#just the wind and if that goes away you’re in what is called a Stall and those are bad news

[thefrogofrainbows]

Y’all I know I haven’t done anything on here I’m sorry just incredibly busy I see y’all @ ing me on all the fun posts and I wanna respond but I’m just incredibly busy rn. I’ll do em later I prommy. In other news I DID MY FIRST SOLO FLIGHT A FEW DAYS AGO!!!!! I! FLEW! A! PLANE! ALL! BY! MYSELF!!!!!! AND I DIDNT DIE!!!! I’ve solo’d a bunch since then but it’s still magical. It’s actually wild being up in an aircraft and you’re the one in control 100%

[exhaslo]

Hi again! I hope you’re doing well. I see you’re open for requests, and I have an interesting and NSFW one.

So we already have fics involving Miguel having a heat/mating cycle due to his spliced DNA with Spider DNA. How about Spider![Reader] [FEMALE] being in heat this time and she avoids everyone in the Spider Society, especially Miguel, her own “secret boyfriend”. She’s usually friendly with everyone, but recently acting like she was “sick” and doesn’t want anyone near her. However, Miguel caught wind of this and he brought her back to his lair/office (as a caring boyfriend worried about his girlfriend), [Reader] begs him to “help” with her situation.

Then things got heated and he helped relieve [Reader]’s libido.

- @club-danger-zone

Hehehehehehehe

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, breeding kink, overstimulation, begging, creampie, fingering

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What did you do so wrong in your life to deserve this horrible side effect of being half-Spider?

Why did such a thing have to happen to you?

This felt like a cruel punishment given only to you. The hero of this damn city. Someone who fought for those who couldn't; someone who fought for good; why did you have to be cursed with something so tempting and primal?

You suffered from heat, or a mating cycle as some would call it. Every now and then you would suddenly have to urge to have sex and want to get pregnant. It wasn't something you could control, nor did you enjoy suffering from it.

You had tolerated it for the most part. Save up enough money so you could call out of work during this time. Had a variety of different toys to pleasure yourself with until the pain goes away.

But this time, it was different.

You weren't sure why, but honestly you could make a few guesses. There were only a few small changes in your life since the last heat cycle. Between your personal issues and the Spider Society, your main guess for the new pain was...

Your boyfriend.

You've never been in a relationship before until now. Your heat was going crazy probably because you had a source to get pregnant now. The only issue is that you and Miguel hadn't gotten that far yet. The two of you were in a secret relationship.

Miguel was the leader of the Spider Society. It was frowned upon to be dating between dimensions. Miguel always said that you were a special case, which was why he broke that rule. You loved Miguel and were happy with him...but you never told him this secret.

Groaning softly, you laid against your bed, your fingers working furiously. Nothing was good enough. Nothing was reliving you. Your heat wasn't going away.

Recalling how Miguel's futurist world had cures for nearly everything, you felt a light bulb appear. Perhaps, there was something to calm down your heat? Hurrying to your suit, you whimpered as you used your watch to transport to the Spider Society.

-------

Miguel had just returned from a mission, grunting loudly as he dragged the anomaly behind him. Miguel was tired and frustrated. As he walked around the Spider Society, Miguel couldn't help but hear some of the others talk about you acting strange.

Curious about what was going on with his girlfriend, Miguel hurried to find you. He threw the anomaly in the cell and had Lyla search for your watch location. He was surprised to find you in one of the bathrooms.

Making his way over, Miguel made sure to enter when no one else was inside. He locked the door and approached the stall you were in.

"(Y/n), are you alright, mi amor? (My love)" Miguel asked softly as you cried.

"N-No, I'm in pain, Miggy," You sobbed. Miguel quickly opened the door, bending down to your level,

"What's wrong?" He asked, wiping your tears away.

Miguel watched as your breathing shuddered the moment he touched you. The look in your eyes were lustful as you merely whimpered, tugging against his arm. You were acting strange. Miguel went to pick you up, causing you to whine and wrap your arms around his neck.

"Migs...P-Please help me. I need...I need you." Your voice was so desperate and sweet.

"(Y/n), is this a side effect of your spider biting you in your world?" Miguel asked softly as he quickly took you to his lair.

"Mhm, y-yes. I...I'm in....h-heat," You were so cute as you barely got the words out.

"Ah-"

Miguel finally felt the click as you told him. Looking around at his large lair, Miguel knew that this would not be private enough, nor comfortable for you. So, he took you to a spare bedroom in the Spider Society and locked the door.

Right as Miguel turned around, you had already taken your clothes off. You were on your knees, practically crying as you begged Miguel to hurry.

"Aye, amor, how can I go easy on you like this?"

---------

Your mind was starting to grow fuzzy. The pain was too much, especially since Miguel was going to help you. Your clothes were getting uncomfortable so you had to remove them. You inhaled deeply as Miguel approached you, stroking your cheek.

"Mhm~"

The warmth of his hand instantly melted you. You grabbed onto Miguel, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sloppy, but you needed this. Miguel proceeded to press your body against the bed as his tongue ravished your mouth.

His hands were all over you, giving you that desperate touch you needed. Gasping, Miguel's fingers easily entered your soaked cunt, touching you in all the places you had been needing to be touch. The curl of his fingers against your gummy walls, caused you to moan and cry.

"So wet, amor. How long have you suffered from this?"

"Ah~ Ah~ S-So long....n-need you, Miggy~" You cried, shaking from cumming against his fingers.

"No, (Y/n), how long today."

"Hnnn, hours! M-Miguel, please! F-Fuck me!" You begged.

Your body needed more. The burning sensation was finally starting to go away, you just needed more. Miguel grunted softly, kissing your neck as he raised your legs. You were clenching to air, anticipating the fantastic feeling you were about to endure.

Tears started to form as you felt Miguel poke your entrance. His kisses a bit more rough as his cock started to make room inside of you. Pure bliss soared from your pussy to your brain as his thick cock stretched your gummy walls.

"I always imagined our first time...a bit more romantic," Miguel whispered, grunting softly as he kept pushing.

"S-Sorry t-that...ah~ I-I can't...mhm contro-"

"Shh, don't be sorry," Miguel grunted, finally setting fully inside of you, "I'll make sure to give you as much as you want. I'm happy to help."

You just moaned to his words, feeling his cock kissing your cervix. Your pussy fluttering around his cock as you cam from insertion. The warmth you were feeling was building up inside you. That knot growing as you moved your hips, needing more friction.

With each thrust, you started to lose your senses. Every slap of Miguel's hips brought you to heaven. Your body just melted against his as the noises the two of you made because almost pornographic. The wet slapping noises over powering his grunts.

"You're so loud, amor. Everyone will hear you," Miguel grunted as he pressed you into mating position, "What do I have to do to keep you quiet?"

"C-Cum, ah~ i-inside~" You cried, shuddering from the overstimulation.

The burning sensation was finally going away and all you wanted was Miguel to fill you. Breed you. Each slap of his cock inside you was almost painful from how sensitive you were. Jolts were shocking every part of you.

"Anything for you,"

Miguel groaned softly in your ear as he gave you his first hot load. You moaned, shuddering from cumming again. Your body was feeling sore, but you kept begging for more. This was too good to stop. Miguel's cock made it's home inside of you.

-------

Miguel gripped your hips as he kept fucking you stupid. Your moans were so loud and sexy that he couldn't hold back. Your pussy was dripping against the bedsheets, coating his cock white. His cum threatening to spill out of your poor pussy.

Your eyes were glossed over with a fucked out expression, drool nearly rolling down your lips. Cursing lowly as Miguel felt you squeezer against his dick again, he tried to control himself. Your body kept begging for more, no matter how fragile you both were now.

"Mig-" You choked, sobbing from pleasure, "M-More...j-just..."

Your words were barely coming out. Miguel frowned at the state you were in, but couldn't refuse. He brought you in for another deep kiss before giving you another heavy load.

--------

A soft groan escaped your lips as you started to wake up. Your vision was blurred, but once you started to come to, you noticed that you were in Miguel's place.

"Hn-" You winced, trying to sit up but couldn't.

"Don't move. You're body is still sore and exhausted. Here's some water," Miguel sighed softly, sitting beside you to give you the drink, "How are you feeling now?"

"M-Miguel," Your voice was low and scratchy, "I-I'm sorry...I...I made you-"

"You didn't make me do anything. I offered to help, besides, I can't resist my poor girlfriend in pain," He cooed, kissing your head.

"Sorry,"

"Just next time, (Y/n), tell me when your heat starts. I want to make sure you get your fill before you come crying to me."

Feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you nuzzled against Miguel, agreeing to his offer. Hopefully with Miguel helping you, there will be less heats.

Ha.

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Hope you enjoyed!!!

[callivich]

calli my beloved, i am on my hands and knees asking if you have any additional musings on that brothel au. please i am starving. a crumb, i beg 😔🤲🏻

Ray! 😍🥰💖 I do have lots of long-winded thoughts (when don’t I? 😅) so here are some ramblings….

Version 1

Ian’s new to the job and he’s liking it so far. He has a nice little reception area behind a screen and he can play on his phone using the brothel wifi when there’s no customers. He deals with the customers, or ‘clients’, but has rarely seen the ‘employees’. His boss is rarely around. It’s a nice, clean place which Ian really wasn’t expecting. It’s not luxurious or upmarket but it’s definitely not a terrible place.

Ian is having a tough time. He wants a relationship but he feels a bit naive/embarrassed about all that stuff because he’s inexperienced/has no experience. He spent a lot of his teenage years dealing with his diagnosis and he feels he’s missed out now in his early twenties.

He goes on Grindr and tries to hookup but he has a bad experience with a guy who makes fun of his lack of experience. It puts him off and so he’s staying away from that for the time being.

The brothel has a book with information and pictures of all of the employees. Ian has looked at it and was instantly attracted to Mickey (there’s info about him and what he will/won’t do and a very attractive pic of his face). But he hasn’t met him yet.

It’s a bit of a meet ugly situation at first when Ian accidentally books a client when Mickey already has a booking. So he gets an annoyed Mickey stomping downstairs in the ugliest robe Ian’s ever seen, asking Ian “what the fuck do you think you’re doing double booking? I don’t do spit-roasts, dumbass”.

Ian is a little bit scared but a lot turned on. He promises not to get the bookings wrong again.

He thinks he won’t see Mickey again but Mickey appears the next shift when he’s got no bookings. He sort of interrogates Ian in a joking way and they begin to have regular chats - Mickey in his robe that is barely tied properly, always sitting a little too close and smelling a little too delicious.

Ian shares and/or Mickey kinda guesses Ian’s inexperience. Mickey says that anytime Ian wants to try anything out or learn something, Mickey will teach him. Ian thinks Mickey is joking but he’s not.

He thanks Mickey for the offer but says no thanks.

Then the bathroom on the main floor breaks and his boss tells him he can go upstairs to use the employee bathroom. Which is nicer - completely enclosed cubicles rather than stalls and much cleaner than the downstairs one. Ian discovers by accident that one of the cubicles has a vent and when he presses his ear against it, he can hear everything in Mickey’s room.

He eavesdrops on a session and gets incredibly turned on. But feels guilty for eavesdropping. He promises himself he’ll never do it again but then Mickey gets a client who also has the name Ian.

Ian can’t help it, he has to listen in - just to overhear Mickey moaning the name ‘Ian’. Even if it’s not about him. He jerks off but then when he exits the bathroom, he runs into Mickey who notices Ian’s flushed appearance. Later on, he figures out about the vent and is very amused.

Thinking Ian might come back and listen again, Mickey starts to call all his clients Ian. “That’s not my name-” “fuck you, you’ll answer to what I call you!”

Mickey confronts Ian and tells him he knows he’s been listening in. He offers Ian a session for free again.

Ian takes him up on the offer and they have a lot of fun, even if it is a bit awkward at times. They have more and more sessions, Mickey teaching Ian everything he wants to know and letting him try out what he wants.

They both like each other but Ian thinks Mickey is just being kind to him and Mickey thinks Ian is too good for him. Lots of miscommunication until one of them reveals they are falling in love…..

Version 2

Basically the same as version 1 but Ian is seeing someone. They haven’t done anything physical because Ian is nervous. Mickey says he’ll help him practice whatever he wants.

The guy Ian is seeing pressures him a bit (he’s kinda a villain) but Ian doesn’t exactly pick up on this being bad for awhile.

Some kind of dramatic moment where the guy finds out Ian’s been practicing stuff with Mickey and he gets angry, calls Mickey a whore. Ian gets angry in turn, realises he loves Mickey and defends him. Tells the guy to fuck off.

Cue romantic passionate kissing and revelations of love.

Version 3

Ian is trying to be celibate because he keeps hooking up with the worst guys. Working in a brothel is probably not the best environment but he rarely sees the employees.

Mickey is instantly attracted to Ian and likes teasing/flirting with him. Ian flirts back (and struggles not to get turned on) but makes it known he’s not hooking up with anyone at the moment.

Mickey backs off ~respectfully~ (or as respectfully as Mickey can 😅) but still spends his breaks talking to Ian.

Slow burn, lots of long conversations where they open up to each other. They are clearly falling in love but neither want to admit it.

Ian realises he’s getting very jealous of Mickey’s clients and decides to quit and get a different job. But he can’t stop thinking about Mickey. He realises he loves him. But what should he do about it?

Mickey checks his bookings: 2pm - Clay. He doesn’t recognise the name, it’s a new guy. Mickey opens the door and is shocked to find Ian standing there, holding a bunch of flowers and asking if Mickey wants to go on a date.

Basically I have a lot of thoughts about brothel AUs 😅 I would love to write some of these but I can’t write smut and these sorts of AUs need smut.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty-One

The days in Cyprus feel nothing like the days at home. They’re missing the structure, the pattern, the routine, and a few days in I lose grasp of where I am in the week. Is it Wednesday? Thursday? The boys study and write for far too much of their time, usually taking up the evenings hunched over their laptops, which I find horrifyingly wasteful, considering the breeze is such a perfect temperature, and the flagstone of the house is warm underfoot in April like some divine miracle of nature. 

I’m doubly horrified to walk in on them both at the kitchen table one morning, laptops and papers covering every inch of the surface. “What the hell?” I say, still half dazed from sleep. “It’s ten, are you setting up to be doing this all day?”

“You’ll understand when you’re in fourth year, Evie,” Shane mumbles. “The exams are looming large.”

“Here’s a concept, enjoy your holidays,” I say, and I shuffle over to Jude to gently squeeze his shoulders. “Bibliography?”

“Bibliography,” He grunts, and that’s all he will say until he can tear his eyes away from it. He’s a terrible multitasker, and gets so absorbed in things that he might as well be on another planet. In fact, I’m surprised he even realises there are other people in the room. 

Claire appears from the laundry room with a clean set of towels and swoops over to the kitchen counter to put them into a large canvas bag, then throws open the fridge to retrieve a jug of fresh orange juice. “Looks like a girl’s day out,” She says with sparkling eyes. “As in, no boys allowed.”

“Oh thank God,” I roll my eyes theatrically, “They’ve been such a drag this entire time, I can’t wait to get away from them,” In fact they’ve been completely lovely, and my joke is wasted on them now because neither of them is even listening. 

Claire and I have a quiet breakfast around the kitchen island while the boys work and the birds chirp happily outside the open door to the patio, and when we’ve cleaned up and gotten ready for the day she goes to kiss her boyfriend goodbye. 

“We’ll probably be all day,” She says to him with a hand that smoothes down his hair, longer and more relaxed looking than it’s ever been. “I have some pretty fun things in mind for us, so I’ll see you much later on,” She smirks at me, “Or maybe not, who knows what we’ll get up to, we might end up out all night.”

“As long as ye behave yourselves,” He mutters.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of your girls day?” He glances up at her with a smirk, “Yeah I’m mad jealous, I can’t get over it. Go on,” he smacks her lightly on the arse, “Get up outta here, give us some peace, the both of ye.”

She studs his whole head with kisses, and I smile to myself watching them. They’re behaving in such a way that would have ordinarily disgusted me, but seeing them like this lately has only made me happy, like a little girl whose parents are getting back together. I lean my hip into Jude so that he can wind his arm around my waist and kiss the side of my ribs. He looks up at me through thick dark lashes, one hand still resting on his keyboard. “Will you miss me?” He says.

“No,” I tease, “I’ve had way too much of you already.”

“Fair enough, I’m mostly good in small doses.”

“Yeah, get me away,” I roll my eyes and act like I’m so tired of him, but the moment that Claire and I are out the front door I feel the weirdest longing in my body, an absence like a phantom limb. We climb into the taxi that we called for, and as we’re reversing out of the driveway I crane my neck in the seat just to catch one last glimpse of him through the kitchen shutters, craning over his work with the morning light in his hair. 

The flea market in Paphos is crowded. As Claire and I walk towards the centre of the heaving mass of bodies we lose ourselves entirely in a cornucopia of wares. There are stalls piled high with linens, pillowcases with delicate embroidery, rugs rolled and stacked against walls, brown clay pottery, little boxes adorned with tiny beads, stalls stuffed with leather goods, hats, scarves, bandanas. Lost in a maze of colour and texture I feel like I’m inside a painting. 

Claire stops and drapes a patterned scarf over her hair, bending down to admire herself in a small mirror. “Grace Kelly,” Says the vendor, and he speaks English, knowing we are tourists just by looking at us, “This is a very beautiful scarf for you.”

“I don’t think I’m like Grace Kelly,” She says, and neatly folds it back onto the table. “I’m just blonde, that’s all.”

“No, you have the same eyes,” he insists, coming around the table to admire her, “Just like Grace Kelly, this scarf is the perfect colour for you.”

“No,” She says again, sounding bored, “I’m a bright summer, this scarf has autumn tones, I don’t want it” and she links her arm with mine and guides me away from him before he can start trying to convince me instead.

“That would have worked on me,” I confess as we move on to the next stall, “I feel like someone could charm their way into my purse by telling me things like that.”

“Don’t say that too loudly,” she snickers as we pass another vendor who starts calling to us, saying we’re English roses. “Irish,” Claire hawks back in her best Tullamore accent, then to me, “I hate that, do you not? When they always think you’re British.”

“They always do, what do you think it is about us?”

“Your sunburn, probably,” she teases, and I stop at a mirror at a clothing stand to examine the rosy blush across the shoulders and chest. “One time when Jude was in Thailand this guy tried to fight him on the street when he thought he was English,” I tell her,  “When He said he was Irish, actually, the guy bought him a beer, what do you think that’s about?”

“Well he’s not really,” She says with a roll of her eyes, “Sounds like he’s just playing the Irish card when it means he won’t get dragged into a fight.”

I laugh, “I don’t know, a lot of the time he seems deeply Irish to me, sometimes I forget he isn’t. Like, all the way, at least, because his accent is so changeable, and the way he phrases things sometimes just really doesn’t feel that American,” The owner of the stall starts approaching with an armful of white linen. “I don’t know what he is. Something in between, it’s really so interesting.”

“You’re so obsessed,” Claire says with a laugh, “I challenge you to go an hour without bringing him up.”

“Everything reminds me of him though,” I huff, and the vendor, without saying a word, holds a dress out in front of my body so I can see how it might look on me, “I swear, I see a seagull eating scraps off the ground and remember a story he told me related to that too, he just bounces around in my head endlessly. Oh this dress is nice, what do you think?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Claire agrees. 

“Genuine linen for a good price,” the vendor starts saying, as though she believes somehow that I might be a tough-sell. What she doesn’t know is that I, for the first time in my adult life, have a bank account with money in it that I’m more than eager to spend. Then she says more things about the weave, and the hand sewn detail, about how I would look good in anything, but I’m really just focussing on the way that the colour, this slightly off white, creamy fabric makes my skin look like soft porcelain rather than it’s usual almost sickly, translucent white, and now these delicate embroidered details across the bodice pick up the green in my eyes. 

“What does it cost?”

“Usually fifty euros, but thirty five for you.”

“Twenty,” Claire pipes up. 

“Okay, thirty,” they both look at me. “Alright,” I say, “Thirty seems fair.”

“You just bought a dress that you didn’t even try on,” Claire points out as we walk away, and I peer down into the striped plastic bag. 

“You’re right,” I say, “But isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is, it’s just not like you, you know, to like, just buy something without thinking about it.”

“I think I like having money in my account that I can do that with, it just feels like, why not?”

“And if it doesn’t fit you?” 

“Well I think there’s freedom in impulsive purchases.”

I like the market. I move from stall to stall and look at everything, the pottery, the rugs, the postcards, the stalls full of vintage items, old records and lamps and pieces of ceramic. I let my hand brush over things, like I’m really thinking about buying it, and sometimes I even entertain the idea, but I don’t, until we arrive at the one with the sweets, heaps and heaps of them, prismatic, primary shades, glittering with sugar, and I buy a bag of peach rings, because I was never allowed to have them as a child. For some reason these were considered expensive, luxury sweets by my mam, and she’d usually direct me towards the ones that the local shop had tied up in little plastic bags with 50p stickers on the side and filled with an assortment of whatever was leftover at the bottom of the tubs once most of them had run out. I eat several of the peach rings but get sick of them because they’re too sweet, and it’s okay, because Jude will eat them for me later. It feels nice to be frivolous. 

There is a woman moving through the crowd in a long skirt and a colourful shawl who is stopping to talk to people as she goes, trying to sell them something, I don’t know. I look at her for ages because her clothes are mesmerising, all rich jewel tones that move around her body like liquid, and layers of glass beads hang around her neck, reflecting cones of coloured light onto her bronzed skin. I want to try and paint that light to see if I could ever capture it. 

Claire pokes a sharp elbow into my ribs. “Stop looking,” she hisses, “She’ll only come over.”

“Who is she?”

“I dunno, some fortune teller or something, it’s a scam.”

“Oh,” I don’t look away fast enough, and she meets my eyes through an opening in the crowd. 

“Oh feck, she’s coming over now,” Claire turns away and pretends to be busy looking at some lace, “C’mere, just turn this way.”

It’s too late. The woman is at my elbow. “Kalimera,” She says in a smoky voice, and I realise with a tiny thrill that she hasn’t realised I don’t speak greek, she doesn’t think I’m a British tourist. I look right at her as she goes on, saying something else that I can’t understand, and when she reaches for my hand and flips my palm skyward I don’t stop her, I don’t really know why.

“I’m sorry,” I say to her, “Um, in English?”

“Ah,” she says, her accent thick, words fractured, “The lines, they talk much. Destiny, life, heart.”

“You want to tell me about my future?”

“For God’s sake, Evie,” Claire grumbles somewhere behind us, “Let’s go, come on.”

But I don’t want to be rude. “You know, I’ve actually had my palm read before, I don’t really think that I need it today.” She doesn’t have to know that I’m talking about Jen, who just looked at my hand and made stuff up, but anyway, she doesn’t seem to understand me. 

“Eh?”

“No thank you,” I say more clearly, “I don’t want it.”

She doesn’t care. “I see destiny line, great success, you work hard, eh?”

“No,” I say awkwardly, and wriggle free of her grip. “We have to go now.”

“Tarot,” She says abruptly. “You know?”

I blink, “Like, as in, tarot cards? Like, death, the lovers, all that?”

“Yes, yes,”

“What about it?” 

Claire groans dramatically and tugs on the strap of my shoulder bag and I ignore her, my interest suddenly piqued. 

“I can show you,” The woman says, “There is another reader, not me, over there,” She gestures vaguely down the street behind her. 

“How much?”

She waves her hand around indecisively, “Maybe ten euros,”

I shrug, “Okay,” and glance over my shoulder at Claire who looks incensed. “Evie! What the hell?”

“I’m curious, “ I shrug, “I think it might be fun.”

“Yes, a fun way to waste your money.”

I sniff, “Well, it is my money, and I can do what I like with it.”

“You’re throwing it away on things like this, it’s all just fake, they just make it all up.”

“Well, maybe it’ll be insightful, I don’t know.”

She throws her hands up in surrender, “Okay, fine.”

I turn back to the fortune teller, “Where do I go?”

“Here,” She says, and begins to weave through the crowd. I follow, and Claire is at my heels, muttering into my ear, “Wherever it is, I’m standing right nearby, and if they try to scam you out of more money I’ll actually go mad on them, I just can’t believe you’re actually going to throw your money away on this, it’s just…”

We end up at a wooden door tucked in between a cafe and a bookshop. There are plants from the balcony overhead hanging low above it, and pots of ferns and climbing mandevilla creeping up the wall intriguing me, beckoning me inside like it’s a secret entrance that has emerged from the wall at this particular hour on this particular day when the sun is at its perfect height to thrust a chink of light through the gap in two buildings upon it, but there’s a sign on the door saying TAROT READINGS €10 which kind of ruins the mysterious allure. 

“Here?” I say to the palm reader, but she’s already gone. Claire sees my stunned face and points towards a produce stall. “She’s there,” She says, “She’s off propositioning someone else, in case you were thinking she’s after vanishing into a puff of smoke or something.”

“No,” I lie. 

“If you want to go in I’ll be right out here.”

“Alright,” I say, and push through the door. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 8 of the reincarnation au! If you have any questions or suggestions for the au don’t be afraid to ask!

@daboyau

@rottmnt-background-screenshots

The group walked along several stalls selling a multitude of items of the season. Brown and orange leaves decorated the dirt path in front of them. A sudden cold burst of wind that swirled the leaves around hit Tora’s already red cheeks. She shuddered as it sent a chill through her body.

Tomo glanced over at her and immediately undid the scarf he had on. He carefully and snugly wrapped it around her. She snuggles her face into the still warm fabric and smiles up at him.

“Thank you, Tomo.”

“You’re welcome.”

Aoi opens up his top coat layer and suddenly envelopes Tomo with it.

“Can’t let you get cold either! I’m a human furnace!”

“Aoi! Let go-…..you weren’t kidding.”

They had all grown over the years, but Aoi definitely grew the most. He explained once that everyone in his village would have huge growth spurts.

“Can I join?” Kosuke asks, looking at them with big eyes.

Aoi opens up one side and Kosuke happily goes in. Aoi holds them both close in a tight, but not too tight, hug.

Kosuke smiles and sighs happily.

“So toasty.”

Tora chuckles, the sound muffled slightly by the scarf.

There’s suddenly some commotion that draw their attention to further in the village.

A group of parents were loudly, panically, talking about how some children were missing. It sounded like they had been playing in the woods and didn’t come back.

Aoi let’s go of Tomo and Kosuke while Tora leads the way over to the concerned people.

“Show us the last place you saw them, we can go look.”

They all went to the area and began searching, calling out the kids’ names.

Kosuke searches through bushes and eventually hears faint yelling and crying. When he follows it, he’s eventually at an area that if someone wasn’t careful, they’d go right over the edge.

Looking down proved that it already happened.

“They’re here!”

The others and the parents rush over. One of the mothers shrieks and covers her mouth in horror.

The kids had landed on a ledge below, alive but clearly hurt. There were about three of them.

“We need to get them away from there. We don’t know how stable that is, especially after all that weight fell onto it.” Tomo advises.

“Maybe if we can get it make a rope?” Aoi proposes.

Kosuke looks over the cliff.

“U-Uh…..I don’t think we need to figure that out.”

“What? Why? Wait, where’s….Tora!!” Tomo shouts as he sees that she had started climbing down.

Her claws, the neko-te, allowed for her to basically stick to the cliff side as she made her way to the kids.

“Be careful!“ Aoi yells.

“I can concentrate better if people aren’t yelling at me!” Tora retorts.

She carefully places her feet on the ledge and instructs the kids about how it was going to go.

She would carry the heavier ones first to make sure she’d have enough energy to keep doing it.

The first time she goes up, the parents quickly lift their child off her back.

She makes her descent down again very quickly, maybe to avoid her brothers telling her it was too dangerous.

The process was repeated with the two other children. It was just time, as the ledge had been even more brittle with this last climb.

The last set of parents scooped their child up and hugged him tightly.

“See? I’m fine!” Tora lifts her hand to solid ground.

It gives way.

She screams as she hangs by the one claw still stuck in the cliff.

“Tora!” Aoi tosses off his top coat and rips it until it’s long enough to reach her.

He steps to the edge and lowers it down.

“Wait! It’s still unstable!” Tomo warns too late.

When Tora grabs the makeshift rope and Aoi tries to pull her up, more ground falls off.

Tomo feels his heart nearly stop. There’s was no way for them to survive a fall from that height.

He sees one of the parents hold back Kosuke from doing anything.

There was a rush of the worst possible déjà vu imaginable.

Two more family members were slipping through his fingers, again.

No.

Not again.

Not this time.

He jumps off the cliff with such speed that with one blink he was gone.

Aoi was holding Tora with his back facing the ground. He wanted to have at least one of them survive.

Tomo was not going to make them choose.

He refused to choose either.

He grabs onto Aoi with one arm and takes out his bō with the other.

His eyes glow a bright white as he strikes towards the ground. A powerful blast lands, the shockwave slowing them all down.

They eventually hit the ground. The impact was a lot less than it could have been but still fairly rough.

Tomo groans in pain as he lays on the ground, but quickly sits up as he releases the landing had made him let go.

“Aoi! Tora!” He scrambles over to where they landed.

Aoi sits up, holding Tora in front of him.

“Are you okay!? Did you get hurt anywhere!?”

“N-No, I’m fine, I….is Tomo a wizard?” She looks over at him.

Aoi does too.

“Tomo, what was that?”

“I….I have no idea. It felt like I was barely in control. I just….I couldn’t lose you two.”

They suddenly hear loud screaming coming from the top of the cliff.

“Kosuke! He probably thinks we died!” Tora quickly moves off Aoi.

She takes off running to find a way back up.

Aoi stands up, wincing slightly.

Tomo takes his arm and puts it over his own shoulders to help him walk.

“You’re a real life saver.” They begin following Tora.

“I could have used this power when I was losing my other family. Where was it then?” Tomo grumbles.

“Maybe you weren’t old enough? Or….maybe it wouldn’t have helped. We don’t even know what it is, trying to figure it out after seeing it just once would be pretty hard.”

“….You’re right. Questioning random magic would be dumb, wouldn’t it?” Tomo sighs.

“It’s okay to be frustrated.“

Tomo glances at the ground.

“I’m grateful for what I saved. For who I saved. I promise.”

“I’m grateful too, you know. Not just for the save. You didn’t have to join me and Tora those years ago. It was convenient, but you and Kosuke could have left when things got bad. You could have just left, period.”

“That’s not how I am.”

“I know. You wouldn’t have gone after us if you were. What I’m trying to say is….I don’t know where we’d be without you. You’ve saved my life more than once.”

“You’re getting awfully mushy.” Tomo teases.

“Hey, I just had another near death experience, give me a break.”

They both chuckle.

“You and Tora would have been fine. You were fine before you met us.”

“I don’t ever want to be just fine again. You….saved me twice, saving Tora. Hearing her scream hurt more than losing my eye.”

“…..I get it. I do.”

“I’d feel that way about any of you. I know we can’t replace the people you’ve lost-“

“You’re right. You can’t. What we have doesn’t replace anything. It….adds on. I had a sister, and now….I have another one. I had no brothers, and now I have two.”

Aoi smiles widely at him.

“A bigger and younger brother?”

“By the gods, are you ever going to drop that?”

“Look at me! Do I have to make you feel like an ant for you to admit it!?”

“You don’t even know if you’re actually older than me!”

“And you can’t prove me otherwise!”

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“It’s a biggest brother privilege.”

Tomo rolls his eyes but smiles.

They eventually catch up to Tora who Kosuke was hugging as tightly as possible.

He looks at them as they walk over.

“You’re alive!….And glowing!?”

“Again!?” Tomo looks around.

He finally sees that Kosuke wasn’t talking about just him.

There was glowing between him and Aoi.

The turtles open their eyes.

“Eugh boy, we’re not good with heights in any life, huh Raph?” Leo looks at him.

“You can say that again.”

“We’re not good with-“

“You know what I meant!”

“So they are able to listen to us! They showed us what we asked for. Although, they’re us, so….we saw what we wanted to see?” Mikey looks confused.

“I say we do what they learned and don’t question mystic powers too much.” Leo pats his head.

“Do ya think….they’d show us….you know….” Raph trails off quietly.

There’s silence.

“If it’s what I think it is, you shouldn’t ask about it so soon.” Splinter advises.

“Dad’s right. That’s probably the last thing we’ll see. I don’t think we’d even want to ask.” Leo adds.

Donnie crosses his arms.

“I’d prefer not seeing the first invasion either, but considering that they made a key to stop it, it’s unavoidable.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty of happy memories to see before any of that!….Right?” Mikey smiles uneasily.

“Well, we did get our first invasion this young.”

Mikey whimpers softly.

“Ignore Dontron, he barely got his mystic powers in that memory. There’s no way they could figure out how to make a key already. I bet they’re ancient once they’re do, like 40.” Leo theorizes.

Splinter grimaces at how he thinks that 40 is old.

Raph starts counting on his fingers.

“Uh….wasn’t Casey J.R. from around the time in the future where you and Donnie would be like 40?”

“Do we always die before we can even get to a midlife crisis!?” Mikey further panics.

“We changed the future! We’re probably going to be even older! And we don’t even know if our past lives died at 40!” Leo tries to rationalize.

“If we go by our turtle DNA, Leo would have a lifespan of 40, 70 for Raph, and 50 for me and Mikey. If we go by human standards, it’s about 76. I have no data for mutants but yokai live up towards hundreds, if not thousands of years.” Donnie explains.

Mikey frowns deeply, his large eyes ready to cry.

“Donnie! Maybe ease up a little bit?” Raph holds Mikey close.

“Oh please, when you all come back as ghosts you’re getting shoved in robots. We’re going to become the best possible combination in the world, sentient technology! That’s why it doesn’t matter how many years we have left, I’m just going to extend it. Even if I die first my ghost is going to be pulling all nighters! I won’t even need to sleep!” Donnie says with stars in his eyes, cackling like a maniac that somehow obtained a PhD.

Mikey perks up.

“Can mine still catch things on fire?”

“Michael, you dishonor me if you think for a second I wouldn’t include that in our amazingly cool future robots.”

Mikey moves away from Raph and hugs Donnie instead.

Leo smiles at that before standing up.

“Alright, I’m going to grab some water. You guys want anything from the kitchen?”

“Flavorless juice.”

“Regular juice!”

“Raph will take a water too.”

“I don’t need anything, Blue.”

“Got it! Be back in a sec.” Leo heads off to the kitchen.

The others begin talking a bit as they wait for him to come back.

When they hear the sound of glass crashing, they move as quickly as possible.

Leo was on his knees, holding his wrist as there was glass around him.

“Aoi! Did you hurt yourself!? Let me see!” Raph takes a step forward.

“No! Stay away! I’m not cut!” Leo says shakily.

At a closer look, there was no blood anywhere.

“Then what’s going on? What happened?” Splinter questions.

Leo’s body shakes alongside his voice.

“I-I can’t control it. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Nardo, control what?” Donnie furrows his brows.

Leo let’s go of his wrist and makes a distressed noise looking at his other hand.

Mikey can’t take it anymore and hops up onto a chair to see what Leo was seeing.

Electric blue was creeping up his veins.

[thesunshineriptide]

Shake it Up

What if you and the dorm leaders were in swapped positions? Now, Azul Ashengrotto is the magicless prefect from another world, while you are the conniving octomer ensnaring people in contracts.

Characters: Azul, Jade, Floyd, You (Reader), mentions of Crowley and Jamil.

Cw// acting out of character (kinda), overblot stuff, indentured servitude, Jade Leech typical behavior, Floyd Leech typical behavior, mentions/implications of injury

Come winds of the Caspian Sea

- Azul…doesn’t want to be in this world. He’s got a lot to do, he’s helping manage his parents restaurant and he has schoolwork he’s desperately trying to catch up on. And, more importantly, he’s stuck in a world that is definitely not his own and he hates it

- He hates that he’s easily pressured into being a janitor for Crowley within hours of arriving in a dilapidated dorm. He hates how this motherfucker can lord his power so strongly over him and he can do nothing, because there’s no recourse.

- Azul has no Grim to worry about, surprisingly. He does have his braincell duo though, which just makes him want to bang his head against his wall. Yet, he can’t find it in him to turn them away when they show up begging for help with their dorm leader.

- you’re the housewarden of Octavinelle, the one who embodies the pure benevolence of the sea witch herself, an ultra-talented and betentacled beauty that additionally had time out of your day to manage each of your students dutifully, and run a cute little coffee and tea shop that sincerely set the mood that Octavinelle is a relaxing, calming place.

- Well, other than the fact your vice housewarden, Jade Leech, was helping to run a background operation focused on providing the…finer things in life.

- Azul, magicless and lost in a world he didn’t know, decided that steering clear of you and the shady mermen at your beck and call was probably the safest choice for him.

- He’d heard of you and the favors you could grant someone but…he knew better than to accept that something would come for free

- Bullied in his world for being “slow” and “fat”, he’s terrified of being seen as weak or worthless, which means being at the bottom of the food chain makes him insanely nervous

- What else makes him nervous? The fact that your eel mermen seemed to have taken a personal interest in him.

- “Eheheh, you’re like a little octopus yourself! I could just gobble you down, eh Jade?”

- “Fufufu, don’t taunt the poor thing Floyd, you’ll scare him off.”

- Azul. Didn’t want these two around. But he could not stop them from following him. Jade began to escort him from class to class, carrying his books for him and clearly trying to get some sort of information from him, but what it could be was Azul’s best guess

- Floyd took to hovering nearby and scaring off any would-be bullies, deciding rather quickly that Azul was under his protection and he was now the only one allowed to bother him.

- Azul is remarkably good at managing your cafe. Whether it’s because he’d perfected his customer service persona or because he had business tactics memorized from his own world, who knew.

- It was likely, however, to be related to his parents restaurant and his time working there while younger that helped him help you

- When you end up creating a school wide network of servants over the course of a few months, Crowley goes to Azul to get him to deal with it. Azul is, frankly, not interested, but after some blackmail persuasion he finally decides to get involved

- “You know, Azul. With one of my contracts, I could give you some magic. Perhaps not a lot, but enough to help you. You could protect yourself, excel in classes. I could even offer you a spot here in Octavinelle, if you’d like to make a deal.”

- It’s the perfect trap, carefully laid out by yourself and Jade, ready to ensnare him.

- “I…” Azul contemplates it. He can feel the tweels eyes on his back as he stalls, “I want to make a deal.”

- A deal is made, and Azul does indeed get magic. Slight problem though, you control how, when, where, and why he gets to use it. So really, he doesn’t have magic except when you need him to go corner some student who didn’t pay their debt.

- Unsurprisingly, he wants out pretty quick. He’s gonna miss having magic but anything’s better than this

- Remember how in the original timeline, Yuu/MC pulls out a supervillain plot? Yeah Azul does that, except he has no friends which means this dude is completely terrifying that he managed to do it at all.

- He starts with planting rumors about you, using his magic when it should be restricted specifically to spite you, creating connections and climbing the tower, and calling in a few favors from the previous overblot victims (Leona and Riddle) so when you finally catch wind that he’s been backstabbing you, he’s already hiding.

- Ruggie and Leona don’t get involved but the tweels do, taking him out for some ~quality time~ that definitely didn’t make him have three asthma attacks and end up in the nurse’s office for a couple days.

- Genuinely has no idea that anyone is merfolk and nearly shits himself when you overblot after he stole not just his contract, but every other contract he could get his hands on (which was roughly 30-ish, he only has two arms)

- He’s surprisingly good at fighting? Like, yeah he fought the other overblots but he had backup and the tweels aren’t even there, they’re still on their way to help

- Your overblot ends with you both covered in bruises and a whole lot of crying and apologizing. 30 contracts weren’t really a big deal in the grand scheme of things but Azul was being a bitch so I guess fairs fair.

- Oho, remember the Scarabia arc though? Guess who helps out Azul when he’s kidnapped held captive by Jamil?

- Ding ding ding we have a winner it’s you and the tweels (who have adopted Azul as their emotional support human. Floyd has five million nicknames for him but none ever stick because Azul’s Azul.

- Anyway, when he shows up covered in grime and exhausted, with a stolen flying carpet, you ask zero questions and immediately hide him from the Scarabian students following him. They take back the flying carpet and you grill them on what’s going on, since he’s half passed out behind the bar while Floyd pretends he’s not there and Jade’s off getting some basic medical supplies, and eventually they leave.

- It’s pretty quick for you to realize that not only is he in pretty bad shape, but someone’s been messing with his mind because he is CONSTANTLY complaining about hot weather and would not go into Scarabia willingly (you’d know, he straight up refused to follow a contractee in there when he was working for you) so the fact he was there for what, three days straight? Something’s fishy and it isn’t you

- After dutifully nursing your poor, unfortunate soul back to health (in the span of like, two hours he was back to normal, just tired and sore. He ate like he was getting ready to hibernate though which just made everyone else so concerned) he’s finally ready to spill what happened.

- Your plan isn’t really different than OG Azul’s plan. Everyone in this group is on equal intellectual footing and you basically have two Azul’s in terms of scheming. Even if Azul is completely out of it and also can’t remember key details of the last few days for some reason it’s. It’s fine he’s fine.

- Floyd doesn’t trade his UM for a deep voice though. He trades it for not having to do dish duty for the next month. Not an important thing but just so you guys know.

- Most of the Scarabia arch stays the same after that, with the acceptation that Jamil only NOW begins to hate Azul, which was honestly his own dumbass fault for bringing this dude in there.

- Anyway Prefect Azul and Jade end up studying together because despite the fact that he could pull the “you should talk to Y/N” he actually finds himself fond of this little magicless human. He doesn’t even poison him when he has the chance! And Azul appreciates his cooking and his tea skills even if he’s not a huge fan of the mushroom thing.

- Floyd and Azul are…a duo. One with wildly varying magical prowess, the other with a good chunk of brain cells, both with the urge to make things harder for other people for their own amusement. Azul has nothing to lose by not masking so he and Floyd end up getting into mischief quite a bit. OG Azul would not approve.

- Azul also wears clothing more on the comfortable part. He’s working hard all the time, shouldn’t he be able to wear something more comfortable? Also he can’t afford the expensive clothes crowley doesn’t give him nearly enough pocket money-

- Azul is an excellent barista in your cafe and earns bank in tips when he works though. Maybe it’s cause he’s cute maybe it’s because his drinks are good who cares

- Overall, Prefect Azul is a lot more chaotic but just as smart as OG Azul which means he’s just as terrifying. He may not have magic but he does have two eels that adore him and You, his benevolent sometimes-boss-sometimes-enemy-usually-friend to look out for him

[phantomrose96]

Why Won't You Go Home

Disclaimer: I still don't go here.

...

It is exceptionally kind of Chat Noir to help with the search.

Maybe kind isn’t the right way for Marinette to think of it. Maybe it’s expected. Maybe it’s mundane. Maybe it’s rote, ordinary fanfare for a superhero of the city to lend his hand in a crisis. This search is just a normal superhero job for him. It isn’t personal to him like it is to her. She can feel it in the slow and stiff and disconnected way he picks through the rubble of the Agreste family mansion.

He looks up, and he catches her staring at him.

“M’lady?” he asks.

Marinette blinks. She’s short of breath. She shakes her head, and smooths her fingers over her black-dotted mask, and turns, and crouches to continue sifting through the scattered remains at her feet. “Nothing.”

“M’lady…”

She sweeps away a layer of ash—the pulverized remains of brick and stone and wood. Shards of dinner plates breathe in the open, blue-pattered rims chipped away. She lifts a piece, and it crumbles to ash in her numb and nicked hands, her fingers covered in bandaids from all the wanton cuts from glass she’d dug through so earnestly in the first three days after the collapse.

A hand falls heavy on her shoulders. She flinches. “M’lady…”

“It’s nothing, Chat.” She bats his hand off. “You take the eastern wing. I’ve got the kitchen.”

His presence remains beside her, heavy. “I went through the eastern wing this afternoon.” He crouches, attempting to force eye contact. “…And you’ve done the kitchen already.”

“I didn’t search hard enough.”

“You’ve searched enough.”

Marinette twists away from him. She dips her hands back into the rubble, silkenly demolished, grated down like fine beach sand so near the epicenter of the destruction.

Chat Noir’s hand grips hers, and he stills it.

“He’s not here,” Chat Noir says.

The jolt seizes Marinette by the throat. Tears she thought had long dried up well up unbidden. She blinks to clear her vision. She cannot speak through the knot in her throat, so she shakes her head, and pulls her hand away.

“His bedroom,” she answers, as the only words that can bubble out.

Chat shifts, until he is right in front of her, crouched to her level. “Carapace searched his bedroom already. Rena did. You did.” He grips her shoulder. “I did… He’s not there.”

“I’ll search again.”

“You need to go home.”

“There were 12 bedrooms in the mansion. Four floors. Dining and recreation rooms on every floor. A home theater. …Hawkmoth’s basement. We haven’t searched everything.”

“We have.”

“We haven’t.”

“You need to sleep.”

“I don’t.”

“Ladybug.” He takes her chin. “Look at me. Please just look at me.”

She has little choice. She’s staring into his green eyes, his tinged sclera. Chat’s brow is creased with worry, his eyes lined with exhaustion.

“I know you have a family, Ladybug. I know they have to be worried. Don’t do this to them. Don’t do this to yourself. You’ve done everything you can. There’s nothing more you can do.”

She pulls away from him.

“My family’s fine. I’m fine. What about you? Why don’t you just go back to your own family if you think they’re more important than Adrien?”

Chat’s tired eyes hold hers. His expression remains firm, blank, unwavering.

“Adrien’s gone, Ladybug.”

And it would have hurt less had he slapped her firmly across the face.

Marinette bounces to her feet, teetering unsteady, face flushed and eyes wet. She’s still blinking through tears, fists tight at her side, and it takes restraint to not try to deliver that pain back to Chat Noir. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t know him! You never met him! He was just some kid to you. You don’t care, do you? Maybe this was all some victory to you, huh? Hawkmoth is dead and his base is demolished and you just don’t care that Adrien was—”

“Clearly I do care. I’m still here. I’ve been here. I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t care.”

“You DON’T care. You search like you’re barely even trying to find him. You’ve given up! Everyone else has given up except me! You don’t get it!” Ladybug slams a hand to her chest, palm open, feet spread, and the words erupt from her throat. “I LOVED him. And I never told him! Don’t tell me he’s dead, Chat! Don’t tell me I couldn’t save him in time. Don’t tell me I couldn’t tell him in time, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t…” Marinette’s resolve wavers. Her body is fizzling with static, light and numb. She tilts, and slowly lowers herself back to a crouch before her balance can fail her fully. “…You can’t tell me he’s gone. He can’t be gone…”

There’s an agony that rips across Chat Noir’s face, one which he holds, and then stifles, and then buries, to the point that Marinette may have only imagined it in the first place. His stance goes looser. His eyes dip, until he’s staring down into the sand-fine rubble of the Agreste manor whose ash has coated him nearly fully gray.

“…I’m sorry, Ladybug…” he says, and he means it. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

Silence lingers on the wind between them. Every which way it blows, it smells of demolition.

“No I’m… I’m sorry for yelling,” Marinette mutters, face buried in her drawn-up knees. “I shouldn’t be yelling at you. You’re helping. …You’re the only one still helping. I’m so tired, and I’m so scared, and there’s no one else left helping.”

“You shouldn't blame the others for leaving. The search was called off a full day ago.”

“I don’t blame them.” Marinette lifts her head. “…But I just can’t leave.”

Chat pushes himself up from the ground, rising to full height from his crouch. He extends a hand for Marinette to take. “If you’ll go home, Ladybug, I’ll stay. He won’t be left alone if I’m staying here.”

Marinette blinks as Chat’s hand swims in and out of focus. She processes his words. “…Then what about you? If I leave, and you stay, then you’ll be alone…”

“Worry not, M’lady.”

“…And what about your family then?” She extends a shaky hand. Chat clasps it, and carefully, gently, he lifts her up. She’s eye to eye with him again, her vision darting from his one pupil to the other. He is the only pillar across acres of leveled land, decimated to nothing. “You haven’t left yet either, have you? You’ve been here just as long as me. You haven’t left. They must be worried about you.”

“No one in my family is worried about me, it’s fine.” His grip on her hand tightens. “My friends… are worried. But that’s because they’re good friends. They’ll be fine.”

“Chat…”

“I’m right, aren’t I? You haven’t been able to go home because you can’t leave him alone here… I’ll stay then. I’ll keep searching, I promise, as long as you promise me you’ll go home to your family for tonight, and shower, and eat, and sleep.”

"And you?"

"Hmm?"

"Why haven’t you left yet…?”

Chat lets out a simple chuckle, and he offers her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just worried about you, M’lady. It’s that simple.”

Marinette blinks, and rubs her eyes through the mask. The sensation of grit digs into her knuckles. It’s coated her entirely. She blinks again, and her vision, her balance, is still hazy. She’s just now feeling the weight pulling so heavily on her chest, and protests die in her throat. “…Okay. Okay then, Chat. …Thank you. Thank you, I’ll—I’ll go home, okay Chat.” She looks up. “But I need you to promise me something too.”

“Anything.”

“When I get back, then you’ll go home and rest.”

Chat’s smile lingers, the dead and plastic one. His worn eyes hold hers, and Marinette realizes for the first time since the search began that there’s something uncomfortable nested deep in them, something staring at her like she’s the last thing holding him together.

“…Chat?” Marinette asks again.

“Hmm?”

“When I’m back, you’ll go home.”

He reaches a hand out, and he ruffles her hair. “You’re very tired. M’lady has been awake for far too long. The sun’s setting now. You should get going.”

“Chat.”

“I’ll only need a quick cat nap, M’lady, once you get back. I needn’t go anywhere.”

“That’s… no, Chat.” Marinette shakes her head. She pushes his hand away. “You also need to shower, and eat, and sleep, and see your family and friends, Chat. Promise me you’ll do that. Promise me that’ll happen once I’m back tomorrow.”

She’s staring deep into his eyes, watching that restrained and uncomfortable something bloom closer to the surface. She’s staring into glassy pools that are slipping harder to recognize, and Chat’s plastic smile remains on a face so absent. His eyes refuse to see her no matter how directly she stares into them.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Bugaboo.”

“Chat.”

“Please.”

“Chat.”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

“Chat—” She grabs his shoulder, and pulls him a fraction closer, in hopes that his glassy eyes might finally see her back.

“Yes, M’lady?”

“Why won’t you go home?”

He is covered in ash and soot. His face is uniformly streaked with dust, and it mangles into his hair, soaked four days deep. And his four days sleepless eyes stare through her. He hitches his plastic smile higher until the corners of his mouth waver. He opens his mouth to say something, to say something, to say something.

“Sure then. Tomorrow. As soon as you’re back. I’ll go home. I promise to give my pillows a good few extra fluffs for you.”

And his face is unrecognizable by the time the words leave his mouth.

Marinette tugs him closer, until he is pressed against her. She wraps her arms around him and squeezes. Hesitantly, he returns the hug, with a force that presses the air from Marinette’s lungs, until he clings to her like she were the last thread holding him up above a chasm.

Then all at once, he releases her.

“Go. Go, Ladybug. Go home.”

She breathes deep, and her ribcage stutters. She nods.

“Tomorrow. Early. I’ll be back. Then it’s your turn.”

“Naturally. In the meantime, I’ll check the bedroom again, alright? I promise to leave nothing unturned.”

She backs away, and turns, and lingers. And somehow, even with the way her body stutters and stalls, she’s still gone faster than Chat realizes. He’s left alone with the setting sun tinging all the leveled debris orange. He exhales, shudders, and wills himself to not breakdown on spot. Not until he’s sure Ladybug is far away.

He moves, as promised, to the bedroom, taking the phantom trace of demolished hallways and doors out of habit. He stands at the center, and shifts ash with his toe, and silence falls around him like a blanket.

He sets his hands to the air, clasped around a pocket of nothing. He bounces his palms closer, once, twice, fluffing the air, and fluffing it again, so as not to break his promise.

[thefanficmonster]

Things Unsaid

Sidney Prescott x Reader (Female) [Scream 2022]

Warnings: SPOILERS for the fifth Scream movie (2022), Injury, Blood, Death (mentioned), Swearing

Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: What if instead of Judy, Ghostface stabs a deputy that arrives there before her. Deputy L/N.

Requested by @daydreamsofbee Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request and I’m sorry it took me so long to write your fic - I was stalling to watch the movie because I had Dewey’s death spoiled for me 😭 - but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey Dewey! What can I do for you?“ This has become a regular thing between the long time friends.

Ever since Dewey’s retirement, Y/N has been his main source of police work news. Cases they’re working on, suspects they’re questioning, criminals that have been caught, etc. Dewey has been of great help to investigations as well, no that Y/N’s ever disclosed him as her secret helper but their dynamic works well.

“Hey there, Deputy. I need you to keep an eye on this new Nancy Drew in town. Billy Loomis’ daughter, Samantha Carpenter and her boyfriend....“

“Richie Kirsch.“ She finishes his sentence for him, “How do you know about them anyway?“

“They stopped by my place earlier. Ghostface strikes again and you don’t tell me? That’s real nice of you, Y/N.“ He mutters bitterly, earning himself an eye-roll from the woman.

“I didn’t want to freak you out! You’ve dealt with this shit enough already.“ She argues, pinching the bridge of her nose.

That’s really the truth, she didn’t want this reaching Dewey or Sidney or Gale. Of course, she couldn’t prevent the news reporter from catching wind of it but Dewey was a more difficult task. 

“You’ve been dealing with it for just as long as I have!“ That’s true too.

Y/N has been on the target list since the days of Billy Loomis and Stu Macher and who’s to say she’s been taken off it now. She can never seem to catch a break: from Stu using her as bait by kindling a close friendship with her, to Mickey who she even dated at one point to Roman who she became friends with and even slept with a couple of times. She’s never been far from the killer, always mere minutes from receiving a blade through the back if the killer wanted that. She thanks her lucky stars for making it this far with a pulse.

“As a retired Sherriff, you’re allowed to catch a break from the chaos, Dewey. On the other hand, it’s my duty to help stop this asshole.“ She counters his point with her own before battling the pit in her stomach to finally bring herself to ask the question that’s looming in the cop car with her ever since she exchanged the first line of conversation with him. “Did you tell Sidney?“

“Yes.“ The answer causes her to squeeze her eyes shut. This is the one thing she was praying wouldn’t happen and yet.... “But don’t worry, she’s not coming back here....ever. She’s safe.“

Hearing that evokes a bittersweet feeling in the Deputy. On one hand she’s happy to hear that her friend is safe and won’t be getting sucked into the chaos anytime soon or, as Dewey said, ever. But on the other....that means she’ll never see Sidney again and that seriously stings. Makes her regret all the times she could’ve come clean about her feelings but ended up being too much of a coward instead.

“ Ok, that’s great....“ She’s found herself unable to find a proper reply but, just her luck, the police radio goes off, Sherriff Hicks asking for backup to her house immediately. “Gotta go, Dewey!” She says quickly, hanging up the call and stepping on the gas.

Checking the GPS, she sees that she’s only mere five minutes away from the location but with the way she’s speeding, she’ll make it there in three, probably the first to make it there entirely. Regardless, with the panic in Judy’s voice, Y/N can’t step on that gas enough. She can only guess Wes is the one in danger and for that this car cannot go fast enough. Y/N’s hand tightly grip the steering wheel, making intents in the leather.

If that fucker lays a finger on Wes....

The car comes to a halting stop by the curb in front of the Hicks home. Gun drawn, Deputy L/N jumps out of the car, carefully but quickly approaching the house.

Unfortunately, not carefully enough.

A blade has breached her skin and flesh right below the hem of her bulletproof vest before she’s even been able to register the masked figure standing in front of her.

“Y/N L/N.“ The grumbled voice says with an infuriating snark to the tone, “Must say, I’m a big fan.“

With that the knife is retracted from Y/N’s abdomen just for it to be stabbed into her three more times.

Y/N’s vision goes black, all her muscles screaming in unison at the pain as her body falls limp into the pool of blood forming beneath her on the pavement.

*  *  *  *  *

"Sidney." The name falls from Gale's lips in a mix of surprise and content, both caused by the sight of the woman standing in front of her in the hospital lobby.

She gets up from her seat, giving the newcomer a hug.

"I came as soon as I heard. I'm so sorry." Sidney replies, the hurt evident in her voice as she wraps her arms around Gale who can no longer hold back her sobs.

One would say she should have gotten used to seeing people drop like flies but that could not be more false. Sidney knows that best.

"You shouldn't be here." The older woman says as the two pull away, looking into each other's eyes, seeing their hurt looking right back at them.

"You shouldn't either." Sidney replies, earning her a small sigh from Gale.

"I know, and I don't plan on sticking around. God knows I'd be on the first flight home after the...funeral, but I can't leave while Y/N's still in the state she's in." She explains, the pain in her chest unwavering.

However, the name she dropped seems to knock Sidney out of balance for a moment as she comprehends everything, "Wait, Y/N as in Y/N L/N?"

"Deputy L/N herself indeed." Gale nods, confirming Sidney's worries.

All this time she's been away from Y/N she's never stopped wondering how she's been holding up, what she has been up to. And yet, not a single one of those times was she able to pick up the phone and give her used-to-be best friend a call. Not even once and especially not after she married Mark. When her daughters were born she was the first person she wanted to call after leaving the hospital and tell her the good news. She was the first person she wanted to call after her divorce a few months ago, seek comfort. But alas she didn't.

Why? Now that she cannot answer. Or rather, she's afraid to.

"What happened to her?" The tightness in her chest increases in the two seconds it takes Gale to reply to her question.

"Ghostface got a bit too stab-friendly, was aiming to turn her insides into outsides but luckily Sherriff Hicks arrived at the scene on time. She's in one piece again but high on painkillers constantly, asleep 24/7. I don't know what to say...but she isn't doing well, that's all I know."

Sidney's heart sinks.

"C-Can I see her?" She stutters out, her words breaking up as they stumble out of her sore, dry throat.

"Room 103 in the ICU." And Sid is off, " Oh, and tell Louisa to get her ass here immediately so I can drive her to school or I'll go get her myself!" Gale shouts after her, her words not exactly reaching her through the fog in her brain which now is working solely on navigating her to Y/N's room.

The scavenger hunt ends once she finds herself in front of a door with the number 103 on it. It's safe to say she barges in so quickly she almost takes the door off its hinges. And most definitely startles the shit out of the girl sitting in the chair by the hospital bed.

Panic is evident in her eyes until a spark of recognition flashes in them. She gets up from her seat and motions for Sidney to follow her back out into the hallway.

"You're Sidney Prescott." She declares in a hushed tone the woman was expecting to be accusatory but wasn't. It was more amazed than anything.

"Y-Yes." Sid stutters as she tries reading the girl's expression but failing to do so because of how numb and emotionless her features are. She sees a lot of herself in her, a lot of the reflection she saw in the mirror after her mom died.

"Mom has told me a lot about you. All good things, don't worry." She gives a faint smile, "Oh, sorry, I'm Louisa, by the way, her daughter."

"Nice to meet you, I'm sorry it's under these circumstances though." The older woman says, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "And I'm sorry you have to go through this. You're just a kid....you don't deserve any of these."

Louisa shakes her head, "Neither did my mom. She was actually a year younger than I am now when she first had to deal with murderous freaks. You didn't deserve it either. You were both just kids....but it seems like it's all coming back around full circle."

"Hey." Sidney takes hold of the girl's other shoulder as well, "We'll break this fucking pattern, ok? Once and for all."

The teenager nods before a sob wracks her body, "I just want mom to wake up. I want her to come home, hug me and Michael and tell us that it'll all be alright."

Sid pulls her in for a hug which she gladly accepts, "Is Michael your brother?" She feels the girl nod against her shoulder, "How old is he?"

"Seven." She weakly replies.

"Does he know?" The girl shakes her head, "Good." She pulls away from the hug to look Louisa in the eyes, "He'll never have to know. You'll neve have to explain why mom won't be coming home cause she'll come home, ok? She'll wake up and she'll be back to being the bossy pushover she can sometimes be. She's a walking, talking boulder." This gets a laugh out of the crying girl, "And I see you've inherited that from her. So, wipe those tears away and go give Michael a big hug, don't let him miss Y/N. Missing a mother is the most painful feeling ever."

Louisa nods again, following Sidney's instructions as she straightens he posture and dries her cheeks, "Thank you." She whispers with a faint smile that somehow manages to grace her features.

She's got the same smile as Y/N, Sidney thinks to herself.

Just then, a voice booms through the hallway, "Louisa!"

It's Gale.

"Right.." Unlike the confused Sidney, Louisa knows exactly what's going on, "I have to get to school."

With that the two exchange goodbyes and depart, leaving Sidney to have to face the task of walking back into that hospital room again.

After a brief sigh and a sharp inhale she makes her way inside. But things are different this time.

For example, Y/N's eyes are open.

"Thought I recognized that voice...." The Deputy chuckles, "Wait, it's really you, right? I don't know what to believe anymore...these pills are killing my perception."

Sidney's emotional disbalance counters Y/N's casual and calm tone. She squats down by the bed, taking the patient's hand in hers, "Oh God, Y/N, it's me. From head to toe, the Angel of Death herself."

The other woman giggles, "Don't call yourself that. And what brings you here, anyway? Thought you'd never step foot here again."

That's when it hits Sidney - She doesn't know.

She contemplates telling her, really not looking forward to being the one to break the awful news to her but postponing the inevitable is also not at all gonna help the situation. It's only gonna hurt more and she's well aware of that.

So she takes the painful alternative...

"I came as soon as I heard....Dewey was killed.....I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry...." She stumbles over her words before trailing off, tears prickling her eyes so she chooses to squeeze them shut.

A tear slips out of Y/N's.

"Oh, God, why did he have to involve himself?! I knew it was a bad idea! Why wasn't I there to protect him?! What kind of fucking friend am I?! Why him?! Why am I alive and he's not?!" The woman sobs, for the first time since she woke up wishing that she really was dead.

"Shh, shh..." With tears of her own staining her shirt, Sidney hugs the guilt-ridden, dread-filled woman, "He'd hate for you to be keeping him company right now. He'd much rather have you here to avenge him. Please, Y/N, for me, for Gale and for Dewey but most importantly for your kids, please, don't crumble. Don't lose yourself, cause the you I know will pick herself up and kick ass like nothing ever happened."

But many things have happened and all of them have slowly been piling up. Starting that night at Stu's house up until this very point. She's cheated death too many times, almost always at the hands of the people she trusted so much. Stu betrayed her, she didn't care. The man she was starting to fall in love with ended up being a serial killer, an utter psychopath. It broke her, but no one noticed. Getting betrayed by Roman felt like a hit a spot where pain receptors no longer work. Like a punch to a brick wall. She had grown numb. Numb to pain and sadness only.

The last two times she's felt great pain like this is when she lost Sidney and the other when she lost her fiancée to a drunk driver a year ago.

It's safe to say this woman hasn't cried nearly as enough as she's wanted and needed to throughout the years.

"I will. I promise I will." She sniffles, "But for now I just want to let it all out."

"I'll be here while you do so." Sidney squeezes her hand tighter, a seal to the promise that she won't be leaving her side anytime soon.

* * * * *

"Mama loves you, Mikey. See you soon, baby. Bye." Sidney catches the last part of Y/N's phone call from outside her room door.

It's nice to see her being able to stay conscious for longer periods of time. She's still in the ICU though, so nothing is to be said for certain about the future. Sidney and Y/N both are just happy for the current moments they have.

"You're a wonderful mother, Y/N. I always knew you would be." She tells the Deputy as she waltzes her way in.

She chuckles in response, "Remember that I swore up and down I'd never have kids? Look at me now. Thought I'd stay a party girl forever."

"I think you got it all out of your system in high school and college." Sidney laughs as she settles in the chair by Y/N's bed. "Remember our first high school party?"

The other woman gasps, "How could I not?! I was ready to murder those two girls, they were being so annoying. That was my first official fight."

"And you would've gotten your ass kicked if I didn't get us out of there." Sid comments, making Y/N laugh.

"Fair enough....I felt so bad for cutting our night short. But at least we got to rewatch Breakfast at Tiffany's again at your place."

The brunette shrugs, "I didn't mind at all. I always would've preferred a quite night in with you than going out to party."

A moment of silence falls over the two, the air thickening with memories they've both been grasping onto as to not let them be shadowed by all the bad that laced their youth.

"How's Kincaid?" Y/N is the one to put an end to the reminiscing quiet.

"You don't care." Sidney replies but through a small laugh which is surprising to say the least.

She's not wrong, though - Y/N really doesn't care. She didn't really care or like Billy, or Derek...you see the pattern here?

"Ok, how are the kids then?" She retorts with a playful eye roll.

This question she does get an answer to, "They're doing well. I just hope this co-parenting thing and the divorce won't affect them badly. Mark and I are doing out best to not let them sense a difference but I'm still worried."

"Communicate it properly to them, make sure they understand that it's not their fault. Make sure to assure and reassure them every chance you get that you love them and will never stop loving them, both you and Kincaid. I know how hard it must be to explain that to kids with a single digit age, but maybe that'll give you an advantage."

"What about you and...whoever the lucky man is?" The woman nudges her friend's leg.

Y/N sighs, "He isn't lucky at all. I just hope he runs into Dewey up in heaven so they can keep each other company."

Sidney squeezes Y/N's hand in a comforting gesture, choosing not to say anything, knowing the Y/H/C will understand her regardless.

"You know, sometimes I wonder how different things would've been if I wasn't a coward. How many lives could be saved. I mean, Bronson would probably still be alive right now if he never met me, if we didn't start dating etc. He wouldn't have even been in Woodsboro. But then again I wouldn't have Michael and Louisa in my life so it's a bittersweet reflection." Y/N finally finds it in her to sat what's been bothering you for what feels like forever now. It's not far off the mark though - it's been a decade of her holding back everything, not to mention that it started even way before that.

"You're not a coward, Y/N. You've never been. You may see yourself that way but I hope you know nobody agrees with you. Not a single soul. I owe you my life. I've indebted it to you several times." Sidney runs her thumb over her friend's bruised knuckles, a pit forming in her stomach at the thought of all the lost time between them. How things would have been different if she wasn't a coward.

"Just because I'm courageous in one department doesn't mean I am that way in all aspects of my life. I've never been able to go after what I want or who I want. I've never been able to stay true to myself or anyone really. I wish I told you all I wished would just come out of me unexpectedly. I wish I said something instead of waiting and hoping you'd read my mind." Y/N runs her hands through her hair, avoiding Sidney's gaze the whole time before her palms cover her face as a protective gesture that's become a habit when she can't run from or fix a certain awkward or uncomfortable situation.

"What are you saying, Y/N?" The brunette, while with a good guess on her hands, doesn't want to go out on a limb here.

"I'm saying that, since day one I've been constantly in love with you, Sid. Constantly. Never once did that change. I've always loved you, but I've been in love with you too this whole time. And I'm sorry you're hearing this under these circumstances and in this messed up period of your life, but I don't know if I'll ever make it out of this ICU so I better tell you, you know? Before the coward me kicks in and shuts me up." She sighs heavily, her hands still covering her eyes, "Feel free to walk out on me if you'd like, I'll fucking deserve it. Don't worry, I won't take it personally, just....don't say anything, ok?"

Sidney really sticks to that - she doesn't say anything. Not when she leans forward, not when she removes Y/N's hands off her face and most definitely not when her lips collide with hers.

There's a whirlwind of emotions within the the both of them at the moment, there always has been but it's now come to a boiling point, a culmination neither of them could've predicted - especially wouldn't have guessed it would happen in their forties. Never would've thought they'd wait so long to say it. Who's to say they ever would've said it at all. They're both a little cowardly in this very aspect, both having held onto something for so long it's become an aching part of them. Letting it go now out in the open feels practically unreal.

The kiss is brief, hesitant and too instant for Y/N to even process it properly before her eyes meet Sidney's again.

"I'm never walking out on you again, Y/N. I promise you. I'm never walking out on you again. I've made that mistake too many times in the past and I don't plan on repeating it." Sidney's hands replace the hold Y/N's had on her face, but her touch is more gentle, cupping her cheeks. It's not meant to protect her per se, it's more to pull her in, to reassure her of her safety in her arms. Promise her that she'll always be safe in her arms. "I-I've never been the best at...feelings? And that hasn't changed even now. But you've been patient with me thus far, God bless your heart, I'm asking you to wait on me just a little longer. I love you too much to lose you and I'm too in love with you to leap in a relationship without pulling my act together and risk hurting you in the process. Can you do that? Wait for me just a bit longer?"

A smile lights up Y/N's face like Sidney last remembers seeing back in the early days of college - before Mickey and Roman, before Derek and Kincaid. She remembers it all too well and is so glad to see it hasn't been snuffed out of Y/N completely throughout the years. They're both holding onto a small piece of themselves it seems they've only reserved for each other.

"I'll wait for you, Sid, I've spent my whole life waiting for a miracle and now....what's just a bit more time compared to a quarter decade? I can hold your hand throughout it all or remain at a six feet distance, whatever you want or need." Y/N nods eagerly, her forehead resting against Sidney's.

"Let's start with getting you out of the ICU first. And then you gotta promise me you won't be pulling dangerous stunts like this. Understood?"

"A Deputy's word, ma'am."

There's a lot still ahead of them they'll need to yet deal with but there's a lot of stuff they've left behind which they'll now have to uncover and dust off to be able to move forward. There's plenty they left unsaid and things they wish they did but never had the courage to. Plus there's ten years worth of catching up for them to do. These two never can seem to catch a break.

But for now, they aren't gonna busy their minds with that. Instead, they're perfectly content reconnecting that kiss from a few moments ago, but making it last longer this time.

[muffindaddystyles]

Keep holding my hand.

Harry was in an emotionally abusive relationship before y/n, something happens that makes his insecurities float back.

Impetuous reel of dithery thoughts rapidly bustles on the wall, Harry stares at it blankly – he stares and stares and stares ..... yet it does nothing for what he wishes.

His stomach fills with acid and his mouth burns with foulness with each painful beat his heart gives realizing maybe this's the end ---- he doesn’t spare a glance to the dinner wafting off he cooked with much happiness looking forward to tonight.

Where did I went wrong?

Did I hurt her in any way? What if she didn’t like me popping up at her studio that day to remind her of tonight

Well Keat didn’t like it ..... She used to hate it Infact,

No! She’s not like keat —--

But, then why isn’t she picking your phone? She knew, promised and she still didn’t came tonight?

What if she’s sick? Fuck, then I should go to her.

He shuts his screaming conscience down, shoving the heels of his palm against his pop-sockets wearily to make him feel something --- to escape the hurt that’s looming around him, crushing and squeezing him to death.

He blows off the candles, melted to their base from being sorrowfully lit from three hours atleast --- mocking him and his sincerity.

You deserve this.

Why did y’think ye' deserved anybody’s love?

She doesn’t love you anymore --- just like keat....

The corners of his glossy eyes prickles with pearly tears and it drops down his clavicles, with blurry vision he dials her one last time and it goes straight to her voicemail alike past three hours.

Hiya, Y/N here! Leave a message ‘cos I mighty be busy or maybe lazyin' round the farthest corner of my home .......

He tosses and turns, does it manifold times --- his sleep betrays him too and he’s angry soaring with venom, if he could scream from a cliff and throw stones down the pound furiously he'd instead his eyes runs droopy.

His shuddering breath sulks to tranquillity, all he could hear’s a screech of wind that’s hitting the window and his guts.

His body jerks at the chirp of voice he’s oh so familiar with —- other days he'd be submerging in the honeyness of it but at the moment he bites down his wrist to keep him wrenching his empty stomach out.

“Happy anniversary, bub!” His brows clinches down into a grumblish frown and he presses his hand between his thighs turning his back upon hearing the careful steps treading in.

The creaking stalls and she stands at his doorway with heavy heart, her throat —-- uff her throat feels like as if someone punched it several times.

Not letting her tongue to utter any word —- anything that’d assure him and her, everything’s alright --- it’s not a big deal.

Ofcourse, it is!

Little things matters most to him – told you —- he .. — he told you himself and you hurt him, you hurt him just because you couldn’t stand to your boss.

She wanted it to be perfect for him, for them — winded up the work her boss hoarded on her mercilessly last minute demanding her to wrap it up in an hour --- felt giddy and motivated to do it speedily looking forward to their celebration. Bought his favourite chocolate moose cake standing in the line of his favourite bakery, since he doesn’t like any other flavour.

She stands at the side bed looking down at him, heartbreaking in million pieces seeing him torn, all teary cheeks and this stoic for the first time they’ve been dating.

“’M sorry -- I –- my boss trapped me and – ‘n I really wanted to call you —-- then it took me forever at your favourite bakery, I’m so sorry baby.” She rambles nebbish-ly and catches onto his shoulder when he tries to face away from her.

He mutters, “Forget bout it. Go back home ‘s getting late.” Though, his heart lurches forward to embrace her and shower her in kisses telling her “it’s totally fine.” And that “how bout we celebrate now,” but being an emotionally sensitive person has it's very cons and one of it is requiring space and time to recover for better thinking.

His eyes slips into abyss and he holds back a sniffle when he feels the mattress dip behind him, she sighs, coos in the softest voice she only keeps it for her lover, “Oh baby .... you’re my home.” She's well aware of the anxiety he goes through. He feels like everything crumbling but she's there to catch him and she rubs his back.

The many many reassurances he needs from his lovie to keep going for them, the praises for him for treating her like the most precious daffodil —- because he never got praised before; even though how much of the world’s luxuries he'd lay at his ex's feet was never assured that how much she loves him (because she never did).

Y/N would never want his insecurities to float back and sting his scars, she'd never want him to ever go through from what he did in past —-- to be used like a toy and manipulated, might sound weird and whumpy of her but she’d kill many dragons to keep him protected at any cost.

He sleeps with her body cocooning him from behind and his erratic breath syncs to her calm ones.

..

His dreams full of suffering, void and darkness violently clashing and swirling against eachother as the ugly creature takes Y/N away from him, leaving him in prison of his own pathetic head.

Fear of loss —- he fears loosing her and does it make him toxic? He was snubbed so many times – being told his behaviour was toxic that he’d hesitate before doing anything precisely very fondly caring —- but then Y/N came in his life and she'd tell him how much she appreciates him, how he’s like the best sundae in hot summer and he felt like she’s the sunshine he was waiting for in the never-ending rainy days.

Y/N stirs from her light sleep on hearing the broken whimpers, the valley of her chest moist as he cries into her and she cups his cheeks gazing down at him concerned, “What happened sunny .... baby talk to me ...” Her voice groggy and on verge of tearing.

She sits back a little with him still between her legs and wipes his tears away gently, “I’m so sorry ...” He mumbles –-- eyes bloodshot and she shakes her head pulling him closer, if she’d be able to cradle him in his lap she'd but apparently he’s too big.

Queasy hiccups, “f – fo'--... d —- dou...” sad sniffles and hiccups that tightens his chest.

She tenders his wobbly lip kissing his temple, “shhh. shhh, puppy I should be the one apologising yeah?”

“no .. I didn’t gave another thought before doubting --- that –-- that you’re about to leave, no person in right mind does this – I —-,” His body trembles with blue sobs.

“Harry ...” she tries to gain his attention and when he still doesn’t listen, “I know I don’t deserve y'n – ‘n maybe you don’t want me anymore —--” she raises it a bit, “Harry!” he falls quiet --- nibbling the corner of his cheek to hold back hiccups.

“Look at me puppy, yeah? Shh hold my hand and take a breather.” She smiles. Takes his sweaty hand and aligns his palm to her mouth for a deep kiss – then squeezes it.

“Keep holding it baby, keep holding my hand, you’re going to be fine --- we – see us here,” she points between them with gleamy eyes and he nods timidly wiping his nose with his sweater paw, “we are fine baby –- we are okay..”

How could someone be this dreamy? This gentle and sweet? What did I do to deserve my lovie?

“Better?” She inquires. Little worried that he'll fall back into rabbit hole and tucks his head under her chin, keeping him warm against her chest and he clutches the hem of her shirt nuzzling into her.

“Did you really think, I’d leave you and that on our first year anniversary? Sorry to tell you .... ‘m stitched to your hip for life time, there’s no exchange policy puppy how much you grump.”

She grins. Happy to earn a feeble chuckle from him and scratches his head, looping his curls around her fingers.

“I love you.” She startles when he speaks hoarsely after the longest time and it’s not like he's saying it for the first –-- but it still doesn’t fail to engulf her in warmth, so much of it.

“I love you too, you’re my only puppy and very loved one.” His eyes crinkles prettily at that and she kisses the tip of his nose.

“You want to rest? We could eat the dinner you dearly made for me and oh we got moose cake in fridge too, what a coincidence!” She giggles. The room fills with wet treacly noises of smoochy kisses she’s patching on his cheeks and his jaw.

Without a word he holds her finger and leads her to kitchen, she creates proud noises of “ooh!” and “ahh!” trying to sneak a glimpse from over his shoulder but he'd shoo her away as he heats the food; she gets out gorgeous smiles from him she cherishes so much.

“You did all of this for me?” She gasps sweetly, hand over heart to accentuate the love she's feeling and walks towards him when he nods timidly rubbing his socks feetsies one over the other.

His cheeks blazes peach and she giggles pinching them, “You’re so cute aren’t you?”

“Okay then. Let’s eat!” she claps her hands together and pecks his lips before pulling her chair beside him rather than opposite to him and his heart flutters at that --- each pore oozing with deep love for her and every insecurity and anxious ideas completely drains out of him when she pats his seat and wiggles in her own --- anticipated to taste what he made.

“Hmm. This tastes so good, H! Your hands are really magical, huh?” She passes him a smirk pecking each of his knuckle to make him feel better about himself and his lips quirks up softly, “Thank you – d’ya w'na umm eat the moose here o'in bed?” Her face beams at that, him speaking more than two words and looking forward to spend the night with her.

“On bed, please –-- would you like tea? Think ‘m running out of if —- proper jello ....” She cleans the table and raises her brows when he gazes her adorningly as she’s the nymphs of stary oceans.

He shakes his head, nose twitchy as she nudges him teasingly and he takes her off-guard --- hugging her by waist and kisses her soft tummy.

“Nothing just love you bleedin’ much.”

..

[kpostedsum]

daddy issues; D.M

summary: you and draco bond over issues in 6th year

word count: 2.4k

warnings: err angst, comfort, illusions to sex

song: daddy issues (the remix) - the neighbourhood

a/n: i tried not to make it stereotypical bc i didn’t wanna make it seem all “i like older men lol”, probably my fav fic i’ve written, also arent these anime gifs so cute

masterlist | taglist

Take you like a drug

I taste you on my tongue

Tongues battling for dominance, bodies rubbing against each other searching for a feeling. It’s become routine now, a different person in your dorm swallowing a new pill, entangling limbs with someone just to feel something.

You ask me what I'm thinking about

I tell you that I'm thinking about

Whatever you're thinking about

Tell me something that I'll forget

And you might have to tell me again

It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

It was a constant cycle, putting yourself out there seeking the male attention you crave, seeking validation, constant reassurance and trusting too easily. That’s how you ended up with a different guy who always in the end leaves. You trusted too easily and people took advantage of how trusting and naive you are just for a quick shag.

You wished it wasn’t like this but that’s all you knew, wanting to be the best version of yourself for someone just to feel needed, no matter if the person was good or bad for you. You didn’t care, you wanted love from anyone you could get it from even if it just hurt you more.

You’re familiar with the absence, something stable made you feel a bit wary. It wasn’t something you were used to. Your father wasn’t the most present in your life, and even though he's there, he's never really there.

Go ahead and cry, little girl

Nobody does it like you do

I know how much it matters to you

I know that you got daddy issues

And if you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

I'd run away and hide with you

I love that she's got daddy issues, and I do too

You always wondered where you went wrong, he preferred your siblings over you and doesn't pay you a piece of his mind. Constantly going out of your way to get his attention whether it was academically or acting a certain way just to get some sort of reaction. But he was too preoccupied with his other children, even if they were from your mom or his affairs.

That’s how you found yourself right now sitting in the astronomy tower past curfew watching the rain fall, trying to clear your head while humming softly to yourself to keep yourself distracted.

You hear distant chattering from below and quickly get up from where you were sitting and make your way to your dorm unnoticed by anyone.

Except one person, Draco Malfoy.

I tried to write your name in the rain

But the rain never came

So I made with the sun

The shade

Always comes at the worst time

He’s seen you before, you’re known around Hogwarts for how you put yourself out there and how ‘desperate’ you are for some affection. He almost feels bad for you, but he’s in no place to judge. With his dad in Azkaban Draco had so much more to worry about, like his task and how he can succeed. But there was something about you that intrigued him that he couldn't ignore.

He saw you again in transfiguration the next day and noticed a few hickeys littering your neck that you had tried to cover but it didn’t work. He wondered why you gave yourself up to so many people, but once again he was in no place to judge. He noticed the way your tongue would stick out when you focused extra hard, the way your hands would tighten around your quill when you got a question wrong and your face.

The same face that many boys including the older years would fawn over, the face that entranced and attracted many, the face of someone who would do anything for someone for some affection and the face of someone who seeked out all the wrong things.

You ask me what I'm thinking about

I tell you that I'm thinking about

Whatever you're thinking about

Tell me something that I'll forget

And you might have to tell me again

It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

You walk out of transfiguration on your way to the owlery to send a letter to your parents and feel eyes watching you everywhere. You like it, the attention, it’s something that you thrived in, but you couldn’t help but feel a new set of eyes on you.

Once you reached the owlery you realized you weren't the only one there, Draco Malfoy was also there sending a letter to who you assumed was his mother.

“y/n, right?” he asked, trying to spark a conversation.

“Yea, listen i’m sorry about what happened with your father i know you really looked up--”

“Dont worry about it, he wasn’t as good an influence as I made him out to be,” he sighed, looking away.

“My dad isn’t the best either if i’m being honest, i guess we’re in the same boat” you let out a light chuckle.

And that’s how you found yourself hanging out with draco malfoy bonding over your shared issues.

Go ahead and cry, little girl

Nobody does it like you do

I know how much it matters to you

I know that you got daddy issues

And if you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

I'd run away and hide with you

I love that she's got daddy issues

It’s been weeks since you two started hanging out since the interaction in the owlery and have been getting closer ever since. You both sat down together in the astronomy tower, backed against the wall as the cool wind blew against your faces. The aura between you two was calm, a comfortable silence.

“So tell me about your dad, how is it with him in Azkaban?” you asked, tilting your head towards him.

“Mother’s not taking it well” he frowned. “I can’t even say potter’s wrong for getting him locked up because he deserves it. All my life he praised the dark lord and taught me to be selfish and always defend my blood, but he was never there for me when I needed him. I would have done everything just to hear ‘i’m proud of you’ but it never came. It’s worse now because mother’s all alone. I wish I could have stayed with her” he sighed looking out the tower watching the stars twinkle.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been much quieter this year as well, you stopped making fun of people. It’s not that nice on the receiving end huh?” you said with a teasing look on your face.

He shook his head at you scooting closer to you, it’s like the demeanor between you two have changed over the past few weeks. You found yourself pining over him rather than being in someone's bed. But this is how the cycle always goes, you get attached and they leave, you couldn’t help but hope this wasn’t the situation this time.

“Tell me about your father”

Daddy stuck around but he wasn't present

Cheated on your mom but she never left him

First I didn't get it, now I understand

He broke her heart, left money in her hand

So everything got paid for

She made sure you and your brother had way more

Than she ever had growing up

And when you told me the whole story I felt like throwing up

“ I don't know if i’d even call him my father at this point, he doesn't want me.” you sighed. “He's been cheating on my mum for years now and she still won't leave him because she thinks they can work it out. He’s had affairs with different pureblood women and has children with them. But what hurts the most is how he treats them as his own children and treats me as if I don't exist” you said, looking down as tears pooled your eyes.

Draco moved closer to you and brought his arm around your shoulders for a sense of comfort and waited for you to catch your breath so you can continue.

“I just want him to love me” you cried. “I go out my way to try and get his attention with my school work but it never works. That's why I get along with so many guys. I seek the validation, the comfort and the reassurance that I can get from him from others and I am so tired of it. I just want him to want me draco.” tears slipping out your eyes as you looked up at him, you’ve never confessed this to anyone before.

“Everyone always leaves, please don't leave me” you cried

“I’m not going anywhere” he turned his face towards you, leaning forward cautiously as if you were made of glass.

You leaned forward, wanting the exact same thing. Both very hesitant he gently pressed his soft lips against yours and they moved together in sequence, only taking a break to go back to his dorm and to breathe, limbs tangled together for the rest of the night until the sun rose.

I can see it on your face it was rough left a bad taste on your tongue

And she didn't even take any drug

She would rain all day

Couldn't wait for her son to shine

And you made it shine

There when she cried, you saved her life

It's been a week since that night in the astronomy tower and draco had already been avoiding you. It’s humiliating, but you should have known. You thought the ‘bond’ you had with him would last, it felt so genuine this time. So real.

You’d see him around the halls snogging pansy on your way back to the ravenclaw tower, lowering your head down so he wouldn’t be able to see you so you could get by quickly and unnoticed.

But he saw you.

He stared you right down in your teary eyes as he made out with pansy. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal, for someone who promised he wouldn’t leave you like everyone else, he did the exact same.

You did the only thing you knew of, you ran.

I keep on trying to let you go

I'm dying to let you know

How I'm getting on

I didn't cry when you left at first

But now that you're dead it hurts

This time I gotta know

Where did my daddy go?

I'm not entirely here

Half of me has disappeared

Draco followed you to the girls lavatory, hearing your shallow cries coming from one of the stalls. He approached the stall you were in trying not to make too much noise so he doesn't startle you.

He felt awful.

He promised he would never leave you, after you both poured your hearts out to each other but he still left. He had too, he was putting you in danger just by being with him. If Voldemort ever found out about you and hurt you he wouldn't be able to live with himself, that's why he took it upon himself to hurt you first.

“y/n are you in here?” he called out even though he knew the answer.

You recognized that familiar voice anywhere. “What do you want draco?” you said, trying to make it seem as if you weren’t just crying.

“I want to talk to you, please”

“No,” you said getting up and pushing yourself out of the stall. “You don't get to just throw me away after I told you everything and just come back into my life like nothing ever happened. Just go away, that's all you guys are good for” you spat.

“Just listen to me, it was to keep you safe. I didn;t want to but i couldn't bear seeing you hurt” he tried to explain.

“Safe?” you laughed. “ and what exactly do i need saving from, malfoy.”

“From me” he said as he pulled up his sleeve revealing his dark mark to you. Your body instantly tensed, you knew he was having problems and his family was involved with the dark lord but you never knew it was like this.

“Draco i-” you tried to say something but the words were stuck in your throat. He stood there looking at you desperately like he was waiting for you to tell him everything was okay, you wanted to be there for him but you didn’t know what to do. You trusted him with everything but he couldn't trust you with this? You thought the bond you had made would have made him trust you in the slightest, but clearly it's always you who’s more trusting.

“Why didn't you tell me?” you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

“I thought you’d leave me, you were the only good thing i had. Please don't leave me” he begged, salty tears escaping his eyes and running down his cheeks as he looked at you with desperation.

“So you thought pushing me away by snogging pansy was better?” you yelled, as he continued to look at you slightly taken aback by your lashing out.

“You know what, go ahead and cry little boy. You know that your daddy did too, you know what your mama went through. You gotta let it out soon, just let it out” you taunted walking closer to him looking straight into his teary eyes.

“This time I'll be the one that leaves.” and with that you were gone.

Go ahead and cry, little girl

Nobody does it like you do

I know how much it matters to you

I know that you got daddy issues

And if you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

I'd run away and hide with you

I love that she's got daddy issues, and I do too

It’s been months since that night in the girls lavatory, and you missed him. You wanted to visit him in the hospital wing once you heard what happened with Harry Potter, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. He left you, and you were tired of always going back to people who just hurt you.

Now here you were at the battle of Hogwarts, standing with everyone while Voldemort and his death eaters stood across from you all.

“Draco, draco come here” you heard narcissa call from across the scene. He looked hesitant, as if he was waiting for someone to stop him but no one did. So he started walking over to his parents.

But you grabbed his hand.

“Stay please” you whispered looking up into his eyes.

He looked back at his parents and back at you like he was contemplating his answer.

“I’ll stay”

If you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

I'd run away and hide with you

I love that she's got daddy issues, and I do too

—————-

tagging fun ppl nd ppl who interacted (so srry if u don’t wanna be tagged)

@hellohellook @astoria-malfcy @justfangirlthingies @sfdlm @falling-loki @notvasi @gwlvr @malfoytookmyheart

[luimagines]

You give them a kiss!

Masterlist

Despite the earlier confusion, I’ve got it done! Here you go Anon!

Since there wasn’t any specification, it’s set platonically (but maybe hidden feels) so I hope that’s ok.

Content under the cut!

Wind

You hear Wind call your name. It’s loud and joyful and inexplicably full of excitement.

It immediately light your heart and you turn to see where the voice came from. Wind is starting to run in your direction something clenched in his hand. You can see it sway from his grip but he’s moving too fast for you to get a good view of what it is.

He stops in front of you, hiding what he had behind his back with a a wide grin his face. “I’ve got something for you!~”

You smile and drop what you’re doing, giving him your full attention. “What is it Pirate?”

“Close your eyes.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Please!”

You oblige.

There’s a moment of silence before you feel something being placed on your head. It’s light but it feels oddly familiar and you open your eyes.

Whatever was in Wind’s hands before is gone and he’s staring at you with a pleased look on his face.

You slowly raise your hands to touch what it is and feel yourself smile.

It’s a flower crown.

“I made it myself!” Wind declares proudly. “Hyrule showed me how to make them. It’s not exactly the first one I made... That one didn’t come out as good, I think. But I like this one and thought it would look great on you!”

Your smile widens to a grin and you pull Wind into a hug. Your heart swells in adoration for this boy and you spin him around somewhat. “I love it! Thank you!”

You pull away slightly and give him a kiss on the forehead as thanks. “You’re very sweet.”

There’s a slight blush on his face as he pulls away from you, but his smile never falters. “Well, I’m glad you like it.”

Twilight

"Hey Twilight!" You skip to his side and place your hands on your hips. "How are you on this beautiful day?"

"I'm doing mighty fine, thank you." Twilight tosses a grin over his shoulder before he goes back to checking through Epona's supplies.

"What-cha doing?"

"Just checking through an old bag of mine. I'm looking for a new shirt."

This piques your interest. "Why?"

"My current one is starting to smell to kingdom come so while it needs to be washed, I need to find my other one."

"Well... I mean it's not that....Yeah..... Wild and I didn't want to say anything, but at least you're aware."

"Ok. Thanks." Twi deadpans. "I can feel your support from miles away. I am so glad that I'm traveling with you lot."

"We like having you around too!" You grin and punch his shoulder lightly. "Enough so that it's easy to tolerate the dog smell."

"You know what-" Twilight takes a swing in your direction but you easily dodge it. He's quick to follow you and take another swing.

You catch it and bring his fist towards your mouth to place a quick kiss on his knuckles.

"Maybe a shower will help too." You grin.

Twilight groans and takes his hand back. "I'll take that into consideration."

He begin to absentmindedly rub his thumb over where you kiss him even as he turns away from you and back to Epona.

"Glad I could help."

"Get out!"

You leave laughing.

Warrior

"Excuse me, but I need your assistance." Warrior walks up to and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. "It'll only take a moment."

"Sure thing Capitan." You grin and drop your little project into your pocket. "What do you need?"

"I heard that you have a specific set of skills that I believe would help me greatly in a personal endeavor of mine."

"Drop the fancy talk." You deadpan. "It only makes you look suspicious."

"I want you to teach me about flowers." He admits in a rush.

"...Why?"

"...Seeecret." Warrior hisses through his teeth, unwilling to tell you why. "You're good at knowing what plants do what and how they help people. You're the best person to go to."

"It comes with the territory of herbalism." You grin. "But it's not all about flowers. I'd have to know what you're going to do with the plants if you want me to help you."

Warrior pauses and he takes a while to think about your reply. There's a moment where you can see that's he's battling himself about your conditions. Somewhere among the lines he comes a consensus and sighs. "...But it was supposed to be for you."

There's a blush on his face and he begins to scratch the back of his neck. He's not meeting your eyes.

His reveal surprises you and you smile at the soft confession. You stare at him for a little moment longer you snort. "Ok fine. I'll let you keep your secrets. I've been teaching Hyrule about being an herbalist and he's learning at an incredibly fast rate. He's your second best bet at this point."

"The Traveler?" Warrior blinks. "When did you start doing that?"

"A while ago." You shrug and skip in his direction until you're toe to toe.

"Whatever your surprise is I'm sure I'll like it." You say and go up onto your tip toes to place a quick kiss on his cheek. "You're a sweetheart. thank you in advance. I'll be waiting!"

You hear Warrior audibly gulp as you leave. "Ok! I'll- I'll get working on it!"

Wild

"Wild! I'm bored!" You cry out and flop onto the ground.

You were placed on Wild babysitting duty, curtesy of Twilight, while the others went to go scope out the nearest village for both supplies and information. But because of Wild stepping out of line and going against orders, he was benched until further notice.

"We're both bored." Wild groans and flops on top of your stomach.

You grunt with the unexpected pressure and force from the hit and drop your arm onto his face. "What can we do!?"

"I don't know!"

"But you always have something on your mind."

"That doesn't mean I can just pop out an idea whenever I want!" He shouts back. "My creative process is an enigma. Not even I can control it or will it into action."

You sigh. "So now what?"

A moment of silence.

"Wanna make out?"

"What?" You sit up, pushing Wild off of you in the process.

"Kidding! Kidding!" Wild laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. "I saw an opportunity and I took it."

"Wild." You deadpan, not elaborating on anything else. You do not continue your sentence.

Wild descends into snorts and giggles at your unamused face and he's completely lost himself in his own head.

In the distance you can hear Legend and Warrior arguing with each other and know that you're time alone with the wild child is up. A wicked streak kicks up inside you and you smirk to yourself.

Before the others can come close enough to see the both of you, you maneuver upwards and into Wild's personal space and place a kiss smackdab on his cheek- stilling him entirely.

"Next time-" You say as you stand. "-Tell me what you want to do before the others can come and interrupt."

You send him a quick wink and leave him to his thoughts. You're quick to greet the others and act as if nothing had happened at all.

Wild is still stunned and red in the face where you left him even as the others come close to the camp.

Twilight goes to question what's wrong with him but from what you can hear, Wild doesn't kiss and tell.

Time

Time calls your name with audible hesitation.

It's unusual to say the least and it's enough for you to drop every you're doing and give him all of your attention. "What's up? Is something wrong?"

Time doesn't say anything nor does he make eye contact, and it's even more concern as the moment passes.

"Are you ok?" You stand and make your way toward him.

Time clears his throat for a hot second and takes a steadying breath to meet your eyes. "Everything is fine, it's just, I wanted to ask for your opinion."

You're confused. "That's it? Time, you freaked me out for a second. Ask away."

"Um..." Time stalls intelligently. "Wind pointed out there's a shore line nearby. I was thinking the boys could use a day off....play in the water or the sand, just a break to-"

"YES! Yes! Yes!" You scream and jump up in excitement. "Really? Are we that close? We can have a beach day? Are you serious? Can we go?"

You can feel yourself beam and if he were to say that everyone was getting ice cream and can sleep in tomorrow then you were sure you'd be vibrating.

He looks at you with mild surprise but a soft smile crosses over his face.

"Link, that's a great idea!" You jump on him, hug him, wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. "This is great! When? Today? Tomorrow?"

You drop and jump a bit on your toes still.

He grins. "I wanted to see if we could camp there tonight, and spend the whole day tomorrow just relaxing."

"I can do that! We can do that! This is great! It'll be so much fun! I hope there's waves. I've wanted to teach Wild how to surf and maybe we can get Twilight to join. This is great!" You're too excited to think about where to go but Time points in a direction behind with a wink.

"How about you go help pack up the camp? I'll go collect the boys!"

"Absolutely! You absolute champion!" You run off to go meet up with some of the others and do your given task.

Time chuckles a bit and places his fingertips against where your lips were. It wasn't the reaction he was expecting, but he's not complaining.

Legend

"Excuse me Mr. Hero, what do you think you're doing?" You walk up behind Legend and put your hands on your hips.

You had caught him going through your bag. As obvious as it was that he was trying to be stealthy, he wasn't fast enough to get out before you came back.

Legend freezes on the spot and doesn't turn around to look at you.

"Why are you going through my stuff?" You raises an eyebrow and try to not yell. It's a barely restrained rage that flows through your blood as someone goes through your things without your permission. But it's Legend, you trust him and you don't want to take things out of proportion or escalate things higher than they should.

"I... Um..." Legend gulps and stands up, leaving your bag alone. He kicks the flap over, hiding the insides of it from other prying eyes.

You keep your eyebrow raised and watch as he squirms uncomfortably under your stare.

"I was trying to see if you needed anything." He somehow manages to look up and look you in the eye.

"Like?"

"Supplies."

"Like?" You press.

"Just stuff." Legend snaps and walks away. "We got back from shopping. I just wanted to know if you needed anything."

"And you didn't think to just ask?"

"It's whatever!" He storms away a little quicker than you think he would normally. He's hiding something.

You quickly make your way to your bag and shuffle through it.

You're not missing anything.

Nothing of yours is gone but there's a new thing you notice.

You see three new healing potions that were decidedly not there before along with four packs of trail mix and food stuffs that look nothing like what you usually pack for yourself.

Understanding cascades over you like a wave and you take a deep breath to calm the last of your budding anger.

You seal your bag and leave it there, quickly following after Legend before he can get too far.

You power walk next to him and stop him with a hand on his shoulder. "Hey."

"I didn't do anything!" Legend pulls himself away from you.

"Doubt it." You lean in and place a quick kiss on his temple before he can get away from you entirely. "Thank you. I saw what you did."

"And what did I do?" He wipes it off aggressively.

"Something very kind."

Legend stills once more and keeps rubbing off your kiss. "...It's nothing."

You snort and begin to walk away from him. "Regardless, thank you."

"...You're welcome."

Hyrule

“Would you believe me if I said that I’ve never seen someone be able to do this before?” You ask Hyrule one day out of the blue.

“Do what exactly?” He pauses the spell, your wound stays only marginally healed because of it.

“Do magic.” You shrug. “It’s... not really a thing where I’m from. We have magician but they’re all for show and it’s mostly illusions. You know, smoke and mirrors and the like. If you can figure out how they do it when it’s pretty simple.”

“That sounds... depressing.” Hyrule twists his face and goes back to healing you. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“It’s not so bad. It’s mostly for fun.” You try to sit up now that the pain isn’t as severe. Hyrule doesn’t let you. “Can’t lose what you never had.”

“But it’s all I’ve ever had.” Hyrule’s eyebrows furrow and you can see the gears turning in his head. 

You let him think in the time it takes for you to get fully healed. Hyrule has always needed a little space to get his thoughts together before he says something. 

You’re fully healed in seconds and Hyrule leans away from you. You get to finally sit up fully and you take his hand in yours. He lets you take it and lets you study his hand with gentle fascination. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you and you pull his hand even closer to you. Before Hyrule can even think of pulling away you place a kiss against his knuckles.

“It’s a gift.” You say. “Don’t take it for granted.”

Hyrule smiles slightly and grips your hand. “Thanks. I think you might have a concussion though.”

“It’s nothing you can prove.” You answer with a loopy smile.

Hyrule snorts and stretches his hand by your head.

“Oh, yeah.” He grins. “That explains it.”

Four

Four calls your name with slight hesitation and you instantly give your attention to him out of concern. 

When you see him, he’s hiding something behind his back, slightly hunched back and has a blush on his face. He doesn’t appear to be injured or in any sort of pain so it can’t so bad.

“Four?” You stand up fully and begin to walk in his direction. “Everything ok? Is something wrong?”

Four shoots up and begins to stammer slightly. “No, I- You see- It’s nothing! Everything’s fine.”

“Four.”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- it’s nothing.” Four laughs unconvincingly and scratches the back of his neck. “Here. I made this for you.”

Four holds out a little package covered in cloth with both of his hands and refuses to make eye contact with you.

Intrigued, you close the distance between you two and reach out to take it. The cloth seems high quality and you wonder how much it must have cost to get even a fraction of the square he’s just given you. The package itself is hefty or at least heavier than you thought it would be. 

Four is still refusing to make eye contact but he stays with the clear intent of watching for your reaction. 

You unfold the cloth over the weight and hold it from under. Repeating a similar action for the other side, you see underneath it two beautifully crafted twin daggers. The hilt is what catches your attention the most. It has red and black accents, each of the colors swirl around each other and mimic the wings of a butterfly when placed side by side. There was a hook at the end of each dagger, expertly hidden and you wouldn’t have found it if it hadn’t nagged your sleeve as you passed your fingers over the blade.

You looked with intrigue and gently picked up the blades out of the cloth. You tossed the cloth onto your shoulder and hooked the blades together out of curiosity. 

They fit together perfectly to create an elongated weapon.

“You made this?” Your breath leaves you in a whisper as you admire the craftmanship. “How? When?”

“It’s a secret.” Four grins softly, not bothering to hide his self satisfied smirk..

“And it’s for me?” You grip it tighter and flip it through your fingers, spinning it slowly. 

“Yup.”

You don’t reply, too enraptured in taking it all in. Even as you spin it, it’s astonishingly light for both of them being combined than you feel it should be. 

It must have taken a while to make this.

“Do you like it?” Four returns to be being bashful and kicks the dirt softly.

Your head snaps in his direction and you fling your arms around him. “I love it!”

Four takes a step back from the collision and is too shocked to hug you back.

“Thank you!” You shout and give him the biggest kiss you think you get away with on his cheek.

“I’m totally showing these off!” You bounce off of him. “Wild’s going to be so jealous! Thank you Four!”

You run away to find something to use them against as Four stays behind.

A hand slowly reaches up and touches the cheek where you kissed him. “You’re welcome.”

Sky

“SKY!” You shout and take off in a running sprint. You’re by his side in seconds and you’re quick to wrap your arms around him. He wraps his arms around you as well and turns your momentum in a spin.

“Well hello there!” He calls back in return, a grin on his face. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Would it just be enough to say that I just missed you?” You grin back and get off of his back, keeping your arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"Perhaps, if I didn't know you as well I do." Sky replies with a subtle smirk.

"Rude."

"Am I wrong?" Sky raises a teasing eyebrow.

"That's what you think. I am a ball of mystery." You let him go and step away. "I am in no way predictable. There's no way you can know all my moves."

"I bet that I could."

"I doubt it."

"Try me."

"Alright." You tilt your head up and place a kiss squarely on his cheek.

It stuns him in place and you grin at the result.

"Bet you didn't see that coming."

"Admittedly-" Sky gulps and blushes all the way to his neck. "-I did not."

[calpops]

forgotten | c.h.

Its not unusual for your birthday to be forgotten by many; it’s never a surprise to receive last minute, half hearted texts from friends or belated cards from family. It’s always been easy to let it roll off your back when you have Calum by your side. But the first year he forgets your special day, it crushes you.

aka it’s my birthday and I’ll post relatable angst if I want to :)

1.8k words

my masterlist | feedback and reblogs mean the world

Copyright © 2021 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

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Calum comes home with a heavy feeling in his chest as he notices all the lights are out. It’s only just past eight; usually there would be at least one glowing window lit up by lamp light with you sat with a book in wait for him. Tonight it’s dark and quiet as he enters the house. Soft music doesn’t spill around the corners. The tv isn’t a muffled call to your bedroom. Duke’s paws don’t even click as they come around the corner to greet him. It’s silent and empty and it all echoes around him as he slips off his shoes and goes in search of you.

The bedroom door is closed, no light spills under it. No noise breaks through the wood. His hand apprehensively reaches for the doorknob, trying to be quiet as the night falls on his shoulders. The door softly swings open with a sigh and as his eyes become accustomed to the dark he notices the shape under the covers. You’ve tucked yourself in, a spill of hair on the pillow, arms pulling the sheets taut up around your chin. Duke laying beside you, undisturbed and too uncaring to move from his perch. Calum smiles, soft and serene as he winds way around the bed to kiss you goodnight.

He stops short at the sight of you. Moonlight glimmers against tear tracks down your sullen cheeks. Red, puffy eyes stay tightly shut. Calum’s smile quickly turns to a frown, an ache consuming him as he drops to a knee and reaches gentle fingers out to stroke through your hair. He doesn’t understand why you’re feeling this way but it doesn’t stop him from consoling you. Your eyes flutter open slowly and as you register his presence you bite your lip as fresh tears gather in your eyes.

You pull away from him, bury yourself back under the covers and stay silent.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Calum’s voice is soft and encouraging, trying to coax some words out of you. When you don’t speak, only slightly shake as his hands glide over your arms, Calum feels crestfallen. The silence threatens to swallow him whole. Usually, he knows what’s wrong, can pinpoint the reason for your emotions and pain.

“It’s nothing, okay, it’s just stupid.”

Your explanation is shaken and does little to instill faith in its reason. Calum shakes his head. He wants to tell you that there’s no such thing as a stupid reason for being upset but the words stall in his throat as he tries to climb in next to you but you make no room.

“It’s like this every year. I should be used to it by now.”

Your next explanation further drives Calum to worry. In a snap moment, like a wave crashing over his head, he finally understands. His hand darts to his phone in his pocket, your birthday lighting up the date on the screen. He lets out a broken and uneasy breath as all of the implications try to drown him.

He forgot your birthday. You’ve been alone all day.

“Sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers with a strain in his voice.

He can feel his own tears pooling in his eyes, shame and guilt assaulting all of his senses. He’s never missed your birthday before. Has always been there from the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep. You’ve confided your dislike of the day to him multiple times; he’s noted that he’s the only one who remembers. Cards from family come in days late, texts from friends are last minute and half hearted. All you’ve ever wanted, all you’ve ever asked for on your special day is to have him around.

You shudder out a broken breath, shift under the sheets but make no move to let him in or come closer.

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy at the studio. That comes first, I understand,” you whisper so lowly it’s barely audible but it still cuts deep against Calum’s racing heart.

“It’s not okay, it doesn’t come first,” he tries to reassure and tentatively reaches out for you again. This time, you don’t flinch away. He takes it as a good sign. “I’m going to make it up to you. I promise.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re not the first person to forget, you won’t be the last. It’s always been like this.” You finally shift up and Calum opens his arms for you though there’s little hope in his chest that you might collide into his embrace. It takes you a moment, bleary eyes being rubbed and lip trembling, to get collected. Your gaze meets his. “I’m just glad you’re home now.”

His faith nearly knocks him off his knee as you collide into him and wrap your arms around his neck. Bury your face against the strength of his shoulder. Weep in a small but heart breaking way.

“I’m home,” he repeats and furrows his brows, knowing it’s not enough. His entire chest aches and his eyes burn but he holds his composure, knowing his guilt needs to be put on the back burner for you; it’s small in comparison to the emotions and abandonment that have sat with you all day. “I’ve got you sweetheart.”

He almost promises that he won’t let go, he won’t leave, but a plan burns through the back of his mind and he knows his departure is imminent. He takes solace in the fact you’re exhausted enough to be led back to laying down with heavy eyelids. He murmurs and hums to you until your eyes flutter closed and he’s sure you’re asleep by the sound of your even breathing.

He stands, stretches and keeps his eyes on you for as long as possible. When he finally cuts around the corner of the bed he pats Duke’s head.

“Stay right here. I’ll be back,” he whispers to the old dog, hoping if you wake again his presence will suffice until he’s back.

He’s not gone long. His plan is simple but he hopes it’s enough. You’ve never asked for anything, but the hopes of restoring your ruined day live in petals and icing and charms. He goes back into the house and makes a beeline for the bedroom, gently wakes you and guides you up.

“What are you doing?” you ask as you rub the sleep and leftover sadness from your eyes.

Calum shakes his head, winds his arms around you and helps you to your feet. Your wobbly at first, emotionally exhausted after all of the turmoil. You lean into his side and for the feeling of your warmth against him he’s grateful.

“Trying to make it right,” he answers as he guides you away from the bed and towards the door. “There’s still a few hours of your birthday left. Let me try, okay?”

You nod as you’re led out of the bedroom and to the dimly lit kitchen. Calum walks you to the bar where flowers, some with already dying petals, sit in a vase. A lone cupcake with a candle and flame sits alongside the flowers. A small breath leaves you at the effort. While Calum feels it’s lame, the last picks at the store on the shelf, his heart still hammers at the genuine appreciation in your eyes.

“Come sit,” he encourages as he props a stool around for you. You do as he bids and he looms behind you to softly sing happy birthday in your ear; each line punctuated by a small kiss to your neck, shoulder, cheek, anywhere his lips can reach. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Make a wish.”

He brings the cupcake and the flaming candle towards you, gentle hands holding it within your breath’s reach. You turn to face him as you take the cupcake, his eyes soften as yours find his. You blow it out in one small huff and remove the candle. The frosting and cupcake are a bit stale but you share the treat with a few soft giggles and a swipe of chocolate to his nose. Though the petals are dying you pull the vase to the center of the counter before turning back to Calum to put yourself securely in his arms.

“I didn’t need the flowers or cupcake,” you start and before Calum can speak any words of you deserving more you continue on. “I just need you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs and presses a kiss to the top of your head. His fingers stroke through your hair and his hands come to settle on the small of your back. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again. You’ll always have me. Any day. Every day. I promise.”

You nod against his chest, your trust and faith in him infallible even after the day of desertion and misery.

“Then my wish came true,” you whisper as your cheeks blaze at the confession. Calum chuckles as you further hide against him. “You can’t laugh at me. It’s still my birthday.”

And even when the sun rises the next day, birthday long gone and the heartache of being alone starting to be forgotten, Calum wakes you with a surprise. You sit up to see him throwing your clothes in open luggage.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, eyebrows furrowed as you watch him neatly fold and then haphazardly throw garments in the bag.

“Packing your stuff.”

He doesn’t further explain and it prompts a, “why?” from you.

“So you have clothes to wear on our vacation.” He gives you a broad smile as the words roll off his tongue and he reaches behind him to throw papers onto the bed. They settle at your feet and you reach down to retrieve them, blurry words coming in and finally being processed. Boarding passes.

“Vacation?”

“Two weeks. Just us,” Calum explains as he goes back to packing your things for you. “We leave in an hour.”

The time limit pushes you up from the bed, his effort and act of grandeur making you throw yourself into his arms. Your clothes drop to the floor in favor of him bringing you closer.

“That’s more than I could have asked for,” you whisper with a crack in your voice.

Calum only smiles and finally says the words he’d been thinking for so long. “You deserve even more than this. Sorry it’s late. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

* * *

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[hockey-lover-22]

Thomas Bordeuleau/Nick Blankenburg Part 2

You couldn’t believe that Thomas would break up with you because of something that happened before the two of you had started to date. It had been a few weeks since you had broken up and you spent most of your time with Nick because he was your best friend. “Nick?” You call out.

“Yeah?” He replies.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What’s up?”

“The night Tommy broke up with me, he said something that got me thinking…” you say.

“Oh? What would that be?”

“He said that you were in love with me… Is that true?” You ask.

“Y/n… it’s true. I do love you, but I’m not in love with you.” He says.

“Oh…” you say.

“I love you, but you’re my best friend and I don’t want that to change,” he says to you.

“I love you too Nick,” you respond. “I have to clear things up with Thomas, this is killing me.”

“Okay, let me know how it goes,” he says.

You just smile and nod at him. You make your way to Thomas’s house and knock on the front door, “oh hey y/n, Thomas is in his room,” Matty says.

“Thank you!”

You knock on Thomas’s door, “leave me alone Matty,” he says opening the door, “oh… y/n. What are you doing here?” He asks.

“I had to talk to you, Thomas.” You say.

“Okay,” he pulls the door open to let you inside his room.

You take a seat on his bed and just come out and say it, “I love you, Thomas, so much. I talked to Nick and he said he only saw me as a best friend.”

“Oh thank god. I haven’t been able to do anything since I ended things with you.” He exclaims. He pulls you close to him and kisses you hard, you missed the way his lip felt on yours. But you couldn't help but think what Nicks’ lips would feel like on yours as well. You pull away from Thomas, giving him a sad smile, “but I’m not sure I’m ready to just jump back into a relationship with you Thomas. The stuff you said to me the other week really hurt and I’m not sure I can forgive you so quick for that.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said to you. I was just pissed and I took it out on you and that wasn’t fair to you at all.” He says to you.

“I just need some time Tommy,” you say.

“Then why did you come over here?”

“I came over here to tell you exactly what I said, that I love you, but I need time Tommy,” you say to him.

“Now you’re just been a bitch.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like honestly y/n? You’re just playing with my feelings like that? That’s such a bitch thing to do.”

“Thomas if you can’t respect the fact that I need time to forgive your stupid ass because of all the shit you said to me, then I guess this relationship will never workout!” You exclaim.

“Fine! I don’t want to be with someone who just fucks w my feelings like that anyways.”

“Fine!”

You get up and leave Thomas’s room without another word. Hoping he sees how much he hurt you. You don’t bother telling Nick how it went, because you knew how angry he would be at Thomas.

It had been a few weeks since Thomas and you had gotten into an argument and Nick did everything he could to keep a smile on your face, it made you realize that maybe you did love, Nick. More than just a friend.

You and Matty’s girlfriend were sitting in Yost arena watching the boys play Ohio State. When you watch Nick get hit, hard. “Oh my, that was a hard hit,” Matty’s girlfriend said.

“He’s going back to the dressing room, I’m just going to see if he’s okay.” You say to her.

“Yeah, no worries. Go see how your man is doing.” She winks at you.

You make your way to the dressing room and find Nick sitting in his stall, “hey Nicky… you okay? That hit was pretty hard.” You say to him.

“Hey babes. Yeah, I’m okay. Just got the wind knocked out of me I guess.” He replies.

“You sure that’s all?” You ask.

“Fuck it,” he says slamming his lips to yours. You quickly respond, threading your fingers through his hair moaning at the feeling of his lips on yours. He grabs your hips and pulls you so you're straddling him. It’s difficult because his gear was still on. You melt right into him loving the feeling of his lips being on yours. You break away from the kiss to catch your breath, but Nick has other plans. He continues to kiss you down your neck, sucking and biting, surely living hickies on your neck. You moan in response grinding into him, “Fuck,” he mutters.

“Nick, someone is going to walk in. We have to stop.” You say to him breathlessly.

“Okay, okay.” He says.

You get up from his lap and smile at him, “Y/n, do you maybe want to be my girlfriend? I know it hasn’t been long since you and Bords broke up but—“

“Yes Nicky, I’ll be your girlfriend,” you say, smiling down at him.

“Okay, okay good.” He says.

The game was almost over, “I’ll wait for you outside, okay?” You say.

“Yeah for sure,” he replies.

You wait for Nick to come out of the dressing room scrolling through your phone, “someone bite you y/n?” Brendan asks.

“Shut up,” you say, smiling at him.

“I’m happy Nick finally confessed,” he says laughing.

You just smile and see Nick coming out of the dressing room. He pulls you in for a long passionate kiss, “I could get used to this,” he says.

“Me too.”

Then you can’t help but look over his shoulder and see Thomas standing there with tears in his eyes, you can’t help but feel bad. Nick turns around and sees Thomas standing there, “take care of her Nick. She deserves someone as good as you,” Thomas says walking away from the two of you.

Nick turns back to you and sees the frown on your face, “Hey, why don’t we go out and get some ice cream?” He asks you.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you, babes, for not saying anything to Thomas.” You say to Nick.

“I love you y/n. It’s always been you, and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” Nick says.

“I love you too Nick,” you respond, kissing his cheek.

[fruitcoops]

LOOPS RAILING CAP IN THE SHOWER - cause we all know he deserves it after a game

Not exactly after a game, but still some fun and frisky locker room shower times. Coops (and James) credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut, being sort-of walked in on (only after everything is said and done), cramping muscles

“Hurry up,” Sirius hissed as he teetered on one foot and accidentally dipped the toe of his sock into the water pooling beneath him.

“I’m trying!” Remus whispered back, still elbows-deep in his duffel bag. His face lit up and he rocked back on his heels with a small container.

“Absolutely not,” Sirius said immediately.

“It’s all I have!”

“Mon dieu,” he muttered, yanking his other sock off and kneeling by his own bag. “There is no universe in which that bullshit is going up my ass.”

“It’s Vaseline, baby, not battery acid.”

Sirius turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “It’s sticky, it’s slimy, and it’s cold as shit. You hate it, too!”

“Fair point.”

With a quiet, triumphant ‘ha!’, Sirius emerged with a small tube of clear aloe gel. “Who’s the Boy Scout now, sweetheart?”

“You’re the Boy Scout,” Remus grumbled, wincing as he stood and his knees crackled. “Alright, scoot, we don’t have a ton of time.”

“Oh, baby, talk dirty to me,” Sirius deadpanned.

Remus made a face to hide his smile. “Shut up, you.”

He peeked around the edge of the shower stall once more before backing up against the wall, then stifled a shout at the cold tile between his shoulder blades. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“We do have a perfectly good shower at home.” Despite his words, Sirius could see the gleam of excitement in Remus’ eye as he was beckoned forward. The idea of maybe possibly maybe getting caught was a bit embarrassing if he thought about it too long, but it still sent a thrill through every nerve. That may have just been the feeling of Remus’ warmth on his front mixing with the chill on his back, though.

“Do you—” Sirius cut himself off with one more heated kiss, sliding a hand down Remus’ neck and laughing slightly at the squeak of his wet skin. “I wanna see you. Can you hold me up?”

Remus hummed, then pulled back with a thoughtful look. “Not before stretching. Sorry.”

“Pas de problem, mon coeur.” Sirius uncapped the aloe and handed it to Remus, using the side wall of the stall as a brace to hold himself up. He prayed his own tired muscles would do the job and not send them both tumbling to the floor in a heap of horniness.

“Here, let me…” Remus bit his lower lip and looped an arm under Sirius’ knee, lifting his leg around his waist. “Will that cramp?”

“Nah.”

He looked skeptical, but didn’t protest as he slicked his fingers and ran them down Sirius’ cleft. The water had finally started warming up to a more comfortable temperature; Sirius closed his eyes with a sigh and soaked in the feeling, letting the familiar tingles wash over him while Remus dragged his teeth along the side of his neck and the pad of his first finger slid in.

“You have magic fingers,” he murmured, gasping when cold air hit his pulse point. Whoever created aloe gel, I owe you a fruit basket.

He could feel Remus’ smile as his hitched-up thigh started trembling. “Merci.”

A door slammed down the hall and they both jerked in surprise—the digit rubbing gently around his outer muscle slipped very deep inside on very short notice and Sirius’ yelp was quickly muffled by Remus’ palm. “Fucking Christ,” he wheezed, torn between moaning in contentment and shrieking like a little girl at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry, sorry, it was an accident.” Remus kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“All good.”

“Will this be enough?"

“Considering we have—” Sirius did some awkward gymnastics to spot the wall clock. “—shit, just under an hour until the guys should start showing up, it’ll have to be.”

Remus chewed on the inside of his lip and glanced at the aloe. “I don’t know…”

“Hey.” Sirius cupped his face and kissed him. “This isn’t my first horse show.”

“Rodeo.”

“Same thing.” Remus’ lips twitched upwards and warmth spread all the way down to his toes, not just from the showerhead still spraying them like a firehose. “Besides, God knows you stretched me well enough last night.”

His concern turned to smugness and he crooked his finger slightly. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Bastard.”

The playful insult came out a little breathy as Sirius leaned his head back against the wall, losing himself to Remus’ practiced movements and damp, smooth skin touching him everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Something blunt and quite a bit slicker nudged his entrance after a moment—after a slow exhale on Remus’ part and a whine from Sirius, he was in to the hilt with all ten fingers gripping Sirius’ hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Sirius was rather winded for reasons he couldn’t spare the braincells to name, and Remus laughed under his breath as he began to move. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you can.”

“I don’t want to,” Sirius corrected, rocking his hips to match Remus’ thrusts. His fingers began to get sore from holding the stall so tight, but heat was building in his gut and he was hard enough to almost hurt in the best way. “God, there.”

“Not god, just me.”

He flicked his arm with a teasing grin. “Smartass. This is exciting.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus caught him by the thigh as his other knee buckled after a particularly nice angle. “Can’t hold you, can’t hold you, baby—”

“Got it,” Sirius managed, propping himself up again. A clunky door echoed in a faraway corridor and he heard Remus’ breath catch. “Keep going.”

“Someone’s gonna hear.”

“So?” He quirked an eyebrow and wrapped his free arm around Remus’ upper chest, drawing him even closer for a kiss that was more tongue than lips. “That’s the whole point, right?”

“The point—” Remus punctuated his words with a harder thrust that left Sirius’ scrabbling for grip on the wet tiles with a shaky sound. “—is that we could get caught. We could get caught, and then everyone would see how whiny, and needy, and lovely you are while you’re begging for me.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius practically whimpered. He swallowed hard and wrapped his leg tighter around Remus’ waist.

The water was starting to lose some of its heat, but he was dizzy with lust, and pure pleasure dripped like wildfire through his veins. “Actually, I think they already know,” Remus murmured into the hollow of his throat, leaving a light bite there. “Our friends don’t need to find us fucking in the showers, do they? They just need to take one look at you and they’ll know that as soon as I get you between the sheets, you’re a wreck.”

Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut; he couldn’t seem to close his mouth anymore, nor could he muffle the short, guttural sounds slipping out with every quick movement. His left leg was completely numb; it was a miracle it hadn’t given out yet.

“But no,” Remus continued, hoisting him back up into the proper place with a huff. “No, we just have to be that couple that sneaks into the locker room an hour before call time because we just love to tempt fate.”

“This was—your idea—too,” Sirius panted.

“Yeah, because I can’t keep my hands off you.”

He melted into Remus’ palms as they ran along his ribs and back, then down to his ass to give it a firm squeeze. “Close?” he asked, half-slurred.

“Not as close as you.”

His free leg tried to buckle again as Remus stroked along his shaft, but he forced it to stay steady and settled for gritting his teeth around a loud moan that would surely give them away. Remus smiled and upped the pace, but kept his hips moving at the exact same speed. The contrast made Sirius’ head spin. “Please, please, please, please—”

Teeth sank into the junction of his shoulder and all the air fled his lungs. “What else do you want, baby?”

“I don’t know.” It came out far needier than he intended, but who cared? Stars were already popping at the corners of his vision, and he couldn’t even feel the lukewarm water very much anymore.

“Come.”

“I c—”

“Now.”

Sirius took one shallow breath, two, and then shuddered apart, leaning all his weight into the tiles while Remus pulled out and came on his inner thigh. Through his hazy vision, he saw they still had about forty minutes until any of the others would show up. “Love you. Oh, fuck yeah,” he sighed.

Remus made a questioning noise against his collarbone; Sirius felt his heartbeat pounding under his hand.

“We’ve got time to spare.”

“Thank god,” Remus said with a breathless laugh. “I don’t actually want anyone to catch us.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Sirius agreed. “I think I’d rather—”

“Sup, Mad-Eye?”

Both of them froze in place as a cheerful voice rang out down the hallway. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floors, drawing closer every second. Sirius had gone ice cold, but he didn’t think it was just the shower’s fault.

“Go, go, go!” Remus hissed, yanking away.

Unfortunately, Sirius’ thigh decided that was the perfect moment to cramp so hard it made his vision go white for a second. As soon as his foot touched the ground, his whole hamstring seized, and he doubled over with a strained “motherfucker!”

“Get up!”

“I can’t!”

James’ footsteps were getting louder. Sirius cursed under his breath and limped after Remus into the shitty little janitor’s closet in the corner, wedging himself next to a mop as he bit down on his knuckles to stifle the pained groans building in his throat. Remus shot him an apologetic look and squeezed his hand in sympathy.

The closet was not meant for much more than a handful of emergency cleaning supplies, let alone two mid-season-muscled hockey players. They were pressed chest-to-chest, holding their breath as doom approached.

Well, not doom. Just utter, world-ending humiliation. Not the kinky kind, either.

James whistled to himself as he neared the locker room—two seconds after Sirius buried his face in the side of Remus’ neck to breathe through the agony in his leg, the door slammed open and his best friend began clattering around.

All of a sudden, the room fell silent. Shit.

“Hello?” James called, sounding much too amused for his own good. “Anyone in here?”

Sirius’ pulse hammered in his ears.

“Huh. Looks like somebody left the shower on,” James said with a dramatic gasp. “And what’s this? Two whole duffel bags?”

Fuck, Remus mouthed as Sirius straightened up with a wince.

James started laughing. Deep, deep in his soul, Sirius knew he had spotted the aloe. The squeaking stopped just outside the closet. “Good morning,” James singsonged, though he didn’t open the door.

Remus opened his mouth, resigned, but Sirius jabbed him in the chest with his pointer finger and shot him a warning look. They weren’t going to engage in conversation while naked and crammed in a janitor’s closet. Especially not when James Potter was on the other side.

“I think it’s a little early for all this, but I could be wrong.” He could almost see James shrugging through the thick wood. “I suppose you’ve gotta take what free time you have. Cap, your showers are a lot nicer than these, though. At least they stay warm for more than a few minutes.”

Remus thudded his forehead against Sirius’ sternum.

“Alright, alright,” James said after a moment of quiet. “If anyone were to perhaps be hiding after getting off in the shitty team showers at seven in the morning—at least, I hope you got off—they should feel free to come out of the closet in a much more literal sense because I am leaving. And I will be out of the locker room for five minutes. Once again, that is five minutes, and then I will be back in here to get ready for my job like a responsible adult.”

The door opened and closed again with a click. They both waited with bated breath.

“Ugh, fine,” James groaned. The hinges creaked, his footsteps faded, and there was a loud slam as it shut for real.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sirius said as they shuffled out of the closet, knocking over several spray bottles in the process. “Really, I will.”

“I’ll help you bury the body,” Remus said wearily as he tossed the aloe back in his bag with a sigh. “That was horrific. Think we can sneak out and back in without him noticing?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the door. “The son of a bitch will be waiting for us. It’s better to just accept our fate and let him have this.”

“We’re putting shaving cream in his gloves after this, right?”

“Actually, I think Vaseline would be better.”

[kashimos-hajime]

homestretch of the hard times | g.t.

summary: the eve days of your potential death kinda spurns things to move forward: for takemura, it means confessions. for you, it means making exceptions. and drinks. ‘cause takemura’s the pickiest fucking eater you’ve ever met.

WARNINGS: small spoilers for act 1 of cyberpunk 2077 and references to non-spoiler texts between takemura and v, just fluff, small angst, swearing, idk what else is going on so if there are actual spoilers thats completely coincedental ndlnskfsldnf pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.6k

a/n: so cdpr did us dirty for not allowing us to romance him (to my knowledge) but he has my mind, heart and everything else so :) listened to the bones by maren morris w/ hozier

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

It starts with something straight out of a romance movie: A car crash, saving each other’s lives (well, him more than you) and “Wait, V, I need you.”

You don’t know how you got here, to be precise. There were a chain of events, some absolutely stand up fucking moments on your part, and just… fuckery. So much fuckery and life went to shit.

All you know is the ticking time bomb’s only ticking louder and at this point, the only thing that can silence it at all is the man beside you. Not even the meds Misty gave you can help you now. 

You’re sitting in his car because you called him and he had answered and now… now they’re on one of the off ramps looking over Night City like they own the fucking place.

Maybe you did, once. Ha, maybe back when everything seemed more job to job and not life to life. For a moment, maybe you were in the big leagues.

Takemura doesn’t say anything, even though you can tell he wants to. His hair still pulled into that man bun, collared shirt with not a single wrinkle in sight. Weird how he never looks out of place, not really. Not even with the car crash. Shit, he always looked good.

You think you’re actually gonna miss that. That one semblance of someone being put together that gave you the hope that maybe you could stick it too.

You think you’re gonna miss a lot of things about him—from his stupid complaints about the food here, to his stupid random philosophy texts in the day, to the fact that he eats the ramen you buy anyway without complaint, even though it’ll never compare to what he has in Japan.

The thought that counts.

They don’t even have the radio on, just the dim lights of the car, a window rolled down. You don’t smoke but you feel like you should be tapping a cig either way. You haven’t had the time to just fucking breathe—not with Silverhand breathing down your neck, corpo rats swarming you on all sides. 

Everyone wants a piece of you, it feels like. 

You look at Takemura.

Almost everyone.

“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, with difficulty. It’s hard to get through your words without thinking Silverhand’s behind your back, mocking you. You’re so fucking tired. “It hasn’t been easy.”

He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking at one of the cars nearly collide with a pedestrian. You could’ve laughed. You used to make fun of the shitty drivers in Night City, knowing full well you’re one of them.

You get chased by a couple of cops, rules start to bend.

You used to wonder why you never left.

Then, you actually left, and you realized that hell, you can take the person out of Night City—can’t take the Night City out of a person.

Atlanta fucking sucked, but maybe you should’ve stayed there.

But then, a tiny voice whispers as you look out the window to the fresh night wind. You never would’ve met him.

It’s funny, you think. To come back and get a brain tumour in the shape of a rocker who can’t fucking touch anyone who loves him, who he loved, only for you to fall in love with a corpo you can’t fucking touch at all because… because there is no time left. It just isn’t fair.

“I used to be a corpo kid,” you confess, looking at him with a wry smile again. That catches his attention. He looks at you with those eyes that scrutinize you, interrogate you, peel you apart to your bare essentials and you have to look away before you can’t control your face anymore. God fucking damn it. “Not when it mattered, obviously, but… I remember what it was like. Grew up hating every single on of them.”

“Your parents were Arasaka?”

“Mhm. Security division.” It’s like your eyes are magnetic to his because when you blink, you find yourself regarding him again. Your fingers play at your lips. “Counterintelligence. I was supposed to go into that, too. Big dreams.” 

“I see.”

“Yeah, then my parents were tried for treason and murdered, so I got thrown out. That’s it.” Your hand falls away. You pick at the chipped nail polish on your thumb. “Never told anyone that. ‘Cept…” Jackie. Well, he’s fucking dead, now. “‘Cept you, now, I guess. Guess some corpos aren’t so bad.”

The corner of his mouth pinches up like he’s flattered and you can’t help the pleased warmth spreading through your chest. 

“Should I be honoured I am one of the few exceptions you have made?”

“Well, I don’t make exceptions often, so…” You grin slyly. He looks away just as you catch a flash of his smile growing. It’s a nice smile. You wish you saw it more often before the end of the road. Maybe it’s one of the regrets you have, too. “Yeah, maybe you should feel special.”

“Hm.”

“C’mon, Takemura. Humour the walking dead, yeah?” You stretch against the leather of his car seat with a pleased sound. “I’m spending what time I have left with who I want to. Can’t ask for much better than that.” A quiet hangs in the air as you melt against the black leather and you look at Takemura who’s staring at the wheel with an intensity you don’t often see. It makes your gut squirm. 

“And I? I am one of those people?”

You lean on one hip and look at him, bending a knee and resting an ankle on your thigh. He looks at you with an uncertainty—an uncertainty you’re sure echoes in your eyes.

It was business, then it wasn’t. Maybe it never was.

“Yeah. You’re one of the few on the short list.”

“Exceptions again.”

You laugh. “Yeah. You’re an exception to most things, I think. Weird, that.”

“How so?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I’ve had family—still do, ones that matter, you know. Just… no one ever like you, Takemura. Drives me crazy.”

“The feeling is mutual. Your mocking brings you onto thin ice, V.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel. The engine’s off so it seems more fidgety than anything. Weird. You never noticed he fidgeted before. Maybe he’s nervous?

About what?

“I must ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“If you have a future, what do you see for yourself?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. You frown and pick at your flecking nail polish even more, looking at your hand and focusing more on that so you don’t have to answer your question. His eyes burn into you and you swallow, trying not to act like you haven’t thought, in regret, at night, about a hundred million fucking times the possibilities they could’ve had together.

You’re not about to say all that.

Instead: “Settling down with the family. Mama Welles, people at the Coyote.” You blatantly don’t look at him when you add, “Others. This has been enough action for a lifetime.” You rest your hands on your lap and chance a glimpse at him. He’s looking away from you, out the window on his side, and you shift in your seat. “How about you? You must’ve… had dreams. Before all this shit went down. You make it out of here and then what?”

When he looks at you, your heart nearly cracks at the sadness in his eyes. He smiles, but there is no strength, and his eyes are darker than the night surrounding them.

“I would go to the countryside, just as I’ve always wanted. Leave this, all of this, behind. Rural Japan is beautiful, so a small town would suffice where everyone knows everyone. We do favours for one another. It is community. Nothing like here.” His lips pull into a tiny frown. “When I was a younger man, I wanted a daughter,” is all he says. “I believe I could have been a great father, so perhaps… perhaps one day.”

“A daughter? Not a son?” you ask curiously, and he almost chuckles. You can’t help the faint smile on your face. 

“If my daughter grew up anything like her mother,” he explains with a slight glance towards you, “I would have more hope than a son who was like me.”

You frown.  “You’re not a bad man, Takemura. Any son like you—with your code of honour, your shitty selfie skills—no one’s gotta a chance.”

He merely scoffs in response. Again, with the you mocking him. It’s a wonder he lets you.

“But really, that sounds… nice. A daughter, a wife.” You drum your fingers against your knee and his eyes dart to yours, click like they were always destined to meet, and your lips part. Words stall on your tongue and you want to speak but in the dim lights, you are lost in the darkness of his eyes. Something comes, something goes, and you barely croak out, “Whoever marries you will have to deal with so much of your shit that the kids have to turn out alright. The complaining, for one. Picky eater for another.”

This time, he does chuckle and you swallow a breath at the sound. “Dealing with it comes with practice, V.”

“Is that so?”

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“I—“ For once, no funny retort, no witty quip shoots out of your mouth, and you realize that there is an implication—an intricate dance where they’re struggling not to step on each other’s toes and nearly failing at every turn, yet somehow, it works because they’re dancing, and it’s quiet, and it’s… it’s peaceful.

Shit, you’re getting a load of this. When’d you become a poet?

“I guess I should know,” you finally say. “Never understood why I got so giddy whenever I saw your texts, you know, seein’ your name flash on my phone.” You laugh bitterly. “Guess I know why, now.” He’s silent and you don’t look at him. You look at the dashboard where you’ve kicked your feet up a dozen times, the glove compartment that still has your sunglasses inside.

Shit.

“Thank you for everything. Shit’s a little… more bearable, I guess. When you’re around, that is.” The words come out stilted, awkward, but your heart is so heavy in your throat you feel like you’re going to choke. You look into your lap, your whole body incinerating under what you’re sure is the most judgemental glare of your life and you just hope to fucking God this man says something, does something.

Holy shit. You’re going to die of embarrassment. Didn’t even think that was possible.

Then, a loud sigh. A sigh you’ve heard often enough beside you right before a gunfight or when he has to eat the food you ordered for him or even the nights when they’re exhausted, bruised, and just plain tired right before going to sleep where they lay on the floor.

It’s exasperated, a how on earth did we get here, a very annoyed again, you’re so fucking stupid, and you’re still running through your list on what this particular sigh can mean before a hand gently takes hold of yours. Your eyes dart to his, blinking and he stares at you like you’ve just stabbed him. Your heart is fucking racing in your chest, pounding like thunder. His fingers fold over and you realize, as you interlace fingers, that his skin is burning at your touch. 

Or maybe, it’s the other way around.

They sit there in silence, not looking at one another, looking out windows, parts of the car, everything but each other, and when he squeezes your hand, you close your eyes and swallow your heart.

It’s over.

“V,” he murmurs, voice so deathly quiet and raspy in your ears that your gut clenches. You turn to watch him. “Tell me that you will not stop fighting.” You swallow your breath as his eyes flicker from your own to your parted lips. He inhales quietly and you swear you can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his fingers in your grip. “That this is not all for nothing.”

“It isn’t.“

“Then I was right.” His eyes flutter back to your gaze and he tilts his head. Wisps of fine hair escaping his manbun brush over his nose and you reach up on your own accord, swiping it behind your ear. You lean over the console, your elbow digging into the leather and, tentatively, you trail your fingers down his jaw, hold his face in your hand. “I am… what is that phrase you use so often?”

“SNAFU?”

“No.”

“Assblasted.”

“No.”

“Royally fucked?”

“We need to expand your vocabulary.” You smile nefariously as his other hand reaches for your chin. He pinches it lightly, thumb stretching up to brush over your lips and your face freezes at his touch. “But yes. Royally fucked. I wasn’t wrong when I said I needed you.”

“I think that meant a whole something else back then,” you whisper rawly and he smiles sombrely. His thumb leaves your mouth to brush your cheek, his eyes fixing on you as if he’s trying to memorize aspects of your face: the arch of your nose, the bow of your smile, the way your brow wrinkles. “Meant more business-like.”

“I did. And now, I believe the terms have changed.” He arches an eyebrow. “Are we at a mutual understanding, V?”

“Yes.” And I hate that we are. Your hand along his jaw lifts to wrap around his wrist. “Consider that feeling mutual, yeah? It goes both ways.”

“I will.” Another small smile graces his lips. It makes him look younger every time and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand. 

“Do you wanna grab something to eat before you drive me back home for some shuteye?”

“The choices here are atrocious, V.”

“Then, drinks,” you propose, letting go of his wrist. He lets go of your chin, and turning to face the front, you kick up your feet on his dash. He stares at you for a moment then sighs because there really isn’t anything he can do about it. Nor, do you think, he wants to. You squeeze his hand and send him a silly smile. “How about drinks? I wasn’t hungry anyway.”

“Are you paying?”

You eye him incredulously. “Who do you take me for? You?”

He snorts and the engine roars to life with a flick of his wrist. He grabs the wheel dominantly and you swallow at the way his fingers wrap around the handle. “The Afterlife, then?”

“Or, we could make it rustic.” You pull his hand into your lap playfully and run a thumb over his knuckles. His eyes flit over and you send him a smirk. “I know Mama Welles doesn’t like you, but the Coyote’s serving cheap. Happen to like me there.” He begins to pull out of their little overhang and he nudges their joined hands into your abdomen, silently telling you to buckle in. Rolling your eyes, you mumble out a ‘boomer’ underneath your breath before letting go of him and following orders.

He settles a hand on your thigh and squeezes. You hang an arm out the window. 

The wind’s running through the car, he has the radio on low, and they’re easing through onto the highway.

Your chest is lighter than a feather, mind’s quieter than a ghost.

You’ve seen scarier deaths, dealt a lot more. You know that silence is a bigger killer than most bullets.

But here you are now…

“I’m changing this,” Takemura says. “This music is terrible.”

…Shit, maybe life isn’t so bad, ending the way it is.

[randomrosewrites]

Bittersweet Dreams

Every night, your mind is plagued with visions of an old Liyue. She blesses your nights, like a guardian angel, but you never remember her face or name when the sun rises again.

Pairing: Ganyu X GN reader Words: ~5K Warnings/ tags: Memory loss, reincarnation, blood and injury, death, fluff and angst, happy ending, implied sexual content a/n: I never thought much of Ganyu, until I dreamt of her one night (which unspiringly inspired this fic) and now I'm hooked. Patiently awaiting her rerun.

She comes to you in a dream.

You can tell it’s her from the feeling of it. Warm. Comfortable. It loosens your muscles (if you even have muscles in dreams) and puts your mind at ease. It makes you sleepy, wanting to lie down on the soft hills of grass under the shade of a tree to take a nap.

You don’t know exactly where ‘this’ is, whether or not it’s in the fields of your home, Liyue, or some other place. It looks like Liyue, with the craggy mountains behind you, and the bubbling stream running down the hill. But it feels different.

Then, you see her.

You don’t know what – or who – she is exactly, because you can never get a clear view of her. Everything blurs around her body. But you know she’s there, know she’s waiting for you. Sitting in a pocket of empty grass, sounded by glaze lilies, feet tucked underneath her as she naps.

She starts when you approach, uncurling herself to sit up properly. She smiles. She says your name – at least you think it’s your name, it feels like your name – and pats the spot beside her.

You wade through the flowers and sit down, so close to her that your legs are touching. It’s rather close even for friends, but with her, it feels right. How it should be.

She never talks much. For a dream or a vision, she never has much to say. Only whispering in a soft voice about how pretty the flowers are, or how beautiful the day is. The silence is good. A brief period of peace.

(Peace from what? You always wonder when you wake, but no matter how many times you re-enter the dream, you always forget to ask.)

This dream always ends in the same way.

“You should get some rest,” she says.

“What about you?” you always respond, the words feel foreign in your mouth – like they’re not yours.

She shakes her head. “I’ll be alright. Rest, and have peaceful dreams.”

You rest your head in her lap, as you’ve done a thousand times before. Her hand cradles your head, brushing through your hair lovingly.

“Who are you?” “Why are you doing this?” “What is this?” – You always want to ask, but no matter what you try, the words never come out, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.

Just like every time, your eyes grow heavy, your body grows weak, and you close your eyes, falling asleep once more.

…

..

.

When you wake, you’re never in the flowery fields anymore, but in bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of noise vibrates through the wall, employees at the Inn already getting up to do their daily tasks.

You sigh and rub your eyes, rolling around for another ten minutes before finally getting up.

By the time you dress and leave your room, you’ve forgotten all about the dream.

---

“Good morning, Mrs. Goldet,” you great sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

Verr Goldet looks up from the counter and nods. “Good morning, sleep well?”

You give the cat laying on the counter a few scratches. “As good as always. I had a nice dream.”

She blinks slowly. “What did you dream of?”

You turn away, heading out of the doorway to start your chores. “Her. As always.”

As you disappear, Verr Goldet’s brows furrow and she frowns. It dissolves the second a customer walks into the lobby, ready to check in.

---

You’ve been working and living at the Wangshu Inn for a while now. Free room and food for helping out every day, with Sundays off. It’s a good deal.

You do odd tasks around the Inn, helping out in the kitchen, moping the floors whenever travelers track in mud from the marsh – things like that.

Days are spent polishing the balconies, evenings are spent wiping down dinner tables, and you when the moon is high in the sky, you sleep.

And dream.

---

There are many people in the crowd, packed tight together under the hot midday sun. Guili plains is alive in celebration. Booths are set up on either side of the streets, the smell of delicious food wafts through the air, and colorful decorations hang everywhere. You push through them, scanning the sea of heads for a particular person. She’s not hard to miss, but everywhere you turn, she evades your sight. Anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach – the speech will start soon, and you want to be with her when it begins.

A cold hand falls on your shoulder. Turning around, you sigh with relief.

“There you are,” you yell over the noise of the crowd. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She smiles, showing off fresh Qingxin flowers in her hand. “Sorry, I was distracted by a stall. Would you like some?”

You take her free hand and kiss it. A red blush forms on the apples of her cheeks. “They’re all yours.”

Hand in hand, the two of you make your way towards an elaborate stage, raised high above the people, crafted out of rock and decorated with gold. Many people are gathered around, waiting patiently, holding umbrellas to protect from the sun or fanning themselves off with whatever they have. The two of you take your seats just as the theatrics begin.

There’s a cry, and a point of fingers as the audiences’ attention is turned towards the sky. Hailing in rays of light are two of the Adeptus, taking the form of cranes. One of them a gold and orange, the other blue and white.

Cloud Retainer, you’ve heard (?????) call her Adeptus.

They land on stage and spread their wings out in a flourish.

“People of Guili,” Cloud Retainer begins. Her voice ringing out like a crystal bell. “On behalf of all the Adepti we would like to welcome you here.”

“We hope you have all enjoyed the festivities,” the gold and orange bird speaks next. “Today’s celebration marks not only the anniversary of the creation of Guili, but to also pay homage to the warriors that have fought and are still fighting in the ongoing war. Because of the date’s significance, the Lord of Geo and Lady of Dust have decided to bless all of use with their presence.”

The two birds spread their wings once more. Cloud Retainer raises her head high in the air. “People of Guili, I now present to you, the Lord of Geo – Morax and the Lady of Dust – Guizhong.”

At the mention of their Gods, the people break into a round of applause, this only increases when a man and woman appear onstage, and everyone rises to show their respects. They’re both dressed beautifully, in fine silk-robes, adorned with smears of make-up around their eyes. Your goddess looks divine, accepting the praise with a warm smile. Morax, on the other hand, gazes out towards the crowd, sharp gold eyes piercing anything in his sight.

Morax – though you have nothing but respect for him – has always been a bit enigmatic to you. You can’t imagine what your Goddess sees in him. But their companionship has what lead you to become acquainted with her, so you’re not complaining.

Morax steps forth on stage, raising a hand. The crowd goes silent instantly.

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Morax’s voice is rich and calm. Beside you, your companion is sitting at full attention, gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety. She startles as you place a hand over hers. She smiles thankfully, some of the tension leaving her, before returning her full attention to the couple on stage.

“This land has seen many years of fighting,” your Lord’s words are wispy yet firm, just like dust being blown through the wind. “Many, many people have suffered at the bloody hands of war. Such heinous acts stain the land red, spreading sorrow on every inch of the earth.”

She gathers a breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is strong, that of a warrior who has fought in battle. “But not here. Guili will be – is – a place where there is respite. It’s the beginning of the future, a future where the monsters of today are nothing but a kids-bedtime story in the future.”

Guizhong touches her chest with one hand, the other extending out towards the crowd. “I make this vow to you now – my precious people – we will fight to protect the lives of each and every one of you. I promise you security, prosperity, and peace. One day, the bloodshed will end, and I promise you, when that time comes, when the dust has finally settled, we will lead you into the new age of Liyue. To this, I swear on the very ground I walk upon.”

There is nothing but pride, joy, and determination emanating from the crowd, applauding the Lady’s finest speech. Even Morax is smiling at her, the small corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Cool fingers squeeze yours. Looking over, there are tears in your friend’s eyes. She blinks them away, the wind tousling her blue hair.

She’s beautiful. Your heart squeezes painfully as you fight the urge to lean over and kiss her.

You squeeze her hand back, letting all of your hopes, feelings, and things unsaid pool between the two of you.

---

There is an Adeptus at the Wangshu Inn.

You know little of the Adepti, but seeing the boy (being?) in front of you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he is one.

His sharp eyes slide over to meet yours, run up and down your person, before returning to your face, then back to staring at the marsh.

“Sir Xiao?” you ask. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were warned he would be like this - bitterly stubborn and unresponsive.

You settle the plate down by your feet. “It’ll be here if you feel like eating.”

You wait a minute longer, but Xiao doesn’t make a peep. You sigh and turn to go back inside.

“Do you remember Guili?” he whispers suddenly, so quiet you nearly mistake it for being the wind.

You spin around. “Do I what?”

“Guili. Remember Guili.”

“…Remember? It’s an ancient ruin,” your brows furrow as you frown. “I’ve only been there maybe once or twice, passing by.”

A painful second goes by.

“Why, am I supposed to know something about it?”

From what you can see of his face, Xiao grimaces. “Nothing, just – just forget it.”

“You can’t just-”

“I said forget it,” he snaps, his voice cracking at the end of his words. “You don’t – I thought you – ” He rubs his face with his hand, breaths deeply. “It’s nothing. Please just leave.”

He gets up suddenly and leaps from the balcony before you can even speak. Leaving both the tofu and you alone on the balcony, a cold ache spreading through your heart.

---

She’s nervous, you think. Abnormally so.

Jueyun Karst is safe, kept watch over by Morax’s Adepti and the Qilin in the clouds. Only select few are allowed up where you are – (There was a smug steak of satisfaction when Cloud Retainer begrudgingly let you traverse her abode atop the mountains, Ganyu smiling gleefully as she held your hand.) – and even less are allowed to set foot on the sacred lands.

She’s been shifting for the past hour, unable to focus on conversation and jittery. Ever so often, she rubs her hands over her horns in a pacifying motion, then as if realizing what she’s doing, abruptly tears her hands away.

“Is the upcoming battle bothering you?” you ask, finally, not being able to stand her fidgeting much longer.

She stiffens, surprised that she’s been found out, and dips her head in embarrassment. “Oh. No, it’s not that…”

“…Ok. If not that, then what?”

She swallows thickly. She turns to you, taking both of your hands in hers, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I was wondering…I mean I hope,” she starts, nervously. “That after this is over…all of it…that maybe…you’d, um…”

You’re patient, gently prompting her, “I’d?”

“W-well, that we could…?” she trails off, squeezing your hands again. “That this…could be s-something more.”

Oh. Oh.

Your chest heats as you lean forwards, whispering her name to the wind. She squeaks raising her head.

“I like you,” you sigh, unable to stop the loving cadence in your tone when you say it. “A lot. So whatever concerns you have just know that…anything you want is…it’s all good.”

She’s silent for a moment as your heart pounds against your ribs. Slowly, she tilts her head towards yours, resting your foreheads together. Her cheeks are so hot, unlike the cryo vision strapped to her side.

“I like you a lot, too,” she says. “I don’t really have…any…experience with something like this but um…I’d like to try.”

Your heart soars, leaps, and does a flip twice over. You smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

She blinks, nodding her head.

“May I kiss you?”

She wets her lips with her tongue and nods again, vigorously.

You close the distance, firmly kissing her lips. They’re soft and plush, warmer than you’d imagined. (Because you have imagined this, many, many nights before.) A mix between a gasp and a pleasured sigh escapes her, the noise only heating you up further.

When you pull back, she’s turned three different shades of pink and her eyes are glazed. You rest your head against hers and wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the curves and dips of her body, squeezing at the skin there.

“Good?” you ask.

She nods, tucking her head onto your shoulder. “Mhm.”

At some point, you lie down together, tangled in limbs, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing and heart beats as Liyue’s night sky sparkles with constellations.

It’s only much later, when you hear the screams, that you realize peace is fleeting in this world.

---

You pant heavily, setting the last box down on the ground and flop on the stairs. Five in total, weighing gods know how much. Each one filled to the brim with legal documents from Liyue Harbor. You had suffered through carrying them one-by-one up the stairs as the elevator had conveniently decided to break this morning.

You push the box with your foot, sliding it with the others against the wall. If this is how much paperwork the Inn gets, you don’t even want to know how much paperwork the Qixing have to deal with. (Then again, it was the Qixing that dictated the laws, so perhaps it was well deserved.)

Verr Goldet had taken one look at them and called it an early day, leaving you to handle closing.

At least your day is done now. You hang the keys up in their proper place, pet the cat goodnight, and begin blowing out the lanterns.

“Um…excuse me?”

The sudden voice startles you, turning towards the entrance. A figure stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight. You can’t make their identity out.

“Could I speak to Mrs. Goldet? It’s about the recent delivery of paperwork.”

“Mrs. Goldet is away right now; I could take a message?”

The person nods, steps through the threshold, and your mouth goes dry.

She’s tall. Eloquently dressed with hair the color of Glaze Lilies. It frames her face, falling down her back in delicate curls. As you stare, stary eyes blink back at you in shock.

She seems familiar.

“I’m…sorry…” she says, turning away quickly. “I-I’ll just come back tomorrow-”

The tassel of her outfit swings as she does a complete 180. Her hair is furled out, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. The sight sends a throb to your temple, the scene feeling reminiscent of…something.

Your head is aching.

“W-wait!” you reach out and grab her arm, catching on the cuff of her sleeve. The motion rattles the necklace around her neck – no, not a necklace – a bell. The chime crisp like morning frost, soft like the way she feels, like the way she-

Pain bursts from your temples, piercing both sides of your head. You cry, loosing your grip in the process. There’s a muffled yell before the world blurs, spins, and sends you tumbling down, down, down, into the dark.

And then, there’s a hallow nothing.

---

She comes to you in a dream, but Liyue is not as it once was.

There is fire everywhere you look, the ground scorched by flames or destroyed in the aftermath of intense fights. The air is thick with smog, choking you with each gasp you take. One of your legs isn’t working and blood pools through your fingers pressed tightly against your side. You don’t know how much further you can make it.

You hobble through destroyed fields, corpses littering the ground, blood seeping into the earth. All of the glaze lilies are gone, wiped out in the destruction.

You cross the river on one leg. You slip on a rock and lose your footing, collapsing into the water. It’s freezing, the sensation colliding with the burn of your wound. You shiver and suck air through your chattering teeth, dragging yourself using your arms. Your side screams in pain at every pull, black spots dance in your vision. You grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the dirt, pushing forward.

Not yet, you can’t die just yet.

You exhaust yourself at the edge of what used to be the flower field, rolling onto your back and wheezing at the sky. This is as far as you’ll go. Mud soaks through your clothes. You dig your fingers into it, grounding yourself from the searing pain.

You hear the chime of her bell before you see her, crisp and pleasant, soothing your mind. She cries out your name, fear and desperation in her voice. You call back, a cracked, soft groan.

The bell draws closer and she rushes to your side, kneeling in the dirt. Her hair’s a mess, dirty and singed. Her sleeve is torn, blood dripping down her pale forearm. She pulls you onto her lap and rushes to tend to your wounds, pressing a hand to your side. She’s never been a healer, only a fighter. A strong fighter. Stronger than you could have ever hoped to be.

“You’ll be fine,” she says to herself more than you. She nudges you gently. “Please stay awake just a bit longer.”

You take her hand and squeeze it tight. Smiling takes all of the will you have, and even then, it’s weak. “It’s alright.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes – such pretty eyes – wide and filled with tears. “Please don’t go. I can’t…”

“Morax,” you croak. “There’s still him.” Your goddess, Guizhong might be gone, but he’s still alive. As enigmatic as he is, you know she’ll be safe in his care.

“I care about that!” she shouts, for the first time ever, her anger directed at you. “I’m not talking about a god to follow, I’m talking about you!”

She’s sobbing now, her eyes swollen red, teeth clenched tightly through her gasps. She curls around you, fingers grasping at your bloody clothes.

You lean your head into her, offering what little comfort someone dying can offer their partner.

“I’m sorry, Ganyu…” The life is fading from your body, your fingers and toes are so, so cold. “For leaving you like this…”

She gives up on the wound, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her head onto your chest, over her heart. Pitiful whimpers leave her mouth, awful sounds that make your heart ache.

“I love you,” she confesses, the words coming out as a sob. “I love you.”

Your heart squeezes. “I love you too, please…”

But the words don’t come. The ache in your side is almost unbearable, growing worse and worse with each shallow breath you manage. You fight to keep your eyelids open, but you’re so tired. And sleep has never been more appealing.

“Rest, now,” she coos, combing your matted hair from your face. You feel the small, delicate press of chapped lips on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The void calls, gathering you into its arms, wrapping you in a warm bundle; warning you that your time’s up. You fight against it a bit longer, mustering up the last of your consciousness to tell Ganyu – you friend, partner, lover, one final thing.

“Forgive yourself.”

She bites her lip, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She nods. You’re relieved.

Her form wavers, and you know you can’t stay any longer. You let your eyelids close, your breathing slows, and you give yourself to eternal sleep.

…

..

.

“Sweet Dreams…” she whispers after a long while, in a soft, saddened voice.

---

You wake up alone, sweating in your bed, in tears, and remember.

---

The climb to Quicing Village is long and straining. You could have taken the path to the west, but stubborn as you were, wanted to save time by scaling the mountain.

You don’t know what drew you to this place, only a tugging at your heart forcing you forward. A firm belief that you’re heading where you need to go.

It’s easier the further up you go. You’ve done this before, in another life, as another person. You remember scaling mountains all the time, just to pick the freshest Qingxin petals for her. You used to eat them together, on the tops of Mount Azjong, legs dangling in midair, watching the birds go by, the wind nipping at your skin.

It’s not long before you reach the top, where the path dips to overlook the village. Fields of red, blue, and yellow stretching over the lands.

You let yourself wander, talking to the villagers as you go. Everyone is so nice, excited to talk to a new stranger in town. The air’s so fresh and the grass is so green, it reminds you of those days in the fields of glaze lilies.

You almost stop breathing when a familiar scent flows by on the wind. Sweet, fresh, cool. One you’re very well acquainted with. You rush forward, running towards the smell faster than your legs can carry you.

She’s sitting in a field of flowers. Just like the ones in your dreams, except there’s only one glaze lily, resting by her knees and cupped in her palms. You slow down and take the stone paths carefully, as to not to disturb the environment.

You stop just behind her, clearing your throat. She startles with a jump, turning around. Your face heats in embarrassment.

“Ah…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her lips, which are slightly parted, close. She shakes her head. “It’s quite alright…I was just enjoying the day.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She pauses, then nods wordlessly. You settle down in the grass beside her, a visible gap between the two of you. There are many things you are unsure of. Does she even want you here anymore? Does she just want to forget what happened?

“[First] is your name, correct?” she says eventually.

“Oh – yes, it is.”

She nods, staring out over the river. Another silence befalls you.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” you blurt. “For a while. It comes back in chunks. The memories of my past.”

“That usually happens with reincarnation. The soul is the same but the body and mind doesn’t remember, plagued by shadows of a past life.”

You swallow down your nerves, trying not to focus on how your voice shakes. “In that past life, were we…were we…lovers?”

Her fists clench on her lap. She takes a shaky inhale and nods.

“Oh…” Is all you can say. You knew – know? But to heart it out loud is…

“You look just like you did all those years ago,” Ganyu murmurs sadly. “I’ve never forgotten your face.”

A heavy, hot weight settles in your chest. “How long has it been?”

“Thousands of years…since before the Arcon war,” Ganyu rubs her eyes with her palm. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You wait until she composes herself before you speak again. “I remember in the past, you asked me to share a future with you.”

Ganyu turns to face you, and desire flares up inside your chest. Dark and powerful, urging you to pull her close and into your arms.

“I did.” She says.

“I’m not…the same person from the past. I don’t know who or how I was, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to remembering anything. But…”

Cool fingers rest on your lap, you shudder at the touch. Ganyu smiles gently, and there’s a feeling of deja-vu when she says. “But…?”

“But if you’ll have me, I would like – I’d really like to – to try. With you.”

Ganyu scoots to the side, until your thighs are touching, and hums softly. “I think I’d like that, too.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and squeeze her fingers tightly. She smells sweet and floral, the scent overwhelming your body, making your head drift and spin. You’ve never smelled anything more right.

“I hope this isn’t rude, but you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

She flushes deeply, smile spreading across her face. “You told me that before, thousands of years ago, when you first met me.”

You smile back, tucking a piece of stray hair from her face. “Well, it’s true.”

---

As much as two immortals (???) might have just rushed back into dating, neither of you wanted that.

You two talked. A lot. About your current lives and past. You talked about Wangshu, about your occupation, about Xiao. (“Don’t mind him,” Ganyu had said. “Xiao’s always a bit cold, even to the other Adepti.”) Ganyu talked about the harbor, about your past lives in Guili.

You might not ever get your memories fully back. But even if you don’t, you feel surprisingly calm and accepting of it.

At the end of the day, after both of your throats were hoarse from conversation and your eyes wet from emotion, you both decided to part ways.

She returns to Liyue Harbor. You return to the Wangshu Inn.

Temporarily, you promised, until you figured yourself out. Liyue Harbor is daunting, the populated streets reminding you too much of Guili, of memories you can’t remember, that make your head ache terribly.

You stay at Wangshu. In the mornings, you mop floors, dust paintings, and help fix the elevator. At evenings, you go to the top floor and eat plates of Almond Tofu with Xiao, staring longingly towards the Harbor.

And at night, when you go to bed, you don’t dream of the past, but of your future.

---

One day, when you return to an empty room, and your heart aches with loneliness and the desire to see her becomes too painful to bear, you decide it’s time to go.

---

Liyue is calm, today.

The clouds drift by idly, whisps of white against blue as birds soar on the random wind currents. The sun shines high in the sky, slowly making its way across the map.

“Stop moving,” you grumble, locking your arms tightly around her, burying your face into her chest.

Ganyu chuckles, carding her hands through your hair. “I’m sorry, did I disturb you?”

“Yes…I was having a good nap.” Which is true. Ever since your reunion, you’ve been sleeping more soundly than you ever have in years. Perhaps it’s because you don’t dream of the old anymore, don’t float through your memories like a puppet being pulled on a string.

“You’ve had enough time to rest, I think,” she says tartly. “Thousands of years’ worth.”

You lift your head and pout. “You’re so cruel,” But your words don’t hold any bite.

Ganyu smiles mischievously. Her hand trails down your spine, drawing a shiver from you. “Do you think it’s unfair? To not indulge me after I’ve waited for you all this time?”

You drag yourself up to be eye level with her. Your hand cups the back of her head, trailing up to the base of her horns. A gasp escapes her lips and her eyes flutter when you tenderly pet them.

“If you wanted my attention,” you whisper, lips an inch from hers. “You could have just asked.”

Ganyu pulls you down by the neck, sighs and gasps being lost to the wind.

---

Much later, when the two of you were sweating and grass was stuck in both of your hair, you lay together, dozing under the night sky. Ganyu lays curled to your side, feet tucked underneath her, a content purr vibrating from her throat. You wonder if all Qilin do that.

As you pet her hair, fingers rubbing curiously over her empty ring finger, a deep feeling of content seeps into your bones.

You’re home, at last.

You kiss her forehead, joining her into a peaceful dream.