#no lie i have been slowly getting worse All day so i probably wont be able to go 😭😭

[beegswaz]

reblog to make me so ill i Cant attend class tmr i DONT WANNA GOOOO

[ravarui]

The silence from Benn is worse for him than if he would try to defend himself. Couldn't he say something at least?! Anything?! But no! He just laid there and let him yell at him, while looking at Shanks with those eyes full of sorrow and regret, with tears running down his cheeks.

And as hard as it was, how could he not believe him when he looked at him like that? All those years, even the things now...they could hardly be all a lie, right? Or was he just delusional and his mind was conjuring all kinds of excuses that would justify Benns actions? Or was this just the point? If anyone would know how to play him, to get him to do what he wants, to use his emotional vulnerability against himself it would be Benn.

Whatever decision he would make, he knew he couldn't trust himself. He needed the advice of the others. Situations like these rarely happened, and when they had, when he had wavered for only a second, Benn had been there to catch him, to steady him and make sure he was able to continue on. But this time it wasn't like it. This time his friend, his lover was the reason for all this mess. And the others? They all had their own opinions and expectations of him.

His blood runs cold at the next admission and a look of horror washes over his face, replaces the anger as things slowly fall into place. It finally made sense. The distance between them the days before the betrayal. He hadn't thought much of it first, simply thought that Benn had wanted some peace and quiet like he sometimes did. But then he also hadn't shared a bed with him in those times. Nothing that unusual either, but still something that should have made him start questioning things a little bit. He really had been an utterly fool hadn't he?

"How long have they've been listening?" If what he said was true, getting a roughly timeframe would be important. So he would know what might have gotten out, what advantages they might hold over his crew.

What was his plan? That was the question wasn't it? What would he do? "I don't know yet." And he really didn't. He would need to speak with the others about it first. About everything, because he was in no state to make a proper decision or even attempt to form a plan yet. All he knew was that he wanted revenge. Revenge for the things his crew and him had been put through.

The last sentence causes him to scoff. "I've been at risk since Roger took me in when I was nine years old." And it was true. Back then he had had the protection of the Roger pirates, but he had seen and done things that no child probably should. Not that he regretted his time, no. He was proud of it. But he also knew he had been to young for such a lifestyle.

And after his captains death? He had been hunted without mercy. The marines didn't care that he had been only fifteen at this point. He was a remnant of the Roger pirates and they had wanted everyone connected to the king of the pirates gone for good. "I'll think of something. But they wont get any of us. Not anymore." Not when he knew what was coming now.

Benn was silent, once again absorbing all the anger and hurt that Shanks was hurling at him. There was nothing he could say in response. But what he could do was stay looking at Shanks, give the man the respect of maintaining eye contact. Let himself feel everything Shanks wanted to throw at him.

It had started, all of this had started, with such a normal set-up. They had all been drinking in a bar one evening. He had been flirting with a sweet little thing, letting her admire his muscles and his scars, oh now it was just all so sickeningly stupid. The way he drank with his eyes on her. The way the bartender filled his glass without prompting. It had been a well-organized moment the bartender and the woman were in on. When he followed her back to a secluded room it was so routine. But when the door closed behind them, his body had grown heavy. Suddenly, he was at their mercy.

All over being such a fucking stupid flirt. How he had let himself grow so casual, so lax. As though he weren't just as wanted as anyone else on their crew, as though he weren't just as much a target.

The very, very small transponder snail variant they had used was one that had been attached to him at the base of the back of his neck, just under his cape. New technology, the Cipher Pol agents had bragged as he had tried to regain feeling in his limbs. They showed him, with that sadistic glee that came from someone who had completed a job flawlessly and was now letting their victim squirm, how crystal clear everything that came through would be. They would hear everything. And, if anything should happen to the snail, they'd know. And they'd take action accordingly.

As a result, in the days leading up to the betrayal, he'd been quiet. Any conversation was going to be heard by the government. The longer he stayed on the ship, the more intel they would have, the bigger the threat. If he couldn't do anything, he could at least prevent them from learning a damn thing.

But the more he thought about explaining that, the more it sounded like excuse after excuse after excuse. "I let myself get taken advantage of." It was the only explanation he could offer. They had removed the transponder snail when he had initially been thrown into the jail cell, not bothering to replace it when they expected his death on the field. It was still new technology, and they didn't want to lose it to the carnage of pirates. But the scar on the back of his neck from the attachment was still there. "And because of that, they were listening. To everything I said and said to me."

He had no choice but to hope they were being true to their word, but he knew as much as Shanks did that there was little chance Sakazuki would honor a promise made to pirates. And Benn didn't miss the lack of including himself in Shanks' declaration of the crew's safety. He wasn't a part of this crew anymore. Such carelessness at the start to begin with, it was unforgiveable.

While his tears had stopped, the sorrow on his face would stay for a long, long time. "If you refuse to send me back, then what is your plan for the safety of the crew? When they realize I am alive they will mobilize and we-" he stopped, taking another deep breath before continuing, "you will all be at risk."

[oh-for-fic-sake]

What is August going to do if his little decides to play with his forbidden knife collection? :3

Omg so this took a while and i'm sorry but im sooo happy with this! It got a little long so im hidig it under a cut but i hope you enjoy! @littlefreya @viking-raider

August swore vehemently looking around for the blades he'd sharpened specifically for his next assignment.

This needed to be silent and precise, he'd sharpened each blade twice! Not once but twice!

He wouldnt even attempt his 'arm hair' shave test this time knowing he may have gone over board with the sharpening.

But he couldnt help it, he found it therapeutic running his hands over the blades again and again, it was like medatation for him.

But they were no where to be seen! Hed placed them each delicatly in the rolled travelling leather holster, useing the small poppers to lock each dangerous blade in place and then hid it in the small safe in the wardrobe.

"Baby girl! LITTLE ONE HAVE YOU BEEN IN THE SAFE?!" He shouted down the stairs only not to get an answer, the radio on the kitchen drowning him out.

You were baking, well 'bakeing' he had bought a 'unicorn gingerbread box kit' for you both to make today.

It was a small treat he would spend the day with you doing anything your little heart desires befor setting off onto his week long mission.

You were currently rolling out the gingrbread and he had decided to sneak his weapons into his bag while you were preoccupied.

August never liked rubbing innhis occupation with you, never liked faceing the awkward questions, he wont lie to you but in being truthfull he can sometimes frighten you.

In the bedroom he was as ruthless and rough and demanding as he was at work.

But like this when you were little, you drew out a softer side. Well as soft as he was capable of, he was a stern man in everything he did, even in daddying you.

August huffed and zipped his case violently stressing out he needed to go down and pversee ou before you did something foolish, like tried to put the gingerbread in the oven.

Your panicked hyperventilating and bitten 9ff screams drew his attention immediatly!

He bolted down the stairs as fast as he could, so panicked by the cries and screams from the kitchen he raced through the housestomping and crashing with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.

Oh hell.

He froze, face paling mouth agape as he took in the scene.

Then he roared in a way you'd never heard.

You cowered holding your hand tightly as it bled profusely red life blood poured all over the white counter ruining the sheet pan dusted with what was once pure white flour.

The blood was also over the rolled out gingerbread, along with a very familiar knife.

You cried and staggered over you august holding your wound tightly tripping over your feet to him, wandering blindly unable to see much through your tears. Or hear past your frantic crying and yelps of "daddy!?"

August quickly decended on you grasping a teatowel from the laundry basket on the counter and tookover holding your offered wounded hand whislts snappjng at you in worry fueled anger.

"What the fuck are you dojng with that!? They are daddies special knives! You know not to touch thwm you silly little girl!"

"I'm s-so-rry! OUCH, NO-OO DAD-DY IT HURTS!" You cried out complaining as he dabbed the wound inspecting it.

It wasnt to deep just long, across the whole of your palm. He could tell your slipped and probably didnt evwn notice youd cut yourself untill it'd sliced fully across.

He'd sharpened them that much.

"You will be! By god little lady you will ne so very very sorry when im done woth you!"

"Come on sit down before you pass out and bleed all over the kitchen" he said tying a knot in two corners ot the teatowle making a triangle like a sling and looped it around your palm then fetched a wooden spoon slotting it in the large opening and began twisting it tight making a tourniquet.

You hissed as he pulled the clother thighter and tighter then slipped the wooden spoon into your fingers holding the teatowel still, before raising your hand high letting gravityhelp slow the bleeding.

"Now hold that there, dont you move, w need to stop the bleeding so i can mend it" he snipped grunting to himself. He wasnt worried as such, it looked worse than it was he had tended to worse on himself.

"Y-you can fix it da-ddy?" You sobbed tryi g to be brave but you were shaking like a leaf, youd never bled that much before.

"Yes daddy can fix it poppet, daddy can always fix it" he said quickly pulling out his... vast medic kit that was fully stocked to deal with everything from burns and cuts to bullet woulds and decapitated fingers. Because ou never know.

"A-are you mad da-addy?!" You whined eyes wide as he huffed and sighed dragging his hands through hos hair irritated

"Im not angry im very very disappointed. And you can bet your little ass is gonna be meeting that spoon shortly!" He said vehemently trying to calm himself and remind himself it wasnt too serious and he could deal with this cut.

You didnt even argue just looked down, dropping your watery eyes to the floor like a kicked puppy, and it wasnt even to soften him either.

"Why were you touching daddies private things?" He spoke tyring to take both his and your mind off your wound as he located everything he needed from the box.

"A'cos i wa-nted to see...they were shiney after you were polishin'em" you explained hicupping slowly weeping still as the pain and throbbing set in.

"I was sharpening them poppet, not polishing" he uttered quickly with a sigh trying to find a quaze big enough to wrap in a bandage.

"I just wanted to see... Never gon' touch" you sobbed bijng your lip eyes flickingnup the the now red teatowel, your figers were going a ittle numb from the tight tourniquet.

"And then?" He asked quirking a brow as you before waling to the kitchen sink washing and rinsing the washing up bowl thoroughly befpre filling with fresh warm water and a new clean cloth.

"Then the box said cut round the unicorns with a knife... And I already got it out to look at" you said shrugging a little as he moveed down your hand. Luckily the bleedig had stopped.

"I also says let and adult do it" your daddy chided as he slowly and gwntly unwrapped your hand making our fingers sting a little at the renewed bloodflow

"Im an-adult" you argued weakly then hissed as he begancleani g the wound dabbig it ever so lightly knowig he had to use clean water instead of antiseptic that could slow the healing of the delicate skin.

"Your a baby" he said with a roll of his eyes 'a spoilt baby' he added as an after thought to himself.

"...but im carful never cut myself with my big girl knives!" You agrued then gasped giving a small 'uh oh' you mouth had run away with you again.

"You mean the kitchen knives?" August asked quickly coming down on the new information like a... well hammer on a land mine.

"No... my saftey knives daddy" you uttered under your breath hissing as he moved on to the next stage of tending to your wound pressing the gauze to it.

"What do you mean your safety onives little one?" He said paying close attention to the bandages he was unravling over your hand trying to keep it firm but comfortable.

"My safety knives... i-in my purse?... Incase of baddies" you whispered slowly praying he wouldnt hear you. But his fingers paused for a second before quickly tying off the bandage in a knot and gave you a fierce look.

"You have knives in your?- wait hold-" august frowned and held a hand up singnalling you to stay then left the kitchen.

He returned moments later and emptied your pjrse only to growl shaking his had as a plethora of 'cute' weapons fell out. Hello kitty switch blades, rainbow blades, pink pocket knives and suspicious looking comb, key knives, pen knives you name it! There was even a ... cat keyring obviously meant to be some sort of pointy eared knuckle duster.

"Really poppet? Knives and... knuckle dusters- these are" he began scolding you but you cut him off

"I know i know daddy im sorry-" your apology was halted as your daddy spoke over you in a warning to e, he didnt like being interrupted.

"No where near good enough! These are all close range! If your close enough to use these then your already fucked! No you need pepperspray and a tazer!" He growled quickly picking up the feeble knives that had no grip to them, and wasnt ever sharp!

"T-tazer?" You stuttered tiltinnyour head cradling your injured hand to your chest.

"Yes, they are close range but will stop any attacker in their tracks! You can get away whilst your attacker is convulsing and laying in a pool of his own piss!" August growled becoming more and more aggravated as he realised you had now real way of protecting yourself when he wasnt around, big or little!

"Im getting you a tazer- today! Before i leave" he decided nodding to himself as he binned the now soiled teatowel and wash cloth.

"...can i have a pink one daddy?" You asked not being the slightest bit against having a tazer, it would make you feel alot safer then a knife.

Knives needed a proper opening and some brute force to protect you and could really really hurt someone!

A tazer was just a button and could work nomatter where ou hit the baddy and would kill them just make em gall over and pee.

"You can have a pink one princess... or a lipstick one or a tampon one?" Auguast suggested trying to thinl of the best one for you... he was sure a smaller discreet one whould be better than a law enforcement grade.

"That sounds uncomfortable daddy..." you uttered shuddering at the thought of that... being mistaken.

"Its not really a- fuck it... Right come on lets get in the living room you can go pick a tazer online" he said beginni g to pack up the first aid kitpillig everthing neatly into the box.

"O-okay... but no spankies daddy... I'm hurt" you warned cautiously waving your bandaged hand

"Yes spankies! Absolutly spankies! You take this spoon with you and you can pop it on the table as a reminder!" He ordered holding you with a level gaze blue eyes warning you to do as you were told.

"But my hand-" you said sniffling cradling it.

"Will be the least of your problems when I'm tanning your naughty butt! Now go or else" he threataned clipping the first aid box shut still watching you, staring unblinkingly.

"Or else what-" you started but your daddy was havig none of it and cut you off again.

"There is a silicone butter icing spreader in this kitchen that will be much worse than thw wooden spoon! Now get in the living room befpre i make you find it" he growled not about to let you throw a paddy about getting your ass blistered after the stunt you pulled.

Your lower lip wobbled but yu nodded giving up, plucking the wooden spoon and turning around leaing the kitchen in a walk of shame muttering a tiny 'yes daddy, sorry daddy'

Auguast watched with a stern face, before turning his attention to the bloody kitchen he will clean before coming to deal with you.

A good fifteen mineut wait will let you have time to reflect before he comes in and tans you hide.

[robininthelabyrinth]

First time submitting prompts, fairly new follower. Love your writing!

NHS and LWJ friendship. Subtle and maybe people other than their big brothers don't see it and it shocks people when they find out. Mostly Canon compliant?

Associates - Part 3 - ao3, pt 1, pt 2

In the end, it was Lan Wangji who went to get Wei Wuxian, rather than wait patiently for him to return of his own free will as he had originally intended.

It had been Nie Huaisang’s idea, after nearly a year of Wei Wuxian travelling – they’d never actually pursued the jealousy idea he’d initially suggested on account of it being a terrible idea, Lan Wangji’s temporary moment of insanity in even considering it aside. It had come up seemingly apropos of nothing, one day when the two of them were working together in Lan Wangji’s study, Lan Wangji filling out the paperwork in his graceful handwriting as Nie Huaisang flittered around solving problems – he preferred pacing as he thought, which perhaps explained his reluctance to work on documents despite his beautiful calligraphy, and all the marching around made him, in some moments, look remarkably like his elder brother, something Lan Wangji deliberately refrained from ever mentioning.

“You need to go pick him up,” Nie Huaisang had suddenly said, in between planning out the next discussion conference and explaining why a seemingly minor dispute regarding shifting the boundary line near the Yuncheng Bao sect by a single li could have catastrophic consequences for the Jin sect’s long-term stability. “I know you’re afraid of giving the impression that you’re trapping him and restraining his freedom, but that’s your problem, not his. He wants to be asked.”

“Does he?” Lan Wangji had asked, finishing the sentence he was on and putting down the brush. Some things took priority above night-fishing rights near a contained Waterborne Abyss, no matter the new head of the Laoling Qin sect might think.

“Mm, yes. He’s been taking a lot of night hunts in the immediate vicinity of Gusu, close but never too close…Lan Zhan, he’s hinting that he wants you to chase him.”

“Pride?”

“A bit, maybe? Mostly I think it was his position in Yunmeng Jiang, where the former Sect Leader Jiang wanted him and Madame Yu didn’t, so his status was always that slightest bit uncertain. Here and now, he wants to know that he’s really welcome…don’t give me that look! He knows he’s welcome, you’ve made that clear, but making you be the one to ask is just another way to ensure that it’s actually true.”

And so Lan Wangji had gone to where he’d heard that Wei Wuxian was night-hunting, flying down on Bichen when he saw him walking with Lil’ Apple along a mountain path – he called his name, and Wei Wuxian had turned and smiled…

Wei Wuxian had come back with him.

More than that – he’d kissed him, he’d said he was staying with him, he’d agreed to marry him, to live their life together from then on.

They were officially engaged now, the auspicious date having been selected, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling having demanded roles on the side of the bride – Wei Wuxian briefly protested being the bride, then realized that he was marrying into the Lan sect and promptly reversed course, announcing that he wanted all the trappings of being a bride, excluding the dress – and life was very, very good.

Unfortunately, a couple of weeks was about as long as the cultivation world could hold off on needing its Chief Cultivator to be more than part time – he’d done a lot of the work in the mornings while Wei Wuxian was still asleep or when he was busy, and of course he had the system of delegation that Nie Huaisang had constructed for him and naturally Nie Huaisang himself helping out through his letters – and regretfully, Lan Wangji had had to return his full focus to his duties.

At first, it didn’t mark that much of a change: Wei Wuxian would bring projects of his own and they would work side by side, Lan Wangji already accustomed to the presence of another through all the work he’d done with Nie Huaisang, and Lan Wangji insisted that Wei Wuxian go out regularly with the juniors for night-hunts even if he himself could not. It all seemed fine, except only that Lan Wangji had the distinct feeling that he was missing something important.

It was only when the first big issue came up – a serious dispute between two small sects – that Lan Wangji realized what that was.

He sent a message to the Unclean Realm and waited.

Nie Huaisang arrived at the Cloud Recesses at the exact time one might expect if Nie Huaisang had received the message and left at once at top speed, accounting for the relatively slow pace he had when flying as a result of his mediocre cultivation.

Letter still crushed in his hand, he swept into the jingshi in his usual manner, all high drama and flash, wailing, “Lan Zhan! You betrayed me! You, of all people! My oldest friend!”

Lan Wangji, who had been expecting this, rolled his eyes.

Wei Wuxian, sitting in the desk he’d claimed as his own, looked up, startled. “Nie Huaisang?”

“Oh, hi, Wei Wuxian, congratulations on your engagement, has Lan Zhan shown you the present I sent? Probably not, he never does – Lan Zhan! Don’t think I’m letting you distract me with Wei Wuxian! You answer for this right away!”

He waved the crumbled letter at Lan Wangji.

“There is nothing to explain,” Lan Wangji said. “I requested your assistance in my capacity as Chief Cultivator.”

“You called me a spineless, gutless coward!”

Wei Wuxian made a choking sound.

“I sought to accurately characterize your recent behavior,” Lan Wangji said, and noted that Wei Wuxian’s choking noises got worse, although he did not actually appear to be in need of air. “Do you object?”

(There was something about Nie Huaisang’s company that reminded Lan Wangji irresistibly of being a child again, he had found, and it was only recently that he had begun to remember that as a child he had once had a tendency to bite. A pleasant rediscovery, even if the sharpness of his teeth were now expressed via paper and ink rather than through physical attacks.)

“You were the one who took a month off,” Nie Huaisang complained, a blatant lie given that Lan Wangji had been on partial duty for no more than two weeks, but dropped into his usual place at Lan Wangji’s side obediently enough. “Lan Zhaaaaaaan, don’t make me do work –”

Lan Wangji was going to say something about how it wasn’t like Nie Huaisang was doing any less work by doing his part in the Unclean Realm rather than being physically present in Gusu for consultations, he was just doing it less efficiently, but that was when Wei Wuxian coughed into his hand.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he said, with too much formality, but Nie Huaisang waved his hands at him querulously, clearly disapproving, and his shoulders relaxed a little. “Ah – Nie Huaisang. Since when do you call Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan? I thought you called him Lan-er-gongzi?”

“Oh, no, it’s been Lan Zhan since I was – what, seven or so?” Nie Huaisang said. “I wasn’t joking about him being my oldest friend, you know. We were just fighting back then, when you came for the lectures.”

Wei Wuxian blinked rapidly and turned to look at Lan Wangji, who nodded in confirmation.

They’d failed each other rather thoroughly back then, neither one being there for the other when they could have been. Nie Huaisang had not been wrong to observed that simply because he had always been free and open with his affections, Lan Wangji had assumed they would always be there to be resumed at a later time, without any need for maintenance – playing hot and cold, offering and receiving comfort and support at certain times, totally distant at others…it wasn’t until much later, when Lan Wangji emerged from seclusion, that he had needed Nie Huaisang again, and realized what he’d lost in the blank and disinterested glance of the boy he’d once thought of as his friend, who now seemed to visit the Cloud Recesses only in search of his elder brother.

They’d spoken in those intervening years, but it had always been light, superficial. Lan Wangji could have reached out a hand at that time, sought to resume their relationship, but he was consumed with his own grief, his own troubles, and out of respect for the face of his sect he had refused to share them; perhaps if he had, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have done what he had done, would have relied upon him instead.

Perhaps things would have been very different.

It wasn’t until he’d finally swallowed his pride to ask Nie Huaisang for help with the overwhelming work of being Lan sect leader and Chief Cultivator both that they had broken through that distance once more. It had been difficult at first, readjusting their long-lost patterns to their adult behaviors, but they had slowly but surely fallen into a comfortable dynamic that suited them both.

“I had no idea,” Wei Wuxian said blankly. “You spend much time together?”

“Nie-xiong assists me in my duties,” Lan Wangji interjected before Nie Huaisang could spout something stupid about eloping, as he was sometimes wont to do. “He has been critical in ensuring that I am not overwhelmed.”

Wei Wuxian mouthed ‘Nie-xiong’, but what he said was, “You, Lan Zhan? Overwhelmed?”

Lan Wangji nodded. “My brother went into seclusion,” he explained. “As sect heir, I became responsible for the duties of sect leader of the Lan sect, and I had also accepted the post of Chief Cultivator.”

“And he didn’t have anyone else to help, so he came to me,” Nie Huaisang said cheerfully, ignoring how Wei Wuxian’s eye twitched. “I hope you don’t mind. It was very convenient a trade: I know plenty of things about being a sect leader – more than you’d think, I swear! – and Lan Wangji, as Chief Cultivator, can help me whenever someone tries to make something out of that awful business last year.”

There had been a few unfortunate sequelae to those events. Nie Huaisang’s role had never been officially confirmed, but somehow word had gotten out regardless and sects throughout the cultivation world were looking at Nie Huaisang in suspicion – less out of concern for Jin Guangyao, although there were a few that had especially benefited from his rule that were disappointed, than with an eye towards the future. The wise ones were afraid of his patience and planning, but far more were simply greedy, looking for a chance to finally uproot the notorious Headshaker now that his best protection, his brother’s two sworn brothers, were not there to defend him.

As he had promised, Lan Wangji had defied any attempts by others to do anything of that sort.

As he had promised, he would not change his mind or withdraw his support, no matter what Wei Wuxian said.

His shoulders tensed as Wei Wuxian looked over at him, his expression thoughtful. “I’m going to need to talk to Jiang Cheng,” he remarked, seemingly unrelatedly, and then said, “Well, I trust Lan Zhan’s judgment.”

Nie Huaisang had covered his face with his fan and was looking over it at Wei Wuxian. “You do? And here I thought you didn’t associate with evil…”

“Those are from Lan Zhan’s sect rules, not mine,” Wei Wuxian declared. “If he doesn’t judge you to be evil, who am I to say otherwise?”

Nie Huaisang smiled.

“We should talk more, sometime,” Wei Wuxian continued. “And hey, Nie-xiong, I don’t know if you still collect those books –”

“Oh, of course, Wei-xiong!” Nie Huaisang said enthusiastically. “Though you don’t need to ask for them from me. Lan Zhan’s built up quite a collection over the years.”

Lan Wangji sighed, even as Wei Wuxian spun to look at him with a predatory look in his eyes, not unlike a sighthound that had just fixed on its prey. “You do?”

“Nie-xiong has gifted me with many art pieces over the years,” Lan Wangji admitted. His ears felt as though they were on fire; they were undoubtedly red. “You may peruse them at your leisure.”

“At our leisure,” Wei Wuxian murmured, his eyes deeply intent. “I can’t wait to see what spring books you like best, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji averted his eyes, feeling hot.

Nie Huaisang giggled and snapped his fan shut. “You don’t want to see the art I sent, Wei-xiong, trust me,” he cackled. “You want to see the pieces. Just ask!”

Wei Wuxian grinned and shook his head. “I think that’s a private discussion! Anyway, I’m going to go talk to Jiang Cheng – you two work on your Chief Cultivator stuff.”

“Your insight would be welcome,” Lan Wangji said, but Wei Wuxian waved a casual hand.

“Later, later,” he said breezily. “I don’t know either of those sects, I couldn’t possibly say anything intelligent – maybe next time you have a question. I look forward to working with you, Nie-xiong.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Lan Wangji watched them smile at each other – still a little wary, but both clearly willing to attempt a renewal of their own friendship, even after everything – and his heart felt light.

The only thing, he reflected, that would make this perfect would be if Lan Xichen came out of seclusion.

But with Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and Nie Huaisang on the job, they’d be sure to figure out a way to do that soon enough.

He was sure of it.

[sennextheassasinkingoflight]

Firelight

Gerlion Rated T and up for minor swearing and minor nudity.

Also, I'm sorry I'm bad at technology and I've only got mobile and they updated it and I dont know/can't figure out how to put a read more break in.

Geralt and Dandelion reunite after a long time apart. Its fluff, complete fluff. They're so soft with one another.

This lovely piece was inspired by art created by @johix with permission I'll figure out how to link it. But I recommend checking out all the art.

It had been nearly nine months since he last saw his bard. It wasn't unusual for their paths to cross and diverge like the threads of a tapestry twinning around one another; close but never consistantly together. Dandelion was often called away to court, to Oxenfurt, or some festivity or other and he always went where he was wanted. Geralt never stopped him; though he often wanted to reach out, grab a slender and deceivingly muscled arm and say, "stay you're wanted here more than they want you anywhere else." But his lips stayed stubbornly shut as he watched the blond ride away on his muleish stead. He would turn his back and tend to the nearest contracts he could find. At first he'd been glad for the others departures, now they left him aching in a way he feared to define. So he would focus on his work, on the Path and push all thoughts of the Bard away until he was alone with inky night and moonlight for company. Then and only then he would wonder what his friend was doing.

This year he had been eager to get back on the path and left the keep far to early. The others had warned him but he was restless, concerned even. He hadn't heard anything from the bard in the three months leading into winter. It was May now. Summer had yet to grace the continent and snow continued to stick stubbornly to her. He hadn't made it to town, and that was okay. He was freezing but he'd dealt with worse. He stoked the fire up and leaned against the tree behind him. He flexed his fingers in his gloves to keep them from growing stiff.

He knows he should have found a cave or some other shelter but he'd been loath to leave the road. The more time he spent on it the more likely he was to run into Dandelion. Instead he began to meditate and wrinkled his nose at the scent of rain permeating the air. He hoped it would hold off until the morrow. He didn't mind rain when he didn't need to be out in the path. Meaning, he liked the rain if he was cooped up in an inn with Dandelion. He always tried to keep him from getting sick, despite the need to be on the oath. But tonight he wasn't in an inn with Dandelion. He was in forest clearing bustled against a dry spot beneath a tree with snow and ice all around him. The thought of being at a warm inn with his musician made his chest ache desperately. Slowly he managed to meditate. Meditation turned to sleep as soon as he chose to lie down in his bed roll. Roach shifted to his left to keep herself warm but never went far.

 

He woke cold and stiff to blue grey light. If he were a normal human and not so fucking cold he'd have probably rolled over and gone back to sleep. But instead he was a witcher and rain scented heavier on the air. That alone is enough to incline him to get a move on with the day. Carefully he stood rolling his joints, they cracked and popped at the movement sore from the last hunt and the cold. He breathed through his nose and set about feeding Roach. Then he turned to begin gathering his supplies. His heart jumped in his chest at the sound of distant music. There was a troupe, if the noise was anything to go by, traveling up the road. They were a ways off and he couldn't make out individual instruments yet. The music was to far away. Still, he forced himself to slow and methodically work through packing everything up at a more subdued pace. He had no way of knowing if Dandelion was with them, but he hoped he was. It was safer for the trabedour to travel with a group and more to his and the bards liking as well.

Satisfied that the group would catch up if he kept Roach to a walk he rejoined the road. This way he would be far enough ahead not to bother them, and close enough that if Dandelion was with them he'd be able to see him. He kept Roach at a careful pace and she seemed content to meander. His coin purse was currently full at his side, and the season was early. He could dally a little. Still he wondered at the futility. It would have been better to write to Oxenfurt or go himself. They would know where to find the poet. He listened as the music drew closer. There were several lutist. Which he could say wasn't uncommon as it was one of the preferred bardic instruments. He strained his ears none the less, Toruviels lute had a specific sound and he was well aquanited with it. He smiled and forced himself not to turn back towards the musicians. He was a witcher, he'd scare them off. He slowed Roach as much as possible. And then he heard it, the stutter of a chord gone off tune and forgotten. They way it would if he complimented the musician while he was playing. He always made the best faces.

"Geralt." He kept Roach moving, gripping the reigns hard in anticipation. Then he heard the murmurs of surprise as Dandelion ran ahead and called out,

"Geralt of Rivia, you gigantic oaf, I know you can hear me!" The indignant tone of Dandelions voice pulled him over the edge of his little game and he stopped. His heart beating a little faster, a little stronger than it ought, as it always did around the poet. He dismounted his horse and held out one hand to give or receive a hug. Something he was growing accustomed to doing with Dandelion. The bard rushed forward unabashed and wrapped his arms, one hand still holding his lute firmly, around Geralt and squeezing with all his strength. Geralt returned the favor, one armed, the other still outstretched to hold Roaches reigns.

The hug lasted longer than it ought to have, and then some. When they finally came apart Geralt raised an eyebrow and absently reached a hand out to brush shoulder length blond curls. He smiled softly amusement curling in his stomach with something far more dangerous.

"What are these?"

"Curls Geralt. You've seen them before."

Dandelion notes with brightness in his eyes. Geralt is being very tender he thinks as he flicks his eyes to the hand still in his hair.

"I know. But I've never seen them on you before. Nobles. Whores. The like."

Geralt says simply and something like sadness tugs at Dandelions heart. He was prepared with a quip but it slips from his tongue and instead he whispers out a breathy,

"You don't like it."

He looks to the ground, body language changing. Geralt smells the acrid scent of disappointment on him almost instantly. Even if he hadn't he'd have realized his mistake. He brushes his hand down and catches the lutists chin pushing it up and then dropping his hand to his shoulder. They have an audience.

"That's not what I said, nor is it what I meant, Dandelion. Introduce us?"

The poets meets his eyes and blinks. Right. Okay. He smiles,

"There isn't much to be said in introduction. I only met this lovely group last night. I don't even know all their names yet."

A short brunette in bright colors hands him his geldings reigns. They know he won't be continuing with them.

The brunette nods to Geralt and speaks softly,

"It was a pleasure to play music with you master Dandelion."

And with that the group turns down the path to the right. Geralt must have worked hard to time it so he'd be seen before they had a chance to turn down the other path. Though Dandelion would not have gone that way anyways.

Geralt looks him up and down again and and he flushes under the scrutiny and then speaks through a genuine smile.

"What is that on your face?"

He nearly reaches up to brush his hands against the white beard. He refrains barely as Geralt does it himself. He's fairly certain the man had forgotten all about it.

"Left the keep early this year. It's warmer like this."

Then he watches Geralt glare at the sky and take a deep breath.

"You'll want to put that in it's case. Smells like rain."

Dandelion moves quickly to follow his instruction and nearly jumps when thunder claps across the mountain range. He shivers and mounts Pegasus.

"Where to?"

Gerlat hesitates a moment. He shouldn't be caught off gaurde but he is. It's always this easy with Dandelion. Easy in a way it has never been with Yennefer, or with anyone else. It's natural almost to the point of being dangerous. He knows that Dandelions will follow him anywhere. Hen wont ask questions, but will walk beside him loyal and true.It eases something in his heart to see the other man beside him again. He settles something in him the way Yennefer never did. He realizes Dandelion is looking at him with raised eyebrows and a cheeky grin.

"That glad to see me?"

He swallows and clears his throat ignoring the second question.

"There is a village up ahead. If you're mule moves fast enough we may make it before the rain gets bad."

Dandelion laughs and the remnants of tension in him depart. They ride in companionable silence for a while before he asks,

"What are you doing all the way out here? The roads and weather are hardly fit for traveling, even for me."

He glances over and meets pools of bright blue sky. The poet is quiet for some time and it's only broken by the wind picking up around them and whispering through the woods as boughs bend beneath its force. The rain comes next and Dandelion finally speaks. Geralt remains facing forward carefully neutral.

"I hadn't heard anything about you in months. I had no idea if you even made it to Kaer Morhen. So, I thought to myself, Dandelion if you get closer to the keep you might hear something. Now, here I am hoping to find out if you're still alive. Figured being close would increase my chances of running into you too. And I suppose it worked."

He seems almost embarrassed Geralt thinks. Only embarrassment isn't an emotion he's ever seen on the musician. He was shameless and full of mirth. He felt deeply, certainly had had bouts of sorrow at times. But embarrassment… no this had to be something else. He seemed sombre. Almost sad as he fell into a silence that meant his thoughts had hold of him. Geralt shook his head, grateful when Dandelion did not ask him the same. Unfortunately he fell unusually quiet, normally he would grumble or speak his thoughts allowed. The silence upset him and he could sense the poet growing morose and gave him some space until he noted the bards teeth chattering. He looked miserable, lips pushed together to keep his teeth from chattering, curls gone limp with the rain. His fingers were probably just as cold as Geralts own. He slowed Roach.

"Wheres your cloak?"

" Forgot to pull it out of my bag."

He laughs. Gerlat could kick himself for not reminding the bard, but then, he was a grown man. Still the thought of him sick…. Absently he removed his outer cloak and handed it over. It wouldn't do to much now but it was a kind gesture none-the-less.

"Geralt, no sense in both of us being cold."

He simply cast Dandelion a withering glance and the trabedour smiled as he took the cloak. Geralt returned to his normal speed and missed the way Dandelion smiled into the fur and breathed deep. He almost missed the whispered "thank you" as well, but the wind carried it to his ears and he held it close.

By the time they passed through the archway of a sleepy little village he didn't know the name of, Dandelion was shivering from the cold. It had started as a thunderstorm and quickly devolved into a snowstorm. And while he had already been soaked through he was grateful for Gerlat's cloak around him. Though he was sorry too. He knew how cold Geralt often got, likely from having a slower heart rate.

They made their way with practiced ease to the local inn. Dandelion watched in slight awe as Geralt made arrangements with the matron. She had known his name, no one had so much as even batted an eye at the witcher. He shivered and tried to focus on keeping his feet warm.

The matron knew the witchers who passed this way every spring and winter. She'd been quiet young when Geralt had first met her, now she was a mother who had aged kindly.

"I'll have the boys tend to your horses. Jason's getting a fire going for you. He'll bring up some more wood in a bit."

As if on queue, summoned by his name, he came around the corner of the desk and nodded at her before heading out the back door. She smiled and handed Geralt the key. "Go on go get warm before your friend catches a cold "

"Thank you."

He handed the key to Jaskier who moved quickly forgetting his bag in his rush to get himself and his lute dry. Geralt smiled a toothy grin and shook his head shifting his own bags to gather Dandelions.

"Oh dear, I had better ask, will you be going out for supper or shall I bring some up when it's ready?"

" If it wouldn't be any trouble. And maybe a demijohn?"

She winked,

"Vodka?"

"Please."

"No problem, off you go. He's waiting."

He would have blushed if his biology allowed it. There was something about the way she looked between them and spoke that made Geralt feel vulnerable.

He followed damp footprints to their room and stepped in the door left slightly ajar. Dandelion had already hung his cloak up and stripped out of his shirt and boots, and was currently putting his lute on the chair a good distance from the fire to draw out any moisture.

"Finally Geralt! I was half naked before I realized I forgot them. And the fire was so nice I couldn't bare to go back and get them. What kept you?"

He stepped back as the bard reached for his bags and started removing his armor. He shook his head,

"Supper arrangments." He says simply.

"Then were staying in?"

"Yes."

"Excellent!" He watches the musician swap a change of clothes for his night clothes.

Although he was fairly dry beneath his armor and cloak Geralt was freezing. He removed his boots and looked up only to freeze. Breath stilling in his lungs as he swallowed tightly. He followed bare leg, muscled and lean, from floor to hip, over the curve of the poets ass, over the dip of his back and up the curve of his shoulders. He let out a breath and pointedly averted his eyes. His armor needed cleaning, he was sure of it.

He hadn't thought it possible to make Geralt uncomfortable at this point. But what he'd seen out of the corner of his eye told him otherwise. Though he'd only caught him looking away. He could have looked for a moment, or minutes he'd never know. Slowly he dressed in his sleepwear. The fire had been nice against his skin and he hadn't wanted to dress damp. You got sick when you did that. He dried his hair out with a thin towel from his pack. He'd need to replace that. He made his way back over to Geralt as he pulled his shirt on.

"The fire is nice." He says gently as he sits beside him. Geralt looks up at him from his armor and nods. They stare at one another for a moment then Geralt speaks.

"You seemed upset earlier. Was it just the weather?"

Oh. He wants to lie but he would never. Besides, Geralt can read him like a book, never mind the enhanced witcher senses. He'd never stand a chance. Instead he looks away, towards the crackling fire and let's silence reign while he thinks through what he means to say. The truth but not all of it. Just enough. The only noise is the wind rustling the shutters against the walls and the gentle crackling of the fire.

"I wouldn't know." He starts voice gentle and far away. "If you died. I wouldn't know. And if I ever did find out it would be from some rumor in a tavern passed through far to many drunken mouths to hold much truth. There's no one to tell me if you die while I'm not there Geralt. And that… scares me a little. I worry for you and it would pain me to never know or to find out so late. And know that I'll never know the truth of what happened." He looks to the witcher now and meets molten sun with ocean depths.

"But," he continues, "we're both here now. No sense in dwelling on something like that."

Something shifts in Geralts face like he wants to argue. He's already working out some way to change the topic so he doesn't give himself away. He loves the man next to him that's why it scares him. The knock comes loudly from the door and he moves to open it grateful for the matrons timing.

He smiles and opens the door wide.

"Thank you." He says to both the matron and her husband as he drops wood near the hearth and she places supper and a flagon of something on the table.

"No problem. Enjoy, its roast." With that they leave them to their dinner and Dandelion is grateful for the distraction. Geralt joins him at the table but neither speaks.

Geralt presses his lips together. What Dandelion said nearly ruins his appetite. He won't press but it makes his gut twist to think of the pain his friend would be in. The agony of not knowing. Though those same thoughts run through his head when he doesn't keep them in check. He knows if anything happens to his poet there would be hell to pay. He shakes his head and focuses instead on eating. The quiet of the room is unsetteling. They should be talking, reminiscing about their time apart and it's almost grating that he can't move past the last conversation. But then Dandelion uncorks the vodka and pours them both a generous amount. He hands a cup to Geralt and raises his own.

"To reunions." Geralt smiles and clinks their glasses together. Grateful that they're falling into their rhythm.

Dandelion asks how the winter went and Geralt sighs. It's always the same. His brothers are great but he always find himself missing his poets softness and sound. He wont say this of course. He wont say he lays awake wondering what he's doing in Oxenfurt. Who hes with. If hes happy. He won't admit that loneliness creeps in on him when they're apart, that he misses pulling the bard close to his chest when they sleep.

Instead he tells him that they repaired the battlements, the walls, the stables. That Vesimir had made them clean and catalogue the library. The library he knows Dandelion wants to see and would have to be forcably removed from and he knows that the poets only joking when he says "you'll have to show me one day" but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to grab him by the wrist and take him there. He talks of training and running the trail with Lambert and Eskel like they did when they were young.

"And what of you Dandelion? How was your winter?" The musician smiles and takes a drink straight from the bottle.

"Boring Geralt. This bach of students don't care. They have no heart and less inspiration. It's like they're only there to please their parents or something. To mingle. They don't care about learning what the truth behind folk tales are or why they're wrong. The composition courses are a bit better I suppose," another drink, his face flushes pink in the flickering light of the fire," at least they can make things rhyme even if it's meaningless. And it was so lonely Geralt. I missed traveling. I know it's better for my purse, retirement, and the like to work straight in the winter and travel in the summer months but honestly, I regret it this winter. Not that I could have traveled much alone."

He's rambeling now and Geralt loves it. Loves listening to him talk about nothing and everything. The way his face goes soft and his eyes grow bright and he can only be described as whimsical. How his voice dances always lulling and pulling him in. He takes the vodka and drinks a long pull from the bottle, he shouldn't let Dandelion have much more if they want to start out early. Though if the storm keeps up they might be stuck a few days.

He acknowledges the ard with a soft hum as he gets up to stoke the fire and add a few logs. It's gotten late. He makes his way back towards the bed and brushes his hand down the poets shoulder and his arm before passing on. He crawls to the far side of the bed and waits wondering if he'll understand the invitation and join him or take the other bed. He hopes that the Dandelion understood the gesture. The poet stands and looks at him.

Dandelion takes a breath to steady himself. There are two beds and he desperately wants to join Geralt, help him stay warm, bury his face against his chest, breath in leather and earth and musk. He blinks looking at Geralt for any sign of what he's supposed to do and just as its growing uncomfortable long in his slightly tipsy mind Geralt reaches out and hand and he knows he's wanted.

"It's cold."

Geralt offers quietly as he shuffles under the blankets next to him. He needn't have bothered Dandelion doesn't need an excuse. But if it makes him feel more comfortable he'll roll with it even as it feel like lead on his chest. He rolls onto his side and buries his face into the blankets between them. The bed is small for two but they'll make it work, they always do. He watches as Geralt lounges beside him thinking about how beautiful he is with shadows dancing against his skin as hes bathed in firelight alone. Then Geralt sits up so abruptly and swallows so that Dandelion joins him instantly.

"Is everything alright Geralt?"

"Yes. Just. Don't move."

And he laughs gently, breath coming out calmer now. He catches the way Geralts throat bobs as he swallows and the shadows dance across his throat. He both wants to kiss it and compose about it. Instead he shifts a leg underneath himself and leaves the other outstretched. He's not sure what's going on but he will do as told. But then Geralt moves and lays his head in his lap and when he looks down comatose pools of cooling gold meet his own cobalt depths and his breath catches. He stutters in another one and then smiles fondly. Geralts eyes flutter shut and he can't help himself as he places a hand in white hair and runs his fingers through it. He's certain it's been months since he had physical contact that wasn't violent.

He doesn't hum or sing. This moment is precious. It will be locked in his heart, witnessed only by the firefight and remembered in the lonliest of winter nights. But then Geralt looks at him again so he smiles softly and starts to open his mouth but theres a hand in limp gold locks by his face and he stops. Heart rate picking up, but not in fear and distantly he knows Geralt knows the ways he's affecting him. But he makes no move to pull away even as the calloused hand in his hair moves up to cup the back of his head and pull him down. Instead he closes his eyes and smiles. The kiss is everything he imagined it would be and then some.

[just-mirko]

 BINARY  

BNHA HACKER AU - CHAPTER 6

MASTERLIST

Mirko x F!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Me calling out all of you readers as bottoms.

WC: 2.1K

--

She gazed at my face with indistinguishable emotion. Her teeth were barred in a mix between a grimace and a smile. The blood that was smeared beneath her mouth where I had injured her; the red blood matched her wild eyes.

“I win,” She said quietly...

--

             Her breathing was slowing, though I still could not distinguish between each of our pants. Blood rushed to my head, making me feel hot, cold, and everything in between. My gaze was fixated on the small stream of blood making its way down her chin, next to where the previous blood had been smeared in a weak attempt to get it off her face. Looking up from the corner of her lip, our eyes met, and for a second, we both stilled. The ringing in my ears got remarkably silent. I could only image the same was happening for her.

             The corner of my lips tugged into a small smile and her grip on my wrists weakened the slightest bit, letting blood flow back into my aching fingertips. My muscles relaxed a small amount, no longer having to strain to keep them from being stretched too much.

             A small pause was shown in her features. For a moment Mirko seemed open and free. It was a short second though, and that look glazed back over. I was met with the same eyes I always saw behind the silver mask.

             She rolled from atop me with a thud and laid on the sparring mat next to me. Her presence was quiet, but reassuring: slightly cocky as well, seeing as she totally wiped the floor with me. The only good hit I managed to get was a throw towards her jaw, and even then, she only flinched when it drew blood. Even on the hard mat my limbs felt like jello as I melted into the floor. Oh, what I would give to just fall asleep right now. I have not been that active in so long. Our fight was less than 5 minutes but was so filled with movement and pain that my energy drained quick.

             “Has everyone completed their first match?” I heard Nezu say. To me, it felt like I was hearing it from underneath 10ft of water. Falling into the deep end.

             “Yea” A chorus of voices responded, some sounding worse for wear than the others. Mine was one of the worse ones. The back of my throat was scratchy. Some other students brought water bottles with them, but I hadn’t even brought mine to the academy.

             I guess I should buy a new one later. I silently noted.

             I sat up, into a crossed leg position on the mat. My back instantly slouched over from the soreness in my muscles. Staying upright was a struggle.

             “Well…” Nezu began, his finger tapping his lips. -Nose? I do not know mouse terminology- as he pondered the next words to say. “Your matches weren’t  terrible I guess, but it was far from proficient.”

             I was dazed and looking around at the other students. A smirk could not help but make its way onto my face when I saw that hawks was missing one of the larger feathers on his wing. One feather we even stuck in the ceiling. Ha! He constantly gazed back up at it, willing it to fall down, but It was wedged there.

             “Some of you have sustained a few bruises, and sores, do you have any injuries that require immediate attention?” He asked, scanning the room looking for students in pain When his gaze landed on Mirko.

             “Are you still bleeding?” He asked inquisitively. He knew it wasn’t a major injury, but whatever he had planned next wouldn’t suit well if she just kept spilling her red blood cells everywhere.

             “(Y/N)” Nezu called cheerfully with a slightly mischievous undertone.

             “Take her to the common room, there is a first aid kit near the doors in. Do try and help her with a band aid or two.”

             I was about to speak up when he beat me to it,

             “You wont miss anything, we will just be giving feedback on the fights that happened with everyone’s partners.”

             I looked towards Mirko. She brought a finger up to her face and rubbed her lip lightly, checking for blood. It came back red. The liquid was seeming to slow down though, but the amount of slowly drying blood smeared across her jawline and dribbling down her neck wasn’t a good look. Well god, it did look really hot on her, but I could imagine the taste of iron was something she wanted to get out of her mouth.

             Gesturing her head towards the door, Mirko stood up lightly. Her recovery was amazing. So soon after a fight and she was already as energetic as ever.

             She reached out to me and I took her hand, when she pulled me up, I could feel a few joints in me leg pop uncomfortably. The would definitely swell up a little by tomorrow.

             We walked through the exit doors silently, not wanting to disrupt the rest of the class more than we already had. The hallways were so dark compared to the bright penthouse training area lined with windows.

             The ride down the elevator was nothing short of awkward, I stood an arms distance apart in the corner, my head filled with so many thoughts that I could not translate into words.

             “I’m sorry for punching you like that” I sheepishly mumbled quietly. It’s my fault that she had to miss a portion of class. On the first day at that. I should’ve aimed for her shoulder or something.

             Her white ears twitched towards me.

             “Hey, it was a good punch Bunny, kind of deserved it after I pinned you that roughly... Hey are your wrists okay?” She said the last sentence quickly. Maybe she was afraid that got hurt.

             “I’m okay!” I quickly respond, moving my arms straight in front of me to show my hands. I rolled them a little to show each side and prove they were nothing more than a little red.

             I said with a smile, “They are barely sore anymore.”

             She took one of my hands and gently turned it over, looking at the join and checking for what I assumed was bruises. Satisfied that there were no injuries. She let out a small sigh, though she still held my hand carefully. The tips of her nails tickled lightly against my palm.

             Under my breath, in the lowest tone possible, I quietly admitted to myself.

             “Hey, it’s not like I didn’t like it”

             “Did you say something?” Mirko’s voice was eerily calm. Its not like she heard it though: she probably though it was just talking to myself.

             The elevator ride down to the common room ended when a small ding resonated into the metal box.  We stepped off and opened the large wooden doors.

             I told her to go sit down on the couch while I fished for the first aid kit.

             I found it in a small shelf under a box of medical tape and gauze.

             “Got it!”

             I walked towards Mirko, holding the box in my hands, wondering where to place it. I settled on the coffee table. Both of us were silent as I sat right next to her. I was not aware of how close I sat, until I turned to her, alcohol wipes in hand, less than a foot from her face.

             I froze in place and my heartbeat picked up. I took a gulp and gently took her face in my hand before beginning to remove some of the dried blood. I was nearly eye level with her chin when we were both sitting down, so it was easy to avoid eye contact. While I focused, I got into a sort of trance. I was trying to be as delicate as possible as to not reopen the cut, though some of the blood was tough to remove

             Once that was over, I just had to apply an antibiotic cream, then a band aid.

             I put a bit of the ointment on my thumb then placed my hand on both sides of her face to make sure she did not move. Carefully, I brushed the bottom of her lip with my thumb, making sure to get the wound, and a little bit of the area around it covered.  Her face was so warm under my touch, and soft too. Each small exhale made a little puff of warm air fan across the fingertips, sending shivers down my spine.

             Lastly, I unwrapped the band aid and positioned it over her face before tapping it down and making sure it stayed on.

             “How much do you know about rabbits (Y/N)?” Mirko’s voice was no louder than a whisper, and our faces were so close that every word she said was clear.

             “Not that much more than the average person.” Why was she saying this suddenly? Did she have magic healing powers with her quirk? Was she allergic to the ointment or something? Was she just being a pretentious little bitch like hawks?

             “You see bunnies have really good hearing.” Wait oh god. Did she hear me say that? Was that why-

             My mind quickly went to what I had said 5 minutes ago in the elevator.

-

             Under my breath, in the lowest tone possible, I quietly admitted to myself.

             “Hey, it’s not like I didn’t like it”

-

             “W-what do you mean by that Mirko” I said, and I could feel my face heating up. She noticed it too and chucked to herself. It was a deep rumbling sound that would have made me feel calm in any other situation.

             “Nothing, just thought you would want to know.” A grin was back on her face, flashing sharp canines, the last thing you would have expected on a rabbit quirk holder.

             “Hey, stop doing that you’re going to reopen the cut” I said and lightly punched her shoulder. I did not want all my work to go to waste. My hand went back up to the band aid on her face and my finger grazed the size of her lip.

             “My parents always kissed my boo boos (injuries) when I got hurt” Mirko said boldly, and my hand froze up next to her face. Was she implying. No. no no.

             I wasn’t going to kiss her. If It was on her hand maybe if she insisted but right under her lip… No (Y/N) pull yourself together.

             That cut was so close to her mouth and I could not I don’t. That would just be so embarrassing and I-

             “Hey (Y/NNNN), You spaced out a little bit” She teased.

             “N-no I-I can’t” Did she really have this effect on me? One second, I was bold and brash, but the second she calls me out on saying that I enjoyed having her top me. (If you are reading this fanfic this applies to you. Do not lie to yourself. We all want to be topped my Mirko).

             “Aww but how else will I get better” Her face tilted down towards me, and the slightest bit closer.

             “Just a little peck would make all the pain go away”

She was reading me like an open book. Pressing all my buttons. Everything I said she was right through. Oh she definitely deserved the punch.

             “I-“

             My voice stopped when I felt a light brush on my side next to the top of my hip bone. One of her hands was delicately just waiting there, barely making any movement. Maybe if I just leaned in, her fingertips would connect, trace gentle shapes in my side while-

             Both my hands were close to my chest. I was rubbing my fingertips together in a slight fidget though. All my anxiety was shown to her.

             Her other hand- her left hand- reached up towards my cheek, though she was not touching me, just like on my hip. She wouldn’t do a single thing till I did something first.

             With a tiny smile she remarked “I can hear your heartbeat.”

             “Why are you so scared?” She asked.

             Her nails contacted my hip and my check, though she still, wasn’t touching me.

             “Maybe you want me, to make the first move-“Her eyelids closed slightly while she looked down at me fondly.

             Each word I wanted to say did not come out. Because in my head, I was saying she was right.

[silvadraconis]

The Use of a Ghost

A little blurb I wrote of Silva, and dealing with some of the feelings of being a ghost in another's body Silva had been quiet the past few days, barely coming out, hardly even manifesting. During training she was there to lend Guada her power, but after the fact she faded to the background again. Guada tried a few times to talk to her, with not much response beyond an "I’m fine, don't worry about me" She didn't really know what to do anymore. Despite sharing a body, she was the furthest thing from being able to figure out what was wrong.

After about a week of this, Hektor comes to find them in their room, greeting Guada with an easy smile "Hey there you two, don't suppose you got time for this old man do ya?" Silva perks up a small bit from where she resides, nestled away, but doesn't speak "Guada can handle this, I'm not needed for this" Guada answers with a smile of her own "Of course! I'm just hanging out right now, what's up?" He comes in and sits down on the bed next to Guada "Well to be honest with you I was hopin to talk to Silva, had a few questions for her bout some training if that's alright?"

Guadas eyes flash with understanding "So that's why he's here, well, I wish you luck Hektor" She mentally nudges Silva, and reluctantly she uncoils from wherever she laid dormant inside of her, and comes to the surface Guadas hair subtly changes, then ends growing longer and lightning, and her eyes shift to the familiar brown of Silva as she takes over She looks at Hektor, not quite sure what he wanted "So, what questions did you have for me?" Silva notices with a bit of confusion how Guada fades into the back, cutting of herself so she can't hear "That's odd, why would she-"

Hektor looks at her with care and concern plain on his face "Well to be honest with you, I wanted to talk to you in particular. You've been awful quiet lately, and frankly it's startin to worry me a bit. So I wanted to sit you down and just, ask what's wrong, or at least talk to you a bit if you can't get yourself to say it"

Silva blanks for a minute "Oh no this is a trap, nopenopenope time to leave Guada your turn" Smiling at him she says "Hektor im fine, I'm just taking a breather is all, isn't that a normal thing to do?" Meanwhile she's frantically trying to force Guada back to the surface, with not much success, when did she get so good at that? "Silva, this is you we're talkin about, you and breathers are strangers, and even if you were taking one, it's been a quite long time for "just a breather". So don't try to lie to this old man, it wont work. What's wrong, honestly?" She looks down at her hands for a moment Not my hands not mine none of this is mine "It doesn't matter Hektor, I'm just here to help is all, I've been doing that just fine. If you have something to talk about training wise i'll answer your questions but other than that it doesn't matter. I'm just a ghost, it's not like i need to eat, or sleep, or any of that" Hektor sighs a bit with a soft smile at that, then scootches closer suddenly and picks her up and plops her in his lap "H-hey, Hektor what are you-" "Silva, you may be a ghost but that doesn't mean you are just here as a glorified mana battery, you have thoughts and wants and needs too, you're not just a combat accessory" She -not her not her body this isn't mine- freezes in his grasp He softly takes one of her -no guada’s not mine- hands in his "You can feel this yeah? My hand in you twos?" She responds flatly, desperately shoving down her feelings "It's not mine, its Guada’s. This body is hers, these hands are hers, I'm just a parasite who comes with a few benefits" He hugs her at that, fully pulling her into his embrace "You're no parasite, just cause you gotta borrow the body doesn't mean the feelings aren't yours, doesn't mean that you don't have needs and wants just like everyone else" She -whywhy this isn't mine why is it doing this??- shakes in his grasp at that a small bit Those emotions aren't getting put away, in fact they were starting to come full force to the surface despite her best efforts "But i’m-i’m just, it's not mine none of this is mine, it isn't right for me to have this" Why were there tears?  Hektor gently rests his head on top of hers -not hers, guada’s- "Your feelings are yours, you're allowed to want contact, to want food. Doesn't matter if you're a ghost. To be honest that probably means you need those things even morso. You're not a burden, you're our master and our friend, just like Guada. That's all there is to it" She starts crying in earnest now, and despite it being Guada's body, its her cry, its silent, quiet Hektor calmly holds her as she cries, gently holding her hands in his "You're just as much a person as the rest of us master, hell heroic spirits aren't really much more than fancy ghosts. Would you say we shouldn't eat? Shouldn't get a hug every now and then? We technically don't need all that after all, we're here to fight for you both, end of story" She shakes her head in protest "N-no, never but, I’m, it's different" He chuckles a bit, sensing her arguments are starting to lose their steam "Oh really? How so? Cause you don't have your own body? What about Lobo? Him and Hessian share a saint graph after all. Or Orion? He can't even fight without that wife of his" She sighs in frustration, the tears slowly stopping "You know that's not-not the same" He gently runs a thumb across the back of her hand "Well, may not be quite the same, but there's a lot of odd folks here in Chaldea, you're in good company master, that I can assure you" She can't even argue that After a moment she quietly says "I just want to help. I'm already such a trouble to keep track of, for command, for-for Count when I-" she shudders again He hugs her tighter "I can't imagine that being any sort of pleasant. Must be hard coming back from a place like that and feelin like a person again eh?" She shakes in earnest now It's been happening more and more frequently, her falling into that terrible place. And even her usual nightmares were being plagued by that horrid emptiness instead Suddenly she turns and hugs Hektor in earnest, trying to stave off more tears "Its, it shouldn't be, an issue for me I've, I've had worse" He hugs her back tightly "Just cause you've had worse doesn't mean that it isn't awful, that it isn't affecting you. You're not a burden Jade, not by a long shot. No ones gonna judge you for this, and if they even try you got plenty of people who will say something before you can even blink" he chuckles a bit as he hugs her, holding her steady Her name, her name A memento of what she was before She presses her forehead into his chest, choking back emotions "Do I, do I help though? Even with all this am I, am I able to help?" she asks almost desperately, for some reassurance that she's not just something to deal with He sighs a bit, debating on arguing that she doesn't need to help to be allowed to exist, to enjoy life. But she doesn't need that right now "You do, you help, hell you help a lot more than some of us that's for damn sure" he chuckles again then continues in a softer voice "You do Silva, you help, much more than this old man can say" She relaxes against him with a sigh of relief "Thank you Hektor, thank you" He hugs her tightly again for a moment before pulling back, giving her a hair ruffle "Of course master, now why don't we go get somethin to eat eh? I imagine it's been awhile for ya" he says with another chuckle and a warm grin She chuckles against him, then takes a deep breath "Yeah id-id like that" He smiles with a cheeky grin then stands, picking her up with him "Alright then master, lets go get something" "H-hey! Hektor! I can walk!!" He just chuckles as he carries his stubborn master to the cafeteria It wasn't fixed, not by a long shot, but he got her to laugh, at least a little

[shhh-no-ones-home]

hollywood horror chris motionless x reader

+++++++++ Request from anon "Comfort fic, him noticing it [depression] and being there or whatever comes to your mind. just a sweet fluff thing."

It's a little different, mostly what I would want when I'm feeling super depressed and shut off so I hope you don't mind. anyway thanks for requesting, i hope you like it.

Song: the haunting by as it is

tag list: @thisplace-ishaunted @ryansitkowskiswifey @alilpunkrock @theoneandonlykymberlee +++++++++

I sat on the couch and rocked back and forth. I couldn't find it in me to get up again so I'd been staring at the blank tv screen for a while. I looked down at my phone for a second and saw Chris's name pop up. I frowned at first thought, before picking it up. He had texted me asking if I wanted to do something today. It was almost his birthday and normally we went out but I wasn't sure I wanted to. Besides this probably wouldn't be what we did for his birthday, that I actually wanted to take time for but time was ticking. I texted him back to come over and I'd get ready, begrudgingly.

I walked slowly to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I was grateful I had showered last night so all I had to do was brush my hair through. It didn't take long but by the time it was brushed out it was frizzy and I had grown to hate what I was wearing too. I sighed and walked quickly to my room, throwing on a flowy dress and my vans. I looked in the mirror again and debated whether or not I actually liked it. Then there was a knock on my door. Guess it was too late to change now. When I swung the door open Chris was standing in front of me with two movie tickets in his hand. He frowned at me for a second, lowering his hand.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

He stepped forward and wrapped me in a big hug, looking down at me.

"Don't lie to me y/n."

I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"I'm fine Chris."

He squeezed me a little tighter.

"I know your not okay, but You will be when I'm done with you. I'm gonna turn that frown upside down for sure."

I raised a brow at him as he let me go.

"And how are you gonna do that?"

He grabbed my hand.

"Well for starters If we don't leave right now we'll be late."

He had the biggest smile on his face and was practically vibrating with excitement. I laughed a little at him before grabbing my bag off the floor and following him out to his car. I squinted at him, the sun in my eyes, before asking him what we were seeing.

"Get in and I'll tell you."

I rolled my eyes and did as told. He grinned at me, handing me the tickets amd pulling out of my driveway. When I read the title my eyes got wide.

"No way! I tried to buy these weeks ago and they were sold out."

He sent me a look before turning his gaze back to the road.

"Well I got them, I knew you'd want to go. I mean it's a new horror movie, who wouldn't? And Of course we had to go together."

I actually felt kind of excited now, we'd been talking about this movie forever. When we got to the theater he took his ticket from me and got out of the car, practically dragging me across the parking lot.

"Chris you're gonna take my arm off."

He let off a little bit.

"Sorry I'm just excited, I don't wanna Miss it. Plus I wanna see the commercials, the new James bond one is supposed to be playing."

I laughed at him as he held the door open for me.

"You and James bond."

He nodded at me.

"Yes me and James bond. I love him."

We stepped up to the ticket taker and handed them over.

"Theater ten to your left."

He said with a smile. We both thanked him and started in that direction. Then Chris stopped.

"Shit, I almost forgot."

I looked at him confused before he started walking towards the concession stand.

"Chris you just said we were gonna be late."

He sent me a look like I was crazy.

"First off yes we might be and second, something must really be wrong for you not to want an icee and pretzel bites. We always get them when we go to the movies."

I shrugged.

"Just not hungry I guess."

He sent me a look.

"We both know that's bullshit."

He stepped forward and ordered. I rolled my eyes at him as the guy behind the counter handed him two icee cups. He tried to hand me one but I was hesitant, I still wasn't sure I was up for it. He at least got me out of the house.

"Come on, if you don't drink it I will."

I sent him a look.

"Suit yourself."

I stood there, tapping my hand on the counter, watching as he stuck both straws in his mouth, drinking out of both of them. He made a face and nodded.

"Not a bad flavor combo."

Then he tried to hand me mine again and I took it this time.

"Fine, but you'd better let me try that first."

He handed me his cup and I did the same thing he did, sipping out of both straws at the same time. I made a gross face before swallowing hard.

"Yeah no, you can keep that."

He laughed at me as he took our pretzel bites from one of the theater employees.

"Come on, let's go or we'll miss it."

°°°°°°°°°

When the credits started rolling Chris and I both just stared at the screen. Our fingers were tightly interlocked and I wasnt sure I could actually get up yet. It was one of the scariest movies I'd ever seen and my heart was still trying to escape my chest. No wonder it sold out. Chris looked at me slowly and took a deep breath.

"Wanna go watch a kids movie now?"

I looked at him and let out a nervous laugh.

"Yeah actually but I think we could go home to do that."

He nodded and we both stood up at the same time, not letting each other's hands go. As we walked out of the theater we just kind of looked at each other.

"That was intense."

I said, shivering. He squeezed my hand.

"Definitely."

I looked up at him.

"So, what series of cartoons are we watching when we get back to my place?"

He laughed at me.

"All of them."

°°°°°°°°°°

When we walked into my house I was quick to start moving all my stuff off my couch. I was so focused on not dying during that movie it had completely slipped my mind that I probably shouldn't have offered to go back to my place. i hadn't cleaned in a while.

"Sorry for the mess."

I said as I took all my stuff back to my room. When I came back out Chris was knelt in front of my DVD shelf.

"I don't mind, you know that. Besides, with how down you seemed earlier im sure you have good reason."

He kept flipping through, pulling Brave out. He held it up.

"I don't think I've seen this one yet, wanna watch it?"

I shrugged and plopped down on the couch.

"Aw mom, it's just mah bowwww!"

I said drawn out in a terrible accent and he laughed at me.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He turned the TV on and put it into he DVD player, coming and falling on the couch next to me with the remote in his hand.

"Is it good?"

He asked, skipping through the commercials. I nodded.

"I think so."

He wiggled further into the couch, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and cuddling into me.

"So, now that we were scared shitless, and are watching something cute, how have you really been feeling?"

I looked up at him quizzically.

"What do you mean?"

He shifted.

"You looked so broken this afternoon when I picked you up. I didn't wanna pry cause I know sometimes getting you out and about makes you feel better but I kinda wanna know what was up. Now that you seem to actually be feeling better."

I frowned as he shifted next to me.

"Honestly I've been feeling a little stuck. Stuck in my own head and my own emotions. Every day is the same thing and I guess I feel better now cause you came and got me out of my rut. It was something different, something nice, no more of that groundhog day feeling."

He kissed the top of my head.

"You know I'll always be here to get you out of a rut right? You could have texted me when you first started feeling down and we could have gone and done something. ya know before it got worse."

I shrugged into him.

"Yeah but you always say that and I never follow through. You know that. I don't reach out, even when I need to most."

He ran his hand gently over my arm.

"You're right, and as long as you keep doing that, I'll keep showing up unannounced to drag you out of this house myself. if you wont make yourself feel better, i sure as hell will."

We both laughed a little.

"Thanks Chris, it really means a lot. You're the best friend I could ever even hope to ask for."

He offered me a small smile as he hit play on the movie.

"I'll always be here for you y/n, that's what best friends are for."

i hugged him into my side and he did the same.

"now, lets watch a girl turn her family into bears."

he looked down at me like i was crazy.

"im sorry, we're gonna what?"

i laughed at him.

"just watch the movie."

[kit-herondale-carstairs]

Kit Herondale at Pride

Super late for Pride month, but Pride is in late July in my hometown so still counts right?

Kit had been to Pride before. He had first gone when he was twelve and bored at home - his father was sleeping after a late night working and Kit had already watched enough television to set his eyes ablaze. It had rather been an accident, really. He had seen glimpses of the obnoxiously bright colors and exuberantly dressed people as he turned the television to to the news - his father always liked to watch it when he first woke up - and had thought it looked like fun. He hadn’t really known then, that he liked boys like he liked girls. He had just been young and attracted to the colors. He hadn’t interacted with anyone, either. Just walked around and observed everyone participating. The families had especially struck him - how happy they all seemed to be, all exuberant smiles and bright chatting while cheerful pop played in the background, so unlike his quiet home and his absent but simultaneously overbearing father. He had gone the next year, too, while his father was out meeting with a client and observed some more. 

It wasn’t until the third year, when he was fourteen, that he went to his first Pride knowing for sure that he was more than just a casual observer. That was the year Chris Evans debuted as Captain America and Kit was only a little bit embarrassed to admit that the skin-tight uniform he wore had prompted his great Bi-awakening. The festival took on even more significance to him that year and he watched all the families with a yearning he didn’t quite understand. He hadn’t told his father that he liked boys - hadn’t told him he liked girls either - but he knew his father wouldn’t care. Things like who someone wanted to sleep with hardly mattered to a man like his father, unless it could cause a scandal. He knew his father wouldn’t kick him out or try to ship him off to one of those shitty homophobic camps he’d read about on the internet so it really shouldn’t have mattered that he also knew his father would never take him to a festival like this; would never have let Kit go himself if he knew where he was. And he definitely shouldn’t have had to fight the ridiculous urge to cry when he saw a father drape the rainbow flag he’d just bought around the shoulders of his own teenage son. Such silly things really didn’t matter. 

Kit missed the next Pride parade - watching his father get ripped to pieces, learning that he was part of the super-powered, super-conservative group of holier-than-thou Shadowhunters his father always told him to stay away from, finding out they weren’t all actually that terrible and that he might actually want to be one, getting his heart broken while trying to stop one of the said Shadowhunters from committing necromancy, learning he was the product of some super forbidden love that happened decades ago and then fleeing the country he was born in to both avoid that and the boy who’d stomped on his heart had busied his schedule far too much to join in the annual festival. His new town was too small to have one of its own and London, which he learned had a truly enormous celebration after a quick interest search, was too far away to travel to on his own but Kit didn’t mind. The festival might have been one of his traditions, born of a lonely childhood, but it really didn’t matter that much to him. 

Or at least, that’s what he had been thinking when Tessa had come knocking on his door at some ungodly hour in July and told him to get dressed. Pride was the furthest thing on his mind when Jem ushered him into the back of the family car, Mina already snuggled securely into her car seat. Kit had hardly even registered how ironic it was that whichever parent had dressed Mina that day had put her in a little tutu skirt made of blue, pink, and purple-colored tule. He hadn’t understood what they were doing, exactly, and neither Tessa nor Jem answered his incessant questions, even as he purposely made them more and more annoying.

By the time they had arrived in London and Tessa had carefully parked in one of the parking garages that the British annoyingly insisted on calling “car parks” despite the lack of grass or playground equipment for the cars to play in as Kit was wont to point out when he was feeling particularly patriotic for the United States, Kit was thoroughly bewildered. Kit had noticed coming in that London was even more crowded than usual and the fact that they had to park in the topmost level of the garage, even though it was still early, set him on edge. He could hear music in the distance as he stepped out of the car and he turned to Tessa in confusion as Jem busied himself rescuing a squirming Mina from her seat. 

He peppered them with questions again as they began walking and received nothing but smiles in answer. The music grew louder, celebratory and cheerful, as they walked and Kit began to notice people walking with them, dressed in insanely bright clothing that was familiar to him in a way that set his heart beating faster. It had to be a coincidence - he was sure. Tessa must have heard of a new bookstore she wanted to check out - one of those that was built of old London wood and smelled like bergamot and musty books. Or perhaps Jem had discovered some traditional Chinese restaurant he wanted to take the family to - it was early, but Jem was old and older people tended to eat early. 

Kit had mentioned liking boys, briefly and in a deceptively offhanded way, one of his first days with Tessa and Jem before they had witnessed Magnus and Alec’s wedding, to test the waters. He knew that, despite their young looks, both of his guardians were well over a century old and might have been filled with all sorts of old ideas. He had known that just because both of them were friendly with Magnus didn’t mean they would accept someone living with them to have the same proclivities. But, to his hidden relief, Tessa and Jem had both accepted it with the same offhandedness that Kit had offered it. Then they had never spoken of it again, which hadn’t bothered Kit at all. It wasn’t like he wanted to think very much about liking boys - one in particular - anyway. 

It had been much the same way that Kit had imagined his father would have acknowledged it, had Kit ever gotten the chance to tell him. Kit had hardly been hurt about that, not when Jem and Tessa both went above and beyond his father in their attention to him on a nearly daily basis. He expected that they would accept whoever he brought home without question and be content to let the matter lie apart from that. He certainly didn’t expect them to go out of their way to take him to Pride, an event they had no connection to and where he didn’t image they would want Mina to be at. After all, he had occasionally seen some sights that were definitely not child-appropriate in his own forays to the Los Angeles festival and it would be much worse for a baby. 

No, it was just a coincidence that they had decided to go to London on the day of Pride, Kit was sure. And he didn’t mind that, not really. Even as his heart clenched at the familiar sight of people dressed head to toe in the colors of their orientation, mulling around a temporary gate as they waited to be allowed into the main event. 

He didn’t understand, at first, why Jem, who had Mina strapped to his chest in a baby carrier and was seemingly oblivious to the appreciative looks they were getting, led their group to the brightly dressed crowd in front of the gates. Then, Kit realized Jem must be curious about what was going on - he was slowly becoming accustomed to the modern world without the blanket of indifference every Silent Brother had but Pride was probably not something high on his list of things to learn, especially because no Shadowhunters, as far as Kit knew, participated in the celebration. Maybe Alec did, with Magnus and their sons, but Aline and Helen had been stuck in some Russian cesspit for years and Kit thought it equally unlikely that there was Pride in Faerie for Mark to participate in. And it simply didn’t seem like the type of scene that attracted straight Shadowhunters like it did mundanes. Not with their long-held and only just now changing prejudices. Jem was probably just trying to figure out what was going on. 

That was what he thought, at least until Jem walked up to one of the gate volunteers who were standing under a massive banner colored in blaring hues, and offered them several bills for their donation pot. “Lovely celebration,” he told the woman cheerfully before leading the small family through the gates. Kit was astoundingly confused - even Jem, oblivious to both his appearance and most of the modern world, couldn’t have missed all the blaring signs denoting what the festival was about. He certainly couldn’t have missed all the same-sex couples mulling about. There had been no reason to actually step into the gates. 

Tessa and Jem both turned to look at him, confusion and worry on their faces, and Kit realized belatedly that he had stopped in his tracks. “Kit?” Tessa asked, “is something wrong?” There was apprehension in her voice. 

“Why - I don’t understand -” He was unable to finish his thought, far too confused. As far as he knew, neither Jem nor Tessa were part of the community and they hadn’t expressed any interest in it, apart from readily accepting non-heterosexual people in their lives. Kit had assumed that it was Shadowhunter - and  Downworlder too, as he had met few who had bothered with mundie Pride - custom to not join in the celebration. The only one who would have interest in the celebration was him, and he couldn’t fathom they would go out of the way to join in with Pride just for him.

Both Tessa and Jem’s faces seemed to fill with a sudden sadness that Kit didn’t understand, even though he had seen it from them several times before. It was Tessa, after a moment, who finally answered Kit’s question. “Neither me nor Jem were very active in the mundane world when Pride festivals began,” she started, “but we were told that it is a very important celebration for most LGBTQIA people, particularly for teenagers and young adults. We thought you would want to participate.” There was an anxious tension in her tone as she rattled off phrases that she must have certainly gotten of an ally website. Kit’s confusion grew. 

“I mean, it is for some people, sure. But I’ve been before, you didn’t need to come out of your way to take me.” He probably sounded ungrateful - he often did. Rather than seem angry by his behavior, however, Jem and Tessa seemed to grow more sad. 

“The research we did suggested it was a good thing to celebrate as a family,” Jem said after sharing a look with his wife. “To show support. We’re sorry if we overstepped or made you uncomfortable. We can go, of course.” Kit’s brain had short circuited at Jem’s words. They had come to celebrate Pride. Had gone out of their way to bring him to a festival that they thought might be important to him. To support him. 

Kit knew that his father - the only family he had known for most of his life - would have had no qualms with who he was. But he also knew that he would have never gone out of his way to take Kit to Pride. Would have thought it a waste of time. An unnecessary risk. But here were Tessa and Jem, who were not blood relatives, who had no actual obligation to take care of him save for their own declaration that they loved him, standing in the midst of Pride celebrants with their daughter dressed in the colors of the bisexual flag and telling him that they had driven to London just because they thought Kit would want to celebrate his identity. 

Kit blinked back a sudden rush of tears as he thought suddenly of that boy he had seen years ago, being wrapped in the colors of Pride by his loving father. He had accepted that he would never have that kind of devotion. Thought he hadn’t wanted or needed it. Yet, here he was, standing beside his small, makeshift family in the midst of the cheerful music and exuberant colors of people like him. “I want to stay.” He said finally, cutting through the tension with his shaky words. “Thank you.” He hastened to wipe his eye before a tear could escape but he wasn’t quick enough. It fell, unbidden, down his cheek. Before it had reached his chin, however, Tessa reached out and wiped it away with the softest of touches. It was a gentle gesture, barely a pressure against his skin. But Kit could feel the easy love in it, the devotion of a mother he had never thought he’d feel. He could feel the same parental love in Jem’s stare and Kit had to fight back another onslaught of emotions, lest they end up dripping down his face in more traitorous tears. 

Tessa and Jem didn’t say anything more, right then. But they reached for Kit, each taking a hand as they slowly, carefully, led him into the celebration. Kit allowed them the touch, basking in the familial affection, and didn’t let go even as they walked past multitudes of people. 

Kit had gone to Pride a total of four times in his life. Three times, he had observed, with a quiet envy he hadn’t really understood, all the participating families around him. One time, he basked in the feeling of familial love and acceptance himself.

There was no doubt which time he enjoyed the most. 

[seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana]

@megatraven since your heart is tender from Astraeus,,I thought about Zeus all night lol. Basically, this is my petition to get a Zeus route after idk how many years AFK has been out for and its a mess lol. 

Zeus would TOTALLY take MC to the zoo. Not just for MC to look at the animals, but ALSO because when the lions come to him, he’d puff out his chest and be like “yeah. The tigers like me. I’m the king,” and act like a Chad. 

Whenever Zeus first fell for MC, there’s no way he accepted it. Like, he’s the King of Godsss, and he’s like, “Me? Love a human? Never.” And then he remembers his past and how,,um,,not adding up BUT ANYWAYS he doesn’t believe he loves her and pushes his feelings down. Like almost everyone in AFK does. And he doesn’t like it. At all. He doesn’t like it because he doesn’t know what to do. And like someone in one AFK route said that Zeus’s fear is weakness. So he sees this feeling as weakness because he’s not acting like himself ya know?? Quiet, spacing out, thinking of one human more often than not. THen, he catches himself once again doing things for MC. Maybe if she’s in the office and Zeus needs to see Alex for whatever reason, instead of calling them to come to him or to talk, he goes down there and goes through the office and sees MC. And he’s looking at his papers as he walks to Alexs office and everyone sits straight up when he comes in, including MC, and he likes the way her brown eyes focus on him,,

AND THEN, APHRODITE NOTICES IT AND BASICALLY MAKES FUN OF HIM EJIBKFWEJ. And it ends with Zeus and MC getting together in a bit of peace...until the Hera situation but hey no angst here...yet

MC one night stays in Zeus’s estate and she’s doing some work because Zeus is still in a long meeting (she wonders what they meet about but he wont tell her) and she starts getting sleepy and words start not making sense and shes like, “Hmm...I’ll rest my head for a moment,” and she rests her head against the headboard of the bed. And then,, Zeus comes home and he’s a little confused as to why its silent (I see MC as someone who would play some instrumental music bc I’m MC and I love orchestra music lol). He calls out to MC and gets no reply. He’s not too worried since he’s seen MC fight, he knows she can do many things. And when he gets to his room, he see’s a sight that takes his breath away and fills him with a bit of worry. He sees MC resting her head against the headboard and papers surrounding her and her computer, even some papers on the floor. He takes off his tie with a sigh and a soft laugh as he comes over to her and picks the papers off the floor and off the bed and puts them together. 

He picks up the computer (slowly, not wanting to wake up MC) and no matter how slowly he did it, MC woke up with a gasp and was confused until her eyes settled on Zeus. “Zeus? When did you get back?” He smiles as she rubs her eyes with a yawn. “I just got back. Why did you do all this?” His voice didn’t sound upset or angry, but the way his voice is made MC believe he was angry. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to get everything done tonight,” MC says, her voice in her rambling tone and Zeus realizes how he sounded. He puts everything down and comes back to her and gives her a kiss on her forehead (I want some sweet Zeus). “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I was just,” he pauses, he looks anywhere but at her, “a little worried,” he gets out after a few moments. She smiles and kisses him on his lips. “I love you, Zeus,” she says with a smile and lovestruck face. He wears an identical one and says the same back with no hesitation. “I love you, too, MC.”

HMMM!!! SWEET ZEUS HITS THE SPOT!!! And thennn, two more ideas bc I need to get them out and don’t want to @ you too much lol. 

NOW! With the Zeus facetiming MC thing, imagine her being real sick one day. She didn’t want to go to Olympus and she just wanted to stay in bed and Alex said okay and theres no way Zeus wouldn’t let her stay home if she’s sick. He needs to make sure his human girlfriend is okay :))). However, he’s busy all day. He wants to visit her (even if she tells him no and that she doesn’t want to get him sick-) so bad and tries to but he’s always stopped by some new problem or something else to do. Zeus considers blowing it all off or just leaving for one day, but he knows he probably shouldn’t do that. Not just because MC would possibly feel guilty for him not doing something important because of her (and he doesn’t want her to feel worse) but because he knows he’d regret it the day later when he has a ton more things to do. So, he finishes them and he realizes how its like 7 PM and he’s finally done. He gets worried and decides to do something MC wanted to do with him whenever she’s not on Olympus with him. He got open his laptop and opened an app for facetiming and for once,,,

He feels anxious. He’s a little scared. He doesn’t know WHY, but this human makes him feel a little scared and worried in messing up. He hates it but loves it at the same time, so he calls her (pushing past his slight fear) and and she answers immediately with a smile. It’s a very bright smile even tho she’s sick and she looks a little distracted. “What are you doing?” MC looks up at him with the smile she uses when she’s trying to lie. “Nothing...”. Zeus looks at her and she knows he doesn’t believe it, which causes MC to sigh. “I’m doing a little bit of work,” she said as she showed a piece of paper signed by HERA. He was a little in shock but also worry.

No wonder she’d do this. She’s sick, running a fever, literally probably EXHAUSTED...yet she’s doing work. Zeus felt a little in awe at her when the shock went away. He was honestly considering going there and making her rest. “How long have you been doing work?” MC have him a reassuring look. “I only just started.” He’d probably be a little skeptical, but let it go and it went silent as he watched her write down a lot of things, mumble things she was reading, and look concentrated. And like,,just imagine him being quiet as she works and she asks him if he wants to go, but he always says “no. I like to be here,” and MC blushes really hard and tries to hide it, but she knows he can see it. aND HMM!! It’s just wholesome Meg. I love Zeus so much more than I should. And then she’d listen to his day (with the things he could tell her) and do work and he’s happy and she’s happy :))).

And my last idea was of MC being in Olympus and in Zeus’s estate and when they wake up, they give each other a kiss. They wish each other good morning, but when Zeus lays his forehead against hers, she feels really hot. And basically,,,shes sick and hes like “oh,” and doesn’t know what to do. And can’t think of too much bc my heart is too full but he’s a little worried for her literally all day, everyone wonders why Zeus is a little off his game today, and he’s just thinking of MC all day and how he cant wait to get back to her, so he can help her and protect her (even tho he can’t cuz its her own body-). But anyways,,take these nice little ideas of wholesome Zeus. It’s still so weird to imagine MC being with Zeus even if I love the idea XD. But I’m gonna go think of more Zeus and probably cry a little bit about other characters lol.

And there’s only minimal proof reading so I hope there’s no mistakes :’’).

[dontdietwd]

Day 69, part 2

Dinner was half amazing, because the food was wonderful, half terrible, because the silence was so tense and awkward I wanted to get up and run away from it. Terrible. Glenn tired, poor guy, to come up with something to talk about but somehow only made it worse. Really, terrible.

Even worse, I ended up sitting right across the table form Andrea.

I didn’t move my eyes from my food for a second, because if I did I’d throw myself over the table to punch her.

After eating, people thanked for the food and started leaving to go back to their tents or upstairs to their rooms as Maggie, Beth and Lori went to the kitchen again to do the dishes. Carol had a tray with food and juice and went upstairs to bring it to Daryl. He was probably starving. I went up a bit after her and got to the hall as she was leaving, closing the door behind her.

“Hey,” she whispered, standing with me. “Please see that he eats, he sure need it.” I nodded with a little smile at her. “What he did for my baby today… I have no words,” and she took a step to leave, but stopped to touch my arm. “It’s a god man you got there.”

Oh, how right she was… I watched Carol leave quietly and faced his door, taking a deep breath. I had no idea what I’d say or do, if I’d act on my feelings, it I’d call him out for losing the horse and getting hurt to that extent, I had no idea. But I had to be in there now.

Daryl looked over his shoulder at the door as it creaked open, and kept looking as I entered and closed it behind me. I was nervous as I stared at him, saying nothing, my eyes fixing on the bandage on his head and lower, to his back that was turned to me. There was a tattoo there I didn’t know he had, and scars. Many of them. Long, deep scars that looked old. They’d been there for a long time, probably a childhood thing.

Fuck.

I let it pass for now, my eyes travelling now to the other bandage on his side. He turned back to his position, looking away and trying to bring the sheets higher over him, to hide, but in a moment looked over his shoulder again, at me. He seemed confused by my silence. The bedroom was dim and he didn’t say a word, and try as I might, I couldn’t find anything to say. There was a huge lump on my throat, it had been there since the shot, and it hurt.

Forcing myself to move, I let go of my own hands and crossed the bedroom, rounding the bed to stand opposite Daryl. He followed me with his eyes, turning, still saying nothing. I hesitated for a moment before turning around and sitting on the bed with my back to him and reaching down to untie my boots and kick them off. Without thinking too much of it, I scooched up on the bed, turning to my side and lying down facing Daryl, an arm moving under the pillow I rested my head on, and the other curling around myself, hand resting over my lips.

He stared at me suspiciously, eyes a bit wide, but still said nothing, his hand gripping the sheet high on his chest, but still leaving the bandage on his side visible. We kept like this for a while, lying down facing each other, quiet. My eyes still wandered all around him, his face, both bandages and even his chest moving as he breathed, because I just needed to see him, know he was there and alive and it had all been just a scare.

“You –” Daryl started after a while and stopped to clear his throat, licking his lips before speaking again. “You stayin’?”

I nodded with my head on the pillow, eyes on his. “Yeah. Not ready to have you out of my sight.”

His eyebrows moved a bit down at that, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I know… But you could not be.”

“Was just a grazin’ –”

“– you could’ve died, Daryl,” I said firmly over him, my eyes suddenly filled with tears. “I could be mourning you know instead of lying here looking at you!” At these words, my voice caught I closed my eyes tightly making the tears spill, running over the bridge of my nose. “Fuckin’ hormones,” I muttered as I angrily dried my eyes.

He said nothing, stunned. Hormones my ass. There were no excuses for those tears except the truth, that I dreaded the idea of losing him.  He watched me dry my eyes and sniff and look at him again, and I wandered all over his face how. So Daryl cleaned his throat again and spoke of something other than my tears.

“Still don’t know for real what happened.”

“You know you were shot in the head, right?”

My change of tone was apparently something Daryl could work with because he relaxed a little.

“Gathered that much.”

“It was Andrea! Daryl. Andrea shot you in the fuckin’ head!”

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah, she though you was a walker. The way you arrived on the field… But I told her not to. Rick and Shane were close to you, they’d take care of it if it was a walker, and I was right there and I told her not to shoot ‘cause she didn’t need to, that Rick and Shane were there and she’d waste a bullet and the noise is dangerous, I fuckin’ told her and she just motherfuckin’ did it anyway!”

I finished turning abruptly on my back, the mattress shaking strongly, and growling loudly as I covered my face with my hands.

“It can’t go unpunished!” I let go of my face, angrily staring at the ceiling, gesturing with my hands. “She shot someone, one of ours, she could have killed you! I gotta do something, I wanna ban her. I wanna punch her in that fucking face of hers and then ban her from this group!”

“Hey, you gotta stop!” Daryl reached for my left upper arm, making me stop and look at him, breathing hard as if I’d run a marathon. “We’ll deal with her later, just stop.”

“But Daryl –”

“I’m okay, Sam,” he spoke calmly and in a low voice, calmer than he probably felt, because he’d just found out who had shot him. “Ya told me not to die, remember?”

I quieted at that and turned again to my side, facing him, one arm once again moving under the pillow and the other now resting on the mattress between us. Sniffing, I closed my eyes briefly and looked at him again. “Yeah. I did.”

“I heard ya.”

Pressing my lips together, I felt my eyes fill up again, and I nodded. “What of this?” I diverged the subject pointing at his side.

He lifted his arm from the mattress and looked quickly at his wound and then back at me, his hand resting close to mine. “Fell from the horse. Rolled down a slope and fell down a waterfall, landed on an arrow that went right through here. May have hit my head as well ‘cause then I was all hallucinatin’’ of Merle talking ta me.”

My eyebrows were up. “Holly fuck, Daryl. And then got shot in the head!”

He smirked sideways, just lightly, “And then got shot in the head.”

“Merle must have said all kinds a shit to you.”

“You know him, even jus’ in my head.”

“Yeah…” I breathed out hard, my cheeks ballooning up for a moment and we went silent again. I turned a bit, trying to get more comfortable, nearly on my stomach, getting even closer to Daryl, but didn’t stay in this position for a second, returning to my side but turning just a little further, my bump up.

“Damn,” I muttered placing a hand on it, “if I lie on my stomach, I can feel the bump… ‘S weird, like Imma crush the baby. Pro’ly wont but feels weird.”

I looked at Daryl and found his eyes glued on my small bump, a little of it showing under the shirt that got lifted a bit with all my moving. I let him look, my own hand feeling it, for a long moment, until he blinked, cleaned his throat and looked at me.

“You showin’… Didn’t know you was showing.”

“Well, barely… But I am,” and I lifted the shirt a bit further, the whole little bump out now. “’S kinda bizarre… Little person growing inside me.”

“Do you – Do you feel it already? Move, I mean?”

“Nah… Too soon I think. But I do feel like… Kinda something. Like there’s a butterfly batting the wings in there. Or like, you know when we got that eye twitch, the muscle movin’ on its own?” I asked smiling and he nodded. “Like that, inside. Was feeling it when I laid here.”

There was silence again and I felt like I could breathe again, lying there so close to a living, breathing Daryl, his eyes alive and attentive on me, the heat from this body radiating to me. It felt safe, it felt right, and I could close my eyes and breath out slowly, a little smile playing on my lips. I knew he was watching me and it felt comfortable. When I opened my eyes, I caught his own traveling from my bump to my hand on it and up my arms, studying me from my forearm sunflower tattoos to the colorful mandala on my upper arm, the little green chameleon on my shoulder and the black and grey butterfly low on the side of my neck. And then he met my eyes, catching me watching him.

He didn’t look away as I thought he would. My eyes were locked on his, my expression relaxed because I was feeling relaxed after it all, and he knew I wasn’t mad he’d been looking. I accepted it, I believe my look showed that. He kept looking and the moment elongated. His nervousness started to fade, I could see, as if my very look was relaxing him.

After what felt like a life, I smiled reached my hand to his, holding it up and guiding it to my baby bump. Caught off guard, Daryl found himself with his palm against the bare skin of my belly.

“Do you feel it?” I smiled. He looked down at our hands, trying to focus. “There, again!”

“No… Didn’t feel nothin’.”

“No?”

“No… Must be too small yet.”

“Yeah...” my smile faltered a bit. “Wish you could feel it.”

And still I held his hand there, hoping he’d be able to feel maybe the first real movement of the baby, even though I had no idea it was already time for the baby to start moving. I wasn’t even sure the little things I’d been feeling really were the baby, maybe they were just my stomach growling or gas or whatever. But all I was sure now was that his big palm as covering nearly my entire bump and it was warm and comfy to feel it there, and I wished he wouldn’t let go even if he felt no movement. I was still watching him when he looked up from the bump to my eyes again.

It was when I felt the tiniest movement of his thumb on my skin. Slow, soft but surely back and forth, his eyes unsure on me as if asking if this was okay. The tiniest smile on my lips told him it was. It was more than okay; it was welcome. I could feel the strong muscles on his hand working under my fingers as he kept slowly moving his thumb. Just as slowly, scared I’d spook him to stop, I moved my fingertips over the back of his hand, up to his thick, strong wrist, to his forearm, and there I mimicked his slow strokes, our eyes still fixed on one another, softly, interrupted only by slow blinking.

The farmhouse around us had gone silent, people retreated to their rooms or back outside to the tents after diner, meaning a long time had passed as we just laid there, soft strokes and eyes deep into the other.

God, how I wanted him…

I licked my lips before whispering, breaking the long silence, “Daryl…”

His thumb stopped and I regretted speaking, I didn’t want him to stop, so to show it I kept stoking his forearm and smiled softly at him, hoping it would make him see I was not asking him to stop. It worked, because after a moment he hummed in question and his thumb moved again.

Well, here we go.

“Just… I wanted to tell you that… Just in case you want to, if you’re thinking about it… It’s okay if… If you want to kiss me. I’d like that.”

Ok, not as eloquent as I’d wished, but well.

He stopped again, frozen, eyes still on mine, not moving. My heart started beating faster, a bit faster to each second he didn’t move, wondering if I’d made a huge mistake voicing what I’d been thinking. But the moment was so real, so long, so soft, I’d felt certain he was thinking it too, but maybe he wasn’t, and my face started feeling warmer. I stopped my fingers on his forearm. Seconds elongated and the longer it passed, the more I wanted to get up and leave the room apologizing for the mistake. However, Daryl hadn’t moved away, his hand still resting warmly on my stomach, his body close and his eyes deep on mine.

And then he moved.

His hand left my skin leaving it a bit cold where it had been, but I only noticed it for a moment because his hand was now on my face, covering my cheek, fingertips under my ear, and he was moving slowly and careful to me, his eyes clear as the sky closing slowly just as he got so near I could feel his intake of breath before his lips touched mine. I closed my eyes and allowed him to softly press his lips against mine and I thought my heart was going to burst in my chest. I felt like crying; his touch as so gentle, so careful I couldn’t believe this was the same Daryl, the fighter, hunter, the ill-mannered redneck I was glad to call a friend. No, this was the other side of him, the one I believed not many people had had the pleasure of knowing before. This kiss was being given by the loyal, soft side of him, the one that cared about other people more than he cared about himself, the protective, kind one I though not even Daryl himself believed to exist. It was clear on the heedfulness of his touch, on his gentle hand on my face.

I lifted my hand to rest on top of his on my face, holding him there, telling him I liked it, that I was welcoming his touch and his kiss, and allowed myself to wonder for a second if I had even been touched so gently before and came out with nothing. Nobody had ever given me such a tender first kiss and I had never felt so overwhelmed by a kiss that I felt my eyes prickling with tears under my closed eyelids.

Slowly he let go, his lips on mine making a soft kissing sound. I kept my eyes closed for a moment longer, my hand holding his on my face, and I could still feel it, my lips tingling, wanting more. I lazily opened my eyes. Daryl hadn’t rested his head on the pillow again, he stayed there, halfway between our spots, looking at me with many questions in his eyes, like he wanted me to tell him what to do now that we’d crossed the line, now that there was probably no turning back. I had the answer, I knew exactly what it was.

I let him know by closing the space between us once again to kiss him, my lips pressing firmly against his, more firmly than he had, and my hand let go of his to run down his forearm to his elbow and upper arm and rest on the back of his shoulder. His own hand on my face slid back into my hair, his fingers purchasing their place on my scalp under the locks, and it felt so good I whimpered against his mouth, parting my lips against his, an invitation; my hand tightening on his shoulder as a pleading, so he parted his own lips to allow his tongue to touch my lower lip. I responded to him instantly and we both took deep intakes of breath so we wouldn’t have to let go anytime soon. I slid closer to him, our chests touching now, and then we both just let it go, our kiss deepening, tongues dancing together, lips getting to know each other, moving slowly and intensely, the effects starting to make themselves present on our bodies.

Daryl moved over, his hand sliding from my hair to my back, turning to nearly get on top of me, his mouth never leaving mine, but just as he turned a bit too far, the fresh stiches on his side stung from being twisted and he hissed, letting go of my lips and returning abruptly to his position on his side. Startled, I covered her mouth with my hand, eyes wide watching him. His face showed more annoyance than pain, his eyes tightly closed for a moment before he looked at me.

“Sorry!” I told him. “Did I hurt you?”

“Was me, can’t turn. It’s fine,” he said in a strained voice.

“Did you open a stitch?”

“Don’t think so. ‘S fine,” and he relaxed, the pain subsiding, and rested his head on the pillow again, with me still there real close to him. “Come here,” his voice gentle once again told me as he pressed his hand on my back, trying to bring me to him.

“Maybe we should wait… You’re hurt, don’t wanna make it worse,” I said even as I approached, our noses nearly touching.

“Ain’t no way this will make me worse,” he told her with a shy smirk and I laughed against his lips as he tried to kiss me again.

“What I mean…” I pushed him softly to be able to look into his eyes. “Is that if we keep this up I’m gonna want… More… And you can’t, you’re convalescing.”

“I’m convalescing,” he repeated, eyebrows up. “I’ll have ya know I’ve gone huntin’ with a broken leg. I’ve tracked deer with a concussion.”

I was smiling but a bit more seriously now, as I held him close. “You were shot, Daryl… Got an arrow to your side,” and I lowered my head to the pillow, pressing my face against his neck and pulling him tightly to me. “I’m just happy you’re here, alive, and that I can hold you… And that now I can kiss you, and not just keep liking you from a distance…”

He chuckled, hugging me against him. “You like me?”

I laughed, face hidden on his neck, “Shut up.”

“I think ya like me.”

“’Course I like you, ya jerk,” I looked up at him again and slapped his shoulder. “Why you think I’m in bed making out with you, all cryin’ and ooh please don’t die and shit?”

Daryl was looking at me with a playful smile, but halfway through my speaking he got bit by bit more serious and his eyebrows went down in confusion.

“You serious ‘bout this?”

I took a moment to answer, staring at him before saying “Yeah. Why did ya think?”

“I… I dunno… ‘Cause ya was scared.”

“I was scared. I was fuckin’ shitless scared,” I was serious now. “I think when they carried you into the house I stood frozen like an ice statue for like ten minutes in the front yard, unable to move because I thought ya was dead and what the fuck was I gonna do with my life without you,” and I was breathless again and tried to let go of him to sit up, because I knew I had said too much. There was something about a living and breathing Daryl lying so close to me being all gentle and kissing so good that made me talk too much too soon. We’d just kissed for the first time, finally, and here I was opening my heart and talking feelings and shit.

But he held me, not letting me get up, “Hey, don’t – I know. I know, alrigh’?” and I stopped trying and looked at him again. “I knew ya liked me, jus’ can’t understand it. Not used ta people likin’ me, is all, specially girls. And I didn’t know it was… Like this, that ya wanted me like this…”

“Fuck, Daryl…” I settled again, replacing myself on his neck and holding him tight again. “You got no idea, do you?”

“Nah, think I don’t…” he whispered. “But I ain’t about to argue that now…”

“Good. Hope you don’t argue it later too, ‘cause I ain’t going anywhere.”

He just hummed, holding me in his arms, and we went quiet. His hand was travelling up and down my back and I relaxed on his hold, my face on his neck, feeling the smell and the heat of his skin, my hand on the back of his shoulder also starting to softly explore. I knew I should stop touching him because I’d only want more, but it was impossible. My hand moved to the nape of his neck, fingertips light on his skin.

“Don’t know why I can’t find her…” he whispered into the silence, hand still roaming on my back.

I took a moment to answer, wondering if he’d say more. I knew Daryl. I knew he didn’t talk much, specially about feelings and stuff, so I should give him room to keep speaking if he’d like, but after a while he remained silent.

“Not sure why…” I started. “But with how hard you trying, got no doubt we’ll know soon enough.”

“Wanna find her alive…”

“I know… But you gotta know, Daryl… Won’t be your fault if ya don’t.”

He stilled in my arms, his hand stopping stroking me and I could feel him tense.

“Yeah it will,” he disagreed.

I lifted my head again to look at him, “You’re doing all ya can. You nearly died for her today. You’re out there every day, doin’ what everybody else shoulda. What I shoulda too.”

“Nah, ya can’t,” he shook his head. “Ya gotta take care of yourself, ‘s dangerous out there.”

“And yet you’re still out there all day,” I agreed firmly. “Nobody’s tryin’ as hard as you.”

“Promised her momma I’d keep trying ‘till I find her,” Daryl mumbled looking down, at somewhere near my throat.

“That’s…” I paused to lick my lips. “That’s some real serious thing to promise someone… Why you doin’ that?”

Daryl looked back at me, “She’s twelve, alone in the woods. What kinda prick wouldn’t do that?”

“Well, Rick, Shane. They ain’t doing that.”

“Yeah, but you told me to.”

“What?” I frowned.

“The day she vanished, back on the road. You put me in charge of finding her.”

“I put you in charge of looking for her,” I corrected firmly. “I never said find her, and I never promised Carol Sophia would come back alive.”

“You don’t think I can do it?”

“Yes, I do. I think you can find her. If anyone can, that’s you. We just can’t know if she’ll be… You know, still her when you do. And if she’s not, that will not be on you. It won’t even be on Rick, who’s the one who left her alone in the woods in the first place, why would it be on you who’s nearly getting killed looking for her?”

Daryl’s face was hard, his emotion hiding behind angry eyes, even though he hadn’t let go of me, not for a moment. He said nothing, just kept looking at me and I think he was repeating my words in his head, trying to make sense of them, wanting to believe them. After a while he closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them again, it was a bit softer and he looked down again.

“Carol said I’m every bit as good as Rick ‘n Shane, ‘cause I’m tryin’,” he whispered, his hand restarting his caress on my back.

“Now there I disagree with her,” I said and he looked up at my eyes again, a bit startled, and I smiled softly at him. “You’re better.”

His eyebrows went down and he scoffed, his hand sliding from my back to my waist as he turned a little away from me. “Come on, jus’… Don’t.”

“I mean it, Daryl,” I also moved, lifting up to rest on one elbow so I could look at him, and smiled, “You really got no idea, do you? Nobody knows you like I do. Them all, they don’t see it. But ya’ve been by my side all this time, since before, since you went to the diner to warn me and then to the house to save me from those assholes and took me to your place and never left my side.”

“Don’t know what kinda asshole wouldn’t do that…” he mumbled looking down, away from my eyes.

“Many of them wouldn’t,” I replied quickly. “I chose to stay close to you Daryl, you know I could have left on my own, maybe even survived alone, but I didn’t even want to, I wanted to be with you. Merle was a package deal, but it was for you that I chose to stay, that I chose the three of us was a group that’d stay together. Ain’t regretted it for a second,” and then I placed a hand on his chest making him look at me again. “You might got trouble believing or understandin’ it ‘cause o’ some crap people told ya your whole life, but I’ll say it all until you believe it.”

I laid down on my side again, nudging him to turn to me and he did, facing me with unsure eyes, but he said nothing. I knew he didn’t feel like what I was saying was true, not someone like Daryl who believed himself to be nothing, who’d grown up with a brother like Merle who probably put him down at any chance he had and God knows what other crap he had to face growing up, but I was sure of what I was saying. I adored him, wanted him by my side for the whole of the end of the world and I was decided to make him see it eventually.

So now I just kissed him again, holding his face in my hand, tenderly, trying to convey my feelings with no words now. He took a moment but kissed me back, just as softly for a while until deepening it again, his hand on my hip pulling me closer once again. The kiss was quicker to heat up this time. Daryl’s fingers tightened on my hip and sent electricity all over my body. My hand slid down on him, from his face to his neck and chest and rounding him up to his nape again, where I pressed and made him let out a low throaty sound, unconsciously imitated by me. Encouraged, Daryl moved his leg between my knees and I complied by parting them to give him room, our groins together now, his hand going down to press on my ass.

Damn, yes, that what I’d missed.

I moaned on his mouth at the feeling of him hard inside his pants and rubbed my thigh against it. He motioned me rhythmically and we moaned together against each other’s lips.

“Fuck, girl…” Daryl groaned as he slid his lips from my mouth to my neck, burying his head between mine and the pillow.

“Can add that you’re a fucking amazing kisser to all that,” I smiled to the feeling of his tongue on my neck, goosebumps rising all over my body and my mouth finding his shoulder.

“Ya said somethin’ ‘bout maybe we should wait?” he asked with a smirk just before pulling my skin into his mouth, making me moan and softly bite on his shoulder.

“Got no idea why I said that,” I moaned with a longer rub of my hip against his as my hand slid down from his nape to his upper back and then down, my palm opened as to feel as much of his skin as I could, the raised skin from his scars – which I’d seen briefly before when I entered the room.

But he stopped all he was doing with a strong, involuntary flinch, pulling away from me, his hand on my hip pushing me from him, not too far but fast, enough to startle me. I immediately let go of him, holding my hand up in the air, eyes wide. Daryl looked at me as if he didn’t even know why he’d done it, shame instantly filling his eyes as he lowered them, his lips working on saying something but no words coming.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as softly as I could, even with my startled expression. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to – Won’t touch if you don’t want me to, I’m sorry.”

“Sam, I –” he started but paused to clean his throat, still not looking at me. “You did nothin’, I just… You don’t wanna touch ‘em.”

“I don’t mind touching ‘em. Really. But won’t if you don’t want me to.”

“Is not ‘cause of you…”

“I know.”

“Sorry…”

“Please don’t apologize for that. It ain’t your fault,” I lowered my hand from where it was still raised between us to rest on his cheek, making him finally look back at me. “It was done to you. Not your fault.”

“Jus’ don’t like being touched there.”

“Then I won’t. We’re learning, Daryl… I’m learning what you like… And what you don’t like, just as you’ll learn me.”

Daryl nodded weakly, eyes lowering again, still ashamed even with my reassurances, his hand light on my hip. I let my own hand slide from his face to his chest and rest there, right on his heart, feeling it was beating fast.

“Who was it? If you don’t mind telling me…”

He was silent for a moment, unmoving, before groaning out, “My old man…”

I also paused before speaking again, because I didn’t want my first reaction to be calling the old Dixon ugly names, but it ended up being “Son of a bitch” in a whisper all the same. Daryl looked up at my eyes at that, shame still there, but now also surprised.

“I understand you, Daryl…”

“Ya don’t, Sam…” he disagreed gently. “You might wanna, but ya had a good daddy. Can’t know it.”

I didn’t answer, just kept looking at him, my eyes soft once again at him for a long moment until I slowly started untangling myself from him. Silently, Daryl tried to hold me there so I wouldn’t go, but I insisted, pushing him gently until he allowed me to sit up, now not an inch of him touching me. I missed it, wanted to go back. But this was important. He had to know.

I didn’t go far. I stayed there, only turned to sit with my back to him, still close, and quietly crossed my arms and reached for the hem of my shirt, slowly but certainly pulling it up and off. My locks were momentarily lifted by the shirt only to fall back heavily over my back as I discarded the shirt on the bed. I looked back at Daryl over my shoulder and, my eyes not leaving his, reached back to slide the dreads over my opposite shoulder, showing him back, only the beige strap of my bra partially blocking the view.

His eyes left mine to look at what I was showing him. My skin was adorned with another tattoo on my upper back, just under my nape, a lotus flower with little, delicate chains and jewelry. Then, right under the strap of the bra, on my right side, was clearly as the day a burn scar tissue. I knew it looked quite healed because it had been there for a long time, with about 8 inches’ long, rosy on my white skin.

“I may have had a good daddy,” I started with a soft voice, still looking at him over my shoulder, and he looked at me, “but it don’t mean I had a good momma.”

He stared at my eyes for a moment longer and then looked again at the scar, a hand slowly reaching out to it but stopping before his fingertips could feel it.

“When?” he asked simply.

“Was four. Mom was tryin’ to quit drinking then,” I told him as she turned my head away, looking down at my hands. “I was being annoying or something, I don’t know, kept calling her. She was cooking and telling me to shut up but I wouldn’t, so she took this pot from the stove with boiling water and threw it at me. I guess I saw her reach for it and turned to run cause the water fell on my back.”

“Shit…” Daryl whispered behind me and sat up, groaning a little as his stiches ached, but he rested his weigh on his hand and sat behind me.

“’S why dad got my custody,” I told him. “They were separated already and he was not my real daddy but he’d already adopted, so when I was at the hospital he got my custody and left her for good.”

“You saw her again?”

“She tried a few times after she got outta jail ‘bout three years after. But she couldn’t be alone with me and she got all angry and frustrated with it and never showed up again,” I sighed heavily. “Years later I heard she’d gotten a new guy, had another baby and moved away from Georgia, but never knew anythin’ more than that. But it don’t matter,” I looked over my shoulder at him again. “What I mean is I understand. I know what’s like to get hurt by the person who should love you the most.”

He nodded as he bit on his inner lip again. I couldn’t really tell, bit he seemed to be feeling things, his eyes were a little shinier, but I couldn’t look more to be sure because he lowered his forehead until it touched my upper back tattoo and kept looking at the scar, braving up enough to touch it with his fingertips. I shivered slightly, but it was because of his gentle touch, not the scar. He traced the entire expense of it gently and slowly, and I leaned back into him. He stopped touching the scar to hold my waist as he lifted his head and placed a kiss where his forehead had been.

It was only then that I noticed I was actually nearly naked, right there only on my bra, but strangely, as much as I’d wanted to be like that with him, I knew this didn’t mean anything right now. This wasn’t sexual, and at the moment I didn’t even want it to be. I just wanted to be here with him, my skin on his, to hold him and feel him hold me.

Now he just motioned me to lay down on my side with him, my back to his chest, and he slid the sheet over our bodies, one arm pillowing my head and the other circling me to rest his hand once again on my baby bump. I held both his hands – one on the mattress and the other on my stomach, and sighed, closing my eyes.

“Thank you,” I heard Daryl whisper behind me, close to my ear, and I snuggled back on him, my back flush against his chest. For a moment I thought of questioning what he was thanking me for, but I didn’t. I knew then what he was grateful for. So I held up his arm under my head until his hand reached my mouth and planted a little kiss there.

“Don’t gotta thank me… You ‘n I… We’re it.”

Daryl lowered his head to my shoulder and pressed a lingering kiss there, the hand on my belly stroking me lightly, and said nothing. He held me tight, burying his face against my neck and I melted against his chest, and I could feel his heart hammering right there on my back.

[sockablock]

Made up fic title: Running On Empty

On the first night, Beauregard has a dream.

It’s nothing too extraordinary, all things considered, nothing like the prophecies and destinies and visions that plague the resting hours of her friends. After all, Beau’s always just been a simple girl, and that doesn’t change when her eyes are closed.

She barely even remembers what she sees. The clash of metal, the spray of blood, something in the distance grinning wide, and then dark.

The next morning, she wakes up slowly, a bit uneasy. But her friends are already up and about, breaking camp, Caduceus has already hitched up the horses and Jester’s threatening to collapse their tent over her head.

“Fuck you,” says Beau, and ties her hair up in its place. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”

+++

On the second night, after a long day’s travel, they pull over off the side of the road and go about the business of getting ready for the night.

Beau takes first watch, with Fjord lounging lazily at her side. His eyes glow yellow in the firelight. He has a stalk of wheat pinched between his lips and he leans against the base of their log. Beau asks him to say “tarnation,” and he kindly, amicably, flips her off. 

Afterwards, they wake up Caleb and Nott and head off to their respective tents for some rest. And after Beau steps over Jester and lets down her hair and tucks herself into the warm comfort of her bedroll, the dream finds her again.

This time, she remembers just a little bit more:

The air is thick with rain, nearing sleet. The grass underfoot is scorched and dead. Her tongue tastes like iron, and pain, and fear, and her fists are blue with bruising, and a chill. 

There are shapes at her side. One is lying the grass. Another, staggering, back hitting a tree, then collapsing. Somehow, she knows, that across the field, the others in their group aren’t doing much better—

She does not sleep very well that night. She wakes up yawning, even later than before, to find Jester peering at her intently.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice tinged with concern. “You aren’t sick, are you?”

Thankfully, at least, through the fog of exhaustion, Beau’s tongue is just as quick as ever.

“A girl can’t sleep in?” she demands. “Your snoring was keeping me up all night.”

Jester’s expression is a mix of frustration and annoyance.

“Fine,” she huffs, turning to leave. “I was just worried, is all.”

Beau feels terrible almost immediately.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, straightening up and sighing. “I had a bad dream, is all.”

Jester, mollified, quickly looks back.

“Are you sure?” she asks, the worry creeping back. “You know that you can always talk to me, right?”

Beau gives her a grin.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just give me a second, and I’ll help you pack our stuff.”

+++

On the third night, there is more.

Now the metal sounds like nails scratching against a window, and each drop of rain smells suspiciously of blood. Even worse than that, though, is when Beau turns her head just slightly to the left and notices that there are even more fallen figures this time. Their eyes wide open and unlooking, towards the sky.

A pair lavender, a pair blue, one glowing yellow and one crimson r—

That night, she snaps awake. 

Her heavy breathing fills the small space in their tent. She quickly clamps a hand over her mouth, forces herself to be steady and be still. She doesn’t want to wake Jes up and she doesn’t want to bother anyone else, best to keep this to herself especially when it’s really nothing to worry ab—

She takes a long, long, long inhale. She lets it go. She waits for the shaking to stop. She does not lie back down.

+++

“What’s up with you?” Nott asks, hours later, as they’re circling through some trees. Their voyage up to the frozen wastes of Icehaven is going by fast, but there’s still lots of downtime to be had as they travel. Their horses cannot be pushed too hard, and Caduceus insists that their mounts need breaks.

None of them disagree. He’s usually right about these things, anyways.

“Nothing’s up with me,” snaps Beau, and ducks beneath a branch, trying to keep up with Nott. The two of them are scouting for a stream, or really for anything interesting and worth exploring.

“You’re slow,” says the little goblin, as she leaps over a boulder. “You’re usually even faster than me.”

“I’m not,” says Beau, rolling her eyes. “This is my…this is my normal pace. When I’m being stealthy, that is.”

Then she steps on a branch, and the splintering wood echoes through the forest.

Nott, from atop another rock, turns back and frowns.

“Sure,” she says. “Stealthy.”

Beau waves an impatient hand. “Of course, I can’t get it right if you keep talking. Just shut up and lead, alright?”

Nott’s eyebrows go up. But she studies Beau’s furious expression, and decides, that for now, it would probably be best to drop it.

“Sure,” she shrugs, and hopes down from her perch. “Just don’t fall behind, okay?”

+++

On the fourth night, Beau slips into her bedroll as her stomach churns with dread. There is no relief in knowing that she will not be surprised by what will come.

Seeing her fallen companions has not gotten any easier. The flash of that familiar, wicked smile, grips her mind. 

But you killed him, she reminds herself. You watched him burn.

There will be more like me, says Lorenzo. There will always be more. 

And then there’s a feeling like a glaive through the chest.

One day soon, that’ll be just enough.

+++

They get into a fight the next afternoon, as they are often wont to do. Really, Beau is surprised it’s taken this long. The previous night’s words are ringing heavy in her ears, heavier even when her sluggish fists fail to land against the steely bark of the treant. It roars with anger, then slams a limb into her stomach, and she flies back through the low branches into a trunk. Luckily, Caduceus is around to heal her soon, but not before she slumps down and coughs up blood.

“Are you okay?!” Fjord shouts over the noise. “Do you need assistance?”

“Shut up and fight!” Beau screams back. “I’m fine! I’m just f—”

+++

When she wakes up, it is to faces staring intently back at hers. It takes Beau a few seconds to process this, and then she just groans and puts her hand against her head.

“How long was I down?” she asks, wincing from the pain. “And—ow—and how badass did I look?”

“Is now really the time for that?” Caleb sighs. “You almost died.”

“And yet, here I am. Funny, huh?”

“We were worried about you,” Yasha says. “You went down much too easily.”

Beau shrugs. It’s an easy gesture, though in the moment, it feels impossible.

“I guess that tree was sturdier than it looked. You, uh, you handled it, right?”

Nott points over Beau’s shoulder. She turns and sees, in the clearing, a charred hunk of broken, splintered wood.

Beau nods at this. She turns back around.

“Awesome. So are we going now, or what?”

“Not before we have a talk,” Fjord says. “Seriously. Is everything okay? You’ve been…kind of weird, lately.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Caduceus agrees. “You seem exhausted, what’s going on?”

Beau’s eyes narrow. She opens her mouth to give a snappish response, even straightens up and tries to stand, but instantly there’s a rush of nausea and she almost collapses right then and there into Fjord’s arms.

Which would have been bad, because she probably would’ve taken him down too.

But then there’s a different hand on Beau’s arm. Soft, and blue, and Beau looks up, and sees Jester.

She says, “Guys, back off for a second.”

There’s a pause. The rest of the Nein exchange glances. And then, as one, they break away, and head for the treant.

“We will let you know if it’s got anything good,” Caleb says as they go. 

“Good?” Fjord asks. “What, do you think it’s got a wallet?”

Nott smacks him on the arm, and then they eventually leave earshot.

Jester looks at Beau, who stares back. Her expression is a special mix of defiance and trepidation. 

Jester sighs. 

She flops down into the grass.

“Alright. Alright, alright, alright,” she says, and carefully angles her face to the sky. As if avoiding eye contact would make this easier.

“Beau…you know we have to talk now, right?”

Beau groans. She does this fun thing where she rolls over onto her stomach and buries her face into some dandelions. 

“Do we have to?”

“You almost died.”

This, evidently, is enough to make Beau groan again. She reaches up and puts her hands over her head.

“I’m just tired,” she says. “That’s really all. I swear, that’s it.”

“That’s enough to be a big problem, though,” Jester says. “I mean…I’m a cleric, I can tell that Cad is right. You are exhausted. Way more than a normal person should be.”

There’s a muffled response from Beau. Jester leans in, and raises her eyebrows.

“Sorry, what?” she asks again. “What did you s—”

“That’s the problem!” screams Beau, throwing herself up and nearly colliding with a pair of horns. Grass goes flying and a few golden petals careen through the air. “That’s the fucking problem! I’m normal! And there’s fuckall I can do when you guys are really in danger. I mean, fuck, Jes, fuck, last time…last time…I basically let it happen. I was too fucking far away to help, and I just…I just…I just stood there, and watched him die.”

They fall silent.

Clouds drift overhead. Beau’s angry breathing rolls around them in waves. And then she just sighs and tucks in her knees. She lowers her chin, and wraps an arm around her legs.

“It’s stupid,” she says. “It’s just…just…dumb insecurity, or something. I dunno why. I guess lately I’ve been worried about all your safety, or whatever. And…and…I mean, fuck, I know you guys can take care of yourselves.”

For a long, long pause, neither of them move. A breeze runs into the clearing, tousles their hair, then disappears through the trees.

And then, Jester leans in close.

She puts a hand around Beau’s shoulders. She lets her friend lean against her side.

She says:

“I’m sorry you feel like that. It’s…it sucks. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Jester shrugs. “But it’s not yours either.”

They sit there in the quiet for a few moments longer.

“I don’t know why it’s all of a sudden,” Beau mumbles. “I mean, gods, there’s no point in worrying. We’ve taken on so many fucking things, since then. But…for some reason, for no reason, at all, I just started thinking about everything that happened. And I’m worried it’ll happen to the rest of you. I…I don’t want to think about what would happen if I, uh, if I…lost you.”

Jester nods. Her horn charms jingle softly.

“I get that,” she murmurs. “I do. It…sometimes I’m afraid that I’ll go down in a fight, and then there’ll be nobody around to heal us. Though, then I remember that we have Cad, and it makes me feel less bad?”

“That makes sense,” Beau snorts. “That’s good logic.”

“Thanks,” Jester giggles. Then her smiles fades slightly, and she adds, “But fear doesn’t care about logic, does it? Because you know that we’re real badasses, and you know that things are different, now. We have killed so many crazy things and we’ve all made it through together. You know that. But sometimes it’s hard to feel it, to really know it, right?”

Beau manages a faint smile. She gives a slow nod.

“You’re a lot wiser than we give you credit for.”

Jester grins. “I know.”

“But how do I fix this?” Beau mumbles. “How do I convince my stupid brain that it’s okay? How to I…how do I heal this, or whatever?”

Jester hums thoughtfully. She mulls this one over.

And then slowly, very slowly, she reaches down into the grass. She picks up a dandelion, and tucks it behind Beau’s ear.

“Hang on,” she says. “I think I have an idea.”

Beau raises an eyebrow. “What sort?” she asks.

Jester gives a grin.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.

The little blue tiefling shoots up onto her heels. She runs over towards the others, who had gathered around the treant and had spent the last few minutes poking at its charred husk. She pulls them down into a huddle, and very quickly, they all start to whisper. 

There is a part of Beau, a very old part,  the part that remembers Mother in the parlors, with those dumb little teacups and those stupid, gossipy friends, a part that knows instantly that they are talking about her, and hates it.

But a different part of her, newer but much larger, reaches up and touches the dandelion. She takes a slow breath. She waits.

When Jester comes back, it is with all their friends in hand. Beau scarcely has time to say anything, barely has a second to raise an eyebrow and ask what’s happening, before the entire party descends on her and they all flop into a heap on the ground. Her head is suddenly against Yasha’s leg and Jester is lying across her stomach, she’s pressed against Caleb’s side and Nott’s by her head and Fjord and Caduceus tickle her shoulders, the entire group has suddenly become just a pile of bodies lying down in the grass in the middle of a random clearing in the woods.

The sun is shining gently above them. The dandelions sway in the breeze.

There’s a pause. Then Beau says, “What the fuck?”

From around the area of her bellybutton, Jester pipes up.

“We’re taking a nap together,” she says. “All of us, like this. You can feel us, right?”

“I can feel a little too much,” comes Fjord’s voice. “Nott, your elbows are digging into my leg.”

“Tough luck,” is the response, “we can deal with your problems later”

Jester laughs, and Beau can feel her shake her head.

“I think, if we are all together like this, it might help convince you that we are all okay,” the little tiefling explains. “Or, maybe it’ll help you feel more secure. And to make that even extra secure…”

“Hang…hang on…” comes Caleb’s voice. It is faint, and a bit distracted, but after twenty seconds of silence go by, there is a sudden whoosh of air as a familiar bubble goes up around them, a circular dome of protective energy that bursts to life over their heads. It shimmers with a translucent magical sheen, allowing them to see outside, reminding them that it is still there.

“Tiny hut,” Caleb supplies helpfully. “It has been a while since the last one, eh? I, ah, I apologize for that.”

“You don’t…have to,” Beau says slowly. “I get it, you need to save your energy, and we haven’t been attacked in a while—”

“Still,” says Caleb. “This is important.”

None of the others say anything right away. They all seem to be silent, waiting, for Beau’s answer.

For a while, she just lies there in the grass, unmoving. She sees white clouds above them, across the blue sky. She basks in the the sweet scent of spring flowers. She can hear a bird singing somewhere in the distance, a soothing melody that carries in the wind.

She can feel the warmth of her friends all around her. She can even feel a couple of their heartbeats. The dandelion in her hair tickles against her ear.

“T…thanks,” she mumbles. “You guys, I…thanks.”

There’s a few chuckles, and some giggling.

Jester murmurs, “Of course.”

And then, eventually, finally, after so long, sinking into the warmth of her friends at her side, Beauregard slowly lets herself take a breath.

She lets it go.

She shuts her eyes.

[rainecloud020604]

🔥🕊️🌙📚👑☕ Universo,Artsy,Leland,Hood,Milo,Violet?

🔥 If your OC known for having temper tantrums? If not, what gets them really angry? What makes their blood BOIL? Is there anyway to calm them down or are they unstoppable? What are they like when they’re angry? Do they take it out on their loved ones?

Universo - its very rare to get this angel’s blood boiling, he hates and absolutely loathes people getting disrespected in any way when they clearly deserve the respect because they earned it. he keeps it to himself and calms himself down, he’s kinda collected when he gets angry, to himself, doesnt let his anger out of others often unless they earned it

Artsy - the gal gets really angry when she is underestimated, along with seeing others mistreated. She can get a bit violent if needed to express the fact that she is pissed. its easy to calm her down, just leave her be for a bit. she will take the anger out on who earned it, not loved ones.

Leland - interruptions, hates them with a passion, along with fire and Rainie of course uwu its hard to calm him down, he has to let it boil down a bit really. he’s violent sometimes, otherwise he’s just cold. and no

Hood - hurting innocents gets her pissed, she gets violent and dont get in her way until she handles it herself. she’s never really taken her anger out on loved ones intentionally, once on Oliver but that was an accident...

Milo - its rare this detective has ever been seen angry, once or twice, mainly when others rights are violated or disrespect in general, deliberate harm to those close to him also pisses him off. once he’s at this point he is honestly ready to give someone a piece of his mind. he does become a bit cold and violent, but only towards who just earned it.

Violet - no such thing as anger for this gal, innocent as can be, never been seen angry.

🕊️ Would your OC ever get married or are they already wed? If they’re married, describe what their wedding was like! If not, describe their ideal wedding (or do this if you feel like it anyway!)

Universo - Marriage is indeed something done differently where he is from. if anything planning a wedding would be a lot of time consuming work, i mean blending both traditions maybe or just going with one or the other, just something simple as can just get the process handled and done. 

Artsy - marriage?! its a bit to soon to be thinking about that in her opinion. just something small, something simple, nothing huge like a lot of other people would dream. 

Leland -no, just no, doesnt like the idea of marriage. 

Hood - she might not recall what the wedding was like but she remembers that she is indeed married. but even drunk memories of this wouldnt even serve well. it was chaotic but also spent with friends, when i say drunk memories, she did get a but drunk near the end, of course after cake and vows! They did have to kick someone out, but i mean they were an unwanted guest so, they didnt need to be there.

Milo - just, he likes the idea of a small wedding a lot more than a huge one, a huge one would be a lot of work and he doesnt really think that he would be able to manage such.

Violet - no no no- gal doesnt know what marriage really is, os cant really answer that.

🌙 If your OC could have one wish come true what would it be and why? Would there be consequences to this wish or would they regret it once they get what they want? What would they give in return for this wish to come true?

Universo - one wish, he wouldnt want it really, give it to someone who needs it more.

Artsy - one wish...thats a bit too much to give her, to never have to go back to her home world... she wouldnt ever regret that..there is no point in going back to nothing...

Leland - he’d wish to not exist... im sure those consequences are clear

Hood - to have her memories back, the consequences are well, she knows a lot more of what she left behind, and the truth hurts a lot. she would regret it a little bit.. she wouldnt give everything for it, depends really..

Milo - every wish carries consequences, he’s happy with how everything is, woudlnt want it, not wanting to risk messing up anything.  

Violet - something simple really, want to go into inkwell a bit, explore. she might end up regretting it, depends on who she meets, which is also where consequences may come in as well

📚 If your OC was given some kind of forbidden knowledge, what would they do with it? Would they tell anyone? Use it for evil or good? How would it change their outlook on life, if at all?

Universo - trust me, he holds a lot of forbidden knowledge he keeps to himself, he wont tell anyone, wont use it, but it will change the way he looks at things, for the better or worse.

Artsy - that would be a bit stressing for her to keep it a secret, she’d write it down and then destroy what she wrote it on, keep it in mind when she would need to use it for good. change everything really

Leland - tell who he felt like, use it to benefit himself only, change a little on how he looks at life, at others.

Hood - ah yes, keep the knowledge to herself for the love of god no one will ever know once you tell her. use it for good, and well it would change a lot..

Milo - i mean he cant just blurt it out, have to end up writing or signing it, and he would just keep it to himself. use it for good, be a bit stressing really, change the way he looks at life for sure

Violet - she cant keep secrets to save her life, tell Harold about it. use it for good, change the way she looks at life for sure.

👑 If your OC was made royal (or is royal) how would they use their power? Are they a good leader or bad? Do their subjects like them or is it ‘off with their head’? Do they enjoy being royal?

Universo -  this angel has a huge heart, use his power for good, some would say make a pretty good leader. be hard to find someone who didnt like him really. and some days yes otherwise most of the time no.

Artsy - she’s used to taking orders, not giving them. she’s make a pretty good leader not gonna lie, benefit everyone in the kingdom. some people wouldnt like her, mainly because her cause is against theirs. most of the time she would rather not be one, probably all the time.

Leland - jeez- selfish needs, horrible leader, everyone would hate him. he’d enjoy the power.

Hood - oh god she hates royals with a passions so let us see, use it for benefiting the kingdom, be an okay leader, some subjects would respect her, there are always some that will never like her. hate being a royal with a passion

Milo - he would use this power to benefit the kingdom, help strengthen it. make a good leader after a few years of practice. being mute has its downfalls with having people like him, hard to talk with him. not really enjoy it, find it stressing.

Violet - gal would need guidance, be liable to being manipulated if it wasnt for Harold being there for sure. a lot of people would like her, she would be an okay leader, just naive. she..might enjoy it a little bit

☕ Give us one (or more if you feel like it) of your OCs deep dark secrets! Why do they keep it hidden? Spill the tea!

Universo - he hates and wishes he couldnt hurt others, its rare he’s fine with is but normally he feels horrible about it. sometimes he hates being this way because he seems to end up making the situation worse

Artsy - she, honest to god, considers herself a deserter. she keeps it to herself, she doesnt want others to know, its kiinda why she doesnt think she could be considered a hero to anyone.

Leland - He only enjoys hurting others because it takes his mind off of the pain he’s been through, only reason why really.

Hood - she is slowly breaking, only reason why she has shuji, she cant help but break for now, cant control it...

Milo - sometimes, sometimes he feels like he doesnt deserve what he earned, he keeps that to himself of course...

Violet - she, does know what happened to her parents, she isnt scared though, she wont tell you how, but Harold doesnt know she knows

[horansqueen]

BabyGirl 1.0

NOTES:

♥ this is based on a concept i received a few weeks ago and ppl asked that i made a story with it. ♥ i planned 3-4 long parts but i think it’ll be 8-10 short parts ♥ 3.7k. fluff. ♥ there may be smut but i doubt it and IF it happens it wont be as explicit as my other smut works. ♥ i didn’t proofread and if you read my stuff you know i never do because im a lazy ass. ♥ i would be SO SO SO happy to get feedback for this. please? ♥ if you have any questions please dont hesitate.  ♥ read part 2 HERE

                                        1.0  ♥ LIES & TIES ♥

HIM

The first time I met her, I noticed her. It was in the way she laughed, I think. That's what drew me to her first. Then, I noticed how clever and cheeky she was, but also how kind and generous she turned out to be. When I brought her outside to take her away from all the noise and music, it hit me how perfect her face looked through the moonlight, and how bad I wanted to kiss her. I made sure she was not panicking, and when our eyes met, I felt my heart twist. Maybe it was from all the beer I had swallowed, but I could swear it was from the way she actually looked at me: Intensely, like she was looking  for answers of existential questions through my eyes.

I remember the way her cold hands on my cheeks made a shiver run through my back, and how her warm lips against mine made me want to take a cab and bring her home. I had never felt my heart beat harder than that, and I remember thinking that I finally knew what it meant to be in love.

We wanted to take things slow, but the problem was that we couldn't stay away from each other. The waiting and the time apart didn't excite us, it actually made us miserable. When we both admitted that to each other, and to ourselves, we decided to take things as they came. And they came fast. But I didnt even feel nauseous or scared of the quick pace. Rather, it made my heart swell with all the feelings I had for her.

That's why I was a bit annoyed when I came home one day and she started asking me all these questions about our future and what I expected from this relationship. I was in a bad mood, just a bunch of small inconveniences that poured on me through the day, and rehearsing had been a pain in the ass. I didn't want to fight, but I also didn't want to sit down and talk about this.

I wanted a shower, a good fuck, and to watch the golf channel. But there she was, with her impossible questions and her crazy suspicions. Did I want kids with her? Why would she even ask that, at that very moment? I couldn't lie, we had talked about it a few times, late at night, in the darkness of my bedroom, but it was different than almost pressuring me into it, as if she wanted to start a family with me in the next hours.

We fought, and after telling her I could find an other girl, she stormed out. I couldn't blame her. I knew she was self-conscious, for no real reason in my opinion, and I twisted the knife deeper in the wound. I regretted my words as soon as they escaped my lips but it was too late and somehow, I felt like she wanted to leave anyway.

It took me months to call her again, which was quite surprising, knowing how close we used to be, but after that fight, I started questioning my feelings and hers. Did we really love each other? Would we really last? What was I missing by being in a steady relationship with an older girl whom I barely saw since I was always on tour or working?

One night, after getting drunk with the boys, I spilled my heart out to her on text, and when I realized she wouldn't answer, I cried. I cried like a fucking baby who had lost his mom forever. I cried like I had lost the love of my life. I cried because I knew it was really over, and that if I had called her before, maybe she would still be in my life.

"Mate, stop, why are you even crying?"

I sniffed, sitting up in bed and turning to Louis, a sudden realization coming through me.

"You! You call her and talk to her for me! Louis, you do it!"

I was not sure those were the words I used, and I probably slurred them a bit more, but it's how it sounded to me. Louis looked at me, raising his nose up. He never liked to get into his friends' business and the fact that he knew both of us made it even worse.

"You're her best mate! Call her! Please!"

I was literally begging my bandmate, the guy who was like a brother to me, to call my girlfriend for me. The girl who wouldn't even answer my text messages.

"I'm not her best mate at all. We're just... friends." he shrugged. "And I ain't gonna play matchmaker for you two. You got into this together, then work it out."

I felt my eyes burn again from the tears and stared at him intensely. I couldn't believe he was being so harsh with me and he finally turned to look at me and rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"Okay you know what? You get a rest and we'll discuss it tomorrow." he let out, clearly annoyed. "If you still want me to talk to her, I'll fly back home and pay her a visit. Just because I also need to see my family, alright?"

When he came back from that trip, though, he didn't mention anything. I waited, and waited, but after the third show we had in a row, I confronted him. It took him forever to answer and he just closed his eyes with a sigh. There was something he didn't want to mention, and I suspected she already had a new boyfriend.

"Look, Niall..." he sighed for a second time. "Just know that she doesn't want you back, okay? She's moved on, so you should do the same."

I wanted to ask more, I wanted to find out why she didn't want to be around me anymore, and why her love for me left so fast, but I just watched Louis get up and leave. I got drunk again that night, but I didn't message her. I threw my phone in a trash bin as soon as I found one and never looked back.

Perhaps, we weren't meant to be. After all, I couldn't dwell on the past or expect anything more if she didn't want it too. It was useless, and I had to mend the pieces of my heart back together quickly. We only have one life to live and I was one of the luckiest persons in the world. That's what I had to focus on.

God, I didn't know I was in for a ride.

HER

I met Niall one day that had started like all the others, except maybe the fact that Louis, who also happened to be a close friend of mine, had insisted I was there for his birthday. It was a cold december night and soon, I had felt overwhelmed by all the people, the noise and the alcohol. It was Niall who talked to me first, asking me if I was okay, and making sure I was not panicking. It was Niall who brought me outside, talked me out of my paranoia and helped me breathe. It was Niall who bent down to meet my eyes, made my heart melt, made me fall in love with him. And when it started snowing, I felt like I was in some sort of romantic Christmas movie.

We took things slow, and then we took things fast. I was happy with him and even if he was super busy and barely home, we always found ways not to let our relationship die. There was one day though... One day when everything changed.

When he walked inside, I was waiting for him, but I didn't think my heart would jump so high. He wasn't smiling like he normally does, and I thought that perhaps, something bad had happened at rehearsal. It made me nervous. Nervous to the point of swallowing the lump in my throat every 15 seconds. Nervous to the point of being nauseous and have sweaty hands. Nervous to the point of feeling like my whole future was going to be decided in the next hour of my life. I tried to push the bad thoughts away but without much success. I knew by just looking at his face that it was a bad time to have a serious discussion. I knew it was going to turn wrong. Thinking about it again, I realized I probably unconsciously wanted to fight with him to make things easier for both of us. I didn't want to ruin his life, and that's really what I felt I was doing.

"Do you want kids?"

He stopped dead in his track as the door closed behind him and turned to me, his lips now parted Clearly, he had a bad day and wasn't in the mood for this, but here I was, asking him some random question about the future, as if we never talked about it before.

I was so often at his place that it felt like home, but for some odd reason, I kept my own apartment. He had asked me a few times to move in, which was quite surprising coming from him, but I always refused. I was dating a rich kid in a boyband, the chances of him finding someone prettier, thinner and just simply better was very high, and I wasn't even sure why he was interested in me. He would probably tell me I need to be more confident, but I was not sure it was really what it was about. I was definitely not the most confident person in the world, but being scared to lose someone like Niall was not really just a part of my imagination.

"I..." he stopped, his eyes roaming on my face, and i tried to remain motionless, sitting straight on his sofa.

I was trying to keep eye contact but it wasn't as easy as I thought. I wanted to analyze his every reaction, as if it would change anything from what was about to happen.

"I already told you I wanted them, but later, when i'll be, i don't know..." he explained, raising his shoulders, shaking his head. "In my thirties?"

I felt my heart twist in my chest and I swallowed my tears, glancing down before looking back up in his eyes. He stared at me, slightly annoyed, slightly impatient, and I licked my lips.

"And, do you want them... with me?"

This time, it's fear I could read on his face. He was young, famous and rich. I could understand that the thought of promising his girlfriend to have babies with her was something scary. I was scared too, more than he could ever think, but I was doing my best not to show it.

"We're young, you know." he just said with a shrug. "I don't know what the future holds for us."

I closed my eyes and breathed in and out slowly and deeply. I wanted to insist, I had to insist. Even if I knew there was a big chance it would turn into an argument.

"I know, but you still plan on it, right?" I added, getting up. "You love me, and you want to spend your life with me, don't you?"

His face twisted again. I was aware I was asking a twenty-year old boybander if he wanted to spend his life with me. I was not even sure if he actually loved me and from seeing the expression on his face, I could tell he wasn't sure either. I loved him, though. Deeply, truly, with my entire being, I was in love with him, but I didn't expect him to return the feeling. In fact, I didn't expect anything. I couldn't expect anything.

"Why exactly are we having this discussion again?" he asked with a sigh. "I'm not ready to start a family, and you're not either. I'm going on tour in a few weeks, and it's not like we can really plan it anytime soon."

I kept silent and swallowed, glancing down at his feet. He had taken his shoes off and for some odd reason, I was endeared by the way he let his foot rub gently against the carpet. I wanted to move closer to him, I wanted him to engulf me in one of his incredibly satisfying and comforting hugs, but that was not going to happen.

"Plan it?" I just asked in a whisper, not even sure he actually heard me.

"Come on, love, look at me."

I breathed in and finally moved my chin up, my eyes meeting his immediately. He seems confused and still annoyed, but he called me love, and it made my heart melt every single time.

"Why are we talking about this?" he just wondered with a shrug. "I've had a bad day and to be honest, i'm really not in the mood for this shit."

Something stirred inside me when he talked and I felt tears burn my eyes. I had to do something, or else, I was going to cry and tell him everything.

"Shit? Are you fucking serious now?"

My answer took him by surprise and he raised his eyebrows, taking a short step back. I swallowed again and shook my head, closing my eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

"I'm older than you, Niall, and i've always wanted a family." I pointed out, trying to let anger take over and erase my sadness. "If you're not sure you want that, then there's no point in even keeping this up."

I grabbed my purse on the floor roughly and moved past him to reach the door. He quickly stopped me, blocking me with one of his arms, and I tried not to look at him, knowing too well It was the best way for me to crack.

"Woa, calm down ok! That's not what I said!"

"Okay but that's what I said." I answered, feeling my voice started to shake. "You don't want to discuss this seriously? Then I'm out."

Silence fell between us for a few seconds but he remained motionless.

"Now let me go."

Something clearly burst inside him because he moved his arm and suddenly got angrier than I've ever seen him.

"Yea? FINE THEN!" he swung both his arms exaggeratedly in the door's direction. "Just fucking leave! You think I'm gonna weep and cry? I can have ANYONE okay, ANYONE."

I deserved it. I deserved that outburst and I deserved his anger, but despite this fact, his words hurt me deeper than I could have imagined. He knew this was something that bothered me and made me insecure, and he used it against me. I felt myself tear up and turned to look at him. As soon as he saw my face, his expression changed into a guilty one and my eyes got smaller at the rage now invading my whole body and mind.

"Well good for you! You do that!" I expressed roughly, staring him. "You go get that fucking perfect girl and forget about me and all that we had! Who cares, right?"

I didn't want for his answer, I just rushed out. He could have ran after me but he didn't. I could have walked back in to tell him the truth but I didn't. I just drove home, sobbing the whole time of the ride, and walked into an empty apartment I hadn't seen in weeks. It was cold, sad, and most of all, it was Niall-less.

Out of pain, I threw my purse violently down, watching as its content scattered all over the wood floor. The only thing that actually reached my feet was a white stick. Watching it made me cry even more. I let myself fall on the cold floor and pressed my palms on my eyes. I didn't want all of this to happen. I didn't want to lose Niall. And thinking i'll never be close to him anymore makes me literally want to vomit. I pulled my hands away but I could barely see anything because of the tears. I reached for the stick and blinked a few times, trying to clear my eyes, and held my breath, looking at the pregnancy test I took only a few hours before.

Positive. The little plus sign seemed to get bigger and bigger as I stared at it, as if it was taunting me. I could almost hear it say "Hey, I just ruined your relationship! Now you're gonna have to raise that baby all alone!" But the truth was, I had ruined my own relationship. It was all me. I couldn't blame anyone else. The truth was, I knew it would ruin Niall's career, and I didn't want to lock him into a relationship and a situation he would feel miserable in. I didn't want to turn this talented and happy young man into a desperate and unhappy person, even if it would be despite myself.

That's why I never called him again, and that's why I didn't answer when he messaged me, a few months later. I knew he was on tour and I knew he sometimes got lonely in his hotel room, and it was definitely not a good reason to come back in his life. He was touring, he was happy, he was living his dream, and there was no way I was going to take that away from him. I would hate myself forever If i ever did that.

To my biggest surprise, it knocked on my door a few days after ignoring Niall's text messages, and I really didn't expect who was on the other side. I opened the door slowly, peeking out and my eyes got bigger when I saw Louis standing there. He looked tired but still amazing, and my lips curled at his sight. I didn't think twice and threw myself in his arms before he wrapped them around me. It only lasted a few seconds though and he quickly pulled away, his eyes falling on my growing stomach.

"Oh my... god."

I breathed in and my hand reached for my tummy, as if it could hide anything from my pregnancy.

"Is this... Is it...?"

"Louis, please come in, okay?"

I turned around and walked back inside, hearing him close the door behind us and I brought him to the nursery I had prepared. He stayed in the door frame, his eyes roaming on the pink walls, the stuffed animals, and the pure white drawers I had bought. It took him a whole minute to finally turn to me, his eyes dropping to my belly again.

"You have to tell Niall..."

"No!" I cut him straight and breathed in and out slowly. "And you can't tell him either."

"If it's his baby, he deserves to know..."

I raised my hand up, making him stop talking, and closed my eyes. I didn't expect Louis to be here, I didn't expect him to see me like this and discover my secret, but now that he had, I couldn't just let him leave and spill it all to Niall. I knew he would come back and try to work things out with me, and I couldn't let him ruin his tour and his life for me.

"Louis, you're my oldest friend." I argued, opening my eyes to meet his. "I've known you since I was a kid, and i'm begging you, in the name of our friendship, don't tell Niall. Please. He's happy, he's touring the world, he's doing what he likes... and I want that for him. I want him to keep doing that. I don't want to be the girl who forced him into a relationship and a family life."

Louis started at me for a while. He stared at me for so long that I thought he would never speak again. I tried to concentrate on my heart beating hard against my chest, hoping to get it back to a normal speed, but it's only when Louis nodded that a feeling of relief washed over me.

"Thank you."

He moved closer and stared at my belly again. I reached down and grabbed his hand, placing it on the side of it and when I felt the baby hit, my lips curled. His head raised up quickly and a surprised expression appeared on his face, making me chuckle.

"Fooking hell..."

This time, I laughed and he shook his head, leaving his hand on me.

"So this is real, you're gonna have Niall's baby."

My smile fell and his hand too. We looked up in each other's eyes with serious faces and I finally nodded.

"Most of all though, it's my baby." I explained. "And you need to promise me, Lou."

"What am I supposed to tell Niall? I told him i'd check on you and find out why you won't answer his messages."

I walked to the couch and sat on it. There was no real comfortable position and I gave up on trying to find one.

"He literally declared his love to me, you knew that? I mean, he's been ignoring me for months now. I can't be with someone who's there only when he wants to. I bet he was drunk and alone when he sent these texts?"

From Louis' expression, I knew I was right and I just shrugged.

"Just tell him I don't want anything to do with him anymore. He'll get over me, he'll find someone else. We both know it, right? He'll be happier this way."

Louis left and promised to call me from time to time. A few weeks later, I even received a large box full of goodies, from toys to diapers, and I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be friends with someone like him. I wanted him to be the godfather but I knew how unfair it would be to ask him to lie even more to a guy he considered his brother, so I didn't.

I thought it was all over. I thought i'd never see Niall again. I thought I was over him. Boy, I've never been more wrong in my entire life.

[onceabluemoonwrites]

Title: A Funeral Shroud of Tulle Author: OnceABlueMoon Rating: T Pairing: Kozato Enma & Suzuki Adelheid

Tags/Warnings: The Simon Massacre, trauma

Summary:   The thing people rarely remember about Enma was that his sister had been his twin. In which the Simon children raise themselves after the massacre, do a lot of damage to each other, and love each other anyway.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Written for the @khrrarepairweek   Vday Mini-Event 2019, for February the 13th, with the prompt ‘‘Backup Twin’‘

Kozato Chinatsu considered herself to be a very lucky woman, and it had a lot to do with her children. Since the minute they’d been born, she hadn’t stopped smiling, every day a ray of light. The twins were her treasure, with the island as a grand treasure chest. It was paradise.

She counted herself a very lucky lady, and the day she died she found out why.

Because her luck would run out before her time.

(She died trying to block the door to her son’s bedroom).

Entering the main house was hard- Adel had waited for nightfall before even attempting to leave her hiding place. She’d waited until the screams died down. She’d waited hours upon hours for someone to get her, but nobody came and she needed to confirm it was not because there was nobody left. She refused to believe that. She could not allow herself to believe that.

That did not make it easier to leave her hiding place. The fear of encountering the slaughterer of her people was ever present in her shaking body, but she strode forward. She could not stand still- if she stood still, she would die before their killer would even reach her. She would perish, falling to her knees, dying slowly of grief, and she could not stand still, could not let that happen.

She needed to find survivors. Having someone else to care for should distract her enough.

So. The main house.

She did not know what had been harder- walking past their corpses, or listening to their screams while being unable to do a thing about it, hiding in a closet, in the dark, praying to God nobody would find her.

She averted her eyes from Kozato-san when she came to Enma’s bedroom- it was okay. It was alright. Kozato-san might be dead, but surely, surely she’d have protected Enma. Kozato Chinatsu had loved the fiercest out of every person Adel knew, and her cold corpse could not mean anything, because death would not stop a love as fierce as that.

Adel had to believe that.

(Adel was lying through her teeth)

The corpse was small, the corpse was redheaded, and it still clutched the twin’s stuffed rabbit to its chest, even in death. The soft, worn white fabric was drenched in rusty red- blood beginning to dry.

Adel’s heart stopped.

Of course, she found out it was Mami later, but at the time she couldn’t bring herself to look at the mutilated body of her best friend. All she could think when she saw him, alive and well, was "Thank god it was Mami." It was ugly but true. She’d been so grateful he was alive. Perhaps that was were the difference in attitude after the massacre came from- whereas Adel thought "Thank god it was Mami,", Enma thought "Why was it Mami? Why not me?" And drowned in his own apparent uselessness, rid of his precious twin.

(The beginning of the end)

Adel was ten and she had no idea what to do, but she did know they had to leave the island. They didn't have the manpower to bury the corpses of their family, and even if they did, she was pretty sure they wouldn't have been able to take doing it anyway. They had to leave the island, the corpses unburied, trauma rampant.

Julie was the one who stopped them from going immediately. He was eleven, the eldest, and even though he never had a leading bone in his body, he knew about stuff. Like the fact that if they went out there, they'd be put in the system.

“We won't last a day out there- seven kids living alone will be noticed. On the other hand... Seven kids and a slightly absentee guardian? It'll attract attention, but it could work.”

Adel sized him up. “...Who are you going to impersonate?”

Julie grimaced. “The person with the most money on the island. Kozato Makoto.”

Enma, to say the least, did not take it well.

Seeing his dead father’s face was far from Enma’s biggest problems, though it was a painful one. Honestly, most of the time he couldn’t look in the mirror. Mami’s face was staring back at him. He saw her grow up there, along with him, until his jaw was wide, his shoulders broad, and stubble encroached on his cheeks. Then he couldn’t pretend it was her anymore.

(It broke him a little)

Sometimes, it was like Enma had died instead of Mami. At first, it was subtle. Enma’s countenance became fiercer, more like the leader he’d never really been to them. Adel thought it was a result of the slaughter of their family- but soon it became clear it was not.

Not at all, really. Because Enma’s hair was growing out. First past his chin. Then his shoulders. Then his waist. Long, red hair, tumbling down his back, wavy curls framing his face. This was the second sign.

The third, however, was unmistakable. The long skirts, the dresses. The plastic cherries on the elastics he used to do his hair. They’d been Mami’s favourite when she was still alive.

That was what did it. The realization struck her like a lightning bolt, leaving charred skin, burned hair and the stench of ozone behind.

The fierce attitude, the hair, the clothing, the way he talked to them even. Everything was modelled after his sister. It was like Kozato Enma had disappeared into the mists of time, obscured under the ghost of his sister. Adel felt like throwing up.

She didn’t know what to do.

(She never did)

Life went on. They went to school. They ate. They survived. And slowly, very slowly, they healed. Enma did not stop pretending to be Mami, and while uncomfortable with it, nobody spoke up about it. Not until it got worse.

Enma was approaching thirteen now and hitting his first growth spurt. He shot up in height, his jaw was widening, becoming squarer, and his shoulders were becoming broader. The dresses could not hide it. He bought frillier ones anyway.

It was when she saw plastic surgery sites in his internet history that Adel snapped.

"Enma, Mami's the dead one. She was buried. Not you. Not you!" Adel picked up the scissors and grabbed his hair harshly- long strands of blood red hair falling to the ground as if shedding the hair would make Mami's funeral shroud fall off Enma's shoulders. Enma's shaking, and Adel had no idea what she was doing- for all she might know she just caused even more trauma- but... Adel has had no idea what she had been doing since she was ten and fished her friend from the ashes left of their village. Since she took them from among the corpses. So she says the only thing that kept her going at that time: "Even if you feel like you're being buried alive, rescue the others from the same fate before you let them suffocate you forever." He listened. It was like Mami died all over again, and all that was left is a crying boy in a frilly pink skirt, red hair choppy, unevenly cut. Short. It was hard, but it was a beginning. It was grieving Mami all over again, it was Enma figuring out how to be Enma instead of Mami. It was a lot of things. Enma was not the leader Mami-Enma was, but Adel believed in him. He would make it. (Enma never grew his hair out again).

The Enma before Tsuna wore black hoodies and jeans. The Enma before Tsuna was bullied terribly. The Enma before Tsuna was so filled with grief and rage, every single thing brought up to the surface again. The Enma before Tsuna attacked.

The Enma with Tsuna was still sad. He still got bullied. He still didn’t know who he was, but by now he’s realized that would probably be something he’ll chase after his whole life. The task of a lifetime, finding out who one is. But the Enma with Tsuna also has friends; People not as easily dragged into the rage and the desperation and the grit of their nightmares. He is less angry, happier, and he wears flowy lavender blouses that make him soft and sweet but do not hide his broad shoulders in any way. His hair is short, the memory of being Mami-Enma forever haunting him, as if growing his hair out again would tempt him into falling back into old bad habits.

The Enma with Tsuna made Adel question herself a lot. Both the actions she had taken in the years before, as well that one disastrous conversation that may have helped him for the better, but had most likely damaged him terribly as well. There are misunderstandings to be cleared up, and Adel won’t let corpses lie unburied (and believe her, she has buried far too many).

The Enma with Tsuna is the one Adel goes to talk to.

‘'...You know I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be a girl, right? It’s just being Mami that I had a problem with. Because you’re Enma. You’re Enma and I love you for you, however you want to be.’'

Enma looked up, hands caressing the grass they were seated upon softly, and the expression on his face so gentle, so sweet, that Adel could not help but hold her heart, breathless. ‘'I don’t think I’m a girl, Adel. I don’t really think I’m a boy either. I’m just... Enma.’'

A smile crept up on Adel’s face as she took his hand, laying back into the grass and enjoying the warm afternoon sun. ‘'That’s enough, Enma. That’s more than enough.’'

[cosmostellar]

Connie in Stevens role au

Connie was mostly raised by the crystal gems, struggles with social interactions, feels isolated from the Beach City ppl

a first few episodes are mostly just Connie interacting with the gems, you get to know who the gems are on the surface level + Connie’s father is introduced

Connie’s dad is still a security guard and Connie is very insistent that it’s not only her moms who fight for the gems, her dad does too!!

Doug is initially disregarded as a “just human” by the gems, but later becomes a more active part of the team and is never left helpless

however, he does travel throughout the entire state most of the time

he always finds some time for his daughter when Connie wants to talk via phone and loves her deeply, but sometimes Connie feels like he isn’t there enough which only adds to her general anxiety

Connie is a pretty cautious person, her big issue at first is how much she overthinks things and hesitates - she wants to help the gems but she isn’t sure how

she brings the fresh blood of new ideas and new outlook into the gems’ life

she reads A LOT, both fiction and non-fiction, and often talks to the crystal gems about the past events, even the brutal ones such as wars; easily makes connections between whatever she reads about and whatever is happening in the gems’ lives or happened in the gem history, is more inquisitive abt the gem history than Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl wish she was at this age

Pearl constantly gets fictional stories and non-fiction mixed up sfddsfd Connie is like “George Washington” and Pearls like “oh isnt he that mage from that book youve read last summer???”

Pearl is EXTREMELY frustrated abt things such as Arthurian myths because it EITHER IS HISTORY OR IT ISNT HISTORY WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT CONNIE

and Connie is like “well you were there right???”

Pearl, remembering how she was thirsting after Rose in the middle ages: .......i do not think i was in that particular place during that time period, no

oh RQ =/= PD in this au, Rose Quartz was just a soldier with a lot of secrets who helped an enslaved Pearl escape, she did indeed shatter Pink Diamond + Pearl was indeed a renegade

the Bismuth arc plays out COMPLETELY DIFFERENT because Connie always needs to see and understand all sides of the conflict and even then she sometimes can’t decide or feels uncomfortable with deciding, in a way she is fascinated by Bismuth’s new perspective but v unsure bcs this is not how she was taught, they sit down and talk together for a very long time

Connie is generally not as uncomfortable with the idea of killing for the greater good since she knows history, she still feels weird with the idea of doing it herself and would rather spare people if she had to

she sometimes struggles with expressing or even understanding her feelings very much which makes the gems initially think she’s much more mature and responsible than she really is

Amethyst is from the beginning introduced with attempts to deal with her issues; she tries to put her self-worth into the hands of others, that is, she is the one who goes to Beach City, she is the one known by everyone there, she seems outgoing, she has friends there

or rather “friends” bcs no one really knows how insecure Amethyst is under all this Attitude, they only know one side of her and Amethyst feels even worse because in some way she is just fooling people into liking her since she can’t make Garnet and Pearl like her

she doesn’t realize that the part of her Beach City people like is also her

Connie is just the awkward girl always hanging in the background and has a much worse relationship w/ Beach City people than Amethyst does, she has a hard time connecting to people

first real attempts she makes are actually bcs Amethyst encourages her to do so which probably leads to Connie discovering more abt Amethyst’s self-worth issues

(before that Amethyst is kinda The Coolest for Connie since Connie really wishes she was better with people and Amethyst has that trait, people look at her and talk to her and she is amazing and Connie is just there, too awkward to stutter a full sentence)

at some point after shes more socially developed Connie decides to actually go to school because there are so many things the gems simply can’t teach her (this is also connected to her arc of idealizing the gems less and less, she has so many questions they are unable to answer)

during the Homeworld arc Connie tries to get her way out of there, helps Blue Zircon with the case, they actually manage to run away together

Blue Zircon is super anxious after that and Connie is too so its GREAT

there would be no murder mystery so there’d have to be a different kind of trial put there BUT: Connie takes Blue Zircon to Earth and they become very very good friends because they are both extremely inquisitive and interested in puzzles and logical solutions

Connie shows Blue Zircon mystery novels and Blue Zircon is DELIGHTED

Connie-Peridot mutual awkwardness

Peridot and Lapis are an actual addition to the cast, appear regularly, have their own motives

EACH BEACH CITY EPISODE IS MADE TO FURTHER AN ARC OF ONE OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS, EITHER CONNIE OR ONE OF THE GEMS

at first they are mostly abt Connie’s social anxiety and her attempts at understanding the human part of her heritage better, she reads about it a lot but she wants to have a better insight in practice

and also the whole Amethyst thing

an episode that is just Pearl taking Connie to some party the kids from school throw

Pearl thinks it’ll be HardcoreTM but its really just kids sitting around talking, Pearl is awkward

gOOD GOD LET PEARL HAVE ACTUAL INTERACTIONS WITH HUMANS, LET PEARL STOP SEEING THE PLANET EARTH AS ROSES-AND-ONLY-ROSES THING, LET PEARL FALL IN LOVE WITH THE THING SHE’S FIGHTING FOR FINALLY BECAUSE OF THIS INCREDIBLE LITTLE HALF-HUMAN WHO WONT LET HER FORGET THAT PEOPLE CAN BE COOL

at some point after heavy stuff happens Connie starts seeing a therapist

Lapis is also encouraged to do so, the idea Lapis is at first repulsed by and it takes her some time to actually see it in the realm of possibilities

Connie starts seeing a therapist because of Doug’s influence and help

Doug, as a guard, went through pretty heavy stuff himself and therapist’s help is just a very natural part of his life and he knows it helps and he doesnt want to leave his daughter completely alone with her psyche after so many fucked up events including the whole intergalactic war thing

Lapis and Peridot do live together but only after they get to know each other better and are able to be healthier and more functional with each other

Lapis doesnt know where to stay and for some time shes just a free bird, she disappears and reappears randomly; she is afraid of commitment, she is afraid of finding someone she’ll like, she is terrified of facing her own feelings, its bizzare how shes finally free and all she really wants is to lie somewhere and die

in some ep she meets Doug who kinda takes care of her in this non-invasive way Lapis needs which makes Lapis come back more and more; she doesn’t officialy travel with him but she kinda does, for some time

bcs goddamit Lapis’s problems are fucking heavy and she needs adults who will help her figure it out, Connie is like what, thirteen??

aka: Lapis is Doug’s grumpy adopted teenage daughter and you can f ight me

also Pearl dates some human women, then Bismuth is unbubbled and after some time she and Pearl slowly start having a thing

it’s an incredible chance for Pearl to actually revise her past: to bring the events of the war to the surface and see them from a new perspective, to have a new understanding of herself and her past actions, to finally deal with all those heavy fucked up feelings that have never been properly worked through because Rose never really gave her the chance or support to do so

it’s sometimes very ugly, and it’s a lot of crying, and sometimes Pearl is just weeping silently for a very, very long time, but Bismuth is there for her

since Bismuth isnt rebubbled in this au bcs Connie actually listens to her point, Bismuth is keeping up the facade of just being magically found in the lion for some time more

one day when Pearl is just hanging with her in her workshop Bismuth finally tells her abt why Rose bubbled her which brings a whole new light to the picture of Rose Quartz Pearl has; Pearl has never thought that Rose could bubble someone like this, especially someone like Bismuth

Pearl is the support Bismuth needs, Bismuth is the support Pearl needs

Lion actually has a name here bcs Connie names him - more specifically, like 343234 different names because Connie is so damn indecisive

Connie asks questions. so many questions