#he just wants to ignore it peacefully until it got to that point he didn’t want it affecting him

[dykedvonte]

I think the only real happy ending scenarios in Mouthwashing are where Anya doesn’t keep the pregnancy. Like not just not keeping the baby but not caring it to term.

In all the scenarios I’ve seen it’s always about how she regains her automy while living with what happened to her with the baby as a representation of learning to move past it but it’s cheap. She also doesn’t want the pregnancy, she says it directly right before she kills herself. Keeping it would forever tie her to him in her mind as an awful little thing that she would also have the guilt of hating. This hypothetical child would have done nothing itself to garner her hate but it is of the person she hates. The person that tried to strip her of her personhood.

I think the focus of a happy end in Mouthwashing bypasses the point there was never an easy happy way or end out of this. In a world where Curly did something, Anya still has to grapple with her pregnancy and being trapped on the ship. The rape never happened? Jimmy still would’ve inevitably lost it and tried to do something to escape any responsibility he was going back to. They were all still getting laid off despite if Curly told them or not. There is no way this ends happy or even bittersweet for most of them because of circumstances before and after we know of or are alluded to.

The question posed should really be about what would someone do to reclaim agency? To make someone understand how they feel/felt through expressing what they weren’t to before?

[malfoysprinces]

friends, best friends, friends in love

- draco malfoy -

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin Reader

Summary: Two friends in love, eventually confessing.

Warnings: Jealousy, Hiding Feelings but with a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: It’s my first time writing, feel free to give feedbacks & request.

Slytherin common room was quiet on this particular night, saved for the sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm, flickering light on the walls.

Y/N was sitting, peacefully by the fire all on her own until she heard his voice.

“Y/N”

With a look full of hesitation, she stared right into those grey eyes.

Oh, those grey eyes…

“Hey Draco!”

“What are you doing up this late?”

“Nothing, couldn’t sleep.”

“Come on, go to your dorm, don’t make me take any points from my own house.” Draco said, laughing.

“But I can’t sleep.” Y/N responded.

“My friends are such pain in the ass.”Draco whispered.

Yeah, your friend.

Y/N giggled.

Just when they were headed to stairs which led the way to their dorms, a familiar face appeared.

“Oh, hi Theo.” Y/N said to him.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, this night is never going to end does it?” Asked Draco, looking tired.

“And goodnight to you too, Draco.” said Theo.

“I’m going to the Astronomy Tower, care to join?” Theo asked to both.

“Why not?” Y/N answered, hoping Draco would come.

“As your prefect I should lead you guys to your dorms, but as your friend I could really use a calming time with you guys.” Answered Draco.

Friend. There was that word again.

“Actually, I remembered that I have Snape’s potions in the morning and I could really use some sleep.” Y/N said without knowing why she wanted to get away from them- oh actually, Draco. Poor Theo had nothing to do with it. In fact he was always nice to Y/N, he was always a gentleman.

“As you wish.” Theo said.

“Are you sure?” Draco asked to Y/N.

“Yeah” Y/N answered, forcing a yawn to make believe she is sleepy.

She headed to girls dorm without looking back.

When she entered into her dorm room, Pansy and Daphne were already sleeping.

She looked at herself in the mirror, wondering why everytime Draco called her “a friend” her heart was shattered into pieces.

Y/N was distant to Draco lately. She was avoiding him at all costs. Whenever they sit together at a class, she would always ignore him, not in an arrogant way but in an cold way. Draco -being the smartest boy Y/N has ever seen- has started to realize this. He has been sensing that Y/N was drawing herself away from him for some time now.

But Y/N was forgetting something, she was the first person for Draco to come when he was feeling down. She was the first person that Draco writes to every summer. She was practically Draco’s closest but he never addressed her anything other than friend.

To him, “Draco and she was friends, nothing more. They just hang in the same group. Y/N was a friend to Draco as much as she was to Theo or Blaise.” Y/N thought to herself.

Y/N wanted to tell Draco how she felt, how she was longing for his touch without knowing how it feels, how she needs him. But there was too much at stake. She could lose Draco forever, she could lose the bond between them forever. So she decided to keep things to herself and keep her distance from Draco.

With so much going on in her head, Y/N went to her bed and fell asleep quickly.

Next morning wasn’t any different than others. The sun was shining into girls shared dorm.

“Oh! I can’t find my tie!” shouted Pansy in a hurry.

“Just check your desk, I saw it there last night.” said Daphne.

“Found it!” Pansy shouted again.

Y/N was still half asleep when Daphne came to her side and reminded her that if she didn’t want detention from Snape, she should be up in a minute.

She got ready in a hurry, causing her to forget her potions book in her dorm.

Girls entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

“Well, well, well.. If these aren’t the princesses of Slytherin.” Blaise said in a flirty tone.

“Morning.” said Theo.

And a simple smile from Draco.

Y/N smiled to Draco back and rolled her eyes to Blaise.

“Was he always like that?” Y/N asked. “Because if he was, I should really consider my friend choices.” she said in a laughy tone.

“Oh, if you call that a flirting, you should have seen Draco last night in the Astronomy Tower.” Theo said.

Of course, they weren’t alone. Of course, Theo was going to meet up with a girl last night and Draco wanted some company, as well.

“Shut it already Theo.” said Draco.

“Who is it this time Draco?” asked Pansy.

“Yes, tell us who the lucky lady was.” added Daphne.

Y/N was holding her tears back, not only because of Draco’s new girl but also she couldn’t believe how easily Draco affected her. He goes around flirting with other girls and Y/N ends up the one being hurt. How unfair Y/N thought to herself.

Y/N had seen nothing but pure love between her parents. She was raised the best way possible. Indeed, she was a pure blood, she came from a wealthy family - why else would Draco befriend her?- and she was pretty. She could pull of any guy she wanted. Any guy but him.

She could get any guy wrapped around her finger, any guy but the one with the grey eyes.

However, it was kind of funny how she was oblivious to Draco’s feelings. She meant everything to him, he would take her in a heartbeat if she said yes. His whole world revolving around her. Draco was the one to keep his feelings bottled up, that was for sure. But still, the fact that he cares about Y/N more than any other girl was obvious.

“Y/N?” asked Pansy.

No answer.

“Y/N!!??”

“Oh, sorry.” Y/N said.

“But you missed all the fun, Draco couldn’t even remember that girl’s name.” Said Pansy.

And just seconds later, everyone burst into laughter.

“Yeah poor girl must be thinking of Draco right now, but he doesn’t even remember her name.” said Daphne, giggling.

“ For Merlin’s sake! I only flirted with her so Theo could have his time with that girl’s friend.” Draco said in a serious tone staring to Y/N.

“Good boy, aren’t you?” said Y/N in a condescending tone which made Draco angrier.

It was safe to say that Draco stared into Y/N’s soul for a time which felt like an eternity for both.

Only if he knew what Y/N would do to be the one that Draco flirted- even if it is all fake.

“So now it is a staring contest?” asked Blaise laughing.

“No. And I dont even have the time for your - and I mean ALL of you- stupid crushes.” Y/N said.

“What? What crush are you talking about?” asked Draco.

“Shit! I must have left my potions book in my dorm” Y/N said. She was headed for dorm room.

Not long after, Y/N was pulled into an empty classroom.

“WHA-“ Y/N’s shout was interrupted.

“What is wrong with you?” asked Draco.

“I don’t know what you are talking abo-“ she was interrupted again.

“Oh, cut the bullshit already! You ditch on me and Theo last night and you have been off all morning?” asked Draco.

“I- erm- I am really worried about Snape’s class you know?” she lied.

“So this is what it’s all about.” said Draco. “I thought you were mad at me or something.” he added.

“You have been distant lately. It’s like one minute you are the center of the conversation, and you are gone in the next.” Draco said, worried.

“Told you, I have been struggling with potions.”

That was the best I could come up with? She thought to herself. I must be a disgrace to the house of Slytherin.

“I will help you, okay? Meet me in the library after dinner.” said Draco.

“No- I mean you dont have to.” she said.

“No, I need to fix whats bothering my best friend.” Draco winked.

Your WHAT? Now, we are best friends. If there is something worse than being friends with him existed then it would totally be being best friends with him.

“Come on, we need to get to class.” Added Draco.

Potions was boring for Y/N. Until Snape assigned the homework. A homework which was needed to be done with partners.

“I will assign your partners this time.” said Snape.

“Miss Granger, you are with Mr Longbottom.”

“Miss Y/L/N, you are with…..

“Mr Malfoy” Y/N prayed.

“Mr. Potter.” Snape said.

The anger in Draco’s eyes was visible, if not, it was felt by every single person in class. However, no one dared to state the obvious.

“Oh shit. Now it is getting interesting.” Blaise said to Theo.

“Yeah, just wait till the class is over and Draco starts whining about it.” said Theo.

As Harry walked closer to Y/N, Draco was already watching them.

Y/N and Harry greeted and started to talk about the project.

Whenever Y/N looked to Draco, he was already watching her.

But this time something was different. Draco’s eyes was not filled with the warmth that Y/N was used to see, instead it was filled with something she couldn’t name.

It was jealousy. So much jealousy that he could explode any minute now.

Slytherin group was already gone when Y/N and Potter realized that the class is over. As a matter of fact, everyone was gone and they were alone in the classroom.

“I must have lost the track of time.” said Y/N to Potter.

“Yeah. Seems we both did.” he agreed.

They rushed to outside.

“If Potter is that interesting, you can always go be his friend.” said Draco to Y/N. He has been standing outside the classroom waiting for Y/N, this whole time.

“What? We were just talking about the project.” said Y/N.

“Yeah? That must be the reason you couldn’t care to join your friends when leaving the class.” Draco said, angrily.

“Oh, possesiveness is a trait of yours, isn’t it?” Y/N asked mocking.

“Potter is my red line. Do. Not. Cross. It.” Draco said in the most serious tone possible, grabbing Y/N’s wrist.

“Too bad, he. İs my. Partner” Y/N said jokingly.

Little did they both knew, they had already crossed the red line in each other’s hearts.

“So, why do I even need to mix these things?”

“Like what on earth am I going to need these potion for?” Y/N asks, pretending to be oblivious to keep her lie going.

“Just try to memorize the ingredients and you will be okay.” Draco assured.

“Okay.” said knowing everything Draco has been telling her since the minute one.

“By the way, I really don’t understand why you stress over potions. You are the smartest witch I know.” said Draco lifting his eyebrows.

“I don’t know, it is not the class that stresses me, it is the professor. Snape is tense, you know?” Y/N shouted another lie.

“What? He is practically one of your father’s best friends. They’ve known each other since they were what? Like 11?” Draco asked.

“Yeah but still, he was always so intimidating.” Was Y/N’s answer.

“Truth to be told, I am his favourite, but you are not so bad yourself.” He said laughing.

“Well, I know he likes us, he is better to us than others.” Y/N said agrreing.

“See? He’s not so bad after all.” Draco said.

Rest of their study session went on as a chat session. Things was always so easy and calming between Y/N and Draco.

“Merlin, I missed talking to you about anything-“ Draco was interrupted by Y/N “Let’s leave, I have to check Gullygum.” Said Y/N, Anything to avoid this confrontation she thought.

“Gullygum? As your cat?”

“Yeah Draco, how many other Gullygums do you know of?” teased Y/N as she was packing her things.

The night was calm. As they were headed to Slytherin common room together the only sound which can be heard was their footsteps. As they pass by the torches lining the walls, the flickering light casts shadows that seem to dance across their faces. The sound of Draco’s breathing and the rustle of Y/N’s clothing as they walk creates a gentle white noise, as if the whole world has fallen away and it's just the two of them.

“So.” Draco said breaking the silence.

“Now tell me, why have you been so distant lately. And don’t ever think about lying to me because it is obvious you have no problem with classes.” Draco asked.

“Oh for fucks sake Draco, everything is fine. Friends don’t push each other like that.” Y/N stated, emphasizing the word friends.

“Yeah, friends.” whispered to himself Draco. But Y/N didn’t hear a thing for she was so tired with Draco pushing her to confess.

As the first beams of sunlight filtered through the small windows of the Slytherin dungeons, the house's green and silver shades appeared to come to life.

“Wake up! Today’s the day!” Daphne shouted to Pansy and Y/N.

“What day?” Y/N asked, half asleep.

“Are you serious? You forgot about it?” Pansy asked her.

“About what?”

“About the PARTY YOU SILLY!” Daphne shouted.

Oh, shoot. It’s today! The party which was organized by Daphne and Pansy, the party they couldn’t stop talking about.

The girls were already headed to Great Hall when Y/N was done dressing up.

As usual, the boys of Slytherin was waiting for their princesses at the table.

Pansy and Daphne wouldn’t stop talking about the party, how they have been planning this for weeks if not months.

In the middle of their conversation, an owl dropped a box to Y/N. The box had a letter.

You deserve the world. We love & miss you.

Mom & Dad.

And the letter made Y/N realize how homesick she was. She loved Hogwarts, she loved her friends and she loved her Draco but something about her parent’s letter made her miss her home. Maybe it was how the words they use reminded Mr and Mrs. Y/L/N’s relationship to their daughter. They had something Y/N admired. One day she dreams of having with Draco.

“Will you open it already?” said Blaise.

“Oh, let me just-“ she was interrupted by Pansy.

“OH. MY. GOD.” shouted Pansy.

“THAT MUST HAVE COST A FORTUNE.” said Daphne in a shock.

“This is so nice.” Said Draco.

“Aww, thank you guys. I must write them back as soon as I can.” Said Y/N heading towards the exit of the Great Hall.

“I envy how your father cares about you. I guess it is different when you are a girl.” Says a familiar voice.

“OH- You scared me.” Said Y/N shaking.

“Just cool darling.” Said Draco.

“I got this memory of us kids in my head. When we both fell of our broomsticks how your father ran towards you and mine just mocked me.” Said Draco.

“Oh, Dray, I’m sure you are remembering wrong.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, maybe.” Draco said.

The rest of the day went on as usual, the classes and stuff. In the evening there was a rush in girls dorm. Y/N had already picked her dress and she was getting ready for the party when she heard a knock on the door.

“Do you think you can help me with my tie- WHOA.. You look..erm- pretty.” Said Draco. “Heavenly” he whispered to himself.

“Oh, thank you. Yes I sure can.” Y/N said leaning towards him.

There was an undeniable tension and chemistry between them. Their lips were just inches apart. Draco’s grey eyes were fixated on Y/N’s eyes. The more they stay this close, the more Y/N’s hand shook. This was the closeness they were both longing for. It was almost like Draco didn’t want to let her go. Almost.

“So, I was thinking that we can go to party together since I am already here.” Said Draco.

“Yeah, yeah let me just grab my purse.” Y/N agreed.

The Slytherin common room was transformed into a grand party hall, decorated with green and silver banners, glittering streamers, and shining orbs that floated above the dance floor. The room was alive with the sound of music, laughter, and clinking of glasses, as the students of Slytherin danced and chatted, all in their finest clothes. The grand staircase leading to the upper levels of the castle provided the perfect stage for the hosts to make their grand entrance, clad in their finest robes and basking in the admiration of their guests. It was a Slytherin party atmosphere unlike any other, full of luxury, power, and excitement.

Draco instinctively put his hand on Y/N’s back, like he wanted to show everyone who she belonged to. Y/N was shivering for she was longing Draco’s touch for some time now.

Not so long after, a group of Slytherins decided to play the game of spin the bottle. Y/N and Draco were among the group, both secretly hoping the bottle would point to each other.

As the game progressed, the bottle spun round and round, landing on various members of the group. Finally, it was Y/N’s turn. The bottle spun and spun, seeming to take forever to come to a stop. When it finally did, it was pointed towards Cedric Diggory, who grinned eagerly.

Without a second thought, Cedric leaned in for a kiss. Y/N closed her eyes, allowing the kiss to happen.

Draco, who had been watching the entire thing with a scowl, could feel his anger about to boil over. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about Y/N , but he did, and seeing her kiss someone else fueled a fire deep within him.

“My turn.” said Blaise eagerly.

“I am going to call it a night.” said Draco not even glancing a side eye to Y/N.

Guilt was growing inside Y/N’s heart. But she didn’t have any choice. It was all a game after all.

Rest of the party was a usual Slytherin party. With the shock of Draco leaving the party so early, Y/N decided to call it a night, as well.

Next morning, Y/N wanted to see if Draco is doing okay. So before heading to Great Hall for breakfast she decided to stop by Draco’s dorm.

As she knocked on the door, a girl she didn't recognize opened the door of Draco's room.

“Hello?” She asked

“Who is it?” Draco shouted.

“Um-I wanted to-um…” Y/N was stunned. For a moment, she thought she can actually heart the breaking noise of her heart.

Draco came to the door and when he saw Y/N standing, he was frozen. It was clear that he spent the night with this girl.

“We can talk later.” Said Y/n, heartbroken, and jealous at the same time.

She was holding her tears back while walking to Great Hall. Not angry but heartbroken.

Just when she sat to breakfast, she felt a familiar voice approaching.

“Hey, Y/N.” said Cedric.

“Hi Cedric.” said Y/N.

“Is not that the guy she kisses last night?” asked Blaise.

Daphne nodded.

“Can I talk to you in private?” Cedric asked.

“Sure.”

They were headed to the exit of the Great Hall when Y/N felt Draco’s eyes on her when he was walking by.

“So, what is it that you want to ask?” Y/N said.

“I know this might sound ridicolus but I can’t stop thinking about our kiss last night. I was wondering if you would like yo go on a date with me?” “If you would give us the chance to get to know each other better.” Asked Cedric, hesitation can be seen from all over his face.

With the jealousy and broken heart, Y/N didn’t even think for a moment.

“ Yes Cedric.” she smiled.

“Oh, I’m happy now. I will pick you up after dinner tomorrow, so we can go for a drink at Hogsmeade?”

“Sounds like the perfect date.” nodded Y/N.

It clearly was an impulsive decision. It. Clearly. Was. Cedric didn’t even catch Y/N’s attention for once. Except last night, when she had to kiss him. She didn’t had the choice unlike Draco. Draco had the choice to not drag a girl to his dorm.

“What did he want?” Asked Pansy.

“A date.” Y/N answered.

“ A DATE?” Pansy shouted. “Not a chance” she added.

“Actually, I-“ Y/N was imterrupted.

“ Oh no you didn’t” Pansy said.

“ Sure as hell, I did.” Y/N said walking to class.

The next day went on as quickly. Y/N was getting ready for her date when it crossed her mind that she hadn’t seen Draco over a day. For them, it was a record. They were practically inseperable. Not so long ago, at least.

Y/N was headed to Great Hall to meet Cedric when she looked up and saw Draco, Theo and Pansy was sitting by the fireplace just chatting casually.

“Ready for you date?” Pansy asked which caused Draco to look at Y/N angrily.

“What date?” Theo responded.

“Oh, didn’t you hear, she is going on a date with Diggory,” Pansy answered.

“Lucky man got to steal our girl, didn’t he Draco?” Said theo.

Draco didn’t respond, he just nodded. As far as anyone can see, he was devastated.

As Y/N got back from her date, it was already pass midnight. The castle was so quiet as she walked to the dungeons of Slytherin. Y/N opened the door to the common room, only to find out Draco sitting where she left him hours ago.

The fireplace crackling sound in the midnight echoes throughout the empty Slytherin common room, adding an eerie quality to the scene. The pops and crackles of the fire seem to reverberate off the walls, creating an almost hypnotic rhythm that feels both calming and unsettling.

Did he waited for her to get back from her date?

As he waits, he stares into the flames, lost in thought. The sound of the fire is the only thing that breaks the silence of the room, and it's as if the fire is the only company he has.

The sound of the fire crackling is also a reminder of the late hour, creating a sense of intimacy and secrecy that seems fitting for the moment.

As Draco waits for you to return, the sound of the fire crackling grows softer and more gentle. It's as if the fire is signaling that something new is about to happen, that a new chapter is about to begin.

“I know I messed up.” said Draco in a rather sad voice.

“I know it should have been me who took you on this date.” he added.

The sound of the fire becomes louder and more chaotic, mirroring the rush of feelings that Y/N is experiencing. It crackles and pops, adding a layer of intensity to the moment. The flames seem to grow brighter, casting an orange glow across the room and making everything feel more dramatic.

Despite the chaos of the fire, Draco's words are clear and heartfelt.

“I know it should have been me who gets to call you his girlfriend.” he finally looked up to Y/N who was in a total shock.

“Draco” she whispered.

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.” he whispered. “I have always loved you and only you.”

“And I love you Draco Malfoy.” she added. “I have always waited for you and only you.”

[gardenofnoah]

I would have killed a part of me to have you

part 1

note: this is a new series I'm playing with! no idea how it'll end up so. lock in ig

wc: 1k. tags: bkg x reader, fantasy/royal au, childhood friends to lovers (this is not the main focus though), king bkg/servant reader, immortal reader, infertility (because of the immortal thing)

Bakugou Katsuki is awarded the privilege of consistency—of waking up and knowing the natural progression of each day of his life. There will never be a surprise. He will live only to grow old—to be dotted on and made fat by adoration and excess and to die in much of the same way, after having fulfilled his duty to secure the continuation of his blood line. While his life is only a means to an end, he will come to know his reward with such handsome familiarity that he will forget there is no meaning in any of it. This ignorance, this nothingness, is his birthright.

It was, anyway.

It was unfortunate, the oversight that brought you into his life. Whether it was a rushed signature or a lazy finger point that pulled you from your own life and dropped you into his could never be known, but it’s for the fact that you were dropped at his feet that shattered any real hope for his life as it should’ve been.

And it was innocent, of course. Two fledglings figuring out which way to flap the wings to get tiny bodies up off the ground. There was quite a bit of fumbling and squawking and just as much horseplay that earned the pair an endeared eye roll from whatever handmaid had caught them that day. Bakugou was your friend—your first and only. And you got away with this friendship until you didn’t.

You were brought here to serve Bakugou and his future heir. You lived in blissful ignorance of this cruel fact until your twentieth birthday—it was then that you were reprimanded swiftly and harshly for years of childish behavior and reminded of your purpose here. You were reminded that you were created to bend to Bakugou’s every whim—there was no place for friendship in servitude.

And how cruelly that information came to both of them—to Bakugou, who thought he’d finally been given an opportunity to have someone witness his own humanity. To you, who thought you’d finally been given a safe person.

But there’s no stopping a notion once it’s been started and unfortunately for parliament, that silly childhood friendship had snowballed into something truly monstrous in the eyes of the crown.

The two of you loved each other.

It was easy enough to keep up a charade. Bakugou had a surprisingly good poker face and no one bothered to look at yours long enough to see what was written all over it. No one noticed every tiny brush of his thumb over the pulse in your wrist as he left a room, just like no one saw you creep into his chambers late in the night—the same way you’d creep out in the early hours of the morning. For ten years, this worked. Bakugou’s father passed as peacefully as any patriarch could have, and his succession meant that Bakugou was let off his leash, if only minutely. For ten years, you could keep your heart as intact as it could be. But on his thirtieth birthday, something changed.

Parliament was unhappy that Bakugou had not yet married. The crown needed an heir.

Between the two of you, Bakugou was firm in his decision that he’d bring no child into the world if it was not yours—even at thirty he was still so naive to how little say he had in his own life. He would create an heir—parliament made it clear that they would have one by any means. He could kick and scream all he wanted.

But there was, of course, the matter of the other thing.

You would never have children.

The only secret you'd ever kept from him—it was not so much as your hips proved baren that they were deprived of all means of making life altogether. Ten years and a day ago, maybe. But not now.

When you turned twenty, you were let in on another royal secret—it was no small coincidence that you were pulled from the squalor of your old life. Poor as you were, evidently you'd been rich in something else—your genetics. Something in your blood they knew to be optimal for continuing the royal line. Truthfully it'd been a godsent that they'd given you until your twentieth birthday. It was only because they'd needed time to discover the cure.

To time, to death, to life—whatever you called it, it stopped your heart and froze you in time. But something went wrong, and everything stopped. As did the flow of blood from between your legs every month.

You allowed parliament to believe the cure had worked, and you never said a word to Bakugou.

Not until now.

If you had a heartbeat, it'd be in your ears by now, as you raise a knuckle to tap softly on the thick oak of his bedroom door. Two taps, a pause, and then another. The same sequence you've done for the last twenty odd years. You find it strange that at thirty, you still feel like a child.

No sooner do you feel the reverberation of the final tap does the door swing open, giving way to the same broad chest you've been yanked into for the entirety of your life. You feel some grief in knowing that there will be an end to it, someday.

"And here I thought y'finally found y'r way out of my castle."

He holds you close—speaks his words softly and without any malice into your hair as he shuts the door behind you.

"Never, my lord," you tell him, and there is a truth in it that he will never know, "not ever."

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 3.08

“We’re not leaving.”

“We can’t stay here.”

Glenn shakes his head. “If Rick says we aren’t running, then we aren’t running.”

You readjust your arms slightly so Judith is in a better position as she feeds from the bottle. Since the governor's attack, there has been a contentious debate within your group about what to do next, adding to the growing tension. You personally wanted to leave, but without everyone's agreement, it would be impossible to do so. The best thing for your group to do was wait until the middle of the night, turn all the lights off, and try to sneak out, but there was no point in sharing that idea since it was probably too late.

“No, it's better to live like rats.”

You scoff at Merle, who was locked in one of the cells. He was a rat. Rick clicks his tongue. You ask, “You got a better idea?”

“Yeah, we should have slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn’t we? I’m sure he’s got scouts on every road out of this place by now.”

“We ain’t scared of that prick,” Daryl grunts. It was hard to take his rough exterior seriously as he walked up and down the cell block so Jace, who was sleeping peacefully in his arms, wouldn’t wake.

“Y’all should be. That truck through the fence was him just ringing the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he’s got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place, shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to.”

Maggie glares at him, “Let’s put him in another cell block.”

Daryl shakes his head. “No, he’s got a point.”

“This is all you; you started this!” Maggie yells at Merle.

Another argument starts with whether the group should stay or leave. Your brother turns and goes to leave the cellblock, and you step in front of him. The look shared between you is a silent exchange of the unspoken burden you both carried. What happened to you, Woodbury, triggered something inside Rick. “We can’t ignore this; the governor will come back for us, and we need to be ready.”

When your brother starts to walk by you, Hershel furiously yells at him, “Get back here!”

Rick freezes on the spot.

“You’re slipping, Rick. We’ve all seen it, and we understand why, but now is not the time. You once said this isn’t a democracy. Now you have to own up to that. I put my family’s life in your hands, so get your head clear and do something.”

—

Daryl comes into your cell while you’re sitting on the floor reading to Jace. He sits down on the edge of the bed. His legs brush against yours as he stretches his limbs out.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you say, taking Jace off your lap to let him crawl. “I haven’t had the chance to say it yet, but thank you for showing up when you did and saving my brother. I’m glad you’re back.”

He says nothing and picks at the dirt underneath his nails.

Something about his actions pulls at a memory—something you’d kept locked deep inside your brain for so long you almost forgot. Your lower lip trembles slightly as you remember Shane kneeling in front of you, begging you to say something as you chip the green polish off your nails.

“What’s going on between you and Glenn?”

You pause before answering, “nothing.”

Daryl glances down at you; he knows you’re lying. There was friction in your friendship with Glenn again; not only had he brought up Shane trying to kill to prove a point, he tried to convince your brother and Hershel to hand Merle over to the governor, despite what it would do to his brother. The irony was that Glenn was one of the kindest and softest people you knew, but the trauma he suffered was causing him to lash out.

“Pfft, fine, don’t tell me.”

You swat at Daryl’s leg playfully, saying, “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Fine,” he said huffily. You knew things were hard for him with everyone in his ear bitching about Merle. “Why’s the kid running around collecting poles? Or is that another secret?”

“Stop teasing,” you laugh.

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Seriously though, Carl is hellbent on finding everything on the scavenger hunt you sent him on.”

“I wanted to keep him busy and made him a list. Beth offered to go with him and make sure he doesn’t stray into a cellblock we haven’t cleared yet. I’m going to sharpen down the poles he brings back, and once nightfall comes, start picking off the walkers. The last thing we need is the fence coming down and then swarming in again.”

“Is this your idea or Rick’s?”

“Mine.”

Daryl looks down when Jace hits his leg with a toy. He leans over and picks him up. “Your mom really is some kind of zombie-fighting wonder woman, huh?”

You smile while watching how gentle he is with Jace for a few moments until the sound of someone running catches your attention. Out of breath, Carl holds onto the doorframe and says, “You need to come now.”

Alarmed, you get to your feet. “Carl, what’s wrong?”

“Andrea is outside.”

Holy shit.

This could be bad. “Was she alone?”

He nods. “I think so.”

Daryl places Jace onto the floor and rushes by you to get his arrows. “Whatever happens, y/n, guard the block. Anybody comes in here that you don’t know, light their asses up.”

Carl leaves right after. You step out of the cell and see a frightened-looking Beth holding Judith in her arms and Hershel. Your stomach turns; a teenage girl and a cripple would be no match for the governor’s men. “Take them and go into the cell right up the back; I’ll cover the door into the block. If anybody gets by, shoot them.”

Beth nods and does as you ask. It was hard to know if Andrea was a threat or not; she could have easily been manipulated or could have turned on your people for the governor.

Hershel pats your shoulder and says, “I’ll go with Bethy. I doubt anybody will get past... but if they do, I won’t let them near Jace and Judith.”

You let out a shaky breath, nervous for what was to come next. “Thank you; lock the door behind me.”

—

Sitting on the table in- front of the doorway, you tap your fingers against your thigh rhythmically with the others to return. You could hear footsteps and voices getting closer by, but the seconds seemed to drag on.

Rick met your eye as he opened the gate leading into your cellblock. You knew from the first look that he didn’t trust Andrea. You knock on the table and say, “Hershel, it’s safe.”

The older man unlocks the gate and joins the rest of you. Andrea lets out a loud gasp and claps at her mouth when she notices his missing leg. “Hershel, oh god.” She steps out of her embrace with Carol and glances around the room. “I can’t believe this. Where’s Shane?”

“He didn’t make it.”

“Oh, y/n, I'm so sorry.” She looks up at your brother and says, “And Lori?”

A lump forms in your throat, preventing you from answering for him. When Rick’s eyes become glossy, Hershel says, “She had a girl. Lori didn’t survive.”

“Neither did T-dog,” Carol adds.

“I’m so sorry.” She looks genuinely taken aback by the news of so many deaths. “Carl… Rick. Shane… I just, how did he die?”

You and Daryl exchange a look. In a gruff voice, he says, “The last thing any of us needs is to relive those moments at a time like this.”

Understanding, the blonde nods her head before changing the subject. “You all live here?”

At first, nobody says anything, then Glenn finally answers, “Here and the cell block.”

“There?” She points in the direction of the area you slept in. “Well, can I go in?”

Rick steps in front of her and says, “I won’t allow that.”

“I’m not an enemy, Rick.”

“Your boyfriend tore through our fences yesterday with a truck full of walkers and shot us up. And the vicious bastards he brought with him had Carl and Beth pinned down outside. They were trying to kill a couple of kids.”

Her eyes are filled with denial. “He said you fired first.”

“Well, he’s lying,” Rick deadpans.

In a softer tone, Hershel says, “He killed an inmate who survived in here.”

“We liked him. He was one of us.”

“I didn’t know anything about that. As soon as I found out, I came. I didn’t even know you were in Woodbury until after the shoot-out.” Andrea was borderline defensive in her tone, and it was clear she wasn’t ready to hear what really happened.

“That was days ago.”

“As I said, I came as soon as I heard,” she says, spinning around to face Michonne. “What have you told them?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t get it. I left Atlanta with you people, and now I’m the odd man out.”

“He almost killed Michonne. He tortured me and y/n, and he was going to kill us,” Glenn clarifies.

“With his finger on the triggers,” she points at Merle. “Isn’t he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?”

Your tongue pokes at the gap in your mouth, feeling for the tooth Merle knocked out.

She lets out a deep sigh. “I cannot excuse or explain what Philip has done. But I’m here, trying to bring us together. We have to work this out.”

“There’s nothing to work out; we’re going to kill him,” Rick says bluntly. “I don’t know how or when, but we will.”

She looks at him, horrified. “We can settle this. There is room at Woodbury for all of you.”

“Did your boyfriend tell you this?”

“No.”

Shaking your head, you stand up and ask, “Then why did you come here?”

“Because he’s gearing up for war. The people are terrified; they see you as killers. They’re training to attack.”

“I’ll tell you what. Next time you see Philip, you tell him I’m going to take his other eye.”

Andrea crinkles her nose at Daryl’s comment and looks back at your brother. “Rick, if you don’t sit down and try and work this out, I don’t know what’s going to happen. He has a whole town looking at you; you’ve lost so much already. You can’t stand alone anymore.”

“Unless you’re planning on helping us get inside and bring us to him, I’ve heard enough.”

—

While sewing two thin blankets together to make them thicker, you think about Andrea defending the governor and how she couldn’t explain or excuse the things he did. Is that how you sounded when talking about Shane? Shane had done a lot of bad things over the years, but you always tried to defend him. But he was nothing like the man who was trying to slaughter you all like animals for sport.

Your ears perk up when you hear a baby fussing. It wasn’t Jace because he was sleeping, so it must have been your niece. You peek your head out of the cell and see Carol placing the newborn into Andrea’s arms.

“Oh, look at you. Let me guess, Daryl named her ‘ass-kicker. That’s not her real name.”

“Judith.”

“Judith,” she repeats. “Hi, Judith, how precious are you?”

You weren’t sure why, but something about their interaction left you feeling uneasy. It was most likely a protective instinct to keep your family close and safe. You didn’t think Andrea was a real threat to Judith personally, but the blonde couldn’t be trusted.

“What happened to Lori?”

“During a C-section, Maggie and y/n…” The sadness in Carol's voice hurts to hear. It couldn’t have been easy for her to be around children after losing her own daughter not so long ago. “Carl had to-”

“Oh, my god.”

“T-dog died, leading me to safety.”

Andrea’s eyes gloss over. “And Shane?”

“Rick killed him. That night we left the farm, and the whole Randall thing was a lie. Shane tried to kill Rick.”

Your stomach drops. No, no, no. You wanted to scream that they were wrong and that Rick did nothing wrong. Your mother used to tell you that love calls for sacrifice, and losing Shane to keep your brother was exactly that. Salty tears roll down your cheeks. You were terrified that night would never leave you. It would never end.

“But Shane loved Rick.”

“And Shane loved Lori,” Carol said. “I feel bad for y/n. First, her fiancé cheats on her, then tries to kill her brother. Some people just have a string of bad luck.”

“Oh,” Andrea pauses before saying, “Ricks become cold. Unsteady.”

Your tears of sorrow and guilt quickly turn to hurt and anger. Something about her word choice triggered you. Hearing enough, you wipe your eyes before stepping out of the cell, making your presence known. You hold out your arms and say, “Give her to me.”

When the blonde hands your Judith, you smile at your niece and kiss her forehead. Maybe you were overreacting, but bad mouthing a man while holding his daughter was in bad taste.

Andrea lets out an exasperated sigh. “Y/n.”

“Unsteady? When I refused to tell your boyfriend our location, he forced me to strip my clothes off and had one of his goons cut me in the leg so I couldn’t run. He put bags over our heads and made me and Glenn kneel on the ground. If my ‘unsteady’ brother hadn’t turned up, they would have put bullets through our heads.”

“I’m sorry.”

You look at Carol and say, “You’ve never told us what happened before.”

“You should know better than to gossip with someone on the opposite team.”

“Andrea,” Rick suddenly calls up from the ground floor. “I think you’ve over stayed your welcome.”

—

Everyone had gone outside except for Beth, who stayed to watch over the babies while you attempted to wash some of the group's clothes while the rest saw Andrea off.

With the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you, you try your best to focus on the task at hand. What happened to you in Woodbury, hearing Carol's pity hurt. Andrea choosing to go back to the governor hurt.

Beth notices your red eyes and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“It's nothing,” you lie, trying to brush off her question. “Really, I’m fine.”

She sees right through you. Beth places the box of formula down, runs around from the other side of the table, and hugs you from behind. Using the back of your hand, you muffle a sob.

Everything still hurt, but it felt good to let some pent-up emotions out.

—

In a low voice, you motion to Beth, who is singing, “You have a good girl there, Hershel; she has a heart of gold.”

He smiles proudly.

Standing between Hershel and Daryl, you move over slightly when your brother comes to join, and your arm presses against Daryl’s. The contact was minimal, but just the feeling of his warmth seems to slow your rapid heartbeat.

In a quiet voice, Daryl says, “Some reunion, huh?”

“She’s in a jam.”

“We all are,” Hershel sighs. “Andrea’s persuasive. This fella’s armed to the teeth, bent on destruction.”

You look across at your brother and ask, “So, what are we going to do?”

“We match it. I’m going on a run tomorrow.”

“One of us should go with you.”

Rick offers you a small smile. “I’ll take Michonne. And Carl, he’s ready. You three hold it down here.”

“Got it.”

[cyren-myadd]

Can we get a story with spider and one of the recoms getting into a prank war until Quaritch has enough and has to use his dad voice to tell them to cut it out

Great prompt anon!

3k words 🚨TW: foul language🚨

It was taco day in the cafeteria. Quaritch wasn’t really a fan of tacos, but his squad was back in Bridgehead for the day and they needed fuel. Besides, Quaritch had a headache coming on in anticipation of the mind-numbing meeting he had to attend with Ardmore after lunch, so he didn’t have the energy to find any other type of food. So, tacos it was.

Quaritch grabbed a recom-sized plate for himself as well as a human-sized one for Spider, before tromping back to the human-sized table his squad had commandeered. They looked a little ridiculous, squatting on the table which looked like it was meant for children next to them. Despite being the right size to sit in the seats, Spider opted to sit on top of the table with the others. When Quaritch set the tray of food down in front of Spider, he eyed it warily. Spider had grown up in the jungle, presumably eating a mix of whatever the natives ate and dehydrated MREs left behind by the RDA. For all Quaritch knew, Spider didn’t even know what a taco was.

His suspicion was confirmed a few minutes later when Spider asked, “what the hell is that?”

“It’s a taco.” Quaritch replied tiredly. He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off the impending headache.

“I know what a taco is!” Spider said indignantly. “I don’t know what that is,” he clarified, pointing to a serving of sour cream set on the side of his tray.

“Oh,” Quaritch hummed in understanding. Last time he checked, there weren’t lots of places to find sour cream out in the jungle, so it made sense Spider wouldn’t recognize it. “That right there is—”

“It’s ice cream!” Wainfleet jumped in before he could finish his sentence.

“Really?” Spider’s eyes lit up. He didn’t know what sour cream was, but somehow, he knew about ice cream. Go figure.

Even perched atop the table with the rest of the recoms, Spider’s eyeline was so low that the exasperated look Quaritch shot Wainfleet literally went over his head. Wainfleet just gave his commanding officer a shit-eating grin in response. Today was the first day since Spider had “joined the team” that Spider hadn’t cussed someone out or thrown a fit about something. It looked like Wainfleet was determined to keep the streak going.

“Oh yeah, buddy, tacos and ice cream is everybody’s favorite lunch back on earth. Go ahead and try some!” Wainfleet encouraged, barely holding back a laugh. The other recoms glanced over at his words, their lips twitching in amusement at Spider’s ignorance.

Before Quaritch could decide whether or not to intervene, Spider took a huge bite of pure sour cream. His eyes bugged out wide as he gagged on the sour cream, and the whole table exploded into laughter at his expense. The only ones who weren’t laughing were Quaritch, who looked like he wanted an aspirin, or maybe a couple of shots of whiskey if aspirin wasn’t available, and Spider, whose face flushed pink from anger and embarrassment.

“That wasn’t ice cream!” He cried.

“Yeah, no shit! It’s sour cream, dumbass,” Wainfleet wheezed, “oh, god, you shoulda seen the look on your face!”

“I can show him,” Z-dog said with a wicked grin as she brandished her tablet, “I got it on video.”

The whole table howled with renewed bouts of laughter as Z-dog replayed Spider’s hilarious reaction on screen. Now Spider’s ears burned pink to match the rest of his face, the way they did whenever he was about to pitch a fit. Quaritch groaned in anticipation of another day filled with teenage attitude. And the morning had gone so peacefully too.

“You’re an asshole!” Spider yelled. He snatched a taco off his plate and reared back to throw it right at Wainfleet’s bald dome of a head.

“No!” With reflexes that only came from parenting an unruly child, Quaritch managed to grab Spider’s wrist and before he sent the would-be missile sailing at its shiny, blue target.

“But he—” Spider began to protest, only for Quaritch to cut him off with a look. He huffed and muttered something that was no doubt very rude in Na’vi, but wisely decided not to protest any further.

“Alright, that’s enough. Are you soldiers or a pack of fucking hyenas?” Quaritch asked his squad.

Finally, the big blue idiots shut up, their faces ranging on a scale from scolded to shameless. Despite being the one who nearly caused a food fight, Wainfleet looked the most shameless of them all. “Aww, c’mon, boss. It was just a harmless prank!”

“Whatever it was, it’s over. Get your shit together. We have a meeting in ten,” said Quaritch. The look in his eyes was enough of a warning for the recoms to sober up and finish eating.

Beside him, Spider grumbled under his breath again, but this time Quaritch’s sharp ears caught what he said. “A prank, huh?”

A sinking feeling settled into Quaritch’s stomach. Something told him this was just the beginning of a huge headache— one that had nothing to do with the one brewing behind his eyes.

***

The next day, the recoms were out in the jungle to continue their “field training” while they waited for any intel on Sully. To Quaritch’s relief, Spider had been in an uncharacteristically good mood all day, obeying orders and keeping his snarkiness to a minimum. It seemed like yesterday’s sour cream prank had been forgotten. He checked his watch and noted how late it was getting. Well, what do you know? It was almost time to call it a night and Spider had been on his best behavior all day. Maybe today would be the first day without having a Spider-related crisis. The thought made his lips twitch upwards in the barest hint of a smile.

When he heard a muffled scream followed by Spider laughing like a maniac, his smile went away.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbled as he turned to see Spider sprint into the little camp they’d set up, an impish grin on his face. “What did you do?”

In answer, Spider just laughed even harder. Quaritch was saved from interrogating him by Wainfleet stomping into camp a moment later, effectively answering his question. A huge, furry yellow mass protruded from his mouth, like he’d tried to swallow a cat whole, and in one hand he held a plant that looked an awful lot like a cattail— a cattail with a bite taken out of it, revealing fluffy yellow insides.

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, but Quaritch asked anyway. “Wainfleet, what the hell did you do?”

Wainfleet angrily pointed his cattail at Spider like a spear and tried to say something, but all that came out of his mouth was more yellow fuzz. He doubled over, hacking and wheezing around the plant matter. It almost seemed to defy the laws of physics how much fluff kept coming out of his mouth. Just when you’d think there couldn’t possibly be more, another round of the stuff would appear.

Spider was wheezing almost as hard as Wainfleet was from how hard he was laughing. “I told— I told him— it was like a— a— Na’vi corndog!”

“And you believed him?” Quaritch asked Wainfleet exasperatedly.

Wainfleet gave him a sheepish shrug as he tried to spit out the never-ending stream of plant fur. At this point, the rest of the recoms noticed his plight, and soon everyone except for Quaritch joined Spider in laughing their asses off at him. Z-dog whipped out her tablet and started filming. As they laughed and jeered, Wainfleet’s tail whipped behind him and his ears flattened against his skull. He let out another muffled roar and made a violent gesture at Spider like he wanted to wring his neck. The furious look in his eyes wasn’t enough to make Spider stop laughing, but it was enough to send him scurrying behind Quaritch. This move proved wise when Wainfleet lunged for Spider a moment later, and was stopped by Quaritch’s disappointed scowl.

“Alright, that’s enough everybody! We need to secure the camp before dark!” Quaritch barked before turning to Wainfleet. “You, go clean that shit outta your mouth, and you,” he frowned down at Spider, who was trying very hard to look like he wasn’t hiding behind him for protection, “better not start lying to us about what these plants do. I catch you giving us something that ain’t safe to eat again and I’ll beat you ‘til you don’t need those stripes to look blue anymore.”

“Aww, c’mon, it’s not like I gave him something poisonous!” Spider whined. “It was just a prank.”

Just a prank. The sinking feeling returned to Quaritch’s stomach, along with his headache. Why did he have a feeling this wasn’t going to be the last time he heard that?

(A/N: for anyone who needs a visual, this is what happened to Wainfleet: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/JFKAEnIwtLg)

***

It was less than twenty-four hours before the next prank. The following morning, as they broke camp and prepared the ikran to travel, a piercing scream broke the silence. Quaritch was rearranging Cupcake’s saddlebags when he heard the cry and instantly recognized Spider’s voice. He’d never moved so fast in his life. One minute, he was on the edge of their camp and the next he was at Spider’s side, ready to destroy whatever had dared to make him scream like that. His panic quickly turned to anger when instead of a threat, he found Wainfleet guffawing loudly while Spider cussed him out in a mix of Na’vi and English. Quaritch’s fists shook ever so slightly from how badly Spider’s scream had scared him. He’d gotten so scared it made him feel sick to his stomach, only for it to turn out to be another damn prank. A low growl rose in his throat, but Spider and Wainfleet were too wrapped up in their prank war to notice.

“What the hell even is this?” Spider asked as he angrily pulled something out of his sleeping bag: an evil-looking bug that would’ve been frightening if it wasn’t made of plastic.

“It’s a spider, Spider. What, you don’t like it? Why’d you name yourself after something you don’t like?” Wainfleet chuckled.

“You’re such a dick!” Spider reared back to hurl the fake spider at him, but Quaritch snatched it out of his hand before he could. With a snarl, he chucked the hunk of plastic as far off into the jungle as he could.

“Hey!” Wainfleet protested as his toy disappeared into the undergrowth.

Both Spider and Wainfleet turned to look at Quaritch with matching petulant expressions over having their spat interrupted, but the glower Quaritch gave them was so intense all their childish protests instantly died in their throats.

“Ikran. Now.” Quaritch hissed through clenched teeth.

They made the wise choice to say, “yes sir,” and obey him without complaint. Any other answer would’ve ended with somebody getting chucked into the woods after the toy spider.

***

Quaritch made the mistake of assuming his anger at them in the morning would be enough to bring the prank war to an armistice. That evening, Spider launched his counterattack. When Wainfleet went to lay down for the night, he let out a shriek of disgust at finding a creepy-crawly in his bedroll. It was exactly like what he’d done to Spider, except for one important difference. His unwanted visitor wasn’t made from harmless plastic— and neither were its fangs.

“That’s it!” Wainfleet roared after he’d been bitten on the hand by the Pandoran creature. “I’m gonna teach that little brat a lesson!”

Spider started snickering from across the camp when he heard Wainfleet’s furious voice, but he sobered up fast once he realized Wainfleet wasn’t joking about his threat this time. Once Wainfleet started stomping towards him like an angry titanothere, Spider made the smart choice to make himself scarce. He bolted for the nearest cover, which just so happened to be Quaritch’s tent.

Quaritch was in the middle of writing a status report to Ardmore when he heard Wainfleet start hollering and decided to ignore it. He would deal with those idiots later. Unfortunately, “later” came much sooner than he would have liked when he found himself with a sweaty human teenager scrambling over him to hide in the back of the tent. Bony elbows and knees somehow found the most painful places to land, and a dirty foot sent his tablet flying out of the tent.

“Boy, are you out of your goddamn mind?” Quaritch roared.

Spider slunk into the furthest corner of the tent like a cornered animal. “Sorry.”

An instant later, Wainfleet’s head poked into the tent. His eyes glossed over Quaritch like he wasn’t even there and landed on Spider. “Get back here!”

“No way!” Spider snapped back. The two of them quickly devolved into a shouting match with Quaritch stuck in the middle, completely ignored.

“It’s too late to hide now, you little shit! Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it back.”

“You’re the one who can’t take it back! All I did was finish what you started!”

“I didn’t use a real bug!” Wainfleet waved his hand, which had a swollen insect bite on the palm.

“Sounds like you’re just a pussy!”

“You little bastard!”

“That is enough!” Quaritch’s roar interrupted the shouting match before it could get physical. His gruff voice carried a deep authority to it that instantly cowed the two pranksters. Once he was sure he had their attention, he started dressing them down like he should’ve done yesterday. “You two have been acting like toddlers ever since you started this ridiculous prank war and I’m sick of it! Wainfleet, you’re a grown man for Christ’s sake. The boy is here to teach us and he can’t do that if you keep fucking around with him!”

Wainfleet’s ears drooped down in shame and he murmured an apology. Spider smirked at him.

“And what are you looking so smug for, huh?” Quaritch asked, and his smirk vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Did you forget you only get to stay out here so long as you behave yourself? You gotta be smarter than this, kid. Not everyone is gonna be as lenient with you as I am, and you’ll get yourself in deep shit acting a fool like this. If I was anybody else, your ass would already be back in Ardmore’s custody, do you understand that?”

Spider squirmed in place at the uncomfortable reminder and also murmured an apology.

“You two are done pranking each other, got it?”

“Yes, sir.” They chorused.

“And when we get back to base, you’re gonna scrub down the latrines until they’re clean enough to eat off of.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Spider cursed under his breath as he scrubbed the filthy toilet before him— a recom-sized toilet, complete with recom-sized skid marks. Stupid Wainfleet, stupid prank, stupid toilet! He braced his arms against the toilet seat to get a better angle for scrubbing, but he was scrubbing so hard that he slipped. Spider squealed in horror as he nearly fell face-first into the toilet. He managed to catch himself and avoid an accidental-swirly at the last second.

“This is bullshit!” He hurled his cleaning rag against the wall with a wet THWAP!

A moment later, Wainfleet peered around the edge of the stall. “Can’t believe I’m saying it, but I agree with you. I’m an elite member of fucking project Phoenix, not some dumb grunt. This is a punishment for rookies.”

“Yeah, and I’m not a rookie. I didn’t sign up to get bossed around by Quaritch. I didn’t sign up for this at all!” Spider threw his hands up in frustration at his miserable situation.

“I know Quaritch is the boss around here, but he oughta have a little more respect for his squad.”

“And a little more respect for me too!”

Wainfleet gave Spider a sly look out of the corner of his eyes. He held up a bottle of shaving cream he’d found in the bathroom cabinet. “Hey, kid… what do you say we knock the boss down a peg?”

Spider frowned as he processed Wainfleet’s words before giving him a sly grin of his own. “What do you have in mind?”

***

Spider barely contained his laughter as he and Wainfleet snuck down the hallway to Quaritch's room. Usually, Quaritch took a brief nap after his meetings with Ardmore, which made him a perfect target for their prank: the classic shaving-cream-on-the-hand trick. The two pranksters peeked into Quaritch’s room and saw him fast asleep on his oversized bed.

“Go on, I’m right behind you.” Wainfleet whispered, handing him the shaving cream.

Armed with the shaving cream can, Spider slunk into the room as silently as a thanator on the hunt. He’d played plenty of pranks on Lo’ak and Neteyam growing up, so he knew exactly how to approach a sleeping Na’vi without setting off their sensitive hearing. Once he was close enough, he saw Quaritch lying with his hand splayed, palm facing up, right next to his face. He couldn’t have asked for a better set up. Spider took a moment to compose himself before filling Quaritch’s empty palm with a big, fluffy dollop of cream. If he laughed now, the prank would be ruined.

After the set-up was complete, Spider turned to Wainfleet, ready for him to finish the job. He wasn’t there. Spider frowned in confusion when he realized that Wainfleet was still standing in the doorway instead of right behind him like they’d planned.

Once Wainfleet saw he was looking, he gave Spider a devious grin and slowly started to close the door. Spider’s jaw dropped as he realized what Wainfleet was doing.

“Wainfleet, no!” He whispered as loud as he dared. Spider lunged for the door, but he was way too late.

CLICK! The sound of the door locking echoed in the quiet room, shortly followed by Wainfleet’s muffled laughs from the otherside.

“Wainfleet!” Spider hissed desperately as he tried to open the locked door.

The next sound he heard was that of Quaritch waking up and realizing his hand was full of shaving cream. His holler could be heard all throughout Bridgehead:

“MILES JAVIER SOCORRO!”

[natalievoncatte]

cw: this ficlet contains some graphic violence and a child in peril, but everyone makes it out okay, except the bad guy.

“Now, Alex? Right now?” Kara demanded, as she laced the room with her phone to her ear. Lena watched her from the bed, hands resting on the dime of her belly, a bemused smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, Kara, but the rampaging supervillain didn’t check your schedule before attacking the city.”

She glanced at Lena, whose smirk had taken on a hint of sadness.

“My wife is about to give birth,” Kara sighed. “Alex… we talked about this. We still need to figure out how to make it work.”

“I know, I know, but I have J’onn on his way there now to keep an eye on Lena. It’ll be fine. You’ll probably be back before they’re done prepping her.”

“Fine, I’m on my way.”

Ending the call, she turned to Lena, cupping her soft cheek with one hand.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

“Kara,” said Lena. “This is a surgical procedure. I don’t think you need to actually watch it anyway.”

“I promised I’d be here.”

Lena sighed. “Go get ‘em, Supergirl.”

Kara hesitated, unable to restrain the frown that twisted her lips as she left. She waited until she was on the roof to whip off her glasses and materialize her suit. Alex had directed her downtown.

Kara flew, and fast. When she landed it was with a bit more of a shockwave than usual, and she spared the usual pleasantries and pleas to surrender peacefully. An eight foot tall, blue, horned alien was engaged in the usual mayhem as she arrived, and paid her little mind.

He opened by throwing a steamroller at her. Kara sidestepped it, sighing. The wind really had left her sails for this. She wanted to be with Lena. She wanted to welcome their baby into the world.

The alien quickly made it apparent that she didn’t need to pull her punches, and she didn’t. Nevertheless, it took half an hour for her to put him in a headlock and knock him out, and there was an interminable wait while Alex had him loaded up into a containment unit.

“Go,” Alex finally told her. “Go see your son.”

Kara took off with renewed vigor, landing a block from the hospital to change into her civilian clothes before rushing in. She moved perhaps a touch too fast for a human as she returned to the maternity ward and walked into a nightmare.

J’onn was standing in the hallway. He seemed indistinct, somehow, like he was in the middle of phasing, and he was frozen as still as a statue. There was something stuck to the chest of his polo shirt, and when Kara reached for the circular device, her hand passed through him.

She jabbed the comms she’d left in her ear.

“Alex,” she whispered, frantic. “Something’s wrong at the hospital. Someone incapacitated J’onn.”

“Wait for me,” Alex replied at once her voice high and tight.

“I can’t.”

“Kara,” Alex began, but Kara ignored her.

She pushed into the surgical ward, slowing when she saw a nurse lying against the wall, clutching a wound in her stomach as a doctor crouched beside her. Lena was still on the table.

The baby, her son, was beside Lena, still covered in amniotic fluid, his cord uncut, crying lustily for his mother.

Standing over him was a man Kara never expected to see again. Ben Lockwood.

“Hello, Kara.”

She froze. Lockwood held a sharp chunk of Kryptonite in his hand, the jagged point aimed down at the child. The other held a gun aimed at Lena’s chest.

The painful burning spread up Kara’s limbs, working its way along her nerves like a thousand hot needles scraping under her skin. Her knees buckled and she fought the pull of gravity.

“Get rid of the kryptonite,” Kara demanded.

“You have to make a choice. The kid or the wife. You’ve got ten seconds. Pick one.”

Kara locked eyes with him, pleasing.

“Me. Not them. Take me instead.”

Lockwood smiled, though his eyes remained cold and dead. “Wrong answer. I guess I’ll just have to pick for you.”

Kara finally started to sink, the collapse imminent. She knew what she had to do. With her dwindling strength, she threw herself at Lockwood, sprinting the distance, and in her weakened state, she could do no more than artlessly crash into him.

The gun spun free, unfired.

The kryptonite slid home, parting the flesh under Kara’s ribs. A fresh agony ripped through her as the jagged point struck her lung. She collapsed on top of Lockwood.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, foaming blood from her lips falling on Lockwoods face.

With her remaining strength, she clamped her hands on his neck and twisted. It took no more effort than cleaning a chicken. She barely felt the bones part as her hand went numb.

I have to get the Kryptonite away from the baby.

Kara rolled off of the body and began dragging herself, forcing her way past her screaming son and into the hallway, painting the tiles red for a good fifteen feet until she finally collapsed. She thought she heard Alex calling to her, as blackness came in and swallowed everything.

***

The first thing Kara was aware of was the pleasant, prickling heat of sun lamps on her skin, and shortly after that, the sound of a voice… singing. It was a familiar voice, soft and halting, singing the lullaby as if she might be embarrassed if someone caught her.

Kara opened her eyes and looked over, flooded with a wave of relief as she saw Lena sitting beside her, curled up in a chair with the baby swaddled in her arms, sleeping peacefully.

Joy and relief shattered her more fiercely than sorrow ever could. Kara choked out a pained sob, more following as the sheer weight of it overwhelmed her. Lena looked up and Kara saw she hadn’t slept.

“Is he okay?” Kara said. “Did the kryptonite hurt him?”

“Nothing permanent or serious,” said Lena. “His half-human physiology makes him much less sensitive to it than you are.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kara said, her body shaking with sobs. “Rao, I am so sorry. I left you. I left you.”

Lena shook her head. “Kara, it’s alright. You saved us. Ben Lockwood was as much my enemy as…”

Was.

Kara sat up and plunged her head in her hands. She sobbed harder. She’d done the one thing she swore on her very life never to do. She killed him.

“Kara,” said Lena. “Would you like to hold your son? He wants to meet you.”

Her head snapped up. Kara held back the sobs as she tenderly accepted the bundle from Lena’s arms. Her little boy was at once the lightest and easiest and heaviest burden her arms had ever carried. Tears fell freely as she stared at his tiny sleeping face. He was perfect. Perfect.

“Should you be on your feet so soon after the surgery?”

Lena sighed. “It’s been two weeks, Kara. That kryptonite did a number on you.”

“Oh,” said Kara.

They were quiet for a time, Kara rocking the baby gently in the bed while Lena carded her fingers through Kara’s hair.

“This is it,” said Kara. “This is the end. Supergirl is done. He comes first. You come first. We come first.”

“Yes,” Lena agreed. “Alex and I talked about it while you were out and she told me what you were planning to do, so we took the opportunity. Supergirl died saving me from Ben Lockwood. I gave the eulogy at your public funeral. It was very moving, I’m told.”

“I’m sure it was,” Kara said, absently.

Suddenly, Lena threw her arms around them both, pulling them into a tight embrace. Kara leaned into it, burying her face in the crook of Lena’s shoulder.

“Let’s go home.”

[editorofeverything]

Back on my NaLu BS

A little snippet of a fic, but I needed a pallet cleanser from how hard I've been working to finish my long fic and nalu has been plaguing me especially this week, so enjoy a sleepy nalu fic

Natsu stalked across the dark city, a clear destination in mind.

It was late—so late, not a single soul could be found walking the quiet city. Even the streetlights and half-moon high in the sky provided little light between the dark buildings as he stalked through streets and alleyways.

Natsu wasn’t sure why he needed to leave the house. He even left Happy behind in his need to go, leaving the blue cat to snore peacefully on their little cot. He didn’t even grab any clothes, marching through the city with nothing but his sleep shorts on.

It was just—Natsu couldn’t sleep. He was tired, and Happy’s snoring and mumbling usually helped Natsu doze off easily, but tonight was different. Every time Natsu closed his eyes, he thought of golden hair and brown eyes. He thought of a warm scent of vanilla and roses and something else that Natsu couldn’t explain except that it was completely Lucy. He waited and waited to fall asleep, but after a few hours of tossing and turning, Natsu couldn’t ignore the itch at the back of his mind that needed to see her.

So, there he was, following the instinct to find her in the dead of night until he was looking up at her apartment. If he woke her, she would yell at him and throw something, so he had to be careful.

He jumped up to her window, easing it open slowly.

There she was. She was tucked deep within her blankets, top of her head just barely peeking out, but he could smell her calm scent and hear the steady beat of her heart.

Natsu didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t want to leave, even after checking in on her. Would she be really mad if he stayed? He didn’t actually want her to be mad, but it was hard to ignore the instinct that wanted him to stay.

A breeze blew in and Lucy shivered, even under all her blankets.

Natsu was inside closing the window before he knew it. Well, he was already inside. He might as well stay and deal with the consequences tomorrow.

He crawled into bed with Lucy, easing the blanket open to slip next to her warm body. At least she was wearing something this time—Natsu paused with the blanket in his hand, taking in the too big white button down that hung off her shoulders and bunched around her waist, completely covered in his scent.

He didn’t know why he paused on it. Lucy wore his clothes sometimes. Lucy wore no clothes sometimes. Why was it weird that she wore his shirt to bed?

She already had traces of his scent—they spent too much time not to have their scents muddled together at this point. Her apartment especially spelled just as much like him as it did her. So why did this shirt make him feel so strange?

Lucy made a noise in her sleep, shifting onto her side so she was facing him, arms somehow finding him and pulling him closer to her.

“What am I, a pillow,” her mumbled to himself, forgetting the strange feeling the shirt brought out and instead focused on the warmth of Lucy’s skin pressed against his and the calming intermingling of their scents. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

~

Lucy woke slowly, warm and groggy and ready to fall back asleep no matter what the bright stream of sunlight beaming in through her curtains had to say.

“Hmm…” A deep voice hummed, and Lucy jumped out of her skin, snapping her eyes open to someone lying next to her.

It took a moment for her sleepy brain to understand, but it came to her slowly. The blankets had been kicked to the bottom of her bed at some point, probably because a salamander snuck into her bed and overheated her. At some point, Lucy had climbed half on top of him, pressing her front against his as she used him as a pillow and likely a source of heat.

Lucy… didn’t know how to react. She usually got annoyed or embarrassed when Natsu broke into her apartment, but she couldn’t deny in her sleepy state that she slept much better last night than she did in the past year.

Ever since Aquarius... Lucy just couldn't get to sleep, and even when she did, she couldn't stay asleep. Nightmares of losing her friend and her guild plagued her until she forced herself to give up on sleeping.

Natsu grumbled again in his sleep, arms coming around her waist just as he rolled onto his side, taking her with him so that they lied facing each other. Lucy blinked sleepily at his face, completely relaxed and breathing so deeply that Lucy couldn’t bring herself to wake him.

“I’ll yell at you later,” she whispered, tucking herself back into him and letting her eyes droop shut, just missing Natsu’s eyes slitting open. She fell asleep quickly, and Natsu tightened his arms around her and rested his head against hers before falling back asleep himself.

[paraliveimaginesblog]

AKYR + dreaming that their loved one died/disappeared but they’re sleeping next to them peacefully? [like the one with Bae]

Hokusai Masaki:

Hokusai was used to the comforting feelings of you sleeping next to him. The only times he actually had nightmares was when he slept at night without you, which was inevitable at some points but he managed to make it work. But this one was horrible, rather than some abstract monster chasing him, it was like a direct hit on his psyche. You were looking at him with such distaste, a frown he’d never seen on your face, taking a step back as he reached out for you. You apologized to him but he could tell you were impatient, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible. He was frozen in place as you ran away from him, unable to chase you or to ask what he had done.

He normally woke up in a cold sweat, a little restless, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. It was a position he felt safe in, grounded him until he realized that despite having a nightmare you were actually right beside him. He wondered if you were real for a moment, reaching over to pat your head; soft, and warm, and you smelled good… You were definitely there. He laid himself back down and turned toward you, grabbing one of your hands and lacing your fingers together. If you moved, he’d know, and he’d have the chance to ask where you were going before you were gone.

Iori Suiseki:

Iori doesn’t have dreams often, but when he does, it feels like it’s his failures haunting him. They’re generally the ‘what ifs’, like what if he had been there with the rest of his family? What if he wasn’t here for the rest of AKYR? What if you had been there, an innocent bystander in a life you knew nothing about aside from being enamored with him—it never sat right that he had unintentionally charmed you into danger. His own mind tortures him, forces him to see a reality that he’d rather not, your limp bloodied body feeling so impossibly real he thinks it has to be true. That you were there that fateful day.

Iori felt exhausted when he finally opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling briefly before turning his head to look at your sleeping form. Your back is to him but when he listened carefully, he could hear the relaxed rhythm of your breathing, snaking himself a little closer to press his ear to your back. The quiet reassurance of your heartbeat allowed him to settle in again, his arm draped over your waist as he stayed close until it was time to rise.  

Reo Maruyama:

Reo had been so excited for a sleepover! He had made your bed and set it next to his own, the two of you chatting until you both eventually grew silent as sleep overtook you. It was a happy time for him, one where you didn’t have to separate at night, which leaves Reo feeling even more unsettled when he dreams of you leaving. Not just leaving like normal, but with this finality—like he’d never get to see you again. He walked toward you, then ran, but no matter the speed you never got closer. You seemed to just fade into the background, ignoring Reo’s desperate pleas for you to come back.

He probably would’ve called you and woke you up if you hadn’t been sleeping next to him, anxiety weighing heavy on his chest; his racing thoughts wouldn’t have been tamed until he heard the reassuring sound of your voice. He didn’t like that dream, not at all, and he found himself seeking comfort in you. He slipped under your blanket and rested his head on your chest, only half understanding your sleepy mumble but you were at least not telling him to get away.

Satsuki Ito:

Satsuki was always a little high strung when you slept over; you had warmed up to sleeping right next to each other, quite patient with your boyfriend who still seemed to stress about making everything perfect for you. It was worth the wait as he was a master at cuddling and making you comfortable, and he always said that you chased away his bad dreams, but not all the time. Some days they managed to sneak past him, his guard down, the image of your body among many others burned into his brain no matter how infrequently he dreamed of it.

He's twitchy, trying not to move since you’re happily slumbering in his arms but he feels the need to move, do something. His wiggling around trying to get comfortable again always wakes you up but he stuttered out an apology, not wanting to worry you over something as silly as a nightmare. But you could read him like a book at this point, finger tracing lazily around his jaw as you told him that you loved him and that it wasn’t nice to lie. He knew he was beat on that front, muttering that it could be talked about in the morning as you were fully rested.

Zen Gaho:

Zen sees you in his place. It’s like watching his own life through an outside perspective but instead of him it’s you. The event still has a chokehold on him but he’d go through it a thousand more times if it meant he never had to see you that way again, if he never had to hear your cries of pain or desperate pleading for it to stop. The nightmares always cause him to wake up gasping, clenching his chest as the burning ache of bile shoots up from his stomach and threatens to ruin the sheets.

He can normally calm himself once his eyes adjust to the dark and he sees you’re peacefully next to him. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he moved your hair out of your face (or your limbs, depending on how you slept) wanting a better look at you just to assure his rapidly beating heart that nothing had actually happened. He doesn’t get a restful night of sleep after that but there’s some comfort that comes with being able to pull you in his arms, wrapping himself around you so that nothing could get to you without going through him first.

[wqterlillypdfs]

with you this christmas (s.h)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader summary: steve doesn't love the holiday season, but for you he'll sacrifice whatever - and turns out, you just end up making it all the better word count: 1k trigger warnings: none i think a/n: this is inspired by a cute little dream i had last night, and i just really wanted to write it down. also, @thatfangirl42, i'm sorry dream me stole your man! take this as a present from me to you to make up for it 🥰 i'm also super out of practice and i kinda hate this, so i'm really sorry it's not that great

Steve had never liked Christmas; he was used to ignoring the cheerful holiday music and the dazzling lights that adorned practically every street in his neighbourhood. All those decorations had never meant anything to him, not when his parents had done little more than stuff some overpriced presents beneath an even more overpriced tree.

He had always tried to enjoy it. He had tried baking the cookies, and stuffing the stockings. He’d attended every Christmas party his friends had invited him to, but by the end he’d just feel absolutely exhausted. He couldn’t see the point in celebrating something that meant so little to him.

But that was until he met you.

You approached Christmas with an entirely different energy. You basically buzzed with festive spirit. You adored the lights, the elaborate decorations, the delicate ornaments and all of the home-cooked meals. Sure, Steve had heard you mention Christmas offhandedly throughout the year, he hadn’t expected you to approach it with such fervour. 

And while Steve wasn’t sure that he’d be able to fulfil all your Christmas wishes to the fullest, he promised himself he’d try for you. 

———

Your living room was filled with the scent of fresh-baked gingerbread and cinnamon. The slow crackling of the fireplace and the smell of burning wood felt just like home. This was the first Christmas you’d be spending away from your parents, but also your first proper Christmas with Steve. The past week had been nothing short of busy, you had spent an entire day decorating just the Christas tree alone which Steve had kindly helped you lug up your apartment stairs, and then had got to work baking an assortment of Christmas cookies, which again, Steve had generously helped you do.

So far, everything had been going perfectly, but as the week had continued you realised your dilemma. It had been about four days until Christmas and you still hadn’t gotten your boyfriend a gift. You wanted this Christmas to be absolutely-nothing-less-than perfect for him, and while you’d consider yourself a top-notch gift giver, you think you’d finally met your match. You were well aware that Steve wasn’t fond of this time of year, and you were grateful of how much effort he’d put into making this perfect for you, so of course you were determined to do the same for him.

After much back and forth and consulting with both Robin and Nancy, you think you’ve finally found the perfect present.

But right now, this current moment was perfect. It was Christmas day, and after a peacefully slow morning that you had spent with your boyfriend,the two of you were enjoying each other’s presence. You sat curled up on your sofa, Steve’s head resting in your lap as you ran one hand through his soft hair. His eyes were closed peacefully, lips turned in a sweet lazy smile. It took everything in you not to kiss his face right there. 

“Stevie,” you mumbled, your hand brushing over his cheek ever so lightly. He hummed in response, eyes still closed. “I have one more thing for you.”

He turns his face so his eyes meet yours in a quizzical look, before he pushes himself off your lap and positions himself properly on the sofa next to you - one leg hanging off the edge with his body turned to face yours. “You didn’t need to do that-”

“I wanted to!” you insist before he could protest any further, you pulled out a bag from underneath the sofa, watching as his pretty smile got even wider. You adored it when he smiled like that, he looked just like a little puppy. Finally, you pulled out the present, the gift was wrapped in a glittery Christmas paper with Steve’s name printed carefully on top.

“For you,” you say, as you hand the gift over to him.

He takes it tenderly from your hands before pressing a smiley kiss to your lips, “you’re too sweet.” The compliment makes you blush.

You hoped and prayed that the gift would be good enough, but little did you know Steve would’ve been content if you had given him socks or a lump of coal. Carefully, he works to undo the gift wrapping, treating the present like porcelain. You didn’t think it was possible, but his face lights up even more when he sees the gift underneath.

The other gifts you had gotten Steve this Christmas were all just little novelties, things you’d known he liked but they weren’t memorable enough. You wanted to give Steve a gift that he would cherish for a very long time.

“Is this what I think it is-?” He asks excitedly, as he undid the final bit of wrapping paper, revealing the specially made gift underneath. His thumb brushes over the mixtape you had made for him of both of your favourite songs. You had titled it “Steve + Y/n’s mix!” with cute little shiny hearts and star stickers decorating the edges.

“Do you like it?” You asked quickly.

“I more than like it, sweetheart,” he said, eyes reflecting the glow of your warm fireplace, “I love it.”

You grinned widely, “I just really wanted this Christmas to be perfect for you,” you told him, “and I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing all this on you, I know you’ve never been fond of all this Christmas-y stuff-”

But even before you could finish your sentence, Steve pulled you into a kiss, his lips firmly pressed against yours, all so sweet and filled with love.

“I may not have always loved Christmas,” Steve starts, pulling his lips away from yours, “but I do love you, and this Christmas has been nothing short of amazing.”

His arms wrap around your waist as you bury your face in his neck to hide your blush that has definitely gone three shades darker.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper into his ear.

His smile is sweet as he parrots your words. "Merry Christmas," he says back, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks he really means it.

---

tagging: n/a

[lovelynim]

Mornings

Grand Chase - Ronan Erudon x Harpe Noir

A/N: Happy birthday, Harpe <3

Summary: Ronan needs to wake up Harpe to celebrate his birthday.

Word count: 1422

With the curtains closed, Harpe rested peacefully in the dusk. Laying on his stomach, the servant kept his arms wrapped around the pillow, comfortably sleeping without a worry in his mind. Since it was his birthday, the ms. Erudon had decided to give him a day off, insisting that he should take the day to spend time with his family, friends and not trying to fulfill any possible duties.

As much as it was hard for him to let go of work, Harpe knew how to enjoy a proper rest from his routine - sleeping till late, for example. As for his plans for later, if any, he would probably go on a stroll with his master and, for the night, probably eat dinner with his family.

Nothing really special, nothing really big, but simple things that would bring joy and ease to his heart. Just enough to make him happy.

knock knock knock

Almost enough.

Harpe pressed his eyes, trying to ignore the noise. Groaning quietly, he turned his back to the door, pulling the blankets over his shoulder.

“...Harpe, are you awake?”

A familiar voice from outside his bedroom asked. He sighed, knowing he shouldn’t leave Ronan, of all people, hanging, but…it shouldn’t be that bad if it was just for today, right?

As no answer came from him, Ronan gently pushed the door open, curiously peeking inside the room. The young master smiled, walking in on the tip of his toes and closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.

Leaning back into the door to admire the view, Ronan smiled seeing Harpe resting so peacefully, entangled in his mattress in a mess of his own, totally unlike the Harpe he knew on a daily basis.

As much as he wished he didn’t, Harpe was already aware of the presence of his young master in his bedroom. It was not like he was pretending to sleep, but rather trying to go back into it as soon as possible, not even bothering to greet Ronan at that moment. His pillow seemed like a much more interesting company.

Ronan squatted near the bed’s edge, tilting his head with a fond smile on his lips. “Harpe… are you awake?” He cooed, reaching for his uncovered foot and playfully stroking it, lightly tickling his servant’s sole.

Harpe’s eyes twitched as the tinglish feeling ran up his leg, the corner of his lips threatening to curl into a smile. Yet, sticking to his original idea, the servant simply pulled his leg away from Ronan’s touch, hiding himself under his blankets again.

“Ticklish, hm?” Ronan whispered teasingly, probably already seeing through Harpe’s intentions at that point, but still deciding to be a brat about it. “How very cute of you, Harpe…”

Hearing out an annoyed sigh coming from his servant, Ronan chuckled lightly as he got back up, placing his knee over the mattress, kicking off his shoes as he started to slowly crawl closer to Harpe.

Ronan placed his hand over one of Harpe’s legs, slowly moving it over the blankets, caressing his thighs, asscheek until he finally reached his waist, holding it firmly. “You can’t fool me, Harpe…”

“...you are insufferable sometimes, young master,” Harpe muttered back, still with his eyes closed. Hearing an amused chuckle from Ronan, he tried to ignore him as the younger lifted his touch from his body.

Harpe could barely react in time as his blankets were suddenly pushed aside, just frowning as he turned his back to Ronan, “...let me sleep, young master…”

“I have a whole day planned for you… and you want to sleep through half of it?” Ronan muttered, lowering his head as he placed a kiss on the middle of Harpe’s bareback, feeling his servant’s skin against the tip of his nose and cheeks. “...are you really ignoring me?” Ronan chuckled, moving his face up, kissing all the way to the back of Harpe’s neck. 

“For how long do you think you can hold this?” He whispered, closer to his servant’s ear this time, in a much more serious tone.Placing another kiss right below his ear, he grinned as he saw Harpe’s skin getting covered in goosebumps.

Harpe let out another sigh, this time, as if he was holding his breath from the very first kiss until the last one, shivering as Ronan teased him. “Young master…”

“Nah-ah… you know what I want,” Ronan chuckled, his lips still awfully close to Harpe’s ear. His breath made Harpe’s shoulder slightly scrunch up, a faint pink-ish shade spreading across his skin. “But I have to say… you seem incredibly sensitive today, Harpe, are you always like this when you wake up?” 

Ronan continued his monologue, now leaning behind Harpe and wrapping one hand around his servant’s body. His sultry, breathy voice was making Harpe lose it to the anticipation, clenching one of his hands into a fist as he tried to bear it.

Noticing how his words fell on deaf ears, Ronan used his hand to pull Harpe close to him. “Come on, don’t ignore me, Harpe…” he muttered, wiggling his fingers as he started to slowly tickle his servant’s stomach. “Har-pe ~”

Harpe whined quietly, feeling his lips starting to tremble as the urge to giggle was growing inside him. He tried to reach for Ronan’s hand and brush it off of his body, but his sleepy body slow moves weren’t even near enough to stop Ronan.

“Oh, is this working? Are you ticklish here too?” Ronan mused, circling Harpe’s navel with his fingers in an horribly ticklish fashion. “Answer me if you want me to stop, Harpe ~”

“Hmmph… R-Rohonan…” Harpe giggled tiredly, not able to hold a smile from forming on his lips.

“Yes, Harpe? What is it? Do you have… something to say? Hmm… no? Then..” He cooed back, now slowly dragging his nails over Harpe’s sides and waist, even blowing some warm air close to his ear. “Tickle tickle tickle… ~”

“Plehehease… aha, nohoho.. ” Harpe whined, feeling how the tickling was slowly pulling him away from his sleep, forcing him to wake up as it was growing more and more. This was so childish, so silly, yet so likely of his bratty young master. 

Despite his sleepy and lazy pleas, Ronan didn’t stop. Moving his hands all around at that same slow, teasing pace, playing with each and every one of his servant’s nerves, letting the ticklish sensation pester him as much as it could.

At some point, after some more strokes, Harpe finally seemed to crack. Unable to resist any further, his laughter poured out from his lips as he weakly held Ronan’s arm by his wrist, trying to pry it off his middrif. “O-ohohokay, ahahah… I-I’m ahahawake, Ronan!” He mweled, pressing his eyes shut as a bright, large smile formed on his lips. 

Harpe tried to turn around, to face his master once for all, but Ronan’s embrace kept him in place, at the mercy of his ticklish touch while he refused to let go. “Ah, took you long enough, huh?” He chuckled along with his servant, kissing his cheek as he moved his hand a little higher, tickling him right over his lower ribs. “Did you sleep well, Harpe?”

“Ahahah, n-no mohohore, Ronan!” Harpe laughed, not even bothering himself with that question as the tickling was taking the best of him. He started squirming a little more now, panicking as he couldn’t get a proper hold of his master’s hand anymore, being left with pressing his arm down to try to protect his sensitive self.

The Erudon’s master chuckled, amusing himself with his servant’s reactions for a couple more seconds before giving him the oh-so-requested break. “Heh, are you mad at me?” Ronan muttered, without a drop of regret in his voice.

“N-no, young master, I can’t get mad at you… even with you pestering me on my day off.”

“Well, I have a good reason,” Ronan said, sitting back up and waiting for Harpe to do the same. Before Harpe could complain any further, Ronan wrapped his arms around him into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, Harpe,” he whispered, holding him tightly.

“...thank you, Ronan,” Harpe said, hugging his master back, pressing his face into Ronan’s shoulder. After a few seconds, he lifted his face, looking to his master with a raised eyebrow. “Are you… wearing perfume?”

“I told you I had plans for you, didn’t I?” Ronan chuckled, giving Harpe’s lips a quick kiss before resume speaking. “Go get ready, we have a lot to do today.”

[3terna15unshin3]

Then Because She Goes

You wait for a bit

★ Chapter 8 of 15, 3041 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: none

<< 7

10 February, 2019

The first couple of hours of the morning were filled with lazy conversations, their eyes hazy with sleep and bare bodies still holding each other. Matty kissed her softly, despite her protesting about his morning breath, as he inched his hands over her skin in curiosity; while Este memorised the curl pattern in his messy hair with her fingers. It wasn’t until he craved a smoke (and her a brew) that they finally escaped the covers. Teeth were brushed. Clothes—though minimal—were slipped on. The kettle whistled.

She thought about how they spent the night. There was a moment where they were on the edge of falling into deep slumbers, facing opposite walls and void of touch. But right before Este became unconscious, she felt his feet inch closer to hers. Then his hands. And then, finally, he scooted backwards and rolled over to wrap his arm around her waist. The sweet action made her smile against the pillow and rest peacefully, waking up tangled within him, skin slightly sticky with sweat and with content expressions on their faces.

Matty handed her a cup of tea, holding a coffee for himself. The late morning sunlight streamed into his bedroom and blanketed the two of them. Sitting criss-cross in the crumpled sheets and draped in one of Matty’s t-shirts, Este held the mug up to her lips for a gulp after thanking him. He sat in front of her with his legs hanging off the edge of the mattress and a now half-smoked cigarette between his fingers.

The shirt he lent to her was one that fit him snugly, and since Este’s build wasn’t much smaller than his, it hugged her body in all of the right ways. He stared, worshipping her with his eyes. “It’s honestly a bit annoying that that’s one of my favourite shirts and now that I see it on you I’m realising that it looks shite on me.”

“Stop.” She laughed and gave him a diffident smile. “Things can look good on both of us, you know.”

“But look at you,” Matty argued as he patted around the sheets to find his phone and snap a quick photo. Instinctively, Este covered her face with her cup of tea, only letting her eyes peek out from above. He playfully shoved her, annoyed that she hid from his camera, before showing her the picture.

Este looked at home in both his clothes and his bedroom. The sky, which was surprisingly clear for a February day in London, lit up the space. There were crinkles next to her eyes from the bright smile pulling her cheeks upward, though stowed away behind the mug she held. She looked back and forth between Matty’s face and his phone screen that he displayed for her. The admiration in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

“I just look like I’m wearing any other shirt, mate.” Este said with a chuckle.

“Don’t call me your ‘mate’, after what happened last night. I don’t do that with my mates.” He said, making her laugh.

Silence drew upon them, but Matty started again. “Did you ever read the essay I told you to read? That night I crashed at yours?”

Her bottom scooted backwards to lean against the wall above their pillows and she outstretched her legs. “Not yet. I was going to read a copy from the shop but then it sold,” Este shared.

“I’ve got the e-book on my laptop so I can send it to you, if you want.” He offered, standing up and coming around to his side of the bed to copy her position and set his coffee down on the nightstand to his right. “I was just thinking about it because the author has these really interesting perspectives on beauty, and when I first read it, there were a lot of moments where I struggled to understand the purpose of them. But now I sort of get it. And I only started getting it when I met you.”

Este’s head turned to face him, not knowing what to say. “What kind of points does she make?” She sheepishly ignored that he was, almost philosophically, calling her beautiful.

“Well, she says beauty brings copies of itself into being. That it makes us draw it, take photographs of it, describe it to other people—it has a forward momentum. And I always thought that that was a sort of—superficial, I guess—way of putting it. But I feel that when I’m with you. Almost like I want to savour you up so that the minute you’re gone there’s still some of you left.”

She reached her hand over to his face to cup it gently. It migrated back across his jaw to the nape of his neck to run her fingers over the short hair gathered there, a gesture Este found herself doing often. Matty smiled gingerly.

“Do you say stuff like that to your mates?” Este spewed sarcastically.

While she giggled at her own joke, he scoffed and brushed her hand away from his head, protesting her attempt at reconciliation. “E, I’ve just tried to say something profound and poetic to impress you and you’ve gone and taken the piss out of it.” He whined.

Their limbs playfully fought with each other as Este tried to reach for his face while he swatted back and avoided her touch.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” She apologised when commotion came to a halt, watching Matty then pat his duvet-covered lap.

Understanding his message, Este dropped her once upright torso down to lay her head there, twisting to look up at him and fixing her hair to flow over his legs. Matty’s hands gravitated towards it and twirled it gently with his fingertips. There was a vast contrast between her dark, messy, morning locks and the cotton sheets it sprawled across. He couldn’t peel his eyes away.

“If you want me to be honest,” she continued, “That may have been the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. And I’m having a hard time fathoming that you could even think of it, let alone say it to me and mean it.”

“So you’re deflecting. With humour.” He chuckled.

“Don’t say it like that, as if you don’t do the same thing. But yes.”

“Well, I did mean it.”

Matty continued fidgeting away with his hands in Este’s hair. Occasionally, he would bring them close against her scalp and drag his nails over her skin with light pressure. It soothed her instantly. Now I get why he reacts the way he does when I play with his hair. This is nice, thought Este. When she shared her sudden understanding aloud to Matty, he smiled and hunched to kiss her on the forehead.

After they finally put some proper clothes on and had the energy to leave his bed permanently, Matty took the opportunity to show her around, formally. In the daylight, Este observed his home, now seeming different than the dimly lit one she explored the night before. She was impressed—and frankly jealous—of his expensive taste and how well it showed within every room he brought her into.

There was no need for them to venture anywhere else or find any activities to spend their time. Being with each other was enough. They sat in the lounge, sifting through Matty’s vinyl and spinning Este’s favourites. The remaining red wine from last night was sipped on while they cooked a much needed meal with the frozen noodles and veggies sitting in his freezer. Este did most of the work. He hugged her from behind and kissed her jaw while she stir fried. They found themselves tangled back in bed when a couple of quick pecks after eating led to something more. Hours passed slowly and sweetly.

Any inhibitions they’d had before seemed to vanish. But, as much as it felt perfectly right, when Este woke up from a second night’s sleep wrapped in Matty’s arms, she pondered how complicated it could get when he leaves. Matty wouldn’t be there to surprise her at Greenhouse. He’d be in different time zones every day, running on no sleep and living out of a suitcase. She felt silly for worrying about the future; but it was intimidating. The uncertainty seemed elevated, given his job, and status.

So, when their time together was over, by the fault of her return train ticket being at eleven o’clock that morning, she didn’t dare mention the way she felt. Cate and Georgia were in the loop the whole time, so Este packed up the few things she brought in her backpack while arranging a spot to meet up with them in the station. Leaving things up in the air felt like the right thing to do, so she did exactly that—surprised when Matty did the opposite.

“I don’t want this to be it, by the way.” He said as he shut the car door next to him and turned his key in the ignition. “I know I’ll be gone forever. And that it’s scary.”

She sat in the passenger’s seat, looking over at Matty as his eyes focused on the road as they took off. “It is scary.”

“But I wouldn’t give this up just because we’re scared. I don’t really know what we’ll be, or what we are right now, but I don’t want it to stop.”

“Me neither.” Este agreed, tucking a rogue strand of his hair behind his ear, smiling.

The car came to a halt when they approached the station entrance where she’d be meeting her flatmate. Cate’s red hair was easy to spot. She and Georgia stood and gave a small wave when they recognised who had pulled up.

“You can’t stay in London for one more day?” begged Matty, shifting the car into park.

“I have a job, you know. One that has a total of 2 employees. So, no.” Este chuckled, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “You should come up to the city next week. If you have any time before winning all of the Brits.”

“I’m not sure if I will. But I’ll text. And call.”

“Me too.”

“And I‘ll try to read all of the shitty books you tell me to read, in the meantime.” His joke earned him a shove in the shoulder.

When Este exited the car, Matty followed suit, to say a final goodbye to Cate and Georgia as well. He carried her backpack for her as they walked up to the two.

“Look who’s back from the dead,” commented Cate. “Thanks for taking her for a couple of days, mate. Was on the verge of ending things after having to sit on a train and share a hotel room with her in the state she was in before the party.” she directed towards Matty. All four of them laughed as Este frantically apologised for how unbearable she’d been leading up to the event, even though Cate was pulling her leg.

“I’ll take her off your hands anytime you want.” He joked. “Thank you guys for the great night on Saturday, by the way. You were the best company. And it was great to meet you, Georgia.” She smiled back at him as she and Cate pulled him in for one quick embrace each. “I’ll let you guys catch your train.”

Matty handed off the bag in his hands back over to Este, before beckoning her in with his hand on the back of her neck. The other came around her waist, giving her a squeeze of melancholy and cradling her head with his palm.

She squeezed back. “We’ll be under the same sky, even when you’re far. Remember that.”

A smile took over his face at her sweet words. He pressed his lips to her temple. “I will.”

-

16 February, 2019

matty

Today 13:09 PM

Pleaseeeeee tell me you’re off today

Pls

…

Bad news

Fuck

Just realised this is probably my last day off before brits and tour

Any chance you can come down to London for the day?

Matty I’m off at 8pm

by the time I’d get to you there would be no day left

Then spend the night x

Getting breakfast with my parents tmrw

Don’t think that would be a smart idea

Ok fiiiiine

Can u come to me :)

I’ve got meetings in the morning

and I am notorious for going out the night before meetings and then sleeping through them so Jamie has forbidden me from doing that

These ones are important too smh

Bullocks

and early??

First one is at 8

Yea a 2 hour train journey is off the table that would be brutal

I can ring you?? after I’m off

it’s not the same but still

Yes pls I just wanna hang out I’m bored and u make things fun

Busy day????

That's cute I miss u :((

Not really, I’ve just been sitting behind the counter avoiding my to-do list lol

reading one of my ‘shitty’ books

Don’t take offence i was being goofy

Being goofy or being a prick ????

you actually might like the one I’m reading bc it’s an essay collection

I’m leaving my mark ! Whether u like it or not!!

Unfortunately x

jk you’ve actually inspired me to branch out

Ha

What are you reading

Slouching Towards Bethlehem

Joan Didion

Omg

Have u read it ?

Not even joking I am Joan Didion’s bitch

She’s my hero that’s a really really great read

ofc you’re Joan Didion’s bitch how did I not guess that

I’m living under a rock idk how I’m only reading her stuff now

Yeah u are

That’s my favourite of hers as well

Lmk what u think of it once u finish

I will x

What are you up to anyway?

Nothing better to do than text me ?? ;)

Fuck off

But yeah tbh

That’s what I thought

Would probably still text u even if I had better things to do to be fair

When Este arrived home and threw her work bag onto her bed in exhaustion, she didn’t waste a moment before giving Matty a ring. It was a video call, of course. Seeing his face even through her screen was comforting.

They talked and didn’t stop; their skill of weaving through topics of all levels of relevance for hours on end—that they seemed to develop fairly quickly after meeting—showed. It was a relief that things hadn’t changed after the nights they spent together. Matty feared that their situation would complicate. But, his intentions remained. His eagerness to get to know both the big and little things about her, his need to hear her laugh and tell her his secrets. They persisted. And weren’t going anywhere.

With drooping eyes and low phone battery, the call ended. It was only quarter to midnight, but with both of their early-morning plans deemed a full night’s sleep a sensible idea. “Goodnight, E.” Este heard before hanging up. A headache lingered behind her eyes, so she groaned audibly and walked out of her room to find some tablets to swallow. She rubbed her temples and dragged her feet over to the drawer of medication.

“You okay?”

Este turned to Cate, who she hadn’t even realised was sitting in the lounge. She smiled, grabbing a glass of water and rummaging through the many boxes of pills to find Ibuprofen. “Yeah, just tired. Headache.”

Once she’d finally found and gulped two down, Cate waved her over. Este followed her instruction and joined her on the sofa. “So what’s going on?” asked Cate bluntly.

“What?”

“With you and Matty.”

They hadn’t discussed it much. Este only filled her in as it was happening, for those two days she spent at his house in London. Any further details she decided to keep to herself; though Cate caught her smiling down at her phone more than usual since they’d gotten back and could hear Matty’s muffled voice through the thin walls of their shared flat. Este started blushing.

“It’s pretty much the same, I think. Only difference is that we aren’t in denial anymore. And he’s seen my tits.”

They giggled together for a minute before Cate asked the inevitably naughty questions she’d been holding in for the past couple of days. Este felt like she was in school again, sharing parts of her sex life with her best friend like it was a forbidden topic.

“Well, I’m glad you both got over yourselves and just snogged already. It was about time.” Cate admitted after Este’s days over at Matty’s were described to her. “I like Matty.”

“So do I.” Este said, quickly cringing at how sappy it felt coming out of her mouth.

“Just be careful,” warned Cate, locking eyes with her flatmate. “I don’t want you to commit if he can’t.”

“We've spent almost a year becoming friends, Cate. It sort of feels deeper than just a ‘we’ve fucked so now let’s keep talking so we can do it again’ type thing. He talks to me like I’m his oldest friend. Like if I told him the worst news in the world he’d be glad to at least hear it coming from my mouth,” Este bit her lip nervously. “It’s weird, honestly. And scary. But maybe in a good way.”

The redhead nodded, understanding the emotion behind Este’s words and endeared at how seemingly perfect their connection sounded. But, their circumstance was far from it. And she knew that.

“That’s great, babe. I’m happy that it’s good. I just wanted to make sure you don’t pour your heart and soul into him while he stands on a stage doing the same for thousands of people around the world. A person’s only got so much love to give.”

9 >>

[cornflake2005]

Rivers Flow Through Empty Canyons Sometimes | Chapter 6

Read here or on AO3

River got to sleep comfortably for a few hours. Well not exactly comfortably, his whole body was sore from being shoved into a small bunk with someone else. He wasn’t going to complain though.

He looked down at the smaller water ghoul next to him, smiling softly at him. He was curled up and cuddled right into his chest, peacefully asleep. He could stay like this with him forever.

He did stay there with him for a while but he realized he was starting to get hungry. He knew he wouldn’t be getting food until they got back on the bus so he should eat now.

He had no clue how he did it but he managed to climb out from behind Rain and fully out of the bunk without waking up the other. However, as he headed towards the front of the bus, he noticed a certain fire ghoul glaring at him. He decided to just ignore him for now.

He got a sandwich out of the small fridge on the bus. He wanted to go and sit on the couch and eat in peace but when he turned around he was met with Dew standing right behind him and glaring into his soul.

He didn’t get a chance to say or do anything before he was shoved back against the fridge by the other. He involuntarily let out a whimper.

“You need to stay the hell away from Rain! He is MY mate! I don’t know what your intentions are but you need to stop!” Dew looked like he was ready to tear River to shreds. He tried to respond to him but then he was cut off with more yelling.

“I do not want to see you talking to him ever again! If you do, I will make sure you regret it! And if I catch him in your bunk again I will end you!” He took a step closer to River. River tried to back away but he was cornered.

“I’m not trying to do anything with rain! He’s trying to actually be my friend unlike you!” That was a whole lie but he was hoping Dew wouldn’t pick up on that. He should have known he would never be that lucky.

“YOU FUCKING LIAR” he tried to tackle River to the floor but he missed, giving River time to move away from him. When the other tried to tackle him again he was almost caught that time. He let out a warning growl at Dew. He really didn’t want to fight him but he would if he was forced to.

By that point, most of the other ghouls were peeking out of their bunks or from the back to see what was going on. He was about to get jumped at again but thankfully Aether had appeared from the back and grabbed ahold of Dew before he could.

The fire ghoul wasn’t done just yet though “I know you want to hit me. You just aren’t because your papa would punish you for trying to defend yourself. At least our papa cares about us”

That was what finally set River off. He tried to tackle Dew but that’s when he felt someone’s arms around him. It was Mountain. That didn’t stop him though. He was snarling and trying to get away “Let me go!”

He wasn’t going to let anyone shit talk his papa. Especially not someone like Dew. He almost got out of Mountain's grasp but now he was being dragged to the door. He only now realized that the bus had stopped moving.

He still fought against Mountain as he was dragged out but he stopped once they were outside. He saw that Nihil was already off the other bus so now he had to be on his best behavior now.

He took a few calming breaths and headed over to Nihil. He had to go into work mode now. He was enjoying getting to ‘relax’ away from Nihil but right now he was happy to be away from the other ghouls. He didn’t want to deal with their shit. Especially Dewdrops.

“Ah, here he is now. If you have anything to talk to me about, talk to him first” he could hear the disdain in Nihil's voice when he was mentioned. He had been talking to some venue staff when he made his way over. This was typical of Nihil, brushing off his responsibilities onto others to deal with.

He gave the crew members a small smile, forgetting that his mask was covering his whole face. Sometimes he forgot he was wearing it. It felt like a part of him at this point.

He knew this was going to be a long day. He would be following Nihil around all day, doing all of his work for him. He didn’t mind that though. He would do anything to help out his papa.

He spent the next few hours doing menial tasks. There wasn’t much he had to do. He was just finishing up signing some things for Nihil when he realized he was all alone. He set down the clipboard and started to look around for everyone.

It only took a few minutes to find him but he decided to stand right outside the door when he heard what they were talking about.

“River is.. well… he’s good at his job and he listens well. He’s just… he’s a little obsessive. It’s annoying. He’s one of the best I have but sometimes I wish he belonged to someone else. He’s a lot” Nihil sounded annoyed just talking about River.

River decided that maybe he shouldn’t go back to Nihil. The show had started at this point and it was almost time for him to go out anyways. He could easily avoid him until after the sax solo.

He decided to sit on one of the boxes in the wings and watch the rest of the ghouls perform. He missed performing. He only got to play a few shows before the ghost project was shelved the first time. They were performing Cirice at the moment which meant Miasma was next, and Nihil would get his moment in the spotlight. Thankfully, he was sitting on the opposite side of the stage from him.

He decided to watch Rain perform. He enjoyed just watching Rain but he was also picturing himself in his place. He wanted to perform again. All of these songs seemed like so much fun.

Before he knew it, the next song had started and he could see Nihil getting ready on the other side. He locked eyes with him for a moment and all he got was a glare. He averted his eyes to the floor. He wasn’t in the mood to be glared at.

He finally looked back up at Nihil when it was time for him to go back out on stage. He smiled as he watched him. He didn’t even care about what he had just overheard. He cared about his papa and he enjoyed seeing him happy.

He was going to stay where he was and enjoy the rest of the show but he watched Nihil as he almost collapsed after getting off stage. He hurried behind the stage and over to the other wing to him.

He didn’t even say anything to him. He just supported him and helped him into a chair backstage. It was at times like these when he wished he was a quintessence ghoul so that he could actually check in on how he was doing.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back out on stage again. You could get seriously hurt. You almost collapsed who knows what could happen ne-“ he was cut off by a hard slap to the face. He let out a loud whimper.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do! You understand that don’t you, ghoul!?” He was seething.

“Yes, papa…” he looked down. He was only trying to look out for Nihil’s health. He hadn’t done anything wrong… but he was still hurt for it. He didn’t understand why he was hurt so often. He was trying to be a good ghoul. A good… a good servant… in reality that’s all he was. He was just a servant to Nihil. But that didn't change how he felt about him. He still cared about him and he was still going to take care of him.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you tonight!” His anger was starting to show more. River just nodded. Now that he thought that Nihil was in a more okay state, he helped him up and out to the bus so he could lay down and rest.

He helped him into his bunk and waited on the bus until the rest of the crew filed in. He went back to his own bus at that point. He knew he wasn’t welcome in there. Once he was back on the other bus, he took his mask off. It felt suffocating at the moment. All of the other ghouls were already on the bus and he didn’t want to make himself more overwhelmed than needed.

He hadn’t realized it yet but there was a bruise forming on his cheek where he had been hit. He was looking for Rain to congratulate him for the good show but he didn’t go up to him once he found him. The other water ghoul looked over at him with a look of pity. He knew Rain had to have found out what happened. There was no way he hadn’t. He didn’t want to be pitied right now. That’s not what he needed.

He hurried to his bunk, hoping to make it in before Rain got to him. He could hear the other approaching behind him.

“Riv, wait. Please” he sounded concerned.

“Leave me alone” he climbed into his bunk and shut the curtain behind him. He was really hoping Rain would give it up and leave him alone.

“Please talk to me. What happened?” He had stopped right outside the bunk.

“Leave me alone Rain!” He felt awful as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to yell at Rain. He just kept fucking everything up.

He listened as the other’s footsteps left. He started to silently cry in his bunk. He didn’t know how to stop making mistakes like that. He was trying his hardest. He just wanted to be loved. He just wanted Rain to love him…

He was in love with Rain. But Rain was in love with Dew. There was no way they could be together. And now that Dew was jealous, there was no way he could even be close with rain.

If he had met Rain in the pit, even if he was with Dew, he knew he would’ve stood a chance. He was different before he was summoned. Being summoned changed him. He was forced to be something he hated. He was forced to hurt the ones he loved and cared about in order to even be acknowledged by his summoner… his owner…

He was spiraling now. The only thing that pulled him from his thoughts was the sound of two ghouls right outside his bunk. He had no clue how much time had passed but by the sounds of it, everyone else was asleep.

“I don’t want you around River anymore.” It was Dew and he sounded upset.

“Why not?” The other ghoul was Rain “What if I want to be friends with him? We’ve all treated him like shit. Don’t you think he deserves to have someone be nice to him for once?”

“We’ve treated him like shit because that’s exactly how he treats us. And he doesn’t want to be your friend, Rainy.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do. He’s trying to manipulate you. He wants to fuck you. He wants to take you away from me!”

“He’s not going to do that. And why would it matter if we fucked? We have an open relationship. Or is it only an open relationship when you want to fuck someone other than me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck… I guess you weren’t here when it happened. Look, before you were summoned he somehow convinced Terzo to sleep with him and they were a thing. But he used it to get… information out of him. It took years to get it out of him but he brought that Information back to Nihil and that’s why all the papas are dead now. They’re dead because of him. I don’t want something happening to you because of him…”

“He’s not going to hurt me…”

He heard one of the two walk away. He started to cry again but this time it was harder to stay quiet. He was upset, of course. He couldn’t believe that Dew would say something like that.

Dew wasn’t completely wrong. He had slept with Terzo on many occasions and he had gotten information out of him but that had nothing to do with the deaths of the other papas. He didn’t understand why Dew would lie like that. And that’s all he thought about until he cried himself to sleep.

[cherrywoodmaeg]

Shortcut, Pt. 10

Last chapter had the worst cliffhanger. Good thing I didn't disappear for no reason leaving all three (3) of you readers hanging.

Anyways, I'm thankful that some of you reached out. I have no intention of abandoning this story, and I have a few more chapters ready to be released.

Lots of love!

A long way home

Jon had absolutely no idea where he was. The trees around him grew high and only scarcely allowed the sun to shine through. Upon waking up, he had found himself without his coat, lying on the mossy ground, covered in mud and wet.

A dull headache began to form behind his forehead. Where the hell am I? Where is Niphka?

Jon groaned and ran his hands over his face. He only vaguely remembered the past night and tried to get the impressions it had left into the right order.

We had a chat, I went to sleep, and then –

It dawned on him.

The ship.

His dreaming state had transported him back onto the HMS Triumph, back into that room with Gregson and Doyle, back into the water, without air, without a chance of survival, until…

Niphka.

Jon remembered the panic blinding him as his mind was stuck between sleep and consciousness. He remembered running. He remembered falling. And then, nothing.

“What have I done?”

Jon tried calling for Niphka. He cried her name until his voice grew hoarse and his throat yearned for water. Despite his protesting ankle, Jon staggeringly began to walk. If he wanted to survive, sitting around wouldn’t do him any good.

After travelling with his giant companion, Jon’s own speed seemed agonizingly slow. When the sun began to hide behind clouds, he could only guess how much time passed. Eventually, Jon stumbled across a rocky road meandering through the woods. It was really more of a desire path, but it left him with a dilemma: left or right?

Before he could make his choice though, he heard something.

“Niphka?” he yelled, barely daring to hope.

“Hello?”

Someone had answered, but Jon didn’t recognize the voice. He took a few steps toward where he presumed its source. As the path bent, he was confronted with a new scene.

A chaise lay in the ditch, one of its large wheels broken. A white pony stood nearby peacefully gnawing on a twig. And on top the damaged carriage sat a very angry woman, who, upon seeing him, jumped off and stomped towards him.

“Perfect! You!” She pointed her finger at Jon, who came to a halt in confusion.

“Tell me you saw them!”

Jon had no idea what she was talking about.

“Don’t just stand around, man! You’ll be my witness!”

Despite her robust leather soles, she was a lot smaller than Jon. Nevertheless, her determination and her strong voice made her a force to be reckoned with, as Jon was about to find out. She looked young, barely of age, and wore her honey blonde hair in a braided knot. Rogue strands had fallen out at several places and made her appearance worn. Her orange and yellow clothes were cut like a hunter’s vest and trousers, but the embroidery on it as well as the ornaments on the carriage revealed that she came from money.

“Witness to what?”

She merely groaned.

Jon grew annoyed. “Look, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”

She flopped herself down next to the intact wheel of her chaise.

“If you didn’t see those idiots shoving me off the street, you’re useless to me.”

Jon ignored her grouse and walked past to stroke the pony.

“What’s his name?”

“That’s Ferdi. And since you’re asking so politely, I’m Ida.”

“Jon” he responded without looking at her. His interest had wandered over to the broken wheel.

“Why are you half-naked?”

Jon sighed. “Long story.”

She shrugged. “Well, you wear whatever you want. Or don’t.” Ida got on her feet and pulled a wooden box out of her chaise’s seat.

“Want to share lunch?” The piece of bread she waved at him seemed like the most delicious thing in the world. Jon sat beside her and dug his teeth into it. It was dry, but he could barely restrain himself from devouring it all at once.

“Eat like a person, man. When’s the last time you’ve had something?”

Her sceptical eyes scanned him up and down.

“Are you a vagabond or something?”

“’M trying t’get home,” he responded between chews.

“And where’s that?”

“M’llershby.”

That only made her suspicion rise.

“On foot?”

Jon swallowed his last bite.

“Do you like to interrogate people for fun?”

“Lots of strange people around.” She wiped her hands on her clothes.

“Well, at least I have this piece of evidence so I can get those idiots a proper prosecution for their offense on traffic law.” She pulled a dirty green jacket from the carriage.

“Hey, that’s my coat!” Jon yelled in surprise.

“You can’t have it back. It’s evidence.”

Jon nearly rolled his eyes.

“Alright, Ida. If I can repair your chaise, will you give me my coat back?”

She looked at him in surprise. and then gave him her hand to shake.

“I’ll tell you what, Jon: If you repair that pile of chaos, I will not only give you your coat back, I will actually pay you.” And she added, “If you don’t mess it up.”

Now, Jon almost had to laugh. “Deal!”

Part 9 < Part 10 > Part 11

[berenwrites]

Beyond the Battle - Chapter 17 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Beyond the Battle­: Action & Consequence

Click here for All Posted Chapters

Summary: Steve hits things with a bat or gets hit depending on who you ask. He definitely does not have anything to do with the psychic stuff. That is El’s domain. However, as Vecna is defeated, the rules change.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Other Relationships: Steve & Robin, Steve & Dustin, Eddie & Dustin

Rating: Teen

A/N: Multi-chapter story, updated regularly. Honestly not sure how many chapters it will have yet because it's still a bit hand wavy in the middle, but definitely more than 12. Thank you to my beta for find my mistakes and to all those who read/like/reblog.💖 Follow #st:beyond-the-battle for updates.

Also on AO3

Chapter 17.    From Outside

Waking up to a banging on the front door was not how Steve expected his morning to go. Sunlight was flooding through the window where the blinds and curtains were open, and Eddie was curled up beside and half over him. All in all, it made him smile. Then the banging came again and distracted him.

“What the hell?” Eddie asked, peering at him in a barely awake manner.

He looked positively adorable with his curls in a wild mess.

“I think we slept in,” Steve said, glancing at the clock on the side and seeing it read 9:53.

He was a little amazed. That he had managed to sleep again after the nightmare was not as unusual as it once had been, but that he had slept so long and so peacefully was. The banging returned.

“I better go and answer that,” he said, reluctantly separating from Eddie.

Eddie whined and buried his face in the pillow Steve had just vacated, which was all kinds of cute. Shaking his head at how far gone he clearly was, Steve headed downstairs, running his fingers through his hair. He opened the door to find Robin on his doorstep.

“About time,” she said, waltzing straight past him.

“You have a key,” Steve pointed out, yawning, and rubbing one eye.

“Didn’t want to walk in on anything,” Robin replied.

“All you’d have seen was some first-rate cuddling,” he said.

“Oh my,” Robin said, looking at him with one of her analytical expressions that slowly broke into a smile, “you’ve got it bad. You should see the dopy smile on your face.”

“Thank you so much for your insightful analysis, Doctor Robin,” he responded in his best bitchy tone, not that he could really deny it.

His best friend snorted a laugh at him.

“Awww, Stevie is in wuv,” she said.

He could feel the blush spreading up his face as he totally failed to reply to that.

“Oh my god, you are,” Robin said, dropping the teasing tone.

“I… um… I don’t know,” he stuttered.

He’d only been in love once and he’d fallen hard and fast. It had ripped his heart out when Nancy had told him it was all bullshit, not that he really blamed her. Being older and wiser he could see it from her point of view as well. Not that it changed how he had felt, however. He’d only had Eddie back a couple of days, only really known him for a week before that. He was almost sure he was still in the falling stage, but now Robin had said it, he couldn’t ignore it was happening.

“Deep breath, Dingus,” Robin said, placing a hand on his arm.

“He played and sang Bridge Over Troubled Water for me last night after I had a nightmare,” he confessed as the warmth of the memory curled through his chest.

“Eddie knows Bridge Over Troubled Water?” Robin asked, eyebrows raising.

“Hidden depths,” he said, “but not really the point. I had a nightmare, a bad one, he played me music, we fell asleep and didn’t wake up until you banged on the door.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Robin replied, because she knew him almost as well as he knew himself. “Still happy for you, Steve,” she said, giving him a big smile, “but if you need to freak out, you always know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” he said.

He had a lot to think about it seemed.

“So that means you haven’t had breakfast yet then?” Robin asked and broke him out of his reverie.

“It’s always food with you,” he complained.

“Like you don’t love feeding people,” she said. “Chop, chop, go rouse that metalhead boyfriend of yours, I fancy French Toast this morning.”

“Do you not have food at your house?” he griped, even as he headed towards the stairs.

“You expect me to make my own breakfast when I have you, my devoted, platonic soulmate to do it for me?” she made a dismissive noise. “Are you kidding?”

“Oh, of course,” he replied as he began to climb, “how could I have been so dumb?”

“I don’t know, how could you?” came the immediate response. “Be quick or I may have to root around in your cupboards for snacks.”

“Robin, do not touch my cupboards … Robin,” but it was too late, she was already disappearing into the kitchen.

He resigned himself to coming back down to chaos, since Robin was clearly in one of those moods. However, he couldn’t really focus on that because he had bed-head Eddie to look forward to back in his room. Robin could wait for a little, while he enjoyed waking up his boyfriend properly. They hadn’t actually discussed what they were officially, but he was pretty sure the whole midnight music and cuddling all night thing gave him the right to at least think it.

~*~

The walkie crackled into life while Steve was loading the dishwasher. Eddie had offered, but the dishwasher had a few quirks, it probably needed replacing, so Steve had politely declined to do it himself.

“Code M, repeat Code M, over,” came through loud and clear in Lucas’ voice.

“What’s code M?” Eddie asked.

“Max,” Robin said, standing up and walking over to where the device was on the side.

“Ears on, over,” Dustin’s voice responded almost instantly.

“Ears on here,” Will said with others in the background. and Mike replied shortly as well.

“Ears on at Steve’s,” Robin added.

“Guys,” Lucas told them excitedly, “I just spoke to Max’s mom, they’re transferring Max back to Hawkins General today. Over.”

“That’s awesome,” came from Dustin, because of course Dustin was first. “Does that mean we’ll finally be able to visit her? Over.”

“Yeah,” Lucas replied. “I asked and her mom said she’d like that. It sucks they wouldn’t let us before. Over”

“Yeah,” Mike added.

The hospital Max had been evacuated to had been overcrowded thanks to the emergency so only immediate family members had been allowed to visit patients. It had caused quite a ruckus among the party when they had not been permitted to go straight away. Only Hopper putting his foot down firmly had stopped a minor invasion anyway.

“Look, I have to run, Mom has me cleaning the garage. Max’s mom said they probably won’t be here until late afternoon. We should talk later. Over,” Lucas said.

“El says we’ll come rescue you later. Over.” Will promised with a laugh.

“Thanks, Guys. Over and out,” Lucas said.

There followed a few moments of everyone else signing off. Steve finished the dishwasher and closed it, before glancing over at Eddie who looked back in a way that had him believing Eddie knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Okay, what’s that look for?” Robin asked, fixing Steve with one of her penetrating stares.

“I can help Max,” he said, going with the simple truth.

“Steve, while I appreciate you are willing to risk yourself for others, you don’t know that,” Robin said.

“No, I do,” he told her. “I can help her.”

“How are you so sure?” his best friend asked.

He shared another glance with Eddie.

“Because I did it for Hopper,” he confessed.

“You what? When?” she demanded.

“Last night,” Eddie provided for him, “after everyone else left. Seems they conspired when none of us were looking.”

“I didn’t quite finish, but he’s mostly fixed,” Steve said. “It was different than what I did for you and Dustin, and Eddie, but I think that had more to do with the Void … um … anyway, I can do it.”

“You convinced Hopper to let you by bringing up Max, didn’t you?” Robin said, giving him an exasperated look.

She knew him far too well. Maybe they really did share a brain sometimes.

“Yes,” he replied, wincing a little at the way she glared at him.

Eddie laughed, because apparently his pain was funny.

“You are unbelievable,” she scolded him, shaking her head. “You couldn’t even give yourself a few days to rest and recuperate?”

“I don’t think it quite works that way,” he said.

“Then explain it to me,” Robin said, “because I’m really beginning to worry, okay?”

He walked over and sat in the chair next to her.

“Sorry,” he told her, doing his best to organise his thoughts because he did want those he cared about to understand. “When I healed Hopper, it needed more than me just speeding up his body’s normal healing, because some of it was damage that had already healed wrong. I had to think about it differently and I kind of saw what I was doing.”

“You visualised it?” Robin asked.

He nodded.

“There’s like a pool of energy in me,” he continued. “It’s bright, metallic, and it didn’t get smaller when I used it, it got duller. With Hop I could feel when it was time to stop, so I did. But as soon as I, well, refuelled I supposed…”

“I made a stack of grilled cheese,” Eddie offered.

“It got brighter again. I was still tired, but I could have gone straight back in if I needed to,” he explained.

“You were tired because you’d been concentrating hard for over two hours,” Eddie said.

Steve shrugged, that seemed about right.

“So, you’re saying as long as you eat, this reservoir inside of you keeps getting recharged, and you just have to deal with the stress you’ve put yourself through physically by focussing so hard, not how much energy you used for the actual healing?” Robin summarised.

“Yes, I think so,” he replied. “Healing Hopper was harder because it was mostly active, I had to make it happen like chasing down another player and stealing the ball. Healing you and Dustin was easy because I didn’t have to push it as much, like going through the motions on a learned play. And Eddie, well…”

“Involved Upside Down shit, so all bets are off,” Eddie finished for him.

“Okay, sports metaphors aside, I think I get it,” Robin said. “But what about pushing too hard? It happened to El, couldn’t it happen to you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “It’s not the same as making things move, that feel harsher, wrong, at least to me, but I do still get the nosebleeds.”

Robin pursed her lips.

“I think I would know though,” he added before she could say anything. “If I was crossing that line, I think I’d know.”

“I wish that was comforting,” Robin said, shaking her head, “but I’ve seen you step right across lines just like that more than once.”

“I try not to,” was the best he could do as an apology.

“Ugh!” Robin threw her hands into the air.

“And there’s also the question of how are you going to heal Max without the government finding out?” Eddie added. “I assume you don’t want them to know yet.”

Steve sagged, he hadn’t thought of that. He knew sooner or later they were going to have to come clean about him and Will with Owens at the very least, but he’d much rather it was later given that there were factions in the government that had tried very hard to kill El.

“Well, that’s easy,” Robin said, much to his surprise.

“It is?” he asked.

“Yes,” she told him, “we just pretend it is El doing it.”

“I thought you were against this?” Eddie pointed out.

“I am against Steve hurting himself,” Robin replied, “not against the idea in principle. Max is one of ours, if we can help, we should, I just want to make sure Dingus here, doesn’t go running in exploding his brain.”

“Did you watch Scanners again?” Steve asked at her choice of phrase.

“No, I’m still scarred from the first time,” she said and gave him the how-dare-you look.

“I liked that movie,” Eddie said.

“You would,” was Robin’s cutting reply. “Does anyone else know about you healing Hopper?”

He shook his head.

“Well, I expect Joyce does by now,” Eddie commented.

“He wasn’t going to tell her yet,” Steve countered.

“Yeah, but you saw the scar on his neck, right?” Eddie said. “The one that looks like it might have been from a knife or a claw?”

Steve shook his head, he hadn’t noticed that one.

“It looks a lot like ours now,” Eddie revealed. “And Joyce is not a stupid woman, so she’s going to put two and two together, especially if he’s hiding more under his clothes.”

The mental image that conjured in Steve’s head made him wrinkle his nose.

“You just thought of Joyce and Hopper getting naked too, didn’t you?” Robin said very unhelpfully.

“Yep,” he replied, “and it’s like admitting my parents have sex.”

“With you on that one,” Robin agreed, which Eddie found hilarious if his grin was anything to go by. “Moving swiftly on.”

“Sounds like we need another planning meeting,” Eddie said. “That’s if Joyce and Hopper aren’t busy getting their grove on.”

“I hate you,” Robin yelled and put her fingers in her ears, la-ing loudly.

Eddie all but fell off his chair, cackling.

End of Chapter 17

Chapter 18

[bobathirstaccount]

AU - Business Trip Pt 2

You meet the new sales exec at a company offsite…

Boba x fem!reader, no smut (yet)

***

You woke up bright and early. Curious if Boba would be around, you went to breakfast as soon as it began, 6am sharp. Hardly anyone else was there yet. You got a big plate of food and some coffee and ate peacefully. People started showing up, but there was no sign of Boba or anyone else that you knew. You were about to go back up to your room until the first session, but then you saw him. Trying to be casual about it, you beelined to Boba.

He was chatting with the pretty blonde from the night before. You tried to ignore that. He smiled at you, “Good morning.”

Returning his smile, you nodded. The blonde continued, “Well anyway, can’t wait for our lunch meeting, Boba.”

“Same,” he nodded at her. She took the cue and went to enter the buffet line.

“You’re welcome to join us too, you know,” he commented.

Flustered, you responded, “Oh.” You paused awkwardly before adding, “Thanks.”

He nodded, “Anyway, I’m gonna get in line. See you at lunch.” You watched him walk away. Hoping no one saw, you retreated to your room.

***

You watched the pretty blonde sit next to Boba. She leaned in to tell him something private. You were inappropriately annoyed. You looked away before it could ruin your mood totally.

“Oooh, so how’s it going with your love interest, Mr. Head of Sales,” your bestie whispered at you. Startled, you whipped your head in her direction. “Omigosh, you scared me!” You whispered back, “And…. It’s…uh… going?” You realized you’d said too much and clammed up.

She pried, “You can’t stop now. I’m too intrigued.” She nudged you playfully.

“Oh. Well.” You were torn.

Suddenly she was discreetly squeezing your hand. Under her breath, she said, “He’s looking at you.”

You got hot, “Okay so, let’s act normal. Okay. So. He and that blonde next to him are having lunch together. But - he also invited me. What do you think about that?”

”I think he’s got a hottie that’s after him, and he’s busy checking you out.” You got even hotter. “Uh,” you said nervously. She smiled, but didn’t forget to play it cool. “So anyway, I’m totally going to lunch with you. I’ll run interference on Miss Beauty Pageant.”

You snorted a laugh, but made yourself frown at her, “That’s not very nice.”

She shrugged, “You’re my bestie, not her.”

You grinned at her and squeezed her hand back. “Well, it’s still not very nice…”

The two of you stopped talking abruptly. The CEO had started speaking to the crowd. Everyone respectfully settled down. You glanced at Boba one more time before focusing. He was waiting for his boss to speak. The blonde shot you a weird look, then settled in as well. You tried to not let it irrationally irritate you.

***

His foot touched yours under the table. At least, you were pretty sure it was his foot. True to her word, your friend had shown up to lunch extremely chipper and talkative. She was engaging ‘Miss Beauty Pageant’ at every conversation point she could.

Glancing in Boba’s direction, you risked nudging the foot back. He smiled and looked over at you for just a second. Then he returned his focus to the conversation at hand. Your friend was still masterfully controlling it. Boba turned back to you, “So, what’re you doing between our last session and dinner? I was thinking we could go to the bar again. I have another whiskey I want you to try; I think you’ll like this one.”

You smiled, feeling hot and fluttery. “Okay, well we’ll see I guess. You wanna meet right after session?”

”Sure, why not?”

“Oh, that sounds so fun!” Miss BP broke free of your friend’s conversational grasp. Boba turned to them both, “Of course, you’re both welcome to join. It’ll be a little mixer between sales and finance.”

“Sounds great!” You and your friend exchanged a very brief glance before stating your ‘excitement.’

***

It ended up that most of the sales team was there at the bar. They had heard their new boss was drinking and, presumably, wanted to bond further with him over some non work activity.

Boba graciously bought a round for everyone. As a finance person, you immediately began calculating the cost. He turned to you, “Stop trying to add it up. I can tell, your eyes have glazed over a little bit. C’mon, human calculator, try this whiskey.” He pushed the glass towards you a bit. Smiling at his light teasing, you took a slightly bigger sip than you should have. You started coughing. It was very Hot in your mouth and throat. And very strong - you could feel it going to your head as you recovered from your coughing fit. Wiping away your tears, you watched as the blonde also tried the whiskey.

“Ohh, so warm and smooth,” she leaned in towards Boba. “I really like it.”

”Oh good, I’m glad to have introduced you to a very expensive habit.” He casually took a drink while she laughed.

“Get another one to try. For team building,” your friend chimed in. You glanced at her, unsure of her motives.

Boba nodded, “Let me think… Let’s go with my next favorite whiskey.” He motioned the bartender over. She smiled at him while she took his order. You wondered how much this one added to the bill as she poured three fingers.

Pushing the glass towards you, he said, “You first, so you stop worrying about the cost.” You laughed nervously as you tried the third whiskey. This one was less terrible, you decided. Boba shrugged at your opinion, “Okay - so we’re going in the right direction here.” He politely offered the glass to Miss BP. She took a big sip, “Oooh, very nice.”

She continued speaking, very obviously to Boba only. But you were too distracted by the hand that had landed on your knee to process the sounds coming out of her mouth.

“Say, we should try a new category. What about gin?” You had tried several gins you’d found acceptable. The blonde stopped talking abruptly, having been interrupted. Boba chimed in, sounding casual, “Not a gin person. Let’s try your favorite.”

You got hot for a second, but luckily the name popped into your head right away. “Gordon’s!” You exclaimed.

Boba called the bartender over again as Miss Beauty Pageant commented, “Surely we can try something classier! I used to drink that when I was 16 and it was all I could afford.” She laughed.

Boba shrugged, “That’s really young to be drinking…”

Your friend shot you an amused look as Miss BP sputtered a response. You ignored her, as the glass of Gordon’s had arrived. Boba took the first sip, this time.

“Oh, nice,” he said warmly, “I’d have this again.” He threw back the rest of it. Someone on his team noticed and started hooting about him throwing back shots. Boba put his hands up. “Just the one,” he said to the crowd, who laughed and cheered him on to do another one. “No, no, one was more than enough,” he said with finality.

***

”Okay, absolutely no more,” Boba said after another shot. The team whined. “I have to present to you guys and ladies tomorrow, you know,” he said congenially. You smiled at his demeanor.

The team bought him another shot anyway. He sat with it in front of him. He was in a pickle. You shot your friend a look and found her giving you a meaningful wink. You rescued him and hurriedly grabbed the glass. Chugging it, you snorted, “Omigosh, they were trying to poison you!”

The team laughed as someone yelled, “That was $250 you just drank!”

After promising the bartenders and security they’d be quiet, the sales team settled back at their seats. You saw Boba yawn.

”Past your bedtime?” You winked at him, feeling definitely Not Sober.

“Yeah. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow’s another one.” He stood. He made the rounds to say his goodnights. Your rival attached herself when he left. They walked off together, chatting easily. Your bestie poked you in the ribs. “What are you waiting for! Grab the same elevator.” She pushed you off the barstool too hard, causing you to nearly fall. But she had a good idea. Without turning back, you heeded her advice and headed to the back of the lobby. You turned the corner just in time to make eye contact with Boba. The doors closed as you saw him try to stop them by button mashing. But it was too late. He was alone with Miss BP.

Instead of returning to the bar with news of failure, you texted it as you waited for the next elevator up.

-ok so like

-u have his #📱

-so def text him sumthin

You considered.

-what tho?

You returned.

She countered.

-literralllly anything

-i’m finishing this 🍹 then goingt o bed

-im def at my limit

You laughed, but reminded.

-be careful and mindful ok? <3

-btw if u think of something to text him lmk; idk what to

By the time you had gotten back to your room and the door closed behind you, she had text back.

-ok. going2 room. txt 🌶 2 him night luv u

You considered as you wished her a good night and reminded her to take some Ibuprofen. You grabbed some for yourself. You took a hot shower, then checked yourself out in the full length mirror in the bedroom. You took a couple selfies. Hm. No, it was too much. Was it? Definitely. This was work. Work, you reminded yourself harshly. But yet… he had put his hand on your knee at drinks, and had also played footsie at lunch. But was that all just harmless flirting? Your phone buzzed.

-hey. wanted to say goodnight and thx for introducing me 2 that gin hope u liked the whiskey a little 🥃

You grinned. Then you looked at your selfies again. Hm. You got another text.

-also. what ⏰ are you eating breakfast?

You text back neutrally.

-idk depends on if im hungover 😵

-lol ok lmk tomorrow morning ill c u then 😊🫂

You got giddy. You edited one of your selfies a bit giving it a subtle vignette and increasing the vibrance a bit. Having some sense of decorum, you blurred your nips and bikini area. Without letting yourself think, you sent the photo.

-[image]

-if u wanna c uncensored… i hope u remember my room #

There was a few minutes of silence. You freaked out. What had you just done? You started to feel mortified.

-i do

You waited for more of a reply. What did that mean?? He wanted to see you uncensored, or that he remembered your room? Both? Neither? You panicked again.

Suddenly a noise startled you. You jumped up, your phone slipping out of your hands. You stood stock still. What had it been? The TV? You eyed it suspiciously. Then you heard an unmistakable knock at your door. You put two and two together and remained frozen, unable to move out of anxiety and surprise. Was it really Boba?? Your Hot Guy?

Suddenly you grew bold. You ran to the door butt naked and peered through the peephole. Shakily, you undid the extra locks and opened the door a crack.

[namig42]

Heeeeeey, part 2 about Lazlow! Please enjoy!

Lazlow (Ch.2)

< Previous chapter Next Chapter >

Read it on Ao3

TWs in the tags

Summary: Lazlow's story and life before being abducted by the nautiloid.

---

It had been an excruciatingly rough six hours for Lazlow. After everything, he was now asleep in his mistress’s arms with eyes wide open. His head was nestled in the crook of her neck and she kept an arm around his torso, making sure he didn’t go anywhere.

While she peacefully slept and snored, Lazlow was wide awake. His mind was racing while recounting everything that had just happened over the course of the night. There had been certain objects, some of them even magical, that Santra called her “toys.” She hit him with some and had him insert himself into others until the sensations were too much and he was begging for it to stop. The magical ones would shake, pulse, or vibrate, and it terrified Lazlow when they were brought close to him.

The mistress touched him all over, gently and rough, eliciting all sorts of noises from him that seemed to excite her more and more. She snapped the straps of his lingerie for hours until she finally pulled his bottoms off, then rode him in all sorts of positions. Sitting up, lying down, he was her obedient throne for the evening.

Despite all the stimulation though, Lazlow did not come once during the six hour stint. His mistress rode him for a good hour and tried to force him to finish inside her, but he just couldn’t do it. There was so much happening, so many sensations coursing through him, and he was scared. He wanted to be home inside his closet and bring some light into his life. He tried to follow Sylvan’s advice and think of something he liked, but he struggled to think of anything as the sensitivity in his lower half flared from a strange, foreign sensation into a painful one.

Then suddenly, in the midst of everything, that little wink Sylvan left him with came back and Lazlow felt something stir inside himself in the mix of everything happening. He tried to focus on that new, warm feeling in his stomach and the thought of Sylvan’s handsome face, but it just wasn’t enough to make up for how roughly his mistress took him, nearly slamming herself down on top of him.

She had been frustrated with him towards the end, but she was so satisfied in every other regard that she thought it fine to let it slide for just one night. “Instead, make use of that practiced tongue of yours,” she commanded when she tired of riding him. She pulled herself off of his lap and sat at the edge of the bed, pointing for Lazlow to kneel in between her feet. He slowly got up, trying to ignore the painful hardness in between his legs that just wouldn’t end, and did as she bade. Once on his knees, she grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face into her spread legs.

Though he had never done anything like this before, his tongue was thankfully lithe and dexterous enough to have his mistress finish in only a matter of moments. She had kept her hand on his head the whole time, gripping and petting his hair, and though the touch was still terrifying to him, it wasn’t so bad to what he had just endured.

When she had finished, she had moved to lie down properly and told Lazlow to join her. Once she comfortably had her arms around her new pet, she snapped her fingers and the curtains around the bed shut, leaving the two in pitch black.

Lazlow didn’t like being in the dark, and he didn’t like being in the arms of someone that confused him so much. Sometimes her touches were rough and mean, but then there were a few moments like this where they were soft and tender. He didn’t know what to make of his new mistress. She was a mystery and all he wanted now was something familiar.

How much longer would he have to wait for that room of his? How much longer until he could sing or brighten up this dark little cave he was trapped in?

Lazlow spent three days and three nights in that room before Santra finally tired of him and told him to go and wait until he was called on again. Over the days, there were more of those confusing touches, but also moments of welcome reprieve when his mistress was tired and asked him to sing for her. He sang all sorts of songs, mostly ballads and songs of love, and even one lewd song he remembered hearing his father sing one night after a bit too much wine. She was pleased with his songs, even applauding on occasion. She would rest or eat her meals as Lazlow performed for her, and when she was finished, she would tell Lazlow to come close once more, whether it was between her legs or underneath her, and they went on and on with her lustful desires.

After the first night, Lazlow waited for the moment where he would be released and given his place of solitude. When it never came, the anticipation began to eat at him with each passing hour. His mistress seemed to enjoy his company, more than he would’ve hoped, and she wouldn’t let him go. By the second night, Lazlow had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t ask when he may be excused. Bringing on her wrath may make it so he would never have a room of his own. Instead, he resisted his own temptation and gave into hers. By the third day, he had given up hope of ever leaving this room. He would stay in here for eternity as her little songbird that was there to please her every whim. He pushed off any thoughts of seeing his dancing lights again, deciding that hope would only prove to be a nuisance here.

Then, miraculously, she finally seemed satisfied enough and rang for someone new to come to the room. Lazlow felt his heart leap into his throat, hoping that he was finished here, but forced himself to stay calm. He was afraid to let that hope come crawling back to him after he had already resigned himself.

The one who arrived only moments later was Sylvan. He knocked at the door, waited for permission, then entered the room. He was unphased at the sight of Lazlow’s naked form as Lazlow sat up on the bed, but his eyes did linger. Lazlow’s lingerie had come apart somewhere on the second day, leaving him in an attractive state of disarray. When the door had opened, Lazlow froze in surprise before he scrambled to his feet to find the robe he had entered the room with. It took him a while of searching before he finally found it hidden under a mess of pillows on the floor. By the time he was finally wrapped in his silk, Sylvan had already gotten a good look at him. Lazlow blushed at the idea, unsure of whether or not the idea of Sylvan looking at him was a pleasant one or not.

“See him to his room,” the mistress commanded as she stood up and began to dress herself. “Prepare everyone for the caravan as well. We leave in two days.”

“Yes, mistress.” Sylvan said with a bow. He waved Lazlow to follow him out of the room and back towards the hall that they first walked through three days ago.

“Caravan?” Lazlow asked when they were safely in the hall and away from the mistress’s door. His mind still lingered on that embarrassing moment of Sylvan looking at him with those rich, pink eyes of his, but hopefully a change of subject would distract himself from thinking too much about it.

“Yes, the mistress often travels with the caravan, especially when going to the surface or other important destinations, and she likes to bring her harem along with her.”

“The surface?” Lazlow asked incredulously. He had never seen the surface. He heard stories from his sisters of scary monsters that roamed the wildlands, brutish humans and orcs that made entire settlements of savagery, and terrible lairs full of goblins and ghouls. Their horror stories were unlike the books he read, but he had no way of knowing the truth back then.

“Yes. I don’t know where we’ll be going this time, but we’ll all be going together. Enjoy your room while you can because we’ll all be sharing a coach while we travel.”

“Ah,” Lazlow said, a bit disappointed. “It’s no bother, I’m used to sharing a room.”

“Well then, that should make things easier,” Sylvan said. They turned left down a corridor and ended up in a circular room that was lined with six doors. There were three men sitting on pillows, two of them chatting with one another and the third casually reclining while reading a book.

“This is our own little space. When not serving the mistress, you are expected to remain here.”

“Okay,” Lazlow said absentmindedly, taking in the lavish little room. It wasn’t massive, but it was filled with fine furniture, pillows, rugs, a shelf full of books, and a small table of fruits that Lazlow had never seen before. The other three drow men looked at Lazlow with a hint of curiosity, then returned to what they were doing with no acknowledgement of him. Lazlow had tried to wave awkwardly, but none of them seemed interested in conversing with their newest member.

“This room is yours,” Sylvan said, leading Lazlow to the room on the far right. The tall, handsome man opened the door and led Lazlow in. It was small, only big enough for a small bed, a vanity, and a wardrobe, but it was like a mansion for Lazlow. It was bigger than the room he shared with his brothers back home, and most importantly, it was all his. This was his own little palace.

There was a black instrument case on the bed that Lazlow noticed quickly. “Is this… for me?”

“It seems so. The mistress had someone deliver it yesterday.”

Lazlow hesitantly looked at the case, nervous to touch it, but his curiosity got the best of him and he gently began to open it. Inside it was a new violin, carved finely with intricate details along the body and on the scroll. The wood of the bow was polished until it was exquisitely smooth, and the bow hair was made from spider silk that glowed a beautiful shade of white. Lazlow gently ran his hand over the silk, fascinated with such a fine instrument.

“You play?” Sylvan asked with a smile. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms casually crossed, taking in the sight of the bard.

“Yes…” Lazlow said with a smile. His own room, a new instrument. Maybe things wouldn’t be so terrible here after all. “Would you like a song?” he asked Sylvan.

“I’d love one,” the man said with a smile. Lazlow gingerly lifted the instrument out of the case and held the violin up to his shoulder. His head rested on the wood like his cheek was made for this instrument. The bow fit perfectly into his hand. His grip was so natural as he lifted it up and played the open strings.

The sound resonated through the small room and it was… different. It was lovely, but not the same warmth that Lazlow recalled from his old violin back home. That one had been cheaper, the wood not so sturdy and his bow hair coming undone over the years, but the warm resonance that came from that violin was so much more soothing than this one. Maybe it was the strings or the spider silk of the bow, maybe it was just because it was new and needed to be broken in. Maybe it just needed some love poured into it to create that warm sound that Lazlow had become so fond of.

He tuned the strings, then softly asked Sylvan with a smile, “any requests?”

“Hm… do you know Down by the River?”

Lazlow smiled, “of course! What kind of bard doesn’t know such a lovely song?”

Sylvan stood in the doorway and watched as Lazlow began to play. The small room turned into a fine stage, and without even thinking, Lazlow found himself smiling as he finally felt himself able to somewhat relax for the first time in days.

The little room didn’t leave much space for the sound to echo, but all the better for a more intimate sound. Lazlow’s eyes closed once more, feeling his fingers move across the strings as they had a hundred times before, and found himself feeling like he was home. It was a bit different, the sound still a bit changed, but he could envision the room where guests came and would listen to his songs. It was familiar again. He could feel himself breathe a little easier as he opened his mouth to sing, the words falling out of him without a thought in his mind.

When the song was done, Lazlow sighed in relief. He felt a bit more at peace than he had in a long time. Sylvan smiled and applauded once Lazlow lowered his violin. “Damn, that was lovely. I see why the mistress was eager to have you.”

Lazlow smiled and blushed a bit at the praise. “Thank you.” He liked Sylvan’s smile.

“Hey, just between us,” Sylvan said as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Lazlow was a bit caught off guard and his heart skipped another beat. Sylvan took another step closer and placed that warm, friendly hand of his on Lazlow’s shoulder. “If you ever need someone to talk to about this place, I’m happy to help. It can be a lot for a newbie, especially one as young as you. I’ve been here long enough to know how things are run, so just come to me if you’re ever feeling a bit lost or need anything, okay?”

Lazlow swallowed the rock in his throat and felt his blue face flush so dark it almost turned black. Sylvan was very close to him now, and that hand sent an electrifying pulse through him. He nodded his head while trying to hide how flustered he was. “Yes, sure, thank you!”

Sylvan winked at him and patted his shoulder. “No problem, cutie.” He took his hand away and moved back to the door. As he opened it, he looked back at Lazlow one more time. “My room is two doors over. Feel free to come find me anytime.”

“Right, sure…” Lazlow said with that same flustered grin. Sylvan left him with another dashing smile before closing the door behind him.

Lazlow’s eyes were wide as he stood in shock. What was that? What was this feeling? He had to put the violin and bow back in the case before he dropped them to the floor in his surprise. Once they were safe, Lazlow himself fell to the floor and curled into a ball, his back resting against his bed frame.

He was flustered and confused, but not confused in the way he was with his mistress. This confusion felt more lively in his stomach, almost like fairies dancing around on his intestines.

He needed something to focus on, something to take his mind off of all the emotions from the past few days. He looked to the center of his dim room and realized that there was no need to crawl into a closet anymore. He could do as he pleased in here. He was safe in here. With just a few words and a twirl of his hand, Lazlow cast dancing lights right there in the center of his room and watched those familiar white balls of light float around. The illumination made him smile, and before he knew it, his brother’s face popped into his head.

Theo… right. He didn’t know if he’d ever see him again. The lights began to move quicker, flurrying around like all the thoughts in Lazlow’s head. His brother, Sylvan, the mistress, there was so much to think about. Fear, grief, excitement, terror, so many things came and went from his mind. The exhaustion hit him all at once now that he finally had a moment to himself. He had barely been able to rest in the mistress’s room, too terrified of whatever the hell was to come next, but now, curled up on the floor, Lazlow felt his eyes grow heavy and finally drifted into a trance right there. He rested peacefully for the first time in days, thankful for no visions or nightmares to interrupt his much needed trance.