#no body no crime my beloved <3 i have a bad feeling about this one

[posh--bee]

hotel room revelations || Spencer Reid

pairing → Spencer Reid x Reader

summary → While on a case, you have to not only share a hotel room but also a bed with the BAU's resident genius Spencer Reid whom you have had a crush on since he first joined the FBI. When you wake up during the night with his arms wrapped around you, previously hidden feelings come to light and you realize that your unrequited feelings for him might not be so unrequited after all.

warnings → sharing a bed, love confessions, early seasons!Spencer, insecure!Spencer, misunderstandings, friends to lovers, reader is part of the BAU, no descriptions or pronouns used for the reader, no y/n used

author’s note → I love the "there was only one bed" trope so of course I had to write it with my beloved genius. I'm so happy to finally finish another fic again so let me know what you think about it! <3 (forgot to post this fic and now my cm obsession fizzled out, oops. But I know it will come back to haunt me sooner or later)

word count → 5.2k

When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not too happy about it and not sure who or what to blame for it.

You grumble your dissatisfaction without opening your eyes and the warm body behind you freezes.

Now you’re a little confused and you try to fight off the urge to just drift off again so you can actually form a coherent thought because you don’t remember going to sleep with someone else by your side last night. But thinking is still a little difficult when you’re half-asleep and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to even remember if you’re in your own bedroom right now or in another state in some sort of hotel room because of work, so your memory is not the most reliable source of help at the moment.

The someone behind you still holding you in their arms seems to get a little impatient and tries to slowly move away from you again but you don’t let them, instinctively grabbing their hand that is resting softly against your stomach and interlacing your fingers with theirs to keep it there. You hear a startled little sound close to your ear and feel the someone behind you going rigid, even holding their breath in surprise. Feeling bad about spooking your bedmate so suddenly, you apologize by soothingly stroking up and down their arm that is draped over your waist before going back to holding their hand. You don’t want them to let go of you even though you’re still not quite sure who exactly they actually are—but you’re still working on that.

What you do know, however, is that they’re warm and holding you in a gentle embrace and that you feel very safe and secure in their arms. And that you don’t want it to end.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction when you feel the someone gradually relaxing against you once more and you can finally pick up that derailed train of thought of yours to figure out where you are and why you’re not alone in bed.

But that’s when the someone behind you decides to speak up and solve the mystery at last.

“I… I’m really sorry, but I have to move. My arm’s completely fallen asleep…”

Oh. That’s right.

His voice is quiet, timid even and still laced with sleep, and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more awake than just moments before, your heart immediately picking up speed as you remember how you and Spencer ended up in the same bed together.

You’re currently in a little hotel room in a city halfway across the country because of a case JJ had presented you the day before. Five bodies with a sixth person still missing and the local police had decided to ask for the BAU’s help to stop whoever is responsible for these crimes. Spencer and you started to work on the geographical profile while the rest of the team drove to the scenes of crime and talked to the victims’ families. After working until the middle of the night but without making any considerable progress anymore, Hotch decided it was time to go to the hotel, rest, and return to the case after a good night’s sleep.

The hotel was pretty booked already when you boarded the jet so when you arrived at last in the lobby, exhaustion already weighing heavy on your shoulders and your eyelids dangerously heavy, the team was told they had to share rooms and even ended up with a room with a double bed instead of two single ones.

When JJ first announced this little circumstance at first, you really couldn’t care less. Somehow, your tired brain didn’t really consider that you would be one of the people staying in the room with a double bed and much less who would be the other person with you. But when Morgan sauntered over to you, letting the key ring spin around his finger, a wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew nothing good would come of it.

With a smirk he pressed the keys into your hand and announced that you and Spencer would be the lucky pair to share the room with the double bed, giving you a wink that made you want to kill him just a little bit. Morgan knows very well about your little, not all that serious crush on your coworker and makes a point to tease you about it whenever he can, which, unfortunately for you, is very often. Your only consolation is that Spencer is too oblivious to pick up on it even though Derek makes sure everyone and their mother knows how you feel about the young doctor. He obviously claims it’s only because he’s playing cupid and can’t stand the two of you dancing around each other for eternity, but you know for a fact that he’s obviously doing it for his own entertainment as well. Besides, playing cupid only gets you so far when only one person has feelings for the other one—which you’re painfully aware is the case for you and Spencer.

With an especially dirty eyeroll you grabbed the keys and turned to look at Spencer who gave you one of his signature tight-lipped awkward smiles. He didn’t look very happy at the prospect of having to share not only a room but also a bed with you and you tried your hardest not to take it personally. You know Spencer values his personal space so having to spend this and the following nights with another person next to him is nothing to look forward to for him—even if it’s with a good friend.

You masked your disappointment and bruised feelings with a small smile of your own and led the way toward the elevators at the end of the hotel lobby, pointedly ignoring Morgan’s teasing voice telling you to have a good night. You silently swore to yourself that you would get back at him for all of this when the case was solved and over, but right now you were more worried about surviving the next few nights of having Spencer so close to you yet completely out of your reach.

Dealing with your unrequited feelings for the young doctor on a daily basis wasn’t always easy for you but you contended yourself with being his coworker and friend even though it hurt more than you cared to admit. In the beginning, you hoped that your feelings would go away if you just ignored them—after all, it was just a stupid little crush on your adorable and dorky new coworker. But as time went on, and you were still plagued by an eruption of butterflies in your stomach whenever Spencer smiled at you, or accidentally brushed your hand with his when handing you a pen or a cup of coffee, or just stood near you for an extended period of time, you had to admit to yourself that your feelings for him were far more serious than you anticipated at first. The thought of just confessing to Spencer had crossed your mind a lot at this point, to get it off your chest, but the possibility of him rejecting you and losing one of your best friends in the process scared you too much to actually go through with it.

And before you knew it Spencer went on a date with JJ and made out with a gorgeous blonde actress in her pool and flirted with pretty barkeepers, and that was proof enough for you that keeping your feelings to yourself was the right course of action which didn’t mean it saved you from heartbreak or feeling sorry for yourself.

You started to distract yourself with alcohol and attractive strangers between cases, collecting fleeting memories with partners who never really helped you forget the one person who was always on your mind and in your heart. You went on like this until you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror anymore, feeling disgusted and ashamed of yourself, knowing that it would only get worse but still not stopping, telling yourself it was the price you had to pay for not having to spend the nights all by yourself. It was until you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment of yet another stranger, hurriedly opening buttons and zippers, carelessly tossing clothes to the floor, giggling when the stranger’s lips connected to yours despite feeling sick to your stomach. You saw it only when the stranger moved to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck; a photo of the stranger’s family, beautiful children and an adoring partner smiling brightly for the camera, and you wondered if you would ignore this too now that you have seen it, like you ignored the noticeable mark on the stranger’s finger where a wedding ring was clearly missing.

You felt faint when you pushed against the stranger’s shoulders, almost falling over your own two feet leaving the apartment only to find yourself in a part of town you were completely unfamiliar with in the middle of the night. Not knowing what else to do, you called Morgan who picked you up sitting on the curb, looking and feeling pathetic with tearstains on your face. He simply raised his eyebrows at you and wordlessly helped you into his car before driving back to his place. There, he gently wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled with you on his old sofa for the entire length of three feel-good chick flicks all while alternating between handing you spoons of ice cream and tissues to dry your tears, listening to you in the early hours of the morning spilling your guts to him.

Thankfully, he never talked to you about that night again and you were grateful for it; otherwise, you would probably die on the spot from all the shame and embarrassment it would trigger in you. You had still apologized for inconveniencing him like this, staring at his shoes while stumbling over your words, fingernails biting into the palm of your hands. But Derek acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, flashing you one of his defeating handsome smiles and you knew that all was good between you two, he was still your friend and didn’t think any less of you, so you pulled him down to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.

It didn’t however save you from Derek wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever Spencer and you sat pressed shoulder to shoulder absorbed in case files or when the two of you would share headphones on the jet while returning home. You are used to it by now, simply sticking your tongue out at him or giving him the finger when Hotch and JJ aren’t looking, earning a good-natured laugh from Derek and a confused glance from Spencer, who, to your relief, never quite understands what the constant teasing between you and the older agent is about.

So yes, after seeking pointless comfort with strangers until the point you almost didn’t recognize yourself anymore, you now are at a point where you would say that generally, you are just fine with knowing that Spencer would never see you as anything other than a good friend and coworker.

But after an exhausting day working on a grueling case, having made close to zero progress on it, and having to share a hotel room and a bed with Spencer only to wake up to him holding you in his arms, you really wish the universe would give you a break one of these days so you could take the time to get over your feelings for your genius friend once and for all.

You sigh quietly, willing your racing heart and those malicious butterflies in your stomach to calm down before letting go of Spencer’s hand, trying your best to ignore the pang of disappointment. The feeling only worsens when Spencer moves away from you, carefully putting some distance between yourself and him, taking all his warmth with him and you can’t help but to curl into yourself at that.

You feel him settle on the other side of the bed, already missing his touch even as fleeting as it was, feeling wide awake and wondering how you will ever fall asleep again tonight after that—and the nights still to come.

“I’m so sorry for ambushing you like that,” Spencer’s quiet voice cuts through the silence of the room, his bashfulness palpable with every word. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, Spence. Don’t worry.” Quite the opposite, but you keep that thought to yourself, opting for lightening the mood instead. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, I had to share a bed with Emily before and I woke up to her having me in a chokehold so I prefer having you as my bedmate by a mile.”

You’re blessed with a little laugh from Spencer, your body relaxing against the unfamiliar mattress but still missing his closeness from before. You feel him shift on his side of the bed and can’t help but wonder if he too was more comfortable with holding you in his arms. But you quickly dismiss this silly thought of yours, knowing that indulging in false hopes and wishful thinking doesn’t save you from the reality that Spencer just doesn’t feel the same way as you.

“But I’m serious. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you reiterate after a moment of silence between the two of you, slowly turning around for a more comfortable position which isn’t in the slightest related to the fact that like this you are facing Spencer now. You can’t really make out his features in the darkness of the hotel room but maybe it’s for the best. Otherwise, you probably would give into the temptation of reaching out and brushing a few unruly curls of his behind his ear, your fingers softly lingering on his face just a tad too long.

“That’s—I’m glad…” His voice is quiet, almost distant, and you wonder if he’s already drifting off to sleep again. You couldn’t blame him for that. The day the two of you had was long and wearying, coming into work just to be presented with gruesome pictures from various crime scenes, discussing the UnSub’s profile and MO while being on the jet before being introduced to police officers and grieving family members alike, getting to work without a single break on your mind. If it wasn’t for these inconvenient feelings of yours that caused your heart rate to resemble that of someone who just ran a mile, you would probably feel as exhausted as Spencer is. But in your case, sleep is currently not really something you can think about when all you want is to curl up in his arms like before, feeling warm and safe and happy until the harsh reality of the next morning catches up with you again.

“Still, I’m sorry,” Spencer then whispers into the darkness, your name leaving his lips in a soft sigh, and you frown. There’s really nothing he has to apologize for and you want to tell him as much, but he’s faster than you, his words coming out in a self-conscious rush.

“I’m sorry that you are stuck here with me. I know you’d prefer being with Morgan instead and I’m sorry that he’s being such an idiot about all of this.”

Now you really don’t know what he’s talking about. What does Derek have to do with anything? But Spencer doesn’t let you voice your thoughts, only to confuse you even more.

“I-I know you like Morgan so you were probably hoping that he would just assign this room to himself and you, and I really don’t get why he’s so set on acting like he doesn’t have feelings for you as well. I get he’s not really someone who does relationships but he’s lucky that someone special like you is in love with him so—”

“Spencer, stop—” you suddenly interrupt this agitated rambling of his, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s somehow convinced you have feelings for your fellow agent. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not in love with Derek Morgan. We’re friends, but that’s really all there is to it. What on earth makes you think that I like him like that?”

You push yourself up on your elbow in your bewilderment, the sheet that covers you and Spencer falling from your shoulders in the process. You quickly turn around, turning on the light by your bedside, not believing what nonsense you just heard. Dumbfounded, you look at the genius lying beside you, his expression confused and apologetic in return.

“I’m—sorry?” he starts while sitting up slightly so the two of you are at eye level, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I just thought… The two of you are always together, even outside of work, on the weekends. And you have all these little private jokes with Morgan and conversations that always stop whenever someone else gets closer. And he always makes you laugh and flustered, so I just figured—you know, that you like him more than just a friend or a coworker.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of the stiff hotel sheet while you can only stare at him open-mouthed.

“And I figured that he’s an idiot for not realizing that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have your heart.”

The silence in the dim hotel room stretches on while Spencer pointedly avoids meeting your eyes and you continue to stare at him, your mind still trying to process that he is convinced about your feelings for Morgan when your heart only belonged to Spencer for a long time now, when you wish for nothing but to wake up in his arms like you just did every day for the rest of your life.

You reach for him and grab his face, holding him in place when he’s startled by your sudden action and the intense eye contact, his eyes widening in confusion and shock but you don’t care. You can’t. There’s a sudden need in you for him to understand how wrong he is about your alleged feelings for Morgan, to make him see the truth that was always right in front of him.

So you resolutely look into his eyes, ignoring the subtle trembling of your fingers against his soft skin and the ringing of your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve experienced explosions going off right next to you, you’ve cornered armed serial killers and ran into possibly lethal situations without a second thought, but somehow you’ve never been as fucking sacred as you are right now. You could ruin everything you have with Spencer with what you are about to say, but you can’t keep it in any longer. You need him to know how you feel about him, how you’ve felt about him for so long now.

“Spencer Reid, you listen to me. I am not in love with Derek Morgan, I never was and I never will be. I can’t believe you’d think that when I’ve been pining for you for literal years now! It’s always been you, I need you to know that. From the moment I saw you standing next to Gideon with that stupidly adorable sweater and that awkward smile of yours, I knew I was done for. So I never want to hear you say that I have feelings for Morgan when I’m in love with you!”

Your voice is shaking throughout your little speech, but you make it to the end, intently staring into Spencer’s eyes who looks back at you with such a stupidly shocked expression that you would’ve laughed at him if not for your heart beating so wildly against your ribcage that it physically hurt.

The silence that follows your confession is oppressive and all-consuming, and you let go of Spencer’s face so he doesn’t fall victim to your nervous urge to sink your fingernails into something. Instead, they bite into the skin of your forearms as you hug your midsection, watching the young genius open and close his mouth multiple times without making a sound, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Dejectedly, you nod to yourself, already putting together a list of romantic comedies in your mind Morgan will have to endure together with you while you pathetically sob into his shoulder, tissues and ice cream keeping you company on your little coffee table in front of the TV.

You didn’t really expect it to end any differently, but it still hurt more than you anticipated. Your eyes begin to sting and you close them, stubbornly fighting the urge to cry. You have enough time for that later, preferably when you’re not sharing a room with Spencer anymore and the case is over, so you take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself before opening your eyes again.

Spencer is still looking at you with wide eyes, a noticeable blush adorning his cheeks. Any other time you would find this discovery incredibly endearing, but right now, with your heart in pieces and dangerously close to crying, it only reminds you that you can’t take your words back, that now he knows how you feel about him and that your relationship with him will never be the same again, even if the two of you stay friends.

You manage a meek smile that Spencer doesn’t return, and you wonder if his silent reaction to what you revealed to him could be a blessing in disguise after all. You want him to say something, anything, to you but at the same time you don’t know how well you and your bruised heart would handle hearing him say that he doesn’t feel the same way about you out loud.

What you do know is that you can’t stay here any longer, you need to get out of this room, out of this situation, now.

With one last look at Spencer, you avert your eyes, your voice quiet, tinged with regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper before sitting on the edge of the bed, your back now to him, only tilting your head back to speak in his direction. “I’ll ask the others if I can stay in one of their rooms for the night.”

You move to stand up and that’s what snaps Spencer out of his daze at last, hurriedly reaching for you before you can get up, much less process what is happening, one of his large hands on your arm while the other is cupping your jaw tenderly, almost hesitantly. The kiss he pulls you into then is the opposite of that. It’s urgent and desperate and completely steals your breath away, your heart leaping into your throat and your stomach lurching in confused delight. Still, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, entirely too overwhelmed to react, but when you do it’s just as urgent, just as desperate. Your teeth clank together slightly but you ignore it in favor of meeting Spencer’s tongue with your own, your head beginning to spin. You’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the lack of oxygen but you really can’t care less about that at the moment, especially not when you swallow the appreciative groan that falls from Spencer’s lips as one of your hands finds its way into his curls and pulls not all too gently on them.

The kiss only breaks when you’re certain the two of you are running out of air completely but still Spencer whines quietly at the sudden loss of contact, following your lips until the hand in his hair tugs him back. You placate him with a quick peck to his nose before concentrating on calming your heavy breathing and frantically beating heart, your forehead softly resting against his.

You don’t protest when Spencer starts to pull you closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and guide you to settle in his lap, your head now resting on his shoulder, humming in contentment at the kiss he presses to the top of your head. You don’t say anything for a while, having no need for words, not when you feel Spencer’s heart mirror the rhythm of yours as you place your hand on his chest.

You look up at him when he covers your hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that makes your skin tingle pleasantly. His eyes swim with emotions but he doesn’t look away as you try to decipher all of them even though his blush reaches from the tip of his ears to somewhere underneath the soft shirt he wears. Your fingers itch to pull the collar of the shirt down a little, just to see how far that blush really goes when he quietly clears his throat, the bright smile on his pretty lips faltering slightly.

“I’m sorry for—for not saying anything just now. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure you really meant what you said, I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t some sort of joke.”

You shift in his embrace, ready to repeat what you have said, to express what you feel for him until he is sick of hearing your voice, but before you can even open your mouth, he quickly steals a kiss from you, and then another one, effectively shutting you up and looking quite proud of himself too when he meets your eyes again. So you have no choice but to let him finish what he has to say like you always do, always giving him time to collect his thoughts and listening to him when he is ready to share them with you.

“But I know you would never lie to me, especially not about something like this and only then did I realize we could’ve been doing this years ago if I hadn’t been such an idiot and too blind to see what was in front of me all along because—because I’ve been in love with you for a long time now too.”

The smile that spreads on your face is so big it hurts your cheeks, radiant enough to challenge the whole sun and you have to twist your fingers into the front of Spencer’s shirt to pull him down to you so you can feel his lips on yours again. They’re soft and warm and real and when you part again the laugh that bubbles past his is like music to your ears, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You lean further into him and his arms around you tighten in response, enjoying the comfortable silence in this unfamiliar hotel room for a little while longer before gently speaking up again.

“You’re not an idiot Spencer. How could you have known when I’ve always been too scared to say anything? But now I did and we’ve finally found each other, and from now on we can make up for lost time. What do you say, my pretty boy?”

The adoration shining clearly in his brown eyes tells you everything you need to know and you move in to kiss him once more, preferably without ever stopping again, but suddenly Spencer tenses against you, making you look up at him with a quizzical look.

You can’t stop the little groan that escapes you at his next words.

“You and Morgan—did you really never—?”

As your genius worries his bottom lip between his teeth you really wish Morgan would finally stop being a part of your conversation.

“I—I believe what you’ve said, that you don’t have feelings for him,” Spencer continues, “but I’d understand if at some point, you know—because the way you are around each other—"

“Spencer. Let’s not do this again,” you have to interrupt a second time this night, but not unkindly. “Yes, even though I have feelings for you I have slept with other people, but it never meant anything to me—in fact, it just made me feel so, so horrible. And when it comes to Morgan—he and I are friends and that is all there is to it. It’s true I spend a lot of time with him, that we have a lot of little inside jokes and private conversations just for our ears, but do you want to know what the one common factor is with all of these things? It’s you, Spence.”

You emphasize your words with a kiss to his jaw, easing the tentative look he gives you by gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Most of the time I spent with Derek was just me whining about how much I wish you were mine and how unfair it is how adorable you look whatever you do and how smart and kind and pretty you are, and that you probably tried to kill me when you wore your glasses to work every day for some time. It’s honestly a miracle Morgan didn’t also develop a crush on you by sheer proximity to me, like through osmosis. He had to listen to me for years pining about you so he gets back at me for it by teasing me relentlessly about you, so I’ll have you know that all of our funny little private jokes are actually at my expense. My point is, even if Morgan would’ve wanted to start something with me—which he never did by the way—, he, and those other people too, never stood a chance because I only ever had eyes for you, Spence.”

“Oh.”

Spencer shakes his head in disbelief but he’s grinning like a fool with his cheeks and ears painted cherry red. He’s quick to hide his face in your hair, too overwhelmed by the sincerity in your voice and you think that now your genius finally, finally understands. But still, you would continue to reassure him about your feelings if his insecurities should get the better of him again, understanding that he doesn’t doubt you but that the voice in his head sometimes isn’t the kindest to him and that everything about this is very new to him.  

You close your eyes, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder until you’re on the brink of falling asleep, the comfortable and content silence of the hotel room and the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest steadily lulling you to sleep. After the long day you’ve had and the excitement of this night, exhaustion has now caught up with you and if the big yawn that escapes Spencer is any indication, he is feeling its effect as well.

You’re vaguely aware of Spencer reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp before moving the both of you to lay down together, shifting and coordinating limbs until you’re both comfortable with him holding you in his arms, his hand resting softly on your stomach and your fingers interlacing with his.

You smile to yourself, knowing that from now on you’ll have the privilege of falling asleep like this every night—in the arms of your beloved genius.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Here's a strange ask for you, but hopefully, an amusing and thought-provoking one as well.

What wedding present would Grima buy for a couple he doesn't like? What would he choose that says 'fuck you, and enjoy your new life'?

I have been racking my brains on this all day, and can't come up with anything good.

As Tumblr's resident Grima expert, do you have any ideas? :)

Oh man this is a thought provoking one!

I mean, it would first of all depend on who are the recipients. How much does Grima Not Like Them? What was the cause? Is it reciprocated or is Grima doing a one-sided hate-on?

Then there's the question of when is this occurring? Pre or post-War? Also, is this couple Rohirric or from another culture? Because that will inform what, exactly, constitutes a "fuck you, have a nice life".

But in general...I feel like he'd go for subtle that isn't at all subtle.

Something like, purchasing them a bottle of wine with a "blessing" down the side that is to the effect of "May you have an eventful marriage that makes you grow in unique ways." But it's phrased in such a way that there's no doubt about what "eventful" and "growing in unique ways" is meant by it (bad! bad eventful! "he cheated on me three times with my own sister then robbed our own child's college apprenticeship savings" eventful!).

I could also see him hiring a skald for the wedding and everyone thinks this is very generous of him, except the skald sings the Rohirric equivalent of "Goodbye Earl" and "No Body, No Crime" and "Torn" all night.

So it'd be something like that OR.

OR.

You'd get a "Grima Engineered Crises".

Because Grima is a coward and he likes to work behind the scenes. So, depending how much he hates these people he might go out of his way to make sure the wedding has Problems.

On the day of, he gives them a generous gift. He is perfectly well behaved. He is only ever polite, if not outright sycophantic. Behind the scenes? He's the reason there isn't enough food because someone told the people bringing the food that the guest list was cut in half. He's the reason all the flowers are things like belladonna and nightshade. He's why the groom and brides wedding clothes are just a little off. He's the cause for the delays in the arrival of the wedding band/skald/whatever because someone told them the wrong day. He is why there's a sudden at fight between in-laws. He tells grandma Agi that her future grandson-in-law said that her dead husband was a coward on the battle field but it's done Grima-style. "Agi, you didn't hear it from me, but I just wanted you to know because I felt it was only fair that you understand what sort of man your beloved granddaughter is marrying". He's the one who makes the future spouses think they're both cheating on each other.

So he sits there, drinking all the very expensive wine, smiling as he watches chaos and misery unfold. But he bought the couple a very nice cutlery set.

Maybe they'll use it to stab each other.

----

thank you for the fun ask!! I hope this was helpful? It is hard to say what he would do without the particulars.

Also, there are many resident Grima experts on this site <3 the Grima corner of the LOTR fandom is a great one.

[goldenavenger02]

What Taylor swift album do you think each of the ninja are? I feel like Jay could be Lover. Maybe 1989 for Skylor. What do you think?

As someone who has been casually listening to Taylor since before Ninjago came out thanks to my oldest sister and became an actual Swiftie in 2017 with the release of Reputation (not being able to use that verified ticketmaster fan slip that came with my cd because Christmas was a month after it expired and my mom had no idea it was in there is my ACTUAL roman empire), I have thought about this a lot.

A couple of these ARE interchangeable (Lloyd, you are an enigma to me) but this is USUALLY what I end up falling on.

The Tortured Poet's Department: I know it's not out yet, but based on the vibes, the few lyrics we've seen, the fact that it's probably going to be in the vein of folklore and evermore and the whole message of the album (finally being free after years and years trapped and unhappy), I really think it's going to fit Misako. POSSIBLY Garmadon, but that's my prediction and I'm fully prepared to eat my words.

Midnights: This is one of my top 3 albums (it and Speak Now are constantly fighting for that number 3 spot) and because of how it encapsulates all of the eras/it being about things that she wanted to elaborate on from her past, I feel like it fits all of the characters to an extent. That being said, it feels very Wu coded to me (even if YOYOK is THE Cole song at the end of the day)

evermore/folklore: because evermore are the songs that kept coming from Taylor after folklore, I consider them very similar in tone/vibe and therefore are grouping them as one. folklore is my favorite Taylor album to date and it means so much to me as both a person and as a writer (I can only hope to write something as meaningful as My Tears Ricochet) and these albums are the Nya albums. I know that's unpopular, people tend to see her as Reputation or Speak Now and I fully understand those comparisons but these albums not only have the infamous love triangle saga between Betty and August fighting over James, as well as Mad Woman, The Last Great American Dynasty and No Body, No Crime which are some of my favorite songs about female rage but those albums are so vulnerable in a way that the others aren't.

Lover; oh Lover, the album that people see as the silly, happy, fun album but if they scratch under the surface find the deeper meaning about being scared of losing the one person that is your true love in The Archer, Afterglow and Cornelia Street. This is the first album that I managed to decide what character from Ninjago it fit and that is Jay Walker, my beloved.

Reputation: This album has the baddest bitch anthem in I Did Something Bad but this album also has some of the sweetest love songs I've ever heard in my life. It's so Skylor, everybody. You cannot tell me "I want to wear his initial on a chain around my neck/not because he owns me but because he really knows me" is not Kailor coded.

1989: this album is the Cole album, I take no notes on that one.

Red: NO, I'M NOT MAKING THAT COMPARISON. Red is NOT the Kai album, this is arguably the SADDEST album in Taylor's discography and despite his color being Red, that doesn't mean Kai fits Red! Now that I have THAT out of the way (sorry, TikTok pisses me off with that comparison), Red is the Lloyd album. Yes, it has those few happy moments (Starlight, State of Grace, Treacherous) but most of the album is CLOUDED by this heartbreak from All Too Well, Forever Winter, The Moment I Knew. And The Lucky One is so, so, so Lloyd & Arin coded.

Speak Now: *throws Harumi at you and runs away to grab Garmadon as well before sprinting out of the room to avoid getting asked questions while yelling* I can't pick, sorry!

Fearless; this album is so Kai coded, you cannot tell me otherwise. I can't tell you WHY it is that way, but it is (despite my anger about the "Kai is Red coded" meme, I am willing to switch Lloyd and Kai if someone can prove it to me.)

And finally, Taylor Swift/Debut: I will admit, I HARDLY listen to this album. I'll probably grow a deeper love/understanding for it when the rerecording comes out but as of now, it's my LEAST listened to album of hers but from the songs I do listen to (Our Song, Tied Together With a Smile and A Place In This World) It really does give me Zane vibes (although I also think it gives PIXAL vibes because those two are really parallels of each other) but, I don't listen to the full album so I'm willing to change my mind.

Anyway, this got very long but I have a lot of opinions on both Ninjago and Taylor's music so you DID kinda ask for it, anon.

[localvoidcat]

i keep on meaning to ask this but keep forgetting can we. hear more abt tmc fmr au bps (thats. a lot of letters wow) mayhaps?? :3

YES okay so

as mentioned. adam is a mortem witch, sarah is a vita witch (slightly werecat on her mother's side but not enough to transform. she's just a little beasty at times) and jonah is a witch that lost his magic after dying + becoming a vampire.

i'll talk about some different things, starting with all of their magic!

adam's ties to magic are very loose when we first meet him. similar to josh in first arc, he isn't fully into it yet, and just views his magic as an additional part of him that he uses for kicks. this changes after a...certain event that ties him closer to magic than he'd like ^_^

sarah, being the one that cursed thatcher, is pretty well versed in her magic. after mark's death, she wanted to take on the mantle of upholding what he wanted to do + his strong ties to the gods. usually cursing people is seen as a taboo in the fmr universe (most of the time, it's easily reversible, but it still became a crime in recent years due to the effect it had on the curseholder), but she isn't strongly opposed to it at all. she doesn't really uphold religious practices the way her brother did, she has more of a lax mindset when it comes to her use of it.

jonah, as i said, used to be a witch before his death. to explain this, once you die, your magic returns to the earth to feed the cycle. however, for witch-turned-vampires, when they wake up their magic's already been stripped from their body. most people have sympathy for these individuals, but a loss of magic isn't something to be taken lightly among religious witches, and he's kind of shunned from most circles for this. sarah and adam, not being too big on the whole practice, didn't really care, and he's been with them ever since.

-

uhhh sarah's . what's the cat version of lycanthropy. i'll figure that out. as i said she got that from her mother, but it didn't affect her as strongly as it did, say, her uncle. during full moons it just causes some pain + sharper teeth and nails and all that. i think mark might have been slightly more cat i think that would be fun. clouded leopard maybe

jonah, for the most part, takes the vampirism very well! his methods of taking blood range from acquiring it legally to. just straight up breaking into stuff. they don't enjoy actually attacking people though, as much as he might threaten it if in danger + as a joke. they hang upside down in the bps headquarters he's fallen asleep like that several times

adam gets his magic from his mom! probably part of the reason why he still uses it, it's one of the only things she left behind after her death. he won't admit it though

-

bps is focused on hunting ghosts! they occasionally stumble across a spirit/manifested curse or something along those lines, but they're very inexperienced in it. adam (being the only one that can use the ghost magic) is the most drawn to it, he tends to find the most fucked up things LMAO. describes the ghosts in excruciating detail

like i said, they also deal with curses on occasion. that's part of why thatcher keeps asking them for help he's so desperate. sarah won't budge despite how much everyone else tells her to fix things though and there isn't anyone else with her blood to help out (dave's really only considered a witch by blood, best he can do is a couple sparks). adam was the one that found the curse in the first place but he doesn't really feel bad about it

uhhh. what else. they're all just really silly in general they're friends. i love them. fmr bps my beloveds

[healingtheworldwithboburnham]

Ineffable Husbands x Taylor Swift (pt 5)

My favorite duo with my favorite sister albums, folklore and evermore. Pain.

exile - “And it took you five whole minutes, to pack us up and leave me with it, holding all this love out here in the hall [street]. I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending. You’re not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now? You were my town, now I’m in exile seeing you out.” [I CAN ALREADY SEE THE EDITS TO THIS ONE, SOMEONE GET TO WORK]

invisible string - [once they get their happy ending] “Hell was the journey, but it brought me heaven. Time, wondrous time, gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies. And it’s cool, baby, with me. And isn’t it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”

peace - “But I’m a fire, and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade ocean wave blues come. All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret. The devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me. Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

hoax - “My only one. My kingdom come undone. My broken drum. You have beaten my heart. Don’t want no other shade of blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do.” [you are the only one i would let hurt me vibes]

the lakes - “Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die. I don’t belong, and my beloved, neither do you. [my beloved Angel, we don’t belong in Heaven or Hell. Let’s go to the lakes] Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry. I’m setting off, but not without my muse. No, not without you.” [does it ever hurt that so many times Crowley was going to set off to Alpha Centauri but he wouldn’t go without his angel, but his angel flitted off to heaven without him? AND IK Aziraphale would never soberly do this, but Crowley thinks he did.]

champagne problems - “You had a speech, you’re speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches, and I couldn’t give a reason. Champagne [Almond Coffee?] problems.”

gold rush - cus they’re both so damn beautiful

no body, no crime - [joke because this is my headcanon abt what will happen when Crowley finds out what Metatron did (if he did do something) to Aziraphale]

coney island - “Were you waiting at our old spot [rendezvous point 3] in the tree line, by the gold clock? Did I leave you hanging every single day?

cowboy like me - “Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon. With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con. I’ve had some tricks up my sleeve. Takes one to know one, you’re a cowboy like me. And I’m never gonna love again.”

long story short - “Missing me at the golden gates they once held the keys to. When I dropped my sword, threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door. And we live in peace, but if someone comes at us, this time I’m ready. ‘Cause I fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. Long story short, it was a bad time.”

evermore - “I rewind the tape but all it does it pause, on the very moment all was lost [if gabriel and beelzebub can do it…] sending signals to be double-crossed… And I couldn’t be sure, I had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore.”

right where you left me - “Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? Break ups happen every day you don’t have to lose it. She’s still 23, inside her fantasy, and you’re sitting in front of me. At the restaurant, when I was still the one you want, cross-legged in the dim light.” [A part of both of them will never leave that moment in the bookshop until they make up]

[bunnyboyzyon]

I would love to officially ask you 1-24 on the list that you just reblogged please and thank you

uh uh tldr morbid curiosity has gotten the best of me and I am getting therapy

1- What’s your favorite color? Every green and scarlet red

2- Coffee or tea? Tea but it always needs milk and a little bit of sugar

3- If you could live anywhere and cost wasn’t an issue, where would you live? Alaska it's so far from everything else it's cold there's snow and polar night I need that in my life

4- If you were a time of day, what time of day would you be? 5 am

5- What’s your phone wallpaper?

6- What’s a song that you relate to?

7- What would you do if you found a 100 dollar bill on the sidewalk? Keep it?? I'm buying rings with that

8- Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Double ear piercings that I don't use and a nose piercing in my right nostril, current stud is a little bat

9- What song would you want to get kissed to? If someone kissed me I'd cry.. anyways

10- What song would you play at your funeral?

11- When’s the last time you cried? Like two days watching the finale of Sweet Tooth because of how inevitable it is that the people who love you will die eventually no matter how many times you save them

12- What do you want to be remembered for when you die? I want peanut to remember how much I love them, and I'd rather be forgotten by everyone else

13- If you could commit any crime without consequence, which crime would you commit? Or would you not commit any crime at all? I would say cannibalism but fun fact cannibalism is legal in most states so murder but only twice on people who hurt me

14- Would you rather know the date or cause of your death? The date so I know how much or how little time I have left to do everything I've dreamed of

15- What would you do if you found a dead body in a hotel room? The people want me to say I'd be scared but I'd start investigating the body like a new forensics case I'm gonna know how long its been dead and how it died before the police get there

16- Are we really living or are we just slowly dying? Both, depends on the person. I personally feel like I'm slowly dying but others around me seem to be living and thriving

17- Do you like the taste of blood? Yeah when you get used to it when you used to get nose bleeds everyday for a few months (my pollen allergy used to be so bad yall I got anemia from that plus periods)

18- If you had to lose a body part, which one would you choose and why? Boobs. I'm trans masc I don't need to explain this

19- Would you rather be frozen, burned, or drowned? Burn because it only takes about 30 seconds for fire to burn your nerves and keep you from feeling the pain

20- If there's hell of some sort, do you think you’re going there? Absolutely I don't think it's normal to want to know what the human body tastes like but I'd get consent n stuff there's gotta be people who donate their bodies to the science of finding out what they taste like right??? Curiousity killed the cat though so

21- How would you dispose of a body? Cannibalism bc what're they gonna do, cut me open??? Or dissolved with acid and dumped into a storm drain

22- Would you kill someone you don’t know to save someone you love? Of course if it's them vs some random person I don't know I'm picking them every single time

23- Would you rather be burned at the stake but die a saint beloved by all, or die peacefully but have nobody remember you? Peacefully and forgotten

24- Would you rather eat part of a human heart or a whole human eye? But like what if both though.. can I atleast have the whole heart??? What if the parts taste different I need to know

[lord-shitbox]

all the odd numbers

1- What’s your favorite color?

red

3- If you could live anywhere and cost wasn’t an issue, where would you live? 

i dont hink about location very much...probably a decent house in the suburbs of a city thats somewhat similar to the one i grew up near

5- What’s your phone wallpaper?

lock & home screen are both pretty looking default ones

7- What would you do if you found a 100 dollar bill on the sidewalk?

look around for anyone that could've dropped it for a while & if i cant return it to that person id take it but feel really bad about it so id probably donate it

9- What song would you want to get kissed to?

this cover of animals by maroon 5 no comment . actually wait this one's better. netflix lucifer ass music

11- When’s the last time you cried?

uhh i think like. last week when i had that super epic mental breakdown

13- If you could commit any crime without consequence, which crime would you commit? Or would you not commit any crime at all?

i would hold a group comprised of all the people that are responsible for content being region-inaccessible on streaming services at gunpoint until they fix that so everything is accessible from anywhere on the planet. i will kill as many as I need to one by one until i get my way

15- What would you do if you found a dead body in a hotel room?

very narrowly would not take a picture for art reference out of respect for the deceased. then i would go to housekeeping like umm excuuuse me. so theres this dead body in my hotel room. they can call the cops from there idgaf

17- Do you like the taste of blood?

yea my shit's iron-rich and sweet. you know you want some. but not you, the sender of this ask, because im related to you

19- Would you rather be frozen, burned, or drowned?

do i have to die either way? frozen

21- How would you dispose of a body?

go into the woods, dig a shallow grave cos that shit is Not easy, burn the body in there, bury the remains, set up a campfire on top & very badly roast some animal meat (ideally some personally-caught game that will leave noticeable carcass remnants) and then leave the burnt logs and animal remains there

23- Would you rather be burned at the stake but die a saint beloved by all, or die peacefully but have nobody remember you?

die peacefully fuck if i care what people think of me when im dead

25- What question would you ask the devil?

can i hit

[itsmiyamore]

smoothie order of amore with tsumu and suna?? :3 (alternatively, koi with tsumu, suna, AND oikawa :D)

COMING RIGHT UP KOI BELOVED

A - Activity what’s something they enjoy doing together?

Tsumu: I feel like he'd like to do skincare together :P I'm not a big skincare girly but I think he would surprisingly be very meticulous about it (unfortunately, the same treatment did not go to his hair for the longest time) and he'd be mortified at me using body wash to scrub my face 🤡 to be fair it's a dove bar so it's too bad, right?

Suna: Movie nights!!! I do this with my mom every now and then when my other sisters have gone to sleep and I think it's something Suna would also probs do :) I refuse to watch horror though and he calls me a baby but doesn't force me :)) so we watch barbie :))) or a true crime documentary 🧍‍♀️

M - Memories what is one of their favorite memories together?

Tsumu: Okok for Tsumu I think the first time I went to one of his games! Im not really big on sports, they honestly give me a lot of anxiety, so when he saw me up there in the stands it was a big moment for him. My favorite moment with Tsumu would've probably been when he asked me out, bc he was not smooth at all about it but it was cute

Suna: for both of us it would've been our first date. I personally hc us to be roommates to lovers (don't ask me why that's just how it is) so the first time we did something like, having finally confessed to each other would've been really special I think :)

O - Object what’s something they have that reminds them of the other?

Tsumu: friendship bracelets. A la Taylor Swift bc I'm a swiftie and I think it's cute so we probably made each other some with our names and we wear them everywhere (Im not usually a bracelet girly but for him I do my best to remember mostly bc he gets pouty when I forget)

Suna: dare I say our engagement rings. That's all next question 🤡

R - Routine what’s something they do together like clockwork?

Tsumu: HAIR SALON VISITS!!!! He goes every so often to get his roots done and I tag along bc I love dying my hair all sorts of colors (it's not cheap but he got that division 1 paycheck 😘🤪)

Suna: bedtime routine. We brush our teeth together for sure :') I'm a nighttime showers girly and he showers after practice so after I'm done we maybe watch something before brushing our teeth and heading to bed. Or if we're feeling lazy just skip to brushing teeth and bed

E - Encourage how do they encourage each other?

Tsumu: He'd probably like pick me up and spin me in a circle ("you lift my feet off the ground, you spin me around") and hype me up. He's also call me his girl at some point because I said so.

Suna: He'd probably do it at night (not like that get your mind out of the gutter) when we're cuddling in bed. Gives me a forehead kiss and pulls me in closer and tells me I'll do great at whatever it is :')

Me: Probably give him a lot of kisses!!! Tell him he's got this n probably indulge him with food n stuff

Self shipping alphabet

[hazel-core]

attacking you based off of your favourite evermore song <3

willow

how does it feel to be the therapist friend? how does it feel to want to reach out but none of ur friends know ur in the lowest moment of your life? stop acting like you only need yourself!!!

champagne problems

stop projecting ur emotions to things that will NEVER help you. listening to music isn't gonna make you forget all ur problems, eating or sleeping is not a good replacement for ACTUALLY letting all the anger and tears out. the repression is honestly just sad now. i hope you get better soon.

gold rush

the moment someone shows you a hint of care and affection, you get attached. then the moment they walk out of your life, you think it was your fault.

NEWS FLASH! it was NOT ur fault. u just hate to think about them in a bad way because ur so blinded by love.

'tis the damn season

you hold grudges. you don't make it obvious, but you do. you make sure that the amount of attention they give you is the same amount of attention you give to them. you try so hard to balance everything it just ends up hurting you.

happiness

you literally trust NO ONE. you've been betrayed and hurt too many times. when you do find someone who makes you happy, who gives you every idea that they will never do anything to hurt you, you run away, because you think when you get too close, they'll break ur trust (how can something so frail ever be whole).

no body, no crime

how's it feel to be touch deprived? you so badly want someone to hug you but even just a poke on the arm scares you. you hate touch but the idea of it brings you comfort.

dorothea

you so badly want reinvention. you wish to become someone else, someone who you're not. you wish for everyone to just forget you and you could live the life you so desperately want. you want a new identity and just run away and forget everything in the past. it really is cold tonight, and all your friends really are 3 years away.

closure

you're a damn spy. you're always checking in on people even if they're not in your life anymore. you always want to see if they're doing well, and that upsets you if they are. it upsets you that they're happy without you. because you're miserable without them.

cowboy like me

no one truly knows you. your family thinks of you differently, your friends don't know ur deep secrets. ur secretive. you don't like telling people things about you, because you feel like there's always ill intention behind it. that may be a good way not to hurt. but it's a hard way to live bestie.

coney island

you hate social interaction and you hate meeting new people. but you have no trouble doing that online. that's why you're so stuck on the internet because the people you meet through the internet makes you so much happier than the people around you physically.

long story short

you rush to do things, time bothers you, and you always wish you could do so much more. you feel like there should be no limit. you overwork yourself, you want to reach your goal quickly, you feel like anything could happen, so u focus on getting things done. a serial procrastinator my beloved.

ivy

every time you were so close to finding love, it didn't work out. that's why you believe you'll never find it, because at every opportunity it never worked. you want to love someone so bad, but you haven't - couldn't - found the person who deserves you.

marjorie

people tend to take advantage of you. it's hard for you to say no to people. you please people, intentionally or unintentionally, you find it difficult to get rid of toxic people, so you wait and wait for the world to do it for you.

evermore

it's not healthy to constantly run away from your problems. look hey, maybe it gets better, maybe it doesn't. but you have got to stop PRETENDING that it has nothing to with you. you are NOT the product of all the things that have happened to you. you are you. whatever you want that to be. just stop running. please.

it's time to go

you've been gaslighted in a friendship or a relationship. it's hard for you to never feel guilty for things even if it has nothing to do with you. you sometimes unintentionally guilt trip others, and the moment you realize, you drown in guilt yourself, guiltfest. I wish I could tell you it gets better. perhaps.

right where you left me

you're still so stuck in the same damn time. you've perceived life to be still in the time where u were happy. you don't want to move on. you don't let go of the past as it's keeping you back. u hold on to it because it's the only thing that makes u happy. you can cling onto the past as much as you like my love, but that familiarity gets old (ironically). remember that no matter how tightly you hold on, it's already gone <3

[beautifulsnake2162020]

Higher Intervention: Aemond x FemReader (House of the Dragon x Sandman fanfic) Part 7

Disclaimer: This is a fanwork to show appreciation for the intellectual properties used. I also haven’t read Fire and Blood and most if not all that I know is from the TV show.

Gif by jjangredpanda

Premise: Alys Velaryon, older twin sister of Jace Velaryon is the only member among Rhaenyra’s children whom Aemond cannot completely hate. As their love story progresses, a newer and larger threat complicates things and reveals discoveries that neither the greens or the blacks had ever imagined.

If you wish to read the previous parts (which I recommend you do if you haven’t read them yet):

Part 1 / Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5 / Part 6

Taglist (comment down below if you want to be included): @winxschester @memento-mora @mxrgodsstuff

Also tagging:

@lady-phasma @aemonds-war-crime @adderess @princeaemonds because some of their ideas of Aemond have undoubtedly influenced my work.

Darkness.

Nothingness.

You forgot how suffocating it could be.

But somehow you find yourself being one with it.

How odd that you still have your thoughts even though you have died.

You feel light amidst this dark nothingness.

You feel so light that you just feel that you need to move.

Somehow some way you feel that the more you move - though you did not have a form - the more a spark inside of you was made.

Eventually that spark lead to a fire coming from inside you.

Heat

Energy

Yes

Energy

You feel the energy spread out from you the more you move.

Soon because of your movements, what once was simply darkness and nothingness now served to show the different spots and streaks of energy you've left behind. Soon you feel tired from playing around in the vast darkness. A darkness that has been balanced by the little splots of energy that you've made.

In your stillness you gaze out as you see what you've done. It looked like what the stars, planets, and other heavenly bodies appear. You were astonished by their beauty. They filled and balanced the vast darkness. It wasn't that the darkness was bad, but it can be overwhelming. Still you can't believe such beauty emerged from your random movements.

As you continue to be still and gaze in wonder at what you've unintentionally created, you begin to feel another change from some of the energies you've left behind. It was still energy, but there was something special about it. Not only did it seem to have more energy or more movement...it seemed to be calling for you.

You move toward it as you feel yourself reaching out to the special energy. So eager, so scared...so full of life...so complex...and yet so simple...

You feel yourself become one with this special type of energy. It was taking over your entire being. As you feel yourself becoming more powerful, you also feel the Universe supporting you, and giving you form. And yet it is not fixed but also yours to wield with the help of your newfound powers. Soon it was finished and you somehow find your way into the meadow.

The meadow in the realm of the Sandman.

And soon you see him and his wife - both looking at you with joy and delight.

"See beloved, she has now come into her power."

"You know me Morpheus, I couldn't help it."

You feel yourself running towards them and ending up embracing both as they hug you back.

"Congratulations my darling."

"Is...is this real?"

"It is very real." She says as she pulls you for another tight embrace. It was when she releases you that you noticed your hands - or rather your entire being - is glowing.

"It feels different, doesn't it?" The Sandman says. So his wife calls him Morpheus. Something inside you says it was a preferred nickname. If your encounter with the Seven and the Sandman has taught you anything, it's that divine beings can have many names.

"Is this how you and everyone else feels? Fueled by energy and - and life force?" He chuckles softly at you.

"Similar, but not identical to yours. It seems you have found your domain."

"My domain?"

"Yes, my darling." His wife says in excitement. But she calms herself down as she puts her hands on your shoulders.

"Be still for a moment. Close your eyes, remember what was it that called you. This is how you will know your name."

"My name? But I am -"

"My darling, we will always know you by that. But that part of you...she is already dead, even though you are one and the same." You nod, of course she was right. The only way you were able to be who you are now was if you first had died in your human life.

You become still.

You close your eyes.

You remember the energy.

Then the special energy that calls you.

So vibrant, so complex, so simple...

so alive.

Alive.

What a concept it is to live.

Even if it may not always be what you want it to be.

You feel yourself open your eyes.

At first you were confused as to why your surroundings have changed.

Where did Morpheus and his wife go?

You wanted to go back to their warm and comforting embrace. You felt safe there. Safe to be yourself and who you are.

"You're still upset with me."

You turn to a glowing ethereal feathered serpent. Fiery reddish orange all over.

This was you.

That was your voice.

You recognize it somehow.

This was a memory.

What you experienced before - that was also a memory too. You're sure now because you in your glowing feathered snake form was confident and at home with her powers and her being.

"I disagree with your punishment, but I also understand where you are coming from."

You turn to see another ethereal feathered serpent. This time green or rather it was a beautiful blend of "Kastra" colors that blended his body and his feathers.

"Quetzalcoatl, my love, it seems you do not truly understand what it is to be human."

"Of course I do. Among all my family and peers I seem to be alone in loving humans." He slithers and intwines himself to you in a way that was similar to human cuddling.

"Your one day of being human does not count. You would have had more ground for your argument if you didn't commit suicide soon after realizing what you and your sister, Quetzalpetlatl, had done."

"I was filled with grief and remorse."

"It was a mistake, yes, but neither of you were in your right mind. That's what happens when people indulge in too much pulque. Plenty of errors have been committed by people who have indulged too much, but suicide is not the first thing people do after realizing their mistakes while inebriated."

"What are you trying to say?"

You see yourself slither out of his form as you turn to face him.

"Spend more time among them. I don't mind you disagreeing with my decision to give the man gradually more energy until he finds himself to be always restless, but you need to stop thinking that humans are simply at the mercy of anything their environment throws at them. There's more nuance than that. That man had broken my laws by trying to put Divine life force on things that were long dead and have already become one with the environment in many ways."

"You didn't care that he stole the Divine life force from us?"

"I do, but that part is under your jurisdiction. I'm not about to usurp that."

He thinks for awhile before giving you a nod.

"Would you mind accompanying me?"

"Of course, who else is going to be your guide? A lot has changed, and I like to believe that I am young enough to make sure you don't get lost in the changes that were made so far."

You see yourself allow him to once again intwine himself around you. The two of you were cuddling once again but this time with more certainty.

"Then let us be human together."

Strong winds suddenly surrounded you and made you dizzy.

Once it all stopped you were in a different environment.

A different memory.

This time you were once again re-enacting it in the body of your past self.

It was the sunset, as shown in the window.

You and Robert were simply laying with each other watching it descend.

This was to be his last sunset.

It was beautiful; it was bittersweet; it was the course of life.

"I want to tell you that you could still change your mind. But knowing you, you wouldn't like it."

He kisses your forehead as you snuggle closer to him.

"Even if I didn't volunteer for it I don't have much time left. I've seen others of my kind and species spend their last days not being themselves. I would rather die with my full self intact and not a destructive shadow of who I once was." True, a vampire no longer in their prime and slowly descending into death was more destructive for everyone involved. Or at least that was the case with lesser vampires, vampires who were born human before becoming a vampire. Greater vampires in the same species were those who were born as vampires.

But even they would expire once they've outlived all of the humans.

"I am thankful for our marriage. I was worried that you would reject me - after all I was just a fan of your performances."

"Oh come now, you were there because you managed to get a free ticket, then you promised to compose for the company owner for a chance to meet me."

"Very well - a very well connected fan." You both laugh at this for awhile before you both get up as the sun descends.

It was time.

But still just a little bit more.

"Thank you - thank you Robert." You press your forehead against his,

"Thank you, Jessamy."

Jessamy? That was your name?

Jessamy Rizmon

So familiar yet unfamiliar.

It's been awhile since you've heard that name. Or hear anyone refer to you as that name...For a long while you've known yourself as Alys Velaryon...

...and something else.

V...

Vi...

"Thank you Robert, for being my first love."

"Thank you for being my last." You two share one last kiss, before you head out.

He was among the vampires who has volunteered to drink the nuclear waste. Once all of it was cleaned out, they would be staked and burned to avoid further contamination.

You'd rather not watch him die, as far as you know these were going to be your last few moments together.

Suddenly you find yourself on front of the fireplace.

The fireplace in your dream bedroom.

It feels like you've been staring intently at the flames for awhile now.

You make a few slow movements to relieve your body.

It didn't feel like a memory this time. You stand to stretch yourself even more - yes, no longer a memory that you were immersed in. You were back in your present.

Which means you were still very much alive and the Stranger for some reason didn't take you.

"She thought that I was the Stranger - she thought that she was going to die."

"Aemond if you don't move aside then the Stranger will come to take her sooner than we want."

Aemond? Helaena? You were pretty sure you didn't intentionally think to hear them say that. Wasn't this supposed to be your dream?

"She's getting colder - her pulse is still there but it seems to be slowing down your grace."

"Aemond, please step aside - the Holy women and her friends have arrived."

"And how are they going to help? We already have all the maesters here and they've been working relentlessly for the past 2 days - what difference does it make?"

"Step aside nephew. I only let you carry her because I know you don't have the balls to kill any of her fucking abusers -"

"You have no idea what I would do -"

"She's still my daughter. I would rather have the Holy women treat her than any of these fucking maesters."

"YOU TWO! Please we don't have time. I'll be damned if my granddaughter dies before me. That's another death that I cannot take. The more we squabble like this the closer she is to death! Aemond, my boy I know you also care for her, let them help. The maesters have done everything they can."

"Am I doing this?"

"No." You hear the Sandman - Morpheus, say from behind you.

"You are in another coma, and your body is working hard to keep you alive."

"I...I thought I had died already. And the Stranger was supposed to deliver me for judgment."

"Fortunately you were just heavily exhausted. What made you believe that you have died?"

You and he go and sit at the couch.

And you do your best to describe what you experienced. Or rather what you've already experienced and how powerful, connected, and near omnipresent you felt. Like you could suddenly feel and connect with any energy - particularly special life force energy - in the universe. But it was also almost overwhelming that you were glad that you currently didn't feel such sensation.

"And then you and your wife was waiting for me in the meadow nearby the castle. We embraced - and I noticed that my entire being was glowing. Oh and also she called you 'Morpheus'"

"One of my many names. It's her favorite name of mine."

"Don't worry Prince Aemond, we'll take care of her - acolyte! Get into position. You'll be guiding the fire to me."

"Yes Priestess Kara!"

"Ser Ion, Ser Arari, they may watch but only the two of you may assist us. I repeat to all of you, do not interfere if you want her to live. Are we clear your grace?"

"Yes...yes Prophet Agnes."

"One last thing - make sure not to touch her from this point on. You may look, you may even feed fuel to the fires, but do not touch her. Not only will you risk the healing process, but you will also be burned. Even if we are certain of our abilities the outcome is still uncertain and every care must be taken."

"We...we understand mystic Reyna. Please - please save my daughter."

Your heart breaks as you hear your mother plead.

"I'm not surprised that even they are involved in this." The Sandman says as he seems to have a revelation - a familiar revelation - when he hears the voices of the Holy women.

"You know them?"

"In a way."

"What do you mean?"

"I know of them, I know when to go to them, but I remain cautious of them." How ominous.

"Then why are they helping me? If they have an ulterior motive then why?"

"Don't pretend you also don't have one in wanting the succession dispute to be over. Without that threat you could be free to travel around and explore to your heart's delight without fearing of being in exile." His point was made even more poignant as he looked into your eyes.

"Besides, their ulterior motive is to comply with the design of destiny."

"Destiny?"

"Yes. Think of them as the ambassadors of Destiny's design."

"I refuse to believe that everything is pre-determined for me."

"Think of Destiny's design as a map marked with the locations you are going to visit. How you get there is up to you. Sometimes those three could play around with it - make the journey quicker, slower, mundane, exciting, or anything in between. But it is still up to you and how you respond to get to such destination. Even though you may not always be aware of where you are headed."

You suddenly feel a warmth spreading throughout you.

Feeding you.

Cleansing you.

Healing you.

"My advice to you is to make sure that you don't actively make them angry or upset with you. I have first hand experience of the consequences and I would rather you avoid it. You have their favor so far since they are now active players in your journey as the three Holy women. But do note that just like them and just like yourself there are others now involved."

"Others?"

"Other beings like yourself, like the Holy women, and like the Seven."

He must mean others with some amount of power, divine power. From what you've gathered from your memories it seems that before you were born as Alys Velaryon, you were a divine being.

After all how else can you explain how you bonded with the energy and the universe? What would normally kill a mortal or any other living thing instead feeds you and calls to you. Even the special life force energy itself has different aspects of it - roughly speaking a mortal aspect and the divine aspect.

Divine life force.

"How? How is it not cremating her?"

"Come here, Prince Lucerys - yes right here by my side - this is a safe distance to observe. As you've seen earlier we have prayed and placed a healing spell on her. Now do you see what the fires are doing?"

That was the Mystic Reyna speaking. You imagine she guides Luce to the answer he is looking for.

"It's ...it's dancing on her skin?"

"Yes, my prince. Do you notice how it's gently going inside her scars?"

"Yes."

"The flames - these sacred flames blessed by the Red God - they both feed her and cleanse her. We will know when it's finished because the flames will become the common color red."

"Oh?"

"I'll take it from here Mystic Reyna. Prince Lucerys is not the only one confused. Now that all we need to do is feed the sacred fires surrounding her as it treats and heals her we now have time to explain."

"Very well Priestess."

"From the look on yours and everyone else's faces, you were all confused why we made the flames violet before guiding it all over her body, yes?"

"Well yes - I thought it was just because it's the main color she currently wears."

You hear the priestess giggle a little before responding again.

"Actually Prince Lucerys, there are many colors of fires that exist. The common red or reddish yellow flames are actually the coolest temperature for fires. This violet flames on the various couldrons and portable fire pits surrounding her are the hottest temperature for fires that exist. And because it's hotter than any common fire you're more likely to get worse burns than when the fire is the common red. The hotter the temperature of the flames, the more energy it has, and the cooler the temperature, it has less."

"That's .. really interesting priestess."

"Thank you Princess Rhaena, now the healing prayer and the healing spell guide the fire to heal her. Since she's in one of the worse cases I've seen anyone in and she was close to dying, we needed to use the violet flames to intensely heal her. Of course it's still on a case to case basis, but since we were losing her quite quickly we decided to use the most certain tool we have. As her body gradually heals and gets better, the temperature of the fires will begin to cool because it will not need as much energy to help her. The color of the flames will indicate this. From violet it will turn white. From white it will turn blue, then green, yellow, orange, and then the common red. Hope and pray that the fires turn red. We will all be personally watching over the flames since this is a very special case. I'll be taking the first vigil for tonight as the one who lead the healing work. Acolyte you shall stay here with me to make sure the fire sources have fuel."

"Of course priestess."

"Can some of us stay with you Priestess."

"Princess Baela, if you stay with me then you shall obey whatever it is that I tell you."

"I will."

"Baela you need to sleep."

"Jace I can rest later, I wasn't allowed to join the rescue, please let me help her this way."

That explains why you're now feeling more warmth, and nourished. Nourishment from energy.

Energy.

Wait.

"Something's happening!"

"It's another memory."

"But-but"

"You'll be fine. Just call me."

And with that you were brought into another memory. You hope it's one of the good ones.

You find yourself in a banquet. Or rather it appears to be a banquet but really it's a private gathering that you were invited to.

"Right this way my lady, the both of them had been expecting you." A handmaiden guides you as you both travel to a private place. An indoor garden filled with cool ventilation and the comforts afforded from having it indoors. The food was plentiful and the fountain - the fountains, you mentally corrected yourself - was filled with drinks. The main fountain at the center was filled with drinkable water while the other two were filled with wine and milk.

Up ahead were two figures being...well.

"It seems you two have forgotten that I was invited?" The two women break their kiss and intimate embrace. One of them you remember was the one you called "Mera" and had the classic Valyrian features of having silvery white hair and violet eyes. The other woman had golden hair, but still blonde. She didn't have the violet eyes but her skin was practically gold made flesh. Even some of the battle scars that you could see were made more alluring and attractive. You weren't surprised that this could be the case for her, what mortals deemed ugly or horrific she made it look alluring.

"You know you could join us, Glaesēt mōrqitta." The golden lady said smiling unabashedly not bothering to fix her dress that revealed her left breast that Mera was in the process of removing. Mera, while not embarassed at being caught unaware fixed it for her.

"She's right Glaesēt, what can we do to convince you?"

"Hmm maybe ask me another time when I need it. I know you both are just teasing me."

"It's not a tease Glaesēt, Meraxes and I are both quite fond of you."

"Vhagar you are the God of war and sex, surely you must already sense that Quetzalcoatl has already satisfied me." At this the golden lady - Vhagar laughs and pats on the spot beside her.

"Quite true Glaesēt. Mera, next time we should ask before her flying serpent visits her."

"You should be informing me when she's alone and frustrated raqiarzy."

"Out of curiosity you two - how does the God of the Heavens feel about this? Isn't he also a war deity?"

"We overlap. He was mainly worshipped when wars were still more akin to raids. But because there is no way to distinguish the two he is still considered a war deity. I govern war in it's ugliness, it's raw power, the desire to fight for the people you love and the violence it entails - that is what I govern. It's also why it's actually complementary to my other domains of love, sex, fertility, and justice."

"And political power."

"We overlap there ñuhe jorrāeliarza, but you are better at it than I am. It's why I argued and fought for you to be our Queen."

"Don't underestimate yourself raqiarzy, why do you think I made sure you were my head guard in times of peace?"

"Are you two sure you still want me here? Shouldn't you be enjoying officially being married to each other and being each other's consorts?" You tease as you drank a large cup of divine milk. It wasn't long ago when the God of the Heavens himself practically made various events happen just so these two would finally admit their feelings for each other. From how you understood their system, he and Meraxes were rulers because they were believed to be the best deities for the job. They were attracted enough to each other to marry and occasionally lay with each other, but it was a job more than anything else. Since polygamy was allowed both ways with some parameters, it wasn't really an issue when either side also married other people.

"Issa Glaesēt, it's about my son, Balerion it seems he needs your help."

"My help? In what? Enough people are currently thinking and believing in him. He's still a minor God but nevertheless -"

"He has problems with his powers. We know that it might have something to do with energy but we don't know which kind. We were thinking maybe you could help him with that?" Ah, you see now.

"Sure, where is he?"

"Probably in the library. But he'll be so intent with his studies with an impatience of almost speeding through with what he reads that I'm not quite sure he really absorbed what he has read. I'll introduce the two of you later at dinner. For now let's catch up. Tell Vhagar and I more about this um what do you call 'home dimension'?"

The memory ends but you recall it was indeed one of the good memories you've had. And how it was now one of the most precious few that you now hold dear.

Something happened.

Something related to the Doom of Valyria.

You couldn't put a finger on it but it felt like a mystery you needed to solve.

Because somehow you were responsible for it. You don't know how but your instincts were telling you this.

As you return to the present, now lying in a comfortable outdoor bed which had the frame of a swing, you wonder how Aemond would react if he found out that his dragon was named after a God of war, sex, fertility, love and who was also the wife, head guard and main consort of Meraxes the Queen of the Valyrian Pantheon. He would probably raise his eyebrow, think you were making it up and would need some sort of evidence to prove it.

It was fine, you enjoyed this part being yours alone for now.

"Alys."

Oh

It's him.

"I don't know if you can hear me. But here I am, holding a vigil for you as the sacred fire continues to heal you. The Prophet Agnes is watching me. Even though I am whispering, I still feel she could hear every word I say."

You wonder what time it was in the waking world. You know how time works differently in dreams. Right now the sun was up but the rays didn't burn your skin since you were under a canopy as you relaxed in this swinging bed. A respite from the influx of memories you've had.

"Where do I begin? I must admit for awhile I hated you for what you've done. How dare you suffer for the sins of your brothers? How dare you claim to be the one who encouraged me to claim Vhagar as my own? How dare you say that you are the cause of our quarrels?! Nobody, not our family, the nobles, the smallfolk, or anyone else - nobody believed that you have committed those sins. Tell me Alys, did you know how much your screams and cries gave me more sleepless nights more than I can remember? How for awhile it didn't seem to matter whether it was just a nightmare or remembering how much they whipped you and how your back was bleeding heavily in several streams? Did you know how much I wanted to kill the lead septon when he refused to let you go? Did you know that I began to thirst for the day when I would make them regret all the suffering they have inflicted on you?"

He pauses to gather himself. You begin to hear not only pain in his voice, but brokeness, helplessness, and powerlessness.

"Did you know how much pain you have caused our family? You must have, how else...why else would you have made yourself to be the villain? The most innocent person in this family who wanted to resolve this crisis...Hah- You..."

He's struggling.

This isn't like him.

If anyone was struggling it should be you.

He's the one who was always composed, always witty, always ready.

You hear him sigh before he continues.

"You...have done what I couldn't do. You have done what I thought was impossible...You forced this family, from the King to your second brother, you have forced us to be honest with each other. To finally treat the wounds I thought would just stay there. All of us, from both sides went to the High Septon, and together with another Septon they mediated us. I don't know who this other Septon is, but he was really good in seeing what was hurting all of us."

He sighs as he takes time to gather himself once again.

"It took awhile - it took too long. It wasn't perfect but it was a start. It was painful, it was hard, but hearing your screams and seeing you carry the metal post of the seven pointed star without anyone to help you...remembering how fast the Septa placed that thorn choker around your neck that caused your first cry of pain...For the first time in a long time I felt like powerless. I never felt this way since I claimed Vhagar as my own."

It breaks your heart to hear his voice breaking. But a part of you knew this was necessary in order for him to truly heal.

"Did you know that growing up I also envied you?"

Oh? This was new.

"I was jealous at how content you were - even if your dragon egg also didn't hatch just like mine. I was numb, I felt like I was simply a body moving in the world meant to be forgotten, when you were alive, daring,bold. While I hid and buried myself desperately in my studies to be better than everyone, you buried yourself with me because you had a thirst to know more. I had always saw them as tools, you had always saw them as another star shining a light in the darkness of the world...And I always wondered why I couldn't simply be content like you? Do you know how many nights I wished that it was I who would bring color to your world just like how you did with mine? Hah...but then again your world was already quite colorful. Growing up I thought that you chose to ignore the dark realities. How you focused so much on the importance of dreams, the ideal world, even when it was so out of reach...It's now that I realized that you didn't ignore them - no, you chose to use them to make the world better. To make the impossible happen."

You wish you could reach out to him. But you know you couldn't. He cannot depend on you what is his alone to heal. You could help, offer some sort of comfort, but true healing must come from him.

You couldn't believe you were starting to sound similar to everyone around you. Maybe there was some truth about how interfering would only hinder the growth of a person.

"Prince Aemond, the mystic Reyna has arrived. I suggest you go to bed and rest."

"I think I prefer to stay here."

"And do you think she would want that? To have you deprive yourself of rest when she has sacrificed so much just for the in fighting to stop?"

A moment of silence passed.

"There is still so much that I need to tell her."

"That can wait till you have rested. She'll still be here. And look, the flames are now changing color into white. The violet color is now only at the very edges but the core of it is undoubtedly white. She's healing."

"How long?"

"Hm?"

"How long will it take before the flames turn red?"

"Even I don't know that answer your Highness. It had taken nearly a week from when we started to see this progress on the flames. Even fires when they are healing can be unpredictable."

You sit up from your swinging bed as you think over his words. A part of you feels embarassed at not believing that it was actually him. You begin to ask yourself why he went along with it and allowed himself to be your last confessor? Maybe it was out of pity - you were clearly high on whatever drugs they gave you. It was difficult discerning what was real, what was your own imagination, and what was vivid hallucinations.

Perhaps...perhaps it was meant to be this way. Had you known it was really him you're not sure if you could so easily make that last confession. Maybe through his questions it was also his chance to know why you allowed yourself to go through all this pain and suffering.

You have hope that from the bits and pieces you've heard, the High Septon and his companion septon managed to mediate and at least start healing the wounds that have gone too long untreated. Too long have they only made any pain worse and risk putting the realm through turmoil. This was the key. This is what you and the White Worm were hoping would happen. There was hope in your heart that the risk of your suffering was finally paying off. Had they rescued you without the High Septon's approval, it would make things even worse. Like what the lead septon of the Faith Militant said, this was not a matter of politics but a matter of faith. To kill off or to even attack the Faith Militant without some sort of approval or decree from the High Septon releasing you from further 'purification' would be religious persecution of one of the biggest religious groups in the realm. And that kind of attack - even if it was on the more radical branch of the religion and not the main religious branch in itself - would turn plenty of the small folk and some within the nobility and gentry to turn against the crown. Since there was still a succession crisis and no firmly resolved solution yet, this is the last thing either side would want.

You hear footsteps running toward you with huffing and puffing. And before you know it Gregory was now beside you on the swinging bed.

"Borf"

"I missed you too little boy."

He lies down beside you as you turn to your side as you begin petting his fluffy back.

"Hungry?" The Sandman's wife asks as she settles herself on the nearby table with a picnic basket.

"A little bit."

She nods as she begins taking out food from the picnic basket.

"Do you remember what this is?" She shows you a plate filled with colorful circular things. One of them has what looks like a fried shrimp tail peeking out.

"Wait..." You close your eyes as you now actively search or call your memory of that food from your mysterious consciousness.

A brief scene appears in your mind. It was a long break and you, the Sandman, his wife, and four other people - two women and two men - were in a restaurant. The food was on the expensive side but because it was so good and well made it was understandable why. Instead of knives and spoons you were instead given two metal sticks which was narrowed down on one side. The server places these same exact food right on front of you and you remember thinking how it wouldn't take long for you to finish them.

"...I think it's Ebi Tempura rolls? Sushi?"

"Yes! That's right. I'm actually surprised you know remember their specific name. I would have accepted 'sushi' as an answer."

"Is it another one of my favorites?"

"Yes, sometimes we would tease how that's when we know how hungry you are. If you were really hungry you could finish two batches of these - and one batch has eight rolls."

"Woof"

"No Gregory you may not have these, this is for Alys."

"Woof woof."

"I can't recall the name of the stick utensils - I know it starts with a 'C'."

"Do you remember how to use them?" She asks after making dogfood appear as she places it on the ground for Gregory.

"Mm let me try holding it." She gives you a pair and as you touch it a memory appears.

"No, Renée you hold the chopsticks like this." You say as you teach a boy, one of the boys that have also appeared in the restaurant memory, how to use them. This time however he was a lot younger and was undoubtedly a little boy.

"First stick is held in the space between the thumb and the pointer finger and then you use your ring finger. The second stick is held like a pencil."

"Can't I just use a fork?"

"We're going into a Japanese restaurant there are no forks there."

"I bet they do!"

"They don't"

"Nuh - uh -"

"Children."

The memory ends with the voice of the Sandman's wife with a warning tone.

"Chopsticks? Am I right?" She smiles at you as she hands you a plate of the Ebi tempura sushi.

"You are, at this rate I have faith that you'll remember who you are sooner than you think."

"I don't know about that. I'm still trying to understand my memories. I know enough that I must be a supernatural being myself. Being close friends with Queen Meraxes and her wife Vhagar the God of war and sex among other passions was what enlightened me in this. I assume my former lover Quetzalcoatl is also a divine being. I've seen how he slithers and embraces me in my serpent form. If I am able to have a form like that and feel how malleable I must be, I now wonder if this is the source of my powers? The powers that have made me more cautious about who I reveal secrets to. The same powers that have been a nuisance for awhile because for most of my life as a young lady I did not know how to control them and yet they came to me so suddenly."

She gives you a soft yet approving smile as she picks up one of the sushi slices - Salmon sashimi, your memory says - before eating it up with her own chopsticks.

"You have now answered one of your own questions. And finally I can give you some clarification." You give her a pointed look.

"I was right?"

"Mostly. You are right - your powers involving control over various different energy sources are indeed from your being. They came to you as your mortal body - or more accurately your mortal shell - changed into maturity. However this is only a small fraction of your power."

"Huh? Why?"

"Simple, there is only so much a mortal body can take. This is by the design of the Universe for anything alive. There is a balance that must be maintained in order for life to continue to thrive. It is when this balance is no longer feasible that it ends. The powers you have now at your disposal are within the parameters that will not immediately kill your mortal body."

"So...what you're saying is that for me to go back to the being I once was...for me to gain access to all of my powers...I must die?"

"It is not a 'must' but 'when' . While you are indeed slowly realizing and remembering who you are, this is not your goal. Otherwise what would be the point in having you reborn temporarily as a mortal?"

She had a point. Why would you - a being who is already an immortal - be bothered to be reborn as a mortal if it's simply to know more about yourself? If that was the case then why bother being and living as a mortal at all? There must be something else.

"May I ask...how do you know all this? I'm starting to realize that the Sandman's domain and powers involve dreams since this is how you two talk to me and how you let other supernatural beings talk to me. Is your domain balance? The balance of the Universe." She chuckled lightly at you but it wasn't mocking.

"In a way yes, I'm waiting for a little bit more memories for you to remember but you are on the right path. Once you remember who I am to you, it will become very obvious. I have a theory that once you either remember your name or our relationship then everything will become a lot more faster." You think back to your memory with Meraxes and Vhagar.

They called you "Glaesēt mōrqitta" in High Valyrian.

Endless life force.

"I recently remembered a memory involving myself, Queen Meraxes, and Vhagar her wife and a God of war and passions. They called me 'Glaesēt mōrqitta'. Is that my name? Or is that a translation of my name?"

"Yes it is. Like the Sandman and the Seven you have many names. Glaesēt mōrqitta is one of the more literal translations of your name. That's only the clue I'm giving you."

You nod at her. At least you were now closer than you've ever been previously finding out about yourself.

"Another question...I have this feeling from myself that I might be responsible for the Doom of Valyria. Both times when I have a memory of interacting with the Valyrian deities there is a bittersweetness to them. Inside me I feel guilt and remorse that they are no more and that it was my fault that they perished along with Old Valyria... Am I overthinking it or was there a hint of truth?"

At this her face becomes unreadable but sympathetic.

"In a way, yes you are."

Oh no.

"However, it is still debatable."

"What do you mean debatable?"

"Based from what you have remembered so far, all I can say for now is that you are only one part of it. If anything it shows that in some ways it was inevitable that Old Valyria would fall. Much like a dragon, it died because it didn't know when to stop growing. Until it grew too much that it can no longer hold everything together."

You were about to ask her for a clue when once again you hear voices near your body.

"Good morning, Alys. It's been awhile and you are still laying there slowly being healed. I miss you so much, I wish you would tell me bed time stories again like how you used to do sometimes in Dragonstone."

You wish you could wake up and wrap your arms around Joffrey. Do something to make him laugh. But you were still too weak to even open your eyes just a little bit. You don't need to see him to know that he was tearing up. It was all in his voice.

"I don't know if you know this but your fires are now blue. I think its been five weeks that it remained being white. It was only yesterday when members of the Faith of the Seven would have their weekly gatherings that it finally became blue. Everyone was worried for awhile because the flames only remained white and it seemed like nothing was changing. I'll be honest, I only came to ask if I could meet you in my dreams. I miss playing with you and having you all to myself since I'm not old enough to join our brothers in actually sparring. I'll understand if you're too busy healing yourself - I don't want you to die. I just feel so lonely now more than ever. Everyone is preparing for some fancy counsel - I don't really understand what's going on. They keep saying something about the people's representatives - it's strange grown up things that just puts me to sleep."

"Prince Joffrey, it's time for your morning meal!"

"Thank you Priestess! I'll be there soon. Goodbye Alys I hope you get better soon. I love you so much! OH and your three admirers, Sers Ion, Arari, and Kormy have also been guarding you alongside the Holy Women. So you'll never be lonely like me. Bye for now."

Oh Joffrey.

"It's been 5 weeks already?"

"Time moves differently here in dreams."

"Do you...do you think I could meet him? In his dreams? I also miss him too."

"I think that may be reasonable. We'll have to ask my husband first."

"Um - isn't he here? Couldn't we just call or summon him?" She stands up as she waves her hand and all the now empty cups, plates and utensils disappear.

"Right now he's in his sibling's domain. One of the nicer siblings might I add. At first she may seem eccentric but she means well. This is why neither of us could call or summon him at the moment. He did promise to break bread with her and visit her more often."

"Oh."

"But as his wife and consort I believe it is within my power to help you meet your little brother in his dreams. We just need to check with Lucienne first to make sure it also doesn't hinder your own growth. Come let's go to the library."

"Awo?"

"Haha yes, you too Gregory. Come along."

Aside from your bedroom, the library must be your favorite place in the castle. According to Lucienne the librarian and the Sandman's right hand who takes over running the affairs of the dreaming together with his wife when he is away, every book in existence and every book that has yet to be written is stored within the library.

"Do you think it's too late? Is it dark already by now?"

"Calm down Alys. Your brother Joffrey is not dreaming tonight but simply sleeping." Lucienne says as she checks Joffrey's book from the vast library. Each person has a book about them written and it features everything that has happened so far. But since this felt wrong to peak into simply anyone you know, you sit across Lucienne and the lady as they read it and check other books to confirm what they've read.

"Everything appears to be fine. If Morpheus isn't back before Joffrey has his next dream then I'll personally send you to him. Or would you prefer it if Joffrey came to you?"

"Hmm I think it would be best if we met by the meadows not too far away from here. I still want to keep some parts of myself, well to myself, but I also want to share a few things with him."

"Very well. Would you like Gregory to join you?" As much as you loved playing with him and how right now he is staring at you with his big round puppy dog eyes, maybe for the first meeting should be with you alone.

"Sorry Gregory, but not yet. He doesn't know you yet and I don't want to scare him off. If he wants to meet with me again then I'll introduce the two of you."

"Awo borf!"

"Gregory, listen to Alys."

"You know Alys you can just send him to his bedroom. That way he won't bother you and Joffrey."

"No Lucienne, I'll take care of Gregory for this one. Knowing him he'll just rebel if he doesn't at least watch over what goes on with Alys."

"Very well my lady."

"I think I'll be in my room for awhile. Just call me when he's about to come here."

"Of course darling, you can also rest yourself while waiting. I know how exhausting these influx of memories and actively dreaming can be." She says reassuredly, you thank her and call Gregory to follow you.

It's funny how you don't remember thoroughly exploring this place and yet it seems you know the way back to your bedroom. You settle in your luxurious bed while Gregory sleeps on his own bed close by the fireplace without blocking any paths to the couch and chairs.

You allow yourself to be still and to relax as you feel yourself getting nourished by the sacred fires. So energizing yet calming and soothing at the same time. It was warm enough for you to not need the blanket but it was cool enough to still be comfortable underneath one layer of it.

You don't know how long you rested. But in the waking world some time has definitely passed.

"My dear Alys, I don't know if you can hear me. A lot of us have been talking to you for quite some time. How funny is it that I don't know if all this is in vain...I know I'm not the perfect mother. I know there are many things that you disagree with. Maybe this is why what you've done has given me so much pain. Oh Alys, I'm so sorry for using your brothers so selfishly - you would think that as your mother I should know better."

She gathers herself. You don't know how but you could feel the tears running down her face.

I'm so sorry too mother.

I love you but it needed to be done.

"I...I don't know if anyone else had told you already...but as a tribute to you, the King has ordered your proposed grand counsel to be implemented. It's almost three months ago that your fires have turned from white to blue. Or a darker shade of blue. I ... I can't recall when was the time it changed into a lighter shade of blue. It gave me hope that you are indeed getting better, even if we can't really see it yet. All of us who are going to make our case for being the next ruler of the realm are now preparing our cases with the knowledge that we will all probably end up in the counsel of whomever wins. The chosen representatives of the people from all over the realm are now making their way here along with the lords from all the houses. It is grander than before because as you've designed it's not just the lords anymore but everyone who is a chosen representative of their community."

She takes a moment to gather herself. Even now as you lay there healing, she wishes to show herself as someone you could go to even if she felt so helpless.

"I won't lie, I wish I didn't have to do this. But in some ways you've always been more sharper than me. Seeing things that I am blind to. And if this will be what it takes to finally bring peace, even if it hurts my pride and annoys Daemon...then I'll accept whatever decision the council makes. It's more important that the realm is united rather than divided. Even if it won't be me on the Iron Throne and even if my advice may go unheeded as I sit on their council. Even the King cannot deny the ruler the people would want among us who are going to make their case...I just want to say how proud I am of you for making this change...for making this solution. People think I should hate you for what you've done, but I think it has made me love you even more. Even if you weren't born as my daughter, I'd like to think that I would support this solution. When all this is over...why don't we spend some time together? Just the two of us as mother and daughter. I know it seems I've given almost all my time to Daemon and your siblings - and maybe I have. If you want to travel to Essos and visit the remnants of our Valyrian culture then I shall do my best to make that happen. Maybe as an unofficial diplomat. Unofficial of course because you don't like being tied to politics. And after all that you've done, you more than anyone deserve to be free from that burden."

You couldn't help but smile as tears come down your face.

Your suffering was bearing fruit. You now have more hope that this will put an end to the dispute.

Although it bothered you that the lady hasn't called you to meet Joffrey yet. Maybe he was either not able to dream and had just been having dreamless nights.

"Alys." You open your eyes to see the Sandman and his wife in your room.

"Take your time getting up. Joffrey is going to meet you in the meadow in a few moments."

"Really?"

"Yes, the timing is right. And I am able to create the circumstances for the two of you to meet."

"Oh thank you! Thank you so much."

And meeting him was worth it.

"ALYS!"

"Joffrey!" He runs towards you tumbling both of you on the soft grassy meadows.

"I miss you so much!"

"I missed you too. What's been happening?"

"Your fires turned green today! The priestess says that if the fires manage to turn yellow, then that means you're almost finished. Yellow, then orange, then when it turns red that means its safe enough to remove it and you would wake up soon. Oh and according to father, I grew by this much."

"Oh my that's huge." You say as he shows you a rough estimate of the space between his pointer finger and thumb.

"Uhuh oh and Aemond was chosen to be the next ruler! That's why everyone is making such a big fuss about your fires today. When our whole family visited you, to tell you of the news after the People's minister - a different person from the hand I think - told you the result, right on front of us your fires slowly turned from light blue to green!"

Oh that is a big event. You weren't sure how much time has passed but it must be several weeks if not months at least.

"Joffrey, may I ask how long has it been since the last time my fires have changed?"

"Oh I think it's about six months."

"Six months!?" That was really long. Even the last Great Council was only 14 days long with 13 claimants to the throne.

"Uhuh it was really long even though there were only 3 of them and both mother and Princess Rhaenys are both going to be in his counsel anyway. The new representatives asked a lot of questions and took awhile to decide. But I don't understand, if the losers is still going to be in their counsel anyway, why vie for the Iron Throne? It's scary and you could hurt yourself."

"Oh um well it's there to make sure that the winner doesn't have a big ego like how sometimes I do with Jace."

"Oh" He says wide eyed at you.

"Why did it take 6 months for them to decide?"

"Oh because all three travelled to all parts of Westeros. One of the complaints from the last great council was that none of the claimants actually interacted with the people. And because one of the main things you insisted was that the next ruler should also be chosen by the people that they were going to rule so they needed to travel around first after they have presented their claim. From what Jace told me, the people tell their representatives who they want then their representative votes on who. Can we play now? I'm just confused by all these boring things."

"Hahaha alright, tag you're it."

"HEY!"

"Hahahaha."

You spend the rest of his dream playing tag or hide and seek. And since you were in the realm of dreams, time passed by quickly.

"Wha - what's happening?" He asks as he notices he's starting to fade away.

"You're waking up Joffrey. It's fine, will you tell Aemond congratulations for me?"

"Um okay, I'll try."

"Sometimes that's all it takes."

And then he was gone.

And once again you were alone in the meadows.

Until the Sandman joined you.

"Don't worry, he wants to dream with you again. I'll bring him to you the moment he next sleeps."

"Is it fine though? I wouldn't want to monopolize his dreams. This meeting was enough I feel. I got what I wanted - more than what I wanted. It makes sense that I wouldn't hear everything they tell me because time works differently here."

"It is and I insist. I took the chance to also visit your physical form when your brother Lucerys fell asleep attempting to hold a vigil for you."

"How long ago was this?"

"Not long. About the time you and Joffrey were still playing around. If it's any consolation you're starting to look healthier than when you were first rescued. Your hair is starting to grow back - though I think it would still be too short for your preference. Your muscles and flesh are beginning to be filled once again. You can still see the outline of your bones but it was much prominent before. The wounds that you've obtained have now become scars. You might have to learn how to live with those marks for the rest of your human life."

"...I think they are a good reminder of what I would do or what I am capable of doing and enduring."

"They are - come, my wife wants to show you something."

You arrive at the throne room wherein there was a floating fluid circle on front of his wife. Her back was facing us.

"Come you two - you're just in time."

"In time?" Both of you go to each side of her.

"This is a portal showing what's happening in the Waking World. It doesn't always appear because of the time difference but it was being cooperative right now."

"Which means for now my realm and yours are on the same time and pace."

"Exactly."

"Your realm? I thought since you two were married your realm is also this one made of dreams?"

"In a way I am but it is not my main domain."

"Her domain is much more expansive than this one."

"Since it's safe for you to know this - my realm is actually the waking world. And just like how I am a consort to this one since Morpheus is its ruler, my main domain is everything to do with being alive while you are awake, although that's not the only thing I do. Morpheus is a consort in that dominion of mine and could share in some of my responsibilities just as I help him here."

"Oooh." That's ... actually quite romantic! The Sandman governing the realm of sleep while his wife governs the realm of the waking world.

"Um Aemond." You see little Joffrey accompanied by his nurse. It appears that Aemond was spending time with Helaena and her children.

"Joffrey?" He keeps his voice neutral but questioning. Helaena and her children were there for one and Aemond knows better than doing anything now after all that has happened this far.

"Oh hello Joffrey, would you like to play with us?"

"Um thank you Princess Helaena, but I - I have a strange thing that happened to me. Um..." He takes a breath before turning to face Aemond.

"Alys came into my dreams, she told me to tell you congratulations."

"She did?" It was easy to miss but he was startled before quickly going back to a neutral expression.

"Yes, maybe she was getting annoyed with me always asking her to be in my dreams but she finally appeared last night."

"Well come, tell us more Joffrey." Helaena says as she pats the space in between her and Aemond.

He settles himself more to Helaena's side but still beside Aemond. You couldn't blame him, Aemond could be intimidating to anyone he wasn't close with.

"I don't think she could always hear us when we talk to her. She was asking what happened and she was really surprised to hear that it had been six months already. She didn't even know her fires turned green!"

"Is that so?" Aemond asks as non-threateningly as he can. He was now curious.

"Uhuh when I asked her about it after we played tag and before we played hide and seek, she said that in the realm of dreams time moves differently. She says that the last time she heard anything from outside was from our mother when her fires turned blue. To her it only felt like a few hours ago."

"Oh just like me! One time I dreamt about eating a big piece of cake and that was all I dreamed about and just when I finished eating it I woke up! It felt so short." Jaehaerys says from his spot.

"Yes! It was exactly like that! My dream also felt too short last night." He then turns sheepishly back to Aemond. "Anyway that's all she wanted to tell me to tell you."

"Mmm hmm, I see, thank you Joffrey."

"Why don't you go play with Jaeherys, Jaehaera, and Maelor now."

"Is...is it okay?"

"Yes, it is, go on." After encouragement from Helaena Joffrey then went to play with her children.

"She's still alive."

"You're excited aren't you?"

"Helaena...do you think -"

"If you're going to ask me once again what I think she'll say, you'll have to be patient till the treatment is finished. But knowing her I think she'll forgive you for everything you've done before her 'purification'. The four of you have begun to at least be civil to each other with a common understanding now. That was more than before wherein there was no understanding at all and you were barely civil with each other." Helaena then pauses and she began to mutter.

"For she is what the Gods desire, the desire of the Gods who desires none of them."

"A prophecy?" She nods at him as she continues.

"For she is what the Gods desire, the desire of the Gods who desires none of them. For she is what the Gods desire, the desire of the Gods who desires none of them."

The scene ends and you realize you are about to enter yet another memory.

You were an old lady, and a beautiful woman with a black blouse was sitting beside you.

"Will...will it hurt?"

"You won't feel it. Your body probably will, but you won't feel it." You find yourself looking at her still worried.

"What if? What if I don't become an Endless like the rest of you? What if I simply die?"

"Oh Jessamy." She takes your hand as she massages round circles around it.

"Do you know why your parents named you after Jessamy the raven?"

"I...I think I've forgotten."

"Then let me be the one to remind you. You were named after her because she was the first one with the guts to make them realize after more than a millennia just how much they still loved each other after they stopped talking for awhile because of an argument they've had. They may have taken still a longer, but she was the driving force that made them realized that in themselves."

"Hmph it took awhile before mother learned that her feelings were actually returned and father wasn't just being a gentleman."

"My point is that she was one of the first things that made them change and become better. Your parents saw that in you the moment your mother felt your life from her womb and they rejoiced. Your mother has never had a child that was solely immortal. After all a lot of her functions is made within the mortal shell in each lifetime she has. It was with your father that she allowed herself for the first time to actively use her own powers to ensure that you too would also be a part of the Endless once your human life ended. Was it a risk? Absolutely, you'll be the first one among your siblings. Do we all have faith and hope in you? Absolutely."

"I'm not sure Desire and Aunty Despair also feels that way for me, and Grandfather Destiny probably already knows what would happen but he refuses to say anything."

"Nothing new there."

"But-but what if nothing really does happen and I end up just being a mortal?" She gives you an assuring look.

"If that happens, then I escort you to the Dreaming as per your parent's request." Your slowly beating heart was relieved. You close your eyes as you take your last few breaths.

"Thank you Aunty, I'm ready now." Before you know it you found yourself standing beside her looking at your own corpse.

"Is this - is this what your gift will always feel like?"

"Most of the time, though there are exceptions." You nod at her as you hold her hand. A little girl enters your room, she doesn't see the two of you standing there.

"Grandaunty Jessamy, grandaunty Jessamy my mom made breakfast, grandaunty Jessamy?" She starts shaking your corpse rapidly as she begins panicking.

"MOMMY DADDY!"

"What is it honey?"

"Mommy Grandaunty Jessamy doesn't want to wake up anymore."

"Come Jessamy, let's see what awaits you."

"Okay, before anything happens, I just want to say thank you Aunty." She gives you a warm embrace.

"Come on, let's take you to the Universe now."

Then darkness.

This time this darkness wasn't from your memories.

This darkness was where you are now.

"Mmph."

You feel light shining through, but it wasn't from your powers or anything that you did.

Instinctually you feel your hand remove the crumby little things you would sometimes get after sleeping for awhile.

And then you finally opened your eyes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: See I told you she wasn't dead. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I made sure to put in a lot of worldbuilding things to relieve the pain from Part 6:

1.) Ewan Mitchell's interview has been very influential in making this chapter. Aemond's loneliness and mere existence before claiming Vhagar really helped in fleshing him out even more and what differentiates him and Alys when they were children and even up till now;

2.) Speaking of Vhagar, we learn from the same interview that Vhagar is named after a God of War and speaks to her battle experience. I couldn't help but be inspired by multiple Gods of war who are also Gods of sex, love, fertility, and passions in general. Since in part 1 I've already established that Balerion was the only remaining God still worshipped and he was also a war God, I decided to make Vhagar the God of passions in addition to war. This will play a part later on as Alys recovers more of her memories;

3.) The colors of the fires and the healing process is based on a mix of actual science and color light theory (this is fiction so please don't call me out on using pseudoscience);

4.) Again in some ways this (and probably the next one) was more of a filler worldbuilding chapter though it was emotional writing some of the dialogues Aemond, Rhaenyra, and Joffrey were telling Alys. I had to take more breaks in between because I kept crying; and lastly

5.) Glaesēt mōrqitta is not an actual High Valyrian name or word (well except for the "mōrqitta" which means Endless). I was searching almost every term I could think of that could be a synonym for her actual name, but since there is so far no direct translation I just used the prefix word for life "glaes" and combined it with the perfect tense word for force or use "sētan". I have no idea if this is the proper grammar or portmanteau for her actual name in High Valyrian.

Thank you once again for reading and for everyone who supports me.

[misskawata]

I'm a beginner, sorry if there is any mistake, English is not my first language <3I'm a beginner, sorry if there is any mistake, English is not my first language <3

Senju Kawaragi x fem!reader (+18)

⚠️ Smut⚠️

h/c= hair color

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

Ragged breaths were the only thing that could be heard throughout the small bathroom, followed by the clash of skin against skin.

They still didn't know why they had come to this, or maybe they did, but they didn't want to accept it.

What started as a game with foam ended with both girls suppressing moans and lust on the surface.

They were succumbing to the forbidden, biting into the apple of doom, and committing a crime.

Senju's beautiful emerald blue eyes admired her lover's flushed face, her heart felt full but the guilt lodged in some corner of her soul.

But what could he do? If since the beautiful c/d/p crossed the threshold of her with that light blue dress and a beautiful smile on her tender lips she felt that it would not be easy, because you were her brother's girlfriend and there are sacred codes that have to be respected, but the instant connection they had was so great that they both did not resist and ended up in this situation.

Maybe it's not just a physical attraction no, no this is much more.

The heat emanating from their bodies was ardent, their skin pearled with sweat, their bodies dancing fiercely awash in a sea of ​​immense lust.

Her clitorises brushed against each other with the movement of her hips, causing a delicious and pleasurable friction.

___'s arms wrapped around her lover's neck, holding on and bringing her trembling body closer, throwing her head back as she felt the typical tingling predominant in her stomach.

"I'm about to arrive" she exclaims, digging her nails into the back of the silver-haired girl.

"I-me too" she replies with a broken voice feeling her legs tremble as she feels her orgasm approaching.

The movements of their hips accelerated, loud moans sounding throughout the room, the morbid splash of their wet pussies, the irregular breaths, and the feelings afloat.

Their orgasms finally released, ejaculating staining their stomachs, thighs, and a little on the floor. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly.

___'s hand was placed on the flushed cheek of his beloved gently caressing with the tips of his fingers.

"Finish him" she whispers hopefully. "I know you don't want him, I can be a better girlfriend than him, I know I can make you happy... Just give me a chance" she begged placing her delicate hands on her face.

"Okay, I'll do it, I'm willing to do it. I know we'll be happy." They exchanged smiles, and joined their lips in a sweet kiss.

Maybe it wasn't a bad idea, maybe it just needed a little push for the beginning of a new story to begin, but like every story it has complications and this is one of them.

[bopbopstyles]

MUCH TOO MUCH

RATING: R/smut (some sex, some alcohol/drugs, cursing, the usual)

WORD COUNT: 9.7k

CATEGORIES: college!harry, roommate!harry

MASTERLIST | ASK ME QUESTIONS

a/n: this is my entry for my beloved @stellarboystyles​‘s 3 year anniversary challenge!!!!! it was so fun to write these two and i hope you like it! a bit on the shorter side, but delicious all the same. come talk to me about them when you’re done, i want to hear what you think! (also this was named for the song by lennon stella in case u were curious lol)

Currently, he had you pressed against the wall of a house party, his fingers clenched in the hem of your skin-tight crop top, a knee propped between your legs, and his lips attached to your neck. Your hands were threading through his hair, those locks that curled at the ends and you’d always thought about tugging on, and now that you had the chance you weren’t passing it by.

“Fuck, Harry,” you mumbled, your head spinning from the alcohol in your veins and the feeling of Harry this close to you. To be completely honest, you knew what was happening was probably not the best idea. But considering how many cups of jungle juice you’d had and the fact that you were definitely crossed, you frankly couldn’t find a care in the world.

or

Harry and Y/N live together and one night they hook up and things get complicated

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Harry living with you wasn’t planned. At least, not in the way where you guys were best friends and decided to live together way. More in the way of neither of you had anyone else to live with and had the same price range kind of way. You happened to be at a mutual friend’s party mid-way through your sophomore spring and you’d mentioned in passing that you were looking for a roommate, and Harry’s head had popped up.

Somewhere along the way, though, you’d decided you quite liked living with him.

Even if he was obnoxious sometimes, was absolutely shit at doing chores, and couldn’t properly load the dishwasher.

He had a charm to him, you had to admit. He was good at getting on your good side—texting you when you were on the library and he was just leaving to head over, asking if you wanted anything to snack on. One time, he’d brought you a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos without being asked because he knew you hadn’t eaten in hours and needed your favorite foods.

His charms were what made you overlook the nights that he had people over and you had to listen to the sound of his bed frame hitting the wall, or had to creep into the bathroom in the early hours of the morning before he and whoever he’d brought back woke up, pretending to not even live in your apartment for fear of being embarrassed. Although, you never quite knew what you should be embarrassed about—but you were. Maybe it was because you frequently ended up listening to his sounds and trying not to think about how good he sounded or wondering what it was like to be in bed with him.

But that wasn’t something you would tell anyone, not even your friends who pestered you about what it was like living with Harry. Harry, the party-goer who always had three types of hard liquor in your kitchen but was also your go-to person to edit your papers and help you study for exams. Harry, who was your partner in crime on a night out and on a night in, someone who you could be yourself with no matter the context. It was something you’d never expected from him, but now that you had it, you couldn’t image losing it.

Which was why the current situation you were in was not the best.

Currently, he had you pressed against the wall of a house party, his fingers clenched in the hem of your skin-tight crop top, a knee propped between your legs, and his lips attached to your neck. Your hands were threading through his hair, those locks that curled at the ends and you’d always thought about tugging on, and now that you had the chance you weren’t passing it by.

“Fuck, Harry,” you mumbled, your head spinning from the alcohol in your veins and the feeling of Harry this close to you. To be completely honest, you knew what was happening was probably not the best idea. But considering how many cups of jungle juice you’d had and the fact that you were definitely crossed, you frankly couldn’t find a care in the world.

Besides, it wasn’t like you hadn’t literally dreamed of this happening. In fact, you wanted this with every fiber of your being. You just didn’t have your brain stopping you now.

His tongue danced up the column of your neck, dipping into the crevice under your ear and his lips formed a circle on your skin and pulled gently, your fingers tugging on the strands of his hair. Your heart was beating wildly and so was his—you could feel it against your body—or maybe that was the thrum of the bass? You weren’t sure. When he tugged on your earlobe you wrapped your hands in the bottom of his graphic t-shirt, some random streetwear company that he was obsessed with lately and you thought was weird, but didn’t comment on.

One of your legs slid up his, ankle hooking around his knee and pulling his pelvis into yours, and the surprised grunt that left Harry’s mouth made you smile. “Y/N,” he groaned, fingers pressing harder into your skin. “What are you  doing?”

“I’d ask you the same,” you answered, a devilish smile on your lips that Harry kissed away, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and pulling your jaw down just enough so that he could earn access. It was brutal, kissing him. And not because it was bad, but because it was so good and you’d robbed yourself of this for a year and a half.

Your lips intertwined and fought for dominance, Harry’s sliding between yours and sucking and pulling just enough for you to move closer for more. Your wrists ended up behind his neck, holding him close to you, and you used the pressure to gain an advantage, grinding in his hips and kissing him with a passion burning in your heart.

Harry, meanwhile, was losing his fucking mind. He’d been thinking of this forever, and somehow tonight’s combination of alcohol and weed had led you two here: to a position that neither of your quite knew how it started, but you weren’t stopping it. In fact, Harry caged you in, his hands moving from your body to wall behind you, palms pressed to the worn white paint. He didn’t want to lose you, to lose this moment, to pretend like it never happened. Instead, he wanted to keep you tight against him, to memorize how it felt when the heel of your boots dragged along the inside seam of his denim jeans, the warmth spreading across his neck when you gently scratch at his skin as he suckled on your bottom lip and kissed a line across your jaw. He wanted to remember the sound of your soft breaths in his ears, how they increased in tempo as he sucked a hickey onto your neck, doubling his effort when you didn’t move to stop him. He’d seen you with them before and now that you were his—at least for the night—he wanted to give you one to remember him by.

Not that you could forget him. Not with Some Kind of Drug pounding in the speakers, his hips grinding into yours in the low lighting, his teeth nipping at your skin as you exhaled his name and a curse. He was unforgettable, that Harry Styles. Especially when he had your gripping his skin through his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as he pushed  you higher and higher into the clouds, your mind a haze of just nothing but him.

Harry pulled away a hair, mainly because he  was getting tired of just having you against a wall with people everywhere—he either wanted to move this into a private space or call this off. Although he didn’t really want the latter, not really. That was only if you didn’t want him. But from the way you stared at him as he created a half foot of distance between you, your chest heaving, lace edge of your bra peeking out from underneath your cropped tank top, he didn’t think that’s what you wanted.

“Do you want to stay or go?” He asked, one of his hands lingering at the wall next to you and the other moving to move a piece of your hair out of your face.

“Go,” you answered, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “If—if you want to.”

He didn’t even take a breath before he answered, “Yeah, I want to.”

Which was how you two ended up making out in the Uber back to your apartment, you straddling his lap and twisting over him as he kissed you, his hands cupping your ass. Neither of you were sober enough to think about the fact that you were in someone else’s car, but then again, neither of you would probably care. Especially when you sucked on the edge of Harry’s jaw and he tugged your hips down on his and groaned low and rough in your ear, the sound making you smile against his skin.

The radio was playing the background, but in the haze you didn’t hear anything, all you could take in was Harry: his touch, his smell, the soft sounds he made as you moved on him, the feeling of his jeans against your tights-clad skin. It was chilly out and you had a thin pair of stockings on, sheer enough for your skin to show through, but enough to give you a bit of protection from the nip of the cold. His hands had already rucked up the edge of your favorite leather skirt, and your bra was poking out of the top of your cropped tank top that was tight over the swell of your breasts.

You were a sight in Harry’s eyes, something he couldn’t get enough of. Even though he lived with you, saw you  in every outfit, especially the ones involving mismatched sweats and tired eyes, he never thought you were anything other than beautiful. Sometimes a bit rough around the edges, but who wasn’t? But now, with you like this, on top of him, he didn’t know if he’d ever seen you quite this gorgeous. This delicious, even though he hated describing people that way. But how else could he describe you when you stared down at him, lips red from his kisses and eyes blazing for him, chest heaving and cleavage demanding his attention. His hands couldn’t stop curving over your legs, smoothing up and down your thighs. It was sin, he decided, how he felt right now, because he couldn’t stop the spiral of thoughts in his brain.

The things he wanted to do to you.

The things he wanted you to do to him.

The things he wanted to see.

The things he wanted you to see.

The things he wanted to hear.

The things he wanted you to hear.

The things he wanted to feel.

The things he wanted you to feel.

It was like a freight train running through his head, all of the images and thoughts and concepts barreling into his thoughts. It made the swirl of your hips over his and the way you curled your  fingers into the thin fabric covering his shoulders particularly hard to resist.

Realistically, the drive to your shared off-campus apartment wasn’t that long, but in your heads, it seemed like ages. Ages of waiting for a bed and privacy, ages of waiting to shed layers and know what endless bare skin looked like.  So when your driver arrived at your building, you pushed open the door, narrowly missing banging your head on the roof of the car.

Harry chuckled as he tumbled out after you, thanking the driver and wrapping his arm around your waist. You  wasted no time before you curled your arm around him and danced your fingers up his opposite side, your lips sucking delicately on the fabric of his t-shirt closest to you. It made Harry’s eyes flutter shut and his breath jump.

Was this what  you were always like? This was the thing about this  situation—you two knew one another, but not like this. You’d never made out in the back of an Uber or made out on your doorstep while one of you fumbled for the keys like you were now, or felt your hands dig into exposed skin and singe of hot breath on your neck. This was new territory, and perhaps if you  both weren’t quite so drunk you would’ve stopped to talk about it.

But instead, Harry was leading you to his bedroom with your legs around his waist and your fingers in his hair, his lips crawling up your throat, walking blindly because he knew the way.

The thing about hooking up with someone you’d been close friends with for over a year was that there wasn’t a layer of awkwardness because you didn’t know the person. Instead, it was a hint of unassuredness whenever clothes started coming off, a hint of awe, but nothing uncomfortable. You’d never felt quite this comfortable with someone, in fact. You’d never trusted someone you hooked up with quite as much as you trusted Harry. And he felt the same way. When you pushed his shirt up his torso and scratched your nails softly down his skin he had never felt so alive, so full of desire.

It was why he fell back on his bed and let you stand between his knees in a desperate attempt to get your clothes off so he could feel your bare skin. He’d been waiting all night to see you—to finally see you—and now that he had you, he didn’t want to let you go.

“They’re tights,” you mumbled against his lips when he tried to pull on the material on your legs, a chuckle leaving your mouth.

“I know,” he replied, smirking. “Not an idiot.”

“Never said you were.” You stepped away, deciding you could do this part by yourself with more ease, and unzipped your leather skirt, the zip down the front meaning it was easy access, and let the material fall to the ground. Harry’s eyes swept up your legs and to the place where the band of your tights dug into your waist, gaze flaming black with desire. Then, you hooked your fingers in the tight band and tugged it down, peeling the thin material off of your skin, hopping on one foot to get them off your feet.

Harry resisted the urge to laugh, and instead reached out to hold you steady, a smile winding onto your face from the action. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, standing up straight in just your purple underwear and your shirt and bra. His hands held fast to your hips, palms curving around your skin and gaze dancing up your body. And when you pulled your tight shirt up and over your heads, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties, his heart about stopped.

You had on a set that didn’t match, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop looking at your breasts—it was cliche, that he loved boobs, but how could he not? Especially when you were breathing this fast and looking at him like that and you were wearing a red bra that barely held you in. How as he supposed to not lose his goddamned mind?

“What?” You asked, stepping back in between his legs, hands falling to his shoulders, sliding up the slope to cup his neck.

“You—you just,” he choked out, the words rough and dry in his mouth. “You’re so gorgeous.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just moved. You kissed him, lips caught between his, and pulled at his shirt, tugging it up until he shifted back to tug it off his body and let it fall to the ground. You stopped thinking, stopped using any sense in your body, and instead just felt. Felt how he made your skin sing and your body thrum with pleasure, how he made the worries at the back of your head fall away with each pass of his hands, focused on the way he kissed across your clavicle and sighed when you harshly gripped his hair. You let yourself drown in those feelings because you knew if you used your head that somehow you would succumb to your fears and lose this moment, and that was the utter last thing you wanted.

Instead, you wanted to drown in him.

And he felt the same way. He fell back onto the duvet and took you with him, flipping you onto your back so that your hair was pressed against the pillowcase, a cheap one from Target he’d brought at the beginning of the year that you’d convinced him was a good color. You looked up at him with awe and temptation in your irises, and Harry took only a minute to rip off his jeans and his t-shirt, leaving his boxers on only because he didn’t want to seem like an asshole. Then, he was back hovering over you, his curls falling into his face, your fingers reaching up to push them back.

A smile drifted across your face and he dropped to his elbows, peppering kisses down your neck and falling back to his knees as he made his way down your body. When he heard a chuckle rip from your throat, he glanced up at you. “Distracted?”

“No,” you said, poking his temple. “Thinking about how when we first met I teased you about how you must fuck girls with your snapback on because you wore it so much.”

Harry hummed a laugh into your chest, dimples peeking out and you thought it was downright adorable. “I was a bit of a whore when we met, huh?”

“Maybe a bit,” you answered, a teasing lilt to your words that Harry knew well. “Don’t worry, you’re only just a bit less of one now. Didn’t lose that title, I don’t think.”

“That’s a bit rude,” he said, sucking harshly at your nipple through your bra. “Bullying me while I’m tryin’ to go down on you.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Couldn’t tell since you hadn’t quite made it there yet.”

You were taunting him like you always did, the alcohol in your veins making it more sexual in nature, and Harry loved it. It made it feel like the two of you, not like something that would be completely forgotten in the morning. “Am I too slow for you?” He asked, scratching gently at your sides and making you squirm as he fell farther down the length of your body. “I was trying to take my time but if you’re impatient, then—“

“Harry, please, fuck, just—“ A gasp fell from parted lips when he finally licked at the hood of your clit, your hands gripping his hair within another breath. Your words were nothing but pants, dry and heaving sounds that filled Harry’s head. He’d heard you through the walls before—it was a college-priced apartment, after all. Thick walls weren’t exactly something that fit in your price range. But hearing you this close, this sharp, the sound this crisp in his ears, it was making his hips rut into the duvet. It was his wet dream actualized, as horrible as that sounded.

Yes, he had wet dreams about you.

Yes, he knew that was probably horrible.

And no, he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

Your mind, on the other hand, was blank. Like, literally blank. That was the thing about sex when you were drunk, all the thinking and nerves and walls dropped away and you just let your body feel. There wasn’t that niggling thought at the back of your head that questioned if you looked good like this, you just let go and let your back arch and hips circle and arms quiver. Your hands drifted from the duvet to his hair and then the pillow behind your head, trying to figure out what would hold your grip best as Harry absolutely devoured you.

So far, you hadn’t settled on your favorite thing to hold on to, but his hair was in the running for first place. The sight of his eyes peeking up at yours, an image you only got every once in a while because you could barely keep your eyes open to look at him, was enough to send you spiraling. But you were trying to hold yourself together because you didn’t want this to end. You’d just gotten him like this and you didn’t want the night to be over because who knew what the morning held?

Thankfully, though, your drunk mind didn’t let those disruptive thoughts linger. Instead, they focused on the orgasm rising as he curled his tongue over your panties and then under them, the heat of his breath on your sensitive skin making you moan deeply, his ring-clad fingers pressing into your hips. Harry loved watching you almost as much as he loved tasting you, doing this to you. There was a power in oral sex, Harry couldn’t deny that, and he loved it not because of the power it gave him, but the gratification of making someone else feel good. He loved watching women finish, and you were no different. In fact, you were blowing every woman before you out of the water.

Maybe that was the alcohol talking. He couldn’t tell. But either way, when he sucked on your clit and you squeaked out his name, he didn’t know how he could do this with another person for at least a month or two. Getting you out of his head would be his full-time job for a while, especially while living with you.

Your fingers threaded through his brown curls, eyes fluttering open, mind swirling and trying to focus somehow on the sight below you and the feeling swirling through your body, a tightness spreading up your legs, your toes curling and feet pressing down towards the duvet, scrabbling for something to hold onto. They ended up hooking around Harry’s shoulders, his hands holding your thighs close, as if not worried in the slightest about them getting too tight. Instead, he held you close and your breath came out in short pants, airways drying from not being able to even close your mouth and breathe.

His tongue was just so wet. There wasn’t really a better way to describe it. Oral while you were like this always felt this way—just overwhelming in the most basic sense. It was wet and warm and overwhelming and you never wanted it to end. You didn’t even know how long he was down there, his head tucked between your thighs, alternating between sucking on your clit and licking up and down your slit, poking his tongue into your hole for a second—just long enough to make you groan, deep and unabashed.

“I’m close,” you murmured, words broken and Harry could only understand them because he had heard you talk in the morning after you’d just gotten up and your mind wasn’t quite working yet. He parsed your words together with ease, and the result made him grin, and suck harshly on your clit, before dropping his chin and licking into you with fervor. “Fuck, Harry.”

“That’s it,” he mumbled, words garbled because he didn’t even raise his head to speak, he kept his lips right on your skin which meant the vibrations of his words flowed through your veins.

His fingertips pressed harshly on the outside of your thighs, holding you close, and somehow the combination of the pressure and the heat of his tongue had you tumbling over the edge, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggled to catch a breath, your orgasm overtaking you. Harry watched as your fingers clenched the duvet, legs tightening and then loosening around his shoulders, before dropping to the bed with a satisfied sigh from your lips.

He could watch you for days.

“Come here,” you said, glancing down at him with a fucked out look on your face, eyes glassy and lips red from chewing on them, your hair a mess from thrashing your head back and forth. He’d never seen you quite like this and he liked the sight.

Liked it a lot, in fact. He moved up your body with ease, the soft skin of his legs rubbing against yours. Once he was at your eye level, you sealed the distance with a kiss that made Harry’s mind fumble for stable ground, desperate for you. When you ran your toes up his calf, though, the soft touch making him moan, he knew he was fucked. “You—need you,” he said, breathless against your lips.

You pushed his underwear down without question, sliding your fingers under the band so you could feel his warm skin under your palms. When he bucked up into you as your nails brushed against his butt cheeks, you smiled against his lips, loving how obvious he was. He didn’t hide anything, pretend like he wasn’t affected. You liked that in a guy. “Condom?” You said, tweaking his skin between your thumb and forefinger.

Harry lifted his head, blinking once. “Yeah—yeah, in the drawer. One sec.” He shifted, rolling off of you so he could do two things. The first was find a condom in the drawer, the second was push down his briefs. Well, technically three things, because after that he rolled the condom on with focus, lip caught between his teeth as you watched, head turned to take in the sight of his side profile.

He was gorgeous. You’d known that for a long while, but seeing him like this, under the glow of the bedside table light and the sweaty curls sticking to his forehead, his chest rising rapidly. You were even attracted to his smattering of chest hair, and especially liked the way his skin purged at his sides. In fact, you reached out and grabbed it gently, drawing his attention back to you.

With one look back at you, he rolled back over you, your legs parting with ease. You wound your fingers through his hair and appreciated that he didn’t ask you questions, that he didn’t try to talk about it because you didn’t want to. You wanted this, it was obvious in how you gazed at him with desire and kneaded at his skin, tugging his pelvis closer and closer. The talk, you thought, would’ve ruined it, made you question it. And you didn’t want to question, you just wanted him.

So when he pushed one of your knees up to your waist and brushed his condom-covered tip over your slit, the skin nudging the hood of your clit, your hips moved without thought. Circled up for him, trying to get the angle for him to slip inside properly. Because you were craving it, feeling him. Needed him in a way you never had before and you didn’t want to linger on it, just wanted it to happen finally.

Harry’s eyes caught on yours, and as if scared of what he found, he looked back down at where your bodies met, before pushing inside. A moan ripped from your throat, fingernails digging into his biceps which you were gripping as he slid in slowly.

“Shit,” you cursed as you felt yourself adjusting to him, “Shit, fuck, shit, Harry.”

“Sorry,” he said, a trace of what you could’ve sworn was a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, squeezing at his arms. “Go.”

And he did.

Holy fuck did he go.

Harry held nothing back when he fucked you. He found a  rhythm almost immediately, one that had your torso moving up the duvet and your head raising from the pillow and slamming back down again, eyes fluttering shut and then open again when he hit a deep spot. It was hard to describe how good it felt to have him inside of you, but god, it felt divine. Something you’d been missing. And not that it was him you’d been missing, but sex in general, you’d missed it. Missed this feeling of just losing yourself in it, in the movement of bodies and the sounds and the sweat and that feeling of closeness when Harry’s head dropped down to your neck and he thrusted deep inside of you,  an echo of your name on his lips.

Your ankles hooked above his bum, and the impact of his hips on your inner thighs you knew would leave a bruise in the morning and you relished the prospect of it. Of remembering this feeling, of reliving it every time you squatted down. Although the thought of being empty of him was something you were not looking forward to, you were excited about the aftermath on your body.

And Harry was losing his fucking mind as he moved inside of you. Not only because you were squeezing him tight and thought he was going to come within seconds, but because of the way you were wrapped around his body, your hands holding onto his biceps so tightly he was sure there’d be marks tomorrow. It was how your legs sat above his hips, the backs of your heels digging into his ass to make sure he drove into you with a depth and a speed that you needed. Your head tipped back and your mouth was open slightly, tufts of air and moans of pleasure floating from them and through the air, sending sparks down his spine.

When he dropped his head to your neck it was because he missed smelling you, being that close to you. So he lost himself on the column of your neck, leaving mark after mark as he drove into you, as you swallowed him whole—body and mind. This sex was consuming in a way he wasn’t used to and he didn’t think it was the alcohol and the marijuana. He didn’t know why.

Well, he did, but he pretended not to.

Especially when you pulled on his hair and murmured, “Faster, please, H—fuck, please,” in his ear.

Yes, he decided as he sped up and reached a  depth that made both of you choke on air, it was a far better idea to pretend that what he was feeling right now was completely normal.

Usually you liked to be on top, to set the pace and keep control when you hooked up with guys, but right now, Harry was doing so good on his own that the last thing you wanted was to stop him. So you let him set the pace and instead kept yourself busy by touching every inch of his body available. You fingers ran down the length of his arms, across the black tattoos swirling across his skin, and towards his chest, making a line down to his belly. When you scratched softly over his skin he grunted—and not a weird sound, but one that you could tell meant he liked it.

So you pressed a little harder, experimenting a bit.

To your smug joy, Harry’s fingers curled in the duvet next to your stomach, arms tensing, and his eye snapped to yours. He didn’t even have to say anything—you knew. He wanted you to keep going.

And you did. You brushed your hand to the top of his torso and dragged a torturing path downwards, nails biting into his skin. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave an angry red trail. Harry was panting above you, eyes fluttering closed as he thrusted into you.

He was close. Your nails mixed with how you squeezed him tight inside of you and the sounds you were making and the slam of the bed against the wall and your perfume lingering in the air—it all mixed together into a dangerous concoction that had him struggling on the edge. “Are you close?” He asked, words rougher than they had been when he last spoke.

When your chin tipped down ever so slightly, Harry smiled devilishly, the prospect of bringing you over the edge again spurring him on, a second surge of energy coursing through his veins. Any exhaustion he had been feeling before from lingering in the same position, any ache in his knees or tightness in his arms was gone, in favor of pressing your knees farther up towards your chest, earning a new angle that had your hands scrambling up his arms and nails digging into his shoulders.

He hissed at the touch and you panted the word Yes over and over again, eyes screwed shut as the orgasm built inside of you like a tidal wave, threatening to break as he twisted his hips a particular way. You were going to come, you realized only seconds before it happened, the depth Harry was reaching and the brutal pace against your hips creating a deadly combination.

As you did, a shudder of his name falling through the room, you squeezed Harry like a death grip and he choked out a moan before coming mere seconds after, unable to hold himself back any longer.

“Shit,” he said, leaning against your shins as he caught his breath. Your legs were still propped up against your chest, his hands caging in your body as he leaned his weight onto you.

Your eyes opened, the soft bedroom light seeming brighter after what had just happened. “Shit,” you answered simply, not knowing what else to say.

What did you say to your roommate after you fucked them, anyway? The alcohol still lingered, both of you plenty tipsy still. It was enough for your legs to drop open and happily let Harry kiss you senseless as he withdrew from inside of you, your hand cupping his jaw. His lips were fucking sin and you hoped you would be able to forget them. Because as he pulled away and mumbled about throwing away the condom, leaving you breathless on his duvet, you didn’t know if you’d be able to.

Harry woke up to an empty bed and a throbbing headache. He was still naked, but that wasn’t unusual considering he favored sleeping naked, and his duvet cover was around his waist. The side of the bed you had been asleep in when he’d shut his eyes was bare, the duvet cover askew from seemed to be you leaving.

He rolled over and picked up his phone, cursing at the low battery from not charging it last night. Then, he sat up in bed, letting the sheets pool at his waist and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake them up. His eyes were dry, probably from the weed, and his throat was dry, probably from the alcohol and the sex.

The sex.

His mind flipped through it in a series of images, like a slideshow on double time, the sight of you naked below him filling his brain. The thing about drunk sex was that you could remember the overall experience, the general highlights, certain specific moments, but it wasn’t like you could pick through it and remember each detail. But Harry didn’t even need the details to know it was fucking incredible.

Fucking you was literally a dream come true.

What wasn’t was the other half of the bed being empty, especially considering it was only eight AM.

He listened to the apartment, trying to decipher if he could hear you moving around. Usually he could hear your footfalls, considering how small and cheap the place was. But it was silent, meaning either you were still asleep or you weren’t home. Most likely it was the former, since it was still early and you usually slept late after a night out.

Although he didn’t know how you were the night after sex. And when had you gotten up from his bed?

More importantly, why had you gotten up from his bed?

Logically, he knew it was probably to avoid a weird interaction, but it was more weird for him to wake up alone and not know why. To not know how you wanted to handle this. Because his sober mind was increasingly realizing that although last night’s events were sensational, they were on the whole an utterly horrible idea.

The two of you lived together, for Pete’s sake. You were practically best friends. You still had half a year worth of a lease.

He groaned, his chin dropping to his chest as he took a deep breath. He could do this, he told himself as he kicked back the covers and slid his legs out of the bed. He could handle this.

So he put his phone on its charger, slipped on a pair of joggers, and went to find you.

What Harry didn’t know was that in the next room, you were wide awake. You had tried to fall back asleep after you’d crept out of his bed at six AM, and you had for a while. But then you woke up and the reality of last night came crashing back through your brain and you groaned, reminding yourself how fucking stupid you were.

Sure, Harry was hot.

That didn’t mean you had to fuck him, you idiot, you told yourself. He was your roommate, your friend. Not someone to sleep with. And yet, here you were, your thighs sore from his hips crashing against them and your body smelling like sex and his cologne.

You heard his door open—it was a small apartment after all—and your heart stopped for a second. You waited for the sound of his footsteps, praying he would just walk to the kitchen and not stop at your room. Listening closely, you heard him pause outside your room and then continue into the kitchen, where you heard the refrigerator open and close and then the kettle humming as he started a cup of tea. A part of you sighed, but the other part of you remembered that you had to see him eventually.

Why were you hiding, anyway?

It wasn’t like you could avoid him, and what did you have to avoid him about? Sure, you’d seen his naked body, sure he’d seen yours, sure you’d had mind blowing sex. That didn’t mean anything.

Right?

“Shit,” you groaned softly into your pillow and decided you would stay in your room until the last possible second. You never said you weren’t a coward.

Unfortunately, an hour later the desire to pee was overwhelming you and you couldn’t wait any longer. So you huffed out a sigh, threw on a pair of pajamas and pushed open your door, taking a tentative step into the hallway, trying to gauge where in the house Harry was. You’d lost track of him during a scroll through Instagram and couldn’t quite place him anymore and it was making you nervous.

Then, you heard the floorboards creak.

Your head whirled to the side, your eyes meeting his. He was standing not two feet away, looking at you with messy hair and wide eyes, a cup of tea clutched in one hand. “Hi,” you managed to say. “Bathroom.”

All he did was nod. He nodded as if this entire situation was somehow normal and completely not fucking with both of your brains.

So you strolled down the hall to the bathroom and shut yourself inside. If he wanted to pretend like this was normal, you could do that, you decided. You’d give him normal.

For the next two weeks, that was exactly what you did. You were the picture of normalcy—you pretended like nothing had happened, just made jokes in the kitchen and joined him for study hours and brought home takeaway for the two of you on Thursday night as usual. However, you couldn’t ignore how things had changed between the two of you. There was this…air between you. Charged with sexual tension that you couldn’t ignore, mixed with a hint of awkwardness and uncertainty that had you both on edge. Gone were the playful squeezes to your sides and you swatting him upside the head when he was annoying. Gone was any unexpected touch, in fact. It was like the Cold War in your apartment, a détente on both sides.

It was excruciating. So much so that you’d found yourself wondering if you needed to move out, which was a stupid idea considering it was mid-way through the year and you adored your apartment. It would also probably be more awkward to break the lease agreement than keep it, you decided.

So instead, you stayed, and you pushed through the uncomfortable moments and spent more time in your room than ever before, the living room a space you avoided unless you had to be there. Harry did the same, a look of almost panic on his face whenever you walked into the kitchen in the morning for breakfast. Was the idea of being in close quarters with you really that horrible sounding?

Apparently, it was.

Two weeks after the night of your greatest mistake, the two of you ended up meeting up with your friends. In fact, the exact same set of friends who you’d been with at the house party two weeks prior. You’d ended up walking over to Mariah’s apartment together, a case of Whiteclaws tucked under Harry’s arm. You were rambling about your art history course and he was nodding along, offering the occasional thought. It felt decently normal, and you were hoping it would last through the night.

At first, it did. But then, more and more people started showing up—some people in the debate club with Mariah, a few from the club soccer team with James, the entirety of Lilah’s a cappella group, and then some people you and Harry had each invited. The result was a packed apartment, the music blaring from a portable speaker, and alcohol bottles and plastic cups littering every surface. There was the faint smell of marijuana from when some people went to smoke in Mariah’s room, and it felt comfortable.

You were talking in a group of yourself, two of your friends from a summer internship you’d had, Harry, and Wei, a guy Harry knew from freshman year who had stayed close with. It took everything in your body not to let your gaze linger on Harry, the cut of his dark green t-shirt close to his body and his black skinny jeans gripping his thighs. His hair was a mess, as it always was when he’d had a couple drinks because he ran his hands through it nonstop. His green eyes were sparkling as he listened to a story Wei was telling, his full body laugh sounding in your ears. It was torture being this close to him and there being a wall between the two of you.

“Hey,” your friend Deliah said, her soft voice pulling your attention back to her. “You and Harry okay?”

She hadn’t been there two weeks ago and you hadn’t told her about what had happened. “Yeah, we’re fine,” you told her with a slight nod.

She studied you for a beat longer, but then seemed to accept the response. “I’m going to go get another, you want anything?”

“No, go ahead,” you answered, raising your still half-full glass.

Ronnie, who stood next to you, said she’d go along and then Wei pulled away and followed them, saying he needed another beer and wanted to find one of his friends and say hello, and suddenly, it was just you and Harry. You and Harry and both of you were fairly drunk and you couldn’t stop looking at his lips. The memory of how they felt against yours pushing its way into your brain and suddenly overtaking your every thought.

What was worse was how he was looking at you. He was watching you, something you knew because you knew him, knew what every one of his glances meant. This one was backed by thoughts, it was the result of him thinking about you and watching your face for something. What, you didn’t know. But you couldn’t take the way his eyes were trained on your expression, the feeling of his gaze on your skin. The distance between you felt like it was shrinking and you felt like you could smell his cologne even though in reality you couldn’t, and you wondered if your heart was pounding in your chest because of the alcohol in your bloodstream or him.

You couldn’t stand there next to him, you decided. You simply couldn’t.

“I’m going to get some air,” you said, pushing yourself off the wall. “Back in a second.”

He may have said something, but you were gone before you could hear it, threading through the crowd towards the patio door. It was a tiny patio, just enough space for a set of chairs and a narrow table, but it was enough. It was empty and the music was quieter as you shut the sliding door.

You could breathe out here, and you did, resting your cup on the railing and looking out at the street. Mariah’s apartment was nestled closer to campus, a bit more of an expensive place thanks to her parents and a high-paying summer internship. Distantly you heard the chatter of people walking on the street towards frat row, the honk of what were probably Ubers picking people up and dropping them off at parties.

Slowly, you inhaled, trying to calm the fast beat of your heart. Your thoughts drifted back to Harry, though, and how you had just looked at one another, had studied each other, both knowing that you couldn’t continue you like this. Something had to give and you didn’t know what it was. You didn’t know what to do. Mariah had tried to talk to you about it, but you’d pretended like it was fine because you didn’t want her meddling. You knew she would try to talk to Harry and then it would become some big thing for all of your friends to know about, and you didn’t want that. You just wanted it to be solved and done and over with. You didn’t want all of these feelings in your chest or these thoughts in your head, you didn’t want to think about this anymore.

You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to think about how good he’d felt, about how you wished it could happen again, about how you’d had fucking dreams about him, about how every time you heard his voice it sent shivers through your body because it reminded you of the way he’d said your name, rough and deep and rumbling in his chest.

And then you heard it: your name, in that rough and deep voice. “Y/N.”

“I want to be alone for a bit,” you said, not even turning to face him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, obviously ignoring your words and instead shutting the sliding door behind him.

It was quiet now, and because the balcony was narrow he ended up standing right next to you, his elbow mere inches from yours as he leaned on the railing. “Nothing,” you said with a sigh, the lie bitter on your tongue. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry.”

At first, he didn’t say anything, just let your words float in the slight breeze. But then, you heard the crinkle of his thumb pressing into his cup and you knew he was fidgeting, thinking about something, and you knew he was going to break that silence. “Did I mess everything up?” He asked, so soft you barely heard it over the music from inside.

That make you turn your head, eyes meeting his finally. “It’s not your fault. I was there too, we both are responsible.”

“Then, did we mess everything up?”

You sighed, searching for the words. “I don’t think we messed everything up,” you told him finally. “But I don’t know if it can be like it was before.”

“Do you want it to be like it was before?”

His words made your heart jolt. “When we were friends?”

“Aren’t we still friends?” His words were so soft, so full of emotion, you wondered if this was the kind of conversation to be having right now.

“Yes,” you answered. “But…”

“Nothing more,” he finished. You nodded, and both of you were silent for a beat, letting the truth settle between you two. It was the first time you’d even acknowledged that anything had happened. “I don’t want…”

You turned to look at him and saw his tight his jaw was set, how his eyes were trained on the street in front of the building. How he could barely look at you. “H?”

When he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes were glassy, and you realized he was nearly crying. “I don’t want to go back to how it was before,” he said, words broken in his throat. “I want…I want more.”

That made your mind grind to a halt. “You—what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” he whispered.

You realized he didn’t know. He didn’t know how much you felt for him, how much the night you’d spent together had absolutely destroyed any semblance of an ability to pretend like you weren’t into him, that you hadn’t had a crush on him for ages. He had no fucking clue. “Harry,” you said, reaching out and brushing your fingers along his forearm, “I want the same thing.”

His eyes widened, gaze falling to where your fingers touched his skin and back up to your eyes. “You do?” You nodded, a smile spreading across your face that he quickly mirrored. “Have we been absolute idiots?” He asked, turning on his heal so you were facing one another fully. Then, he reached up and ran his forefinger across your jawline, a shudder running through your body at the feeling of his fingers on your skin.

“I think we might have been,” you answered, ducking your head ever so slightly so that his finger ran up to your mouth, brushing across your bottom lip.

He cleared his throat when you dropped your jaw ever so slightly, just enough for his finger to press in-between your lips, a ghost of a touch. “Can’t even think when you’re looking at me like that,” he mumbled, words that same roughness you remembered from your night together.

“Right back at you,” you told him.

He stepped closer to you, closing the distance. “We’re such idiots,” he murmured, hand moving to cup your jaw, his fingers brushing under your ear.

“Such idiots,” you agreed.

And slowly, he closed the space between you two, his lips brushing yours hesitantly. But the second you felt his mouth slot between yours, you moved closer, pressing your body against his and your arms winding around his waist to hold him close. His other hand brushed down your side and the grip made your skin sing, finally being close to him was everything you needed. It healed the ache in your heart that had lingered ever since that morning, that morning when everything had gone so wrong.

His lips parted and he pulled away ever so slightly, just enough so your foreheads stayed touching.

“Why’d you leave?” He asked, his breath on your lips.

“I got scared you would regret it in the morning,” you replied. “I didn’t want to be there when you did.”

He chuckled softly, a slight shake of his head. “I didn’t regret it,” he told you. “I thought you did.”

“I’m so stupid,” you said, one of your hands moving from his back to encircle his wrist that held your face. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s okay.” He pressed his lips to your nose so sweetly your knees just about gave out. “Got you in the end, right?”

You hummed an affirmation and leaned up so that your lips could reconnect, kissing him with a passion you’d been seeking for two weeks. And when he kissed you back, the tips of his hair brushing your skin and his fingers pressing against your skin, you sighed, finally feeling settled once again. You’d missed this—him, being this close to him. Somehow, that one night had made you permanently miss him.

He’d truly done a number on you.

“Wanna go home?” You asked between kisses, loving the soft moan that feel from his throat at the thought.

“As long as I wake up to you still next to me,” he replied.

“Promise,” you said, kissing him once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The two of you ended up keeping the apartment for the rest of the year, your stuff slowly ending up in his room because the mattress was more comfortable, and eventually your old room became a shared study room. It was where your desks ended up and you’d study there together in the evenings or marathon study sessions on the weekends, music playing from a speaker between you two. Most of the time, you ended up making out, though, and occasionally having sex on one of your desks or on the floor because frankly you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. The sexual tension that had been there that first night had lingered, and it made it so you two truly couldn’t stop touching each other.

It drove your friends crazy, all of them yelling at you whenever you started making out at parties, reminding you that you were in public and you could hold off until you were home, thank you very much. And Harry just would kiss your temple and whisper in your ear about what he wanted to do to you later, and you’d pinch his bum to remind him that he wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeves.

Harry had never fallen in love with someone so fast, but with you it was easy. You had been one of his favorite people before you’d started dating, but now it was like you were truly the most incredible people in the world. He’d wake up with you snuggled into his chest, hair tickling his nose, and he’d get a kiss before you left bed since your class schedules started at the same time most days. You’d make his tea just like he liked it and rubbed his back when he got sick after a big night out, and when you laughed at one of his corny jokes your entire face would light up, a beaming smile that made his whole body ache. You were so gorgeous is physically hurt sometimes because he couldn’t stop staring at you, absorbing just how fucking perfect you were.

It was funny, because dating you wasn’t all that different from being your friend. He still got all the shared dinners and movie nights and hilarious stories the morning after a night out, but now he got to hear them while cuddling you on the couch, your head tucked against his neck. And when you teased him about how much of a boy he was (his snapback was your favorite target) you’d kiss him to make him stop pouting. But he was happy. He was so fucking happy with you.

He was thinking about all of that while you sat on the couch together, his head lying in your lap as you read a book for class, your fingers running through his hair absentmindedly. He was watching you, something he did often and you’d grown used to, and suddenly the overwhelming desire to finally tell you how he felt hit him like a truck.

And unlike previous attempts, he couldn’t stop himself.

“I love you,” he said, the words so simple and sure that they made you stop reading and look down at him.

“What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, drawing out the last word and tucking his face into your stomach, peppering kisses over your shirt. For some reason, he wasn’t nervous, knowing you’d say it or not and either way it was okay—he wasn’t expecting you to necessarily be ready. He just couldn’t hide it anymore.

He knew your mind was turning but he just kept kissing you, knowing the action would calm your anxious thoughts. “I love you too,” you finally said after a beat, and he looked up at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you idiot,” you answered, setting your book down on the couch and smiling at him. “Wasn’t expecting to tell you quite like this, though.”

“How were you planning to tell me?”

You shrugged, rubbing a circle on his forehead. “Dunno. Something more monumental, I guess? I know you like all those romance movies, so I thought maybe something like in one of those.”

He adored the fact that you wanted to make it special, that you’d thought about it, but he just shook his head at you. “I don’t need it to be monumental,” he told you, brushing his fingers along your chin. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Shut up.”

“Never,” he said, sitting up and grabbing your hips, swinging you onto his lap with your laughter raining down on him. “Never going to stop telling you how perfect you are.”

He hooked his fingers on your neck and pulled you in for a kiss, one of those ones that made your thoughts all mushy and his heart pound in his chest because sometimes the way he felt about you just made his whole body go silent except for his heart. Or, at least it felt that way.

“Love you,” he mumbled against your lips, eyes catching yours.

“Love you more,” you replied, kissing his nose softly.

“Are we going to be one of those couples that is constantly competing over who loves the other person more?” He asked, nestling his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, settling there as your fingers swept through his hair. You wrapped around him like this was his favorite place to be.

“Probably,” you answered simply, a tender kiss to the side of his head. “Now, does this mean you’ll make dinner tonight? I’ve got a paper to edit.”

He laughed into your shoulder, picking his head up to look at you. “You make it sound like I don’t make dinner practically every night.”

You shrugged, a playful smile on your face. “You’re just better at it.”

“False, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“God, your ego has got to be massive now,” you mumbled, and he laughed, smile stretching across his face and dimples poking out.

“Alright, go start on your essay and I’ll cook something for us. Sound good?”

You beamed at him. “Perfect.” You bounced off his lap, grabbing your book and heading for your old room. “Love you!”

The words were called over your shoulder and Harry smiled at how perfect they sounded on your lips, how easy it was to answer back simply, “Love you more,” at your receding figure, the thought gracing his mind at how he’d like to be saying those words to you for a very, very long time.

HI I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!!!!! COME TALK TO ME IN MY INBOX AND PLEASE REBLOG SO MORE PEOPLE GET TO READ/SEE THIS!!! XOXOXOXO LOVE YOUUUU

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.

Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.

To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.

I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.

Where's the Gun?

Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.

Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.

Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.

That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.

He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.

None of that happened this chapter.

Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.

In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.

The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?

They're strangers.

They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.

Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.

So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.

So from that angle she's unnecessary.

Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.

And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.

Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.

We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.

"Those who can fly, should."

"I don't belong in a cage."

"I'm free of my shackles."

"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"

What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.

@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.

Which brings me to another concern.

2. What's the point?

There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.

We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.

If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.

Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.

By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!

All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*

FOUR PAGES!!!

Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.

3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!

It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.

Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!

None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.

It's BAD WRITING.

The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.

This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.

4. At least it can get better... I hope.

Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.

It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.

See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.

[mlm-mod-taka]

Hello! May I get some cuddling comfort with a reader who had a nightmare, with Shuichi?

-💧Anon

NIGHTMARE HCS • shuichi x gn reader

of course, beloved 💧 anon! /p so sorry that i haven't been as active lately, despite it being the weekend where i live. i'll finish all my requests eventually, school has just been mentally draining me a slight bit. anyways, i hope these are good!

tws/cws: nightmares.

|| -> mod taka <3

shuichi is pretty descensitized to most things, he is a detective after all. he has to investigate in a lot of crime scenes for practice, and often times those are murder cases. but, just because he doesn't experience it, doesn't mean that he won't comfort you through it.

i feel like he's a relatively light sleeper, not as light as byakuya, but definitely lighter than most of his classmates. so, when he feels you slightly flailing around in your sleep, he almost instantly gets up to check whats wrong.

a sigh of relief leaves him when he sees that no one has broken in, but is a little confused as to why you were moving so harshly. until he connects the dots, you're probably having a bad dream.

he quickly wakes you up when he realizes, sweating out of worry. when you get up and calm down just enough to process the things happening around you, your arms go around him to get some comfort from that nightmare.

he accepts the affection, he always does when its from you. but, he makes sure to make it extra comforting since he knows that you're probably still really on edge from your dream.

of course, he tries not to give you to much affection, unless you clearly state that you want him to. he doesn't want to accidentally overwhelm you while you're already all over the place.

waits for you to have some peace of mind, and thats when he'll ask what the dream is about. he has no problems if you don't want to tell him, and would try to help you the best he can either way.

if you like sweets, he'll go get some left over in his fridge downstairs. if you don't then he'll happily order some food, despite it being 3 in the morning. just name your comfort food and he'll go get it.

he'd ask you about things that he knows will make you feel better. whether thats your favorite show, franchise or just something you have a specific interest in, he'll let you ramble about it while he hugs you and eats your favorite food.

touches your face a lot so he can look in to your eyes. he really enjoys looking at them because they can show so much emotion and feeling. he hopes you find comfort in his stare as well.

when you go back to sleep, he does too. he doesn't stay up to see if you will be okay, mainly because he knows that his body will wake him up if he senses the slightest bit of unease. but, just in case, he holds your hand while you go back to slumber.

[shadowgeist-stars]

Ren x Gakushu: Nightmares

Ren was standing in the Chairman's office, watching the man pace around him, Araki, Seo, and Koyama with practiced, measured steps. His words were almost entirely unintelligible, but his voice was just like always. The same eerie, low tenor that made his skin try to crawl off his body, like he suddenly had some kind of flesh-eating disease.

Suddenly the monster struck. A huge fleshy mass with eyes so big that they overlapped one another on its face. A mouth so wide and sharply fanged that it could swallow anyone whole and shred them apart in its jaws anyway. Before he knew it, there was an agonizing sting at the back of his head and the better part of his back. Ren was somehow thrown against the wall, pain tearing against his sternum and surrounding ligaments making it nearly impossible to breathe. The others were no different, as if they were flung just as woefully unprepared into the same MMA fight that he was in.

Then he realized all of their bodies hadn't even moved.

For all intents and purposes, their minds had been violently punted from each of their bodies, leaving them as empty shells that did nothing but chant an insatiable desire to kill E-Class. If Ren didn't have trouble breathing before, he was all but suffocating now. It only got worse when Gakushu reentered the room, only to call out to Ren and the others in horror. The mix of anger, disgust, and outright fear with which he stared at his father and his pet beast nearly wrenched his racing heart clear out of his chest.

“Gakushu, please… I'm right here…”

He forced his ghostly form to stand up. Dizziness spun his vision every which way. His shaking feet didn't feel anything close to steady as he tried to stumble toward his friend. The monster over the principal's shoulder only pounced again, painfully crushing his throat in its clawed grip as he could only face that menacing, unnatural grin. Darkness was beginning to dot his vision as it blurred with tears. He reached helplessly for his best friend with whatever vanishing strength he had left, as it all went cold and dark and --

Ren's eyes shot open with a gasp, heart pounding and breathing as if he'd just endured one of Gakushu's soccer games. He lay frozen and tense in his bed, clutching his bed covers and staring at nothing but his own bedroom floor as he slowly willed himself to calm down.

After he finally deemed himself calmed from the nightmare, (and telling himself that No, panic-brain, my blazer that I keep hung on my door is not a monster that's here to kill me) he sat up in his bed and checked the time on his alarm clock.

Only a few minutes after 3 o’clock, in the morning.

Ren grimaced to himself, running a hand through his stupid bedhead. Either Seo or Koyama would probably laugh about some kind of joke related to the time that he’s almost certain he’d rather not hear. However, he just thought it was too darn early to be up, even with something like a very graphic memory/nightmare to blame.

The principal monster from his nightmare flashed behind his eyes, in its own twisted "speak of the devil." What better way of being told by one's own brain that going back to sleep at that moment was not an option?

…Maybe a cup of tea or something warm (and uncaffeinated) would settle him down enough to help.

With a sigh, he got out of bed, pulled on a shirt, and headed to the kitchen.

He knew the house well enough that he didn't have to turn on the lights. He knew every place where the floors creaked, exactly where to stick to the walls and where to simply keep a light foot. The tiny nightlights in the halls kept it just visible enough that one didn't have to stumble around in complete darkness.

Many years ago, traversing his house at night was a game to Ren. One where his eyes sported beams of light to help him see. A game in which the dark wasn’t a monster to fear, but his playmate.

When he reached the kitchen, he breathed a soft sigh of relief. He grabbed a mug from the dish cabinet, but before he could do anything else, he noticed a light.

Light that was coming from the living room TV, partly shadowed by a figure on the couch.

Ren had a feeling he knew who that was. Guess I’m not the only one having a rough night.

With that in mind, he grabbed a second mug before pulling the jar of dried chamomile from the back of a different cabinet, fixing some tea with it.

The person on the couch didn’t respond to any noise he made, which meant one of two things: he was either quite aware of his presence and simply waiting for Ren to reveal himself, or he was out of it to the point of somehow not noticing the brunette was even there.

With someone like Gakushu Asano, there was no in-between with those two possibilities.

The moment the tea was ready, Ren poured it into the two mugs, a small voice in the back of his mind reminding him to put some sugar in Gakushu’s mug. He likes his tea sweetened a little. It’ll help him calm down more easily if he’s tense or had a nightmare, and right now he's possibly both.

He glanced at whatever he was watching on TV, which was turned down so low he couldn’t quite hear it. A documentary: his go-to for calming down from a bad dream. Crime or historic ones usually mean something relatively tame. But this one’s a nature documentary; he only goes to those things when it’s really bad.

The taller boy took a deep breath before heading over, humming a familiar tune and making sure to seek out the one floorboard he knew would creak. A word of advice from a friend, so as to not scare him once in his line of sight.

The redhead made an almost unnoticeable jolt before bright purple eyes met his. (So he really was out of it to a point he didn't know I was there, or at least hyperfixating on the TV.) He was wrapped in a throw blanket and had his legs laid across the length of the couch; he was probably planning on sleeping there if he was able to calm down enough.

“Ren… How long have you been up?” he asked, shifting around to sit properly on the sofa.

He chuckled, setting down the mugs on the coffee table until he was sitting down beside his boyfriend. “Obviously not as long as you.” His smile became a frown when he got no snarky response. “Nightmares keeping you up, too, huh?”

The shorter boy only nodded once, taking his mug when it was offered. “I hoped to be able to sleep again, after getting my mind off of it… And I didn’t expect to be discovered."

Ren hummed, sipping his own beverage. "…It was the brainwashing incident on my end… Araki saying it felt like an out-of-body experience was pretty accurate."

The ginger didn't seem too surprised. "…It was partially that exact incident for myself… and also the immediate aftermath of the pole-toppling match. I still find it hard to forget how badly Kevin and the other exchange students were injured, because of him… it was so severe that they all had to return to their home countries, once they'd recovered enough to do so."

The others didn’t hear much of that when it happened beyond when the paramedics showed up at the school. At the time, they all knew better than to ask while the wound was still fresh. Then again, it wasn’t like he would’ve been coherent enough to elaborate on the situation anyway, given how he fell asleep on the ride home.

"Least they don't have to worry about him hurting them again now…" he replied finally, "or anyone, to be honest. Especially not you." He pulled the strawberry blond boy into his side. "I think you remember well enough… how worried I was when he hit you in front of everybody."

The shorter boy’s exhale reverberated with exhaustion as his head drooped on his lover’s shoulder, followed by the sound of him emptying his mug. “Not as much as I wish I did… but at the same time more than I care to admit. It’s exhausting just thinking about it.”

The brunette smiled sadly at the sheer amount of fatigue in his tone, giving his shoulder a squeeze before finishing his own drink. "All the same, we can say that we're safe from him, and that in itself means a lot… By the way, I would've been alright with you coming over to my room after you woke up from your nightmare."

That only earned him a sleepy, yet sour look. "Why would I do that? I'm not a toddler, Ren."

The brunette snickered, using a thumb and index finger to get the other to face him. "Maybe not, but it's not childish to be afraid or need someone else, even for just a little company. Haven't you felt any better since I came out here?"

Gakushu tried to avert his face. "I suppose you could say that…"

Begrudging victory; I'll take it.

He smiled as he leaned in to kiss the shorter boy. He slipped his tongue in easily, tasting the chamomile's aftermath and practically feeling the remnants of Gakushu's tension and traces of his own nightmare disappear into the documentary's white noise. The ginger all but melted into his arms, the long and lazy kiss bearing down on his eyelids with sleep in a wave of honeyed warmth. Pulling away showed a pair of hazy purple eyes struggling to open again, on an adorable, blushing face.

“I love you, Gakushu; sweet dreams.”

The shorter boy gave a slow, cat-like blink, snuggling further against the taller boy. “Hmm… love you too… Ren…”

Ren chuckled at his slurred speech as he took Gakushu's empty mug from his hands, placing it and his own mug on the coffee table. Afterwards he turned off the TV, pulling Gakushu along as he shifted them around, until they were now both laying sideways on the couch, with a red-haired head on his chest. He managed to resituate the throw blanket over them both, draping long arms over his beloved; one settling across his waist, the other scratching his scalp in rhythmic circles.

He leaned into the crevice between the couch cushion and backrest with a contented sigh. With the weight and warmth of his boyfriend in his arms and the steady whispering breeze of breath in his ears and over his chest, the image of the former principal and the big-eyed monster was nothing more than a fading memory. They were both safe here, in this homey little bubble. Pressing a final kiss to his boyfriend's crown, he laid his own head down and closed his eyes, letting sleep carry him away on a far more welcoming cloud.

It wasn’t the first time they had such nightmares, and it may well be far from the last, but for now, they could sleep without fear, and that was enough.