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transman-badass · 1 year

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A Meeting at the Sow's Ear - a Cthulhu Mythos Short Story

"Evening to you, too, Mr. O'Tipp," I said and I felt the tightness of my words on my tongue. Nathan O'Tipp smiled wider. He looks like a fine man until he smiles. Looks like he should be wandering a Hollywood studio, him with his perfect fair skin and his nice suits. But when he smiles, it stretches too wide, and his eyes have got a shine to them that I've never seen anyone else have. Even when the darkness hides everything else, I see his eyes, almost the same shade as my own. No, there's not a drop of human or humanity in him. I hope he doesn't know I know. "Come out of the dark, Harbinger," he said. "Let me get a better look at you. You are such a treasure to me, I can't let anyone else break you."

Part of the Pharaoh Syndicate Investigations series - a reupload with some edits

CW: blood, discussions of homicide, Prohibition and all that implies, body horror, mild trans/homophobia early on,

Arkham, 1931

Overhead the stars walked the sky like restless strangers, and the fat moon lounged back and watched us all. But it’d missed the fun. Before sunset, I shot two people for the contents of a dirty old bag. Now I walked with that bag down the street to Dad's house. No idea who's Dad he is. He may give me an allowance, but he sure ain't no family of mine.

From five houses down I heard it, one of the favored songbirds singing like it was still 1926. Closer I got, the reason why I heard her became obvious - they’d opened half the windows on the Sow’s Ear. No point hiding it from the coppers anymore. The boss owned them too.

Part of the ‘contract’ with my old boss and the new one took my name. Like the new boss said, I didn't need it anymore. I liked that name. I chose that name. I still use it with one single person. But for everyone else, I'm the Harbinger. And that means I’m whoever the boss wants me to be.

He don't know about this, so don't let me catch you calling me shit like Gumshoe or Dick Dickless. I get enough of that bull from my coworkers. If you wanna call me anything, call me by my real name.

My name was Lazarus, once. I'm 23 years old, pretty sure. I was born a woman. Not long ago, I was an investigator at Keller and Queens Detective Agency. Now I serve a monster pretending to be human. I don't think he knows I know that. I hope he doesn’t know I know that.

There are two speakeasies in town, and until I got my new job, I'd never been to either of them. I was a good citizen once upon a time. One of the speakeasies is run by a cult. The other is a cult. I'll let you guess which one I go to. Only real difference is who's at the center of it anyway.

The Sow's Ear is the center of the boss's operations in a part of Arkham nice people like to forget about. Pretty sure he lives above it. So what? Times are hard. Not a bad place to live anyway. Cute little spot, two stories, looks like all the others in town. Customers come in through the back, employees in the front. Somebody put a sign up for the Women's Christian Temperance Movement by the front door years ago. Boss must've thought it was funny. Now it's as worn and dirty as everything else in the city.

Adds to the charm, I guess.

I got one solid knock in on the door before it cracked open, and two glaring eyes met my own.

"What's the password?" The man spat out.

This was the dumbest part of the whole thing. He knew who I was, and I knew who he was. But old Lyman didn't like me much, and he took every opportunity to try and screw me over.

With a huff, I let the words out.

"Kynyarle keh-urak ghottu."

No, I don't know what that means either.

Lyman stared at me. He pulled away from the door.

"Tell Mr. O'Tipp his dyke is back," he said to someone on the other side.

The door swung open. I caught a glimpse of Lyman's back vanishing into the bar. I ground my teeth. Some men take it real personal, when you don't stick between the lines. I told myself again, I'll get him back for all the shit he'd put me through.

But the bag.

I closed the door behind me, adjusted my sweaty grip on my cargo. The stairs sat right in front of the door. Up I went into the maw.

Always felt like the steps were gonna collapse under me, with how they creaked and groaned underfoot. I go up and down them least once a week, mostly more, but the old wood hated me like everybody else. Not a single fucking picture hung on the wall to distract me, either.

What I really hate? The fact it's on purpose. The fact the bastard didn't need any message sent saying I was here. The fact he had my footsteps memorized the very first day we met.

I won't let him get to me, I said to myself, I lied to myself.

At the top of the stairs he has a velvet curtain hiding his little home away from home. Expensive, purple, golden gild and soft under my tired hand. I lifted it aside and walked into the shadows waiting for me. Heard the music nice and loud now, a voice deep and sweet blessing my ears. Not from the hallway in front of me, that led to his office. It came from the right. From the balcony that overlooked the speakeasy below.

Two golden cats in the antique Egyptian style stood by on either side of the entry. Framing the view, more purple curtains, held back by golden chains. Between them, looking out over the dancing, thriving crowd… him.

As I watched him, me in the shadows and him in the light, he looked over his shoulder at me, and smiled.

"My personal investigator returns," he said. He folded his arms behind his back, took a step forward as he turned all the way to face me. "Once again you've cheated death, haven't you?"

I set my jaw, didn't look down where his eyes settled on my body. Didn't have time to wash out the blood before I headed here. Didn't want to tell him how much of that blood was mine.

"Evening to you, too, Mr. O'Tipp," I said and I felt the tightness of my words on my tongue.

Nathan O'Tipp smiled wider. He looks like a fine man until he smiles. Looks like he should be wandering a Hollywood studio, him with his perfect fair skin and his nice suits. But when he smiles, it stretches too wide, and his eyes have got a shine to them that I've never seen anyone else have. Even when the darkness hides everything else, I see his eyes, almost the same shade as my own. No, there's not a drop of human or humanity in him. I hope he doesn't know I know.

"Come out of the dark, Harbinger," he said. "Let me get a better look at you. You are such a treasure to me, I can't let anyone else break you."

I ground my teeth, but didn't hesitate. Oh, I knew from experience what happened if you hesitated. Over the music I heard my shoes click on the tile. I walked to him and watched his smile grow even wider.

"That's my boy," he said. His hand gestured to the view beyond his balcony. "What a lovely night, isn't it? Beautiful summer, with all her life and bounty, rejoicing in her brilliance as she has for centuries."

Over the railing, there lay a different world. A little softer, a little dimmer, the glitz and gems a touch tarnished, but still beautiful like the dresses on the ladies. People dancing and gambling and kissing and drinking, like the world wasn't dying slow beyond these walls.

God, the people, it caught me dead even in that moment. More shades of skin filled the room than I had ever seen before coming to this city. I thought I was more sophisticated than people wanted to believe, when I left that miserable place. Thought I'd impress people with how much I knew even if I was from Alabama. But nothing like this existed back there. The police would rather burn the whole place down with everyone inside than let white and black blend together. I guess I thought the whole country was like that, whether I liked it or not.

But Arkham was different. Arkham was… better. It sure taught me a lot of lessons. Biggest one is, I don't know as much as I think.

"It is lovely, sir," I said. At the sound of the last word, my grip tightened on the bag.

In the light his eyes did not quite shine but something dark and cruel glowed through his expression.

"I do love how you call me that," he said. He said, like I had any choice but to do so. "It's so much better than your previous defiance."

He must have seen how I fought the rage down, how my fists shook and trembled the bag. He must have, I saw it in the dark twist of his smile.

I wasn't just a detective back at the old agency. I was in charge of the entire investigation into O'Tipp and his tricks. I hunted him, and he hunted me. So many nights I spent on him, staking out his territory, talking to witnesses, finding the clues that could unlock whatever terrible dirty secrets he held.

And I lost. I didn't even know it was a game, that I was never a threat to him, that he was enjoying the hunt. I lost and he won, he won me and my sister, too. Now I'm gonna be working for this bastard for the rest of my life.

And I know, he's going to enjoy every second of it.

Mr. O'Tipp gestured with a finger, guiding me away from the view below. I watched the muscles of his face tighten with hunger or anticipation as he looked at the bag in my hand.

"How much did it cost?" He stepped into the shadows, his long fingers tracing the dangling chains on the wall.

I looked away from him. O'Tipp didn't mean cash.

"Two." I mumbled the word.

"Oh?" He glanced back at me.

Details. He wanted details. I forced myself to inhale.

"The first bled out, I think." I couldn't have saved the poor bastard even if I knew how. "Took a bullet to the chest." Took my bullet to the chest. "The other was guarding… It." Nausea curled inside my stomach. It. The thing in the bag. "I shot him in the back of the head. Like you told me to."

"Good boy," O'Tipp said, and the light cast a shadow on his face, like the skin were paper and the flesh were a mask. "Did you look into the bag?"

I closed my eyes. I couldn't force the memory down. How my fingers curled around the box-like shape within the burlap, only for my flesh to sink into something cold and beating like a pulse beneath them.

"No, sir," I said

"But you're sure it's the right thing?"

I did not open my eyes. I could not handle the thought of seeing the smile I heard. I could not help but think that if I opened my eyes, the face looking at me would not be human anymore.

"Very much so, sir."

"My dear Harbinger," O'Tipp said, "Where is your curiosity? Wouldn't you like to see what you've brought me?"

Now I opened my eyes, and they opened wider than I wanted them to.

"Definitely not, sir."

He stood in front of the door to his office, smiling at me. I looked at his eyes to fight the thought of too many teeth.

"A pity," O'Tipp said. "It would have been better for you if you'd been willing to… expand your knowledge of the world."

My stomach sank with understanding.

"But!" He beamed at me, like a father gazing proud at his offspring. "That makes it more fun for me. Come on then."

He opened the door. Numb, I followed.

A strange little otherworld, Nathan O'Tipp's office is. A little antique and ancient, a lot of books and papers. Globes on the shelves of bookcases stacked to the ceiling. Star charts papering the exposed walls. Nonsense maps full of nonsense places. The world beyond the window, hidden by the same curtains he used everywhere else, golden tacks pinning down the fabric so not a drop of sunlight could fall inside. Furniture in all types of wood, light, dark, painted, lacquered, raw.

His empty desk waited for us.

I don't even remember when he took the bag from me. He rested it on the desk, and the fabric sunk way, way down. The same boxy shape, thick as my wrist, and yet the fabric darkened around the edges of it, wet.

O'Tipp breathed in, and exhaled a light chuckle.

He raised a hand, looked at me. With care, he removed the glove from each finger, one at a time, and let it drop to the floor.

"Don't look away," he whispered, and I knew that was an order.

His hand rested on the flat surface of the bag, and sank down. The fabric and the thing beneath it shivered like disturbed water.

My throat locked up. I did not look away.

"Yes," O'Tipp said, eyes locked on the bag. "You’re the real thing, aren't you?" He nodded his head, looked up at me, and I saw it exposed bare to me, the disconnect between what I knew of reality, and what he knew of it.

"Don't," I mumbled.

"I've been waiting years to find this," he said. "And it came into my grasp so easily. I did not even need to negotiate with their god to do it." O'Tipp leaned over the desk towards me. "Dagon will be furious to know I have this. This sick creation, somewhere between science and witchcraft - the creation of a mind as brilliant as our own beloved Keziah Mason!"

"Please let me leave," I thought, I mumbled.

"You are a miracle worker, you know that, boy? You are, undoubtedly, my favorite curse upon this tiny planet. And this book?"

His wet fingers gripped the cord on the bag. With one pull, the bag opened, releasing a smell I've never forgotten.

"It’s mine now. Mine just as much as you and she are."

Without ceremony or care, O'Tipp snatched the bottom of the bag and upended it. Something green, or something black, something both and neither and iridescent tumbled down. It hit the wood with a crack like a breaking bone, the sick smack of flesh falling from a height it could not survive.

It gurgled like a drowning animal. Water, dark and grimy, bubbled from the open hole of the spine.

And the smell. That goddamn smell. Like the sea became as stagnant as still water. The copper rot of an untreated open wound. Seaweed and fish left dead in the sun and storm.

And my voice shook as I spoke, as I recognized the thing by its shape.

"A book?" I said. "That's it? It's a book?"

O'Tipp pulled his other glove off with his teeth and I could have imagined it but before he tossed it aside, I saw holes in the fabric. Barehanded, he ran his fingers over the cover, and it rippled under his touch.

"A grimoire," he said, stroking the dark, slick surface. "Written by a stranger in a land far more obscure than any on the surface." His smile, his smile, there was nothing I knew of sanity in that smile. He looked to me and his mouth stretched wider.

"Have you ever been to Innsmouth?" He said, and did not wait, because he already knew the answer. "Quaint town with too many secrets. It's up north from here. The whole place was claimed by a cult worshiping a god that lives in the sea, so they say, until the federal agents burned it all down. So they all say. So all you need to know right now.” He tilted his head, the smile staying still. “Look at you, you're so pale. Have you never seen a book before?"

I said nothing. He seemed to like that.

"If you care to believe me," he said, "this-" his fingers tapped the surface of the book, sending waves through the flesh. "Was made from the body of one of those cultists.” He chuckled at me. “Oh, please don't faint, you still have to walk home. Don't be upset." His voice lowered. "This isn't made from a human."

I shouldn't have said it, but I couldn't look away from it. From him.

"Then what is it made of?"

"A Deep One. Skin, cartilage, preserved flesh - no scales, did you notice?"

I shook my head. His expression dripped with sarcastic, amused pity.

"Don't worry, I'll spare you the bookbinding lesson. It's a gruesome thing, so I've heard. But I'll show you one more thing."

Please don't, I thought.

"It still drips with sea water, did you notice?" His hand traced over the lock. A flick of the fingers and without a key, it opened. "But look inside…"

I didn't want to. I did.

The pages, bone white, dark letters of a language I'd never seen before. Bone white pages. Bone dry pages.

"Fascinating, isn't it? What horrors lie in this book, do you think, in that language I have yet to teach you?”

O'Tipp slammed the book shut. I stumbled back, and he laughed.

"Go home, my precious detective," he said. "You've done a wonderful job today. No need to come in for a while. Keziah and I are going to be very busy with my new prize. Enjoy a break - I’ll find you when I need you.”

Despite the way my veins pounded, so loud in my ears I barely heard anything else, I answered him.

"I know, sir."

His gaze hungered.

"Good boy."

I did not head home quickly. In fact, I did not leave the building quickly. No, I'll tell you the truth: I did not even go down the stairs for a good long while. I stepped from the office, the air chilling on my colorless face, and swayed. My body hit the wall. Somehow I did not fall despite the tremble in my legs, the sickness in my gut.

My eyes closed. I welcomed the dark, my mind not again showing me the hideous thing, the hideous, handsome man I served. The black swallowed me and I breathed in the air, ghosts of tobacco and perfume and alcohol wafting up from the floor below.

Again I thought of myself less than four months before, my bright eyes in the mirror, my determination throbbing within my soul. Again I thought of myself back then, and I thought, what nightmare was I hunting?

The office door opened.

“Oh! You’re still here!” O’Tipp said. “I was afraid I’d have to track you down.”

I did not want to do it. I opened my eyes and shifted towards him. His beaming smile, so paternal, churned my stomach anew.

“I almost forgot,” he said, stepping towards me. “Your allowance.”

His gloveless hand gripped my wrist, his other shoved something into my palm. Damp hands, hands far too warm for this night, far too warm for what he’d been handling.

“You’ve done excellent work today, my boy.” O’Tipp patted my cheek. “I’m proud of you.”

I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t have a choice but to speak.

“Thank you sir,” I whispered.

As his eyes narrowed and his smile darkened, I almost thought - I don’t know what I thought. But he said nothing more. He stepped away, his hand lingering on my skin, and that was the last thing I truly knew before his office door slammed shut.

I could have left then, when my legs recovered their strength. I could have fled, and run down the street, and never looked back. And yet within my disjointed soul, I understood something almost instinctive - I should not be alone right now, not after that.

My feet carried me to the balcony. I sat on the floor, and watched the people below.

To be part of society and yet apart from it. Yes, I knew that very well, as my cruel grandparents taught me, as I knew now as a different kind of man. A separation from humanity, a barrier put between me and anyone that could have, in another life, loved me. Yes, I understood that. Perhaps it helped me understand them.

How happy they all were, down there. How sweet the woman, a different one now, sang her songs of love and loss. How the people moved between tables, greeting friends. How they clinked their fancy drinks in fancier glasses together.

A sample of humanity, together. All those colors of clothes and hair and skin, together. Like the world beyond did not exist, like there was not an even bigger nightmare lurking at the edges of the horrors we all pretended not to think about.

A Deep One. A living thing that was not human. Something below the surface of the ocean waves. A god. A cult - another damned cult, of course there would be. Could I not escape them? A small amount of distance allowed me to think of it more. So long as I did not picture the book, I could wonder about it. What was a Deep One? What kind of a life did a thing like that have? Did it have a family? Did it have friends? Did it feel love, as humans did?

Was it still alive, even as a book?

In my soul, I ached. Not for the dead, but for me, taken from my home just as the book was.

My gaze drifted, my thoughts eased to a crawl. Down there, down on the floor, I saw him. I did not truly understand what I saw, but I did, I saw him, and he saw me. I let myself blink, focus, in time to see his lips curl into a smile. Dark skin, red clothes, sharp eyes.

He knew me. I knew him. No one else might understand. No one else could understand, I think, that little jolt of electricity that surged within me. That little taste of… hope, perhaps. He knew me, he knew of me, I knew him, knew of him. That brilliant man with his glittering grin. We were both born women. We were both skilled in our fields despite our ages. We were both connected to this nightmare in ways others could not understand.

I tilted my hat to him. He raised his glass to me.

As he disappeared into the crowd, I left.

The city struggled through the night, and the old blood had wrecked my vest. I buttoned up my jacket over it. I’d survived another mission, somehow, by that monster I am bound to serve. There’s a lot of ways to die in this town, and not all of them involve a bullet.

I was so tired of thinking about that. That money he gave me rested heavy in my pocket.

Little detour and then, to home I went. To the Witch House, where I’d lived since arriving in Arkham. O’Tipp bought it too, along with me. Sure enough, on that battered old porch, they waited for me. The old gate creaked as I shoved it open. A set of bright eyes behind round glasses looked up from the book she’d been reading aloud. Sadie, my partner in crime, my sister in soul, Sadie, jumped from her chair.

“Lazarus!” Her arms wrapped around me and I hugged her tight right back, and the grin that formed threatened to split my face in two. “You’re alright!”

Couldn’t help but laugh a little at that.

“Well, mostly,” I said.

On the porch, the other woman hadn’t moved, rocking back and forth in her chair. Her hands in her lap, her hair fallen past the bandages over her eyes, her focus all on me. She smiled, and I could taste the hope that radiated from her.

“I got a surprise for you guys,” I said, and reached into my pocket.

I can imagine what O’Tipp would say, spending so much of my allowance on candy like a child. But what did I care about his thoughts? It was more than a snack for my two favorite girls, it was an offering for their happiness. For my happiness. What was the point of going through this nightmare, if you couldn’t be happy every now and then?

Overhead the fat moon sat and watched it all. I settled into one of the chairs, let myself relax for the first time since the sun rose that morning. Soon, the others who lived in this ancient building would return, and we all could rest for the first time in hours. But underneath the sound of the summer night and my sister’s voice, I heard the pages turning.

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allzelemonz · 1 year

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Never Again: Kieran Duffy X Bill Williamson

Fictober Prompt: Day 4, Hurt/Comfort Pairing Type: M/M Rating: T/Language, References to sex Warnings: Referenced/Implied forced prostitution, trauma, mentions of past torture, the tongs, Dutch is an asshole, soft Bill Williamson, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, protective bahavior, hugs, internalized homophobia, Bill is at war with himself Summary: Kieran finds himself forced into something he doesn’t want to do in order to make money for camp, Bill is there to keep that from happening.

Kieran has never quite been this nervous. He is, of course, usually nervous given the series of bad events that is his life, but nothing compares to standing outside of Dutch’s tent while he speaks with Hosea about him. Hosea was the one to approach him, telling him that Dutch wants him to start bringing in money instead of just caring for the horses. He invited him to speak with the both of them, just to figure out what he’s good at.

Dutch was not all that impressed by the horses and the fishing.

So now Kieran simply waits, standing outside and wringing his hands in a feeble effort to get his nerves out. Just a moment ago, Dutch had spoken loud enough for him to hear and it made his heart drop. Dutch had mentioned what some of the girls do in town and Kieran can guess what he means. He knows he looks smaller than most men when he slouches, he has a slighter frame, things that are appealing to men not wholly interested in women. Fat Tommy said as much when he brought him to town with him the first time.

Kieran made good money that night. Tommy was the only one who saw it, he pocketed every cent. And the next week, when Kieran no longer had that slight limp, it all happened again. Never again. That was one of the first upsides he thought of when he was mildly accepted here. It seems he may have been wrong to hope.

Dutch exits the tent, sparing Kieran only a passing glance before he scans the camp in the dark. “Bill!” He shouts, finding him to be the only one awake and nearby.

Bill jumps, having been half asleep, but he scurries at Dutch’s word. “Yeah, boss?”

Kieran’s knuckles have turned white as he holds his hands together tightly. Anything but town. Anything but town.

“Take our O’Driscoll here into town.” Dutch instructs. “I’m sure you can figure out the best places for him.”

Bill is taken aback at Dutch’s statement, thinking he hid his weekly visits into town rather well. “W-What do ya mean by that, Dutch?”

“We all know you’re familiar with working boys, Mister Williamson. There’s no shame in it.” Dutch sighs. “Just get a move on.”

Kieran’s heart sinks at the confirmation. “M-Mister, there’s gotta be somethin’ else-”

“I want money tonight. Enough to justify feedin’ you for the next week.”

Bill, for all the beer in his belly, knows that look on Dutch’s face. He tugs Kieran by the arm. “Come on, O’Driscoll.”

Kieran stumbles, but falls in line behind Bill. They walk to the horses, Branwen and Brown Jack had taken to each other recently, though Kieran hardly has time to think of why right now. Bill mounts his larger horse and stares down at Kieran as he stalls, giving Branwen a treat. He should yell at him, tell him to hurry up, but Kieran is always so damn cute when he dotes on the horses that all Bill can make himself do is clear his throat.

Kieran flinches, jumping just slightly. He’s on edge more than usual, this is the last thing he ever wants to do. But Bill staring down at him makes him nervous. He wishes Bill would show that mild kindness he did when he offered him a drink the other week. In all honesty, Kieran thinks a hug from the burly man would do him a world of good. Former torturer or not. He’s long gotten over the tongs at this point, favoring the good parts of Bill instead. But even with all of that, the eyes on him are threatening enough to make him mount up and follow Bill without a word.

The ride is quiet, the nightly noises of crickets and other bugs thriving in the southern humidity being the only noise. Even the horses have light steps, as if they sense the unease. Bill has only ever paid for a working boy before, he’s certainly never managed one and Kieran didn’t exactly sound particularly willing. Every time he has gone to that place in Saint Denis the boys all seem in good moods, never hesitating to tell him how big and strong he is or to run hands over his broad chest with smiles on their faces. He can’t picture Kieran like that. Kieran is sweet, timid, something Bill finds himself wanting to protect.

So he pulls on the reins, making Brown Jack stop near the Gray’s place.

“Mister?” Kieran says, his voice shaky.

Bill doesn’t like that. He used to. He used to enjoy the O’Driscoll’s whining and pleading, the way he would stumble over his words and sound so unsure if he was going to keep his life. No, Bill hates that now. All he wants is to comfort him when he sounds like that.

“You wanna do this, O’Driscoll?”

Kieran feels his chest relax, the knot of nerves disappearing at the question. “No, mister, I don’t.”

Bill stares down at Brown Jack’s mane. Kieran brushed it this morning, it looks nice and soft, certainly clearer than it was before. Bill does not consider himself a smart man, but he knows this world of deviance and inverts at the very least. He knows the money Kieran might expect to make after a night of flirting with men in a saloon and he knows he has enough to cover as much, so he turns Brown Jack into the trees.

“Come on then.” He says, trying not to sound as angry as he is.

He is loyal to Dutch, but in this moment Bill has no problems disobeying orders. He is angry with his beloved boss for thinking he could push this on Kieran. Not Kieran, not while I’m here. He does feel stupid as they walk through the trees. He shouldn’t care about some scrawny stable boy. Hell, he shouldn’t have ever started making those visits to Saint Denis and giving into the sickness in his head. It’s wrong, he’s wrong, he’s broken and disgusting. But it is a man’s job to protect the weak. And that is the justification he repeats in his head.

“Where, uh, where’re we goin’?” Kieran asks.

He has his hopes. Anywhere but one of those awful saloons or brothels. But Bill isn’t the most predictable feller. He could be leading him to his death or more torment, but Kieran pushes those thoughts away. Bill’s been nice since the gang moved camp, sweet even, maybe he has some way out of this.

Bill dismounts, just shy of a clearing and begins to pull his camping setup from his saddle. “We’ll stay here ‘n I’ll give Dutch some money in the mornin’.”

Kieran’s heart flips. “Yer not makin’ me go?”

“You said ya didn’t wanna.” Bill grumbles, stalking over the middle of the clearing.

Kieran slides out of his saddle and watches Bill fiddle with the tent canvas for a moment. “Thank you.”

Bill looks up, glad for the darkness as he feels heat in his cheeks from looking at Kieran. He coughs and grunts, brushing it off and forcing himself to look away from the other man.

“Can I help?” Kieran asks, taking careful steps towards Bill.

“I got it.” Bill huffs. “Just… relax.”

Let me take care of you.

Bill pushes the thought aside. He’s just helping a man down on his luck. It’s not because he’s pretty or because he has a soft voice or because, as much as Bill regrets having seen them in such a context, he has a nice set. Just… being helpful. That’s all.

“Oh, okay.” Kieran mutters, wringing his hands again.

For a moment he watches Bill, focusing on the way his fingers fumble like he’s never seen before, then on his arms and the way they look so tight against the flannel sleeves. Kieran turns around, not wanting his thoughts to wander there tonight. Bill is being nice, it’s best not to change that. Kieran busies himself with tending to the horses, giving treats and removing their saddles for the night.

Without Kieran staring at him, Bill is able to get camp together rather quickly. He has a small fire going, the tent pitched, it’s only when he picks up his bedroll that he stalls. With a glance, he finds that Kieran doesn’t carry a bedroll on his saddle. Why would he, he never leaves camp. Bill can feel his face flushing and his fingers squeeze at the soft fabric in his hand. He can sleep on the ground, it’s not a big deal. Kieran can have it.

“You alright there, mister?” Kieran asks as he approaches.

Bill shakes his head slightly, trying to rid certain thoughts from his mind. Then he tosses Kieran the bedroll. “Here.”

Kieran catches it, not very steadily, but he does. “Fer me? I-I’m fine on the ground, I don’t even really lie down anymore.”

“Just take it, O’Driscoll.” Bill says, regretting the harsh tone of voice when Kieran’s shoulders hunch. “Just… I ain’t sleepin’ anyway.”

Kieran just nods, not wanting to make Bill any more upset. He shuffles past the large man who now stares at the fire and lays the bedroll down inside the little tent. Then he turns, looking over Bill for a moment before deciding to sit next to him. “Thank you. Fer all a’ this.”

Bill grunts in response, his hand already pulling out the spare beer he keeps with him.

“Why, um, why are ya helpin’ me?”

Bill bites the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a reason, but he comes up with nothing so he just takes a swig of his beer.

“I appreciate it is all.” Kieran mumbles.

It would be so easy for Bill to tug Kieran closer, to hold him like he wants to. Hell, it would even be easy to insist on sharing the bedroll. They both need sleep after all. But that nagging in his mind tells him it’s wrong, so he clenches his fist in his lap instead.

The crackling of the fire fills the silence until Kieran works up a bit of courage. “I do wanna make money fer the camp, just not like that.” He sighs. “The O’Driscolls… they used to make me do that.”

Bill barley stops himself from gripping the bottle in his hand tight enough to break it. He can hardly breathe either. “What?” He says, sharper than he means to.

“I didn’t wanna!” Kieran says, startled by Bill’s tone. “It was that er a bullet, so…”

Bill can see Kieran slightly shake, the way the other man hugs himself in an effort to sooth. It doesn’t seem to be working. That nagging in his brain tells him it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t hold another man, but he has such an urge to make sure Kieran is okay. That instinct wins out and he drops his beer so he can pull Kieran close to him.

Kieran stills for a light second, his mind taking the time to register the large arms around him and the sheer comfort they bring. Bill is warm, soft, everything an outlaw probably shouldn’t be and it makes Kieran never want to be let go. He buries his face into Bill’s shoulder, putting his arms around Bill in return and just enjoying the comfort.

“Ya ain’t never doin’ that again.” Bill whispers, his voice not quite made to be so gentle or quiet. “I’m makin’ sure a’ it.”

Kieran almost feels the need to cry. He’s never quite been held like this. So secure, so safe. Bill’s hand presses circles into his back and his beard brushes against the side of his neck, he wishes Bill had done this sooner. As soon as he got off that stupid tree maybe. That would’ve been nice. But he has him now. They have each other.

#kieran duffy x bill williamson #kieran duffy #bill williamson #bieran #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #ship #ship fic #fictober

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marley-manson · 5 months

Text

scattered thoughts on season 2 of xena after marathoning it over a few nights.

-- Girls Just Wanna Have Fun is so fun lmao, it didn't even occur to me that the vampire ladies could've been hypnotizing Gab until I saw it mentioned in a tumblr post lol, I 100% just took it as Gabrielle being attracted to them. I mean one of them even has a buzzcut.

-- Xena is great because it's a true genderswapped cheesy genre show, complete with extremely bland one episode love interests who die to provide our heroes with manpain. Also Xena totally subconsciously let Callisto kill Perdicus, come on. Loved Gab's rage afterwards <3

-- Lucy Lawless and Hudson Leick are excellent at playing each other. Hudson Leick is so good as Xena that I always forget Lucy Lawless isn't actually in Ten Little Warlords lol, and Lucy Lawless' Callisto is great too, especially when she's playing Callisto pretending to be Xena.

-- Love Ares' first episode as a mortal too. Love that he's scared of rats, a decent fighter but still needs Xena to save him a few times, and the moment where he contemplates having actual blood on his hands for the first time is *chef kiss*

-- I'd skipped Miss Amphipolis when I first watched Xena because I'd heard it was transphobic, and then saw a post praising the episode for its progressiveness so I was like hm I guess I'll give it a shot. Honestly, it had its good elements, but yeah I think the criticism is warranted. Awesome if it's true that Karen Dior was openly HIV+ when she and Lucy Lawless kissed here, love that. And if the idea was that Miss Artiphys was more a drag queen than a trans woman it's not too bad I guess? But if she was meant to be trans then yikes, terrible depiction, lots of 'he's really a man' shit (plus the name c'mon). And the lack of clarity doesn't help either way.

Also Gabrielle's mild homophobia was a weird choice, and I didn't like that she only won after every other woman turned down the crown lol - I get the point that none of them really wanted it or enjoyed the pageant while Artiphys did, but I feel like that point could've been made without putting her in last place.

Kudos to the director for objectifying her just as much as any other woman though lol.

-- They should've given a little bit more time to Xena and M'lila's relationship in Destiny, since her death is the catalyst for her going evil, but unfortunately it felt like a very arbitrary final straw. It was funny though that M'lila died for her because she just knew it wasn't Xena's time to die yet lol. Like c'mon, at least imply they got close off-screen.

-- Also Xena 🤝 Dennis Reynolds: because of the implication. I'm actually torn on how much that's intended lol, because on the one hand they certainly do not frame Xena as an actual rapist here, she's still sympathetic and Caesar's still the ruthless villian. But on the other hand the predator/prey metaphor when she was coming onto him was incredibly on the nose (she even says "cutting off his path of retreat" like, yikes girl); Xena later points out that crucifying her was an overreaction and thinks she must've fucked with his head; Caesar has psychosexual nightmares about her in another later ep (ie killing him mid sex basic instinct style); and Caesar's "all those who prey on Rome" line is basically the payoff to his earlier "I am Rome" thing, essentially a coded way of phrasing "prey on me," which fits the sex thing more than the hostage thing, since that was literally preying on Rome.

Idk, I'm curious what the writers were aiming for here. Maybe some of it's just meant to suggest that Caesar has a crush and is mad about it lol, but it's eyebrow raising.

-- Also also: the montage of Gab and Xena at the end of Destiny is so ridiculously romantic <3

-- I love that Xena agrees to only possess Autolycus when he gives her permission, then bodyjacks him whenever he says no anyway. Autolycus is a delight in this ep. And I love how the show does everything it can to make it clear that it's Xena kissing Gabrielle in Autolycus' body, from Bruce Campbell's acting demonstrating exactly when he regains control of himself, to his "Seems like you two worked things out" in repsonse to the kiss, to him not noticing his hand was still on Gab's ass lmao.

-- A Day in the Life is still such a ridiculously good episode.

-- Can't believe how almost explicitly gay Blind Faith is even with the rest of season 2 to compare it to. Like okay maybe it's not quite The Quest's kiss, but something about Gabrielle's conversation with the gay dude where they both very overtly use ambiguous pronouns for the people they love feels like a step beyond. It's not just two close characters who love each other, it's lesbians situated specifically in a gay solidarity context, idk. I love it.

-- Also I cite this a lot but idc, I still fucking LOVE that Xena is temporarily rendered blind in this episode and she is still never physically challenged by anyone in a fight lmao. Like you'd think as a plotpoint it would be a way to have her uncharacteristically defenseless and reliant on this one-ep dude to defend her, right? Nope, she still outclasses him, all she needs him for is to watch out for cliff edges.

-- Also also I love that this annoying dude sees her as an idol and it's just accepted as obvious, absolutely no commentary on a dude modeling himself after a woman. She's Xena, of course aspiring warlords desperately wanna be her.

-- Ulysses here to reassure the straight audience after the tidal wave of gay we've seen in the last few episodes, but it can't even do that right because Gabrielle and Xena still 100% interact like they're hooking up and catching feelings but not exclusive.

-- The Price would be a perfect episode if it weren't for the racism in the depiction of the antagonist force, man, it's such a blot on an ideal Xena story. Also Xena is at her absolute sexiest here. I'm usually more of a Gab girl, but fuuuuuuck her hardass sadistic commander persona has me like 🥵. Hits the perfect balance of serious and dark, while her warlord flashbacks tend to be a little too exaggerated and campy to be truly sexy to me.

-- Also another episode where I love how men relate to Xena. She shows up, they find out she's Xena, and they immediately go "holy shit please take over, please command us, you're our only hope."

-- Cecrops is one of my favourite one-ep characters I think

-- Comedy of Eros is dumb but fun lol, I always enjoy how the show flips the script for Xena's occasional heterosexual turns, in the sense that she's the active participant, acting upon the men and going for what she wants. It is a relief when it stops being earnest and starts being solely for the sake of manipulation though lol, and I'm glad we have Cupid to blame for this one too. In fact, I think all the genuine reciprocated het is behind us now, right?

-- I love the fake out where Gabrielle nearly sees Xena first before Joxer gets in the way. I feel like I've seen some writer say once that they considered having Gabrielle fall in love with Xena for this episode, but they decided against it because they didn't want it to be a joke she gets over, and I am 100% behind that reasoning. It would've felt cheap imo. But the tease was cute lol, they know what the audience wants.

#xena #marley on xena #text post #didn't really want to liveblog as i watched but now i feel like this is too long so idk...

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wangxianficfinder · 2 years

Text

Immortal Wangxian

~*~

nothing short of grace by lesbianspirals (M, 44k, wangxian, immortal LWJ, reincarnation, angst w/ happy ending, friends to lovers, getting together, sharing a bed, hurt/comfort)

so you’ve been robbed by a museum by yukla (M, 5k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, yearning tm, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, immortal cultivators in a modern world, JC is a good brother, WWX has a couple self-worth issues)

Persistence of Memory by Admiranda (M, 41k, wangxian, canon compliant, post-canon, past life character death, reincarnation, immortal WWX, immortal LSZ, coming of age)

The Future is Ours to Keep series by makebelieveanything & nerdzeword (T, 25k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & YZY, JYL/LQY/WQ, post-canon, modern, immortality, reincarnation, healthy family relationships, epistolary, groupchats, fluff)

“It’s Heating Up in the Cold Springs of Gusu Lan! You Won’t Believe This Artwork Really Exists!” by Admiranda (M, 5k, WangXian, present day, the dangers of immortality, include forgetting what you stored and where, grown child trying to not think about their parents having sex, Immortality, sizhui is having a day)

🧡All Old Things are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (M, 51k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Modern AU, canon still happened, extreme post canon, Sugar Daddy, Kink Negotiation, gentle dom!LWJ, canonical levels of consent play, Modern Cultivators, cultivators can recognize important people from previous lives, vaguely, this started out as a cute sugar fantasy and got just incredibly horny very fast, blame LWJ)

Wandering Souls, Wild Ghosts by belleweather (E, 49k, wangxian, post-canon, victorian au, case fic, rentboys, smut, married wangxian, immortality, canon-typical violence, period-typical sexism & racism & homophobia, voyeurism, families of choice)

❤️love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, immortal WWX, slow burn, pining, arranged marriage, Mojo’s post)

the recluse at the end of the moonlit path by beesinspades (T, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Post-Canon, Jack of All Trades Artist WWX, Immortal! LWJ, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Reunions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Asexual Character, good vibes, [Podfic] the recluse at the end of the moonlit path by b_ofdale by Beria1021)

I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian, post-canon, memory loss, immortal LWJ, hurt/comfort, curses, reunions, intimacy, fluff, yearning, angst w/ happy ending)

dark and glimmering by Sanguis (T, 5k, wangxian, post-canon, modern, technology malfunction, established relationship, married couple, immortality)

Thirty-three Lashes by Winglesss (E, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Reincarnation, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Nightmares, Ghosts, Curses, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Memory Loss)

ridiculous future bullshit series by sami (T, 47k, wangxian, WQ/JC/LXC, LZS/other(s), future fic, modern)

Monotone by seredemia (Not on AO3 anymore but you can read it on Google docs through a link posted by author themselves)

Closer Than Eternity by Netrixie (T, 26k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, an unhealthy addiction to starbucks, Immortals, cultivation is -kinda- commonplace, Self-Doubt, POV Alternating, Minor Original Character(s), Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, not for jc fans, This is not a reconciliation fic)

🧡We Were Never Strangers by NeverEnoughWangxian (M, 36k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Modern Cultivators, POV WWX, (mostly), College Student WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Immortal LWJ, Immortal LSZ, Dreams, Pining, Sharing a Bed, brief mentions of wwx's past death(s), WangXian.mp3, Getting Together, I guess getting back together technically, Happy Ending, Sexual Tension, Sexual Content)

Chapter 5: Win for the Gays of Short Prompts by Vrishchika (M, 40k, WangXian, Oneshot Collection, Separate Tags for Each Chapter, LSZ POV, Modern AU, Immortal Cultivators)

The Chinese Garden Court by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Reincarnation, Immortality, Museums)

不忘 | Don't Forget by dragongirlG (E, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Reincarnation, Fix-It of Sorts, Identity Porn, Social Media, Devotion, Reunions, Feelings, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Bondage, Names, References to Canon, Modern Era, Artist WWX, Sexual Content, Pining, POV Multiple, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

Keep Me on Your Pillow by catbrainedschemes (E, 41k, WangXian, Fantasy, Pillow Book AU, high immortal!LWJ, red fox!wwx, Pining, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Feelings, First Meetings, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, First Kiss, Oblivious!WWX, oblivious!LWJ, Sexual Tension, Hero Worship, Falling In Love)

4018 by sweetlolixo (E, 28k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, A/B/O Dynamics, Older LWJ, Immortal LWJ, Pregnant WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Age Difference, Boypussy, Vaginal Fingering, Dry Humping, Knotting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talking LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Size Difference, Feminization)

Oh Sweet Sentinel by A_Tired_Writer (M, 3k, wangxian, POV Second Person, Reincarnation, Canon Compliant, Immortal LWJ, Character Study)

🔒Help!!! I’m a Broke College Student How Did I End Up With a (Hot) Amnesiac Sword Spirit For a Sugar Baby??!?? by spookykingdomstarlight (M, 43k, WangXian, Modern AU, Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Non-Linear Narrative, Temporary Amnesia, Canonical Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Reincarnation, Magical Artifacts, College Student WWX, Sword Spirit LWJ, shoujo elements, Wacky Hijinks and Anguish, Minor Fake/Pretend Relationship Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Embedded Images)

~*~

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #wangxian #MDZS #wangxianficfinder compilation post #long post #immortal wangxian #immortal wei wuxian #immortal lan wangji

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manstrans · 1 year

Note

someone said on that post that trans men’s identities will be seen and respected by the majority

what world are these people living in

people are just outright denying transphobia exists as a whole at this point by acting like only one kind of trans people get it.

i guess any suicidal trans mascs need to man up and not make such a big deal. i guess any of us who went through that were deluding ourselves into thinking that society will reject us and that we may end up abandoned by families. all my family members were quick to get to call me a guy.

none of them ever accused me of saying anything perverted that I never said when I came out to my little cousin. or harassed me with my dead name. told me i was tied to my bones and when they dig me up in the future they would say i am a woman. that would just be mild discomfort though really if that did happen

getting harassed online, being called an ugly woman or a dyke or a deluded little girl (adults or not) all results in said mild discomfort. it is very easily brushed aside at the end of the day. it has no impact on mental health for people to say your top surgery scars make you look like frankenstein’s monster. people do not think a “beautiful woman” is being lost when trans mascs transition. because if people hate women, they would be totally fine with the idea of one “abandoning it”. instead of staying as pretty women that aren’t too much gnc. because a man doesn’t want to be with someone who looks like a lesbian

trans mascs never find struggle trying to get reproductive care because they are not being taken seriously. or ever had cases where doctors were late to diagnosing cancers due to this as well. because putting M down would mean anything to do with differing sex organs from cis men would not be ignored. that this is not the case for every trans person. that we do not have the issue in common of facing transphobia, and in this the shared experience of cissexism as well, in medical spheres

trans mascs never get misdiagnosed with borderline personality disorder when psychs misgender us as woman and think us being trans is the “identity disturbance” symptom. this doesn’t get any resulting impact from ableism, as personality disorders then will get you branded as a doomed person by many psychs.

people never try to fear monger trans mascs into thinking tesosterone is going to turn you into a violent, angry brute. the show The L Word never perpetuated this idea to millions of mostly cis queer women watching.

Boys Don’t Cry isn’t based off a true story. No trans masculine person can ever be rape victims as well. Or if they were, the perpetuator would never bring up the person being trans masculine as a reason.

i never saw terfs talking about correctively raping trans mascs back into lesbians

homophobia is faced by both gay men and lesbians. if anyone said gay men never facehomophobia i would ask them if they actually learned our history. or only snippets

if told that is not the same, I think they should look up Lou Sullivan for the intersection of being trans masc and gay. ask some trans mascs stories about going into bath houses and what happened when accused of being women in there. that this never led to anxiety over a consensual sexual interaction in being accused of rape for “tricking” a gay man into having sex with a “straight woman”? the trans panic defense ever comes up as a known concern in these cases

alright yeah the sarcasm is evident here.

just how do they not realize that implying that trans mascs do not experience transphobia with this is the actual terminally online take? holy shit.

either that or they get to live in a more generally progressive city and not a white suburb in the US. while also being not white. btw you don’t have any reason to think any of these problems may be emphasized if you are brown or black.

any response to this about accusing us of biological essentialism is victim blaming. what is being described are the consequences of biological essentialism that we both endure. we cannot ignore its existence. I wish we could. but transphobes won’t let us. because we challenge the fact and show that it isn’t true

YEAH I just read through this and like. everything in it. people in these echo chambers think a few snappy lines outweigh our lived experiences but it doesn't work that way at all

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kahuna-burger · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2 of my contribution to the summer hydra husbands event by @hydra-husbands

Oh Oh Those Summer Nights

Warnings : None

Pairing : Hydra husbands (of course)

Characters : Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins, Jasper Sitwell, Phil Coulson, mostly unnamed STRIKE team OCs

Other tags : Pre canon, mild identity porn, under cover operations, SHIELD compartmentalizing like crazy, implied homophobia, possible internalized homophobia, epistolary (email)

Summary : Tell Email me more! Tell Email me more!

<a href="html://www.tumblr.com/kahuna-burger/727100817162797056/">Chapter 1 : Happened So Fast</a>

Chapter 2 : Had me a blast

To : <shitheads>

From : [email protected]

Re : no more candy striping

So, good news/bad news… Bad news is that I'm gonna be officially in charge of all you useless fucks once everyone clears medical. The Bosses are adding to the team rather than splitting us up, and I get to sign all the reports instead of just writing them for that fuckwad Stein, may he rest in peace cause I sure don't want him back.

Good news is that I'm not sitting on my thumbs anymore waiting for you slackers to get off your asses, and got sent on surveillance instead. And without talking out of turn I can tell you that I'm working in a god damned tourist trap. Got fucking fake credentials for a job I'm overqualified for because "I'm a damned Navy SEAL, yeah I can teach that" would break character.

Anyway, point is, you slugs gotta find someone else to bring you treats and books like some sort of high security clearance door dash, and I'm not sorry I had to leave too fast to say goodbye in person.

To : <gamma>

From : [email protected]

Re : might not be buying the drinks

So in my continuing saga of "the undercover assignment that might be a stealth vacation or possibly a weird internal psyop" the area of the resort under construction finally opened, which means I may lose my bet that this is about money laundering. Say "la vie," I guess, but it's actually really nice looking. Will definitely check it out in a couple of days when the initial crush dies down.

Actually, that could be the thing that makes me blow my cover - "resort town slacker local with rich parents" isn't usually hard to keep up, but I don't know how well I can fake incompetence when some college kid with a 2 week certification gives me the "safety training" this new attraction requires.

Anyway, no I continue to have no beach and/or snow bunnies, I'm on assignment, no matter how vague. Hope everyone's doing well, congratulations on the physical therapy milestone, Murphy!

-Jack

#hydrahusbandssummer2023 #hydra husbands #brock rumlow #jack rollins #fic #chapter 2 had me a blast #email me more email me more

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angstyandromanticwriting · 7 months

Text

‘Louisiana Rose’ (an OC) X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute and Fluffy Prompt

• Rose’s face claim is Margot Robbie as Nellie Laroy

• Inspired partly by Daisy Jones & The Six

• There will be more!

!TW: Implied presence of alcohol, being pregnant (experiencing accidental pregnancy), insult, violence, implied sexual occurrence(s) + nudity, swearing, implied having to face homophobia, implied previously being attacked/harassed (for sexuality), implied self-doubt, self put-down(s), implied suffering from depression + anxiety + separation anxiety, mention of being abandoned by family + poorly treated + being forced into being homeless, mention of having an alcohol and drug addiction, implied previously self-harming + trying to commit suicide, mild sexual harassment/assault, mention of previously being manipulated/used - If I’ve missed any, let me know ❤️!

“Hey - I was looking for you,” Rose stated, whilst grinning over at you, and you would smirk up at her whilst she briefly looked around to make sure that the others were distracted - as they were all privately celebrating together yet another successful concert - worried about them watching, though they already knew about you both, obviously, before she leaned on the bar counter; they’d voted for you to be the cocktail mixer as you’d done it before, and were evidently more experienced at doing it than they were, “do you remember what today is?”

“I know exactly what day it is,” you answered, and she would express relief, before grinning whilst she giggled a little, appearing somewhat flustered whilst you smiled warmly over at her, finding her reaction to be adorable, “Happy Anniversary, Rose.”

She would beam over at you, before intertwining the fingers of her right hand with the fingers of your left one whilst her eyes blissfully locked with your’s in the best way possible. “H-Happy Anniversary, Bassey,” she returned, before smirking again, recalling her plans for the night, “so - your gift is upstairs waiting for you, would you wanna-?” You would grin over at her, guessing immediately what she was trying to do. “Wait, let me try that again,” she mused, and you would lift your eyebrows a little in response to her remark.

“Take your time,” you replied gently, and she would nod slowly whilst she thought her next move over, and silently analysed it, until she felt as if it would work on you.

“I’ve got it-!” She chimed, evidently pleased with herself, and you would tilt your head partially whilst you couldn’t help, but beam back at her, glad she’d come up with another way to try and seduce you. “Do you need a place to stay for the night? Because I’ve got room for two, and a surprise for you,” she remarked, before winking over at you, and you would appear shocked whilst blood rushed to your cheeks, and Rose would smirk over at you again, guessing that it had worked on you the way she had been hoping it would.

“I’d love one,” you answered whilst you held - also - her left hand in your right one; you both loved to make contact of any kind, especially after everything that had been happening recently with her and Joel as it served as a reminder that she hadn’t given up on you, and still somehow loved you the way that you loved, and would always love her, “there’s just one thing - I managed to also leave a surprise for you in your room.”

“Wow - you must be a little ninja because I never noticed you come in and do that,” she teased, and you would giggle, before shrugging as if she were potentially correct with her assumption, “come on, let’s go - this party is getting pretty boring anyway.”

“So true, and I’m absolutely bursting to show you what I found for you,” you answered, and she would beam over at you again, whilst you allowed her to lead you hurriedly toward the door once you’d reluctantly released her left hand from your right one, and Rod would grunt when he noticed that you had both disappeared already whilst Joel would appear to be fuming; he couldn’t believe Rose had decided to stay with you even after she’d found out that she was pregnant with his child, and hadn’t yet told you as she’d been afraid that the news would hurt you.

“Well - we may as well begin packing up,” Rod stated, “Rose and Y/n are already gone, and let’s face it Rose was the life of the party-”

“Hey,” Eddie complained, “I’m supposed to be the life of the party.”

“Then have a few more drinks and give us a show,” Rod demanded playfully, and Eddie would grin, before nodding, and making another round of drinks himself for the group since you’d gone, making sure that the drink he had made for Suki was not an alcoholic one; she’d told him secretly about her pregnancy, and he’d reluctantly promised not to tell anyone else.

“I can’t believe them,” Joel uttered whilst he stared down at his glass sulkily, and Suki would grimace, guessing he was talking about you and Rose again, whilst he was supposedly infatuated with Suki like he had told her he was, “I mean - I’m the one who put a baby in Louisiana, and she won’t even look my way-”

“That’s because you’re not the one she’s in love with,” Suki interjected, “can’t you see it, Joel? Rose and Y/n are, and have always been in love, ever since Y/n joined the band I could tell that they had something going on between them-”

“Whatever,” Joel spat, “it’s not right-”

Suki then found she couldn’t hold herself back anymore as she lifted her non-alcoholic drink up, and would spill it on him, startling him. “Y’know what? Screw you, Joel,” she hissed, “you’re the one who isn’t right.”

She would then storm out, angrier than she’d ever been before; she couldn’t believe he was being like this - sulking over Rose - whilst he and her were meant to be in love, like you and Rose were, and always would be. “Suki, wait!” Joel cried, before rushing out after her, and Rod would sigh heavily, before turning to his brother.

“This band’s falling apart,” he mused, and Eddie would wince, whilst setting two drinks down in front of Rod, and the other two down in front of him since Suki and Joel had now gone, “that’s why I never mix work and relationships together; they always mess everything up. Hey - Ed, when you finally find a guy - make sure he isn’t a part of the band if we ever introduce anyone new; we can’t have this happening again - oh, and don’t have a go at the press like Y/n did - we need them to like us, not to hate us even more.”

“Cheers to that,” Eddie replied, before gently and briefly connecting his glass to Rod’s, and taking a swig.

🜚

“As much as I’d love to stay here like this with you for the rest of my life, we can’t,” Rose mused dejectedly, and you would frown, before shaking your head gravely whilst you snuggled even closer to her, your legs around her waist in the best way possible - you’d both evidently been fooling around for a little while, naked with barely any gaps between you; you couldn’t get enough of one another, and you loved it, “we’ve gotta get up and meet with the others for that conference, remember? Those assholes are gonna be all questioning us again, and it’ll look suspicious if we’re not there with them, not that’ll it look any better if we’re late, either, so-”

“Please, Rose,” you begged, and she would frown, feeling bad, “let me at least try and give you a reason to stay in bed.”

“You can try later, Bassey, I promise,” she cooed, and you would shake your head, desperate to stay here with her - entangled with her in the best way possible, “we’ll be late if we don’t get ready, soon-”

“Who cares if we’re late? It doesn’t mean we’ve been together-”

“I know, but-.. Bassey-.. if they get suspicious of us again-”

“I know,” you tried to reassure her, your voice close to a whisper, and she would try not to feel guilty, wishing she could get the press to somehow change their minds about people like you and her engaging within same-sex relationships, “you-.. you’re worried about them hurting me again, but-..” You would then shake your head, before forcing a smile over at her, and connecting your forehead to her’s affectionately. “Don’t worry about it,” you gave in, “we’re not gonna be late, I promise.”

Rose would nod slowly whilst she smiled sadly over at you, and you would smile back at her lovingly, finding you couldn’t stop your smile from growing to be genuine whenever you were with her. “I love you, you - you know that, right?” She cooed, and you would nod, relieving her whilst she lifted her right hand up to your left cheek, prompting you to instantly melt into her touch whilst you blissfully locked eyes with her, your heart racing alongside her’s, and you forgetting how to breathe for a moment; you couldn’t believe it - that someone as perfect as her was still with you; still wasting her time on you as if you were more than what you were.

“I know,” you answered, your voice barely audible whilst you drew in a quiet shaky breath, wishing you could both stay like this forever alongside her as you knew she’d have to act all lovey-dovey with Joel again in front of the press in the matter of an hour, “I - I love you, too, a-and I always will, I promise, n-no matter what, a-and-.. even if you are-.. if you are pregnant with his child, I-.. I will always be here for you. You’re everything to me, Rose, a-and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

She would then wince upon remembering that she’d recently found out that she was pregnant, and hadn’t yet told you for fear of hurting you even more than she and Joel had been, recently, but she would try and hide her change in demeanour from you, distracting herself by beginning to play with your hair blissfully whilst she beamed warmly over at you, and wondered what she’d done to deserve someone as good as you, though you believed yourself to be nothing, compared to her, something she could never think about you, and cursed your family for doing by abandoning you, forcing you to live on the streets, as well as cursing her own parents for kicking you out of their home upon discovering Rose with you whilst you were wearing dirty rags, making you feel as if you weren’t, and could never be wanted by anyone, as if you were a freak of nature.

“I can’t imagine my life without you in it, either,” she expressed whilst she cuddled up closer to you as if you both weren’t close enough already, “I love you so much, a-and that’ll never change, I promise. H-Hey, I’m gonna see if we can sit together whilst the assholes question us; I don’t wanna be kept away from you again.”

“Don’t worry - we won’t be,” you cooed, before leaning forward to delicately connect your lips to her’s, and she would instantly melt into the kiss, “I won’t let them separate us again, no matter what.”

“Good,” she replied, “‘cause I wanna be stuck to you forever.”

You would smirk over at her, before giggling quietly, and burying your face into the crook of her neck comfortably, prompting her to giggle alongside you to hide that she was embarrassed at the way she was acting; you always got her being so cheesy, but at the same time she couldn’t help, but revel in it, and hope that these feelings would never change; that she’d never somehow end up losing you as she knew she wouldn’t be able to cope if she did, especially whilst she was pregnant with Joel’s child.

“You’re adorable,” you remarked, and she would try and hide her face from you whilst blood rushed up to her cheeks, and you would grin down at her.

“You’re more adorable,” she returned, and would wince when she noticed the time on the clock: 6:30pm - you would both need to start getting dressed now if you wanted to make it in time, “I hate to say it, but - we should get dressed, Bassey.”

You would sigh, wishing you could both stay like this, at least for a little while longer, but you knew Rod would most likely rant at you both if you tried, and so would begrudgingly give in. “You’re right,” you agreed, “I - I guess there’s always more time for snuggling when we get back.”

Rose would nod hastily, before sitting up after you whilst she wrapped her arms around your waist, and would rest her head upon your right shoulder. “Exactly,” she chimed, “and the sooner we leave, the faster we’ll be able to get back home, I promise.”

“I hope so,” you replied, whilst Rose would nuzzle at your neck a little subconsciously, instantly making you feel better, and as if you’d be able to somehow get through this, as you’d been previously fearing that maybe the press would again question you about your alcohol and drug addiction, as well as about Rose, but you knew that - with her beside you, you would be stronger than you ever had been before, and would be able to fight back against them as best you could as long as you knew she were with you.

“We will,” she insisted, “you trust me, right?”

“More than anything,” you answered truthfully, relieving her whilst she drew circles on your left shoulder with the thumb of her left hand, “well - I guess we better-.. get dressed, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” she responded dejectedly, before hesitantly getting up off of the bed, and you would force yourself to get up after her, “want me to help you get dressed, at least?”

You would appear flustered, before nodding your head without hesitation whilst your cheeks would heat up, and she would smirk over at you. “I - I’d love that,” you blurted out, “on one condition.”

She would lift an eyebrow, before inching closer to you whilst a mischievous glint would form in her stunning icy blue eyes, and she would wrap her arms around your waist again, flustering you further as her face was inches away from your’s to the point that her lips were verging on brushing against your’s, something you longed to happen again. “What is it?” She inquired, and you would grin over at her, before trailing your right hand a little up her back, amazed by how soft her skin was, but you loved it, just like you loved everything else about her.

“I’ll let you dress me as long as you let me dress you, though I do prefer you like this,” you remarked, and she would appear flustered again, before giggling softly alongside you, “s-so - will you?”

“Of course I will,” she answered, “how could I resist an offer like that? I’d be crazy to.”

“You probably would,” you agreed playfully, and she would beam over at you, glad that you hadn’t resorted to putting yourself down, instead, “c-c’mon - I’m excited!”

“I bet you are,” she teased, before following you into the bathroom within your hotel room so you could both help one another into the dresses you’d bought for each other for your and her anniversary; you and Rose often stayed in either your or her room together whenever you could to get away from the others, and to fool around here and there, as well as to cuddle up together occasionally before falling asleep blissfully within one another’s arms every time you did, and you both hoped it would always be that way - but luck wouldn’t always be on your side, making your and her aspirations more difficult to follow.

🜚

After Joel had decided to reveal that Rose had recently taken a pregnancy test turning out to be positive to the press, you would begin to feel empty all over again whilst you stared over at her dejectedly for a moment, and Rose would appear terrified all of a sudden whilst her eyes silently begged you to forgive her, and to stay, but it was painful to even remain sitting where you were alongside the others, and Eddie sitting beside you - Rod had evidently decided to separate you and Rose on purpose to avoid the press growing to be suspicious of you both again, and it was excruciating being this far away from her, even after you’d suddenly found out that she truly was pregnant; it had been confirmed now, not just by Joel, but by Rose, too; the look on her face was making it clear to you that this was the case.

Once the cheering from the press had all died down, Rod would request for another question, to which one of them held up their hand and called for his attention until he had selected them. “My question is for Y/n,” the man clarified, and you would tense up whilst tears began to cloud your vision, and a lump would form in your throat, “I’d like to know what her opinion is on Louisiana being pregnant-”

“That’s not important,” you mustered feebly, your voice briefly trembling whilst you stared down at your currently shaky, and much too pale hands, trying as best you could to keep yourself together, but you knew that if you tried to keep going you would soon break down, and you couldn’t let that happen in front of them; couldn’t offer them the satisfaction of seeing you hurt by their opinions and actions taken against you for being in love with Rose, another woman; for being a lesbian all your life. “W-Why would you even want to know about something like that?” You hissed, unable to hold it back, and Eddie would try and provide comfort to you by patting your back with his left hand, prompting you to grimace over at him, before moving away. “Fuck off, Ed,” you spat, before you got up, and would storm away from the others, and abusive crowd as the majority of them shot insults at you whilst you rushed off of the stage, and into the women’s toilets where you allowed yourself to break down, and to cry within one of the stalls whilst you silently longed for Rose to find you, and to keep you safe within the warmth of her embrace even after you’d suddenly been made aware of her confirmed pregnancy, and that she had been recently lying to you again; you loved her too much to blame her for anything that had recently occurred, especially when you knew - already - that you were extremely lucky to have her waste her time on a supposed nobody like you.

🜸

“I’ve gotta go and find her,” Rose mused faintly, before hastily getting up out of her seat after you had rushed off, terrifying her as she feared that maybe you’d try and hurt yourself again, or worse - try and take your life again, “you guys stays here-”

“Are you crazy!?” Rod interjected, and she would scowl over at him whilst Joel would act as if he were trying to comfort her by rubbing her back with his left arm, only frustrating her further, but she knew it would be suspicious of her to move away so she would try and remain in place uncomfortably.

“I am when it comes to Y/n, a-and the possibility of her risking her life,” Rose retorted, before rushing off of the stage after you whilst Joel would try and think up an excuse for her.

“Sorry, guys - I reckon it’s time I went on sick duty,” he remarked, before going out after her, and Rose would try and search every room that she possibly could, hoping against hope that you hadn’t gone too far, and back out onto the street where she knew it would take longer to try and track you down due to having to force the way through mass crowds of people on the way here, but luckily enough - once she had got to the women’s toilets, she could hear someone crying within them, prompting her heart to sink as she could feel, and recognise the crying to be coming from you.

“Y/n-?” Rose managed, and you would tense up upon hearing her voice, before hugging your knees to your chest, and burying your face into them whilst you wondered why she was even bothering, though you were relieved, and it had soothed you to know now that she was with you again. “It’s me - Rose,” she clarified, though you already knew - every time you’d ever heard her speak, your heart would skip a beat, and that had happened yet again as soon as she had spoken up, and said your name a moment ago, now, “I - I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, a-and wanted.. wanted to tell you how sorry I am for - for what happened earlier - I was gonna tell you, I swear, I just-..” She would draw in a shaky breath, before wiping her eyes whilst tears clouded her vision, and her heart would ache excruciatingly alongside your’s; she’d never intended for this to happen; never intended for you to get hurt again, and she hated herself for it, whilst you believed there was only yourself left to blame for all that had happened recently. “I love you so much, Bassey,” she continued shakily, and you would falter whilst your heart ached alongside her’s, and more tears would be shocked out of your eyes, “I - I was just trying to protect you-”

“I would have been fine,” you spoke up weakly, and Rose would nod gravely whilst she stared down at the ground, wishing she’d just told you - now - as soon as she had tested herself the last time, and had gotten a positive result, “I thought you knew that you never have to hide anything from me, Rose; I can handle it, okay?”

“I know,” she answered dejectedly; you were evidently lying to try and stay strong for her, when she knew really that you wouldn’t have been able to take finding out as well as you thought you would, “I - I’m sorry, and - and I’m never gonna let it happen again, I promise, just-.. please come out; I wanna see your beautiful face again.”

“It’s not beautiful,” you contradicted, prompting a hurt look to cross her face again; she wished you’d stop putting yourself down like that all the time as she believed everything that you said to degrade yourself was far from being true, “it’s a mess-”

“Bullshit,” Rose interjected, and you would hesitate, before opening the stall door, and stepping out so she could see you, her eyes glinting as soon as her gaze had fallen upon you, and heart racing, but pain would soon envelope her again as soon as she had noticed that your eyes were quite red; sore from your crying session, no doubt, and she would curse herself again subconsciously, wishing she’d never let this happen whilst she would rush up to you, and throw her arms around you, soothing you instantly whilst you melted into her embrace, and would return the hug whilst you buried your face into the crook of her neck in the best way possible. “You’re perfect,” she cooed, surprising you whilst you glanced up at her, before affectionately connecting your forehead to her’s, “and don’t try and say that you aren’t because you are, and always have been ever since I first met you.”

“You might think that’s true, b-but do you know what I think?” You inquired, and Rose would shake her head whilst she nervously awaited your answer. “It wouldn’t matter how perfect or beautiful I am anyway, because your beauty and perfection will always be incomparable,” you returned, prompting her to grow flustered whilst blood soon began to rush to her cheeks, and you would then lean forward a little to delicately connect your lips to her’s before she could protest against you, and claim that it was you who was incomparable when you believed that that was something that would always be far from true. “So,” you began again gently, before resting your right hand on her stomach delicately whilst she smiled warmly over at you, “we’re gonna be mums? U-Unless you don’t wanna keep it, a-and I wouldn’t mind, I promise - I’m - I’m happy no matter what you - you decide to do-”

“I think I should keep it,” she stated, and you would appear surprised, but elated all the same whilst you beamed over at her, and would lean forward to passionately, and yet still delicately kiss her again blissfully.

“I love you so much,” you cooed whilst you buried your face into the crook of her neck, and she would beam down at you, glad to see you happy again, “don’t hate me, but - I’ve - I’ve always dreamt of raising a - a kid with you, or a dog or whatever animal, I just..” Rose would appear surprised, before giggling, evidently amused by your remark. You would then lift your left hand up to her right cheek, prompting her to instantly melt into your touch subconsciously whilst she locked eyes with you in the best way possible. “D’you know what this also means?” You inquired, and Rose would lift an eyebrow upon noticing the mischievous glint which had just formed in your eyes. “We only have a few weeks to have a little reckless and freakish fun together,” you stated, and Rose would wince, before nodding gravely, and smirking over at you; she could only guess what you might be about to suggest to her, “so - would you wanna maybe-.. spend the whole night with me, awake? O-Or spend at least most of the night awake?”

“I’m up for whatever you wanna do,” she answered, and you would grin over at her, before leading her out of the room, and hurriedly rushing back toward the hotel alongside her whilst you both giggled and occasionally kissed along the way, your hands never once letting go of one another whilst you did, until you finally got inside and into your room with her, things already feeling like they were going to be okay again even after what had previously happened before you’d both made up.

~-~

“You can get louder, can’t you?” Rose insisted, and Joel would grimace over at her; she’d recently written a new song called: ‘The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing’, all about him and how he’d been treating her and you recently; she’d heard about what had happened with Suki, as well, but thought better than to add anything about their previous interaction to avoid hurting Suki by reminding her of it. “C’mon - that’s only just a little harder for you to do, but I’m sure you can,” she remarked, and Joel would grunt, before shaking his head, and making to leave, but Rod would stop him.

“Just sing the damn part the way she wants you to,” he demanded, “I wanna get home; I don’t have the bloody time for you to be sulking like this.”

“Didn’t we come up with some other songs?” Joel inquired, and Rod would groan, before looking over at Rose who would shake her head; she was determined to get him to do it, and to add the song to the album.

“It’s a good song, Joel,” Suki uttered, and he would scowl over at her.

“Of course you would think that,” he spat, “you hate me just as much as they do recently-”

“What - do you think I shouldn’t? After what you did to me, Rose, and Y/n? Seriously?” She retorted, and Joel would fall quiet, not sure how else to respond to that, before he would shake his head again, utter ‘fuck this’, and then storm out after shoving Rod out of his way as a result of him trying to stop Joel from leaving, again.

“Asshole,” Rose remarked under her breath, and you would nod gravely, before timidly walking up to her, and wrapping your arms around her to try and provide comfort to her, soothing her instantly whilst she returned the hug, and would blissfully bury her face into the crook of your neck, “I guess we should just do one of the other songs, then-”

“Finally - a good fuckin’ idea,” Rod interjected, and Rose would shoot a glare over at him, “what? It’s true - even if he did agree to do the song, don’t you think it would look weird? That people would start putting two and two together, figuring out that the song is about him; the man whose supposed to be your husband that you’re in love with?”

You would frown upon remembering the wedding again, and how you’d probably never be able to marry her yourself, now, though you longed to more than anything in the world, prompting your heart to begin aching a little subconsciously as a result of the reminder. Rose would frown, instantly picking up on your change in demeanour, before trying to provide comfort to you by rubbing your back using her right hand, soothing you a little more whilst you leaned heavily against her, resting comfortably your head upon her left shoulder blissfully.

“Give me a break,” she replied, “they can assume all they want, but they’re too stupid to think beyond the song being the result of a marital tiff.”

Rod would scoff, before shaking his head. “Keep dreaming, Louisiana,” he responded sharply, “they would know, especially when they’re all still quite suspicious of you and Y/n.” Rose would frown; she knew he was right, but didn’t want to think that you would both always be monitored just because you were different from them. “Anyway,” he continued slowly whilst Rose would lift her right hand up to your head so she could entangle her fingers within your hair in the best way possible, soothing you again whilst you subconsciously leaned into her touch, “we should probably reconvene tomorrow and make sure everyone’s in agreement with the final song - don’t want anymore tiffs, do we? See you later.”

Rod would then walk out of the studio, followed by a hesitant Suki though she was worried about you both, wanting to make sure that you were okay, except she wasn’t sure how she could after what had happened recently with Joel and Rose hooking up whilst they were drunk a few weeks ago, now.

“Are you okay?” Rose inquired gently, and you would nod slowly, before smiling lovingly up at her to try and avoid upsetting her as best you could. “Good,” she cooed, before affectionately connecting her forehead to your’s, “I love you - you know that, right? A-And I swear we’re gonna find a way to get married in the future, it’s just-”

“It’s okay, Rose,” you tried to reassure her, and she would hesitate, before nodding, and smiling over at you again as if her heart weren’t aching excruciatingly like your’s was, alongside her’s, “we’re, erm-.. gonna get eloped, right? As long as you want to.”

“We can; I don’t mind,” she cooed whilst she played with your hair again, “I just wish we could do it more - officially.”

“I know,” you mused dejectedly, “but-.. at least we - we’ll be finally married, if we do.”

“I can’t wait,” she expressed, before leaning forward to delicately connect her lips to your’s again, and you would instantly melt into the kiss, before she began to deepen it blissfully, and would look around nervously for a moment after the kiss had sadly ended, leaving you both feeling empty for a moment whilst you clung to one another, and would revel in how it felt to be so close with no gaps between you, “h-hey, erm - can we go into the restroom? I wanna show you something, Bassey.”

You would appear surprised, as well as flustered, before smirking over at her, and nodding, elating her as well as flustering her alongside yourself. “Anything for you, my beloved Rose,” you remarked playfully, “I love your surprises.”

“I’m glad, because I love your’s,” she chimed, “and I have a feeling you’re gonna absolutely go nuts for this one - c’mon.”

She would hurriedly lead you toward the door, evidently excited, and you would grin whilst you anticipated what she might have in mind. “Sounds promising,” you remarked, before you both would disappear into the restroom, and you would lock the door so nobody could intrude on what you both were about to do together - neither of you could let slip the opportunity to spend more private time together like this, and hoped that soon maybe you’d both be able to have more time alone together once you’d both been able to elope, and would briefly take a break from the band once Rose felt like she should in a few months time.

🜚

As soon as you’d both got back, you would be surprised to find the others in the lobby of the hotel, evidently alcoholic drinks in every single one of their hands - well, all but Suki’s; she was pregnant, after all, and knew it would be bad for the baby within her if she began drinking again, though she longed to after everything that had happened recently between her, Joel, you, and Rose. “There you are,” Joel slurred, already seeming quite drunk, and you would protectively hook your right arm around Rose’s waist whilst he staggered over to you both, not paying attention to you whilst he smirked over at Rose as if she were his property, now, ever since she’d found out she was pregnant with his child.

“You better get the fuck away from me, Joel,” she warned, but he wouldn’t heed her warning, not scared of what she might do to him in the slightest, “I’m serious-”

“I was worried you weren’t gonna come back,” he continued whilst the others would warily keep an eye on the situation, and both you and Rose were trying not to lose control; trying not to start a fight with him after everything that he’d done to you both and Suki recently, hurting all three of you, “I can’t sleep without you here - C’mere, Louisiana-”

He would then shock her by grabbing hold of her, panicking you, but he would shove you away somehow strong enough to get you to fall back down onto the ground, prompting you to wince whilst you began to feel a little faint, and would slowly sit up though your head was paining you; you’d hit the back of it on the hard ground, and it was pranging overwhelmingly. “Y/n-!” Rose cried, evidently worried about you, and you would hastily try and get back up whilst Joel would gingerly nibble at her neck whilst she began to cry, terrified.

“Do you like that?” He inquired whilst she tried desperately to escape his hold, worried about you, more than she could ever worry about herself, right now, though he was basically sexually harassing and assaulting her right now, before Rod would manage to pull him away from Rose alongside Eddie, and Suki would check on you both to make sure that you were okay whilst Rose held you close to her as soon as she had been freed from Joel’s grasp, and you would instantly cling to her whilst you buried your face into her left shoulder, and she your’s, crying quietly into it. She had also been trembling a little within your embrace for a moment, evidently still in shock after she’d seen him shove you down to the ground, and after he had been roughly as well as forcefully handling her.

“It’s okay,” you cooed, trying to provide comfort to her whilst you rubbed her back with your right hand, and she would gradually begin to calm down whilst she affectionately connected her forehead to your’s, and would subconsciously lift her right hand to feel the back of your head to make sure that you were okay, and Suki would then check it herself for you.

“It’s not cut, luckily,” she reassured you, and Rose would express relief whilst you would check her neck to make sure that it wasn’t bleeding, worried that Joel had hurt her, and you would grimace when you noticed the small marks he’d managed to leave.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered shakily, and she would shake her head hastily, not wanting you to feel as if what had happened was your fault, but you couldn’t shake the thought from your head that you could have tried to do more to stop him from doing what he had previously done to her, “I should have stopped him, I-”

“You did all that you could do, Bassey,” she contradicted gently whilst her voice briefly trembled, “none of this is your fault-”

“It is!” You cried whilst Rose would hold you even closer to her, and delicately connect her lips to your forehead as an attempt to try and soothe you whilst you sobbed uncontrollably within her embrace, cursing yourself for not helping her before he could hurt her, and leave those marks on her neck. “I’m sorry,” you whined again, “I - I love you so much, a-and I - I swear I’m never gonna let him hurt you again, just - just please don’t - don’t leave me; I can’t live without you; I’ll try harder for you, I promise, I-.. j-just stay with me, please..”

Another strained sob would then manage to escape your lips whilst she glared back at Joel, despising him for hurting you, her, and Suki like this again, before she would return her attention to you, and would lift her right hand up to your left cheek, soothing you instantly whilst you would melt into her touch, and lock eyes with her in the best way possible, prompting your heart to begin racing again, and you to forget how to breathe for a moment whilst you admired her, again wondering what you’d done to deserve someone perfect like she had always been, and would always be.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby, I promise,” she cooed, and you would express relief whilst you connected your forehead to her’s, and would allow your eyelids to flutter shut whilst you revelled in the moment, “I love you so much, a-and I’m never gonna leave you, n-no matter what, s-so don’t worry - you’re never gonna lose me, okay? Ever, and Joel’ll never hurt us again; I won’t let him; I can’t.” You would nod slowly whilst you buried your face into her left shoulder again, sniffling barely audibly whilst you began to calm down even more. “You know you couldn’t do anymore than you did, right? That what happened couldn’t have been stopped before it was?” She inquired, and you would hesitate, before nodding again; you didn’t want to upset her any further by admitting to her that you still believed you could have done more to protect her from him. “Good,” she replied whilst she rubbed your back with her right hand, and would look over at Suki to check on her after what had just happened, and she would appear dejected as well as hurt; she couldn’t believe how much Joel had betrayed her recently after he’d claimed that he had been in love with her ever since he’d first met her, prompting her to wonder if he had been talking about Rose, instead, just to try and hook up with her a few weeks ago, now, before his and Rose’s wedding had even occurred. “You okay, Suki?” She asked, and Suki would shrug, before scowling over at Joel who was still grimacing over at you both together.

“I’m breaking up with him, as soon as he sobers up,” she uttered, and Rose would nod, glad; she deserved better than an asshole like him.

“You should,” she corroborated, and Suki would nod slowly whilst appearing as if she were trying not to cry.

“I’m just scared, b-because-..” She began again timidly, and Rose would tilt her head partially whilst she expressed concern for Suki. “N-Nevermind, it’s nothing,” she murmured, before hastily walking out of the room to avoid being further questioned by Rose who would wonder what had happened, or was happening to scare Suki, and to dissuade her a little from breaking up with Joel as that was what the situation seemed like to her.

“Something’s going on with Suki,” Rose mused, and you would nod gravely, wondering what it was alongside her; only Joel and Eddie knew that Suki was pregnant, still, leaving you, Rose, and Rod without a clue, “maybe we should talk to her, and try and find out what it is tomorrow - what do you think?”

“I think we should,” you answered, and Rose would nod, before smiling warmly over at you, soothing you again instantly whilst you melted further into her embrace, before trailing your fingers carefully over the marks on her neck, prompting her to wince a little, but she would manage to hide it from you, not wanting to worry you again, “h-he shouldn’t be leaving marks on you like that.”

She would then grin over at you whilst she held you at arm’s length, and you would appear flustered, hiding your face from her to the best of your ability; you’d begun to blush quite profusely. “Are you jealous, Bassey?” She teased, and you would wince, before shaking your head hastily, but she wouldn’t believe you for a second, lifting your head a little so she could passionately, as well as delicately kiss you, and you would instantly melt into the kiss whilst you clung to her shoulders, your heart racing alongside her’s again in the best way possible. “How about we go up to our room, and you can give me some marks on the other side?” She would suggest after the kiss had sadly come to an end, and you would appear surprised; you didn’t think she would want to after what had happened to her a few brief moments ago, now.

“A-Are you sure?” You questioned, not wanting her to feel as if she had to let you do that to her after he had without her consent.

“I’m more than sure,” she answered, “I promise, a-and if you want we can go to sleep after? W-We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to.”

“I - I’d love that,” you expressed, “I just wanted-.. wanted to make sure that you were okay with it - b-but don’t worry about fooling around after; you need rest after what happened-”

“I’m not tired,” she reassured you hastily, “are you?”

You would appear surprised, before beaming over at her, and shaking your head hastily; you were evidently elated, prompting her to smirk back at you, amused by your reaction whilst she also found it to be adorable. “N-Not at all,” you stated, and she would then intertwine the fingers of her left hand with the fingers of your right one, prompting your heart to skip a beat again whilst you revelled in how it felt like your hands had been made to fit with her’s perfectly.

“I’m glad,” she cooed, before delicately connecting her lips to your’s again, and leading you out of the room so she could rush up the stairs with you to get to your room, locking it behind you whilst Rod and Eddie were trying to sober Joel up outside; they’d dragged him out after Suki had left the room as he’d tried to struggle against them again, suggesting to them that he intended to try and create further problems somehow for you both whilst he was still drunk, but Rose was determined not to let him strain and burden your and her relationship any further than he already had recently, and would do all she could to curb his efforts to do so, but despite this the situation would always be a painful one for the both of you, especially later on into her pregnancy.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed it! ❤️

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ao3feedsheith · 29 days

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i'll climb through the window again

i'll climb through the window again https://archiveofourown.org/works/58405150 by i_called_you_a_squirrel “I’m scared,” Shiro breathed, against Keith’s lips. “That you would do anything for me.” Shiro slid her flesh hand onto Keith’s shoulder, gently pushing her back. Keith felt the balls of her feet touch the ground again, feeling like there were suddenly lightyears of space between them. Her eyes burned with tears. “Is that so bad?” Keith asked. or, Keith learns, slowly and painstakingly, how to love and let herself be loved in return in this awful world of ours. Words: 5186, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F Characters: Keith (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Coran (Voltron), Haggar (Voltron) Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Voltron: Legendary Defender Team Additional Tags: Team as Family, Rule 63, Female Keith (Voltron), Female Shiro (Voltron), Female Keith/Female Shiro (Voltron), Female Lance (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Female Hunk (Voltron), Foster Kid Keith (Voltron), Inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Quintessence (Voltron), Girlhood, Internalized Misogyny, i guess i have some walls up, Vulnerability, Suicide Attempt, Mild Gore, Swearing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Childhood Trauma, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, (it gets there), I Wrote This While Listening to Mitski's Music, Memory Alteration, Homophobic Language, Homophobia, Lesbian Character, Patriarchy, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Post-Kerberos Mission, Seizures, for a lack of a better word, Break Up, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Grief/Mourning, Not Beta Read via AO3 works tagged 'Keith/Shiro (Voltron)' https://archiveofourown.org August 23, 2024 at 04:22PM

#IFTTT #sheith

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summerwritesfics · 2 years

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🔥❄️Walk With Me, Would You Stay Awhile And Talk With Me

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 11493 Words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings: God AU, God!Hanzo Hasashi, Mortal!Kuai Liang, Healer!Kuai Liang, Mild Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tea, Mahjong, Implied Past Abuse, Bad Societal Hierarchy, Sparring, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Gentle Sex, Gentle Kissing, First Time, Roof Sex (Sex is just sexier when it’s on a roof idk what to tell you), Fluff, Some tiny bits of angst this is me lmao, Pining, Size Difference, Hand Job, Mentioned Homophobia, Plot With Porn, Porn With Feelings, Not really an arranged marriage but a relationship as part of a deal idk, Hanzo gets stabbed in the chest and has no coping mechanism except to court the person responsible, Hanzo falls for Kuai fast and hard SubScorp Week Day 7: God AU

SubScorp Week 2022 Masterlist

Notes: Welp, looks like this is it once again! ;_; This is probably the longest one shot I’ve ever written lmao, so I mean, a good end to the week I guess :) Hopefully it’s actually good and not just a big bunch of waffle XD I’m 100% sure I’ve probably missed a lot of typos but tbh I’ve been editing this for hours and I just want it out there, so if you see any please let me know TT_TT Title is from “Chivalry Begins” by Big Giant Circles.

Hanzo was really starting to tire of this.

There was a village, not too far from his temple, inhabited by people who preferred to be known as The Lin Kuei. They had been coming before him on this day every year for the last few decades, begging the God of Fire for his protection. He had only ever offered his protection to one village, but that had been enough to make every village within the vicinity come before him hoping he would choose them too. Most had taken no for an answer many moons ago and stopped trying.

Not the Lin Kuei however.

Every year, as if by clockwork, there was one of their kin in his throne room, trying to convince him to help them. He would admire their persistence if it wasn’t such an annoyance. Having to deal with this every year meant he was taken away from potentially more pressing matters, and it didn’t help that ever single one tried to argue against him, eating up more of his time.

At least this years poor fool had the sense to bow and show his respect before making demands.

“Can I help you mortal?” He asked, bored already.

“Lord Hasashi, I have been sent on behalf on the Lin Kuei, to request your protection of our village.” The man’s tone was uneven, clearly nervous about his role in this.

“Have you indeed?” Hanzo pushed himself up and off his throne and ambling towards his visitor. The man seemed to get even more nervous when he realised just how big Hanzo was, he was at least a couple of feet taller, towering over the still nervous man.

Upon closer inspection, this man looked different than the ones usually sent by the village. Usually they sent nobles, generals, people in positions of power. This man was in a far less flashy affair, a simple blue Hanfu, no jewellery or even armour, he had a sword strapped to his back but that was it. It seemed the village had finally realised that Hanzo did not respond to the arrogant pricks they usually sent.

“What is your name?” Hanzo questioned, staring the man up and down. He’d been cordial so far, and while Hanzo had no intentions of negotiating any sort of deal with the village, we was willing to at least do this man the kindness of listening.

“Kuai Liang, my Lord,” he replied, bowing his head slightly.

“Well, Kuai Liang, give me one good reason why I should protect your people?” He knew what the answer was already, it was the same answer every year. And this man seemed so woefully unprepared he doubted it would be a different one.

“We offer our worship and-“

“That is the same thing that is offered to me every year,” Hanzo interrupted, and Kuai flinched at his harsh tone. “Why would I accept it this time?”

“I-“ Kuai hesitated. Clearly they’d just coached him to say what they always said. He had no real answer. “I don’t know, my Lord.”

“Then I will bid you adieu,” Hanzo smuggly said in return, turning on his heel and returning to his throne. He expected Kuai to give up, given the man was clearly not a warrior and wracked with anxiety.

Except he heard the sword being unsheathed.

Hanzo turned back. Kuai was standing with the sword, gripping it tightly with both his hands. His stance was slightly off, not proper at all but not completely wrong. Clearly someone had taught him a few basics, but there was no sign of formal training.

“Do you really want to do this, Kuai Liang?” He asked, narrowing his eyes, hoping his threatening presence would be enough to make Kuai back down.

“I will do anything for my village,” Kuai announced, breathing uneven and hands unsteady.

How adorable. Hanzo felt bad for him, he’d likely not been given any real guidance on what to expect. In that respect, it would be wrong for Hanzo to fight back like he would anyone else. He’d just dodge the attacks until Kuai got bored and gave up.

“Very well,” Hanzo replied with a smirk. “Give it your best shot, Kuai Liang.”

Without much warning Kuai surged forward, swinging his sword at Hanzo with all his might. Hanzo chuckled as he sidestepped the attack. Kuai skidded to a halt, before turning on the balls of his feet. He ran toward Hanzo again, and once more he moved away. Again and again, this pattern repeated, and Hanzo had to admit, he admired Kuai’s stamina. For someone clearly lacking training, he was showing a lot less exhaustion than some of his more battle skilled peers had.

“It helps if you actually hit your target,” Hanzo taunted, rather enjoying the way Kuai bared his teeth in anger. He really was quite precious. This was the most fun he’d had with a mortal outside of his worshipers for a long time.

Kuai swung and missed again. Hanzo got to a point where he was just slowly backing up with every time Kuai went to hit him. Kuai had something about him, there was no denying that. Some would call it foolishness, but Hanzo saw it as determination. Maybe he had judged the man too quickly.

“Are you not getting tired?” Hanzo questioned, really rather amazed that Kuai didn’t seem to have even begun running out of breath.

Kuai swung his sword again, and Hanzo went to easily dodge once more.

Except…

He didn’t.

Hanzo felt the tip of the sword just about catch his cheek and he drew back in surprise. As he touched the area that had been hit, he was surprised by the sting and the wetness on his fingertips. He held his hand in front of his face, blood on his hand. Kuai Liang had managed to land a hit on him. He’d been challenged to battle by every Lin Kuei who had entered his temple, and yet in all those years, not one person had actually managed to hit him.

Unfortunately, he was so distracted by his shock, he stopped paying attention to what Kuai Liang was doing until it was too late. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, looking down, he found the sword buried to the hilt.

He looked to Kuai’s face, tight with valour. Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to feel angry that his momentary lapse of awareness had been taken advantage of. If anything it was only natural for Kuai to capitalise on such a moment. Hanzo was almost proud of him for doing so, but not as proud as him actually managing to get that first hit.

Hanzo brought his hands up to the hilt of the sword, wrapping them around Kuai’s as he still gripped it for dear life. Kuai looked down at Hanzo’s hands, before looking at Hanzo questioningly.

“I hate to be the barer of bad news,” Hanzo started, tightening his grip of Kuai’s hands. “But you can not kill a god.”

Kuai tried to not look alarmed by this revelation, but he was betrayed by the way his eyes widened slightly. It seemed either no one had ever told him or he’d just never really considered it. It was endearing in a strange way. He was so completely out of his depth, Hanzo was almost furious the the Lin Kuei would send someone so unprepared to face him.

Kuai tried to pull away but Hanzo made sure to take a strong hold of his wrists. Kuai let go of the sword, desperate to try and get away. Holding Kuai’s wrists with one hand, he held him in place as he reached for his chains. Despite how hard Kuai was trying to free himself, Hanzo’s grip was strong, no doubt he would leave bruises. Hanzo would heal them later, when Kuai had calmed down, but for now, he wrapped the chains around his wrists and pulled.

He held the end of the chains, making sure Kuai wasn’t going to find a way to free himself. Satisfied that no matter how much Kuai thrashed he wasn’t going anywhere, Hanzo turned his attention to the sword still buried inside himself. He grabbed it, gently coaxing it free. It didn’t hurt anywhere near as badly as it probably would have if he were mortal. Once out, he stared at the blade stained with his blood before throwing it across the floor. Kuai stopped struggling to watch his only defence leave his reach.

Hanzo lit a fire in his hand, taking notice in how still Kuai became. The fire wasn’t meant to hurt however, this was meant to heal. He held it to his wound, feeling a tingling as the fire worked it’s magic and began to stitch his flesh back together. Despite the size of the wound, his work was quick, and he was able to fix himself easily. He could heal the small scratch on his cheek as well, but he decided against it. The hole in his chest had come from an underhanded tactic, the scratch on his face had been a legitimate hit. He decided he could let Kuai have that one.

Speaking of Kuai, he still wasn’t moving, just wearily eyeing up the fire still in Hanzo’s hand. Clearly he was expecting the fire to be wielded against him. Hanzo smirked as he extinguished the fire, seeing Kuai’s shoulders relax at the action.

He didn’t give Kuai chance to begin struggling again, yanking on the chain hard and causing Kuai to stumble forward. Hanzo pulled until Kuai was flush with his chest, and he wrapped his arm around Kuai’s back, grasping onto the fabric of his hanfu and holding him close. Kuai made a strange squeak, his face going bright red as he squirmed slightly.

“You are an interesting one, Kuai Liang,” Hanzo commented, rather delighted by how Kuai’s previous defiance seemed to have been replaced by shyness. “You are the first from your village to actually manage to strike me.” Kuai pursed his lips at that, looking like he didn’t believe it. Hanzo supposed the Lin Kuei he usually dealt with weren’t the types to admit defeat. “You are clearly not a trained warrior, what exactly is your position?”

“I’m a healer,” Kuai admitted, and Hanzo couldn’t help raise an eyebrow. “My brother and Grandfather refused to let me join the armies, but my brother did, and he taught me some basic self defence.” The idea that Hanzo had been taken down by basic self defence was a little insulting, but wasn’t that why Kuai was catching his interest? He did wonder why Kuai had been sent rather than his brother however. As if sensing the unasked question, Kuai added, “my brother came before you last year.”

“Oh that arrogant fool?” Hanzo hissed before he could stop himself. He hadn’t paid much attention to the man who’d come last year. He’d been all bark and absolutely no bite in the end. Threatening Hanzo and claiming he could win with absolute certainty only to have his ass handed to him.

Hanzo was a little surprised when Kuai chuckled under his breath and mutter, “he is pretty arrogant.” His mouth twitched slightly. “I suppose that’s why he told me he had defeated you, and you still refused his requests.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes and commented, “given your reaction, it sounds like that is much the same story everyone tells.”

“No one has never mentioned being defeated by you,” Kuai admitted, squirming slightly again. He stilled when Hanzo squeezed him slightly.

“Of course they didn’t,” Hanzo sighed dramatically. He pulled of the chain slightly. “But for now, the question is, what am I to do with you?”

“I assumed you’d send me back to the village with my tail between my legs,” Kuai said looking down. “It won’t surprise anyone for me to have failed.”

That last statement bothered Hanzo, but he couldn’t place why. He chose to ignore it for now.

“Now why would I do that when you’re so very interesting?” Hanzo moved his hand from Kuai’s back, bringing it to cup his chin instead. “In fact the most interesting thing that’s walked into my temple for centuries.”

Kuai’s eyes looked to one side, Hanzo’s grip on his chin stopped him from turning away completely.

“I fail to see what makes me so interesting to you,” Kuai muttered, chewing on his lower lip.

“Being a healer who managed to get a strike on a God is not enough?” Hanzo teased, and Kuai’s eyes shot back to him to give him an unimpressed look. “You are not like the others that have come before me, and that makes me curious about you.” He pulled on the chains again. “If I undo the chains, are you going to try and run from me?”

Kuai was silent for a few seconds, looking like he was considering it. Finally, he replied with “no, Lord Hasashi.”

Hanzo decided to trust him, reaching to pull the chains away from his limbs. With the chains gone, Hanzo could see that Kuai’s wrists had already begun bruising and there were slight cuts from the chains. He lit a fire in both of his hands and went to take hold of Kuai’s wrists. Kuai pulled his hands away lightning fast, staring at Hanzo’s hands wearily.

“These flames will not hurt you,” Hanzo promised. He felt his hands out flat, deciding to let Kuai take the initiative.

Kuai really didn’t look like he trusted it, and Hanzo almost wondered if he was about to go back on his word of not running. Eventually, Kuai held his arms out, resting his wrists on Hanzo’s hands. He grimaced as the flames touched him, eyes screwing shut bracing himself for pain that would never come. His eyes blinked open in surprise when he realised the burning agony he was expecting hadn’t happened. He watched in awe as the flames licked at his skin, and slowly the bruised skin began to clear, and the small cuts began to close up. When Hanzo was satisfied the healing was complete, his flames died down, and Kuai lifted his arms to stare at the spot the injuries had just been.

He looked back across at Hanzo, conflict written on his face. “Thank you,” he whispered, before adding, “but, what exactly is it you want from me?”

Hanzo tilted his head, staring Kuai up and down. His outfit might have been plain, but he himself was anything but. It had been so long since Hanzo had found himself fascinated by a mortal in such a way. In fact he could only think of one person who had ever fascinated him like this.

“There has only been one other to captivate me the way you have,” Hanzo began, as he slowly began to circle Kuai. “Her name was Harumi, she came to me very much as you have, requesting protection for her village. We made a deal, and I granted that protection.”

“So, what was it she offered you?” Kuai asked, looking apprehensive.

“She offered me her hand in marriage.”

Kuai made a strange noise between a squeak and a whine. He covered his mouth as his face went bright red. It was as adorable as it was endearing.

“Are- Are you suggesting we-“

“Not if you do not want to,” Hanzo replied. As cute a husband he was sure Kuai would make, he wasn’t that cruel a god as to force an unwilling participant into marriage. “But I do ask that you stay with me a while. I would like to get to know you.”

“If I stay, will you consider protection for the Lin Kuei?” Kuai asked, holding his head high despite how flustered he looked.

“You have my word,” Hanzo replied with a bow. Kuai looked at him like he was considering it.

“Okay,” he said in a loud and long breath. “I will stay. But I should let the village know, before they send someone thinking I am dead.”

“I will have one of my acolytes relay a message.” Hanzo held out his hand. “Now, come, allow me to give you a warmer welcome than you initially received.”

Kuai actually gave a small smile, before taking Hanzo’s hand.

----------------------------------------------------

Hanzo was making every effort to not become overbearing.

Kuai was still skittish, and Hanzo worried that bombarding him with queries would both frighten him and frustrate him. He had left Kuai to his own devices for a day or so, deciding to let the man approach him in his own time while hopefully becoming more comfortable with his surroundings.

It was very different from how Harumi had been. She had been the one to suggest marriage, and as such was very enthusiastic and open to talking with him. Kuai was not Harumi, but he was equally as intriguing. He just had to remind himself that this man required a different approach to his late wife.

The message to his village had been sent, Hanzo’s acolyte had stated the Grandmaster had laughed and made some sort of derogatory comment. The acolyte did not elaborate on the comment, even as Hanzo had pushed for what it was. All he was told was that the actual comment would have made Hanzo burn the village to the ground.

As he sat down at a table to make himself a cup of tea and ponder that reaction, from the corner of his eye he saw a head peering around the doorframe. Upon further inspection, he realised it was Kuai Liang, watching him like he was trying to spy on him.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted, trying not to grin when Kuai jumped and realised he had been spotted. “Would you care to have some tea with me?”

Kuai slowly stepped into the doorway, staring at the table with the tea. He glanced around, as if checking they were alone, before he finally made his way over and sat down opposite, and Hanzo began to pour out the drink.

“How are you settling in?” Hanzo asked, as he pushed the cup of tea towards Kuai Liang.

“I’m fine.” He accepted the cup, taking it in his hands but didn’t try to drink it yet. “Your temple is very beautiful.”

“Thank you, though I can not take much credit for that,” Hanzo admitted, taking his own tea and sipping it. “My acolytes are the one who take care of the upkeep.”

Kuai hummed, finally taking his own sip of tea. Hanzo didn’t miss the way Kuai’s eyes widened, before he very quickly took another couple of sips. He quickly asked between his drinking, “speaking of your acolytes, did they send the message?”

“They did.” Hanzo was hesitant to say anymore. Kuai didn’t need to know the cruel way his Grandmaster had reacted. Kuai was staring at him expectantly however, and Hanzo knew he had to say a little more. “My acolyte mentioned your Grandmaster was not kind with his wording, although would not tell me what was said.”

“It’s okay, I have an idea what the nature of the comments might be,” Kuai admitted lowly, closing his eyes as he did. “The Grandmaster doesn’t exactly have the highest opinion of me, he’s probably angry that I would take more than one day to negotiate with you.”

Hanzo scoffed, “nothing worthwhile is built in a day. It takes time to build a sturdy foundation, and build from there. Your Grandmaster is a fool to think otherwise.”

Kuai just stared at Hanzo silently, looking alarmed. His eyes darted around the room, like he was expecting someone to reveal themselves from the shadows.

“There is no one here but us,” Hanzo clarified, wondering if Kuai was worried about his acolytes overhearing or someone else.

“This is a test,” Kuai said. A statement, not a question. He was certain of this. “He has asked you to test my loyalty.”

Hanzo couldn’t help but screw his face up in disgust, “even if he had, I would not have approved of such a thing.” There was something concerning about this reaction. Why would this even be something he would be afraid of? “What makes you believe this is a test?”

“We are not supposed to speak poorly of our Grandmaster,” Kuai told him, still wearily eyeing up the room. “We do not question his will, and we certainly are not supposed to criticise his ways.”

Hanzo knew there was a reason he didn’t like the village. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get Kuai’s true feelings on his Grandmaster without first assuring him that his words would not make their way back to the Lin Kuei. So, baby steps. Make Kuai feel more comfortable, and then later figure out how long the Lin Kuei Grandmaster would burn for.

“I see this is an uncomfortable topic for you, so we should move on.” Hanzo lent across the table and offered a sly smile. “Besides, it is you that I would prefer to speak of.”

“I am not sure what else there is,” Kuai said quietly, grabbing his wrist with his hand and rubbing it. “I am not really as interesting at you seem to think.”

I vehemently disagree. He did not voice that thought, it was often hard to convince someone of their own worth. Instead he just lent his head on his hand, trying to think of a topic to help coax Kuai into talking more freely about himself.

“I am sure you must have some stories to tell from your work as healer,” Hanzo pointed out. It was a topic he’d talked about before, and always found everyone he asked had different stories to tell. “For instance, how exactly did you come to walk that path?”

“Like I mentioned, my Grandfather and Brother refused to let me join the armies.” Kuai finally let go of his wrist, but it wasn’t the end of his nervous fidgeting. He now just seemed to not know what to do with his hands. “I still wished to be of use however, which is when my Grandfather took me to the healers and requested they take me under their wing.”

“Do you like being a healer?” He questioned. It seemed almost like he’d been forced out into the role. He could imagine that could foster some form of resentment.

“I do,” Kuai said, the most chipper he’d sounded since he’d arrived, so Hanzo was inclined to believe this was true. “I enjoy helping people, even if my patients in particular are not always so grateful.”

“Some people do not appreciate these things until they are gone,” Hanzo commented, a sad truth he had learnt from millennia of watching the lives of mortals. He’d seen entire societies ban utilities they considered wrong or useless, only to discover how much they did for them after. “I do hope you do not receive too much backlash.”

And if he did, Hanzo would very much like the names of the perpetrators so he could have a word with them.

“Backlash, not so much, snide comments, maybe,” Kuai said somewhat deadpan. “I don’t really care, the other healers are kind to me, and I know they appreciate me, so that’s all I need.”

Hanzo was glad to hear that at least Kuai’s colleagues weren’t so dismissive. It did make him wonder what Kuai’s other relationships were like though. And whatever people thought of his work, there was no denying that Kuai was a very good looking man. Hanzo could imagine he had many suitors fighting for his affections.

“Do you have many other relationships with your fellow villagers?” Hanzo went to pour himself a second cup of tea, noticing Kuai’s cup was also now empty he went to fill that too. “I can imagine you have numerous people enamoured with you.”

Kuai let out a strained laugh, as he replied “oh, no, not really.” Hanzo didn’t believe that for a second. “I have friends, but no one interested romantically.” Kuai pursed his lips and looked like he was thinking. “I mean, I always suspected my best friend had feelings for me, but when I asked him for a relationship, he turned me down, so I suspect I misread his intentions.”

Hanzo wondered if that was really the case, or if this friend had instead turned Kuai down in a panic or for fear of judgement from their peers.

“I am a bit of a black sheep, I suppose,” Kuai continued. “Not many people really care for me, except my healer brethren, my brother, and my best friend.” Kuai looked away, staring out the window. In the distance, you could just about make out his village. “Our village values fighters, above all things. Those who do not take that path are seen as outsiders and generally regarded as useless or cowardly.”

“That seems an unfair judgement towards you for something you did not choose for yourself.” Hanzo watched as Kuai continued to look wistfully out the window.

“That doesn’t really matter, it is just how our culture is, I guess.” Kuai finally turned back to him. “I think part of why they sent me this year was a form of punishment and humiliation. They expected me to come back with nothing so they could use me as an example of why no one should be like me. Despite the fact no one else has succeeded either.”

Hanzo had no idea how he kept his composure. The idea they might have sent him here to fail was despicable. It made him wonder just what the Grandmaster had said to his acolyte. Bastard does not deserve my protection.

But refusal put Kuai in a bad position. It would “prove” he was as useless as they seemed to think he was. Damn them. This had nothing to do with the village itself at this point, and everything to do with what Kuai Liang wanted from him. If Kuai asked him to kill them all, he would do so without hesitation.

But he hadn’t.

So Hanzo silently resolved that he would earn Kuai’s trust, and he would stand by his word to offer the village protection.

And he would make sure those ungrateful wrenches knew exactly who had brought such a gift to them.

----------------------------------------------------

Kuai was slowly becoming more comfortable around Hanzo.

It was little things that Hanzo noticed. Kuai no longer traversed the temple like he was trying to remain unseen. He walked into rooms without sticking his head around the door frame before entering. He stopped acting paranoid that some omnipresent force would swoop in and reprimand him for speaking poorly of the Grandmaster.

He was being more open with his interests as well. He didn’t have much outside of his healing, more out of lack of availability than want however. One of the first true times he felt Kuai had begun to bond with him, was when they sat down and Kuai tried to teach him how to play mahjong.

Even if the game did frustrate Hanzo a little, given he kept getting into situations where he had no more valid moves, Kuai was patent with teaching him how to play. If Hanzo was honest, he was more captivated by watching Kuai play. He looked so relaxed as he paired up the tiles with ease. He left the table set up should Kuai decide he wishes to play during moments where Hanzo was busy.

His acolytes had needed advice on an issue, meaning that so far today, he had not yet been able to speak with Kuai. When he was finally done, seeking out his guest was his first priority. As understanding as Kuai was of Hanzo’s position, it still felt rude to leave him unattended for long periods of time.

He made his way to the room they’d had their tea in, it seemed to be Kuai’s favourite place in the temple and thus the first place he would check. Indeed, when he walked in, there Kuai was, sat at the mahjong table. However, he wasn’t alone, two of Hanzo’s acolytes were sat with him. They hadn’t noticed Hanzo yet, so he stood and observed the interaction. Kuai seemed to be listening intently to what the acolytes were saying, occasionally nodding, smiling and laughing.

Hanzo hadn’t realised before that he was worried how his acolytes would treat Kuai and vice versa. The relief that they were getting on well was immeasurable.

Hanzo coughed lightly, making his presence known. All three men turned their heads to see who was there. When Kuai saw Hanzo, a blush came across his face.

“Are things well?” Hanzo questioned, walking towards them. The two acolytes stood up as he approached.

“Yes, Lord Hasashi,” one of his acolytes replied with a bow. “Kuai Liang was just teaching us how to play Mahjong.”

Hanzo chuckled at that. Seems he was not the only person Kuai was going to rope into this. He wasn’t going to complain, he definitely liked to encourage his worshipers to take time for themselves, a nice fun game to play would be beneficial to moral.

“Do you need anything Lord Hasashi?” The other acolyte questioned.

“Not right now,” Hanzo replied, walking past them to settle opposite the table to Kuai Liang. “You do not have to leave solely because I am here, you may join us, if you wish.”

The two acolytes shared a strange knowing look between them, before the first one replied with, “it’s quite alright Lord Hasashi, there is work we should be doing anyway.”

The two acolytes bowed again before excusing themselves. Hanzo turned back to Kuai, who thankfully wasn’t upset that his conversation had been cut short. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

“I do apologise if I interrupted your conversation,” he offered with a smile. Kuai smiled back, before turning his attention to the Mahjong table.

“No, it’s okay, I’m glad you’re here.” Hanzo tried not to scream from the sheer joy that sentence brought him. I’m glad you’re here! He’s happy to see me! It was a big sentiment from a man who only a few weeks ago was scared to enter a room without being invited first. “Your acolytes are very interesting.” Kuai took a pair of tiles, before looking expectantly at Hanzo. Ah. Hanzo stared at the board, realising that it was his turn. “They talk very highly of you.”

“A lot have given up much to assist me, it is only right for me to provide them a good life in return,” Hanzo replied, taking two of the tiles, still unsure if he was playing this game right. He did smirk though as he looked across at Kuai and said “so, you were talking about me then?”

Kuai squeaked and his face went bright red and he looked away, while stammering “I- I- Well- I- You see-“

Hanzo cut him off with a laugh and commented, “you’re adorable when you’re flustered.” Kuai shot him an unimpressed looked. “Relax, it is only natural that you would ask questions to those who know me well.”

“Grandfather always told me, that the way to check the heart of a God was to check those of their followers.” Kuai took two more tiles from the board. He’d barely even looked at what he was doing, Hanzo was in awe at how he was able to memorise where tiles were with such certainty.

“Your Grandfather was a wise man,” Hanzo noted. “There are many deities who rule with fear, but that does not inspire loyalty.”

“There are many humans who rule with fear too,” Kuai stated sadly, looking through the window, in the direction of his village. Hanzo had no need to question who he was talking about. “You are right. It inspires obedience rather than loyalty. The second that things are bad, those you tried to lead will leave you to be eaten alive.”

“Precisely.” Hanzo turned his attention back to the board. He was determined to win this game, if only in an attempt to impress Kuai Liang. “Loyalty is earned, not given.”

“Out of curiosity,” Kuai began, turning back in time to watch Hanzo staring intently at the Mahjong board. From the corner of his eye, he could see Kuai’s amused smile. “Is this the sort of thing that would be expected of me?” Hanzo made a confused huff, not sure what he was actually asking. “Loyalty, and worship.”

“Loyalty, yes, but as I already said, that is earned. Though you should know you already have mine,” he commented as he took two more tiles. “As for worship. No.” He looked Kuai in the eyes. “I would never expect that from someone I am equals with.” Hanzo felt his mouth split into a grin, as he figured another way to fluster Kuai further. “If anything, I intend to be the one to worship you.”

It worked, Kuai looked away in embarrassment, although to Hanzo’s surprise he was softly laughing this time.

“You truly are audacious,” Kuai commented, pushing some hair behind his ear. He quietly took another couple of tiles without looking at the board. “I’ve never heard of something so preposterous. A God worshiping a mere mortal.”

“Not a mere mortal,” Hanzo replied, realising that there were only a few tiles left, and it looked like they would be able to clear the board. “You are not a mere anything.” Hanzo watched as Kuai turned back to the board and seemed to realise they would clear it. The first time since Hanzo had begun to learn how to play. “Besides, if it were not for mortals, the Gods would have nothing.”

“How so?” Kuai asked genuinely. Hanzo didn’t miss the small smile as he continued to take the tiles.

“They are the ones who chose to give us their time, they built our temples and tend to our world.” Hanzo saw the way Kuai’s face scrunched up. “Is there a problem?”

“I am curious, if you truly feel that way, how come you so seldom offer your protection?” Kuai asked, tilting his head.

“Despite being a god, I still can not be in multiple places at once.” He reached to take the last pair of tiles. “I can not offer protection to every village that requests it, and I’ve found offering it at all lends to arguments as well as feelings of favouritism and unfairness.” Despite himself he smirked at the empty board. He felt a heat in his chest when he saw the look of pride Kuai was giving him. “Individuals who come to worship me are free to do so, and they are free to make requests of me, within reason.”

“So, why are you willing to consider protecting my village?”

“Because you are not like anyone else they have sent. Similar to Harumi before you, you did something that surprised me.” It was strange. Harumi and Kuai were different people, in terms of personality at least, but very similar in ways that mattered. Their opinions, their beliefs, their intelligence, their determination. Hanzo wondered if it was possible that Kuai Liang was her reincarnated and brought back to him. “Granted what she did to surprise me was very different.”

“Well, you can’t tell me that and not say how she won you over?” Kuai said with a cheeky grin.

“She walked into my temple, looked me straight in the eye and demanded that I marry her.” He felt justified in the giggle that came from Kuai. Honestly, it still made him laugh thinking back. She had come in so confident and so sure, and yet seemed surprised that her plan had actually worked. “It was such a bold move I naturally had no choice but to comply.”

“Naturally,” Kuai said with a smirk. “I think I understand why you liked her.”

“Yet you can’t seem to understand why I like you?” Hanzo pointed out, and Kuai sighed softly in return.

“Like I said, I have never had anyone really express interest in me, it has been surprising that the first person who has is a God.” To Hanzo’s surprise Kuai reached over to take his hand. “But… I also think I understand why she liked you too.”

Hanzo tried not to completely loose all composure. He was sure he was failing given the look Kuai was giving him.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” Kuai parroted back at him, and there was something about the smug grin Kuai had on his face that was making Hanzo’s heart race.

“Now who’s the audacious one,” Hanzo countered, trying to remain impassive, although he knew he was absolutely failing. “And after I cleared the Mahjong board.”

“Yes, you did,” Kuai said, finally retracting his hand. Hanzo stopped himself from reaching for it again. “I’m quite proud of you for picking it up so quickly.”

“Well, I had an excellent teacher.” The modest laugh from Kuai only fuelled his admiration for the man. Hanzo picked up one of the tiles, and held it up. “Care for another game, Kuai Liang?”

“I think I have another round in me, Lord Hasashi,” Kuai replied, accepting the tile from Hanzo.

Hanzo passed the rest of his tiles over, and watched eagerly as Kuai set up a new game.

----------------------------------------------------

Kuai was getting bolder.

A lot bolder. Hanzo was genuinely pleased with how far out of his shell Kuai had come. Everyday, he got more and more open, begun to smile more, laugh more, flirt with Hanzo more.

He was even getting more bold with requesting things.

Even so, Hanzo hadn’t expected the words that came from Kuai’s mouth when he entered the throne room that morning.

“Lord Hasashi,” Kuai addressed, as he approached the throne. Hanzo was surprised, Kuai had barely been in this room since their first meeting. It was yet another sign of how comfortable Kuai Liang was getting, feeling more at ease with traversing the temple. “I was wondering if you could help me practice sparring.”

Hanzo blinked in surprise.

“Of course, but, may I ask what brought this on?” He was curious, aside from when they’d first met, Kuai hadn’t really shown much interest in fighting.

“I just wish to get better, should I ever be in another situation where I need to defend myself,” Kuai admitted, bowing his head slightly. “And I have seen the way you teach your acolytes to fight. You are a far more patient teacher than my brother was.”

Ah. Hanzo could understand that, and depending on how their relationship went, Kuai had a very valid reason for wanting a way to shield himself. Consort’s and spouses of deities tended to be targeted by those with grudges, and Hanzo wouldn’t always be able to save him. He had taught Harumi how to fight all those years ago, it would make sense for him to do the same with Kuai Liang.

It also somehow was not surprising to him to know that Kuai Liang’s brother wasn’t too good a teacher.

Kuai had potential though, Hanzo had seen that for himself already. With a little more honing Kuai could be a very fearsome warrior.

“Very well,” Hanzo replied, pushing himself off his throne. It felt like a strange repeat from only a few weeks ago, except there was a lot less at stake this time. He mentally compared how Kuai looked now compared to their first meeting. In the beginning he’d been so rigid, on edge and unsure, and now he was stood relaxed but head held high. It was wonderful to witness.

He walked over to where he kept the training weapons. While he wouldn’t be hurt by any strikes, the same couldn’t be said for Kuai Liang. He figured that injury would be quite counter productive to his current goal. He took two wooden training swords, and made his way back to Kuai.

First things first, he needed to try and correct Kuai’s form slightly.

“Here,” he handed a sword to Kuai, who accepted it without question. “To start with, your form was good, it just needs a bit of refining. Can you get into position for me?“

As Kuai positioned himself, Hanzo came up behind him. Kuai made a small huff when Hanzo touched him, but didn’t voice any complaints. Hanzo nudged Kuai’s feet with his own, making the gap between them slightly bigger. He gently pushed on Kuai’s back, straightening him out rather than hunched over like he had been.

“I know it seems like the best idea to hunch up, and make yourself small,” Hanzo explained as he grasped Kuai’s wrist to fix his hands. “But you loose a lot of movement that way.”

“I see.” Kuai made no complaints as Hanzo stepped away. He moved in front of Kuai, bringing up his own sword into a position.

“First, I’d like to see how you block,” Hanzo stated. “Your offence can only be as good as your defence, knowing when to strike is key.”

“I always wondered about that,” Kuai spoke as Hanzo went to strike. Kuai just about brought up the sword to block him. “Bi-Han always encouraged me to be more aggressive.” Kuai managed to block another attack, and Hanzo had to admit his reflexes were extremely sharp. “But I always thought just rushing someone wasn’t the best strategy.”

“What strategy would you use?” Hanzo asked, silently getting into a defensive stance and seeing if Kuai would take the chance. He did, bringing his sword down against Hanzo’s.

“Stealth, if I’m being honest,” Kuai replied, as he chanced another strike. Hanzo managed to push back, and Kuai stumbled slightly. Hanzo took another swing, feeling very pleased when Kuai managed to bring his sword in time to block the attack. “Use the element of surprise to get an upper hand in the beginning, and then use a mix of blocks and strikes to hopefully keep up the advantage or attempt to disarm my opponent.”

“Not a bad idea,” Hanzo commented, watching as Kuai tried to do a similar push back move. It didn’t work as well, mostly because Hanzo was a lot heavier than any man Kuai was used to. “It is a shame your family did not allow you to become a warrior, I get the feeling you would have been a magnificent tactician.”

Kuai laughed at that, once more trying to push Hanzo away when their swords collided. It was at this point his eyes narrowed, and Hanzo could practically see the his mind working out a new way to get the sword off his sparing partner. He was curious what Kuai would do, how he would come up with a plan in the heat of the moment.

So Hanzo just continued to alternate between attacking and defending, giving Kuai chance to practise both and come up with his plan to disarm Hanzo. Granted, this wouldn’t happen on the battlefield, but if Kuai could think and adapt his plans in the middle of a fight, it would give him an invaluable skill.

It didn’t take Kuai long to set his plan into motion, when as Hanzo sliced forward, Kuai ducked. The sword just went over Kuai’s head, missing him by a hair. Once it had cleared Kuai’s head, he jumped back to his feet, and struck a hit at Hanzo’s hand. There was no pain but the surprise of the move was enough for Hanzo unclenched his hand and let go.

Hanzo watched the wooden sword fall to the floor, and before he could even think about going to grab it, he found the point of Kuai’s at his neck. He looked over, not even bothering to hide how elated he was.

“Do you yield, Lord Hasashi?” Kuai asked, and he looked as serious as he had that first day they met. He looked so handsome when he meant business.

Hanzo broke out into a grin as he said “you’re so beautiful.”

“I’m starting to think you might have a thing for getting your ass handed to you,” Kuai commented, taking Hanzo’s compliment to mean an admittance of defeat.

“Only when it’s you,” Hanzo replied, because it was true. Sure he had been defeated in the past, but absolutely none of those defeats felt fulfilling. That was a feeling reserved solely for Kuai Liang. “I am serious though, with some more training, you would make a formidable foe.”

“Well, it’s a good job I have an excellent teacher.” It seemed Kuai’s favourite way to flirt was throwing Hanzo’s compliments back at him. “Would you care for another round, Lord Hasashi?”

Hanzo walked over to where his sword lay on the floor, picking it up and holding it out.

“It would be my honour.”

----------------------------------------------------

The comfort of night was soothing to Hanzo. As a god he did not need to sleep, so he often went to watch the sun set and then rise again. The majority of his acolytes were asleep, as well as Kuai Liang, and there had only ever been a handful of nighttime emergencies over the years.

He liked to sit on the roof of his temple and look up at the moon and stars, the lunar gods and goddesses took such good care of them. It was sad that only the most dedicated of mortals ever got to see them. Hanzo appreciated them though, and often let them know by way of gifts from his temple to theirs.

“So, this is where you hide at night.”

Hanzo turned in surprise at the voice, to see Kuai clambering up to the roof himself.

“You should be sleeping,” Hanzo commented, although really, he would not argue against spending more time with Kuai.

“I couldn’t sleep, I’ve been thinking too much,” Kuai explained as he carefully made his way over the tiles to sit next to Hanzo. “I was hoping I could talk to you.”

“Of course.” Hanzo worried if it was too cold out here for Kuai. He wasn’t wearing his usual hanfu, instead donning a kimono one of the acolytes had lent to him. “Is there something wrong?”

Kuai cleared his throat, “it has been a month since I came here.” Ah. It has, hasn’t it? To Hanzo that was barely any time but he acknowledged that for Kuai it was a lot longer. “I think soon my village will want an answer.”

“I see,” Hanzo hummed. He agreed, the Lin Kuei would start to get impatient. If Hanzo had his way, Kuai would stay indefinitely without fear of having to go back, but he knew that was not to be. “Well, the answer does depend on what you want.”

Kuai opened his mouth, before quickly closing it. He smiled shyly, before reaching his hands to Hanzo’s face and cradling his cheeks careful, as Kuai lent forward so their faces were directly in front of each other. Hanzo wondered for a moment what he was doing.

And then Kuai’s lips met his.

Hanzo gasped in surprise, it took a few seconds for him to really take in what was happening. His own hands worked on instinct, one wrapping around Kuai’s back and pulling him close while the other cradled the back of his head. He tried not to feel disappointed by Kuai pulling away.

“Does that explain what I want?” Kuai said, suddenly looking shy and biting his lip. Hanzo wanted nothing more than to bite it for him.

“Hm, it might need a bit more explanation,” Hanzo teased, and it was completely worth it when Kuai lent in to kiss him again. This time, Hanzo opened his mouth, using his tongue to encourage Kuai to do the same. As Kuai silently agreed to the request, Hanzo let his tongue slip inside. It was clear Kuai did not have as much experience as Hanzo, but it didn’t matter, it was still wonderful. Hanzo pulled away long enough to whisper “Will you allow me to make love to you?”

“Yes, but-“ Kuai shifted back slightly, brow furrowed and lips tights. “I’ve- uh- I’ve never been intimate with anyone before.”

“That’s okay,” Hanzo assured, using his grip on Kuai’s back to guide the man to straddle his lap. “We will go at whatever pace you find comfortable, and nothing will continue if you do not wish it to.”

“Thank you,” Kuai said gently, settling himself on Hanzo’s lap. “I- Ah- I guess this is the part where I start to take off my clothes?“

Hanzo’s hand reached for the Obi cinched around Kuai’s midsection, pulling it off. Kuai’s own hands went to Hanzo’s armour, trying to unclasp the various clasps holding it in place. Kuai huffed in annoyance as he struggled to figure out how to do it. Hanzo took pity on him, taking his hands to his chest armour and unclipping everything. As the armour fell away, he discarded it, before taking the fabric of his undershirt and removed it too. Hanzo tried not to have an ego, but god the way Kuai’s eyes widened at his bare chest, particularly his abs, definitely stroked it.

“You seem impressed,” Hanzo noted, gently taking Kuai’s hands in his and placing them on his chest. Kuai’s face went that beautiful shade of red it tended to go. “You were so bold moments ago, it’s cute that you can go from that to so shy.”

Kuai’s hands began to explore his chest, squeezing his muscles, fingers brushing against Hanzo’s nipples. Hanzo’s hands reached for the kimono, pulling it away but letting it remain over Kuai’s shoulders. The weather was mild after all, and at least this would Kuai would have something other than Hanzo’s body heat to keep him warm.

Kuai’s body was beautiful, a work of art. He’d suspected Kuai had some sort of muscle, given how powerful his strike could be, but he didn’t expect them to be quite as defined as they were.

As if sensing the silent question, Kuai explained with, “being a healer requires me to carry the injured.”

“I see,” Hanzo purred, reaching his own hands forward to start to feel for himself. His hands squeezed at Kuai’s pecs, before his thumbs went to circle Kuai’s nipples. Kuai immediately groaned and arched his back. “So sensitive.”

Kuai made a cute whimper as Hanzo pinched lightly. This was definitely something Hanzo wanted to explore more, but it might be a bit much for a first time. He let his hands go lower, fingers trailing along Kuai’s skin. His hands hooked into Kuai’s underwear and began to pull them down, enough for Kuai’s cock to spring free. Kuai looked flustered by the fact he was already half hard.

“Don’t feel embarrassed,” Hanzo tried to gently assure, wrapping his hand around Kuai’s cock and giving it a slow stroke. “This is a compliment.” Just Hanzo’s hand seemed to be overwhelming for Kuai, if the way his hands reached for Hanzo’s shoulders was anything to go by. “Are you well?”

“Y-yes,” Kuai replied with a groan. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Hanzo whispered, pressing another kiss to Kuai’s lips as he begun to pump his hand in a steady rhythm, the lovely feeling of Kuai getting harder with every stroke. Kuai gave a gasping moan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” Kuai whispered, his hips thrusting in jerky unsure movements. “Ah. No one’s ever touched me before.”

“Have you ever touched yourself?” Hanzo questioned, twisting his hand and enjoying the way it made Kuai shudder.

“No. We were discouraged. Too high a chance at being caught,” Kuai said between laboured breathes while shaking his head.

“A shame,” Hanzo grumbled. Exploring ones own body was such a natural urge, Hanzo had no idea where mortals got the impression the gods disapproved of such things, but he cursed whomever spread that misinformation.

Hanzo pulled out a vial of oil from his lower pocket, and with one hand still on Kuai’s cock he undid the lid with his other, trying to apply some to his fingers.

“I see you’re prepared,” Kuai said with a sly smiled. “Did your godly powers tell you I was coming?”

Hanzo chucked, he knew how it looked. Truth was, the oil tended to come in useful for other emergencies, it just happened to also be safe to use as a lubricant.

“Maybe,” Hanzo snorted, happy that he’d gotten at least one of his fingers coated in the oil. He reached behind Kuai, using the digit to search for his entrance. As he pressed against it, he felt Kuai stiffen a little. “Relax, and let me know if I’m hurting you.”

Kuai nodded, as Hanzo slowly began to press his finger in. Kuai clenched his hands, fingernails digging into Hanzo’s skin.

“I’m okay,” Kuai stated before Hanzo could ask. “It just feels strange.”

“It will at first,” Hanzo replied, pressing a kiss into Kuai’s neck and starting to pump his cock a little harder, hoping the sensations would help distract from the unusual feeling of the finger. “But I have to open you for me, otherwise I could hurt you.”

“I understand.” Kuai’s body began to settle again, Hanzo slowly began to push his finger in and out, trying to spread the oil and encourage Kuai’s entrance to relax. “My brother explained some things to me, but with women.” Kuai’s face screwed up a little, but not from discomfort. “He doesn’t know I…”

Kuai’s voice trailed off, but Hanzo had a feeling he knew how the sentence would have ended.

“He doesn’t know you are attracted to men?” Hanzo questioned, as he realised Kuai was probably ready for another finger.

“No,” Kuai said with a shake of the head. Hanzo slipped his finger free, reaching for the oil to apply some on a second finger. “Our village doesn’t think it’s proper. If my friend hadn’t turned me down, we would have had to keep our relationship secret.” Hanzo wondered now if that had been the true reason for the rejection. “But I’m not scared of their reactions with you.”

“Oh?” Hanzo prompted, pushing his two fingers back inside Kuai. Kuai jolted slightly in surprise, but to Hanzo’s astonishment seconds later he was pushing himself down, trying to take more of Hanzo’s fingers inside him.

“You are a god, who are they to refuse your desires?” Kuai sighed, his voice starting to sound blissed out. “If those that made our world what it is do not find it shameful, then can it really be as wrong as the Grandmaster says?”

“You should never have felt ashamed of your feelings,” Hanzo hummed, gently pressing a third finger inside. “I will make sure you never experience those fears again.” He used his thumb to circle the head of Kuai’s cock, causing the man to buck in his lap. “Anything you want can not be wrong.”

Kuai made a small content purr, leaning in for another kiss, as his hands continued to explore Hanzo’s body. They made their way to Hanzo’s biceps, and lingered their for a lot longer than anywhere else. He could feel Kuai smiled against his lips, and those fingers traces the definition lines.

Hanzo chanced a forth finger, Kuai showed no resistance. It was soon after that Hanzo decided Kuai was ready for him. He pulled his fingers free and let go of Kuai’s cock, holding in a laugh when Kuai made a short needy sound at the loss. He brought his hands to his own belt, pulling his trousers down just enough to bring out his own cock. Kuai gasped and bit his lip.

Hanzo took one of Kuai’s hands off his bicep, bringing it up to his mouth before kissing the knuckle, before guiding it down. Kuai immediately got the assignment, and once his hand was low enough, he wrapped it around Hanzo’s cock. His inexperience showed, as he didn’t seem sure what to do, but Hanzo was more than happy just having his hand on him.

He grabbed the oil again, pouring a generous amount over his cock. This prompted Kuai to begin to move his hand, using it to spread the oil over. Hanzo groaned, the feeling was pure bliss, but he knew it would be nothing compared to being inside Kuai.

When he was satisfied, he went to grab Kuai by the waist. Kuai moved both his arms around Hanzo’s shoulders, as Hanzo lifted him and brought him closer. He lowered him again, reaching down to his own cock and guiding it toward Hanzo’s entrance.

“Stay relaxed, and tell me if you need to stop at any point,” he instructed, before slowly letting Kuai sink down onto his cock. Kuai let out a breath as he was penetrated, causing Hanzo to pause with just the tip inside. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” Kuai said in shaky voice, “just, slowly, please?”

“Of course,” Hanzo assured, kissing Kuai’s forehead. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

It was a slow process, every so often Kuai would tell Hanzo to keep going, before asking to take a pause. This was fine, the last thing Hanzo wanted to do was hurt Kuai Liang. It took a few minutes, but finally he bottomed out, Kuai comfortably sitting on Hanzo’s thighs with his cock buried deep inside him. Hanzo kept him there, letting him get used to the feeling, rubbing circles in Kuai’s hips to reassure him.

“I’m ready,” Kuai finally confirmed.

“Okay, we’ll take it slow,” Hanzo assured, moving his hands slightly to grab Kuai’s ass.

He used his grip to encourage Kuai to lift himself using his knees. It was only a few inches, before he guided him back down. Kuai shuddered slightly, and Hanzo knew he had probably just brushed up against Kuai’s prostate. To his surprise, Kuai took in initiative to lift himself up again.

“That’s it,” Hanzo encouraged, “just do what feels right.” Hanzo squeezed his hands, Kuai’s ass was wonderful to just knead and play with. “Do what makes you feel good.”

“Hanzo,” Kuai breathed out. Hanzo had to hold back his joy. He called me Hanzo. Not Lord Hasashi. Hanzo!

It was amazing how quickly Kuai took to this. Soon he had started a rhythm, lifting himself up and down, his breaths coming out in quick pants and moans. Hanzo took a chance to buck his hips up as Kuai dropped, and the loud groan that came from Kuai’s lips was heaven.

Hanzo finally let go of Kuai’s ass, one hand reaching for his chin and the other going down to his cock again. He kissed Kuai once again, stroking his cock in time to the thrusts. He eagerly swallowed every desperate sound that came from Kuai’s lips. He could feel the other man trembling, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

His assessment was proven correct when minutes later, Kuai made a particularly loud noise, and Hanzo began to feel his hand growing wet. Kuai clenched around him, and Hanzo brought Kuai all the way down before allowing himself to reach his own climax. He kept stroking Kuai’s cock, making sure his love was fully satisfied before anything else.

Hanzo let himself gently fall back, pulling Kuai with him. Kuai lay atop him, not yet bothering to remove his cock, the connection feeling too nice to break from for now. He wrapped his arms around, holding him close.

“Are you well, my love?” Hanzo asked. If there was anything he could do to please Kuai Liang, he would in a heartbeat.

“I am better than I’ve ever been,” Kuai whispered, his eyes closed and nuzzling into Hanzo’s chest. “You are wonderful.”

“You are the wonderful one,” Hanzo assured, trailing his hand along Kuai’s spine. “I am blessed that you graced the walls of my temple.” The smile of Kuai’s face was beautiful. “How are you feeling about our courting?”

“I love you, and I would love to be your husband one day,” Kuai admitted, “but the prospect of rushing into it still scares me.”

“That is only natural,” Hanzo assured, “like with everything, we can go at your pace. I would be honoured, however, if you agreed to be my consort.”

“I would like that,” Kuai said, sounding half asleep.

Hanzo kissed Kuai’s forehead again, feeling him begin to fall asleep in his arms. He lay back and gazed at the stars, the flames of his love ignited to a degree he had not felt since Harumi.

I truly am blessed.

----------------------------------------------------

Hanzo couldn’t help smirking to himself as he followed behind Kuai. He had never actually been to the Lin Kuei village, and given everything he knew about how Kuai Liang was treated, he couldn’t wait to see the other villagers faces when they saw the two of them together.

He could see the gates to the village, two guards stood out on post. Hanzo decided to hold back a few seconds. He wished to observe the interaction first. Kuai glanced behind him, sensing that Hanzo had stopped, and just nodded. He loved how Kuai just instinctively knew his plan.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the one guard started, his tone harsh and mocking.

“Can’t help but notice you’re alone,” the other taunted, crossing his arms and looking so very smug. “It took you a month to come back empty handed. Looks like the Grandmaster was right, you are useless.”

Kuai said nothing, just turned his body to look behind him. Hanzo took the queue to walk out of the shadows. Oh, the way those smug looks dissolved from their faces was so satisfying. The two men stared at him with open mouths, before they looked at Kuai again.

“Hanzo would like to speak with the Grandmaster regarding the terms of our agreement.”

The two guard’s didn’t move a muscle, their eyes had widened when Kuai had referred to him as Hanzo however. As much as their reaction was amusing, Hanzo was growing impatient with their incompetence. He made a circle motion with his hand, and this warning seemed to be enough to snap them into action.

They led the way through the village, Hanzo always staying a few steps behind Kuai Liang. It was customary usually for a consort to follow their God, but Hanzo wanted to make a point. That Kuai had earned his loyalty, where all others had failed, and as such, Hanzo would follow him to the edge of the earth.

As they made their way, passers by stopped what they were doing to watch. He could hear disbelieving whispers that Lord Hasashi had finally graced their village. Some even followed them, clearly hoping to be witness to what was about to happen.

As they came to a village square, a crowd began to form around them. Two men in particular pushed their way to the front. One Hanzo recognised as Bi-Han, the other was unfamiliar but given he had grey hair, Hanzo matched it to a description of Tomas that Kuai had given him. Both men were looking at Kuai like he’d just accomplished an impossible feat. On the other side, a few people gathered who wore similar hanfu’s to Kuai had worn. One in particular, a man with dark skin and wearing yellow, looked at him with a proud smile on his face. They must have been Kuai’s fellow healer’s and Hanzo made note to get Kuai to introduce them later.

It wasn’t long before the Grandmaster was approaching, and his face was the most delicious of them all. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Lord Hasashi,” he started, sounding like his mind was scrambling to make sense of what was happening. “You have actually heeded our calling.”

“I have,” Hanzo answered, waiting for the excited and surprised mutterings from the crowd to go down. “I think you will find that Kuai Liang has negotiated a very fair deal.”

“I… See,” The Grandmaster said, straightening out as he looked towards Kuai with a very disbelieving look. Disgusting, even with the evidence in front of him, he doesn’t think Kuai capable. Hanzo was going to enjoy making him squirm with his conditions. “What exactly is this deal?”

“I will offer your village the protection you have been craving,” Hanzo began, reaching to place his hand on Kuai’s shoulder. “And in exchange, Kuai Liang shall be my consort.”

There were a few shocked gasps throughout the crowd, and the Grandmaster’s face looked somewhere between disgusted and scandalised. Hanzo glanced around the crowd, looking towards the healers just in time to see the man in yellow whisper to his colleagues “that’s our Kuai”. The other healers seemed happy. On the other side however, neither Tomas or Bi-Han looked happy with this news. Tomas looked devastated, and while Hanzo had some sympathy regarding his situation, the other bitter part of him couldn’t help thinking, good, you lost your chance.

Bi-Han though. Bi-Han looked furious. It looked like he was using all his strength to hold himself back from just walking over and punching Hanzo in the face.

“Is there a problem with this proposal, Grandmaster?” Kuai asked innocently, tilting his head. Hanzo couldn’t quite see his face, but he could imagine the faux smile on his face.

“I-“

“I would like to establish, that the protection is your choice Grandmaster,” Hanzo began, his voice low and threatening, “Kuai Liang has agreed to be my consort, regardless of if you take my deal or not, so it really matter’s little to me what you decide. I would however advise you to make the right decision, Grandmaster.”

The Grandmaster stared at Hanzo in stunned silence, although there was another ripple of whispers surrounding them. It seemed to be sinking in that Hanzo was serious, and that none of this really matter to him. The only reason he was here was because of Kuai Liang.

“Okay,” The Grandmaster finally spoke in a resigned voice, looking like he also realised that if he didn’t take this deal, then Hanzo would never offer another chance. “I agree to your conditions, Lord Hasashi.”

“Excellent. I will send some of my acolytes to make the arrangements of my protection.” Hanzo brushed his hand like he was done with it, but there was one more condition he needed to make clear. “Of course Grandmaster, you do realise that as Kuai Liang is now my consort, I expect him to be treated as such.” He reached down to stroke Kuai’s cheek, enjoying the purr that came from Kuai’s throat at the contact. “He is to be given the highest level of respect. If I even so much as think that he is being disrespected or mistreated in any way, by you or any of your followers, then I will revoke my protection, and you will rue the day you invoked my wrath.”

Hanzo did not give chance for reply, he bent down lifting Kuai into a bridal carry, as he turned on his heels and began to walk away. Kuai softly giggled in his arms, and once again he thought of how this man had brought the light back to his life.

He was complete again.

----------------------------------------------------

“Hanzo!”

As Kuai entered the temple, Hanzo felt his mouth turn up into a smile. Two nearby acolytes giggled and cooed softly over how lovesick Hanzo was. Sometimes he wasn’t sure who was more enthusiastic about the relationship, Kuai Liang and himself or the acolytes.

It had been a few months since they had made their conditions clear with the Lin Kuei, and things had only gotten better. Kuai had so much more confidence, it allowed everyone around to truly take in what an outstanding person he was. They had no more troubles with the Lin Kuei, although Hanzo got the feeling Bi-Han was still not happy about things.

But he didn’t matter. Only Kuai did.

And Kuai was flourishing!

“My love,” Hanzo greeted warming, getting off his chair to go and greet his consort. It still felt so unreal to call this man that. He gave him a peck on the lips. “How was the Lin Kuei?”

“They are doing well,” Kuai said with a smile, while he went into his satchel and pulled out a glass bottle of red liquid. “Cyrax sends his thanks for the ointments,” Kuai began, giving the bottle to Hanzo. He frowned at it. “Apparently, he has taken up brewing alcohols in his spare time, this is his first attempt at wine. He thought being the first to taste it was a fair gift in return.”

Hanzo chuckled, he hadn’t intended to recieve anything in return, but well, who could say no to a glass of wine?

“Well, why don’t we taste it together,” Hanzo offered his arm, and Kuai gladly linked up with him. “Say, over a game of Mahjong?”

Kuai’s face lit up even further, “I couldn’t possibly say no to such a tempting offer.”

And off they went, arm in arm, and Hanzo knew that he had made the right choice in asking Kuai Liang to be his own.

#subscorpweek #subscorp #mortal kombat #kuai liang #sub zero #hanzo hasashi #scorpion #🔥❄️subscorp week 2022

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theplanetprince · 2 years

Text

Cherry Flavored || CH.4

Fic: AO3 || FNN

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Rating: Teens and Up

Word Count as of Update: 23k~

Chapters as of update: 4/8 (subject to change)

Relationships:

Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton

Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton

Dash Baxter & Jazz Fenton

Characters:

Danny Fenton

Dash Baxter

Jazz Fenton

Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sick Character, Fever Dreams, Drunkenness, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Secret Identity Fail, Bad Jokes, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Danny Fenton is a Little Shit, Tired Danny Fenton, Mild Language, Touch-Starved, Handcuffed Together, Get Along Sweater, Ghost Sickness, Paranormal, Platonic Cuddling, Accidental Cuddling, High School, Homework, Canon Rewrite, Worldbuilding, Attempt at Worldbuilding, Implied Slash, References to Drugs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Cooking, Bad Cooking, Food, Studying, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Rivalry, Medical Inaccuracies, Don't Examine This Too Closely, I Don't Even Know

Fic Summary: "Side Effects: Blurred vision, drowsiness or dizziness, shakiness, unsteady walk, unusual excitement, nervousness, restlessness, or irritability (severe).” “DO NOT operate vehicles or other heavy machinery." Left with no other option in their time of need, Jazz calls upon Dash Baxter to babysit her younger brother Danny while he’s bedridden with some kind of flu or mono— or something! What Jazz neglected to mention is that her brother might be experiencing some bizarre side effects…

Author's Note: Uh, guess who forgot to post the updates and changes to this fic? Better late than never, I suppose! -Voorhees 😅

#fic #phic #danny phantom #sick fic #dp #teddy ghost #jazz fenton #danny fenton #dash baxter #fluff #crack #txt #link #mine

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aftgficrec · 3 years

Note

Hello!!!

First off, thanks alot for all the previous fic recs and answers! Much love 💞

I wondered if you could rec some super soft Andreil( Au's including)/ domestic Andreil?! Preferably long fics but I'll be more than happy with anything!

Much much much love!

Thanks anyways!

After all they’ve been through, soft times for andreil just hit different. -A

more goodness:

super domestic andreil here

post canon long domestic andreil here

andreil getting married here

we’ve been dating all along? here

andreil kissing/making out here

long complete parental andreil here

(k)andreil fostering here

fluffiest long post canon college fics here

softest fics for any ship here

long soft fics here

the most romantic smut here

Andrew is soft about Neil here

all you need to know by vhystoire [Rated G, 5729 Words, Incomplete, Updated July 2021]

andrew wants very little in life, so it's always a surprise and a slow process of painful realisation when he does want something. it took him weeks to come to terms with the fact that he wanted a new car. month to accept that he wanted to keep contact with his family. years to decide neil's and his relationship was more than nothing, and actually quite a consequent something.

a decade to realise he wanted to marry neil.

VW Actually Means "Very Weird" by exyjunkies [Rated G, 14710 Words, Complete, AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2019]

If it was just going to be the two of us, then why bring the Volkswagen?

So that if I end up murdering you on this road trip, I’ll have enough space for clean-up.

Neil and Andrew take on the Pacific Coast Highway over the span of two and a half weeks, with a surprise for one of them at the very end.

NB: find art for this fic by @grummpi here

We're the giggle at a funeral by Arirmis [Rated M, 15233 Words, Complete, 2021]

„Darling?“ Andrew calls, still out of sight, and that gets Neil’s attention. Except for some very rare, very soft moments Andrew only uses pet names to be sarcastic.

„Yes love?“ Neil retaliates in the same, slightly mocking tone. Andrew comes into sight, with an unusual mischievous glint in his eyes. „How much do you think you can horrify a whole bunch of conservative homophobes?“

or: What is a professional actor as a fiancé good for, if you can´t terrorize your distant (and close) relatives with him?

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced abortion

Pinch of Salt. by Andrews_maserati [Rated T, 51118, Words, Complete, 2022]

At 25, Neil has everything, well kind of. An adorable two year old baby boy, two best friends who live on another continent where's he moving to and a chance at a new life, away from his past.

But what happens when a particular blond baker enters his life, or rather Neil enters his? And when Henry and Neil both find themselves slowly falling for the grumpy baker, namely Andrew Minyard?

Guess sometimes all you need is a little boy, old crushes and salted caramel cupcakes to find what you've been looking for.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm

under the kitchen lights (you still look like dynamite) by ephemeralsky [Rated T, 26365 Words, Complete, AFTG Big Bang 2019]

(Andrew's recent Google search history: ambient sounds to help you sleep, what qualifies you for a service dog, why do cats like to sit in boxes, daily horoscope scorpio, does quoting shakespeare mean you're being flirted with, buzzfeed quizzes food, how to be neighborly)

((or: in which Andrew and Neil are neighbors who do various neighborly things))

tw: ableist language, tw: mild violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: panic attack, tw: dissociation, tw: implied suicidal ideation

the world goes on series by nightquills [Rated G/T/E, 19195 Words, Collection, Updated Nov 2021]

A loosely connected series about Andrew and Neil after canon.

part 1: you don't have to say "i love you" [T, 822 words, Complete 2017]

part 2: just because it's unexpected doesn't make it bad [T, 1127 words, Complete 2018, AFTG Exchange]

part 3: i thought i was a fool for no one (but baby i’m a fool for you) [T, 3502 words, Incomplete, Updated April 2020]

part: 4: want to play you over and over again [E, 4557 words, Complete, 2021]

tw: explicit sexual content

part 5: you've got mail [T, 2574 words, Incomplete, Updated April 2020]

part 6: home (is whenever i'm with you) [G, 2066 words, Complete 2017, AFTG Exchange]

part 7: cruising altitude [T, 2639 words, Complete 2020, AFTG Exchange]

part 8: laundry day [G, 1240 words, Complete 2020]

And the Sun Burned Low by SelflessAmbition [Not Rated, 5094 Words, Complete, AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2019]

Post series, Neil and Andrew continue collecting things to call home. This time, it's a cabin surrounded by a densely wooded forest and lake. As the years roll by, the pair learn new things, not only about each other.

NB: art prompt by @bloodydamnit

Art

thinks about tfc for 0.5 seconds art by @yaboybokuto

Some soft Andrew and Neil<3 art by @linneart

photos spill out of my pockets art by @requiemofkings

I like to think they’ll get here and cuddly eventually art by @rhyva

Neil carrying Andrew art by @teomoy

Cuddling and cats! art by @chemdoodles

a cute family picture art by @uzea-ke

69 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hey Steph, got any good old (maybe new?) bedsharing fics for a fanfic obsessed lurker?

Thanks 😘

Hey Nonny!!

Hahha! I actually just did a list recently of my old ones, but I just double-checked my offline lists and I actually DO have some fics on my next Bed Sharing list, so GUESS WHAT? Your ask is the one to start the next Bed Sharing one, LOL.

As usual, if anyone has any they’d like to add, especially if they’re brand new fics, let us know! <3

BEDSHARING Pt. 5

See also:

The Speckled Blonde / BedSharing

BedSharing Pt. 2 and Insecure Sherlock

Bed Sharing Pt. 3

Bed Sharing Pt. 4

Bed Sharing “Just Happens”

Soft. Happy. Content. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 223 w., 1 Ch. || Sleepy Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Spooning, Morning After, Sherlock POV) – Sherlock reflects on his state of mind.

And When The Night Is Over by Simply Isnt On (K, 329 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Platonic Bed Sharing / Not Slash) – Sherlock and John sleep together.

I Knew You Loved Me by inevitably_johnlocked (T, 743 w., 1 Ch. || Morning Cuddles, Fluff, Clingy Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slice of Life, Morning After, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Declarations of Love, Pet Name, Bed Sharing, Snuggles) – John and Sherlock share a lie-in the morning after their first time. So fluffy and gross your teeth will fall out. Part 4 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Sleep Tonight by Jenn1984 (T, 1,220 w, 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Worried Sherlock, Sick John, Hugs/Cuddles, Touch Neediness) – Fingers begin prying open his jacket looking for a wound and John would really like to swat at them. No, he's not hit anywhere, he's just damn sick.- John Watson has a fever.

Loved. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 1,231 w., 1 Ch. || First Sherlock POV, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nose Kisses, Morning After, Love Confessions, Morning Cuddles, Emotional Sherlock, Sentiment, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock reflects on his relationship with John. Part 5 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Here to Stay by MockJayPhoenix12 (K, 1,574 w., 1 Ch. || Post Reunion, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Headache, Bed Sharing, Care Taker Sherlock, Hand Holding, Fluff) – On Sherlock's first day home, John wakes with a migraine.

The Perfect Place by SilverSmile (K+, 1,955 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Romance, 5 and Ones, Fluff, Experiments, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock attempts to find the perfect place to sleep, but his little experiment proves to be far more difficult than expected.

Insomnia by TheSingingGirl (K+, 2,635 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Humour, Bed Sharing, Sleepy Sherlock) – Sleep is merely the next frontier in what has become the battle to keep Sherlock alive. It's because of this that John ends up in bed with a sociopath.

Human Body Pillow by Lunavere (K, 4,122 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Five and Ones, Sleepy Johnlock, Bed Sharing) – A story about the five times John fell asleep on Sherlock, and the one time Sherlock fell asleep on him.

The Myth by AGirloftheSouth (M, 4,329 w., 1 Ch || Sex Toys / Anal Beads, PWP, Romance, Bottom John, Prostate Stimulation) – Sherlock believes something to be a myth. John proves him wrong.

When We Sleep by PrincessNala (K+, 6,660 w., 1 Ch || Post-TGG, Alternating POV, Bed Sharing, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Hugs) – Sherlock needed to feel every beat of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was the only way to completely assure himself that John was alive and right there next to him, and not dead, no, never dead…

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names, Panic Attack) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

A Silver Sixpence by _doodle (NC-17, 16,400 w., 2 Ch. || LJ Fic || For a Case / Case Fic, Fake Relationship, Humour, Romance, Marriage Proposal, Awkward Idiots, Cuddling, Touching, Kissing, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fake Until It’s Not, Schmoop and Fluff, Bottomlock) – “John, we need to get married. It’s for a case, not any romantic notions on my part pertaining to our partnership,” Sherlock said, with brutal honesty, and without even looking up.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #bed sharing fics #bedsharing #Anonymous #e-rated fics #longg post

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elsanna-shenanigans · 2 years

Text

April Contest Submission #26: Brazen

Words: ca. 5,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no Content: mild drug references, implied homophobia

It was a regular, sunny Thursday morning when the whole debacle started. Nothing out of the ordinary. The train was on time. My blueberry and cream-cheese bagel was fresh and delicious, and I shovelled it down at my desk, clicking away through banal emails about company fun-runs, goodbye-parties for employees I’d never met and rambling updates from the CEO.

I was working out the front with Hans, which was never ideal. Still irritated by his comment last week about women being natural manipulators, I told myself he was just “compassion fatigued”, grit my teeth, and chose to face the day with a positive attitude. That’s all I could do, right?

Hans set his enormous protein shake down on the desk and leaned back in his chair, sighing loudly. “Oh my god, you’ll never guess what happened at the gym this morning.”

I put on my best smile and began to click through random pages on our database, looking at yesterday’s notes, trying to look a bit busy and hoping he would get the hint. Listening to Hans’ gym-bro stories was more tedious than uploading invoices into the finance system.

“So, there I was, just wiping down my bench, and this ridiculously hot chick comes up to me, like, seriously, you would not believe the honka-bazonkas on this bird-”

His story was mercifully cut short by the buzzer signalling to us that someone had entered. We both leaned back to see a girl in the entry-way, looking lost and confused. They all look like that when they’re new, and judging by the school uniform, tear stains on her cheeks, and the way her eyes flickered around in uncertainty, this was most definitely her first rodeo.

“Check out Little Miss Grammar School over there.”

I sighed, disappointed but not surprised that he couldn’t even wait five minutes before judging the poor kid. “She looks pretty upset.”

“Probably because Daddy won’t buy her a new pony.”

I looked over at Hans, irritated with him before it was even nine o-clock. Typical. “Didn’t you go to Trottington Boys College?”

“Yeah, that’s how I know.” He gave me a smirk, and I just wanted to punch his stupid face. “She’ll be back home before lunchtime. Guarantee it.”

I sighed again, not in the mood to bother arguing, and went to greet the girl. Her bright red hair dangled in girlish plaits over her shoulders, and her school-bag was practically bursting at the seams. A planned runaway, perhaps? Or possibly just stuffed full with school stuff. Laptop, textbooks, maybe sports-gear. She looked young, and I prayed she was over eighteen, and it wouldn’t end up being a matter for police and child protection. That’s always such a gruelling process.

“Hey there.” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Hi.” She reminded me of a little baby fox, or a kitten or something criminally innocent with those big, wide eyes. Secretly, I hoped Hans was right, as irritating as it would be. The homelessness system would chew this girl up and spit her right out. “I’m Anna.”

“What brings you in here so bright and early this morning, Anna?”

“My parents kicked me out.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Up close, I could see that her fancy uniform was in fact quite dirty. Her skirt was crumpled, like she might have slept in it. There were a few sauce stains on her jumper and she didn’t smell too crash-hot, either. This girl, it seemed, was the real deal. “On Monday.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” I told her, and I meant it. I always did. It never ceased to baffle me how quick parents could be to cast out their own flesh and blood. My own included. Ten years later, it still stings. “Can you tell me a bit about what’s happened?”

“They told me not to come back, that they couldn’t even look at me. They won’t even let me get my clothes or my charger or anything!” Anna broke down into tears at this point, as they often do. I brought her into one of our small, cosy counselling rooms and sat with her while the tears poured, and my curiosity piqued. What could have caused such a dramatic family breakdown? She seemed like a nice kid. Drugs, perhaps? Pregnancy?

I made her a bowl of Coco Pops, and offered her a coffee but she didn’t drink coffee apparently. Only hot chocolate.

Bless.

After she was fed and watered, and the tears had stopped at least for a moment, I had to get down to business. I sat across from her and took out my notebook, “So my name is Kristoff, and I’ll be doing your assessment today.”

I found out she had just turned eighteen - thank goodness - and had been sleeping in a cheap motel for the last few nights, paid for by her girlfriend’s leftover Christmas money. Immediately, my heart went out. I have a soft spot for the queer kids. I know how hard it can be.

She even showed me the text messages from her parents. Heart breaking, but good to know, should Hans come trying to pick her story apart.

Dad: We don’t know where we went wrong as parents but we cannot have you under our roof, especially with the younger kids around. They don’t need to see that filth.

Where am I supposed to go???

Dad: If you two are so grown up, you can figure it out yourselves.

Are you seriously kicking me out in the street?? Over a KISS??

Dad: Actions have consequences.

Yikes. I couldn’t believe there were people in this day and age who were still so closed-minded. I was determined to help her. To keep both of them safe. “So where’s your girlfriend staying? Does she need emergency accommodation as well?”

“She’s at uni today.”

“Yeah?” Damn, I hoped I hadn’t been too quick to make assumptions. Maybe the reason the parents had reacted so badly was due to age, rather than gender. “How old is she?”

“Twenty.”

Whew.

“She’s studying music down at Southbank. She has class this morning, but she’ll meet me here after. She’s, like, a music prodigy. She studies so hard and composes amazing songs. And she plays about sixteen instruments. She picks them up so easily, it’s like magic.”

Her face lit up when she talked about her girlfriend. Eyes shining like a cartoon character stumbling across a treasure chest. Noticing that the tears were gone, I encouraged her to continue, “How did you guys meet?”

“We met at church, actually.” Anna chuckled to herself, acknowledging the irony. “Our families know each other. I’ve loved her since I can remember.”

=x=

The girlfriend, Elsa, arrived in the afternoon. I recognised her straight away standing from Anna’s waxing poetic descriptions. The long, pale-blonde braid. Eyes “the colour of an ocean storm”. Okay, so the violin case might have also been a clue. Unlike her rambling lover, she gave short, curt answers. Part of my job is to make young people feel safe, to get a general story of their lives, but all I managed to discern was that her parents were religious. Fairly well off - she’d gone to the same private school as Anna. Didn’t seem particularly worldly. No job. Not a lot of friends or much of a support network. Poor thing was obviously anxious. She played with her braid throughout the whole appointment and looked down at her lap, shoulders hunched like they were carrying the weight of the world. She told me she was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder and took medication daily. Pretty normal stuff. We were just about finished when she burst into tears, and told me, “It’s all my fault. I’ve let her down. I’ve let her down. How could I let this happen!”

“It’ll be okay,” I tried to reassure her. “We’ll sort something out. None of this is your fault, Elsa.”

“It is.” She looked at me with pleading eyes. “It is my job to look after her.”

I didn’t bother arguing. Not now. It was first love - it was going to be a little melodramatic.

After Anna had collected some less conspicuous clothes, and the two of them took some food and toiletries for the road, I booked them in one of the less seedy hotels for the night and hoped for the best.

And that’s how it went for the next few weeks as they cycled through the system, like any other kids, slowly crawling their way up the waitlists for youth refuge.

They came in now and then for food, toothpaste, to wash their clothes, and collect their mail. As relaxed as anyone in their situation could be. Well, Anna was. She was a ray of sunshine, once she got over the initial shock, and we all enjoyed chatting to her and hearing about all her escapades. Hopes and dreams. She managed to transition to TAFE rather cheerfully, and was cautiously confident about finishing her high school certificate. Sometimes she even serenaded us with the little old ukulele we keep in reception. I suspected she may have tried marijuana a few times in the alley behind our building with the other kids. I had to gently redirect her, on one of these occasions, from eating Nutella out of the jar. Apart from that there were no incidents.

Anna was freer with her affection. A more expressive person in general, I figured. Elsa was more… businesslike. Tense and serious, a girl of few words. Her back was straight as a board, and she only smiled when she was looking at her girlfriend. She sometimes stiffened, gulped, and looked from side to side as though someone might catch and punish them.

I couldn’t help but wonder just how badly her parents had reacted.

=x=

“There’s something fishy about them.”

Hans was truly getting on my last nerve. He was from a youth justice background, and brought more punitive values with him. Always poking holes in clients’ stories, turning them away because they called up too late, or had a meltdown, or used another service. Or because they had a nice watch or a pair of shoes or a hat, something special to them they hadn’t hocked yet. Heaven forbid they keep one piece of their identity, one nice thing, before being deserving of help.

“What’s fishy about them?” I asked, not particularly engaged.

“Well, they went to the same school, right?”

“Yeah, that’s…” I rolled my eyes, “a pretty common way for kids to meet each other.”

“So, they come from these nice, middle-class families and went to this nice school, but they don’t have a single friend or relative between them who can help them out?”

It took all I had to bite my tongue. I didn’t want to just shout ‘homophobia!’ at the drop of a hat, being the only gay dude in the organisation.

But he really seemed to have it in for these poor girls.

“Obviously not,” I said, trying not to clench my jaw, “or they wouldn’t be here. Do you think it’s fun bouncing from one shitty hotel or short-term refuge to another for months on end? Do you think they just do it for kicks?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged and chugged his protein shake.

I came to the conclusion that he was jealous. Poor dude was constantly bulking and curling and getting facial peels or whatever, reading books and watching tutorials about how to pick up women. Swiping Tinder and Bumble and Match every spare minute. To no avail.

And these girls had just found each other without even trying. They were always so affectionate. Not in a gross, horny-teen, eating-each-other’s faces-way. But stolen kisses on cheeks, heads in each other’s laps, stroking each other’s faces and gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes kind of way.

It was so cute I almost died.

=x=

Elsa was late to her appointment, which was unlike her. She’d been crying, as well, which very much was like her.

I took her into a counselling room, where she explained she’d had to defer from university. Lost her scholarship, which was supposed to be paid to her in a month - her grades permitting. She’d been planning on using it for a rental deposit. The school had been letting her use hire-instruments to practise but it just wasn’t practical. She couldn’t cart them around. The hotels weren’t safe - a violin she’d been using had been stolen, and now she had a debt.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Elsa.” I felt responsible. It’s the hardest part of this job, the lack of options, the feeling of letting these kids down, constantly. But I swallowed it down and tried to reassure her. “It’ll be okay, though. You’ve got your whole future ahead of you. This isn’t the end.”

“That was our way out!” She was prone to catastrophizing. But in her defence, I guess, she was homeless. “I’ve sent my resume out to a hundred places in the last two weeks and heard nothing! We were counting on this money- I was counting on this money. I’m the worst- I feel like I’m ruining her life.”

I glanced over my shoulder, through the window, to the front space. Anna was smiling, pointing to the TV, chatting away with another client with a hot chocolate in hand. The situation wasn’t ideal, but ruining her life may have been a bit dramatic.

“Anna’s family are the ones to blame for putting her in this situation. They’re the ones who should be looking after her.” I said, with a bubble of irritation swelling in my chest, trying not to project my own feelings from my own life. “It’s not your responsibility. You’re only twenty. You’re doing great, supporting each other.”

“You don’t understand.” She looked down at her lap, tears dripping from her eyes. Nothing unusual. Of course we don’t understand, us silly workers. No one understands. She wiped her eyes, sobbed a little more, and repeated, “you don’t understand.”

I thought I understood. But she was right. I didn’t. Not yet.

=x=

Neither Elsa nor Anna was at the top of the refuge waitlist yet, but when the spots came up - 2x female, low mental health needs, low or no alcohol or drug use - I couldn’t help myself. I sent off two referrals, quickly, without getting the okay from my team or boss.

It was busy as usual. No one would notice. And I’m allowed to have favourites, okay? It’s not like they’re my kids. And how often do we get two spots in the same refuge?

Suzie noticed. She looked over at me, scrolling through the daily referrals and sipping on a mug of tea, and pointed out that we don’t usually house young couples together. It’s policy. Most of them are too unstable, then there’s all the drama if they break up. In general, it’s a recipe for disaster.

“Yeah,” I scratched the back of my head, trying not to look guilty.

But they’re so cute together, I didn’t say.

“But I think it’s probably one of the healthier relationships we’ve seen come through these doors.”

Suzie agreed with a chuckle, and Dave, too, who had been eavesdropping in the next cubicle, apparently. They wouldn’t be cycling through this system, month after month, year after year, with no end in sight. Like so many of our clients. This would just be a blip on the radar. They had bright futures ahead of them.

The only one who didn’t agree was Hans.

=x=

I didn’t hear from them for a couple of months. In my line of work, this is a good thing. I assumed it meant things were going well at the refuge. I didn’t see why they wouldn’t be. Anna was engaged in education. Elsa spending every waking hour looking for work. Neither using hard drugs, which, in this sector, is short of a miracle.

I hadn’t exactly forgotten about them. You don’t just forget about favourites, in this job. You always wonder what happened to them, how they’re doing, and usually you never find out. But let’s say, they weren’t at the forefront of my mind. The only thing was a phone call that Suzie took, I only heard briefly about it. The refuge called, asking for our health team to write a quick script for Elsa. Her refills had run out, or something, and she apparently didn’t know how to contact her psychiatrist. Looking back, I guess, it did seem a bit out of character, given how conscientious she came across. But she’d been through a lot. Psychiatrists take leave, or move to different practices. Her parents might have dealt with all that stuff before. All sorts of reasonable explanations. Suzie was following up, and I put them out of my mind again, hoping they were doing well. No reason to think they weren’t.

=x=

“Sisters.”

Hans stood in front of me, arms crossed, a stupid smirk on his face like the cat who ate the canary. I’d been in the middle of writing a long-ass case note and truthfully, I had no fucking clue what he was talking about. Probably another one of his weird fetishes. A made up gym story. “What do you want, Hans?”

“They’re sisters.” He said again, as though that meant anything, slamming a few sheets of paper onto my desk. “I told you there was something fishy about them. I knew it in my bones. And I thought it was weird that Elsa didn’t know how to contact her own psychiatrist, I mean, we know she’s not stupid.”

“You’re the one who sounds stupid right now. Or- or crazy! I’ve scanned their ID into the system, they have different last names. Anna Aren. Elsa-”

“-So anyway,” he cut me off, “I did some digging. Found a record at Southeast Mental Health services-”

“-Elsa didn’t sign the consent form for us to contact other services-”

“-Elsa Aren. She took her mother’s name, Frost, after the parents divorced. Cheeky little shit only gave us her school ID. It’s still Aren on all her official records. I even called the school, because I thought it had to be a mistake, but apparently it was a whole thing. Everyone knew about it. That’s why they have no friends or anything. I knew something didn’t add up.”

My heart sank. My stomach dropped. I didn’t know what to think. I got up, wordlessly, and headed to the kitchen. It was too early for this shit. I needed coffee, and a minute to think.

At first, I felt betrayed, I’ll admit. I know you can’t get too invested in the clients, but it’s a matter of pride in the job. I thought I’d built a connection. I thought they trusted me. I thought I’d made them feel safe. But they’d lied to me for months-

“Yeah, I know! Sisters! Gross, right?” Hans had followed, apparently, and was sharing this new juicy gossip with the whole goddamn office. Suddenly, the omission felt a lot less personal.

“Hans.” I stopped him in the kitchen, blocking the door. “What are you doing? This is confidential information, not one of your stupid gym stories.”

“My gym stories are fucking lit-”

“-I’m serious! Do you think this is funny? That kind of stigma’s no joke. The story spreads around and it could really fuck things up for them.”

“I kinda think it already has, bro. Maybe they should have thought about that before bumping donuts.”

I breathed out angrily through my nose, with any potential replies crashing into each other in my head, still kind of in shock. Still not sure how I felt about the whole thing. A bit grossed out, to be honest, and then a bit shitty with myself because my job is specifically to not judge young people with all sorts of strange and uncomfortable life stories.

“Hans, they’re my clients. Just, promise me you’ll tone it down, okay? Don’t go blabbing all about this. Or I’ll tell the boss you watch porn on the clock.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever.”

I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes. That I meant business. He was already on a series of warnings from HR for constantly eating Suzie’s food out of the fridge, and making fun of Dave’s male pattern baldness, and probably a bunch of other stuff I didn’t know about. He couldn’t afford another.

But I still couldn’t shake the unease.

=x=

Unease bubbled into a panic in my throat the next time I saw Anna, in reception, arguing with Hans. Her voice was rising higher and higher with stress, as he stood there with his weight on one hip, that smug look on his stupid face. From what I could gather, he was turning her away.

My heart sank as I took in the details. She’d lost weight. Had dark circles under her eyes. Hair was a bit greasy, shoved into a messy ponytail and her clothes had that worn-for-a-few-days look. “Kristoff!” She budged past him, toward me, with pleading eyes, “I really need a housing appointment. We only need a few nights somewhere, Elsa’s getting paid on Thursday, she’s just started a job in a house factory! I mean, a box-house. A warehouse where they make boxes-”

“-Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down,” I told her, but she didn’t slow down. She kept rambling on at a million miles an hour, a stress response for her. I reverted to our default question. Bringing it back to basics. The reason we’re here. “Where did you sleep last night?”

“McDonalds.”

I gave Hans a scathing look and took her aside for a quick chat. She told me she and Elsa had been kicked out of the refuge, and claimed she didn’t know why - but in my heart, in my bones, I knew.

And in her eyes, I knew she knew.

Still, it seemed a little harsh to kick them out onto the street. Of course, some kind of therapeutic intervention would be expected, but I know for a fact they’d dealt with much more challenging behavioural problems than sisters dating each other. Both girls had been nothing but polite, friendly and agreeable in my experience. A little heavy on the PDA, sometimes (in hindsight, rather brazen), but they’d sprung apart whenever I’d cleared my throat pointedly at them. So I decided to call the refuge and have a chat. Suss it out. See if they wouldn’t rethink it.

Just as I suspected. They were contacted by “one of our workers,” (no guesses who) who told them about the… the nature of the girls’ relationship. They were concerned, obviously. Referred them both to BrighterWays Family Therapy Centre and created a plan to transition Elsa to an adult refuge, when a spot eventually came up. In the meantime, they’d booked her into Sandy Shore Motel.

Yikes. Colloquially known as “stabby-shore”, it wouldn’t have been my first choice for her. Or for anyone, really. But there are only so many places that take bookings from a homelessness service. Most prefer to avoid the risk.

So Elsa packed her bags contritely, the refuge-worker told me, and Anna stood there in tears, like her sister-lover was going off to war or something. Distraught. Begging them to reconsider. Standing in the rain as Elsa’s bus rolled away. She almost stayed behind. Almost. She lasted two nights after that, then she was gone.

In between one client punching a hole in the wall and another nodding off on smack, I struggled to find the time for her appointment and could see Anna growing more restless. Pacing around and texting furiously. Drinking cheap coffee after cheap coffee in our little paper cups - she drank coffee, now, apparently. “Sorry it’s taken me so long,” I said to her, and I truly was sorry. “Why don’t you head downstairs with some fresh clothes and take a shower. I’ll just finish up this handover with the health team and then we’ll do your appointment, okay?”

“You have showers here?” She was stunned, as though I’d just told her we have dragons here.

“Sure do.” I led her downstairs and opened a cabinet full of soaps, shampoos, body washes, moisturisers and the likes, and she stared like it was a pot of gold. “Take whatever you like.”

After her shower, Anna looked (and smelled) much fresher. But she was still agitated. Picking at her chipped nail polish and shifting in her seat. Eyes darting around the counselling room which suddenly felt very small.

“Anna, you’re still welcome at the refuge.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I just spoke to the worker, they’ll have you back-”

“-No, you don’t understand! I can’t go back there. They… they see me differently, now.”

“Yeah?” Honestly, at this point, I was just curious if she would come out and say it. “Why’s that?”

She was balled up in the chair, looking as small and vulnerable as the day we met. Worse, in fact, because she looked ashamed now. “I think you already know.”

“About you and Elsa?” I said. “Yeah. Look, Anna, I can’t imagine what it’s been like carrying this secret. And after the way it was received back home, I totally get why you’re having some reservations. But the workers aren’t going to judge you-”

“-you say that, but you weren’t there, Kristoff! You didn’t see the way they look at me now, with revulsion and disgust in their eyes. And how they talk to me, all careful, like I’m some kind of ticking time-bomb.”

I nodded, hoping that wasn’t true. Knowing it probably was.

“Would you be open to looking at other refuges?”

“I can’t leave Elsa there in that shitty place all by herself. It’s scary! And it’s…” Anna sighed. Her jaw tightened. There was none of the previous light in her eyes. None of the cheekiness in her face. “It’s hard for us to be apart.”

I went to argue, having heard this sentiment so many times before from young couples who felt like the world would end if they couldn’t be joined at the hip twenty-four-seven. But something stopped me. The fact that they were sisters, not just girlfriends, is what stopped me. My brain was still imploding, to be fair. Trying to make sense of it.

“We shared a room, back home.” Anna continued. “Not because the house was small. There was a spare room. Two spare rooms, actually. And a sunroom. We just… preferred it that way. I’ve spent all of two nights without her in my whole life and I-” she paused and shook her head, “It was like I couldn’t breathe. And knowing she felt the same, just…”

She trailed off.

“Anna…” I waited for her to meet my eyes, and I could see that any trust left was hanging by a thread. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

“I know.” All traces of teen melodrama now faded away, there was only solemn understanding in her voice. A wisdom beyond her years. “But it’s true love.”

I pursed my lips, listening. It wasn’t that I approved of it exactly. And I didn’t understand, not really. But I could see that there was a devotion there. A willingness to make sacrifices, to give up everything for each other, to take this path less trodden. The path of uncertainty. Of risk. And what can I say? Something about that, well, it moved me.

Unfortunately, I knew my boss would make no concessions for true love. If they kept using the service there would have to be some kind of meeting about it. They would be booked separately, would be expected to engage in some kind of therapy, the likes. I told her this. I didn’t want to make promises I couldn’t keep.

In the end, I booked her for three nights, like she asked, and practically begged her to come in next week, anyway, even if they had a place to stay. For a welfare check. I even promised her a Target voucher. The kids love Target vouchers.

“Yeah, yeah.” She said without looking me in the eye. Checking her phone. “For sure. We’ll keep in touch. Anyway, I’d better go figure out how to find this hotel. Elsa’s finished work. It’s cold. She’s waiting for me.”

Of course she was

I never heard from them again.

Not for lack of trying. I called the other housing services, refuges, everywhere, trying to follow up. I called SouthEast Mental Health. I called the BrighterWays family therapy centre, and all the other family therapy centres, too. I called their phones, of course, but Elsa never picked up and I think Anna changed her number.

I won’t lie, it haunts me a little. Two girls, out there, in the big scary city. One meagre income. No support. Shit all street smarts. The only solace, I guess, is that I know they’ve got each other.

=x=

“Well, Mr Bjorgman, you’re quite the storyteller.” The CEO of CityCare looks down briefly at his bulky, expensive-looking watch, sitting across from me in a small, soundproof room, in his crisp, pressed suit.

“Well, it was quite a story.” I say, wondering if that’s a dig at my truthfulness. Wondering if I’ll be reprimanded for bumping the girls up the waitlist. Suddenly feeling the urge to scrutinise all my decisions. Should I have done more digging? Noticed that something was off? Showed less favouritism? “I still don’t know if they’re, like, still alive? Or…”

“Have there any other breaches in client-confidentiality that you know of?” He ignores my question, as his hard-faced assistant keeps typing on her little laptop.

“No.” I shake my head. “Is there a reason why you’re looking into this, now? Has something happened, have they made a complaint?”

“We can’t reveal anything about the investigation at this point.”

“Right.” My heart thumps. I have a sinking feeling in my gut. I want to ask again, if they’re okay, but I bite my tongue.

“Mr Bjorgman, you mentioned Mr Westergaard accessing pornogrphic material on the job. Can you tell us more about that?”

I take a deep sigh, and a sip of my water. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

#elsanna #april 2022 contest #prompt: home #submission #cw: homophobia

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