#it feels like i slept rather poorly

[outfoxt]

today is feeling like a monster kind of day

[lolliichop]

i will attempt to write a few info about the characters and perhaps make rules and pinned better than what they are now, and a taglist wouldn't hurt ( even if i'm starting to be very sleepy, damn it... ), but in the meantime, behold.

i made a few icons.

[lovelookspretty]

waking up to you

au!rafe cameron x reader

— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

warnings: alcohol, swearing, 18+ smut (poorly written), p in v, fingering, orgasm denial / control, praising, impact play, choking, drunk sex, just a bunch of stuff

authors note: guys 😞😞 i havent slept yet n its 8am okay see u today ! xo

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sarah walks over with a few drinks, weaving through the crowd and handing them out like she’s done this a hundred times. she’s balancing a faint smile, her eyes flicking around the backyard as she approaches, as if she’s trying to relax but can’t fully settle.

kiara’s on your other side, and even though the party is in full swing, she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. her expression is tight, her shoulders hunched like she’s holding back from showing how uncomfortable she is.

you don’t blame her. knowing kiara’s character, it’s not surprising that a rafe cameron party isn’t exactly her scene.

“i tried to find the least threatening drinks in all that crap rafe brought tonight,” sarah says, her voice low as she hands you and kiara cups. the corners of her mouth twitch upward in a forced smile, like she’s joking but there’s truth behind it.

you take your cup, grimacing as you look inside. the liquid sloshes around in the dim light, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of concoction sarah managed to scrounge up from rafe’s wild assortment.

you lean back against the brick half-wall, feeling the cool stone press against your spine. sarah settles in beside you, her shoulder brushing yours, and kiara hoists herself up onto the wall on your other side, holding her drink with one hand, but she doesn’t take a sip. not yet.

the three of you stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s strange—this moment of quiet in the middle of all the chaos—but it also feels grounding. like, for the first time all day, you’re not just a spectator, not just someone on the outside looking in. you’re here, with them. part of their group. part of this world.

you glance around the backyard, watching the laughter, the reckless dancing, the drinks being poured and spilled. it’s wild, a mess in its own way, but there’s a freedom in it too.

in a strange way, it feels like you could belong here. like you could get used to moments like this. parties won’t happen every night, but this sense of connection? that could be something real. something that lasts.

you absently take a sip of your drink, the alcohol burning as it slides down your throat. it’s harsher than you expected, and you wince, trying to shake off the bitterness.

but then something else hits you, something harder. the truth. it slips into your mind like the sting of the alcohol, sharp and undeniable.

you’re leaving after tonight.

the party, the people, the wild energy—it’s all temporary. by the time the sun rises, you’ll be back in your own reality, where none of this exists. where none of these people know you.

you pause, your hand tightening around the cup, your mind wandering as you take another drink. you lean back against the wall, staring at the scene in front of you. it was fun while it lasted, but this isn’t your world. at least not really.

and it hits you. it’s been fun. but not enough.

you pull away from the wall, standing a little taller, turning to face sarah and kiara. they look at you, maybe a little curious about the shift in your expression, the sudden spark in your eyes. you’re not thinking about tomorrow anymore. you’re thinking about right now.

“let’s just get fucked up tonight,” you say, a grin pulling at your lips. because if this is your last night here, if this is the end of your wild, unexpected adventure in this world—then you're going to make the most of it.

sarah grins as soon as the words leave your mouth. her eyes light up with a wild sort of excitement, and she’s immediately on board. “hell yeah. let’s do it,” she says, already for raising her cup and preparing to take a bigger sip.

but when you glance over at kiara, you see the hesitation written all over her face. she’s fidgeting with her drink, her shoulders hunched in that same way, a small, reluctant shrug as she stares down at the liquid.

“i don’t know, guys,” she mutters, “i don’t know.” it’s clear she’s not feeling it, the party vibe or the idea of letting loose like that. but you and sarah? you’re not letting her off that easy.

“come on, kie, it’ll be fun,” you say, your voice soft but insistent, leaning in a little as if coaxing her into something harmless.

sarah jumps in without missing a beat, her energy contagious. “just for tonight!” she adds, almost laughing, because she knows kiara isn’t the type to get wasted or go wild in a place like this, but that’s exactly why she wants her to let go for once.

kiara lets out a small, reluctant laugh, shaking her head slightly, but there’s a spark in her eyes now, like maybe she’s considering it, even if it’s just for a second.

you and sarah exchange a quick look, a knowing glance before you both grab her arms, pulling her along before she can protest any further.

“come on, kie!” you say, laughing as you tug her toward the chaos of the party. sarah’s on the other side, matching your pace, pulling her with the same enthusiasm.

you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the realization that you don’t have much time left, but either way, you’ve decided. you’re going to squeeze every last drop of fun out of this night, out of this reality, before you have to wake up and leave it all behind.

the music pulses through the backyard, a mix of laughter and shouting that fills the air like a sweet buzz.

you find yourself losing track of time as you drink just enough to let loose, the warmth of the alcohol making everything feel lighter, more carefree. you’re wrapped up in conversations with sarah and kiara, their laughter mingling with yours as you dance together.

as the night wears on, you feel a pair of familiar hands wrap around your waist, spinning you around. it’s rafe. you hardly register his presence at first—too lost in the moment.

without a second thought, he twirls you into his chest effortlessly, and your heart races at the sudden closeness. you barely have time to react before he kisses you deeply.

it’s the kind of kiss that makes you feel like you’re melting into him, as if the rest of the world falls away. the music dims to a low thrum in your ears, and all that exists is the two of you, locked in this moment of heat and urgency.

rafe pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your skin. he lifts his chin and lets out a loud ‘woo!’ that echoes through the party, earning cheers and whoops from those nearby. you can’t help but laugh, caught up in the energy of it all.

he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing in an adorable mix of confusion and amusement, a smile dancing on his lips, and asks, “how much have you had to drink?”

in your tipsy state, you hold up a couple of fingers, a crooked smile spreading across your face.

“that’s my girl,” he says, taking your hand and leading you toward the side of the house. the party fades into the background as he guides you upstairs, taking you to a patio that’s off-limits to the rest of the guests.

the air feels different up here—cooler, more intimate. the view of the party below is mesmerizing, with colored lights twinkling against the dark sky, laughter drifting up like smoke.

rafe stands beside you, practically holding court with his girl by his side, completely at ease in this secret space. he leans against the railing, one arm casually draped around your shoulders as you both look out over the night, the chaos of the party a distant memory.

it’s just you and rafe, lost in the moment, enjoying the night and everything it has to offer.

his lips are working furiously on yours as he lays you down on the bed, a soft groan escaping his throat that fills you with desire. you feel weak against him, his body naturally playing rough with you as he kisses you deeper.

his hands roam your body, his thumbs brushing over the sides of your breasts, pausing to cup them in his large hands as his tongue slips into your mouth, his fingers finding your hardened peaks to trace over them gently. his other hand moves lower, caressing your stomach and hips.

you’re blitzed and needy for him, your hips bucking up against his hand instinctively, pleading for some pressure.

he chuckles against your mouth, breaking the kiss only to trail his lips down to your neck, his fingers lightly dancing over your inner thighs, tauntingly close to where you want them most.

his touch is addicting. his fingers continue their path until they’re buried between your soaked panties and your skin. he groans at the warmth and wetness he finds, his thumb pressing against your clit as his fingers start to rub slow, gentle circles over it.

you whimper softly as your back arches, chest pressed into his. learning down, rafe kisses your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he whispers into your ear.

“eyes on me, baby,” his voice is low, husky, demanding. your gaze is pinpointed on him, despite how difficult it is to keep them open. they flutter shut when he increases the speed of his touch, his own breath hitching as you writhe against his hand. “that’s it, look at me.”

his fingers continue their relentless pace, drawing out your release as he watches you with heavy lids as you come down, his own hardness straining painfully against his jeans.

as you cry out his name, he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing your moans and whimpers as your body convulses against him, his fingers continuing to work through it. he grins against your lips, his pride swelling as your release coats his fingers. he’s so proud of you.

as your body finally stills, he pulls his fingers free from your folds and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean.

his hands move to your hips to flip you over so you’re on your hands and knees, and swiftly discards the rest of his own clothes. when he returns the spotlight, he groans at the sight of you, your ass high in the air, presenting yourself to him.

hie hand comes down hard on your right cheek, leaving a red handprint. “such a good girl,” he murmurs, rubbing the sting away before doing the same to the left cheek, each spank leaving you gasping and gripping the sheets harder than you were before.

he takes a moment to admire the view, his large hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass. “you look so good like this, baby,” he tells you, giving a cheek one last sharp smack before hooking his fingers around your underwear and roughly tugging them down.

his hands return to your hips, his body crowding yours as he leans over your back, his hardness pressing against your still core. he nuzzles his face into your neck, his breath hot and heavy on your skin as he wastes no time, slowly entering you. he’s big, intoxicated, and absolutely hungry for you.

he hisses a breath through his teeth as he fully sheaths himself inside you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “so perfect for me, hmph?” he says, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to thrust in earnest. he knows he’s not being gentle, but he also knows that you can take it.

his hips snap against your ass with a punishing rhythm. he reaches around to grab your throat, his fingers closing around it like a vice as he chokes you gently.

“my perfect girl,” he whispers, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly, listening to the pleasuring sound of your broken moans. he pulls out suddenly, his thick member slapping against your pussy before he grips your hip tightly and slams back in.

he hisses, his hips bucking forward, his movements becoming more frantic. his hands dig into your flesh as he speeds up, the sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. he’s merciless, each thrust meant to claim, to own, to mark. he grunts with every snap of his hips.

at some point, his thrusts become shallower but equally brutal, hitting a spot that makes you wail. he grins.

just when you feel your orgasm building already, it’s like he reads you like a book. rafe abruptly pulls out and flips you onto your back, pushing your legs up and out as he slams back in. he leans over, his chest pressed to yours.

he’s relentless; you’re learning this. with you, you’re like his prey. and he makes all the right noises to drive you over the edge.

“please,” you whine, your head collapsing back against the pillow. “can i please cum? please?”

his hips jerking forward in short, sharp thrusts. “not . . not yet. you can cum when i say you can,” he hisses, his voice laced with dominance. “you can take it, can’t you, baby? for me?”

you hold out for as long as you can but he doesn’t make it easy. tears brim your eyes at the frustration, at the stimulation that’s clouding your mind. all you can think is him. end the night with him.

“i’m not done with you yet,” he tells you, his face contorted with pleasure as he continues to thrust into you. he reaches down and wraps your legs around his waist, tilting his hips to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “wanna fill you up with my cum. make you pregnant.”

“‘m gonna cum,” you cry, and his hips jackhammer as he feels your body clench around him.

he can already feel himself itching for release, just like you. who is he to deny his own? “cum for me. show me how much you love me, baby,” he groans, his voice strained with passion.

his face contorts with pleasure as he feels you clamp around his cock, his rhythm growing erratic as he finds his own release. he lets out a guttural shout, his body growing heavy as he cums inside of you.

you lift your head off the pillow and look down between your warm bodies. rafe reaches for your jaw and presses his lips hungrily to yours—to taste you and to reward you for being so good to him. when he pulls away, he’s breathless, lifting off of you.

his hands cascade down your thighs until he’s gripping the flesh of your hips, pulling his own back, then forward into you. it’s slow, gentle, until he’s withdrawing completely. his cock springs free, attached to it a mere string of cum, a mix of both of yours.

then he’s off, retrieving some tissues from his bedside while you lay in the middle of the bed, fucked out, bruised, but in an unexpected way, relieved.

you hear the crinkle of tissues as he pulls you to the edge of the bed and wipes both of you clean. he tosses the used tissues into the trash without much care before collapsing back into bed, pulling you into him. his arm wraps tight around your waist, almost possessive, like he’s afraid to let go, even in sleep.

you lie there, listening to the soft sound of his snores. his face is peaceful now, so different from the chaos he usually carries. it feels strange seeing him this way—vulnerable, calm, and completely at ease with you. you should feel the same, but your mind keeps spinning.

it’s hard not to think about the day, about everything that’s happened.

just this morning, you woke up in a world you’d only ever seen on tv, a universe that wasn’t yours but one you’ve somehow slipped into. and despite everything, it’s been . . . nice. spending the day with rafe, with sarah, kiara, and even the rest of them. living in their world, even if it was only temporary.

you take a deep breath, staring at rafe as your thoughts drift. it feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience, something gifted to you without explanation. one day to live among them, to see what it’s like.

you lie there for a while longer, watching as his chest rises and falls with each breath. his face is so peaceful.

before you realize it, you’re leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. your lips linger for a moment longer than you mean to. when you pull back, you watch him again, his face still unchanged, lost in whatever dream he’s in.

you whisper, “thank you.” a parting phrase that feels like a goodbye, and it essentially is. because deep down, you know this isn’t your world. it was never supposed to last more than a day, and as much as you’ve loved it, as much as you’ve found comfort here, you know it’s time to go.

with a sigh, you finally decide to call it a night.

you slip under the covers, pulling them tight around your body. rafe’s arm is still around your waist, holding you close. you let yourself settle into his embrace, his body pressed against yours.

it’s almost too easy, too natural, the way you cling to him, letting your head rest on his chest as you begin to drift off. your thoughts blur, and soon enough, sleep overtakes you.

@v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @httpsdrewstarkey @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @cold-soup1223 @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @drewsephrry @sgecorrow @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies

jk ! when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the light—bright and clear, filling the room. you blink, your eyes fluttering open slowly, though your head throbs with the weight of a . . . hangover? this stuff really spreads to the real world.

the faint smell of something familiar, lingers in the air. groggy and confused, you try to shake the fog in your mind, rubbing your eyes before looking around your apartment.

and then it hits you. rafe is still in bed with you. and this isn’t your apartment, this is still the camerons house.

his arm is still wrapped around you, his body still beside yours. your heart skips a beat, confusion quickly flooding your chest. this isn’t how it was supposed to go. you were supposed to wake up in your own world, in your own bed. this isn’t real.

another day?

you sit up suddenly, your breath catching in your throat as you check your body, running your hands along your arms, your chest, your legs, feeling for anything that might seem off. but it all feels real. your skin, your muscles, the headache—it’s all real.

your eyes go wide as you look around the room, trying to make sense of what’s happening. the bed, the walls, everything is just as it was last night. rafe is still asleep beside you and your mind races, struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.

you didn’t wake up in the real world. you’re still here.

a/n: HASHTAG L O L (guys i panicked how do u explain the twist that y/n is gonna be in this alternate reality withour sounding corny). post-credits scene ahh ending 😭

[rempewiththetempe]

Is This Off The Record? — Quinn Hughes⁴³

Chapter One

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n gets a job as a rinkside reporter for the Vancouver Canucks, befriending many of the roster members, but one player (who just so happens to wear the C on his chest) is rather against the idea of becoming friends with the girl.

Warnings: use of y/n, cursing, I think that’s it?

w/c: 3,198

a/n: I haven’t written anything in what feels like forever, so I hope this isn’t too bad. I started writing this at like 6 in the morning without sleep the previous night and finished it up after i finally slept so I apologize for any mistakes. I’m also not very educated in the world of reporting but I tried my best. I hope you enjoy!

  You weren’t new to the world of reporting. Not in the slightest, actually. You had dreamt of being a big-time journalist since you were just a girl. You’d had it in your head for a while now that you wanted to be a sports reporter. It was kind of niche, sure, but you were going to do everything you could to achieve that goal.

  Your dad originally fueled your love for sports, and while you never played any sports competitively, you loved watching them nonetheless. There were a few sports that you didn’t enjoy watching at all. You didn’t have a “favorite” sport per se, but if someone asked you what sport you pictured yourself covering, you would say football. Of course, he made it clear that no matter what you did, he would be infinitely proud, but once your dad had learned that you wanted to work in sports reporting, he brought up how cool it would be if you could be a sideline reporter one day. Since then, that was the picture you’d had in your head for what you’d be doing in sports. Things don’t always work out the way you want them to though.

  When you’d gotten the call that you landed a job as a rinkside reporter for the Vancouver Canucks, you were beyond excited, but part of you felt a bit disappointed. It was the part of you that always wanted to be perfect at everything, the part that always demanded the best of yourself, and the part that never accepted failure or defeat. You had been dreaming about your future job for years, and it wasn’t working out exactly how you’d planned. It was fine though. Lots of people would kill to get a job like this, so it had to be fine.

  You’d lived in the Seattle area for your entire life, so you’d been hoping to land a job with the Seahawks. It didn’t work out that way, but you still landed a job with a major sports franchise within five hours of most of your immediate family. You were glad about that. Family was one of the most important things to you. Well, your family and your job.

  It didn’t take you long to pack up your things, preparing for your move to Vancouver. You’d lived in that small studio apartment for the last 4 years and it still didn’t feel like home. It still felt empty and barren. No marks on the floor from the constant dragging of kitchen table chairs. No residue of crayon low on the wall from where you and your brother had drawn on it and done a shitty job of wiping it off the wall afterward. No crack in the porcelain of the bathroom counter poorly covered by whatever the fuck kind of glue concoction your mom had tested out on it. It wasn’t home. And now it really would never be considered home.

  You’d already found a place to rent in Vancouver, a one-bedroom apartment with suspiciously low rent, and even though you’d seen it in person once, you were still slightly skeptical because of the price. Despite the stress of trying to move and find a place quickly, you were happy. Stressed, but happy. And that’s what mattered.

  You didn’t want to take a plane when you went to Vancouver, for obvious reasons, so you drove your car. Well, technically you didn’t drive your car, your brother, Brock, did. He insisted on driving up with you, even if it was only a two-and-a-half-hour drive. He had a friend who had moved up to Vancouver about a year ago who he hadn’t seen since. He came up with the idea that he’d drive you up to your new home and make sure you were settled in, and then he’d have his friend pick him up from your place so they could hang out for a few days before he took a bus or a train home or something. He didn’t really have a fully formulated plan. He often didn’t. It annoyed you to no end sometimes. It somehow always worked out okay for him though.

  “I’m just a little worried about you is all,” Brock spoke from the driver’s seat, glancing over at you momentarily before turning his eyes back to the road ahead of him. You were sat in the passenger seat of your car, absentmindedly scrolling through social media to pass the time of the could-be-worse drive. Brock’s words broke the comfortable silence that had hung in the car for the past 30 minutes. You lifted your gaze up from your phone to look at your brother who was two years your junior, yet was protective of you nonetheless.

  “I don’t know what you’re getting so worried about,” you said with a faint smile and a fond shake of your head. You turned your phone off and set it face down on your thigh as you heard him sigh at your words.

  “You’re gonna be all on you’re own, Y/n/n,” Brock let out with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, not taking his eyes off the road this time. His words didn’t exactly make a whole lot of sense. You moved out over four years ago and here he was talking about you living on your own.

  “I’ve been living on my own.” An exasperated chuckle escaped you before your sentence had even left your mouth. You found Brock to be a little funny sometimes, even when he wasn’t trying to be.

  “Shut up, you know what I mean, dumbass,” he said, a little laughter making its way out of his throat as he spoke. He shoved at your shoulder lightly. It was kind of hard to have a serious conversation with a boy whom you once saw eat an entire pack of Oreos within five minutes, then vomit everywhere, and proceed to try again with a pack of Nutter Butters.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” you said, giggling slightly at the random memory that entered your mind. The car fell silent after that, but the silence was short-lived as 10 minutes later, Brock decided to play any and every Kidz Bop song on Bluetooth to annoy the ever-living shit out of you. It worked tremendously. You flipped him off and popped your headphones in, curling up on the seat in a way that you knew would have your back hurting later. You somehow managed to fall asleep, even with Brock brake-checking you about 10 times.

  Brock had helped you settle into your new apartment, staying there for a day to help you get your stuff unpacked. There was only a box or two left to unpack by the time his friend came to pick him up. You hugged him tightly, knowing it would probably be a little while until you saw him again.

  That night, you’d wanted to go to bed early, since you had your first day on the job tomorrow, but, of course, you couldn’t stop tossing and turning until about three in the morning when your alarm was set to wake you up at 6:30. You were sure that snooze button would be pressed at least a few times the next morning, and you were right.

  You’d finally gotten out of bed at around seven in the morning. Something like that. You weren’t entirely sure. It didn’t affect your morning schedule too much though. You’d given yourself extra time so you could unpack the rest of your stuff. That part of your schedule had been replaced by you lying in bed and repeatedly pressing the snooze button. You could always unpack your stuff when you got back to the apartment, so it wasn’t a huge deal.

  The Canucks’ practice technically started at 11 AM, but most of the players arrived at ten, so that’s when you wanted to be there. That meant you had to leave your apartment around 9:30. You wanted to be punctual. No mistakes.

  You walked into your very empty bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You cringed slightly at the barely noticeable dark circles under your eyes. You knew that they would go unnoticed for the most part and that concealer would probably cover it, but you were still pissy about it. You hadn’t gotten any quality sleep, after all. Well, that’s that, I suppose, you thought to yourself.

  You stripped and stepped into the shower, grabbing the mini shampoo, conditioner, and body wash bottles you always kept in your toiletries bag, since you’d forgotten to buy some yesterday. Your family always teased you about carrying those bottles with you, but they actually came in handy so who’s laughing now? Probably still them. Eh, you can’t win every battle.

  You took a long shower, washing away the drive from the day before and the shitty sleep you got last night. You closed your eyes and let the warm water hit your face, finding comfort in the feeling despite just barely being able to breathe through the stream of water.

  You eventually turned the water off reluctantly and grabbed the towel off the rack that you’d put there just yesterday. You shivered as you opened the curtain and the cold air hit your wet skin. Warm showers were great until you had to get out.

  You went through the rest of your routine, brushing your teeth, blowdrying your hair, finding an outfit to wear, etc. The morning felt like it passed by in slow motion. The suspense was killing you. You were restless as you waited for the clock to tell you it was time to leave. When it did, you practically bolted out the door.

  The drive to the practice arena was anxious, to say the least. The excitement had turned into nervousness as soon as you put your key in the ignition. No music played through your speakers. The Bluetooth never connected to your phone, but even if it did, you wouldn’t have turned anything on anyway. Silence was what you needed to collect your thoughts and prepare yourself.

  You got to the rink early, but you were glad you’d gotten there early. Better than being late. You sat in your car for a few minutes, before finally taking a deep breath and getting out. You must have made sure you locked your car at least ten times as you walked up to the arena, which was most definitely unnecessary.

  Once inside, it was surreal looking at the environment. It was their practice arena, nothing incredibly special about it, but it was what the whole thing meant. It meant that you were doing what you loved, what you’d wanted to do for so long. You absolutely couldn’t wait.

  It didn’t take long for all the players to arrive. Most of them arrived around the same time, pretty much all within a span of about five minutes. You had a few words with some of them, mainly just quick questions that didn’t really get you anywhere, but, hey, progress is progress. You actually had a relatively long chat with J.T. Miller, you know, considering the circumstances. The conversation didn’t last nearly as long as you would’ve liked but he spent longer talking to you than the others did.

  The last one to arrive was none other than the newly-named Captain of the Canucks himself, a whole ten minutes after everyone else did. He wasn’t technically late, but still. It didn’t seem very Captain-like, but you guessed that you weren’t quite in the position to judge, seeing as you didn’t even play sports, let alone captain an NHL team.

  “Hi, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to ask-” You began cheerfully but cut yourself off due to the fact he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. He just…walked right by. You couldn’t tell if he actually didn’t hear or see you, or if he was just really fucking shameless about ignoring people. You could hardly believe either one, but at least the former option would be a misunderstanding. The latter was just plain fucking rude.

  You stood baffled for a moment but recovered as you saw him disappear into the locker room. You blinked a few times to clear your head of the weird interaction, before going over to take your seat next to the rest of the reporters and journalists.

  The practice went smoothly from what you could tell. It didn’t seem like a whole lot was going on, just routine drills. You made sure to take lots of pictures anyway, essentially documenting the entire practice, sometimes focusing your camera lens on the fan favorites. You were certainly better with your words than with a camera, but they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so you tried. Your photography skills weren’t as good as you would’ve liked them to be, but you were getting better.

  As their practice came to a close, most of the reporters and journalists gathered outside the door to the locker room, waiting for the okay to enter and ask their questions. Of course, they wanted their questions answered. It was the first official practice of the regular season, after all. You tried to wriggle your way to the front but to no avail. It seemed kind of counterproductive. Once the limited amount of media reps had begun filtering in, you certainly felt like a small fish in a big pond. Forget the pond, you were in the fucking Pacific Ocean. Everyone else seemed to know exactly what they were doing, exactly who to go to, and which questions to ask them, and you didn’t. You were sure you looked like a lost puppy in here.

  Someone seemed to notice that too. The fellow you’d had a friendly chat with earlier. The 30-year-old center was already answering some questions from another reporter, but as he answered a question you hadn’t quite heard, he jerked his head to the side, inviting you over. You gladly went. You probably wouldn’t have been able to work up the courage to talk with anyone in here alone. You made your way over to where he stood, a microphone held in front of his face by the middle-aged male journalist who stood directly in front of him. You stood slightly off to the side, waiting for the other reporter to finish up with his questions.

  Once he finished his questions, you made room for yourself in front of the man who had thankfully granted you his kindness. He chuckled as you awkwardly stood in front of him. His presence was somewhat comforting.

   “Don’t sweat it, Kid,” He said, flashing you a comforting smile. The way he spoke the words reminded you of the cool teachers in school after you’d fucked up so badly that you’d just barely gotten by with a passing grade.

  You laughed a little self-consciously at his comment, now knowing that your shortcomings were also apparent to others and not just you. You took a deep breath before speaking, attempting to calm your nerves.

  “Would you wanna answer a few questions?” You managed to ask and it felt like a big step for you even though it was just a seven-word sentence. He nodded wordlessly, a reassuring smile on his face as he did so.

  You actually shook off some nerves and asked him a few run-of-the-mill questions. Simple ones like, What aspect of play do you think your team has improved the most in over the off-season? What aspects of play have you improved in individually over the off-season?, and Do you think your team possesses the necessary chemistry between teammates to be a Stanley Cup contender this year? All of the questions either came with easy answers or came with no direct answer at all. You didn’t mind all that much though. Not right now anyway. You were asking the right questions, and knowing that made things just a little bit easier.

  After you had finished your short interview with J.T., he led you over to where his Captain stood, stating that you just had to ask him some of your questions. You weren’t entirely keen on the idea after your, for lack of a better word, odd interaction with him before practice had even started, but you begrudgingly obliged.

  “Are you sure he’s up for more questions?” You asked almost nervously as a sort of last-ditch effort to get out of talking to this guy. You knew it was a stupid question that wouldn’t get you anywhere. These people knew how to talk to the media and they knew that it was part of their job to do such, of course,, he’d answer some questions. No harm in at least trying to get out of it though, right?

  J.T. just laughed at your question and the insistence in your tone at first. He either didn’t know or didn’t care that you didn’t want to talk to Quinn and you didn’t know which one made you more annoyed.

  “He won’t mind,” He finally said said after a breath. You didn’t care if he minded, quite frankly, you did not want to go through another awkward interaction. You’d already gotten the answers that you’d needed anyway. You were screaming internally.

  Quinn was finishing up some questions with some other journalist when you made it over to where he stood. He had an intense gaze as you could tell he carefully thought about each one of his answers. He glanced over at you as the woman in front of him asked what you simultaneously hoped would be her last question and her first question, wanting this to be over with as quickly as possible but not even want it to start in the first place. His eyes weren’t on you long and you weren’t exactly sure what to make of the way he looked at you for that short time. 

  The question the woman had been asking had actually been her last question and you let out a breath when you realized such. With a smile on his face, J.T. nudged Quinn and it looked like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by the woman who had just been interviewing Quinn.

  “Could I ask you a few questions as well?” She asked J.T. with a rather confident smile on her face and you didn’t know how one could even be that confident in a situation like this.

  “Um, sure,” He said after a moment and you could see that he didn’t exactly want to, but he knew he kind of had to.

  You silently begged him not to leave you alone, but it was part of his job and you knew that. You still let out a long sigh as he was led a little further away from you and Quinn as to not interfere with your interview.

  You turned back to Quinn after a moment and he was also watching J.T. being virtually dragged away. It seemed that he saw you look back at him through his peripherals, and he turned to face you.

  “Can you answer some questions for me?”

[arealphrooblem]

Kidnapped by the Boss Part 8

Synopsis: Val is a secretary to the Prime Minister. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.

Part one here

Part seven here

Val could tell now Rook’s knocks from those of the servants. He rapped at the door in exactly three staccato beats — almost as a warning rather than an announcement because he would open the door anyway if she didn’t answer it within a few seconds. Thus, she didn’t bother rising from the edge of the bed where she sat.

The door swung open moments later and he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed.

“My king has had breakfast sent for. You’re invited to join but he stresses that it’s optional,” he announced, sounding almost bored.

She snorted. “Is it now? That’s a first.”

Yesterday she spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in her room. The invitation to explore no longer tempted her. She wanted to hide instead. The irony of this was not lost on her. Rook had delivered her dinner, citing that the king was too busy to actually have a sit down meal.

Whether that was true or the king simply didn’t want to deal with her theatrics, Val would never know. Rook stayed long enough to ensure she ate a healthy portion before leaving. He didn’t bother her with small talk, which she was grateful for.

“If you decline, I’m to have it sent to your rooms and babysit your eating habits,” Rook added unhappily.

She almost wanted to make him do it out of sheer spite.

“I’ll come,” she said instead.

She couldn’t hide forever, as tempting as that could be sometimes. And she was tired of feeling afraid.

Rook raised his eyebrows at her, clearly surprised at her answer.

“After you,” he said with a little bow, gesturing past him.

 “Such a gentleman,” she said as she walked past.

“It’s so I can shoot you in the back if you try anything.”

“Of course it is,” she muttered.

By the time they returned to the king’s study, breakfast was already spread out on the table.  What mess she made on the carpet yesterday had disappeared, as if it had never happened. But judging from the cautious smile on Aris’s face, he hadn’t forgotten either.

“Good morning, Val,” he said, pulling her chair out for her. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” she replied with a side eye glance at him. As if she wouldn’t recognize his Politician Voice a mile away.

“I slept like shit,” Rook piped up. “Thanks for asking.”

Val choked on a laugh and covered it up in a bite of toast.

“You always sleep poorly,” said Aris. “It’s because you don’t shut both eyes.”

“The last time I slept with both eyes closed, someone nearly shot my hand off.”

“Well that’s what happens when you don’t shut your mouth before going to sleep,” Val added, taking an innocent sip of coffee.

“You’re fucking hilarious,” he snapped.

She smirked. “Thank you.”

“Is this going to be a pattern?” Aris asked, somewhat exasperated.

Val and Rook shrugged in unison and then shot each other wary looks. It was eerie how different they both were and yet could act in unison without a second thought.

Aris gave them both a speculative look. “I see,” he said, before settling his attention back on her.

For the rest of breakfast, they made painfully awkward small talk. Val refused to engage fully, giving Aris terse answers and not contributing anything in between digs at Rook. If he wasn’t such a bastard, she suspected he sniped at her for the distraction. She could almost muster up some gratitude for him.

“And what are your plans today, Val?” Aris asked.

By then they had eaten most of the spread. Rather than answer, she turned to Rook instead.

“Can I talk to him?” she asked.

He gestured to Aris. “Nothing is stopping you.”

“Alone,” she added.

He went still at that, his gaze sharpening, eyes roaming over her features. It felt like getting scanned with a laser.

“My king?” he asked, looking over her head.

“It’s fine, Rook. Meet us in the hallway, if you would.”

Rook slowly stood from his chair, the languid posture disappearing for something dangerous and predatory.

“Only because her right hook sucks,” he added, the joke at odds with a warning look in his eye. Almost like a professional courtesy.

The door shut with a soft click and just like that Val was alone with Aris for the first time since her kidnapping. The last time it happened, he had just been Eugene, her good-hearted, intelligent, disorganized and vaguely infuriating boss. The last time it happened she was chasing him out of his pajamas as he languished at the breakfast table.

That moment felt like years ago.

“Val,” he prompted softly.

She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat and held up her wrist, the tracker humming every so faintly against her pulse.

“Is this my life now, Eugene?”

He tilted his head, brow furrowed. “Is that what had you so angry yesterday? It’s only temporary.”

“Yeah, I know. I can earn my way off of it if I act like a good little girl and follow the rules. Because if I don’t you put me in time out until I learn my place to be more obedient.”

Bitterness oozed from her tone like venom. She couldn’t have stopped it even if she wanted to.

She didn’t want to.

All night those words looped around her head. The fucking audacity of him.

To his credit, he winced in response. “I — I didn’t mean it to sound so —“

“Condescending?” she offered. “Disrespectful? Infantalizing?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table.  “I had to pick out your socks for you so they would match. I had to remind you of your own birthday. I organized every fund-raising event you ever had and I made sure you didn’t mix up the donors’ names. You were a fucking mess without me and you think you can talk to me like that? After everything you have put me through in the last several days?”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t even look at her. She knew prolonged eye contact made him uncomfortable sometimes and so she did not let up her laser focus on him until he could meet her gaze again.

“You’re right,” he said simply. “I have no defense, not really.”

“I’m not going to buy your lip service,” she warned. “I know when you’re bullshitting. You say that now, but I have to wonder if you really think so little of me when I’m not calling you out for it. I thought I had your respect.”

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, biting her cheek down to stop an errant tear. She would not cry in front of him.

A flash of pain crossed his face. “You do have my respect. . . . And my terror. I need to know if I can trust you or not and no way to get an honest answer.”

Her mouth fell open. “You are worried about trusting me? Are you fucking kidding me?”

His fingers tugged at a thick lock of hair — a compulsion driven by sudden discomfort or anxiety.

“I may have lied to you about where I came from, what my goals were, my past lives. But you know things about me no one else does,” he admitted softly. “Not even Rook. You have seen me when I had no mask on. You know my quirks, my mannerisms, my fears, my faults. You can read me like a book. I could be glamored to look like someone else and I bet my entire treasury you would still be able to clock it was me in minutes or less.”

Val had to roll her eyes. “You make me sound like I can read your mind. I was just your assistant, Eugene. I’m not that important in the grand scheme of things, especially since you have literally hundreds of servants at your disposal for the kind of stuff I did for you.”

He let out a bark of harsh laughter. “You have no idea. I was a mess without you. I’m disorganized with a horribly unreliable memory. I can’t focus my full attention on something for more than five seconds at a time. I get overwhelmed at tasks with more than two steps and you have to put a gun to my head to start my own laundry. And yes, I have servants that can take care of some of those things, but no assistant has ever compared to what you could do.”

“Now you’re just kissing my ass,” she said, leaning back with her arms crossed.

And gods help her, it was working, if only a little. Eugene had never been ungrateful when she worked for him, but never had he acknowledged her skills to such a degree.

“I’m being honest,” he countered. “I am in the most crucial and potentially vulnerable part of my plans. And you are the one person who could bring about its downfall. You know the most important leaders in every category. You have their personal contact information, for Gods’ sake. You know exactly who to go first to warn of an invasion, you know exactly how to organize against it, and you have enough information about me and how I think to give them everything they needed to stop me. If you were to escape it would ruin everything.”

He dragged a hand over his face, another tick that showed his worries. Maybe he was on to something.

“You’re so dangerous, in fact, Rook had been nagging at me to execute you since you dove into the car,” he continued. “And in all honesty, it’s the smartest choice to make. But I can’t do it. Not to you.”

“So this is your solution?” She shook the tracker at him. “Imprisonment for crimes that I could do instead of anything I have done?”

He pinned her with his gaze. “Would you stay if I took it off? Or would you leave for home at the first opportunity?”

Of course she would run. She would give anything to be far far away from him and this whole mess. Not that she could.

“You’ve made it impossible for me to go home,” she spat.

This time he leaned over the table, eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t force you into that car, Val. You can blame me for a great many things, but not for that. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for a choice that you made.”

Val chewed at her lip, unable to argue this and hating it. Her choice was based on her feelings and he wasn’t responsible for either. That was on here alone.

Godsdamnit.

“What would you do if our roles were reversed?” he asked, head tilted. “What other solution is there?”

She snorted. “Have you thought about moving on? It’s been a century. This is the way things are now.”

Aris stood from the table so suddenly it shuddered, the vase of flowers nearly tipping over. She jerked back reflexively as he slammed his hands on the table. Fury sparked in his eyes, more than she had ever seen, running hot enough to make her gaze flinch away.

“They murdered me, Val!” he shouted. “They murdered me and stole my home from me and then they’ve systematically destroyed it for their own gain.”

She had never seen him raise his voice before. His fingers dug into the table cloth, his gaze a brand upon her, as he continued in a softer voice that shook.

“The Coalition is in shambles. You saw it when we worked together. The bribes from lobbyists are what drives laws. Family ties rule the senate and parliaments just as iron clad as a dynasty. The wealth disparity is a chasm while trade stagnates in Three and roads are impassable in Two and we’ve sat through three drinking crises alone in One in my first term alone. You can accept it because you have no conception of what things were like before. But I cannot stand by and accept that this is the way things are now.”

His words finished in a growl, his breaths heavy. Val swallowed, trying to calm her own racing heartbeat. He had never shown any signs of violence in the time she’s known him, but neither did she ever witness a loss of temper like this.

Could she have taken him on in a fight? Maybe. If he didn’t have a gun on him. But not Rook, who waited just outside and undoubtedly heard all of this.

“And you think you can fix all that?” she finally dared to ask.

Because he wasn’t wrong. Which she also hated.

He stood up  and took a few deep, calming breaths, fingers combing his hair back. Putting himself back together as if he had never lost his temper.

“I know that I can,” he said as he sat back down, his voice even again. “Those sorts of problems don’t exist here.”

“That’s because your political infrastructure never really changed,” she pointed out and if he threw another fit, oh fucking well. “You have to change a hundred years of laws and politics to model it after here.”

He nodded. “I am aware. I’m under no delusion that it would be fast or easy. But it can be done. And I will do it. Even if it takes me ten lifetimes.”

“You know, there’s a certain kind of word for someone who starts running a country and then never steps down.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“I’m going to give you grace for the conclusions you’re drawing out of ignorance and youth. But if you are so concerned about what I’m going to do to our home, then why don’t you help me?”

From prisoner back to assistant? Her suspicions rose like hackles.

“Help you how? Match your socks again?”

“I’m the king. If I were mismatched socks no one would dare comment on it save for Rook. And now you. I’m more interested in your mind. Your organizational skills. Your guidance. Your knowledge and experience.”

“I thought I was young and ignorant.”

She would not be tempted by this, she would not.

“I am going to unite the Coalition back under my rule, Val. It is not a hope but a certainty. You have the choice to watch helplessly from the sidelines or help me create an end result we can all live with.”

“I . . .” A cocktail of complicated feelings twisted and writhed in her gut.

He was right about so many things. But he also knew how to twist the truth with his own ideas. She’d seen him do it countless times, to run circles around lobbyists and constituents and other politicians. It was impossible to know what she could trust.

“I would have to think about it,” she said finally.

He smiled then, a small quirk of his mouth. “You have some time. Now, is there anything else you would like to rightfully scold me for or can I call back in Rook before he has a stroke?”

“I’m done for now.”

“Excellent. And — one more thing, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“What?”

He gave her that crooked smile again. “Call me Aris.”

Let me know in a comment if you want added to the taglist!

Taglist:

@rivalriotrenegade @sunyside-world @fishtale88 @those-damn-snippets @suspiciousmuffin @thats-alittle-gay @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @tobeornottobeateacher @burningkittypoet @kurai-hono-blog @clover-sage @astr0-mj @littleduckies @adenafolly @ladyathenawisdom @ughhhhhsstuff @urmyhopeeee

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Experience (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer wants to make sure Reader’s first time is perfect.

Request: Same as Part One (Inexperienced) Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Kissing, make out, loss of virginity, penetrative sex Word Count: 3k

MASTERLIST

I’d always imagined that it would be difficult to date a profiler, even as a person who hated to lie. There were still some secrets I’d rather keep to myself.

Then again, I’d also thought I would hate dating anyone but a profiler, because, as a profiler myself, I would catch them in every lie. I would know their every secret.

After a few months of dating Spencer Reid, I’d realized the flaw in my logic. I had never considered the reality that the person I chose would never feel the need to lie to me.

When Spencer told me I was beautiful, he never had to lie. When he said he was happy, the truth of it was written all over his face. I felt each hint of excitement and insecurity through the way his hands shook when he touched me in a way he never had before.

It had been both a shock and a relief when he told me that he’d only slept with a couple women before me, and only once with each woman. From his perspective, he was nearly as innocent as I had been. In a strange way, it was comforting.

But the day he shared that information with me had also been the day I caught him in his first lie by omission.

“I appreciate you so much,” I’d said.

“I like you, too,” he’d answered, but he’d actually wanted to say, “I love you.”

(I��d forgiven him for the half-truth when he’d proceeded to confess within the hour.)

Overall, dating Spencer had been effortless. If there was one negative thing I had discovered, it was that he made it basically impossible for me to catch up on recent movie releases.

Because every time around the thirty minute mark, without fail, Spencer’s hands would begin to roam. They would sneak under whatever fabric would accommodate him.

Of course, I say it’s a negative, but I didn’t really mind. I’d sacrifice a million poorly written scripts for him any day.

Didn’t mean I wasn’t going to tease him about it, though.

“Are you even watching the movie?” I asked.

Spencer hummed against my neck. Without answering, he gave another long kiss against the sensitive skin before he’d decided that the couch was better suited for horizontal activities. He helped guide me to lay on the couch beneath him; the both of us abandoning the movie screen for something far more enticing.

Again, he kissed me. This time just a chaste peck on the lips. I’d decided it wasn’t enough, however, so I pulled him back for the type of kiss that left lingering tingles from the loss of pressure when it ended.

“I take that as a no?” I giggled.

“You’re way more interesting,” he slurred.

I ran my hands through his mussed, mousy brown hair and pushed the few strands away until I had an unobstructed view. His pupils had grown so much in the dim light of the living room that I could hardly see a halo of amber honey irises.

I released a soft sigh at the sight because I knew it wouldn’t last nearly long enough. I had been right, too, because it didn’t take Spencer long to push against my hands and capture my lips with his once more.

I wasn’t going to complain. Especially not when he used his knee to push my legs apart. He replaced the empty space with thigh, which he politely offered to me for a more exciting seat than the couch beneath us.

My back arched on instinct as I ground down against the strong muscles. A gentle mewl escaped from between our lips. The sound only encouraged him more, and Spencer became even more insistent in his adoration. His hands held me closer, and I was happily crushed within his embrace.

“You’re so soft and so warm,” he groaned.

He hadn’t been wrong. It felt like every inch of me was on fire and I was helpless to stymy the embers. It was so hard to find my thoughts among the haze of lust, but I managed somehow.

“Do you want me to use my mouth again?” I offered with a giggle.

I watched the memories replay through his mind. Then, for the first time since our educational experimentation had begun, Spencer seemed almost disappointed in the prospect of being worshipped by me.

Instead of accepting, his wandering hand came to a stop at my hips. He slowed my movements until there was nothing but the sound of hot, heavy breath.

With the back of his free hand, he brushed his knuckles over my cheek. His eyes burned into mine, igniting an even deeper fire than I felt in my chest and between my legs.

“I want…” he whispered, his voice wavering so badly he had to try again. I could sense the restraint in his shaking hands and hard swallow.

But then he said it.

“I want to take you to bed.”

My heart stopped in my chest—not for too long, though—it had to find him again. It forced me to pull him closer, to share in the metaphorical and literal warmth of his embrace. I felt the lithe but strong musculature of him hold me as tightly as he could without hurting.

I looked into those darkened eyes and saw a soul overflowing with love. I saw myself in the oceans of his lust. I felt it, the soft rocking of our bodies that had begun moving again.

I wondered when it had stopped being scary. Because it wasn’t. Not anymore.

“Take me,” I whispered under my breath.

Spencer had prepared to accept rejection. So much so that he seemed genuinely shocked at the softly spoken words.

“Wait, really?” he asked.

I couldn’t help but giggle at the way his voice cracked.

“Really,” I promised.

The poor man practically tumbled to the ground in his haste to move from the couch. With absolutely no grace and an almost juvenile amount of excitement, he jumped up and helped pull me from my still horizontal position on the couch.

I could hear myself laughing. My chest was somehow both completely devoid of air and also full of it. The joy pouring out of us felt never ending. Even when we found each other again, I’d chosen his lips over breathing.

We disrobed each other with an equal amount of laughter and just as little grace. His hands didn’t feel foreign on my bare skin; he had held me fervently several times since the first movie night. But they still felt exciting.

There was a renewed vigor in the way he loved me. Not that anything had been missing before. It was just different. It was a comfortable chaos.

When we were finally bared before each other, however, the frenzy subsided. We stood together, with our hands interlocked despite so many other places we could hold one another. Spencer tried to keep his eyes on mine, but he must’ve found other sight too inviting. His eyes flickered over my naked body like a page from his favorite novel.

Part of me felt like we could spend an eternity there, basking in the vulnerability and trust we offered one another. But the rest of me was far too excited by the prospect of finally learning what all the fuss was about.

It was my decision to pull him forward, but it was his decision to kiss me. Somehow, despite his insistence to pay full attention to my lips, I managed to maneuver him onto the bed.

At first, I climbed on top of him. I perched myself on his lap like it was the most natural thing. I settled my hips so that his erection rested against my stomach.

Spencer took a moment to enjoy the sight of his girlfriend feeling at home with him. His eyes, still swallowed by the abyss of blown pupils, seemed to shine brighter. His fingers barely touched me. The tips dragged along my thighs like any pressure might cause me to shatter.

It felt that way, too. My heart was so full that each beat knocked the breath from my lungs.

I placed a gentle hand on the silken skin of him. I pressed him against my stomach and tried to imagine, one last time before I knew for sure, what it would be like to welcome him inside of myself in a physical way.

Spencer whimpered at the contact. His hands that had been gentle turned needy. He pawed at my thighs and dug blunt nails into the malleable skin. He didn’t stop me, though. He waited patiently until my palm slid over the tip. Once my hands were free, even just for a second, he grabbed hold of me and tossed me beside him on the bed.

The sudden movement made my lungs empty with laughter. Spencer joined in, rolling onto his side and mounting me before the momentum was lost.

He paused again. His eyes continued to scan heated skin between us. I realized that he was having his own moment, his own treasured memory of anticipation before the first had come and gone.

Things wouldn’t be the same, but he assured me they wouldn’t be different. He had told me early and often that he loved me. He had never given me any reason to doubt the veracity of the statement.

I’d gotten better at knowing when he was lying ever since I’d seen him naked.

So when he finally spoke, I knew that it was the truth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered with a roughness of a dried throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his hips lowered enough that he could once again feel the heat radiating between my legs.

“I want you so badly,” he whined.

His arms were shaking with restraint. Even when he pressed his length against me, his movements were unbearably slow. He slid himself back and forth through the wetness dripping from my folds.

I could hardly breathe. The tension from the waiting felt the same as the few seconds before the euphoria.

The next time that he pulled away, I issued my own beg.

“Take me, Spencer.”

His resolve stumbled. He rutted harder against me, but managed to maintain my purity for a few seconds longer.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “it sounds so good when you say that.”

I forced my eyes to stay even half-open as the torturous teasing continued. I looked up at Spencer and gently brought him back to me. His eyes were equally strained, glossy and fogged by the lust we shared.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked.

“I just…” he started just to stop.

He swallowed again. That time, he swallowed whatever lie he had concocted that he thought might sound more appealing to me than the truth.

But ultimately, he knew that I would have never accepted a lie. So, he told me the truth.

“I want it to be perfect.”

I fought the urge to laugh because I knew he wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t realize that I was laughing because it was absurd to think that he could ever be wrong.

I’d imagined this moment a million times over and he was the only thing that had never changed.

Instead of laughing, I kissed him through a smile. Each time he pulled away to gasp for air, I kissed him again. I continued until he seemed drunk from it all. I ran my hands through thick brown curls and didn’t stop the giggle this time.

“It’s already perfect,” I explained, “because it’s with you.”

Spencer laughed. His eyes seemed clearer as tears gathered in the corners.

“Don’t be nervous,” I assured him.

“I can’t help it!” he squeaked, “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and now you’re letting me touch you, and I am just—!”

Before he could wind himself up anymore, I kissed him again. He kept trying to speak his insecurities to life but I dismissed them each with a quick kiss to impossibly soft lips.

“You are perfect,” I sighed. “That’s what you are.”

And for once, my boyfriend was willing to accept the praise. He reveled in the pride and safety that he found in his lover’s arms. I felt it, too. Any fear or hesitation that remained dissipated when he kissed me one more time.

Then, I knew that it was time. Taking one of his hands in mine, I guided both between us until we reached the slick, lily-soft skin. Our breaths hitched in tandem as we prepared for the bliss of togetherness.

“Let’s do it together,” I whispered as I abandoned his hand to grab hold of his dick. It felt warm and firm and more than I could ever ask for.

Heat blossomed throughout my stomach like butterflies. My lungs and heart pumped harder when his hand wrapped around mine.

Together, we positioned the head against dripping folds. Spencer pressed forward, filling the emptiness of me with himself. Inch by inch, he coaxed tight, resistant muscles into a new kind of tension. My body clung to him the same way sweat beaded on my skin. Each second that passed, I became more and more aware of how empty my life had been without him.

When I finally felt the base of him rest against my inner thighs, I let out a shaky breath. I breathed in again, reinvigorated. New, but still innocent to the full force of his passion.

“I love you,” he whispered against my lips.

“I love you, too,” I answered. I’d hardly even recognized my voice.

The dreamy, otherworldly quality of it had been honest. Just as I’d started to transcend the ninth cloud, Spencer began pulling out of me just as slowly as he’d entered. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the heat of him dragging against sensitive muscles.

Then, when I’d least expected it, Spencer thrust forward. With one swift motion, he forced himself to the hilt inside of me.

“Ah!” I yelped.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, not understanding that it had been caused by the furthest thing from pain.

“No, no, it feels so, so good,” I said between heavy breaths. Unable to express exactly how it felt, I explained, “You feel so good.”

“You have no idea how good I feel right now,” he chuckled back.

The joke, however silly, served as another reminder to my body that I was safe there. Even when Spencer started to thrust into me with less restraint, my body started to relax and allow him to take what he wanted.

My thighs rippled from the contact. My whole body writhed underneath him, rocking in tandem with his movements. We were simultaneously together and off-rhythm, but it didn’t seem to matter. All that mattered was the soft sounds of pleasure pouring from our mouths and between our legs.

“I love you so much,” he pleaded, “Thank you for loving me.”

“I love you so much, Spencer,” I returned because it was true.

Spencer’s movements faltered simultaneously. He stopped at the deepest point of me and gasped. He steadied himself, trying to not lose himself completely.

Despite wanting it to last longer, I also needed him to come closer. So, I kissed him even though I knew it couldn’t last nearly long enough at his pace.

Still, Spencer’s lips lingered on mine. Each time he drove into me, his lips would brush against mine enough to satisfy my longing.

Punctuating every thought with our bodies crashing together, he whispered sweet nothings in the air between us.

“Your body is the closest thing to sanctity,” he groaned, “you are the only evidence of cosmic creation I will ever need.”

My stomach started to tense with the power of his words. They worked their way into the most intimate part of me the same way our bodies melded together.

My eyes, barely open, stayed fixed on his in the darkness. He served as my light, the fire burning between my hip bones. I felt myself becoming consumed so quickly that it made me hold him harder, closer, longer.

Spencer’s soul reached into mine and my words flowed from his lips.

“Fate exists and it brought me here to you. I was made for this,” he said between heavy whimpers, “I was made for you.”

There were no words left to be said. Every nerve in my body was firing, every beautiful word I’d ever heard was battling its way to my tongue. Only the most meaningful managed to be made.

“Spencer…” I whined.

He heard the desperation in my voice and he knew I wouldn’t last much longer.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered in earnest, “Take me. I’m yours.”

The sweet sound of my submission took him over the edge. Just as we’d started, we plummeted into the ecstasy together. With our bodies wound around one another and our hearts just as hopelessly enmeshed, we found our release. As my walls fluttered around him, I felt his heartbeat from inside of myself. Warmth unlike the rest filled where I was once empty.

When his body collapsed onto me, he still made sure that our lips met first. A chaste kiss devolved into a flurry of tongues and whimpers the way it always had.

It had been different, but it had been the same. Exactly as he’d promised.

Spencer eventually paused his worship to let his lungs catch up to our now gently beating hearts.

But he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Was it worth the wait?”

I laughed at his impatience and never ending desire to please. Relief washed over me when I realized that I hadn’t needed to lie.

“Yes,” I hummed before flashing a cheeky grin. “But I don’t think I want to wait that long for next time. Is that alright with you?”

And although it would take at least a few moments to fully enjoy each other to that extent, I still felt him twitch with excitement inside me.

Then, with a deeper, darker voice to foreshadow a future of exciting adventures, he rasped, “That sounds great.”

(And it was. It really, really was.)

(Tell me what you thought about this piece here!) NO PART 2 REQUESTS.

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[howdoesagrapewrites]

what wld lovesick pav and gaya be like w a s/o who tries to be like, healthy in their relationship? like they're not the "i wanna get away bc this is unhealthy" type, but the "i will actively tie you both down and make you communicate your feelings and wants in a healthy way until we can all reach a mutual agreement" way

like the two reach the stage where they don't want their love to leave the house at all- but they kinda quickly shut that down and are like "nuh uh. i have a life, so either we talk it out and find something that works for me and you two or i stay out five minutes past the curfew you set just to make you squirm"

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩

Cw: poly!reader x lovesick! Pavitr Prabhakar x lovesick!Gayatri Singh, explicit talk about mental health

Notes: all I can think about is the reader spraying then with a water bottle like a poorly behaved cat

>You went out of the apartment to get the grocery shopping done, your partners had been behaving oddly, they were always very affectionate and loved being around you, but lately you feel like they have been neglecting their personal life in order to be together

>You left the house when they were taking a nap, you didn't feel like you were sneaking out, just that you were doing chores while they slept

>You think about this as you examine the red apples deciding if you should buy them or not

>Your phone vibrates and you answer to a preoccupied Pavitr, you apologize for not telling them, but you didn't want to disturb them, when you're about to hang up, he hits you with "just wait, we're on our way"

>You're a little confused and annoyed by having to wait for them at the market without being able to continue the list of home necessities, but you tried to be understanding, and thought that maybe when you got home, you could start a conversation about what you've been thinking the whole afternoon

>When they arrived, the outing went smoothly, and happily, like you're used to

>After you finished organizing everything on the shelves and pantry, you started the conversation in a pretty straight forward manner, you didn't want to dance around the subject and talk about issues like they're anything aside a from a completely normal part of every relationship

>You said you wanted to talk, and they were visibly nervous, however, complied

>"So I've been noticing that you don't want to leave the house, and that you get really upset when I do leave, and it concerns me, I won't force you, but I'm your partner too, I'm here for both of you."

>I think these two would be one of the easiest characters to pull into therapy and get them to work through their issues, something that's surprising considering they would never accept this if you were dating individually

>The challenge here is definitely Pavitr, because like I've said a million times already, he's extremely delusional

>So it'll be hard to even make him realize there's an issue with his obsession, also you'll need to reassure him that you're not rejecting his feelings, but rather just want to work through a more positive and healthy way of expressing and processing those feelings

>"But I love you, why don't you love me too?"

>"Of course I do, Pav, but love isn't supposed to hurt"

>Gayatri has a more clear vision of where these issues stem from and will be more cooperative with communication with time

>At first she's closed to the idea, but when she sees how much you care and that you genuinely want to help her, she lets her guard down

>If you respond positively and don't show signs of fear or disgust when she tells you about her feelings, you get to hear, the most gruesome parts, but far from scared, you're proud she feels safe to verbalize and recognize toxic behavior

>I think Pavitr would use mindfulness as a coping strategy for the yandere tendencies, and Gayatri would turn to writing

>Some of Gayatri's pieces are morbid, sure, but it's better than having her do it, you praise the effort

>Sometimes they still relapse and snap at you or get too possessive, but you're having none of it

>You set clear boundaries and as hard as that is, they understand that they'll lose your trust and love if they are unwilling to be better

>I think there's a solid 8/10 chance of fixing them

[hackedmotionsensors]

I went to library con (lol its not called library con but thats what i called it. Its American Library Association Annual which is funny bc they call it ALA and I was like...that shitty anime con???) this week in san diego to promote the comic I worked with Terry on "Eat your Heart Out"

I got jumpscared seeing the big banner. My art has never been on anything bigger than art center presentations lmao

We handed out signed copies and it was honestly pretty fun. I have a ton of bookmarks as well if anyone wants one.....if you can find me in real life LMAO

I also got to be on a PANEL like a big professional lmao And met Josie Campbell an animation brethren and we were like "LETS GO TAG! LETS GET THOSE NEGOTIATIONS!!!!" (Reminder that The Animation Guild is due to negotiate with studios in August so please support us!!!)

Downside was is that some of my sunburns are still really fresh (most of them are in gross peeling stage and some are...kinda painful) so I was a bit sweaty and uncomfortable...and now I'm paying for it bc i feel really under the weather.

BUT. lol my issues aside (it was my own damned fault getting burned the weekend before)

It was really fun!

Librarians are really cool lol Especially since I tried to get into that field during my unemployment last year and a half it was interesting hearing what they had to deal with as Librarians for children or teens (The teen librarians kept talking to me about Slam Dunk and One Piece *u*)

There's also this huge emphasis for book sellers in getting your books IN libraries. Books in actual physical libraries does so much for the value of payments of the book (which in turn pays the authors and artists that work on those books).

And how much librarians and libraries do for the industry as a WHOLE. I learned that back in the day when english manga was coming out they were binding the books REALLY SHITTY and its funny bc I DO remember that. The quality was really bad. And because librarians complained about it, because a book circulates through a lot of people rather than if you buy a volume for yourself, the book will get damaged really fast if the book is made poorly. So Viz had to change HOW they bound their books and you can definitely tell now how the quality is so much nicer.

Anyway it was really cool lol And also since it took place at the San Diego Convention center it was really cool to see what SDCC looks like when its not an absolute cluster fuck of people and noise lol I saw where I slept on the ground outside to get into Hall H and we were treated to a dinner at Roys which I'd only ever seen in passing lol (ALSO ROYS WAS SO EXPENSIVE!?!? And I thought the onigiri was like...the salmon went INTO the onigiri....so that was the dish. but it was...a ball of rice onigiri shaped with some salmon ...and it was REALLY good salmon and the misoyaki was good too but.....i was expecting really expensive onigiri and was oddly disappointed it wasn't....that.......anyway)

ANYWAY ANYWAY lmao. Our comic comes out in August 13! I've finally seen the finished product and it came out so well. Yknow that thing where you see your art from a few years ago and you want to crawl into a hole and die? Well lol I still feel that but also I don't because it honestly looks so good and its nice seeing it all in one whole place! The coloring came out really nice ! And I can't wait to see what Claudia did in the second half of the book

Oh yeah I also got a comped train ticket to get me down there and I got to ride the Amtrak which was pretty cool! I ...was EXHAUSTED on both trips down and back so I slept most of the way lmao But look at this guy!

Lol ALTHO I was genuinely surprised that when we came back from san diego the train just goes in reverse.

On shinkansen the seats on the train are able to turn around so you're always facing forwards. So it was a little disorienting at first. I also wished I had an ekiben on the way down.

Its cool I can get an ekiben in august when i go to japan lmao

[slexenskee]

Nest (Oneshot)

Someone, at some point, somewhere in one of my inboxes, asked me something about Hawks's more bird-like traits. I wish I could remember... literally anything else about it so I could track it down and answer it properly, but I can't so here's Gojo being sick and Hawks building a nest about it

[link] (or read below)

Getting sick is a normal and uncommon fact of life— unless your name is Gojo Satoru.

This is his reasoning for how he idiotically misses the signs of his own incoming misery until it’s too late to avoid it. He’d had a sickly early childhood, mainly due to a premature birth and a finicky eating schedule, but by the time his Six Eyes and his memories had awakened he’d gotten through the worst of it. There was still the usual gamut of runny noses pervasive in the public school system, but eventually he’d learned to filter out the worst of the pathogens. Some common viruses, like the cold or the flu, changed too quickly each year for him to do it reliably, but as he got older he just learned to keep a healthy(ish) diet and a decent(ish) sleep schedule and avoid them. 

In hindsight, that it took him this long into his parenting adventures to finally catch something from Eri was actually rather impressive. Kids were the penultimate vector of diseases; sticky hands, constantly touching everything and everyone, and spending notable amounts of time around other small human-shaped vectors of diseases made catching an illness an inevitable outcome for any parent. As it turns out, Gojo Satoru and his invincible barrier was no exception.

Anyway, so finally getting sick wasn’t that surprising, even if he wasn’t thrilled with the experience. 

But Hawks’s reaction to it… well… okay maybe that shouldn’t have been surprising either, but it sure was a bewildering thing to wake up to.

He wakes from a groggy, disorienting sleep with a head that feels stuffed full of cotton (or maybe just congestion) and only a vague recollection of how he ended up back in his bed. He thinks he actually fell asleep on the couch with Eri on his chest, but at some point he remembers being carried off somewhere. 

Eri had gotten some kind of bad head cold from her daycare. Nothing life threatening, or even warranting a trip to the pediatrician, but painful to deal with nonetheless. He hates to see her so obviously unwell and unhappy, and especially hates how little he can do for her when she’s like this. He’d stayed up with her through her miserable coughing fits, gave her steam baths when he could, and made sure to keep her on a steady clip of simple foods and fluids. In the process, he’d slept poorly himself, and spent most of his time stressing out about her and forgetting to eat or drink fluids himself. 

At first, he just assumed his poor constitution could be blamed on a criminal lack of sleep. Then he tries to take a breath through his nose and ends up in a coughing fit instead, and realizes not only is he still sleep deprived, but now also sick. 

Gojo collapses back onto the bed, sighing as he resigns himself to a pretty unfortunate next few days. 

He rolls over onto his side, hoping to clear out his lungs that way, and ends up with a nose full of Eri’s hair and a cat yowling in protest. 

This isn’t particularly unusual. Eri still sleeps with him on occasion, and when she does she sometimes forgets to close the door behind her and the cat prowls in at some point and makes a nuisance of himself by curling up right where Gojo wants to put his legs. 

But when Gojo opens his eyes to swat the cat off the bed, he’s met with a peculiar sight. 

He blinks bleary eyes out at the scene, a bit bewildered, and wondering if his head cold is making him hallucinate. 

The bed is… full of junk. 

Well, not junk exactly, but a strange and random collection of various household items that, at first, make no sense to Gojo. Every throw pillow in the house seems to have made its way into a vague circle around the perimeter of the bed, and draped across them are all the spare sheets, random pillowcases, a few sweaters, a pair of fuzzy socks he thinks might belong to Yui, the throw blanket that lives on the couch downstairs, and even a few throw blankets he doesn’t even recognize. 

He reaches for the nearest one, a plaid thing he’s very certain he’s never seen before in his life. It’s silky soft, and also still has a tag on it. He rubs his fingers across the smooth fabric, then moves to the sweater that’s bunched up next to it. It’s also quite soft. Everything on the bed is soft, he realizes. It’s not just an arbitrary assortment of all the fabric items in the house— it’s an assortment of all the softest fabrics in the house, laid out in a conspicuously circular arrangement around him. 

Gojo’s not entirely certain, but he thinks this is supposed to be some kind of nest. And he appears to be in the center of it. 

For a long moment, head still fuzzy with sleep, he just stares out into it incredulously. Then he shrugs and grabs one of the random blankets and throws it over him and Eri, snuggles back up to her, and falls back asleep. 

//

Hawks returns to the room when the light is low, so quiet Gojo almost doesn’t stir even as the other man moves about the bed. He reaches out blindly in the direction of the noise, catching the Hawks’s sleeve. 

“Oh,” Hawks says softly. “You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

Gojo gives an unintelligible grunt in response. Hawks just chuckles, moving closer to push the hair off Gojo’s forehead. “Yeah, I figured as much. I’ve got water and medicine, if you’re up for it.”

Gojo eventually summons up the energy to open his eyes. At some point, Eri and Meow have disappeared, leaving him rather lonely in this crowded bed. 

He blinks up at Hawks. “... You made me a nest.”

He made a nest, and then put Eri, all the softest things in the house, and even the cat in it with him. If he wasn’t so out of it right now, he’d be dying from the adorableness of it all. 

Hawks looks a bit abashed as he looks down at his arms. Gojo realizes he’s got a collection of sheets and pillowcases in his arms that had formerly been strewn around the edges of his the bed. “Ah… yeah. Sorry about that— I kind of made a mess! I’ll clean it up and put these in the wash.” 

Gojo frowns up at him, blaming his wretched sinuses for the way it takes him so long to realize Hawks doesn’t just look bashful, but perhaps even a bit self-conscious. He tugs a little harder on the man’s sleeve, wishing he felt a little more coherent so he could properly explain himself. 

“Don’t clean it up,” he says, voice rough with sleep. “I like it.”

“Oh,” Hawks looks surprised, and a little pleased. “... You don’t mind?”

Gojo shakes his head, which from the way his head starts swimming in dizziness after, was probably not the best idea. He has to close his eyes to stave off the nausea, and Hawks immediately starts fussing over him and urging him to sit up and take his medicine. As he does that the hero walks over to the blinds and slides them shut, dousing the room in blissful darkness. He gives a sigh of relief; he’d forgotten how sensitive he gets to light when he’s sick. 

“Better?” Hawks asks. 

Gojo makes a noise of acknowledgement, setting down the empty glass as he smiles up at him. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Of course,” Hawks replies easily, returning to his side. He settles at the edge of the bed, careful not to dislodge all his hard work, gaze worried. “Do you need anything else?”

He’s about to say no, before he thinks better of it. He makes a show of looking around the bed. “You know, it’s a pretty nice nest,” he starts, slowly. “But I think it’s missing something.”

It’s cute how Hawks sits up at attention, suddenly very alert, looking both eager to please but also a bit offended. “Missing what?” 

Gojo grins at him. “You.”

Hawks rolls his eyes. “That was embarrassing for both of us,” he mutters, but nonetheless slides in next to him without protest. 

Yeah, his game’s usually better than that, but whatever, he’s sick and he still got what he wanted. 

Back to Masterposts

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hello sex witch! this may or may not be something you can answer, but I was wondering if you had any advice on kind of disentangling the emotional aspect to sex? I’ve only slept with one person, and tbh I really psyched myself out bc I didn’t want to be the stereotype who gets way too obsessed with the person who took their virginity. I’ve never felt comfy doing casual sex to get more experience and a lot of that hang up is mental, and my friends advice has always been to meet guys on apps until something clicks, which to be fair I haven’t tried but idk. it seems like the wrong order of operations? like I need to sort out my emotional shit before dragging other people into it, even if I never see them again. it’s also not like an anti sex positive thing, I know Logically casual sex is fun and normal I just can’t seem to untie all that. I hope this was coherent lol, thank you so much for answering questions on this, it’s very helpful to have an objective take!

hi anon,

I think a crucial addition to everything you just said is the almighty "for some people." for instance, "casual sex is fun and normal... for some people." this isn't to suggest that sex between people who aren't in a committed romantic relationship is ever abnormal, of course, only that everyone's individual norms are different. frisbee golf is fun and normal, but that doesn't mean I personally get anything out of it. keep your frisbee away from me.

if casual sex isn't comfortable to you (a thing that you said, I'm not putting any words in your mouth) just. don't do that.

it's fine to save sex for a relationship where you're a little more attached. wanting a more substantial relationship with your sexual partner(s) doesn't make you obsessive, and it doesn't make you sex negative; sex negativity is what happens when you want everyone to have sex exactly the way you do and make up justifications about why the other ways are amoral and dangerous. what you have is, like, a preference, and an extremely harmless one at that.

you've made some allusions here to having some "emotional shit" to sort out before having sex with someone else. if you're referring to your disinterest in casual sex, that's not actually a problem. if there's a different flavor of emotional baggage that you feel would make you poorly positioned to be a responsible sexual partner then sure, by all means work on that first and good on you for recognizing it. but if the entirety of this perceived issue is that you'd rather go out a bit first and get to know someone before you have sex with them, that's nothing. that's something easily resolved by just talking to prospective partners about exactly what flavor of relationship they're seeking to make sure your goals align.

I prescribe you this chill pill, to be taken immediately, and assure you there's nothing about what you're doing that sounds like it needs to change.

[littlecactiguy]

I wrote this earlier instead of getting out of bed in my phone's notes =D though I've now edited and polished it.

Arthur and John's first (brief) conversation after Arthur wakes up from dying

.

To return from death is…well, it’s certainly not unlike waking from a deep sleep where the position you slept in meant one of your limbs went numb and you have to move it carefully while the feeling returns to it.

That is, if you also happened to have fallen asleep on a bed of nails that dig into you with every movement you make.

The dream of it is quickly fading from Arthur’s mind. He knows he should grasp on to the lingering wisps of its memory. It could be useful to hold onto that knowledge.

He doesn’t. He won’t? The thought is honestly rather foggy.

Arthur is on his back. He can feel the harsh ground beneath him. There’s a rock under him, uncomfortably digging into his shoulder. He should probably do something about that. But that would require moving, and he only has control over one hand, and the rock is under the shoulder that hand belongs to, and—

“Arthur? ARTHUR! Arthur, answer me, damn it!”

Arthur inhales, and pointedly does not consider the pain that shoots through his stomach as he does. Regretfully, his brain perfectly recalls he ended up in this situation by being stabbed through, the specific location on his person where the blade pierced him, and it now informs him of multiple other places where his nervous system is indicating pain.

He has a feeling that he doesn’t really want to know what happened to his body during his absence from it. Arthur will ask John about it, later, because, despite that feeling, he also truly does want to know.

He just wishes he didn’t.

It takes a couple swallows for him to croak out, “What, John?”

“You—you weren’t responding. I—you need to answer me! We need to work together, Arthur. To—"

“I just died, John,” In volume, Arthur’s voice isn’t loud enough to be heard over John’s, but John still silences himself as Arthur speaks.

Momentarily. His immediate response to Arthur’s words is very loud.

“I KNOW!”

Despite being burdened with two entities, Arthur’s mind is remarkably resistant to shooting headaches. Or there’s simply too much pain elsewhere in Arthur’s body that there was none left to allot that much to it.

John softens his voice to a tone that doesn’t make Arthur’s mind throb. “I know. I know.” He hesitates. “But that’s why you have to respond to me. I…”

Arthur waits. Raising his hand is impossible due to how heavy feels, but he manages to twitch it in the direction of John’s.

“I need to know you haven’t done it again,” is what John finally, quietly, says. “You—Arthur, you can’t do it again! If you do, I’ll take over your body! I’ll—”

“Kill me yourself?"

John’s silence indicates the attempt at a joke went over extremely poorly.

“Sorry.” Arthur coughs, which turns into a hacking fit. He heaves himself onto his side, scattering blood droplets around. He feels the tatters of his clothes move with him. There are more tears in them than he cares to count. “I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Good.” John sounds not content, but at least satisfied with his answer.

Arthur lays back down. His head rests against a soft lump that he hopes is their pack and not something else. “I think I need a minute. To rest.”

“Alright. Rest, Arthur,” is spoken gently.

It makes no difference if Arthur’s eyes are closed or not for him to sleep, but he feels that they are anyway. Before he drifts away, a vague memory floats across his mind. He mumbles, “There was music, John.”

“Music?”

John’s question feels like it’s coming from very far away, or Arthur is wandering very far away from it.

“Arthur, what music?!”

“It was nice,” Arthur whispers.

Before he fully gives into the rest, the last thing Arthur hears is Yorick’s distant voice, “It is only sleep, my king. To return to one’s body from death is a difficult ordeal. He will wake again.” The fleshy clacking of the jaw bones pauses. “Will you tell him, then, when he wakes, what you spoke earlier?”

Arthur doesn’t remain awake long enough to hear John’s response. Nor will he remember to ask about it when he does wake back up again.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter Thirteen: S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus, Sister!Reader x James Potter, Potter!Reader x Friend!Sirius

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, food consumption, Umbridge, not proofread

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!

Author's Note: My favorite character has finally been introduced in this chapter! As a Ravenclaw myself, I find so much joy in Luna's character so I'm very excited to write her into this series!

Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 1573

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

After Y/N had a good crying session with Harry by her side, she felt much better and more prepared for the year to start. It had taken her some time to work her way into going back downstairs and apologizing to both Severus and Remus who of course both held no grudge and forgave the woman rather quickly. Severus had made her sit down and gave her a plate of only her favorite foods, chatting with her as she ate. She hadn’t realized how hungry she actually was until she had finished her whole plate and still wanted more, so Severus refilled it and handed it back to her.

“You have a good talk with Harry then?” Severus finally asked her after she finished her second plate of food.

“Yeah, I told him a story about my days back at Hogwarts and how Sirius and I had that bet, do you remember that?” She replied, finally looking her partner in the eye.

“I do, you were going to let that dog take you out on a date before I ever did,” Severus replied in a sour tone.

“You know Pads and I never went on that date. They were all too busy teasing me about my crush on you that Sirius had forgotten. And by the time he remembered he had dropped the straight act and started going out with Remus,” She rambled.

“Back it up a minute. You had a crush on me in your fourth year? And you never thought to tell me?”

“Well no, I thought you had a crush on Lily so I just kinda left you alone with that and kept it to myself until my brother found out and in turn told all of our friends about it.”

Severus took to teasing her stating that he too had a crush on her during their time at Hogwarts together but he thought she had a thing for Remus. The couple shared a laugh over their shared obliviousness before going off to bed, where for the first time in a while, Y/N had slept through the whole night without waking up once. The next morning, the two professors had to leave for Hogwarts, they were both needed at the castle the day before the year began. As they bid their goodbyes, Y/N pulled her best friend aside. 

“Look, I know it’s only one day, but can you please keep a close eye on Harry? Even send Sirius to tell him stories about Jamie or something, just keep him occupied until tomorrow where he can be with me again. Please, Rem?” She asked the werewolf.

“Of course Dove. Don’t even worry about it, I will keep an eye on him and so will Sirius and Molly and Arthur. All of us will keep him safe until he is on the express on his way to you. I promise,” Remus replied.

“Thank you Remmy. You truly are the best. Love you.”

“Love you too, dove. Now go before you guys are late. I’ll send an owl in a few days.” Remus sent her off with a kiss to the head and watched as her and Severus left the Black residence hand in hand.

The pair had gone to the nearest floo network and flooed into the Hogwarts castle. There were a couple new professors starting for this school year and Dumbledore had wanted them to get acquainted with the returning professors before the students arrived. Y/N and Severus walked into the headmaster’s office where a majority of the other professors were waiting. The two stood towards the front with McGonagall. 

“Have a nice summer Miss Potter, Severus?” Dumbledore asked the pair.

“Just fine, how was yours, Albus?” Y/N replied.

“Wonderful, thank you. We are just waiting on one more and then we can proceed.”

And so they waited, all of the professors that were punctual talked amongst themselves, some sitting on the floor, others finding an empty spot to sit. This went on for nearly 2 hours before the last professor showed up, a short woman dressed in all pink. She looked like a toad in Y/N’s opinion. Finally, Albus could start his usual spiel, telling the professors what to expect for the year and introducing them to the new professor for defense against the dark arts.

“This is Professor Umbridge, she will be the new defense against the dark arts teacher. I wish everyone to give her a warm welcome. Good luck this year, it will be a great year,” Albus explained before releasing all of the professors. Y/N and Severus officially shared their quarters this year so both of their belongings were in Severus’ quarters. 

Y/N wished it was her quarters from the year before but because Severus was the head of the Slytherin house, he had to be close to the Slytherin common room. She had been in the dungeons before and had stayed in his quarters but she couldn’t get used to the constant darkness and cold that ran through the air. It would take her some time to get used to but as long as she had Severus she would gladly go anywhere with him.

It took them no time to get unpacked and settled, going to the Minerva’s office when they were done to catch up. They’re first night back at Hogwarts was uneventful, spending most of the day catching up with the professors they liked and considered friends. Y/N even taking time out of her day to chat with Professor Binns who droned on about the history of magic and Hogwarts itself. She had willingly and actively listened to the ghost drone on until she checked her watch. It was nearing midnight.

“Oh my, would you look at the time? It was lovely talking with you professor but I should go to bed. Have a lovely night!” She excused herself before rushing to the dungeons and back to her quarters. Severus was fast asleep on the bed, hugging her pillow tight to his chest. She tiptoed her way to the bathroom where she changed into pajamas consisting of one of Severus’ shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. She made her way back inside the room and to the bed where she had to gently pry her pillow from his grasp and replace the pillow with herself. 

The second her body hit the bed, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her straight to his chest. “Where were you?” He mumbled sleepily in her ear.

“Got carried away with Binns. I forgot how much that man could talk,” She whispered back.

“He’s a ghost, not a man,” He corrected.

“Whatever, goodnight, honey. I love you.”

“G’night, love you too darlin’.”

The couple slept rather soundly that night, both ending up sleeping in later than usual, waking up close to noon the next day. Y/N rushing to get ready so she could see her nephew again even though it had been only a day and Severus taking his sweet time getting ready. “I’ll meet you in the great hall for the sorting. I want to make sure Harry was okay last night,” Y/N told Severus as he was getting dressed and she was putting on her olive green cloak. 

“I’m sure he was fine but go. I’ll meet you there,” Severus replied, walking over to plant a kiss on her cheek before going back to getting himself dressed. She made her way to the great hall to greet the returning and the new students. She was extra excited when she saw her nephew rushing towards her with a smile on his face. 

“Aunt Y/N, they’re amazing! I never thought the carriages were pulled by anything but wow! Can you see them too? The thestrals?” Harry rambled as he hugged his aunt tight.

“I can see them too, they’re pretty cool huh?”

“Hello professor Potter, have a good summer?” An airy voice asked from behind Harry.

“It was okay, Luna. How was yours, dear?” She smiled at the blonde.

“It was magical, I’ll see you later professor.” Y/N giggled a bit at the girl as she skipped into the great hall. She held a deep appreciation for the girl, no matter how much she was picked on or how much she had gone through, she was still such a positive person. Someone she wanted Harry to be around and hoped that the two would become friends at some point. “Okay love, you go in, I’ll see you in a few.” Harry walked into the great hall and took a seat with the rest of his house. Y/N going in once Severus had met her by the door, both going in together and sitting together. 

It was the beginning of another year at Hogwarts. Yet another new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the rest of the professors staying the same except for an interim Care of Mythical Creatures professor filling in for Hagrid until he returned from his mission. She was looking forward to this year, hoping that it would be better than the last few. That Harry would be safe for once this year but she knew deep down that it was another typical year. It was going to be another year of trials and tribulations, another year of hardships, she just hoped that they would be able to power through them.

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[mushroomwoods]

One Year, Eleven Months and Twenty Days…

When Hyrule set off into yet another unfortunate journey, he didn't expect a sudden, skittish and nosy you to throw yourself into his life, much less for you to hang around him long enough for him to get attached. He believed he didn't need any company for as long as he lived as the hero, however as you proved him wrong, he started to fear for the possible time limit he could to have around you.

character — Hyrule, romantic.

cw — angst, hurt/comfort, mention of battles/injuries, paranoid behavior, self-blame.

I don't know why I'm starting a long fic, but rulie brainrot took over me, so here we have it. Chapters may not be as regular as I'd like, but I already have the general outline and can say it will be from something in between three to five chapters, so... Yeah, I hope you guys will like it!

Chapter 1 — Of a lonely hero and a daring traveler

Two minutes.

It took him less than that to notice that you were injured upon your first encounter, even when you tried to batantly hide the fact with a few poorly timed jokes. He inspected your form from a distance he deemed safe enough, unconvinced by your clear act of amicability towards him. You were just a traveller, just as himself, he happened to stumble upon while running away from yet another village, a very nosy traveller who took upon yourself to help him, the Hero of Hyrule himself, because of his seemingly weak state — he was just a tad tired from the long run, nothing less than usual for him —, while not noticing how poor your own state was, bandage around your upper arm bleeding through your coat.

You were quick to make yourself comfortable on his presence as the two of you had been making way towards the same destination, "Two are way better than one when travelling" you said and while he'd much rather disagree, he didn't do much more than offer a curt nod, accepting of you for as long as you didn't make the first move for a fight.

Fifteen hours.

Was the time before the first nightwatch, the forest far too dark for anymore walking to be productive. You tried to keep watch first, however he disagreed — far too paranoid to let himself be vulnerable on another's presence —, winning the heating discussion with his stubbornness alone. You went to sleep clearly disheartened — you'd take that as your chance to attack, he was sure.

When you woke up to take your turn he didn't offer much complaint, much to your surprise, and went to lay beside a fallen tree, back pressed tightly into it, too afraid to let his back exposed to any lurking enemies.

He did not sleep however, no, of course not. That would be a stupid move when he wasn't clear of your intentions yet, he was sure you were hiding your claws yet, ready to pounce whenever he was the most vulnerable, unable to fight back.

Surprisingly, the night ended peacefully, you dealt with a lurking wolf and even hunt down for breakfast, but made no moves towards his seemingly sleeping form, no glances, no traps, no poisons, nothing.

Three days.

Before the tiredness started catching up to him.

He hadn't slept for the few days your accompanied him, his body slowing down and his reaction time getting worse by the day. If you noticed his state, you made no comments on it, he could see, however, how his workload seemed to decrease slowly, you started walking more slowly saying your injured leg seemed to get worse — a light strain he was sure he had cured the night before as you slept —, you started checking the surroundings before the both of you walked into the next area and started carrying most of the weight around.

The next time he woke up, it must've been at least a days later, his head resting upon your now clean coat, as you sat farther into the clearing, beside a waterbody apparently cleaning down your sword and refilling the water flasks. He could feel the weight of one of your spare hoods on his head, along with a fresh smelling bandage who was poorly wrapped around his head, from this alone he could guess you didn't attempt to take a closer look at his face, which he was minimally grateful for.

In his usual state he'd make sure to go against your action, but in all his tiredness he couldn't bother himself to care enough for it.

It was only a matter of time before he fell down, the workload too much for his system to process. His vision blackening and mind wandering before he could even make contact with the ground.

As much as he wanted to depart soon towards the next city for a restock, your battered state made him hold his tongue. Your sunken eyes were enough of a tell of how much you took care of him in the time he was off. After that he made sure to sleep at least enough during the nights to come so the journey wouldn't be anymore delayed.

Two weeks.

The young boy couldn't even begin to wrap his head around the thought that this money wasn't just yours, but his too. When he tried shaking his hand in disagreement however, he could already see the frown starting to form on your face, stopping before another argument could start, not noticing how lately he seemed to cave in to any of your pleas.

You had reached the first city and he could finally bid you goodbye.

Or so he thought, before you were pulling him through the market, selling off any pelt, spare meat and any shiny object you got your hands on during the short time, the loot he found annoying you took everywhere soon making a hefty amount of rupees he didn't think of before. The most off-putting part of it however was how you naturally turned to him, showing the bag of money to him, while saying " We made so much money this time, all thanks to you" with a big grin.

One thing he could notice that day, was how you were just as awkward as him when it came to human interaction. The moment one of the innkeeper around your age tried asking about your relationship with him, clearly showing a romantic interest in you, you brushed it off with a laugh, running up to your shared room without even looking back, avoiding the attendant eyes for the whole time you spent around there. It was also the first time you had the pleasure to hear him laugh freely, as he made fun of your situation when you talked late into the night.

Two weeks and two days.

The day the both of you departed from the small city, rupee bag noticeably lighter and equipment way more polished, his arrows switched for more durable ones and his sword sharpened — the smith gave him a side glance, however your chattering stopped the man from making him any questions about the unusual blade.

He gave in to the idea that you might accompany him to wherever he was going for as long as he got your attention, also accepting that you were more useful than he thought at first, as you seemed to distract any possible threats by simply existing. He wasn't sure if it was your charisma or if you made other too afraid to question the both of you, but it still made the last two days he spent around other hylians much calmer than he could ever remember being since he finished his journey as the hero of this land, anytime someone as much as made a move to question him about the hood covering his face you started bombarding them with questions about their wares or glared them into silence, getting a pretty big discount as consequence.

It was uneventful enough as your chattered away, sharing with the boy any information and rumor you got from the locals, the few moblins that were found wandering around in strange patterns, the criminals getting more and more aggressive over the last few days and, of course, the newest cuisine that was created in the next town. The last bit you had gotten from a young postman who had to stay for little longer on the last city he visited, as the monsters attacked and everyone had to retreat to safety.

The thought that it may be his fault made him uncomfortable.

Three weeks and four day.

You were getting closer and closer to a dungeon the both of you wanted to explore, for different reasons, but still.

A certain merchant had talked relentlessly about how he could hear Pols Voices getting louder and louder inside a dungeon over the last few days. You didn't seem too keen on helping out until the man said something about a plentiful reward, but still, you waited so the boy could make the final decision. He agreed more out of familiarity than anything, too used to helping others to say no.

It had been some time since he had fought Pols Voices, and he had forgotten how much they strained his throat, but it was enough of a laugh when you prepared to make the first move and he beat you to it, screaming louder than you had ever seen anyone do in you life. Your eyes went wide, as you could do nothing but watch the ghostly monsters dying before they could even approach any of you in the large room.

"How can your voice be so loud when you're so quiet?" You questioned as soon as you got out of the dungeon, still stuffing the spoils into your bag, and he shrugged in answer, to which you pouted.

Upon seeing the merchant waiting for the both of you a little farther on the road, you didn't think before running up to the man, failing to notice the few other shadows that surrounded his figure. A trap.

Fortunately you were quick enough to act when you noticed what was happening, your hands curling around your fellow traveler's own as you fled with a single cut brushing against your neck.

It could've been worse.

Three weeks and five days.

You believed you were already far enough from your chasers.

You were sweating buckets, blood dried over your whole clothes, probably beyond salvation at this point. The boy beside you was unscratched fortunately, and even when he offered to help heal your injury, you denied adamantly. He could do nothing but watch as you clumsily cleaned and bandaged the cut with yet another herbal mixture, probably the same mixture you had used on him before and worked wonder on his body.

The two of you continued your path without your chirpy voice this time, only the few warnings you gave him the few times he tried to eat or feed you something clearly not edible, upon your standards at least.

Your eyes were peeled open ever since that day, barely sleeping at night and the thought that it might've been his fault plagued him yet again that night.

Four weeks and a day.

He should've noticed the signs sooner.

That night you came up with a ferver. Or actually, since the last confrontation you weren't getting any better from your injury.

He saw how restless you were during the nights, tossing and turning with quiet whimpers of pain, however he made the decision to not cure you from your ails, following your wishes.

How stupid he was.

A hero who couldn't offer his help. A hero who was too afraid to even say his own name. A hero who brought more problems than solutions.

Could he even call himself a hero?

That night he was even more scared than the first time he had someone after his head, he couldn't even begin to understand why the thought of never hearing any of your terrible jokes or see any of your stupid life choices made him so restless, however he just understood that if you were like this because of him, the least he could was curing you before parting ways. It'd be for the better.

His powers didn't work.

A month and two days.

It had been five days and you hadn't woken up. Your ferver was still high as he followed the path, your form slumped over his shoulder.

The first day he cried for hours when he noticed that his powers weren't working, but he knew that the longer he spent on the same spot, the easier it'd be for his enemies to find him.

He was quick to change gears and continue his path, even when his mind ran miles a second, he shouldn't let you get hurt again, he should protect you for being the one who put you through such troubles.

It was hard, and his mind wandered sometimes to the first week he spent by your side, how even with his clear distrust, you took care of him, yet never made any complaints when he fell or made any mistakes, covering everything with an easy smile and a wave of the hand.

It was late at night when you first made any sound that wasn't akin to the sharp pain you were feeling, a low "traveler" falling from your lips, before you coughed because of your dry throat.

When he heard the title you used to call him he was quick to drop anything he was doing, running to your side — just now he noticed he had never told you his name.

You tried to laugh at his desperation as he offered you the flask of water, asking if the layers were too cold or too hot, already rummaging through his bag for anything that might help you now that you were awake, but the moment you noticed the tears falling down his hood and into his shaking hands, you shut your mouth, just taking the bottle and gulping down the liquid without a word.

The both of you sat in silence for a few minutes — he wished you'd stay laying down, but you insisted you were healthy enough to sit at least —, but you sighed when he seemed too lost to even make the first move.

"I was poisoned" He flinched. "Fortunately it was nothing fatal, but the side effects can last a few days… or weeks, I already have experience with these things, so it's not like I'll die from something like that."

He felt himself wanting to cry again when he saw that easy smile of yours, the one you always offered when you knew he was a little down, and somehow you always were right.

The hood that covered his face finally fell as he tugged into it, revealing his chestnut hair, curling until right under his pointy ears, much unlike your own, his eyes had a similar color with a forest green undertone that seemed to drawn you in, even when it was bloodshot from his previous crying, his skin glowing under the moonlight, reminding of the tales you often heard during your childhood about the Great Fairy.

He opened his mouth after a few seconds of a heavy silence.

"My name is Link..." He gulped, eyes descending to his fidgeting hands, too nervous to meet your clearly awed gaze as he wondered if it was the right choice, if you'd recognize him and go after his life just like the others. "I'd like to continue travelling with you… Even after we complete this journey."

You stayed silent for a long time, enough so he would look up to you again seeing the warm, real smile you wore.

"Of course! I'd love to, Link!"

[cyten0]

A Symphony in Crimson

Act 2: A Movement in White

Chapter 1-A

When brought to light, the monster's pain

Is clarified and can bring shame

Yet bit by bit, their pain is cleansed

But will aught be left, in the end?

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

You awaken in the clocktower. Your nightmares were tame this time…

…You aren’t that hungry. Why, again? Think…

▲ “Morning Sif.”

Oh. Isa’s here… You just noticed you’re holding them. Oh! You let go.

▲ “You’re all good Sif! Feeling better?”

Better… Right. You… You got out of the timeloop yesterday…

✦ “Y-yeah. Better.”

▲ “Good! Others are already up, we better join them! Don’t wanna miss breakfast.”

...Right. You imagine they have a bunch of questions. You… Didn’t talk much yesterday, after… all that. Just… wanted to rest…

You head downstairs, and see a bunch of groggy faces.

◆ “Morning Siffrin. Grab some food, Bonniface made extra so grab plenty.”

You nod, and grab a plate. You might be mostly okay, but you still grab extra. Could always eat more.

◉ “Please tell us at least ONE of us slept well?”

✦ “oh. uh. I guess you all didn’t?”

◆ “Nightmares all around, I’m afraid. Not a surprise, but breakfast certainly helps.”

✿ “Yeah! Chocolate chip waffles make anything better!”

◉ “Agreed, Thank you Bonnie.”

Oh, pun time!

✦ “Yeah. Thank you for… Chipping in.”

▲ “HA!! HAHA!!”

Bonnie and Odile groan, while Mira holds back a light chuckle.

You sit down and get a few bites in, taking the time to actually savor the food this time. First time in a while you could. You thought you’d had enough of sweet, after all that sugar scent from wishcraft, but you think this redeems it. Bonnie’s food is too good! And the eggs and bacon on the side is VERY nice…

◆ “… While we’re here, Siffrin, I know we held off asking too much yesterday, to give you a bit of a break. But I suppose now’s a good time to start asking things. Let’s start off with something light, how exactly does your diet actually work?”

Oh. Well, you suppose that this IS the most important question.

✦ “Um. Normal food helps, but I’ll likely have to go out hunting about every week, or maybe two if I find something good. Animals for nutrients, Sadnesses for craft.”

◉ “Huh. I knew you ate sadnesses, but those are distinct?”

✦ “Kinda? I don’t recover craft very easy, so I grab sadnesses to refiill. But well. Their just saltwater? So it’s not very nutritious. Doesn’t help the body much.”

▲ “Wait you need sadnesses to recharge craft? Huh.”

✿ “Next question! How much food do I gotta make to keep up with hunting?”

Right, Bonnie won’t like this part.

✦ “Sorry, hunting's kinda important. Or at least some form of meat. I kinda can’t eat other stuff otherwise.”

✿ “Wait WHAT?! Whats that mean?!”

✦ “I kinda have to make a fake stomach to eat normal food at all. Otherwise I can only eat meat, and I’ll struggle if it’s processed too much.”

◆ “Wait, does that mean normal food isn’t nutritious at all for you?”

✦ “No! It still helps, I just need to put effort to do so. And it’s not as efficient as with normal people.”

◆ “Hm. If you’ve been relying on hunting this whole time, that explains your ‘off days’. So in that case! Let’s keep a supply of dried meats as backup in case hunting goes poorly. Maybe see if we can’t buy some wildlife bait, make things easier for you. And don’t have you bother with craft unless you’ve hunted some sadnesses.”

You nod, thankful.

You all continue to eat for a bit. Your glad there’s plenty of protein in this meal.

◉ “..T-There is. One thing. I think. Should be asked. B-But it’s a bit awkward, and maybe now’s not the best time, and-”

✦ “It’s okay, Mira. Just. I’d rather not have you worry.”

◉ “… Okay… It’s just… In that fight with Loop… They mentioned you um…”

She takes a bit of a deep breath.

◉ “You’re struggling with… the taste of… human.”

Everyone jumps a bit at that mention, yourself included. Oh stars, oh no, this is the one thing you are not prepared for! You have to take a second, you were trying not to focus on that!!

◉ “N-Not going to pry! I-It’s okay, and you don’t have to tell us anything! J-Just!… Is… Is there a way to make it… easier?”

You… Their still here with you, their not running, it’s fine, it’s fine.

Just take a deep breath and don’t think too hard.

✦ “I… It’s okay. It’s… I’ve gotten better at… Ignoring it. But... The smell of blood is bad. Hard to ignore it now… But I’ll manage.”

Nobody knows how to respond. You all know, adventuring, battles often happen, and there’s rarely a fight with no blood…

▲ “...I’m sure we can think of something to at least help!”

◆ “Of course. We do still need to get supplies for the trip to Bambouche.”

You nod. The faster you avoid THIS topic the better. And you need a moment to breathe after that reminder.

✦ “I’ll see about helping the house with repairs…”

▲ “Gotcha! I’ll help Bonnie get a letter to Nille, so they know we’re coming. And look for any news to find out the best route.”

◉ “I’ll help Madame with Supplies. We have a lot to get and might need to search a bit for what we need.”

◆ “Alright. Where shall we meet up?”

… You want to go there before you leave.

✦ “… The favor tree?”

Everyone take’s a moment of silence before nodding.

Alright. Best go about it then.

>>>

You sit in front of the favor tree. The Spiderlily still retains it’s color. You wonder if it’s permanent? Or if it’ll fade into shades eventually… You hope it stays. So that no one can ignore it. A little marker of them. So people will look at it and, even if they don’t know why, respect it.

Helping fix the house went… easier then expected. They were mostly fine, and you used a bit of monster strength here and there to carry stuff around. And made use of that webbing ability to help scaffold once. Made sure to head into the woods and locate a deer after that though, just because it seemed like a good idea. Also you noticed their craft generator was really outdated, so you did some tinkering and gave it a few upgrades. Euphrasie thanked you herself for that!

...Not that it was all pretty. Some people, having unfrozen after you beat the king, saw what you turned the house into. And some had even seen the sadnesses, before you had them die. Some saw your monster features and put 2 and 2 together. Though, one person thought you were a victim of it, which was kinda funny… The rest were just scared…

But now you’re just here. Sitting next to where they sat. Thinking about everything that has happened...

◉ “Siffrin! You’re here already?”

✦ “Yeah.”

◉ “Hehe! Me too. Got some nice stuff, Odile’s just doing double checking…”

She sits down next to you, looking up at the tree.

◉ “...Kinda feels strange, doesn’t it? That all that could happen just because people made a few idle wishes at trees like this… I’ll admit to some curiosity as to how that works.”

✦ “If you like, when everyone gets back, I could do a lesson? I… The real Siffrin was kind of an expert on this stuff. Even designed the Favor tree ritual. For Vaugarde.”

You made sure to grab those books while in the house. Nobody minded, since no one else could even read them. Felt they were important.

◉ “Wait, really? For Vaugarde?… I guess it got some use, in a way. Even if it went bad.”

✦ “It normally doesn’t… Siffrin put a lot of work into it. And died before the people they wanted to use it ever got to know… I think they’d be glad it got some use at least.”

◉ “Well, if it makes you feel better, you could tell people how to do it? So it gets to live on a little!”

You nod. You’d like that a lot… You can still bring a little closure… In fact…

✦ “… Do you think everyone would like to try, before we leave?”

◉ “H-Huh?! I.. I mean, probably? I guess I wouldn’t mind myself… though I guess I’ll have to think a bit to figure out what I want.”

✦ “Of course! We wouldn’t... leaf you out.”

Mira chuckles at that.

◉ “That’s so bad Siffrin!”

The others start to round the corner. Odile waves at you all, bags in tow.

◆ “Caught these two on their way back. They sent that letter, charted a route, and I got all the supplies. Though Boniface did come up with a few extra suggestions, so I’ll grab those before we go.”

▲ “What were you two talking about?”

◉ “Siffrin has a fun idea before we all leave!”

✦ “Yeah! But first, since you’re all here, want a proper lesson on wishcraft?”

◆ “Well, I’m not opposed, Loop only gave us the short version.”

✿ “The cool magic stuff?! Crab Yeah, I wanna know!”

▲ “I’m super interested! It comes from your home right? It’d be nice to know a bit more!”

You nod enthusiastically, and pull out the main book! Oh Stars your excited to do this again, you love talking about this, and this time they’ll remember it! Which means you can talk about extra stuff later!

◆ “Ah, You have a book ready and everything?”

✦ “Yeah, it’s all island speak so they didn’t mind giving it to me, since right now only I can read it.”

▲ “Oohh so this would be proper lost knowledge. I’m even more excited!”

Oh, lets do that teacher bit again, you liked doing that, actually.

✦ “Sit down, class, and we can begin!”

You get a few chuckles out of that. They take your seats and you begin.

You explain the stars, the constellations, the way the many worlds contribute to wishes, the way your world does the same, The way rituals are made, the way their guided, the types there are to use. You make sure to let Bonnie know about the paper cranes, and on request, you also explain how the king did their wish. It brings a bit of a damper on things, but then you explain the wishing tree wish.

As you read it out, you see that that name and title, and it brings down your heart a bit.

▲ “Something wrong Sif?”

You… Guess you should mention it. Being quiet about things like this worked out poorly last time… And they kinda already know about what happened so...

✦ “It’s just. This ritual was made by the real Siffrin. And lists them by full name and title. And well… I didn’t know beforehand…”

◆ “Title? They were a notable figure then, I presume.”

✦ “… Crown Prince, Siffrin Polaris.”

✿ “WHAT!!!”

◉ “Wait, really?!”

✦ “Yeah… I don’t want to think about it too much…”

▲ “Oh. Fair enough, that must bring up some complicated feelings.”

◉ “… Okay. But I will have to show you something later!”

You nod, and close the book, putting them back away in your cloak. Your a little curious why Mira would have something to add to that, but… later.

✦ “Regardless, now that you know all of that, I have a favor to ask!”

◆ “Really? I’m interested, what do you have in mind?”

✦ “The original Siffrin made that ritual as a gift for Vaugarde, and as such, I’d like my fellow saviors to be the first to learn, and more notably, properly use it! So, before we leave town today, If any of you have an idea for a wish, I ask that you do so!”

✿ “Coolest! Homework! Ever!!”

▲ “Hm… I’m gonna have to think for a bit.”

◆ “I presume that does not include yourself, given everything?”

You nod. You think you’ve had enough wishcraft to last several lifetimes. Helping others do it is okay, fun even! But STARS you are never doing it again.

◉ “It should be something small, just in case! But it has to be something we care about.”

✿ “Well, I already asked to see Nille already, and don’t wanna double wish. Specially since everyone else got theirs granted, so I don’t wanna mess that up.”

Huh, they did, didn’t they? Isa saved you, Mira helped save Vaugarde, and Odile won their coinflip. Strange, they didn’t do the ritual right, but it still worked out? Weird! Maybe it’s enough that they visited the tree?

✿ “I’ll just think of something else!”

◆ “Hm… I’ll go ahead and do mine now then, I’ve had an idea for one for a bit now.”

Odile gets up, and starts looking around the tree for a leaf. She eventually finds a very smooth, flattened one, and whispers into it four times, then lets it go on the wind. As it flies off into the breeze, you smell a bit of sugar.

Suddenly, in a bright gleam, a book appears in her hands.

◆ “Well then! That’s efficient.”

✿ “WOAH!!!!!”

◉ “That’s So Cool!!”

▲ “Oh that is so crabbing awesome.”

She flips through the pages quickly.

◆ “Hm, yes, this is exactly what I needed, and seems to come with the side bonus of being able to read Islander… And this frankly terrible handwriting, Gems.”

✦ “Islander? What did you wish for?”

She raises up the book, and shows you the title.

Project Starchild Research Notes, by Siffrin.

◆ “Wished to know more about YOU, of course. Should save us some time. And already, some intriguing details, right on the cover!”

◉ “Really, like what?”

◆ “For starters, these notes are about a ‘Project Starchild’. Which gives some ideas for your origins, doesn’t it? And the fact it was written by the original Siffrin… Makes me wonder if you remembering them isn’t a coincidence.”

▲ “Hey, might even get to know a bit about your past! That could be nice!”

◆ “And help mitigate some concerns you may have. With that done, Anyone want to go next?”

Everyone thinks for a bit, now putting a bit more effort into their ideas…

◉ “Oh! I think I have an idea! It’d be really hard to do normally, but it should be simple enough!”

Mirabelle looks around for a leaf, and picks a very round leaf. Avid follower of Change as usual! She breathes her wish into the leaf three times, and lets it go onto the wind.

You smell sugar again... And then suddenly, a powerful floral scent?! Mira’s stumbles to the ground.

✦ “Mira!? Are you okay?!”

You rush to her side, and briefly see… A hint of violet in her eyes?

◉ “I-I’m okay! I don’t know what just happened?”

Huh?!???? Her voice! It… You can hear it in that sound only you can hear!!!

✦ “Mira. What did you wish for?”

◉ “I-I just wanted to know more about the Change God! You said we met them, and It got me thinking and… Is something bad, was that not Okay?!”

… OH. Wait a second… Her voice sounds familiar.

✦ “… You’re good. It’s just uh. Your voice. I wasn’t expecting that.”

◉ “Huh? My voice?… Wait, it does sound different? Why would that be the case?”

✦ “… It sounds like the Change Gods.”

▲ “Huh?!? It sounds normal to me?!”

✦ “It’s kinda in this sound normal people can’t hear. But this seems an odd way to fulfill that wish, and wishcraft doesn’t smell so floral normally...”

◆ “… Did the Change God interfere? If Mirabelle gained a trait of the change god then…”

Mirabelle’s expression goes to a mild nervous panic.

◉ “...Oh Change, what did they do to me?”

Heh. In hindsight, this sees fairly in character for them. Even when talking with you, they were often fairly light hearted, and they did like Mira a bunch.

✦ “Looks like the change god is quite the trickster!”

◉ “Only for the best effect! (⌒▽⌒)☆”

Mirabelle covers her mouth in surprise. You all just sort of look at her in surprise. She waits a few seconds before speaking again.

◉ “T-That was them… wasn’t it?”

✦ “Yep…”

◆ “Ah. I presume that means… You’ve literally become part change.”

She just stands there unmoving, before letting out a massive sigh.

◉ “Oh no….”

▲ “I, for one, accept our new Demigod!”

◆ “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it quiet, lest rumors about you get worse.”

◉ “Please. I don’t think my heart could take it!”

Well. That wish didn’t go as smoothly as you’d like, but you can’t exactly blame the ritual for that.

✦ “Okay, lesson learned, don’t make wishes involving the change god.”

▲ “… But. If it can contact beings like that… Then maybe… I think I know what I’m gonna wish for.”

✦ “What do you mean?”

▲ “I know you said just wish for small stuff but… I have to try this.”

◉ “Please don’t do anything rash!”

▲ “Don’t worry this should be fine!”

Isa looks through the leaves, finds a leaf already bent in half, and whispers their wish five times into the leaf.

As they let it into the wind. You feel something stir. As Isa begins to glow Red…

And promptly collapses!

▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲

What the… What happened? You felt weirdly faint and then… Where are you?

It’s dark all around. You don’t even see the ground.

You feel something behind you. You turn, and see a single, massive eye, in that strange shade, towering over you as it stares at you. It’s bigger then the whole crabbing house!!! And… It’s no normal eye. It’s like Sif’s new ones but. It’s like one horizontal slit, with multiple vertical ones across it. But still oddly star-like. Speaking of stars, you see many start to fill the space around you.

A feminine yet otherworldly voice echoes through every fiber of your being.

✧ “Greetings. Child of Mankind. You have made… a Most interesting Wish.”

You don’t know how to respond. Crab, you don’t even know who this is!! Your heart is pounding out of your chest. Crab, Crab, Crab this isn’t good!!!!

✧ “I am the Empress Arcana. And I have chosen to take charge of your wish. For while you wish to speak with one of my fellow fragments… Another has made a wish that may be merged with yours, if you are willing to accept.”

Okay, breath, breathe. You gotta do this for Loop. You aren’t leaving any version of Sif alone.

▲ “Uh.. I uh. Just wanted to talk to Loop. Wasn’t… expecting this.”

✧ “The one you knew as Loop has become one with the Fool Arcana. And while your wish may grant you but a handful of words, so detached from reality as we are… Someone has wished for me to bless another with true Communion. To Give another the Royal Blessing.”

...You’d only get one talk with Loop otherwise?… No, they deserve better then that! You won’t let them be alone.

▲ “… I’ll hear you out. What’s this involve?”

✧ “You would be given the power to call to us, your very Blood infused with my own power. And if need be, summon us into the world, at a price. Even without us present, we will expend no cost to keep you alive. And when we ARE summoned, the power of the universe itself will be at your beck and call. For in doing this, you would become our hope.”

▲ “Your hope?”

✧ “We Arcana were once one. And we yearn to be whole again. We can only do so when all of us are returned to the world at once. You need not summon us all yourself, your gentle heart would not willingly shed such blood. But… This blessing can be passed down through your bloodline. And if even one of them lives, then there is a chance we may return.”

This… Is way more then you were bargaining for. Dangerous power, costly prices, and a hell of a responsibility… But you guess, Someone’s gonna have to do it. And given Loop’s one of them now, maybe It’ll help them out. They took on rougher responsibilities anyways.

▲ “…That’s… a heavy responsibility… But. I guess. Loop deserves my best, for all they did for us. So, okay.”

✧ “There are two caveats. One knowledge you should know. And one a task you must complete.”

You breathe in and out. Change, Isa, you really have gotten into something way bigger then you should have...

… But you knew something like this might happen, the moment you made that wish. You knew that whatever Loop dabbled in to become whatever they were, it wasn’t gonna be pretty. But you aren’t gonna back down now.

▲ “Alright, I’m ready.”

✧ “First. I know not who made this wish for a New Royal Blessing. There are few who even know of such things. And to give this much power yet evade us… They will have plans. Plans that you will be wrapped into. And We may not protect you from this if it serves our interests. We sadly cannot afford to.”

Harsh. But… You get it. They need this… You get the feeling they don’t have many options.

▲ “Alright. That’s okay, We can handle it.”

✧ “Indeed. Even if we cannot protect you… I know the fallen star you cherish will… it is good they found you. They deserve your kind heart.”

Fallen star?...Do they mean Sif? Madame did mention they might be a 'starchild', but what does that mean?

✧ “Finally, my task… We do not give this blessing lightly. We cannot risk it on the weak. You must prove yourself strong enough to follow this path…"

Oh you do not like the sound of that...

✧ “To defeat me would be unfair. So. I simply ask that you survive my trial. But do not think I will be merciful. If you fail. Your life is forfeit.”

You watch as titanic claws of twisted pale flesh, adorned with Gold and gemstones, eyes and faces peering from the skin’s surface. You tremble, you have no idea what the crab you can even do about this!!!

You hesitate knowing this will be very dangerous. You’re putting your whole life on the line…

But the sheer thought. Of ANY version of Sif. ESPECIALLY one that’s gone through as much as they have. Being stuck. Alone?...

You know this is your last chance to back out but…

▲ “...Okay. Let’s do this.”

You raise your fists. You will win this.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

You try and shake Isa awake!! Nonononono Please please let them be okay!! Blind it you should have stopped them! Shouldn’t have asked any of this! Please!! Let them be Okay!!!

Wait… You watch as Isa’s hair alights a bright Red for a brief second! And then, when it fades, it seems like a slightly darker shade then before?

He opens his eyes, now a matching shade to his hair.

▲ “...Hey Sif. Sorry for scaring you.”

You cry. Blind it! Blind him for scaring you like that!

◆ “Gems Alive, what did you even wish for that could have caused that?!”

Isa coughs up some blood! Stars!!!

▲ “Sorry, I uh. Just kinda fought a god? I think? No idea what that was.”

◉ “I have SEVERAL questions?!???”

▲ “Sorry! Sorry. I just. I wished to be able to talk to Loop. Turns out, that’s a complicated situation. But hey, I think I should be able to talk to them whenever now!… Might want to wait till I’ve recovered though.”

He wished for?… Of course. He really cares about you. EVERY version of you… That he’d go so far…

✦ “Please don’t do that again…”

▲ “Course Sif. I Promise! Sides, kinda part of the contract... I’ll explain later!”

Mirabelle gives Isa some healing, and they sit down in a comfy spot.

✿ “… You all picked funny wishes. Guess I gotta do this wish!”

Bonnie goes up to the tree, and grabs a leaf with a few worm bites taken out of it. They whisper something into it six times, and then let it go into the wind.

You smell sugar, but nothing happens. Bonnie looks unfazed.

✿ “Aw. Kinda hopin something would happen. Guess it’ll just kick in later.”

✦ “What did you wish for?”

✿ “Well you had to deal with a lot of stuff that none of us remember. And it’s super crabbin annoying, cause we can’t talk about it!”

✿ “So I just did the smart thing and just wished to member it.”

...Bonnie… Wants to remember. The timeloop? Oh no...

▲ “Oh that isn’t good.”

✿ “I know it’s not gonna be nice, Frin had a bad time, but somebody’s gotta know bout it! Sides, it can’t be that crabbin bad!”

Odile points at the spiderlily. STARS you didn’t even consider that, and you were already about to gag from your own memories.

✿ “Oh. Crab. Right.. Do those count? I mean, they kinda stopped bein Frin, so...”

◆ “I suppose you’ll find out, probably.”

You still can’t get that blinding taste out of your mouth, you feel like your going to choke, it’s hard to think. Breathe. Breathe.

◉ “Siffrin?”

Blind, it you… You have to warn them!

✦ “B-Bonnie. I… Even if they don’t, it’s… It’s not good. Mine weren’t… You… The king!”

▲ “Hey, Sif, calm down, it’s okay, it’ll be fine.”

✿ “Yeah, It’s okay, I knew it was gonna be bad, you can tell me later if I need to know, once we see if the crabbin wish did anything!”

Later. Okay. Later. Their right. Maybe they won’t even remember it, and it’ll just be a vague thing. You take some breaths, in and out, try not to think about that BLINDING memory. Shove it into the back of your mind. Don’t think about it, Don’t think about it.

◆ “Sigh Well, at least every wish got granted in some form, far as I can tell. Can’t deny it’s effectiveness, even if… Some of them were complicated.”

✦ “… Yeah, I think… That’s enough wishcraft for today. Lets… let’s head back to the clocktower for now.”

Everyone nods. As you walk away from the tree. You wonder if doing this was worth it in the end…

>>>

As you all rest in the clocktower, Most of you just resting from your exertions, while Bonnie makes some lunch. Mirabelle seems to be thinking really hard, trying to figure out her weird connection. Isa is nearly passed out from… whatever he just did. And Odile is flipping through her book.

◉ “… Um, Siffrin? I have an odd question. It might seem a little out of the blue but… I think, at some point yesterday, you mentioned having lost people you cared about?”

Oh…

◉ “S-Sorry! I know it... Must be a sore spot. I wouldn’t ask normally but… I kinda feel like it’s important?”

✦ “...Right. Change god did remind me of them in the first place. I had… honestly forgotten about them. Hard to remember anything from my old home.”

◆ “It must be rough. A few names do pop up in this book though… But I’m curious what you remember of them?”

✦ “Barely anything… Oh! But I do have a picture of at least one of them!”

You pull out that special device. Can’t remember what it’s called, still.

✿ “Woah! That looks fancy!”

Bonnie walks out with some nice grilled cheese sandwiches and soup.

✦ “Yeah! I can’t remember exactly what all it does, but I do know it can store pictures and stuff! I have a picture from when I lived on the Island here, but I can’t browse the rest of it, cause it gives me headaches.”

◉ “Oh! I wanna see!”

▲ “Absolutely, I wanna see young Sif! And their friend!”

You turn on the device as your family gathers round. They look at the pigtailed woman, and the old version of you.

Their about to make comments when suddenly, a weird symbol pops up on screen.

✦ “Huh? What’s tha-”

The device flashes with an odd light, and you all suddenly feel a bit dizzy.

◆ “Gah, gems, what was that?!”

◉ “I think it was some kind of craft?”

And right when you thought it couldn’t get any weirder, the device starts shaking, and an icon pulls up, with text in your home language next to it, and another picture of the pigtailed woman.

Call from Re. Answer?

✦ “Call from?…”

But… Who would even be able to call you? That’s impossible…

… You hit answer. You have to know...

[the-ultimate-muses]

@despairs-memorial welp time to kill gundham again (X)

Despite how poorly he tended to deal with social situations, most of which stemming from anxiety, Kazuichi enjoyed the parties Ibuki liked to throw. She always made sure everyone was having a good time, and because he'd help her set up her music equipment, he was paid in a fair share of booze. This time he'd even played along with her, Ibuki having been near beside herself when she learned Kaz knew how to play drums and could sing rather well. He hadn't been sure at first, but he was becoming better at coming out of his shell, part of which could be attributed to the fact he could hear now.

Of course, he'd turned his hearing aids off while they played, his drum beats being the right tone for his ears to catch, ensuring he played correctly. He didn't even have to worry about any syllables slipping while singing either, everything being so loud little mistakes like that were hardly noticed.

They'd only played a couple songs, enough to start everything off with the 'right vibes' as Ibuki had put it. Not that her parties ever flopped, each one somehow louder and bigger than the one before. The sheer size of her house helped as well, her parents often out of the country for their jobs. It was why Kazuichi didn't care how much he drank that night, knowing that there was a guest room with his name on it should he need it. Besides, if he was too late to snatch one up, Ibuki was always willing to let him crash in her huge bed, it apparently comforting how much of a space heater he was. Besides, he'd always slept better with someone to cuddle, as little it tended to happen.

Gundham was the last person he expected to see at any party, let alone one of Ibuki's, the mechnic feeling his face shift into a grin through the warm haze of drink, it being the aftermath of a few rounds of beer pong (that he won, thank you very much).

Slipping his way through the crowd, it was hard to tell if his stumble into the breeder was due to being tripped, or simply the alcohol, the flush on Kaz's cheeks speaking as to just how carefree he felt. "Heeeyyyy, Gunnie! Hey, did- Did you see- Did- When I was playin' th' drums and singin' and stuff?" Asked where he was currently clinging to the breeder's coat, it having been used as a crutch to keep upright after his stumble. "Hey, do you 've th' devas? I like the fat one. He's soooo fat, it's the best."

[sillysistersusi]

Style It The Way You Want

I made this little story for the second day of the dadrius week 2023 (fashion), it's a little late but better than never🥰😊 I hope you like what I did

You can also find this story on my ao3 and wattpad accounts

@sergeantsporks

So here it is:

When Darius had asked Hunter if he wanted to live with him, Hunter hadn't been quite sure why he was asking. Did Darius perhaps need someone to help him with the household chores? But Hunter quickly realized that wasn't the case. When he first wanted to do the dishes, Darius had only said that he would always have one of his abominations do them and that Hunter could just relax and do something else.

So why did he want Hunter to live with him? What did he want from Hunter if not to do the housework for him?

It all really confused him and Hunter increasingly didn't know what to make of certain situations he was thrown into.

Whenever Darius asked him about his interests, Hunter evaded and said he didn't have any or he was still thinking about things. It was better not to stand out too much in case Hunter liked something that Darius didn't like. He certainly didn't want the abomination coven head to kick him out again just because he couldn't just be quiet and pretend to be an ordinary and undamaged kid.

But Hunter especially tried to keep it a secret that he loved to wear colorful clothes. He had never seen Darius in colors other than purple, black, and white.

Besides, he and Darius had been at the market in Bonesborough the other day and there had been a sweater hanging on one of the stalls that Hunter had liked immediately. It had been light blue and had had flowers and different colors and shapes and in the middle of the front had been a big orange heart embroidered on it.

But Darius had just wrinkled his nose and asked a little disgusted, "Who would buy something like that?

And so Hunter had decided not to wear anything that Darius would call ugly. He loved fashion and Hunter knew that Darius would probably kick him out if he wore something Darius didn't think was good enough.

Hunter had once tried to add something more colorful and individual to his golden guard uniform. It had been a simple colorful flower patch that he had sewn onto his dark trousers rather poorly, but Belos had not been at all pleased by the idea. He had freaked out immediately when he had seen the colorful patch on Hunter's pants.

So when Hunter and Darius went shopping a few days into Hunter's second week at Darius' house, because one morning Darius said, "The four outfits you own can hardly be called a whole closet." Hunter tried to ignore everything he thought was beautiful.

They were already in the second store. In the first, Hunter had chosen the two plainest pairs of shoes, although he would much rather have had the bright red ones they sold there as well.

Now Hunter pulled everything off the hangers that looked like something Darius would wear, only a little plainer, after all, Hunter didn't want Darius to think he was trying to replace him or anything.

But no matter what Hunter did, his eyes kept wandering over to this one colorful skirt that was hanging on a hanger on the wall a little further back.

It was a pink skirt with different colored dots on it and Hunter really wanted to try it on, but he knew there was nothing about it that Darius would like and he didn't want to upset Darius.

Hunter had had one more scar on his leg as a result, when Belos had been mad at him back then, because Belos had lashed out with the green goop and ripped the patch off his pants, though he hadn't been very careful about it, so Hunter had limped back to his room afterwards with tears in his eyes.

Hunter didn't want Darius to have a reason to be mad at him, because Hunter really liked living with him. He didn't want Darius to kick him out, because it was really nice to have someone there to ask him every morning how he was feeling and if he slept well. And he just didn't want to lose that.

But Hunter tended to do things he shouldn't. So he took a quick look around for Darius, and when he was sure the man was busy, he sprinted through the rows of clothes to grab the skirt. He pulled the garment off the hanger and hid it among the rest of the plainer clothes he had already picked out.

Hunter wasn't planning on actually buying the skirt, he just wanted to look in the dressing room mirror and see what it looked like on him. And he probably could risk that.

Hunter walked over to Darius, who was struggling through a collection of purple pants and was looking at one of them as if he wasn't sure if he should buy it or not. That's when he noticed Hunter. "Oh, little prince, did you find something too?"

"Yes, I was going to suggest that we could go to the changing rooms now. Of course, only if you're ready, too. "He added the last sentence quickly, so as not to seem disrespectful, after all, he owed Darius at least that, even if he still didn't quite understand why Darius would want Hunter to live with him.

But Darius just nodded, "It's probably better that way. If I keep looking for clothes, I'll take more home with me later than you will."

Hunter opened his mouth briefly to ask what would be so bad about that, but then closed it again without having said anything.

"I say that because we're here to restock your wardrobe, not mine, little prince," Darius said, who seemed to have Hunter figured out. Hunter pressed his lips together and tried to look as emotionless as possible. Belos had always used it against him when he knew what Hunter was thinking or feeling, and Hunter didn't want to find out if Darius would do the same.

So they headed for the changing rooms. On the way they passed several dresses, pants and sweaters that Hunter would have liked to take with him and try on instead of the plain clothes, but he had to stick to his plan. His heart sank more and more the closer they got to the changing rooms, as if he knew he was making a mistake.

In the changing room, he first put on one of the plain outfits and showed it to Darius. Darius said that it would fit Hunter, but he didn't seem to 'feel' it. But Hunter had no idea what that meant. And anyway, wasn't the real purpose of clothing to fit him?

Hunter only understood what Darius meant when he tried on the skirt second, along with a purple T-shirt. He seemed happier immediately, like a completely different person. The skirt fell fluffy and airy around his legs and Hunter grinned childishly to himself as he turned a little and the skirt moved with him.

"Hunter? "That was Darius' voice, "Show me the next outfit. Judging by your laugh, you seem to like it a lot."

Hunter slapped a hand over his mouth. Had he laughed without realizing it? Apparently he had. But now Darius expected him to present an outfit that he 'felt'. But everything else Hunter had taken into the changing room with him was stuff that didn't really excite Hunter. Besides, he didn't have time to put on another outfit without it looking weird.

"Hunter, dear, is everything okay? "Darius sounded concerned, but somehow that only made Hunter more nervous.

He needed to get out of here. Everything seemed so tight all of a sudden. Even the skirt. Hunter took off the clothes and threw them on the floor. Then he reached for his familiar clothes and frantically put them on.

At that moment, he heard Darius' voice say, "Try to breathe, Hunter. It's all right."

It sounded like Darius stepped back from the door to give Hunter some space, and Hunter took that opportunity to rush out of the changing room and head for the exit. He heard Darius call behind him, "Hunter! Wait!"

But then he was already out of the store and running down the street, past confused looking witches and demons.

He didn't know where to run at all. The only person he could think of, except for Darius, but he wouldn't have been an option in this situation anyway, was Camila. But Hunter knew that Camila would tell him to just talk to Darius about everything.

So Hunter stopped and leaned against a cool stone wall in a side alley and slowly lowered himself to the ground. What on earth had he been thinking? He didn't even want to imagine how mad Darius would be if he found him. Or maybe he wouldn't look for him at all, but simply decide Hunter wasn't worth the trouble.

He pulled his legs to his chest and buried his face in his arms. Only now did tears well up in his eyes and he began to cry.

Hunter had no idea how long he had been sitting there when he heard Darius' voice ask, "Hunter? Is it okay if I sit with you?"

But Hunter was not able to register the words at all. When he looked up a few seconds later, face tear-stained and eyes all red, Darius had crouched to the floor some distance away and seemed to be making himself as small as possible so as not to tower over Hunter in a threatening manner.

"You need to take a deep breath, little prince. "Darius said, his voice sounding incredibly soft and little more than a whisper.

And only then did Hunter realize he was hyperventilating. Slowly he stretched out his fingers and did the counting exercise Gus had shown him.

"It's going to be okay." and "You're doing very well." Darius whispered in between, which helped to calm Hunter down even more.

After a while of trying to breathe deeply, he started to feel a little better.

Darius smiled softly, yet somewhat sadly, and nodded to the asphalt next to Hunter. "May I?"

Hunter just nodded and Darius slowly and carefully sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry. "Darius said softly and as Hunter was about to say something in reply he continued, "I seem to have made you feel like you can't talk to me about anything, and for that I am truly sorry. Whatever it is that made you run away, you can tell me. Really."

Hunter avoided Darius' gaze and looked down at his feet, which he scuffed a little nervously across the asphalt. "I- well- " He took another deep breath, literally feeling the air rush through his lungs. So he tried again, "I didn't want you to be mad."

"Why would I be mad at you, little prince?" asked Darius gently.

"Because- "Hunter looked up at him and blinked away tears that threatened to burst from his eyes again.

"It's all good. Take your time. "Darius said.

Hunter avoided his gaze again as he asked softly, "Can you hold me? Just- just for a second I- never mind. Forget what I said! That was really stupid, I- "

But Darius stretched out his arms and looked at Hunter with a loving, concerned look. He put one hand on Hunter's back and pulled him closer. The other hand he used to gently caress the back of Hunter's head.

"What is it that's troubling you, little prince?" asked Darius, but his voice still sounded just gentle.

"I don't understand why," Hunter began, tears running down his cheeks again. He snuggled closer to Darius and held onto the front of his shirt, afraid Darius would let him go again, "I don't understand why you took me in. I don't understand what you want from me."

"I- Hunter, I want you to be okay. In the last few days before the day of unity, I really realized how wrong I've been all this time and what a wonderful child you are. I wanted to prevent you from being hurt again. I'm sorry, I should have made my intentions clear from the beginning, little prince," Darius said, gently rocking Hunter back and forth.

"I thought- I thought it would be a good idea in fashion- well, to stick to what you're wearing. B- Belos, he- he never liked it when I- well- when I tried to be myself. And I guess I kind of thought you'd react similarly. "Hunter murmured, closing his eyes as the soft warmth of Darius' body made him feel safe.

"You can wear whatever you want," Darius said, gently stroking a hand through his hair, which was still disheveled from his hasty escape, "but I figured it was something like that."

"How- "

"The colorful skirt on the floor," Hunter could hear Darius' smile in his voice, "I bought that skirt, by the way. Because judging from your laugh, you liked it a lot. And tomorrow we'll go out shopping again, and I want you to choose whatever you like, not what you think I might like."

Hunter broke away from the hug and looked at Darius with a wide smile that showed the gap in his teeth.

"I- thank you Darius. "he said, feeling his ears turn a little red.

Darius pulled him into a hug again and nuzzled him gently. "I want you to know that the only thing I want from you is for you to be happy."