#just some friendly tip if you want to make him speak more accurately

[nouverx]

As a french person, it's kinda funny to me when fanfic writers make Alastor speak french, and it's always things like "Bonjour mon cher, je t'aime" you know, typical french words from the main France french most people learn here and there.

The thing is, Alastor knows french creole from Louisiana, which isn't the usual France french most people know. Alastor would speak like "Bonjou konmen to yê?" Or "Mo laimm twa" instead ahah.

Also, there's different versions of french creole, the one from Louisiana is not exactly the same from Antillean Creole or French Guianese Creole. If you want here's an example to what Louisiana Creole sounds like!

So yeah if you want to spice up your fics and be more accurate with your Alastor speaking french creole, dont be afraid to look out for Louisiana Creole expressions instead of the typical french you'd normally use! Makes it more fun and more accurate 💃

[ryosmne]

Tattoo Artist! Sukuna x reader (part 3)

Hey there again, I had a few ideas of where i wanted to take the third part, I'm very happy with what I came up with, it's very very fluffy, I hope you have a good time reading 💜.

Series masterlist here

Here's a playlist for fluffy Sukuna

Warnings: Language, suggestive tones, alcohol consumption (everyone is of age here, around 21/22), nudity? Not really described, that's about it.

Saturday was slow for Sukuna, he doesn't really like working away his weekends, but here he is, finishing up a chest piece that looked good if he had to say so himself. Everything was luckluster to him compared to the project he was still drafting for y/n.

Speaking of her she hadn't texted him all day, neither did Sukuna. He told himself he wasn't clingy like that, she texted him before she would do it again surely. Y/n didn't pay much mind to him not making contact, perhaps he was busy. She wasn't wrong, she also had initiated most of their text conversations, she didn't want to seem desperate. Sukuna was going to contact her when he was free.

On the other hand Sukuna was stressed, passing in the hallway between the reception and his work booth, checking his phone every once in a while, he was a bit snappier than usual, not letting Gojo's or Megumi's remarks go, he would answer back, his voice almost dripping with venom, he was very much pissed and it showed.

When closing time finally came he was ready to blow up, Gojo teasing him, only made him more agitated. Gojo knew something was bothering him and he wasn't planning on dropping the subject.

"Hey 'kuna, tell the truth, you took her out and she left because she couldn't stand you, that's why you're so mad."

The white haired man joked, you could see the smoke coming out Sukuna's ears.

"Don't call me that. For your information, me and y/n had a great time, quit being an bumbass I'm not mad." Y/n did enjoy herself right? It sure looked like it. Was Sukuna getting insecure? Yes. Could everyone tell he was lying about not being mad? Also Yes.

"Oh so it's 'you and y/n' now? You were right Geto, he's got it real bad, he's not even calling her 'some girl' or something."

Gojo continued to laugh, he was enjoying every single second of torment he was putting Sukuna through.

He had enough though, he grabbed his jacket and his keys, but just before he left the rest of his crew and Yuuji, who came to eat with Megumi to close, he called to the most rational person inside. "Geto, come on I'll drive you home." Sukuna needed someone to talk to, he needed to know he was in the right and not going totally insane. Nanami was really close to him but relationships wasn't a topic he would really touch on. Gojo was out of the question, the man was a womaniser, not that it was a bad thing but he wouldn't even take Sukuna seriously, he only wanted to annoy him for the time being. Megumi was also a no. He would spill the beans to Yuuji, he already had Gojo on his ass he didn't need two more idiots making fun of him, one was barely tolerable. That only left Geto, who has at least had a few solid relationships and he was trustworthy enough not to give him too much shit.

Geto grabbed the chance not to have to clean for one night, but he was very curious about Sukuna's sudden move to give him a ride home, he has never offered that before. Yuuji had tipped him off, he knew his brother wanted to get all of the attention, if y/n didn't make a move, his brother would go insane. He was surprisingly right, so Yuuji told Geto to try and get his brother riled up. Now Geto didn't exactly agree, but he wanted to give Sukuna a friendly nudge to the right direction.

Sukuna had already been driving for a little while, he couldn't find the courage to open his mouth and talk. Has he gone mad? Its not like he's clueless about girls, he's had many. Why was it different this time?

"So how come you wanna drive me around at night?" The raven haired man asked, eyebrow raised, ready to hear what his friend was so on edge for all day, even though he had an idea. Sukuna wasn't one to share feelings, he never did, he couldn't really tell anyone the reason why not a single word from y/n all day irked him so damn much. "Look, so let's say there's this girl right? You take her out, you have fun, everything is cruising perfectly, but then she doesn't really talk to you the next day." He said with a small pause "hypothetically speaking" He added, just to avoid further questions.

Geto looked at him with a blank face, although he couldn't really believe in his ears, Yuuji was right, he knew his friend was falling face first, it still surprised him. He saw the day that Sukuna was stressed for a girl, if someone told him even two weeks ago that this was going to happen happen, Geto most definitely would've laughed straight in their face.

"Well it depends really, for example did you text her and she didn't answer? Then yeah, she's not interested, but maybe she's busy, or she started texting first and she wants you to initiate." Sukuna blinked "You're right she's busy, she has a test too, maybe she has been studying, she'll come around." He said, the words came fast out of his mouth. Geto looked at him again more serious this time. "Look man, I know for a fact, you haven't texted first, you seem to really like her, don't be a pussy and send her one text." His tone was equally serious. "I'm just fond of her, that's all she's good company." Sukuna tried to brush him off, Geto wouldn't budge. "Call it what you want, I know you like the feisty ones, so do many people and you know how college kids are, one party is all it takes to lead to who knows what. Man up, when you do you can bring her around the shop too, you know we all would love to meet her." By the time Geto finished his sentence, Sukuna had already parked outside of his apartment to drop him off, they shared their good nights.

For the rest of his lonely drive home Sukuna couldn't help but think of that party his brother mentioned a couple nights ago, was y/n going to be there? And Geto's words kept replaying in his head.

Geto was smiling to himself walking inside his apartment knowing he did the right thing giving his friend a slight push.

With her hair just the way she liked it, her make-up done and an outfit that extenuated her best features, y/n was making her way down the street to meet up with Mai outside of Todo's place. The walk wasn't too long and y/n caught a glimpse of her short haired friend, who was also dressed to impress, standing right out of Todo's door.

"You didn't wait long did you?" Y/n asked, Mai smilled and shook her head, she was the late one most of the time, she did make it just a second before y/n arrived.

"Let's go, my sister and Nobara are waiting" she informed y/n, who nodded. "Really, I haven't seen Maki in a while, Nobara rarely shows up in class too." She said full of excitement, the girls were friends for a long while, even before college. Mai and y/n ended up forming closer friendship.

"Yeah they're about to remind us of how single we are." Mai loved her sister with all her heart, she was very competitive though and when Maki got with Nobara before Mai could strike up a boyfriend in college, she took it a bit personally. Then she focused her attention on finding someone for y/n, but that never went well. Hopping right up the stairs both girls were talking about what they would see tonight, more accurately who. "So Yuuji is probably going to be here, I asked Todo" Mai said her eyes hopefull, y/n rolled her's and her companion didn't let it go unnoticed. "I really don't get you, he's cute, you even said so." There she goes again, but y/n wouldn't let it slide this time. "You seem way more giddy to see him, than I do." She said, knocking on Todo's door who was waiting right behind it, answering in seconds. Mai was still dumbfounded, she hardly acknowledged Todo at the door and made her way inside with y/n.

Thankfully the sofa on Todo's living room they usually sat on was only occupied by Maki and Nobara. "Wow sis you made it on time for once without someone dragging you out the house." Maki hugged her sister tightly, "I didn't really have a choice, y/n said she would go home if I was late again." Mai, said with a bit of a whine. Nobara went for y/n. "She's giving you hell huh?" Her comment made the girl laugh. "Nah she's fine, she can be a bit of a baby." That line made Mai slap her arm playfully, even when they made digs at each other, it was all in good fun.

Y/n could see Mai out the corner of her eye scanning the room, it wasn't unusual for her to do that, but it was the fourth time the past 30 minutes they've been here. Something was definitely up with her, and when she raised her hand having finally spotted the one she was looking for, y/n was a hundred percent sure of what was going on.

"Yuuji, over here" Mai called hand in the air, a very friendly smile on her face. Yuuji eagerly walked over offering his greetings, his attention was on y/n "Hey, has my brother texted you at all?" That was an out of the blue question. Mai gave her a look "His brother?" She questioned, then looked back at Yuuji "You've got a brother?" Why did he have to say that infront of Mai, she wouldn't leave her alone until she told her everything about the guy, she was at least thankful he didn't mention a date, Sukuna probably hadn't mentioned anything to him. "Oh yeah, he's the one I went to last week and no Yuuji he hasn't, did something happen?" Mai stayed silent, so did the other girls, they planned on interrogating her later, judging by the looks they exchanged. "Oh it's nothing" Yuuji let out a breathy laugh, knowing he plotted with Geto to get under his brother's skin. Payback for the bagels he baked at 4 am was going to be sweet.

Yuuji took a seat next to Mai, who introduced him to her sister, Nobara already knew him short of and the two of them begun chatting casually. Y/n could see the chemistry between them as he complimented the dark haired girl on the way she looked tonight. She could see their eyes meeting, something more than friendliness resided in the looks they shared.

Y/n let her friend have her fun, at this point Maki and Nobara had adopted her taking shots, talking about the annoying situations that have occurred in the time they hadn't seen each other. Nobara in particular, was sharing her frustrations about men not taking her seriously as Maki's significant other and continuing to make moves on her partner. "I shut them down" Maki said proudly snaking an arm around her girlfriend's waist. "I know you do, I just want them to feel a bit threatened" Nobara's eyes drifted to the floor . "What are you talking about? Remember the time you just looked at that guy eyeing her and he mouthed 'sorry'? You're very threatening." Y/n took another shot laughing with the two girls. Her comment was quite comforting to Nobara and Maki knew that things always went Nobara's way, she just liked complaining sometimes, she was the jealous type.

Todo with Takada in hand, who arrived right after y/n and Mai, answers his door again for the multipluth time this evening, seeing the last person he expected. "I thought you were too old for house parties" he taunted at the grumpy man infront of him. "Screw you I'm 26, and I didn't come empty handed" Sukuna spoke, his tone getting a bit friendlier at the last words in his sentence. He passwd the two bottles of vodka he held to Todo. "Well come on in, Yuuji's brother is also mine" he said giving the pink haired man a friendly hug.

Sukuna's eye scanned his living room untill his eyes landed on the back of y/n's head, he headed straight her way.

Y/n heard a few girls around her making a fuss over some apparently really hot guy who just entered, but she didn't bother turning around. That was until she heard it "Huh, who would've known, you actually have friends" That voice was unmistakably his. Sukuna was here. Y/n's heart was fluttering in her chest but the alcohol in her system made it easy to come up with a comeback. "At least I don't pay mine to hang around me." She said, her voice laced with sarcasm, she still didn't turn to face him, she was frozen in place. Mai's, Maki's, Yuuji's and Nobara's eyes were wide and dancing between the two. There was for sure something going on here. Sukuna took a seat beside her casually draping an arm around the back of the sofa. "You're hurting my feelings doll, I'm not that bad" he spoke so softly, she almost got lost looking into his eyes. He looked way too good for her liking, same jewelry and eyeliner as the last time she saw him, his pink her strategically messed up, a silk black button down with the top two buttons undone, exposing his defined collarbones and the tattoos that extended to his chest and neck, black pants framing his thighs perfectly as he sat. Y/n was staring at this point, her friends were silent, taking in the image that was displayed before them. They had never seen y/n flustered or having difficulty forming words. Even Yuuji was surprised, seems like he was wrong about y/n's taste.

Sukuna was enjoying the look on her face a little more than he cared to admit, he would've taken his teasing further, but he didn't want to embarrass the girl anymore and her friends were already shocked. "Aren't you going to introduce me?" He asked her poking her cheek, and y/n could see Nobara was about to blow up.

"Right, Mai, Maki and Nobara this is Sukuna, he's um my tattoo artist?" What was she even supposed to say at this point? The guy she went on a date with and had the best make out session of her life?

Sukuna gave his hand out to the girls greeting them, he noticed his brother a few seats over who was concealing a laugh "you're here too brat" he briefly egnowledged him, Yuuji hummed back a hello in return, turning to Mai who was very eager to hear the details of y/n's and Sukuna's relationship, he sure as hell didn't look like just her tattoo artist.

"Tattoo artist? Really? you don't even have tattoos y/n" Nobara spoke, she just wanted her friend to be honest with her, if she had someone special, she could have said so, they've known each other for years. Sukuna wasn't surprised to hear that y/n hadn't shared that she got tattooed, he could tell she was a bit of a private person.

Y/n took off her jacket that she still had on from when she arrived, to show off the design to Maki and Nobara, Mai had already seen it and she was busy gossiping with Yuuji anyways. "Right, I forgot to tell you" she said, as Maki and Nobara scanned her upper arm with their eyes, so did Sukuna. He couldn't help himself, y/n looked so beautiful in his work. He wanted to cover every inch of her skin she was willing to give him, she could be his personal work of art, she already was one, but he wanted to decorate her in the best way he could and with the most beautiful art he could make. "That looks so beautiful" Maki spoke in awe, Nobara gave a little laugh "it's creepy, but it's really you. "

She took a look at Sukuna then back at y/n "It's very fitting, I don't know how to explain it." She continued.

Sukuna never took compliments that seriously, but hearing y/n's seemingly bitchy friend praise his work and the perception he had of her made him grin widely.

The four of them continued to speak, Maki and Nobara were very interested in Sukuna's line of work, Mai and Yuuji also took their turns in talking when they weren't too busy with one another. Y/n's friends were doing great with Sukuna, she thought he would be really difficult, he has a very explosive personality. Sukuna was putting in all the effort to make a good impression, both to y/n and the ones around her.

"So, did you miss me that much you came to find me?" Y/n asked once the attention was taken off of them. Mai looked to be having a deep conversation with Yuuji whereas Maki and Nobara got up to dance. "And if I did?" Sukuna spoke, his face dangerously close to hers, when did he manage to get hip to hip with her? Then again y/n had grown so comfortable around him, she didn't notice.

"Well, if that's the case, I'm glad you did come." She replied, Sukuna could tell she was a bit tipsy, else he would be making out with her on that sofa not caring who was watching.

Y/n poured herself another drink, thank god she didn't have to get up to get a refill, but Sukuna's voice stopped her movements. "Maybe you should ease up there" he said watching her fill two cups.

Y/n raised a brow at him "since where are you a party pooper? come on it ain't a party without a drink" her voice was playful as she tried passing one cup to him. Sukuna liked this y/n too, she was a bit more giggly, she smiled a bit more, "I'm driving sweetheart". Y/n was satisfied with his answer and proceeded to gulp down on both the cups she filled before Sukuna could stop her. She laughed pointing at him with her tongue out "too slow". Sukuna could only smile and pat her head. She was something else.

Somewhere along the night, Maki and Nobara disappeared and so did Yuuji and Mai. "You better tell your brother to take good care of my friend" y/n's state was getting worse, or more hilarious, it depended on how you looked at it. Sukuna would straight up laugh with some of the things she said, and he was trying his best to keep all forms of alcohol away from her, for her own good. "I don't think you should worry, Yuuji is much better than me in these kinds of things." He replied honestly, but y/n didn't necessarily see it like that. "There's no way he's that smooth" she trailed, the corners of her lips tugging upward. "Well if I didn't know any better, I'd say you liked me, didn't you think I was a dick?" Sukuna asked "Still do" her smile only grew wider.

One thing was for sure, y/n was very demanding when drunk, Sukuna left her side for the first time all night to get her some water, cause she felt 'like SpongeBob under that lamp drying out'. Not even slightly bothered by her request, Sukuna was on his way back to her, that's when he saw some guy standing infront of her trying to talk to her. Y/n even in her not very conscious state didn't tolerate people who didn't respect her "Just one song, come on it won't hurt, you're alone after all" the guy, y/n didn't care to catch the name of said "look, I don't dance, not unless the company is worth it, and I'm here with someone, leave me alone, this is getting annoying" Sukuna observed laughing to himself. He didn't feel the need to intervene yet. Y/n didn't like getting bossed around that's for sure, nor did she need a knight in shining armour to protect her, not that he would mind doing that. Sukuna casually sat down beside her again, ignoring the guy who was still standing there for some reason. That irritated him, it was enough that he tried to make a move on her, but not leaving while he was right there rubbed him the wrong way, "Here you go sweetheart" He said handing her the glass, praying that she won't drop and break it, he threw a glare at the guy who finally took the hint and left. "Thank you 'kuna." Y/n spoke, in a tone totally different from the one she had moments ago.

The nickname alone made his heart jump. Gojo was quite annoying when he called him that, but hearing the same word rolling out of y/n's tongue was completely different. Sukuna couldn't tell why he was feeling that way, he didn't care though, all he knew was that even the air smelled sweeter, when he was around her.

"You don't dance unless the company is good?" He asked, genuinely curious "well yes, if I feel comfortable I'll dance, but I don't really do it that much" she said, eyes heavy looking all over Sukuna's frame. " I see, how about we dance?" Sukuna suggested, he rarely danced himself, y/n made him want to get out of his comfort zone, hell he's already at a house party thanks to her.

"Only if you take some shots with me." She smilled at him malevolently. "You're playing dirty, who's going to take you home if I'm drunk?" Sukuna just wanted to hear her drunken logic "It probably takes a bottle for you to get drunk, you're clumsy, drunk or not, you're probably going to kill me if I get in your car".

Sukuna was full blown laughing, but she was right, her head was still not gone, she could walk and talk fine, she was just more talkative and cheerful, couple of shots wouldn't hurt, he could walk her home after since she lived close by, he remembered the way and then walk back home himself. She also gave him the cutest look he'd ever seen, how could he deny her?

"Ok you win" he raised his hands in defeat and y/n couldn't be happier. She poured 4 shots for them, which they quickly consumed and they were off to dance.

She never pictured him as a dancer, y/n saw Sukuna as the very cool looking dude standing on the bar, probably drinking whiskey with a bit of ice.

Looks can be deceiving, Sukuna was spinning her around, their bodies were pressed together, guiding each other to the beat. Eyes were meeting, body heat was exchanged, they fit like puzzle pieces even like this. Y/n kept looking at the exposed skin of his neck, why did he have to look like that and be this close, her face only grew warmer once her eyes met his and then dropped to his lips. Its not that Sukuna didn't want to kiss her, he would most certainly prefer her to be sober and remember it clearly the next day.

Those last two shots y/n had, in addition to Sukuna's body against hers, made her vision a bit blurry and her knees weak. "Hey doll, everything ok? You with me?" He shook her lightly by the shoulders, he could tell she was growing tired and he noticed how her demeanor changed. "Mhm, I'm sleepy 'kuna" there she goes again, making his heart skip beats. Y/n would be giving him so much shit had she realised she made him feel like that. "Ok then, how about we take you home ?" Sukuna's voice was so mellow, almost like he was talking to a toddler.

He guided her out of the crowded house, Todo was nowhere to be found, so Sukuna couldn't really let him know he was leaving.

Y/n was leaning on him, walking slowly down the street towards her place, but she abruptly stopped and sat down.

"What's wrong?" Sukuna asked, his sound as mellow as before. She was down right adorable, sitting there with a pout of her face .

"My feet hurt" y/n complained, dramatically throwing her arms around, if it was any other person Sukuna would've droped them to fend for themselves. "Really? That's sad" he replied, dropping down to her level, she only nodded, women's shoes are the most uncomfortable thing in the world. Sukuna scooped her up in his arms and carried her bridal style the rest of the way, he couldn't have her complaining and it wasn't like she would remember much either. With her arms wrapped securely around his neck, y/n could feel the warmth creeping up her neck all the way up to her ears, she didn't see the satisfied smile Sukuna wore.

Today went a lot better than he expected. So well that the tiredness got to y/n before they reached her apartment. Sukuna watched as she fell asleep in his arms. What a strange girl, she had both shyness and attitude, she was dancing her heart out no more than 15 minutes ago yet she still managed to fall asleep as he carried her.

Reaching her building, luckily the main entrance was unlocked. Sukuna took a peek at her, he couldn't bring himself to wake her up, she looked so peaceful, but unfortunately he had to. "Hey, which floor are you on?" He whispered softly, that was enough to shake y/n awake. "Third" she whispered back. Sukuna took the elevator up, and he finally reached her hallway, he only wished she didn't get her floor wrong or it would look like he was trying to break into someone else's house. "Doll, can you point your door for me? I'll put you down for a bit, where are your keys?" Y/n pointed at her door, handed Sukuna her keys and groaned as he set her down to unlock it for her. "You're such a brat" he pointed out swinging the door open, her annoyed face looked even cutter under the barely lit hallway.

Lord knows how Sukuna managed to find the light switches in the dark but he made it, y/n looked completely out of it now. He picked her back up and tried a few doors to find her bedroom. He gently layed her on the mattress. Y/n groaned again and said something about being uncomfortable. Of course she was uncomfortable, with her clothes still on from going out, there's no way she wasn't.

He shouldn't care right? He should just let her be and go home, but Sukuna could already tell she would have an awful nights sleep and he wanted her to rest properly. "Were do you keep sleep clothes" he asked, y/n pointed lazily at some drawer. After briefly digging in the drawer, he took out a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie for her.

He reached her frame again, undoing her shoes, sliding them off, next he prompted y/n with her side resting on the headboard so he could have her sit up with her legs dangling of the side of her bed. His hands found the rim of her shirt, her voice stopped him "don't look ok?" Her voice was hardly above a whisper. "I won't look"

"Promise?" She asked holding out her pinky

"promise" he stated locking it.

Sukuna averted his eyes from her body and helped her into her comfy clothes. Only one thing remained "Now come on time to get your makeup off"

"Nooo, I want to sleep" she complained loudly, dropping her body backwards on the bed. "Come on, it's not good for your skin, it will just be a minute, just be good for me" he said grabbing her hand, but y/n turned her head away. That's when Sukuna threw her over his shoulder, the most she could do was weakly hit his back and tell at him to put her down.

Sukuna sat her somewhere in her bathroom, while she still mumbled about being sleepy. He got a washcloth wet, and took a look at the products in her cabinet, she surely had an oil cleanser he just had to find it... bingo.

He pushed her hair out of the way and gently applied and massaged the product on to her skin, giving her instructions to keep her eyes and mouth close, he was extra careful not to cut her with his nails, then he used the washcloth to remove all the make-up that melted off. Sukuna also wore liner, not all the time but often enough to know that some things didn't come off with soap and water. He takes care of himself, his skin, his hair, his nails, everything. He knows a bit more than he's willing to share. Next he followed the same steps with her cleaner, y/n was enjoying herself, half asleep under his touch. He finished everything by applying a serum and a moisturizer on her face. "You've got the cheap stuff." He joked. "Hey it works" y/n defended as he picked her up once more.

This time he layed her under the covers, he pulled them up over her body, looking at her with plain adoration, he leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep tight, I'll text you." He whispered in her ear, turning around to leave. A hand tugged oh his wrist, the same way he had done to her a couple days ago. Y/n was looking at him with pleading eyes "please stay" she almost begged, "are you sure? Its really late" he said, y/n nodded patting the spot beside her, he couldn't say no to those eyes. He quickly got rid of his shoes and dress shirt, he disappeared to the bathroom to take off his eyeliner and got under the covers with her.

Y/n curled up next to him, laying her head on his chest, taking in all his warmth and scent while listening to his heartbeat, his arm was wrapped securely around her.

" Can I ask you something?" Y/n's voice broke the silence. "Didn't you want to sleep?" Sukuna teased, and y/n took the opportunity to ask anyway. "Why do you like me?" What kind of question is this? Sukuna blamed the fact that she was a bit out it. She had no reason to be insecure, she was stunning and she also had a personality to back up her looks. "Let's see... you're kind of a badass, no one really talks back to me like you do, you're quite easy on the eyes too" what he said was very true, but he was falling for the little details too. The way she picked mindlessly at her food as she talked when he took her out, or the way her eyes sparkled when something peaked her interest. Even her drunken self had him feeling things he never did.

"How come you were single? Judging by your friends it's been a while" The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, but y/n didn't give any signs of being bothered by his assumption. "Honestly, I don't want someone to fall out of love and leave me behind" Drunken words are sober thoughts. Sukuna didn't want to ask if that had happened to her before, he didn't care, he would do better than whoever hurt her.

More moments passed with him rubbing comforting circles on her back, he was sure she was asleep, her breath was slow and steady against his chest. "I wonder, what would you say if I asked you to be mine?" Sukuna whispered, staring up at her ceiling. "I'd say yes, airhead" y/n mumbled. Sukuna's eyes widened, she wasn't supposed to hear that. "I'll make sure to ask you soon then" he said, y/n looked up at him, this time he couldn't help himself and captured her lips in his, in a very slow passionate kiss. It didn't last long but it was enough to keep y/n's head spinning around with him running through it. "Sleep already, brat"

"okay 'kuna".

The light coming in, beaming through her curtains, woke y/n from a very peaceful sleep, now all she felt was the vodka she consumed the night before. Her head was pounding hard, she reached for her phone on her nightstand. Instead of her phone, her hand made contact with a piece of paper.

Good morning doll.

You're most definitely feeling like shit, but don't worry you didn't do anything too embarrassing. Unfortunately I had to go to work early and you looked cute sleeping, I didn't want to wake you. There are pain killers next to you, you must have a hell of a headache. Don't forget to eat, I made breakfast for you in the kitchen (with all I could manage to find, you should go grocery shopping more often). Text me or I might think you died in your sleep. Have a wonderful day y/n.

- Sukuna

PS I took a peek in one of your notebooks. I was right, your handwriting is really fucking bad.

Of course he had to be his usual smug self, y/n found herself laughing at the words scribbled on the paper that was obviously ripped out of one of her notebooks. His handwriting was as pretty as his drawings, so aesthetically pleasing. He had even taken time to doodle coffee cups, and some trees at the bottom of the page.

The events from the previous night were starting to flood back to her head head. She took the pain killers Sukuna left out for her, he was kind enough to place a glass of water on her nightstand too. Y/n couldn't believe Sukuna not only stayed over, but he also put in so much effort for her, he certainly didn't look like the type to do so.

Walking in her kitchen, what she witnessed, exceeded all her expectations. When she read breakfast she thought he made her a sandwich, which she would've been extremely grateful for. Sukuna had gone all out, from pancakes, to French toast, an omelet and even her coffee served. She just stood there looking at her table, mouth almost hanging.

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her sweat pants.

You should've told me you were going out with Yuuji's hot brother. I would've never guessed that's your type.

Mai seemed to be in a mood to tease her.

You're right I should've told you, your turn, where did you and Yuuji run off to last night?

Y/n laughed knowing it was going to take a while to get a response. She sat down looking at all the choices she had, wondering what to pick. It's safe to say everything was as delicious as Sukuna.

I'm impressed. You draw, you cook AND you didn't burn down my house, I'm very thankful for that (breakfast was delicious too).

Sukuna, stared down at his phone, all the stress he had two nights ago long forgotten. Only thing that remained was to get y/n right back in his chair.

Happy to hear you're alive and kicking and you enjoy my cooking. I've got to go through, some dickbag wants me to do a cover-up. I'll talk to you later.

He dealt with this client in an unusually polite manner. Y/n had brighten his morning from the moment he woke up next to her.

Bonus Domain shenanigans: "Yuuji was right, I had to push him" Geto said to an agitated Gojo, who wanted to get under Sukuna's skin for a little longer. "Then hopefully he will bring her over, that would for sure be fun, he's going to get so worked up if we give her any attention." Gojo was rubbing his hands together at the thought. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not that worried about what Sukuna will do to you, we've both seen y/n, she doesn't even take his shit, I think she'd hit you." Nanami pointed out ."Well I haven't yet seen her, Yuuji said she was nice to him." Megumi joined the conversation remembering his friend talking about the girl, he had zoned out for half of it though. "I haven't seen her either, I did hear her though, she doesn't sound like she would let you pull something like that to him" Geto spoke again. "Nah she looked friendly, we can for sure make him foam at the mouth" Gojo plotted. "I can guarantee, she will rip of your head of if you try your shit." Sukuna was sure of it too.

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[dirt-cup-draco]

Cedric Diggory x Reader- Due Time

 Hello! Is it okay if I request something with Cedric with a Hufflepuff!Reader (or any house of your choice ) where cedric really likes the reader and leaves notes/love letters for her anonymously and reader is just really skeptical about it and weeks after that he wants to meet up and just fluff? Idk work your magic, do what's more necessary, I love you!

“That’s the third one in two weeks, isn’t it?” Hannah giggled, leaning over your shoulder as Susan peaked at the letter for just a moment before returning to her laid-back position in the arm chair she had claimed was hers on this rainy Sunday afternoon. 

“Mhmm,” You confirmed, eyebrows drawn to the center of your forehead as you wondered who could possibly be sending these over-the-top declarations of adoration. It wasn’t so much the contents that were over-the-top, but the fact that the letters hadn’t stopped coming since October and you were edging your way into April. The writing was unfamiliar to you even though you’d been sneaking glances at as many people’s essays and notes- anything that would give you a hint, really- as you could. 

The first letter had come to you on one of the worst days of your life. You felt at the time that it had been a friend anonymously sending you something just to cheer you up. The contents had been kind, generous even, but friendly and you hadn’t seen it is a love letter. 

Y/N, it had read, the sun has gone missing with the summer months but I don’t miss it much when I see you smile. Take care. 

It had been more of a note than a letter but it had still been folded neatly and left in an envelope. Somehow it had found it’s way into your bag and it was part of the reason you had assumed that either Hannah or Susan had left it. Even Hermione had been a thought. You were older than the Gryffindor but you two often studied together and she always seemed to know how to cheer you up when you entered the library looking more like a dark cloud than a person. 

However, you had inquired with every friend, hoping you could find them and thank them somehow, but everyone had denied it- even going as far as to show you their handwriting when you felt at a loss for finding your anonymous bit of belief. After that, the note had morphed into letters and the words read more like a love-sick poet than a friend offering support on your hardest days. 

“Why’ve you always got to frown Y/N?” Hannah pouted, bottom lip wobbling. “It’s just so lovely and you look like someone has sent you a ransom letter instead. They haven’t got anyone hostage, they just think you’re cute,” 

“No, they think she’s ‘brighter than a summer sun and more beautiful than spring’s first bloomed rose’” Susan giggled from her seat, shooting you a wink as the apple of your cheeks grew warm. 

“I’m not frowning,” You scowled at Hannah, disproving your point immediately, “I would just like to meet them. Their letters are very kind but it’s been months now and I’ve begun to wonder if they will actually ever speak to me,” 

Hannah couldn’t seem to argue with this so you folded up the most current letter and shoved it into your bag as the bell tolled and reminded you that you needed to run halfway across the castle to make it to your next class. With a goodbye thrown over your shoulder, you vanished out of the room. 

--

Cedric hadn’t been eavesdropping, he’d just been conveniently in the common room with you as you opened the letter that he had enchanted to float into your bag as you focused on McGonagall in transfiguration. He made the letter float laps around the classroom, out of the professors sharp and watchful eye, to make sure that no one could say where the letter originated from if Y/N inquired about it. 

He couldn’t help but smile as he watched your cheeks go rosy with Susan’s painfully accurate quote from his letter and he felt a bit embarrassed himself but he couldn’t regret it. He meant every word and you ought to be told as often as possible how truly radiant and wonderful you were. 

What made him pause, as you left the common room, was that you wanted to meet the author of these letters. You were right of course, he knew he could only send so many letters until you began to grow bored or even annoyed with the lengthy display of literary affection. Words of affirmation was how Cedric Diggory showed love and nothing could stop him from showing he cared for you. 

You knew each other, quite well actually, and so he wasn’t a complete coward he told himself. You two had conversations when the fancy struck and when he could get his tongue untied. Sometimes you’d find him half asleep in the common room and you’d shake him awake requesting he go to his bedroom for the night out of care but he would linger and ask about your day and the two of you would chat until far later than either of you had intended. 

Other times he would find you, head bent over a textbook as you sat beneath your favorite tree near the edge of the black lake. He teased one of these days the squid would come and grab your textbook from you but you’d just roll your eyes at him and pat the grass beside you, knowing he had a free period when you did. 

It was in the interactions he had grown to love every bit of you and he only wanted to learn more every time he got to be in your presence. 

Cedric swallowed the lump in his throat as he heard Hannah and Susan giggle, wondering who this mystery admirer could be. “He ought to hurry up and speak to her already, Y/N seems half ready to strangle whoever has been sending her those letters,” 

He knew that wasn’t true, Y/N wouldn’t hurt a fly. Yet, they were correct in that he needed to borrow a bit of gryffindor courage and come clean. A sudden thought struck fear deep into his stomach. What if someone else saw Y/N in the same golden light? Would they tell her that they had been the ones to write the words that came from his heart and his heart alone? That had decided it for him. He would tell Y/N that night. 

--

“Y/N?” you heard from your left, head buried in your arms as you rested on top of one of the tables in your common room. You hadn’t been asleep or studying, just thinking. Thinking of papers due, love letters, and the weather. Thinking of the rotation of the earth and how you weren’t really sure what made an animagus and what made a werewolf even though you were certain it was simple and you should have learned it long ago. Thinking of everything and nothing.

“Oh, yes, sorry Ced,” You mumbled, bleary eyes focusing on the boy who had taken a seat beside you. You let yourself take a moment to fall into the depth of his eyes. He had such caring eyes. Yes, the popular hufflepuff was quite the looker but he was far more than that and you had had the pleasure of speaking with him some during the school year. You considered him a friend and you hoped he did too, seeing as he had been the one to approach you. 

“Everything okay?” You asked, stifling a yawn and looking around you to see that your fellow housemates had left the common room while you had been lost in all of your thoughts and non-thoughts. 

“Yeah!” He replied a bit too cheery, voice pitching towards the end. Cedric winced and your eyebrows crinkled in that familiar way that made him want to smooth the lines away and ask what was worrying you. His stomach flipped comfortably and he let out an easier breath. 

“Yeah,” He tried again, more relaxed. “Just wanted to talk to you ‘bout something, actually,” 

“Oh?” You perked up, sleep falling from your eyes as you became more alert. Worry settled in your gut. Was Cedric certain everything was okay? You couldn’t bear thinking anything was wrong but you were honored that if something was wrong he wanted to come speak with you. 

“Yes, I have something for you,” The boy tried to keep his tone even but he couldn’t but feel some excitement swirl in his gut. He knew it was the right thing to tell you now and this seemed a good way to do it. Tugging a crisp envelope from his pocket he handed it to you and watched confusion paint over your worried expression. 

“Open it,” He encouraged. 

“But it looks like-” You caught yourself, staring down at the familiar envelope. Surely Cedric couldn’t be the one sending you such attentive letters? You didn’t interact as often as once a day even if you would like to. You told yourself you were being silly and hopeful, your friend just had something to show you and you were letting the letters get in the way of that. 

To cover up your hesitation you opened the envelope eagerly, unfolding the paper to find a familiar scrawl. Your heart flipped and your stomach flew. 

Hogsmeade this weekend? 

The option to check a box labelled yes sat beside another identical box labelled no and you stared with wide and startled eyes at Cedric. 

“You mean you were the one?” You croaked, eyes growing glossy. Putting a face to the letters made them mean exponentially more. Such kind eyes, such a kind heart. 

“Y-yeah,” Cedric breathed out, hand skating nervously against the back of his neck. “Just wanted to cheer you up one day when you looked down but then we started talking more and I just needed you to know how brilliant you are otherwise I’d explode but I was too nervous to tell you and well... I just kept writing and didn’t stop.” 

“Oh Ced,” You gasped, realization dawning on you. “You heard me in the common room earlier? I never meant to pressure you-” 

“No, no, Y/N,” He chuckled, his hand reaching for your arm before bashfulness overtook him and he pulled away. “It was time I said something, but....” 

He trailed off meaningfully, eyes downcast and you followed his gaze to the unchecked boxes. 

“Oh!” you giggled, that familiar red crawling up your neck to the tips of your ears. Grabbing your quill you checked a box, drying the ink with a spell before folding the parchment and putting it back inside the envelope. Standing, you handed Cedric the letter and brushed a daring kiss to his cheek before you ran upstairs leaving him absolutely giddy and more than confused. 

After shaking himself from his reverie, he tore at the envelope and noticed a neat X trapped within the confines of the box titled Yes. 

Cedric couldn’t fight the grin that spread from ear to ear and you were upstairs battling the same problem of a too-wide smile. It was long overdue he said something and you were more than happy he had. 

You both fell asleep as the sun started to lighten the world outside your drawn curtains. It would come back to bite the both of you once classes started but neither of you could get your upcoming Hogsmeade date out of mind. When you caught his eye during breakfast you knew that your sleepless night had been well worth it. 

[lady-literature]

no point wishing on stars

aka the jasonette aladdin au literally no one asked for

This is a great big amalgamation of semi-canon miraculous, batman and a heavy dose of bastardized Aladdin but here we go-

The story goes like this:

Jason is our beloved street rat turned prince Boy Wonder and billionaire’s son (not that he’s gotten that far yet).

Marinette is Ladybug, is the Guardian, is our modern-day Jasmine. She’s next in line after Fu to lead the Order, which, I suppose, is like High Royalty for superheroes/magic users.

But before she can take her rightful place, she needs a partner by her side. It’s so stupid rule that says she, as a Ladybug, needs a Black Cat by her side in order to be properly balanced.

The only problem is, she doesn’t want one. Or, well. More accurately, it’s that she doesn’t like the ones offered to her, and she doesn’t quite like the idea of being tied to someone she barely knows, especially not at fourteen.

There have been many Black Cat candidates to cross her path but there has been only one she did not immediately veto. Adrien Agreste may be a Black Cat, but he cannot be hers. He will never be anything more than her dearest brother, and that is not what Creation needs.

Creation and Destruction—life and death—have a certain type of relationship. They are lovers, mated and married in every meaning of the word.

And, for as much as she loves and adores Adrien as her brother in her soul, they will never be like that. She will never want him the way she must should he take up Destruction.

So yeah. Marinette has a problem. And yeah, she has some time to figure it out, but the Order is looking to have her figure it out sooner rather than later. Adrien is a good place holder for now, but if Marinette doesn’t choose a Black Cat by the time she’s twenty-one, Adrien will either have to do, or she forfeits her crown and the Ladybug miraculous (which she would never do, she loves her people and Tikki too much to ever do that).

(wait? Does this mean I made Adrien the human equivalent of Raja?… yes. Yes it does.)

And, to spice this up just a bit more, let’s say Hawkmoth is Jafar, yeah? This little shit is really trying to push his son to be the next Black Cat because he wants power what’s best for his son. So he be out here sabotaging potential Black Cats because he’s an asshole his son is the best candidate at the moment. He could give less than two shits about if Mari and Adrien actually like each other that way, he will shove his son at her until she has no choice but to choose him.

Anyway, so Mari leaves the temple one day. Which is fine, she’s not trapped there or anything, she can come and go as she pleases! (she may have to normally take someone with her and is currently ignoring that rule perhaps, but that’s besides the point!)

So she’s at a market in Gotham, strolling down the street, having a good time enjoying being around normal people, when she notices a boy getting into some trouble.

(I’ll give you three guesses as to who it is and the first two don’t count.)

Jason was stealing from market vendors because the hubbub of the street is distracting and nicking a few scraps here and there is practically child’s play. Only, he miscalculates.

One vendor was paying more attention than he thought.

Mari’s across the street and sees the whole thing. Sees the vendor grab Jason’s hand in a bruising grip and snarl in his face.

She’s in between the pair before she even realizes it, mouth already opening around some made-up story about ill-advised dares and how ‘it won’t happen again, sir’ and ‘here, I’ll pay for that right now, no harm done!’

Jason stares at her utterly baffled and, thankfully, silent until after she’d already grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

Only, she pulls him away down the wrong alley. (Look. Mari’s a real sweet-talker and knows how to smooth ruffled feathers, but she is hardly street smart.)

Jason swears, and it’s the first words she’s heard him speak, and then it’s him tugging her along. Up a fire escape and over the rooftops because Jason likes to think he’s tough, but there’s no way he’s picking a fight with five guys bigger than him and wearing masks.

He likes to keep his heart beating more than he wants to keep his pride unharmed thank you very much.

They end up on a rooftop, panting and like, seven blocks away. Marinette is now very lost and with a strange boy who she doesn’t know. He seems… nice, and she’s a good judge of character, but that doesn’t mean much when they’re still very much strangers.

But then the two just look at each other and suddenly they’re both laughing.

And that, my friends, is the start of a beautiful friendship.

***

During those first few months, she and Jason just seem to click.

Mari starts leaving the temple more and more to meet up with Jason, and on more than one occasion dragging behind her a picnic basket bigger than her. (it’s stupid to let one of her friends starve just because he’s too prideful to take her food. So she plans lots of picnics for them both, and pointedly ignores the way he eats and hoards most of the food she brings.)

He is her friend—though she would be lying if she said she didn’t like him a bit more than what one would consider friendly.

And Jason, who is funny and kind and made sharp by the life he’s been forced into, likes her right back. She is one of the few great parts of his life, a bright spot in the darkness he has called his world for so long, and there are few things he wouldn’t do for her.

It’s… scary—just a bit—how important she is to him.

He tries not to think about it too much.

And it doesn't really matter anyway, because she is good and bright and amazing and he is… there’s nothing he can give her in return. Nothing good, anyway.

She deserves someone better. Someone who could buy her things as pretty as her and take her nice places.

Someone who isn’t a street rat.

And then he learns she’s Ladybug, right up there with Wonder Woman and Robin and all the other amazing people set on saving the world, and he feels he got that much farther from her. How can he ever compare?

Jason doesn’t wish, because wishing is childish and he learned too young that shooting stars don’t exist and he’s come to terms with the fact that this is his life years ago, all right? He doesn't need the burden of hope to weigh him down now.

(but perhaps, deep down, tucked away in the corner of his heart, there might be a thought. Small and scared and aching, he might think, ‘if only I could be there with her, if only i could fly with her, maybe then I’d be enough’)

Six months after he meets Marinette, Jason comes across the Batmobile.

His first thought is, this can’t be real.

His second is, I could buy Mari a real birthday gift with this.

His third thought is less of a thought because he’s already got two tires off by that point and then suddenly Batman is there and Jason is swinging his tire iron.

This then leads—somehow—to him winding up at Wayne Manor with Bruce Wayne and then he learns about Batman and Robin and he gets to be Robin and-

(and what else is a Robin meant to do but fly?)

It’s too good to be true. Wishes don’t come true and good things don’t happen to him unless their name be Marinette but… but Jason’s here and it’s not a dream. He’s no prince but, well… he thinks this might just be as close as you can get.

And, okay. He really does try with the whole secrecy thing, because he can understand why that’s important but, I mean… it’s Marinette, who is Ladybug. There really was never any chance of Jason keeping that particular secret, Batman or no Batman.

And about,,, two years pass like this ig. Mari is almost seventeen now, and Jason turned seventeen recently and the pair are getting closer and closer every day. They’re toeing the line of ‘more than friends’ but neither have really taken that next step. 

The pressure is on Mari from the Order because she’s getting older and as much as she likes Jason, knows him but he isn’t a good candidate for Destruction and Mari must think of her people first.

Jason doesn’t get to be hers to keep and that aches but what else is she meant to do? She cannot—does not—want to change him in any way. So they stay, in their strange little limbo, with neither making a move.

And then, the unthinkable happens.

Hawkmoth hears of the boy finally, and is, obviously, furious.

He doesn't care if this boy can be a Cat or not, he’s going to ruin all his plans. So, there’s only one solution. He needs to get rid of him.

(i’ll give you three guesses as to how and the first two don’t count!)

Robin—Jason—dies, and Marinette feels when he does. She doesn’t know why or what happened, but the moment he leaves the world her blood turns cold and she feels sick.

Jason hasn’t even looked at the ring and already Marinette could feel the thread that had begun to tie them together. When she hears of his death—when she learns that he’s gone—Marinette shatters.

She shatters and cries and the world tips just a little, with the force of her sorrow, with the agony of her screams.

(justice is blind, yes, but is she deaf? Can she deny the sobbing of such a being as Creation herself? Can she stand, unfeeling, before the agony she has wrought?)

Marinette does not bring Jason back to life… but she has done something close. Has opened the possibility. Is, perhaps, the reason that six months later he screams and claws and drags himself from his own grave.

He is wrong wrong wrong, but he is also alive.

The league finds him, as they must. And Talia throws him into the pits, as she must. And Jason is reborn, screaming and angry and violent, as he must.

Marinette had known, Before, that Jason would not be a good match for the ring. He was tough and wild and willing to get his hands dirty if that’s what it took, but that was not what his core was. He was familiar with the rust and decay of back alley streets, but that wasn’t where he belonged. He would throw a punch but he didn’t relish the blood on his knuckles after a fight.

Jason was surrounded by destruction, but that’s not what he was.

Now… now the destruction he spent so long dancing with has slipped through the cracks in his mind left behind by the explosion. It ripped through his skin and slithered through into his veins until it settled in his heart like an overly smug cat.

Death and Destruction are inside him, woven in his ribcage and fusing with his blood, pumping pumping pumping its deadly rhythm and Jason is helpless to deny it’s tune.

Jason is a being of Destruction through circumstance rather than design, but make no mistake, that does not make him less.

(in fact, it may even make him more. To be remade from one’s own destruction is a powerful thing, and to be remade into Destruction? Well. There are few things more… miraculous.)

And we all know the next part of the story right?

Marinette mourns and grows and lives.

Jason rages and learns and plans. He’s come far from that street rat of a boy, and farther still from Marinette's petite oiseau.

But, two years after he comes back, when he ventures back to Gotham for revenge, Marinette takes one look at this angry, violent man calling himself Red Hood and she knows. He’s too familiar, even as he stands before her, more changed than she ever thought possible.

She meets the Red Hood when he comes for the new Robin, sweet little Tim who Marinette had grown to like despite herself. (He is not Jason, and never will be, but the boy was too shy and clever and earnest for her to have remained cold to him just because he wore the same colors once worn by the man she loved.)

She loves Tim in the same way she loves Adrien, simply and wholly and uncomplicated.

And then she is there when Jason comes for him.

Their reunion is not the stuff of fairy tales. It is not the beginning of happily ever after or true love.

Their reunion is a punch in the gut because it doesn't matter that he’s alive—except it does, because Mari has never known she could be so happy and so shattered at the same time—she is farther from him than she’d ever imagined she could be.

She reaches out for him, voice cracking around his name—because who else could this familiar stranger be?—and something in her shatters all over again when he flinches back from her touch.

“No,” he says, and it is a million things at once. He sends one last glare to Tim, who is still behind her, and then he’s gone.

***

Jason tries to avoid her.

Marinette allows this for a whole month before the whispers in the streets and the stories Tim comes back to her with, become too much.

She knows he is angry and out for revenge and building an empire out of the criminals that infest their city, but she doesn’t care. He was gone for two whole years and Marinette is tired of not seeing him-hearing him-touching him.

She has missed him like an ache in her chest and she doesn't care if he hates her or is furious with her, she just wants to see him. She needs to reassure herself that he’s alive, that he’s real.

And, it seems, the universe is on her side in this. In her chest, nestled there in the space next to her heart, there is what she can only describe as a compass, pointing to wherever Jason is like he’s her own personal north star.

The first few times, she’s yelled at or ran off. Or he runs off. Either way, for a while, the only moments she’s close to him are short and aching.

But she doesn’t let him run for long, and she doesn’t let him scare her off as she knows he’s trying to do.

Marinette had always been the more stubborn of the two.

Eventually, like a feral cat learning safety (like a hurt, scared animal relearning love), Jason lets her get close. He lets her in, lets her get close again.

The first time she sees him, without helmet or mask, she flings herself at him. Arms around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clutching him like her life depends on it. He takes her weight automatically, hand beneath her thighs while the other wraps around her back just as tightly. (he longs for touch, she has relearned, but he is also so frightened of it. She will have to be brave for them both)

The second time she sees his face bare once more, he is still thrumming with energy from a fight, is still high on the feeling of broken bones and blood on his knuckles. The force in his chest, the clawing and raging thing settled just off-center of the very core of him, pulls him toward her and Marinette meets him halfway, her own bright, ruthless force like a magnet in her chest.

They meet in a clash of hands on skin and lips anywhere they’ll land.

It is the first time they fall into bed together.

It will not be the last.

Now, you may be thinking, ‘Lady! This isn’t very Aladdin at all!’ and to that I tell you: I fucking warned you. What part of bastardized-Aladdin didn’t you get?

Also, shh. This is my favorite part!

So Mari is in her own personal little honeymoon stage, right? She practically could not be happier because Jason is alive and he’s hers and, even if he’s more violent and a crime boss, he’s stopped attacking his family at least. Which is good, because Mari really didn’t like the sad look Tim wore every time he brought up Jason.

And, oh yeah. Through a combination of her own detective work and Tikki, little Mari realizes that Jason is her Black Cat. Is the only person her Black Cat could be, not because of destiny—though that had helped—but because of coincidence and the bond the pair forged themselves.  

So Mari is, obviously, on cloud nine at the moment and she tells Adrien and Fu who are ecstatic for her, and announcements are going to be made the second Mari tells Jason and what could possibly go wrong?

Well, a lot of things really but the first thing is that, basically, Mari is asking Jason to marry her. Just a bit. And while they both know, in that nebulous way they always have, that they love each other, neither of them have ever actually said it.

And also, they aren’t really dating right now either. Mari’s been too busy trying to just get near Jason again that she hasn’t much been paying attention to normal relationship things like dates or labels.

So when she brings it up Jason is… well, caught off guard is likely an understatement. Which then makes Mari realize what exactly she’s just done and- shit. She’s ruined everything and Jason is going to run away again and the compass in her chest is just going to be a reminder of what she can’t have and-

Jason, who only moments before was terrified and in danger of bolting—because this is a lot and magic-marrying Mari comes with responsibilities and rules and a thousand strings he doesn't know what to do with—now stops and stares at her, babbling and so obviously panicked and something in him abruptly settles.

She starts pacing and he grabs her hand when she passes by close enough, reeling her into his body. She comes easily even in her frazzled state and the vicious clawing thing in his chest sighs contentedly.

“Why?” he asks, and it is a million things at once. Why him, why now, why, why, why?

There are a million ways she could answer, but the easiest? The most important answer is simply this: “Because I love you.”

His breath shudders in his chest at her words and her hands raise to settle on his cheek and the back of his neck, a protection of one of the most vulnerable parts of him, and he leans into her touch like a man starved.

Gods, Jason has loved her for years.

He loved her Before and he loved her in the pits, when all he had was the hate they kept stuffing in his chest, and he loves her now. She is his sun and he will spin around her for the rest of his life. But when it all comes down to it, one simple fact doesn’t change:

“I don’t deserve your love.”

Her hands press harder into his skin, like she can force him to understand through touch alone. “If everyone only got the love they deserved no one would be truly loved,” she counters.

“You would,” he says, quick and quiet and honest. Her breath hitches and he watches her eyes go wide. The hands he has on her hips tighten at the emotions he finds there.

“Oh,” she whispers, already pulling him down to meet her. “Oh you stupid, beautiful man.”

And then they’re kissing and- and it is not the first time they’ve done this, but there is something very different about this one.

They’re kissing, and this time, it feels very much like coming home.

***

And, perhaps, that is not the end.

Because there is still one wish left. 

Because Jafar-Hawkmoth is still there, and he’s still murderous, and there a very real chance he’s going to ruin the wedding somehow.

Because there is never truly an end to a story, it just simply stops being told.

But none of that really matters. Our princess and her dearest street rat are together at last, and together they’ll get through whatever happens after the story stops being told.

They’ve always had a thing for impossible odds after all.

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary: Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears echoes of the birdsong in her laugher, the songs of the gods in the wind. 

(Loosely inspired by ‘Your Name’, aka Kimi No Nawa, featuring Haikyuu’s own pretty Tokyo boy)

Wordcount: 3.5k

Masterlist here

AO3 Link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

‘It’s rare to see young men like you buying flowers for their mother’, the florist comments offhand as she wraps his order of yellow chrysanthemums in paper. 

Akaashi smiles, accustomed to the friendly florist by now. ‘I guess I’ve always had a partiality for flowers’, waving to the florist as he leaves to head to Shibuya to meet Bokuto for Izakaya. He’s running late, but Bokuto doesn't mind, hooting good naturedly at the comedy show playing on the television in the rundown bar. 

‘Agaaaashi, you made it!’ Bokuto rises from his seat to give him a jovial fist bump. 

‘Of course I did’, he responds dryly. ‘Wild horses wouldn’t keep me from my appointment with you’. He spends most of dinner listening to Bokuto’s recent exploits both with the national team and MSBY. Excitement still sparkles in the older man’s eyes as he recounts each and every match he’s played in, and Akaashi idly wonders how it is that Bokuto seems to have managed to pack on even more muscle in the short span of a month, the last time they met up was to see Bokuto off at the airport for the World Cup. 

‘You should have continued playing volleyball in university’, Bokuto crows in between mouthfuls of yakiniku and beer and Akaashi shakes his head at the refrain he’s so used to hearing from his senpai.

‘I wouldn’t be able to maintain my grades if I wanted to take volleyball seriously in university, plus there’s no guarantee I’d even get off the bench’, he answers self-effacingly. 

‘But you have the best tosses, Akaaaaaashi!!’ Bokuto declares, his words slightly slurred, and Akaashi wonders if he should start to inch Bokuto’s beer away from him. After consuming far too much barbecued meat (Bokuto took the liberty of ordering twice of what Akaashi would normally order, waving his protests off by stating grandly that he’ll take care of the bill, he’s the one working after all!), Bokuto slips into a food-drunk stupor, happy to listen to his anecdotes of university life, and he takes the chance to ramble on about his advanced Japanese classical literature course that he finds far more fascinating than his class on modern literature to his best friend. 

They stumble out of the izakaya when the line outside grows far too long to be ignored, Bokuto draping a heavy arm over Akaashi’s shoulder, the red tint on the tips of his ears betraying his slightly tipsy state. As they stand at the traffic light patiently waiting for the light to change from red to green, Bokuto turns to him and grasps his shoulders in his large, warm hands. 

‘I’m really proud to have you as a friend, Akaashi’, Bokuto tells him seriously. ‘And I’m going to prove to you that I can be the best ace so you can be proud of me too’. The molten gold glimmering in Bokuto’s gaze fills him with far more warmth than any alcohol could possibly achieve. 

‘I’m already proud of you, Bokuto-san’, he answers, his earnestness resounding in every word of his short declaration. Bokuto beams at him in response and bounds across the pedestrian walkway in approximately three strides, ignoring Akaashi’s chiding to ‘look before you cross the road, even if you have the right of way!’

Many things may have changed since high school, but some things still stay the same.  

His dreams take a strange turn that night.

He’s back in the Fukurodani gym with his teammates, but it’s not accurate to say he’s with them - rather, he’s watching his past self from afar, seated on the bench, a wrist guard on his right arm. He doesn’t remember ever injuring himself enough to warrant a wrist guard at any point during his high school volleyball career, but it’s probably just another oddity of being in a dream.  

‘I wish your wrist was feeling better, Akaashi. I miss your tosses already’, the pout in Bokuto’s voice pronounced.

‘It’s just for a while - I’ll be right as rain tomorrow!’ he hears himself say cheerfully - but that doesn’t make sense either. No one in their right mind has ever described the way he speaks as cheerful, and the rest of his teammates glance over at him curiously. Then his past self awkwardly tucks his legs under the bench, ankles crossed almost as if he’d like nothing better than to fold himself away with all the cloth vests they use for practice – but that doesn’t make sense either, he doesn’t even know why he’s behaving like some fish out of water. While volleyball doesn’t come naturally to him as it does to someone like Bokuto-san, and there are times he feels like he’s struggling to swim upstream, his fingers still itch to toss a ball up into the sky in a perfect arc even now. 

‘I told you, I don’t get what you insist on waxing lyrical on him being a star you can’t help but follow,’ he hears her voice chime in his consciousness, inexplicable though her presence in this scene may be, he hears himself answer - ‘just be patient and watch’. 

Anahori, their substitute setter tosses the ball up in the air and it’s a good toss, he will give him that, but it’s still not quite as high a toss that Bokuto likes. Bokuto runs right up to the net to leap into the air, back arching to slam the ball to the ground with such force that it’s a commanding full stop punctuating any doubts about his place on the team as its captain and ace. 

‘You see! When he plays well, he's like a supernova, shining with a light so bright it almost blinds my eyes.’

‘Waxing lyrical again, Keiji-kun?’ He can hear her tease him gently. ‘Go on, carry on with your celestial metaphors’.

‘How about a shooting star then’, he replies, amused. ‘If a shooting star shot up from the earth instead of falling from the sky.’ 

‘You sound like you like the guy. Are you sure you don’t?’ She asks. ‘You sure sound like you do.’

What?!

His legs are tangled in his sheets when he thrashes awake, mouth open in a gasp for air. That was a new twist in his collection of dreams, the first time he’s dreamt of something other than that phantom girl’s life in months, but even when the dreamscape doesn’t even feature her, she still manages to invade his dream. 

Worse - his dreams are now edging into territory he hasn’t mapped out in years. His teenage infatuation with Bokuto-san died a natural death after he realised that he’d mistaken his admiration for the ace for romantic feelings. Besides, there was no way Bokuto-san would ever be in love with him, not when he’d chosen to devote the next decade of his life to his sport. So why are his dreams dragging him deeper into a labyrinth of memories that aren’t even his own?

‘Why are you squandering my pocket money in a maid café of all things’ he says, sounding uncharacteristically put out. But then again he would be annoyed if anyone managed to drag him into the pink and white monstrosity his dream has deposited him into.

Bokuto’s happily seated across from him (or rather, his past self), exclaiming ‘ooh - isn’t the ketchup art on this omurice amazing, Akaashi? They managed to capture my hair so well!’, and to his horror his past self nods encouragingly and only laughs when Bokuto whines about not wanting to destroy this ‘piece of art the maids took so much time to create’ by eating the damn omurice. 

‘Don’t be such a killjoy, Keiji-kun’, she giggles. ‘Look at him, he’s having such fun, and besides, your day will reset so your money won’t be wasted anyway!’. 

Bokuto, distracted by the catchy beat of the J-pop song blasting over the speakers, is cajoled by a trio of pretty maids to join them on stage to dance along with them. He pops his hips to the beat of the music, throwing up cheesy hand signals with such gusto that it makes him (yes, present day Keiji) want to smile. 

But his past self evidently hasn’t lightened up yet, because he hears himself say crossly – ‘You do realise this is a waste of time when we could be doing something more useful like homework, especially since  Bokuto-san and I already spend most of our time training?’

‘Oh Keiji-kun, life is too short to be spent worrying like that. Because before you know it, you’ll grow into an old man who doesn’t know how to have any fun’.

‘I have fun’, he says petulantly, a faint sulk in his voice. 

‘Oh really? Then stop worrying and live a little. Maybe you should take a leaf out of your beloved Bokuto-san’s book – look how much fun he’s having!’

Bokuto clearly seems to be having the time of his life because now he’s prancing around the stage playing some silly game with the maids. 

‘I told you, I don’t think of him that way.’

‘And I’ve told you I’ve borrowed your skin for far too long to know when you’re not telling me the whole truth, Keiji-kun’, she sing-songs. ‘You wished for more time with him, didn’t you, so aren’t I doing a good deed by helping you figure out what Bokuto might like to do with you?’

‘Bokuto-san doesn’t have spare time on these things – and you’re just making an excuse to explore cafes in Tokyo at my expense!’ 

‘Two birds, one stone. Don’t be pedantic, Keiji-kun!’ 

The next time he’s back in one of those dreams, he finds his past self dressed in a blue yukata along the Sumida river, tugging Bokuto away from the takoyaki store. He remembers Bokuto dragging him away from the rest of the team on a quest to buy some snacks at the food stalls set up around the park, insisting that his stomach’s growling too loudly to wait until the fireworks display is over ‘come on, even you can hear my stomach at this rate, Akaaashi!!!’ – but that’s where the dream starts to diverge. 

‘If you queue for takoyaki, we’re going to miss the fireworks, and you don’t want to miss that, do you Bokuto-san?’ he says, hand firmly on Bokuto’s yukata sleeve. 

‘That’s right! But shouldn’t we join the rest of the team? They’ve got a spot by the river just over there!’ 

‘We won’t get there in time with this crowd – come on! If we hurry, I know the perfect spot to watch the display’, weaving his way through the crowd to shimmy up the trunk of a tree and settle himself comfortably against a large branch. 

‘Woah – Akaashi! I never knew you could climb trees!’ Bokuto calls, sounding impressed.

‘Well, don’t stand there, come join me!’ 

The tree creaks ominously as the larger boy scales its trunk, branches already heavy with red lanterns groaning in protest as he settles himself in the branch opposite Akaashi. And not a moment too soon, because a collective gasp ripples through the crowd along the river as the night sky explodes into rainbow hued fiery streaks.

‘It’s amazing, Akaashi!’ Bokuto hollers with his face tilted up to the sky. 

‘You’re amazing, Bokuto-san’, he says fondly, reaching over to bump Bokuto’s shoulder with his fist and the older boy beams at him, the sheer delight in his smile brighter than the fireworks in the sky. There is a sea of stars in his eyes, and Akaashi wants to shrivel in shame at the way his younger self looks like he’s mentally planning to pirate a boat to cross the straits to Bokuto’s heart. 

‘There is no way I’m going to do that’ he hears himself say, sounding mildly cross. 

‘Eh – it’s cute. ‘sides, doesn’t he look so happy’ he hears her say, sounding overly chipper. 

‘You could spend your time instead learning how to play so Bokuto-san won’t pout when you sit out of practice and you wouldn’t have to pretend you sprain your wrist every time we swap.’

‘Are you mad? Do you really think they won’t think something’s up when I can’t even do a simple serve?’ 

‘Fine. You have a point’, he answers begrudgingly. 

‘Of course I do. Come on Keiji, live a little. Enjoy your time with the lodestar of your life’.

‘Can you not say things like that?’ he says dryly. 

‘It’s your fault for reading so much Shakespeare to me!’ she replies with a grin in her voice.

He texts Bokuto the minute he wakes up. ‘Bokuto-san, apologies if this seems weird, but do you remember if we ever climbed a tree when we watched fireworks with our team?’ 

Bokuto takes a while to respond, but that’s to be expected, it’s his mornings are usually filled with practice and conditioning. But when he does respond, his text makes Akaashi’s brow curl. ‘Nope, but sounds fun! What’s up Akaashi!!’ 

Akaashi drops his head in his palms. Good to know he’s not losing his grip on reality at least. 

But his sleep for the following weeks continues to be filled with dreams in the same vein. 

He dreams of scenes that have never taken place in real life - him challenging Bokuto-san to ramen eating competition, the older boy winning handily of course, crowing like a child when he slurps the last mouthful of tonkatsu broth - ‘eh Akaashi, eat faster!’, him dragging Bokuto-san to the arcade near school, demolishing middle schoolers in endless games of dance dance revolution (there is no way he is actually able to move like that in real life) and losing far too much money in claw games - ‘Akaashi I really want that toy pleaseeee’ - and even he would admit it’s absolutely adorable if not for the fact that he can’t explain why these dreams keep invading his head like a wildfire that refuses to die. 

‘I honestly don’t understand you’, she says and again, why on earth is she in this set of dreams - she doesn’t belong in them -

‘What exactly do you not understand?’

‘If you like him that much, why aren’t you jumping at the chance to hang out with him? All you do is nag me about how I’m wasting his time, I’m wasting your time, but I don’t understand -  isn’t time meant to be spent on the people you love? Unless you’re confusing love with admiration, because yes, I get that you admire his talent, but you don’t seem to have all that much patience for spending time with him outside of school.’ 

‘I suppose I do like him, but…’

‘Finally you admit it, but I don’t like the sound of that word.’ 

‘It’s nothing’, he finally says, and she huffs in annoyance, clearly wanting him to explain but he stubbornly refuses to say another word. 

His past self is skidding down the hallway with Bokuto hot on his heels yelling ‘Akaaashiii you owe me a Yakisoba bunnnnn’ when he hears an almighty crash behind him. As he spins around, Bokuto’s sprawled on the floor, papers and books scattered around him. The older boy grimaces as he sits up, grabbing at his ankle in pain. 

‘Bokuto-san, are you ok?’ he cries, running back towards the older boy. 

‘I might have twisted my ankle. Argh this is bad - prelims are just next week!’ Bokuto groans, clutching at his ankle desperately. 

‘Don’t worry. You’ll be fine tomorrow, trust me’, his past self says with complete certainty, and flags down a passing student to call for a teacher. 

‘Look what you’ve done now. Are you happy with yourself?’ he hears himself say accusingly. ‘Everything might reset tomorrow, but look - he’s hurt himself today. Is this what you’ve been trying to prove to me?’ 

‘I’m sorry, Keiji’ he hears her say, her voice watery. ‘I didn’t think -’ 

‘Of course you didn’t, you never think about the consequences of your actions, do you?’ he says, glass shards in his words. 

His dream fades to black. He never hears her answer. 

His sleep remains relatively undisturbed for the next fortnight, just in time for his mid-term exams which he aces, even his course on classical Japanese literature. He’s relieved of course, because his final year grades matter most when it comes to recruitment, yet there’s a part of him that’s buried deep between ventricles and pumping flesh that childishly wonders what his dreams are going to show him next.

His wish is answered when he opens his eyes to an ocean of stars, white pinpricks of light against the vast tapestry of the purple night sky. His head is pillowed on tufts of grass and the wind whispers against his feet.

The sight takes his breath away. 

He’s a born and bred city boy, and he knows from experience it’s near impossible to see stars in the city sky amidst light pollution and masquerading satellites.  

‘Is this your way of apologising?’ he asks, his voice wry. 

‘Is it working yet?’ he hears her ask, an uncharacteristically timid note in her voice. He laughs, a fond sound, and he can hear her huff a breath through her mouth. ‘I am sorry though, Keiji. I never meant to hurt him’. 

‘It’s fine, no damage done. Besides, I was thinking about what you said.’

‘Me? About what? I know I’ve said plenty to you so far’, she says curiously. 

‘About Bokuto-san’, he supplies, and she stays silent, waiting for him to go on. The stars twinkle down at him, and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine the galaxy reaching down to lend him its infinite strength. ‘You were right about how…I felt about Bokuto-san. I thought what I felt for him was something more than it really was - now I’m starting to realise I just admire his strength, and I don’t see our paths ever converging, especially if he’s going to chase his dreams of going pro all the way’. 

‘You don’t have to chase someone else’s light when you’re brilliant in your own right’, she says gently. 

‘Thanks’, he answers thickly, as if the word feels a little awkward in his mouth. 

‘So -’ she pipes up, and he can tell she’s trying her best to paper over the sudden lapse of silence. ‘Will you tell me stories about the stars, Keiji?’

He laughs fondly, raising a hand to catch the stardust from the sparkling constellations overhead. ‘I could tell you the story of Andromeda, chained to rocks as a sacrifice to satisfy the cruel demands of the sea monster?’ 

‘Ugh no gory stories, I want a happy ending!’ 

‘It has a happy ending, I promise. Just be patient and listen, okay?’ 

Akaashi wakes up before his past self can finish telling the tale of Persues’ rescue of Andromeda from the jaws of defeat. It’s barely three in the morning, but he knows it’s futile to try to go back to sleep. He wanders to the window, and wonders whether the lone star hanging in the cloudy sky is merely a satellite in disguise. 

Against his better judgment, he dials Bokuto’s number. 

‘What’s up, Akaashi!’ he hears the older man mumble sleepily, sheets rustling. 

‘Was it obvious I had a crush on you in high school?’ he asks plainly. If seeking closure is what he needs to end this slew of dreams, then he’s going to do it, never mind the embarrassment thick in the blood in his veins.

‘Huh?’ 

Akaashi’s pretty sure he can hear Bokuto blink rapidly. ‘A crush on you’, he repeats, and for good measure he adds - ‘sometime in your third year of high school’. 

‘Ehhhh…’ Bokuto’s voice trails off over the phone. ‘You did?’ 

The sigh that trips out of Akaashi’s mouth is worn, weary. ‘I did’, he confirms, embarrassment writhing in his belly. 

‘But you stopped right? Just before I graduated? You started becoming distracted after Spring High and I thought you were just worrying about university entrance exams.’

‘I suppose.’ And Akaashi should really get a grip on himself but his dreams have been doing a number on him so to his horror, he starts to ramble. ’ It’s probably the lack of sleep, but look - this sounds really stupid but I was having a lot of really weird dreams and I don’t understand what’s happening but I’m hoping getting this off my chest helps me get some more sleep and I hope you don’t think I’m completely weird and don’t mind still being my friend -’

‘Woah, ‘kaashi, slow down! You’re overthinking again - what, you think I’m not going to be your friend anymore?’ Bokuto booms, laughing widely. 

‘Uh. I don’t know?’ 

‘Relax! I’m flattered, but I think it’s a good thing we never went out! You were already so stressed dealing with me in high school Washio used to joke about your hair falling out, but I’ve changed! Now I’m just an ordinary ace!’ 

‘Bokuto-san, I don’t think anyone would call you ordinary’, Akaashi interjects, rubbing circles against his temple. 

‘You know what I mean!’ Bokuto laughs, the sound so round and boisterous that it makes Akaashi quirk his lips up in affection. 

‘Yes, Bokuto-san. Anyway, sorry for disturbing your sleep.’ 

‘Anytime, Akaashi!’ They bid each other goodnight, and the relief he feels after the call settles on his chest like a blanket, and he falls back to sleep. 

Taglist: 

@1tooru @kageyamakock @animeflower26 @underrated-fruit-tarts-official

[fandom-space-princess]

Every Day's Most Quiet Need

midam week prompt 5: whisper - (v) speak very softly using one's breath without one's vocal cords, especially for the sake of privacy/(n) a soft or confidential tone of voice; a whispered word or phrase

Rating: Teen [2.5k words, a tiny bit h/c, mostly just sort of sweet]

Some things can't be spoken aloud. The only way to get them out is to say them as softly as you can.

read below the cut, or on AO3

When Adam thinks of whispers, he thinks of Michael's wings.

-----

"Michael? Why are you shivering?"

Maybe a silly question. The Cage is cold. An understatement, of course, but trying to hyperbolize about it has never taken the sting out. No matter how Adam tries to wrap it up in description, thinking of it as frozen as the Arctic tundra or the original ice cube or goddamn Minneapolis in February is never enough to distract from bitter reality.

So: the Cage is cold.

Shouldn't matter, though, and usually it doesn't. Michael is an inferno inside his chest, and he runs hot even by angelic standards (at least, according to him; not that Adam has any basis for comparison). Adam barely registers the frigidity of the place, and as far as he knows the cold bothers Michael not at all, either from his vantage in Adam's head or, as he's taken to doing more and more lately, manifesting as a separate presence.

Not that he's really asked. They've been down here for close to two hundred years, and it's only the last fifty or so that the rapport between them has been something resembling friendly.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Michael curls himself up smaller near the wall of the Cage, knees clasped to his chest, and slips into what Adam has privately begun to refer to as his Stoic Angel Face. The juxtaposition strikes him as odd: this intense, commanding creature, tucked into the corner like a human child, tight with tension, but wearing an expression that would seem more at home on a commander of armies, or carved into a mountainside.

Adam has been looking at Michael for two centuries, though. He's getting good at spotting the cracks in his masks.

He settles himself down next to Michael, a bare few inches separating them. "Ok. Say I believe you. You're still pretty clearly uncomfortable right now. Can I... is there anything I can do to help?" He rests a hand cautiously on Michael's arm, watching his face closely. Doesn't miss the flicker of Michael's eyes to where they touch, then away again, tight and guilty like he doesn't want Adam to see.

He leans into it, though, and Adam shifts to press into his side, shoulder to shoulder.

This close, he can feel the fine shivers still running through Michael's frame. Can make out the shallowness of his breathing.

"Michael. Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't usually hang around out here when you want to be left alone. So what's up?"

Michael sighs. "As you say, I am merely uncomfortable. I — the last time we fought —" He nods across the Cage, at the far shadowy corner where Lucifer broods in solitude, "— I sustained a few... minor injuries. Injuries I am incapable of healing except by waiting for my grace to recover. In much the same way as your body would heal naturally."

Adam blinks. He doesn't know what he'd expected, but that — that wasn't it. Lucifer and Michael often scrap with each other. When they first arrived, it had been out of genuine fury. But as they have settled into a more permanent resignation to life in this place, Adam has come to suspect that their ongoing fighting is mostly out of habit, and frustration.

At least now they do it in their own forms. Being conscripted into participation on a physical level, especially when Sam had still been present, had not been among Adam's favorite activities.

He casts his gaze over Michael, critically. "You don't look injured anywhere that I can see. Is it — it's an angel thing, isn't it."

"Yes." Michael fidgets against the wall. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Another bitter sigh. With a face like he regrets ever consenting to participate in this conversation at all, Michael mutters, "My wings hurt."

"Your... oh." He understands, suddenly, why Michael is reluctant to talk about this. While there is no longer any aspect of each other that either of them is uncomfortable with, at least on a physical level (Adam's body has been home to both archangelic grace and human soul for an order of magnitude longer than he had ever occupied it alone), Michael's wings aren't entirely physical, even by his particularly lax definition of the term. They're tied up too closely with his grace, with his power, with his place in Heaven and the burdens that come with it. Adam has seen them, time to time, out of the corner of his eye. Knows that Michael can and does manifest them when he's coping with some severe emotion.

Usually violence. Or fear.

He fidgets again, and shivers, and the emotionless mask he tries to keep in place is betrayed by the tightness around his eyes. Adam realizes that he's never seen Michael look quite so shaky, quite so miserable. How much pain does it take, he wonders, to make the Sword of Heaven look like he wants nothing more than to sink into merciful unconsciousness?

Which is a good point, actually.

"I know you've gotten in fights before, bad ones. I've never seen you like this." He nudges Michael gently with his shoulder. "What's so different now? Is it that we're stuck here, something about the Cage?"

"No, it's... well. To be blunt: I have never injured part of my noncorporeal form this badly while also possessing a corporeal one." His voice has dropped to a low murmur, and Adam tilts his head closer. He's curled in on himself, as though making himself as small as he can. "If I were to leave you, I could tend to the problem much more quickly. Given our circumstances, that would likely be unpleasant for me, and fatal for you." His eyes dart to Adam, then away again.

Oh.

"You'd rather be in pain then risk hurting me?" Adam asks softly.

A scowl is all the acknowledgement he gets for his trouble, before Michael returns to staring fixedly off into the middle distance.

"I care about you too, you know," he says. He rests a hand on the archangel's arm again, in reassurance. Once again, he leans into the contact, a response which seems almost involuntary.

Interesting.

Testing a theory, Adam leans back against the wall of the Cage. Slowly, allowing Michael time to object if desired, he stretches an arm out and settles it lightly over his shoulders. Michael goes utterly still, and Adam wonders if he's made a mistake. He's about to draw back, offer an apology, when some measure of the tension leaves Michael's frame and he relaxes fractionally against Adam.

"You'd tell me if there was anything I could do to help, right? I want to know, if there is."

"I don't want to presume upon you further than I already have. Given time, I'll be fine."

"So there is something. Come on, halo, out with it. Let me help."

Michael frowns, then shivers again, appears to reach a decision.

"Fine." He uncoils himself from Adam's embrace, and moves to kneel a few feet away. Pointedly meets Adam's gaze, and holds it, as if in challenge.

A crackle like embers from a fire along his skin, raising goosebumps over his arms, and a soft displacement of air. And then —

— he's seen them before, of course, but never dead on like this. Michael's wings are gigantic, and beautiful: the soft grey of storm clouds, fading to a darker slate blue at the tips of the largest feathers. Threads of silver and steel grey etch through them, and they refract the dim light oddly, half-translucent, as though they only partially exist in this plane. Which, now that Adam thinks about it, they probably do.

They're also a mess. From where he sits, Adam can see patches of broken and scorched feathers, clumps of dried blood and sulfur, places where the flesh has started to heal badly. A pang of sympathy, like a lightning bolt through his chest, and he's extending one hand out toward Michael on impulse before he realizes what he's doing.

"You can't reach them, can you? While you're possessing me? That's what you meant."

Michael's eyes track his hand, the aborted gesture hanging in midair. His face and posture have gone closed-off, rigid, like Adam might change his mind at the last moment and strike him instead. "The metaphor is imperfect, but that's essentially accurate. In Heaven, I could tend my own form. Here, my options are... limited."

Adam slides closer, until he sits at his side, facing him. Watching Michael for any sign of distress or hesitation, he extends his hand until the tips of his fingers brush a patch of uninjured feathers over his shoulder. They're softer than they look, and they buzz faintly under his touch, a barely perceptible hum of bioelectric feedback.

Jaw clenched, Michael looks away. Nods once. Presses the wing forward against Adam's hand.

"I'm going to clean the injured parts as much as I can, ok?" Adam says gently, trying to catch Michael's gaze. When that fails, he reaches out to clasp a hand to his shoulder, squeezes once. "Let me know if I should stop."

He grazes his fingertips over one of the burned patches, and Michael hisses, flinching away.

"No," he responds immediately as Adam draws back by reflex. He catches Adam's hand in one of his own, lightning quick, and shakes his head. Deliberately presses the hand back against the scorched feathers. A wince, but his eyes lock on Adam's. "You won't hurt me." His voice falls to nearly a whisper, and his hand drops away. "Please."

This time, when Adam touches him, he is still.

The damage is extensive, and Michael's wings are... well, there's a lot of ground to cover. Adam suspects that he's not getting the whole picture, somehow; that what he sees are only the parts of himself that Michael has chosen (or, perhaps, is able) to bring forward into this plane. That there might, in truth, be more injuries over more of him — and in more dimensions — than Adam's mind is capable of perceiving.

He hums as he works, fingers combing careful through clumps of feathers. Straightening those healthy enough to be salvaged, pulling away bits of dried blood and occasionally tugging free those feathers too bent or broken to be saved. Michael makes a low, pained sound deep in his chest at the first one, and Adam presses his hands back to the space immediately, soothing.

To get his mind off it, Adam speaks. "So, what, you'd do this yourself in Heaven? Or the — I dunno, whatever the metaphysical equivalent of grooming your wings is for angels?"

Michael leans into him, hip pressed to thigh and shoulder against his arm. "Yes. They'd heal more quickly if I was, as you say, able to 'reach' them. But much of my grace is currently constrained within your form. The ways in which I can manifest and manipulate it are comparatively limited."

"But you'd always do that for yourself? Not that a ton of the angels I've met seemed too friendly —" He snorts, thinking of Zachariah. "I wouldn't blame you if you were picky about who you let get that close. But you must have had someone."

For a moment, Michael goes tense against him, and his face clouds. Then it passes, as though it had never been. "No," he says, clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Adam doesn't press the issue. He leans back on his heels, then stands, stretches. "You doing ok? I should do the back." Michael nods up at him, from his place on the floor, and Adam circles behind him. Taps him on the shoulder. "Stop kneeling there and sit down." His voice is light, teasing. "I'm going to need all the height advantage I can get on your ridiculous, massive wings."

It startles a chuckle out of Michael, and Adam grins to himself. Michael settles near his feet, and Adam resumes carding through the wings. He starts at the tips and works inward, down along the leading edge, gradually moving back toward Michael's body.

When he's close enough, Michael relaxes back against his legs. Almost like he doesn't realize he's doing it, Adam thinks. He doesn't mention it, and when he moves away to start on the outer edge of the other wing, the quality of the silence between them is different than before. The pain seems to be fading, and Michael no longer shivers, but some less definite emotion is rooting in its place, something quieter and almost sorrowful.

When Adam kneels behind him to reach the places closest to Michael's body, he can feel the difference. It's in the way the wings press eagerly into his hands, rather than shying away. In the way the angel tilts back into him, posture more relaxed than Adam has seen him — maybe ever.

Adam encourages him, pressing his weight in turn against Michael's back. As levelly and casually as he can, he says, "What about the others? I was under the impression that you guys were, well, close. A family. For whatever that means for you."

"Heaven is not —" Michael tenses, but Adam just leans more firmly against him, fingers moving soothingly over his wings, and after a moment he relents. His words sound fragile, hollow, and his voice is almost too quiet to hear. As though speaking this too loudly would be too much, would mean acknowledging something he was unwilling or unable to acknowledge. "We aren't like humans; we don't interact like you do. We don't — we don't touch each other. Except to fight." He glances furtively across the Cage. In that moment, Adam sees a glimpse of his deeper nature, the weight of an impossible stretch of time on this being as old as the universe. "Once, perhaps. But not for a very long time."

Adam says nothing. Nothing needs to be said.

He sits against the wall of the Cage, spreads his legs out, and tugs at Michael's waist. Michael's wings vanish, and he turns his head to speak, but Adam cuts him off.

"Don't argue with me, ok? Just come over here."

Michael lets himself be pulled along, until he rests between Adam's legs. He leans back against his chest, and fidgets for a few moments. Then Adam curls his arms around his waist, and he settles.

"You deserve to be touched in something other than violence," he murmurs, chin hooked over Michael's shoulder. He runs hands down his arms, until their fingers twine together, pressing close to Michael's body. "Don't give me that 'not like humans' line. Just stay here with me for a few minutes."

He has no power to hold Michael here against his will, he knows. He could vanish, fly off, simply stand up and walk away — he is far stronger than Adam will ever be.

But Adam holds him, the only comfort he has to offer.

And Michael, a silent weight against his chest, doesn't move away.

[virusdotsneeze]

A Sickly Hunt (Snz Fic/Sick Fic)

So like, about 2 years ago, I wrote this story that I never got around to posting. It's a Blood//borne sick fic with one of my favorite female characters in a video game, Lady M//aria. If you're interested, look up her boss fight, it's great (especially the OST!).

Anyway, I didn't post it because I kinda thought it was a bit lacking when it came to snz content.

It's a fairly short story, and the sneezing is just kind of sprinkled in here and there, but I figured there'd be no harm in posting it.

Just a quick reminder that I'm not a writer, so this might be kinda crappy. But uh. Yeah. Here it is.

Also Idk if there's anyone here that cares about lore consistency or anything like that (I highly doubt it), but uh... Idk if I'd consider this lore friendly. I tried making it lore friendly, but I just don't know how accurate this depicts hunts.

The night of the hunt, a night where the line between man and beast is blurred, and the blood of beasts and hunters alike flood the streets of Yharnam. Multiple groups of hunters gather together in packs to fend off against the beastly scourge. Bullets wiz through disfigured muscle, cleavers clank and cleave, transforming as hunters duck, dodge, and weave their way through beast attacks as they counter to land killing blows.

A group of hunters led by Gehrman, the first hunter, is settling down for a quick break somewhere in the heart of central Yharnam. The group consists of about thirty hunters, five of which—the crow hunters-- take the backlines looking after all other twenty five hunters to see if they are showing any signs of turning into a beast.

The group settles down, they stay on the sidelines of the walls, sit on the steps of stairs, some drinking water, others injecting themselves with healing blood to keep them going. No fire needs to be started, as parts around them already glow in a bright yellow flame. Gehrman goes around the group to gather any information he can. He speaks with them to plan out their next route through the city.

Towards the end of the group, a silver-haired woman, roughly around the age of eighteen years is sitting on the ground, her legs raised in front of her, her weapon, the Rakuyo, is placed against the wall. The woman massages her temples with her fingers. She begins to cough into her hand. No blood, thankfully, however she can already feel the scratchiness of her throat. She rubs her throat, trying to ease the irritating feeling. She begins to sniffle, feeling the mucus begin to drip from her nostrils as she feels a tickle in her nose.

“Heh-xxcht!” She sneezes into her glove.

She pulls her hand away form her face, able to see a few thin strings of mucus dangling from her nose to her hand. She groans, wiping the rest of the remaining mucus from her nose with her hand. With no handkerchief on her, she wipes whatever is on her hand onto a tail of her coat. It’s not like it matters, she is already coated with various bodily fluids that aren't hers.

“Hih—ih-tchu! It-tchu!” She sneezes again, not into her glove this time. Her nose looks to be a faint pink at the tip, clashing with her pale skin. She can see small strings of mucus dripping off her lips and onto her ascot, also stained with other bodily fluids. As she is about to start wiping off the mucus from her hand, a familiar voice stops her.

“Getting a cold, are we, Maria?”

Surprised, a tall, older man showing signs of aging is standing in front of her, stained in bodily fluids much like her. He’s holding out a cloth handkerchief to the woman, Maria, giving a hint of a smile.

“Gehrman, thank you. Yes, I believe it to be a cold.” She replies to him, taking the handkerchief and blowing her nose into it. A muffled gurgle emanates from her nose as she does what she can to get all the congestion out. No matter how much she blows, though, she remains sniffly with a lingering tickle.

“Thinking about heading back to the workshop, eh?” Gehrman chuckles, fixing his hat.

“Of course not. A measly cold will not stop m-mie—EH’CHU!” Sneezes Maria into the sodden handkerchief, letting out another wet blow.

“Better a cold than be a beast, Maria. I don’t think any of us would want that. Especially with you.” Gehrman places his hand under her chin and lifts her head to look him in the eyes. He smiles warmly. Maria turns her head away with a small smirk and slight chuckle.

“Well, my business with you isn’t over yet. I just came to check in with what you’re supplied with. How many blood vials do you have? Do you have enough silver bullets?” Gehrman asks crossing his arms.

Coughing, Maria reaches into her coat pocket, but before she could pull anything out, a loud bang goes off in the distance. A gunshot. The two hunters as well as all the others turn around to see a body collapse to the floor with a Hunter dressed in black feathery garb standing in front of it, holding out a pistol.

A young man, one of the hunters, walks up to the Crow Hunter, panicked.

“What the bloody hell are ya doin’!? He wouldn’t hurt a human, he was jus’ mindin’ his own!”

The Crow Hunter steps up to the young man, grabbing the collar of his garb as they put their beaked mask to his face.

“Bend down, son. Do those eyes look like the eyes of a hunter?” speaks the Crow Hunter, a heavy accent coming from the mask.

Doing as he was told, the young hunter bends down to look at his dead friend in the eyes. The pupils are dilated and grey. “Look at his canines,” ordered the Crow Hunter. The young hunter pulled on the lips of the dead man. His canines are elongated and sharp. The young hunter steps back, panicked.

The Crow Hunter sighs and begins to walk away.

“I know he was yer friend. But this is just how huntin’ goes.”

“Eileen. What happened?” asks Gehrman as the feathered figure walks towards him.

“He turned, Gehrman. His friend is a lil’ shook. That’s the first hunter to turn tonight. An’ we still have many more hours to go.” Replied the Crow Hunter, Eileen, to Gehrman.

“Ah… Such a shame, he was a young man. Well, we best start getting a move, then. Maria, status?” Gehrman motions to Maria.

“Ahem. Ah, I have most of my blood vials. I’m rather low on my silver bull-et’chxxt!” sneezed Maria into the handkerchief mid-sentence.

Eileen makes her way towards Maria and bends over to take a closer look at her eyes. A bit startled, Maria’s eyes widen, sitting further back a bit, her head against the wall. Her eyes are a pale blue, almost grey color, but very human. Seeing this, Eileen stands up.

“Gesundheit. Forgive me, Lady Maria.”

“Oh Eileen, a simple cold doesn’t relate to a beast.” Gehrman chuckled, patting Eileen on the back.

Eileen groans.

“Be’er safe than sorry, Gehrman. Ya could never know when one is to turn. I will head to the backlines, now.” Eileen walks away from the two.

“That woman is going to be one of the best Crow Hunters someday, eh? She’s about your age, too.” Gehrman looks back at Maria, as he places his blade into the wooden mechanism on his back, unfolding into a massive scythe.

“We best make our move now. The hunt is not over yet.”

[rieson]

Midnight Espresso

Pairing : Portgas D. Ace ✗ Reader

Characters : Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy, Sabo, Makino, Red Haired Shanks, others soon to be added.

Contains : Fluff, Humor, Social Media AU, Cafe AU, College!Ace, YouTuber!Reader, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting (No powers)

Word Count : 1596

─ace stumbles across a youtube channel that he finds absolutely entertaining. he's never realized just how much positive impact you've made on his life just by simply existing and making videos. that is, until you decide to take a small hiatus. though, fate or not, during your break, ace finds you entering the cafe he works at.

chapter zero; prologue.

A break.

That was what you needed.

Let's be real, Being a Youtuber is cool and all. I mean, working from home while still doing whatever the hell you want and making money off of it?? An absolute dream.

But sometimes, It gets really frustrating and overwhelming from all the snarky remarks people leave in your comment section on every single one of your videos they can get their hands on.

Waking up and checking your comments? The first thing you see is a hate comment. Followed by other hate comments under it.

You get a rare comment from a fan that actually comments a heart-warming motivation? The replies under the said comment were harsh. Like, real harsh.

It's just, hate. Hate everywhere.

You don’t even know why they kept coming.

You didn’t do anything wrong nor said anything offensive.

Hence, that's why you decided to take a time off of social media for a bit. (Youtube included)

You uploaded a video explaining that you would be in a small hiatus until the situation calms down a bit.

The comment section was oddly not filled with any hate comments.

Which made you more suspicious.

But you still take a break anyways.

You really needed it.

──────

Unbeknownst to you, somewhere in the world, a certain freckled, raven haired, film major college student was bummed out when he heard you were taking a break.

He loved your videos.

The humor in it was always hilarious that he often rewatches your videos whenever he feels down. In other words, For comfort.

Hell, he even showed his brothers your videos and they ended up liking your content too, leading to a “(Your Channel Name) Saturday Binge watch episode” as Luffy, (his little brother), would call it.

Like the name, Every saturday, the self-proclaimed siblings would binge watch your videos in the living room until midnight. Or in some cases, even way later than that. (Ahem, cue the sibling bonding 101)

But it’s okay.

He understands why you needed to take a break.

Social media can be a bit overwhelming sometimes.

God who knows how many times Ace has gotten into an online verbal fight when he finds hate comments in your videos.

He went all out.

Thanks to his oh so ‘colorful’ vocabulary he learned a while back when he was still in an orphanage that was owned by Curly Dadan, he managed to fire them back with the same sarcasticness that made them shut up.

Ace felt g o o d .

Like, real good.

Though, he needs to watch out for the time though. He slept at 2 AM that day and almost missed his class.

But it was worth it. (Atleast to him)

Ace works at a cafe near his college, as a barista. Nothing too special but hey, he needed to pay for his college funds somehow.

A normal day at work for Ace was always very uneventful.

Hence, that's why he did n o t expect you.

YOU, his favorite youtuber to enter the cafe he was working a shift at.

Hellooo?? Was he dreaming?? Is that really you?? IN THE FLESH?!?@R$*#RY@*

He stood there.

Completely frozen.

Oblivious to everything but you.

Time seemed to freeze for him when you walked inside.

All he could focus on was how your (h/l) (h/c) hair bounced when you walked, your (e/c) orbs glistening under the sunlight that went through the windows, and just how you walked in with a posture that gives off a strict but relaxed vibe.

He could not stop looking at you, yea you were pretty but that was when he saw you on the screen.

He thought a person couldn't get prettier but oh that idea was thrown out the window when you walked in.

How can?? Someone be more gorgeous in the flesh hello??

Was this allowed??

Ace thought he was about to get a heart attack from you.

Oh god just how can one be so pretty??

He doesn't believe in gods but thank heavens to the gods up there that made you, because oh my god you were just a sight for sore eyes for him.

He also probably looked hella creepy just standing there in front of his register, gawking at you.

Ace doesn't notice you already being in front of the register he was standing in before you said something along the lines of :

“━You there━?”

Huh?

Oh.

O H

Ohmygodwhatdohedoyou’rerightthereinfrontofhimandtalking

Wait.

No.

He needed to get himself together.

He knows you hate it when people treat you like some sort of celebrity and you just want your fans to treat you like any other human beings.

So he’s going to do just that.

Ace assumes you’re on your break at the moment so he will not make you feel uncomfortable in any way shape or form.

He’s going to treat you like any other customers.

Just.. with a bit more enthusiasm (I mean c'mon man)

“Ah! Sorry there, pardon me for my rudeness ma’am. Welcome to Ivory Blue Cafe! How may I assist a beautiful lady like you this lovely evening?”

SHIT

HE ACCIDENTALLY FLIRTED WITH YOU

OHMYGODNOOO

Pleasedontthinki’macreeppleasedontthi━

A laugh.

He heard a laugh.

Your laugh to be specific.

“OH!━Pfft━aha━” You cleared your throat.

“S-Sorry about that! I didn't mean to lau━”

“Nonono! It's alright, no need to apologize. Actually, I think I need to thank the heavens for that one because oh boy i’ve been blessed by your laughter” Ace responds, cutting through your apology while he gives you a sheepish smile.

This time, it was your turn to gawk at him.

It wasn't very long til heat makes its way over to your cheeks, lightly blushing at Ace’s words but smoothly brushing it off with a light chuckle.

“━Good lord i did NOT expect that━Pfft!━ Sorry sorry. Why thank you, i’m flattered you think my laughter is a blessing” You responded as a small smile forms on your face.

Ace blushed, making his freckles on his cheeks very visible.

He did not think of anything when he said any of that to you, it was like.. The words just seem to unconsciously escape his mouth.

He was embarrassed, sure, but he made you laugh.

So that was good.

“Well, that aside. What can i get you madam?” Ace smoothly says.

“Ah!━About that, hold on… I haven't decided yet..” You mumbled but it was loud enough for Ace to hear. You unconsciously make a pouting face while you speed-read over the menus above.

God you were so cute.

Ace just wanted to squish your cheeks right there and the━

NO! He needs to be professional for now, Ace cant afford to embarrass himself (as if he didn't already do that) in front of his favorite youtuber.

Shaking his head softly, he patiently waits for your order.

“I’d like an Espresso Macchiato please.” You smiled.

“You got it! Please wait patiently as I make your order!~” Ace says as he prints your receipt, smoothly handing it over to you.

“Here’s your receipt. Please hold on to it til I'm done making your order and call your name.”

“Ah wait, speaking of name’s. May I know yours? I’ll be calling the said name when the drink is done so you can go grab it and pay at the front register.” Ace says as he smiles reassuringly at you.

“...(Y/N). Please note it as (Y/N)!” You smiled back at him.

Oh god he was about to faint right there, but NO. He needs to do this, he's a man. He can handle this.

“Alright Lady (Y/N) please take a seat anywhere and make yourself comfortable as i make your order! I’ll be right back madam”

And with that, Ace ZOOMS to the brewing area, making an attempt to calm his racing heart down but failing miserably.

He watches you from the side of his eyes as you take a seat near one of the windows, waiting patiently for your drink to be done.

Realizing something, Ace forgot to ask whether you want it to go or to drink here.

SHIT

But,,, Judging by your appearance, you’d probably want it to go so he’ll take that chance.

5 minutes go by and he’s done with your drink.

Slowly walking up to the register, Ace says your name.

“Espresso Macchiato for Lady (Y/N)?” He half-yelled.

“Here!━ Thank you so much!” You say as you reached your hand over to grab your drink.

“No problem! Here you go madam”

“Oh! How’d you know I wanted it to go?”

“Instincts i guess, i was right, weren't i?” Ace grinned

“Well then, you have very accurate instincts Mr…”

“Oh! Ace. The name’s Ace.”

“Mr. Ace” You smiled, grabbing your wallet and pulling a 50 dollar bill, handing it over to him to take.

“Wha━ Nono! That's way too much!” Ace widen his eyes

“Take it as a tip for being welcoming and friendly haha!” You chuckle, shoving the bill to his chest and letting it go once you see his hands coming to grab it.

“Have a good evening Ace-san! Thank you for your assistance!” You grinned.

And with that, you were gone.

Out the door like a flash.

Ace stood there, once again shocked.

Not noticing, his face formed a shit eating grin. No. A Wide grin.

He’s going to remember this day for the rest of his life, no doubt about it.

Shaking his head, still smiling, he gathers himself back as he takes the next customer’s orders.

prologue end.

Masterlist

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Four

Ao3,   Masterpost,   C.1  C.2  C.3

Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships

tumblr edits out my italics when i copy/paste, and its midnight on a school night, so. italics arent in the tumblr version of this chapter cuz im not manually replacing them rn :P

Warnings: Taxidermy, swearing, fights (verbally, not physically), mentions of death, sexual innuedo (thanks remus), sympathetic everyone but there is Conflict. 

Word Count: 2,645

Patton had learned, in his many years of emotion-filled life, that every person interacted with others uniquely. An obvious thing to learn, maybe, but in his younger years he felt like it really wasn’t made clear enough.

When it finally hit Patton that other people didn’t feel things in just the same way he did, it came with slow disbelief. Shocked was he to learn that not only were people so vastly different inside, but that he might’ve been one of the most different of all- even with the other sides. After all, each of them had seemed to understand all their differences like it was second nature, while Patton tried to come to terms with the information.

And come to terms with it he had, throughout Thomas’ late teens to early twenties. It was just Patton’s nature to try and learn about his friends, and that didn’t change when the task got harder. If anything, he’d become furiously determined to know how to care for all his family better than anyone, even if it more than once sent him spiralling in thought.  

Logan, for example, was at his best when he was around other people; calmly talking, debating, doing work in the same space, anything that amounted to time spent together. So, even when Patton didn’t know what he was going on about, he did his best to at least be someone Logan could talk at. Which must’ve have worked somehow, because Patton couldn’t even count the times anymore he’d realized it had been hours after starting a conversation with his best friend, the both of them grinning and talking and enjoying each other’s company. Color Logan understood!

Roman, an even easier case to crack, didn’t really care what kind of attention he got- as long as it was positive. Which Patton was of course happy to provide! Though Roman became easily suspicious of any signs of friendship, Patton liked to think he’d weaseled his way into being a close companion, if the amount of times Roman dragged him off on adventures was any indication. Roman, too, was a check! 

Virgil had been harder to figure out; not enough support and he got nervous, too much and he’d get overwhelmed. Fine balances did not come easily to Patton, so there had been more than a little trial and error. He’d eventually landed on treating him not unlike a wild cat: to just exist in the same space and let Virgil do whatever he wanted in his own time (a method that had found resounding success!). Virgil, much as he wanted to seem mysterious, was also marked off the list of understanding. 

Janus was deceptively easy to work out. He just needed someone to challenge him, all in good sport, to be friendly and frustrating at the same time. Call it environmental enrichment, but with people! Patton was more than happy to be one of those people, pushing and pulling in equal parts banter and genuine conversation. Janus, surprisingly, was clear as well. 

Patton wondered if it was weird to think about it so much. He thought about all of them, and he wondered if they took time to decode him, too. Or maybe they just knew already- they saw the heart on his sleeve (or chest, as it were) and had him all figured out right then.

He liked to believe they did spend time thinking about it, though. It was nice to think he wasn’t the only one that cared enough to take the time, and he knew that they cared about him already! Even if they didn’t say it as much as he did, even if they showed it all differently, and even if sometimes it felt like they didn’t understand him… 

They still cared. The hoodie around his shoulders said so. The card framed on his wall said so. The stray dog dander on his clothes said so. So long as he had that, who needed the luxury of understanding?

Patton shook his head, no, he wasn’t worrying about all them right now. Right now, there was someone else to worry about.

Remus. Remus, who always chatted on and on, but sometimes went dead quiet for no reason at all; whose expression never seemed to match his words, who laughed when he was happy and when he was angry, who yelled when he was bored and when he was overwhelmed. Remus, who threw himself around a corner for a cheap jumpscare every five minutes, limbs broken and wrapped in ragged, punk-style clothes. Who would also drape himself all the way across Patton gently and calmly, wearing something baggy and impossibly soft (but still neon as ever), talking and talking and acting like it was all perfectly normal. Remus, who Patton wasn’t even sure was officially his friend yet.

Patton wanted him to be. But there was still… something in the way. Some kind of frustrating, tense, unknowable barrier that left him on edge around the trait. If Remus could just tell him something, anything, or give him any hints at all about what Patton was supposed to make of him, then it wouldn’t be so downright impossible. But he was inscrutable, an open book written in a language Patton didn’t know.

Whenever Remus walked into the room, it was almost like nothing had even changed since his acceptance. 

Speaking of-

Patton barely had time to dodge out of the way as Remus leapt onto the couch, landing in a sprawl and taking up as much space as possible. He looked out of breath, so he’d probably booked it down the hallway and stairs, too. Just as probable was him having no reason for doing so at all. 

“Hello,” Patton said.

Remus, from his laid down position, arched his neck up until he was peering upside-down at Morality. He had a reserved look in his eyes, but it was obvious he was fighting not to grin. 

“Guess what I did.”

Patton paused. There were… a lot of ways that could go. Most of them weird.

“Um-”

Remus made a disturbingly accurate buzzer noise, exclaiming, “Took too long!”. He flipped over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his palms, his legs draped over the arm of the couch, and rocked back and forth excitedly. “I made you something!” 

The worry slipped out of Patton’s mind, replaced by curiosity. He hummed, smiling, and asked:

“Like a gift?” 

Remus beamed.

“Something like that!”

As Patton laughed by response, he ran his thumb compulsively over his bead bracelet (that he hadn’t taken off even once since getting, of course). 

“That’s so sweet!” he chirped, “You didn’t have to do that.”

The Duke puffed out a breath, ruffling the white section of his hair. He rolled his eyes and shifted around, pushing up until he sat upright. 

“Yeah, I know. Haven’t we done this dance before, Morey?”

“Okay, okay, I know,” Patton shrugged, his expression turning sheepish, “What is it, then?”

Remus’ grin widened in that almost impossibly way of his, and something about the glint of his teeth was distinctly threatening. It probably wasn’t intentional, but Patton could never really tell, when his claws tapped impatiently against his leg and something mischievous wormed into his expression.

“Well, you have to close your eyes, first!” Remus clapped his hands together, and there that glint seemed to get brighter.

“Oh, uh-”

“It’s not gonna be my dick, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Patton yelped, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment. 

“Well I wasn’t worried before you said that!”

Remus shrieked with laughter. Patton didn’t move his hands from his cheeks, a flush of discomfort starting at his ears and pricking his skin. 

“You’re hilarious, but no- not this time, at least,” -Remus winked- “But just close your eyes, okay?”

Patton took a couple deep breaths, glancing up to give Remus his best approximation of a stern glare. He then let his hands drop to his lap, palms up, and squeezed his eyes shut. 

There was a soft whoosh, and something small was dropped into Patton’s waiting hands. He ran the pad of his thumb over its surface, tracing something like fur. Soft, short fur, but when he pressed it was far too stiff to be a plush animal. 

“Remus,” Patton felt along the object with both hands, jolting when he felt something scaly at the end, “What-”

“You can look now!”

Patton did as told, staring down at his lap. 

There laid a rat. 

A dead one, to be precise. A dead, taxidermized rat, posed up on its hind legs like some goofy little cartoon character. It’s eyes were impersonal glass orbs, but its skin was perfectly, horribly real.

Patton looked up, his eyes wide with disgust, to see unfiltered excitement shining on Remus’ face. 

“I made it myself!” His pride echoed in the words, that grin stretching his lips looking all the more unnatural.

It was then that Patton’s body caught up with his brain, and he realized what exactly he was holding. He dropped it- all but threw it, actually- kicked it and scrambled back and anything to just get away. 

The gift fell to the floor with a dull thump, toppling under the coffee table and out of sight. Patton pressed his hand against his mouth, the other one tightly fisted in his lap. He felt sick- sick enough that his brain was leagues away from rationality. Because he’d really touched- held- that corpse, that thing that used to be a cute little critter, what was now a homemade trinket of horror.

He turned his attention back to Remus, and a million thoughts and feelings rushed him. Betrayal, horror, fear- and weirdest of all was surprise.

Remus’ smile twitched, and he tipped his head from side to side.

“You dropped it,” he pointed out, “I thought you liked rats?”

The noise Patton made was something between a gasp and a cry. 

“I like alive ones!” He exclaimed, pushing himself back until there was a good cushion’s distance between himself and Remus. 

Remus’ smile dipped lower. 

“Well, this way you don’t have to take care of it! It’s all of the cute with none of the trouble!”

“You think this is cute?!” 

He couldn’t believe this was happening, after everything- he hadn’t gotten through to Remus even a little? It was all still a game for him to terrorize Patton? To shove dead things into his lap and laugh about it?

But Remus wasn’t laughing, strangely. In fact, he was very still. 

“You don’t like it?”

In hindsight, Patton would look back on what he said with remorse so strong it gave him headaches. He had scores of memories like that, of course, but this one’s sting would never fade, not even long after they’d moved on from it. But in that moment of fear, of revile, he could not think about anything else but the feeling of being tricked by his almost-friend laying heavy in his stomach. 

“Like it? Is this- are you joking? Remus, you made me touch a dead animal! I thought we were starting to be friends, but- oh my God, what is wrong with you?!”

Patton was sure he stopped breathing right after he said that, his voice choking out. In the silence that followed, you could’ve heard a pin drop. 

Remus stood up, and everything about the way he moved showed a woundedness that didn’t suit him. He looked at Patton with an awful intensity, his ruby-red eyes practically glowing. There was nothing vulnerable about him when he was hurt, nothing at all like how Patton would respond to something like an argument. There was only anger and tension.

He didn’t smile, but his voice stayed pitchy. Gleeful. 

“Everything,” Remus hissed, “I thought you’d catch on before now, but.”

Remus spun on his heel, and the floor beneath him bubbled with oil and acid and plague as he sank into the ground and out of the living room. The carpet shriveled, sick-green, in his wake.

That was when the understanding hit him. A lot like a train. 

“Oh, no,” whispered Patton, “Oh, no.”

Patton struggled to his feet, as if on autopilot. Was he going to go after Remus? No, no, that definitely wouldn’t go over well. He was probably halfway into the Imagination by then, anyway, ready to take his anger out on his creations and not do any talking at all. 

Patton tore his eyes away from the spot where Remus had sunk out, stumbling over to the coffee table instead. He crouched, reached his hand under it, and let his fingers touch the fur of his discarded present. He grabbed it, looked down at it. The wave of nausea when he saw the little rat was now less disgust, and much more regret. 

He cradled the preserved creature in his hands with all the gentleness he could. There was a slip of thick, yellowish paper attached to it, that in all the upset had gone completely unnoticed. It was folded in half, tied with twine to the rat’s neck. 

Patton looked into the rat’s shiny, empty eyes for far too long, watching his reflection be distorted by the spheres. He took a shuddering breath, then, and thumbed the edge of the paper, felt its grain, and flipped it open. 

“This is Jenner. You can have him, because even if you’re a priss, if you can handle me you can handle having cool shit like this. Plus, you’re weirdly nice to me, so I guess I don’t mind being nicely weird to you.

-R (the funnier one <3)”

Patton read the note once. Twice. Three, four, maybe six times the words ran over each other in his head.

The paper slipped from his fingers. He held his rat in both hands and stared down its coffee-brown snout. Patton couldn’t help bringing the figurine to his chest and hugging it tightly, like it was the thing he’d hurt so badly, serving as surrogate. Its sharp fingers and tail poked through his shirt like needles, but he ignored it, holding the irrational hope that the inanimate object could forgive him somehow. 

Jenner was creepy, that was probably intentional; his proportions and pose were so uncanny it couldn’t have been an accident. And it was so, so very Remus of a thing that Patton couldn’t stand to hate it. His shift in view was so sudden, and in some sad way he realized that the conflict had been the final piece he’d needed. What let that understanding crash into Patton’s mind, painting the picture of somebody layered.

The picture of Remus, who he was, had finally clicked into place- and at the exact worst time for it to do so.

Patton had fucked up. Massively. 

He didn’t react how he thought he would when he realized it. He didn’t grow weary and exhausted, desperate to apologize and then collapse into unthinking sleep for days. Gone was the emptiness of making promises that he hoped he could hold true on, just wanting to have gotten it right the first time. No, Patton felt something burning under his skin, something itching him to take action because he’d learned from a mistake. He knew exactly what he’d done, and he was ready to do better right damn now. 

Patton breathed in deep and exhaled sharp, because first… 

He sunk out to his room, Jenner tucked into the crook of his elbow. He rose up at his bedside and shoved a handful of knickknacks off the nightstand. With enough space cleared, Patton set his rat down on the table and stood it up on his alarm clock, facing the bed. And then, as just a final touch, he smoothed back the fur of its head and gave it a peck on the forehead.

Now, he had some planning to do. 

Chapter Five

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob

[notgonnarememberthis]

find your way (back to me) - chapter ten

God, I have been SO EXCITED for this chapter. BIG praise to Em who helped me get through little hooks and finding Martin’s voice. Honestly they are crazy talented and have such a grasp for his tone and movements they’re such a big help to me and I love my best friend so damn much ok. 

Anyways!! I wanted to send this out after tonight’s ep but I have yet to watch it. I was out with my sister helping her get over a sad spell so I unfortunately missed it live and won’t be able to watch until tomorrow so I would love to avoid spoilers. Thank y’all so much!! Hope y’all enjoy the update!

Gil opens the door to the morgue, Edrisa looks up from the body with a small nod but her normal smile isn’t quite there. Malcolm stands beside her shifting from side to side. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing. JT lingers in the corner of the room, jaw set. “Ready?”

This presentation feels heavier than most. It doesn’t help either he or Malcolm that they both had to reluctantly leave the apartment so early in the morning. Ainsley remained behind, having called in a few favors to work from his place at least until the case was solved. Still, he worries. They both do.

“Yes,” Edrisa breathes, settling into the motions. “Cause of death was the slit throat. There were traces of tranquilizer in the victim, that might be how he was transferred from place to place. The state of the body suggests he’s been dead for a day.”

“He was alive an entire week. Our killer waited. He waited until mother was out of the hospital.” He’s already agitated, it’s not good.

“He wasn’t killed in Mrs. Whitly’s home. He was transported post mortem.”

“We can assume our killer has completely unraveled. This kill goes completely off M.O.”

“He’s desperate.” Gil agrees. 

“Has she remembered anything yet?” Gil turns to where JT is standing.

“No.” Malcolm sighs, “She’s going through dissociative amnesia. Ainsley did after…” He gestures, it’s enough for them to understand. “Honestly, I hope she doesn’t.”

“You do?” The question isn’t meant as a harm but he sees Malcolm flinch. There’s a flash of guilt on JT’s face but Malcolm waves him off before he can apologize.

“From an investigative standing? I would. It would certainly help narrow it down.” He shakes his head, like trying to rid of a thought that was too much even for him. “But after Ainsley remembered? She completely shut down. She looked right past us and it tore my mother up.” Gil remembers that. The blank stare lasted for hours before she finally broke down. It was Jessica who finally got her out of it, playing with her hair and singing her a lullaby. “I don’t want that for her.”

Edrisa places a gentle hand on his shoulder, and to Malcolm’s credit rather than flinching away he subtly leans into the touch.

“Did we find out any more about Freddy?” The question seems to bring a new heaviness to the room. Edrisa and Malcolm share a look, one that tells they know something that hasn’t been spoken quite yet.

“We found an ID card on the inside of his jacket.” Edrisa grabs a baggie with the ID badge inside passing it to Gil. “He was a student volunteer at Claremont Psychiatric.”

“Claremont? You think-”

“We don’t know if he has any connection to the surgeon.” Malcolm’s eyes fall to the body. “But I’ve seen him around. It was only in passing but he was nice. Always smiled when I passed.”

“Does Jess know?”

“No. But it gets worse.”

“Worse?” Malcolm bobs his head before straightening, trying to summon every ounce of professionalism he has to ignore the warring feelings.

“Freddy’s full name is Francisco Garcia. When mom was delivering her statement to the police she said Freddy helped tie the tourniquet on her leg. That his mom is a trauma surgeon.” Gil’s face sinks, coming to the same conclusion. Jessica’s doctor that had been helping in the investigation, Dr. Garcia. “Agent Swanson is on her way to the hospital to confirm our findings. But we’re almost certain it’s Dr. Garcia’s son.”

“Did she know he was missing?”

“My guess? No. He was a med student and a volunteer. He probably went weeks at a time without checking in.” Gil runs a hand through his beard. Even thinking about telling Jessica was ripping him apart. She’d connected well with her doctor, it helped that she was a friendly woman. But Jessica will want to help with funeral expenses, help the family financially for whatever they need. There’s no way he can get past telling her.

A ringtone startles them out of the somber silence. Malcolm reaches into his pocket, eyebrows furrowing when he reads the caller ID. “Ains?” His anxious movements stop as his eyes meet Gil’s “What’s wrong?” He can barely make out the sound of crying coming from the phone “What do you mean she’s gone?” Gil sucks in a breath. Gone could mean too many things. “It’s ok. Is her phone still there?” He waits with a fearful beat. “That’s good. She might have left on her own. I’m going to go see if I can track her phone. Have Dani drive you here and we’ll find her ok?”

Malcolm hangs up and he looks ready to throw something. It’s Edrisa who slips the phone out of his hand before he decides to do just that. He clenches his hand taking a deep breath before speaking.

“My mother is gone.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jessica’s eyes open to the sound of her phone chiming followed shortly by the sound of the front door shutting. From the light pouring into the bedroom she would guess its at least the afternoon. Sleeping in Gil’s bed made it easier to chase away the nightmares and if she did wake up his presence was enough to soothe her. Listening to his slow breathing lulled her back to sleep eventually, too exhausted for another nightmare.

She picks up her phone, squinting as the light hits her face.

Work emergency. Will be back soon, order takeout and have them give it to George.

So it was Ainsley she heard leaving. She sits up carefully pulling her hair up out of her face. Her phone chimes again

And don’t leave!!

She bites her tongue staring at her bags in the corner of the room. Gil and Malcolm carried all that she’d need for the stay for at least a week. The memories of last night hang over her head precariously, like a rope ready to snap.

She takes her medicine with the glass of water on the nightstand.

Her eyes fall on the shirt from last night. Gil had her change when they arrived and, truthfully, it helped her feel lighter. Yet the note in the pocket still weighs on the back of her mind. There was only one possible way he’d know how she took her tea. It was such a small detail even Malcolm, at his age, wouldn’t remember much less Ainsley. She’d stopped drinking tea for a while after his arrest. It took her years before she found a blend she liked again.

Nobody should know that.

And yet.

Jessica rubs her eyes, dread threatening to push her down into the covers where it was safe and warm again. The thoughts taste foul as she files through. She needs to go see Martin, he’s the only one with the answers. If Gil knew there would be no chance he’d let her go anywhere near Claremont, for perfectly good reasons. Hell, if Malcolm and Ainsley knew they wouldn’t let her out of her sight. Ainsley will only be gone for a short bit, if her texts are accurate.

Now is her only chance.

Getting dressed takes slower than she’s happy with. The pull makes her breath catch in her throat more than a few times. She eyes the wheelchair next to the bed for a moment. She knows the doctor’s order, but around Martin showing weakness at all is a loss. It gives him control of the conversation.

Giving him any sort of control is the last thing she wanted.

She gathers herself, dressed as she normally would. She uses makeup to cover what she can. However some of the scrapes are still so sore that she doesn’t bother. She grabs the note, giving herself a few beats to change her mind and stay. Finally, when she deems herself ready she sweeps out into the living room, opening the front door doing her best annoyed mother tone.

Her eyes settle on the officer patrolling, ready to put on the performance of her life. “Will you drive me to Claremont? My son insists that I shouldn’t be left alone and he’s visiting his father.”

“Sure thing Mrs. Whitly.” The officer, George, grins at her.

“Wonderful.”

The ride there is silent. She practices what she will say in her head over and over. Not that any amount of practice will prepare her to speak to Martin again. It only gets worse as she’s escorted through the halls. She can feel his presence long before she reaches his cell; it’s choking, a cavern that threatens to swallow her and her entire family whole.

“Jessica!” He gasps as she steps in, like he hadn’t known she’d be coming. The shock doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mr. David didn’t mention you’d be visiting today. I’ve got to say, you’ve looked better.” He gestures vaguely, talking about the scratches on her that she couldn’t cover with makeup. She’s just thankful that she could cover the bruises. “I thought for sure that our children, Malcolm especially, would have you on lockdown. Though, I suppose that never stopped you before.”

She bites the remark that’s on the tip of her tongue. If she wants answers she’ll have to appeal to him. “Malcolm is on the case, Ainsley had some kind work emergency and had to leave.”

He tuts, tilting his head. “Sneaking out? Giving them a taste of their own medicine, huh?” He straightens, narrowing his eyes oh so slightly. “Now don’t tell me you visited just to chat. Not that I’m complaining but come on, I would have put on my good cardigan.”

“No.” He purses his lips at her rejection, but doesn’t interrupt. “Last night there was a body in the kitchen-”

“Someone broke into our home?” My home. She aches for the rebuttal but the answers are too important and she doesn’t have enough time before Ainsley realizes she isn’t there. She will text Malcolm and he’ll no doubt pull every resource he has to find her here, of all places. So she sets her jaw.

“There was a note on my nightstand when I woke up next to a cup of tea that said, just how you like it.” His brows furrow before an understanding washes over him. She thinks, just for a moment.

“Classic stalker behavior.” He shrugs. “Who knows how long he’s been watching you.” She swallows, the thought making her heart freeze. His aloof behavior is betrayed by the years of visits between him and their son. He knows. “And where was the Lieutenant?”

The question scratches her world to a deadly halt. All of the anger at what had happened; the days she was trapped, the injustice of Freddy’s death, her family being threatened. All of it topples over with the words he meant as a knife to her most cherished relationship other than her children.

“Wouldn’t he be there to protect you?”

“Malcolm was.” Darkness washes over him and she watches all the fake humanity drain from his eyes. Barely contained rage makes the room feel colder. She doesn’t allow herself the step backwards that would make her feel more comfortable. “Malcolm was asleep in the chair in the corner of the room.”

“Malcolm was there?”

“Of course he was there! You know Malcolm! He wouldn’t fucking leave let alone sleep in a different room!” She lets out a shuddering breath. “He wouldn’t- he can’t-” Her words jumble and anger is making her shake painfully. Her core aches and she is almost certain if she doesn’t calm down she’ll accidentally pull stitches. “He was in my home. He was in the goddamn kitchen. He was in my room where we were sleeping!” Martin tilts his head, it’s the disapproving tilt. One that she’s seen hundreds of times when a curse slipped out in front of Malcolm or Ainsley when they were so young. He always hated when she cussed. “Malcolm, god he was so tired he didn’t even stir when I woke up.” She can feel the tears coming down but she’s hopeless to stop them now. She’s in an absolute spiral. “God knows how long he was there. How many times he walked past Malcolm. It could’ve been Malcolm.”

The last words are an almost incoherent sob. She had come here, every intention of holding her ground. And here she is having a fucking panic attack in front of her serial killer ex husband. A bitter laugh escapes her.

“It could’ve been Malcolm.” She repeats. “And every time I remember I don’t see that poor boy’s face. I see Malcolm’s. Our son.”

A hand reaches out stroking the tears from her cheek. It takes her far too long to connect the touch to Martin. “Jessie-”

She rips herself away the second her mind connects the dots. The sudden movement causes a new wave of pain. She curses again leaning against the furthest wall to regain her self control. “Stop!” She shouts, getting the attention of Mr. David. “Stop acting like you fucking care.” It hurts too much. She feels like she’s going to stop breathing at any second. When he looks at her with that much sympathy it’s too much. It reminds her of being hunched in the bathroom, morning sickness taking a toll on her. He stayed with her, holding her hair. That sympathy is not only fake, it’s toxic. Another way to gain control.

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” She snaps. “You know. You know who it is and you let us be hurt by him. What did you do Martin? What the fuck did you do?” The room holds impossibly still for what feels like an eternity. He heaves a sigh, defeated.

“Lieutenant Arroyo wasn’t the first to catch me.” The words stop her in her tracks. She watches him warily, not trusting a single word he says. “I never met him, but I received a call, a year or two before.” Her stomach sinks, the year or two before was when she’d noticed his growing absence. “He had connected me to a missing woman, able to pin me at her last seen location.” She swallows, realizing he isn’t moving. No shifting head, wild gesturing movements. It’s the truth. “He wanted money.”

“Oh god.”

“I told you I was funding a project at the hospital. Every month I would send him money for his silence.” She holds her breath. “When I got arrested the money stopped, but the calls didn’t.”

“What.”

“He would threaten Malcolm and Ainsley. He was a belligerent drunk. From what I could gather after he lost that money he lost everything, wife divorced him and took the kids. He drank to forget.” He twists his shoulders back, fixing his posture. “I helped him again. Got him into rehab. From what I could tell, he got his life back together.”

“And became a serial killer.”

“Well not all of us can be perfect, Jessie.” He continues with a shrug, “Never got the wife back but found his faith in religion. Not to keen on it myself but to each their own.”

“Where is he now?”

“From last I heard? He got his job back.”

Just like that the world stops spinning. Her pain makes way for horrific clarity. The black clothes with the covered badges. Malcolm and Gil’s frustration over his ability to get in and out of the park despite there being patrols all over the city. How he got into her home without alerting anyone. “He’s a cop.”

“Yes.”

Anxiety clamps down on her stomach. The man has been right there all along. None of them had even suspected. Hell, it could’ve been the man that drove her here. She suddenly, ironically feels herself not wanting to leave. She can’t seem to move. Her feet feel too heavy. Her mind and body aching from overexertion. 

“Jessica?” She hears Martin call to her but she feels too far away to respond. Only the wall behind her is holding her up. “Jessie.” The annoyance laced in his tone exacerbated as she hears the door to the hallway slide open. “Jess!” Panic.

The door opens beside her and Malcolm and Ainsley step in, looking equally alarmed and agitated. Their eyes fall on her, and she sees the color strip from their faces. Malcolm is on her in a second, hands holding her up by her elbows. She must look too pale because he looks like he’s ready for her to faint.

Ainsley, on the other hand, whips around to Martin, eyes accusatory. “What the fuck did you do to her?” She should stop her, a part of her thinks. Yet she still doesn’t move. It’s Mr. David who grabs Ainsley by the middle pulling her back over the red line towards safety. Whether it’s her own or Martin’s she’s not entirely sure.

“Mom. Hey, mom. Look at me.” She does. “We gotta go. Ok?” No, they can’t. It’s not safe. How did they get here? “Gil’s waiting outside. They wouldn’t let him in, but he’s going to take us back.” She relaxes a little. She needs to warn them about the cop. She needs to. But she feels lightheaded and her heels are far too unstable. “I got you, it’s ok.” And he smiles, that gentle smile when he swears that everything will be alright. “Ains, come on.”

She’s braced on both sides by her kids as she walks out with Martin shouting behind them.

[faerytale-au]

The Shopping Trip

Word Count: 3,775 Second Prompt Place: After ‘A Gate Between’ Rating: T Cross posted to ao3 here!

“going out?” Sans asked as Frisk leaned over to grab one of the empty satchels Papyrus held out to her. His younger brother offering a cheerful smile as he looked at him.

“YES, FRISK WANTED TO EXPLORE SO I INSISTED ON HER COMING WITH ME.” Sans grinned in amusement, a human wanting to go explore the Seelie realm. If he’d heard that before meeting her it would’ve been enough to send him into a chuckle fit. 

Their home could be so hazardous to humans at times.

He frowned briefly but ignored the pang of worry, she was going to be with Papyrus there wasn’t anyone else more capable of protecting her than his cool brother. And of course Frisk was going to want to explore her new home, so trying to tempt her into staying wasn’t likely to work anyhow, he had honestly expected it sooner. 

Still the fact something could happen...

With a lazy step forward he casually wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug. The other slipping a small jingling bag into her satchel. “have fun love, don’t get lost k?” 

Frisk blushed but leaned into the hug with a small smile, still getting used to the rare instances that Sans would call her by the term of endearment. But the fluster in her chest was little in comparison to her growing excitement. 

She’d been stuck in the house for a few weeks now and this was not only something she felt she needed but the brothers as well, it wasn’t good to be cooped up together nonstop. And if the new added weight in her hands said anything Sans understood to a degree.

“I’ll try not to.” She responded with a small peck to his cheek. Papyrus let out a sigh.

“BROTHER YOU WORRY TOO MUCH SHE’LL BE FINE, NO NEED TO PANIC.” Frisk raised a brow and glanced at Sans whose sockets creased with guilt. Sans was panicking? He seemed relaxed, his hold on her wasn’t tight and his tone had been as calm as it often was. 

Sans however let out a huff as he reluctantly let go of her. “you’re right bro, my bad.” 

Papyrus and Sans shared a look that Frisk didn’t know how to read but the moment they both smiled whatever had been passing between them seemed to vanish and Sans looked just a bit more cheerful as he went over and plopped down on the couch. Frisk went to question it but Papyrus was already showing her out the front door and down the steps before she could blink.

It wasn’t until they were a good several feet from the house before Papyrus spoke up. “I APOLOGIZE, I’VE NEVER SEEN SANS ACT THAT WAY BEFORE. IT SHOCKED ME. I DIDN’T MEAN TO SNAP LIKE THAT.” Frisk could only blink in confusion.

“Papyrus did I miss something?” He looked down at her questioningly. “Sans didn’t look upset or anything and you didn’t exactly snap per say.” 

The taller Seelie stopped to peer down at Frisk curiously, his stare making her fidget as she paused beside him and waited for him to continue. The way he looked at her was measuring, contemplative, and when he responded it was like he was watching his words.

“HOW TO EXPLAIN. WE SEELIE CAN DETECT WHEN SOMEONE’S MAGIC IS UNSETTLED AND WHEN WE CAN’T CERTAIN ACTIONS ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH TO TELL WHEN SOMETHING IS WRONG.” Frisk listened carefully as he rubbed the back of his vertebra awkwardly. “SANS FOR EXAMPLE, I’VE NEVER SEEN HIM BEING TOUCHY OFTEN, ESPECIALLY WHEN CONCERNED.”

He had simply hugged her, not even fully. 

How Papyrus was making it out though it sounded as if the idea of her going out had terrified him. She knew Sans wasn’t big on contact but he had been more than okay with it ever since they’d confessed their feelings to each other. 

Heck she couldn’t even cook dinner without him hugging or stealing a kiss in some convoluted way, as cute as it often was.

“It honestly didn’t come across that way.” Papyrus hummed as he resumed walking, Frisk taking a hurried step once realizing it to keep up as she eye contact. He had such long strides it never failed to amaze her how much distance he could cover.

“WELL I’M SURE ONCE YOUR MAGIC STARTS DEVELOPING YOU’LL SEE HOW HIS MAGIC WAS ACTING UP. SEELIE CAN SEE EACH OTHERS MAGIC SIMILAR TO AN OUTLINE AROUND EACH OTHER WHEN PERMITTED OR IF THE OTHER IS FEELING STRONG EMOTIONS.” Frisk furrowed her brows thoughtfully.

“Is that why you were both staring at each other? You were communicating by reading the others magic?” Papyrus smiled brilliantly, the sheer pride in it at how quickly she had figured it out making her smile in return.

“YOU TRULY ARE A FAST LEARNER FRISK, I CAN’T SEE WHY THAT LAZY BONES WAS SO WORRIED IN THE FIRST PLACE. YOU’LL BE FINE.” Frisk’s cheeks stung as they flushed at the praise, a feeling of happiness warming her chest as they walked, both of them falling into companionable silence.

~~

The street was crowded, all types of oddly shaped and differently colored Seelie all milling about either on foot or floating from stall to stall. Interestingly enough the vendors and their posts all stood out from each other, some plain and wooden, others graceful and shimmering as if made from marble and yet a few that seemed to blend in with how the Seelie roaming were dressed.

The entire area has a patched and cobbled feel to it and Frisk felt nothing but amazed at how all the chaos seemed to blend together flawlessly.

“Does it always look like this?” She asked awed as a small burst of fire magic caught her attention, a short Seelie chucking deviously as the stall vendor yelled at them. Papyrus gave a simple shrug as he took her hand and guided her over to one of the more common stalls where he released her to pick up what looked like an apple.

“TODAY IS MARKET DAY, SOME OF THESE MERCHANTS ARE FROM THE OUTER ISLANDS SO NATURALLY THEY DRESS UP TO IMPRESS.” Frisk watched as Papyrus tossed the apple up once and bobbed it before deciding to set it back down and reach for another.

“So much to learn.” She muttered as a small creature, more closely accurate to what she’d imagined a fairy was, hovered over to lift a piece of fruit and drop a gold piece nearly as big as their head into the seller’s palm. Where had they pulled that large piece from?

“IT SEEMS THEY ARE LACKING THE TYPE OF APPLES I AM LOOKING FOR.” He grumbled forlornly. Frisk looked back over to peer down and could only feel a drop of sweat roll down the side of her face. They all looked the same, but were so clearly separated from each other. 

She decided it was better if she didn’t ask. The last thing Frisk wanted was to distract or annoy Papyrus while he was trying to figure out the grocery situation. Casting another probing and curious glance around she perked up as she spotted a stall not too far down selling broaches. 

Checking on Papyrus to see he’d started speaking to the vendor. Not wanting to interrupt him she gave a shrug and began to make her way over to the stall, muttering small apologizes to the smaller Seelie she passed and barely managing not to accidentally step on.

It was only then that she noticed the odd looks she was receiving.

Her heart began to speed up as she caught taller Seelie eyeing her from the corner of her eyes, their gazes mostly snapping away the moment she fully turned to look at them. Others though gave her mixed looks, both intrigued and...frightened.

Frisk stopped and carefully looked around her before looking back to make sure she could still see Papyrus. It was only the fact she could tell he was still talking that she felt secure enough to finish the rest of her walk. With slightly hurried steps she let out a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding as soon as she made it to the broach table.

Instantly her eyes locked on a flower shaped one crusted in ivory and jade, the way the two colors twirled and blended seamlessly together causing her breath to hitch. Tentatively she reached a hand towards it but stopped as she spotted another one just outside her peripheral.

It was bone shaped and practically glowed in the morning light that shone down on it.

“Can I help you mage?” Frisk jolted at the slightly hostile tone and whipped her head up to a...giant bunny Seelie, a sunflower themed sunhat balanced precariously between two long and elegant purple ears currently twitching in agitation.

“Mage?” She questioned in confusion. The bunny offered her a dubious look.

“Yes, what else would you be as a human here? Honestly surprised you’re being allowed to roam without an escort.” She automatically thought of Papyrus and for some reason that made an unpleasant feeling settle in her chest. 

One she didn’t want to think about.

Frisk smiled as friendly as she could while gesturing to the broach. “I was wondering how much you’d like for this item?”

The Seelie glanced down at the broach wearily before snapping her attention back up to Frisk, her tone losing a bit of its sharpness in exchange for a hesitant drawl.

“Are you wanting to buy it?” Frisk feeling her nervousness build only nodded. 

After a moment of silence the bunny gently smiled and it was as if a switch had been flipped. Her whole body relaxed as she reached forward and picked up the bone, her large paws turning it over before holding it out to Frisk for inspection.

“Twelve gold pieces is what I’m asking, it’s handmade.” She was careful as she took it and ran the tips of her fingers over it a few times. It was solid and really sturdy, had enough weight behind it to tell of the dedication put into it. 

Excited Frisk handed the bone back and reached into the satchel for the bag Sans had given her, thoughts as to his reaction on seeing it only adding to her growing anticipation. With a huff she pulled out the bag and opened it, dropping the contents into her palm.

Her heart sunk.

There were ten gold pieces and two silver, not twelve. 

Dejected she let out a sigh and looked up to the bunny in remorse. “I’m sorry but I’m a bit short.” 

Something flickered in the vendors eyes, humor forming a smile mischievous and teasing on her face as she looked deliberately down at the broach. When she looked back up to Frisk her tone was too innocent sounding that it automatically sent Frisk’s guard up.

“...I can accept ten, granted you’re willing to accept a deal with me.” Frisk’s guard dropped. The bunny was offering her a discount essentially. Eager, Frisk asked, “What is it?” 

The Seelie shook her head and waved a finger. “That’s not how it works hun, you have to agree before I tell you what it is, law of assurance you know. But it’ll be small since you’re only short a little.” 

Frisk...was hesitant. 

First off law of assurance? Was she going to be asked to do something others wouldn’t be willing to? That’s certainly what it sounded like. But as she glance down to the broach all she could think about was Sans possibly grinning at her and throwing out a pun so terrible that Papyrus banned him from the dinner table again. 

She really wanted to get that as a gift for him.

It was just a small favor right? 

And it was at this point Papyrus realized his potential sister in law was missing. Narrowing his sockets as he paid the vendor he spun on his heel and looked around for the smaller human, letting out an audible gasp as he saw her tiny hand reaching out to shake the bunny Seelie’s own. 

Papyrus knew a deal forming when he saw one.

“FRISK!” He took off in a sprint, his loud voice drowning in the noise of the crowd as he weaved and dodged between people in a blind rush. Only to feel his soul freeze in his chest as Frisk shook the other Seelie’s hand right as he reached the table.

Frisk flinched at his sudden appearance but only jumped when the vendor’s hand quickly withdrew with a pleased humph. Frisk swallowed as she caught the deadpan Papyrus was giving her, his sockets clearly displeased.

“Uh…” He simply held up a hand.

“I SHALL BE HAVING A TALK WITH SANS ABOUT EDUCATING YOU LATER, FOR NOW LET’S SEE WHAT YOU JUST GOT US INVOLVED IN SHALL WE?” He didn’t like the withdrawn look Frisk gave him and retaliated by patting her shoulder and offering an awkwardly reassuring smile before facing the shopkeeper. 

“My Phoenix got away earlier today and I haven’t had time to go find her. I would like you to bring her back.” Papyrus let out a groan right as Frisk let out a surprised gasp. A phoenix? Those existed? 

And all Papyrus could think about was how it was a boring fetch quest. 

The worst kind of deal to take or wish to fulfill in his personal opinion. “DO YOU HAVE A MEANS OF TRACKING THE BIRD?” With little grace or preamble she handed over a strangle glass like object, slipping it easily into Frisk’s palm. It was perfectly oval and smooth, the flat surface shifting with smoke like texture across it. The texture flickered and quickly it shifted into a panning shot of a city.

Frisk became mesmerized as it swooped low over pearlescent type buildings covered in ivy and flowers, before turning in a ninety degree angle left where it coasted over a clear blue lake. Just as Frisk was starting to enjoy the view it faded back into smoky obscurity.

“AH, A SEEING MIRROR. APPEARS THE BIRD IS IN THE INNER PART OF THE CITY.” 

“Seeing Mirror?” The bunny Seelie spoke up.

“Objects usually tied to certain creatures or Seelie to allow you to view their locations. The magic is very specific and hard to craft. I’m not surprised a mage doesn’t know about it.” Papyrus faked a cough into his palm.

“YES WELL, WE SHOULD BE OFF. COME FRISK SOONER WE FINISH THIS THE SOONER WE CAN FINISH SHOPPING BEFORE NIGHTFALL.” 

~~

They’d been searching for three hours. 

While it had at first been amazing seeing the new sights and hearing the new sounds of the city proper Frisk was quickly growing uneasy and tired, a single glance at Papyrus said the same thing though he kept a focused eye on their surroundings.

She felt so guilty dragging him into this.

“Sorry Papyrus.” He didn’t respond at first as they slowed to a lazy stroll, keeping his sockets roaming between the mirror and the area until he gave a half heart ‘nyeh’ sound.

“I AM ONLY CURIOUS REALLY AS TO WHY WE’RE DOING THIS.” Frisk blushed and her tone was shy.

“I wanted to get something I thought Sans would like.” Papyrus stopped dead in his tracks and leveled a look at her. He was stunned. The idea of someone taking a deal from a complete stranger even a minor one was common yes, but for something as selfless as buying an unneeded item for a loved one?

He’d known right away when Sans had first brought her home that she was special if she’d caught his normally detached brother’s eye, had seen how easily Sans had lightened up more than he had in a few years the moment Frisk so much as entered a room. Even he felt more at ease and jovial at her presence.

But he hadn’t expected her to get wrapped up in something like this only for a present. 

Papyrus appreciated her so much more than he had before.

“THAT IS REALLY KIND OF YOU.” She smiled.

“Kind of you both to take me in.” Papyrus was about to make a witty retort before a sudden and loud caw, echoing like a bell interrupted him. They both looked up and Frisk’s golden eyes shot wide at the red tinted bird as the sunlight gave the red of its feathers a fire like quality.

“Is that…?”

“THE BIRD!” 

Like a gunshot it took off into the air and over a rooftop. Frisk wasn’t even thinking as she spotted a crate and rushed over, pulled herself over it and jumped up to the roof ledge where she dangled only a moment before vanishing from Papyrus’s sight. 

He went to follow, stepped on the crate, and let out a whine as it snapped beneath his foot. He stared at it in offence before shaking it off and eyeing the roof. Frisk was heading back towards the streets. With a grunt he turned and ran the way he thought they’d potentially be going.

Frisk was gasping from both strain and exhaustion as she thundered from roof to roof, her feet barely landing at the heel before she was lifting it again. A few times she almost tripped here and there, barely avoided taking down someone’s clothing line by ducking in the nick of time. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off the bird for even a moment or she feared she’d lose it. 

“EXCUSE ME! PARDON ME COMING THROUGH! TALL SKELETON COMING THROUGH!” The shouting of Papyrus’s voice drew her attention and she spared him a quick look, just enough to reassure herself she wouldn’t get lost before pushing herself even faster.

The bird flew as if it was the last thing it would do, it’s head even turning to almost glare at her over it’s large and glorious wingspan with majestic blue bitter irises. 

“C’mon don’t run! We’re not going to hurt you!” The bird apparently didn’t believe that and only gave a violent and curt snap of its wings, putting several more inches regrettably between itself and Frisk.

Then there was a gap.

Frisk made a noise as it victoriously and mockingly flew over it without pause. This was so much more than just trying to earn a broach now, the bird had in its own way fueled a fire in Frisk and she couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to.

So many times in her life growing up she’d been called useless.

She wasn’t about to be called that again if she failed to make good on this deal.

Frisk jumped.

Papyrus pulled up short, his sockets going wide as Frisk leapt the gap, her hands flying out and cupping the bird and just managing to pull it to her chest...before her feet touched down on a building that didn’t have a roof on top.

“FRISK!” He rushed forward, slid sideways and pushed into the buildings doorway right as both Frisk and the bird let out a scream. The world rushed by and she clutched the phoenix to her in a protective cradle as she braced for impact.

Papyrus dove and stretched his arms wide, his sockets lighting up as he desperately pushed blue magic to slow her decent and let out a happy cry only once her body landed in his arms with a grunt and hiss through clenched teeth.. 

They both panted as the shock of what had just happened settled in, both their holds tight and trembling. Frisk slowly started to chuckle and then broke into a loud laugh that had Papyrus frowning down at her.

“I DON’T SEE WHAT YOU FIND FUNNY FRISK.” Her humor only got louder and he felt his frown gradually fall as she pressed her forehead into his chest, noticeable tears of relief in the corner of her eyes as she pulled back to look up at him.

“I thought I was a goner for a second there! If you hadn’t moved so quickly I could’ve been really hurt, Thank you!” Papyrus felt his magic flare across his skull in a blush before finally joining in her laughter. His incredulousness at the whole situation made him realize just how much she had in common with his brother.

Both of them obviously had a habit for getting into trouble, now he had two to look out for.

“BUT OF COURSE I’LL ALWAYS BE HERE TO CATCH YOU IF YOU NEED IT! NOW HOW ABOUT WE GO RETURN THE ANNOYING BIRD AND GET HOME BEFORE SANS FLIES OFF THE HANDLE AT OUR ABSENCE.” Frisk’s laughter petered out into a playful snort as he proceeded to carry her all the way to the merchant's stall. She decided not to point out how easily he’d let two jokes slip into his words.

~~

Sans stared at the both of them silently, his sockets narrowed in concern at how they were both covered head to toe in dirt; Frisk’s hair tangled and standing on end and his normally immaculate brother’s clothing thoroughly rumpled and even torn at the left sleeve.

They both looked as if they’d gone a few rounds with an angry Gwyllion.

“been busy?” He asked as he widened a socket at them, the impression of a raised brow going unnoticed as Papyrus spoke up too evenly.

“NEXT TIME WE GO OUT I SUGGEST YOU GIVE FRISK SOME MORE THAN JUST THE BARE MINIMUM FOR CURRENCY.” Sans looked over to the human awkwardly as she blankly looked at him.

“I think now might be a good time to go over what the rules are here.” He was preparing to speak but the words died as Frisk suddenly stepped forward and smiled, reaching into her satchel to pull out a bone shaped broach.

Sans felt his soul give a hard thrum as she held it out to him, and in his shock, his happy surprise he looked up to her with silent question as if he couldn’t believe she’d gotten him something. Frisk chuckled.

“I saw it and thought of you.” Sans’s eyelights hazed lovingly and Papyrus himself almost blushed at the air of affection suddenly around the both of them.

Until Sans ruined it. “bit bonely without me?” 

While Frisk and Sans both let out uproarious laughter, leaning into and hugging the other Papyrus frowned, painfully unamused and a bit let down by how quickly the mood shifted.

 “I’M GOING TO GO SHOWER.” He grumbled as he walked past them, his tone dull but smile wide with happiness and contentment.

[thatesqcrush]

Karaoke Night

Rafael Barba x Reader. AN: Using “No Diggity” by Blackstreet at part of @thefanficfaerie’s song fic/3500 follower/birthday challenge. Also using fluff prompt #4: “you’re staring again” as requested by @lotsahugginbear.

***

“Much overdue, but cheers to Captain Benson. Well deserved,” Fin raised his beer to toast Olivia. The bar was filled with a hodgepodge from the 16th precinct to One PP to the D.A.’s office. The crowd cheered before taking sips of their respective drinks.

You smiled as you swallowed your beer. You sat at the high-top watching the crowd mix and mingle. You were a junior detective, having transferred over from white-collar crimes. Your eyes landed at the bar where one Cuban ADA who was busy talking with Olivia and the newest ADA, Sonny.

“You’re staring again,” Amanda replied, clasping a palm onto your shoulder, causing you to be briefly startled.

“Am not,” you protested before taking another long swallow of your beer. Suddenly the loaded potato skins in front of you seemed more interesting and you started to pick at one.

“You should just ask him out already,” another voice popped up. You looked over your shoulder and saw the newest detective, Kat had joined.

“What? I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” you said, bringing your hand to cover your mouth as you chewed.

Kat cocked a brow. “I may be new, but I’m not stupid. You like Barba.”

“Would you shhhh!” you hissed, your eyes darting back to the trio ahead of you.

Kat reached over and popped a potato skin in her mouth. She pinched her thumb and forefinger together and made a zipping motion over her mouth.

Amanda shrugged. “I think you should go for it, that’s all.”

At some point, enough booze had gone around to where someone thought it would be a good idea to do karaoke and a machine was brought out.

Kat and Amanda were finishing up their rendition of Salt n Pepa’s “Push It.” You had lost count of how many drinks you had. You were definitely buzzed.

“I think I am going to head out,” Rafael replied, approaching you. “Give the twosome my best,” he replied as he shrugged on his peacoat.

“No, no, no,” you protested, standing. A waitress walked by with a tray with a full round of shots. You grabbed one. Before Rafael could try to take it away, you had tipped it back. “You can’t.” Your legs were wobbly. Rafael instinctively reached out to stead you. His hands were on your waist and a jolt went through you.

Rafael could smell the alcohol on your breath mixed with the scent of your perfume. “Y/N, I think you had enough to drink.”

You shook your head and pressed a fingertip into his chest. “No. I have to do this,” you confidently stated. You never were one to be bold but alcohol always had a way of lowering inhibitions. “Sit,” you commanded.

A puzzled look flashed on Rafael’s face as you pushed past him to the karaoke machine. He watched you bend over and speak to the person working at the karaoke machine. His eyes drank in your curves that were clothed in a fitted shirt and joggers. You approached the microphone and raised your arms to tie up your hair, causing your shirt to ride up. A hip tattoo peeked out and Rafael felt his mouth go dry.

The familiar musical backing of “No Diggity” came over the bar. Rafael immediately recognized the tune. When you started to rap the intro of the song, Rafael all but fell out of the chair he was sitting in. Amanda and Kat who were talking stopped. Their jaws had dropped to the floor. You had taken the liberty to changing the gender of the lyrics and were dead-on staring at Rafael.

Shorty get down, good Lord

Baby got 'em open all over town
Strictly biz, he don't play around

Cover much grounds, got game by the pound

Getting paid is his forte

Each and every day, true player way

I can't get him out of my mind

Someone who sounded much like Fin did the “wow wow” part of the lyrics. You pointed a finger at Fin and thanked him before continuing.

Baby, you're a perfect ten, I wanna get in

Can I get down so I can win?

“Oh my God,” Rafael replied. He looked over at Olivia who was stifling a giggle. He the turned towards at Amanda who shrugged. The smirk on her face though was dead giveaway that she knew more than she let on.

He’s got class and style

Street knowledge by the pound

Baby never act wild, very low key on the profile

Catchin' feelings is a no

“Did you have a clue?” Sonny asked, approaching.

“None,” Rafael murmured. Unbeknownst to his friends, Rafael had harbored a thing for you. He thought you were completely adorable and was practically smitten with you from when he first met you in his office when you came in with Amanda in need of warrant. You were off the charts smart and had a dry writ that matched his own. However, his caseload and work schedule wasn’t exactly relationship friendly so he didn’t pursue it.

The crowd began to catch on to the chorus and it became a bit of a spectacle. Rafael covered the smirk on his face as you continued.

I like the way you work it

No diggity, I got to bag it up

You sauntered over to him, still singing.

I like the way you work it

No diggity, I got to bag it up

You winked at him, before making your way back to the stage. Rafael watched your hips sway and he felt his cock twitch slightly.

We out, we out

You finished the song to thunderous applause. You sauntered over once more to Rafael and wrapped your arms around him.

“Detective,” Rafael acknowledged, his voice low. “That was quite the performance.” Your eyes searched his. “Raf—“ you began before you stopped suddenly. You hand flew to your mouth but it was too late. Your stomach recoiled and you bent over, sick and upchucked everything you had consumed.

Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose and banged his head against the wall behind him.

“Okay, the show is most definitely over,” Sonny grimaced. “Let’s get Y/N home.” A bartender came by with a rag and key so that Rafael could use the bathroom and clean up. Rafael muttered his thanks as he made way to clean up his ruined shoes.

***

Bright and early the next morning, Rafael stopped by his abuelita’s house to check in on her. Normally he would have taken a town car from the Bronx to the city but something in him decided to forego that option, choosing to take the 4 downtown to City Hall. In another lifetime, Rafael would have stood out like a sore thumb in his three-piece suit on the subway. Due to gentrification, Rafael blended right in. He slipped his AirPods into his ear and hit shuffle on his phone. Rafael chuckled to himself as sure enough, “No Diggity” came on.

Quickly he opened the his messages and texted Olivia.

A little over an hour later, Rafael found you hunched over your desk. Olivia put you on desk duty for the day and you were grateful for it. You were leaning against your arm, the hoodie of your sweatshirt was covering your face.

“Good morning detective,” Rafael greeted brightly. He placed a large coffee on your desk along with a brown paper bag. “Liv told me I’d find you here. Call it what you want, but I got you a donut - you know, being a cop and all.”

Your brain registered who the voice belonged to and suddenly you wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Not so loud counselor,” you groaned. Even the lights of the squad room and glow from your computer were too much; you wore your sunglasses inside. You reached over to grab your bottle of aspirin and you shook out two before chewing them dryly.

Rafael cocked a brow. You and him were too alike. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Clearly winning at life,” you grumbled. You removed your glasses and Rafael inwardly cringed at your bloodshot eyes. “I’m so sorry for last night,” you apologized.

“Interesting choice of music.”

You ignored him and instead chose to focus on the report in front of you. “I ruined your shoes-I’ll pay for them to be cleaned. I embarrassed the two of us.”

“Though, in order for the song to be accurate, I have to bag it up.”

You stopped what you were doing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You heard me,” Rafael replied, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. He stood up and opened the brown bag, reaching in to take out one of the two donuts he bought.

You furrowed your brow and tried to rack your brain for a response. “I—“ you began, but no other words came out.

“I’ll pick you up at 7... shorty.”

You watched Rafael saunter off, the swagger in a full effect and you died a little on the inside feeling your panties dampen. ‘Did that just-what?’ you wondered. You reached for the coffee. A smile twitched onto your face.

“No doubt,” you murmured before taking a bite of the donut.

FIN.

***

Tags: @melsquared79 @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @amirightcounselor @neely1177 @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @misssirenlove @letty-o @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @thefanficfaerie @fanficfaeriesrafaelbarbalibrary @theenchantedgalleryofstories @mishaissocoollike @trekinthruthestarwars - anyone else just ask! 💋

[thatsystemerror]

the best things about Outer Banks

*spoilers ahead*

Holy hell, this turned out so long. I decided to make a second post solely dedicated to quotes because I just could not fit that in here anymore. I guess it speaks for this show that I had enough material to make two... Anyways, enjoy!

pt.2 - The Best Quotes From OUTER BANKS

NOT the pace at which John B and Sarah’s relationship develops

noT AT ALL

sorry, done with the venting now

anyhow, the group being TIGHT ™ 

JJ making you feel one of three ways:

“oh heLLO, JJ” (mostly without a shirt scenes)

“ugh, JJ” (he brought the gun and/or is being a dick scenes)

“awww, JJ...” (you know which scenes)

Kie’s outfits

the golden hour lighting

the sets being actual houses

the beach/sea/surfer aesthetic

the van

The Chateau™

JJ’s rings

Pope’s contributions being overlooked, always

everyone’s motivation on this show: “How much?” “400 mill”

conclusion: that’s worth fucking shit up

Kie actually being really skilled in politely but determinedly shutting her guy friends down when “macking” on her

ya know, until the Pope pity party at the end...

cuz that’s what it felt like, for real

I actually thought JJ and Pope might have a thing going...

the soundtrack full of surf guitar music

the intro font always making it feel like some 90s Miami-set crime show is about to start

John B’s hair, I think?

I mean, I don’t know what you’re into...

I just feel like it’s a breath of fresh air on the boy’s-hairstyles-tv-landscape

getting major “Don’t Breathe” vibes from the blind old lady shooting up her house

I appreciate them trying to make her actually kinda creepy, because they usually fail miserably with "scary” elements on non horror stuff

I don’t know if you catch my drift, just thought it was well done...

Sarah getting stung by a jellyfish and everyone just like not really caring??

all of them thinking for even oNE SECOND that they weren’t gonna get screwed over with the gold

JJ looking like the lead of any 90s teen production at all times

JJ just effortlessly blending in with the waiters at the party

or that time when he fake cried on command to save his ass

but like every character has good acting skills (or simply is a good liar, I guess it’s a matter of philosophy)

JJ and Pope betting money on Kie and Sarah

Kie starting a fire to save everyone’s ass

the Vlad and Val thing (cheesy for sure, but adorbs nonetheless)

highkey though the guy playing the drug dealer is a really good actor, cuz I’m sure he’s nice and cool and all irl but as Barry all he makes me think of is this:

Topper’s Frosted Tips™ (gosh that sounds so unbelieveabley sexual I can’t believe it’s not sexual)

JJ constantly trolling every authority figure

Sarah not being the perfect-snobby-rich-chick-daughter despite being expected to be by everyone

JJ robbing the coast guard of a pen? because he ignored him

“bring it on Aggie, you bitch” sign (I don’t think stroms can read but nice touch)

especially the first few episodes finally being an accurate depiction of how teenage boys always wear their hat floating like 5″ above their head and hoW FUCKING DUMB IT LOOKS!!! thank you! please stop...

Pope loosing his pants at the cemetary (like imagine him having to explain that to his mama)

the “friends” awkwardly waving at Kie’s dad

that one silouette shot ✨cinematography, bitches✨

never actually seeing John B give the BMX bike back to that poor kid...

going back to save the Big John photograph from the street (tears, man... tEArS)

John B being a major wuss while Sarah is cleaning his wound

NEVER having the gun when actually needed

ALWAYS having the gun when it could get you in major trouble

JJ taking the blame to save Pope

JB’s finger guns after his first kiss with Sarah (John B you smooth mf...)

that opening shot in ep.4 zooming in on the boat through the storm clouds

everybody being collectively surprised to see JB in a school building

the blood splattering against the window of the car with JJ and his dad in it (terrible scene, A+ effect!)

JJ sneaking through the swamp with a backpack on his head

the actor of Sarah’s dad managing to give you the creeps with some subtle crazy eyes even before it turns out he’s actually crazy

Kie fooling Pope with her British accent

Rose thinking she’s some kind of High Priestess at the midsummers party

John B putting a bow tie on JJ

BROMANCE™ (alternative title)

JJ delivering the note dancing flirtatiously

Sarah thinking pushing John B down would magically have made him invisible to Topper watching them for thE LAST 5 MINUTES??!

JJ twirling Kie around when leaving the Kook party

Topper accidently confessing his creepy-stalker-love to a 13 year old

Kie slapping John B

John B slapping Kie

violence is not the answer, kids! but I guess these were friendly slaps, so it’s okay

JB telling Sarah how “everything’s fine” with the Pogues and then cutting to it being definitely not

John B saying: “I don’t give a shit if she’s an axe murderer” and Pope making this face: 😲

a brilliant plan being ruined by a porch light

everybody constantly shitting on 1... 2... 3!

is that a The Shining reference I’m seeing????

how tf did it take them so long to realize she’s blind I-

and then once they did, Sarah states: “that bitch can’t aim” ???

like yeah, obviously, you just said it yourself sHE’S BLIND!!!????

anywho, John B not even bothering to fake excitement over the fishing trip

JJ finding “that’s what she said” disproportionately funny

the group wordlessly agreeing that somebody should probably look after JJ at the drug dealer’s

Sarah confidently telling JB she’s a virgin without it being all awkward (rare sight in teen shows back in my day)

Pope’s “Thrasher” shirt (like damn that’s off brand, but funny!)

JJ getting floaties for drinks in the whirlpool

the Whirlpool Group Hug™

JB telling Sarah goodbye before the fishing trip and me deadass thinking for a sec that he set an alarm to creep into his gf’s room in the middle of the night

Ward having sOmE NErVE to interrogate JB after killing his father (and later basically calling Rafe a psycho?!! like bitch get a mirror and baptized, thank you)

John B driving through the fence at the airport

Sarah yelling at her dad “you’re gonna kill him” like that’s gonna stop him lol

the cop at the airport giving us real talk about what police first aid training probably looks like

JB wanting to tell the cops what happened out of the goodness of his heart

Wheezie sticking up for her sister

Rafe calling John B a maniac (the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see)

JB locking himself in, in a house with Topper (like god damn, Karma’s a bitch huh)

Sarah, a teenage girl mind you, getting away from a trained-special-force-FBI-whatever-cop-dude in full armor by KNEEING him

Rafe talking to his Emotional Support Dealer™

the Pogues standing up to their parents for frIEnDsHIp!!!

JJ about to play “Operation” on his dad to get the keys

the missed opportunity to use “I Shot The Sheriff” on the soundtrack

I’m still a bit salty....

JB getting out of the cop car like that’s just normal

Pope going to shake Kie’s hand to make up

Sarah making it just in time

Ward being the “final card” lmao

Pope’s fam taking JJ into their group hug

the chill fisherman dude (with a wild romantic past?) taking in JB and Sarah

I demand a spin-off for that guy’s story btw

I’m so sorry for how long this must’ve taken to read. Seems like a good time to remind you that there’s more though: 

pt.2 - The Best Quotes From OUTER BANKS

It’s a great show (even though in parts I would’ve preferred them to step off the cheese grater a little bit). Overall (aside from the obviously heavy themes), it reminds me of all the Australian teen shows I used to watch growing up (mixed with “the Outsiders” maybe?) and it makes me actually a bit excited for summer. 

And I hate summer, so that’s saying something!

@thatsystemerror

the best things about - masterpost

[diotm]

[behind] - to fuck my muse from behind ndoul an dio

DRABBLE SMUT STARTERS & SYMBOLS // No Longer Accepting

Tadow  (music) + Drabble 

Warning: Explicit NSFW + DIO/N’DOUL PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE HARD NSFW.

DIO laid comfortable in his mattress with a canopy and embroidered headboard, drenched in beautiful red & gold silk sheets, mind directed to his book that rested against bent legs, flicking the folios effortlessly with his index. A low hum was vibrating in his cords as he actively began plotting out different ways his plans could go either right or wrong. The second option is something he demanded wouldn't occur on his time, though, he couldn't say much more than that since the group was starting to creep up to Egypt's doormat. DIO currently was wearing that skin-tight black tank with his usual bright pattern pants, feet uncovered, locks over-grown from not having a cut in awhile. Framing ivory features as some hair rested on his massive deltoids. A couple of candles flickered his lonesome chamber, only having a lamp that's snuggled next to this bed as his significant support of light during this hour. The atmosphere held a chill sting to it, but the aura decorated in warmth. Not so warmer as if a friendly welcoming, but more inviting or approachable. It had to be for the woman he falsely endeared in his chambers -- though this was something he could alter within moments depending on his mood -- & luckily, he was in a handsome mood.

 Mind tucked away in his books until he heard upon sensitive ears a familiar cane tapping away within the halls. First, it started at the bottom of the stairs following lines of rooms prior to his then came closer & closer -- soft words articulated from behind the door as he requested to enter his domain. It was no hesitation for DIO to let the man access, a simple -- "come. " was all he responded. The heavy door raked across the wooden floor, the warmth of the room swooshing with the halls as the Egyptian took a step in. Blank canvases leered downward toward the floor, looking up only when prompted -- though, it didn't matter much if he looked or not, since the other's doors were closed continuously, yet his different senses flourished. Out of all his stand users that occupied this mansion, N’Doul User of Geb was by far the most exciting & compelling, and this DIO knew to be accurate, as he watched all of those who placed their loyalty under him. Testing their strength & questioning their faith toward him more than once. As the man approached his cane sprawled in front of him, Tapping away until it collided with DIO’s bed’s leg, at that moment, he knew to kneel in the presence of his LORD. 

“What is it, N’Doul --??” DIO inquired, shutting the book as gently put to the side of him, pushing up & twisting himself off the bed, so his legs touched the floor, crossing one over the other. Amber ivories were dancing in question as to what his minion needed from him. N’Doul dressed in his original garments, a beautiful colour palette in DIO’s opinion, though a bit to dry for his taste, but it compliments his sun-weathered skin. Attracting appearance the dessert stand held -- it piqued DIO’s interest. However, his stand is where most of his appreciation came from, N’Doul was robust, intelligent & spontaneous when it came to combat with others, typically staying at a far distance away from the actual brawl, fascinating he was. “ Lord Dio, I have news regarding the Joestars.” N’doul started, left forearm resting idly on his tawny-coloured pants, as his other hand gripped his standing staff, raven tresses covering his features. Golden looped earrings were swaying as he spoke. “ Didn’t you already come to speak to me regarding this -- ??” Remarked DIO, a brow creasing as a smirk tugged on his lips ( did the other just wish to bask in his presence? ) He wondered. “ Yes, My lord ... I only wish to discuss other possibles if they were to breach earlier than expected.” He conversed, keeping his gaze low as he awaited the other’s response. “ I see, thank you. You can stand.” The blond retorted, standing up himself as he placed a hand upon his hip, weight shifting into his right, long digits stroking through his locks. “Stand.” He once again spoke as watched with delight as the other followed his command. Darkened hands now placed on top of his cane, eyes now looking forward but not in the direct gaze of his lords.  

It only took a step before DIO was towering over him, his shadow casting over the little light that caressed N’Doul’s features, the hand that cupped his hip, soon to begin gingerly stroking N’Doul chin with his thumb, strokes were long to short as he tilted the chin up.  Optics staring into his white ones, an urge that often slithered up on DIO was apparent as lust brimming his body. Core filling up with sexual arousal as did his thought dancing with the fantasies he held stored in his memory, mused continuously by the other. There was silence for quite a while before the unseeing spoke, under a hushed voice. “ Is there an issue? My lord..?” He sought out, blinking on a few times as his expression stayed still. “ No issue, N’Doul ... I do have to ask, though.” He paused. “ Do you want to lay with me -- ??” Words tinged with clear desire as too what he meant. “ My lord.. if that is what you wish. “ He complied, but this causes DIO to furrows his brow. “ my wish? I’m asking you -- as I do want to taste you, to feel you, I want you.” His typical desires were fully aroused on his need of erotic gratification, although -- This stand user brought a sensation he was not familiar to him. DIO moves his face closer to his, chilling breath landing upon those lips that radiated heat. “ Tell me, N’Doul.” again he speaks, awaiting on approval to happily please him. A flush was present on his skin as the temperature becomes to invade his expression. “ I do My lord; I would like nothing more than to feel you.. to please you, in any way I can.” He admitted the tip of his tongue peeking through parted lips. “Mhm... you are something that I’ve desired for quite some time.” Within seconds, DIO pushes his yearning lips against the others, hand sliding on his chest as he eagerly ripped the drape that covered his frame, throwing it to the side with ease. 

N’Doul’s head pushed back lightly, but he pushes against DIO’S, using his strength in the mix as both their saliva mingle with each other. Diminutive gasp released through DIO’s typical primal behaviour when it came to sexual intimacy, intense & relentless if the other can’t keep up with his speed. The heat started to rise in the room as the kissing started to escalate. N’Doul’s palms reached forward, gilding them up & around the others godly physique, feeling his abs, to the impressive tones of his muscles since he can’t see him -- to feel him was the only way he was able to imagine what his saviour looked. Both their tongues danced together in the heated cavern of their mouths, saliva dribbling out the corner of the kissed, rhythmical moans releasing. DIO hands roamed the other's body, exploring the untamed sands, picking at his clothes eager to reveal his sun-touched skin, to taste him in all ways than one.. he wanted him & he was going to get him. As both their hands started to get to know their partner, DIO quickly broke off the kiss, pulling away as a trail of their making connected their lips. A lustful breath exerts out of DIO’s lungs, orbs increasingly excited toward his breathless (meal). “ Come here.” He speaks, grabbing the wrist of the other gently as he lured them both to his sheets, shallow breathes are all that echoed in the room as tried to grasp the little air he had in his lungs. DIO pushes him onto the edge of the bed, again reaching for both his wrist to place both middles of his palm on his ass and squeezing on top of N’Douls to do what he pleased with him. A snicker parted hungry lips as he pulled his shirt from under his waistband & up and over his head. Laterals & abs were stretching as he completed this action, a broad build expanding -- revealing the work he’d placed into a body that stopped in time months back. Every surface of his muscles working as his hand placement behind the desert’s head, inciting to place warm lips against his torso. N’Doul exultantly did the action, soft brushes against his abs, turned into kissing as his palms gratifying squeezed his ass, pushing his body more into him with each second. A contentful hum leapt in his chest -- unable to explain how he got the position he was currently in, and he was not complaining in the slightest.  

DIO let his digits play around raven-tresses, massaging then pulling at them. A ferocious growl rumbling in his mouth as the warm kisses gave a tingle upon his chilled surface, loving the sensations of warmth that he forfeited centuries ago. This was the only way he was able to retrieve such a pointless act. But if it was unnecessary, why was he so addicted to it? Why was he so addicted to a human sin that he tossed away? What was it? Peering through lidded lashes toward the man he was going to ravish, admiring him. The texture of the skin, the heat he radiated, the visage of such a dignified man. He was drawn to him, sexually? Intellectually? Perhaps many things compelled him.

Releasing his hands in the others mans hair, he took N’Doul palms away from his rear & away from loving his abdomen. Instead, he directed the hands of the other above his head, pinning them with just one of his hands. “ Keep them there,” he ordered, freeing smaller wrist. He directed his attention toward undressing him. DIO didn’t take off the vest he wore but simply tore the shirt he was wearing down the middle, lowering himself to his knees to the floor, hovering over the male -- removing the cloth that blocked his ability to please him. Grand palms cup his upper body on the sides as they slide down, thumb affectionately stroking his skin, gripping him at the waist as he began to leave his pecks on his flesh. He was staring in the middle of his chest cavity, moving down his chest down to his happy trail, lips pulling teasing at the hairs until they disappeared behind his waistline. As he continued to go up & down the other's chest, his nails started to leave visible lines as he dragged & clutched the others side. A wet tongue was circling the others nipple, flicking it. His right hand slithered down to cup his erected bulge, stroking it outside of his pants as his tongue freely sucked at his nipple. Loving the reaction he was getting. N’Doul’s body begun to high-strung as louder moans left his gaped mouth, Blank canvases party open as he gazed down toward where he was feeling the other touch him. His throbbing cock pulsing into a pallid hand, hips are pushing upward in sudden drives as he couldn't help but move his arms that held above his head to entwine themselves in golden locks, clutching a handful as his heartbeat rammed against his rib cage. 

DIO was enamored by others body, built & fit, yet soft under his touch -- it excited him behind words could explain. Typically, DIO would have snapped at the other disobeying his order of arm placements, but he was content in pleasing him and enjoying his hair played with. Ears ringing with delight as his moans bounced off his walls. “ f.. fuck .. “ N’Doul sang through shaky breaths, the activity of the hands of the other stroking his cock was just too much. “ Mhm~ talk to me, N’Doul~” DIO crooned, pulling away from his chest to rise & place kisses against the sweaty features, hand still playing with him. “I’m going to make you scream my name~” He purred, again changing his placement as he pushed up, shadow engulfing the man below. Digits curl under the man's waistline, pulling it down and below his knees along with his briefs, exposing his delicious cock (decent in size & girth) that throbbed between his legs, brightly erected & flush. DIO bit his lower lip into complete awe, a sinful amount of thoughts screaming into his mind as he watched him panting. Lowering him, so his heels touched the back of his thighs, he placed himself comfortable again between his legs, spreading them more away from each other. Cold digits wrap around his shaft as he started to pump it up & down, strokes generously switching between slow and fast, keeping a keen eye on his lover's reactions. N’Doul’s body shuddered with delight as his mouth opened, even more, abdomen testing with each stroke. “ M-my.. lord.. please..” He begged, tossing his head back & forth, breathes unsteady. “ hm? what?” DIO teasingly replied, resting his thumb on his tip, moving over his cock he let a good amount of saliva drenched his fingers along with his cock, another muffled moan escaping him as DIO began rubbing up and down his urethra opening. Seeing how he was pleasuring the other he started flicking his wet organ over his head, circling around his cock, hand still stroking him as he did this action. Sticking his tongue in the others opening before he commenced placing his cock into his mouth, just the tip as each second passed more of N’Doul’s organ begun entering this mouth, making sure to continue his circle motions around his dick. The taste of others was overwhelming, The sweat his body produced as DIO continued to suck him off, squeezing at the base of his cock, his mouth now bopping up & down, making sure to wet his cock. Slurping & licking up his mess he was creating with his mouth. “ Nng--!! ah..h..mhm..” Moans and moans were what DIO lived for, knowing he was pleasing him was all that he wanted. To see that handsome expression twist into utter pleasure was what he was living for at this moment. His suction was immaculate on N’Doul, even under him squirming from sheer pleasure that brewed in his stomach he didn’t ease upon him. DIO didn’t want him to cum, but he wanted to build him up to that level. N’Doul’s thighs begun to shiver as hands gripped onto his sheets, eyes shut as his back arched up than dropped. Dio continued his process until he knew the other was reaching so he stopped, snapping his mouth off his cock, a trail of pre-cum bridge from his tip to his lips. “ Not yet.” Voice stern yet soft toward him -- The others body was in near shock as the pleasure that built him up started to vanish, but the feeling was not torn from memory. DIO Stood up, licking in & around his fingers, serpent-like tongue riding around his lips. “ We’re not done.” Again he spoke, voice vibrating the walls. N’Doul didn’t have any time to react as DIO roughly grabbed him from the waist, pulling up & turning him around so his rear faced upward with such ease it could be embarrassing so N’Doul wasn’t light, but to him, it was a like a rag-doll. Having N’Doul placed on his stomach he snaked one of his arms under his hips, pushing his exposed ass in the air & pulling off his bottom garment completely off & tossing it to the side. “ Move your body up.” He ordered, N’Doul knowing he was on a bed still manoeuvred his hands out to feel around him until DIO ordered him to stop, he was now in the middle of the bed. The vampire sprang to unbuckle his pants, revealing his own throbbing cock, standing high as he crawled himself on the bed, comfortable behind him in a doggy position. Though, the others vest was starting to urk him, so he ripped it from the back along with his shirt (he won’t be wearing those again) as he seemingly removed them. A sun-weathered back bared to him, his cock hung as it twitched, excited this experience wasn’t done. “ Mhm, yum N’Doul~” He sang, hovering over the man to place kisses upon his tender neck, allowing his tongue to ride up to his ear lobe, pulling & nipping at it. His hands massaging the others back, feeling the muscles under his skin was delightful. God, he wanted to tear him up. Nails digging into those delicious hips. Kissing him enough he trailed his lips in the dip of his back, feeling the goosebumps that rose to greet his lips -- Dio got to his hips finally, pulling away & pulling apart his ass cheeks, displaying DIO’s destination-- it was not long before again his wet tongue became familiarized with more parts of him -- licking him up to give a moist entrance for him. Tongue forcing its way into his tight hole, while doing this screams of pleasure were released, N’Doul’s chest meeting the sheets as fingers helplessly twist the silk within dark digits, saliva making it’s home on his chin. As DIO defiled his hole, he retracted -- licking up N’Doul’s taste into his mouth, wanting to lick his fingers & finger him as right now he wouldn’t be able to handle DIO’s size ... but that would result in blood more than it would pleasure, due to sharpness of his nails. His cock alone will be unbearable against his experience. Observing the saliva dripped onto his balls was fulfilling. “ We’re starting.” He warned, spitting onto his cock some more and stroking it as he watched the others limbs trembling, his own moans leaving his lips -- but he was ready. Pushing off his legs he adjusted his tip directly in front of his opening, thrusting his hips in the slightest as he watched the hole extend then close as he continued his motion. Though, a simple motion it was causing the others lower half to tense, which made it difficult. “ Relax -- “ He responded to his lover. “ I . .cant, it’s too big.. My lord..” he returned but took a deep breath in as DIO took this to his advantage. A devilish smirk pulled both sides of his lips. having his tip pushed in enough his hand's grip his stand users hips & aggressively THRUSTING into him, with no warning. A loud moan erupts both their mouths, N’Doul more so pleasure & pain, arms trembled as his mouth stayed in an opening manner but nothing came out, tears filling in the corners of his eyes as DIO pushed his body into the mattress, his arch was also very impressive. Nails tearing into his tender flesh, delicate lines of blood dripped from his hips unto his sheets. They both stood still as it was overwhelming for them both. The pleasure was out of his room as DIO could feel his cock becoming massaged inside him, wetting it every moment that passed between the two. His animalistic behaviour started to kick in as he again (without warning) started bucking his hips forward into him, slow.. slow then faster and faster. Mind overwhelmed with hearing the sounds of his ass slapping against his groin, his wet substance covering his cock as his thrust become relentless. Arms now wrapping themselves around the leaner waist(securing so he couldn't move), his teeth biting N’Doul’s trap as his breath was hitched, brows furrowed as his strokes were deep & fast. The tip of N’Douls cock rubbing against the silk sheets, soiling them as his body was nearly slammed into the bed from behind. His senses were off the roof, unable to see his sense of touch, smell, & hearing were all heightened so this experience was profound. He wasn’t even able to utter out any words, only screams & moans as his LORD’s cock entered him & left as he pleased, aroused as his older man held him in place, all he could do was squeeze the sheets & let his lord do what he wanted with him, he, after all -- devoted his life to him now.. and this experience was something he never wanted to forget.. not something he could possibly forget anyway.  DIO slide his arm directly under his hip, pushing him into his already extensive penetration, a loud moan muffled by him biting N’Doul but pleasure rode up to his body in ways you couldn’t even explain, though -- he could go like this for hours, his human, couldn’t. Freeing one of his arms from holding him in a place he cupped N’Doul cock within his palm, stroking with each firm thrust he landed onto him -- “ aarh.. nn-nnhg.. mhmm,.. d-dio ...!!!” he squealed as 30 minutes past with him stopping & coming back to stroking his cock to his pleasurable thrust.. his time was inching closer. Body started to tense up as his eyes begun to roll behind his head, saliva dripping merrily from his mouth -- DIO felt this, releasing the others trap that marked of his presence he started to kiss his neck, exciting him to look at him -- which he did, clearly out of breath. Pale lips connect to his, tongue invading his mouth into a passionate & rough, occasionally biting & pulling at his lower lip.” Cum for me~ “ he crooned, breaking off the kiss. Standing tall behind him, hands firmly placed back on top of his ass as he pounded him in sets of deep strokes out. ‘ Cum for me ~!! “ he again, moaned -- watching his dick make it’s home in him. Having nothing left to stop him from cumming, his legs tense up & as arches his back. letting out a powerful groan, every fiber in his muscle twitch as that creamy liquid squirts over his bed, pulsating at DIO ends it with a firm smack & push into him, releasing himself (early) into him, filling up. -- grabbing his hips into his own as he did so.  N’Doul chest connected to the sheets, breath heated & heavy as he goes feeble within DIO’S grasp. “Mhm ~ “ Is all he uttered, before removing himself & falling to the side of him, N’Doul following as his hips rest against the coverings. Eyes trying their best to stay open but continue to flutter before shutting. “Goodnight.... N’Doul -- we’ll talk in the morning. “ He sweetly spoke through harsh pauses. Taking one arm he grabbed lose sheets & covered N’Doul as he got up to clean himself before going for a midnight snack. 

[ellaenchanting]

Hypnovember 2019 Master List

Jesus. Jesus Christ, that’s a lot of writing. I don’t really consider myself a writer generally and this is definitely the first time I’ve written this much this quickly. I’m going to look at my word count soon, but- I think I may have written a novel’s length of words? Wow.Thanks to everyone who encouraged me during this or provided support/ideas: thinking of @daja-the-hypnokitten , @liminal-wanderings , @mr-ackerman , @spiralturquoise , @wellgnawed , @sex-obsessed-lesbian , and @hypno-sandwich especially here but there were lots of y’all who reblogged or made kind comments. I appreciate every one of them. :)

Here’s a catch up of everything I’ve written so far this month. In honor of @jukeboxemcsa, I’ve also included a HypnoBS rating where 1 is absolute bullshit and 5 is normal Tuesday night.

Icons- 📰- story. 🔊- audio 💻- technology 😍- romantic 🌈- queer 😴- regular ole’ hypnosis 🛀- brainwashing and/or hypnotist in a tub 👻- spooky 🐈- at least one happy pussy ❓- bad or reeeally questionable consent ✝️- author's weird religious feels that somehow kept coming up

Day 1: Base Character-F/f 📰😍🌈🛀🐈 

Choice quote: ”Or maybe it was the ship of Theseus- Janine seeing how many little pieces of her she could replace until she fundamentally just wasn’t the same person anymore.”

HypnoBS- I haven’t done this kind of play and have no first hand experience. Let’s say 3.

Newly added 11/18: @undersleeper requested some extra information on how the brainwashing was actually done in this story so I added this non-canon sequel. (I think the sequel boosts the BS score to a 4.)

Day 2: Colors- F/nb 📰😴 🌈

Choice quote: “Bri used to consider themselves a bad hypnotic subject.”

HypnoBS- 4. I haven’t done this induction specifically but love doing these kinds of overloads

Day 3: Dizzy- no gender specified🔊😴

Choice quote: “When you take deep breaths, you feel like you’re getting more oxygen, but actually the opposite is true.”

HypnoBS-5. Should get you in trance, we’re not ranking the accuracy of all the science herein.

Day 4: Sing- m/f kinda I guess? 📰👻❓

Choice quote:  “Tonight wasn’t the night to give in, he told himself. Not yet.”

HypnoBS- 1. Thank God.

Day 5: Poison- M/f 📰😍🛀🐈

Choice quote: “Lila could admit it. She was kind of a brat.But Sean? He was worse. He was a fucking troll.“

HypnoBS- 4? Haven’t done it, could probably make something in this realm work with the right person.

Day 6: Summon- F/f 📰😍😴🌈🐈

Choice quote: “Number one, there is no butch street cred. And number two- if there was such a thing, you and I both know that being seduced by a beautiful woman would only increase it.”

HypnoBS- 3 or 4. It’s quick and there would need to be a lot more talking generally. But sure.

Day 7: Underwear- F/f 📰😴🌈

Choice quote: “Under….where”, Destiny tested the word out loud. It sounded like a portmanteau of some sort. She understood the word “under” and the word “where” (or “wear”? “where are” maybe? maybe it was German?) but those two words together didn’t form much of a picture.”

HypnoBS- 5. Although have only done this as a hypnotist so I can’t speak to subject POV. This kind of thing is adorable to watch, though.

Day 8: Neighbor- F/f📰😍🌈 ❓

Choice quote: “When Jiyeon tapped her pencil, Alyssa tapped her pencil lightly to match.”

HypnoBS- 1. Maybe 1.5 since there are no monsters or demons.

Day 9: Idiotic- no gender specified📰😴

Choice quote: “Because Id-iotic. It’s literally what you want deep down”

HypnoBS-4. Not my thing but with the right people- sure.

Day 10: Smell- F/m 📰😴😍🛀🐈

Choice quote: “Belinda had also woken up from sexy dreams at night to the feeling of Ray’s head buried in her cunt.”

HypnoBS- 3 on the details. Some parts are more plausible than others. We’re outside my realm of experience here so others could probably rank more accurately.

Day 11: Broadcast- Hypnovirus/f 📰💻🛀✝️

Choice quote: “It felt important to present herself to the screen in a way that demonstrated her vulnerability and openness to instruction.”

HypnoBS- 4. Probably not likely, but I could see this kind of symbolic bleed with the right person pretty easily.

Day 12: Stage- M/m 📰😍🌈😴

Choice quote: “Brandon had not mentioned the hypnosis thing to Scott- it felt weird and personal and he had already half-convinced himself that he was being creepy in response to Scott’s platonic friendliness. He didn’t want to scare him off. He had never expected to see him here.”

HypnoBS- 5. At least as far as the hypnosis goes

Day 13: Bath- no gender specified 🔊🛀😴

Choice quote: *insert rambling about Pat Collins here*

HypnoBS- 5. But also a high general BS score. I was tired and needed to finish a thing. I am surprised but grateful people liked this one. :P

Day 14: Machine- M/f 📰😴💻😍✝️

Choice quote: “For as long as she could remember, Deidre had longed for self-annhilation.”

HypnoBS- 1. That’s not how brains work.

Day 15: Ooze- there’s a m and a f 📰😴🛀❓

Choice quote: “For example, your badge- did you know that putting all the stickers on the top of your badge like that usually means that you’re a hypnotist?”

Amy’s eyes widened a bit. “It does?”

HypnoBS- 2. Sadly.

Day 16: Wedding- something/f 📰👻❓

Choice quote: “She knew then that she was alone. No one could help her. No one could even see her.”

HypnoBS- 1.

Day 17: Gentle- a different something/f  📰 kinda 🐈❓✝️

Choice quote: “As long as she didn’t focus on it, it would write the story for her.”

HypnoBS- 1. I think. :P

Day 18: Infection- not stated/m 📰 🛀❓

Choice quote: “If he could just get the song out of his head, maybe he’d have a chance.”

HypnoBS- 2. 

Day 19: Hideout- F/f 📰  🐈 😍😴🛀🌈

Choice quote: “’Come to me, pet. Come to me.’ 

Mesmera.

 She could always sense when Galaxy Girl was weak. She consistently picked the perfect time to strike.

And now, she had found her apartment.”

HypnoBS-4.5

Day 20: Watch- no gender specified 🔊 😴

Choice quote: “Feel your thoughts just tick tick tick tick ticking gone”

HypnoBS-5

Day 21: Fighting- F/m 📰 😴

Choice quote: “His mistress loved resistance play. She delighted in watching him struggle and strain against an irresistible impulse.”

HypnoBS-5 Mmmm :)

Day 22: Mistaken- F/an entire hypnocon  📰  😴

Choice quote: “Ginger- submissive, wide-eyed, bottomy Ginger- was holding a crowd of 8 people in her hypnotic thrall. Some had their eyes closed already, while others were staring at her with the rapt look of early trance.“

HypnoBS- 4. But only because I haven't seen it yet. :P

Day 23: Heist- F/m  📰  🛀❓(😍 but it’s pretty messed up)

Choice quote: “The inside of the vault had gotten somewhat sparse-looking- David had been cleaning out the bank out at a much quicker pace recently- but there were still plenty of treasures here to bring to his mistress.”

HypnoBS- 3, maybe 2

Day 24: Business F/f 📰 😴😍🌈

Choice quote: “Summer was a well-mannered southern girl at heart. She knew that if something was none of her business, it was impolite and rude to know it. Best not to think about it too much. She didn’t want to be nosey.”

HypnoBS- 4

Day 25: Babble F/m📰 😴 🛀 (💻 kinda)

Choice quote: “You can feel your access to language lessening….and lessening. Feeling those parts of your brain losing blood, quieting, going to sleep. Imagine what that might look like on the fMRI- the color draining, darkening, going black. Your ability to use language can be almost completely gone.”

HypnoBS- 5 (Neuroscience BS- closer to 3)

Day 26: Enemy M/f 📰 😴😍🐈 

Choice quote: “When she was denied for long periods of time, everything became sexual.”

HypnoBS- 5. Unf.

Day 27: Confidence F/m 📰 😴❓

Choice quote: “Dr Eleanor had been recommended to Richard by his friend Jon who had seen her previously. “She won’t bullshit you,” he had said, “she just gets right to the roots of your issues and helps you solve them.” He must have known what he was talking about- a year after visiting Dr Eleanor, Jon had recently married a wonderful woman. He was also running marathons and succeeding professionally. There were worse people to listen to, Richard thought.”

HypnoBS- 3 (although this kind of gaslighting is real and can be effective)

Day 28: Abduction F/f M/f background m/m 📰 😴😍🌈

Choice quote: “’And so she….’ Lilliana stopped. She stared for a moment in surprise at the space between Cirie’s fingers. Cirie looked like she was holding a small, invisible ball. Liliana tried to recall her train of thought (something about work?) but found herself strangely blank.

She looked at Cirie in astonishment. 

‘You took it!’ she accused.”

HypnoBS- 5

Day 29: Doctor Doctor/Master (from Dr Who) 📰 😴🌈💻

Choice quote: “The doors in the Master’s mind all appeared to be open. The Doctor quickly scanned for malicious intent but-

Oh.

Oh my.

So that’s why.”

HypnoBS- I...uh...1?

Day 30: Kink The author/her self-indulgent whims 📰 🌈

Choice quote: “Ultimately, she really just  liked her friends- and she especially loved hearing all of their stories.”

HypnoBS- Cake. Imma eat a cake.

Thank you all for reading these! I know this is a long post, but I’d really appreciate reblogs of it. If you’ve liked my stories, please consider leaving me a tip on Ko-fi! Also I’d be happy to give extra information on any of the characters or a bit of what happens next if you want to send me an ask about any of these stories. I’m finding myself with a strange craving to write. Funny how that works. :P

[thiswasinevitableid]

Could you do #28 indruck? Or maybe OT4?

#28 was: Mermified. I went with Indruck. Hope you like it!

The rocks on the window start the night he moves in.

He writes it off as an anomaly, or perhaps kids from the town deciding to toy with the new resident.

After three nights in a row, he’s beginning to understand why this house was such a bargain. Yes, it’s a lovely houseboat for one on the Pacific coast, offset from much of the neighborhood for privacy. But every night, small rocks and shells will hit your window, disrupting your already tenuous sleep schedule.

It can’t be a human, because his bedroom faces the ocean, and he’d hear or see a boat or paddleboard or whatever else they used to get there. For awhile he assumes it might be a ghost; his last apartment was actually haunted by a miner who died from the Spanish Flu. They got along rather well, as he didn’t manifest often and Indrid was always careful to leave him offerings or tokens of respect on days like his deathaversary. 

But after scoping the house top to bottom, using a Oujia Board, and just politely asking if there was anyone there who needed to talk to him, he’s disregarded that possibility. 

And tonight, he’s made the mistake of sleeping with the window open, meaning the chunk of bull kelp hit’s him square in the face.

“Oh for goodness sake.” He sits up, sticking his head out the window to glare at the waves.

The waves glare back.  Or, more accurately, a face sticking out of the waves does. 

“Do you mind?”

“Yeah, I mind a whole fuckin’ lot.” The man swims right to the side of the house, locomotion too smooth for there to be legs beneath the water, “I mind because this whole area is under my protection, and this big fuckin house is gonna fuck up this cove.”

He knew there were merpeople along this coast, he just wasn’t expecting to see one up close. Or for it to be so grumpy.

“I’ll have you know I asked for multiple modifications to this house before I moved in. It is designed to have almost zero impact on the marine environment.”

“Uh huh, sure.”  The merman crosses his arms, “you ain’t just sayin’ that to get rid of me.” A flash of yellow light under the water. 

“Well, technically, I am. I would prefer to not have you hurling things at my window every night because you think my leaving is the only way for your patch of ocean to be safe. A strategy, I take it, that worked on my predecessors.”

“Yep. Most left after a couple of days.”

“Most probably had more places they could go. I do not.”

“Ain’t my problem. Never shoulda let them start buildin’ here in the first place; wrecks havoc on the forest.” He glances towards open water, tips of giant kelp just visible in the moonlight. He sounds tired. 

“How about this: you keep an eye on this cove, and if you notice any issues directly caused by my home, I will leave. But if not, you stop throwing things at my window.”

“Fine.” The merman turns, makes to dive under the water, then spins around, “but if I catch you tryin’ anythin’ funny, next time I’m throwin’ a shark through the window.”

The next night brings welcome silence at his window. The day after, however….

“What are you doin’ here, anyway?”

“Good afternoon to you as well.” Indrid doesn’t look up from his drawing; a benefit of being born with odd, future seeing abilities is that he isn’t startled by the merman’s appearance (said abilities don’t function well when he’s sleep deprived, which is why he didn’t see the merman’s initial appearance coming). 

“I mean, y’all can build houses wherever you want up on land. Why live on the water?”

“Because I find it peaceful. I have limited luck living in cities, and have grown used to isolation.”

“Don’t humans have to have jobs? You ain’t left here except once to get food.”

“Spying is impolite.”

“So is livin’ on someone else's turf without askin!” The merman raises out of the water, and Indrid finally gets a good look at him. He has dark hair, mismatched eyes and, just visible, a row of fins like those of a leafy sea dragon dotting his lower back. Ironically, his build is one Indrid finds attractive, a mix of muscle and fat that undoubtedly would feel nice to hold. Were it not for the complication of the tail.

“I am an artist. I draw for a living, hence my ability to live out here. And nobody told me there was a merman living around here, so I did not have the option of speaking to you ahead of time.”

There’s a huff of annoyance, and he barely moves his drawing out of the way of the splash as the merman disappears. 

Three days later, he’s once again sitting on the back deck when he hears, “You ain’t seen an injured seal around, have you?”

“No.” He looks up, finds the merman looking thoughtful as he scans the waves and shoreline, “ah, what does it look like? What color is it?”

“Smallish, speckled grey. Got caught in a net and all torn up gettin loose, but I can’t find it.”

“I will keep an eye out. Should I signal you if I see it?”

“Hmmm….yeah, that should work. Maybe hang somethin’ bright' on that line?” He points to the clothes line. 

Indrid closes his eyes, focuses on the futures.

The merman sniffs, intrigued, “somethin smells good.”

“It’s my lunch. It ended up not quite being what I wanted, you are welcome to try some.” 

The merman grabs the take-out bowl of soup, sipping from it gingerly. His face lights up, and then he gulps the remainder down.

“Damn, that was good.”

“It’s french onion soup. I can bring you more in the future if you’d like. Also, odds are good you’ll find the seal you seek on the beach about a mile that way.”

The merman blinks, “Shit, really? Thanks man.”

“You are welcome.”

The merman hesitates, a flash of white, barely visible in the daylight, zips under water, “Uh, name’s Duck by the way.”

Indrid smiles, “Indrid. Good luck with your search, Duck.”

Duck smiles, bright and friendly as the beach on a hot day, “Thanks.”

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

Indrid awakens with a cry of alarm. It’s only a nightmare, not even a bad vision, and yet he’s so rattled sleep becomes an unreachable goal. Hoping the night air and lapping waves might help, he drags a blanket onto the back deck, laying down with his back to the water. The nightmare pursues him still, setting off a dozen related memories and fears in his mind until he’s shuddering, trying not to cry. 

A cool hand touches his hair and he freezes for a moment before another gasp pushes from his chest, the images flooding his system too much to ignore. The hand continues down his back a ways, then starts at his head once again. 

“Why?” He says, not even sure who he’s asking it of.

“Helps the seal and otter pups when they get upset. Thought it might help you too.” Duck replies, “I was doin’ a night round and heard you yell. Came to make sure you were okay.”

He wants to say thank you, but the words are weighed down by the realization of how long it’s been since anyone did such a thing. 

“You...pet the pups? Doesn’t, doesn’t that make it difficult if they are eaten by something?”

“A little. Sharks got as much right to live as they do, but still, sometimes they need comfortin if their parents are out huntin. Not my job to protect ‘em from predators. I’m just the keeper of the forest. Means I look out for the animals, the plants. Nature does most of the work for me; lot of my job boils down to makin sure humans don’t fuck everything up.”

“It is a habit we seem to have.”

A pause, Duck’s fingers playing gently with his hair, “Not all of you.”

Indrid rolls over and Duck rests his arms on the deck, soft blue flashes coming off his tail. 

“Will you tell me more about what you do?”

“Sure.”

Duck talks and Indrid listens until finally his eyes droop closed. He wakes up hours later, a bit chilly but with the blanket drawn around him. He wonders how he avoided falling into the water in his sleep. Until there’s a soft splash as his nighttime gaurdian slips back into the waves.

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

“Ta dah! No, wait, stay over here. That’s a good boy.” Duck proudly circles the large ray he’s herded near Indrid’s boat as Indrid sits down to draw. Over the last few weeks, he’s brought the human more and more items to include in his illustrations, after Indrid mentioned he was working on a pictures for a book about marine life. 

It started with brightly colored shells or seaglass left on his deck, then Duck would ask for mason jars or bowls to help place a fish safely where Indrid could sketch it. Lately, he’s taken to shepherding larger sea life where Indrid can see it; seals, otters, rays, even a shark. It’s almost as if he’s showing off, and Indrid notices that his tail flickers bright green whenever Indrid flaps his hands with excitement or thanks him for his help. 

Duck visits him every day, even on days when there is no drawing to be done. They talk, or eat together, and Indrid has even hung a hammock out so they can talk well into the night without him accidentally rolling off the deck or Duck having to watch over him until he wakes. Duck can only be out of the water a short time, but he’ll join Indrid on the deck to sun himself, tail bright green and leafy at the “V” that marks the tip of it. When Indrid asks about the lights, Duck explains that they’re tied to his emotions, something to help merpeople signal to each other even in the darkness or murkiness of the ocean. 

Indrid buys a kayak, paddles out into open ocean with Duck as his guide, the merman eagerly showing him his favorite places, introducing him to wildlife, and generally mooning over him whenever he thinks Indrid isn’t looking. 

The mooning is mutual, of course. Duck is funny and kind, easy going now that he knows Indrid is not a threat to his beloved kelp forest. He’s also painfully handsome in Indrid’s eyes, but the futures show scant chances for Indrid to admit this fact without torpedoing the relationship. 

Their laying side by side on the deck tonight, dusk creeping across the sky. In the fading light, he notices Duck’s fins flashing between white and green.

“Are you alright, Duck? You’ve been rather quiet tonight.”

“Uh, um, yeah? Fuck. Uh, you remember me tellin’ you about my friend Aubrey?”

“The one dating the human surfer girl?”

“Yep. They, uh, Aubrey said they finally worked up to kissin. I never heard of mer kissin’ a human and likin’ it before, usually we do it on dares when we’re young and foolish.”

“You seem to be going somewhere with this.” Indrid rolls over, smirking at the future he sees. 

“No, uh, fuch, uh, I mean, would, would you ever wanna try it?”

“With any merperson, or just you?”

“Me.” Duck says softly.

Indrid leans in, cups the back of his head to draw him into a kiss, salt and sun mingling on his lips as Duck moans. Sun-warmed skin caresses his back as Duck pulls him closer, and a cool, smooth tail hooks over his ankles. 

“Indrid, I, I really, really like you.” Duck whispers, kissing a line along his cheek.

“I really, really like you as well, Duck.” Indrid runs a hand along his side, watches his tail light up bright blue at the touch.

“Can, can we try bein’ together? Like Dani and Aubrey are?”

“Of course.” Indrid grins, then gives a muffled laugh as Duck kisses him once more, rolling atop him, wiggling happily as the kiss deepens, Indrid teasing his fingers along his fins to make him whine. 

Then the mer gasps, dropping into the water and coming back up panting.

“Shit, that was close.”

“You were out too long?” Indrid shifts to his stomach

“Yep. Can’t blame me for gettin’ distracted, and honestly I’d fuckin pass out if that’s what it took to kiss you again.”

Indrid bends down, kissing him softly, “no need for such drastic measures yet. But I agree it would be nice to have, ah, dalliances that can last a bit longer. I’m sure we can think of something.”

They try filling the bathtub with seawater, but can’t get Duck to it. Indrid opts to swim, but he’s not a strong swimmer, and any beaches where they could be half in and half out of the water are either too well-traveled or made out of sharp rocks that hurt them both. 

They have some success when Indrid lays on his side, facing the water, to touch himself, moaning Ducks name and telling him just what he’ll do to him once he’s able as Duck frantically kisses him, tail flashing blue and purple. 

But after night after night of longing looks, too-short embraces, and kisses at odd angles, he decides enough is enough. 

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

“Why have you come, young man?”

“I wish to make a deal. There’s something I need you to enchant.”

The man grins, cat-like and hungry, “Very well. But it is going to cost you.”

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

Duck circles the patch of kelp he’s checking for the tenth time. He can’t focus, should just go home and rest, but he needs to keep occupied so he stops worrying about the note he found on the deck two days ago.

Duck, 

Have a problem that needs solving. May be gone several days. Don’t worry, it will be alright.

Love, Indrid.

In spite of the reassurance in the letter, he’s terrified that Indrid might be hurt. Might have left him entirely. 

An unfamiliar shape flits in the corner of his vision, and he turns.

“Holy fuck.”

“Good afternoon to you too.” Indrid grins, swimming to him a bit gracelessly with mottled black and red tail. The red and black fan of fin on his lower back flashes bright green for a moment. 

“Indrid.” Duck says with awe, not quite believing his eyes even as his tail curls around Indrid’s own.

“Indeed. I, ah, found someone who would help me. Help us.”

“Are you, uh, stuck like this?”

He shakes his head, “No, I have a charm” he holds up his wrist to reveal a small cord, “I can go back to being human as needed. But I, ah, I can no longer see the future. I...that was the trade for this.”

“You gave that up just for me?” Duck cups his cheeks, brushes their noses together.

Indrid grins, “Yes. After all, whatever the futures may hold, whatever I can no longer see coming, does not matter half as much as the future I’m holding right now.”