#my hands have been in such bad pain this week and i finally caved and put tape on them to see if it'll help and i really hope it does

[mommyslittlebird]

Long Distance Mommy!Wanda: Punishment

Of course, I could finish my chapter for this week, but I could write 2k words of puppy!reader yesterday and 1k words of this today 😵‍💫😵‍💫

"You've been a very naughty girl today, haven't you?" Wanda clicks her tongue over the phone.

You swallowed. You wanted to argue. The only reason you had gotten distracted in class was because she was sending you naughty things all day. But you held your tongue. You knew better than to argue. "Yes, mommy."

"Mmm," she hummed, pleased you thought better of trying to pin this on her. "And you know mommy has to punish naughty girls, don't you?"

You nodded. "Yes, mommy."

"That's a good girl. Now, I need you to go to the toy drawer and pick out exactly what I tell you to, okay? You'll need a plug- the blue one tonight-, the paddle, and your clamps."

Your eyes went wide. It wasn't uncommon that Wanda would make you put in the plug or wear the nipple clamps, but she very rarely made you use both at the same time. You whined. "Mommy..."

"Aww, what is it baby?" She cooed with faux sympathy.

"It's gonna hurt..." you whimpered quietly.

She nearly laughed. "Of course it's going to hurt, baby. It is a punishment, after all. But you're gonna be a good girl for mommy, aren't you?"

"Yes, mommy," you grumbled reluctantly, grabbing the toys and bringing them to the bed. Since dating Wanda, you'd acquired a good number of new toys, including a nice adjustable stand for your phone that allowed you to film yourself on your bed. You set up your phone, putting Wanda on speaker and hitting the video call button.

Wanda smiled as you appeared on her screen, already naked and preparing yourself for her. "Hey, pretty girl."

You blushed, carefully avoiding the camera as you applied lube to the plug and slowly pushed it into your ass.

She clicked disapprovingly. "Uh uh, sweet girl. You know better than that. Turn over and spread your cheeks. Mommy wants to see your pretty plug."

You did as she asked, glad that at least she couldn't see how red your face was getting from this angle, even though you were sure she already knew.

She hummed. "Mmm, good girl. You're lucky I don't make you take it out and put it back in, since you decided to hide it from me the first time."

You whimpered at the thought. "Thank you, mommy. I'm sorry."

When she finally had her fill, she spoke again. "Okay, sweetheart. You can turn back over now. Show mommy how you put on your clamps."

You turned back over, showing her the clamps first so she could make sure they were adjusted to their most intense setting. You pinched your nipple, crying out as the cruel metal sank into the sensitive bud. You did the same thing on the other side, nearly crying with how sensitive you were.

The plug stung slightly, stretching you just past what was comfortable. But the clamps hurt even worse, burning and stinging your sensitive chest. You were already squirming in front of Wanda. "Mommy, can I touch myself, please? Please mommy. It hurts so bad." The lack of pleasurable stimulation made the pain almost unbearable.

Wanda, who could see how quickly you were already approaching a breaking point, caved. "Yes, baby. Play with yourself for me. Tell mommy how it feels."

The pressure to your clit immediately brought you relief, allowing the stinging pain to take on a slightly pleasurable edge. It was truly amazing how much of a difference it made. You moaned. "Much better, mommy. It still h-hurts. But... not s-so bad."

"Mmm, that's a good girl. Keep touching yourself for me, baby. Get yourself nice and sensitive."

You did as she asked, bucking against your own hand in a desperate attempt to get yourself off. With the stimulation on nearly every sensitive part of your body, you could feel your orgasm steadily approaching. You hoped Wanda would have mercy on you, deciding that the combination of the clamps and plug was enough of a punishment for tonight. "Can I cum, mommy?"

Wanda was slightly taken aback by your question. Sure, she'd been teasing you all day, but you were hardly ever this fast. "So close already, baby?"

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip.

"Stop." She commanded.

You whined but did as she instructed.

"Pick up the paddle. I want you to hold yourself open for me and spank your little clit twenty times. I'll count out loud. If I don't think it was hard enough, it doesn't count. Understand?"

You whined, picking up the paddle in your right hand, using your left hand to spread your lips apart, putting your swollen clit on display for her. Hesitantly, you brought the paddle down with a soft thud. She didn't start counting. You tried again, harder this time. She didn't say "one" until the third time, when the leather made a loud thwack again your glistening folds.

You continue to bring down the paddle again and again, eyes watering and thighs shaking until they uncontrollably snap closed. "No more, mommy. Please."

"Three more." She commands. She takes a small bit of mercy on you. She'd only counted 15.

Shaking, you spread your thighs again, bringing the paddle down again. Your legs snap closed in between each painful strike, but you manage three more.

Her harsh demeanor final fades away after she counts the third strike. She allows you to throw the paddle down and collapse onto the bed with your thighs pressed tightly together in an attempt to relief the pain. "You did so good for me angel. You can take the clamps off and the plug out whenever you're ready, baby. Mommy's got you, sweetheart."

Even from far away, she was always so tender in her aftercare. She directed you through all the steps, carefully talking you through everything from applying ointment to wrapping yourself up in your favorite blanket. She told you leave the toys on the nightstand wrapped in a blanket. They could wait until morning.

You wrapped yourself around the stuffed bear she'd bought you, inhaling the strawberry scent she'd picked out to put inside. You let her soft words of praise and love wrap around you, pretending she was laying right beside you. You peacefully drifted off to the sound of her gentle voice singing to you.

Even from miles away, she would always let you know you are her precious angel, more loved than anything else in the world.

[reverie-starlight]

THE BOY HAS RETURNED!!! how I managed to go 5 months without writing for him I will never know. anyway, here’s some atsumu fluff to heal my soul after finishing my last assignment last week and more recently a rough few days of back-to-back exams.

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. university student!reader, MSBY!atsumu. very fluffy, ultra sappy. y’all know the drill. uhhhh very suggestive towards the end. this is very short bc I'm slowly trying to get back into writing after a creative block. I've missed him SO much, you have no idea :(

you reach your arms above your head and hiss at the dull pain that follows your much needed stretch. slumping back down into your chair, you sigh and allow yourself a moment to take in the fact that you can actually relax for the next day or two, completely guilt free.

you shut your laptop and make your way over to the bedroom, eager to finally crawl into atsumu’s arms. you feel bad for him- you’ve been so busy with your assignments and finals lately that you’ve hardly been able to spend any quality time with him.

he’s been a good sport about it of course- he knows how important your education is, but you also know extremely well how much of a dramatic little shit he can be sometimes.

sure enough, as soon as he sees your figure in the doorway, he turns to face the wall and leaves you with the very familiar, beloved view of his back.

but you miss him, and you'll be damned if you don't get any congratulatory cuddles from him tonight, even if you have to fight for them.

you grin a little and slide under the covers behind him, tracing a finger along his broad shoulders.

“baby,” you make sure to drag out the last syllable. you press a kiss to the nape of his neck and smile against his skin when he shudders. ���you’re really going to ignore me?”

he doesn’t answer just yet, but you can feel his resolve (which clearly isn't the strongest in this moment) breaking with every kiss you press down his spine, along his shoulder blades, the backs of his arms…

until he finally caves and turns to you with that lovesick grin you adore so much. he wraps his arms around your waist and you realize just how much you've been missing him.

"are ya finally done?" his eyes shine with hope and your heart squeezes in your chest.

you nod and he pulls you closer so that you're face-to-face, breaths mingling and lips barely touching. his skin, always so warm and soft, smells of fresh laundry and his breath has hints of the minty toothpaste your dentist recommended. you burrow against his neck and release the last of your worries with one big sigh.

and in typical atsumu fashion, as if he's just received an encoded message, he kisses your temple to let you know he's got you. "I'm proud of ya," he mumbles. "I know this was a tough semester for ya, baby, but you're gonna finish off strong."

you melt against him, let your shoulders relax and allow yourself the mental break that is letting him take care of you. "thank you," you whisper. "I'm just so glad I have a few days to rest now."

the energy of the room shifts with atsumu as he moves to hover your frame. the calluses on his hand from years of athletics are rough against the cheek he cups but comforting all the same. the look in his eyes is familiar and makes you a little dizzy with need.

"since you've got nothin' going on tomorrow..." your eyes stay trained on him as he turns his head to check the clock on your nightstand. "that means ya can afford to stay up a bit longer?"

you nod, not even bothering to check the time for yourself, welcoming him with a small smile when his eyes find their way back home to you. "that's right."

he grins and leans down to finally, finally, finally slot his lips against yours, right where they belong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[thestarsaboveme]

Song About Me

masterlist

sylus x reader | fluff/comfort

this was a request from a kind anon♡

tw/cw: mentions of excoriation disorder (skin picking), self-consciousness, scars, anxiety

note: sry, this isn't proof read. it's really late, and I wanted to post this before going to bed. so, if you read "stylus" instead of sylus anywhere. no you did not. (I hate my phone for auto correcting sylus to stylus every single time...)

You didn't want to leave your room.

The light through the window felt like it had too many eyes, like it touched every inch of your skin too closely. You had worn long sleeves all week, even when it was hot, even when it made Sylus frown with concern and offer you chilled water bottles or suggest taking a break under the shade.

But today...today it was too hot, too unbearable, and when you finally caved and changed into something short-sleeved, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and froze.

Red. Pink. Scabbed. Scarred. A trail of silent battles you never wanted the world to see. They stared back at you like flaws written in bold, like accusations you couldn't defend against.

You heard a soft knock at your door before you could retreat again.

"Y/N?" Sylus's voice was careful, warm. "We were gonna grab ice cream, remember?"

You hesitated, fingers curling around the edge of your sleeve.

"I'm not really feeling like going out anymore, " you called back, trying to sound casual.

There was a pause, then the door creaked open just slightly. Sylus peeked in, his white hair slightly tousled from the wind outside. The moment his gaze settled on you, his expression softened.

"Hey," he said gently, stepping inside. "Is something wrong?"

You opened your mouth, Closed it. Your throat felt too tight. You didn't want to explain. Didn't want to say, I feel uneasy in my own skin. I hate how I can't stop. I hate how I think people are looking at me at every opportunity.

But Sylus had always been good at reading silence.

His gaze flickered toward your arms, exposed now, and his brows drew together, not in judgment, but concern. He didn't stare. He looked. Just once. Then returned his gaze to your face.

"Bad day?" he asked, voice quiet.

You nodded.

I can't hide it today," you whispered. "And I know people are going to stare. They always do. I can feel it...I can't stand it."

Sylus stepped closer, but didn't touch you yet. He always waited.

"You know." he murmured. "when I first met you...I thought you were the strongest person I'd ever seen."

Your laugh came out bitter. "You must've been looking at someone else."

"I wasn't," he said simply. "You don't have to bleed in battle to be fighting. What you deal with, it's not small. It's not something you can just "willpower" away. But you wake up and keep going, even when your own skin feels like the enemy. That takes strength. And bravery."

You swallowed hard, heart squeezing.

"I just wish I could look normal," you said. "Even just once."

Sylus shook his head gently, and this time, he reached out, slowly, deliberately, fingertips brushing your hand.

"This is your normal," he said. "And there's nothing shameful about it. Not one scar, not one mark makes you any less beautiful to me."

Your breath caught.

His hand slid down, fingers lightly tracing one of the older scars on your forearm. His touch was featherlight. Not afraid. Not judging.

"You don't flinch when you touch me," you whispered.

"I never will," Sylus promised.

You blinked fast. Your eyes stung.

"Don't you think it's gross?" you asked, so quietly you hated yourself for even giving voice to it. "That I do this to myself? That I look like this?"

His answer was immediate.

"No."

One word, so firm it left no room for argument.

Then softer. "I think you're human. And I think you're in pain sometimes. And I'd rather be here, holding your hand through it, than let you carry it all alone."

You stared at him, lower lip trembling

He stepped even closer, until his forehead touched yours.

'"You don't have to hide from me. Not ever."

Something in your chest cracked open a little at his words.

And when you leaned into him, he wrapped you in his arms like you were something to protect, not something to fix. You pressed your face to his shoulder and let yourself breathe.

He didn't say anything more. Just held you, one hand rubbing slow circles over your back.

You weren't suddenly healed. The marks didn't vanish. The fear didn't evaporate.

But in Sylus's arms, under his quiet strength, the noise faded for a little while. And that was enough.

[zweetpea]

Mrs. "Wayne"

Part 2

Content warning: Swears, Arranged Marriage, murder (Not by Bruce because he doesn't kill), threats

This chapter is a bit shorter than the last but I think this is a sweet ended to this story. (For now... If I think of something to add to it I'll make a proper finale).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You awoke with a bag over your eyes, a rope around your wrists, and a killer headache.

Bruce ripped the bag off your head. “You’re lucky I have a no kill policy. But trust me when I say that if you’re going to wish I did.”

“Scary.” You mocked in a smooth and dull voice. “Does that work on all the drug addicted mental patients in spirit halloween costumes that you beat up?”

He grabbed your chin and pulled you forward a bit. “Don’t play with me, little girl.”

“Don’t call me little girl, old man. What do you want?” You asked boredly. 

He glared at you. “I should be the one asking that.” He spat.

You looked at him anammused and unenthusiastically said, “I’d like to be let out of the chair.” He tips the chair back slightly over the edge of this cliff in the cave. “Okay! Okay! I want the divorce to be quiet! I won’t take a small settlement! In fact I won’t ask for any money or assets! I-! Um… I want a pony? WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY!!” You started to panic. There were a lot of things you could do, but surviving a 10-20 foot drop into a moat, while being tied up was not one of them.

He tips the chair back onto solid ground and grabs both of her shoulders. “You want a pony in exchange for your silence about the bat cave and my family?”

“Oh that’s what this is about?” The fear on your face dissipated. “I don’t really care about this.”

Bruce took a step back in shock. “What?”

“Yeah. This place is honestly amazing and I’m actually very impressed at what you do.” Your voice was genuine as you looked up at him.

He seemed skeptical. “You are?”

You smiled slightly. “Well, yeah! You fight 2 meta-humans, a bunch of psycho clown gymnasts, two guys in super suits, and just a bunch of other freaks every other week! Are you some kind of immortal being or something?” You geeked out a bit.

He looked at you surprised. “You know a lot about me.”

“Well, in retrospect, no offense but it’s kind of sad… and pathetic.” She looked at him sympathetically

He scoffs. “How?”

“You spent 14 years training to avenge your parents murder and you didn’t think to see a therapist?” 

“Point taken.” He started to untie You. “So you promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Yeah. I’m not about to get dragged into this! Regardless of the truth behind our relationship, bad guys are going to come for me if I start blabbing about you guys. Not only that but the cops are going to hall me off to jail too if you get caught for vigilantism.”

“Oh… I didn’t think of that. I’m sorry…” He sits down on the cliffside with his head in his hands. “This whole thing has been a disaster.”

You sat down next to him. “Bruce?” You looked over curiously.

“Yeah?” He muttered.

You hesitated. “Why did you marry me?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Kid flash made a joke about my irresponsible love life and I guess I took it to heart.” He confessed somberly.

You patted his shoulder comfortingly. “All teenagers suck. It’s just growing pains.”

“I don’t like being bullied by an 8th grader.” He looked over in what you want to describe as a pout but that can’t be right. This is batman! Batman doesn’t pout! He broods!

“Imagine how Damian is going to be at that age.” You giggled. He growled and looked away. Oh my goodness. Batman was pouting. You burst out in laughter. “You are too special, Bruce.” You gave him a quick side hug and pulled yourself up. “Come on. Let’s go order take out and laugh at how stupid Villains are.”

He smiled at you slightly and pulled himself up as well. “Yeah… They are pretty stupid.”

“I mean it took me two months to find this place when they haven't come close in 2 decades!” She laughed and took his arm in hers. 

“Well Condiment king found this place a decade ago. But no one’s heard from him since so the villains stopped trying.” Bruce smirked.

You looked up at him worriedly. “I thought you didn’t kill.”

“I don’t, but my ex-special forces of a butler does.” He closes up the door to the batcave.

“...oh…”

He kissed your forehead and ushered you out of the library. “Nothing you need to worry about. Now let’s go order some takeout!”

You two ordered some Chinese food and lounged on the couch watching whatever was popular on Wayneflix. Bruce ordered shrimp fried rice and egg rolls while you just got a little of whatever caught your eye.

You pulled a throw blanket over you both and ate straight from the take out containers. It was weird being so close to him.

“I thought you didn’t like me touching you.” He reminded you of what you’d said less than a few hours ago. Seems like he noticed it too.

You shrugged. “I don’t like you feeling me up but I don’t mind cuddling. I suppose I should get used to it considering the fact that you’re probably going to keep me under lock and key for the rest of my life.” You shuffled closer to him.

He was silent for a moment before he spoke in a reassuring tone: “It’s not forever. Just a little while. I need to be sure you don’t plan on running off to the alps of Switzerland or something.”

You rolled your eyes. “No! Don’t be ridiculous! …Still can’t believe that the world hasn’t figured out you’re Batman yet. It’s so obvious in retrospect! Is that just my hindsight bias showing?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s the fact that a few tabloids are still floating around the idea that Batman is some kryptonian pet that Superman brought with him that gained a high level of intelligence.” Bruce practically shovelled his portion of food down his throat. 

“Pace yourself!” You scolded him. “And there’s no way anyone actually believes that.”

“Yeah well there’s also no concrete proof that links me to my alter ego.” Bruce pointed out in a playful tone.

“Yeah but… people don’t even float around the idea you're his sugar daddy-” You were interrupted by a certain tween.

“Father! Todd has informed me that he will be over shortly- Are you two cuddling?” Damian sounded repulsed by the idea.

You looked up at him. “Hey terror tot.” You greeted, flatly.

“Damian, I saved half my shrimp fried rice for you.” Bruce offered rather uncharacteristically warmly.

Damian turned away in a pout. “No thank you father. I hope you and your mistress have fun on your date.”

You interjected. “Firstly, super not the mistress. Secondly, it’s not like a date date so you can join us if you want. Thirdly, growing nestlings need to eat to build strength.”

Damian froze as Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. “What did you just call me?”  Damian's voice was mostly steady but there was undeniably a hint of fear.

“Damian, she knows about the bat cave.” Bruce calmed the boy.

“YOU SHOWED HER THE BAT CAVE!!” Damian screamed in shock and fury.

“Damian, compose yourself!” Bruce stood up. The two stared each other down from opposite sides of the couch.

“So are we abandoning movie night?” Your question went unanswered as Damian started ripping into Bruce about how irresponsible it was for him to show it off to “Impress her” (his words); and how hypocritical he was.

Bruce finally grabbed Damian’s shoulders and got him to quiet down. “She found the batcave.”

“A likely story.” Damian crossed his arms and grimaced at you.

“History of taxes, fifth shelf from the bottom, middle-right to the left of the big bay window in the library, dewey decimal number 336.20.”

“It took you two months to find the bat cave?” Damian raised an eyebrow at you.

You looked back at him. “In all honesty I just wanted to read something you guys hadn’t. Some books might be boring but it’s better to actually read the books to you rather than flaunt them, like some wannabe Jay Gatsby.”

Damian stood there in shock. “You’ve read The Great Gatsby?”

You scoffed. “Everyone had to read The Great Gatsby. I had a terrible teacher that basically told us Daisy was the victim throughout the Novel. Which I would understand if she was drawing that conclusion from synchronizing her with Fitzgerald’s actual wife Zelda but she wasn’t.” You paused the movie for a second. “The Great Gatsby is a weird novel when you actually understand the story of the people behind it. Fitzgerald is Gatsby and Zelda is Daisy. However the entire book portrays their relationship as a fantasy. Gatsby grows to regret it. He lusts for her beauty and wealth while Daisy almost comes off as superficial. The rich stay rich and the poor men who try to make a name for themselves are naive fools. It really paints a bad light on how he viewed his own wife.”

The two men looked at you in utter shock. “What’s hilariously sad is the fact that Fitzgerald based a lot of what he wrote around Zelda’s diary entries. Daisy is horribly depressed in her marriage, and she hates her husband. You’d think that Fitzgerald would realize how much his wife despised him and how unhappy he made her but he seemed oblivious to that fact.” You grabbed the container of shrimp fried rice and handed it to Damian. “So if you’ll excuse us, I'd like to get back to bonding with my husband so we don’t end up like Zelda and her vile husband.” You pulled Bruce back onto the couch and gave him what you had left of your take out.

“You don’t have to-” Bruce tried to protest and give you back your food.

“I assume you’ll be out late. You’ll need energy if you’re going to be staying out till dawn.”

“I just want to take a nap…” He mumbled and held you close like a child holding a plushie.”

You fixed the blanket over you both again and got comfy in his arms. “Get some rest Bruce. You need it.”

[lesbianbarbaragordon]

Still thinking about last night

”No, no, but seriously,” you start, adjusting on your seat, “it wasn’t that bad. At least not by the end. I felt like we had-“ a connection, that you managed to see him as he was for at least the brittlest of moments. But the sentence dies at the tip of your tongue. You prefer to keep that to yourself. pairing: tim drake x reader tags: stalking, average tim behavior, college student reader word count: 1.7k part 2 of Unraveling the World read part 1 here

“Do you look up all your girlfriends?”

Tim doesn’t like the insinuation, but he shoulders on because Barbara’s network is far more extensive than his, far more even than the Batcave’s, and this is a favour, after all.

Your face is on full display, a shot from your ID, taking up the main screen on Oracle’s setup. You don’t look very happy.

Your hair is longer than when he met you the other night, and he sees the fading of some sort of dye on the tips of your hair. 20 years old, born and raised in Gotham, there is nothing outstanding about you.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he replies as an afterthought, his eyes on the screens. You enrolled in GU last year, took up journalism as a major. Why would a college student live in a warehouse? 

Because it has to be a warehouse, why else would it have been called like that in the files?

The incident that led him to your apartment is still something that embarrasses him. A mistake on his part, something that shouldn’t have happened.

He keeps going over the details, trying to understand; it was just the criminal of the week, a robbery gone wrong at a jewelry shop, hostages that shouldn’t have been there. He had been sneaky, gotten inside before anyone noticed, and released the hostages in record time (which was good, because when they started shooting, Tim was the only one inside). But one of the rogues got on the defensive when they saw he was one of the bats, had gotten a hit on Tim’s ear, and broken his comms. Then a shot in the darkness and a sharp pain took over his senses.

Which one was the lesser evil, running away to seek shelter while he was still lucid? Or detaining the rogues but risking further injury?

The final matter came down to “what would Bruce do?”

So Tim had pushed through, managed to knock them out, cuffed them somewhere the police would find them, and left before anyone else could see him.

The sky was raging, as expected of Gotham, when he stepped foot on the rooftops outside. His breathing was ragged, the pain was excruciating and he had left the Red Bird at the cave.

It only crashed down on Tim as the thunder and lightning erupted around him, shivering and in pain. Once the adrenaline left, it hit all at once-

He was alone.

It only took a second for the gears to kick in. He couldn’t access the Batcomputer, or call anyone who could help. He could take care of it without them, but where would he go? Leslie’s clinic was on the other side of the city, and after retiring it had fallen under new management, would whoever was i charge still treat vigilantes? There were no warehouses around the area either, not ones he remembered anyway, and the longer he thought, the more he started to fear bleeding out in the streets.

What other things did he have access to offline? His suit had prior saves of data, backup files from years prior. Tim accessed them with shaky hands. 

As he thought, not many places to go to in the area, but there was somewhere marked as a safe place. Somewhere that wasn’t Bruce’s but that was listed as Bat equipped. He headed there with desperation clawing at his throat, pain drilling at the back of his eyelids.

But he didn’t find what he was expecting. Instead, there was you and a mundane house. Somewhere that looked lived in, rather than a closet stuffed with expensive tech and medical equipment.

He realized too late, that the information was outdated, that he was going to die from a mistake.

Except he didn’t. Except you were there.

And he wants to figure it out, what kind of sane person could possibly do what you had done? He wants to figure you out.

“She isn’t shady,” Barbara supplies unhelpfully. She starts looking over your school records, your extracurriculars, you studied at the same school he did, nothing out of the ordinary; A book club, perfectly good grades, no problems with teachers or classmates. There’s an internship registered under your name at one of Gotham’s local newspapers, and there, a few articles on topics like battok trends or the latest celebrity scandal. The few lines he skims read uninspired.

The only thing Tim finds unusual is paperwork from the year before, for a cat you had adopted.

“I didn’t see any pets.” At least not when he was there. His allergies would have started making him sneeze like a madman otherwise. But what could he possibly get from that?

You’re perfectly ordinary, so ordinary Tim can’t possibly figure out why you’d be living full-time in a Batman safehouse.

And it’s driving him crazy.

Barbara hums, saying your name, and then, she says your second surname, your mother’s maiden name, “Thompkins?”

“Thought it was common,” Tim shrugs because he hadn’t taken notice of the detail during his first research. Barbara sends him a pointed look.

“Who was the safehouse registered under?” It’s a simple question, Tim realizes his slip-up on the next beat.

“Is she related to Leslie Thompkins?” 

“Grandniece looks more like,” Barbara supplies, pulling up your mother’s birth certificate. She digs up an old picture, a younger Leslie posing next to a smiling blonde woman, who holding up a med school diploma. Seems like your mother followed in her footsteps.

“The warehouse is registered under her name,” Barbara supplies, pulling up a scan of the apartment’s deed. Leslie Thompkins is clearly written as the owner. It must have been a safehouse for her, and subsequently for Batman, a long time ago. All before you took over. “You satisfied now?”

Tim says nothing at that, gnawing at his lip.

From the screen, your picture stares back.

…

“It was freaking scary.” You complain over your instant noodles. But they’re too hot and they scald, making you hiss. Your friend stares at you from across the table.

”Right.”

None of your high school peers stuck with you after graduation, so your list of friends remains painfully empty. And it would be a name shorter, had Claudia not appeared into your life.

You met during your internship, where she was interning too, at the literature department of the magazine. You’re both close in age and enjoy reading classics, so you spend lunch breaks together and bond over trash-talking your coworkers. She’s one of the few people you talk to in an otherwise silent existence. And she’s quite funny, too.

”It feels like one of those trashy romance novels, right?” She gestures openly, a sandwich in her hand. You’ve been telling her about your encounter with Red Robin for a lack of anything else. It’s the only interesting thing that’s happened to you in a while. “‘The superhero crashed at my place! And oh no, he’s naked!’.”

You snort, slapping her arm, “he was not naked! And it wasn’t romantic at all! I was so scared I’d throw up all over him from the stress!”

She chokes on a piece of ham, then starts to laugh. You start laughing too. 

It’s a relief having Claudia to make it all sound less scary.

Her laughing stops when her phone beeps and she pulls it out. Meanwhile, you choose to entertain yourself with your food.

”Is it that twitter account?” You ask half curiously. She hums in response, not looking up from the screen.

”Seems like bird boy hasn’t been seen in a while,” Claudia scrolls down her feed as she talks, quickly liking posts or replying to comments. She runs a popular fan account in her spare time that revolves around Gotham vigilantes, which is not a niche topic.  Most of the accounts themed around the bats, much like Claudia herself, are not native to Gotham. Rather, they’re from Metropolis or San Francisco, where the public regularly sees Superman or the Titans. Gothamites don’t have that kind of relationship with their heroes. “Red Robin’s been out of the streets since last Friday.”

”I guess that means you’re not lying,” she says teasing, which makes you blow a raspberry, “how did you do it, though? I would have messed up so bad.”

”Eh,” you start halfheartedly, “I took pre-med classes all through high school. I’ve forgotten most of it, though, but what little I knew came in handy,” you shrug, leaning back against your chair, “he had some pretty useful stuff, too. Super fancy equipment. That definitely helped.”

“Anyone else would have tried seeing under his mask, and you’re telling me what stuck out to you was his equipment?” Claudia laughs. “Maybe your next article will be about the bats’ tools. Does Batman carry around bat-bandaids? What about bat-snacks?”

You choke on your food, pushing down a laugh. It would be better than the stuff you’ve been writing about for these past few months, anyway. There are only so many influencers you can interview without going crazy.

”No, no, but seriously,” you start,  adjusting on your seat, “it wasn’t that bad. At least not by the end. I felt like we had-“ a connection, that you managed to see him as he was for at least the brittlest of moments. But the sentence dies at the tip of your tongue. You prefer to keep that to yourself.

“He was your favorite, you said, no?” Claudia catches on and continues, “I’d be just like you if Nightwing crashed into my apartment too.”

You’re about to retaliate, because-

Because what happened was not without meaning. You had realized he was more than an ephemeral figure or a distant idol, something as tangible as you, and that had made you stop fearing, for better or for worse.

But your boss peeks his head around the corner and takes sight of you both. “Your break is over,” he says and stands in the doorway as he watches you tidy up and throw empty containers and coffee cups into the bin.

Just as you’re leaving you catch something by the corner of your eye. On the TV is a fuzzy image of something humanoid, vaguely red and black. 

Wherever you go, the shadow of Red Robin follows.

[7ndipity]

False Pretenses

fwb!Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Just how fair does the ‘benefits’ aspect between Friends with Benefits actually extend? Based on this meme.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: crack to fluff, suggestive moments and ending, swearing, Jk has side by side washer/dryer units cause it’s funnier, reader’s referred to as ‘Ma’am’, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I hope you’ll still like it tho! (I’ll also be posting a couple more pieces with this pairing in the next couple weeks, so keep your eyes peeled if you liked this)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was the type of text you had gotten more than used to receiving from him over the past few months, smirking down at your phone as you waited for the elevator in his building.

“Need you so bad rn. Come over?❤��

The heart was a new addition, he must be feeling particularly needy today, you thought to yourself as the elevator doors finally opened.

Since the two of you had established this new part of your friendship, it was rare for you to go more than four or five days without receiving some variation of the same short message from him.

You were still slightly surprised by his text, seeing as you had only been over the night before, but you weren’t complaining by any means. Though you may have enjoyed pretending that Jungkook was the needier one in your arrangement, if you were completely honest, you were just as affected by him, finding yourself missing him on the nights you didn’t spend together.

When he opened the door, you noticed he looked a little more disheveled than usual, his hair sticking up all over the place, as if he’d been running his hands through it, a habit you knew he did when he was stressed.

“You got here fast.” He noted, letting you into the apartment.

“Well, your text made it sound kinda urgent, didn’t want to leave you waiting too long.” You said, wandering through into the living room, slowing to a stop as you caught sight of the chaotic state of the space, cleaning supplies and laundry scattered around, furniture moved all out of place.

“What happened in here?” You asked, turning back to Jungkook, who was now avoiding your eyes. “Koo?”

“I lied, I didn’t want sex.” He said guiltily, looking up at you. “I need you to help me clean.”

“I-, what?” You blinked at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He slumped back against the counter, looking stressed as he ran his hand through his hair again. ”My parents decided to surprise me by announcing they’re coming to visit tomorrow, but I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got home from tour last week, so the house is a fucking mess and everything’s a disaster and I need help, please.” He pleaded, staring at you.

You immediately began pulling your coat back on, turning back towards the door. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Y/n, please!” He quickly followed after you, catching your sleeve. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll buy you dinner, I’ll rub your back, I’ll even let you pick what we watch for a month!”

You paused, turning to look back at him with a raised brow. “Even if I want to re-watch ‘Our Beloved Summer’ for a third time?”

He bit lip, trying to fight back a pained grimace before nodding slowly. “Whatever you want.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

“Fine.” You said reluctantly, caving as you saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Thank you!” He sang, catching you in a tight hug and spinning you around in a circle. “I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Yeah, whatever,” You grumbled as he set you back on your feet. “Where do we start?”

“Laundry room?” He offered. “It’s mostly done, I just need to vacuum behind the machines.”

Do you really think your mom’s gonna look back there?” You raised a brow, following him down the hall.

“She’s very thorough.” He said seriously.

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “I don’t quite see why I’m necessary for this part though?”

“I was afraid if I tried to clean back there by myself, I’d slip and get stuck or die.”

“So you want me to slip and die behind your washer instead?” You shot him an accusatory look.

“No! I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe,” He smiled reassuringly. “You know, like the buddy system.”

“I thought the buddy system was for camping so you didn’t get lost or eaten by bears?”

“It’s a multi-purpose system!” He said, his earlier agitation starting to flare up again at your teasing. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it, pass me the vacuum.” You relented, boosting yourself up on top of the dryer.

He held onto your hips to keep you balanced as you cleaned, his mind beginning to wander as he stared at your ass, his fingers starting to slowly knead your flesh absent-mindedly.

“Koo.” You warned, shooting him a quick look.

“Right, sorry.” He snapped back to attention, ceasing his movements and focusing back on the task at hand.

You finished up quickly, passing the vacuum attachment back to him and letting him help you down.

“Thank you.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, looking around expectantly. “What’s next?”

The apartment wasn’t nearly as bad of a mess as he claimed it to be, but it still took both of you several hours of work to get everything back in order, finishing off with laundry and changing all the bedding.

“Why are these sticky?!” You asked, mildly horrified as you helped him strip the sheets off his bed.

“Relax, it’s just caramel sauce.” He said.

You looked up at him confused. “We didn’t use-?”

“No no, that was just me,” He explained quickly. “I had ice cream last night.”

“Without me?!” You said, clutching your chest in feign hurt, making him roll his eyes as he let out a huff of laughter.

“I’ll add that to the list of things I need to make up for, okay?” He said.

“Eh, it’s better than where my mind went.” You said, only half joking as you grabbed the fresh sheets from him and turned back to the bed. “Almost thought you were fucking around behind my back for a second there.”

Facing away from him, you missed the way his expression suddenly turned serious as he looked at you. “I would never.”

It was strange, despite the supposedly ‘casual’ nature of your arrangement, you both found yourselves making little comments like that, words and exchanges that sounded a lot more like things said between a committed couple, rather than just two friends helping each other out till you found something more serious.

“Alright, I think that’s everything.” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts. You had finished making up the bed, even turning down the covers for him.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably called Hobi.” You smirked, making him snort.

“Now, you promised me food, and if you lie to me twice in the same day, I’m dumping your ass.” You said, earning another laugh from him.

“Alright, whatever you want, just like I said.” He said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“Although, if you wanted, I could make up for my false pretenses from earlier in a different way?” He offered, eyes darkening slightly as his hands drifted over your hips

You lightly shoved his hands away. “Not a chance, Loverboy, I’m way too tired now. You’ll have to try and ‘make it up to me’ some other time.”

“How about tomorrow?” He said, eyes twinkling mischievously, looping his arms around your waist instead to keep you close.

“I thought your parents were coming over tomorrow?” You reminded, raising a brow at him.

“You could come over after.” He suggested. “Hell, you could even come to dinner with us, my parents like getting to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” You looked up at him skeptically.

“Yeah, what?” He laughed, squeezing you lightly.

“Do you let your other friends suck your di-?”

“They don’t need to know the details of our relationship!” He said quickly, his face flushing slightly, making you snicker. “You’re still my friend, one of my best friends actually.” He added, in a soft tone.

The way he said it made your heart twist in a weird way, though you didn’t quite understand why.

“So?” He asked, staring down at you hopefully. “Will you come?”

You chewed your lip, considering. It felt like a really big commitment to meet his family, regardless of what your relationship was, but you tell it would mean a lot to him if you said yes.

“I’ll think about it.” You said finally.

He beamed.

“Thank you!” He said, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering longer this time, tracing over yours lightly, making you shiver.

You pressed closer to him, hooking your arms around his neck as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue delve into his mouth as his hands grip on your waist tightened.

When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, eyes almost black as he stared down at you, breathing heavily.

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, your breaths equally unsteady.

“But I thought you said-?”

“I changed my mind.” You cut him off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. “Shirt off, now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Short Frank Drabble

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank is a sweetheart when you aren’t feeling well.

warnings: swearing (I guess?), Frank being sweet, chronic pain mentions

a/n: my chronic pain has been so bothersome this week so I wrote this as catharsis. I hope you all like it!

w/c: 1.2k

Standing barefoot in the sun-streaked kitchen, you let the soft breeze waft over you as it drifted through the open window. The sounds of the city were carried to you atop the wisp of air–the beeps of early morning traffic, the distant sounds of machinery from the nearest construction site. Louder than the Manhattan ambiance, the pair of songbirds nesting on your balcony chirped and twittered. It was beautiful, serene.

Yet, from your place in front of the sink, your teeth ground together as you sluggishly scrubbed at the pan in your loose grip. Every joint in your body was pulsing with agony–a consequence of an injury you never incurred. This wasn’t a new experience. In fact, it was quite common, which was why you were frustratedly washing dishes until your painkillers kicked in.

You had tried to hold out, but after three irritating days and two sleepless nights courtesy of this renewed pain, you’d caved and thrown back a pair of ibuprofen on top of your prescription. There were a handful of reasons that could have contributed to a flare-up, but that didn’t bring you any consolation. Your flare-ups were usually short, and you tended to have a better handle on them than the ineptitude you’d displayed this week.

Sighing heavily, you narrowed your eyes at the charred mark on the frying pan you were holding, setting it atop the sink’s lip to apply more pressure. Vigorously scouring dishes was probably only going to make your existence less bearable, but sitting down and wallowing as your body ached ferociously wasn’t an activity you wanted to partake in. Well, not for the third time in 24 hours.

Finally making some headway on the patch of burnt material on the pan, your face was firmly twisted with a scowl when you heard the deadbolt unlatch. As the door creaked open, you listened to your partner’s heavy footfalls down the hallway towards you.

“You’re home early.” You forced out a huff of a laugh, strained smile across your lips.

Striding over to you, Frank’s broad shadow landed on the sink as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Squeezing you close, your back pressed flush against his chest, his chin tucking over your shoulder as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“So? Last I checked, it ain’t a crime to run home to my girl.” He rasped deeply, tilting his forehead so it rested against your temple.

Shaking your head fondly, you leaned into Frank’s solid weight, allowing him to hold you upright. “You didn’t need to do that, Frank.”

“Who said I needed to? I wanted to, doll. Missed ya.” His voice quieted with the confession, your heart clenching with affection over his earnest tone.

“I missed you too. Always do.” You murmured, turning your face to kiss the bridge of his nose before turning back to the dishes.

“How long ya been outta bed, sweetheart?” Despite his best efforts, you spotted the concern bleeding into his words immediately.

Smile faltering, you gave a tiny shrug. “A bit. Wanted to get these done so I could cook something.”

“Shoulda told me you were hungry,” Frank frowned, stroking a thumb over your hip. “Woulda picked somethin’ up on my way back.”

“If I don’t cook the bacon in the fridge, I’ll forget about it again and it’ll go bad, so…” You trailed off, stifling a grimace at how weak the argument sounded.

Frank hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, thumb still tracing patterns into your soft skin. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and let me finish these, yah?”

Blowing air through your nose, you felt a small burst of annoyance in your chest. “I’m almost finished. It won’t take much longer.” Your voice was tight as you tried to keep your aggravation from coloring your words. It wasn’t Frank’s fault you were in a shitty mood. He was being sweet. But the suggestion still rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hey, look at me, dollface.” Using a strong finger to draw your chin upwards, he moved his hand to cradle your jaw when your eyes met his. “I’m not askin’ to take over because you’re takin’ too long. You shouldn’t be dealin’ with this crap if it ain’t gonna help ya feel better.”

Chewing at your bottom lip, you felt the telltale prickle in your throat and tear ducts. Shying away from Frank’s intense gaze, you buried your face in his firm chest. “I can do it.”

“I know ya can, darlin’. You’re the strongest girl I know. I just don’t want ya to hurt yourself over some stupid shit like the dishes.” Cupping the back of your head, Frank held you close, shielding you from the world.

Clamping your teeth onto your lip to keep the tears welling in your eyes from falling, you didn’t respond. Frank’s jaw rubbed over your crown as he spoke again.

“Can’t feel good to be standin’ here, usin’ your hands, can it?” Lashes fluttering, you felt your cheeks grow damp as your emotions overwhelmed you.

“No.” You muttered, flexing your hands to lessen the throbbing of every joint within them.

“I ain’t gonna force ya to do anythin’, sweetheart. But these can wait until you’re feelin’ better.” Rocking you ever so slightly, Frank’s hands splayed over your back, rubbing gentle circles as he patiently waited for your decision.

“What about breakfast?” You pulled out of his embrace slightly to scrub at your face.

“I know I ain’t a genius, but I can cook a pan of bacon.” Frank chuckled, swiping a lingering tear from your chin.

“But you just got home,” You pouted, wrapping your arms around him again, nuzzling into his soft t-shirt.

“Exactly. I’m starvin’. Go sit down and I’ll make us some food.” With one final kiss to your forehead, Frank jerked a nod toward the living room. You didn’t protest when he withdrew his arms, stepping out of your embrace and towards the fridge, but you didn’t move either.

Raising an eyebrow at you, Frank cocked his head. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”

Shaking your head fiercely, you dropped your gaze to your feet, bashfully shuffling in place. “No, just…”

“Just what, doll?”

You shrugged, insecurity churning within you. “You’re still in here.”

Smiling knowingly, Frank pulled the package of bacon and a carton of eggs from the ancient fridge, setting them next to the stove before holding up a finger. “Good point. Wait right there, sweetheart.”

Your eyes trailed after Frank as he paced towards your small dining room table. Lifting a single chair with ease, Frank carried it into the kitchen as if it was made of cardboard—setting it down to the right of the stove. “Better?”

Nodding sheepishly, you sank into the chair. “Thank you.”

Bending at the waist, Frank drew you into a kiss. “Always, sweet girl.”

Pulling your knees up onto the chair, you lay your chin atop them to watch Frank putter around the kitchen as he made breakfast. Though, this time, the smile on your face was genuine.

[natnatscorner]

Mattheo begging for you back after cheating on you

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Summary: After 2 years of dating, the boy who you thought loved you cheats on you with your best friend. Now he's trying to get you back.

word count: 581

cw: none.

masterlist - harry potter fancast masterlist

"Mattheo go away for the millionth time."

You could not believe that he was back again. It's been a week since he cheated on you, with none other than Melanie, your best friend since 3rd year. You were stumped to find out because Melanie always told you to stay away from him because he's bad news. But maybe that was all a lie, and she wanted him for herself. Doesn't matter because she's dead to you, I think she got the memo when you threw all her stuff out of the dorm. You hated both of them at the moment.

"Y/N, please we need to talk." You hear his muffled voice behind the door. You roll your eyes and are about to walk back to your bed but stop as he starts to speak again. "Please baby, it was a mistake. She was the one who came onto me." he pleaded. You scoff as you turn around and open the door to see a teary-eyed Mattheo who looks relieved that you finally opened the door. You give him a dirty look and step back after he tries to grab your hands. "Whatever you want make it quick, I don't want to see your face right now." He took a deep breath in.

"Look I know I fucked up really badly, b-but she was a mistake. I love you so much more than anyone in this world. Please don't let my actions ruin us." He urged in a desperate tone. He looks as if he's about to start crying, but you don't feel bad. Why is he the one that's acting a mess, that should be you. I mean you ARE the one that got cheated on. "I'm not sure what you expected, but we are not getting back together. You would have kept it in your pants if you loved me that much. Now please go away." You state just about to shut the door. "W-wait!" Mattheo stops the door with his hand, opening it back up, and pushing you back.

"What the hell, Mattheo?!" You groan in annoyance. "Y/N, please don't leave me like this. You just can't. You have to forgive me! I can't live without you." He says, sniffling and wiping the tears from his face.

You feel yourself wanting to cave, maybe you should just forget this all happened and go back to him. Because, deep down you knew, you still love Mattheo Riddle. However, this cut is too deep to just forgive and forget.

"Look Mattheo," You take a deep breath as you prepare to shatter his heart.

"You and I, we're over. you broke my heart Mattheo, 2 years of dating and you cheated on me. Not to mention it was with my best friend. You must have real guts to come back begging for me, how pathetic. You seriously need to move on with your life because like I said, we are done. There is no more us. So just go." Looking at him coldly.

"Y/N y-you can't be serious, please. I-" He stops. It hits him, now realizing that he would never get you back. “I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I hope you can forgive me” He looks at you one last time before muttering the words ‘I love you’. He walks down the stairs into the common room.

Oh god, what have I done? You thought to yourself. Instantly regretting what you said.

I'm not sure I'll continue, but if I should tell me!

﹒⪩⪨﹒﹒⪩⪨﹒﹒⪩⪨﹒﹒⪩⪨﹒

© natnatscorner - please do not copy, repost or translate my works on here or any other platform!

[luimagines]

You Give Him a Massage Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Hyrule, Legend and Sky

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

It was a long day. One that everyone nearly collapsing over themselves at the end of it. You were thankful that there wasn’t a lot battle that you had to do but that didn’t make it any harder to keep awake at the end of the day.

The group finally settled down to break camp but you couldn’t muster up the energy to help them sat anything up.

Looking around, it looked to be the general consensus of the rest of the group. No was willing to do anything. Wild takes out a flaming sword and makes the camp fire by striking a bunch of wood and calls it good.

He makes kabobs and that your meal for the night. 

You’re tired enough to find that you don’t really care for the lack of everything.

You sit by a tree, watching everyone half hazzardly throw round their bed rolls and flop into them for the night. You plan on staying up a little bit longer. At least until it finally becomes the hour your normally sleep at. You don’t plan on tossing away your sleep schedule that way. It would take weeks to get it back on track if you did. 

Wild goes to bed. Wind was the first to fall asleep. Sky follows his example within minutes. Warrior and Time struggle to decide which one of them goes to bed first since someone still has to take the first watch. Legend offers to do it just so they both shut up but he’s ignored.

Hyrule throws his bed roll close to you and flops down just like the others. It’s a little funny how similar they all are even if they don’t to do it. It makes you giggle

Hyrule looks up at the sound with a cross face. “What?”

“Nothing. Good night, Link.”

His face softens and he scoots closer to you. He places his head on your lap, making himself comfortable. You snort. “Better?”

“Yes.” He grins.

With an affectionate roll of your eyes, you put your hand sin his hair, carding through his locks gently before you start massing his scalp. You can see the way the stress of the day melts off of his with every pass of your hand. “...That’s nice...”

“Good night, Link.” You repeat yourself. Distantly, you think that you’re also going to have to sleep soon and you’re going to have to figure out how to get the boy off of you without waking him up- but that’s a problem for future you.

You keep massaging his scalp, taking quiet wonder at how soft his hair is despite the lack of up keep.

Your subtle, minute motions lulls you into a deep calm as well. You think you see Four awake still, even though he’s lying down. Twilight is also up against a tree on the other side of the camp but he’s huddled into himself. That’s going to be a horrible position to wake up if he stays asleep like that. You don’t want the same thing to happen to you.

You can feel yourself nodding off despite yourself.

You have to move Hyrule. You have to lay down before you also fall asleep against the tree. How do you move Hyrule without waking him up in the process?

You fall asleep with Hyrule still in your lap.

Legend

Legend growls somewhere off to your right.

You look over to him curiously.

Legend’s been rubbing the side of his head for a while now. His face is twisted in pain and his hair has been mused up in the process. His cheeks are pink and his hat is about to half off of his head from everything he’s doing.

You frown. “Legend, are you ok?”

He hisses but looks to you. In an instant his gaze softens when his eyes land on you. He had looked borderline angry before, but you’re thankful to know that it has nothing to do with you. “...I have a headache... hurts...”

You’re heart hurts for him. “How bad it is?”

“Bad.” He says. “I feel like someone is trying to cave in my skull with a hammer.”

You open your mouth.

“Not that anyone’s tried to do that before.” Legend eyes you tiredly before you can speak.

You press your lips into a thin line. Now’s not the time for poorly judged jokes. “I can help.”

Legend gets almost a pleading look on his face. “Really?”

“I can try.” You amend. Walking towards him, you take off his hat and urge him to sit down nearby. “Just let me know if you want me to stop, ok?”

“...ok..” He says, clearly willing to do anything if it means relief from his headache.

You start by gently running your hands through his hair. It takes a minute or two but Legend’s shoulder eventually fall from their hunched position. From there you start to rub small circles into his scalp, now that you’ve cleared away more of the tangles from his hair.

You start small, a little worried about the pressure you’d put on his already sore head but with time you gradually get firmer. You try to keep the pressure slow and steady, going in circles around his head.

It doesn’t take too long before you seem to find the area that’s been bugging him the most and focus in on it.

A small sound leaves Legend and you pause. “All good?”

“Mm-hm.” He hums and slowly moves his head this way and that. A beat passes and you see his face contort again.

You take that as your queue to start up again since the pain had returned. “Have you had any water today, Vet?”

You didn’t think he heard you until he finally makes a noise of acknowledgment. “...I think...”

“Hm.” You’re not impressed. “I’m going to go get you something to drink and if this happened because you were dehydrated then I’m going to yell at you.”

“Please don’t.”

“I make no promises.”

Sky

“Ow.”

You ignored it the first time.

“Ow.”

You ignored it the second time.

“Ow.” He hissed for the third time.

You sighed and looked over. “Sky? What on earth are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He bit his lip, trying to whittle a piece a wood into submission. You’re not entirely sure what it is he’s trying to make but he looks like he’s struggling with it. His hand makes a move and he hisses again. “Ow- by the three-!”

He drops the knife to his lap and cradles his hand. He seems to be pressing his thumb into the palm of his hand.

You move over to his side and take his hand. “You’re learning their figures of speech.”

“Completely on accident on assure you.” He growls, pouting as he watches your movements.

You bring his hand closer to you, tucking it close and slowly kneading into the palm of his hand. You can already see the problem. There’s a muscle out of place. Whether it’s twisted or stretched, you’re not sure. But it looks painful.

“How did you manage to do this?” You whisper to yourself, bordering on horrified.

Sky hears you anyway. “I’m not entirely sure. I just woke up this morning and it was like that. It doesn’t bother me too much, only when I move it a certain way.”

You grunt and keep up with kneading into his hand. Sky bites on his lip when you go particularly deep and squirms in his seat. You look up and tilt you head. “Hurt?”

“That time. Yes.” He keeps his hand limp in your hand at least, trying to not make it harder for you. “You don’t have to do this.”

“If someone doesn’t help you fix it, you’re going to make it worse.” You don’t leave room for argument. “What on earth are you thinking? Why would you be whittling? Clearly your hand needs to rest instead so that it can get better from whatever the hack happened to it.”

Sky at least has the decency to appear a little sheepish. “...I’m bored.”

“And dumb.” You flick his forehead.

“Hey now...”

“Hush.” You grin, not letting him defend himself. “It’s out of love and you know it.”

“Yes, I feel very loved right now.” Sky rolls his eyes, relaxing a little more as time goes by. Little by little, you’re moving the muscle in his hand back into place and it’s hurting him less and less. “...Thank you...”

You snort. “You’re very welcome.”

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

WIP Wednesday ~ WIP File Game

Um hi there. *waves nervously* Soooo over the past two months, I've been tagged multiple times by different people to partake in various WIP Wednesday posts and WIP file games. Sadly, I haven't had as much time for fandom as I would have liked recently, and I've just let those tags sit there unanswered. Thank you for thinking of me @mega-aulover, @unnamednarrator, and @thesweetnessofspring.

I'm going to use this post to answer both types of tags, and the people I tag in turn, please choose which version you'd rather play, play both!, or play neither.

First... a snippet from chapter 40 of Spellbound:

“Peeta! Let me go!” There’s the metallic thunk of a heavy round. Hands yanking on my wrists. I stare at the body. His jaw blown off, silencing him forever. Eyes empty. Hollow. Gone. “Peeta?” That’s when the trembling starts. I blink and the shadows recede. His face gone, replaced with Haymitch’s skull gleaming oddly in the flashlight on the cave floor. The jawbone fallen at an odd angle.  Fingers dig into my wrists. Deep enough that it hurts. The pain in my wrists and my knee somehow grounds me. Pulls me away from that day in the sun baked streets and back into this one. “Peeta?” Katniss asks. I can barely make out her shape in the gloom, and I shake my head. Who dropped the flashlight? When did we wind up on our knees?  “I’m fine.”

And now for the more difficult part. Here's a list of my current WIP files. If it's listed as a story on AO3, I hope to finish it this year. If it's listed as not yet posted to AO3, then I'm hoping to start posting it/finish it this year. The third list is a bunch of random ideas that may never see the light of day, but I've included them for funsies.

Feel free to send an ask to receive a snippet if I have one, a summary, a long winded excuse for why it's still not done yet... I'm working tonight but I have tomorrow off and will answer asks then!

Stories on AO3:

Outside Chance

Outside Expectations

Outside the Lines

Spellbound

Where the Stars Crumble to Life

One Last Hope

Everything You Are

Ampersand (Series)

Fickle Games

No Reason

Holiday Havoc Ensues

Smutercising

Stories Not on AO3:

Bound to Get Burned

Caught in the Net of the World

The Courtship of Lambs

Crush My Bones with Bittersweet

Grief Catches Us All

Hand porn

In the Waiting Dark (the Red Moon Rises)

Kiss Me In the Dark

Making Dents in the Wall

Septimus

Sin Bin

Small Turn Ons

Spiral & Collission / Ellipses & Ignition

Tangled AU

Through the Eyes of My Love

To Know, Not to Be Known

Turning of the Seasons

You + Me

Random Files:

Anyways

Arrive Broken

The Art of Peeling Pearls

Autumn Delight

Awkward

Bed Head

Bend Me, Shake Me Any Way You Want Me

The Cold Side of the Bed

Dear Diary

Everlark on the Prairie

Fluffy Menace

Full Zeroes

Holiday Pet Sitters

Hypocrites

Kiss Me in the Dark

Kissing Clause

Last Dance

Long Have I Waited, My Darling

Love in the Library

Nude Dude Foods

On Lockdown

Peeta POV

Scrawled Upon My Skin

Shattered Into Ash

Seven Feathers

The Strong Arm of Justice

The Touch of Time

Under the Pink Sky

Yes, Chef

And Finally, for the Truly Brave (I mean it, don't do this if you have very clear lines of what you find acceptable in fanfiction), I will answer questions about my folder titled "What Is This Shit?!?!", where I put all of the weird, dark, morally questionable fic ideas that I'm certain about 95% of you all would absolutely hate. Actually some of them are not that bad, but others really are a dumpster fire. Send a number between 1 and 66 for a potentially unpleasant surprise, if you dare.

Now for the tags! I tag @mega-aulover @unnamednarrator, and @thesweetnessofspring because it's been over a week since each of you tagged me mwahahaha. Also tagging @shesasurvivor @louezem and @burkygirl (I've seen you lurking in my notes, don't think I didn't. Hope you've had a restful break from fandom and glad to see you around here again.)

[anarchiii]

Worlds apart-13 —ACOTAR x TOG AU

Part Thirteen | warnings: angst, blood, violence, | Azriel x Celaena Sardothien

Summary; pain and sorrow one after the other, Azriel decides that maybe he isn’t meant for this world, but maybe for another…

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Azriel’s POV

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Amren snapped, clearly having enough of his tensed body and impatience, everything, he almost wanted to say, everything was wrong, it had started an hour ago when he woke up to a nightmare where he watched as Celaena choked to death on her own blood right infront of a door, a human man simply watching her die, he stood there and could no nothing. It had felt so real. So real in fact that his love seemed to watch him as she lay there, tears falling from her beautiful eyes.

“She’s in danger,” he finally said, whispering more like it, what if she was dying right now, dead even? “Who?” He could barely think straight, she could be suffering right now and he wasn’t doing anything, “Celaena, I can feel it, I need to help her.” She looked up at him. Her eyes a blazing silver, she nodded once, eyes landing back on the book she was reading, after a few more minutes she said, startling him, “I’ve got it,” he immediately got up. A small spark of hope filling his chest but he ignored it.

“Let’s do it,” he said, before she could say anything, “right now, this very moment,” this was the first time he had seen the Firedrake look concerned but she didn’t disagree, besides, if it didn’t work, Rhysand and the inner circle would never know, they didn’t have much time if what he suspected was true, his family would understand, they had to.

She nodded again, running out of the Day Court library and down a long winding staircase, he didn’t ask where she was going, just followed, by the time they were reaching the bottom, he was out of breath, the exhaustion of running and barely sleeping for weeks could come later, love first.

“Grab Truth-teller and make a semi-deep cut along your forearm, don’t ask questions just do,” Amren snapped, dropping to the cold stone floor and flipping through the book violently, he indeed didn’t ask questions, just did, he made the cut, his blood flowing quickly. The ruby liquid like a river. Amren grabbed his harm harshly before dipping her child-sized fingers into the liquid and drawing marks on the ground, the same marks Celaena had drawn, though there was a difference between then and now, he was not afraid, he would not be afraid.

-

He forgot how terrifying it was, standing infront of the sickly green portal that would lead him—hopefully—to his darling, if he could even call her that, perhaps he would come all this way and show himself fully to her just for her to send him back home, when she didn’t realise that she was his love, was this all for nothing? Was he so pathetic that the first person that had shown him a love that wasn’t platonic made him think and act like this? No, this couldn’t all be for nothing.

He shook his head, trying to disperse those thoughts, Amren was eyeing him but said nothing, she had been incredibly patient, it was almost like she knew something he didn’t, there was no other reason for her to act in such a manner, she started tapping her foot on the floor impatiently, but still stayed silent, everything was so odd— right. He had to go now. If it was anything like last time then the portal would not be here much longer.

Breathing in deeply and exhaling, he went through it, picturing nothing but her lovely face, that pure smile that made her look goddess-like, the strawberry blush that covered her cheeks when he said something about her, the way she put her hands on her hips to prove a point not realising that she was like a beautiful siren to his sailor, the beautiful maiden seducing the unprepared guard, she was his temptress without even trying. Lovely.

-

He landed face-first on a marble checkered floor, the first thing he noticed was the haughty laughter and clinking of glasses all around him, he got up, groaning as the pain retested in his nose, he ignored it, everyone around him was in dresses and suits, except him. People around him were eyeing him and some blushing as they took in his body but relatively ignored him, Azriel bestowed the same upon them.

He also noticed a mousy-brown haired man watching him from a wall, in the same moment, another plain looking man appeared and instead walked up to him and offered a glass of champagne, he refused a couple of times but the man didn’t stop insisting so he grabbed the glass but didn’t drink it, he keep surveying his surroundings but there was no sign of Celaena anywhere, but if his dream was right, then she was near a wooden door. And she looked like she was in a hallway. The servants quarters, kitchens, or even power-rooms were his guesses.

He didn’t think to hard on it as he started running down halls and rooms, his surroundings seemed to become more familiar from the dream so he kept going, he was nearly there to where I knew Celaena was when something hard hit his head, he slammed into a wall but got up instantly and drew Truth-teller—the blade mercifully staying with him this time—he turned and faced the wait from before. He drew a simple long dagger and threw it—aiming for his head. Thankfully, he missed, moving to the side before welding his blade and slicing along his neck, the man bled out instantly and fell to the floor, not even a worthy opponent.

He didn’t linger long, wiping the blood off of his blade quickly and breaking out into a run as he raced to find his love, small puddles of blood lay on the floor, the further he went the larger they became, what the Hell? Bodies started appearing, the inflicted wounds janky and uneven, their eyes still open. Gazing to the covered sky. No matter what they had done—he still sent a silent prayer for them to whatever Gods inhabited this world, the Mother was not here to save him, she never had. Anyway.

He slowed down as to not slip and stopped, listening for anything, anything that could help, he heard gurgling, choking even, he turned another corner and beheld the sight in front of him, there she was, her sweat-covered forehead leaning against the doorframe of that oak door. Blood spilling out from her wicked mouth. Her lovely skin covered in old—and new—blood, blood, there was so much of it.

He slammed to his knees and came before his lovely Fire, her eyes flicked to his but held no emotion, the golden ring in them gone dull, she was dying, the woman he had dreamed about every second he had been away from, dying—suffering, he didn’t know what to do. Azriel had planned everything he was going to do and say to her when he was here but now. . . Now he was here. He was completely lost.

Her expression grew pained as time went on and he got enough sense to act, he took off his shirt and ripped it up into strips, wiping away all the blood to see what he was working with, she bore many wounds but he knew those were not the main cause, it was invisible, poison. He looked to the oak door and, before he could think straight, put his whole body weight into it and started shoving into it, it didn’t take long for the door to snap off its hinges and bang open, he rushed to the sink and started collecting water. Washing Celaena’s wounds and making her drink the liquid. He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t very familiar with poison, only using it a handful of times, and the Cauldron knew what poisons people used in this world, Azriel had no antidote. He was useless.

He started crying then, utterly useless, perhaps this was his punishment for all the horrible things he’d done in his lifetime, forced to watch his heart stop in front of him, he didn’t stop the tears, didn’t stop them as they fell onto her pretty face, she was crying as well, neither could tell which tears were their own. He rested his brow on hers, closing his eyes and wishing to anyone that would listen to save her.

He heard the panting of breath first, he turned his head slightly to see Dorian rushing their way, covered head to toe in blood, a dagger hanging from his grip, his face laced with anguish as he took in his friend—friends, Celaena made a small whimpering sound as she spotted him, the Prince got on his knees as grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb across the scarred-skin, “I’m sorry,” he breathed, “I’m so damn sorry. Cel. I left you for five minutes and they attacked me, I fought them off the best I could—I see you did aswell,” a soft laugh accompanied by a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “it was my Father that sent the men, he tried to take us both out, I should’ve known this would happen, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . .” The Crown-prince was shaking with barely contained tears.

This was all his fault, it was his fault Celaena Sardothien and Dorian Havillard were suffering, being punished for being good, being fare, these humans were infinitely better than him and yet they were suffering, it was cruel, it was torture. It was injustice.

He distantly heard panicked yelling—for the Champion and her friend, not him,—the stomping of feet and clashing of swords against swords, yet no one moved, there was no point, not when time was running out, her heart would only beat so long. A person could only be so strong for so long.

He heard a shocked gasp as those loud footsteps stopped, he didn’t turn around this time, though, he did react when a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, he just kept staring at those lovely eyes, the dulled blue that had once been brighter than the sky, she was the light he had been searching for-for centuries. And now that light was going out. The fire in her was getting smothered.

“Azriel!” He heard someone yell in his ear, he came to, realising it was Chaol, he turned his head, looking into the man’s eyes, he didn’t move, just met eyes with her again, watching as her breathing turned slower, how she closed her eyes and didn’t open them for longer periods of time, he heard the Captain swear—a colourful combination—he pushed him aside and ran to his friend, holding her face in his hands. Azriel just watched. He watched as Chaol yelled for the antidote, watched as Dorian was dragged away by struggling guards, their expressions apologetic.

He watched, just as he had done his whole life, the only thing he had ever been good at—apart from killing and torturing, but that was and never would be something he was proud of,—he watched as one of Chaol’s men shoved a strange liquid down Celaena’s throat. Blood kept flowing from out her mouth but she swallowed. Nothing happened, it was too late, it would never work, he saw the truth in her eyes, she knew this was the end.

He crawled over the blood to her, putting his scarred hands that were so beautiful to her on her face, the marks looked so strange on her un-marred skin, beauty and the beast, he kissed her lightly, his lips staining with the scarlet liquid, he looked deep into her eyes. Hazel orbs meeting those of cerulean. Water and earth. The perfect clash.

In that moment, he used all the power he had to beg to the Gods, to anything, that he would do anything to let her live, even if that meant the end of him, he used everything he had to ask for mercy, he felt a strange thing flow through him, like a curious cat rubbing against his legs. Though its voice was older than the obsidian blade that lay discarded mere-meters away, “and what would you give me in return?” It purred. “Anything” he whispered, anything.

“Your soul, even?” Curious, to see what he would do for love, “my soul, yes,” it made a humming noise, like it was contemplating its options, if it could even do that, “your love will live, but you will not be standing by her side while she does, that is your price, if you visit this world again I will see to it that your Fae girl will perish.” It said. It’s voice cold and cruel, and—Fae girl? Celaena was fae, well, that wasn’t much of a shock but. . . Why didn’t she tell him? It made so much sense now, that un-earthly grace she held, the beauty she possessed that no human should have. Fae. He would’ve laughed in any other circumstances. But not this one.

“Okay, yes, i agree, but give me at least ten minutes with her,” he said at last, Chaol and Dorian were giving eachother wary glances as they watched Azriel talk to himself, he didn’t care, though, not when he felt the thing nod its head and watched in wonder as Celaena’s face brightened ever so slightly, her breathe evening out, it had worked, it had damn worked!

He kissed her again and again, he knew his time was running out now but he had enough time to kiss her, everyone else excused themselves, their faces full of shock and amazement at Celaena Sardothien’s recovery, but he didn’t care. He looked at the assassin again. Fearful for their time to end.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, brushing his fingers down her cheek, his beautiful, wicked thing, the woman with a heart of fire, his Fireheart, he had to leave her and yet he had never loved her more, the lady who walked with death by her side, the girl that smiled at the sun that rose and frowned at the sun that set, the female that kissed the scars on his hands and called them beautiful, she would make a great queen. And an even better lover.

He kissed her once more, the last time before grabbing a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and placing it in her hands gently, she didn’t move to pick it up or read it but that was fine, she didn’t have to, he didn’t cry this time, no, he smiled. Smiled as he looked deep into her eyes and said, no pain in his voice, “I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you, you were—and are, incredible. Never in my five hundred years of existence have I met someone like you. And I damn well hope the person that steals your heart realises that, you and I both knew this wouldn’t last, no matter how hard we wished it otherwise, there is a female in my world who is just as amazing, and I think you would love her, she’s not you—and never will be. But I think it would be easy for me to love her. As easy as it was to love you.” She nodded her head slowly, still dazed but seemed to understand what he was getting at.

“What is her name?” She got out, her eyes held no agony or jealousy, just pure, unfiltered love, he smiled, showing all his teeth, “her name is Gwyneth Berdara,” she smiled at that, copying his, she hit his shoulder in a playful way before saying, “very well, send me a solstice card,” he laughed, it wasn’t loud but it was full. Gods he adored this woman.

“You can count on it,” he said, she laughed softly at that, he kissed her head in goodbye before getting up, Azriel Shadowsinger was still smiling as he grabbed Truth-teller and made a return portal, and he was still smiling when he arrived back in the Day Court library, he was moving instantly, hugging Amren quickly before flying back home to Velaris.

-

He landed hard on the main balcony of the House of Wind but shook it off and made his way to the library, Clotho letting him in with a wink and a smirk, he ran through stacks and stacks of books and papers, the Priestesses curious but didn’t stop him, he kept running. And then he saw her—

He pulled to a stop right in front of her, her copper hair shining in the light of the candles, she didn’t reject him when he put his hands on her face, warm skin meeting that of cold, nor did she pull away when he put his lips against hers, no, Gwyn just kissed him back.

Yes, both Azriel and Celaena had a lot of healing to do but that would come with time, he knew the assassin was strong and would survive and not only that but flourish, but him on the other hand? He wanted this incredible Valkyrie by his side as he did, he wanted to wake up to her teal eyes sparkling and know she wasn’t going anywhere, to know she saw all of him and embraced it.

Celaena Sardothien and Gwyneth Berdara were similar in a lot of ways, but also so, so different, and he loved that, Azriel would never stop loving the haughty female that shone like the sun but he also had a lot more love to give, love that was reserved for the sassy red head and her only. His Oristian.

-

Celaena’s POV (bonus)

Everything hurt, and not just physically, not as Azriel said what he had said and handed her a piece of paper and simply left, she knew things would end badly but like this? Celaena had no idea what or who he had been whispering to before—because she’d slipped in and out consciousness many times—but all she did know was that whatever he had done, had worked. And she was so, so grateful, but. . . Now he was gone, she was alone again. Well, not really.

Dorian sat next to her, his eyes vacant as a few Royal healers patched him up, said Healers did the same to her, working quickly and quietly, no more than ghosts, she had stopped crying some time ago but her eyes still burned, her body still shook. She had nearly died. That wasn’t something someone got over instantly, Celaena had a feeling it would be a while of healing. Especially with the news.

It had gotten out that the King had attempted to assassinate his Champion and Son and the public had been outraged, revolting against him and seemingly snapping, it seemed all the citizens had gotten sick of the Rules he’d in-forced, and, rightfully so. Many people had-had enough of their family members being sent to Endovier or its sister camp, Caculla, the Assassin couldn’t help but agree with them.

But what had shocked her the most was that one of the King of Ardalan’s court members had gone rouge and killed the man, stabbing him right through the heart with his Rapier, she had been incredibly amused to hear that, apparently the old bastard was right, there were a lot of traitors working for him. Though, Dorian hadn’t found it amusing, simply nodding and staring at nothing, like he had been doing for two hours now.

She couldn’t find it in her cold heart to feel sorry for him. No, not as she remembered how much the man had made her and her family suffer for so many years, he deserved it, everyone in Erelia could breathe.

Sighing, she finally decided to open the folded paper the Shadowsinger had given her, it was relatively new but still had a few ink stains on it and lots of folded marks, as if he had opened and closed it many times before giving it to her. She breathed in—this was the only thing she could ever remember him by, faintly, she could smell the night-chilled mist and leather of his sent, and if she tried hard enough. She could almost imagine that lovely smile of his that she adored so well, her Azriel—closing her eyes for a second, she exhaled and began reading. . .

‘Celaena Sardothien-

I write you this to tell you all the things I could not voice out loud, if you are reading this then we did indeed not last, it pains me that we did not get to see how far our love went for one another but I think, even with the short amount of time we had together, that it was one of the happiest few weeks of my life, I have lived a long life but experiencing such a short amount with you has made me realise how unfulfilling it was without you in it, you made me feel alive.

I hope this letter finds you well and I hope that you are happier now or are getting there, you deserve all the joyous moments that you will have, I have never meant anything more than that—except for when I told you I loved you, perhaps I love another person when you’re reading this but you will always hold a special place in my heart, I hope the man that steals your fiery heart is worthy of it. And I hope he knows how damn lucky he is. A piece of my heart will forever belong to you, even when we both are nothing more than dust, I am yours and you are mine, just in a different world. Star-crossed lovers, remember?

—Azriel Shadowsinger’

The End. (Actually)

Note: this series is finished, I know it might not seem like much to some but this series kept me going when I was having a rough time and that is why I want to say a special thank you to these people;

-A big thank you to @cynthiesjmxazrielslover for supporting me through this all, I know we are only mutuals but you are a great friend to me and I couldn’t have done this without you, you’re my motivator and my inspiration, I love you girl, stay amazing. 🫶

-A big thank you to @azrielslittleslut for liking and believing In this series from the start, your stories are a huge inspiration and I aspire to one day write as beautifully as you do, Mwah. ❤️

-A big thank you to @shadowsingercassia for loving all of the chapters and making me want to keep going, you appeared halfway through the series but you might as well have been here since I started writing, your love for what I do has helped me more than you could’ve imagined, I know I am not a very big or popular writer but the one little like you give me amounts to hundreds others could give. I love you so, so much. Keep being the person you are. 🫶

-some thank you’s to @aelincaddel, @yashiw, and @snoopyspace for loving this series so much that you asked to be on the taglist, that little thing has meant so much to me. Thank you, lovelies. ❤️

Thank you once again everyone, even if you just liked one of the chapters from this series and no other, or rebloged one or even commented, thank you, that small gesture of appreciation made my day. The epilogue for this series is already written and I hope you all like it. I know some people wanted Celaena and Azriel to end up together but—sadly—that didn’t happen, but I hope the ending was still good. If anyone has any questions about something in the series. Please do ask.

I love you all so much and I hope to make more stories that are just as entertaining. ❤️❤️

-

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Raindrops falling on my Heart ♡

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

A/N: Well, if that weren't a shitty couple of weeks 🥲 anyway, I am back! The Leon brainrot has been eating at me for months and I finally caved, have some angst! With a happy ending of course, because I have a fragile little heart :) I have some more Leon in my drafts if y'all are interested ;) Enjoy!

~ Fi 🪻

Warnings: talks of alcohol being used as a coping mechanism, badly written fight, potential ooc Leon

Word count: 1.1k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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💧○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○❤️‍🩹○○○○○○○○○○○○○○💧

"You always do this, Leon!" Your voice echoed through your shared apartment. "You know that it's out of my control" He responded, frustrated. You scoffed. "You were gone for three weeks. Three weeks, Leon!" You yelled, tears stinging in your eyes. "I was sat here, for three goddamn weeks wondering whether you were alive or not. One Text. That is all I ask. 'I'm save' or 'I'm okay' that is all I want. I need to know that you're alright." You pleaded.

He was gone for long periods at a time and you were a nervous wreck, tossing and turning at night, hoping, praying that your lover was alive. It was eating away at you, hearing that knock on the door not knowing whether it was Leon finally coming home or his officials to tell you that he didn't make it. It was agonizing, really.

Leon, who previously had his back turned towards you, turned around. "Sure, just let me tell the bad guys to stop shooting at me so I can text you. Also, have a little more faith in me, you know I wouldn't go down that easy." He spat back. He shook his head, scoffing. Making his way to the door, he grabbed his jacket and keys. "Where are you going?" You asked bitterly. "Bar" he replied coldly. "No, Leon! You don't get to walk away from this. You always do and it's solving absolutely nothi-" you were interrupted by the door slamming in your face.

Hot tears were running down your face. You two fought like this almost everytime he came back after weeks of disappearing. It always ended with Leon threatening to leave for the evening but he never did. Until today. He actually left.

Quiet sobs were escaping your mouth. You clutched your heart with both hands to help soothe the pain. Your Relationship was really put to the test with Leon having such a dangerous job. It was obvious he couldn't just stop the whole mission, but there had to be at least 5 minutes between saving the world and kicking ass where he could let you know that he was alive. Why didn't he understand that you loved him?  Why wouldn't he let you love him? "Stubborn son of Bitch..." you mumbled, tears drying on your cheeks.

Leon angrily stomped out of your apartment building. Having shoved his hands deep into his pockets, he stepped out into the pouring rain. He'd be soaked by the time he got to the local bar but he couldn't care less at the moment. He hated fighting with you, especially over something like this, something you have been over a million times. He kept his head down, the cold rain trickling down his neck into his shirt.

The stores, restaurants and buisnesses that lined the street, cast a bright light onto his face as he looked up, searching for the sign of the bar. He was a regular at this point. Coming in, sitting down at the very back in a cozy corner, and then quietly leaving when he had drunk his anger, frustration and pain away.

Looking around, Leon spotted happy couples roaming the streets on either side. Laughing, holding hands, smiling. It made him sick. How dare they pretend to be perfect when he knows for a fact that they aren't. Every couple fights. How dare they be happy. He shot them a bitter look and went on to get into the warm and dry embrace of the bar.

Reaching for the the door he stopped in his tracks when he heard his name being called.

"Leon.." you spoke, arms wrapped around yourself to keep you warm. "Can we talk? Please?"

He turned to face you. You were soaked. Your wet hair clinging to your forehead and your neck, the flimsy jacket you had grabbed in a rush doing little to keep the pouring rain and cold out. What are you doing here, you're going to get sick was the first thought that popped into his head as he saw you. But he didn't say that.

"What? You come here to yell at me again?" He asked, coldly. You took a couple of steps towards him. "No, I.." you sighed "I love you, Leon. And I care about you. I worry for you. But you just go on your missions thinking you have nothing to lose and no one that cares about you." Tears were starting to roll down your cheeks.

"But I do! I care. You have something to lose. Us. Everything we've been through. Every fight, every sleepless night, every kiss. I just don't understand why you won't you let me love you. You own my heart and take up my every thought. You're the love of my life, Leon. You're my world, my everything. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if anything happened to you. You are loved. I love you. Isn't that enough for you to not storm into every situation recklessly and put your life on the line for-" you were cut off by Leon pressing your head against his chest. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you let all your emotions spill out. Leon stayed quiet as you sobbed into his shirt, your tears mixing with the rain.

"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart" he whispered, you could hear the tremble in his voice. Pulling away from the embrace, you looked at him, seeing the faintest hint of tears in the corner of his eyes. you reached to his face and cupped his cheek gently.

"You deserve to be loved, Leon. Please understand that. You don't have to earn love or prove yourself worthy of it. Being you is enough. I love you." You sniffled, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. Leon leaned into your touch, placing his hand on yours and pressing it closer to his face. "I-.. Thank you. I love you too. So much." he sighed, a tear escaping his eye.

You gave him a soft, sad smile and carefully brushed the tear aside. "No more fighting, okay?"

"Okay. Let's go home, baby. I think Bingo's on tonight" he grinned at you, placing a sweet kiss to your lips. You two walked home in the cold rain, your hand clutched tightly in Leons.

After a much needed hot shower you were now both cuddled up on the couch, watching your favorite show but basically talking and laughing through the whole thing. You'd missed nights like these with Leon, the cuddling, the loving, the talking. You'd grown distant the last couple of months due to the frequent arguments. But now, all was well and you later fell asleep in Leons loving arms.

💧○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○❤️‍🩹○○○○○○○○○○○○○○💧

[irondiotallica]

Flare Up

I went a little ham with this one. Couldn't stop writing it seems, but here is a new blurb. It's def a little clunkier than the other one, but I like the idea of Steve becoming a physical therapist after everything and offering his services to the cute metalhead he's had a crush on since the upside down. Idk. Oh and fun fact, Times Square used to be the porn capital before the 1990s when Mayor Rudolph Giuliani shut it down to clean up the city. Anyway, enjoy the blurb! -Silas

[Steddie]

Eddie’s hip furiously blazed with a flash of stabbing pain. His joints had been bothering him underneath the scars left by the bats and their fucked up little teeth. The scarred flesh on his left hip was uncomfortably tight, pulled taut over his muscles and bones.

The damaged skin constricted his right shoulder, as though the skin would burst into a bleeding fissure with the tiny struggling breaths that Eddie was pushing through in labored waves. He was moments away from caving and taking a dosage of pills despite having agreed to take them less.

He felt as though his insides weren’t aware that he had been kept alive. It felt like his nerves had continued to decay turning into soaked cotton doused in kerosene with one little spark of discomfort able to render him incapacitated. 

Eddie shuffled to his phone with dread flooding through his system like an unprepared county during monsoon season. He knew that he had to call, but he was reluctant to do so. Even if he had been told it was no trouble, he knew it was more than it was worth.

He fidgeted, clenching his fingers around the coiled cord that connected the phone to the receiver. He dialed the numbers still imprinted in his brain from the day they had been hastily scribbled with a wolfish grin and intoxicating charm. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and Eddie began to put the phone back in its cradle when he heard a warm voice call out.

“Hello! This is Hawkins Physio Clinic, Dr. Harrington’s office. How may I help you?”

Eddie felt his face flush at the rush that hearing Steve’s voice gave him.

“Um H-hi,” Eddie coughed as he tried to clear the nervous lump from his throat,” Hey Steve.”

His words came out weak and nervous to his ears, he couldn’t imagine how it sounded to Steve.

Eddie could practically hear the grin that Steve was wearing through the phone.

“What can I do for you Eds,” Steve huffed out behind quiet chuckles.

Eddie tried to think before he spoke, but the words were flashing like the overwhelming neon signs that covered the porn capital of seemingly the world, Times Square. He continued to stumble through his words.

“Well, you said, uh,” his words were stubbornly refusing to come out of his mouth, thick with nerves,” you said if my joints were giving trouble, to call you.”

Eddie was not used to this. Asking for help was difficult and normally he wouldn’t ask, letting the issue fester, but he was dying. The pain was consistent and recurring. Somedays were good, but for the last week, he had mainly bad days filled with tears and laying on the floor praying for the pain to pass.

“I did say that. Are you finally taking me up on my offer? I’ve been told that I’ve got the magic touch.”

God, the cocky assurance in his voice was enough to make Eddie stand at attention in more ways than one, but another jolt of agony quickly snubbed that thought out.

“Fuck.”

It slipped past his lips before he could stop himself. His free hand gripped his thigh as he slid himself down to the ground waiting for the pain to pass. His breath was coming out short and a little frantic.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

Steve’s voice was warm and sweet like heated milk before bed as the cockiness dissipated, replaced with concern. Eddie wanted to answer, but the pain was crashing in waves and drowning him mercilessly. Still, he tries to answer.

“Ye-,” Eddie takes a deep breath in, feeling a few tears slip past his bottom eyelid,” Yeah, Steve. My nerves are just-”

Eddie breathes in again. He can’t stop the slew of pants leaving his lungs. 

“-misfiring. Just misfiring or whatever the fuck the doctor said,” he finally choked out, his voice tense and seizing with stress.

“I’ll be right there, okay? Just stay put.”

Eddie laughs at that although it comes out weak and soft.

“Where am I gonna go?”

“Oh shut up, you dork. You know what I mean.”

Eddie laughs a bit more before a groan leaves his lips at another jolt. He hears the click of disconnection and puts the phone down on the floor before laying on the tiles hoping for the chilly ceramic to ease the continuous, seizing torture. 

Eddie is still on the floor when a series of knocks echoes around him. Three rapid ones followed by four spaced out. Steve was here.

“It’s open,” Eddie calls out as he strains with tension.

Steve steps in and immediately heads to Eddie with graceful movements. Eddie looks at him through slitted eyes. Steve reaches down, pulling Eddie close, and murmuring sweet words to him. You’re so good, doing amazing, such a strong guy, so strong for me; flowing past his plush lips into Eddie’s ears.

A warm, secure, big hand grips Eddie’s hip as the palm presses down and drags his hip, resulting in a quick crack and Eddie feeling his joint loosen. Eddie pushed his face into Steve’s shoulder letting those hands massage his hip and the muscles surrounding it.

 God, Steve did have the magic touch, Eddie thought to himself with each warm bout of pressure. 

He let a sigh slip as those hands deviated to pop his shoulder before massaging the sore blades. He felt good, floaty in Steve’s care.

“There we go. Good job Eds. Always so good for me.”

Eddie feels his cheeks glow red as he tries not to think of the implications of those words. Eddie stays wrapped in Steve’s arms, comfortable.

“Thank you,” he stutters out with relief weighing his voice down.

Steve grins down at him with something akin to infatuation glimmering brightly in his gaze. Eddie couldn’t help but stare unabashedly at the pretty picture that Steve Harrington made. His warm brown eyes brimming with life. His little moles that were perfectly placed on his face as though planned. Those stupidly perfect, stupidly white teeth that Eddie had thought only possible in movies. Who could forget the hair? That stupidly styled mop of gorgeous mousy brown hair. Steve was stunning in Eddie’s eyes.

“If you really want to thank me, you could let me take you out this Saturday; see that new sequel to Alien?”

“You have the worst timing for things. Robin was right, you are a dingus,” Eddie teased, laughing at the way Steve looked away with a blush that went as far as the tips of his ears. 

“Shut up,” he grumbled out, squeezing Eddie just a little tighter. 

After Steve had finally collected himself, he looked at Eddie questioningly,” So? Are you letting me take you out?”

Eddie nodded with a grin, boyish and wide. 

Steve responded with a match grin and confirmation.

“It’s a date.”

[gilded-moon]

flown the coop (but the birds fly home)

Summary: Omega has been gone with the Rebellion, and now she returns with news. Luckily for her dads, it's good news. They aren't sure they could take much else.

A/N: Hi! This is the first Bad Batch fic I've ever written, so I hope you guys like it! Adult Omega has my heart. Anyway, enjoy! (word count: 977)

Warnings: none!

It had been four months since Omega had left to join the Rebellion. Four months since Hunter had let his little girl fly away without him. It had hurt, deeply, but he was used to the pain now.

She’d kept up contact very well. They know Omega was safe and happy in the Rebellion. Well as safe as someone who fought the Empire could be. In her last call, Omega had told them that she was coming back for a few weeks before leaving again.

Nothing could quite describe how happy they were to see her again. Even Crosshair had managed a rare smile when Omega had announced her return. In fact, Wrecker had been so excited about her return that he had woken them all up at the crack of dawn to get ready for the small party they’d arranged.

It made Hunter laugh.

They were all currently waiting at the cave dock for Omega. She’d said that she would arrive in the afternoon, and it was currently two.

“Is she gonna get here soon?” Wrecker asked, straining his neck to look for approaching ships. “She said the afternoon!”

Hunter slapped his shoulder. “She’ll be here soon, Wrecker. Just give her a little bit of time.”

“Well I miss her! And I bought a lotta Mantell Mix for her.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it.” The faint humming of a ship made him turn. “I think I hear her. That sounds like the Mini Marauder.”

Crosshair squinted at the horizon, toothpick rolling in his mouth. “It is. I see her.”

The ship circled around the bay a few times before slowly flying into the cave and landing. Omega waved from the cockpit as the ramp lowered. Hunter waved back. When Omega finally exited the ship however, she wasn’t alone.

A Togruta woman who was nearly the same height as Wrecker walked off with her. The Togruta had pinkish-red skin and headtails striped with gray and white. Her eyes were a bright green, and she smiled at them as she stopped at the bottom of the ramp.

Omega ran over to Hunter and squeezed him tightly. “I’m back! I missed you so much.”

He returned the hug. “Hey kid. I missed you too. Who’s this?”

She smiled a little awkwardly and grabbed the Togruta’s hand. “This is Caisin Monki’li. She works for the rebellion too. We met when I went for my first mission, and now um…she’s my copilot. And my girlfriend.”

Caisin waved. “Hello,” she said in an accented voice. “Omega talk about you much. It nice to meet you.”

Wrecker scratched his head. “Girls can date girls? I never thought of that.”

Omega rolled her eyes. “Yes Wrecker.”

“Oh. Congratulations!"

Caisin winced at his loud voice.

“Oh sorry,” he said at a quieter volume. “I didn’t mean to be loud.”

“It okay. You seem much nice. Sorry my Basic not so good.”

“Mine ain’t great neither. Nice to meet ya!”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Crosshair inclined his head. “Hello.”

Caisin inclined her head in return. “Hello…Crosshair I t’ink?”

“Yeah. That’s me. So you want to date Omega then?”

“I do.”

“What do you do for the Rebellion?”

“I spied for a long time. My aunt used to be Jedi. I follow her path. Now I help Omega.”

“You can protect her?”

“Very well.”

“Provide for her?”

“I can.”

“You won’t ditch if things go wrong?”

“No. Honor is very important. That great dishonor. I will stay.”

Crosshair hummed and shrugged, the closest thing to a verbal approval he would ever give.

Omega and Caisin looked to Hunter next. He thought back to all the times he might have lost Omega, all the times that she might have lost him. The time when she had asked what dirt and grass and trees were. For so long, he’d seen her as a child that needed protecting. For so long, she’d been a little girl that needed her family.

But she wasn’t that little girl anymore. She knew so much about the world now, and she was more well traveled than even he was. Omega might have been that little girl once, but she had grown up a long time ago.

Hunter smiled and clasped hands with Caisin. “Welcome to Pabu.”

*

“Hi Hunter,” Omega said as she sat down next to him with an ice cream in both hands. “I brought you one.”

He chuckled and took it. “Thanks kid. So how has the Rebellion been treating you?”

“Pretty good. I’ve been flying supply missions and even got in a few scrapes. They love the Tech Turn.”

“I’m glad. He’d be proud of you, you know. You’ve come a long way since Kamino.”

“That’s all because of you. I couldn’t have done any of that without you. All of you.”

“We didn’t do any of this Rebellion stuff for you.” He gestured to Caisin who was arm wrestling with Wrecker. “Are you happy with her?”

Omega smiled though her cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah. I think I love her.”

Hunter ruffled her hair and returned the smile. “Good. That’s all we ever wanted for you. To be happy and choose how you want to do that. If that’s with her, we’re with you all the way.”

“It is. I…I want to marry her someday. Not yet! We both need more time. But someday.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad I sat with you guys at lunch that day.”

Hunter watched as Caisin cheered, having won her arm wrestling match with Wrecker. Crosshair even clapped her on the back with his flesh hand instead of his metal one. Echo had also sent along his congratulations and promises to visit when Hunter had messaged him about Omega’s news. Even if it was unexpected, it was good for everyone.

“Me too, kid. Me too.”

[13as07]

Uchiha’s Love #1

(Sakura Haruno)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to DoMyzu]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:

None

Word Count: 4,554

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Non-romantic one-shot; more friendly one-shot vibes

Heavily Itachi themed so my bad

——————————————————————

      The knock at the door startles me awake, my adrenaline rushing as I shoot up in bed. On instinct, my hand reaches across the bed in hopes of coming in contact with Itachi. It doesn't, but that's not much of a surprise. He comes and goes as he pleases. Well, as the Akatsuki pleases; more specifically, Pain.

     Another knock at the door sounds through the house, echoes of it raking through my body. I have decided I hate Itachi today. Most days I hate him, but despite the burning grudge laid deep, when he's around I can't help but feel like a love-struck schoolgirl.

     Before everything, before the massacre, before all the death and destruction, before the hatred Sasuke and I had formed, I couldn't feel anything except love and pride for the Uchiha Chief's oldest son. Our lives - my life was so great before all of it.

     Once the third knock comes I move out of my bed. My feet are silent but my thoughts aren't. About ten different trains of thought are running through my head, all ending at the same conclusion; Itachi pissed someone off again.

     My eyes drop against the door frame, in search of my katana. It's propped up against the frame as I expect. It's a beautiful sword, but unlike the blade, it's double-sided. An unchanging apology from Itachi; one of many. 'Sorry, I almost got you killed. Here's a pretty sword for when it happens again.'

     I let my finger ghost over the colorful laced handle of it as I creek the door open. "Hello," I whisper out, scanning the darkness for whatever threat awaits me.

     "Hi," comes the small response. My head snaps down, following the voice. Standing on my doorstep is a... child. A short, twig-thin child.

     I scan the outside again, making sure to take my time looking over the empty dirt road and the edge of the forest. After Itachi went rouge, he asked - demanded - me to move further out of the village.

After a couple of weeks filled with lectures about my safety, about him having easier access and a lot of negative side effects from the village, I finally caved. The final nail in the coffin was getting attacked by some of my fellow villagers for 'being an Uchiha sympathizer'.

     "Can I help you?" I ask, tone cold as I turn back to the girl standing in front of me. Her hair is in an uneven bob, the bubble gum pink color making up for the rough cut of it.

     The child's eyes are wide when she looks up at me, the green color of her irises pushed to the side from her wide pupils; a natural response from the cloudy sky hiding what little light the night gets. "You know... um..." She shifts, eyes scattering around as she thinks over her words.

     My hand tightens around the handle of my sword, the crisscross pattern of the material digging into my skin. "I know who?" I ask, doing another environment check. I will say that using a child as a distraction is a new low, even for the enemies of my rouge ninja.

     "You used to know Sasuke right?" The words hang in the air, sucking all the oxygen out of my lungs. That's new too. I've never been asked about Sasuke, and the times I've heard about him have been insults themed around him thrown into my face by the village. Well, besides Tachi's old anbu coworker. Occasionally Kakashi will give me updates on Sasuke, but he hasn't been around since before the Chunin exams.

     "I suppose you could say that," I answer, turning my attention back to the girl standing in front of me. That's a bit of an understatement. I've been present in his life from the second he was born, which is one of the only good things my situation with Itachi has brought me.

     Well, was present. The last thing the sole survivor of Itachi's mental break needs is a constant reminder of his brother. I'm sure he gets enough reminders from the image in the mirror.

     Her eyes seem to be even wider as she looks up at me. "I know him too," she tells me, eyes blinking at me as she waits for an answer.

     I don't know what answer she wants, let alone expects. "Congratulations." That's probably not the answer she wanted, or the tone she was expecting. Her face scrunches up before her head tilts down. My eyes catch on her headband, the deep imprint of the village stamped into it. "Child, it's late, I'm tired, and not in the mood. What do you want?"

     Her eyes pick up for a second before falling back to the ground. "Kakashi-sensei talks a lot about you," she mumbles, her attention on her sandals as she messes with the top layer of dust that covers the ground.

     Fucking Kakashi. Mr 'I want to fix it'. I am grateful that the shinobi treats me like an actual person instead of a broken, left-behind piece of the masochist. I'm also grateful that he keeps me in the loop about my lover's kid brother. 

     Not so grateful that he insists on sticking his nose in my business, or that he keeps pressuring me about everything. Move further into the village, reenlist as a shinobi, make a friend, and find a new boyfriend. I'm pretty sure the last part is more self-driven than it is the Sensei's guilt about Itachi eating at him.

     "And?" I push, puzzle pieces sliding into place. This must be Kakashi's little kunoichi who has fallen head over heels for Sasuke. May the Gods either make Sasuke better than his brother or save this girl from the life of being a Uchiha's heart and soul.

     It's not all bad. Itachi is very loving and kind to me. Aside from his brother, I'm his whole world. I know that, and he has ensured I never forget it. Despite that, every positive has its negative.

     I have boxes filled with letters from him. I also have boxes filled with medical supplies for the next time he shows up half-dead on my doorstep. The same hands that have touched my skin in love have been coated in the blood of the innocent. He's constantly worried I'm too isolated but is jealous of any person I come in contact with. The same voice that lulls me to sleep has told me the crimes committed by his hand. Itachi's love is as strong as his possession. Obsession is not a strong enough word to describe his admiration for me.

     Is that the kind of life this kunoichi is signing herself up for? Is she willing to place the golden chain of a Uchiha's love around her neck? A gold chain is still a chain nonetheless. Once you dip into the love of a sharingan user, there is no going back. You will be loved until you die, whether that be from nature, the hands of their enemies, or their hand if they can't take the grief of you leaving.

     I am lucky enough to know Itachi would never put his hands on me. Does Sasuke share the same twisted morals as his brother? Anyone can die if it furthers their goal, but not even the gods will rest if my loved ones are hurt; is that another reminder that Sasuke and Itachi were cut from the same cloth?

     "Well..." the starter shinobi starts, eyes still locked on the ground. "Sasuke has... he's left the village."

     Panic creeps up my chest at her words. If he's left the village, what is his squad mate doing at my door? Has he gone rogue? Or is he taking some space? Is he finally processing the grief of everything that has happened? I wouldn't put it past the councils to label him rouge without him breaking any laws of the land.

     "Why might he have done that?" I ask, doing a mental count of how long it's been since the last time I've seen Kakashi. Is that why he hasn't come around? It's been about two months; possibly three. Has Sasuke been gone that whole time? Does Itachi know? He has to know, he checks on his brother as much as he checks on me. Why wouldn't Itachi tell me Sasuke has abound the village?

"I don't know... something about power and revenge," the girl answers, lifting her head to look at me again. That doesn't help the tightening of my chest. Why must Sasuke follow his brother's path so closely? I swear one if not both of the Uchiha brothers are going to be my death.

"Well, that sucks kid," I answer, my tone a bit snippy.

My mind is preoccupied with worry. How mad would Pain be at me if I showed up unannounced? He doesn't seem to mind me coming around as long as I'm not much of a distraction for his 'top member'.

I've talked to the Akatsuki leader a lot; if anything he's the only person aside from Itachi I talk to constantly. I'm not sure if Pain's interest in me is personal like Kakashi's or more 'happy worker, good worker'. Either way, he has decided I'm off limits when it comes to his murder team members, which is a bit of an ego rub if I'm honest.

My mind is flipping back and forth between writing to Pain to request a visit or writing an angry letter to Itachi. As I'm closing the door I settle on writing Pain. This is a conversation that needs to happen face-to-face with Tachi.

"Wait!" The girl yells, her hands slamming on the door to stop me from closing it. That pulls me out of the gutter of my mind. I move the door back open, looking down at the child. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, face scrunched up again. "I just... I want to talk to you."

"Why would you want that?" I ask, letting my face soften a bit. The poor girl looks so distressed. What has Itachi's little brother done to her?

She stays silent, eyes jumping around again. Kakashi hasn't trained his genins on body language yet, which is very evident from the kunoichi constantly shifting her weight. The only way to make her nervousness more evident would be a red stamp mark on her forehead. "Sensei said you're the only person in the village who has dealt with someone like Sasuke."

"Someone like Sasuke?" I poke, trying to figure out what exactly Kakashi has told her about me; more specifically, about my entanglement with Itachi.

"Ya... um... you know, like a rouge ninja," she races out, hands flapping around like crazy. "Kakashi said a lot goes into loving a rouge ninja and a lot goes into loving a Uchiha. He keeps telling me a combination of them is the most stressful thing in the world and I should just give up on Sasuke and with him constantly talking about you I figured you could help me with my thoughts."

     The ramble brings a small, sad smile to my face. "Do you want my honest opinions or did you come here to justify your love for Sasuke?" I ask, even though I know it's a little cruel.

     "I don't know," she whispers back, eyes on the ground again.

     I let out a long sigh, the promise of going back to sleep sliding out with the noise. "Come inside child," I say, opening the door wider so Kakashi's not-so-smart genin can escape the chilly night. Well, perhaps she's a chunin now. I'm not too sure since I haven't had the chance to ask Kakashi about the results of the exams.

     The girl walks through the door, stopping in my entryway to take off her shoes. "Um... you can wear mine," I mumble sliding out of my house shoes. I don't get visitors - let alone invite them in, so there are only three pairs of house shoes in my home; Kakashi's, mine, and Itachi's. As the girl slides on my shoes, I slip into Itachi's slippers.

     I walk away from the door, once I'm sure it's locked anyway. Someone can break through it but they can't exactly do that silently. A small warning is better than no warning. "So... you know Itachi," the girl mumbles, her head on a spiral as she looks around my home.

     My home is quite decorated; pictures of the past, a few photos from recent years, and different artworks from all The Great Nations fill the wall space.

Itachi might be a bad person but he is a good provider. I can't remember the last time I wanted... well, anything. Everything I need or want is gifted to me by him or he provides the means for me to get it. The thought upsets me; another reminder of how chained to Itachi I am. Maybe I should consider reenlisting as a shinobi.

"So," I start, flopping down on the couch tucked against the wall. "What is it that you want to know, kid?"

"Sakura," the girl answers, her eyes wandering around the small living room. Even though the space is small, I have it packed quite full. Living alone leaves me a lot of free time, so the room has turned into a hobby dump center. Baskets of yarn, random piles of books, and art supplies are thrown all over the place.

"Well, Sakura, what is it that you want to know?"

I watch as she walks up to my easel. It's a half-done oil pastel piece of Itachi and Kakashi. I settled on Itachi's color scheme being red but I've been struggling with what color to do Kakashi.

"Is this Sensei?" The girl asks, unclipping my reference photo.

"Ya, it is," I answer, closing my eyes. I can imagine every detail of the picture without having to see it. It's an older photo, taken a couple of days before the massacre. Kakashi and Itachi are sparring, swords pressed together as they come to a standstill in their fake battle. The standstill only lasted a second or two, but there's no surprise there.

"I didn't know Kakashi-Sensei had a tattoo," the little one says, coming over to sit on the couch next to me.

"Ya, he does. So does Itachi and me."

"You have a tattoo too?" Sakura asks, eyes turning away from the photo to me. I nod my head, yes, turning my attention away from her. I'm starting to not like the fact that I invited her into my home.

     "Can I see it?" She asks as she scoots closer to me. I let out a soft sigh before shifting around so my right shoulder is facing the girl. I tug my sleeve up, showing off the anbu spiral. "So, you guys all just decided to get matching tattoos or something?"

"Or something," I answer, standing up and making the short walk to the kitchen. Hopefully, a cup of coffee will help calm me. Or at the very least, help me wake up better.

     "What does that mean?"

     "Ask your Sensei," I murmur, keeping my hands busy with the preparation of my drink. "What exactly do you want me to talk to you about?"

     Silence falls in between us, Sakura letting her eyes wander around my makeshift craft room again. "I don't know... just... what's it like?"

     I let my attention fall to the dripping of the coffee being made. "What's what like?"

     More silence fills the space but I don't mind. Situations like this are difficult to talk about, both for me and for her.

     A little bit of warmth fills my chest when I glance at the girl sitting on my couch. She's about the age I was when Itachi... well, became a murder. It's weird to think about, me being in her shoes just five years ago. At least she'll have more of a support system, and someone to relate to. At least I can offer her the comfort of understanding I didn't have when Itachi went rogue.

     "What were Itachi and you like before he... left," her words come out slow like she's worried I'll lose my composer from her questions. That's not surprising, rumors about me spread even now because of my anbu days, but mostly because of the Uchiha. I can only imagine the rumors circulating now that Sasuke has left the village.

     I think about it for a moment, trying to replay the long-ago years. "Um... we were all always busy. Coming and going all the time from missions. Itachi was busier than everyone else so he was always so stressed out. He never had time for anyone, including himself. If the Hokage wasn't keeping him busy, his clan was. Most days were filled with apologies for not having time for me, but..." I tilt my head, shifting my focus back to the coffee maker.

     "But?"

     "But when things were good, they were so great. He's always been a romantic. Not like loud, elaborate romantic. More quite romantic," My heart swells with love for the dumb, murderous man I can't get over. My ring clinks against my coffee mug as I pull it out of the cabinet.

     "What's the difference between a loud and quite romantic?" The girl asks, scooting off the couch and joining me in the kitchen.

     I see her eye catch my ring as it continues to clink against different things I grab. It's Itachi's mother's wedding band. It was a gift he gave me; more like a sign of ownership. Tachi isn't too happy with Kakashi snuggling up to me.

     "I don't know how to explain it. A loud romantic is like someone who always has to hang on you when you're out and about. Someone that makes their love take up as much room as possible, I guess."

     The girl nods along as she listens to my words, eyes glossed over in confusion. Maybe I won't be able to show her as much comfort as I thought.

     "Quiet romantic is... things like your partner making you breakfast even though they can't stay to eat with you. Someone who takes care of things for you without you having to ask and half the time not notice. I don't know, something like that."

     The room is quiet again as I sip on my drink. I watch Sakura, her mind preoccupied. Perhaps she's rolling through memories of her Uchiha, trying to find the times of quiet love. I know it took me a while to figure it out; to put together Itachi's love for me wasn't any less because he chooses to show love in smaller, less noticeable ways.

     Thoughts of the ring in my hand fill my head as I focus on it. Was it a proposal? Or just his jealousy getting the better of him? How would that even work? Us being married?

     "How alike do you think Sasuke is to his brother?" My eyes jump up to meet the girl's green ones. The question hangs in the air for a while as I think it over.

     "Well, I don't know Sasuke as well as I did when he was younger. I think he's more like his brother than he likes, but less like him than he notices." The answer isn't really an answer, but I still think it fits. Itachi is driven by his undying love for his brother and me. Sasuke is driven by his hatred. Love and hate aren't as different as people think.

     "What's it like? Being in love with a Uchiha? Or, well, having a Uchiha love you back?" I notice the sadness trickle into her eyes but I leave it be. I know how hard it is to tell whether anyone - let alone a Uchiha - loves you back.

"Itachi is very busy with..." I stop myself, taking a second to glance around the room before setting back on Sakura. "Being rogue. No one... a ninja doesn't go rouge to do good things. I have to live with the fact that I know some of the things he's done, and the fact that he's done worse than he'll fess up too. It's scary but... it's also comforting."

"Comforting?" She asks, face scrunched up again. "How could it be comforting knowing you're with someone who has murdered people? A lot of people."

I let out another sigh, letting my eyes wonder again. "I spent a long time wondering why I couldn't get over him. Wondering why I liked a... murder more than any of the shibobis in the village. The answer I think I've settled on is when Itachi falls to his knees at my feet, when he holds my legs in desperation for my love, for any part of me I'm willing to give him, it causes... it makes me feel important, valued."

My eyes settle on Sakura again, her own eyes wide as she looks at me. "Uchiha's are very... ego-driven, but their love is so much stronger than their egos. When a Uchiha is willing to give you that love... it's almost set in stone that they would turn the world upside down for you."

I fall silent, giving her time to let my words sink in. "You don't think anyone else would do that for you?"

"No," I answer quickly, getting a bit frustrated that I can't word the feelings Itachi pours into me in a way that Sakura will understand. "A shinobi's purpose is to serve their village. A 'good' shinobi would sacrifice their partner for the village. Itachi would sacrifice everything in this world before he let anything happen to me."

My eyes study her face, trying to read her expressions. Her face is scrunched up for a while before it softens again; a light bulb turning on behind her eyes. Maybe this girl does understand what I'm saying, even just a little bit.

"Knowing someone would go to war if you're harmed is a better promise than knowing your partner will put their job above you. Don't get me wrong, I know how terrible of a person Itachi seems to be; how terrible he can be. People see him as a murderer, a selfish Uchiha, someone who excels at manipulation. But, I know where I lie on his priority list, I know anything I want will happen if I ask, I know at the end of the day his actions are to give me a better life, even if I don't understand."

Silence envelopes us again, me watching Sakura as she thinks over my words. "It doesn't seem as bad as Sensei made it sound," her voice is small as she continues to think.

"It probably is as bad as Kakashi made it seem. Nothing positive comes without a negative. I might be protected from everything in the world but it becomes isolating." I blink my eyes rapidly, pushing down my loneliness to stay matter-of-fact. "I don't know if it'll be the same with Sasuke, but carrying the weight of what Itachi could and would do if he sees someone as a threat, if he misreads a situation, or gets too jealous... it's scary knowing what he can do."

My hands are shaky as I lift my mug again. Thoughts swirl in my head as I sip on my drink. Am I putting Sakura in danger with this conversation? Will Itachi see her as a threat? Or will he leave it be? Does he know he's isolating me? Or is he doing it on accident?

"Uchiha-san?" Sakura calls, pulling me out of my thoughts as a weird feeling crawls up my stomach. I don't know if I like being called that.

"Yes, child?"

She stays quiet, staring at me for a while as she works out her next question. "Kakashi-Sensei said something like 'you're in an open cage with broken wings' or something. What does that mean?"

I smile softly at her, Kakashi's voice ringing in my head with the same quote he's said since the death of Sasuke's clan. "Your Sensei says that I 'live my life with the door of my cage open, but with the wound of clipped wings'."

"Yes! That's what he said!" The girl cheers a bit before the excitement is replaced with sadness again.

"It means I live in fake freedom. I'm free to do what I want when I want because of the safety net my Itachi offers me. However, I still live with the terrible things he's done. With the knowledge of the things he has and is willing to do."

Sakura's face sinks with my words. A bit of my grief rubbing off on her. "Is it worth it?" The question is soft and asked to her feet instead of me.

"I think it is. I... he's not around a lot. He's always busy but I know I'm always on my mind. I know that I'm loved." I stop again, resetting my head for a second before settling on my mini-me.

"Loving someone like Itachi - someone like Sasuke, means you give a lot. You give your time with them, your own time, always being on call because you don't know the next time you'll see them if there will be a next time. You give a lot of your emotions. Worrying about them and what they're doing, to who they're doing stuff to. Grievance to the people they hurt, to the life you used to have, to the person you used to love, the person you used to be."

I snap my eyes closed, tilting my head up at the bittersweet feeling forming with my next sentence. "You give love, so much love, unconditionally. You carry a million feelings wrapped up in that single feeling of love. Being that safe space for them, sharing their burdens, their mistakes."

I tilt my head back down, locking eyes with the younger girl again. "It's a lot of mental burden, and not everyone can carry that. If Sasuke loves you, he won't love you any else because you struggle with your feelings day to day. Some days I love Itachi more than life, some days I hate him, and some days I hate myself. No matter what I feel, Itachi still loves me, still knows it's his fault for my conflicting emotions, and he's patient with me."

Once again I watch, waiting for the girl's reaction. Her face is scrunched up again and I'm sure her mind is running a mile a minute. "Do you... do you think Sasuke will be like his brother?"

"I know Sasuke is not Itachi. I don't know what he'll be like, I don't know where you lay on his line of importance, I don't know anything about what he'll be like. What I do know is what might happen. What you might have to deal with. I can't predict the future but I can help you be prepared for it."

It takes a second but Sakura's face softens again, a sad smile on her lips as she looks at me. "Uchiha-San?" I hum a yes, preparing for whatever she's about to say. "I'm glad I have you to help me through this."

"I'm glad I can help you through this as well, child."

——————————————————————

[damnaation]

A Sunless Place

A monster hunter ends up a little closer to a vampire than expected.

Soft, safe, slightly reluctant but willing vore. Monster hunter Phoenix & vampire Juniper.

There was no way her leg would support her, and there was certainly no way she would be able to climb out of this cave.

Phoenix had gone off alone, tracking reports of a missing teen and odd happenings—it had sounded like a spirit of some sort, inhabiting the cave they were now trapped in. They'd managed to dispel it, but not before taking a tumble into the blackness and quite possibly breaking their leg.

They were a sitting duck like this. No food and not enough water to last more than a day or two, and the forest the cave was in was inhabited by monsters. Their illustrious career would end with an ill advised solo hunting trip, their remains discovered in a few weeks when the next spelunker stumbled upon them-

The sound of rocks clattering jolted her out of her morbid thoughts. Clutching her knife tight, she peered into the sunless dark beyond the feeble glow of her flashlight—it had been flickering since her fall, and would likely go out before long. Nothing distinct caught her vision at first, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

With one final burst, the light died, leaving her in darkness that human eyes could never adjust to. But that one last moment had given her a brief glimpse of eyes in the dark, reflecting red back towards her.

Their blood went icy—they knew there was at least one vampire in the area, and red iridescent eyes was one of the telltale signs. Fumbling for their bag, they pawed for the vial of holy water they carried, but let out a pained gasp as they sliced their fingers on shards of glass instead. It had broken in the fall, just like their flashlight and potentially their leg.

“You're out of your depth, little hunter.” A voice called from the darkness—smooth and masculine. It echoed off the rock walls, leaving her disoriented and unable to track where it was coming from. The sound of footsteps and shifting rocks only added to the difficulty, leaving her completely discombobulated and unsure of what direction an attack might come from.

“Are you just going to sit there and toy with me, or get it over with?” The young hunter snapped, grip tightening on their knife. They wouldn't win a fight under these conditions, but they'd certainly leave more than a few wounds before they went out.

At least until a hand wrapped around her wrist, strong enough to keep her from moving but not tight enough to be uncomfortable.

“I don't see why I can't do both.” The voice murmured in her ear, making her heart skip a beat as he pulled the knife from her grasp.

“You fucking ass- real funny, John.” She snapped, but couldn't help sagging with relief at the familiar voice of her… well. She wasn't in danger, at least. Even if he thought it was funny to scare her. Their relationship was complicated, but she knew he wouldn't harm her.

“My apologies, little bird.” He hummed, still sounding a bit smug as he took their other hand to—presumably—inspect the cuts there. “But really, we have to stop meeting like this. I'm starting to think you like me carrying you out of danger.”

“I don't think the first time counts.” They responded dryly, before startling at the feeling of him licking their fingers—gross, but they knew vampire saliva was a coagulant—and then letting out a pained wheeze through gritted teeth as the motion jostled their leg.

“You won't be able to put weight on that.” A hand settled on her knee, just that faint bit of added pressure sending a sharp tingling shooting down their shin. “I’ll have to carry you out, and it will probably hurt.”

… Vampire venom had pain killing properties, she knew. But as banged up as she already was, it was probably a bad idea.

“What time is it?” It had been evening when she'd entered the cave, but she'd lost track of time. If the sun was up, it wouldn't be safe for Juniper to get near the entrance.

“You have bigger things to worry about than losing your beauty sleep, my dear.” He responded, making a shuffling noise that sounded like he was digging in her bag- oh, shit.

“Be careful- I broke a vial of holy water.” They reached out, blindly waving their hand until they touched him. “That's how I cut myself.”

“I could tell. Had a bit of a kick.” The rasp of a zipper accompanied his words, before they heard him hold the bag out. “That leg should probably be splinted, just to be safe. And you might have to hold your bag in your lap.”

“Ah- yeah.” That was smart, and she'd probably want something to hold onto that she wouldn't have to worry about digging her nails into—her leg was already bad enough just sitting there, it would no doubt be worse when he picked her up, even with a makeshift splint.

“Alright. Brace yourself, firebird.” The clunk of wood against stone sounded as his hands brushed against their leg—it took a moment for them to think of what he could be using, but the only things they had on them that could work were stakes. Ironic.

They shivered, suddenly feeling clammy as a wave of lightheadedness overcame them. “Should be rope, I think-” Their voice came out more feeble than expected, and their stomach churned nauseatingly.

“I found it. Just hold still, this might hurt.” Unable to see anything, she did her best to stay still, biting back a pained cry into a sharp whine as he tied the makeshift splint into place. Every little jostle felt like a white-hot iron being pressed into the bone of her leg, and a dull buzzing had started up in her ears by the time he finished, muffling his murmured apologies. “Okay. The hard part’s over. If you pass out now it's fine.”

Chuckling weakly, she flailed around with her fist for a moment before finally delivering a soft whack to some part of his arm. “C’n we get going? It feels like's been hours in here.”

“Hold on.” His arms wrapped around her, one behind her back and one under her knees—already sending a jolt of pain through her leg, and he hadn't even picked her up yet, but it wasn't as bad as splinting it had been. Clutching her bag tightly, she gave a tense hum, and after a moment he lifted her off the ground—getting a sharp gasp as her leg was suddenly left dangling, a hot, sharp ache settling into the bone. A profoundly unpleasant sensation, but manageable so long as she didn't dwell on it.

The typically off-putting undead coolness of his skin felt nice against their bruises, and they rested their head against his shoulder as it quickly felt too heavy to keep up on their own. He hardly seemed bothered by their weight, picking his way back out of the cave with careful precision.

After what could have been anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, as far as she knew, she felt him pause, grip tightening slightly on her. Blinking her eyes open, she glanced up at him—and then realized she could see. But not in the dim, dull colors of moonlight—shady and indirect, perhaps, but she could see a full range of hues, from the reddish rock of the cave, to the cool blueish undertones of Juniper's skin, to the green of the trees outside.

“... Sun’s up.” She murmured.

“It is.” He responded, fingers digging into their side for a moment.

They were both stuck now, at least until nightfall.

“Should get away fr’m the entrance—don't want you gettin’ burned.” They could see a brief flex of muscle as he clenched his jaw for a moment, a look of frustration overcoming him at their words.

“I'm not going to just take you back down there, that's ridiculous.”

“John, f’you get hurt m’fucked either way. Not gonna be able t’get outta here on my own.” And this wasn't a common enough destination to count on anyone coming by and rescuing them. “We'll jus’ wait a little further in.”

“No. I think there was something following us. It stopped a while back, but I'm not keen on putting you back in danger, Phoenix. Whatever it was, I don't think it's much more fond of sunlight than I am.” The vampire murmured. “It's safer for you here.”

“One wrong reflection an’ we're both dead anyways.” She retorted, the foggy feeling in her head starting to fade in favor of frustration. “Unless you've got a portable darkroom in your pockets, it's not safe for you here.”

… Well, now that she said that, she might have an idea. An absolutely insane, ridiculous one, but still.

“... Put me down.” They just had to hope nothing they needed had broken in the fall.

“I know that look.” He gently set them down on a rock, kneeling down at their side between them and the depths of the cave. “You have some hair-brained scheme up your sleeve.”

“Yeah. I'm light proof.” They responded, digging through their bag desperately. There—the small grimoire was slightly damp from the shattered vial of holy water, but still readable. And the soft bundle of cloth with it seemed undamaged.

“... You're going to have to elaborate.” He eyed the book apprehensively, keeping his hands well clear but still staying close. “Did you hit your head?”

Oh, excellent—the little jars of materials had survived, wrapped in their fabric padding. She set them to the side before carefully starting to page through her book.

“I've been learning things that might be useful—protection, warding, that kind of stuff. And some things that just seemed interesting.” Hopefully him being a vampire wouldn't cause problems, but she hadn't had any issues before with non-human subjects. “One of which being a shrinking spell.”

Juniper tensed slightly at their side, putting a hand on their knee to pull them out of their thoughts. “Phoenix. What are you thinking.”

“I can shrink you and keep you out of the sunlight. I'm light proof—it might be a little gross, but if I swallow you-”

“Are you even hearing yourself?” He interrupted, a hand cupping their cheek to turn their head to face him. There was clear concern in his gaze, brows furrowed as he studied them carefully, along with a small amount of apprehension. “Doll, you need a hospital. You're not making sense."

For a brief moment his gaze drifted, settling on the old scars on their neck before flicking towards the mouth of the cave. Red iridescence flashed, overwhelming the rich hazel of his eyes for a brief second and making him look unsettlingly inhuman. With a soft sigh he leaned forward, hand sliding from their cheek to the back of their neck as he pressed a cool kiss to their forehead. “I will be fine. I've survived nearly thirty years on my own without a coven, one sunny day won't do me in. I doubt the sun would even reach this far, anyways.”

Phoenix leaned her head into his touch, reaching up to brush his hand as it returned to her cheek. “My head is fine, John. I know what I'm doing. And there's moss here—it gets at least a bit of sun.”

He looked nervous, glancing away before closing his eyes and sighing heavily. “Couldn't you just put me in a pocket instead?” His voice held a note of apprehension as he spoke. “That seems simpler than… the alternative.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest, and with a soft hum she turned her head just enough to brush a kiss to his palm. “It wouldn't be completely light proof, and I'd be worried about hurting you. But I promise, it'll be okay.”

After a few seconds he hung his head in resignation. They had extensively thought it through, but they also understood it was a lot to drop on him.

“... Fine. But be sure to use some of that protection for yourself—just in case our lurker decides to make a move without me here. And let me out as soon as it gets dark.” He still looked tense, but shifted to sit cross-legged on the cave floor next to them.

“I wouldn't be able to get very far without you, so that's not a worry.” She murmured with a bit of self deprecation—her leg would keep her in place quite efficiently. “It'll just be until sunset. And you can rest if you want—you're up late, for you.”

Juniper snorted softly, a half-grin appearing on his face for a moment. “Always trying to see the positives, aren't you. What all will your spell entail?”

Giving him a soft, reassuring smile, they turned back to their little grimoire and collection of materials, grabbing one of the bottles and holding it up to look at the label—yes, this was the right one. They handed it to him as they spoke. “Not much. It shouldn't take long. Drink this.”

“What is it?” He asked, peering curiously at the dark liquid inside before opening it. She could see him go still out of the corner of her eye as the scent hit him.

“One of the strongest protections I know.” Powerful magic required sacrifice. For this, not much—just a drop or two of her blood, along with several herbs used for protection. No silver, holy water, or wolfsbane, but still just as strong. They were both well aware he'd taken more than a few drops before, and she would freely give up more if asked.

He drank it without a word, like throwing back a shot before setting the bottle down, looking at them expectantly.

“Okay. Now for the other part.” Strictly speaking, the potion hadn't been necessary, as the shrinking magic had some levels of protection built in, but they would rather be safe than sorry. Even if he was a vampire capable of recovering from injuries that would kill most people, he could still feel pain, and they didn't want to run the risk of hurting him, even accidentally.

Pawing through the other bottles, she pulled out a few filled with dried leaves and such, setting them down on the book to hold the pages down. “Are you ready? It's a little disorienting.”

“As I'll ever be.” He murmured, gazing at them with a slightly apprehensive but still trusting look in his eye. They'd had plenty of chances to harm him if they had wanted to, and they both knew it.

“Alright.” With that, she began to read from the grimoire. The materials in the jars took on an eerie blue glow, along with the words on the page, eventually wreathing around Juniper’s body as well. She couldn't look up to see or she'd lose her place, but once she was done she blinked a few times, shaking her head to clear the odd feeling magic always left, before turning to look at- well, where he had been. He was still sitting there, of course, but now at only a few inches tall.

“You weren't exaggerating. This is weird.” His voice was quiet enough they had to strain to hear him, watching as he looked over his hands before looking up at them.

“Do you feel okay?” She asked, setting the book and now-empty jars aside before lowering a hand palm-up to the ground next to him.

“A bit of vertigo, but it seems to be fading.” Getting to his feet, he slowly made his way towards her hand, hesitating for a moment. But he eventually climbed on, a slight, cool weight settling into the center of her palm as he sat down.

They gave him a few moments to get settled before carefully curling their fingers and lifting their hand up towards their face. Raising their other hand, they cupped it slightly around their palm to block any potential stray reflections from outside as they peered at him.

Some part of her was amused at the abstract concept of a tiny vampire, even as the rest of her gently cradled him in her palm as he grabbed at her fingers for stability. He was tense, breathing fast—even though he didn't need to—, fingers digging into her skin in a way that was quickly becoming uncomfortable.

“John- it's okay. You're safe, I've got you.” They murmured, their free hand hovering behind him but not touching—they wanted to provide comfort, but they'd seen him like this before, and knew touch could just end up setting him off worse.

Still, she didn't want to just leave him like this. She bit her lip in thought, humming under her breath before carefully pulling him close and cradling him against her chest—hissing under her breath as she accidentally jostled her leg in the process. He squirmed for a moment, letting out a sharp hiss before stilling. The tension slowly drained from his body as her heart beat slow and steady in her chest.

“Phoenix?” His voice was somewhat shaky when he spoke up, and they peered down at him, shifting their hands to allow him to sit back in their cupped palms.

“I'm sorry—didn't mean to startle you.” They murmured, gently rubbing his shoulder with their thumb. He didn't look at them, keeping his gaze turned down at his own hands resting in his lap.

“I know.” She could only just feel him resting a hand against her thumb, leaning into the touch for the briefest of moments before he looked up at her—squinting a bit in the brightening light from outside. Still not direct, thankfully, but still likely uncomfortable to his eyes. “... We should get on with it. Wasting time.”

“Okay.” They were still worried about him, but he had a point. The later in the day it got, the more likely it was some stray reflection could find its way in. “... Take your shoes off though. S’gross.”

That made him snort, shooting her a somewhat incredulous grin. “That's the thing that bothers you? Really?”

Joking about it eased the tension. Returning his grin with her own, she lifted him up a few inches closer to her face, shifting him into one palm as she did so. “Yeah. Got no idea where those things have been.”

Juniper scoffed, but put his shoes in their free hand when they held it close. The tiny footwear was tucked into the pocket of their shirt, and another moment of silence fell.

“How do you want to do this?” She murmured. It was only fair to let him decide—she knew he hated being at the mercy of others, for entirely understandable reasons. What pieces he'd shared of his past, it rarely ended well.

“Ah, excellent question.” His voice was tense, even as he leaned into their touch. “Just… get it over with, I suppose.”

“Alright.” Lifting him to their face, they paused to brush a light kiss to the top of his head, causing him to flinch slightly before relaxing. After giving him a moment to calm down again, they opened their mouth wide and carefully slipped him inside.

The tiny vampire shuddered, letting out a little sound that she only barely heard as she pulled her hand back. She didn't close her mouth quite yet, instead giving him time to adjust and stop shaking before moving again. After a few moments he let out a breath, untensing and patting her tongue awkwardly, and she slowly closed her jaws—noting with mild curiosity that he seemed to relax a bit more once he was sealed in darkness.

He was cool in their mouth, and oddly refreshing—somewhat like mint. Not what they would have expected, but better than some of the alternatives that had come to mind. With a gentle hum they started to lap at him, trying not to spook him again but also knowing he was big enough it would be uncomfortable if not impossible to swallow him without it. He squirmed a bit, but it seemed more from surprise than distress, as he shortly settled down and allowed them to nudge him around their mouth freely.

After a few moments she paused—he'd told her to get it over with, but now she couldn't help but balk at the thought, her heart speeding up slightly from nerves. Even at this size, he could still do a lot of damage to her if he lashed out—vampires were dangerous, even if it had been a long time since he'd wanted to harm her. But keeping him in her mouth for hours until sunset wasn't much of a solution either—and he was trusting her not to hurt him, so she would return it.

Tilting their head back, they swallowed firmly, wincing a bit as he flailed for the briefest of moments before going still again—that didn't feel particularly pleasant. They could feel him slipping down their throat, a sensation almost akin to swallowing a too-large bite of food, though they supposed it wasn't particularly inaccurate. Not exactly unpleasant, but certainly odd.

He was still noticeably cooler than her body, and she couldn't help but wonder if he would eventually warm up or remain a chilly weight inside her for the entire time.

A gasp escaped her as he finally slid into her stomach, seeming much heavier than he had been in her hands. It was oddly satisfying in a way she didn't want to think about too closely, instead resting a hand over her middle and focusing on him. It took a little bit before he finally moved, which sent a shiver down her spine—not uncomfortable or nauseating like she would have expected, but… almost nice, though a little overwhelming.

“You okay?” They asked, unsure if he would be able to hear them, or they him. He went still for a moment before pressing a hand against her own.

“It's very slimy.” His voice was quiet and they had to focus, but they could hear him. A little huff escaped them at his response, rolling their eyes slightly.

“Better than you burning to a crisp. I'll let you out as soon as it's sundown, alright?” A yawn tried to interrupt her speech, the long, exhausting night starting to catch up with her. It would be several hours until then, she could doze a bit—though she did pull her knife back out of her bag to keep in her hand, just in case.

“Alright. You sound like you could use some rest too, little hunter.” He paused, before chuckling. “... That doesn't quite work right now, does it.”

She hummed, leaning back against the wall and allowing her eyes to drift closed to the sound of wind through the leaves and birds chirping outside the cave. “Nope.”

“Don't do anything stupid while I can't get you out of it. Which means staying put unless you absolutely have to move.” They could feel him poking them to make his point, and shifted in place slightly at the odd feeling.

“I know, I know.”

“Good. … Good night, Phoenix.” The feeling of him leaning back and relaxing sent a rush of warmth and a sudden protective feeling through them. They hummed again, leaving their hand where it rested over their middle—what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And they were ready to get whatever snatches of sleep they could.