#every thing- trying so hard to balance back to zero

[xenteaart]

the hard way

pairing: vampire!chris x to be vampire!reader genre/warnings: dark romance, mean chris, angst? kinda dead dove, mentions of death, blood and a lil gore (not too graphic tho imo), it's okay in the end??? and they're in love plot: reader is getting turned into a vampire and it's not as cool as she imagined author’s note: obvsly heavily inspired by railway and that SPITTING SCENE. idk it's prolly gonna flop but i wanted to picture that process and a not so hot side of it

“no.” “why not?!” “because i told you so a million times already. we’re not discussing this.” chris spits out and furrows, growing more agitated with each passing second.

“what, you don’t want me to be equal to you?” you ponder desperately while your mind searches for any, any reason at all as to why chris won’t turn you. it’s been getting to you for the last couple of months, and you’re sure you’ve gone through every possible explanation your troubled brain could come up with: he doesn’t love you. he doesn’t wanna spend eternity with you. or maybe it’s a power thing. or, or, or...? this endless cycle of worry and uncertainty has been keeping you on edge for way too long to think clearly now. “gosh, it has nothing to do with equality,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “what is it then?” “drop it.” you snap. “we’ll have to find out the hard way, then.”

you grab the nearest kitchen knife, and it turns out to be the one you use for cutting meat, a chef’s knife as they call it. how fitting. chris barely has enough time to catch up with your madness infused impulse, and when he turns his gaze back to you, the knife is already deep in your guts.

you thought it was gonna be romantic or somewhat dramatic at least. something from the movies where he sinks his vampire teeth into your neck, and just like magic — your eyes flash bright red, announcing the beginning of a new life.

“you dumb bitch,” he exhales shakily and somehow manages to catch you in time because the sharp pain in your stomach makes you lose your balance instantly. you’re still bitter and angry in the heat of the argument and you expect him to be the same way, but when you glance up, chris looks nothing but panicked. “that’s a new look on him,” you think, and it confuses you.

chris growls and sinks to his knees, carefully holding you and trying to move as fast as possible. what you don’t know is that turning can only be done in around thirty seconds since fatal injury. that might explain the rushing and chris’s pure bambi eyes panic but your consciousness is already starting to drift away to hold onto that train of thought.

chris bites into his wrist with unmasked fury, tearing and ripping his own veins even though using a knife would have been much cleaner. probably less painful, too. “swallow. now! come on, don’t you fall asleep on me now, focus!” he grabs your face and presses hard on the jaw joints, making you open your mouth like a puppet doll.

the sickly metallic taste of your own blood at the back of your throat from the internal bleeding mixes up with chris’s thick blood that he generously spits into your mouth, and you want to throw up. your head feels dizzy as your eyelids are getting heavier, your hearing suddenly fails completely as if someone turned the volume down from ten to zero. limbs are falling weak, and the pins and needles in them are so, so far from pleasant.

the thing about turning is... you actually have to die first. be fully, completely gone to be able to come back changed and corrupted, turned to the extent of your DNA having been violently rewritten. that you did not think through enough. the muscles in your throat contract almost on reflex, swallowing and gagging on the gooey salty substance, making your chest heave while coughing strangles you further. the tingles and nausea are so overwhelming and all consuming you actually catch yourself thinking dying would be a relief now. and then it follows as you wished.

you doze off for god knows how long but, by the looks of it, it can’t have been more than a few minutes because as you regain consciousness, chris is still looming over you, his own blood fresh on his lips. he’s blurry, though, everything is.

“come on, suck on me. c’mon, baby, there we go,” he coos as he brings his wrist to your lips, forcefully pressing it into your mouth and leaving you with little to no choice. the phrasing, unlike usual, doesn’t sound dirty or hot now, more like a life-saving command while you’re still so out it. it feels good, though, chris’s blood.

it doesn’t taste so metallic and gross anymore, and the texture feels almost soothing on your dry throat, like hot honey milk on a friday evening. suck, gulp, suck, gulp, suck, it almost lulls you back into serenity, some primal instinct of being attached to your only life line, finding comfort in someone’s warmth and touch and taste.

you wonder how much you’ve drunk already and whether chris will have anything left but you’re so, so thirsty you can’t even bring yourself to care.

what finally makes you stop is the sudden sharp ache in your gums. it feels so piercing the aftershocks are almost reaching your brain and eye sockets, and as you feel your old teeth fall out, a pair of longer fangs cuts through and settles into the upper teeth row. hot tears are stinging your eyes and you whine like a wounded deer, still unable to speak properly. it’s all too much, and you start to regret what you’ve done, and maybe, just maybe that’s why chris so passionately refused to put you through it. this kind of hunger and the animalistic, blood thirst driven rage were never something he wanted to inflict upon you.

your entire body is shaking but it’s not really a fearful tremor, more like restlessness, a new sort of “itch” somewhere deep, deep inside that you’ve never experienced before, the feeling so intense and soul wrenching you simply can’t disobey it. it makes you want to jump up and run.

“don’t worry, i’ll teach you how to handle it.” chris cups your face after taking off his leather gloves so you can feel the comfort of his actual skin. the touch is calming, but barely enough compared to that growing desire and need to satisfy the itch. “you stupid crazy cunt, why do you never listen,” he whispers into your forehead, his lips lightly brushing over your cold sweat covered skin, as he holds you closer, squeezing you against his chest in a protective manner, though the real danger to yourself is now planted within you.

[matsunoluvr]

I thought I saw you were looking for writing ideas. Can we get the LaD men reactions when their s/o touches their butt by accident? (Bonus points if she shyly offers to let them touch hers to make up for it)

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ accidentally touching the love and deepspace butts…?

warnings: suggestive content, swearing

author’s note: HELLO i’m so sorry this took literal months… classes beat me HARD. also… so very sorry for the zayne girlies, i had zero idea what to write. i feel as though i have disrespected him.

characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne, sylus

link to master list here!

more under the cut :3

when rafayel paints on small, detailed canvases he’s always edged up close to the canvas - basically eating the paints

it’s the reason why he literally gets his materials all over him, but that’s not what annoys you.

his back is quite broad, and it makes it almost impossible to see the canvas properly as he paints.

one day, out of curiosity, you try to lean in and get a glimpse of how he’s painting - getting on your tip toes to see over his shoulder

then you lean a little too close - but as you bring your hand up to balance yourself, you feel something brush against the back of your hand

and hear a very, flustered yelp.

“Ah! What the fu-”

immediately rafayel’s head whips around, his body tensing as he felt the gentle graze of your hand.

his eyes are wide and his ears and cheeks are already turning red with embarrassment - whether it’s because of your touch or his reaction is hard to discern.

he’s sputtering and stuttering over his words, unable to speak properly

like a fish out of water just flailing around, hands doing this and that whilst he’s just like “Uh, uhhh?? Huh? HUH?? WHY?” and you’re like “NO IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I SWEAR IT-“

definitely doesn’t want to admit that it felt ticklish, poor fishie had a sensitive butt :3

pouty and very upset with you, he was flustered beyond belief!! how could you be so… so prude!!!!!

definitely rubs his butt after to try and get rid of the tingling sensation it left

i feel like rafayel (if not in the ‘mood’) gets really easily embarrassed if you touch his erogenous zones - like his collar bones, ears, neck, abdomen and… butt

am i overplaying my ‘virgin-pure’ rafayel headcannons right now probably

maybe it’s in lemurian customs that touching in general is an act reserved for the one you love most/bonded to

and when you touch rafayel he still is flustered by it, regardless of the fact that he’s lived as a human for a long time (especially when you touch his butt I’M SORRY I CAN’T GET OVER SENSITIVE RAFAYEL)

so when you then suggest so innocently, so purely and so so softly if he wanted to - quote unquote - ‘touch your butt to make it equal.’ he almost burst on the spot

like literally you could here the little pwoof of hot air that came off of him

“You want me to- to do what?”

he gets even more embarrassed, i would say he gets red but he’s already so flustered he’d burst a blood vessel if he did.

is he against the idea of touching your butt? absolutely NOT rafayel loves every part of you, including your ass - but the idea of touching it just makes him a mess

and when you offer so sheepishly… how is he even supposed to touch your butt?

does he go in for a little brush? a handful? how long? finger tips or whole palm? upper butt or lower… does he go for one cheek? which cheek???

literally just malfunctioning on the spot, paintbrush dropped.

his hands are clenching and unclenching as he swallows dryly, composing himself as he takes a deep breath and reaches out - eyebrows furrowed as if he was concentrating really hard

slowly, he just - rests his finger tips against your butt.

he was so shy, as if he’d never touched your butt before - although to be fair he was much less off guard and more… in the mood.

you could almost laugh at how sheepish he seemed, not even making eye contact with you

“Hmph, this doesn’t make things even cutie.”

you and xavier were taking a nap together, well more like cuddling as you had both long waken up.

he was nuzzling into you, face rested in a gentle smile of content as his nose prods gently into your neck, arms lazily wrapped around your waist

your arms were trapped in his grasp until you wiggled a little - much to his dismay, and freed them

“Don’t wanna cuddle with me?”

faux offence masks his face as he pouts up at you, eyebrows furrowed as he gives your neck a loving little kiss

rolling your eyes, you shift in his grasp to allow yourself to cross your arms over his back

but as you reached around to hug him… instead of grabbing his lower back you aimed a little too low

boom.

hand full of ass.

xavier is definitely surprised, you can tell by the way he doesn’t say anything and instead he widens his eyes a little, lips parting slightly

his butt is nice and soft, and to be honest if you weren’t so embarrassed by the wholesome situation turning very PG18 in a matter of seconds you’d probably appreciate it a little more

but you have no time to revel in the stress-ball, mochi-esque butt before you shrivel up in mortification

i feel like xavier gets over it quite quickly, just blinking a bit before giving you a cheeky smile

“I didn’t know you wanted to do that to me.”

no matter what flustered excuses you give, he’ll innocently tease you further about the little situation

he’d say things like ‘would you rate your experience?’ and ‘is this an exclusive perk only you get?”

to be honest, you couldn’t tell if he was trying to ease the tension or if he genuinely just didn’t care that you literally squeezed his butt like it was a toy

shifting around in his arms, you try to face away but he just airily chuckles - grasp firm enough to make it difficult to turn but not impossible

he knows you didn’t really wanna turn away

until you do turn around

immediate switch in demeanour, going from teasing and playful to more concerned and serious

thinks he upset you by teasing you or that you got too embarrassed around him - both terrible outcomes in his eyes

but just as he’s about to ask what was wrong, you mumble out some words

xavier asks you to repeat yourself even though he’s heard the first time

he thought he heard wrong

but when you repeat yourself, a little ‘you can do it back…’ he’s holding back a jaw drop

however, after not too long you feel a large, firm hand snake its way from your waist, to your hips, then finally settling cozy on your butt - and you could feel his smirk against your skin.

definitely gives it a little squish, not a squeeze, just a squish

don’t be fooled by his faux calm demeanour, he’s actually using every ounce of his self control not to take you on the spot as he watches your reaction

“I’m not quite satisfied yet… is there anything more for you to offer me?”

playing doctors with dr zayne…

him checking out your blood components, heart beat etc, just a routinely check-up to ensure your protocore syndrome isn’t acting up

his hands soothing over your upper arm as he takes your blood pressure, calloused fingers rubbing (whether intentionally or not) against you whilst adjusting the device

he’s fully in business-no-nonsense mode, you could tell by the crease in his eyebrows

you can’t help but become amused at his professionalism, i mean, after all, he was your boyfriend - what’s with the coldness?

giving his cheek (face… not ass) a small pinch, you try to egg a smile out of him - only for him to frown and move your hand away gently - but firmly - a clear message of ‘not until the procedure is done’

fine… doctors orders i guess

after everything’s done zayne’s face relaxes a little, and you know he’s out of professionalism mode

to celebrate another check up of not dying and not being in imminent danger of your protocore syndrome wiping out your existence, you jump up from the table and go to pat his back…

pat his back… oh how pure and innocent your intentions were

unfortunately for you, the results were far less PG when you watch zayne stiffen up, eyes ever so slightly widening as he feels your palm flatten against his rear

a small “Hmph?” for a reaction

it was a little surprising how firm it was, and if you’d not whipped your hand away at mach-fucking-speed it’d probably have tensed a little more

but your hand did retreat much faster than humanely possible

his lips part… expecting some sort of comment from him

you already began to scheme some sort of excuse

it was the wind.

he was hallucinating, how much sleep did he get last night?

and then he readjusts his tie, looks down at his clipboard and carries on talking

…

..

what??

you, his significant other, just touched his ass and his response is to read out your ‘average platelet count’ and ‘mild arrhythmia but-nothing-out-of-the-normal-for-you’???

when you look at him incredulously, he falters ever so slightly

“What’s the matter?”

not so politely pointing out the obvious that - hey dude, you’re not going to say anything after i groped you?? - he can’t help but respond with an amused huff

replying with something sophisticated about “accidents happen all the time” and that you’re “both mature enough” makes you feel, well, embarrassed at how relaxed he was

it made you want to tease him, mess with him, see him as flustered as you.

so, naturally, as any person would, you asked him if he wanted to “return the favour”

and naturally, as any person would if their partner suggested something like that, zayne’s mind short circuited

“Not in the hospital, Y/N…”

don’t feel too dejected, that night he DEFINITELY made use of that ass (proud believer of zayne doggy style lover)

missions with sylus were always an adventure

you were either going to be diverging on a mini “date” (toooootally platonic.), looking at flowers, enjoying the nicer outskirts of the N109 zone, or quite literally fighting for your life

today… well somehow you found yourselves playing cat and mouse with a group of men…

except imagine the cats had literal war weapons

and the mouse had a crow friend with a bit too smart of a mouth.

which definitely spoke the wrong words at the right times.

sylus had insisted he just “rid of the problem” to which you pointed out that the mission goal was to extract intel from one of the masked members

after muttering something unintelligible under his breath (probably some curses or whinging, man child.) he decided to jog after you

which is how you two ended up hiding behind a flight of stairs, three or four mossy, wooden crates pressing the two of you against the dull brick wall

the faint damp smell of rotting organic matter, however, served nothing to distract you of the sensation of your front pressing a bit too much into sylus

sylus is a tall man, evident by the way his was craning, preventing his hair from brushing on the underside of the stairs

which also meant your lower tummy was pressing flush against his butt.

if sylus was uncomfortable, he definitely did not show it, nor comment on it

in fact, it seemed as though only you noticed the predicament the two of you were in, but you knew that was far from the truth.

nothing could evade his inhuman senses.

the sound of footsteps flooding the streets almost drowned the rush of blood that was flowing through your face, invading your ears and sending a dull ring through your skull

why was it kind of soft?

would it not be more muscled, toned?? his thighs look well sculpted, does he neglect his ass??

or is he just born with a peachy butt? is he blessed by some butt genie?

peace be with you, butt genie, this ass is marvellous.

“Sweetie, they’re all gone.”

his low, calm voice reels your mind back as you realise what was going on.

oh my god. you were literally GROPING his ass.

hastily pushing back and away, you almost tumble over the crates as you distance from his ass as MUCH as possible

it was too powerful, like a magnet it’s force field dragged your body to it!

as sylus was extracting himself from the hiding spot, you slowly come up with some sort of repentance, an apology.

you’d say you apologise for pushing any boundaries and that you understand that it was inappropriate and then the two of you would continue with the mission.

which was obviously why when he was dusting off his clothes you stutter out “You can touch my butt too.”

if you were trying to see sylus surprised for the first time, it definitely was successful.

after his initial confusion, a little smirk plastered his lips as he raised an eyebrow

“Could I claim my prize now?”

with the hesitant nod of your head, a large, warm hand clasps around one of your cheeks and gives it a firm squeeze.

he lets out a deep, appreciative hum before letting his thumb rub across the peak of your butt, then lifting his other hand to gently tap the end of your nose

“Naughty kitten, don’t offer these services to anyone else. Okay?”

end note: ARGHHH i’m not happy with this lowkey but i can’t do any better!! im so sorry requester if this disappoints (;´д｀)

[jintaka-hane]

The Eagle and the Hummingbird

Masterlist

Img: Silver mechanical bird with blue crystals By Coolarts223

Summary: Kid likes you. And he's been wanting to give you a gift for a while now. The problem is, for all his mechanical know-how, he's got zero emotional intelligence. Word count: 1000

“Really? They can fly backwards?” Heat propped his elbows on the dining table, hanging on your every word.

“Yes, they’re the only ones who can,” there was a note of pride in your voice as you shared your knowledge with your crewmates. “When they’re done feeding, they fly backwards to get their long beak out of the flower.”

“Pff, a dumb thing that sucks on flowers,” Kid’s voice came with a scoff from his spot, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Yeah... it’s not a dumb thing, Kid. It’s a bird.”

You locked eyes with your captain for a moment, your frown lingering as you tried to suppress a smile. It was impossible for you to stay mad at him for long, especially when he crinkled his nose like that, giving him a look you’d describe as a disgruntled eagle.

“And that’s your favorite animal?” Killer was holding his glass with both hands, peering at you through the small holes in his mask.

“Yes! They’re amazing, only 5 cm long and they flap their wings between 50 and 80 times a second—”

“I wish I could move my hands that fast,” Heat said, lost in thought.

"So you could flap your 5 cm little bird?" Wire chimed in as he strolled into the mess hall.

There was a moment of silence before the men erupted into explosive, raucous roar.

Wire cracked up, nearly doubling over at his own joke; Kid slammed his hand on the doorframe, laughing so hard he almost fell over, and Killer wiped tears from his mask as he raised his beer to toast with Heat, who was trying to keep up with the chaotic cheer.

“You guys are hopeless,” you let out a frustrated sigh, and gave Wire a playful nudge on the forearm. “I’m off to bed.”

As you made your way through the door, you had to maneuver around Kid, who stayed put, watching you leave with a peculiar glint in his eye.

“Good night, Cap’.”

******

The next morning, you had barely stepped into the galley for breakfast when the captain welcomed you by angrily tossing a small metal object in your direction.

"Take it," he snapped, his face twisted in a sulky pout.

“Wha–”, the object landed on your chest, and you quickly brought your hands up to catch it before it fell. As you looked at it, your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of one of the most finely crafted and beautiful mechanical pieces you’d ever seen.

It was a tiny hummingbird made from pieces of iron and steel, with some parts joined by tiny screws and others carefully melted and welded together. It was incredibly light, standing on its own in the palm of your hand on two exquisitely thin legs with detailed toes and claws. The beak was perfectly polished, and a tail made of fine metal sheets, shaped like feathers, served to balance the weight backward.

Totally awestruck by the extraordinary craftsmanship, you glanced at Kid, who was intently watching your reaction from across the room with a scowl under his protective goggles.

“Kid… this—”

“It’s just some fucking crap I found the other day while cleaning up the workshop,” he cut you off bluntly, turning his back to you to pour himself a black coffee. “Ain’t got room to keep shit like that.”

You observed the beautiful mechanical bird, and run your thumb over the delicate engravings on its metal surface.

“Whoa! No way!” Heat’s voice rang out as he walked into the room. He rushed over to see what you were holding, and with a look that silently asked for permission took the object from your hands and lifted it to eye level to scrutinize it. “Is this... a hummingbird?!”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off the small metal figure, and how Heat turned it around to get a better look.

“Does it flap its wings?”

“Of course it flaps its wings,” Kid snapped, immediately crossing the distance between you in just three strides. He snatched the hummingbird from Heat's hand and with an unexpected gentleness, carefully placed it back in the palm of your hand. After he pressed a few tiny buttons, you heard the soft click of gears syncing perfectly as the little bird gracefully unfurled its wings. Slowly, it began to flap, its speed increasing until the metal feathers blurred before your eyes.

"It beats its wings exactly 75 times per second," his painted lips stretched into a wide grin of pride when he heard you gasp in awe.

"Can you make it fly?"

The bird gracefully lifted off from the palm of your hand, hovering effortlessly in the air above before moving a short distance forward. After a few seconds, its tiny wings rotated symmetrically to adjust to the perfect angle, catching the air from front to back, and the bird flew backward.

"I can make anything out of metal fly," he chuckled at you, full of himself.

“Kid…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you shifted your gaze from the hummingbird to the captain’s honey-colored eyes, “it’s perfect.”

“Yeah... whatever.” His heart swelled with an unexpected warmth as he watched your face light up with that adorable smile, but unsure of what to do with the feeling, his expression settled back into a sour pout.

“A-anyway," he scratched his neck awkwardly, "I ain’t got time for this shit. It was just taking up space in the workshop, so I was gonna toss it. Keep it if you want... or throw it away, I don’t fucking care.”

At that moment Killer walked in, his inscrutable gaze sweeping over the scene before landing on the extremely strong coffee the captain had poured for himself.

“Kid, how many hours of sleep did you get? It was 5 AM, and the workshop lights were still on.”

Kid shot him a murderous glance, his cheeks radiating warmth as they flushed a light pink.

“Huh? No, they weren’t–”

“Yes, they were. And I was starting to get worried with all those curses and banging and—”

“KIL," Kid gritted his teeth in warning, "shut th—” .

“—hammering at that hour.”

Heat and you exchanged glances before turning your attention to the captain, who was now burning as red as his tousled hair.

“Fuck, Kil!” he barked, trying not to meet your gaze. “WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?!”

..............

Taglist: @fanaticsnail <3

[chiasaaa]

— the night is yours

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: your niece from belgium visits you in madrid to interview your boyfriend for her academic paper.

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when you told sae to vacate his saturday for you, he expected something planned for both of you is up in play. true enough, there is a plan. it’s just far from what he expected it to be.

he sits on the single recliner in your shared living room, distant eyes staring right through the soul of your poor cowering niece. sae always despised interviews—always viewed it as people trying to dissect the information they want to manipulate for themselves right out of his system. it’s uncanny.

sae already bears with the fame by giving short single responses whenever a match ends and he’s declared the most valuable player of his time (which happens all the time), and he absolutely despises every second of it. it’s every second wasted when he could be celebrating his win with you instead. he had no idea how you managed to convince him to participate in your niece’s little project, yet there he was.

maybe the tea you coaxed him with proved effective, after all. that, and a little something you promised him for when the interview’s finished and you have your home alone for yourselves.

he must love you very much, is what goes on in his mind as he watched your niece scramble through the sheets of paper she had prepared for this day.

“hey,” he called out to her softly, causing her to pause from her anxious squirming. “it’s alright. take your time.”

though it was nothing special, he saw how his assurance helped her relax. she nods by a tad bit, then stacked her papers together neatly. unbeknownst to the two, you’ve been watching through the corner of your eyes as you face them sideways on the counter stool, pretending to work on the designs your team had previously come up with for approval.

your niece isn’t that far from your age, currently 15 years old. a gap of three years has always been quite weird as it stands between ‘we’re old enough to view life differently’ and ‘but we’re young enough to get along well’. for someone like sae, however, it’s a completely different story. he’s like an old man stuck in a young player’s body. people normally find it hard to get along with him. and you know that he gives zero fucks about anyone.

however, one thing you love about him is that he tries. he will always try if it means being closer to your family. quite the awkward fellow he can be, but it becomes a part of his charm at some point. even your father, who had long been against you dating, grew fond of him. now that you see him trying his best to make your niece comfortable with him, you could only quietly fawn over the sight.

he always gives you reasons to fall in love everyday—not like he still has to.

you have already loved him for him.

you have never been so lucky.

“as an athlete, of course it’s important for us to maintain a healthy balanced diet because—“ you snapped out of your own world when sae’s voice penetrated through your ears in a gentle tone. your eyes glided back to his direction, finding him talking through a clipped mic on his shirt. they finally proceeded with the interview proper after fifteen minutes of preparing, and he’s as collected as ever.

though, this is the first time you’ve ever heard him respond to an interview so coherently. as if he made an effort to put his answers together well enough for your niece to extract useful information. and as he was going through with the interview, he caught a glance of you watching.

you smiled, so sweetly and gratefully that it had him pause for a moment as well. sae knew what you were telling him through your honey-dipped eyes. he didn’t need you to tell him, just as much as you didn’t need him to tell you when he sent the faintest smile back.

when the interview was over, you and sae walked your niece out the porch.

“thank you for today, auntie!” she hugged you tight, grateful for making the interview possible in the first place. she was only ever able to pursue the topic she wanted because of you connections, after all.

“no worries, hija. tell your mom to drop you off again same time tomorrow, yeah? sae and i plan to take you around the city before you fly back home.”

“really? thank you!” she then turns to sae. “thank you too, uncle sae! i’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

and so she runs off to the taxi cab where her mother waits, taking them home as soon as she enters. you and sae stay by the porch until they’re out of sight, with sae still stunned that your niece finally called him uncle for the first time in the three years you’ve acquainted them.

“looks like you’re promoted, uncle sae.” you tease, smirking as he closed the door after you entered. “does this call for a congratulations?”

he rolls his eyes. of course, the ever so teasing you will make a big deal out of it. though, he can’t blame you. he has to admit that it had him a little excited to feel part of your family.

“maybe it does,” he comes forward and gently tugged you close by the waist, “don’t act like i forgot about your promise to me, hermosa.”

chuckling, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and teased him with a peck on his lips. “oh, i didn’t.” you leaned closer until your lips hovered by his ear. “and you have permission to do what you want with me for the rest of the night, mi guapo.”

that was all he needed to hear, and you’re in for yet another sleepless night filled with blissful memories.

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 1

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none! maybe small age gap (reader is 20, mike is like 23/24 ?) lmk if there’s something i missed by chance

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. pt. 1 of a multi part series!

could be seen as a prequel to my first work My Favorite Prize, but wasn’t written with the intention :) hopefully this doesn’t feel too long, i promise it gets better in pt 2! mostly exposition here 😌

——————————————————————————

College was not the experience you’d expected at all. You lived at home deciding to attend community college, and you didn’t have many friends or the ‘college experience’ everyone else was having. You were lonely, but at least you went to bed in your own room every night rather than sharing a tiny dorm with an annoying roommate and zero privacy.

“I think I found a job for you, y/n.” you heard your mom say as you walked in the door, barely crossing the threshold.

She had been begging you to find a job for months now. You had an agreement with your parents that freshman year you would focus on your studies, but sophomore year you had to step up and start helping balance the burden of college tuition. It was now spring semester of sophomore year and you still had no job.

“Don’t hand me another McDonalds application, please.” you said with a sigh as you placed your keys and bag on the dining room table.

“You know the neighbor across the street, Mike?” you felt your heart drop with the mention of his name. How could you not know the neighbor across the street.

He immediately caught your attention the day he moved in with his sister. You knew he was a few years older than you, he wasn’t in school and he was constantly working. He was nice. Although, you’d never truly spoken to him besides introducing yourself back when he initially moved in and you were just a junior in high school. Your parents often helped him keep up with yard work when things got especially hard. Everyone knew they were struggling, it wasn’t that hard to tell.

“Yeah, I remember him.” Of course I remember Mike. He’s the neighbor that I’ve found a little too attractive since he moved in.

“I saw him this morning before work, he was telling me they’ve been in a really bad place lately. Abby’s babysitter quit, so I might’ve offered for you to stop by and help a few times a week.” your mother said, saying it as fast as possible so you couldn’t object.

“Really, mom?” you said sounding annoyed. “You couldn’t have talked to me about this before throwing me into it?”

“Listen, it won’t be that bad. I told him you’d stop by after dinner to just try it out, no commitment. He’ll be there while you just hang out with Abby for a few hours, you know how she is.” Abby was a sweet kid, just a little quieter than other kids her age.

“Okay fine, I’ll go. No promises this will work out.” You replied as you walked to your room, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead of you.

An hour later you found yourself at the doorstep of the Schmidt’s. You hesitantly raised your hand to knock on the door. You waited a moment until the door swung open.

You saw Mike standing in front of you and he honestly looked like a mess. His dark hair was all over the place and his eyes looked tired as can be. He was wearing a black hoodie, the front pocket was falling apart, and jeans that had dirt stains all over the front.

“Hey, y/n, right?” he said.

“Yeah, my mom told me you needed someone to help look after Abby.” you said, getting a good look at his eyes. This was the first time you’d ever seen them in detail. They were brown with a few specks of green and hazel in them. They were actually pretty nice to look at.

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “I didn’t intend on accidentally hiring you for this. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s totally fine.” you said chuckling yourself, looking down at your hands. “I’ve been needing a job, so it’s kind of a blessing in disguise.”

“You’re in college right? You’re studying… what was it again?” your mom must’ve really given him the rundown.

”Cybersecurity, second year.” you said with a small smile, blush creeping up on your face. You never got used to people complimenting your accomplishments even though you had been an honors student since 3rd grade.

“Right, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“Anyways, feel free to come in, Abby should be somewhere around here.” he said as he moved out of the doorway, welcoming you into the home.

The house looked cleaner than you’d expected, given the state of the outside of it. It was pretty ordinary and plain. He walked towards the living room, where you could see Abby laying on the ground. There was a TV in front of her playing some kind of old cartoon. An assortment of crayons, markers, and other art supplies were sprawled all across the ground.

“Hey Abs, I want you to meet someone.” Mike said to the young girl. You walked over to stand beside him. “This is y/n, she’s going to hang out with you for a bit today, okay?”

“Hi Abby, it’s nice to meet you!” you said with a smile.

Abby looked at Mike as he spoke, then looked at you, back at Mike again, before finally going back to whatever she was drawing earlier.

“She’s gonna be a little shy at first.” he whispered to you. “Once you start talking to her she should hopefully open up a bit. I’m gonna catch up on some stuff around the house if you need anything.” he gave you a reassuring smile before walking away.

“What kind of drawing is that?” you said in an attempt to start conversation with the girl. She looked at you for a moment before looking back down. This is going to be a long night.

You decided that your initial approach wasn’t going to work. So, you got down to her level. You sat down next to her on the ground, grabbing a piece of paper and marker.

“I like drawing too, you know. Give me the name of any cartoon character and I can draw it for you.” you said softly.

She gave you a side eye, before turning her head towards your face. “Any character?”

“Yup, any character.” you said with a smile.

“Felix the Cat.” she said just before turning her attention back to the paper in front of her. This girl knows her stuff.

After a few minutes of sketching the character, you set the paper down in front of her. She paused her own work, taking the paper into her hands. She looked at you again.

“Can you draw Yogi Bear?” She commented while still looking at the sketch in her hands, sitting up just a bit straighter.

“Sure.” you said before grabbing more paper and markers.

Before you knew it, there was a large stack of drawings from the two of you featuring all sorts of characters ranging from Mickey Mouse to the Powerpuff Girls. The two of you had been doodling for almost 3 hours now, pausing every so often to talk about why they chose the characters they chose. The two of you were now discussing your favorite drawings of the night.

“I think my favorite is…” Abby began before thinking for a moment, “Courage the Cowardly Dog.”

“That’s a good one. Look at how good your drawing is!” you said to the young girl as you both laid on the ground flipping through the pages of art.

“Not as good as yours y/n!” Abby said to you, holding a stack of her favorites in her hands.

The two of you continued your conversation as Mike returned back to check in on you guys. He was genuinely surprised at how quickly Abby opened up to your company. He stood out of the girls sights for just a moment longer, taking in the sounds of laughter coming from both his sister and you.

“Hey Abs, it’s getting late, you wanna get ready for bed?” he said as he walked into the room.

“Mikeee!” Abby whined. “I’m having so much fun with y/n. Please can I stay up a little longer?”

“It’s okay Abby, I’ll be back again soon and we can do it all over again.” you reassured the girl with a smile.

“Do you promise?” she asked you.

“I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Of course!” you said with a laugh, pinky promising that you’d be back. Mike watched the interaction unfold with a smile.

“Alright, go get ready for bed, I’ll come tuck you in soon.” Mike told his sister.

“Bye y/n!” Abby shouted as she made her way to her room.

“So, how was she?” Mike asked you as you stood up from the floor, attempting to tidy up some of the mess you both made.

“Great, actually. I thought she adjusted fairly quickly. You’ve got quite the picasso on your hands.” you said as you quickly gestured to the now extremely messy floor.

“It’s one of the only things that keeps her entertained.” he said with a small chuckle. “But in all seriousness, I can tell she really trusts you. She hasn’t had a babysitter who actually cared for her like this in a while.”

“It was fun, I’m glad it seemed like she had a good time.” you said with a smile. “So when do you think you’ll need me here again?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“No that’s perfect. Already looking forward to it.”

“You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“Seriously, I’m happy to help. I really did have a great time with Abby.”

“Tomorrow it is then.” he said before shuffling through his pockets for a few dollars, attempting to hand you them. “Here, take this for coming on such short notice.”

“Mike, it’s fine. I really don’t mind. You need it more than I do.” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?” he said, almost as if he had to convince himself it was okay.

“I’m sure.” you said as you headed towards the front door. “I think I’m gonna head out now.”

“Thanks again, y/n.” he said through the door as you walked out, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Of course, anytime. See you tomorrow.” you said with a small wave. You walked home with a different feeling inside. You knew taking this little job to help out the neighbor you never attempted to truly get to know was gonna be fun.

Mike shut the door after making sure you crossed the street safely, making his way to Abby’s room.

“Y/n is really fun, Mike.” she said as she pulled the covers over her body.

“That’s good, Abs.” he said as he grabbed one of her favorite teddy bears, handing it to her.

“I think we’re going to be best friends.” she said smiling at the new assortment of drawings she already managed to tape to her walls.

“You be nice to her, okay Abby?” he said to her. “I know how you can get, don’t screw this one up.”

“Okay Mike.” she said groaning, rolling her eyes slightly.

He shut off the lamp next to her bed, giving his sister a small kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, Abby.”

He shut the door to Abby’s room, making his way back to the living room floor to clean up the mess that was still there. He grabbed one of the left over papers, admiring the assortment of characters on the paper. Right in the middle of it all were two stick figures which could only be assumed to be you and Abby.

He smiled at it, recognizing he had a good feeling about this babysitter. Not only because of how it could help Abby, but because he finally got the neighbor girl to break out of her own shell. Maybe it could even help him too.

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the ask game, an AU where (somehow…) jason and tim (begrudgingly) team up in the search for a hero/battle for the cowl era (either when jason says tim should work with him on the gang stuff or when batman jason asks tim to be his robin) :]

for the ask game!

god, Search For A Hero my beloved. for the Search For A Hero version of their team-up, I think I'd write it something like this

I think the biggest reason Tim says no when Jason asks him is Jason asks Tim too early in the arc. as the storyline develops, Tim gets more and more desperate to best Ulysses, which is what pushes him to make the mistake that gets Ulysses' siblings killed. he's in a tight spot and he misjudges the situation. (i think the guilt he carries from that moment is one of the biggest inciting incidents for becoming Red Robin) so, i'd introduce Jason to the plot just a little later. just as Tim is on the edge of desperation. Tim isn't entirely adverse to working with villains if he thinks he can stay on top of them. so instead of sending Jason to prison, i think if Jason came to Tim at the right time, Tim would begrudging accept Jason's help

part of Tim's plan would be leveraging Jason's power with the mafia/mob scene in Gotham. they'd agree that topping the gangs would just cause a power vacuum (i'm pretty sure that's actually addressed in SFAH but i could be misremembering) so it's more about a balancing act, which is where Jason thrives. Tim is right on the cusp of being willing to do more morally questionable things, so it'd be a fun internal war for him to second-guess himself at every turn.

there would be such a delightful lack of trust in their partnerships. TIm has *zero* reason to trust Jason, and while Jason likes Tim enough, i don't think he's naive enough to put any trust in Tim. so there'd be moments where they don't fill each other in on aspects of the plan. Jason kills people behind Tim's back, Tim keys in his cop friend behind Jason's back. it builds the tension between them with a lot of hot arguments that get more and more charged.

the jealousy. there would just have to be a scene where Jason gets wildly jealous over Ulysses' complex over Tim. Ulysses tries so hard to pit himself as like, Tim's biggest adversary, his opposite. and Jason would *despise* that. sure, Jason is working with Tim, but part of the fun is that they're still enemies as they do it. i think it'd be sort of fun to have the moment where Ulysses blows Tim up be something Jason witnesses and he raises unholy hell about. because if anyone is going to kill Tim Drake, it's going to be him. and that angry possessiveness is what makes the romantic/sexual tension something neither of them can ignore anymore.

Tim deciding to put on the Red Robin suit to fight Ulysses would be where Jason just. goes full tilt possessive "he's mine i marked him that's my suit. see. mine. i said so." and Tim would push back but. what ground does he have to stand on bc he could've picked any suit with any cowl to protect his head after the blast, but he did choose Jason's. it was his own open invitation to Jason in a way. and well. they fuck nasty about it. and then Damian becomes Robin, so why not Tim keep the suit and just maybe, keep Jason in his back pocket.

and!! for the Battle for the Cowl version. man on one hand i love "Tim accepts Jason's offer to be his Robin" fics but i feel they lack a bite to them, so this is personally how i would try to pull it off, while being relatively in character.

so the biggest thing for me is, TIm agrees to be Jason's Robin not because he trusts or likes Jason, but for the same reasons he became Robin in the first place: to keep Batman stable. being Jason's Robin isn't about wanting to work with Jason, it would be Tim knowing there's no world Jason is ever going to stop and seeing Jason slowly tip over the edge of madness and well. if Tim was self-sacrificial enough to do it for Bruce and attempt to do it for Jean-Paul, he can do it for Jason.

him agreeing would i think startle Jason. like, Jason's offer was never particularly serious because he's at the point he knows Tim wants nothing to do with him. so when Tim says yes it sort of. snaps Jason out of the rage BftC puts him in. he's so startled but enticed by the thought, he willingly agrees to stipulations Tim sets, like no murder. like even if just to see where this goes, Jason jumps on the chance.

i'd really want to keep Dick and Damian as Batman and Robin, and the weird divide that would exist with Dick/Damian and Jason/Tim both running around as Batman/Robin and how off kilter that puts Gotham. like Gotham is so baffled by it, it actually makes criminals easier to handle. because they have no clue if they're getting the Batman who needs Robin to keep him in line, or the Robin who needs Batman to keep him in line. people know there's two Batmans, two Robins and no one knows quite what to do with that information. who's the "real" Batman? who's the "real" Robin? and on the personal level, the divide between Dick and Tim would be unmistakable. Dick would know what Tim's doing and try to convince him Jason is a lost cause bc well, Dick at this point *really* believes Jason is a lost fucking cause. So Dick's genuine care and concern for Tim just drives a further wedge between them.

i think there'd need to be a scene where Tim flat out asks if Jason even *wants* to be Batman. in a sort of attempt to slowly ween Jason off of being Batman, but also because i don't think Jason ever really wants to be Batman, he just wants Batman to be what his vision of justice is. and it'd be the first real heart to heart they have, discussing the legacy of the Robin and Batman mantles and how it's affected them. it'd be heated, but it'd be their first real conversation as just. Jason and Tim.

to me, i think the end goal of this AU would be Tim successfully "taming" Jason, and not in like a soft way, but in like a manipulative way, where even Jason knows that's what Tim is doing, but he just goes along with it because it's the first real human connection he's had in a while. also, i would work in Scarlet, Jason's sidekick in Batman & Robin (2009) as like. a pseudo daughter figure for them to help Jason find his humanity a bit. so it's not just Tim as Jason's rock, but also this misguided girl they'd both try to help. and well, then they ride into the sunset and all that, but still have a complicated, toxic dynamic they're both aware is unhealthy, but as balanced as it can be.

[nilolemillion]

Let’s get one thing straight (very unlike me): Batman loves his kids. All of them. He’d die for each one in a heartbeat (of course not kill for them, cough cough Jason). But if you think for one second that Bruce Wayne, the guy who regularly dresses as a bat and fights crime at 3 AM (cough cough insomniac furry.), has a favorite BatKid, then clearly, you’ve never met his children. He doesn’t have a favorite, not because he loves them equally, but because none of these potatoe pie pumpkin cutie-headed chaos gremlins deserve to be his favorite.

Let me explain.

Dick Grayson (WOOP WOOP that’s the sound of that police. Yes Karen, I know he’s no longer an officer, NO KAREN I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.):

The first pancake. The golden boy. Everyone assumes that Dick has a special place in Bruce’s heart because he was the first Robin. He’s charming, he’s capable, and he smiles like he’s got a fucking sponsorship deal with Colgate. But let’s be real, this guy left the nest the second he could, started his own superhero gig in Blüdhaven, and still occasionally shows up to remind Bruce that he doesn’t need him (yes king, show your independence, love that for you.) And you know Dick is the type to throw that ‘you’re getting old, B’ line out there just to twist the knife. Bruce loves him, but how can he be the favorite when he’s busy playing Batman-lite with better hair?

Jason Todd (My personality favorite zombie, resuscitated character in the whole world, I love him so much and all the Outlaws.):

Oh, Jason. The problem child. The one Bruce failed, died, and came back with a vengeance (literally). You’d think after all that tragedy, Bruce might go a little easier on him. But Jason? This kid shows up at family dinners with guns blazing, ready to debate the morality of lethal force like it’s Thanksgiving dinner conversation (and it is, I did it and it was quite fun.) Sure, Bruce would die for him (again), but Jason pushes every button Bruce has like it’s his job. One minute he’s trying to be the better vigilante, the next, he’s making Gotham’s criminals wonder if Batman has gone completely off the rails. If Jason’s Bruce’s favorite, it’s in the ‘how are you still alive and not in jail?’ kind of way.

Tim Drake (DC DROP ANOTHER CANON ILLUSTRATION OF TIM BEING A CUTE LIL STALKER AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!):

Tim’s the brainiac of the family, the kid who deduced Bruce’s secret identity with zero help. Naturally, you’d think this would earn him some serious brownie points. But here’s the thing, Tim works way too hard. He’s got all the signs of a caffeine addiction (which is completely and absolutely understandable, he’s just a little silly and caffeine addicts are hot, yes I am too), zero concept of work-life balance, and is always trying to out-detective Bruce. Yeah, Bruce admires his dedication, but let’s be honest: Tim’s the kid you have to physically shove into bed because he thinks sleep is a myth. Bruce is just trying to prevent this kid from burning out before he’s 30. How can Tim be the favorite when Bruce spends most of his time making sure he doesn’t turn into an insomniac vigilante-zombie?

Damian Wayne (I’m literally making my birthday party theme of him, that should explain enough.):

Ah, Damian. His literal blood son. You’d think that alone would give him a shot at favorite-child status, right? Wrong. Damian is an adorable, pint-sized murder machine with a superiority complex the size of Wayne Manor. Bruce loves him fiercely, of course, but Damian’s idea of father-son bonding is training in deadly combat and arguing about why his assassination techniques are totally valid. Plus, he’s got that whole ‘I’m the heir to the world’s deadliest league of assassins’ thing going on. Sure, he’s Bruce’s kid, but you know he’s never going to let Bruce forget it. Not exactly favorite material when he’s constantly plotting world domination during family movie night. (Dw, he won’t act on it, Alfred made very clear that the batkid who dares dominate the world will be banned from his pastries. Besides, he’s too busy scratching Titus’ belly, he doesn’t have time to dominate the world. PRIORITIES BITCH.)

Cassandra Cain (I stan her more than I stand my own life. Help. I literally crocheted a plushy of her.):

Cassandra is probably the least rebellious out of the bunch, which should give her an edge, right? Wrong again. Cass may be quiet and respectful most of the time, but when she does go rogue, it’s on her terms, and it’s not just a small rebellion. No, Cass will disappear for weeks on end, take down a crime syndicate by herself, and then show up like it’s no big deal. Bruce can’t even stay mad because she’s so good at what she does. But Cass’s habit of ghosting the entire family and dealing with things solo? Yeah, it keeps her out of the running for favorite. Plus, she’s secretly the most dangerous one, and Bruce can’t play favorites with someone who could take him out without even blinking.

Duke Thomas (He’s was the sunshine I was midnight rain. DC DROP ANOTHER CANON ILLUSTRATION OF ISABELLA WITH DUKE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!):

Duke the daylight protector of Gotham, which is cute and all, except that Bruce has no idea how to parent in the daylight. Duke brings this bright, positive energy to the BatFamily, which sounds great in theory, but this is Bruce we’re talking about. The guy who lives for darkness and brooding. Bruce loves Duke’s optimism, but it’s like trying to teach a vampire to enjoy the sun. Plus, Duke has a habit of questioning everything, and sure, Bruce appreciates his independent streak, but do you really want a favorite who keeps making you reconsider your life choices?

Stephanie Brown (My sweet dear and beloved purple queen, I love her so much.):

Not an adopted batkid, her mom is alive I think… But I don’t give a duck KAREN. Stephanie is the wildcard, the one who does whatever she wants, whenever she wants, and somehow gets away with it. She’s staged fake deaths, gotten fired from being Robin, and still keeps coming back for more. Stephanie’s whole existence is an exercise in chaos theory. Bruce loves her resilience and her ‘never-say-die’ attitude (literally), but how can she be his favorite when her middle name might as well be ‘Loose Cannon’? She’s the kind of kid who’ll fight crime while live-tweeting it. Yeah, Bruce loves her, but he’s not rewarding that kind of energy with a favorite child title. (I’m still confused about her age thingy.)

So no, Bruce doesn’t have a favorite. Because how could he? His kids are walking, talking disasters, each one a different flavor of chaos. Bruce loves them all more than anything in the world, but picking a favorite would be like trying to choose between different natural disasters. Earthquakes, tornadoes, volcanic eruptions, they’re all beautiful in their own destructive way, but you wouldn’t want to pick one to live through. In the end it’s about Bruce somehow surviving all of them.

[colibrie]

Uncharted Territory, Part 2

Hello all! Sorry for the delay in updates. As always art credit and eternal gratitude to @trilobitepunch for her amazing art and her incredible patience.

Yakai system: 6 hours later

Mikey liked to think of himself as a turtle with many talents. With so many interesting things to do and experience in the universe, he’d never seen the point in limiting himself to just one hobby. He was a chef, an artist, and an acrobat. He was a jedi in training. He knew the importance of timing and strength. He had worked hard to cultivate balance, and perhaps most essentially, patience. Patience was the difference between a masterpiece and a disappointment. Patience was the difference between peace and agitation. Patience was the foundation of all things…

But his patience was three seconds away from socking Leonardo in the face.

“There’s a rock…and another rock…and, oh look, there’s even more rocks!”

“Thank you, Leo.”

“What? I’m just admiring the fascinating scenery,” Leo’s obnoxiously sour-sweet tone matched the sarcastic show of teeth in the smile he flashed. “You take me to the nicest places Angelo.”

Mikey pulled in a slow and subtle breath, fighting the urge to clench his jaw or bite his lip as he carefully maneuvered their ship around a small asteroid at the edge of a medium sized cluster. He knew what his elder brother was doing. He’d been doing it since he’d woken up crabby from his far too short nap, mood souring further when Mikey had refused to move from the pilot seat. He was trying to get under Mikey’s shell to provoke a reaction. Which really wasn't that unusual. There wasn’t a creature alive who could out petty Leo when he was in the mood to be difficult. The taller turtle seemed to have a sixth sense for spite, an innate talent that zeroed in on the most obnoxious and annoying elements of a situation then dialing them eleven.

It didn’t help that the environment beyond the view screen was the definition of desolation. The Yakai system was indeed comprised of a massive asteroid field, large chunks of dull grey rock stretched in all directions, dust and debris hanging limply in the space between. Two small planets sat lifelessly in the center of it all, surfaces dyed the by gas clouds of the sickliest yellow, green and cream. They were hues he would have immediately rejected from his palette, their image as appalling as they were disheartening. To top it off, the absence of wakes or other disturbances in the area suggested that no one had transversed the asteroid field in a long time.

Mikey was loath to admit it, but the hope that had burned so brightly inside him after their success with the holocron was slowly shrinking. The connection to that bonfire at his core was dwindling, heat leeched away by the seemingly ever-growing black hole of unanswered questions and unaddressed baggage trailing them. The violent introduction to his “deceased” brothers, the unsettled conflict between Leo and their father, the unusually vague details of their plan, and the anxious insecurity of meeting someone who had played such a pivotal role in their childhoods, but who’s image he could not call to mind, no matter how far back he dug in his memories. It was all starting to feel…heavy.

“Hate to say it baby bro, but it looks like this was a waste of-”

“We haven’t even checked half of the cluster!” Mikey snapped, cringing slightly as Leo locked onto the irritation in his voice.

“Running down every speck of dust isn’t going to make someone not here magically appear,” Leo argued, flashing an edged smirk that made Mikey want to kick him in the teeth.

He forced himself to relax, to soften his next words into something closer to a gentle tease. “Don’t count your smooka’s before they hatch Leo. I’d hate to have to embarrass you in it in front of Master Karai.”

George let out a happy chur from his place wrapped around Mikey’s neck, little head rubbing encouragingly against Mikey’s cheek.

“See? George thinks so too!”

“I don’t care what George thinks! George is a dumb animal who will do anything for a treat!” Leo snapped suddenly, the mood in the cabin plunging as an oppressive weight settled over it. Something alien was churning behind his brother’s irises as he struck them with a glare, something that made every nerve in Mikey’s body jolt. George cringed back, tail tightening as he chittered fearfully and under Mikey's chin for safety.

“Hey!” Mikey bristled, one hand coming up to protectively cover his friend as he returned Leo’s glare with one of his own. “You know who else doesn’t get a vote, the annoying raincloud who has contributed literally NOTHING to finding a solution to our problems! At least, I am trying! At least I am doing something other than whining “that’s not how it works!” repeatedly! And George didn’t do anything to you, so quit being a jerk!”

The tension grew as they stared each other down, metaphorical hackles rising as the siblings sized one another up. Mikey kept his face frozen in a stern scowl, pushing down the sympathetic twinge in his chest at how bloodshot his older brothers’ eyes were, how hollow they’d grown, lined with dark bags that were beginning to look like bruises. He wasn’t stupid, or blind. He knew how active his elder brother’s demons had been since leaving home, how the weight of their situation pressed down on Leonardo.

He’d wished a thousand times he knew how to help, but he didn’t. Usually, he could guess what the issue was, or prod the answers out of Leo after giving him some space and time. But those tactics weren’t working now. Up until recently, he'd known little to nothing about the missing half of his family. He still didn't know much about them, and Leo had remained frustratingly tight lipped, even though the past was clearly eating him alive.

The seeds of doubt were quick to bloom as the dark energy pressed in, a weed that threatened to choke off his inner fire as thoughts he’d pushed away for hours returned with a vengeance.

What if they didn't find anything? What if Master Karai wasn't here? What if he really was wasting their time and resources? What if he was wrong? what if....

What if he was just making things worse?

A soft coo broke the tension as George butted his head into Mikey’s throat, tiny body thrumming soothingly against his suddenly unsteady pulse. The gossamer soft sensation of unwavering trust and love poked at the edges of the bonfire inside of him, coaxing it to burn brighter in defiance against the darkness. It gave him the strength to push the doubts away again, to take another deep breath and focus only on the now.

Leo wanted a fight, but Mikey was not obliged to give him one. Maybe he couldn’t take away whatever was hurting his brother, but he could help keep things level until Leo was ready to share it. He pulled in two more breaths for good measure before speaking, careful to keep his tone calm but firm.

“I get that this has been stressful. I get that you are tired, and you don’t really want to be here. But that doesn’t give you carte blanche to be an ass. Especially to someone who can’t fight back. You’re better than that Leon.”

He kept face blank as that thing behind Leo’s eyes slowly faded away, the pressure lifting to be replaced by the lighter and more familiar signs of guilt. He kept himself still as Leo cringed and turned away to look out the viewscreen.

“…Yeah…I’m…”

A strident chime from the radar cut him off. The strain of their argument was swiftly shelved as they both leaned forward, foreheads nearly colliding in their haste to huddled in and study the steadily pulsing blip on the screen.

“There’s something over there! It’s in between those two big meteors!” Mikey exclaimed, pointing vigorously towards a cluster of oblong rocks off to the left of their view screen. “It has to be her, there’s a life support system attached to it!”

“Barely,” Leo huffed, squinting doubtfully at the readouts scrolling across the adjacent screen. “For an energy reading that low, life-support would have to be set to the bare minimum. Not great atmosphere for long time occupation.”

“But it could totally…” Mikey blinked, then groaned as Leo flashed him a tentative smile. “Omigosh, Lee that one was awful.”

“I think you mean awesome Miguel,” Leo shrugged, propping his chin on one fist as Mikey tried and failed to hide a snort. “I know, I know, my humor is a breath of fresh air. You’re welcome.”

“You are…so dumb…” Mikey spluttered in reply, any residual hard feelings clinging on from their spat offset by his own smile. Shell, Leo made it hard to stay mad at him.

“Thank you, thank you,” Leo said, sketching a half bow before blowing kisses to an imaginary audience. “I am here all week. And the week after that, and the week after-ack!”

“Nobody cares!” Mikey cheered as he pushed one hand into Leo’s face, laughing as his big brothers’ arms flailed in a comedic bid to maintain his balance. “Not when they can watch me, the daredevil Michelangelo, seamlessly thread the gauntlet of insane asteroids to investigate that signal!”

“Oooooh okay. Feeling bold today, are we? That looks kinda tricky,” Leo noted, casually leaning over to brace one forearm on the pilot’s chair.

“Absolutely! I’ve got this!”

“Alright big man,” Leo nodded slowly, gently tapping his knuckles against Mikey’s shoulder in a gesture that was both equal support and silent apology before sitting back. “Give it a shot. I am here if you need me.”

“I won’t,” Mikey replied, bouncing a little in his seat as he turned the shuttle towards their target. “Hold on to your shell!”

The engines roared under his touch, rocketing them towards the targeted cluster at heart pounding speed.

“COWABUNGA!”

“WHOAHOHO!” Leo yelled, gripping his seat with white knuckle strength as Mikey banked hard to avoid a chunk of debris.

Adrenaline fizzed in his veins, delight bubbling in his lungs as his heart started to dance in time to the thrum of the thrusters. This. This was the part of flying that Mikey actually liked. No fiddly procedures to remember, no gravity to pull or push him in ways he didn’t want to go. Space was like the ultimate acrobatics’ playground, open and empty and waiting to be filled with his amazing razzmatazz. Weaving and banking around corners, dipping down and rising up to avoid obstacles, even a spin or two thrown in for sheer flare, it all felt natural. It was fun!

Watching Leo slowly turn the same color as his arms stripes wasn’t bad either.

The radar pinged louder, and he eased the shuttle back into a steady cruising pace as Leo sat forward, sharp eyes scanning the surrounding asteroids in search of their target. Small stones tinged gently off the view screen as they drifted past, the only sound within the cockpit the increasingly strident bee-blip of the radar.

“There!”

Mikey’s head whipped around, eyes following Leo’s outstretched arm to their prize. Tucked into the shadows of a deep, craggy canyon was the faint outline of a structure surrounded by six smaller lumps.

“There’s a possible landing area on that ledge above the target, but there’s not a whole lot of room for error. Probably why the smugglers-”

“-or Master Karai-"

“-smugglers, chose this spot for their hideout. We’ll have to be careful with how we approach landing. Move over.”

“Nope, I’ve got it,” Mikey, pointing the shuttle nose towards their goal before pressing the controls down.

“Wait!”

He ignored his brothers’ objections as the shuttle responded to his command, nose dipping down sharply to aim towards the ledge. He did not need to be told what to do. He did not need to have his hand held. He could land the ship. Sweat gathered on his palms as the empty vacuum of space swiftly disappeared behind the craggy lips of the canyon walls.

“That’s a really steep approach, maybe pull it back a bit buddy….”

The engines whined as the ship sped onwards, outboard lights throwing jagged spires previously hidden by the gloom in into sharp relief. Sharp pricks of pain burst like fireworks as he dug his teeth into his lower lip, spine curving as he blocked Leo out and threw every shred of concentration into running the maze in front of him. He could do this. He could get them to the target. He could land the ship…

“Mikey, seriously…”

He could find Master Karai. He could become a Jedi. He could get his brothers back. He could …

“Michelangelo that’s way too steep! Pull up!”

The camp was in sight, the ground was growing, but somehow the ledge was shrinking. More rocks bounced off the viewscreen as the walls of the canyon closed in on all sides. Something cold and hard lodged in his throat as his hands slipped, skittering over the buttons as alarms started to shriek. His spine locked, limbs freezing as fear obliterated his thoughts with spikes of jagged grey.

He…He couldn’t…

“PULL UP!”

Blue burst through the grey as something slammed into his shoulder, forcing him halfway out of the pilot seat as iron hands clamped down on the controls. He gasped in shock, then scrambled to grab whatever he could as Leo hauled back hard on the yoke. The world spun as the shuttle jerked, banking into a tight vertical spiral as something hard screeched across the belly of the ship. Metal groaned and shuddered under the sudden strain as his big brothers’ hands danced lightning fast across the consul, shooting them back up into the void above.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Leo whooped, slumping back in relief once they were hovering a safe distance away from any debitage. “Now that was a rush!”

Michelangelo stayed on the floor, chest heaving and body shaking as he stared at the ceiling. Everything felt surreal, like he was only connected to his body by a heart that felt like it was trying to jump into hyperdrive. His lungs felt shriveled, unable to take a full breath. When had it gotten so cold? Was the air truly that thin? Had he compromised the hull in his stupid stunt? Were they in danger of collapse?

“You going to stay down there all…Angelo?”

His eyes stung as they filled with salt, and no amount of blinking managed to clear them. He had messed up. He’d dragged them out here and nearly gotten them killed and…

"Hey, c’mon bro, don’t make that face," Leo cajoled, gentle hands lifting Mikey up to stand on somewhat wobbly legs. Bright green fingers softly grabbed the lip of Mikey's plastron before giving him a gently encouraging shake. "So, you almost spectacularly whiffed a landing that could have majorly damaged the shuttle or injured us, leaving us stranded in a force forsaken asteroid field in the middle of nowhere..."

"Oh wow, thanks Lee. I feel so much better, " Mikey mumbled thickly, shooting a halfhearted glare that turned into a fully affronted scowl when Leo responded by flicking him between the eyes.

"As I was about to say, so what if it almost happened? It didn't, and it won't, because I'm here."

Leo was smiling at him when Mikey chanced another glance up, a smile that oozed confidence and compassion as he slung a sheltering arm around Mikey's shoulders.

“We’re okay Angelo."

"I really thought I had it this time. I thought I could…I just wanted to help…Why is it so hard?!" Mikey groaned, leaning into the comfort as Leonardo pulled him into his chest. Leo's heartbeat was strong and steady under his tympanum, its slightly elevated rhythm methodically walking Mikey's own heart back from its attempts to escape his rib cage.

"Can't be good at everything big man," Leo consoled, planting a gentle kiss on his baby brother’s forehead. "And you help in so many ways! Believe me, I could not do this without you Mikey. You’ll figure out flying eventually, I have no doubt. In the meantime, maybe listen to your talented, brilliant, and handsome big brother, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mikey sighed, leaning back. "Thanks for letting me try Leon."

"Any time. Now, I’ve gotta to run some checks and land us, but why don't you go get the oxygen masks out and prep them to go for a spin."

"Will we need them? Life support still reads as active," Mikey asked as he absently shook the remaining adrenaline from his limbs.

"Trust but verify Michelito. This face is far too pretty to trust to some jury-rigged smuggler set up," Leo replied, breezily tossing his mask tails over his shoulder with a wink.

"Please, it would be an improvement!"

"Rude! Jealousy is not a great color on you Mikey!"

"We'll let Master Karai be the judge of that once we find her!" Mikey shot back, smiling slightly as he made his way to the back of the ship.

He had to stretch to his tiptoes to open the cabinet and retrieve the masks Splinter had jury-rigged for them ages ago. “For emergencies” their father had said, voice as worn as his robes when he'd held their little squirmy bodies still to adjust and ensure the blue and orange straps fit. Though the thick coating of dust on both masks attested to how little use they’d received, colored elastics faded and muted with age, the sight of these little tokens of their fathers’ love was like being wrapped up in one of his warm hugs.

“She’ll side with me.”

“Keep dreaming kiddo.”

Their banter was as familiar and comfortable, jokes and sly digs baniahing the shadows of tension and doubt with bright laughter as Leo carefully brought them back into the confines of the canyon for a smooth landing on the ledge.

“Alright, here is the plan,” Leo called, swinging out of the pilots chair and moving back to the back with an easy swagger in his step. “We are going to pop out, give the place a quick once over in full stealth style. We don’t find anything, or if we find anyone who isn’t Master Karai we book it back here, get the shell out, and try somewhere else. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” Mikey agreed, bending his head to allow Leo to check that his mask was secure before handing his brother his own and returning the favor.

“Alright, then lets jet!” Leo proclaimed, hitting the button to open the back hatch.

The air within the life support bubble was cold enough to send gooseflesh erupting over Mikey's arms and shivers down his shell. The buildings were equally cold and dark, filled with the stale sensation of a place long abandoned. Cabinets doors hung open on broken hinges, while much of the rickety furniture had either been smashed or collapsed on itself.

“Dang,” Leo whistled, flicking on a flashlight to banish the shadows clinging to the interior, “whoever was here last must have left in a hurry. And they definitely haven’t been back to clean up.”

“Maybe she’s been using one of the other buildings? You know, to stay inconspicuous?” Mikey offered, heart sinking as he accidentally kicked a piece of broken chair.

“We can check,” Leo indulged.

None of the outbuildings turned up better results beyond broken crates, and Mikey could do nothing but drag his heavy, bruised heart back to the ship.

“Come on,” Leo ordered, voice oddly gentle as he sealed the back hatch and helped Mikey out of his mask, “let’s get out of here. There are other places we can check.”

"I just...I don't understand," Mikey mumbled, staring hard at the ground as Leo moved to the front to bring their shuttle back online. "Why would the force send us on a wild goose chase? What was the point?!"

"It's like I said man," Leo shrugged as the engines whined to life, "it's just not how the force works."

"Except in this case," a soft voice said from behind them.

The two of them shrieked and jumped, limbs flailing as they spun around to face the invader. A figure stood at the back of the shuttle; body covered by a drab gray cloak with a deep hood that hid their face from view. An extra breathing mask sat innocently on one of the benches, along with two pistol sized blasters.

"Who the shell are you?!" Leo barked, fingers fluttering anxiously as they groped along the consul for something to use as a weapon. "A smuggler?!"

"Of sorts, I suppose," the figure replied calmly.

"We don't want any trouble, but believe me, we can bring the pain if you cross us!" Mikey blustered, waving his fists.

"Says the boy who once cried at the idea that someone might not want to be his friend."

"I...huh?"

"I wasn't sure, when I first started having the visions," the figure continued, moving further into the cabin. "It seemed impossible after all this time. And the results were clouded, without direction. To many possibilities. But two motifs were repeated over and over. Sun and lightning. Blue and orange. And then, just a few hours ago, the visions became clear. This place, the Yakai system. I had to take the chance. I had to…"

"What are you talking about?! Who are you?!" Leo spluttered.

Mikey blinked, arms slowly dropping. "Wait... are you..."

"I was afraid I wouldn’t make it in time… and you've both grown so much, I hardly recognized you at first. But I could never forget my boys."

The figure reached up, pushing back their hood. Stands of black and grey hair framed dark eyes and a pale face marked by fine lines of stress and age. A slim but fit figure lay beneath the cloak’s heavy edges, dressed in a worn green tunic, pants, and weathered leather boots. Empty holsters sat on either hip.

"Do you still like to paint Michelangelo?"

"OMIGOSH! YOU… YOU'RE MASTER KARAI!" Mikey shrieked, reserve giving way as he began jumping up and down. He threw himself forward, crossing the distance to wrap her in the tightest hug he could muster. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU'D BE HERE!"

Karai laughed softly as he lifted her off her feet. Her small hands patted the sides of his shell, doing their best to hold him back even with her arms pinned to her sides.

"I KNEW THE FORCE WOULD HELP US!" he shouted again, plopping Karai down before whirling around in triumph.

"WE DID IT LEO!... Leo?"

Leo did not look at him or show any indication that he'd heard Mikey at all. His gaze was riveted on Karai, blatant shock mixing with so many other emotions in an expression that was almost painful to behold.

"Lee?"

Leo's throat worked furiously, mouth opening and closing fruitlessly as words seemed to fail him. Finally, one word managed to work its way free. Small and faint, a short word nearly crushed by the weight of all it carried.

"M...Master?"

"Leonardo," Karai murmured, squeezing Mikey's shoulder before stepping forward to stand before his brother. Her hands rose to cup his cheeks, thumbs softly tracing the lower arc of his red crescent markings as she quietly studied his face.

"You've grown so tall, my little blue. You've survived, and I am so, so proud of you."

Mikey blinked hard against the threat of tears as Leo sniffed and melted into Karai's arms. Despite being the same height as the woman, his older brother seemed to shrink until his head fit neatly beneath her chin, face hidden in her shoulder as his hands came up to desperately clutch at the back of her cloak.

"I have so many questions," Karai murmured thickly, gently rocking on her feet as she cradled Leo close with one arm while reaching out to Mikey with the other. "But first, let me hold my brave boys."

[citrusai]

their yearning is intertwined, as though there were no spatial or temporal interval between them.

Summary: Inspired by my own dog-gone post about Solas watching his heart through the eyes of Rook, incapable of doing or saying anything to reach out to her. 1.7k words

Warnings: None, but it's more Solas POV obviously. Bittersweet, obviously. No grave Veilguard spoilers but read at your own peril.

A/N: As always, crossposted to ao3. Love u all.

This was not Solas’ plan. It was never his intention to bind Rook to himself, to be trapped in a prison of his own making. The bond was thin, a crumb of a thought floating through the fade, it wasn’t much to go on.

The last thing he’d heard was that Rook was intending to meet a possible ally somewhere in Minrathous. His patience was wearing thin. Had it not been for their meddling, the veil would have been torn, nature restored to balance. And perhaps, Solas could… No. He won’t dwell on that treacherous thought, on the impossible.

The Cobbled Swan is empty, save for Rook sat at a small table. The situation weighs heavy on their mind. They’d been anxious about this, more so when Morrigan and Harding had started speaking about utmost privacy, just you two, we shouldn’t be here for this.

Rook seems to be incapable of sitting still, bouncing their leg as they look around the empty pub. How curious. What kind of person would have an entire establishment shut down? They glance through the window, eyes studying the movement of people living their day to day. A sigh escapes their lips.

A cold hand creeping up behind their ear and down their neck.

“Boo.”

Rook jumps in their seat, hand clutching onto their chest. Their head swivels in the direction of the voice, and they’re even more taken aback. They bow their head in greeting.

“Inquisitor.”

A sound of a raspberry being blown. “Wrong. The inquisition’s been disbanded. It’s Gan’freya now, or Lavellan if you wish to be formal. May I?” The woman gestures towards the chair in front of Rook, and they motion for her to sit.

Gan’freya sits down, folding her arms across her chest, her gaze bears no steeliness and yet it’s not entirely kind. She studies Rook for a moment. Their face, their outfit, the way they hold themselves. Rook notices the glint of metal on her hand, a prosthetic.

“You’re not entirely what I expected.” Rook speaks.

Gan’freya has to hold back an eye roll. “I suppose you expected a saviour, someone who invited you here with words of encouragement.” Her arms slip down to rest on the armchairs. “I’m afraid I don’t have any to spare. If you think what’s going on here in the North is horrid, you have yet to see the scourge released on Southern Thedas.”

“Why ask to see me then?”

“Morrigan and Harding had asked so politely, and what with Varric hiring you on my expense, well.” Her voice trails off, eyes looking out the window. A snort escapes her mouth. “Apologies, I think we both expected something different when you went to disrupt that ritual.”

“Do you think I failed?” Rook’s mouth runs dry, knee bouncing faster and faster.

Gan’freya looks at them, and there’s a hint of pity in her eyes, it’s gone as soon as it had arrived. She reaches her hand out to clasp Rook’s. “No.” She says, voice firm. “Nobody could’ve predicted the consequences.”

There’s a warm roll of familiarity that washes over Rook, but they can’t pinpoint why. They’d heard tales of the Inquisitor, and the stories had brought comfort on the long days chasing the Evanuris and the Venatori. The very stories Varric regaled.

But this felt different. As if a foreign mind had bled into theirs, trying to reach for her through Rook. They zero in on her speaking, shrugging off the sensation. She tells them of a statuette, and in return Rook tells her of what they’ve found.

It’s a glimmer. A foggy window, but Solas knows that figure better than he knows himself these days. Surely, the prison mocks him. Every move, every plan made in his lighthouse, buried under secrecy until Rook seeks him out. But now, the fade ripples and opens itself as if arms outstretched, daring him to confront himself.

Her hair is shorter, and there are bags under her eyes. She is both how he remembers her, and more. Yes, he had watched over her in her dreams, even before the night of the ritual. But seeing her, physically seeing her, through the eyes of Rook, it makes his heart leap into his throat.

The humour in her voice, quick to deflect Rook’s questioning. Always so perceptive to what others want from her, always ready to keep them at arm’s length.

He did not want this for her. Did not want her to follow him, to resign herself to a role she never wanted to begin with.

Herald. Inquisitor. Martyr. A symbol larger than life itself.

When she reached for Rook, when her hand had touched theirs, it’s as if that warmth washed over him too. How he wished he actually did bind that fool to do his bidding, if only to feel the softness of her hand in his once more, even through a proxy body.

The image becomes clearer upon her touch. And the punishment continues. Her pained cry, from when he’d removed the orb from her arm, echoes through the fade. The very sound mocks him, as his gaze falls on her prosthetic arm. He’d saved her, had given her another chance at life, or so he told himself.

His hand reaches for her, and the view ripples in between his fingers like water. His heart hammers in his chest, as if trying to break through skin and flesh and crawl out from the fade into her arms.

The prison echoes with more cries of anguish, the hiss of words in anger, mistakes that had been made before he’d met her. Solas dares not acknowledge them, their very existence a heavy weight upon his shoulder.

So he closes his eyes. His ears tuning into her voice as if it were a guiding melody. Everything else is just noise.

Rook scratches their temple, it feels as if a fog has fallen upon their mind.

“Are you alright?” Gan’freya inquires.

She’s no mage, not well versed in anything arcane, and her brother has been no help what with his speciality being healing. But something about Rook’s behaviour feels odd.

Morrigan had sent word, updates after the ritual was disrupted, when blight had descended upon Thedas once more like a disease. Harding had urged her to meet with them, to alleviate their fears now that Varric was gone. And through Morrigans eluvian she went.

She knew of Rook, in a way. Varric had written enough letters for Gan’freya to make sense of who this person was, what they could do. Yet something about their eyes fighting not to glaze over as they scratch and prod at their temple, fingers moving towards the back of their head, makes her eyes zero in on them with an analytical gaze.

“I am. It’s just…” They place their palms on the table, as if willing their body to still. “Ever since I hit my head when we disrupted the ritual, it’s like there’s this buzzing in my head.”

Her eyes give them a once over. “A concussion, you mean?”

They shake their head. “No it’s like, like something crawling around in there, biting on my brain.”

“What like something controlling you?”

“No..” Rook trails off, eyes cast down at the table, fingers scratching on the surface. “It’s more like... Something’s watching me, or at least trying to.”

“And by someone you mean…”

“Solas.” Rook finishes. “But it’s not constant, sometimes it’s a dull throb, but right now it’s like… Like my brain is on fire, in a way.”

Gan’freya hums, eyes giving Rook a once over. She rises from the table, approaching Rook as her hand reaches for their scalp, a questioning look in her eyes.

“May I?” She asks.

Rook simply nods. Unsure of what her fingers carding through their hair might achieve. Her touch is soothing, in more ways than one. It seems she’s inspecting their wound, fingers gently prodding the scab.

“I’m not oozing, am I?” They jest.

Something between a laugh and a snort escapes her mouth. “No, no you’re fine. No oozing, no bleeding, no tentacles or horns.”

Their body stills, and they hear the rustle of a bag, and a smear of something wet on their scalp. It’s cooling, relaxing almost. They listen to her hum as she layers whatever she’s smearing over their head.

Solas wonders if smell can travel into his prison, the scent of lavender and verbena overwhelming him. He cannot feel her touch, nor feel the balm she’s generously slathering Rook in. But he remembers, remembers how she used to tend to his wounds and his scrapes, how she used to bandage him and place soft kisses upon his scars afterwards.

And now all he has is this. A memory. A faint touch that cannot reach him.

The sting of tears in his eyes, his throat closing up, fists clenched at his sides.

“You’ll be fine.” Her voice, hushed, reverberating through the fade.

A part of him hopes she knows he’s listening in, another doesn’t dare to assume this kindness is aimed towards him.

It’d be so much easier if she had come to the lighthouse. The veil is thin there, he’d have more opportunity to reach out, to engage. But he cannot, he’s resigned to being a backseat passenger.

Solas watches her pull away, a solemn expression on her face, lips downcast in a frown. He’s always hated seeing her like that. The view grows foggier as Rook begins getting up, Solas watches as Gan’freya’s hand slip the jar of the salve she rubbed on them between Rook’s palms.

“You need it more than I do. Whenever you feel an itch just… you know, smear away.”

But there’s something in her voice, a tone that’s indecipherable to Rook, but all too familiar to Solas. There’s no bite, no sadness, but there’s a lilt of knowing. Her eyes catch Rook’s gaze, but it’s as if she’s staring through them, right at Solas.

When they bid their goodbyes, the image blurs altogether. As if it were never there with him to begin with.

And when Rook comes to him in the fade, he tries his hardest to bite back the upturn of the corners of his lips as the all too familiar medicinal smell wafts into the air, paired with something far more familiar, and sweeter.

Just as Rook pretends they did not meet with her under secrecy, Solas pretends he did not watch it through their eyes, hands folded behind his back. Their conversations clipped, filled with jabs and insults. But when they leave, and Solas is alone in his prison once more, the smell remains.

And it sparks a feeling of hope in his chest.

[hottiehiei]

- Slow burn romance with Hiei PART TWO

After months of mutual attraction, Hiei will ultimately confess— out of anger.

gender neutral. sfw. fluff. angst. (also, cliff hanger bc i literally blanked)

PART 1 is not required for this, but I highly recommend reading for more fluff ! <3

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

𓆩⟡𓆪 After Hiei finally realizes he is utterly smitten, he finds himself stuck in a weird predicament. He's kind of like, "Okay, what now?"

𓆩⟡𓆪 At times, he often wonders why you aren’t intimidated by his cold demeanor. What did you see in him that others didn’t? Or rather, what did he see in you that made him so attached? Trying to put all the pieces together only made him think of you more, and he can’t seem to come up with any sensible answers. It was an insufferable cycle.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Most people would give up and accept their fate. Not Hiei. He won’t welcome these feelings with open arms. No, he’d rather fight and conquer!

𓆩⟡𓆪 But….every time you greet him with a smile or wave him goodbye, he feels content. Such an ordinary interaction would make his sour mood disappear. It didn’t matter if he remained silent in response. You were persistent, unmoved by his rudeness. Were you able to tell that he actually liked the attention? He hoped not.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei naturally gravitates towards you, oddly feeling the need to stay close. His Jagan Eye can easily keep track of your whereabouts, but he prefers close proximity. He basks in the feeling of your body heat. Dare he say it was therapeutic. With little effort, he is in tune with every part of you.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Whenever you’re engaged in conversation, he picks up little details of your daily life (another perk of staying close by). Don’t be too flattered, though. He’s still searching for something that’ll make him dislike you, even if he fails every time.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei is a wild card. Just as you begin to think he feels nothing for you, he does something unexpected. One night, you accidentally found yourself separated from the group while on a mission. It was rather chilly, and you were shivering from the harsh winds. Hiei randomly showed up beside you, tossing his cloak over your head. “I can hear your teeth chattering from miles away. Don’t you humans know how to check the weather?”

𓆩⟡𓆪 No matter how unconcerned he appears to be, Hiei is always watching out for you. With his fast reflexes, he prevents you from losing your balance before you can even stumble over your feet or bump into something. He usually grabs your forearm or sleeve to stabilize you. The physical contact sends sparks between you two, but neither of you comment on it. His hand feels strangely warm after touching you. He can’t even bring himself to tease or scold you for nearly falling.

𓆩⟡𓆪 As mentioned, Hiei can be unpredictable. The romantic pinning is stronger than ever, but he’s still annoyed by it. For someone who has never experienced love before, he is taking it pretty hard. His feelings have festered to the point of frustration, and he feels vulnerable.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei is so fed up with the back and forth that he ultimately decides to ignore you for good. Out of nowhere, he started acting like you didn’t exist. He put zero effort into holding a conversation, and sometimes, he was just plain rude, telling you to go away or walking right past you.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Kurama notices the awkward tension and tries to bring it up, but Hiei dismisses his concerns immediately. He figured that if he kept his distance, he would eventually forget about you. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. Acknowledging his feelings would make them real, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

𓆩⟡𓆪 While Hiei did all of this to protect himself, you’re left hurt by the abrupt change. He treats most people rudely, but you thought he at least tolerated you to some extent. Now, he couldn’t even be bothered to spare you a passing glance. You decided to confront him one day when you two were conveniently left alone (thank Kurama)

𓆩⟡𓆪 Initially, he was hostile, glaring at your figure. “If you truly believe there’s something between us, you’re sadly mistaken.” His words cut deep. He never spoke to you so harshly, but he sounded completely serious.

𓆩⟡𓆪 When you mentioned how much pain he caused you, it surprised him. He assumed he loved you far more than you could ever love him. But as you continued to vent, voice cracking and tears spilling, Hiei was incredibly confused. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you. He simply wanted to detach himself from you and return to his normal ways.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Witnessing your break down caused him to snap. He couldn't hold back his emotions any longer, and everything came out at once.

“You think I wanted to fall for you, a foolish human who can’t even tell when someone cares for them?”

“Your face is constantly invading my thoughts. I can’t even focus on anything else, but you’re the one crying? Ridiculous.”

“Just being away from you torments me. You couldn’t possibly understand. I’m doing this for my own sake.”

“Stop looking at me like that…”

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

extra:

Even after this intense confession, Hiei still avoids you like the plague.

[wiltkingart]

Do you have any advice on how 2 not overwork a drawing? Over-detailing my art (to the detriment of the final result) is a big weakness of mine, and ive been working on it lately, but simplifying my art is way harder than I thought itd be. I keep getting stuck in a mentality that less detail = less effort, even though all my struggling should prove that isnt true lol. & I almost always like my simpler drawings better, even though that makes me feel kinda lazy…as long as it’s fun tho, right? [1/2]

I’m asking here bc one of the things I adore about your work is how confident and striking your paintings feel. I really admire the way colors and shape language interact in your art…I always want to keep looking to see what I can find hidden in the details, but they don’t take away from the main focus of the image. How do you manage to strike that balance? [2/2] (sorry for the long question lol)

honestly this is still something i struggle with at times! but some things that have helped me are:

- identifying which parts i tend to overwork the most. for me thats faces so i have made it a conscious habit to render faces last. that way i can match my level of face rendering to the rest of the piece.

- working on all parts of the painting at once. some artists are able to work on a painting from section to section. this is not me, regardless of detail level. jumping around all over the place keeps me from focusing too hard on one section above others. i even take this one step further by working on 2+ paintings simultaneously but there is something wrong with me for this one i'll admit.

- staying zoomed out for as long i can. this goes in hand with the previous point but when you're zoomed out its easier to lay down the biggest/primary color blocks without the temptation to detail. once the main color blocks are nicely balanced its easier to pick out a few points of interest to add spots of detail to, and restrain myself to them. (easier said than done! but i try!)

- getting comfortable with backtracking / deleting overworked sections and layers. this might seem scary but this has saved my ass more times than you might think. i always save a version of my drawings before i merge everything / start rending so i can always copy over earlier sections if needed.

- cold turkey removing details from the equation for a while. i did this more from necessity than choice, because i was struggling with my health a few years back and had zero energy to sink into art for long hours. but looking on the bright side it helped me realize what details are/aren't necessary and how to build my features from big -> small. this progression of my patho art shows pretty well how i introduced details back into my work over time.

but yeah! sometimes i do still find myself creeping a little too close to overwork territory for comfort, even with all these safeguards in place. in that case i have to accept that not every piece i put out will be my 'best' and that perfection has no place in art. that's not the point of it!

simplifying forms isn't easy, the same way abstract art isn't lazy. but with all things it can be learned with enough practice. and if you decide at the end of it all that you still like drawing a lot details, it might be a matter of readjusting how / where you implement them. best of luck <3

[transhoverfish]

OK SO IM LATE BUT. MORE SUB3 NEWS!!!

so a few days ago, krafton (their publisher), apparently had this like presentation of their plans over the next like 2 years. and during that they talked a bit about sub 3!

and this obviously creates a LOT of questions. not to worry, though, because unknown worlds added on to this:

im honestly not surprised by this. iirc, when below zero released they said it would be a WHILE before the next game, and they only announced this back in like... january? now, the first game's release was in january, and bz was in may, so it's definitely possible early access with be in spring of 2025. those games did not have multiplayer aspections tho! its possible we'll wait until mid 2025, and full release will likely not be until 2026. but who knows? the first game took like ten to be fully finished!!

and honestly. THANK GOD. i can't imagine any subnautica game having BATTLE PASSES or LOOT BOXES. i would have just straight up ignored this game 😭

i do wonder what these updates will entail! "many years to come" is definitely something interesting to me, because other than bug fixes... i dont remember sub or bz getting many updates post full release. is this referring to bug fixes, or is it implying that it will be in a state of early access for much longer? are they going to just keep adding new things (like the building update for sub1) and taking fandom suggestions? very interested!!

maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but i actually,,,, dont want multiplayer. now i do like bz, and these games arent really intended to be horror games, but also bz is very noticeablely less scary than sub1. and some of it i think definitely has to do with all the extra characters and dialogue. its hard to feel isolated when you know al-an and marg are nearby. so im very happy that it's optional, bc i know i will probably enjoy single player a lot more enjoyable!!

so now... SPECULATION.

so the first thing im curious about that the development team didnt mention:

"uncover the mysteries on an entirely new alien planet"

apprently we are NOT returning to 4546b. which im kind of sad about!! ik the story is very obviously done there, but it feels weird that its going to be some other planet this time around. THERE WONT BE PEEPERS!!!! (well there could be but it would be weird if some other random planet had the exact same lifeforms)

now my next immediate thought is: is this a direct continuation of below zero? my opinion is: no. probably not.

mostly because it mentions up to four players, and robin and alan are, if you look very closely, only two people. now they COULD just create two new characters to go alongside them (my fanfic brain loves the au idea of marg and ryley 🥺) but im just going to assume that with the addition of a new planet, we're going to drop the old storylines. which means no more degasi, sunbeam, aurora, or ayou sisters. we might move away from architects/precursors altogether! (my basis on this is absolutely nothing and i could be wrong, this is 100% just theorizing)

also, i imagine that it would be difficult to keep the plot the exact same with two established characters and then two new ones, depending on how this multiplayer aspect works. if its another crash, it would be a lot easier to just have the extra players die/survive, then try to work in a balancing act of one guy playing al-an.

(also i like keeping the ending of bz vauge. if they show up again, they would have to mention what happened to the rest of the architects, and i think it's much more fun if thats a mystery!)

((also also, im gonna drop a bomb on u all for a second. i actually,,, dont like al-an. i have a deeper connection to probably every single other character in bz. i think they really fumbled al's character and story and he is so incredibly bland to me. it feels like they go nowhere with how he was responsible for the kharra outbreak because the game ends immediately after he confesses! it would be nice to give him another chance, sure, but i personally dread the idea of even more al-an. sorry everyone for this horrible news))

HERE'S A CONCEPT IMAGE

i hope they bring back some cut content creatures for this!! i noticed this new area looks VERY similar to the safe shallows, and several of the fish seem to be variations of ones we've already seen (im already seeing bladderfish and hoopfish color pallettes, and the shark resmbles some early concept art for the shadow leviathan, but with the ice worm's colors...)

will there be more land areas?? is it going to entirely underwater?? more kharra?? NO DISEASE AT ALL?? AAAAAA!!!!

[double-u-qed]

couldn't write a lot today, but here's a small preview of a scene i've been writing for the next rearview mirrors chapter!

“Five of them,” he mumbles, squinting some more. “Fifteen — no, sixteen total sources of aerial attacks. Null rays… Traveling at three — five hundred kliks per astrosecond. Starscream’s there… Not aiming for us. Shelter—“

“What does it look like I’m doin’?” Jazz snarls, irritated. But then, he pauses. “Did you really get all that from just a little look?” It wasn’t necessarily the most impressive feat, but it was when you factored in the full context of what was going on, not to mention the mech still seemed to be operating at only a fraction of his full capabilities. That also implied the Seekers were still out and about, just a little higher up than Jazz is equipped to see.

“Like it’s hard,” the Praxian says wanly, drawing the quip out. He taps a weak finger against the side of his head, the motion languid and a little lazy, his optics mirthfully shining a little brighter. “Everything’s slower to me when I compute things at the speed I do.”

“Well, could ya compute yourself a little faster? You’re heavy. Like threatening to pull my other arm out kind of heavy.”

Those yellow-white lights slide over to Jazz, impassive as the one possessing them says with mock politeness, “My apologies. Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll just get my systems to ignore their routine, precise maintenance procedures and suddenly be fully operational again. How rude of me for not doing that sooner.”

“See, you’re already halfway there, snarking back like that.”

Incredulous — that’s how the Praxian is staring at him now, exasperation practically oozing off of him, even if Jazz can’t feel his EM field at all. You would think Jazz managed to turn into a Sparkeater or something with the way he’s eyeing him with what could almost be called disgust.

“Are you always so… incorrigible?”

“Only every orn,” Jazz answers without missing a beat, completely serious.

The Praxian blinks, falling silent. He does, however, pull away from Jazz, testing his own balance and weight a bit. Calculating as always, now that he’s more himself, he takes stock of Jazz’s state.

“You won’t get very far like that.”

“Yeah.”

They stare at each other. More, then more until it’s all they’re doing. Jazz can’t exactly walk with the mech taking up some of his side of the road, so he also stops in his tracks. It’s a bad move, the tiredness he’s been trying to ignore seeping through the cracks.

Double-Zero’s optics narrow impossibly further, practically scowling now. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“A little bit,” Jazz admits, grinning now.

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey is: Chapter Six: Lonely

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

[A/N] I'm super far ahead on where I'm writing vs. where I'm uploading (more than the 7 chapter lead I started with) so I've decided occasionally I'll start uploading twice a week on Tuesday in addition to Friday when I feel like. Which might be every week, I don't know yet, but I felt like it today.

~

The initial plan had been to salvage any of their possessions that they could and search the living area for survivors and call that a good enough rescue effort. They’d already been through the hell of traveling through a large chunk of the facility, surely they could be forgiven for not wanting to do so again. But once there, it felt like a cop out. Chances of anyone still being alive in the parts of the facility where shit had really gone down weren’t great but not zero and there were still other places not hit too hard. With the military gone and the aliens no longer coming, their portals all firmly closed, rescue efforts would be less dangerous. And in hopes of keeping the military from trying to wipe knowledge of the incident off the face of the planet again – hopefully they thought they’d succeeded – they couldn’t shunt such work onto Tuefort’s emergency services.

Luckily, the living area not having been hit particularly hard meant there were a decent chunk of people willing to go on that rescue mission, had already been planning to in fact, and thus Gordon didn’t have to be a part of it. Instead he volunteered the team to bring the wounded back to Tuefort – they’d run out of health packs and such a while ago – and then bring back more fresh supplies – they’d brought some with them but, thinking they were going to do a half-assed rescue mission, it wasn’t much. Bubby groaned about the long drive but Gordon told him to suck it up. After all the chaos, violence and murder they’d partook in, they could at least try to balance it out by doing some good too. … And it would help keep Gordon occupied and not thinking about things he didn’t need to thing about. And it would give him a bit more time before he needed to decide what he was going to do next.

And so they decided to spend the night and head out in the morning. They’d have multiple cars this time too as several had been brought over from car park that had once been only a tram ride away but was now apparently a whole adventure to get to. But Gordon didn’t care because someone else had gone on it, bringing several cars back for transport. Meaning he’d get to drive this time.

One more night in the facility wouldn’t even be so bad because his old living space wasn’t nearly as trashed as he’d feared. The combined living room and kitchen area was a mess. It had been ransacked and even a little gooed, no corpses or corpse stains though which was a big win. And the bedroom seemed to have been left alone, meaning it was clean, safe, and thus good to sleep in.

Upon finally heading to it for the night, he wasn’t too surprised to find it’s where Benrey had disappeared again to. He’d made himself at home, playing Gordon’s Xbox 360 – it had been stored inside the rather sturdy TV cabinet and thus had been spared whatever violence had occurred here – seemingly uncaring about the crack in the corner of the TV’s screen or the massive goo stain on the couch next to him. The power in the remaining generators was limited so maybe he should be scolded for that but really, what else did he have to do? Lest he be recognized he needed to avoid the rest of the Black Mesa personal out there. Asking him to just sit and stare at a wall would’ve been unfair.

“Yo,” he said, not looking up from the screen as Gordon closed the door and set the deadbolt as the proper lock and doorknob was broken. “You only got three games, none of them that good. Why is that? I thought you were a gamer.”

“Work took up a lot of time so I didn’t have much time to play or keep up with which games were good or not.” Looking back he’d let work take up more of his time than he should’ve. “But at least you got something to do, right?”

“Yeah, guess so. Didn’t you say you also have a son? Josh or… something like that? Where’s he at?”

Damn, Gordon had hoped everyone forgot about that. “Uh… Joshua is technically a real person but he’s my nephew, not my son. And I haven’t seen him in person ever and haven’t talked to my sister in like… five years. She’s the one who sent me that picture… back when we still talked, obviously.”

“You lied.” How much it was a accusation versus just a statement of fact was hard to tell, especially with Benrey’s eyes still glued to the screen.

“Yeah… I lied. But look, I’d been lying about him for a while, okay? So I didn’t stop to think about lying to you guys too. Not that I had any idea we’d become…” he cut himself off before saying ‘friends’ he wasn’t ready to voice that word about Benrey yet. “I just lied out of habit and didn’t think anything was likely to ever come of it.”

“Why’d you lie about it so much?”

“Because… I wanted my coworkers to think I had more going on than just work stuff. So I made up a story about having an ex-wife and a kid. Everyone else had family and friends outside of Black Mesa and I wanted people to think I did too so they wouldn’t think I was a weird freak who only worked and occasionally played video games alone in the dark.” No way was he going to admit to how much effort he’d put into figuring out the exact story. His personal laptop, once left on the coffee table had become a casualty of the violence following the resonance cascade and thus he at least didn’t have to worry about Benrey snooping on it and finding the shitty story he’d wrote to keep his lies about his fake life in order. “It’s pathetic I know but… no one was ever supposed to know it wasn’t true.”

Benrey finally took his eyes off the screen to look up at Gordon. “That’s kinda sad, bro. You’re a real lonely boi, ain’t’cha?”

“Shut up, asshole. Lots of people are lonely, it’s normal. And there are way worse ways of handling it so you’re not allowed to tease me about it. Now, I’m going to bed. It’s much smaller than the one at the hotel so when you’re done gaming you can sleep on the couch, it’s since obtained a mystery stain though so, I guess you can…”

“I could sleep at the foot of the bed, next to your little feeties.”

“First off, my feet aren’t little, you should fucking know that. Second, there’s not enough room for that, I’m too tall. And third,ew, no, absolutely not, stay the fuck away from my feet. You can sleep on the couch or, if you would rather not because it’s gross, you can sleep next to me. Just don’t be weird about it and try not to wake me. Good night.” Before Benrey could respond, Gordon marched off to his room, closing the door firmly behind himself.

He’d didn’t lock it though because… wait, there were plenty of empty living spaces some of which had to have serviceable beds, he could’ve told Benrey to go find one of those instead of offering to share his. What the fuck was wrong with him? … They were in his old home and he’d committed to keeping Benrey around earlier so he’d defaulted mentally to this being a space they had to share. And Benrey had been being annoying and he was tired, making it hard to think.

Whatever, it was too late to easily take back now. But Benrey would probably fall asleep on the couch anyway. Either intentionally or because he stayed up too late playing video games. It’s not like he seemed to care that it was nasty. So probably Gordon’s blunder was fine.

***

Even if Benrey could entertain himself for a while playing even the worst video game, there was still a limit to how much he could bear and he was quickly reaching it. These couldn’t be the only games Gordon had though, right? If he was really a gamer he had to have more and maybe a whole other console somewhere. After turning the Xbox and TV off – if there was nothing else to play, Benrey was done with it for now – Benrey set to searching the space.

Such a small area, it didn’t take long search every inch of it. If there’d ever been any more games or another console, the headcrab zombies had got it. Or more likely someone had stolen it because the place had clearly been busted up and raided for stuff. But it was funny to imagine headcrab zombies sitting around a TV and playing something like Resident Evil or some other zombie killing game. Or perhaps when sorting through his stuff earlier, Gordon had moved the good stuff somewhere safer. Regardless, Benrey was out of luck here.

He moved on to the bedroom. To make sure his steps would be quiet – it’d be rude to wake Gordon on accident – he slipped his shoes off before phasing through the closed door. It was dark inside but adjusting his eyes a little to make them work better in the dark, he could see just fine. Gordon lay on the bed, his back against the wall. … Next to him was indeed enough room for Benrey to lie down as Gordon had invited him to.

After spending so much time phasing through so many large chunks of earth and rubble earlier, Benrey was a bit tired. Nothing major and he hadn’t been planning to sleep yet, he could easily keep going for a little while longer before he truly felt the need for a nap. But that first night in the hotel bed, when they’d lain back to back had been comfortable. Gordon was pleasantly warm. A general human trait; Benrey had been touched by them before, though not often and never in ways that were easy to enjoy the way his casual contact with Gordon had been so far. So maybe he could lie down and bask in the warmth Gordon’s body gave off while he napped for a little bit. It was pretty cold in here after all; deep underground and made of concrete meant the facility was often rather cold, especially at night without anything running to regulate the temperature.

He crept closer and before he could second guess himself, lifted the blanket and crawled underneath it. With Gordon facing him, he didn’t dare press directly into him but he did get as close as he could without actually touching him, made easier by the fact that Gordon was curled up in a ball under the blankets. Even not touching him, it was pleasantly warm so close to him where his heat sank into the softness around them. Rather nice except… he was tense, his expression scrunched up as he mumbled under his breath. Muffled by the pillow his face was partially pressed into, it hadn’t been audible by the door but certainly was when so close to him.

Another nightmare. Damn, that meant Benrey had to wake him again, huh? No basking in his warmth for Benrey. … It had been a kind of weird thing to want anyway though. Probably best to not indulge it.

With a sigh, Benrey started to sit up but stopped as Gordon, seemingly still sleeping but sensing his presence so close anyway, uncurled a little to reach for him. Like in the car, he found Benrey’s arm and pulled on it, gently enough that Benrey could’ve resisted but… curious to see what sleeping Gordon intended to do with his arm, didn’t. He pulled it to his upper chest, forcing Benrey’s wrist to bend under his chin. It… seemed to sooth him, the tightness of his curl easing a little as he quieted. Interesting. Perhaps Benrey could enjoy his warmth for a little bit after all.

He shifted a bit closer so that their bodies were touching. Gordon opened himself a little more, his lower arm moving to wrap around Benrey’s shoulder, the gun hand right next to his head, pulling him the rest of the way over so they weren’t just touching but Benrey was pressed into him. … Wow, okay.

Gordon had relaxed, his breathing deep and steady. Nightmare apparently over. Benrey was so good at this fixing nightmares thing he’d done it just by letting Gordon touch him.

Carefully, Benrey shifted a little so he could use his free hand to pull the blanket back up. Shifting a little more, putting his face against Gordon’s chest, he pulled it up and over his head, hiding himself under it. … Not that he was going to stay here the whole night and thus possibly get seen by someone else but… Gordon was so soft and warm.

Benrey had never been this close to someone before; so close he could hear the breath in Gordon’s lungs and the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was new and weird and… he liked it. So much so it seemed to simultaneously fill him with energy, making him need to do something with it, while also making the idea of lying here forever sound pleasant. He resisted the urge to do the former, pressing it down until he was just relaxed and comfortable; doing anything more than lying here quietly would be bad. But he could stay for a little bit, maybe even indeed take a nap. It’d be nice to nap in a spot so warm and cozy. He could easily be up and out before Gordon woke. No one but Benrey ever needed to know about this. … Gordon’s reaction to it might be funny though so maybe he’d stay until Gordon woke after all. Not an excuse to stay longer but to enjoy annoying Gordon.

***

A loud wretched but familiar blaring woke Gordon from a blessedly dreamless slumber. Never had he hated his alarm more. How dare it still be set? He should’ve unplugged the foul, evil thing before going to bed last night.

“Make it stop,” Benrey whined, sounding more upset than Gordon had ever heard him before as he pressed himself more into Gordon’s chest. “Why’s it so loud?”

More concerned with silencing the damn alarm than why Benrey was pressing into him, Gordon reached over him and, with the familiarity of reaching over to shut it off more times than he was proud of, unerringly smacked the snooze button. He held it long enough to make sure it turned off instead of just going to sleep to torment them in twenty minutes because fuck that.

Blessed, peaceful silence restored, Gordon relaxed with a sigh, his arm going limp around Benrey as the tension left his body too. Prior to Gordon freeing his hand to reach the alarm, he’d been all the way under the blanket, his face resting against Gordon’s chest. His arm was draped over Gordon’s side, their legs tangled together.

“Bro, why’d you set your alarm?” he asked, a slight whine still in his voice. “It’s sucks. And why’s it so horrible? You should change to… to music or something.” If he was at all bothered by their current position, he made no move to remedy it.

“I forgot to turn it off last night. Why are we cuddling?”

“Because you said I could join you and then uh… you hugged me.”

Gordon should push him away. He hadn’t agreed to cuddling, just sleeping next to each other, there was room to do that without being this close, but… that would take so much effort and he was tired. Benrey was soft against him and not particularly warm. Gordon ran pretty hot and thus during the handful of other instances in which he’d found himself cuddling someone, the heat the other person gave off was a bit much and thus had always quickly grown uncomfortable. Such wasn’t an issue with Benrey, he was just soft.

So instead of pushing him away, verbally and/or physically, Gordon moved his hand to touch his face. A bit awkward with the way Benrey lay against his chest but he did it anyway.

Benrey flinched away from him. “Whoa, hey, bro, what?”

“We’re literally cuddling, dude. How can you possibly have a problem with me touching your face?” Despite his words, Gordon did withdraw his hand. Him being the one making it weird would be awfully hypocritical… and it was rude to touch people in ways they didn’t want to be touched.

Benrey relaxed again, adjusting himself only slightly. Seems he didn’t have any more desire to move than Gordon did. “Why you wanna touch my face?”

“Uh…” How did Gordon explain he wanted to know what Benrey’s skin felt like without it sounding like he was a serial killer thinking about skinning him to make a purse or something? Probably it wasn’t possible and so no need to be honest about that. “I just want to. So can I?”

“Hmm… all right, only ‘cause you’re warm though.”

Gordon returned his hand to Benrey’s face, this time he leaned into it a little instead of flinching away. He ran his fingers down from his forehead to his cheek to slightly under his jaw; an almost caress but he was just feeling. His skin was unnaturally smooth, the texture not like human skin at all, which might’ve made it creepy except it was fairly pleasant, almost a little like running his hand over the surface of a toy slime. Which brought with it the sensation that if he were to press his fingers into it hard enough, it would deform and that was a bit creepy. It was also fairly cool, as expected given that the whole of him wasn’t giving off much, if any heat, despite how close they were. The forehead down to about where the preternatural shade over his eyes ended could even be described as cold. Outside of the danger and hectic chaos of the resonance cascade’s fallout, Gordon could finally start to appreciate how odd and interesting of a specimen he was. He might have to take a thermometer to him later. For now though, he was satisfied.

He pulled his hand away and draped his arm over him again instead. An almost hug but really, with Benrey pressed so close, where else was he supposed to put his arm? “I think you might be cold-blooded.”

“What does that mean in uh… sciencey terms? ‘Cause it means something different, right?”

Given that this wasn’t Gordon’s field of scientific expertise, he perhaps shouldn’t have drawn a conclusion based off so little evidence. But did it really matter that much? “It means your body doesn’t produce much heat.” Obviously it was more complicated than that but Gordon was way too sleepy to try to explain better.

“Is that why warm stuff feels so nice?”

“Maybe, yeah. So… I guess we can stay like this.” It was a bit of an awkward position to cuddle someone in but most of the discomfort it would cause was on Benrey’s part and he didn’t seem to mind.

“Sweet.”

“Just don’t tell anyone ‘bout this.” After the assumptions the others had made upon Gordon complaining about sharing a bed, he didn’t want to know what they’d say if they found out he’d willingly cuddled Benrey.

“’Course not. It’s uh… our little secret.”

“Good. Want me to pull the blanket back up?”

Benrey hummed an affirmative.

Gordon pulled the blanket back up to his chin, encasing Benrey in his arms under it. He then shifted, curling around Benrey a little more, entangling their legs a little tighter. Nothing weird or strange about this. The dessert got cold at night and the heaters and air conditioning had been turned off to save power so he was just helping his cold-blooded buddy keep warm. Yeah, temperature probably couldn’t harm him in any substantial way but that didn’t mean the cold wasn’t unpleasant. So this meant basically nothing other than Gordon felt bad enough for him to put up with cuddling him. He could relate to being lonely after all.

Over the next few minutes, Benrey’s breathing deepened as he went lax against Gordon again. Had he ever had anyone fall asleep so easily in his arms before? … Not that he could remember. The last time he’d even cuddled anyone had been a boyfriend he’d had in his first year of college. Cuddling had never lasted long though; too warm and they were both too busy with school work to have much time to lounge around in each other’s arms. The latter being what ended their relationship and why Gordon hadn’t been in serious relationship since, work taking the place of school once he’d got hired on at Black Mesa upon graduating.

This was nice though. When awake, Benrey was an annoying, dangerous bastard. Asleep, he was soft, cuddly, and quiet. Gordon could get used to this. He probably shouldn’t let himself sleep though. The alarm had been set to go off at 5am, way too early to be up, but the drive back to Tuefort was long, an early start would be wise. So probably he should get up in maybe an hour or two? Surely he could…

An odd rumbling sound interrupted his thoughts. He blinked opened his eyes to look around the room for its source, not that he could see much in the dark without his glasses. But as it grew stronger and louder he didn’t need to see to tell where it was coming from.

Benrey, still snuggled in his arms under the blanket. Him snoring? … No. Even if it followed the rhythm of his breathing, it was too continuous to be snoring no matter how weird an animal he was. Gordon could feel its source in Benrey’s chest and back where his arm touched. Having grown up with cats, it wasn’t the exact same sound or feel but it did have some very familiar vibes.

“Benrey, are you… purring?”

No response of course, Benrey was fast asleep. One wasn’t needed though because what else could it possibly be? Given that he wasn’t a cat, his reason for purring might be totally unrelated to why cats purred. Maybe it just meant he was in a specific stage of sleep; instead of REM, he purred. But while they were cuddling? And he’d made it very clear he liked how warm Gordon was. So maybe it was because he was comfortable and content.

Regardless of why though, it was something Gordon could tease him about it later. … Unless he didn’t find it embarrassing. But he had to, right? He liked to come off as cool and purring was far too adorable for anyone to ever find it cool. So yeah, Gordon would tease him about it later. For now though, it was soothing, pulling him back towards sleep. Maybe not a pull he should listen to but… he didn’t really have much choice in the matter.

~

Next Chapter

[divine-misfortune]

* busts through your walls with a banana gun*

You know exactly why I'm here.

Mountain fucking rain with his tail, rain is so whiny and needy and he just wants more, make it sloppy, make it gross, make it oh so wet boy Wednesday.

*pats drywall dust off your shoulders * oh and uuuhh, sorry about yur wall.

*backs away slowly disappearing into the darkness*

I write you mean mountain and what do you give me? Property damage? You cruel beast.

Also I know it's not Wednesday, I just took too long to write this.

The cool embrace of the tile against his burning skin was the only relief Rain could find like this. It was the kindest thing he could ask for, and he knew better than to try to ask for more. The fact he had even a fraction of Mountain’s attention could be considered charity. Even if he was almost entirely occupied by the book balanced on his knee, he still had Rain absolutely unraveled. 

Taking him apart wasn’t hard. Rain was haphazardly woven together. He had been since he’d blinked into consciousness that morning, wracked by a fictitious inferno in his gut. Every part of his body cried out for reprieve from the heat rippling beneath his skin. The remaining smell of honeysuckle and pine on his sheets fuel to a growing fire. Mountain’s presence lingered on the fabrics that surrounded him. Every shallow breath only served to further drink him in. 

And Rain was weak. 

He'd sought Mountain out, body trembling, tears welling, and the earth ghoul had barely looked up from his book. He'd licked his thumb and turned the page with a noncommittal sound. Mountain peered down at him when he dropped to his knees, nuzzling his face against his inner thigh as he tugged at Mountain's belt. His hands were swatted away with a sneer. 

All it had taken was one word and Rain felt his cock kick, trapped in his boxers now entirely soaked and clinging to his body. 

Clothes. 

It was all Mountain needed to say before Rain was shamefully shimmying his sweatpants down to mid thigh. Color burned in his cheeks as he had to practically peel his underwear off. So wet already. He'd fumbled over himself to position onto his hands and knees, the way he knew Mountain liked to have him and held his breath. Rain waited to hear Mountain’s book snap shut, to hear the jingle of his belt buckle being undone, but the only sound he could hear was another page being turned.

And now his arms were barely supporting him, shaking and threatening to give as the spade of Mountain’s tail dragged along his ass. The copious amount of slick leaking out of him started to drip with the motion. His tail withdrew for a moment before snapping against Rain’s thighs like a whip. It sounded sharp in his ears. Rain yelped and his elbows buckled, upper body sagging against the floor, hips arching further. 

“You’re too stupid to even undress yourself properly,” Mountain sighed, “you’re no better than an animal when you’re like this.”

A whimper bubbled out of Rain as Mountain forcibly pulled his pants the rest of the way off. He nudged at the water ghoul’s knee with the toe of his boot and Rain buried his face in his arms as he spread his legs further apart. He was fully presenting himself now, truly no better than a dog. 

The spade of Mountain’s tail returned to nudge against his waiting hole and without looking he could feel precum beginning to bead at the head of his dick. He was already clenching around nothing, still worked open from his time twisted up in the sweet musk haunting his bed. The earth ghoul clicked his tongue and Rain felt the weight of his eyes rake slowly over his body with a cold indifference. 

Feeling the tapered tip of his tail push into him punched a full body sob from Rain. It almost immediately zeroed in on the spot inside him that made his eyes go cross, rubbing mercilessly into it. Mountain’s tail couldn’t carve out a place inside of him like his cock could have but his cock also couldn’t abuse his prostate like this. 

There were spots at the edges of his vision. He would’ve moaned unabashedly if he could catch his breath enough to do so, instead left gasping out little raspy whines.

Rain felt that little bead drip from his cock and if he picked himself up off the floor, he’d have looked between his thighs. Rain didn’t need to look to know there was absolutely a small pool of his pre growing between his knees, added to by the slick spilling over his rim as Mountain’s tail digs itself further - pressure against his prostate only growing. Rain’s own lubrication dribbled out of him, down his balls, and was only an added stimulation along the length of his neglected cock. 

“Mount, Mountain, f…fuck-” His voice came out strained and reedy, trying feebly to push himself off the tile. 

Mountain didn’t let him get far. The weight of his boot, cold leather and all, settled on his back. Easily pushing his chest back to the tile with another sigh that almost seemed to trail into a growl.

“You’re too loud, it’s distracting me.” 

“But,”

“Shut up,” he dug his heel into his back in warning and Rain winced, skin burning hotter at the sudden irritation. He instinctively began to apologize but thought to clamp a hand over his mouth before the words could tumble out. 

There was a tugging feeling deep in his gut and Rain felt tears pricking in his eyes. Relief was so close, he was so close. His head fell forward against his forearm, panting through his short strained sounds. Drool trickled off his tongue. It took far too much restraint not to reduce himself to shameless begging. 

He wanted to hear Mountain’s voice, praise or degradation, anything. Mountain could have started reading his herbology book aloud and Rain wouldn’t have been able to last. 

Rain bit his cheek and screwed his eyes shut, barely stifling his pleas but introducing the taste of blood into his mouth. His balls felt heavy despite the alarmingly large puddle beneath his hips. He’d only make the mess worse when he finally came. Part of him wanted to reach for his cock, to fuck into his fist with a wild abandon, but his body wouldn’t budge. Too heavy all over, too much static between his ears. 

The sound that’s torn out of Rain is embarrassingly pitched and feminine, loud and slutty enough you could hear it across the entire west wing of the abbey. The small spots that had formed initially at the edges of his vision grew to obscure it almost entirely. His cock pulsed angrily as his orgasm crashed into him, hips stuttering forward in time as ropes of cum just seemed to keep leaking and spilling out of him. 

Mountain’s tail didn’t falter throughout the water ghoul’s climax and only seemed to slow when his spent body began to slump entirely onto the floor. He collapsed and grimaced at both the feeling of his softening dick trapped between his hips and the floor as well as the still warm pool of his own cum. 

His break in pace lasted all of a minute and Rain mewls pitifully when Mountain nudges against his prostate again. At least this time his movement started slow. 

“Hh…” Rain couldn’t even move to retreat from the stimulation causing his pleasure to bleed into something far more overwhelming. “Mountain-”

“I’m not done” the earth ghoul said, irritated, and Rain heard another page turn. “I’ve still got two more chapters. You’re not done.” 

“Can’t, c-can’t,” he whined. He could feel his pulse behind his eyes. “‘S too much,” Rain slurred. His cock was already starting to fill out again despite his protest. 

“You cum your brains out and forget how to listen, raincloud? I said I’m not done so shut up, and be grateful I’m giving you what you wanted in the first place.” 

[chalkrevelations]

So, I had to go back and watch the forehead flick and Sailom’s little admonition of “no Thai” with his wagging finger about five times before I could move on, and part of that is because the comedy was on-point, but part of it is how much weight that moment carries. It really is so very reminiscent of correcting a recalcitrant puppy, while at the same time being very casually boyish horseplay and one-up-manship, and I think those things combined do a ton of load-bearing as we start moving into the next stage of their relationship. On a meta level, the comic aspect of it breaks some of the tension we’ve been carrying around about them and the previously established tone of the relationship between them. And it also really establishes that - despite the way what’s happened between them in the past can reverberate for Sailom – he’s not afraid of Kanghan, he’ll treat him casually, he’ll take the lead, and there can be some balance of power in this relationship, despite outside power disparities. This is an interaction of equals, and both of them are fine with it.

Kanghan has all his previously established socioeconomic power, sure. But here, Sailom has a kind of institutionalized power, as the tutor in the relationship. But also, that’s only because Kanghan has allowed it, has ceded power to Sailom. All Kanghan has to do is say he doesn’t want to do this, and it would be over, and there would be zero consequences for him - and on some level, they both know that, already, even though Sailom still doesn’t really know anything about Kanghan’s dad yet. Kanghan has clearly demonstrated that he could walk away, and the only reason he’s showed up – as far as Sailom knows at this point - is because Sailom insisted, and he maybe wants to make his Grandma proud of him, he guesses, shrug. Meanwhile, sure, Kanghan dragged Sailom into unfamiliar territory with the steak-dinner date, but he also demonstrates here that he’s perfectly willing to follow Sailom into Sailom’s own territory, onto unfamiliar ground, lit. and fig. He puts himself in Sailom’s hands, he follows Sailom’s lead – explicitly, he follows Sailom’s lead, instead of bribing the bouncer to let them into the bar/restaurant. Sailom just kind of casually takes Kanghan into his own world, into his own life, to the open-air market in an area where he’s done a lot of helping people with their English, and Kanghan just. Follows him. Doesn’t even think twice about it. (Except for complaining that he’d’a dressed up if he’d known this was a date.)

Plus, he then completely humiliates himself for no real reason other than to get Sailom’s approval. Come on, do any of us really think there would be any real consequences if he performed badly on his English exam? (NO.) But Sailom has set him a task, and by god, he’s going to do it, no matter how hard it is for him. (PRAISE KINK ENGAGED.)

And my god, Kanghan. Ohhhh my godddd. Nobody’s stomped on my embarrassment squick this hard in a long time. I’m literally cringing watching you try to pick up strangers get strangers’ Instagrams. I realize part of the bit is that your English is supposed to be bad, but could you not come up with some kind of cover story here, like, “ha ha, I made a bet with my friend, who could get the most Instagram connections, he’ll owe me a beer” – something, anything so you look the slightest bit less like you’re inappropriately hitting on every single person you approach? Or at least try to talk to them a little bit, first? MY GUY. PLEASE. You do approach this whole thing with the same determination and lack of reservation you used when you pulled a gun on the goons who were beating up your boyf bullying target, so I have to give you that, I guess – once again, your feckless, reckless rich-kid confidence carries you through. Or are you just determined to do a good job for Sailom so you can continue to get praise and belly rubs? Because I think that may be a big part of it.