#but the apples when you think about how they only got fresh ones every two months after a shipment‚ Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[fullscoreshenanigans]

Posuka Demizu's Second TPN Christmas Art for 2024 [Complementary Piece | Source]

[allfearstofallto]

Let's do something different and imagine things the other way!

Yandere! Reader x Scaramouche

TW: Yandere obsessive themes, very tragic back story, mention of character death

A/N: just a short idea from the drafts! :)

You're not obsessed, you tell yourself after your months of rigorous training, after joining the Fatui, even after working so hard, that you earned yourself a vision that lay on your hip. You're normal. You're not constantly thinking of the man, who's visage is like a blurry memory of your past, but if you saw him, you'd know for sure that it was him.

How many years ago was it? You weren't sure you could count such a thing, but you remember being too young to understand death. Too young to get why your parents, or even the rest of your humble village wasn't waking up. Why red was dripping from their lips and their fingers felt cold. You weren't old enough to understand that no one was left, no one but you.

It didn't take long for hunger to set in. Too small and weak to even start a fire, you ate what little scraps you could find. You couldn't leave. Not even when the village ran out of food you could eat, the rest rotting away. Or when the well ran dry. Or when the smell of decay set in and there was nothing left for you to mourn. You couldn't leave because you had no where to go. You wouldn't even know what direction to head in and the fear of setting off into the wilderness with no destination was scarier than just waiting out in your village.

He arrived on a particularly cloudy day, one where the wind smelled of rain. A part of you thought you made him up, but when your big eyes met his and he looked upon you, you knew he was real. He looked disgusted at your display at first, then a bit sorrowful. He stayed beside you as the rest of the armored people he came with went through the houses, breaking doors and windows like they were looking for something.

An apple was dropped into your lap. The first fresh fruit you'd seen in days and you scarfed it down like an animal, even licking the juice from your fingers.

"You were left behind too, huh?" He questioned, making you tilt your head in confusion. It was only now when the pains of hunger weren't ripping through your body did you truly get a good look at his face. His skin pale and indigo hair covered by a large hat. When a raindrop fell and hit your nose, he lifted that hat from his head and placed it on yours, shading you from the impending downpour, "I can't tell if you're weak or strong, having lived this long."

He took you with him, letting you sit next to him as the two of you rode on the back of his carriage. He didn't have much to say and you didn't have much to talk about, but you still found yourself staring at him. Drinking in every inch of his features, every part of his face and body. He was dressed lavishly, with clothes so vibrant, yet so different than what you knew. He was perfection in the human form, even young you could see that.

You were left at a random city, at an orphanage. So far away from home, but similar at the same time. His hat was lifted from your head and your hair was ruffled by his long fingers. And then he was gone. You stayed at the door and watched the way the tassles of his hat swayed in the wind. You remembered everything about him. Including his name. Lord Scaramouche, they called him.

With the way you talked about the man who saved you all those years as you aged, it was no surprise that you joined the Fatui. It was no surprise that you got a vision. It wasn't even a surprise when you cheerfully waved goodbye to your siblings at the orphanage, telling them that you were off to Inazuma, where you knew his clothes were from.

He didn't look any different. That's all you could think about when you were bowed before him, head lowered as a sign of commitment. He looked over you and the rest of the new recruits in disgust, a face that made most fearful, but only made you heart beat faster, a blush forming on your face. You'd found him. And he was as breath taking as he was before. Only this time, you didn't intend to ever let him leave your sight.

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.3]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(how would some of our NRC students react to this?...)

(includes each house leader +ace and deuce! as requested!<3)

(also includes lots of angst!/mention of blood but not a lot/ angst angst angst angst angst--/not proofread/may be ooc and inconsistent in some places(in both the second part and this part) my apologies!! T-T/mention of book7 overblot/did I mention angst?)

it's been over two weeks now, two weeks in RSA.

so far you've met the headmaster of the school, Ambrose LXIII, with the guidance of Rielle. the headmaster understood your circumstances and talked to you about how he'll try his best to find a way back home for you, and to ease up any of your doubts and concerns he even said he'll promptly ask a student to hand you a report from him of any progress he's made to ensure a safe passage back home for you!

even without having to be an official student or enroll they let you stay in the same dorm as Rielle with your own dorm room as a temporary stay here... and your dorm room was actually nice and well set up! like a hotel room... you were relieved you didn't have to worry about the ceiling cracking and falling on your face for the rest of your nights here.

and to your amazement the headmaster kept his word, unlike Crowley. any report of progress was mostly driven by research but he did mention a lot of Twisted Wonderland's history to connect to any potential gateways back to your world... and this felt way better than whatever Crowley was doing so it was like a breath of fresh air.

finally for the first time ever you've been able to feel like you’re several steps closer to seeing your friends and family back home!... every time you'd think about it you'd get goosebumps of excitement.

during these past few days you've met an enormous amount of friends! most of them being Rielle's while others were outside of the inner social circle but still all of them were friendly or just got along in some way or form, it seemed almost magical. aside from Rielle one of your other closest friends was this boy of green eyes and long, and I mean long blonde hair that usually either dragged behind him or was in a huge braid, he was actually the one who healed your broken arm and wounds with his magical healing powers from his hair! and now you're able to be more active again!

Raps is his name, and he was usually always called upon and under strict supervision by his father whom was a professor there... but you weren't sure if they are related by blood or not since the professor had dark black curls and grey eyes rather than the yellow haired boy's more bright features, but you never really bothered to ask or wonder much. in the end you two got along well and actually had a bit in common! mostly due to the fact that you both can relate to the feeling of being trapped, restrained.

in the end you absolutely loved your temporary stay here so far, you hoped no overblots would ruin your experience... so you never really let your guard down but nonetheless it was relaxing.

we wouldn't be able to say the same for Night Raven College and everyone you left behind though!

Meanwhile in Night Raven College....

it was after classes ended on this cold and grey day when five particular freshmen and a student robot of NRC have been grouping up after school for the past week for one particular reason only...

"where could they be?? we've searched everywhere! the halls, the classrooms, the garden, forest, the shore... it's like they disappeared from thin air!" exclaimed the ace, Ace Trappola to be exact.

"we've looked everywhere Ace, what also irks me is that even Vil has been harsher on the entire dorm since they disappeared." the apple of the group, Epel Felmier, sighed in frustration on the brink of snapping.

"...but could they have been taken, kidnapped?... I'm sure Grim would've heard of any struggle but we haven't even heard from the cat." spoke the wolf of the group, Jack Howl.

"no.. Grim has been avoiding us like the plague and even managed to sneak away from us several times. not sure where he could be hiding now aside from the old ramshackle dorm but-- even yet he always manages to slip through our hands!..." the spade spoke worryingly, Deuce Spade was deeply concerned for your safety and confused over Grim's actions.

"that human!! they've been driving the young master mad! all he's been talking about is where they could be and if they are alright!!... and every time I come back to him it's like the sky and his excellence himself just keeps getting worse and worse!.." the loudest knight of Malleus Draconia, Sebek Zigvolt, exclaimed loudly with worry for both the prefect and his young master... but more worried about the young master's train of thought with how worse the clouds have been getting with the most terrible rain and thunder when each day goes by.

"my big brother hasn't been sleeping at all.. way worse than when he has his game marathons. he's constantly looking for any digital footprint they could've left or even trying to hack into their location but it always overrides somehow... it always says that the device is dead or nonexistent." the younger of the shroud brothers, Ortho Shroud, is seen stressing over you and his big brother, Idia Shroud. "with the amount of information my big brother has been trying to look through it could possibly even make me short circuit."

the entire group was at a frustrating dead end for any clue of your disappearance aside from all your everyday items being left behind and your last known scent to be in the ramshackle dorm and at the very edge of the sea. other than that no one has much of a clue.

well they have been hearing from students that a ship appeared as quickly as it disappeared in the night/very early morning before anyone was up, and that one rumor caused other different kinds of rumors to spread like wildfire. some say you were abducted by pirates, stolen by mischievous pixies, suddenly teleported back into your world without warning, or even... that you have finally left on your own. everyone acknowledged the rumors but they didn't want to think about the reality, the cold hard truth, that you really could've left.

if only they knew how terrible their house leaders took it too.

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

(requested characters)

Ace: the ace, one of the first people you've met. he's always been a funny and childish friend, sometimes he made you laugh and cry of joy from his terrible yet funny jokes and antics while other times said antics would get you in trouble. he didn't want to accept that he could be part of the reason why you're gone, which is why he tried to convince himself and everyone else around that you were taken instead of leaving voluntarily... he wouldn't be able to handle the guilt and heartbreak to accept that you truly left. he loved you, he truly cared for you and your well-being-- he knew he had a hard time to express these feelings but you were his best friend! of course he cared for your health! but... he couldn't handle the fact that maybe just maybe... he wasn't there for you enough to stay with them a little longer.

he could still remember the first day that you were gone, you weren't in any of your classes-- the teachers didn't even call your name when taking attendance anymore. it was utterly bizarre. Grim was still in his classes yet he sat far away from any students that knew you and disappeared after every class ended.. it was as if he was hiding something. and he was, but Ace and Deuce had no idea what it could be aside that they knew it was about you.

in the end, Ace is left heartbroken knowing that he didn't make sure to do enough to help you even when you asked for it from them. he knew that all he and deuce gave you was pure and utter trouble.

and he couldn't accept the fact, so now here he is having his friends look for you when he knew that you were long gone without even saying goodbye.

Deuce: the spade, one of the first people you've met alongside the ace, a passionate yet slow boy with a heart of gold. as much as he cared for you too the way Ace did he knew that even he wasn't helping either. he knew they should've done more or at least what you asked of them. but now you're gone, and just like Ace it seems as if he too is in denial about their part in your disappearance. he truly wants to believe that you didn't leave on your own even if all evidence was starting to slowly point to that possibility.

unlike Ace though, he seemed to be accepting it faster than him. he still followed along with the story that you were taken but he knew that after all the trouble, all the overblots, all your injuries-- he knew you just couldn't handle it anymore. after all it was clearly written on your face the day when you awoke from losing consciousness in the last overblot that you were ready to move on and make proper progress to get home.

he just...truly wishes that at least wherever you are that you are at least taking care of yourself with more helpful and reliable friends by your side, something he knew that he and Ace weren't able to do.

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

(your dorm leaders)

Riddle

inside of the dorm with pampered red roses adorning every corner was the queen of hearts of the Heartslabyul dorm completely and utterly tearing his dorm room into shreds in pure red rage. 

Riddle Rosehearts was fuming, heartbroken, and betrayed on so many levels that he hasn't felt in a good while. hearing from Cater and Trey about your disappearance and then hearing from other of his dorm students about the ship that sailed here as quickly as it left in the late hours of the night/very early hours of the morning.

he immediately assumed that you were kidnapped and in danger! he even marched to the headmaster's office to report your disappearance with other dorm leaders!... well actually-- surprisingly they all came at the same time without planning. but in the end when approaching Crowley with this question of 'where is the prefect?', the headmaster was calm, horrifyingly calm, and said a phrase that shook him on many levels with his fellow dorm leaders beside him.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home! they felt too bad to tell you all so they just left."

"but they will be coming back to say goodbye before they go back home-- if they find a way back home... right?" spoke the leader of Ignihyde, for the first time out of his room.

"unlikely!" exclaimed the headmaster with a smile.

that one first phrase that headmaster Crowley told them was all that he needed to hear, in the moment of processing what he's heard everything was basically fading away as he also slowly but quickly ran back to his dorm room, in tears.

he was so angry, so furious, so emotional, so... he felt as if his own heart had been grabbed and thrown out of his chest. 'why couldn't you at least say goodbye??' he'd think.

he has never thrown so many books, ripped up so many letters he's written for you from himself that he never dared to send or give, and cut up then stepped on so many bouquets of roses in his room with your name on the tags.

wait...

oh, those roses. 

he stopped dead in his tracks with tears streaming down his face as he pathetically dropped down to his knees at the sight of all the five sad 'bouquets' of fresh red roses he planned to give you, now all had their petals and stems broken, torn, shredded, and crushed.

he then realized he didn't have his gloves on anymore... his palms had small yet prominent holes that were dripping red, red as the roses he destroyed. seems like the roses had thorns. 

ahh..he remembers now... 

those roses were meant just for you. 

Leona:

"what do you mean you still haven't found the herbivore yet?..." spoke the ruthless Kingscholar lion of Savannaclaw in a low yet snarly tone "I doubt they could've swam themselves out of here with waters like the ones this place has anyway. you all are likely not even looking right." he huffed as he closed his eyes with his body on the ground of the botanical garden facing away from the hyena gasping for air due to all the running that he had to do to bring the news to Leona.

Ruggie took a few deep breathes and quick pants before speaking "...we've already got twelve other students including the Ignihyde dorm leader's younger brother and the vice-dorm leader of Pomefiore, a robot and a hunter, looking around and no one's found them! Howl already tried to sniff them out and all we came up with was nothing much but just a faint smell of them from the shore." he huffed and panted in exhaustion.

Leona just scoffed "as I mentioned before, you're all still probably not looking in the right places."

Ruggie tried to intercept but knew that even if he did it'd be fruitless and gain nothing from trying to correct Leona, yet he was frustrated too and wanted to know where you could be as well.

but unlike the freshmen at least Ruggie has been starting to accept the possibility that you really have left, forever. Ruggie was about to turn and leave to continue the search and try to sniff out any information from other students until---

"Bucchi." Leona broke the short silence with a throaty command for his attention which he certainly achieved with both of Ruggie's ears poking up to hear his next set of words.

"keep participating in the search for the prefect. If all continues to come up dry, then I'll just have to take this into my own hands."

and this time without trying to speak a single word back he nodded with a quick and stern 'mhm' before scurrying off to help the rest of the students. once the hyena was gone Leona then had his eyes look up through one of the many windows in the garden that are presenting the sky's ever growing storm. oh how much he was longing for you.

he could still remember as if it was yesterday, when Crowley told all of the house leaders the news after they all abruptly showed up at the same time.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home!"

that phrase.. he remembered how taken aback he was.

Leona slammed his fists on the headmaster's table "parted. ways?? as in they left NRC?!" a low growl came from inside his throat as Headmaster Crowley contained his eerily calm smile on his face.

"Sir Kingscholar I must insist you to control your temper." he spoke in his usual annoying and irritating voice "It's what they decided and were set on, end of story."

Leona couldn't remember much else after that blow out since all he did right after that was back away and stayed stuck in his thoughts until finally he just left the room suddenly. He didn't listen to any conversations that happened after that since all he could think was 'why not at least say goodbye?'

he finished recounting the moment before he mumbled to himself "I still have too much to say to you.",

but really he hoped that somehow somewhere you could still hear him. even if you probably left them for good.

Azul:

The sea witch of the Octavinelle dorm was pacing back and forth in every corner across his office in the Mostro Lounge. He's tried his best to squeeze out any information out of any of his dorm students or employees about the prefect with the help of his left and right hand eels ,Jade and Floyd Leech, with Floyd being the most productive yet not catching much information aside from the students he's squeezed the air out of exclaiming about some ship that has left in the midst of the night way pass midnight but too early to be morning. It intrigued all three yet it made our octopus pop a few nerves with how panicky he's been.

when he first heard this rumor it made him run to the headmaster's office with the immense fear that you could've been taken. he could remember his glasses slipping off at every bounce he made with each step of his run. he could remember the moment he opened the door to the headmaster's office along with the sudden appearance of all of his fellow house leaders in the same room..(excluding Malleus as usual) he could still feel the sweat dripping down his face, the crazy and misplaced strands of hair from his usual look, his glasses lopsided, and the scarf of his uniform threatening to fall off his shoulder-- of course he attempted to fix every one of these details on the spot to look somewhat presentable.

yet the answer he got from the headmaster was nothing short of soul-crushing for him. he asked a continuous amounts of questions as to why and how but all were dodged by the headmaster and answered with a short,

"it's just what they decided."

now he's just back into his office now diving head first into his work and school. much to his dismay it only kept him distracted for a temporary amount of time and in the dark of night under his covers all he could think about is you, just you.

he truly wished he could've been a part of your world.

Kalim:

the generous sultan of the Scarabia dorm was sulking in his room with his friend Jamil sitting by his side. Kalim was heartbroken over your disappearance and he remembers how worried sick he was at first. he like many assumed you were kidnapped and he was even waiting for some kind of ransom note to appear and he would've paid full price and more... but when he and other dorm leaders came to talk their concerns all they got was the news that you left voluntarily.

he was one of very few that felt that in their hearts you'd come back. one way or another Kalim felt in his broken heart that you'd appear as suddenly as you disappeared and unlike other dorm leaders he wouldn't put it against you to the slightest. he wouldn't hold grudges or be mad at you if you ever came back, in fact he understood why you'd leave and he was all up for making everything ten times better than before just so you'd never leave him again.

"you have to be realistic here, Kalim. for all we know maybe they found a way home faster than they did here, or they found a place where they don't have to worry about the next overblot or what their next meal will be." Jamil tried to be straightforward and blunt with Kalim, he didn't want him to have hope that you'd come back and then actually never coming back. "we don't know and may never know unless some kind of obvious sign shows that they will actually come back... but just don't keep your hopes up. for your sake." Jamil stood up from the edge of the bed to walk towards the exit of the room "I'll be back, I have to make dinner so you won't go to sleep starving."

With Jamil leaving Kalim then jumped out of his bed to open his window, the sky still not clear of the grey clouds and still not dark enough for the second star of the right to show up but still hoped that his message would still be received by the wishing star.

the platinum blonde boy held his hands together under his lips "please please please please.. please.." Kalim mumbled, wishing with all his heart.

"please, may _____ be safe, sound, and happy... wherever they are.."

Vil:

in the dorm of the fairest queen was the dorm leader watching from up above behind the tallest window of his room. clenching both of the red velvet curtains in his hands as he watched a group of freshman and a robot, including one of his own, group up and talk hectically and stressfully to each other. Vil Schoenheit knew very well why this particular group of students were talking in such an exaggerating manner, after all... with what Rook has told him and what he's heard from various students around the school it was most definitely about you.

as collected and uncaring as he tried to seem right now he could definitely feel worry and a kind of anger bubble up inside him. 

'could you really have left?' he thinks.

remembering what the headmaster said and all the bits of evidence he and Rook have picked up it seemed that it was certainly the case.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home! they felt too bad to tell you all so they just left." spoke the headmaster.

you really did leave without saying goodbye.

he couldn't completely blame you, as silent and busy as he was he obviously knew that his and the rest of the overblots and people that surrounded you were bringing you down. it's why he invited you at times for make-overs, spa days, and everything in between to at least brighten up your spirits whenever he could.

"I suppose all of that wasn't enough for you." Vil mumbled to himself as he aggressively thrashed both curtains he held in each hand inward to close off the view of the storm clouds from the sky, to stop those clouds from taunting him any longer.

that and because he couldn't let anyone from out his window see the mascara dripping down his face.

"Roi de Poison?..." his hunter spoke in a calm and hesitant voice, noting that this isn't exactly the time to try to make conversation.

and he was right "Rook!--" Vil seemed to have jumped, immediately yet carefully wiping his mascara-filled tears with a handkerchief on him. "what is so important that you had to come in without knocking??" he exclaimed as he has yet to face his hunter.

"Roi de Posion... there is something your eyes must see to believe." he seemed to take out his phone with an image on his screen.

"Well get on with it then!" Vil exclaimed before he finally turned to face Rook in dramatic motion, eyes still a bit bloodshot even from the few tears he had.

Rook carefully approached Vil, phone in hand, once he took one last look on the screen to make sure it showed what he wanted to show the hunter then finally faced the screen towards his dorm leader with hesitance.

it was a Magicam account, someone's most recent post...from yesterday..

it was Neige.

but.. wait... that person by his side.. it couldn't be--

why were you in Neige's Magicam post?

Idia:

dorm leader of the underworld Ignihyde, has not been sleeping as much as he should be. of course he's never slept well in the first place but it's just been getting worse since the ramshackle prefect has left.

currently Idia Shroud was looking for any digital footprints he could find, trying to track your location, trying to figure out where you could be. in the end it was all for naught since for the past week or two he's found nothing and basically has given up at this point.

he leaned back against his gaming chair and with a sigh of disappointment, he didn't want to accept what Crowley told all of the house leaders in his office. he knew that there's some kind of trace of you out there somewhere, he felt like it was up to him to find the person who bothered to give him the time of day and attention that he'd never thought he'd get.

the light from his screens were causing his eyes to become dry and almost bloodshot, each blink hurting his mind and his focus. that was until a notification came from his phone.

that's strange.. no one ever sends him messages unless it's in game.

he grabbed his phone beside his keyboard to read the message. how odd, it was from the noob Rook Hunt. what would the vice-dorm leader of Pomefiore want anything with him? nonetheless Idia was slightly intrigued yet annoyed, he pressed on the notification to lead him straight to the new chat with the hunter, it said:

"Roi de Ta Chambre, I do hope this finds you well. A little bird told me that you too have been wondering about the safety and whereabouts of our beloved missing prefect. I may have the answer to your worries here."

below the message was a link to a Magicam post under the name of Neige Leblanc. he's heard of the name but was never interested in the petty and do-gooder lives of any of the RSA students. he cautiously pressed on the link to show a photo, a photo of said Neige Leblanc posing with a familiar face... a familiar face that he now wished he didn't see.

it was you, you were with an RSA student...

"tch..." Idia grumbled as he threw his phone back on his desk before he stepped back out of his chair and walked over to his bed "why did i even bother."

he fell face first into his bed and hugged one of his long yet soft pillows tightly, tears quietly falling down on their own slowly, he didn't dare make a sound in case Ortho would come barging in. he continued to cry quietly now acknowleging that you truly did leave without a goodbye, and left with RSA students no less, and with how you treated him before you left-- he dreamed that he might've had a chance with you.

but he should've known, dreams are for rookies.

Malleus:

the dragon prince of Diasomnia was a strange case, unlike every one of his fellow dorm leaders he actually knew that you left by ship. where to though he had no clue.

he remembers that he came to visit you at late hours of the night at the ramshackle dorm like he usually does except he saw you sneak out with nothing but Grim on your back. he followed you walking down to the shore to see a large ship awaiting for a passenger and what shook him a bit more was that the headmaster was there beside the ship, expecting... you. Malleus watched in confusion as you gave your beloved fiery feline a huge and long hug and some shared words with the headmaster. he was about to teleport himself right in front of you when he saw you walk up the gangplank of the ship to hop aboard but he stopped himself when he remembered about your cast.

ahh yes, how could he forget. he gave you the broken arm, the cuts and wounds, he gave them all to you when he overblotted. he knew that you said you had a chance of going back home but he didn't think it'd have you to go by ship.. and without saying goodbye.

in the end he just watched you and the ship disappear, watched Grim slowly walk back to ramshackle, and watched the headmaster disappear on the spot.

for the next few days that passed he's been mourning the loss of your presence, he's almost casted spells to take himself to you-- to retrieve you and hide you in a tower with nothing but him to protect you... to right all the wrongs he's made. he'd bring you fresh flowers every day and make sure to keep you healthy and happy, he'd do anything to have you back.

but he should've held back, every other person who's overblot you had to deal with should've held back. the headmaster should've done his job. then maybe just maybe you would've been able to be in his arms that night when you left.

in the end he was the only one who didn't ever visit the headmaster for any information about you. he had no reason after all he saw you leave.

after he gets a grip on himself though, he will confront Headmaster Crowley for any information as to 'why' he let you leave.

right now all he could ask is why... why why??.. the more he felt stuck in his thoughts the more the storm outside worsened. at this point everyone could see how he's feeling, his entourage of three tried their best to comfort him but it was no use. the prince of thorns was stuck sulking, and he didn't know how else to stop unless you were back into his arms.

he's also been taking way too many naps now, strange to his three knights yet he knew he did this because every time in every one of his dreams he had you in his arms and walked beside you. he had you all to himself in his dreams.

he saw that this was a better solution than being awake.

(THIS IS SUPER LONG and I might've messed up here and there T-T hope it broke a few hearts tho! I tried my very best in each one of their reactions!<3)

[taojjang]

𐙚 riize preparing for the holidays .ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day two! pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: fluff!, warnings: none unless you're scrooge

note: this one is pretty short and simple! hope u guys enjoyyyy :)

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

ಇ. ways riize would bring up your holiday spirit

shotaro . . .

taro would absolutely LOVE decorating the house for christmas! just like any other holiday, taro would buy tons of cute decorations and encourage you to help him make the house festive. he'd be very serious about decorating the christmas tree all pretty: buying tons of pretty ribbons and sparkly ornaments. even when you'd think he's done decorating the house, he'd still find more decor when the two of you shop together.

"taro, i think we have enough decorations."

"but these reindeer figures are sooo cute.. :("

eunseok . . .

eunseok is the type of person to feel the holiday spirit through the cold weather. once the summer heat begins to die down, he's already browsing stores for new coats and asking you what you want for christmas. he loves taking you shopping and helping you pick a nice warm jacket and a pair of mittens before it gets too cold :( he'd even pick out new ones for himself so the two of you could match!

"this jacket seems warm enough, let's get this one."

"i look like baymax..."

sungchan . . .

as soon as halloween was over, this guy would toss out all of the candy baskets and replace them with cinnamon apple candles. he'd be so stoked for christmas that he'd begin preparing all the way in october. he'd refuse to buy fake christmas trees because he loves the fresh smell of pine. he'd be so excited to fill the house with so many christmas gifts and warm scents <3

"which candle: cinnamon pinecone or cranberry pie?"

"dude, halloween is in two days."

wonbin . . .

wonbin normally holds off on pda, typically limiting public affection to holding hands or maybe a small peck if he's feeling brave. but the second the breeze grows colder, he's clinging to you every second of the day. the winter makes wonbin so much more affectionate with you! he excuses it by saying he's only doing this to keep you warm, but something about the white winter sky makes him so lovely :(

"you're so clingy today, baby."

"it's only 'cus i'm cold..."

seunghan . . .

he would be so excited to give you all of your gifts! seunghan is truly a giving person and he'd buy you almost everything that comes to mind. he'd start christmas shopping quite early, but that becomes a big issue when he gets too impatient. he tries his best to keep everything a secret, but once you become curious about the gifts, he'll let you open some gifts early. he'd pretend to be a bit reluctant, but he can't stop smiling once he sees how excited you are to open your gift. he can't resist you :(

"but i wanna know what you got for me! just one hint...!"

"fine, you can open one. you're so spoiled!"

sohee . . .

sohee absolutely loves playing in the snow. he anticipates snow the second summer is over, and he'd get sulky and complain when it's already two months into fall and it hasn't snowed an inch. but once the snow finally falls, he'd throw on his thickest jacket and favorite beanie, then drag you outside to play in the snow.

"it's finally snowing! i call a snowball fight!"

"sohee, it's only been snowing for 5 minutes..."

anton . . .

during special occasions like anniversaries or holidays, anton often spends time reminiscing on his happiest memories. during the christmas season, he always shares memories of watching tons of christmas movies as a kid. he'd introduce you to classics he loves, like home alone or the grinch. the two of you would spend countless nights cuddled up while having movie marathons <3

"i think you'll love this movie! this one makes me think of you!"

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (send an ask to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova

[bloogers-boogers]

Got inspired to write this from @cakerybakery post !! Love them

Lucifer couldn’t help himself from the mixture of dreaded feelings he was experiencing at that moment, unable to sleep after realizing his clone and… Adam, were.. they had something. It was weird to even acknowledge it but how could you not? When you caught the enemy being in the arms of your clone sharing a passionate kiss. It was like your world froze at that exact point.

He didn’t know his clones could get to that position of consciousness, until he drained all the images, memories and thoughts his clone gave him after being evaporated out from existence. He didn’t think… it would feel. It felt so much during that time he was given the task to get Adam to safety and be healed. He didn’t even order him to do it himself! He was asked to be taken to a healer not to be the healer. Dumb clone.

He sighed while placing both hands on his desk, clawing the wood from time to time, he couldn’t believe it but the proof was right there. In his brain from vivid memories, from fresh feelings... The clone had fallen in love with Adam, and Adam… he too, had fallen for the clone version of himself. Now the results from such things are imprinted on Adam’s face when he sees him.

Being stuck at his daughter’s hotel has given the unpleasant experience for both men to see each other.

It’s like, a pang of guilt but also awkwardness hits every time their eyes met. Adam was clearly in pain but also angry at him. And well, it was not ideal to visualize your enemy naked in bed after having hardcore sex with your clone self.

That clone was fucking freaky too, went beyond what he’d ever done with Lilith. Crazy kinky motherfucker, made it even ten times weirder to handle seeing Adam when all he can see was the man being pounded on the wooden bed he had hand made to keep him safe and comfortable when he was still in the first few days of recovery. Then being use to fulfill the dirtiest desires they had in mind.

He shook his head, shooing all those thoughts away. All he ever wanted now is to have never discover what had happened but if he hadn’t who knows how much deeper it could’ve gotten between those two.

The guilt was eating him alive. In a way. He had taken another love from Adam’s life. In a way… he had hurt Adam again.

“Dad?” Charlie called out from behind the door of his workshop, snapping him out from his inner conflicted monologue.

“Yes, apple pie?”

“The activities are about to start, if.. you want to join? We’ll be downstairs.”

“In a minute, pumpkin! I’ll be right there.”

Lucifer sighed heavily, puffing out his chest, cheeks full with air, fists clenched tightly. It wasn’t his fault. This shouldn’t be weird. He shouldn’t be the one hiding! He didn’t ask for Adam to fuck his clone, he didn’t ask for his clone to had fallen in love with Adam!

He will be fine.

.

.

.

He is not fine.

Lucifer watched carefully as Adam had been teamed up with three hound sinners, one who was awfully close and constantly flirting with him. And Adam seemingly entertaining it.

He was not in any way jealous, but he was particularly beyond furious on his clone behalf. How could he be so easy going with some hussy after the supposedly “love of his life” died in-front of him.

Adam was a slut. His only conclusion. After all, he does recall this is the same man that most likely shoved his manhood inside all heaven when he was still up there. He knows. Adam would brag that shit in their dumb yearly reunions. All the fucking time.

Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case all along with his clone. Maybe, all this time Adam just saw him as a fuck buddy while he was still at his care until he fully recovered back to his dick self.

No. That can’t be. There was a lot of… personal and tender exchanges the two had for it to be just seen as something light. It’s unlikely.

He breathed out the air he had trapped in, unaware that he popped the ball he held in his hands.

“Man! Now we have to get a new one!” He heard Angel dust groaned out annoyed.

But he didn’t care. He needed to talk to Adam. They’ve ignored this for too long.

[syoish-aot]

"I Found You (too)" - EREN/READER - REINCARNATION AU (chapter 4)

eren/reader

Rating: M

2020s reincarnation of marleyan nurse reader & undercover eren

2.4k words

also on Ao3

<- chapter 3 | chapter 5 ->

Liberio, 854

After two months, you and Mr. Kruger established a routine.

Every morning you woke him up.

You gave him his medication (slipping the green sedative into your pocket to dispose of later), checked his vitals and made your notes about his progress.

Then you helped him change so he could go down to breakfast.

He got free time for a few hours.

You made sure he ate lunch.

After that, he went to physical therapy with Dr. Rall.

He was normally in a bad mood after physical therapy so he would return to his room to read whatever he’d been given from the library. You’d commented on his books a few times because they were normally ones you’d read, but he never wanted to talk about them. Sometimes it made you wonder if he was reading them at all. Sometimes you thought he might have been staring at the words with his mind somewhere else, only returning to his body when an appropriate amount of time had passed and he should flip to the next page.

Regardless, he was there for another hour.

After that he had dinner. A shower (on his days to do so). And then it was back to his room for his last dose of medications before you locked him up for the night.

You chatted sometimes throughout the day as you made his bed or checked his blood pressure. And every day you noticed him getting a little more talkative. 

He was healing. That was why he talked more now. He was healing. 

That fact alone would make any nurse proud, which it did; but at the same time, selfishly, it also did something else…

“Do you think you’ll be discharged soon?” You asked as you packed up your small bag of equipment once you were done changing his bandages. 

His eye wasn’t healing as quickly as it should have been. You were worried about it, but it wasn’t your place to say anything, so you put it in your notes instead and left it up to the doctors to discuss.

“Dunno.” He answered casually.

“What’ll you do once you are? Do you have family in the internment zone?”

His silence said everything. 

“I don’t either.” You told him before he looked over at you. “Have family, I mean. My parents died a few years ago and my older brother he-” You froze, bandages half packed into your bag as the sight of it flashed through your mind.

The sight of your older brother’s corpse strung up against the outer wall of the internment zone.

Rope. Flesh. Crimson words on faded brick.

No.

You pushed the memory away, filling your head with other thoughts to replace it:

A house. A warm bed. Homemade food.

Better.

“Anyway.” You cleared your throat as you shoved the rest of the bandages into your bag and zipped it closed. “I guess that’s why I’m so much of a workaholic!” You laughed.

“Hm.” Was Mr. Kruger’s only reply.

“Maybe that’s what you could do once you get out of here!”

“What? Be a workaholic?” His tone was dry and void of emotion, but you now knew that was how he told jokes.

“Oh ha-ha.” You answered back in a tone just as dry. “Not a workaholic,” you were back to smiling as you grabbed your bag, “but a job.”

“Yeah,” he said as he glanced out the window, “maybe…”

Two Days Later

Mr. Kruger wasn’t in his room.

Which wasn’t a bad thing. His schedule indicated that it was his free time so he was allowed to be in the open areas of the hospital. It was just that normally during said free time he still kept himself locked away. You should have been happy to see him getting fresh air for once, and you were happy, but…

You’d smuggled him a peach tart from the morning market and you wanted to make sure he got a chance to try it before you were found out.

It wasn’t your first time sneaking him food that he technically wasn’t supposed to be having. It had started with small things: candies, apples, the occasional warm tea. Each time you did it he mumbled a short “thank you” as he slowly ate whatever you’d brought him.

Whenever it happened there was a fraction of a second where you were filled with warmth.

The same warmth you felt when you thought of-

A warm house. A scratchy couch. Homemade food.

You tried not to think too hard about why Mr. Kruger reminded you of that warmth, but he did. Despite his tired appearance, his slouched shoulders, and the monotone way in which he spoke- something about the moments you spent with him were warm. And because of that warmth they often always brought you somewhere better. Somewhere without brick walls, blood, and spray paint.

Somewhere nice.

With the shake of your head, you pulled yourself back to reality and continued down the hall in search of Mr. Kruger.

From the stairwell on the first floor, where a large window faced down to the lower courtyard, you spotted him. A tree covered half of the bench he was sitting on, concealing the person that he was talking to. But he was talking, and it made you smile.

Mr. Kruger kept to himself most of the time, so the notion that he might have made a friend was something new.

You could see his lips moving, his beautiful eyes set against the blank expression he always wore, the way his shoulders slouched as he sat there with his crutch leaning against the bench next to him. 

You watched him. 

And maybe you spent a little bit longer than you should have doing it, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You didn’t know what he was saying, but you could imagine the gravelly tone of his voice. The tired sarcasm he snuck in on occasion. The soft sighs he’d let out as he paused in what he was saying. You didn’t know what he was saying, but you’d talked to him enough to imagine what it sounded like.

To imagine the short “thank you” that he would mumble as you passed him the peach tart.

Mr. Kruger leaned forward and stared at the ground in front of his feet as he kept talking to his mysterious friend.

Everything was warm.

And then the sound of a doctor chatting with a nurse as they walked together down the hall pulled you away from that warmth.

Birds pecking flesh from bone- brick walls- crimson words.

You tore yourself away from the window to head down the stairs towards him.

By the time you joined Mr. Kruger, his new friend was gone. Maybe they went back to their room or they had grown bored of the conversation. As much as Mr. Kruger was your favourite patient, he made for a pretty terrible conversationalist. 

He was still staring at the ground as you approached. 

“There’s a surprise in your room~” You sang as you sat down next to him.

“What kind of surprise?”

“If I told you it would ruin the surprise part of it.”

He sighed. “You’re going to make me walk all the way up there, on one leg, without giving me a reason for why I should be doing it?”

His dry sense of humor (at least you thought it was humor, honestly maybe he was being serious, you could never really tell) made you laugh.

“Your free time’s almost over anyway,” you pointed out.

“Hm…” Mr. Kruger hummed in agreement before he reached for his crutch and used it to support himself as he stood. 

Your eyes fell to the bench. “Is this yours?” You asked, grabbing the baseball and holding it up to him.

“It was a gift.” Mr. Kruger answered as he started to walk away.

You followed after him, tossing the old ball between your hands. “Whoever got it for you must not know you very well,” you commented.

Mr. Kruger stopped walking and looked over at you with his visible eyebrow raised, wordlessly asking you to elaborate. 

“It’s just-...” you looked down at the ball again, “you’re not exactly in the right condition to play catch.”

You met his eyes.

Then you gestured to his missing leg.

For the first time ever, Mr. Kruger smiled. He let out a short huff of amusement and then kept walking.

You didn’t follow after him though.

You couldn’t.

Instead, you stared at the back of his head- completely transfixed by the way his smile lit up his face and made deep green eyes all the more breathtaking.

Warmth.

A warm room. A warm bed. A warm life.

Nothing but warmth.

Your knees felt weak. Your arms like noodles. And for a moment, you wondered if Mr. Kruger would let you borrow his crutch.

He thanked you for the tart and ate it right away.

He didn’t smile again, but his eyes lit up enough that he may as well have.

That night, when you were trying to fall asleep you took yourself somewhere nice.

A warm house, just big enough for two. Nice food. And a comfortable bed.

It was the same place you always went, the same place you’d been visiting your whole life. So peaceful and warm and safe.

You thought about Mr. Kruger’s eyes. You thought about Mr. Kruger’s smile. You thought about Mr. Kruger’s laugh.

“What is this place?” Mr. Kruger asked as he appeared in front of you. As he sat down on the scratchy couch and looked up at you with his expression blank, shoulders slouched, and a crutch propped up next to him.

You had never had guests here before.

.

.

.

The sun rose and lit up your cramped nurse’s quarters, pulling you back into the real world.

The world that didn’t have anything nice at all.

The world of rope… …of flesh torn from bone… …of two crimson words spray painted on the brick wall…

Two words. Words that haunted you.

Rope. Brick. Crimson.

That wasn’t the scary part. It had never been the scary part. The scary part had always been the words.

The rope. The brick. The crimson.

None of those things bothered you anymore. They were just reality but-

Mr. Kruger’s eyes. Mr. Kruger’s smile. Mr. Kruger’s laugh.

Those things had somehow become reality too…

Two words against a wall.

Mr. Kruger on that couch.

Two words.

The most terrifying part of the memory.

                                And it was just two words:

…Eldian Lover…

You’d always had a problem with spacing out.

Always ended up physically in this world, but with your head completely elsewhere. Ever since you were a little kid, chatting with your older brother about somewhere nice, it’s what you’d done. You’d been called out for it before- normally by your coworkers and occasionally by your friends.

“There she goes again,” they’d say, “there she goes into her daydreams.”

No one ever asked what you were thinking about, which you were glad for because you’d have to make up a quick lie if they did. It was always “snap out of it”, “wake up”, “come back to us”. It was never: “what was it like?”, “what did you do?”, “where did you go?”

Mr. Kruger was the same.

For you, it was the blank hospital walls but for Mr. Kruger-

For Mr. Kruger, it was the window.

You were packing up your bag of supplies, ready to move onto your next patient; and as you did so you watched him.

You watched him stare out the window- not to the courtyard below, or the trees that lined it, or even to the street that ran in front of the hospital.

That’s not what he was looking at. Never what he was looking at.

Mr. Kruger’s eyes were always on something else.

They were always on the horizon.

You couldn’t blame him for it, really. He knew what was below him, what was next to him, what was around him; but the horizon-... well…

Over the horizon, there could be just about anything.

“Where do you go, Mr. Kruger?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Where do you go?

It was the question that no one ever asked you, so you wondered what he would say in reply. Would he tell the truth? Would he lie? Would he even answer you at all?

You didn’t know how he would answer, but you still asked him anyway.

Where do you go?

At first, he didn’t look back. At first, he just kept staring. At first, you wondered if he even heard you at all. But then: “Hm?” He hummed, not moving a muscle.

You clarified: “When you stare out that window and slip away,” you asked, “where is it that you go?”

Slowly. Hesitantly. As if he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it: Mr. Kruger’s gaze moved from the window and back to you.

Your breath caught. You wanted to look away. You should look away. You should look away and stand up, grab your bag and lock the door behind you as you left.

The words came to mind before you could do anything to stop them: Eldian Lover

You didn’t get up. Instead-

Instead, you didn’t do any of that.

Instead, you stayed in a room you shouldn’t have stayed in, looking at a man you shouldn’t look at, while your heart sped up in a way it shouldn’t.

There were a lot of “shouldn’t”s when it came to Mr. Kruger.

The biggest one being how you felt every time his eyes met yours.

But you couldn’t help it that your stomach flipped. You couldn’t help it that your cheeks turned pink. That your heart hammered against your chest and that you were suddenly flooded with warmth. You knew why your body did this- why it had always done this, despite the fact that it shouldn’t.

Two crimson words.

Eldian lover. Eldian lover. Eldian lo-

No.

A warm home. A soft touch. A homemade meal on a scratchy couch.

Better.

Mr. Kruger was still looking at you. Still staring with a reply to your question hanging off his barely parted lips.

Where do you go, Mr. Kruger?

You hoped he would answer you. You hoped he would tell you. You hoped you’d learn all about his special place in the horizon.

But instead, he said something else.

Instead, he became the first person to ever ask you:

“...where do you?”

TAG LIST: (like this post to be added or unlike it to be removed)

@xngelsau @f4irygard3n @vlsquuu @fvckingeetar @shmaptainbonky @maluvilela @gojojang @merrygo14 @ebubeu @dumdxm @janneeeexdxc @huni7857 @misshale21 @dracucil @venus1224idkpleaze @decadentprunepersonadragon @magictrump @kooromin @ilovemollyweasley @azulaenthusiast @dattebakay @suagxsugax @sky-full-of-magic @longestline @skoll1897 @hayleighloatx @datshittuebrat @br0ken-g1rl @tbzzluvr @jaeg3rb0mb @ratkidcalledallie @sieihebendh @lcve1yk3nz1e @marklover142717 @areenaa @luvs4kim

[slyvieselkie]

Sweet As Apple - Fushiguro Toji

Check out my masterlist for more!

˖◛⁺⑅♡Lᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ♡⑅⁺◛˖⁺⑅♡Lᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ♡⑅⁺◛

When Toji first met you, you were as plain as an apple.

Just a regular girl that would never catch his attention on the street. The only reason why he even looked your way was because you were neighbours with the two things that he helped create.

You kept to yourself, never making life difficult for the two but also never going out of your way to help them. At least that's what he saw every now and then, across the street from the rundown apartment building.

So you can imagine his shock when he sneaks inside the place only to find you seated in the middle of the tiny room, carefully darning Megumi's shirt. Despite him not making a single rustle, your head turns to the unlocked door. Your eyes lock with the giant black haired man, and Toji watches as your expression becomes sour like a bad apple.

"Huh, so you're the deadbeat father? Don't even think about stealing money, they don't have any thanks to some one", you sneer.

And he shouldn't be like this, because you were a nobody, but a deep anger flares up in his stomach. How dare you look down on him like those bastards did, even though you were the one living in a moldy box? Toji never got a chance to express his fury because a mug flies to his head and he catches it with a scowl.

You're still on the tatami floor darning like a good mother, "Get out, find a ditch and rot in it."

What a bad apple, don't you know who is standing before you? He could kill you in a flash, tear you to shreds, crush your neck like it was nothing. Green eyes stare down at you and imagine your face distorting into fear, horror, desperation. And to his shock...he couldn't see it.

"Ow fuck!", he was too caught up with his thoughts to dodge the rusty alarm clock, "Fuck off, shithead! Next time its a knife!"

Toji leaves, not because of your threat, hell no! It was because he wouldn't know what he'd do if he were to stay any longer. Irked at losing to a plain apple, he goes off to relieve his stress. Maybe grab a hot chick or hide away in a casino...he doesn't have any money though, shit.

....

"We're home!", you turn to two children busy taking off their shoes, "Welcome back Tsumiki, Megumi", you answer softly.

Tsumiki beams and runs into your arms, Megumi trails behind and latches onto your side. You chuckle, use a sugary apple tone telling them to wash their hands before eating dinner. It was nothing special, some cheap meat stir fry and vegetable soup with white rice, but they eat it up like its the best meal on Earth. Afterwards, you coo at Megumi to bathe while helping Tsumiki with her homework. When they switch, the little boy sits in your lap and finishes his grammar homework with his tongue poking out.

A giant shadow watches you like a creep, with a strange feeling swirling inside. Apple sweetness seeps out of you for the children to soak up, children that had no relation to you. Tsumiki and Megumi looks at you like you were the perfect apple, just the right amount of sweetness and crisp along with that fresh aroma. They cling to you and try to take as much as they could possible get.

You rock them to sleep even though they should be old enough to sleep by themselves, humming a soft lullaby. They're tucked into bed and snoring away by the time you sneak back to your apartment. You stop at the entrance because he was inside, sitting in the middle like it was his house.

"I knew you'd come back", you sigh and head inside flicking the lights on.

He's covered in blood and dirt, piercing green eyes stare at you behind the grimy and red mess. Toji sees your face turn sour and he suddenly feels a dread, that's not what you're supposed to do. You didn't with them when Tsumiki spills the soy sauce all over your dress, when Megumi walked in completely covered in mud, when they fling food everywhere whilst trying to speak.

"Oi, at least use my shower if you're going to sneak in. Look at the mess you've made", you click your tongue and point to the shower.

You meet the pair of glowing green eyes, lighthouses looking for the right direction, "Go, I'll heat up some leftovers for you."

Toji stands in the bath allowing the water to turn a copper colour, he could stay there forever. But you would grumble about the waste, so the man gets out and wraps himself with the fluffy towel. He was about to go out bare when green eyes noticed the folded clothes next to the sink. Somehow in that time, you've already washed and dried his clothes.

Toji exits the bathroom and sees you watching something on that ancient TV, a little grainy with sound that glitches every now and then. Next to you was a small wooden table and food, steaming white rice with slices of egg rolls and a side of soup. He understands why the children eat the way they do, Toji finishes everything in minutes and for once feels full even though he could eat three more servings.

Green eyes finally glances up at you, to see you watching with a soft smile. The black haired man visualises the nectar leaking out of your cracks. And he wonders what a girl like you was doing in this part of town, why an apple sweet heart was living in this garbage area. The dishes are cleared and the giant sits there, amused and embarrassed by the way his fingers fiddle. What does he do now? Get lost and find somewhere else to sleep? Does he repay you with sex?

"Just sleep, dumb ass", you flick his forehead and he jolts spinning around.

Oh, you've already showered and the lights have been turned off. That's a no for sex then.

Slipping underneath the blanket, you snuggle into your futon. Toji casually just lies back and rests his head on his arm, this tatami has nothing on the other floor he's had to sleep on. In fact, this was on the better side of things.

You giggle, "Idiot, come here", the man turns over to find you holding the blanket to reveal the empty space on the futon, "Why would I make sleep like that?"

He gets drawn in by the pretty smile you have on, and carefully lie down beside you. How odd, Toji was known as 'sex on legs' and yet he was here barely breathing so he wouldn't annoy you. Straight as a plank so you two would never touch. He'll probably just stay up to make sure your hands don't graze.

....

It's been a week since that night. You woke up the next morning to find that he's vanished, you shrug it off since that was expected.

Life goes on without him, you get busy as travel season arrives and people start booking you for tours around the city. While its tiring and stressful, the money is completely worth it and the photos you bring back for the children always makes it better. On the days where you could be out from early morning to nightfall, you let the children into your place where they can microwave food. You tell them to go back to their apartment, but the two always says that they can't sleep without you.

It was on a rare free day, you spin the pen while calculating your expenses. You grin seeing the remaining zeros in your bank, maybe you'll take the two out to the zoo and some barbecue afterwards. Then the door clicks open and your head snaps towards it, a robbery in broad daylight?

"...I'm sorry, when did you start living here?"

The black haired man smirks, strolling in with a bag swung over his shoulder, "Miss me much?", you raise an eyebrow, "Shook off the prude act did you?", he scowls at the reminder, "Shut up."

Sitting across from you, he throws the bag onto the table and you hear the heavy thud. You narrow your eyes at him but Toji only motions you to open it with a smug look. Carefully unzipping the bag, you peak inside to see the stacks of bills. Your sweetness grows sour and rotten.

"Where did you get this money from?", "Working?", he frowns because why are you scowling, "Working as what? A thief, a drug dealer, an underground fighter, a porn star, tell me!"

Green eyes sharpen, "Don't raise your voice at me", you laugh and sneer, "Don't tell me a murderer...fuck off", you shove the bag his way, "Fuck off and don't come back, don't ever show your face back here!"

You stand up and he follows, towering over your figure, "What's your problem? I just gave you five times the amount you made this week, you should be thanking me", he growled and you glare back, "Did I tell you to do that? To kill someone and bring me the money? No, I didn't, so don't justify this shit using me! You're a killer, a lowlife, worthless shit!"

In an instant, there's a tight grip around your throat and he leans in hissing, "Don't fucking test me, I can kill you in a blink of an eye."

But you smile like you've won, "Like I said, worthless piece of shit. Is that something you should be proud of, brag to me? That you can easily kill someone? That's the kind of person, the adult, the man you want to be?"

Your eyes widen as you make him falter, "You're nothing, less than the dirt you sleep with. No love, no family, no true friends, you're a completely pathetic loner. Just a clump of muscle to die alone...is that what you want to be?"

Before Toji knows it, he's out of that place holding the bag of money and remembering your last words, "If you want to keep living like that, then do those kids a favour and plan your own funeral."

....

The days pass as you and Toji think about what happens now.

Like last time, life goes on for you. There are bills to pay, food to put on the table, someone else's kids to take care of. But he's always lingering in the back on your mind, the defeated expression haunting your sleeps. Maybe you went too far, pushed him over the edge and now another life has been wasted. Those two never got to know their mothers, and now they'll never see their father.

Toji on the other hand had been cooped up in some temporary hideout, wondering what the hell he should do. He knew you were right, that you hit every weak point without a twitch of a finger. However...he's too far in, has done too much, has made too many enemies, has too many scars to forget. Toji wasn't meant to stay by your side, because he would only sour you into a bad apple.

But he also can't forget that night. How good it felt to take a warm shower, have clean clothes, eat a home cooked meal, sleep on a soft mattress and fluffy pillow. To not be alone and miserable. It's been so long since Toji has felt this weak, all he wants to do is fall asleep next to you.

So he sneaks into your place in the middle of the night, and sees your sleeping figure under the blanket. He first sits down beside you, observing your peaceful expression. It was so delicate, too fragile to be around him.

"Are you just going to sit there and watch me?"

You blink waiting for him to do something, but he's frozen and stuck to the floor. So you take your chance and pounce on him, too little compared to Toji to even make him budge. You end up curled in his lap, the blanket loosely thrown around him. Perfect.

Your voice comes out in a soft tone, "Give it a go. This world is your oyster as long as you take the chance. Just try to live a better life, for your children, for the ghosts around you, for yourself. "

Toji never responded, but you got your answer from the way his arms wrapped around you tightly. He drifts off to sleep with his face buried in your neck and feels the tension leave his body. Maybe this could work out, if its you.

....

"What are you doing here, you deadbeat man?"

He looks up from the ground to see Megumi glaring at him, "Oi, I still have it in me to give you a good spanking", his younger clone snorts, "When did you ever have it in you?"

He hates how right the kid is. Even if Megumi were to swear at him like an Irish man, Toji would only go and sulk to you. It probably has something to do with him not being there for Megumi since he came into this world.

"What are you doing here?", Toji smirks and pushes himself off the Bentley, "What do you mean, I'm just a good father here to pick up his lovely son~", the latter gives him a disgusted look, "Like hell you'd do that."

It's absolutely true, as if he'd go out of his way to pick the ungrateful brat up from high school. Plus, its tiring the way he has to ignore all of the housewives drooling over his muscles. They're not even trying to be discreet, evening making their children befriend Megumi to reach him. Those brats also have their own motives, always asking Toji to get a signature from the A-lists he stunt doubles for. But it was your orders, something about picking the kid up and go clothes shopping for a family dinner.

"Come on, let's get out of here before their panties get wetter", the boy feels queasy and Toji cackles, "I'm telling Mum!"

As he drives off, the black haired man feels his heart flutter at the way the children refers to you. It's perfect family, you're the perfect couple with two gorgeous children on their way to becoming adults. Of course, it wasn't accomplished overnight. While Tsumiki had no problem calling you two her parents, Megumi was different.

He resented Toji for a long time. For abandoning him when he was only a small boy, for leeching onto you...for bringing her presence into the house. The small photo frame of his real mother haunts him, it's a constant reminder that you could leave him any moment because there was no obligation. Toji gave up after a week, hiding her away in his wallet. But you made him put it back up despite all of the boy's tears.

"B-But don't you hate it?", "What do I hate, love?", he sniffles as giant tears fall down, "T-That I'm not yours, that t-the deadbeat cares about her?"

A chuckle escapes you as Megumi hides away in your arms, "Didn't I tell you not to call him that?", "...He deserves it."

Letting out a sigh, you reach out to caress the young lady inside the frame, "Your mum seems like a wonderful woman, I'm not surprised Toji loves her...I imagine if she was still alive, your dad would've stayed on the right track. She would've been a loving mother and wife, it would be disrespectful of me to let her beauty rot away just so I could feel secure."

You pull away and nuzzle into his hair, "Besides, I'm getting a little too old to be playing games with ghosts. Maybe in my teens, but I have bigger things to worry about now. If Toji can't see me without remembering her, then I have no reason to entertain him. But you'll always be my Megumi, my adorable boy, my child."

In that moment, you were the apple of his eye. A gift from the world that he thought abandoned him. And somewhere in his heart, he feels the same as Megumi. He should've met you first, long ago before anyone else. You two should've been together and happier years ago, Tsumiki and Megumi should've been born from you. You would've set him straight ages ago, turn him into the responsible father he is today.

But he learns to let it go, you taught him that. To move on from his past, to accept his flaws, to feel compassion and love, to cry and bleed, to smile and laugh.

"Dad, Megumi!", the exact copies wearing matching black suits see a blue ball of fluff bouncing about in front of the restaurant.

It's Tsumiki and whatever that thing she decided to wear. You place a hand on her shoulder to calm her down and Toji's breath hitches when he fully takes you in. It was really nothing extravagant, just a pretty apple red dress and the cheap earrings he bought you with his first check.

But it's you, so he falls in love all over again for the sweetest apple.

Hi Lovelies, hoped you guys enjoyed this!

Even though I think Toji might be a little too out of character, I always imagined him to be this confused giant when it comes to receiving affection and love. I hope the apple metaphor and motif wasn't too annoying, it felt a little...cringe in some areas but I just thought apple and couldn't look back!

Anyways, see ya again ‿୨♡୧‿

[lulublack90]

Prompt 16 - Hospital Wing

@wolfstarmicrofic November 16, word count 702

This is the final part of Hallowed. Hope you enjoyed it.

Previous part First part

Sirius felt like he’d been hit by a train. Everything hurt, his head being the worst part. He lifted heavy fingers to press against his temples, willing the pain away. He had no idea where he was or how he’d got there; his memories were fuzzy, and he couldn’t focus on any one thing. He gave up and tried to force his eyes open. 

He was in a bed with white linen sheets in an airy room. To his side were more empty beds, and a large window letting in fresh air. 

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” A stern, no-nonsense-looking woman barked at him as she flashed a light in his eyes and took his heart rate. 

“Where am I?” He managed to croak out. The woman didn't answer, but instead carried on with her checks. 

“You are in the Hogwarts hospital wing after being found unresponsive on the side of the road beside another gentleman,” the woman told him calmly. 

“Remus!” He tried to jump out of the small bed, but the woman held him down. 

“Please, you need rest. Remus is fine, and I will bring him over momentarily. Please lie back down,” Her voice was commanding yet understanding, and he settled back down, craning his neck to try and see Remus. 

“Hi, Sirius,” Remus’s equally croaky voice said gently as he sat in the chair beside Sirius’s bed. Sirius instantly shot his hand out to touch Remus. 

“You’re back! We did it. Oh, Remus,” He sobbed. He’d missed this lanky, cardigan-wearing angel. “I’m so sorry,” Tears flowed down his face with no signs of stopping as he took in every atom of Remus’s being. 

“Shhh, sweetheart, shhh,” Remus hushed him, holding his hand tightly and reassuringly. 

“Where are we, Remus?” 

“Home,” Remus grinned at him. “We’re home.”

“I can’t feel my magic,” Sirius confessed. He’d been trying to summon it to fix this damn headache, but he couldn’t find it. Remus reached up and brushed Sirius’s curls off his face. 

“I think, I think they changed you as well as me,” Remus swallowed as he thought what to say. “I think they made you human,” Sirius gaped at Remus in shock but could feel the truth of his words. 

“That crazy bitch made me human!” He said, outraged. “What the actual…” But Remus cut him off by kissing him and, oh if it wasn’t the best sensation Sirius had ever felt. He greedily pulled Remus closer, his fingers weaving themselves into the soft hair at the back of his neck, like he had when he’d been a Grim.

“Ahem,” Remus pulled away but didn’t move far. 

“Sorry, Dr Pomfrey,” He smiled sheepishly at her. 

“Mhm,” She narrowed her eyes at them, but Sirius could just pick out the amusement shining through. “I want to keep Mr Black in for a while longer to check his vitals remain stable, and then you’ll be free to go,” She informed them. 

“Thank you, Dr Pomfrey,” Remus said as she left them to it. 

Two hours later, they were walking out of the hospital and back into the world. According to the local newspaper, they’d only been gone a day. Sirius found that hard to believe as it had felt like weeks in hell, but he supposed that was the point. They'd been through a lot and this was their reward, a chance to live the life they wanted together and Sirius couldn't wait. 

They walked back into Remus's village hand in hand and headed home to Remus's. They were just passing the village shop when they stopped in their tracks as the door opened, and Ethel came out. She raised her hand in greeting and bustled about rearranging the carrots and apples on the table beside the door. They waved back almost automatically in stunned silence. “We might have to think about getting a car so we can go to the next village over for a while,” Remus said under his breath in case Ethel heard him. 

“Good idea, Remus. Erm, let’s get out of here, yeah,” Sirius pulled on Remus’s hand, and they hurried down the road together, ready to start their new lives and put the whole hellish ordeal behind them.

[whyoneartheven]

What head canons do you have for the LU boys? (Yes, this is a request for you to ramble about them)

aaaahhh hello! Thanks for asking, but wow, goodness me

this will take some thinking XD

umm

ok a lot of these are a lil generic or just other people’s ideas I kinda adopted but here goes!

also I didn’t expect it when I started but this got long…

for Legend, I really like the idea of him drinking tea and still having an apple orchard. And also having honey bees! (These aren’t mine originally lol) Also I feel like post LU (this ofc may change depending on the ending) he fell into depression a little bit before digging himself out with Ravio and Zelda’s help… he cut his hair during this time. idk I just feel like that would happen. I like the idea of him having a good singing voice. (merperson stuff but also even beforehand. He definitely sang lovely duets with Marin once she taught him how) Also I feel like he’s one of those people that’s always cold! So he secretly likes to cuddle :)

with Wild, I feel like… he definitely doesn’t use recipes! This is based off how I am in his game and irl, as I just throw things together and never go back to see how I made things before, but also I feel like it just fits his personality! I think it would be hilarious if he named his horses at first after anything that had an impact on him so like, one horse is named Zelda and another is Stir Fry. Or smth XDDD Also based on my experiences in game (to an extent), I feel like he doesn’t actually care about legitimately looking fashionable… it’s more that he likes wearing things that looks crazy XD

on to Hyrule! Ok this isn’t as much a headcanon as a ship but I really ship him and Aurora; I feel like they’d be absolutely adorable together but he’s really private about it! I like to think Hyrule can sew? And I think he’d love to run around barefoot on fresh grass! And just, be in love with nature in general! And maybe he doesn’t have an eye for color; he can’t tell if colors clash or actually match. Also is it just me or does he feel like out of the entire chain he could easily be a Studio Ghibli protagonist? Just me? Idk lol

Time! I like the idea of Time and Malon having a running joke that the other is color blind, and the chain eventually picks it up! And then Time keeps mistaking one color for another (on purpose or not? We’ll never know), and every time the others go wild XD (this may or may not be based on a joke my parents have irl hehe). When Time first met Malon he was very very lactose intolerant. And drank it anyway, of course! also I feel like Time really likes flowers? Idk why! And finally, if Time was in the modern world he’d be the guy who’d be eating food months to years past the expiration date…

Four, my beloved! Umm this is kinda a design idea more than anything but I like the idea of him growing his hair out and wearing it in a ponytail post LU! (provided he doesn’t die…) I don’t think of him as having voices in his head or being a system but I still like the idea of him talking to himself sometimes XD! Also this is just something canon I don’t see talked abt a lot but I love he and Twi’s relationship sm! Four totally has RBF and definitely stares at people accidentally when he’s thinking… also I saw a crack fic somewhere where Four was already married to Dot and had children and the chain were shocked; it was hilarious, and while I don’t think he would actually have kids yet, I think it’d be hilarious if he and his Zelda are already quite far along in their relationship (as I ship them lol)

the man, the myth, the legend, WIND, is next! This man has Opinions. I feel like he’s the kind of person so have opinions on things he’s only heard of two seconds before, like automatically deciding he will like a food or deciding the other way round. (And yeahhhh I’m basing him on my brother lol) I’m definitely not the one to come up with this but Wind is probably the one with the best (and most opinionated) fashion sense (most of the others are just hopeless in varying degrees so it isn’t hard)! Maybe older him bonded with young Wars in the War of Eras over this (bc I love the idea of older wind being there), Idk XD! Also he definitely braids Aryll’s hair and is generally very responsible (I mean he’s a big brother he’s gotta be XD); he starts off almost treating LU as a bit of a vacation! Nothing will go wrong, his family is safe, and he gets new friends :D

Warriors, the wonderful man, is next! I feel like he’s very nostalgic and a little sappy. Like, just in general. He likes to look back on his happy memories! Also (once again not my idea) but I like the idea of Warriors growing up either orphaned or really poor, and living in the less palatable portion of Castle Town. (Therefore he played pickup soccer as a kid; he just feels like he would lol) I definitely ship him and his Zelda (ok tbh I ship ALL the Links with their Zeldas lol). I feel like at the point of LU they’ve talked abt it but Warriors isn’t ready (thanks to Cia and maybe just all the barriers in his mind about being inferior to her or smth) Also, give this man the craziest accent you can find and I am here for it; whoever first came up with that is a genius. Ok yeah you can probably tell I love Warriors angst

XD Sky!!! My bestieeee!! If Sky was in modern times he’d be one of those people who gets sleepy when they drink coffee, fs! He is definitely the artistic one, and maybe during LU he discovers a bunch of mediums besides woodworking that he loves (and maybe he makes a bunch of art for Sun, who knows!) This next one is based off @margindoodles2407’s Forger from her loz AU but the idea that his parents died in a house fire and he lived with Gaepora and Zelda until he was older is so cool to me! And bc of this I feel like he’d really hate being around fire (to the point of panic attacks? Maybe, maybe not). Finally, hopeless bird lover Sky is a beautiful thing. As a bird watcher myself, I cannot blame him.

Last but not least is Twilight!! This guy totally holds conversations with animals all the time and it freaks people out (they can never tell if he actually understands them)! Twi definitely has a lot of respect for kids too and talks to them like they’re adults (by using the same vocabulary and tone, not by talking about things that aren’t good for kids to hear XD) and I feel like he would write painfully cheesy love poems? Twi definitely can’t cook but I feel l Ike he also cares the most about food? Idk? ALSO LET THIS MAN QUILT. IDK I THINK HE’D BE TERRIBLE AT IT BUT STILL TRY AND IT WOULD BE FUNNY

ok, and that’s it!!! Wow, that was a lot…

and I could definitely come up with more lol

[agendabymooner]

the hamilton daycare || lh44 fic

lewis hamilton x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENSION TO THICK AND THIN

Summary: A retired Lewis Hamilton already knew how to operate while his children’s mother was out to work. So why was their trip to Monaco any different? Right… Much like his in-laws Toto Wolff and Charles Leclerc, he had to find a way to keep his kids occupied while Stevie Hamilton went to Cannes with her sisters. (based on the Charles Leclerc fic, The Leclerc Daycare)

Content warning: dad!Lewis-centric fic, EXTREMELY FLUFF UGH, slight use of explicit language, brief F1 drivers x Hearth Sisters!OFC, mentioned fatherhood, emotional intelligence, and mentions of overbearing media/journalists/shitty paparazzi, feat. dad!Toto Wolff and dad!Charles Leclerc

note: have some dad!lewis hamham <3 enjoy xx

masterlist

Lewis Hamilton disciplined himself to wake up at a decent time in the morning. He’d been retired for a couple of years now, yet his routine as a driver remained except for the practicing for the next race part. In his schedule, two kids were added to the mix.

Who would have thought Lewis was a stay-at-home dad to two of the most adorable kids ever? 

If you told him all those years ago that he’d become one, he would’ve laughed at your face. But now, he was pretty content with his life. It was still busy, of course. He still had some side projects that he would work on, but he often worked on them remotely, wanting to keep an eye on his kids as they grow continuously. He didn’t like being away from them as often— knowing that when he raced, he was often away for weeks— even months. 

His relationship with Stevie Marlene Hearth remained stable as she worked as a communications director at Ferrari — making their distance shorter than expected. But now, with kids at home, neither ever considered being away for too long. 

Stevie could make do as she could work remotely, but if Lewis hadn’t retired just as his eldest was born? Yeah, they would be screwed. He wouldn’t have been able to see his kids as much. He wasn’t about to bear that thought without feeling an ounce of guilt in his system. His wife came from a family with an absent father; he didn’t want their kids to go through that. He would have to be a shitty father first. 

And so he made himself the best father that one could be. A househusband was what his sister-in-law Sylvie had called him, and he embraced that title. He was proud to be called a stay-at-home dad. Not everyone got to drop off their kids at the preschool happily, and Lewis had every chance to do so. He welcomed this opportunity with open arms. He did everything a parent would in a domestic household. He cooked, cleaned and cared for their children just as he was about to do now.

Now, it was only 7:30 in the morning in Monte-Carlo. He was moving around the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for his kids and wife while Sylvie helped him cook as compensation for waking him up at six in the morning to open the door to his vacation home. 

“Did you feed Sassy and Jimmy?” Lewis asked Sylvie as they prepared the food. “I don’t want Max coming home later tonight to two starving cats because I haven’t fed them enough.” 

“They’ve been fed,” Sylvie scoffed out. “I left them some stuff to eat as well. Just please feed them later?” 

“I will,” Lewis replied with a nod while he prepared his kids’ breakfast. Blueberry waffles and eggs were their usual breakfast, and it didn’t even take him long to start making their fresh eggs. 

“Thanks, Lew,” Sylvie grinned as she plated the cut-up fruits. She took a slice of an apple and munched on it while she said, “Where’s my sister? Did you wake her up yet?” 

“Yeah, she should be down soon,” Lewis answered as he gestured towards the second floor, “she’s just getting her bag packed up and everything. You lots always pack a lot for people who’d only be out for a day only.”

“You’re the one to talk,” Sylvie frowned lightly. “We all took the same jet more than twice— don’t think for once I have not seen the pile of suitcases you have on top of Stevie’s mountain full of bags.”

They paused for a moment when they both heard a pattering of small feet, making them look towards the entrance of the open dining and kitchen space as two little figures with tamed curls walked in. Both were frazzled, and Lewis could only smile at the thought that they’d literally just woken up. 

“Oh! Lottie, Leland— it’s your Aunt Sylvie,” a blonde woman followed the two as Stevie Hamilton grinned at her sister. “Good morning!” 

“Morning,” Sylvie watched her nephew and niece walk up to her with their shoulders slightly slumped. The woman nearly laughed aloud at this as she said, “Is it too early for you two littles?” 

“Mornin’, Aun’ie.”

Lewis looked at both of his carbon copies’ hairs. “Lotlot- Leland,” he laughed quietly, “your hair looks very messy. Have we not combed it yet?” 

His little princess shied away from the comment, now a bit flustered after Lewis brought up the state of her bedhead. 

Lottie Cecelia Darcy Hamilton was born to a newly married Lewis and Stevie — roughly eight months after the couple wedded on Valentine's Day. He’s had a fair experience with kids — with his boss Toto and Lewis’ best friend Tilly having three children and his siblings having their own kids as a test run. But it was different when Lottie was born. It was as if everything he prepared for had disappeared. He was petrified to hold his princess for the first time, but it all disappeared when Lottie offered him a soft smile when he first spoke to her. 

He could remember how his eyes were tearing up when she smiled just as he uttered the words, “You’re so beautiful.” 

And at age five, she still remained the sweetest girl to have existed. Whenever she’d shy away from anyone, Lewis just wanted to cry, his heart full of adoration towards her. Now, as she hid herself from her dad — he couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty. 

“I’m sorry, my girl,” Lewis said softly, not wanting to make his own daughter cry.

He really couldn’t just make his kids cry — he remembered how hard he laughed after Lottie, in her 7th month, accidentally tripped on a sleeping Roscoe. He also reminded himself that Stevie caught him wailing in laughter while Lottie cried. God, he was such a horrid dad at times.

“We can get them done in braids when we hang out, hm?” 

Hearing the word ‘braid’ had his son’s eyes sparkling as he exclaimed, “Daddy, hair pretty too?”

“Of course, little man,” Lewis grinned at his son. 

“We see Mamé later?” Leland asked, excitement washing through his features as he grinned widely. 

Leland Carl Darwin Hamilton was his youngest. Lewis didn’t exactly plan on having his littles’ names have his initials, but Stevie had a knack for tributes like her sisters. He had free reign to name his son after making a bet with Stevie about the gender. He had a few months to think of it, but he was more worried about Stevie’s pregnancy than he was worried about his son getting bullied for his name. Lewis thought of Lewis Jr., but he didn’t want to make his son an extension of his name.

Lewis didn’t have a clue on what to name his son, but the moment Sylvie uttered, “He looks like a Leland,” he couldn’t help but agree and immediately snatched the idea from his in-law. So with his soft curls and his smile, Leland remained as Lewis’ mini. 

But if there was anything the retired Mercedes driver had learned from the moment his son had been born, it was that Leland was a twin brother to his Leclerc cousin, who was born a month or two after him. Yes, he was Lewis’ son, but Leland Hamilton and Sacha ‘PJ’ Leclerc were their own duo.

You see, PJ Leclerc was Stevie’s nephew — born to her youngest sister, Aimee Leclerc — and the sisters had made it a habit to lump the two together whenever possible. If the Leclercs hadn’t been living in Monaco (or if the Hamilton family moved back to the principality), PJ and Lewis’ son would’ve been sticking together like glue.

They shared a lot of stuff together, even their grandparents. PJ called Pascale Leclerc ‘Mamé’, and Leland had picked up on it and started calling her Mamé too. 

“I’m sure we will,” Lewis answered with a grin. “Nobody does your haircut better than Mamé does.”

“You’re getting him a haircut?” Sylvie’s jaw slacked, “We’re only going to be out for a day.”

“We’ve been trying to get Lels his trims done, but he wouldn’t let anyone touch his hair,” Stevie rolled her eyes, now directing her kids towards the dining table as the two began eating breakfast. The older woman continued, “But he persisted. Only Pascale could do his hair without him throwing a fit.” 

“A boy with taste, he is,” Sylvie joked, now turning towards Lewis as she asked, “Is your day out just gonna consist of getting your hair done, or are you planning to keep your kids sane?” 

“Toto texted me last night,” Lewis replied, sitting across from his kids as he grabbed his vegan breakfast from the centre of the table. “He managed to book the indoor playground for a couple of hours so his kids and their cousins could go as crazy as they wanted. So it’ll keep Lels and Lotlot busy.”

“Ah yes, the F1 father support group,” Sylvie laughed. “Is that the location this time? I’m surprised he managed to book it at the last minute?”

“If you told your sisters beforehand about a day in Cannes, we would’ve given them more notice,” Lewis replied back, making Sylvie shrug. “Or a better location.”

“I know, I’m sorry-“ Sylvie started, “but I didn't even realize how free I was until Christian decided to let the communications team go for the rest of the break after Max blew up during the interview last race.” 

“Mmm, yeah, that’s really not a problem,” Lewis waved off, “I’m just glad they’ve finally gotten off the hook now.” 

“Well, Max got an earful from me— his fiancée— on the first day of the break,” Sylvie huffed.

Sylvie was the Head of the Media Communications of the Red Bull team and had often made an effort to ensure that they wouldn’t be stupid enough to say something that would taint the team’s image as an outstanding team. Sylvie didn’t often have an issue with managing her drivers’ media duties and responsibilities, but for whatever reason, the Dutchman’s behaviour was too much to handle by any journalist. 

Sylvie continued, “I wasn’t about to let Christian nor the higher-ups just give my staff overtime because of what happened. Max needed to sort that out himself.”

“Well, they did get paid for it.”

“For a price of a certain amount of sanity, too.” 

Lewis rolled his eyes playfully as Sylvie asked, “All jokes aside. Are you sure you’re alright with us going? I can just stick to Monaco instead of going to Cannes?”

“It’s not my first rodeo,” Lewis waved off and joked, “You’d only be gone for a day. Stevie, I hope you don't miss the kids too much, though.” 

“I’m already shedding tears,” Stevie pouted playfully and sniffled, hugging Leland from behind as she said, “I’m going to miss my boy and my princess soooo much~ I wish Mummy could stay.” 

“No, Mummy,” Leland protested with a frown, “have fun, ‘member?” 

“Yes! Have fun, Mummy!” Lottie exclaimed as she munched on her waffle. “No stress in Ferrari, okay?” 

Sylvie snorted behind her glass of apple juice. Lewis offered his in-law a look as they both laughed quietly. Whatever Charles told Lottie and Leland, it rubbed off on them. Lewis couldn’t fault Charles for that, especially when he’s had his years of being fucked over by the strategies in place during the previous seasons. 

But Stevie’s disbelief was all over her face as she gasped, staring at her daughter with wide eyes. She glanced at Lewis and Sylvie before she shook her head and softly kissed Lottie’s hair. “The F in Ferrari means fun, my love. That’s what it means.” 

“What about this?” 

“Lot, princess,” Lewis looked over his shoulder as he watched his daughter stand there in a set of tracksuits. “It’s hot. Why don’t you pick something comfortable?” 

“But this is pink, Daddy,” Lottie reasoned out. “I want pink.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got more pink in your closet,” Lewis stated as he followed her into the princess-themed bedroom, glancing over at the closet before he caught a glimpse of a hot pink and reached for it. It was a see-through hot pink dress. Underneath the sheer fabric was a white playsuit that went with the dress. “See? This is much more comfortable than the trousers you’re wearing now.”

“But these trousers are for playing. White is messy, Mummy said.” 

“Yeah, but Mummy and Daddy can wash it for next time,” Lewis almost sighed. His daughter was an overthinker, much like when he first began dating Stevie.

For goodness sake, Lottie was five and already thinking too much. 

“It can be washed off, don’t you worry about it,” Lewis told his daughter gently, “besides, you will look really pretty in those. Mummy got them for you, remember?”

“Hm…” Lottie hummed before she took the hanger from her father’s hand and nodded. “‘Kay. Thank you, Daddy.” 

“Mhm,” Lewis smiled softly as he watched her run off to change her clothes. His smile never left just as he wandered off to find his son, who sat on his bedroom floor with a Christopher Robin pop-up book. “Leland.”

The boy looked up, and his eyes brightened at the sight of his father. Lewis examined the outfit he had put together for the boy: a Prada shirt that was just as colourful as any of the outfits he wore back when he was still a driver fulfilling his media duties. Leland’s little denim bucket hat covered the wild curls waiting to be trimmed and washed at Pascale’s salon. 

Despite his colourful outfit and beautiful features, Leland looked a bit… blue. His eyes dimmed a little seconds after catching sight of his dad. Lewis wondered, “How are you feeling, little man?” 

“Mummy not here,” Leland told his dad almost gloomily, “Mummy sad?” 

“What? She is not sad,” Lewis took his phone from his pocket before opening a photo Stevie sent of herself with her sisters on the road. Her smile was radiating from the screen, and it shone bright. He crouched down to show his son, “See? She’s happy. Maybe you are sad?” 

“Leland not sad,” Leland shook his head with a frown. “Leland sad because Mummy is.”

“So, how do you feel now that you know Mummy isn’t sad?” Lewis asked. As a child, he was always told to tell his parents how he felt — that his feelings shouldn’t be bottled up but explored. A child who was told to keep to himself is a child who never learned to be curious about his surroundings, making him either isolated or unthoughtful.

Stevie wasn’t raised to be selfish, either. Lewis knew she put her younger sisters before herself, asking them how they felt or if anything could make them feel better. Just as Lottie began to explore the world, Lewis learned to encourage his children to be the little adventurers that they were — to explore their surroundings and emotions. 

Much like his sister, Leland was en route to becoming an emotionally intelligent toddler, thanks to his parents. Lewis always asked Leland how he felt, especially when the child was silent. “Lels? How are you feeling, buddy?”

“Happy, Daddy,” Leland finally answered, leaving the older man to grin as Lewis reached out to wrap his arm around his son. “Happy because Mummy’s happy!”

“That is good,” Lewis nodded encouragingly. “Sissy is also happy, she said. Since you and Sissy are happy, do you know what that makes Daddy?” 

“Wha’?” 

“Happy!” Lewis grinned. He also learned how to share his feelings rather than bottling it up. If he was to teach his kids how to explore their emotions, then he should do it, too. 

The first hour outside consisted of taking a trip to Max and Sylvie’s temporary flat in Monaco, where the cats were currently roaming around as the couple spent their time back and forth between Monaco and the UK. As requested, Lewis (and his kids) fed Sassy and Jimmy and spent half their time playing with the cats. He was never a cat person, but he’d do many things just to care for his in-laws’ pets. 

Now, Lewis stood by the counter as the retired driver watched Lottie getting her braids done by a friendly hairstylist, pink extensions laced through her hair. Next to the counter was where Leland sat, his hair being cared for by Pascale Leclerc. 

“It’s a good thing you came here, Lewis,” Pascale grinned as she continued to work on Leland’s hair. “Too bad you haven’t seen Charles and the kids. They were here an hour ago to say hi.”

“We’ll see them later,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ve heard he brought his friends along.”

“Three kids in one trip isn’t exactly a good idea if it was just him so he roped Estie and Pierre into watching the boys,” Pascale replied with a giggle. “His boys are just like him and his brothers back then. So active.”

“I suppose that’s what happens when you raise your kids in a principality full of people,” Lewis joked, “they’re most likely to be more loud than serene.”

“Mamé,” Leland interrupted the adult conversation, making the two peer down at the toddler as Pascale pulled away. Leland then turned and asked, “Where is PJ?” 

Lewis laughed at the excitement in his son’s voice. Pascale chuckled and said, “You will see your cousin, my darling! Let Mamé care for your hair first, hm?”

“Yes, don’t worry about PJ right now, silly goose,” Lewis pinched his son’s cheek lightly, leaving Leland to grin at him. “You will see him later.” 

“How are you liking Lottie’s hair though?” As Lewis looked at his daughter, Pascale gestured towards the girl, who giggled at her hairdresser as the older woman spoke about princesses. “The pink extensions just came in last week— I knew Lot’s gonna love it.”

“She saw the pastel rainbow too,” Lewis grinned, “she would’ve chosen it but said she’d go match her hair with her clothes.”

“I think your little boy will get his hair braided too,” Pascale told him quietly with a grin, “he said something about the silver one— it reminds him of Mercedes.”

Lewis chuckled at this. Leland was his mini, indeed. 

Leland wasn’t even listening to them, too busy with the McLaren Tooned episode playing on Lewis’ phone. The older Hamilton merely shook his head at his son’s thoughts. “His Uncle Toto will love that.” 

“Well, let’s just hope there’s enough hair to braid after his haircut,” Pascale sighed as she continued to tend to the wild state of Leland’s hair. “This boy is very indecisive about getting the right length.”

It wasn’t rare for tourists of Monaco to come across a celebrity and have their photos taken with them. It wasn’t different from Lewis — he’s a Formula One retired driver.

He’s had things signed and photos taken while he lived in the principality, and there were times when he hadn’t needed any security. He was safe here, and no fans were insane enough to even try and act erratically towards him. But he often hesitated when it came to his children. 

Stevie and Lewis were both A-listers and continued to be so as years passed. Stevie was a supermodel — making her well-known in the fashion industry and even show business overall. Lewis became well known for his dedication to his racing career, and his fan base expanded as much as his wife’s did as she walked down the runways. If there was anything he knew about their marriage, it was that paparazzi wouldn’t leave them alone, especially after their children were born.

It was what they hated about living in the United Kingdom. They abhorred everything that most British media outlets had written about them because they were biased— mostly leaning more toward the editorial side instead of delivering the news. Lewis could remember how Stevie was practically harassed by the paparazzi when they had that nasty fight in public all those years ago. He learned to stand his ground in that situation— telling them to fuck off in the process. 

And then there’s that situation when Stevie was pregnant with Lottie. She almost got knocked out by a reporter who wanted to get a good story, only for Lewis to scream at the man and practically threaten to end his season early if that kind of harassment continued in the paddock. Since then, FIA had a strict policy on journalists outside the F1 media, keeping a safe distance from the guests and staff. 

These situations scared Lewis Hamilton. The fact that his children were out in the world, trying to explore it while cameras were on them all the freaking time? It wasn’t something that he ever enjoyed living with. So he tried to keep them at a safe distance from the cameras and the public, allowing them to explore their curiosities without being exposed to the nastiest side of the media. 

But the tourists of Monaco understood his worries and how they kept their distance from the kids and Lewis while they politely asked for photos with him, nearly had him giving out his whole wallet as a gift of appreciation. His kids didn’t feel scared around these strangers but asked if they could be in the photos.

“Can I be in the photo, Daddy?” Lottie asked as she smiled up at him and the pair of fans that stood with admiration. The fans thought that Lottie and Leland were the cutest, and they wouldn’t say no.

Lewis was alright with it, too. “Yes, of course, princess. Come here,” he pulled her next to him. 

“Daddy, me too!” Leland exclaimed before coming up to hug Lewis on the leg. The three smiled widely with the pair of fans, getting their photos taken before Lewis looked back at his fans.

“Thank you sooo much!” The one on the left’s eyes brightened as she gushed, “You are so amazing. And you have kind kids!” 

“Oh! Thank you!” Lewis replied, equally as happy before he wrapped his arms around both his kids. “They are very polite. Their Mummy and Daddy taught them to be nice to others. I’m glad they are practicing it.”

“How old are they?” The other asked.

Lewis looked down at his daughter, “Lottie, how old are you?” 

“FIVE!” Lottie stuck out her hand, showing five of her fingers.

“TWO!” Leland answered after, making Lewis smile. 

“Do you want to see something?” The fans nodded before he beamed in pride and asked Lottie, “Lotlot, if you add five and two, what number would you have?”

Lottie paused for a second before murmuring quietly to herself, the adults watching her as she counted on her fingers. “Four…five…six…” then she looked up at them and answered, “Seven, Daddy.”

“…and they’re smart, too— ugh!” The fans squealed. “I wasn’t even interested in maths at her age.” 

Lewis continued to smile, offering his fans a big grin. It wasn’t every day he got to meet fans who weren’t so invasive when it came to his privacy— or those who were too overbearing and would scare his kids away. If only everyone were like them, then maybe Lewis would’ve been more open to sharing his life with the public without any hesitation. 

Lewis eyed the cotton candy bag on the indoor cafe table, wondering if it was left open on purpose as he glanced at his in-laws. Charles Leclerc sat there and shrugged, indicating that it wasn’t his kids. Then, the British man looked at his other in-law, who was once his team principal when he still raced. 

Toto Wolff sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, grabbing the plastic bag as he tucked it into his daughter’s opened backpack and muttered, “Your niece has a bad habit of leaving things out for the littles to get sugar rush on. I keep telling her to put her stuff away so it doesn't get stolen and it's clearly not working.”

“We know, Toto,” Lewis chuckled with a shake of his head before looking at Charles, “it was a good thing the little ones found the playground first before the sweets.”

Pierre Gasly and Esteban Ocon were also in the cafe and made their presence known to Lewis as they returned with a tray, and five mugs of ice cream were waiting to be held. The sight of the desserts left Toto, Lewis and Charles groaning. 

“Gasly, I hope that isn’t for any of the kids,” Toto started, already too annoyed at the thought of feeding his youngest this amount of ice cream. Seeing the energy of the Leclerc kids already took out Toto’s energy, so for his youngest to get sugar high wasn’t on the books.

“Non,” Pierre replied with a smirk before grabbing a spoon and taking the cloud mug off the tray. He scooped up some of his chocolate ice cream before indulging in it. He then said, “It’s hot outside. We shouldn’t leave the ice creams to the kids and have some for ourselves.”

“I like your thinking,” Lewis and Toto nodded before they both reached for the cold dessert. 

Their conversation shifted from the desserts to the fathers’ vacation with the kids. Pierre and Esteban merely listened as they had nothing to offer regarding a conversation about kids. Neither of them had any.

Toto nearly went on a tangent about his daughter’s stubbornness and his son’s overwhelming practice days. According to him, Tia kept forgetting that karting was what she needed to take a break from. The girl barely gave herself some time off and often insisted on getting driven straight to the karting track in Brackley for practice by the family chauffeur. She was nine and already insisting on being extremely perfect at the league. 

Not only that, but Toto’s eldest, Soren, was barely given a break from his school’s association football practice; his coach was a douche, and if the men didn’t know any better as they were listening to Toto, they would have immediately said that the coach was trying to make the school team into a Premier League-level team. It was a private school, not a football academy. If Toto and Tilly hadn’t pulled Soren out of his practice (during his summer break), he wouldn’t have made it to Monaco with his siblings. Toto also expressed how close he was to a fistfight with Soren’s football coach.

Then Lewis continued to sit there as Charles told them about his day with his sons so far. The kids baked cookies earlier today with their Uncle Estie and watched The Princess and The Frog after Hervé, Charles’ son, cried at the thought of his mom not being home. He then stated how worried he was about tucking the kids in tonight because he never did it alone. His wife was always with him to do it. Lewis and Toto only said that he would do perfectly fine as long as he did what he normally does on their bedtime - telling them stories, tucking them in and everything else. 

Charles’ worry eventually withered away, leaving Lewis to tell the men on the table how his day had been going. They all kept their eyes on their children as they wreaked havoc at the playground, with Toto’s two eldest at the arcade area. 

“...I’ve met some fans today,” Lewis continued on, “They were so polite, and the kids were surprisingly not scared of them.”

“They must’ve kept themselves at a distance then,” Esteban replied, “which is very good.”

“The kids are sociable, they are,” Lewis told the men, “they just tend to be scared of other people because they get hounded real fast whenever they see me or Stevie. It’s not just us, right?”

Charles nodded, “PJ doesn’t like the journalists. Some assholes still shove their cameras on the kids’ faces, and it takes me a good while to not break them. Remember Silverstone last year? PJ cried hard because of the flashes and the screaming of the paparazzi.”

Lewis’s heart broke at the statement, “Poor lad.”

“That’s why I think Monaco’s safer at times,” Toto murmured, “nobody’s bothering the kids whenever they’re out.”

“I’ve always considered getting a security for them,” Lewis shrugged.

“Why don’t you? It’s good if you did,” Pierre piped up, sipping on his water.

Lewis then answered, “Our home in Warwick’s pretty secluded and Lottie’s preschool is very accommodating. I like the thought of getting security, but at the same time, I don’t believe that we need that just yet. We’d need it for public events but for daily? No, I don’t think we need it.”

“Speaking of preschool,” Charles interjected before he asked Lewis, “Herb and Jules are telling me about this book that they saw from Lottie. It’s phonics, I think? J- Jol–”

“Oh! Jolly Phonics,” Lewis suggested, leaving the Monegasque to nod eagerly. “Yes, Lottie got a lot of those books. It was what they have in their preschool.”

“Yeah, the boys said they love it,” Charles pursed his lips, “will you send me the link to it? I’ve been wondering what the titles are, but I've had no luck. Aimee was struggling to figure it out, too.”

“Definitely, I’ll send the Amazon link to you,” Lewis nodded as Charles murmured ‘thanks.’

“You know what, Charles,” Toto piped up, making the men turn to him, “I’ll also send you some links to the Italian and French phonics that we got the kids. I find it quite helpful when they learn it at home, too. Have you ever thought of flashcards?”

“Oui,” Charles nodded, “but I would have to make them myself, non? I can’t buy it.”

“I am sure there are some resources you can get them from,” Toto replied, “but Tilly always made them by hand. She printed them and laminated them. The kids really liked them because they were the ones putting the answers in.”

“What about you, Lewis?” Charles asked, “Do you have the same?”

Lewis grimaced, “We do our phonics on the iPad.”

“Maybe that’s what I should do, though,” the retired driver continued as he hummed, “it’ll definitely be a hands-on experience for Lottie and Leland. Do you reckon your wife still has the links to the printables, Toto?”

DADDIES, DEBRIEFED! Formula One drivers and team principal discuss teaching strategies at home as Toto Wolff shows a photo of preschool books in his phone.

“Indoor playgrounds, pastel mugs and… serious discussion of at-home learning? Now, this is a story I can get behind!”

CHARLES LECLERC, PIERRE GASLY, ESTEBAN OCON AND LEWIS HAMILTON listen in as Toto speaks seriously in this photo!

“What could they be talking about, you ask? Simple: learn phonics and preschool lessons at home and make it as fun as playtime!”

NAME ONE THING HOTTER THAN THE MONACO SUN. We’ll hint: Formula One drivers being the hottest dads as they take their kids for a day out in the principality.

“When is it Max Verstappen’s turn? No, the cats and the dog do not count.”

“Daddy?” Lewis Hamilton had a thick skin. Nothing could break him, really. But his confidence towards the possibility of being vulnerable to anything weakened as he became a father to two of the most precious humans in the world. He had a weak spot, but he was okay with it.

He was never prepared for anything, though. When he turned around to face his daughter, already tucked in her bed after a bedtime story, his smile softened as Lottie asked him, “Are you happy?”

“Of course, I am, my girl,” Lewis nearly cried on the spot as he continued, “why did you ask? Are you happy?”

“I am,” Lewis could tell that Lottie was already falling asleep, but it never stopped her from grinning as she said, “But Mummy said that we ask others if they are happy too.”

“Yes, because we don’t know if they are happy or not,” Lewis walked back to her direction before crouching down, “And other people would not know if you don’t answer them. Mummy’s right, princess, and you are such a smart girl for remembering.”

Lewis tucked the strand of curl behind her ear and kissed her forehead, “Now, sleep tight, my love. You can continue being happy in your dreams, hm?”

“Good night,” Lottie murmured before she drifted off to sleep, “Love you, Daddy.”

Lewis peered down at her and smiled softly, whispering in the air, “And I love you.”

If someone asked Lewis how he was feeling, he’d say that he was happy that the Hamilton daycare in Monaco was a success. 

fin.

[thelittlediaperidol]

Hello! Do you post anywhere else? You post great content and seem so very genuine, but Tumblr has been so aggressive with their moderation.

I do! But I’m super careful on Tumblr these days because you can get banned whether you break the rules or not, is all about whether or not you’ve had a large amount of people report your post then it will get hidden and if that happens enough your account will get deleted….

so is important when using tags to not use ddlg tags or commonly searched words like “sexy gir” or anything that a large amount of vanilla people would be searching for because if you do a lot of those people get freaked out or weirded out and they will report the post even if there’s no rules broken. My first Tumblr reached just about 200,000 followers before it got deleted with no explanation and no way to appeal… so almost all of us, girls have back up tumblers, which is allowed, in case our mains get deleted, which happens pretty frequently, even though I’ve been in the top 10 a few times there are certain models that are basically untouchable for whatever reason, you will never see the ABbTumblr page get deleted, You will never see Apple or Faye’s account deleted As well as some of the other girls that have been doing this for like seven years or more. but 70% or more of our revenue comes through people that find us on Tumblr… so is a necessary evil in my opinion 🫠 thas why I’m a dumb drooly baby cuz dada take care of all that for me, we are a team 🥰. I think I’m probably one of the only girls that actually lives as a baby 24 seven. dada an I do have serious thoughts when buying a new home or car. I have never actually called him by his real name. I have always only called him, Dada or daddy hehe. but at this point I’ve been in diapers 24 seven for so long I have legitimately forgotten what it feels like to be potty trained or to have the ability to hold in number one or number two. is tha ultimate humiliation an dada always pulls my diaper band back to see if my diaper is dirty or not yet, no matter where we are or what we’re doing. no even though we carry around a diaper bag, powder, etc. and my stuffy We are very careful out in public to never expose our kink to anyone, but there have been a few accidents, like if I’m leaning over to grab something off the bottom shelf there has been times where my diaper is in full view, and when I turned around there is like 20 or more people looking! So that was utterly terrifying and humiliating, and I legitimately did not mean to do that tha diapers are so normal and natural to me at this point that I usually don’t even think about them. they have gotten to the point where there is many times where I haven’t even realized that I pooped my pants until dad walks in and announces it to me and whatever friend I’m with whether they are fellow models or not, all of my friends already know, and they’re OK with it, being off by your husband to have your poopy diaper changed oh, while your best friend knows exactly what you just did is so incredibly humiliating being humiliated like that is one of my biggest turn ons… you have to be so careful to be respectful of our community and of our friends so I’ve had talked with all my friends and asked if it’s OK that this an dada leading by tha arm to a handicap bathroom and then bring me back, fresh and clean, usually with a bottle in my hand. I always ask my friends if they want to try and it’s rare that they say yes, which is perfectly OK! But every now and then one of them is curious and they want to try wearing a diaper and sucking on the pacifier when we play video games…i can tell some of them want to try so badly but they’re way too embarrassed to admit it but a few of them have played mommies in the videos with me or mistaken babysitters, that somehow went to the wrong house and think I’m the toddler that needs to be babysitted regardless of how much I protest or beg! but we never suddenly spring this, on any of our friends ever, we usually write a script, tell them what I do for a living, if they have any sign of interest, they tell them more, and I invite them to join in and some capacity if they would like to, but never pressure, always all about consent, Then, even before I considered myself, an ABDL i really should have been in diapers because of always had a very weak bladder that led to many many embarrassing accidents over the years…

but this is the life I wanted to live and it genuinely makes me happy and we make a good living doing this. Of course, every single person in my life, including all of my family members and extended family members no now thanks to a nasty cousin of mine, telling everyone… happened a long time ago and it doesn’t bother me anymore except for the fact that my girl cousins that are my age know that I’m wearing a messy diaper when a Thanksgiving dinner and they know when I get pulled to the side by daddy what’s going on (mega red cheeks).

Never wanted to involve my family in any capacity whatsoever, but we were forced to and I didn’t lie about it. I just said that I need them and this is just how it is now….

Littlediaperidol #babygurl #I needmydiapers

ab_dl

[pearlofthesirens]

For My Princess Only: Chapter 2

summary: You did not expect yourself to fall for a commoner, that too a bandit out of all the men who wanted you. But what happens when your safety is threatened and your father, the king, learns about your secret lover? pairing: Bandit!Kyle Gaz Garrick x Princess!Reader warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader of arab/south asian descent, slight cursing, historic misogyny and objectification of women mentioned now playing: Nainowale Ne by Neeti Mohan word count: 1283 words(one thousand two hundred and eighty three words)

"How much for a dozen of these apples, brother?"

"36 coins, madam."

"36? I swear you people are raising the prices, last month it was 24 coins."

"These are from the new harvest, dear. They arrived fresh this very morning."

"Fine, fine. I'll take it for 36 coins."

The fruit vendor happily received the payment and handed her the dozen apples in your bag, totally unknown to him that he was talking to the princess. How would he? Her face was hidden by a stole wrapped around her head and face. Women in her kingdom never failed to practice modesty through clothes and to blend in, she had to do the same. It protected her from the immense heat too.

It wasn't until she walked quite a distance from that shop to another one that she heard a commotion. Turning back, she was more than enthusiastic to see the same man from the day she was out with her father. He seemed to be in trouble, the fruit vendor holding his hand which had an apple in it.

"You thief! You think you can just take my fucking fruits and walk off without paying?!"

"Of course, he didn't pay." Princess laughed to herself and walked towards them to solve the issue. Raising a hand, she stopped the vendor from almost killing the man out of anger and took the apple from his hand.

"Don't worry, I'll pay for his purchase."

"Madam, this is a thief you're wasting your coins on!"

"Thieves don't steal something they don't consider a need. Food is an essential everyone deserves. Please add two more of these to the tally."

The 'thief' was dumbstruck seeing someone pay for him. He looked at her in awe, wondering who this generous woman was. Her eyes seemed familiar, he swore he had seen them before. After spending a few more coins on the extra fruits, she handed them to the man and proceeded to walk away, thinking that he will not recognize her since her face was hidden behind all the fabric. But he followed after her, with the biggest beaming smile on his face.

"Wait! Kind lady, please!"

She turned around again to find him tailing after her and this time, she could see his grin up close. He was like a fresh breath of oxygen, like a flower blooming in a desert, like a drink of chilled water in scorching heat.

"How do I repay you? You did more than just help me!"

"Consider it as a kind gesture, sir."

"You didn't just save me from that guy, you got me more than what I needed! I cannot just walk away without any recompense."

She took a deep breath in, hesitating to attempt what she wanted to. But she shook off all her negative thoughts as her fingers slowly rose up to her face, unclasping the fabric which concealed her features. And he saw, eyes wide at her identity being revealed.

"P-Princess..? Your Highness, I-"

She immediately covered her face back, putting a finger against his soft lips. She let her fingers wander up on his face, letting her palm fully rest on his cheek. For a moment, it seemed as if both of you found whatever you were looking for in each other. He found kindness in her and she found liberty.

"Let this remain a secret between us, hmm?"

It was enough to silence him, the only thing he could hear at that moment was her voice and the pounding of his heart in his chest. Every other noise faded away when her eyes scrunched up in a smile. She was just as beautiful in regular attire as she was in royal clothes, draped with the finest silk and jewelry. The lack of glamour did not take away her beauty or her kindness.

"R-Right, yes...I'm terribly sorry for burdening you with my troubles."

"It's nothing. I'm happy to help you."

She continued to browse through shops as he followed her, now with her consent. She stopped in front of a jewelry shop, checking out the trinkets laid in front of them. Her eyes wandered towards a specific jewel, something she thought would fit the rogue she had already made a plan to heal and set on a good path.

"Since you already know who I am, may I have your name?"

He felt the blood rush into his cheeks when he realized he did not even tell her his name. His hands shot up to his chest and he held his head low, earning an inaudible chuckle out of the jewel merchant who thought he was being courteous towards the lady.

"Kyle Garrick, Your High-"

She gave him a quick glare, reminding him that she was still in disguise. He coughed and collected himself before embarrassing himself in front of the princess anymore.

"Ahem- it's Kyle Garrick, madam. My friends call me Gaz."

"Kyle, hmm...got a nice ring to it. I hope to see you often."

"Of course, ma'am. Anyti-"

"Not while you're stealing something. I don't want to see you do that again."

"I-I..of course, yes..."

She saw the way his smile dropped and he appeared ashamed, and let out a brief breathy laugh. He looked adorable, almost like a little boy who got caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"Do you have a job? Anything you do for money?"

"N-No, ma'am..haven't had a stable one."

Nodding, she noted it down in her head before buying a gold chain with a bright garnet pendant from the merchant. With a swift movement of her hands, she swung the chain over Kyle's neck and stepped back to see how he looked with it on. "Definitely handsome", she thought, "but a few changes could do."

"Do you know how to ride horses?"

"I do, ma'am."

"Fend off an assailant?"

"Yes."

"If given a sword or a weapon of sorts, would you be able to safely use it?"

"Of course."

He could only stand with his hands behind his back, feeling her eyes trail from his face down to his abdomen. Her gaze felt scrutinous, as if she was making a conclusion out of his visuals. He definitely wasn't wearing his best, a tattered shirt and dirty trousers. His shoes were on the verge of falling apart, hair messy and unruly.

"Come to the palace tomorrow. I think I can get you to do something that you'd be whole-heartedly devoted to, for a hefty wage of course."

For Kyle, shocked would be an understatement. He was getting a employed at the royal palace? That too because of the princess, Her Highness?

"But I'm just a-"

"You're a man who is competent. And it would hurt me to not fix you with an occupation which could possibly bring you enough money so you won't have to resort to improper ways again."

He opened his mouth to protect, but the sympathetic on her face made him stop on his tracks. It was the princess of his kingdom herself pleading him to become better.

"Please, Kyle...let me."

And who was he to refuse the princess herself? He let out a chuckle, feeling defeated. Running his fingers through his hair, he met her eyes again and nodded. If it made her happy, then he was ready to do anything.

"Then I shall visit the palace tomorrow at your request, Your Highness."

He whispered the last part, making her giggle. She was successful in making a decision of her own which would benefit a man, it was a small step towards freedom. Her eyes, rimmed with kohl, crinkled as she smiled, and he felt as though he could never look at anyone else with such adoration.

proofread ✓ pearly venus, 16:15 240617

masterlist for my princess only series

[thetravelerwrites]

Yew (Part 2)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences  Relationship: Male Centaur/Male Centaur  Additional Tags: Exophilia, Centaurs, MLM, Sex Content Warnings: Amputee, Amputated Leg, Prosthetics Series: Part 12 of Monster Lovers: Shelter Forest  Words:  4,911

Yew finally gets his own fic! Yew makes his very first rescue: a surly centaur dumped on the side of the road. Please reblog and leave feedback!

It took more than two months for Ethari to even attempt moving around for longer than a few seconds. The trip to the latrine had caused his fever to spike quite high again, so he was largely immobile for another week afterward. A modified pan was created for his use, which made things a little easier, but he grumbled sourly about it. Ethari’s stump was closed up and the stitches removed, but he was instructed not to do anything that would reopen the wound. After months of healing, however, he was finally in a place where he didn’t feel like pounded garbage, though he was still weak and shaky. 

Ethari was still mistrustful of the entire situation. He didn’t believe they were helping him for no other reason than they wanted to help; in his experience, everything came with a price. He made an effort to not be aggressive or hostile, but everything about this place got his hackles up. He was just so ready for the other hoof to drop that he felt like he couldn’t relax. He would have been more comfortable if they had been demanding compensation for feeding and housing him; that would have made sense to him. The freedom with which they doled out care and attention seemed impossible, even suspicious.

Yew did a lot to shake Ethari’s faith in the idea that nothing comes for free. He was always chipper and bright, like a lighthouse, and just as any such beacon would, he drew Ethari’s eye when he was nearby. He was always there to help when Ethari needed to get up and move around to prevent his remaining legs from atrophying, by using his own body as support. Yew even brought fresh winter flowers every day to decorate Ethari’s relatively bare stall. It seemed he favored snow-drops, since he always sprinkled them into each bouquet. He always found a way to wrangle beer from Birch, who still didn’t like Ethari, and brought him treats from the winter larder. His persistent cheeriness made Ethari feel more dour in comparison.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Ethari asked him one morning. 

“Doing what?” Yew asked, his curious puppy tone in place. Yew was removing the last of the bandages after having brought him apple jam and wheat crackers with his beer and flowers… just because, it seemed. 

“This,” Ethari replied, waving at the scene. 

Yew laughed. “Because you’re cute, I like you.” 

Ethari blinked and his head rocked back. “Excuse me?” 

“I like you,” Yew said, meeting his eye and smiling. “I think you’re cute.”

“Wha… who… cute how?” Ethari asked, flabbergasted. “What about me is cute? I’m grumpy and sour.” 

“I think that’s cute,” He said, tilting his head. “Am I not allowed to think it’s cute?” 

“I guess you are, but it makes you a weirdo,” Ethari snipped.

Yew laughed a bit more: a tinkling, bell-like sound. “I’m alright with that. Does me thinking you’re cute bother you?” 

“Well… no…” Ethari said slowly. “I guess not. You’re… do you…” 

“Like men?” Yew asked with a grin. “Yep. And you, apparently, are just my type. Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are by the realization.” 

Ethari didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing. 

“Would it bother you that I like you?” Yew asked with the same cheeky grin, though there was a hint of apprehension.

Ethari gulped. “...no.” 

Ethari was only a year or two older than Yew, and though he had a passing crushes on one or two of the others at the ranch, building relationships there, friendships even, were heavily discouraged on threat of punishment, so he had never acted on it nor attempted to make friends or lovers. Now that he was off the ranch…

“Cetzu is coming back with your prosthesis,” Yew told him. “He sent us a letter saying that should be here tomorrow, barring any unforeseen circumstances. He’s only fitting you with the prosthetic tomorrow, so you won’t be using it right away. Mama will let you know when you can start using it.”

“Fine,” Ethari replied, moving the stump a little to ease the tense muscles. 

“Mama gave me a salve for you, too,” Yew said, pointing at a jar next to the jam and crackers. “You’ll need it for the muscle aches and the flashes of pain. Do you think you’re able to put it on by yourself?” 

“I’ll do fine,” Ethari insisted. “You’re awful fond of that mama of yours.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yew said with a chuckle. “She’s my mama.”

“She’s not even your real mother.” 

“Yes, she is,” Yew said, his tone suddenly cold, and it was the first time Ethari saw a flash of anger in Yew’s eyes directed at him. “And you don’t get to say otherwise. Nobody does.” 

“Alright, alright,” Ethari said, taken aback. “Sorry, damn. I’m just saying, you’ve got all that love for a human, but what about your birth mother?” 

“I don’t know who she is. Or my birth father, for that matter. Never met ‘em.”

“What do you mean? How do you not know the person who gave birth to you?” 

“The ranch where I came from practiced forced breeding. My birth mother gave birth to me against her will. We were taken away from our mothers at birth and raised in isolation by the ranch hands, to discourage us from forming bonds with the other centaurs. The only one I was ever close to was Birch, and that was only because he was the one in the stall next to mine. Once I was given a stall, that is. The ‘nursery’ they kept us in was basically a closet” 

“Gods,” Ethari breathed, blinking. “Is that place here? In this country?” 

“No, it’s on the big continent up north. We swam here to get away.” 

“Good on you for that,” Ethari said. “Gods. I can’t imagine not having my mother there. It was the one thing that made that place bearable.” 

“How did she die? Was she worked to death?” 

Ethari frowned in horror. “Was that common on your ranch?” 

“Oh, yeah, happened all the time.” 

“My word. No, no, she was ill for a while before her death.” Ethari squinted suspiciously at Yew. “How are you so damned cheery, after all that? That would break the spirit of most people.” 

Yew shrugged. “I was only seven when we escaped, so maybe I wasn’t fully broken yet. In any case, no matter what happened back then, it’s back then. It doesn’t matter to me now. I’m happy now. I love the farm, even though the work is similar to the ranch. It’s hard work, but it doesn’t feel bad to do it like it did on the ranch. I even enjoy it. The food that I plant and pull up nourishes my family and keeps them well and happy, and that makes me happy in turn. It’s hard to be sad in this place. It’s like heaven to me. I never, ever want to leave here.” 

Ethari was quiet for a moment, contemplative. 

“Do you think I could be like that?” He asked suddenly.

“Like what?” 

“Like you. Happy. I don’t even know what that feels like. I don’t know if I’m capable of it.”

Yew laughed incredulously. “Sure you are, everyone is. It’s just a matter of finding something that makes you happy. For me, it’s this place. My siblings must feel the same way, too, since many of them have decided to stay, even after marrying and having children. This place is a balm for the soul. What’s that thing in the desert where there’s water? O…oasis? It’s like that.” 

“Could it be like that for me?” Ethari wondered, mainly to himself. 

“Time will tell, I suppose.” Yew stood from his kneeling position and made to leave. “But I certainly hope so. Now eat your jam, you need your energy.”

“Sure, sure,” Ethari said, waving him off.

Cetzu did, indeed, arrive the next day, meeting Ethari in his stall with a wooden leg he had carved. There were straps and cloth padding added to the attachment, but it still looked like it would be very uncomfortable. Getting used to it would be a chore, he could already tell.

“Do you think I’ll be able to run?” Ethari asked quietly. “I’ve always been hitched to equipment or sequestered in stalls. I’ve never been able to go on a full run before. I’ve always wanted to.” 

“I don’t know,” Cetzu said with sympathy. “But you should at least be able to walk with no issues in time. You’ll need a lot of therapy in order to do so, however. A practice buddy will help you. Yew would be perfect for that, he helps a lot of the larger folks get back on their feet when we have to nurse them back to health. He’s pretty well known around here for it.” 

“It would be Yew, wouldn’t it?” Ethari said snidely, though he wasn’t unhappy with the thought, much to his own surprise. 

“Could be worse,” Cetzu said. “Besides, it’s gonna be a slow process. You have to get used to using it gradually. He’s the best for that kind of thing. He’s quite patient.” 

Which meant he’d be spending a lot of time with Yew, Ethari realized, and he felt… relieved and apprehensive at the same time. He was starting to get used to Yew’s upbeat attitude and bright disposition, but he wasn’t sure if Yew would be able to stand him for that long. Sure, he said he thought Ethari’s grumpiness was cute, but even he knew it could wear thin after a while. Hell, he got sick of himself pretty often. 

“Can you stand on your own?” Cetzu asked.

Ethari shook his head.

“One moment,” Cetzu said, standing and exiting the stall.. “Yew!” 

Yew trotted up and peeked in. It seemed like he was always closeby “Yes?” 

“I need to get this fellow up to make sure the new leg is the right length. Can you help him?” 

“Oh, certainly. Up you get, Ethari.” 

Ethari made a grunting effort and, with the help of Yew and Cetzu, managed to stand up, feeling terribly off balance. Cetzu quickly strapped the new leg to the stump and encouraged Ethari to put his weight on it gingerly, just to see if it was the adequate length. Satisfied, Cetzu encouraged Ethari to walk around his room briefly, just to see if it functioned well. It was painful and uncomfortable, as Ethari predicted, but not in a way that couldn’t be adapted to. 

There was a slight drag that Cetzu said he could correct, no problem. Satisfied, Cetzu took the leg for some fine tuning and finishing adjustments, and left Ethari to rest. Yew was about to close the door to the stall when he was called by a feminine voice from the door. 

“Hey Sunflower, one of the irrigation pipes is clogged. Declan wants you to clean it out before nightfall.” 

An owl harpy stalked into view, looking into the stall with curiosity. She had lethal talons and lots of feathers in a multitude of earth tones. She wore no clothing to cover herself. 

“Don’t leer, Sayo,” Yew said. 

“I’m just curious,” She said. “I heard he was almost worse than me when I got here. Is that true, Sunflower?” 

“At least he didn’t scratch the bajeezus out of me, like you did. Be nice, Sayo,” Yew said, waving at Ethari as he left.

“I wouldn’t expect a harpy to be in a place like this.” Ethari said, sizing her up. 

“Most people wouldn’t,” She said, coming close and ruffling her feathers. 

“Why are you here, then?” 

“Because I am,” Sayo replied gruffly. “What’s it to you?” 

Ethari snorted and didn’t answer. Boy, if he didn’t see a little of himself in this prissy thing. “Did you come here to gawk at me? If so, you can shove off, I’m not in the mood to do tricks for you.” 

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” She asked him suddenly, her mischievous eyes sobering. “This place. You’re having trouble adjusting to it, aren’t you? I know. I still have trouble adjusting, even after fifteen years.” 

Ethari’s head rocked back at the sudden admission. “How did you know that?”

“I heard Yew talking about it. He’s all morose because he can’t cheer you up.”

Ethari wondered at Yew talking to other people about him, but said nothing about it. “Why is it hard for you to adjust? Were you on a ranch, like Yew?” 

Sayo shook her head in disgust as she sat on the threshold of the stall door. “I’d sooner end my own life than be a slave like that. I came from a coven of harpies who reside in the mountains to the west.” 

“So how did you end up here?” 

Sayo shrugged her shoulders, not in an “ I don’t know ” way, but in an “ it is what it is ” way. “My mother was the coven leader and didn’t like competition. I was attacked by the coven when I started to get too old to be submissive. I guess I mouthed off one too many times, because she ordered me to be killed and the entire coven descended upon me in a ritual execution, including my own siblings. My aunt felt pity for me and snuck me out while I was pretending to be dead, before they consumed me. I’m not sure how, but I ended up here.” 

Ethari was quiet. He hadn’t even met everyone on the farm yet, but their stories were all so diverse. There was only one thing that tied them all together. 

“Life in the coven was a struggle,” She continued when Ethari didn’t respond. “We fought over everything and everything was a competition. We competed for food, our place in the hierarchy, mating rights, anything you can think of. We didn’t help each other, because helping was the fastest way to get stabbed in the back. No one did anything ‘nice’ for others without harboring bad intentions. It took me so long to adapt to the farm here because none of it felt real. It seemed like a trick my mother had concocted to trap me. Even now, I sometimes have the feeling that I’ll blink and be back in the ritual, being shredded to death to appease my mother’s bloodlust.” 

Ethari’s brow furrowed. “How did you deal with it? I can’t get comfortable, everything feels so foreign. I… I can’t trust anyone, even if I want to. And… I really want to.” 

“Yew really got to you, huh?” Sayo said, her owlish face grinning. “They do that here. It’s hard to get out of this place without changing fundamentally in some way.” 

“I can see that.” 

Sayo shrugged again, her feathers whispering against each other like sand in the wind. “My advice? It’s gonna take time, just like with that leg of yours. It’s going to feel strange for a long time. There’s no way around that. The only thing you can do is trust.” 

“Trust who?” 

“Whoever. Yew, Me, Birch, Cetzu. Yourself. It doesn’t matter. Find something to trust in and it’ll come easier to you.”

“What if I can’t?” Ethari asked plaintively.

“Then you’ll be stuck, like I was for a long time. Moving forward is impossible if you’re stuck in the past. Trust is the only way.”

“Did you find someone to trust?” 

“Yeah,” Sayo said. “My little brother, Asahi. He just… attached himself to me when I arrived, like a barnacle. I hated him and was uncomfortable with him, since he was male, but he grew on me slowly. He showed me all the treasures that he had hidden, little shells and colored rocks and shiny bits. Garbage to most people, but things he cherished. He doesn’t have a mean or spiteful bone in his body. He taught me that I didn’t have to compete for affection, because he had plenty to spare for everyone. It’s strange to me that he’s a teenager now. I almost expected him to stay a baby forever.” Sayo smiled. “He’s my best friend. You should get one too.” 

Ethari breathed a sigh out of his nose. “Why do you call Yew Sunflower?” He asked, suddenly curious.

Sayo laughed. “I was extremely uncomfortable around men when I arrived, so I started calling the men by the names of things I liked, like flowers, to make myself feel less anxious. If I thought of them as flowers, I wasn’t as scared. You’re Dogwood, by the way.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

Yew returned, and Sayo stood up, making to leave. 

“Does it really help?” Ethari asked Sayo as she stepped away. “Giving your trust to someone?” 

Sayo nodded and smirked. “It makes all the difference.”

Four days later, Ethari was cleared to start rehabilitating using the prosthesis, and Yew helped Cetzu put the new leg on. 

“Thirty minutes,” Cetzu said. “You gotta work up to long term use slowly, or you’ll ruin yourself.” 

“I get it, I get it,” Ethari said, settling into the leg uncomfortably and grunting. “You’ve said that five times now.”

“Just being cautious,” Cetzu said. “If you end up damaging the stump even more than it is now by doing too much too fast, you’ll end up completely immobile, so it doesn’t hurt to repeat myself, just so you really listen.

“If you can make it around the field without my help, I’ll give you a surprise,” Yew promised. “I think you’ll like it.” 

Ethari snorted. “If you say so.” 

Ethari went out of the barn on his own for the first time, slowly and gingerly limping on his new leg. He was grateful he had four legs rather than two, or he’d be flat on his face by now. It was painful, and he wanted to lie back down almost immediately, but he couldn’t let himself do that. He was free for the first time in his life. He wasn’t going to let having a missing leg stop him now. 

However, once around the field was grueling. He had to walk a little, take a break, and repeat. Yew trailed behind Ethari by a short distance, ready to help if he needed it. 

“You’re doing great, Ethari,” Yew said. “You can make it.” 

Ethari didn’t have the energy to tell him to be quiet, so he didn’t say anything, only focused on getting back into the barn. Once he made it in, he struggled to stand so that Cetzu and Yew could remove the leg, and then collapsed, exhausted. 

“You did it,” Yew said after Cetzu left. “I knew you could! I’m so proud of you.” 

“Shut up and let me catch my breath,” Ethari gasped, leaning his body against the wood of the stall. Yew fell silent, and Ethari spent the next few minutes gulping down air. When he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and saw Yew kneeling right in front of him, a cute smile on his face. 

“Well?” Ethari asked weakly. “Did I earn my surprise or not?” 

Yew’s grin widened. “I’d say so,” He said, and took Ethari’s face in his hands. Before Ethari could ask what he was doing, Yew kissed him. 

It was a short peck on the lips, and Ethari surprised himself by pulling Yew in and deepening the kiss. It started simple, but it ended up a mess of teeth and tongues and Yew’s moans against Ethari’s lips. Ethari could feel himself become aroused, and stopped, breathing hard. 

“I told you you’d like it,” Yew said, also breathless and grinning.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethari said, though he didn’t release Yew. Instead, he pulled him into an embrace and kissed his neck and shoulder.

“You’re more receptive than I thought you’d be,” Yew said, returning the embrace and stroking down Ethari’s upper back. “I’m happy, of course, but I just… thought I annoyed you.” 

“You do annoy me,” Ethari said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.” 

“Who’s the weirdo now?” Yew said, kissing Ethari’s ear. 

“You like me like this,” Ethari said, laughing for the first time. “You said so.” 

“I did say so,” Yew said. 

Months of therapy and a full season later, Ethari could get around just fine on his own. He still couldn’t run, and there was some doubt that he ever would, but at the very least he could walk unassisted. He offered to do some work around the farm, but despite the start of the planting season coming quite soon, they insisted he wait a while longer before taking on his share. 

Yew spent all of his free time with Ethari, helping him with the physical therapy and just enjoying his company, and Ethari felt himself coming out of his shell under the warmth of Yew’s encouragement and guidance. He went out to meet the other members of the family and introduce himself to them, including young Asahi, about whom Sayo had bragged. He started attending the family meals with them and eventually began engaging in conversations, stilted at first, but becoming more natural over time. He apologized to Birch for causing a ruckus and even greeted shy, non-verbal Hazel, who they’d realized was pregnant shortly after he arrived, although he was in no fit state to care at the time. It’s part of why Birch had been so touchy. Birch, who was in much better spirits now that Hazel was past the worst of her pregnancy sickness, accepted his apology and even offered to share a pint with Ethari sometime.

One day, after Ethari had been deemed mostly healed and with no restrictions on his movement, Yew and Ethari took a walk out hand-in-hand into the woods, out of sight from the farmhouse and barn. It was the farthest he’d been from it since his arrival and that might have made him feel apprehensive, but today felt special for some reason. It felt like he was anticipating something, like something was in the air that he could taste, but he wasn’t sure what it was, a flavor he’d never experienced before.

“Are you going to stay here?” Yew asked him after a while. “I know we never talked about it, but you’ve spent all your time at that ranch, so I figured you might want to go out and see the world. I would understand that.” 

“Do you want me to leave?” Ethari asked him. 

“Well, no,” Yew said. He seemed uncharacteristically downtrodden. “But… I don’t want to keep you here if you want to see more of the world. It would be selfish of me to expect you to stay just because I want you to.” 

Ethari stopped him, making him spin to face him. 

“Sayo told me something a few months ago,” Ethari said. “Back when I was struggling to accept the kindness that was being shown me. She said I needed to trust. She said it didn’t matter who or what it was, but I needed to put my trust in something in order to move forward. And she was right. Once I decided to trust, being here came more easily. It’s still hard for me to adapt to a place where nothing is expected of me, but I wanted to move forward and stop living in my trauma so badly that I was willing to take advice from anyone willing to give it, even a stranger. It just so happened that the advice I got was exactly what I needed.” 

“I wondered what the two of you talked about. What did you decide to put your trust in?” Yew asked, wide-eyed. 

“You, silly,” Ethari said with a laugh. “You make it hard not to trust you. That puppy face of yours is just too innocent not to trust. Once I let myself trust you, things seemed to fall into place, as if I was just waiting for it to do so. I won’t lie, I still find myself doubting now and then, and I still have nightmares. I don’t know if either of those will ever go away, but you make it better. It’s hard to doubt when you’re near me. So… I want you near me all the time. I only feel comfortable when you’re there. So… don’t go far… alright?” 

Yew nodded, and Ethari pulled him in sharply, kissing him hard. They had been careful about being affectionate around the family, since they didn’t want questions they may not have been ready to answer. But Ethari was ready now.

“Do you want me to show you what I want to do?” Ethari said, taking Yew’s face in his hands. “Do you want me to show you how I really feel?”

Yew gulped, but stared Ethari in the eye. “Yes.” 

Ethari kissed him again, perhaps a little roughly, but Yew seemed to respond positively. “Then turn around.” 

Yew was shaking a little as Ethari released him, but he obeyed, bracing his upper body against a tree as Ethari reared up on his back legs and mounted him, his cock slipping out of its sheath and bobbing as it searched out an entrance. 

“Do you want this?” Ethari asked, wrapping his arms around Yew’s shoulders from behind. 

Yew looked up at Ethari and grasped Ethari’s arms. “Oh, gods, yes. Please, Ethari, please.”

Ethari pressed his cock to Yew’s pucker, slowly inching inside him. Yew’s eyes half closed and he moaned. 

“Does it hurt?” Ethari asked. “Sorry, I’m not really sure what I’m doing yet.” 

Yew shook his head. “No, it feels good. You feel so good.”  

Ethari bent so that he could kiss Yew upside down as he thrust inside of him and Yew moaned against his lips. This close, his white lashed fluttered like feathers in the breeze, and Ethari was struck by his beauty. 

“You’re beautiful, Yew,” Ethari whispered, and Yew smiled. 

“How can I be beautiful when you exist, Ethari?” Yew said. “You’re so handsome. I thought so when I first saw you. I’d have flirted with you sooner if I thought you’d be receptive.” 

Ethari grinned. “You’re just buttering me up, aren’t you?” 

Yew smiled around his gasping. “Only always. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.” 

Ethari suddenly thrust harder, and Yew cried out. Ethari covered his mouth with his hand. 

“You have to be quiet, or we’ll get unwanted company,” Ethari whispered into Yew’s ear. “Are you going to be good?” 

Yew’s eyes were glassy in pleasure, and he nodded. Ethari removed his hand and Yew moaned again, only less loudly. 

“I love how this feels,” Yew breathed. “You’re so good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?” 

Ethari bucked again, and Yew struggled to keep his voice down. 

“Maybe I’m just naturally gifted,” Ethari suggested. 

“I believe it,” Yew replied, his eyes closing as Ethari thrust faster. “There’s nothing you can’t do. You’re amazing.” 

“You’re going to make me cum if you keep talking like that,” Ethari said, as he was, indeed, close to bursting. 

“You can,” Yew said, his grip tightening. “I think… I’m almost there, too.” 

“How would you know?” Ethari asked him. “Isn’t this your first time?” 

“Yeah,” Yew said, his face scrunching up. “But I feel… something… happening…” 

Yew groaned loudly, and Ethari heard a thick splashing against the ground at their feet. Thrusting faster, Ethari began to grunt in Yew’s ear. 

“Don’t stop yet, it’s happening again,” Yew begged. Ethari pounded into him, and Yew did cry out, his body stiffening underneath Ethari, and another splashing was heard. 

“My goodness,�� Ethari said, riding the edge of his own pleasure and letting it rise and ebb, delighting in the sounds Yew made when he came. “Aren’t you eager, love?”

“I’ve wanted you so badly, the last few months,” Yew said, sweat collecting on his brow despite the cool spring air. “I’m so happy you want me, too.” 

“I do,” Ethari told him. “I’m not going anywhere, Yew. I’m here forever. If I go anywhere, you’re coming with me. I need you.” 

Yew shuddered against Ethari, and came again. “You’re so good to me. I’m so happy you chose me. Thank you.” 

“No,” Ethari said, his voice soft. “I should be thanking you. You gave me new life.” 

“I just saw you on the road and helped you,” Yew said, his body shivering with the waves of pleasure.

“You did more than that,” Ethari pressed his forehead against the top of Yew’s head. “Oh, gods,” He exhaled. “I’m close.” 

“Please, do it,” Yew said. “You can do it. I want it.” 

Ethari came hard inside of Yew, his seed spilling out and down Yew’s back legs. Ethari nearly fell over in his attempt to disengage from Yew. Yew helped him stand straight, laughing. 

“I think I need a wash,” Yew said. “Do you want to help me clean up at the river?” 

“I can’t get in the water because of the leg,” Ethari said, trying to catch his breath. “But I can pull up a bucket of water and rinse you down. But before that…” Ethari pulled Yew into an embrace. “I meant it, you know. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. I didn’t know I could be so happy. Thank you for saving me. And thank you for letting me put my trust in you. Sayo was right.” 

“About what?” Yew asked, hugging Ethari tight.

“Trusting you made all the difference.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[alfredosauce50]

One more night

[Boxer! Denmark x reader] 12

Word count: 4, 500 Rating: PG The reader is referred to as she/her.

One More Night - 12 Finale Part I

The town’s event center wasn’t so big that it could hold a convention, but every few years, it would host a boxing tournament that called on amateurs and fresh professionals from all over the country.

“What do you think you’re gonna do after you graduate?” Gilbert asked, opening the glass door.

“I’m pretty sure we talked about this before,” Mathias answered, though he wasn’t deterred in the least.

“Oh, yeah, I remember.” The albino pondered before saying this all in one breath. “You’re gonna get a green card, and I’m gonna head back to Germany because I clearly haven’t thought this through.”

“I mean, I still gotta figure out how to do that.” The boxer tried to lighten the blow.

As they walked down the hall, they went past posters of previous champions.

They were all photos of the killer blows that decided the match, moments before, during, and after, or them holding up the belt in a blaze of sweat and glory. They radiated the same magnetic energy as he did, but that was only something the people around him could notice and gravitate towards.

“What’s there to figure out? Just get (F/N) to marry you and you’re basically all set,” Gilbert said casually, getting a weird look from Mathias. “I’m only saying that because I have that much faith in you two.”

“Yeah, well, she’s only twenty-one,” The man frowned, his expression eventually morphing to a thoughtful one. “Even then, I’d want our marriage to be a lot more special than one of convenience.”

“But you’re set on moving to the US, aren’t you?”

“For boxing, yeah.”

“But not for her? Because I know for a fact you’d still come here if you didn’t have boxing going for you.”

“True.”

He made it to the sign-up table just outside the arena he’d be fighting in, which had a pop-up banner next to it. After greeting one of the event organizers, the boxer bent over to squiggle down his name and signature.

“Just talk to her about it. She’s not gonna be on your case for asking about something that important.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Think about it this way. You guys have been talking about living together, but not about your papers?”

“I think I get your point, Gil.”

“Had to be sure, because you don’t have a track record for being the best listener.”

“Okay, fine,” The blonde relented, albeit a little heatedly. He couldn’t deny such a defining trait of his character, but it was still a sore subject nonetheless. “I’m just worried about pushing her again.”

“That’s what talking is for,” Gilbert assured, unable to keep his smirk at bay as he sewed this in almost seamlessly. “Or maybe you’re just that used to getting your way that a conversation is beyond you.”

Mathias rolled his eyes and walked off.

“Yeesh. I was just kidding.”

“It’s fine.” They made it out of the event center in a comfortable silence, and the boxer only broke it when he noticed his friend going in the same direction as him. “Hey, isn’t your apartment that way?”

“Yeah, but Amy wanted me to make some Fanta cake for her.”

“Hm,” Mathias paused. “What’s the occasion?”

When he got back to your apartment, it was completely dark. Maybe that should’ve clued him in on what was going on, but it didn’t occur to him until after he turned on the lights, revealing you, Amy, and Allen.

“Surprise!”

You held up an apple cake, having been hiding in the dining room with them all along. The dessert had two little Danish flags sticking out of the top, and while it clicked, his eyes went wider by the second.

“Wow,” He frowned at first, overcome with emotion. There were even a few balloons with ‘good luck!’ and ‘you got this!’ hovering over the table attached to a baby blue weigh. “You guys did all this for me?”

“You thought we were gonna let all of this blow over without doing anything for you?” You questioned, and judging from the small expectant smile he wore, he must have. “What kind of friends would we be?”

“Thank you.” He hugged you and peppered your face with kisses. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mat.” You kissed him back.

“Just one last hurrah before you’re off to the races.” Amy added, handing him a card. Much like the one she made for her brother, it had cutouts of his face all over the front in a warm mess of glitter and stickers.

“How did you even get all these photos?” He gawked, opening it with sheer awe. “I love it!”

Just when he thought his smile couldn’t get any wider, he started reading all the nice messages inside. A lot of thought had been put into this celebration, and he was still surprised that it was all done for him.

“Hey, I was wondering what you were passing around in class!” He blurted, glancing up at the albino.

“And you didn’t suspect a thing.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“And I said I was coming over to make Fanta cake,” Gilbert whispered to Amy, much to her glee.

Everyone gathered around the table to cut and eat the traditional Danish dessert. While you all dug into your slices, each of you had a chance to talk about Mathias, be it a funny story or a dumb one.

“Well, that night he came over, but he didn’t bring any clothes with him,” You explained, stifling a laughing fit as you stared at Allen’s unsuspecting expression. “So I let him borrow your underwear.”

“You what?” His eyes flew open, aghast.

“I’m sorry, Al. It was a bit of an emergency.”

He shook his head anyway, turning away in a mix of disappointment and betrayal.

“I feel violated.”

After a few hours of endless talking and laughing, it was just Mathias left on the table. While he stared at the leftover apple cake and Danish flags that lay flat on the plate, he could only think of one thing. 

“Can I talk to you about something?” He lifted his gaze to you.

“Sure.” You were in the kitchen washing up plates while everyone else lazed around the living room in a food coma. Without looking at him, you sensed him join your side. “What is it?”

“You know how I’m graduating next year?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you help me with my application for a green card? We can get into the details later.”

“Of course, Mat.” You took his shoulder. The way you smiled at him was so reassuring, it made him feel silly that he even worried in the first place. “I’ll be your sponsor. We’ll get that sorted together.”

“Hey.” He nudged you with his head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was far from a proposal, but coming to the States for good — just as you expected him to — left him jumping on the inside. Gilbert had been right all along, though he should’ve just trusted you from the start.

Meanwhile, said albino was playing with Bob’s toy cars on the ground, and the toddler in question was rummaging through his book bag. The twins, on the other hand, were relaxing on the couch.

“Check out this drawing I did.” Allen held up his sketchbook to Amy, showing off his doodle. It wasn’t any less violent than the one he showed you, but at least his artistic ability didn’t exceed a twelve-year-old’s.

“Maybe you should sell that at Barnes and Unstable.” She murmured.

“Real funny, Ames.”

“I don’t think Facebook Marketplace would do it this time round.” She scampered away while shielding herself from a pillow flung at her. “And I’ve seen some weird shit listed there.”

“Screw you,” He bent down to his nephew on the floor. Scooping him up with both arms, he got him to drop Gilbert’s pencil case in a clatter. “I’m gonna hang out with Bob.”

“Whatever. I was about to feed him, anyway.”

“And you’re coming with me to Copenhagen to meet my parents,” Mathias added with a wink.

“I think it’s high time I did.” You agreed.

“What, you don’t wanna meet them?”

“No, it’s just what if I’m not what they’re expecting?”

Amy walked into the kitchen, pulling out a rack she left Bob’s things to air dry on. Allen bounced him while she made a new bottle for him. Being right behind you, they couldn’t help overhearing you two.

“What do you mean?” Mathias frowned.

“Well, I am just a high school graduate.”

“So are we.” The twins added.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do in the future.”

Allen and Amy exchanged concerned looks. It wasn’t so much the indirect jab that provoked that reaction, but something else entirely. You could put them on a pedestal for doing even less, and yet, here you were.

“So what? You’re only twenty-one!”

“And you’re twenty-two!”

“Listen, you’ve been doing everything you can, and you’re great at it. Moving out is a pretty big deal.”

“I know, Mat. And I’m not trying to argue with you, I just wanna be able to impress them somehow.”

“I guess this is a universal thing after all,” Allen spaced out, eyes going unfocused. He would’ve sworn he was the only one who could ever say these things out loud, but apparently not. “Not feeling good enough.”

“Tell me about it.” Amy poured some hot water into a bottle, then measured out a scoop of formula.

“In that case, I think I’ve got it all figured out.”

“Have you, now?”

“You will! They’re the last people in the world to be uptight about stuff like that,” Mathias assured you. “And besides, I’ve always had help from them, but you guys have been on your own for a while now.”

“I guess you’re right,” You lit up, letting him pull you in for a sideways hug. “Thanks for saying that.”

“Yeah, just meet his parents—you’re a peach! They’ll be all over you,” Amy swayed you encouragingly, getting your smile to widen more than it already had. “And if not, Mathias wasn’t meant for you anyway.”

“Hey!”

“And besides, I think they’ll be a lot more impressed that you can handle him above all else.”

“Has anybody told you that you can be really mean?”

Of all the things she said, that rang the truest. Mathias sometimes did too much for his own good, but old habits died hard. He didn’t owe anybody anything, and yet, he wanted his boxing to set everything straight.

Scared of my own image Scared of my own immaturity Scared of my own ceiling Scared I’ll die of uncertainty

“I have a feeling this is gonna be a regular thing,” Allen watched you trot down the stairs to the apartment’s patio, only ever stopping to look back at him. “If you two ever fight, just know you can always crash here.”

“Of course,” You beamed. “And I’ll take the couch this time.”

“I’m sure I could make some room for you,” He put jokingly. You both stared at each other, eyes creasing in the most tender smiles a person could muster, and in a silence that spoke more than not. “C’mere.”

He beckoned you over with an upward tilt of the head, and sure enough, you went to him.

“We all gotta grow up eventually.” He wrapped his arms around you, pinning your head with his chin. Then, he closed his eyes, letting himself relax into the hug. “But you keep me young, you know that?”

“You’re only twenty-two, Allen.”

“Ain’t that a tragedy?”

You pulled away to peer up at him strangely, and there it was. That toothy grin that could smile through anything. It was a look you loved and hated on him all the same, because it just suited him so damn well.

“You’re an idiot for thinking I won’t miss you, because I will, and more than you know.” You teared up.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He sighed, pulling you into a protective hug. You squeezed him so hard that it was almost uncomfortable, but he never would’ve made a fuss about it. “You’re so emotional, sometimes.”

“You’re one to talk.” You grumbled.

“I know,” He cracked another smile.

As much as it pained him to accept where his life was heading, to a whole lot of nothing, it was for the best. He could start over with a clean slate, and without you always there to hold his head above water.

“But just let me have my moment.”

Fear might be the death of me Fear leads to anxiety Don’t know what’s inside of me

“So what was it that you figured out?” Amy walked out to the patio now that you and Mathias were gone. She wasn’t the type to be sentimental like her brother, who practically lived in the past.

“We can never love ourselves the way other people love us,” He explained in a faint murmur, glancing up at her. “They just see something in us that we don’t. So we’re never really whole without each other.”

“As bright as you are,” She shook her head, taken aback. “You just don’t like to think sometimes.”

“Love you too.”

“But when you do, the world makes a little more sense.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me?” Allen grinned, getting Amy to roll her eyes. But he saw the smile curling at her lips, which goaded him on more than anything. “Alright, alright, bring it in.”

Don’t forget abou-bou-bou-bou-bout me Don’t forget abou-bou-bou-bou-bout me Even when I doubt you I’m no good without you

You and Mathias arrived at the local bus stop and sat on the bench. As nice as that party was, it gave you a lot to think about. And that was what you did, falling uncharacteristically silent in the process.

“Are you okay?” He turned his head to you.

“Yes,” You answered. “It’s just really happening.”

As excited as you were to embrace everything headed your way, leaving your old life would be just as difficult. Not seeing Amy, Allen, and Bob every day would be the hardest change of them all.

“Hey, I get it.” He softened his gaze. “Change is scary.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say that.” You replied.

“Want me to say it again?” He grinned back, much to your amusement. You didn’t say anything more, letting him fill the silence. And he didn’t let you down. “I’m afraid of change, but what I’m afraid of even more is not changing at all.”

For someone who acted so much on emotion, it never ceased to amaze you how eloquent Mathias could be. He braved the truth like no other, fiercely unafraid of the light because he burned even brighter than that.

“Maybe I needed someone to remind me of that,” You leaned into him. “So, thank you.”

“This will be great, I promise,” Mathias made a cute face as he caught you with his arm, so anybody could tell he’d been dying to say this for a while, now. “You’ll get to see me every day.”

“Don’t know if I’ll be prepared for that, actually.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Oh, yeah?”

You two ended up chasing each other back to his apartment. For someone so heavy, he was surprisingly fast. Trying to catch up to him was the hardest workout you’ve ever done.

Not that he even had the patience to wait for you, because he’d run right back to take your hand. 

When he got outside his door, he pinned you up against it and kissed you like he was hungry. He didn’t even bother taking you inside first because putting his mouth on yours was infinitely more important. So for the next ten minutes, he tongued you down in the hallway without a care in the world.

Now that you would always be within arm’s reach, you were right to worry about handling his insatiable appetite. He was deliberate in proving that point, hell, he even got off to it. He would make up for all the time lost, every last minute that escaped him when he could’ve spent it with you.

“Let’s keep this, this, and get rid of that.” Mathias tossed a black T-shirt onto his bed.

After you walked into his bedroom and saw all his things strewn over his desk and chair, he thought cleaning up would be the next best thing. Knowing him, you just went along with it.

“Why? This is nice.” You frowned, picking it up to inspect the back and front.

“It’s a bit tight so I don’t like the way it feels.” He continued to rummage through his closet.

“Hm,” You gave it a quick fold before putting it aside. “Allen might like this.”

Mathias closed a drawer and came up behind you.

“Maybe this’ll get him to stop moping about his underwear.”

“You think so?” He hummed.

“Yeah, but I didn’t come here to clean your room with you,” You told him, getting him to flash a sheepish expression. “This is the part where I give you a pep talk, but I think you have all the pep you need.”

“Yeah?” He lit up.

“But good luck. And whatever happens in the ring, I’m not going anywhere.” You squeezed his hands. It was your way of telling him that he’d already won, now that you would be staying with him indefinitely.

As a result, the winnings weren’t that important in retrospect to what he originally wanted them for.

But now that the opportunity presented itself, taking them still seemed like the only way to do right by you. To do right by all of you. So he didn’t plan on stopping until he floated straight to the top, second to none.

After six months of painstaking preparation came the first day of the tournament. You and Amy took a day off work for it, Gilbert skipped his classes, and Allen brought Bob along in a baby carrier.

Funnily enough, the neighborhood seemed to get the memo because half the stores were closed.

“Boxing is a pretty big deal around here, huh?” The albino mused.

“Ever wonder why Mat chose his university?” You asked, drawing attention to the vibrant atmosphere on the streets. Business may have halted, but that meant more people were out and about during the day, chattering together as they headed to the local event center. “This place is a real boxing town.”

“Mat really does have it all figured out, doesn’t he?” Gilbert murmured, recalling the conversation he had just yesterday. When he first met the Dane, he thought he was a bit all over the place, and he still was, really, but for the things he cared about, he always went that extra mile. “Sounds like Mat.”

“For what he’s interested in, anyway. Everything else, not so much.”

“Hm.”

“Maybe we should try and convert him to baseball,” Amy commented, earning a grin from her brother, who could absolutely get behind that suggestion. “Think he could go pro with that?”

“Yeah, if he even bothers showing up to baseball Fridays.” You mumbled.

“Guess it’s not very popular in Europe.” She added.

“Nope.” Gilbert popped.

After getting some snacks and drinks at the canteen, the four of you made your way to the arena. When you all ambled to your seats, it was already packed. The persistent chatter of the crowd filled your ears in a dull roar, and if that wasn’t already loud enough, it was sure to amplify when the actual fight came around.

“There’s sixteen boxers, and that gets halved every day,” You eyed the tournament brackets, which was mostly empty for now. “Losers get booted, and the winner advances to the next round.”

“Okay, so he just has to win four times in a row,” Gilbert commented after doing the math in his head, which prompted Allen to start counting on his fingers. “Shouldn’t be too hard for Mat, right?”

“Right.” You repeated, not completely bought by the chances. Either way, you were too nervous to keep talking now that Mathias appeared from a side door in his white boxing robe. “Look! Here he comes.”

There was a slow eruption of cheering as the two contestants made their way to the ring. One, a local amateur, and the other, a young student from Denmark well on his way to making ripples in the boxing industry. The four of you straightened up and peered around to get a better view. After shedding that outer layer to reveal his rippling body underneath, you all had the same, collective reaction. Shock and awe, down to a T.

“Damn.” Allen mouthed.

You’ve seen his body go through numerous changes throughout the year, but none quite compared to what he looked like now. After cutting down some fat, his muscles were practically bulging out of his skin. And as he bounced on the spot, so did his pecs. It wasn’t as tasteless as it sounded, noticing the fruits of his labor all these months, though his impressive physique wasn’t what brought you all here today.

“Good luck to whoever’s fighting him,” Amy remarked.

It was what he could do with it.

The starting bell rang three times, indicating the start of the match. The two boxers came together in the center of the ring and began circling each other. Then, they threw a couple of practice swings at each other.

It was like watching a pair of wild dogs, raising their hackles in a warning growl before landing a bite. Because in the next few seconds, one of them would. But they were more like a wolf than anything.

Mathias was the first to snap, jabbing at their face for two loud ‘bams’ before bringing his arm around for a mean left hook. His opponent dropped to their feet and evaded that last attack, then sprung up again.

Just like that, their stalemate ended in a brutal tussle. 

They swung at Mathias, decking him across the jaw. Spit flew from his mouth, and in his brief lapse of attention, they punched his face three times. Blood came out of his nose, making for a grotesque sight.

And the crowd ate it up in an excited roar.

“Come on, Mat!” You shouted.

While his opponent kept whaling on him, the Dane packed his fists in front of his face. He hid behind them until they burnt out, and when he removed them, he gave a bloody grin as if to go, you don’t have me yet.

Drawing his arm back, he smashed his glove right between his opponent’s eyes. The punch happened so fast, it couldn’t be evaded, and it was packed with so much power, it flung their head back like a speed bag.

He didn’t stop there, pounding them in solid jabs like a jackhammer. When they tried to get back at him in a clumsy swing, he bobbed down to the side to dodge. Then, he got up to do it all over again.

Mathias was a speed demon, and combined with his impeccable anticipation, he predicted many of the punches thrown at him. It was in his eyes, sharp and fixed on his opponent like he’d entered a trance.

And nothing could break him out of it. His hyperfocus was like a spell, letting him do all that most people couldn’t. There were only two things that could activate it: you and boxing. But together?

He was an unstoppable force.

And with his ox-like stamina, he wasn’t giving up anytime soon. Not even while he kept up his lightning-fast speed, nor his explosive punches that could rattle the brain in the skull that came in the way of his fists.

When he was done, he’d pull them back to his face and go back to bouncing on his feet. It was the nastiest of surprises, his style at its prime. The peek-a-boo style, and he would mow down other contestants with it.

After the match, everyone gathered at the local diner to celebrate. Your group sat at a round booth, but even that couldn’t deter Mathias’s friends from flocking around him to congratulate him on the landslide win.

They were like his disciples, but then again, he’d always had that effect on people.

“Give it up for the boxing Jesus.” Amy held up her milkshake.

“Yeah!” Gilbert seconded with a milkstache.

“Thanks, guys.” Mathias laughed, peering around the table and at all the faces beaming at him.

Nothing could beat a feeling like this, being seen by all his loved ones. It was the closest he could get to being invincible because when everyone believed in him, he had the drive to do anything. 

“But this is only the first round. It’ll only get tougher from here on out.”

“Like that has ever stopped you,” You said, charmed by his humility. His cheeks went red, and even more so with what you said next. “But we really missed seeing you in the ring, Mat. And you killed it out there.”

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint,” He grinned, eyes twinkling. “So thanks for watching me.”

“I’ll always watch you whether you win or not.”

Now that it came to this, it wasn’t just your attention he always craved.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how many times he failed, you would still be there for him. Some untouchable version of him existed in your mind, and if he ever doubted himself, you wouldn’t.

That was something Allen understood all too well, but he had to let you go.

Don’t forget abou-bou-bou-bou-bout me Don’t forget abou-bou-bou-bou-bout me Even when I doubt you

I’m no good without you

“Hey,” Allen said, stopping the Dane out on the street.

Even if he had to force these words out and say it when there was no one around to hear it, he fought himself to, because he wouldn’t be able to live it down if he held out on him. So he waited for everyone to leave the diner — you included — before he let it slip.

“You’re the best of all of us.”

Mathias was caught off guard at first, but the more he listened, the clearer everything became.

“And I just wanted to remind you that we’re all counting on you.”

They were the last two people to end up as friends, but life dealt them an unexpected hand. Even if it took so much as hell freezing over Allen to realize this, there were infinitely bigger things than personal grudges.

“So take her to the moon for me.” Allen grinned.

You, Amy, and Bob were the infinitely bigger things. His world and everything that could ever matter to him. Even if he couldn’t do what you all needed him to do now, he would come back one day.

But at least for the next few days, it was up to Mathias.

Next chapter: Coming soon

Tag-list: @sunnysssol @chaeesposts @archive-of-bones @chickenpecks @my2phetaliaheadcanons @sport-lova14 @narratatornyanko

[asttyx]

It was Mahogany Wood and Fresh Apples (Oneshot)

"If the two of you were the last ones to live, would you dance the waltz with him?"

It was funny, you've never even considered it.

It was the last summer before your classes would start, you would be going back to your parent's house for a nice chat and dinner, possibly getting them something in exchange for the times you were absent. They missed you, you missed them more.

You look at Hermione with her bushy hair framing her face. You always thought that she looked like a bear, all fuzzy and soft. To you, at least.

"Who's him?" You laughed jokingly. She rolled her eyes as if your question was snarky.

"Oh please, be real for a minute. It's just a lovely quote to repeat." She sighs, leaning on the tree trunk that has seen you both grow. "I suggest you stop reading that book, it's doing things to your mind." You pointed at her and she laughed like you were the crazier one.

You rolled over, looking at her, for a minute you felt dizzy but maybe it was just the mahogany wood surrounding you. You don't like the particularly strong smell.

"Who was it again? I forgot?" You looked over her, hair spiked in all directions, she couldn't help but reach over to you as she fixed it.

"Who was what?" She raised an eyebrow cheekily. You were about to wipe that smirk off her face.

"Was it Von Parsley? Oh no, I'm pretty sure it starts with an R. Ron Parsley, then? Oh wait, I think I got it. Ron Weasel?" She turned bright red at the name as she hid her face.

"How do you know him?" She hid her embarrassment with a book. It was an okay attempt but little did she know you could see the redness of her ears.

"You talk about him, like a lot." It was like chanting the bible, Harry Pottery and Ron Weasel were the names that would casually roll over her tongue. "I do not!" She claimed, but with a little smile on her face. "And it's Weasley, not Weasel, thank you very much."

You puffed at what she said but just shrugged. You slightly sat beside her, leaning over the trunk as you put your head on her shoulder, leaning slightly. "What are you reading, anyway?"

Eyebrows furrowed when she automatically closed the book to which you shot an offended look. "Nothing, just a really cool book."

You sighed, sitting slightly straighter than before. It was no use getting things out of her, she's always been persistent. It had been like that the moment she came back from her private boarding school.

"You can always come back here, Mione. The teachers miss you like crazy that they've been pumping things out of me." You sighed.

No response.

She looked away from your comment, it was clear that she wasn't happy about your suggestion.

"Or not." You added jokingly to ease what she was feeling. "You could just chase after Ron Weasel over there." This time surely, she faced you to hit you in your arm. A big smile plastered over her face.

"That prat is totally not my type! I do not have a crush on him!"

"Whoa there, Mione. You should just relax." You raised both hands and nodded, looking straight at her like her words and invalid. "Say that to his face when you get to his house, now will you?"

The girl made sure to stab you directly in the chest with a knife using only her eyes, you threw both hands up in the air. It was honestly fun messing with her. "Your words, not mine."

She rolled her eyes, opening the book once more. You leaned over as you saw the contents, none of it registered to you. Unfamiliar pages loitered with elegant black cursive that hurt your eyes, it barely made sense.

Then again, you were best friends with the weird kid. Maybe all these things are those you find endearing as you grew up with her. You put your head on her shoulder once again. The wind was growing stronger with every passing minute and it was almost perfect for you to just fall asleep.

"I just realized none of the teachers liked me." You started, she just kept quiet. A sign she was listening, and never made any comments when it came to you talking.

"I wasn't smart like you, I am also definitely not popular. I'm not appealing, my family isn't rich, I don't have many friends, I don't get invited to many events." You sighed. "Maybe because they like you, Mione, they learned to talk to me." You sighed, she took your hands and massaged your outer palm. "Don't be hard on yourself. It wasn't because of me, maybe, they generally don't like people like us."

She laughed when she saw you cling to her even further, "Maybe you would've liked it when you were in my school." She said.

"But I like it here." The neighborhood you grew up in, was chilly for a summer. Yet, the lemonade stand didn't fail to always set up across their lawn.

"Yes, that's why." She reasoned.

__________

"Why do you keep a perfectly carved stick in your closet?" You ask, taking out the stick you saw as you helped her pack for the next school year.

Panic flashed in her eyes like she bolted up in her bed shouting, "Give me that!" and the next thing you know is that she was stuffing the stick in her pocket.

Her odd behavior matched the randomness of all the things you've been dealing with for the past four years. "You don't have to be so rough about it, it's just a stick." You sighed. But maybe it wasn't. You know, the thing about Hermione is that she holds a lot of sentimental value on random things that you might consider her hoarding most of those things in her closet, even her bathroom cabinet is not safe from those.

Of course, she didn't reply. Nothing to be mad about, never mad at you. Although, you kind of wished she was. You never know the things that would piss her off, that was because she never took her anger out of you.

"I used to have a rose I received from Sam. But it wilted." You said, like then again, she didn't say anything back. You could see her folding the clothes she would need for the next school year, it's as if she lives there.

"I used to like Sam, remember?" You smiled, lightening up and she nodded. "Yeah. I remember." Just like that, she was back to her usual self again.

"I don't want to be bothered, Mione." You looked down at the frames hanging up on Hermione's bedroom wall, a few with her parents but most of them made up of you and her growing up. How could you not? You remember the day she knocked out your teeth in the playground, that was the first time you both met. "But I'm not magic."

She stopped to look at you, her hands frozen solid and she had no intentions of stopping to fold her clothes back again. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know what's going on in your mind. I'm not a mind reader, Mione. I know that you don't want me to be but I just hate it when you disregard things that I have said. Why don't you get mad at me?"

She relaxed and looked at you. Maybe it was because of the way you said it or maybe you did not push it any further but she was relieved and you didn't have to know. You wouldn't understand why she was internally freaking out over your choice of words.

"Tell me something I didn't know." And she knew, maybe, just maybe this is the last time she'd ever get to spend a nice summer with you. It wasn't about you being ready, she never planned to tell you anything. It was her.

"Promise not to tell anyone?"

"What?"

"Swear on it." She looked at you so seriously, never before did you see her shaken and confused.

"I swear." You nodded, this time, you know you are supposed to go sit in her bed. So you did.

The girl was maybe hyperventilating, you almost regret pushing her to speak up with her emotions. Almost. It was a treat, but you know you don't have to push her like that, but there was this urge telling you that maybe this might be the only chance.

She stood up to kneel in front of you, she shouldn't have, but she did anyway. She took both your hands in hers and breathed, seeking comfort and you tried to match her rhythm.

"I'm a witch." She breathed, closing both her eyes to look at your reaction. No words, you just looked at her. No questions, you believe her, and it was all there to say.

"How?" You shake your head. "Magic." Like the fairytales that were read to you ever so often that you normalize it as a bedtime story? It is much more darker and you looked at her without asking anymore. "I believe you, Mione."

__________

You were never a fan of thrill, you didn't expect you'd go through a wall. On your second attempt at that, Hermoine had you on a pep talk about believing and all, that's what you did, and got your head badly collided on the wall. You had to bid her goodbye and her parents came as well.

There weren't that many people in the area, and Hermione was one of the few to go early. She said that it was something about Von Weasel and the Quidditch World Cup. Not that you know what that is considering you have little to no idea what was happening.

As soon as a Jacobite steam train appeared, Hermione had to bid you all goodbye. She told you it wasn't her usual route to the Weasels and had to take an alternative but she wanted you to bid her goodbye as she boarded the Hogwarts Express. She told you that it was special, you didn't want to take her moment with her parents away though. She would miss them like crazy, but she would always insist that she had a feeling this time, it was really special. You took her word for it.

You bid her goodbye and blew kisses as she waved her hands out the window. The train was almost leaving, it didn't fill up like you thought it would. Maybe Hermione was just early. It wasn't busy like you thought, but there were multiple 11-12-year-olds running around, like the first time your best friend told you that she got admitted to her 'private boarding school'. You thought it was funny how she managed to make up excuses all the time.

Now you're not too sure how you'd get by a day without thinking of all these, sadly, you aren't the few gifted ones who are born to do things like Hermione would. Surely, your parents have high hopes for you and you'll eventually need to seriously move back to your private boarding school in less than a week. With the stupidly strict uniform and teachers who only talk to you when needed.

You had to go, the train left. You looked back at Hermione's parents as they made their way back to the wall, they expected you to follow. That you would, but stopped in your tracks once a figure stopped you midway. Far across you, a boy with platinum blonde hair was wearing black formal clothes. You didn't know why but you thought he looked fine. Handsome even, it was outrageous, you never go googly-eyes for a stranger. Hermione would've laughed if she saw you.

He was alluring, you thought that maybe he was a wizard, perhaps the same age as you are? Does he know Hermione? You thought of a million reasons why you are unable to move and follow back Hermione's parents.

The guy was alone, he had a cart though. You wondered why he didn't get on the train that Hermione took, it was strange, maybe he'd take the other? How badly it is that you want to strike up a conversation, you know you weren't like this. Not with Sam at least.

And you saw him sigh, go by a distant chair, and sit. He started tapping his foot, like waiting for someone and it was like he was always annoyed. It was perplexing to see, and you knew you had to take one step closer.

He noticed you, with a frown on his face. He was about to make a snarky comment but debated whether to actually say it, instead, scooted over for you to sit down on the other side. You wanted to say something, really. But didn't dare to actually come up with words. You knew you were shy and awkward, you just hoped it wasn't for this moment that could ruin you for next years to come.

He was your type, of course he is. Formal dressed, well-kept hair, and you turn to look at him, startled to see he is looking back at you.

Silence.

The way your heart jumped with dopamine.

He didn't say anything back, but the snarl in his face disappeared. He observed you, without malice no, not with judgment. He wasn't criticizing you at all and all you wanted to be in that moment was something he was looking at like a treat in his eyes.

Let that come true.

He has the clearest grey eyes you have seen. Draws you like a whirlpool but all you have to do is make a move, perhaps a simple 'Hi' would suffice. You shifted uncomfortably but you managed to throw him a small smile.

So much like Hermione, he didn't return the favor. But you saw the way his tensed shoulders dropped and eyes softened. He was about to say something when-

"It's time to go," A deep slurred voice distracts you as you look up to see someone with long platinum blond hair standing, eyeing the boy who immediately stood up. "Yes, father."

You heard him say, his voice never clearer on your ears like water, you were bewitched. At that moment, you thought of how badly you wanted to waltz with him. But he stood up and looked at you quickly before the expression of annoyance crept back to his face before walking away.

You saw the guy beside him throw you a sharp glare muttering something along the lines of 'muggles' like it was something disgusting. You sat there completely unaware of how everything in your head did not play the way you wanted.

You didn't get to ask for his name, he was about to say something too. But you remember so clearly the distinct smell of Mahogany Wood and Fresh apples. You liked it.

You jolted as you heard your name being called from the distance, you almost forgot about it. You hurriedly stood up with a smile on your face, following the voice as you said you were sorry that you got sidetracked along the way.

Maybe next year you'll see him and get to ask for his name. Maybe he thought the same. You were ecstatic. Maybe he did.

You weren't able to come. Hermione didn't invite you to send her off.

IThat next year, he waited in the same spot but you never came.

[ananxiousgenz]

SONG FOR A CAGED LOVEBIRD: PART 10

wahoo!!! yippie!!!! part 10 and over 10k written!! let's go!!!!

this part is like. lowkey weird to me. and i don't know why. lmk if any choices i made here were a bad/weird idea bc i feel like some of them might have been lmao

MY PERSONAL CARTE BLANCHE CREW: @smidgen-of-hotboy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde @demonic-panini @the-private-eye

Nureyev struggled to get his jaw working as he stared at the man across the room. 

It was Slip.

Slip Jackson.

How was he…. How was he here?

He knew he had known this man when they were kids. They had been close, Nureyev supposed, from the fragments of memories he had of him.

Until the winter got a hold of Slip, and he disappeared into the night.

Nureyev never saw him again.

Slip had changed. He was taller, of course, and not nearly as skinny, his hair shot through with white and grey, perfectly complimenting the neat black suit he wore. His eyes looked harder. Not so much careworn as workworn, sharp and clever. His mouth was set into a stunning grin. In the buttonhole of a suit jacket was a perfect, red dahlia.

Nureyev had to look away at that point. He couldn’t look at that dahlia without thinking of his dahlia, left behind on the surface, probably was wondering where he was by now. Probably out in the snow looking for him. Probably confused and scared and- why are you like this, why do you make these choices that hurt other people and only benefit you, what’s the matter with you-

“What’s the matter, Petya? Don’t you remember me?”

He shook off the guilt and tried to think. He couldn’t remember a lot of their time together. He remembered laughing, an echo of a feeling warmer than the glow of the sun, braiding flowers into long, auburn hair, and splitting an apple, fresh off the tree, with a small, bone-handled knife, the same one he carried now in his left pocket. Nothing concrete. Nothing to explain why he now stood in front of this man, who was now the king of the Underworld.

He shook his head slowly.

Slip’s grin slid slowly off his face. His voice was far deeper than Peter could ever remember having heard before. “What do you mean? I thought you’d be happy to see me again.”

There was a faint sense of panic bubbling up in him now. He began to get the strange sense that admitting his lack of memory was a bad idea, but he just kept shaking his head.

“Well, then. Allow me to jog your memory. My name is Slip. Slip Jackson. We knew each other as teenagers. We were practically inseparable. Spent every day together. We were in love. We were going to run away together until I caught pneumonia one night and passed away. That would be as much of the story as you know, I think.”

Nureyev liked to think he remembered most of the big pieces of his time with Slip, but the two of them being ‘in love’ was new. He examined his memories a bit more closely. He did seem to recall a few shy kisses, huddled in the alleyway behind a bar, and maybe a few cuddles. Nothing concrete. Nothing to suggest they were ever in love.

“What I would like to know from you, Petya, is why you didn’t come for me when I called.”

The confusion must have been obvious on his face, because Slip sighed deeply before continuing.

“Oh come on, I know it’s been a long time, Petya, but I didn’t realize you would have forgotten so much about us! Surely you remember our little games and the fairy tales we liked to tell each other.”

Nureyev opened his mouth to speak.

And then the vague fear cemented itself into solid, steel panic.

He couldn’t speak.

He couldn’t speak.

His throat and lungs had already felt strange, empty and airy and wet and sticky all at the same time, like the air in them wasn’t escaping through his nose but his throat instead. He initially thought it was just a side effect of being- dead? Was he actually dead? It didn’t matter. Whether or not he was dead, there was nothing coming out of his mouth.

He tried again in case it was a fluke, but with the same results. Nothing.

His voice was just. 

Gone.

“Ah, I suppose I should have mentioned that to you sooner, Petya,” Slip said gently, ushering a barely conscious and panicking Peter over to a chair in front of the large mahogany desk at the center of the room. “Sometimes, the ways people die on the surface have…. side effects in the afterlife. I’m afraid your death is such a case.” 

He settled into his chair behind the desk and began shuffling some papers around. “I am looking into a way to get your voice back but chances of a good outcome are low, I’m afraid. Past experiments haven’t exactly been promising. But in the meantime, you are more than welcome to work for me! You wouldn’t be paid, but it would be something to do to pass the time.”

Peter was staring, mouth slightly open. He was pissed now, anger rising in his heart like a hurricane flood. What kind of bullshit was this? He got murdered by the henchmen of a childhood friend/lover who he barely remembered, dragged down to the Underworld, only to be told his voice is now gone, perhaps forever. All he wanted was a job. All he wanted was to get away from poverty and trouble.

And now he was right back in it.

Slip got up from his seat behind the desk and tried to block Nureyev’s path to the door, babbling something about giving them more time to find a solution and how all he wanted was for Petya to stay a while longer.

Nureyev punched him straight in the jaw. He didn’t give a shit anymore.

Slip stumbled backward onto the floor and Nureyev glided over him in two long, neat strides. He was out of the door and down the hallway in two more. By the time he had reached the front door, several of the henchmen who had brought him here earlier were barreling down the hallway after him.

But the funny thing about being dead is that you lose a lot of what makes you human. Heartbeat. Breathing. Pain. And without those, it becomes a whole lot easier to disappear.

And Nureyev had already been a master of disappearances while living.

He was already safely tucked away in a nearby alley by the time the executives charged out into the street in search of him. More of a ghost than any of the souls here could ever hope to be. He watched as they walked straight past him, never knowing that he was only a few feet away from them. He could reach out and brush the dust off of one of their lapels, but he stayed as still and silent as a stone statute. As soon as they were gone, he huffed out a quiet sigh of relief before the anger began to fade away and the reality of his situation hit him.

He was alone, penniless, and voiceless in a strange city a thousand miles from home.

He had nothing to his name except, well, his name.

He was helpless, a child who walked into the deep end of a pool too soon and was now floundering.

In spite of his best efforts, Peter Nureyev began to cry again.

What was that saying that Buddy was always so fond of repeating? Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. He supposed, in some sick and twisted way, that he deserved this. He had made this situation, and now he had to live with it. Gods, he hated that he was like this.

Pull yourself together, Nureyev. You’ve gotten out of tougher deals than this.

He took a minute to breathe and pull himself together. He had no plan, but was almost prepared to go before he noticed the figure standing off to his left, watching him. Instinctively, he leaped up and grabbed the knife from his pocket, holding it out in their direction. The figure raised their arms in surrender.

“Whoa, I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m sorry! I just- you were sitting here all by yourself, and well, I thought you looked a little lonely. Do you need any help?”

Nureyev opened his mouth to make a snarky comment in return, but no sound came out. He silently cursed his rotten luck.

“Ohhh, did you lose your voice?” The figure took a few steps closer into the light.

The knife nearly dropped from Nureyev’s hand once he saw the man’s face. This person was…. 

That was Benzaiten Steel. Peter would have bet his life on it.

He was nearly an exact replica of Juno if life hadn’t been quite so tough on him. Same wide and curious eyes, same nose, same jaw, same glimmer of mischief and compassion lurking at the edges of his expression, dressed in denim overalls, heavy work boots, and grease-stained shirt. Juno didn’t talk about his brother often, but when he did, it was always with no small amount of pain and grief. He had always wondered what had happened between the two of them that had caused Juno so much hurt. Now, perhaps he could find out.

Nureyev hesitated, considering his options, then nodded, and dropped the knife back down to his side.

“Shit,” Ben said, real concern lacing his voice as he dropped his hands. “And you’re new here too, aren’t you? I can’t say I’ve seen you before.”

Nureyev nodded again.

Ben blew out a long breath, clearly thinking. His brow furrowed in the same way Juno’s did when he was trying to work out a particularly tricky problem. Gods, he missed him.

“Okay then, you’re gonna stick with me from here on out, okay? Heyyyy, don’t give me that look. Everyone who comes down here thinks they can take care of themselves, but they can’t. They always need help. And I’m gonna be your helper! Oh, and where are my manners! My name is Benzaiten, but you can call me Ben. And because you definitely can’t tell me your name, I’m going to call you… Glass. Because your glasses are broken. Is that okay with you? I thought it would be. I am pretty good at naming things, if I do say so myself. I can fix your glasses when we get back to the party.”

A party? Down here? Nureyev narrowed his eyes. That seemed… suspicious.

“Ah. That’s right. Well, you didn’t hear this from me,” Ben said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “but when the bosses aren’t looking, some of us like to have a little fun. A little wine, a little dancing, a few flowers here and there… it does wonders for the soul, I’ll tell ya. I’ll introduce you to the whole gang, Glass!”

The faintest of smiles crept across Nureyev’s face. Perhaps something worthwhile might come out of this disaster after all.