#on another note. i cannot remember ever being comforted when i cried since i was a very small child

[authorofemotion]

huh. healthy support systems of people in your life who care about you and will do something about it seem great. wish they were real

[cyncerity]

NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS BUT HERE IT IS ANYWAY

Ok so Store Shifter AU this takes place after Dream is semi-comfortable growing back to human size and he’s met Karl and Q and he knows Sapnap and Tommy are shifters. Yes that is all important for context in this story.

This started with me wanting to write fluffy Disc Duo noms and it became so much longer I apologize but my love of writing dialogue cannot be held down

tw: soft, safe vore, injuries (nothing graphic but people get hurt), intrusive thoughts ig?

it’s past 2 am i just really wanted to finish this

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Dream was still getting used to a few things now that he knew he was a shifter. Nothing too unbearable, it had been a little while since he had learned properly what he was and how to deal with it all, but some things were definitely harder than others. As far as he was concerned, he still grew a few inches every time someone startled him a bit. But this was…different.

It had started with the weird smells in the store. Like someone had lit a giant candle that smelled like the best thing he could imagine. Then it started to get weirder. The smell would almost shift slightly depending on where he was, maybe being sweeter or spicier or more sour. Then he noticed it only changed when he was around different people. At first he thought maybe it was a coincidence and people were just using a new deodorant or something, but why was it so weirdly strong? Why did it make him feel weird? What was wrong with him??

He made another horrifying discovery later while talking to Punz. They were just restocking in the back, talking as usual when Dream once again took note of how his friend smelled. He smelled like that unidentifiable aroma that had filled the store, mixed with some sort of vanilla or tea. It was heavenly. Dream made the horrifying discovery that he was practically drooling at the scent. Punz didn’t just smell good, no…he smelled appetizing.

It only got worse as he managed to subconsciously pinpoint a scent to every one of his friends, and he soon realized that the unidentifiable good smell was just humans in general. Every time the store opened the air would fill with the scent, and Dream started wearing a face mask just in case he ever forgot to swallow back down the drool that had built up. It was getting increasingly harder to deal with, to say the least.

He hit a breaking point during his lunch break only a few days later. He went to the staff room, heating his shitty microwave burrito and taking a bite only to spit it back out seconds later. It was absolutely disgusting, to the point where he couldn’t even stand eating it. So, he tried something else in the communal fridge. Tasted like dog shit. Another thing, same result. He was starving, why did everything taste awful? What was he going to do? Why was the only appealing thing people? No way he would ever…

He shut that thought down as quickly as it came up. No, that was stupid to think about, just…no. That could never happen, he wouldn’t go that far, ever. But, there was only one person who might know how to actually help him. He hated to bug him on his day off, but at least he knew he was still in the store.

He went over to his personal cubby and reached for the little box he had hidden taped in the top corner of the locker. He sent a quick text to Foolish that he’d be out for a bit and to run the shop while he was away before pulling his borrower clothes out of the box.

He was pretty sure he remembered where Ni- Sapnap’s base was, it shouldnt be too far.

***

“No man, I’m telling you, you gotta eat someone.”

“No! That’s…no, absolutely not! You cannot be serious, there has to be another way!!” Dream cried, hands pulling back his hair roughly as he tried to process what Sapnap was saying. He paced across the floor of the “living room,” really just the biggest room Sapnap and his fiancés had carved out (he wondered how they had even done that to begin with but this really wasn’t the time to ask) where they kept actual chairs and most of their chests and clothes. Sapnap just shrugged from where he was seated on one of the makeshift chairs, idly fiddling with the multicolored braid he wore around his own waist that Dream now knew represented his relationship with Quackity and Karl.

“What will happen if I don’t? It’ll just go away…right?” “I wish.” Sapnap responded, dejectedly dropping the braid back down to where it hung at his side. “Take it from someone who waited too long. Bad shit happens.” “What kinda bad shit?” Dream asked quietly, sitting next to Sapnap. The other shifter sighed as he continued, making a point not to make eye contact. “This was a few years ago, only a short while after I shifted for the first time. About as long as it’s been for you, actually. I started to feel…restless. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t be around people, it was bad. But, I thought I could take it. Just, ride it out, y’know? But…I snapped. I didn’t have many people I cared about left after…” he went silent. Dream figured he hadn’t meant to add that bit, and he could only assume he was about to talk about whatever had unlocked his shifter instinct.

“…you don’t have to talk about it.” Dream muttered, placing a hand on Sapnap’s shoulder. Sapnap just sighed and patted his hand in response. “I know, it’s just…still hurts, yknow? Even after all this. My dads, they…it’s complicated. Long story short, my relationship with my dads after I became a shifter was…strained, to say the least. Didn’t help that one day after the incident my biological dad took me out for a walk to try and get closer with me again and a hawk attacked us. I…I lost control. I vaguely remember shifting, not even to a full human size, only a few feet tall, just big enough to eat him. I remember fighting my father out of that damn things claws, but I didn’t stop there. Some instinct in me didn’t think he was safe yet, so…” his breath hitched, but he took a deep breath in and out and continued on anyway.

“So, I swallowed him. I was completely out of it, just growling and hissing, I don’t even remember if that bird survived the encounter or not, I just remember coming back and feeling thrashing in my stomach, hearing my dad sobbing, begging for his life, begging me to let him live. It…I hate to be dramatic, but I think it was just as scary for me as it was for him. It hurts to hear someone you love think you’re gonna kill them. It…yeah, it sucked. I spit him out and ran. I took Quackity and Karl and never went back.” “How is your dad now? Is he doing better with…the whole shifting thing?” Sapnap just laughed sadly in response. “Fuck if I know. When I said I never went back, I meant it. The last time I ever saw him was right after I spat him out, never again since.” “That’s…that’s horrible. Do you even know where he is?” “No, but I don’t think I need to. The look of disgust on his face when he saw me shift for that first time was enough, I don’t need to see what he thinks of me now that I literally ate him alive, even if it was a while ago.”

“…I think you should try and make up with him, if you ever see him again. He’s your dad, i’m sure he’s forgiven you.” ‘I’m sure he still loves you’ goes unsaid, but Dream is sure Sapnap knew what he meant. “Your perception on what is forgivable by borrower standards may be a little skewed, since you’re a human born shifter. As far as he probably thinks, I tried to actually eat him. That’s one of the top things borrowers live in fear of; being eaten.” “Right…” he trailed off. They sat in silence for a moment before Dream decided to change the conversation to something that he really didn’t want to bring up but probably should.

“This may be a bit of an odd question, and this is really awkward, but I really don’t know who else-” “Yeah, you can eat me.” Sapnap interrupted, a smug look on his face that showed he knew exactly where that comment was going. “Just, you should know that it’s a protective instinct. Some weird fucked up mix of a predator drive and a nesting phase, but you’re gonna be most inclined to do it when people you love are in danger.” “So what are you saying?” “I’m saying that eating me will make your instincts die down a little, enough that you’ll probably at least be able to eat normal food again, but it won’t work fully. And, I love you man, but you don’t know me that well, all things considered. I’m not part of what your brain considers to be your ‘pack.’” “So what do I do?? If you’re not part of my ‘pack’ or whatever the fuck, who else can I…I don’t even wanna fucking say it, but you know what I mean. I know Karl and Quackity even less, and you’re the only borrowers I know at all! There’s literally no member of my pack as small as you…er, us, right now, I guess.” “Oh, Dream…” Sapnap just trailed off, looking worried. Dreams eyes widened. “Don’t ‘oh, Dream’ me, what are you about to say, what did I say, what’s wrong?”

“Shifting isn’t just about going back and forth between borrower and human size. You’d probably…I mean, more than likely..do what I did. Grow.” “What do you mean…?” Dream asked quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer. Sapnap stared off, trying to ignore the fear in Dream’s voice. “I mean grow. Giant. Bigger than human size. Big enough to..to swallow another human. It’s possible, i’ve done it. Not swallowed a human, I mean, just grown bigger than human size. And once you do it once, it becomes easier for that to be a default. Believe me, growing bigger by accident can be a real pain in the ass.” Sapnap finished, and Dream just slowly took it all in. Great, just fucking perfect. So he could be giant, too, not just tiny, why the fuck not? And he could possibly, maybe, accidentally just eat one of his employees or customers. Fucking fantastic. “…ok, great.” Was all he could think to respond with. What else could he say? Every fucking day he was just being reminded more and more that he could never go back to the life he had. He could never be human again, and he hated it. Sapnap seemed to sense this, and just rested a hand on Dream’s shoulder to comfort him. Dream couldn’t do much else other than lean into it.

***

Dream decided to go back to work after using his lunch break to talk to Sapnap, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best decision. Sapnap had told told Dream that they could both take the day off tomorrow so he could guide Dream through how to…eat him (and god did it feel wrong for him to be thinking of that), since he had promised his fiancés he’d help them borrow some heavier supplies that day, and he was the strongest of the three. But Dream didn’t have much else to do other than go back to his job, so that’s what he did, despite not really wanting to be around people at the moment. He was distracted and distant as he went through his checklists, helped customers, and did other menial manager tasks.

It all really started to go wrong when he agreed to help Foolish grab something from a higher shelf in the back.

Really, he should have been paying more attention. All he had to do was hold the damn ladder steady as Foolish grabbed a heavier supply box. But his mind was somewhere else, clouded and distracted, distantly more focused on the revelation that Foolish smelled of salt water taffy and gummies than keeping the thing holding his little brother ten feet off the ground steady.

So when Foolish grabbed the crate and accidentally shifted his weight a little to far to the right when he was about halfway down the ladder, it shouldn’t have been a huge surprise that he fell, and fell hard.

Had Dream been paying more attention, maybe he could have steadied the ladder, or warned him, or maybe have even broken his fall. But as it was, Dream was fully out of it until Foolish hit the ground with a pained yelp and a thud from the crate, barely missing his shoulder. God, a few more inches and that would have crushed him.

Dream ran over to help, because shit, that was his little brother. His little brother who was groaning in pain on the floor, who was injured because of something he could have prevented, whose breathing was evening out as his consciousness faded, who was lying injured on the ground and he didn’t even know how bad the injury was and-

Dream felt something wrong. Physically wrong, not just in his head this time. Something in his gut tightened, constricting within him, sight blurring and mind unable to penetrate through the agony-filled haze. He dropped to the ground, unable to keep himself upright, desperately clutching at his middle in a feeble attempt to ease the pain, pain worse than almost anything he’d ever felt. He couldn’t even yell, everything in him was taught, tightened as far as it could be, all he could do was make pathetic squeaks with the noises he forced out of his closed up vocal chords in place of screams as he sobbed quietly on the ground. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, clutching his gut as tears dripped down his face onto the floor, but it couldn’t have been long before something spoke out in his head, without tone or a voice, just an all encompassing urge.

‘Store him’

Dream squeezed his eyes shut, avoiding looking at his brother now lying limp on the floor. ‘Store him.’ He clutched at his head, yanking his hair, trying to give himself anything else to think about. ‘He’s hurt. He can’t get hurt if he’s in you.’ His breathing became more sporadic as something akin to a migraine started, and his clothes felt just a bit tighter. ‘You hurt him. Help him. Store him. You want to.’ Dream cracked an eye open only to come to the horrifying realization that he was bigger than he’d been a few seconds ago. ‘I want to.’ Dream tried to ignore the all encompassing emptiness he felt within him. ‘I don’t want him to hurt. I’ll help him. He’ll be safe within me. I love him.’ Dream hated that the instinct in his mind had shifted it’s point of view. He didn’t want these thoughts. They weren’t his. He didn’t want them to be his.

The thing that snapped him out of his thoughts was the circulation in his limbs starting to be cut off. He belatedly realized that he was now much bigger than he had meant to be, not that he had meant to be big at all. He didn’t know exactly how tall he was, but Foolish looked…he looked small. Not just because of the size difference. Foolish had always been so much larger than life, ever since they were kids. Seeing him limp just felt…wrong. What he belatedly realized was that Foolish was about as tall as the length from his palm to his elbow. Still fairly tall, definitely not the size difference between a borrower and a human, but still fairly small. He remembered what Sapnap had said about the last time he’d seen his father; that he hadn’t grown to human size in order to eat him, only just big enough to swallow him down. Dream looked at himself in comparison to his brother and thought he now knew what Sapnap had meant. Like a snake and a rat, or some other larger rodent; they never looked like they could get something that big down, but somehow they managed it. Dream was horrified to realize that if he truly wanted to, right at that moment, he probably could. It wouldn’t be comfortable, and there was even a chance he would choke and pass out from lack of oxygen before he got him down, but with enough determination, he definitely, terrifyingly, could.

His body seemed to belatedly realize that his limbs were starting to turn purple from the constriction of his clothes, and now that the instict not-voices had died down a bit from the initial shock of seeing Foolish hurt, he began to shrink back down, thank god his clothes were actual an good, durable material. And thank god again that no one had walked in during all that. And while he was thinking that, thank god a third time that he was the only one with a key to the security room. It would be an absolute train wreck if anyone but him saw…whatever had just gone down here.

In the end, Dream just ended up sending an emergency notification to Punz, telling him to get to the back rooms immediately, and just left. As much as it hurt him to leave his injured brother, the instinct was still there, as it had been for days, and the pain in his gut had dulled down to a more muted but still definitely noticeable pain. He didn’t want to risk what could happen if he stayed, even if the worst seemed over with. He didn’t want to risk Foolish learning what a monster he was. He’d be better at home, alone.

***

Suffice to say, Dream wasn’t all that happy when his front door opened after he’d only been there for about twenty minutes. Maybe Foolish had stopped by? Or Punz? But did they even know he’d gone home? Maybe Sapnap…wait did Sapnap know his address? Did he even know how to use a computer well enough to look it up in the system? Maybe he’d-

All of Dream’s thoughts were cut off as he smelled something entirely new, but familiar all the same. Something sweet, but slightly sour and bitter, like strawberries that weren’t quite red and ripe. That and, oh yeah, the entirely unfamiliar scent of burned and melted flesh and peanut oil, weirdly enough.

Dream’s gut twisted painfully again as he practically tripped down the stairs from his bedroom to the living room to see Tommy standing there, dropping his bag by the door like he always did, except this time there was a noticeable section of his forearm wrapped in bandaging, but his son just stared at him with confusion. “Shouldn’t you be at wo-“ “What the hell happened to your arm?!” Dream interrupted as he ran to close the distance between them, grabbing Tommy’s arm to see what had happened, only to let go a second later when heard his son hiss in pain. “Sorry, sorry, I just…” Dream’s words trailed off as the pain in his stomach became worse and the urges started to ring out again, although softer then last time. ‘He’s hurt, I let him get hurt, I can put him somewhere he can’t get hurt again.’ And oh great, it started in the first person this time. At least they were easier to ignore. Tommy, entirely unaware of Dream’s internal conflict, just sighed. “I’m fine, big D. Had an accident with the fryer, that’s all. Just dropped the fry cage a bit too fast and some of the oil splashed on my arm. It’s not a huge deal, didn’t really bleed, barely hurts at all anymore after Wil had me pop like four Advils. It’ll probably be one hell of a nasty scar, though.” ‘I wasn’t there for him when he was hurt. I will put him somewhere where he can’t get hurt again.’ The instinct rang out, a bit louder this time, loud enough for Dream to notice the worrying shift in wording. It was minor, but he didn’t like how it had already changed from ‘I can’ to ‘I will.’ Tommy, apparently mistaking Dream’s lack of response for a prompt to continue explaining, went on. “I didn’t even think I needed to come home, really. Just, y’know, restaurant policy, I can’t exactly work with food while I have an actively…well not really bleeding, but something is certainly leaking from it. Looks gnarly as fuck, though, you should’ve seen it, big man. Anyway, the store can’t really take another hit from the health department, so here I am. Probably for the best so it doesn’t get infected, anyway. I just didn’t expect y-…um, Dream..?” Tommy cut himself off. Dream, who was only half paying attention, snapped his head back to Tommy. Or, at least, where Tommy should be. Where had he gone? And why were his clothes so tight agai- oh god damnit.

Dream looked down to see Tommy, just staring at him with a confused expression. In Dream’s panic he actually managed to shift back down on his own free will, which he’d pat himself on the back for later, but for the moment, he was a bit concerned about what Tommy had just seen. “Uh..I- uh…” “Are you ok?” Dream kind of froze at that. “What?” “Are you ok?” Tommy asked again, more firmly this time. “You’ve never accidentally shifted big before, and you’ve been kinda hunched over and pale, not to mention you smell like you’re in pain.” Now it was Dream’s turn to be confused. “..Smell...?” “It’s like…hmm…like you’re regular scent, but more…less good, that make sense? Like, not as…appetizing? Would that be a good word to use?” Dream kinda just stared, only moving to blink. “How can you even-“ “Don’t tell me you forgot I was a shifter.” And, oh, right, of course Tommy would know about all of that, he was a shifter. Dream didn’t know how he forgot that, other than he’d just assumed Tommy was human for so long that it was still weird to think he was anything else. “Right, duh. Sorry.” Dream asked, facepalming at his own stupidity. He’d chalk that one up to his instincts fucking with his brain for days on end.

“You’re also drooling a lot, y’know.” Tommy pointed out unhelpfully, making Dream’s eyes snap open as he became once again painfully aware of the emptiness in his stomach, and how much his instincts would love for the kid in front of him to fill that void. The still potent smell of his injury didn’t help quell his instincts much, either. “S-sorry, sorry, I really don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Dream lied, wiping the excess spit from his lips. “I just started to feel a bit sick, kind of an upset stomach, so I came home early.” Tommy didn’t look like he quite believed him, but he just shrugged. “Whatever you say. Though…are you sure that’s all it is? Definitely nothing else?” “Yes, I’m sure.” Dream said firmly, because what else could he say? ‘No, actually, I’m very not ok cause I almost ate Foolish earlier and now I want to eat you?’ Yeah, right, not gonna happen. Even though Dream’s stomach seemed to disagree as it made a louder-than-he-would-have-preferred gurgling sound that he quickly tried to dampen with his hand and a fake coughing fit. Tommy just kind of inspected him for a little while longer before sighing and seemingly giving up.

“…Alright then, man, I hope you feel better soon. You should probably go take a nap or something, you seem like you need it. Not to be rude, but you look like absolute shit right now.” Dream scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure I do. A nap doesn’t sound too bad. Just, make sure to replace your bandage, its starting to get yellow. There’s a medkit and disinfectant under the bathroom counter.” Dream turned to go back up the stairs as he heard Tommy swear behind him, mostly likely cursing out the fact that he already had to change bandages and re-clean his wound. But, he’d be fine to do it by himself. The last thing Dream wanted was for his urges to become too strong and to scare his kid. So, he retired to his bedroom for the night, quickly changing into pjs and doing his best to ignore the hungry sounds coming from his gut, adamantly refusing to give in to what it wanted. Just a few more hours. A few more hours and then Sapnap could show him how to fix this.

***

Dream woke up to a weird weight on his face and some thing poking at his eye, which was honestly probably one of the worse ways to wake up. His first thought was that a rat had somehow gotten in his house as he yelled and jolted up, suddenly far more awake than he’d been seconds ago, although his mind was still clouded with sleep. The thing on his face yelled out as it practically used his face as a springboard to grab onto his hair, now that the surface it had been sitting on had gone vertical. He yelled out again as he desperately tried to grab the thing from his head, only to hear more yelling in response, and, probably more importantly, words. He let himself freeze for a moment so he could actually hear what was being said, and he finally registered his own name. “Dream! Dream!! It’s just me! Jesus fuck, calm down, let me down! It’s me!!” Dream reached over to his bedside and clicked a lamp, going cross eyed as he tried to look at the figure dangling less than an inch from his face.

“Tommy? What the fuck are you doing??” “Can you understand me?” “Huh??” “Can. You. Understand. Me.” “Uh…yeah??” “Then let me the fuck down!!” He cried, still dangling helplessly by Dream’s hair. He wasted no time in bringing his hands up under his now shrunken son, who let go of his hair almost instantly and fell into his waiting hands. “Thank fuck. I didn’t know how long it’d been since you shrunk, I was honestly just hoping for the best. It’d probably have scared you a lot more if I’d woken you up and you’d only heard squeaking.” Tommy laughed, though Dream’s brain substituted something much more sinister and worrying. ‘I could have hurt him. If I didn’t know it was him, what would I have done? I need to keep him safe.’ His stomach tightened up even worse, and he muffled the pained noise he was tempted to make. Shit, why was he in here? And why was he small?? Of all the times for him to decide to shrink and go in his room, this was definitely one of, if not the worst. And as if to prove his point, his stomach made a louder noise than earlier, but Dream chose to ignore it in favor of turning his attention back to Tommy. “What are you doing in here this late? And why are you small?? You…you really shouldn’t be in here right now.” He moved to set Tommy down on the floor next to his bed, where he couldn’t reach him, but Tommy jumped off his hands and into his lap instead. ‘It’d be so easy,’ his instincts rang even louder, ‘I wouldn’t have any trouble getting him down. Keeping him safe.’ Dream pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He couldn’t be thinking like this. Not with Tommy here. “I’m not leaving.” Tommy said with a resolve Dream couldn’t even imagine coming out of Tommy’s mouth. “I’m not leaving until you feel better.” Dream dropped his hands to look Tommy in the eye. “Tom, you don’t understand. You don’t know what’s going on, you have no idea what I want to do to y-“ “Let me rephrase that.” Tommy interrupted. “I’m not leaving until you eat me.”

“…What?”

“You heard me, bitch. Either you eat me or I sit here all night making your instincts worse until you snap.” He said, matter-of-factly. “But how do you…?” “Do I have to remind you again? I’m a shifter! We’re both shifters!! We both have the same shit to deal with! Only difference is I’ve been a shifter longer, so I’ve already gone through this. Which is also how I know that you really wanna eat me right now and that instincts get worse at night.” Dream was about to argue until his stomach rumbled again, and Tommy looked down to his midsection then back to look him in the eye with an expression that Dream knew meant he wasn’t gonna convince Tommy of any lie. ‘He’s been through this, and I wasn’t there to help him. He went through this pain and I did nothing. I can help him now. Store him.’ “I..I don’t want to, I can’t…” “Bullshit. It’s clear as fuckin’ day you do so just do it.” Tommy’s voice was harsh until his next sentence. “Dream, you’re hurting yourself, why won’t you let me help you?” ‘He wants it. Store him. He wants me to, and I love him. Store him.’ “Because..because…” ‘Store him. Keep him safe. Keep him safe inside yourself. I can keep him safe inside me.’ Dream put his hands back over his face, partly because he didn’t want to look at Tommy at the moment, and partly because he kinda felt like he was gonna cry and Tommy didn’t need to see that. What was there to say? What could he possibly say to make any of this feel better? He felt like a monster. What kind of fucked up person would want to eat their family? Their brother? Their son? He knew he wanted to but he couldn’t rationalize that he did. He couldn’t accept it. So how in God’s name was he supposed to explain that to Tommy?

“…would it make you feel better to know that I ate someone too? That other shifters go through this?” Tommy asked. Dream just laughed wetly in response. “Sapnap told me. He explained all of this earlier. I don’t think your story could be as bad as his was, but you can still tell it.” “Oh, mine wasn’t bad at all, actually. Tubbo agreed to it.” “What the fuck is a Tubbo?” “Oh, you don’t know him? I’ll have to introduce you two later…” Tommy finished, seemingly unsure of what else to say. “Would…would it make you feel better to know..I’ve been…eaten before?” Dream dropped his hands slowly, tears visibly staining his cheeks, but that wasn’t his main concern at the moment. “Y..You have…?” “Yeah. Practically daily, if I’m being honest. That’s how I knew it was safe for me to eat people when this shit happened to me. Cause I’d been eaten before.” Dream just looked at him for a minute in shock. His son had been…eaten before. Without him knowing. That was…certainly something, wasn’t it? ‘He’s been getting eaten yet I won’t eat him. I’ve been trusting strangers to keep him safe. It should be my turn. It’s my turn. Store him.’ Dream sniffed and wiped one of his eyes as Tommy anxiously waited for a response. His hair was pulled back for once to reveal his pointed ears that Dream rarely got to see, since Tommy constantly kept them hidden to prove he was human, like Sapnap did. He didn’t like how downturned they were. Did Tommy think he was mad? Or was that just a reasonably private thing to expose? Oh, it was probably mostly the latter, wasn’t it?

Instead of giving a responsible or normal response, Dream decided now was the perfect time to ask a probably not very important question, partially to make Tommy feel less embarrassed and partially just cause he wanted to ask and knew there were probably very few other appropriate times to do so. “…It’s not Wilbur, is it..?” Tommy’s ears immediately perked back up as he looked at Dream with a mockingly offended face. “Fuck no!” He shouted, making an exaggerated gagging noise to prove a point, making Dream laugh. “I think I’d die of second hand smoke just by being in his mouth! Its fucking gross! Man’s doesn’t need to know how much technical cannibalism goes down at his store. No, its the tall fucker, you’ve met him, he’s got hetero..hetero…I don’t fucking remember.” Tommy finished and oh, Dream couldn’t just not take that bait, it’d be sinful. He barely kept himself from laughing as he asked “…you know a hetero?” “Oh FUCK OFF!! I meant the weird eye thing, we both know he’s gay as hell!” Tommy yelled back up, though he was also smiling, and Dream couldn’t help but laugh out loud, wheezing a bit as he tried to maintain his composure. But, he did notice his tears had dried up.

“You feeling better, big man?” Tommy asked, and Dream smiled a bit more and nodded. “Then do you think we can get on with this? I’m tired, I wanna place to sleep and you’re closest.” Dream looked back down, debating for a moment before setting his hands down beside Tommy, the smaller shifter immediately taking the chance to climb on.

Dream lifted him just below eye level, Tommy sitting down to get comfortable, seemingly understanding that there was still more Dream wanted to ask. But Dream couldn’t exactly say what. So, Tommy filled in. “You want to know what I enjoy about being stored?” He asked, and Dream in that moment found he liked the term ‘stored’ far more than he liked ‘eaten’ or ‘swallowed.’ He nodded. Tommy looked down and began to wring his hands as he spoke. “Well, it’s warm, for one. It’s, like, this all encompassing warmth, cause, y’know, people are warm. But its not overbearingly hot. It’s also dark, which is to be expected, no big surprise there. I do have partial night vision, though, fun fact, so I can still see a little bit. It’s also fairly quiet, save for the noises of organs. I can clearly hear breathing and a heartbeat from in there, and, I’m not gonna lie, and you’d better never bring this up again or so help me god I will clart you, but its…its relaxing. There’s a strong, steady, unceasing rhythm, and it’s calming, in a weird sort of way. I’m in there and every just…goes on around me, like I’m not even there. It’s this weird tranquil sort of peace.” Tommy looked up at Dream, who was just looking. Not with disgust, or confusion, or judgement in any sort, but like he was trying to understand more. Tommy appreciated that. So, he went on. “I’d say the best part is…and, again, the clart thing applies here, too, but…I don’t know, its just feels…nice. It feels nice in there.” He finally settled on, face starting to heat up from embarrassment.

Like hell was he could stop there, though, something was finally getting through to his dumbass of a guardian. This was for Dream (well, mostly Dream, but himself partially since some of his pack instincts were mad that Dream was refusing to take care of himself). “It’s like…spongy and squishy and…I’m not even sure how to describe it…its kinda smooth, but its flexible most of the time..whatever, it doesn’t matter. It’s just nice. It sometimes makes noise, not that I’ve ever minded. The noises make the walls vibrate weird, which is cool. It’s almost always, like…moving. Swaying, or something. It’s weird, cause I know that the room I’m in is alive and its…” Tommy looked back up at Dream, who was still looking back at him. He continued. “Well, lets just speak hypothetically here, it’d be…you. Fully, entirely surrounded by you. And…I don’t know about you, but…but that’s a nice thought to me. I’m safe, in there. Protected, fully unavailable to the outside world. Any move you make, I feel. Every breath, every heartbeat, I hear. Only you can hear me, and I can hear practically nothing but you. It’s…I don’t know, it’s something not many people get to do. Not that normal people want to, but, hey, maybe they would if they could, who knows. But, we can. And more so, I trust you enough to do this. I’m completely at your will in there. For that time, I’m entirely yours, but I know with my whole soul that you’d never take advantage of that. Because you love me as much as I love you. And believe me, I…I love you a lot, Dad.” He finished, never breaking eye contact. He could see tears start to well in Dreams eyes, even if his face remained mostly neutral. Then he smiled, shifting Tommy to one hand as he used the other to wipe his eyes. “…ok,” he finally spoke up softly, and Tommy’s ears perked up as he waited for what he hoped Dream was going to say. “What do I need to do.”

Tommy grinned ear to ear, his ears perked up fully now. “Practically nothing, just get me to your mouth and I’ll take it from there.” Dream took a moment to process it before breathing in and out slowly, and lifting Tommy to his lips, barely opening his mouth. If this were Ranboo, Tommy would probably yell at him for not helping enough. Hell, if this were Dream doing anything else, he’d yell at him. But, he knew that this was probably difficult and very, very uncomfortable for Dream, so he decided to not be rude for once. Instead, he just pushed down on Dream’s bottom teeth, which gave way with very little pressure, and climbed inside about half way.

Dream froze. Oh god his son was in his mouth, that was so weird, fuck, this felt- His own thoughts were cut off when his stomach cramped again, worse than before, worse than it had since he’d gotten back home, but not quite as bad as with Foolish. He sucked in air through teeth gritted lightly against Tommy’s midsection, vaguely even registering that he had partially closed his mouth, as his instincts rang louder than ever before. ‘This is right. This is right. Swallow him. Store him. Keep him safe.’ “Ok, big man,” Tommy called out, voice slightly muffled from behind his cheeks, and Dream feeling the weird sensation of vibration from his voice on his tongue and hard palate. “This is gonna sound weird but I’m too dry to get down your throat like this. Hurts like a bitch if I’m not damp enough, trust me. I need you to get me, like, covered in spit.” Dream made a vague noise of confusion in response, so Tommy clarified. “I’m asking you to lick me, bitch.” Dream took a few more deep breaths as he Tommy pulled himself in fully, though he had to curl himself up a bit to fit the whole way, and Dream began to move him around his mouth, slowly and carefully so he didn’t accidentally shove him against his teeth or do something that could hurt him. Tommy, for the most part was doing his best to keep still, thankfully. Dream was already feeling weird about having someone in there, he couldn’t imagine how much worse this would get if he was moving, too.

Eventually, Tommy’s taste started to register, too, and he was admittedly shocked at how good he tasted. It was just like how he smelled; strawberries, but slightly bitter and sour, which Dream now assumed was from the pain of his injury. He remembered Tommy saying he could tell Dream was in pain from his scent, but in the moment that hadn’t fully registered in his head. Huh. He’d have to ask Tommy what he smelled like later. Thankfully, though, he didn’t taste any peanut oil or other obvious signs of the injury, so Tommy must have re-wrapped it well. Still, though, something in him screamed to just drag him down already, to make his poor injured child feel better, but he wouldn’t without the green light from Tommy. After a few more moments, he felt more than heard Tommy laugh. “I must taste pretty damn good, you’re drooling again, it’s practically flooded in here.” Dream realized he was right, and that ok, maybe there was more spit than necessary, and maybe some of it was leaking out of his mouth a bit, but that was not one of his concerns at the moment. Dream responded by shoving at Tommy lightly, pressing him into his cheek, and he could feel Tommy lightly kick out at his cheek in response, and Dream was sure that it had made some sort of visible indent in the moment. “Ok, I’m ready. You can swallow. I’ll go down headfirst, that’s easier on you. And tilt your head back. I don’t think you’ve ever swallowed anything as big as me, so you’ll definitely want gravity on your side here. Also, put your hands on your throat, one right above your clavicle and one right under your chin.” Dream made another noise of confusion. “Just trust me, do it. And swallow when you’re ready, it’s boring in here and I wanna sleep.” Dream rolled his eyes, but tilted his head back as he felt Tommy situate himself correctly. He took a few more deep breaths in and out through his nose, and, finally, swallowed.

Dreams eyes widened and it took all of his willpower not to gag as he felt what he could only presume to be Tommy’s head enter his throat. He felt his neck bulge out underneath his hand as Tommy slipped down painfully slow, and his stomach gave another painful growl. It was a tight fit, to say the least, tight enough that he could feel Tommy’s chest rising and falling clear as day in his throat, a calm rhythm that directly contradicted the near hyperventilating he was doing. Tommy’s head was almost at his other hand by the time his feet even entered the throat, and at this point Dream was almost glad he had been drooling earlier, since just swallowing over and over seemed to get him down faster, and the spit was helping. He felt the first of Tommy drop below his collarbones into his chest, and made the horrible discovery that he couldn’t breathe. He frantically swallowed him down even faster, just trying to get him out of the way as soon as possible, and he soon felt the rest of him slip into his chest as well. The second Tommy was away from his windpipe he was gasping for air, clutching at his chest where he could feel the uncomfortable weight that was Tommy moving slowly deeper into him. He placed a hand on his stomach, bracing himself for whatever it would feel like when Tommy did manage to end up there, and trailed his other finger down slowly to give himself a rough idea of where Tommy was, not that he couldn’t feel him, but the visual tracking helped a bit.Dream braced himself when his two hands met, the one tracking Tommy just above his stomach, and he tensed as he felt Tommy slip into the chamber, his stomach actually distending a bit to fit him and growing under Dream’s palm.

And all at once, he felt miraculously better.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he certainly didn’t think it would be this instantaneous. But his instincts were no longer screaming at him, instead filing him with a bone-deep relief that this was finally right, and this was where Tommy was meant to be. His stomach stopped hurting, the cramps gone now that the feeling of emptiness was replaced with heavy, living weight in the form of his son, whose natural body heat seeped into the walls around him, warming Dream from the inside. It reminded him of eating soup, except the soup was solid and alive and he could feel it’s heartbeat if he was still enough, and Tommy would never get cold. It felt…good. He hated to say it, and he’d think about the implications of it later, but it actually felt really good. He felt Tommy move from within him and, oh fuck, that was a weird feeling, but not an entirely unpleasant one. He still couldn’t help that his breath hitched and he tensed in surprise, effectively squishing Tommy between his stomach walls, which made his stomach make a whole new round of weird noises, but he felt and heard Tommy laugh it off.

“So,” Tommy said, the smug tone clear even through the walls of flesh and muscle surrounding him, “was it really that bad?” “The swallowing was, yes.” Dream replied, shuddering at the idea that he’d have to do that backwards to get Tommy out. “Yeah, sorry, big man, kinda forgot to mention that you wouldn’t be able to breathe for a while while doing that.” “Oh yeah, cause that’s not something I needed to know at all.” He responded sarcastically, finally letting his stomach muscles loosen around Tommy as he began to relax. “The rest of it…ok, you win, it wasn’t that bad.” He relented, hearing Tommy start to celebrate in him. “I told you, I told you!! Now you’re as weird as I am bitch! Get used to this, I want cuddles more often now.” He huffed, clearly proud of himself. Dream scoffed fondly, placing a hand over the slightly moving bump on his belly. “Of course, how could I deny you cuddles, that would just be evil of me, wouldn’t it.” “Yeah it fuckin’ would.” Tommy agreed, laughing lightly.

Dream began to relax further, trying to fall asleep, hand still over where he felt his son, but found that it wasn’t just Tommy moving around slightly. It was his entire stomach. He placed both hands over it and felt clear as day that it was contracting and moving without him telling it to, the gurgling less loud, but more constant than it had been. Tommy, however, didn’t seem to mind, just content to be moved wherever the muscles around him pushed him. “…Tommy? Is everything alright in there?” He asked nervously. “I’m fine.” Tommy responsed almost immediately, picking up on his guardian’s distressed tone. “Everything’s perfectly fine, your body just isn’t used to having things that aren’t food in your stomach, so it’s doing what it would be doing to help food digest faster.” “Oh my god, are y-“ “I’ll be fine, this happens every time, relax. Everything will chill out once your gut realizes I’m staying right where I’m at.”

Dream sighed in relief, as weird as that all sounded, at least Tommy was ok. He was safe, where no one but Dream could get him. And god, did that feel good. He had known Tommy before the…incident, back when the kid was just his little cousin and not his son. Before what probably unlocked his shifter traits had happened. It had taken a long while for Dream to see that sunny, optimistic little boy he’d come to love again after that. It had taken years for Tommy to open up again, even if he he wasn’t as open, and probably never would be again. That didn’t matter. He loved him anyway. Dream loved Tommy, he loved him so, so fucking much. He’d told Tommy he’d always be there for him when he adopted him, that he’d keep him safe, and he intended to keep that promise for as long as he was still breathing.

“Goodnight Tommy.” Dream said softly, laying back down and gently rubbing his stomach, which only resulted in more gurgling sounds. What Dream wasn’t expecting was the feeling of tiny hands against his stomach, rubbing along the inside of his stomach, massaging in places he never would have thought would feel good. Yet, here he was. He flopped backwards the rest of the way, hearing Tommy squeak in surprise as they both started to laugh. “I love you, sunshine.” Normally, Tommy hated when Dream pulled out that old nickname, but he didn’t seem to mind it tonight. “I love you , too, Dad.”

Bonus (as if this wasn’t long enough jfc)

Dream had somehow gotten to work late. Foolish had practically shaken him awake like a half hour before they both needed to be there, and they probably would have made it in the building on time if Dream hadn’t spent the entire car ride apologizing for letting Foolish fall five feet off a ladder the day before and get minimally concussed and bruised, with Foolish constantly interjecting that it was his own fault for his shitty balance, and it quickly turned into a lighthearted argument. Dream didn’t mark it up on either of their records, he thought arguing about the ladder incident was a good enough reason to be late. After all, he was the boss, what was he gonna do, fire himself? Foolish asked him if he wanted to grab a snack from the break room for breakfast, since they had forgotten to eat in their rush out the door. Dream went with him, but ended up declining.

“How come?” Foolish asked, mouthful of a granola bar. “Did you eat yet today?” “Nah, just not hungry, I don’t know why.” “Huh. Did you eat a big dinner?” “Uhhh…” Actually, Dream couldn’t recall eating at all the day before, and possibly even the day before that, but he didn’t exactly need to share that. “…I don’t think so, but I can’t quite remember.” “Odd.” Foolish said, turning to throw away the wrapper to his granola bar as Dream subtly lifted his shirt to see that he at least definitely at least looked full, way more full than normal. But how could he not remember eating that mu- “Oh, by the way,” Foolish said, turning his attention back to Dream. “Did you see Tommy this morning?” Dream’s eyes widened. Ooooohhhh right. Shit. Yeah, that would be why he wasn’t hungry. “Uh, he, uh…he..he’s at a friends place. Yeah, left last night to head to a sleepover. Hence why you didn’t see him this morning. He wasn’t there. He was at the sleepover. At someone else’s house that wasn’t ours.” Dream realized he should have stopped talking a while before that point, but he wasn’t exactly the best liar. He smiled genuinely as best he could, but the odd look on Foolish’s face showed that he was probably more likely grimacing. “…ok then. I’m gonna go check…something. Join me when you stop being weird.” He clapped Dream on the shoulder as he walked past him and out of the break room.

Dream waited a couple seconds after the door shut before he ran to lock it and immediately fell back onto the beanbag chair they kept in there, surprisingly not waking up Tommy, who he could now register was actually fucking snoring still. Seriously, how did he forget he was in there? “Well, it seems my help is no longer needed.” Dream heard a familiar voice come from above him, looking up to see Sapnap sitting at a vent near the ceiling, legs and tail dangling off the edge. “How could you tell?” Dream sighed. “Besides the world’s most conspicuous coverup story? I watched the cams from yesterday, you were definitely worse than I thought. I figured you’d have snapped and eaten someone by morning. Just surprised it wasn’t Foolish.” “I’ll have you know that I did not snap, I- wait how were you watching the cams??” “There are vents in there too, y’know.” Sapnap shrugged. “Karl, Q, and I watched them when we’re bored. It’s like our own personal bad reality sitcom.” “Ok, I’m gonna ignore that you just said that.” Dream mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at Sapnap. “My son helped me out.” “Oh right! I forgot he was a shifter.” “Yeah, I did to, and I also forgot he was in here, I guess, so now he’s stuck here until I have time to get him out.” “Good luck with that, having time to get him out and knowing how to are two very different things.” Sapnap said, standing back up. “Wait, Sap, what does that mean?” But the shifter just laughed as he waved and walked off. “See you when my shift starts!”

“…Great.” Dream said, barely audibly. He just sat rubbing circles into his stomach before he felt something stir and released the pressure. He heard Tommy yawn and felt his hands press against his stomach as he stretched his arms, making almost imperceptible indents in the skin around him. Dream decided that whatever he felt when seeing that could be pushed back and dealt with later. “Good morning sleepyhead.” Dream cooed as Tommy mumbled something incoherent, probably cursing. “…what time is it?” He eventually asked, sleep still clinging to his tone. “A little before 8, so I’m already at work.” “Let me guess, you forgot I was in here so you went to work and you’re just now realizing that you don’t know how to spit me out?” “What? No!……yes.” Tommy sighed obnoxiously loud as he readjusted himself. “Y’know I should’ve expected that. I’m too much like you sometimes, your dumbass-ery rubs off on me.” “…context?” “This is exactly what I did when I stored someone for the first time.” He responded shamefully, making Dream wheeze. “Oh, I wouldn’t be laughing to hard yet, big man, I have a secret weapon you don’t know about.” “Oh yeah, pipsqueak? What’s that?” He heard Tommy laugh quietly to himself as he moved to a part of the stomach he hadn’t been in yet, and gently stroked a higher area. Dream froze, taking in the sensation again. “So what do you think that’ll-“ He cut himself off as something started to feel off in his throat. He pressed his hands to his neck as the sensation grew, and became strangely audible. He heard Tommy laugh louder as a horrified look grew on his face. “What’s wrong, Dream?” Tommy laughed. “Didn’t you know you could purr?” Dream just stood frozen for a second. “…What the ACTUAL FUCK-“

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 | 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧

author's note: sorry i just cannot stop writing headcanons! it's my favorite thing to write. i really hope everyone enjoys these, they include things from these two works of mine as well :) -shea

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

very much the involved boyfriend

once you guys finally start dating, he just immediately wants you guys to merge lives and share friends, even though that’s not a simple process

but it’s really because he cares about you so deeply he doesn’t want there to be a part of his life that you’re just not involved in

therefore; very involved

you guys manage your schedules together and plan out dinners and dates in advance

he mostly really likes having something to look forward too, like time with you

the kind of boyfriend that remembers little stuff you say here and there

like if you mention your mom’s birthday is coming up, he’ll ask later what you’re getting her and suggest some ideas. probably would send your mom flowers too to earn brownie points

or if you have a stressful week with exams and papers, he’ll stop by randomly with coffee and a snack and a hug

i honestly don’t see jean as the kind of boyfriend to start/carry on a fight, because he would hate knowing that you two are upset with each other. so i think any fights would be resolved pretty quickly

if one did happen to go over night or last a few days, he would definitely apologize first and bring you flowers, even if you were the one who started it

honestly though, with a guy like jean, what is there to fight about

overall, just a super caring boyfriend that makes the little stuff the memorable stuff

𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐭

the! best! boyfriend! ever!

i see armin as the ideal caring boyfriend

he just really likes to have someone to take care of, and he is also really touched that someone trusts him enough to ensure their heart to him

so he takes every measure to make sure he’s being the best partner he can be

a lot of emotional sharing, and i feel like would happen pretty early on as well

only because he is so trustworthy and you know you can tell him everything on your mind, even stuff that you maybe haven’t told anyone else

this just makes your relationship progress even further. you two are the couple that has been dating for a month but knows they are going to be together for a long time

speaking of, you are the mom and the dad of the friend group, which is so adorable but calls for a lot of teasing from your friends

but armin knows he’s going to marry you one day, so he just laughs when eren cracks another joke about it

𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧

i’ll be real, this relationship is definitely not the easiest

reiner definitely loves you, don’t get me wrong, but a big part of him probably thinks he doesn’t deserve someone like you to care about him

which isn’t easy in a relationship because i feel like he would try and distance himself from getting too attached in the beginning

maybe he just thinks you’re going to see through him and realize you don’t want this anymore (which is not true at all, but just his intrusive thoughts)

i think you would try to reassure him about your feelings and how much you want this relationship, but then he feels like you shouldn’t have to reassure him, and that you shouldn’t be in the kind of relationship where you have to reassure the person. basically he thinks you deserve someone better, and you know that there is no one better for you

eventually i think this reaches a breaking point. through a lot of angst and honesty and tears, you two finally work it out

i think after clearing things up, things take a huge turn for the better

he definitely learns that there’s nothing wrong with being a relationship where you have to take care of each other, and he’s definitely thankful that you continued to stand by him

so sorry about this angst, but on the bright side, this man would be such a devoted boyfriend

his friends definitely make fun of him for looking at you like you hung the stars and moon in the sky

i also think all this angst would lead to you two being really open and vulnerable with each other, which is really important to him

also definitely a mama’s boy and can’t wait to introduce you to her

just like armin, he knows you’re gonna be his wife someday

𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

even though i think it would take eren a long time to settle down and commit to a healthy, long-term relationship, once he does, he would be a great boyfriend

he is a really caring guy, and i feel like part of his hesitance is about opening up to someone if they’re just gonna leave

but i think he can tell early on that this would be different

i have a feeling his love language is quality time, and so you two are always planning little things together

he especially loves last-minute, impromptu dates that arise from a random thought

like he’ll grab two sandwiches and take you to the beach at sunset, even if you just got home or had something to get done

or knock on your door at midnight and take you to the nearest roof to stargaze together

i feel like eren is the boyfriend who becomes your closest friend over time

you guys go to each other first when you need to rant or talk or babble endlessly

it’s an interesting dynamic but it works well for you guys

the kind of bf that people assume he’s a single bachelor and will stay that way forever, or people don’t believe that he’s settled down, and then when they see you two together they’re shocked

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭

you and marco have the most wholesome relationship

if i had to picture anyone whose relationship feels like the honeymoon phase even after a whole year, it is marco

he has a habit of making every small date, every meeting or interaction just feel so special, like every day is a special occasion

the kind of boyfriend who gets you a promise ring early on with every intention of replacing it with an engagement ring and wedding band one day

a big moment for him is introducing you to his friends! he knows they’ll love you, and he just wants you to meet the other most important people in his life

especially you and jean, this boy would be on cloud nine seeing you two get along so well. makes him super happy and teary-eyed

the responsible bf who takes care of everything for you, even little, everyday things so you don’t have to worry about it

like making sure there’s a cup of water on the nightstand when you go to bed, or setting an extra alarm to make sure you don’t oversleep, or reminding you about a deadline

overall just <3 boyfriend marco

𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

the nonchalant, cool boyfriend who has to hide how sappy he actually is

pretends like he’s not nervous as all hell on your first date. acts like you leaning into him on the walk back home, or kissing his cheek at your doorstep before you say good night isn’t giving him heart palpitations.

also majorly touch-starved. after you two really open up to each other, which happens way sooner than he expected, it’s hard for him to keep his hands away from you.

he’s reserved in public, a simple arm around you waist or hands interlaced while you guys are out

but when you’re in the privacy of your home, it’s almost instinctual for him to pull you close

he loves when you lay your head on his chest, but nothing compares to when you let him lay his head on yours.

you stroke his hair and sit in silence, appreciating the quiet mumble of the television and the sound of each other breathing

always falls asleep like this, and he’s never been much of a nap guy, but ever since he met you, he’s reformed

not to mention your skin is always so warm and soft, and his is always on the colder side, so he’s just drawn to you

also i see him as the kind of guy who proposes out of nowhere, like you aren’t expecting it at all after a quiet dinner together at home, you’re getting up to grab dessert and he pulls out a ring

“how about dessert and naps for as long as we both shall live?”

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

once again, pock tries to put on a tough facade but we all know he’s just a softie on the inside

in fact, it’s a little while into your relationship that you notice him softening up with you, trying less hard to seem like someone else and getting more comfortable around you

you definitely don’t mention it, because you don’t want him to realize how you’ve been noticing it lately, but it definitely makes your chest feel warm and fuzzy at the thought of him being more himself

it’s not long at all before you can’t even see any semblance of that tough guy you met for the first time

the kind of whipped boyfriend that carries your bags when you go shopping, grabs your coffee order on the way to visit you, and likes to have quiet nights in more than going out

your favorite memories with him include watching rom-coms and munching on popcorn in his apartment, everyone else out and about on a saturday night

the leftover pizza is sitting on the counter, and you turn to go put it away when you notice pock teary-eyed at the movie!

yes, this boy cries at sappy romantic movies and you regret ever putting on the notebook that one night because you wanted to get laid after and that just did not happen because he was crying too much

but also just treats you so right and has every intention of being the best boyfriend he can, doesn’t ever want to do anything to hurt you and is highkey very glad he met you and has someone to be so open and comfortable with!

𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

can you spell boyfriend material.

the most comforting, wholesome boyfriend in the world. you actually can’t believe he’s single when you guys meet for the first time, because there’s just no way.

this is the take him home to meet your parents guy, introduce him to your friends right away guy because you know it’s serious

i talked about how bertholdt is the bf who just listens to your talks and rambles for as long as you need to, and always offers advice and sweet words, but he really does take it to the next level

lets you cry it out when you need to, rubbing your back and hair softly and not minding when his shirt is covered in tears

or alternatively lets you rant about your annoying professor or a terribly rude stranger or whatever else is plaguing your mind today

texts you every day asking how you’re doing, always calls you before bed if you guys aren’t together

he just has the ability to make you feel so heard and seen

and of course you never forget to take care of him, as well. it makes for a really comfortable dynamic.

very easy to imagine spending the rest of your life with him despite the fact that he has kicked you off the bed multiple times in his sleep

𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡

alternatively, husband material

takes all of five minutes into having a conversation with him to realize this is a responsible, mature guy

which are usually far and few between

i’d like to think he’s similar to marco in the way that he likes to make sure things are taken care for you, he likes to get things off of your shoulders even though you feel like you should be doing it for him instead

this translates to a lot of checking in phone calls, making sure you’ve eaten dinner and haven’t skipped meals because of your busy schedule

always makes time for you and especially loves having date nights every saturday, it’s wonderful when you haven’t been able to see him all week

anyways, you get engaged and married so fast bc you just had to snatch him up

[iwannawritelots]

£uc!f€r

Originally written April 2022

Masterlist

Ship(s): Lucifer X MC

(genderless MC)

Trigger/content warnings: trauma depictions, guilt

Headcanons/notes from the author: I think I intended on continuing this…? Didn’t happen. Might rewrite or something though. SEASON 2 (PAST LESSON 38) SPOILERS; written under the assumption that Lucifer didn’t get his memories back.

Brief Blurb: (Spoilers) Lucifer cannot recall what caused his nightmares.

A dark, bare room, cold and uninviting, which Lucifer sat in the middle of. The candles gave little light, and he could barely see his own hands when he held them up to his face. A price he was willing to pay… for whatever it was. He couldn’t name it, despite it being on the tip of his tongue. A guilt that drenched his very being as he curled into himself with every panicked breath.

Why was he so… unsettled? Surely he had a reason… he was Lucifer, after all. The morning star, the one humans believed ruled over demons.

Then he heard it, the screams he once heard in not fearful context. He was used to the screaming and shrieking; from day one, they were of a joyful tone… an indicator of fun, child’s play. This was the new norm. Agony coated, shrill screaming and sobbing; no matter how much he tried, all he could do was make it worse. When did he try to make it better? His head felt fuzzy…

Lucifer gasped and clawed at his sheets as he woke. Tears were already sliding down his face as he coughed and choked on his saliva. His body hurt, and his head spun so violently he felt like vomiting. Another dream that he couldn’t understand had brought him to consciousness. “Lucifer?” He startled, whipping his head around to find the source of your voice. “Lucifer, it’s alright. Just listen to my voice,” you cooed, sitting up on your side of the bed. “Was it another nightmare, love?”

The avatar of pride didn’t respond, opting instead to hide in your chest and cover his ears. The screaming had followed him into reality, which often happened, much to his dismay. You very carefully adjusted his body to be in a more comfortable position before placing your hands over his own, hoping it was helping ground him. He soon began to sob, whimpering apologies that you couldn’t comprehend.

Ever since Simeon had placed the ring of light on your finger, Lucifer’s amnesia seemed to worsen. He often forgot more than he initially had, but at the same time he still felt comfort being around you. It didn’t take very long for his insomnia to become apparent. You insisted that you accompany him at night, after Mammon pointed out that Lucifer allowed himself to nap on the couch with you around.

Despite your presence, the nightmares did not cease. Lucifer couldn’t remember many things, but his brain still tortured him as he slept. He had become more like his old self, being gentle with his brothers, letting himself ramble, openly expressing his feelings… but at a price. He could never have a peaceful slumber.

Lucifer had cried for a long while before he finally fell back asleep. You held him still, petting his hair and humming a human world lullaby. If it weren’t for you, he probably would never sleep again. The thought made your stomach twist, wondering what would have happened if you weren’t in a relationship with him. Who else would he have found comfort in?

After a while, he began panicking in his sleep again, and you gently blew on his face until he awoke once more. “Lucifer, maybe we should go do something for a little bit.”

“I’m keeping you up… I’m sorry…” he muttered, red with humiliation. “I’m an awful partner.” You hushed him and brushed his hair out of his face. “_____… I’ve caused you so many problems…”

Sighing, you shook your head and kissed his temple. “That’s not the case. Just relax for me, darling.” You ran your fingers through his hair, using your other hand to hold one of his. “Was it like the one last night?”

He exhaled long and sniffled, then buried his face into your shoulder. “Yes, it was.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe we can talk to someone about making it stop.”

“No… I probably deserve it.” Lucifer wrapped your hand in both of his. “I’m without memory of whatever I did to deserve it, but I’m sure I do.”

“Lucifer—” You cut yourself off when you realized he was crying again. “Lucifer, you can’t keep this up.”

A long pause stretched between the both of you. “I know…”

[startanewdream]

Tipsy

Summary: Lily and James find themselves in need of a more private location — and there's nothing like having a whole place for them...

For the Anon who asked exactly for this.

Rated M, so mostly below the cut!

_______________

James’ mouth is hot over hers, demanding with a urgency that Lily hasn’t felt in a while. She can’t fault him; amidst all their worries — war, prophecies, fighting to survive — they haven’t had time to rest for a while. This is their first time out in months.

Maybe he longed for a moment of tranquillity too; maybe it’s all the alcohol they’ve consumed so far, in a silly attempt to play drinking games with Sirius — last seen over the dance floor, so attached to a blond that it felt nearly explicit, though Lily won’t fault Sirius this time. James had interpreted Sirius’ dance just as another drinking game and had decided to snog Lily in the middle of that nightclub as if his life depended on it.

Well, not exactly in the middle of the club. But he had taken her to the darkened halls leading to the bathrooms and ignoring the bored look of the security guards and the amusing looks of anyone who passed behind them, he had proceeded to pin her against the wall and snog her senseless.

Later, Lily will blame the alcohol for that very public display of affection, but for the moment she can’t really thinking in anything else than the way James’ tongue is dancing with hers, his hand everywhere — at one point holding her neck, burying themselves in her hair as if he wants to pull her even closer; then moving over the front of her dress almost distractedly, hand casually sliding over the swell of her breast as if he didn’t even notice what he was doing; or tugging at the edge of her dress, climbing over her thigh —

There is a cough, and they break away as little as they need, breathing hard, equally guilty and wanting looks on their faces.

‘So, you come here often?’ he asks, lips curved into that lopsided grin she loves so much.

‘Pick-up lines at this point, Potter?’ she asks in answer, watching his lips swollen, glasses crooked, all signs that his pick-up lines were not needed at all.

‘Back to using surnames now, are we, Evans?’

Lily giggles. Yes, she is more than a little tipsy.

And yet this supposed innocent sound makes his eyes flash darkly and she knows the look on his face — Lily is rather familiar with the expressions on James’ face before he moves to kiss her.

‘Hey,’ she stops him, putting her hand over his lips. It’s really hard to keep a chain of thoughts while he kisses her fingers, so obscene, but she must try. ‘Maybe we can take this somewhere else?’

‘Ohhh,’ that picks up his interest, eyes glistening with desire. He approaches her to speak at the base of her ear. ‘Back-alley?’

It’s also hard to think with the shivers his voice sends down her body.

‘I was thinking somewhere more private. I don’t want to be interrupted.’

‘Ohhh.’ He takes his time, breathing slowly, and Lily knows the prat is just enjoying the reactions he is causing over her skin. ‘My place is empty tonight.’

‘Your place?’ she repeats, amused.

‘I share with others sometimes,’ he answers without losing a beat. She laughs. ‘What do you say?’

‘Only if we can share dessert over the kitchen table,’ Lily replies boldly, and this makes him break apart to stare at her.

‘Merlin, I love you.’

‘Now, now, James,’ she places a chaste kiss over his lips, lingering long enough to make him crave for more. ‘That’s what you’ll say after.’

_______

They shouldn’t have apparated home, because drink and apparating don’t mix, that’s what James said more than once, stern...

But he can’t think right now, vodka and Lily twirling his brain into blissful oblivion as they land inside the house, all parts intact, thanks Merlin. He’ll deal with the consequences of all the vodka tomorrow morning, because for now all his concentration is focused on Lily, on the way her hands scratch his scalp and her legs wrap around his hips as he raises her, putting her carefully on the table of the kitchen, pushing the tablecloth away.

A glass falls to the ground — ops, maybe he thought he was being careful —, not breaking but making enough sound to echo in the darkened kitchen, but James can’t bother with it now. His hands are busy finding the zipper in the back of her dress, face buried in the cleavage of her dress, desperate for the moment he will finally kiss her breasts as he wanted ever since she first showed up in that dress, way too short and way too tight than he had seen her wear in a while.

She doesn’t help him with her dress, instead fighting a battle of her own with his shirt, opening the buttons there with easy expertise before moving to open his belt. Her hand slide down the zipper of his trousers just as he does the same if her dress, his hand brushing her skin and making goosebumps arise in the trail — though he knows she can’t be enjoying this as much as him, not with the way her warm fingers are enclosed over him, making him whimper — that’s okay, he tells himself, he will make her feel good too —

The lights turn on.

And for the first time in his life, James actually appreciates fighting two wars, because his reactions are very good. He jumps back, hands closing his trousers, just as Lily jumps from the table, her face impossibly red while she tries to close as much as she can of the zipper of her dress.

To their luck — or not, considering how occupied they were — Harry enters the kitchen rubbing his eyes, without his glasses, which gives them even more time to fix themselves — as long as their son doesn’t notice James’ shirt is buttoned all wrong…

‘Mum? Dad?’ he asks sleepily. ‘I thought you wouldn’t be back until dawn.’

‘I thought you wouldn’t be home, Harry,’ James answers, exchanging a look with Lily. It’s the week before Christmas and with Ginny and Hermione back for the holidays, Harry should be there spending time with his girlfriend and friends.

‘I was going to stay at the Burrow, but — Mrs Weasley places the weird charms —’ he blinks, seeming to realize he is oversharing, and he flushes, suddenly interested in looking at the ground. ‘Sorry, I just heard a noise here, I’ll be back to bed.’

‘Yeah, you do that.’

‘Night.’

‘Night…’

Five more seconds and they will be safe… Then Harry’s eyes find the glass on the floor and his gaze follows a path to the table, all messy, and then back to the ground, where there is a belt laying.

Harry’s eyes widen, and James feels suddenly old when he realizes his 17-year-old son understands what this means. Merlin, they grow up so fast…

‘COME ON!,’ Harry cries, pulling James away from his reverie. ‘Really? We eat at this table! Why?’

‘We are drunk,’ James says, and while this seemed like a good reason before, a part of him wonders if he should have admitted this to Harry.

His nostrils flare. James wonders if Harry knows he uses the same anger expressions as Lily.

‘Drunk? And you apparated home? Merlin, you KNOW you cannot do this! What if you had splinched yourselves?’

‘We are fine, Harry,’ Lily points out, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. ‘We just got caught.’

‘Yeah, by our son,’ James agrees under his breath, though everyone seems to hear it. Neither seems to find this amusing, though. ‘It’s not like he has never interrupted before.’

‘What?’

‘Harry, Harry,’ James grins. ‘Remember that time you caught us in your mum’s office and I told you I was just helping her take the potion out of her blouse?’

‘James —’

‘DAD!’ Harry backs away, looking properly shocked, his hand twitching in the direction of his wand as if he just wants to obliviate himself. ‘That’s it, I’m out. Locked in my room forever.’

‘We’ll place Silencing Charms next time,’ James promises, and this doesn’t seem to comfort Harry much.

He is still shaking his head as he vanishes in the stairs; James looks at Lily. There is a beat — then they break into a fit of laughter.

Yep, mostly tipsy yet.

_______

The next morning Harry makes sure to set the breakfast in the dinner table they never use, handling them a Hangover Potion without meeting their eyes. Lily notices he didn’t put the mint leaves to ease the flavour.

Well, they deserve it.

Notes: (Part of my Eyes Glistening - Jily Lives AU, which I didn't mention before to keep the twist a little! Anon asked for Harry to interrupt James and Lily, since Lily already interrupted Harry once - The Talk 2.0 | The other talk)

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Unintended Target

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers x Reader

Request: Hellus can I have a Bucky Barnes angst where you're dating and like you get hurt really bad on a mission because you tried protecting him and he just cannot stop crying while you're being treated. Steve like literally has to hold him through it. Ending in fluff. Sorry for so many details ahahaha! -Anon

Word Count:

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mentions of blood, a bit of angst

Author’s Note: We've reached the ending of the first week of May Madness! And welcome to my first one shot for the MCU! But you know me. I do hope you guys enjoy

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Y/N never believed that she’d ever be able to run as fast as she had. Her heart pounded in her chest as she raced against time to get across the property in time. The sound of her boots hitting the ground had been lost to the sounds of gunfire that surrounded her.

She and the rest of the Avengers were dealing with the remnants of a hydra base. What was supposed to be a quick in and out mission seemed to take a turn. There was more manpower than they expected and it was taking longer just to clear the property.

At some point during the fight, she’d lost her earpiece making it difficult to keep in contact with the others. The others knew she could handle herself, even though they were currently trying to find her among the mess that was being created. She had been expecting to meet at the rendezvous spot with a smirk on her face with all the files she needed in her hand.

At least that had been the plan. But after her eyes had scanned one of the files, she dropped the file and began running out of the building. Hydra had a new plan alright. And it was that plan alone that had caused fear to course through her, wanting-more like needing-to be on the opposite side of the property.

“Anyone have eyes on Y/N yet?” Bucky called out as he took down another member of Hydra.

Bucky hated that Y/N currently couldn’t be reached. While he had trained with her plenty of times and knew that she was able to take care of herself, he didn’t know where she was at. He didn’t know if she was injured or having any issues. His girlfriend could easily wipe the floor with him, but as close as they were, he was worried.

She’s not in the west wing anymore. Bucky heard Natasha’s voice over the comms. She left a nice trail in the process for us though.

Natasha was trying to make light of the situation. If she could get Bucky to bring down his worry in the slightest, she was going to attempt it. Together the two were practically unstoppable, separate them and make it so they can’t speak to each other and they’ve got an anxious super-soldier.

I’ve got eyes on her. Clint’s voice came over next. And unless there’s something I’m missing, Y/N is either running from something invisible or she’s trying to get somewhere.

Anything from the west wing she could have seen? Tony’s voice filled their ears.

Still looking. Nat responded.

“Where is she headed?” Bucky asked a moment later, the swift movement of his knife piercing the body of another person advancing on him. With him down, Bucky had cleared his section. His concern now focused on why Y/N had been running away or towards something.

I’ve lost sight of her. She was headed towards the east. More than likely heading your way.

The plans had been replaying in Y/N’s head from the moment she read them in the west wing. The words on the pages she had found made her heart race in a way that all the training she had been through never made it race. The fear had threatened to bring tears to her eyes. All she knew was that she had to get to Bucky.

She hadn’t stopped for a moment since she had begun running. Even when she was faced with those that tried to stop her, she simply pulled out her dagger, allowing it to make contact for a brief moment before she continued. The bodies she left behind weren’t on her mind for more than a second.

As she made it towards the end of the property, her eyes landed on Bucky. From the looks of things, he had finished clearing things out and was beginning to look for her. She knew he had to be seeing as she no longer had her earpiece. It was something he’d always do no matter what the mission was that they were on.

Y/N believed she had made it there on time. That if he was alone he’d be okay. If there were no signs of Hydra, Bucky would be safe. That getting him out of the area would ensure his safety. It was as she began slowing down did Bucky notice her.

He took off on a light jog to meet her halfway from that point. “What happened?” He asked, seeing the look on her face.

“We need to get out of here, now.” she said in between the breaths of air she was trying to get.

You should listen to her. Nat’s voice picked up in Bucky’s ear. This whole thing was a damn setup.

The moment the words registered in his ear, they both noticed the way a red dot appeared on Bucky’s chest. His first instinct would have been to grab the both of them and find cover. Before he could do anything, Y/N’s instinct kicked in and she pushed Bucky out of the way, just as the shot had been fired.

Both of them had fallen onto the ground but it was Y/N that cried out in pain. Her hands automatically tried to grab at her back to take in the injury she had gotten. To apply some kind of pressure to it or at the very least to see where it was.

Just as Bucky moved to look her over a jolt of electricity shot through her body. One that caused a loud piercing scream to pass her lips before she went silent. Bucky could only watch as her body convulsed from the electrical charge running through her body. The last thing Y/N heard and saw was Bucky reaching for her the moment the shocking stopped his voice calling out to her before she passed out.

The minutes after had gone in a blur to Bucky. The others all speaking at once trying to figure out their location. They all had heard her screams. May it have been through the comms or even the fact that they were close by and could hear it. The words mixed in with the emotions that were currently playing through him.

From the moment she passed out, Bucky had her in his arms. He hardly even remembered yelling at the others to shut up and just get to them. They needed to leave before Y/N bled out or even died there in his arms. He didn’t even want to begin to think about her dying there. Not when that shot wasn’t even meant for her.

He could barely remember how long it had taken him to get to the quinjet, let alone the ride back to the compound. The whole ride back, he never left her side. Even when Bruce helped to stop the bleeding for the trip back, he never once took his eyes off of her. Even after getting her to the Med Bay, he fought to be with her. But he couldn’t be.

There was a storm of emotions brewing within him as he watched from behind a glass window as the team Stark hired had begun working on pulling the bullet out of Y/N’s back. The wound was simple, but because of the electric charge that came from it, her skin looked fried around the wound.

Y/N wasn’t even supposed to be in there. She wasn’t supposed to be wounded and it was because of who he was made to be. That the very organization that he had once freed himself from was desperately trying to get him back. And in the process, the woman he loved was injured.

“She’ll get through this.” Steve said as he came to stand beside Bucky. Steve knew that Y/N had been shot at, broken, and bloodied with several of the missions that she had been through. The woman always seemed to pull through.

“That charge that went through her body, was meant for me.” Bucky said never taking his eyes off of Y/N. “My body would have taken that charge and it would have caused little damage. She’s not like us.”

“She may not be like us, but I’ve seen her take on world threats and she’s come out of them right by your side.” Steve needed Bucky to have some kind of hope.

Bucky’s forehead placed against the glass as he shook his head. “I can’t lose her Steve.”

Steve watched as tears slowly formed in Bucky’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or anger that had caused the tears. He brought his hand up and placed it on Bucky’s shoulder. It seemed that the simple action had caused Bucky to let the storm inside of him be released.

He placed his arm around Bucky, allowing his friend to lean on him while he broke down. Steve listened as Bucky mentioned time and time again about it should have been him. That he should have been the one on the table. But if it hadn’t been for Y/N, Bucky would have been taken away.

Steve stayed with Bucky for the time it took to get Y/N closed up and have tests done to make sure the surge of power that went through her hadn’t damaged any of her organs. The testing is what took the longest. The needing to ensure that Y/N would wake up was something that held the heaviest weight.

Y/N’s eyes slowly opened and she found herself in a bed in the Med Bay. A confused look played on her face for a moment before her brain registered the pain her body felt in that moment. She winced as she began to look around before a small smile pulled at her lips.

Bucky had been by her side, his head resting on the space beside her. She could tell he had been sleeping. She could see it in the steady rise and fall of his shoulders as she watched him. Bringing a shaky hand up, she ran it through his hair. The action itself was comforting to herself and if she was being honest, she was sure that it would bring some comfort to him as well.

Her touch had caused Bucky to lift his head quickly. “You’re awake.”

The slight nod of her head had caused her to wince. “How long was I out?” Her voice was rough as she spoke.

“Almost a week.” She could hear the relief in his voice at seeing her awake. He sat up and moved his chair closer before he reached for her hand. “Have I ever mentioned how crazy you are?”

That caused a slight smile to grow on her face, her fingers tightening around his own. “We both know I’m crazy enough to take bullets for the people I love.”

“Doesn’t mean you should.” He said with a slight nod of his head.

“I couldn’t let them take you. Not after everything we’ve done to make sure you got better.” She wasn’t going to let him ‘win’ this argument. “The moment I saw their plans, I didn’t care about anything else. I just knew I had to get to you.”

Bucky sighed as stood up and moved to sit on the bed next to her. His hand came up and ran along her cheek, before bringing his lips to hers for a brief kiss. “I was afraid that you weren’t going to wake up. They kept saying that you were okay, that it would be when you were ready that you would wake up. All I could think about was how there was a whole day where I thought I was going to lose you. And I hated that feeling.”

“If you’re trying to say I shouldn’t go on-” She tried saying before he cut her off.

“No, I would never say that. Not when you know how to take care of yourself. I was just thinking it would be a lot easier and probably safer for the both of us if we stick together as a team.” His words had caused her eyebrow to raise.

“You mean babysit me.” It caused them both to chuckle.

“Is it really babysitting if we enjoy working together?” He asked with a smile pulling at his lips.

She shook her head slightly. “Fine. But even I know it might be a while before I’m out in the field again.”

“About that,” He said as leaned into her a little more. “During your time away from the field, I was thinking about a vacation for the both of us. Lay low while the others cut all the loose ends to ensure there’s no one coming after us.”

“A recovery vacation, while laying low? I’m definitely listening.”

The two of them knew things would never be perfect out there. Not in their line of business. Not with their pasts or even who they’ve become. There would be times where they’d be placed in this same position. They'd be willing to keep the other one safe, no matter the cost.

All WorksTag (The tag to be notified for everything I write):

@xoxo-nikki-xoxo @mrs-jackson-kenner @mizzzpink

@amariaamaris

Excelsior Tag(All MCU fics):

@hey-there-angels @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione@taylordrunkonwhiskey @old-enough-to-know-better73 @elijahs-wife @jesuswasnotawhiteman @kpopgirlbtssvt

Winter Soldier tag(For only and all things Bucky):

@fandom-princess-forevermore

[hercleverboy]

the comfort of rain

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ spencer reid is her soulmate, isn’t he?

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ heartbreak, unrequited love

word count ↠ 1.6k

“Do not bother holding on to that thing that does not want you. You cannot make it stay.” — Rupi Kaur

Spencer Reid was her soulmate.

She was sure of it. The pair had been inseparable since she’d started working with the BAU four years prior, practically joined at the hip, never one without the other. 

He’d never fail to bring her breakfast on days filled with paperwork, when he knew she’d barely slept and craved nothing more than a banana muffin from the bakery down the road. He simply placed it on her desk with a warm smile, receiving a thankful one from her in return. 

Such a small gesture, but it meant the world to her. 

He would press little kisses to the crown of her head after they arrested an unsub, a small act of thankfulness that she was ultimately unharmed. An appreciation that she was okay, safe. 

For all intents and purposes, they were only best friends. Though she’d been helplessly in love with him for years, and she had an inkling he felt the same. She didn’t want to make assumptions, but then again she was the only person he ever really got up close and personal with. Sure, he’d hug the other team members too occasionally, but she didn’t see him holding Emily or JJ’s hands on the jet home after a case that ended badly. He didn’t give them countless book recommendations, or spend his evenings watching TV shows that she was in love with just so they’d have something else to talk about.

He always offered her his coat when it was cold, or when the rain began to fall heavily and she was only in her shirt and jeans (despite how he’d commented, as he looked up at the sky, that it was likely going to rain based on the colour of the clouds. She never listened to him.) 

One of his most treasured memories is the time they were hanging out at his place on a rare Saturday that they didn’t have to go into work for a case. They were watching some eight-part crime series on Netflix that she’d finally convinced him to watch with her, after her complaining about needing someone to talk about it with. The loud clap of thunder cracked through the sky, making her jump up from his couch in excitement, looking out the window as rain began to fall heavily from the grey clouds above. She looked out silently as the rain pattered, watching how people on the street below rushed to find shelter from the unexpected downpour. 

Spencer frowned, coming to stand behind her. 

“I love the rain.” She commented, noting his presence behind her. 

His frown deepened. “Why? It’s cold and wet and- gross.” 

She chuckled quietly at his comment. “You’re not wrong there, but I meant more that I love watching the rain. I like the way it sounds. The way it smells. It reminds me that I’m alive. It’s comforting.”

It was quiet for a little, the sound of the rain pinging harshly against the window. 

“Pluviophile.”

She turned back to him, speaking softly. “What?”

“Pluviophile. It refers to a person who loves the sound of the rain. They often find a sense of joy or peace of mind during rainy days.”

She bit her lip to stifle her smile and turned back to the window, giving him a simple nod in return.  She was always somehow surprised by his never-ending plethora of knowledge.

They stood and watched the downpour together in a comfortable silence.

Spencer supposed the rain wasn’t so bad, after that.

In the recent weeks, she found herself wanting so badly to confess her feelings, but as every friends to lovers story goes- she feared rejection. She feared him leaving. And she’d certainly rather love him from afar than confess her feelings and risk losing him.

He’d managed to embed himself so deeply in her heart that she was sure there could never be anyone else for her.

She was mesmerised by him. Compelled by every word that left his mouth, enthralled by all his random knowledge and infinite number of stories he’d committed to his memory. When they sat on his couch watching Doctor Who, she’d gladly listen to any time travel related ranting he wanted to get off of his chest, without any interruptions or eye rolls. (She could listen to him talk forever.)

She’d often fall asleep on his shoulder, and he’d smile down gently at his best friend, a woman he cared so deeply for. 

She stuck by him throughout everything, and she never sugar-coated things. If she thought he was being petty or overreacting slightly in a situation she was the first to bring it up, to call him out. And he’d listen, too, because he trusted her more than anyone and it’s likely she was right about it. She took care of him, in a way that no one ever had before. It was unspoken between them that they’d essentially die for one another, two souls destined to be one another’s everything. 

When he confided in her one night that he was afraid that he should’ve amounted to more, she was quick to soothe his worries. She held him as he sniffled into her shoulder, with hushed reassurances that he was already doing incredible things, and that his work was making the world a safer place, one case at a time.

She was particularly close to JJ, the woman who had become like a sister to her. She told JJ of her feelings for Spencer, and the blonde had just smiled at her in response, as if it had been obvious. 

“You should go for it.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Think so? I know so. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. You mean everything to him.”

That conversation was the final push she needed to decide that it was time to come clean about her feelings.

With the nervous pit in her stomach being overwhelmed by the excitement she felt, she tried to clear her thoughts. She could only hope this went well. She was meant to meet Spencer at his place for the evening, and so knocked gently on the door when she arrived, taking deep breaths to prepare herself.

The door swung open, Spencer flashing her a smile when he saw her. “Hey! I’m glad you’re here, I have something to tell you.”

She grinned, making her way past him into the apartment. “Oh god, what did you do this time? Did you misplace your phone again?” She joked, sliding off her jacket.

Spencer shook his head, biting his lip to supress his smile. 

“Okay. Then what is it?” 

He smiled then, and it was a smile she’d hadn’t seen him wear before. One that was so much bigger than the rest, one that reached his eyes and made them glimmer with hope and glee.

“I- um. I met someone.”

and just like that, her face dropped. 

“Her name is Maeve, she’s a Geneticist. We’ve been talking over the phone for about a month now. I know what you’re going to say, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just wanted to see if it was going to go anywhere-“

Her ears stopped tuning in to what he was saying. She could only hear the pounding of her heart filling her ears, tears burning her eyes as she tried her best to keep them at bay. That’s the smile he’d had, the one she couldn’t quite place at first. She recognised it now. The realisation hit her like a train. 

Lovesick.

Spencer had stopped talking, looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

She snapped her head up to meet his eyes.

No, I’m not okay. I’m in love with you.

Is what she wanted to say. 

Instead- 

“Sorry, Spencer. I think I’m gonna have to take a rain check tonight. I’m feeling a little sick, so I think I’m just going to head home.” 

“Oh, are you sure? You can always stick around here for a bit, I could take care of you. You know, technically I am a doctor.” He grinned, attempting a joke.

She didn’t laugh, but gave him her best fake smile, one she could only hope he didn’t read too much into. She hoped he couldn’t see the tell-tale profiler signs of devastation on her features that she was so desperately trying to hide. 

If he did notice, he said nothing about it. 

She shook her head. It was taking everything in her to hold herself together, but she’d be damned if she ruined his happiness because of her own pitiful feelings.

She remembered the smile, his beautiful, lovesick smile. It was for Maeve, not her. It made her heart ache in a way that felt like it was trying to claw its way out of her chest. 

“It’s okay. I’ll uh- I’ll text you later.” She mumbled, grabbing her coat before leaving the apartment, leaving a confused Spencer behind. 

However, all was forgotten when his phone started buzzing, Maeve’s name flashing across the screen. He smiled.

Outside in the car park, she sat in her car as the thunder cracked above her, the treacherous rain coming down in harsh hits against her windshield.

She found herself grateful for the rain in that moment, as the dam holding her emotions back broke, tears flooding down her cold, pink-tinted cheeks.

She placed her head in her hands and began to sob, her uneven breaths and heartbroken cries being slightly muffled by the patters of the rain hitting the gravel outside.

She felt comforted by the sound.

It was as though the sky was crying with her.

Yes, Spencer Reid was her soulmate.

But she just wasn’t his.

Tag list - @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx

[bored-storyteller]

uh I love your storys about Uta ^^. You write him so good and in character . Could you maybe write a story about him were him and the reader ( human) meeting at an auction like reader was captured and meets Uta there . But maybe they escape the auction house and meet Uta sometime after this again. I`m sorry I love Uta angst and fluff .

Dear anon. I'll tell you, your request inspired me a lot (that's why I did it right away), but I must confess that I'm not really satisfied with the result and I'm sorry (I rewrote it three times). I have to thank my poor summary skills for this defeat, I don't think I managed to really give you what you asked me. Feel free to send me clarifications or a further request for me to remedy!

43- Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x human!reader

“The bird of ill omen and the broken toy”

You are in front of his eyes, huddled in a corner of the cold and dark container. On your knees, tied up, you are the condemned to death ready to face the gallows, or rather you are a delicious dish wrapped in its most beautiful dress to entice the spectators.

"Oh, look here ... what a delightful creature."

You are not the main article, you are not the rare object, yet your smell has brought him there. Uta is not a glutton, but he couldn't resist the temptation to peek at whoever was carrying such an inviting fragrance.

"This is really a shame ..." his voice is sweet, calm, yet ironic and cruel. Yes, it's a shame that he has to give you to some miserly ghoul.

Uta doesn’t usually prefer a certain type of food, he is not delicate or picky, nor does he have problems eating even his similar ones. But he has to admit that while those bright eyes of yours, shining with tears and desperation, look at him, he really would like to be able to eat them. Yes, it is rare for someone to stimulate his appetite in this way, customers really have to thank him for his self-control.

You are so small in his shadow, and even if you tremble, even if you smell of fear, he sees no hope in your eyes.

You know you have no escape. As little as you may be when it comes to ghouls, you know you can't save yourself. You heard them talk.

You would rather die now than continue that torture.

He feels it, and oh, how tempted he is to grant your wish.

He leans over you, he wants to see you well, he wants to hear you. The demonic beak of his mask brushes against you, rubs against your temple like the muzzle of a mother cuddling his cub, or the muzzle of a lion that is playing with his prey.

Maybe, if he had met you in another situation ... maybe ...

No. He doesn't necessarily have to devour you. Nothing is ever said with Uta, even he knows it, he knows himself. Who knows what would have happened if you had met somewhere else. Who knows who you were, elsewhere.

In conclusion, you were both unlucky: you cannot survive, and he cannot be the one to eat you. You have something in common.

"Uta!"

Roma's voice makes its way, muffled by the metal container in which you are locked up - like a ready meal -

"I'm coming!" It's time for him to go on stage, for you it's time for the final bow.

He doesn't tell you anything anymore, he doesn't need to. He will say goodbye to you that same evening, but he feels a little happy that you are among the last items to be exhibited.

He still gives you a look, you, little shaking puppet, sweet broken toy. Who can fix you anymore?

After that, he leaves you behind, abandoned in the cold darkness of your last hours in solitude, as he plunges into the cold light of demons, ready to entertain his fellow men with his affable ways. What a crazy world you are both in.

. . .

Locked in your cold prison, if you could you would cover your ears in a desperate attempt to get away from the announcements and screams, but it's impossible for you. So you wait, trembling in your shell of panic, not knowing what to do. If only you had at least a vain hope, a false chance. If only you could save yourself, for some reason, any reason then yeah, oh, how dear life would be to you thereafter. But you can't even think now.

And you don't even realize that the noises change. The cries of the victims become the cries of the executioners, and the applause becomes breathless footsteps in search of a safe place. But you don't know it, or at least not until they get closer, more distressed. They are probably running away. But who can save you? Who knows you are there? Who can remember you?

And in fact, no one stops, no one frees you, and the footsteps and the screams brush against you and pass you, without bothering to kill or save you. At least you think so.

But as soon as the silence comes, the creaking of the doors opening makes you lift your face, towards the light.

He is there again, and you wonder if that Bird of ill Omen is not your hallucination. With that bizarre suit, that hateful mask, and those ancient letters around his neck that seem ready to strangle him.

He doesn't talk to you. He is simply looking at you, you feel him looking at you, behind that deadly beak. In the silence that surrounds you, whether it is a real silence or created by mutual presence, he suddenly occupies your every thought in those few seconds of eternity. Maybe it's the touch of death that wanders your mind, but suddenly unusual questions arise in you. Who knows who he is, what he does. What does he like and what not ... does he live in the alleys of the city, or maybe, instead, without that mask he pretends to be someone?

He came to take you and devour you. But it almost seems like a strange barrier is keeping him away from you.

And while you are suspended in this limbo of cold resignation, as he came he disappears, and with his disappearance he takes away from you that sad calm that had enveloped you.

The panic returns as someone approaches.

Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Clean eyes, a clean face, no mask is looking at you agitated. You don't know how to answer, you don't even know if what you are seeing is true.

“I'm a human, I'm a CCG investigator. Don't worry, it's okay, we'll get you out of here. "

Without your being fully aware of it, you find yourself in warm, safe arms that take you away from hell behind you. You didn't even realize you were crying.

. . .

He recognized your smell right away.

Even if it's been some time since his meeting with you, it's hard to forget something that has affected him so much, especially if it is something that has particularly touched his sensitivity over that of others.

And it's not that Uta is then easily surprised, he is ready to expect anything from that crazy world, yet you manage to upset him without even knowing that he is there.

You are smiling. And that's not the fact, but at the same time it is. You are smiling sweetly, sincerely. Your eyes are clear and bright, and you are listening to someone talking to you about their petty problems without batting an eye.

That night, that night he met you, he came back to eat you. He was not a ghoul who got lost in gluttony, but given the situation he had a particular interest in the statement "carpe diem".

He hadn't, in the end. In the end he just looked at you. It would have been easy to swallow you, but he had left you there. He had told himself that he hadn't made it in time, but who knows what was really going through his head at that moment.

It doesn't matter anymore, however. What's a broken toy like you doing so quietly exposed? How can you smile at people like that, when surely the world around you has crumbled into millions of little bits?

You make him angry, you know? Humans like you, whom the world keeps getting back on their feet despite everything, provoke anger in him.

And you are there, a few steps away from him, and you do not realize that the one who had the task of trampling your life is watching you.

And no matter how much anger he may feel inside of him, he can't help but look at you, as you speak comfortable words to someone, while you give your attention as if you have no problem.

"Uta?" Renji's voice, intent on looking at him from behind the coffee shop counter, makes him look away from you.

"Nh? Ah… ”His gaze falls on his now coffee-stained lap. The stain is almost invisible on the black sweater, but it is damp and warm.

"Don't laugh ... can you give me a towel please?"

"I'm not laughing." Yet Uta could swear that in the serious voice of his trusted friend a note of amusement is audible even to those who do not know him.

Carefully he puts the cup back on the saucer, making sure not to do any further damage.

This then. When was he ever so distracted for a human?

But when he instinctively looks for you, after all that nice little theater, you're not there anymore. The table you occupied is empty.

Only one object remained abandoned on the shiny surface. A book lies alone, the bookmark sticking out in the middle.

It is placed on the side where you sat. Did you leave in such a hurry that you left it there?

It is not that he has a real reason to do it, yet, while he is about to leave :Re, with all the tranquility that characterizes him, he picks up that literary volume in his hands, hiding it inside his jacket. Even that printed paper is imbued with your smell by now.

. . .

You talk to books, apparently. The edges of the pages are filled with thoughts written in pencil. They are all yours, it almost seems like you use the books as your diary, but there is nothing so personal about you. They are just… points of view. The world told by you, depending on the inspiration that the phrases in the book give you.

"It must be difficult to live in a world where you can talk to your food about your favorite book."

When Uta's eyes had settled on that particular phrase, he had closed. For someone else it might have been a stupid phrase, probably, but for him it was like a punch in the stomach.

He doesn't know if you wrote it before or after the accident, but in any case that simple sentence arouses a mixture of emotions that he doesn't really know where to place. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't understand what it meant to be a ghoul in that world, but on the other hand, the utopia in which Renji seems so hoping could be made up of people like you. If only he believed it, Uta could like that world, as long as there was a place in that world for someone like him.

“Excuse me, did you happen to find a book yesterday? I'm afraid I left it here by mistake. " Your cordial voice betrays a note of alarmism as you speak to the young girl. Your hands grip the counter as if it were a rock of salvation, but your feet are ready to run elsewhere, to look somewhere else in case it isn't there.

"Oh ... no, I'm sorry, I haven't seen any books." Touka's voice is sorry, an apologetic tone hovers between her words.

"Oh, damn ... sorry, thanks anyway!" Your words are so hasty, so quick that he doesn't have time to interrupt them.

The bell rings and the door closes with a click.

"You have it, don't you?" Renji never misses anything - or almost -.

"Yeah, it’s better that I give it back to them before they run all over Tokyo on foot."

"How long have you been so thoughtful?"

Uta allows himself to take a last look at the silver-haired ghoul from over his sunglasses, as he prepares to leave the cafe: "I'm always thoughtful."

. . .

The snow has just started to fall. It is light and silent, the parks of the metropolis have not yet begun to turn white.

You would gladly stay and watch the show from the heat of your home, if it weren't for that damn book you forgot somewhere. Oh, you love your books, but they're so good at hiding. You were convinced you left it in the coffee shop!

"Excuse me…"

A cordial voice caresses your eardrums. It's so warm and peaceful, yet a chill shiver stops the blood in your veins.

Turning around, you meet a man dressed in black. He is strange, but it doesn't surprise you, there are a lot of strange people in such a big city, even people who wear sunglasses on a snowy day.

You had already seen him in the cafe, but you didn't dwell on him. Not because he doesn't get your attention, just… it was an instinct.

“I think you were looking for this. I found it yesterday by chance. "

Clear and tapered fingers hand you your much-desired book. On fair skin, intertwining dark patterns form inexplicable designs, at least for you, but you're sure they have a lot to say, don't they?

Slowly you reach out your hand, and hesitantly touch the cover, to resume what you were looking for.

The night of the accident did not disappear. You are scared. You are afraid of death, but even more of pain, of imprisonment. You are afraid of fear itself. However, you are also afraid of not living, of wasting, of losing.

You are in a limbo that does not let you escape, and you can not help but continue your life, savoring every second, waiting for the Bird of ill Omen to come and get you.

So you push back the mistrust again, and a grateful and kind smile goes to the one who helped you, without asking for explanations.

"Thank you very much." Your voice reaches his pierced ears with such unexpected sweetness.

"It was a pleasure." His smile, decorated with the piercing, is barely hinted at, but delicate - reassuring? -

And for endless moments you look at each other, in silence, without speaking and without thinking. And then, as if nothing had happened, the dances between prey and predator begin.

"Can I buy you a coffee?"

. . .

Your eyes look at him shiny, frightened. You are still in a cage, imprisoned by a body that will soon be ready to consume you.

Uta wonders if you really never anticipated this. All the times you've crossed paths, have you really ever been in doubt? Every time you looked at him, every time you smiled at him or laughed at his words, did you never guess the truth? No, maybe you've always known it from the start, broken toys never work too well.

The mask of that evening, like a macabre mockery - both for him and for you - is leaning on the work table, not far from you, looking at you placidly. It’s a coincidence that he pulled it out just in the morning.

Suddenly the images of that day come back between you two, like a dream. The incomprehensible to you tattoo on his neck has a creepy look overwhelmed by the shadows that the soft lights create on the ghoul.

Fear invades you, like a script. Yet, while the Bird of ill Omen looms over you, trapping you in the corner of the room with his arms, your terror is different from what he had already seen in you. Today it is almost more visible, less controlled, as you tremble beneath him.

Maybe it's the surprise of being caught in a trap by someone who – perhaps- you had slowly begun to love – despite everything-, or maybe, simply, inside you a little hope still survives.

Uta's head bends, and the tip of his nose brushes your neck, smelling the coveted perfume that had so attracted him.

If you're so scared, how did you smile all that time? How did you keep going? How did you keep loving that world?

Beside his mask, as a warning of future torment, your dear book lies silent, ready to say goodbye. You lent it to him last time, he asked you for it.

Your smell is as strong, sweet, delicious as ever - so why is his stomach closing up? -

His jaws open, and as delicate as cruel they enclose your fragile neck. In them, the accelerated beats of your heart, still alive, make him tremble.

One bite and you will be nothing but dead flesh, and he hesitates.

He had to kill you before it was too late, right? Uta should know himself well enough, he had to understand right away what was happening inside him.

A sigh, and then his lips pull away, his saliva stops wetting you. He is not hungry, he has already eaten.

He is still upon you, but now he is only looking at you, with his eyes of blood and darkness. You, like a frightened puppy, remain shaking in a corner for a few moments, lost in his pupils. And then, like a crazy lightning bolt, you run away, as you have always run away. You slip under his arms, and as fast as you can you reach the door of the shop.

Uta watches you go, swallows bitter air, and then bows his head, surrendered.

What will happen now? Will you shut up in fear? Will you tell anyone? Only time will tell.

He slowly gets up, his hands caressing each other's tattooed arms, in a distracted gesture of protection, as he approaches the table. His fingers touch it, and then squeeze it, while he looks at the book that is left alone again, without your eyes on it.

And then, suddenly, as if he had woken up from a dream, he notices something: your smell has not vanished.

Turning his view, he sees you. You are still there, or maybe you are back there.

Now it is you who are on the side of the light, and he is in the corner of the cage. The Bird of ill Omen has become the broken toy, left alone among his masks.

"What's up?" No matter the crack inside, Uta always looks so mature, peaceful, even after he has threatened to kill you.

You take a step towards him, but your outstretched arm continues to secure yourself to the door jamb. If you left he wouldn't follow you, you know that right?

"I ... I think I'm crazy, Uta ..." You too realize how much your behavior is against logic, how foolish it is to remain - to search - in your nightmare. But on the other hand, humans ... no, people, when they are desperate, lose the light of reason, and do wrong things. Things the world says are wrong. That world, which claims to be the only one, when it is nothing more than a facade, a corner of something much larger.

"Yes, I think so too." He really thinks so. You have to be crazy to still be there, at least as crazy as he is. "Why are you still here?"

You shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself more out of shyness than out of fear - yeah, you're no longer afraid, it's as if you've run out of batteries.

"I ... as long as I'm alive I can choose, right?" It came out of your lips so naturally that you didn't even realize it was you who uttered that sentence, yet it's a truth so deep, so intense that it has guided you from that damn night to this day.

"And what are you choosing?"

Your eyes cast a fleeting glance outside, at the glimmer of the city, and without hesitation you gently accompany the door to close, imprisoning you. Imprisoning both of you.

Maybe it's a prison, but this time it's really your choice. You are with that Bird of ill Omen, but you are not tied up, you are not thrown to the ground in a cold corner. You are with him, surrounded by works of art that stare at you impassively, but it was you who decided it.

"I choose not to ignore anymore ..." Your fingers intertwine with each other, you play with them as if you need to keep them busy as you approach him. He is waiting for you. "I want to understand."

"How can you understand?" He would like to tell you, but he doesn't say a word, because not even he can understand you. What kind of mask would suit you? Who knows, yet he has learned enough about you that he should be able to think of at least one. But no, you are always there, hoping for something, believing that after all, living is worthwhile.

So he stays there, even when you lean against him. Not a contact, but a fusion. Stomach against stomach, lungs against lungs, heart against heart. Your hands cling to his arms only to hold him closer, and as he looks at your closed eyes he knows you're listening to him. You're trying to feel his every breath, every twitch of him. You want to get inside him, and he lets you do it - isn't that what he wanted too?

The predator and the prey united in a single entity for an eternal instant.

It's all so against the moral and social rules, but what do you care now? You already know he could kill you. And in that world that goes round and round without stopping, a black writing in an ancient language that also goes around a greedy neck could be your starting point for putting the pieces back together. Maybe it's a disease, maybe it's madness, but deep down, why not? Why not go a little further? Better to die than to be afraid to live, right?

"How much confidence ..."

His voice further softened by his whisper makes your previously closed eyelids lift. His nocturnal eyes look at you slightly narrowed, a slight upward crease caresses his lips without even knowing it. It is difficult for Uta to do something without being aware of it.

He is very beautiful. Beautiful and awful.

"Can't I?"

The world out there, the crazy little world is gone.

"Well, why not ... you are my food, after all."

[terrm9]

you give it to me anyway (Tatum X Lina)

Set immediately after the ending of chapter 13.

Update (after the events of chapter 14): in this little series, Tatum does not go back to the army but is relocated to work as a bodyguard for some random politician in Rutherland. That's why this goodbye of theirs is not as heartbreaking as it was canonically. Therefore, shall the two other parts happen, they will not follow canon because I have them planned and I refuse to make new plans

WC: 3 600; rating: M (mature)

Warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of smoking, alcohol consumption, adult situations; hurt/comfort

Author’s note: my first Foreign Affair fic - it was so much fun to write I forgot about my two idiot doctors for a while. This is supposed to be part 1 of three-parts mini series, but 1) I have no idea when those two other parts will happen and 2) if it goes by plan, they will be all completely okay to read as stand-alones so hopefully this will be enjoyable no matter what.

She could feel it. She could swear she could; she could pinpoint the moment her mind stopped working and all the energy normally divided between the gears in her head and the beating of her heart suddenly focused solely on the latter.

Her mind stopped working and her heart drummed against her ribcage twice as hard.

Lina doesn’t remember much after that, after bursting through the door and demanding an answer (“Why the fuck would you take Tatum off the team?”), her memories a messy blur of shouting (hers), a voice trying to calm her down (Demarco’s) and the one that mattered in the end.

“Lina,” Tatum put his hand on her shoulder, his face stoic – but she knew better, she could see his eyes, eyes pained, eyes pleading. “Get inside. I will be with you in a moment.”

“But-“ she opened her mouth to protest, only to be stopped by Tatum’s gentle squeeze and eyes more pleading.

Just get in and wait for me, he whispered and that’s how she has gotten here.

Pacing back and forth in her room, biting her lip so hard she feels blood. Her brain is working again, thinking and analyzing (overthinking, overanalyzing) and she needs a cigarette, a shot of vodka, she needs to punch something (someone), needs to just do something.

The tremor in her hands violent and she clenches them in fists, telling herself that it’s anger, a rage running through her whole body, but there is that traitorous voice that whispers – no, screams – that she knows this is more than that, that it’s fear.

A lump in her throat formed and unmoving and Lina swallows once, twice, keeps swallowing until she cannot catch her breath but the fucking lump is still there and tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and-

No.

Line Monroe does not cry. She has learnt not to cry, hasn’t cried since-

She does not cry.

Tries to take a deep breath but it’s completely useless and Lina knows how she feels. Like a crystal vase in the middle of a big wooden table, beautiful and shiny and protected at all costs – all of it worth nothing when an earthquake comes. This is her personal earthquake, every second pushing her closer to the edge, sobs threatening to cut her open, to leave her mouth and never stop and she wonders if falling over the edge and just break into million pieces would be such a terrible thing.

She could beg. She would beg, if only that would help. She only begged once in her life.

(Lina has never been the picture of a perfect child – well, definitely not after Tatum left. No, she lived for making her mother’s political career an actual hell, she laughed into her face in the middle of a scolding. The First Daughter of Rutherland couldn’t give less fucks about what her mother wants, needs, asks for. Nobody ever asked what she wanted, needed, asked for.)

She only begged once in her life – she was seven and desperately wanted a puppy. (She could do it again at the age of twenty-two and desperately wanting her Tatum.)

Mom, I promise I’ll be good. (Mom, I promise I’ll be good.)

I will take care of him. (He will take care of me.)

I won’t eat sweets. (I won’t smoke. Won’t get drunk.)

I will do all of my homeworks. (I will go on as many fake dates as you want.)

I won’t watch TV. (I won’t cause another scandal.)

I will clean the whole house! (I will attend all the summits, I will, I will.)

Mom, please. (Mom, please.)

She never got the puppy. (She knows that no matter how much she begs, she will not get to keep Tatum, either.)

An earthquake and she is starting to accept her fate, awaiting the final shake, the strongest vibration that will make her fall from the table and shatter.

There is a soft knock on the door and she feels it coming, the magnitude strong enough to stir fear inside of people.

Tatum walks in, closing the door behind him carefully – and the Richter scale does not have enough values to describe how dangerous this earthquake has gotten.

“Lina,” he whispers softly, stretching his arms towards her and that’s it.

The crystal vase falls to the ground (into Tatum’s arms) and the shards cut skin (and the sobs cut Lina open).

It is easy after the first one – like the blood spilling out of the cut, like a plug removed and water pouring, flooding, destroying, the sobs leave her mouth and her shoulders shake and Lina hasn’t done this in four years, hasn’t shed a tear for so long but Tatum’s arms encircle her, strong and firm and safe and no, breaking into million pieces is not such a terrible thing after all.

She thinks she screams in one moment and Tatum only hugs her tighter, slowly dropping to the soft carpet, pulling Lina with him, his arms never (never, never) leaving her shivering body – and she holds onto him tighter than she holds onto her own life (own dignity, own worth, none of it more important that holding onto Tatum), hands still clenched in fists. Lina’s grip on his perfect white shirt must be uncomfortable and she is sure she is ruining the fabric, if not with her nails then definitely with her mascara-tinted tears.

For a long, long moment they stay like that – Tatum kneeling on the floor and Lina curled up against his chest, sobs wrecking her body and his hands drawing soothing circles on her back.

“We will make this work, Lina,” he whispers when the room falls into silence, the only memory of Lina’s ignominious breakdown being Tatum’s soaked shirt and her throbbing temples. “You are strong and the other bodyguards are capable. Demarco is a good agent, they will keep you safe.”

“I don’t care about being safe,” she scoffs. “All my life, everyone has only cared about me being safe. You are… You have always been the only one to care about how I am feeling. If I am happy. And now you are leaving again.”

Tatum pulls back a little – not enough to break the contact of his hands on her shoulders, just enough to look her into eyes – and with a voice that is quiet but firm, leaving no room for doubts, he says: “I am not leaving you, Lina. I won’t be returning to army, okay? I am going back to Rutherland tomorrow and only then I will be informed about this move – maybe I am only being taken off for some time. This is not the same as the last time.”

“I cannot lose you again,” she whispers, not meeting his eyes. As if she was not sure about her decision to share such moment of vulnerability with him.

“You will not. Who is my toughest galyetas here, hm?”

Lina looks up at him at that, the initial shock from hearing the old nickname (the one she hasn’t heard in years, the one she has missed for years) soon replace by her smile, however faint and it’s like the sun peeked into the room all at once.

(Eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet from tears and lips swollen from biting and has she always been this beautiful?, Tatum wonders.)

“I am,” she chuckles before Tatum demands the answer and encouraged by the moment of clarity that has settled over them, she manages to stand up and open the closet.

Impulsive would be a great word to describe Lina. Unpredictable. Fierce. Mostly fierce, Tatum thinks and it should not be a surprise for him when Lina takes off her skinny jeans and light blue blouse, carelessly throwing them over the chair and it should not be a surprise when she follows the motion to take her bra off, no, it should not be a surprise for him and yet-

The heat in his cheeks is inappropriate, for God’s sake, and he should – he must – tear his gaze off her naked back, but he cannot (and how many nights he wished he was granted this? how many days?). He stares and stares as she ruffles through the closet and it’s his time to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“I should… I will leave you to change,” he finds his voice and it’s low and husky and inappropriate, but Lina just smirks as she turns slightly to face him better and he needs to avert his gaze, he must not stare at the curve of her breasts, so perfect above her ribcage.

“You have already seen me naked,” the smirk widens. “And besides, you should get out of that wet shirt too.”

Getting out of his clothes does not sound like a good idea to him, not in the slightest, but it gives him a reason to look down and unbutton his shirt – and that motion gives him some time to take a deep breath and respond.

“Yes, I have seen you naked. When we were five and swimming in a lake.”

He can swear he heard Lina mutter ‘time to check how much has changed in those fifteen years’, but Tatum doesn’t trust himself enough to engage in that conversation and so he carefully slips out of his jacket and the stained shirt and switches his radio off before putting everything in a neat stack on the top of a drawer.

Tatum sits down again after that, his back leaned against Lina’s bed and soon she joins him, soft grey cotton shorts and tank top on. She mirrors his position and they share a private smile, because it is their position, the one everyone knows them by – knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, (heart to heart), Tatum’s arm wrapped around Lina’s shoulders and her hand resting on his right knee. It is always this position for them and Lina can’t count how many photos they have together, where they sit exactly like this.

“Are we going to be okay?” she whispers, almost not daring to break the comfort they bring out of each other. But she needs to. She needs to know that they are going to be okay.

“Of course,” he nudges her knee with his own softly and smiles down at her. For a moment, she pretends she does not see the panic swirling in his eyes, giving away that he does not know, that there is no of course for them.

She nods, her fingers drawing mindless patterns on his leg and she is sure they are not that mindless, she knows that in a language only known to them she is writing her confessions, she is writing a love letter.

More mindless patterns and Lina feels Tatum’s eyes on her, caring and loving and worried, definitely worried, but she doesn’t look up at him because the emotions his gaze can stir inside of her are enough to send her into another breakdown.

“Do you remember Scott Diaz’s party?” she asks into the silence.

Tatum chuckles loudly and squeezes the shoulder he is hugging. “Of course.”

“It was the first time I got drunk,” Lina says as if it was an explanation itself, when in reality this conversation was not making any sense so far.

Scott’s party was the one which only Lina attended when she was sixteen – Tatum had to stay home to help his father with something (it was not important to Lina back then) and Lina didn’t mind that much because she liked Scott and she believed there were higher chances of her charming him without Tatum’s alert gaze directed at her.

“Yes, I remember,” Tatum decides to play this game that makes no sense with her. “It was my toilet you threw up into that night.”

“I remember getting drunk with Scott and his stupid friends and realizing that they were a group of idiots, with Scott being the greatest idiot of them all. But I was drunk and he was my first crush and I just wanted him to like me and I was ready to do anything.”

“Yes,” Tatum says again, this time much more quietly, though. “I remember your phone call at 2 AM. You were crying and asked me to come and rescue you because you are drunk and nauseous and Scott is a dick but you might sleep with him if I don’t come.”

There is a long pause and Lina thinks he might not continue. Even worse, she fears he might ask why she is bringing the story up now.

To her utmost surprise, Tatum laughs and continues: “I stole my dad’s car so that I could get you out of there faster. You threw up in the backseat and my dad almost killed me because he was supposed to take your mother to the airport the next morning.”

Lina laughs with him shortly and the room falls into silence once again.

Once again, Lina makes sure to interrupt the comfort it brings.

“And then you left and there was nobody to rescue me anymore.”

She is not sure why she said that. No, Lina does not want to tell Tatum about those years he has been away. She is scared (and she has never been that scared in her whole damn life), scared to share the failures and slips of her past, scared that he would get up and leave-

(Because that’s what he should do)

-scared that he would see what she sees every time she looks in the mirror and Lina does not care about the opinion of the others, she does not care if someone sees her as someone worthy or not, as long as that someone is not Tatum.

Deep down, she knows he would not, he will not leave, she knows Tatum - the same Tatum that strokes her upper arm now, giving her the space to sort her thoughts – will stay with her even in the moments she does not want to stay with herself.

And there is one fear that is bigger, greater, more terrible than the fear of being left – fear of hurting him. The idea of her past being the reason of his hurt, being the thing that puts the haunted look into his eyes, makes her want to throw up.

She will need to tell him eventually because if somebody deserves her honesty, it’s Tatum Mendoza, her best friend, her savior, her Tatum.

Eventually does not mean now.

Tatum wishes Lina could say something, anything, he wants her to share her demons with him and he almost asks her to tell him everything but before he can do so, she turns abruptly and looks at him, her eyes no longer puffy or red – glossy and bright and beautiful now and she doesn’t say a word.

She just looks at him like he is the only thing in the whole world worth looking at.

"It's your eyes," she says quietly, reaching to cup his stubbled cheek with her left hand.

"My eyes?" Tatum asks, surprised by the sudden statement.

Lina nods, tracing his left eyebrow with her finger before moving to stroke the skin under his eyes and finally reaching the bridge of his nose.

"There's no one else's eyes that could see into me," she whispers and her finger traces circles around his right eye now, soothing the wrinkles - reminders of their earlier laugh.

(She doesn't know those wrinkles are hers; nobody makes him laugh like she does)

Her gaze doesn't leave those eyes, not for a second and and the intensity she looks at him with is far more intimate than her naked form, bare torso and soft skin she shared with him moments ago.

Tatum is sure he must be blushing.

It’s the moment her thumb traces his lower lip when they snap.

The atmosphere of fear and uncertainty and mutual understanding so deep it ignites further fear changing into the one of passion and need and fire, fire, fire, burning inside and outside, the moment their lips meet.

He has kissed many girls and he knows Lina has kissed many people too and fuck, they even kissed each other before but this kiss is different, filled with more than just years of friendship (years of love) – filled with years of separation, years of longing, years of pain.

They kiss as if the pressure of their tongues against each other’s could be their private painkiller.

A moment later they are on the bed and Lina is not sure how they got there, she can’t remember they mouths parting but it must be so, because she is laying on her back, her hands firmly against Tatum’s shoulder blades to pull him closer and it still feels like he is not close enough, one of his hands next to her head and the other tangled in her hair, pulling on them and massaging her scalp all at once as he kisses her the way she has never been kissed before.

Lina’s hand moves from his upper back to his shoulder, caressing the old scar there and moves to his chest and his stomach and she feels him growl against the skin of her neck at the touch, the vibrations sending shivers over her whole body; she reaches his waistband and her finger fumble on the button of his trousers as he kisses her collarbone.

His fingers circle her wrist suddenly and he moves her hand away from him, gently (as he always is with her, gentle).

“You don’t want-?” she doesn’t know what to say. Me? This? Us?

“I want everything with you, Lina,” he sighs and it’s almost painful sound. “But I cannot take an advantage of this situation. You are – we both are – worried about your future, exhausted and uncertain and I don’t want our first time to happen under such circumstances. You deserve much better.”

There is a part of her that wants to cry again. Sob again and punch someone, because of course he is right.

(It is every single part of her, actually. Every single part wants to cry and sob and punch)

He is right, as he always is. He knows what she needs even when she doesn't know it herself – he always had known. Five years apart did nothing to change that.

Lina traces the lines of Tatum naked torso with her eyes and perhaps it should scare her how familiar it feels. She knows his body, every (almost every. Almost, she reminds herself) scar and every freckle, his flexed muscles and long fingers, she knows his body, even though she grew up getting to know a body of a boy and now her fingers are caressing a body of a man.

She hates how vulnerable she feels and how much she wants to share everything with him. But that's now what she has taught herself, no.

And so, despite the disgusting feeling of tension in her throat, she smirks and asks: "Why do you care about the first time so much?"

Tatum chuckles and makes a show of rolling his eyes (not leaving his position above her, not even now), biting his lower lip deep in his thoughts.

When he looks down at her again, however, his gaze is tender, too tender and intense and Lina has to avert her eyes because surely he can see into her, he can see all that she has done, all that she has caused while he was gone, not there to save her, to take care of her.

"It's not the first time I care about," he speaks softly and any hints of amusement are gone. "It's the first time with you."                                                                    

She almost asks him about his first time – she knows it must have happened after he left. There is the part that is Tatum’s childhood best friend and is simply curious. They shared everything with each other – first crush and first kiss and first platonic love, she knew his and he knew hers. Of course she is curious about his first sex or how many firsts there were, how many people that got to know him in the way she has never gotten.

There is another part of her, a bigger one, she realizes with dread, that hopes he would tell her that he has lost count, that his five years in army were filled with infinite excesses and that he would rather not talk about it – maybe then her deeds would be justified.

She cannot ask him because it’s Tatum and he would ask back.

What would she tell him?

She laughs to herself, a sardonic sound lacking any hint of joy it is supposed to carry.

I have no idea. I am not sure about the first nor about the last time. I cannot count them, I will never be able to count them because I do not remember.

I do not remember.

“Lina,” he whispers, still hovering above her. “Don’t do that. Stay here with me.”

“I-“ she opens her mouth – for what, she doesn’t know. To explain or to apologize?

“We do not have to talk, mahal. We can just lay next to each other until the morning comes, alright?”

Tatum lays down next to her and wraps his arms around her without further questions and as she puts her head on his chest and listens to the steady beat of his heart, she feels calm for the first time in weeks.

“Alright,” she whispers back.

They lay next to each other through the night, listening to each other’s hearts and breathing and Lina thinks that even though they don’t talk, there are novels of conversations exchanged between them that night, written in the softest of sounds they make.

  *** *** ***

Ever since finding out that Tatum is Filipino, I felt this desire in my heart to throw some (nick)names for Lina in his native language here and for him to use them. I can’t see him calling her darling on daily basis, but I can see him muttering it in the language he grew up with when the moment asks for it

galyetas = cookie, biscuit (Tatum’s nickname for Lina since forever)

mahal = darling, sweetheart

 I am not exactly happy with how the ending turned out but it’s not going to get better so you have to suffer through it with me

Thank you for reading!

[aminiatureworld]

Steadfast

Characters: Childe, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,241

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

Premise: He’d always assured you that he wouldn’t change, that he was still the man he was before. And yet how different things were, and how much it hurt to see what had come to pass.

In which the reader sees the changes in Childe

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for this request anon! Really from the bottom of my heart thank you. I really liked the concept of this prompt, I feel like it really gave me an opportunity to focus on how relationships change and grow, rather than always writing about new couples, or people just beginning to fall in love, although there is of course that involved. It’s interesting to see how people grow and change, even if it can be a little sad sometimes. Writing this was kind of depressing, I hope that this wasn’t too sad, considering you requested hurt comfort. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away…

Funny story, I actually hate one of the people Childe shares a name with. Look what you did to Cassandra Ajax the Lesser, look what you did… So to make up for this unfortunate coincidence I pronounce the names differently in my mind. Ajax the Lesser is pronounce “A-jack-s” and Childe’s name is pronounced “Ai-axe”.

I decided not to bullet point this, as I feel like it works better in a more “traditional format”, that being said if bullet points are easier to read I can go back and fix that.

When you’d first fallen in love with Ajax it had been before the change.

Back then everything with him had seemed so exciting, like stepping into the sea for the first time. You were a bit afraid, worried that you might be swept away all at once, but another part of you wanted to run straight ahead, to immerse yourself in this new and exciting experience. Wanted to keep going and never look back.

 You’d known Ajax since before you could remember. The two of you had grown up in the same small village, where one could hardly take five steps without bumping into someone, and being close in age had made you automatic playmates. Ajax was a brash child, not always easy to get along with, but impossible to pull away from. Even when he knocked you to the ground, or sat on you so you couldn’t move, declaring himself the winner of whatever you’d been playing, you’d still run to meet him the next day, the tears you’d shed utterly forgotten. Childhood friends might’ve been a cliché, but it was truly then that Ajax as a person had begun to stick in your mind.

This only continued throughout the course of your adolescence. Attending the same schools you two were nearly inseparable, causing you merciless teasing from the rest of your classmates. Ajax apparently got the same treatment, resulting in him decking a kid who declared you two were going to get married when you grew up. He’d been suspended for a few days, but never seemed to regret it, and when you’d gone over to his house to ask about it he’d grinned as usual, proclaiming he’d gladly do it again.

Growing up was a difficult process, so many snags and pitfalls, new anxieties, and old ones that you’d never truly worried about before. But it was all perfectly fine with Ajax there. He was always ready to pick you up, and flash you a smile to go along with his help. No wonder you found yourself hopelessly infatuated him, years of trust and affection building up to the newfound feeling of love.

 And then Ajax went missing.

You still remembered the terror that shocked your system when his mother visited, tone unnervingly light, asking if you and Ajax weren’t playing some type of game. You’d bolted outside when she’d revealed Ajax had gone missing, running towards the woods that was the only exit to the village where you lived. The adults had quickly caught up to you, but your fears had already grabbed hold, and you found yourself confronted with all you felt for him. You loved Ajax. How did this happen? Love was still so foreign, a word you could throw around but never truly catch. And yet you loved him, you loved him very much. And now he was gone.

They didn’t let you see him initially, saying he was tired, he needed rest, he’d be alright in a few days. Your imagination had run wild, your mind spinning a terrible story. Perhaps he’d been mortally wounded, perhaps he could no longer see, made blind from the snow and the cold. Perhaps he wasn’t really back, and they were simply lying to make you happy. These thoughts chased you, and it was only when you saw him again that your heart settled, even if a part of you whispered that Ajax was altogether changed.

He’d begun to leave the village. Though no one quite knew where he was you certainly knew a lot of brawling was involved. He’d sometimes sneak into your house, in a last ditch effort to keep his parents and the rest of his family from finding out how much he’d truly changed. You’d cried sometimes, seeing him with black eyes and bruising, slashes of red marring his hands, his arms, his face. He didn’t like to see you cry, would start scolding you, as if it was some fault of yours to feel worried, to care for someone who already was growing into a stranger. He always realized his fault though, and after a little while he’d pat the spot next to him. You’d sit down, head sometimes on his shoulder, listening as he spun his tales of greatness into the night, as if he were a knight fighting a great dragon and its army, rather than a troubled new adult with nowhere to turn to in terms of understanding.

 When he’d ask you to be his partner you thought you’d never feel unhappy again. You felt like you were on air, kept grounded only by his arms around you, his heart beating steadily against your ear as you nestled against his chest. You could tell he was happy too, and though it amazed you slightly that he should be as in love with you as you were with him, you could only thank the Tsaritsa and every other archon under the stars, thank them for being so generous as to give you all you ever wanted.

It seemed such a funny thought in retrospect, when it was the Tsaritsa herself who was now tearing him away from you.

 “Ajax, how could you?!” Your voice felt odd to your ears, somehow too thin, distant, as if someone else was saying it. “You knew, you knew that you’d have to join the Fatui. So why, why in the name of the Seven did you start that fight!”

“They were asking for it!” Ajax’s voice was just as raw, frustration mixed with something unknown. Entitlement perhaps, fear otherwise. “You should’ve heard the things they said about me, about my family. How they’d raised a good for nothing thief, a shithead who knew nothing more than how to swing a sword, and who would one day meet someone bigger than him, and die in the street, given to the rats, utterly forgotten. I had to prove them wrong! It was a matter of honor!”

“It was a matter of ego!” You cried, feeling the ground spin slightly underneath you. “How could you let them goad you like that Ajax, goad you when you knew exactly what was going to happen.” Sitting down you put your head in your hands. The world was shattering around you, and there was no one to blame for it except the one you loved the most.

“My darling, please, I don’t want to fight.” Ajax knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in his as you raised your head to face him.

“You always want to fight…” you replied, voice hoarse, pitched barely above a whisper. “And now you’re leaving, leaving to be part of an organization of cowardliness and deceit. What happened to the adventures you were going to have? What happened to the dragons you were going to slay?”

“I’ll get them yet.” There was amusement in Ajax’s voice, but it was clearly forced, and soon forgotten about. “I promise it’ll be alright, my darling I would never do anything to knowingly hurt you.”

And yet you have, you thought. You’ve run a dagger through my heart, and now your talking to me as if I’m not being destroyed by it. It hurts, it hurts so damn much.

“You’re going away.” You finally replied. “You’re going away to a place that will only destroy you more. And now things will never be the same again. Haven’t you wondered about what will happen to you there? If you’ll ever be allowed to return home? Haven’t you wondered whether or not you’ll ever see your family again? Things will never be the same again Ajax, never. You’ve crossed the chasm, and now you cannot return.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Ajax placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise nothing will change. I will always be myself my darling. This is only a stepping stone, a piece of my journey. I promise, I promise I will always remain as I am. And I’ll never forget about you, nor my family, nor this village. Nothing is going to change. I’ll make sure it won’t. So stop crying my darling; tears never looked good on you anyways.”

And yet, how things have already changed. Still, you said nothing, instead wiping your eyes and pressing your forehead against Ajax’s. His familiar presence was reassuring, and you thought of the years ahead of you, perhaps the eternity ahead of you, when you could no longer rely on him being there. Your eyes welled with tears again, and this time you made no move to stop them. You let yourself cry. If there was anything in the world worth crying about, surely this was one of those things.

 There was a new name signed in Ajax’s letters. “Childe” was the first name, “Tartaglia” was the second. They seemed to mar the page somewhat, written in Ajax’s – no, Childe’s – bold, slashing script. You hated the names, hated the memories they stirred up, reminders of all you’d lost in such a small amount of time.

The day you’d found out Childe was to become a Harbinger you’d raged as you’d never raged before. Locking yourself in the small apartment you’d managed to find – having moved out of Morepesok once the memories had become too oppressive – you’d spent most of your time reading the letter over and over and over.

He’d wanted you to attended, writing you were basically his family at this point, and besides, he wanted to show you to the Tsaritsa. Though the line about family filled your heart with no little affection, you’d refused flat out. It would’ve been too painful, seeing the crux of his transformation; the death of Ajax, the birth of Tartaglia. Childe had said nothing to your refusal, but he was clearly worried, and for a while afterwards the letters were more frequent. But even that stopped after a while, and now you savored what little information you could get, the torn pages of last month’s note a testimony to how much you reread them.

You wished that you could somehow end this purgatory you’d found yourself in. Though you’d begun your own career by now, pushing yourself to your limits as you were sure Childe was doing in his, nothing seemed so important as the drama that had comprised your entire life. How long had you known Childe? You could no longer remember. Long ago, so very long ago. Back when the world was simpler, comprised only of candy from one of the big cities, and fighting over the best fishing rod. Tears were shed over particularly brutal games of tag, then forgotten the next day. How odd that world seemed now, something you could never go back to.

 Every once in a while you’d be met not by a letter, but by a visit. Those were the best days. The days where you could set all your worries and your unease away. When you could once more press your ear against Childe’s chest and feel the steady beating of his heart. As long as you could do that, maybe it’d be alright.

“How’s my darling?” Childe’s voice carried down the hall of your apartment. You’d dropped the letter you’d been reading, his letter, and ran towards the entrance. Throwing yourself in his arms you wept tears of joy. Childe returned the embrace just as enthusiastically, though his eyes were dry. They’d changed, his eyes, or perhaps you’d just learned to notice the hardness that resided in them. “I’m home.” Childe murmured, eyes closed, expression one of perfect bliss. “Don’t worry beloved, I’m home.”

His presence never left yours the days he came to visit. Always there was an arm slung around your waist, or a chin resting on your shoulder or your head. His presence was as comforting as ever, and you soaked it in gladly. He’d changed. Not that you were surprised by that, of course he’d changed. His confidence was much more calculated, his words now slicked with flattery and deceit. He easily persuaded the fishmonger to give you a discount, and some sweet talk with the waiter at a café you frequented earned you a free lemon loaf. You took it, knowing that he just wanted to treat you, but the sugary confection stuck to the roof of your mouth, which had somehow developed a bitter taste.

You said nothing about it. There was no longer any point in arguing. You two were tied together by all sorts of strings. History, location, youth, love. And yet you’d gone your own separate ways. No more were the dreams of adventuring together. The real world had come along and stolen it away. The Tsaritsa had ripped that future from your grasp, and with it went your happiness.

“Are you happy, my love?” Childe asked late one evening. You were cuddled on the small couch in what comprised your living room. You nestled against Childe, breathing him in. Were you happy? No. But in that moment you weren’t unhappy either. In that moment you could forget it all.

“Do you think that sailors feel lonely?” You asked instead, drawing circles absentmindedly on the palms of Childe’s hands. He wore gloves now, expensive ones, not like the mittens that were popular in Snezhnaya. It was so odd to watch him put them on each morning. How things had changed. “They must be lonely,” you continued now, “for there’s nothing but the ship, the water, and the stars above.”

Childe paused, staring off into the distance. He did that a lot recently. You didn’t begrudge him it. Sometimes, when he was in a frank sort of mood, he admitted that he didn’t like the Fatui’s underhanded nature. Better to fight something head on than attack from the shadows. He’d quickly added on that it was the Tsaritsa’s wish, and surely she must know better than him. But it must’ve been difficult, following a path so different than the one you were born to. Betraying your nature, every day of your life.

“It must be lonely sometimes.” He finally replied, glancing back at you. “But I don’t think they’re lonely, no. The stars may be far away, but they’re steadfast, unchanging. And sailors will always be able to rely on them.” You were silent, considering his views.

“Still... stars are so very cold.”

“Perhaps, but they’re also beautiful, are they not? And like I said, who ever heard of a star changing?” A pause, as it seemed Childe was steadying himself, dipping into unpleasant territory. “I hope I will always be your star, my love. I hope you will always be able to rely on me.”

“I will.” You promised, giving Childe a quick kiss. You meant it, even if you weren’t sure that the metaphor was apt. Childe was forever changing; his mannerisms, his name, his location, his words. Sometimes it seemed as if there was nothing left of Ajax, nothing but a small sliver of light, shivering in the darkness that was fate.

“And I will always remained steadfast in my love for you.” Childe promised in return. “For there is nothing more important to me than family, and you are my family. You are that which I hold closest to my heart, and I’ll never stop loving you. I promise.”

His words were smoother than they had been before, polished by the need to be appealing to those who heard it. But you knew they were true. All throughout your life, throughout the pain, the hardship, the feeling of slowly falling off a cliff, all throughout that the one thing that remained was the love between you and Childe. Even if you had nothing, at least you had that.

“Childe?” He grimaced at the word and you paused. “Ajax,” you began again, “are you happy?”

Childe didn’t reply, instead leaning over to kiss you. You reciprocated it gladly, not truly wanting an answer to your question, although a part of you desperately needed it. Was Childe happy? You couldn’t tell. But despite your newfound hatred for the Tsaritsa, your disdain for the gods which had grown in the years of your hardship, your long abandoned faith, you still prayed to the Seven that Childe was happy. Because he deserved it. Because you loved him.

 You tried not to cry when he left, wanting to see him off with a smile and a wave, the way noble men and women would wave to the knights who were on their way to save the kingdom. But always your voice betrayed you, cracking and shaking, trembling violently against the knowledge that you wouldn’t see your loved one again, not for a very long time.

“Be careful.” You whispered, giving Childe one last hug.

“I will.” He assured you, kissing your forehead. “You be careful as well my love, I couldn’t stand it something were to happen to you. If anything happens, think of me, I’ll rush to your side immediately.”

“Don’t forget to write,” you replied, switching the subject so you didn’t have to think about the implications of Childe abandoning the Fatui, what might happen to him if he tried, “your letters are all I have.”

“I hope that’s not true!” Childe said, tone full of false mirth. “I hope you’re happy beloved, I hope you find happiness when I’m gone. Your life ought not to be spent waiting for me.”

“But you’re all I have.” You replied, staring down at the ground. “Everything has changed. My home, my work, my future. Even you’ve changed, you just keep changing and changing, running farther and farther away. But you’re still all I have. And I have to hold on to you, no matter what.”

Childe brought his hand to your cheek, raising your gaze up.

“I’m not changing my darling. No matter what I do, no matter where I go, I’m still Ajax. I’m still the man who wants to spend his life with you, who wants to travel the world with you, fighting monsters, sleeping under the stars at night. I’m still the man who wants to wake up with you every night and go to bed with you every morning. I’ll never run ahead of you, I’ll never leave you behind. Because if I’m all you have then you are what keeps me myself. You are why I can still be Ajax. And that will never change. So don’t despair, and don’t let yourself be swallowed up while I’m gone. Live your life to the fullest, I promise I’ll always be there, waiting for when you need me.”

 Childe waved from the ship he’d boarded until it disappeared over the horizon. You waved back, even as your arm ached and your hand fell asleep. “Goodbye.” You whispered to the wind. There was no reply, but then again you weren’t looking for one.

Childe, Ajax, Tartaglia. These names all belonged to the one you loved. He was a whirlwind, a rogue current which had knocked you off your feet, carrying you into uncertainty. And yet you welcomed him, longed for him, loved him with all your soul.

Even if things kept changing, even if the Fatui’s hold on him only grew stronger, you’d still believe in him. He was your star, guiding you through a desolate ocean. Even if he sometimes disappeared behind the clouds, he’d always be there. You had to believe that, had to trust him.

He was your star after all.

Your Childe.

Your Ajax.

[suchalonelysunflower]

The Siren’s Song (c.h)

Where The Storm Gathers - Chapter 3

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: A glance of hope stands in the distance as Y/N and Calum set sails to see some old friends, but the waters are not as calm as they seem.

Warnings: Mentions of murder; Torture; Violence; Blood; Abuse; Sickness; Manipulation; Language; Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 7.5 K

Author’s Note: Had to divide the chapter into two, you’ll understand why next week ;) This is the last boring chapter, I promise. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes help a lot (please help out of this ban!) 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // tag list on bio!

Book 2 Materialist || Prologue || Chapter one || Chapter two

Ashton could hear the distant sound of thunder rumbling all over the kingdom. He thought that if he could hear that, then maybe the storm was closer than anyone could anticipate. He hasn’t seen the rain in months, let alone the sun.

He got himself into this mess, he thought. He should’ve fought harder and stopped being so naive in regards to his father.

Ever since Y/N left, he made sure to let everyone know exactly the type of person the King of RoseWood was. Letters were sent and crows were removed from their positions in different courts. Ashton would look for allies to his cause; allies that could potentially help him to take the power from his father once and for all.

It was not Ashton’s plan to take the crown at such a young age, he never asked for this even though it was bestowed upon him since birth. But he would do whatever it takes to keep his family, loved ones, and people safe; and it was more than clear that his father could not provide that same kind of security and comfort.

After the failed attempt to get his daughter married to the King of the Vail and take control of their army, King Richard went into what villagers called “a madman serenade” If the rumors said that he had lost his mind and his thirst for blood was as strong as ever, he would make sure to comply.

Richard brought the kingdom ruin, taking men out of their homes and putting them into training fields. He recruited the most fearless, sadistic men of the crow’s army and put them in charge of his new order. He lost his mind to the delusion that he will run all the kingdoms and turn them into an empire. And Ashton was almost about to uncover his plan when he was suddenly taken in the middle of the night and thrown in the dungeons like a dog.

Accused of treason and deprived of any contact with the outside and its people, Ashton swore he would not let his father win. He endured the tortures with a straight face, not saying a word to anyone that tried to pull something out of him. He spent countless nights without sleep, weeks without food, and days without water, all so that the cause and his sister could be safe.

He knew they would come for her eventually, he just hoped they had more time. Maybe he could’ve escaped by now and warned her, to make sure she and Calum are safe from the deathly grip of their father...

But instead, he was sitting in his cell once again, eyes fixed on the same spot on the wall as his lips were dry and sealed, even when the pain of the iron chains that rounded his ankles made him want to chop his limbs off. Feeling like a failure as he awaited his death. He has failed as a brother and as future King, and right now there was nothing he could do about it except listening to the thunder and the moaning of the other prisoners.

It was the dangling of the keys that caught his attention as it mixed with the sound of the heavy rain. He wondered if he was dreaming every time someone would come into the cell, hoping to wake up from the nightmare he was in, but they all made sure he lived through it. Never too much to kill him, but cruel enough to make him endure it.

“Diner,” The guard said in a monotonous tone and Ashton thought it was weird.

This guard never talked to him in a tone that held anything but pity and desperation, trying hard to win at least some kind of good reactions out of him even when the young Prince would lash out at him. Did he give up too?

Rian Dawson put the tray of food on the floor in front of the Prince. He was fidgeting with his hands, looking nervously at the door, almost as if he was afraid someone might come in at any minute, and Ashton noticed it but didn’t say a word.

“Eat!” Dawson demanded a bit too loud, but he wasn’t looking at Ashton, instead, his gaze moved nervously through the door and the tray.

Still, firm and stubborn as always, Ashton did not move or say anything, not wanting to give the guards the satisfaction of seeing him weak. But at the same time, he knew that the moment he put that piece of bread in his mouth, he might not be able to hold it after so many days without eating properly.

“Your Grace…” The guard then whispered, looking at Ash with a pleading gaze “Please…”

Ashton furrowed his brows. It was not normal for a guard or a crow to be this nervous around him anymore, and he did not trust it. After all, this was the same guard that would come every now and then to change his chains; heal the wounds just enough so that they don’t get an infection; and take him to his next torture. Why did he seem so desperate now?

“Please, I beg of you, Your Highness. Just-” He continued to whisper, but got cut short when a new set of dangling keys could be heard along the hallway “Shit”

“Dawson! What the hell are you doing?!” The Commander asked, standing right outside the Prince’s cell, and, once again, Ashton did not move a muscle to acknowledge him.

“They ordered me to get the traitor dinner, My Lord!” Rian said loudly, standing tall and ignoring Ashton altogether “But it seems like he would rather starve than be useful for once!”

His tone did not convince Ashton in the slightest since he could see through the lie. But it must’ve not been the same for the Commander who started to laugh.

“Let him starve, then!” He said “Before he dies we would have to feed him forcefully until the King says enough. Then he could rot all he wants. Come, Dawson! You are needed on the training field”

And with that, the Commander walked away, but Rian only allowed himself to breathe once the sound of the keys could not be heard over the thunder.

“Your Highness,” He said calmly as before, still keeping his eyes on the door as he started to walk out “Please, please eat. For RoseWood”

Ashton heard the cell door close again and the heavy footsteps disappear in the hallway. Then, his hazel eyes shifted to the tray that contained a piece of old bread and a cup of water. His narrowing gaze suddenly became wide open as his head snapped towards the direction of the door, waiting for any sounds besides the thunder that could indicate someone’s coming.

His heart was beating loudly inside his chest as he leaned forward, placing one hand on the dusty, musky floor, trying to see if he could support himself with his arms without making too much noise with the shackles that imprisoned him.

Slowly, Ashton started to crawl, biting on his tongue to not let out any noise as the pain of his wounded wrist shook through his whole body with every little step he made with his hands until finally, he reached the tray.

With shaky hands, the Prince of Roses opened the bread in half; eyes immediately watering as he had to prevent himself from letting out a cheerful and hopeful sob when he saw the piece of parchment hidden in the crumbs.

“Help is on the way. Let the true ruler of RoseWood be seen again - The Knights of Roses”

*

*

Y/N fell to her knees, hiding her face on a bucket as Calum held her hair place soothing movements onto her back with the palm of his hand. It was the third time today, the movement of the waves and the worry set on the pit of her stomach made everything fuzzy and revolving, making her throw up on an empty stomach.

“Love?” Calum asked, wincing as she started to cough through the tears “Y/N, it’s okay”

“It’s not okay, it’s disgusting” She cried, wiping her face with a cloth.

They were kneeling on the floor of their cabin on the Kaleidoscope, the same one they got when they were just arriving at the Crimson Islands. But what once was an exciting, frightening, and adventurous trip, has now turned mournful and dreadful as they made their way to The Vail’s coast.

Two days ago King Alex received a letter addressed to the Princess of Roses, sent by none other than King Luke Hemmings from The Vail, claiming that her brother had been captured and imprisoned by their father, who was now starting to prepare for a war to reclaim all Kingdoms to himself.

Y/N and Calum stood there in shock and tears as they read the letter over and over again, desperately wanting to make all of this just another bad dream. But the nightmare was not over, in fact, it seemed like it was just barely getting started.

King Alex gathered a small crew and together with the couple from RoseWood, wasted no time in preparing a trip to meet with the King of the Vail and his advisor, Sir Michael.

“We cannot let that madman win,” The King said “Say the word, Princess Y/N, and we’ll fight by your side. Anything you two may need, I will gladly provide. I am at your service, Your Highness”

And with that, the Princess and the Stable Lad ended up on the Kaleidoscope again with Captain Merrick; his crew; a few other soldiers; and a few volunteers. Ready to sail and get to The Vail where other rulers are gathering to decipher a plan of attack if Richard won’t back down.

But all this stress; worry; fear and sorrow was too much of a shock for Y/N and Calum even though they tried to hide it from each other. This was not a simple game of sneaking around in the woods, this was a life or death situation with Ashton’s life hanging on a thread if they don’t hurry, that is, if he’s still alive.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Calum asked once her breathing had calmed down, softly rubbing her back.

“A glass of scotch could be nice” She grumbled, getting up with Calum’s help as she sat back on the bed.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to drink?” Her husband asked carefully, sitting beside her as he held her hand.

Y/N furrowed her brows at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind the gleam in his eyes until it finally hit her.

“I’m not with child, Calum”

“How do you know?” He shrugged, placing a hand on Y/N’s stomach “You were not sick on our first trip to the Isles. And the Maester said-”

“The Maester doesn’t have a uterus,” She shook her head with a glimpse of a smile drawing in her lips “And even so, I know my body. It is not time yet, love. And, dare I say, if my father manages to win… it might never be”

Calum pressed his lips in a thin line, nodding at her words as he moved his hand from her stomach to cradle her hand once more.

“The time will come,” He smiled softly at her “Whenever you’re ready, and probably in years to come, it will be perfect. But, as of right now, my rose, I don’t think a glass of scotch is going to do you any favors”

She rolled her eyes lovingly at him, smiling as she said “How do you know? You’re not a healer”

“Nope, but I’m a guy whose friends would drink themselves to death and ended up exactly where you are right now” He chuckled, getting up from the bed and placing a soft kiss on her forehead “And I’m a husband who wants to take care of his wife, not make her sicker”

“Sometimes I hate that you’re a good husband” She pouted

“I can live with that,” He smiled, caressing her face with the back of his hand. “I’ll get you a beverage, though. I know Zach keeps some for the crew that get seasick”

“I love you,” She said through a sigh “Wish I could kiss you”

“Well…”

“Don’t even think about it, Hood. Get me the beverage and some mint leaves with lemon first”

Calum chuckled, “As you wish”

The stable lad exited the room with a faint smile that quickly disappeared when he closed the door. He hated seeing Y/N sick and he knew that the waves were just an added factor to all the turmoil she must be going through. He knows his wife; he knows she’s hiding all the pain she’s not allowing herself to feel. And he also knows that the stubbornness of his princess is strong and she would never admit it.

It’s all his fault, he thought as he walked towards the main cabin. He couldn't help but feel that he took part in sealing Ashton’s fate even though there was nothing they could’ve done at the moment. They needed to keep Y/N safe, no matter the cost. But why should Ashton pay for the crimes Calum committed by loving her? It should’ve been him the one sitting in the cell, not the only family Y/N has left; not the only family that loved her.

She’s already lost so much; her homeland, her mother, and now Ashton… She didn’t deserve any of it and Calum was more than determined to help her bring him back, no matter what it takes. They will not let Richard win.

He walked up to the deck, already making plans inside his head to let the guilt die down for a second as he concentrated on getting Y/N’s health back to normal when his pace was cut short by someone who purposely stood in front of him.

“Good morning, my Lord. Won’t you say we’re having such a splendid morning, today?”

There was something on Jack’s smile that made Calum want to punch it, something mocking yet sinister that hid something that he just couldn’t figure out.

At first, they couldn’t believe he volunteered for the trip, having just got to the Isles and finding a role in the court. He seemed too eager to go back to the Vail and help them defeat the King of RoseWood, saying it would be an honor to serve the Princess on whatever she would need. And even Y/N had to admit that was a bit off, but they needed all the help they could get.

Still, Calum did not trust him. And after he told Y/N about what happened back on the training grounds of the palace, she also started to distrust the man going by Jefferson. So his presence here brought more questions than reassurances.

“How’s the Princess doing?” Jack, also known as Sir Jefferson, asked; leaning over one of the masts with a glint in his eyes as he looked up and down Calum’s body.

Calum didn’t even try to hide his feelings towards him anymore as his hard, brown eyes stared at him with annoyance.

“My wife’s health is none of your business, Sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me”

But at the same time he took a step forward, so did Jack.

“Ouch,” He said ironically, “Thought you would be more thankful, my Lord. After all, isn’t your brother-in-law we are talking about here?”

Calum bluntly ignored him as he walked past the crow, bumping his shoulders as he did. Jack smirk, for his plan of railing up the stable lad, was working and he was also having fun with it, making it a personal challenge so for when the time comes to let all the truth come to shove, at least the fighting will be interesting. So he followed him.

“Who would’ve thought it would come to this?” He said, walking alongside Calum “A mad King, a Prince held hostage… Only, that’s all we know. Maybe things at RoseWood are more interesting”

Calum ignored him, pushing through the crowded deck to get to the Captain’s cabin. Jack’s voice became white noise as he tried to get the medicine he needed and then go back to his wife waiting for him at the other side of the ship. But then…

“Think of how this would’ve never happened if you never left. Or maybe things are finally working out for you”

Jack smirked at the way the stable lad stopped in the middle of his tracks, but quickly hid it the moment he turned around as the crow greeted him with a faux-innocent look of concern.

“Is everything alri-”

“What did you just say?”

Calum was fuming. The hair on the back of his neck rose in anger as a chill ran down his back when he heard those words. His fists were clenched to the sides, knuckles turning white from the grip as he dug his nails into his palms, reminding him to not lose his temper as they stood right at the entrance of the cabin’s hallway.

A shadow hid most of Jack’s face and Calum could swear he saw him smile for even just a second before his voice became soft as he said:

“I’m just saying that if you had stayed in RoseWood then maybe the Prince would not be in the dungeons, am I wrong for assuming that?” He said, furrowing his brows almost as if he didn’t understand why Calum could be mad about it “Royals can be tough, but you knew that before getting involved with the Princess, I assume. And then running away with her… Seemed like a poorly executed plan that started in chaos and, like most things, would probably end in chaos. Unless that’s the plan all along”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?”

Jack gasped, placing a hand over his heart as he blinked at Calum “That language, my Lord, very aggressive”

Calum grabbed the crow by the lapels of his clothing, pushing him against the wall.

“Cmon,” Calum said with his face only inches away from Jack’s “Say what you must, if you dare”

The crow let out a small, sarcastic laugh “Oh, my lord. Was I wrong to assume how this could benefit you? Don’t you think is a little suspicious? Father gets mad, you marry the daughter and then suddenly the prince disappears… Who gets the throne once it’s all said and done? Now that’s a story worth telling, don’t you think?”

Calum’s eyes filled with rage as he banged Jack’s head against the wooden walls, knowing that people might be watching. But he could not let go of that offense as if it was nothing. How could he think that he could do that to Ash? To Y/N?!

“You don’t know shit of what happened,” He said through gritted teeth “You don’t know what we went through, what she went through. You don’t know our story so don’t pretend like you do and start assuming on other people’s lives”

“Calm down, my friend,” Jack said, trying to defuse the tension. “Maybe I’m mistaken but I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking already”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, too? What does Y/N say about it?”

“What are you talking about?!” Calum demanded in hushed tones, gripping tightly onto Jack’s lapels and making him hit his head on the wooden wall behind him again, but the crow didn’t even flinch as a glimmer set in his eyes, sending chills down Calum’s spine.

“Oh, may the gods bless your foolish heart, Calum” The crow sympathized. “I knew Y/N would be too kind to let you borrow some of her burdens, but for you to be so clueless… Must be a blessing to walk around like that”

“Like what?” Calum was getting impatient.

“Like you didn’t cause all of this”

“My Lords? Is everything alright?” Captain Merrick’s voice came from the end of the hallway as he walked up to them.

Calum let go of Jack in an instant, too shocked by his words to say anything else as he looked at him with wide eyes and an expression that hid too many fears inside of it.

Jack, on the other hand, just smiled at the Captain “Everything’s fine, Captain. We were just having a friendly conversation, isn’t that right, Cal?” He patted Calum on the shoulder and walked away without saying anything else.

“My Lord?”

“I-I’m fine, Captain,” Calum said, blinking a couple of times to clear his thoughts “My- uh, My wife is feeling a little bit seasick, I was wondering if you could help me get her something to ease her stomach”

Zach smiled “Of course, my Lord! Come, I have exactly what she needs in my cabin”

Calum nodded, “Oh, and Zach?”

“Yes?”

“If you can,” He said, looking toward where the crow just disappeared “Don’t let that man go near our cabin nor near Y/N if I’m not there to stop him”

*

An echo passed through her ears as she stood in the empty hallway. How she got there, she didn’t know; but it all seemed so familiar, almost like a dream. Only she didn’t know if it was a nightmare.

The clanking of the chains could be faintly heard from miles away as the hallway seemed to have no end, blending into the darkness.

Y/N took in her surroundings, looking from left to right and finding not a soul that could tell her what was going on. The humidity of the walls started to cling to her skin, making it seem like her gown was becoming heavier and heavier the more time she spent standing on the cobblestoned floor.

Then, a small, faint light came from one of the rooms hidden in the hallway. A candlelight gleam illuminated her path of darkness as she felt compelled to it, feeling the need to follow it. So she did.

The closer she got to the light the more real things started to become. Y/N was starting to feel as if this was not a dream anymore, a memory perhaps? She could feel the warmth of the light gracing her cheeks with every step she could, and, if she paid enough attention, even the sound of laughter would brush her ears.

The laughs were heavy, grave and she guessed it must come from a group of men. They were laughing at something, yet she couldn’t see what just yet nor she could hear anything besides the laugh and a faint sound of a whip, thinking that maybe they were just messing with the horse’s equipment as the drunk guards used to do back at RoseWood; Calum always hated that but they were always nice enough to pay back whatever they might’ve broken.

Could she be back at the stables? Was her mind playing with a forgotten memory?

Still, the crackling of the whip grew louder and louder as well as the laughs that couldn’t hide it anymore. But that's all it was. A whip and laughter, nothing else. So why did her heart beat faster as she approached the slightly ajar door?

From the small crack, she witnessed a group of men dressed in black, a red rose embroidered in their chests as they carried the RoseWood symbol with pride. They were drunkenly laughing at something -or rather someone - that Y/N couldn’t see just yet. She examined the men’s faces and couldn’t recognize them as his father’s guards, they weren’t the guards from the woods nor any that you’ve met before.

Yet, they seemed to be having the time of their lives as one of them grabbed the leathered whip from the other’s hand, laughing as he swung it over his head until it crashed with a surface while the others started to count.

Trying to get a better view - or at least an idea of what was happening - Y/N pushed the door open just a crack, hoping none of the men realized as the wooden door squeaked against the cobblestone, luckily they were still entertained with what was happening at the other corner.

The first thing the Princess noticed once she got a clearer view was the blood. So much blood scattered around the room in little splashes, pooling down in the middle. She felt her whole body tremble, feeling sick just looking at it, remembering the last time she saw so much red when Calum was captured.

Still, she couldn’t look away. It was almost as if her eyes were glued to the gruesome scene, following a trail until it landed on a target.

Her eyes widened and filled with tears; a scream threatened to escape her throat as she covered her mouth with both her hands to silence it. Her knees started to buckle and she felt as if she could throw up all over again, completely horrified at what was in front of her.

With a manacle on each wrist, each hanging from opposite wooden pillars and keeping his arms open wide, unable to sit or to let his body fall from the physical trauma, stood Ashton with his back completely open and bloody.

In front of him stood a small, dirty mirror where Y/N could see how he could barely keep his eyes open anymore; biting on his lip with each crack of the whip, making him lean forward and letting the manacles cut his wrist when he did so. Still, he didn’t say a word as the guards kept counting and Y/N didn’t want to know how many rounds they got before she got there.

Ashton’s hair fell in front of his face, stuck in sweat and blood to his forehead as his face changed with every hit of pain, only adding to his anger.

“C’mon, lads!” One of the guards laughed “Gotta be a lot proper with the royals now, don’t we? Start the count again, and this time do it more… gently”

The guard stood up and handed his friend another leathered whip, the only difference was that this one held spikes at the end, making sure to cut through the skin at just a simple touch.

Y/N watched in horror at how her brother’s back arched as he bit down his tongue, barely even opening his eyes to glance at the small mirror hanging in front of him, and she could swear that just for a moment, his eyes met hers before receiving another blow.

Unable to stand it any longer, Y/N barged into the room, making all of the men stop what they were doing as they stared down at her with eyes filled with fear as the man threw the whip on the floor.

Without wasting a breath, she ran to Ashton’s side and stood in front of him, trying to wipe some of the blood out of his face. But before she could say anything, she noticed how her brother’s eyes changed and were now filled with rage directed at her.

“You did this,” He said through gritted teeth, spitting blood at Y/N’s cheek.

Shocked and scared, Y/N looked around the room and found it empty.

“What?” She asked out loud, looking over at Ashton who also disappeared in thin air.

Her breathing became elaborated as she searched the room, trying to find any evidence that someone was there. Yet, when she turned around all she could find was the mirror and a different set of eyes looking straight at her.

For in that moment, her reflection wasn’t hers; it was her father, looking back with a proud smirk at the monster she thought she was.

*

The sudden shake of the ship made her jolt awake, taking in her surroundings with wide-open eyes as she tried to remember the dream she just had.

Her mother used to say that dreams are made of people’s greatest desires and fears; they could come from a memory or a premonition of the future and should never be taken lightly, for a dream was just as important as a thought. Dreams are the thoughts we don’t dare to say out loud.

A chill ran down her spine as her father‘s eyes were engraved in her memory; so cruel, so proud… Was she like him in a way when she ran away, leaving the ones she loved behind? Taking the easy way out, would he have done the same?

The simple thought of that made her blood run cold. She was not cruel; she was not a monster. She did what she needed to do to survive and make sure that Calum was safe. She made the only choice she could make but, would everyone understand that? Or would they just see her as her father’s daughter?

The sheets shifted slightly as Y/N’s eyes finally landed on Calum, the only comfort she had. She ran a hand delicately through his shaved curls, thanking the gods that they allowed him to sleep peacefully at least for one night and that she didn’t wake him up with her nightmare. He’s been so restless lately, she just wished to share some of his grief with him. She already put him through a lot, he deserved some peace of mind and she wants nothing more than to be able to provide that for him; let them be just themselves like they were in the woods, away from all fears and terrors and villains… just two kids playing around with fairytales and horse rides, so in love and with nothing to fear.

After a while, it became obvious that Y/N couldn’t go back to sleep so easily. With a sigh, she got off the bed, kissed Calum’s temple as he started to lightly snore, and wrapped herself with her robe as she exited the cabin; looking for a distraction in the middle of the star-filled sea.

Y/N closed her eyes when the cold night breeze graced her face, making her hair fly as she walked barefoot through the deck. All members of the crew and the volunteers were sound asleep.

She got closer to the board, looking straight ahead at the vast sea as her fingers grip the wood of the rails. They were still a few days away from getting to The Vail and once they get there, they have to start their strategies, plan the trips, know how many people to take, embark on the journey… who know how long it’ll be till they reach RoseWood again, but they were determined to do so. She knows Luke and Michael won’t let her down and they’ll do everything they can to get Ashton back and her father out of the throne; she knows she could trust them.

“Can’t sleep, Your Highness?”

Y/N jumped at the sound of a voice coming from the shadows of the quarterdeck, placing a hand over her heart as she watched Sir Jefferson emerge from the dark corner, smiling kindly at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Princess” He apologized, raising his hands in defense.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about it before talking from the shadows” Y/N sighed, looking back at the sea “We never know if the person hiding there is a friend or a foe, Sir Jefferson”

“And where would you place me, Your Highness?” He asked, taking a step closer to her “Friend or foe?”

“Am I talking to the same man that hurt my husband in training? Then, I’m not sure”

“It was a friendly match,” Jack said, leaning over the board and placing his elbows on the wooden planks as he looked at the sea as well.

“A match is still a match. You were lucky it wasn’t a duel” Y/N rolled her eyes “Either way, I don’t particularly understand the need men have for violence. For practice and self-defense, I get it. But to draw blood from innocent people… Seems barbaric”

“It’s in our system,” He shrugged. “Men search for violence even when they claim peace. We all know our nature and how far we can go, trying to push it beyond those limits until we reach the glory at the end. Even the most compassionate of men could tell you about the temptations of power and blood, maybe by doing things they know it’s wrong just to have a little taste of what it feels like”

Y/N’s mind couldn’t help to wander over to Ashton again, on how he played a part in scattering crows around the kingdoms in order to favor their father. He said he didn’t know why, but he still went ahead and did it; and even though she believed him, she also wonders if he ever at least had a slight idea of what he was doing.

“And once a man gets a taste….” Jack continued, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched Y/N’s clouded eyes “It becomes part of him”

“That’s awful”

“But it’s true. We cannot escape who we are, no matter how much we try to run away from it. If it’s in our blood, then it’s fate’s design to follow it”

The crow noticed how, suddenly, Y/N’s eyes started to water as she hugged herself even tighter. And for a moment, just a slight moment as the moonlight graced her face, he felt pity for her.

“The sea is quiet tonight,” He said, changing the topic to spare the little Princess, at least for tonight.

“I don’t suppose it makes much noise anyway” She answered, quickly brushing away a stray tear that escaped her eye “It’s just water”

“Careful with your words, Princess” Jack smirked “Or they might hear”

“Who?”

“The mermaids”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows “That’s a fairytale, Sir Jefferson”

“Only to those who refused to believe in them,” He said “My mother used to tell me these stories, about pirates and adventures, but her favorites were always about the women who hide in the deep ends of the ocean. The mermaids are the protectors of the seas. Some legends say that mermaids are women who’ve been thrown out of their ships as a sacrifice to the gods; others, that the creatures were created by the gods themselves as a punishment for those who wander without the purest of hearts. They seek vengeance and justice, luring people of all around the world with their voices and deceiving them as they make them fall in love with fake promises and lust, sinking them into the sea with them. And, once they’ve realized they can’t breathe anymore, that’s when they show their true form. It’s a lesson, I suppose”

“Of what?”

“Never trust the beauty unless you can see the soul behind the eyes,” Jack said seriously, looking at Y/N “There are horrible people out there, Princess, hiding in their pretty clothes and all their riches, thinking they know it all just because they have it all. But no one is sinless, they know what they did”

The wind blew strangely, whistling through the sails as Y/N took in his words. No one is pure of sins, but could they ever repent them? She wrapped herself tighter in her robe, watching the crow’s back attentively as his eyes wandered over to the water, humming to himself an old siren’s song.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold”

His voice was deep and rough as he sunk into a memory, thinking about his mother and all that was taken from him for people like the King; they always have it all yet they don’t care about their people, going on about their lives celebrating meaningless accomplishments as their people die on the streets. If he could get some of that power; if he could make them pay… And he will, by the gods he will.

Jack became no one of many names throughout his life, fighting to be the best in everything he does so when the moment comes, everyone will scream out his name in glory and gore.

“It’s getting late, Princess,” He said after a while, turning his head toward her “You should go back to bed”

Y/N’s lips parted as she stared at him; his eyes held something deeper than just a memory, they were cold and somewhat cruel as he looked at her, but only for a second as his signature smile was back on his face in the blink of an eye, making her wonder if she’d just imagined the familiarity of that glare.

“We still have a long way to The Vail, and around this time of year their days tend to be longer, so there won’t be much resting once we get there” He smiled.

Y/N nodded “You seem to know a lot about The Vail, Sir Jefferson. Have you ever been there before?”

Jack nodded with a sigh as he pointed to the scar on his left eye “Fearless warriors, they say. I have to admit they were right”

“They are a peaceful Kingdom and have been for decades” The Princess questioned him “Their King is one of the kindest souls I know, and to my knowledge, they only use violence for training and nothing more since the wars are over. I still don’t understand how you managed to get that scar on a Kingdom with people like that”

“Well, appearances can be deceiving, Your Highness. You just never know who to trust” Jack said gravely, gracing his eyes to the floor before looking up at her again “But that might be a story for another day, you should get some sleep”

“I don’t think I can, really,” Said the Princess “But that shouldn’t keep you up, my Lord. I’ll be fine”

Truth was, Y/N was still pretty shaken from her nightmare and the words from Sir Jefferson, feeling a sense of warning running through her mind. For some reason, she didn’t feel safe and was relieved when Jack seemed to understand and nod.

“Perhaps I have something that could help you, Princess,” He said, reaching into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulling out a folded handkerchief “I always carry some with me, just in case”

Jack opened the small piece of fabric revealing a couple of dry leaves on it.

“It helps you sleep,” He said with a smile “You just have to put them in water, cold or hot, and drink it after ten minutes. Works like a charm, or at least that’s what my mother used to say and I never found any fails to that logic”

Y/N smiled kindly, taking a couple of leaves in her hands as she looked at them, furrowing her brows just slightly.

“Are you certain this would help?”

“Extremely”

She nodded, “Thank you, Bernard”

He smiled at her one last time before she turned around and hurried to her cabin once again, speeding up the pace once she was out of sight from the decks, opening up the heavy wooden door and locking it instantly as her breathing became heavy and beams of sweat started to cover her face.

With heavy hands, she went to the small desk in the room, sitting in the chair and lighting up the candle; wasting no time in grabbing a leaf and burning it.

From the moment she saw them she knew what they were, she remembers seeing them in one of the Maester’s lessons.

“This is called La Torture De Méduse, an ancient poisonous leaf that causes a complete body paralysis, starting from the legs, then the torso and the arms, and lastly, the brain and the rest of the organs. All without the victim knowing since it makes the poor soul who ingested it fall into a deep slumber as their bodies die slowly. One can literally become stone, hence the name of this vile creation of the gods. Luckily, it is easy to identify if you notice the little green dots on the petiole and midrib. Do not ever go near them and if you do…”

Destroy them.

And that’s exactly what Y/N was doing as she watched the second leaf burn into ashes. Her mind was running a thousand kilometers per hour, trying to find an excuse for Sir Jefferson who so kindly and so naively, gave the leaves to her. He said that it helped him sleep, but these could not be the same leaves he talked about. If he ever drank the beverage created with them, then he should be dead already.

Unless he knew exactly what he did by giving her the leaves, expecting to receive the news of her untimely death the next morning when Calum finds her cold next to him. But why would he do that to her? They barely know one another and she has done nothing to wrong him. Nothing made any sense...

“Rose?” Calum’s voice alerted Y/N as she pulled the leaf away from the fire, letting it fall with the remaining others onto the desk “What are you doing, my love?”

She hesitated to answer. She couldn’t lie to him, but at the same time, she didn’t want to accuse an innocent until she got further proof of his wrongdoings, afraid she’ll become like her father.

If she tells Calum about the leaves and what they do, he will kill Jack with no hesitation and he’ll be sent to trial again, only this time he might serve time for real or worse: he’d be sentenced for murder. The law does not care if it was in self-defense, as far as the court will know, Jack never intended to hurt the Princess and it might’ve been just an honest mistake. And Y/N was not ready to lose Calum again.

“I couldn’t sleep,” She tells him a half-truth, leaving what happened with Jack aside “Thought I could use some air and then I came back here”

Calum rolled to his side, watching her with sad, understanding eyes “I know how difficult this must be for you, my rose. And I wish I could take some of that pain away from your eyes and hide it somewhere where you’ll never see or feel it again in your life. But all I can offer you is the promise that I’ll be here through it all with you, my love, we’ll be home soon”

“You’re my home, Cal,” She said “You’ve always been my home”

“Then come back to bed and let me hold you,” He said softly “Let us fight these nights together and share our mornings hand in hand. You’re not alone in this, my rose”

“And neither are you”

He beckoned her with his head and she smiled softly at him, turning around to blow out the candle and hide the remaining leaves on the pocket of her stash without him noticing it, promising herself to get to the bottom of it soon.

Calum wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her close, kissing her forehead as she laid on his chest with her head tucked under his chin.

“You’re the strongest person I know, Y/N” He whispered against her hair as his fingers drew figures on her back.

“Only because I have you with me,” She answered, kissing the side of his neck “I love you, Cal. Please, never leave me”

“Not in this life or the next, my love” He replied, drifting to sleep again with her chest pressed against his “Not in this life or the next”

Still, with Calum fast asleep next to her, Y/N could not phantom getting back to her dreams as she watched the moon disappear into the sea through their small porthole, hoping that the sirens would hear her pray and lure her to sleep in the midst of a dreamless sea.

*

*

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @conversecake @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @fakebetch9694 @5sos-imagine @SunflowerAngel2123 @perfectnouis @in-superbloom @lukeisstillapenguin @sadcupofcoffee @superstarmarvel @personalmuyverypersonal @cnco.angels @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @lolzkye @weasleytwinscumslut @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimepogue @wontlastimokwiththat t @ttinahood @lukespitinmymouth @perfectnouis @cncoangelss @darrensos @whywontyoulovemecami @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @floweronyourskin @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou @bittersweetb4by @aria-grace-scott @thestarsandtheircoffee @bvbygxrl @luisa180206 @xxxlaura @iamdayanaz

[onceuponadisembo]

Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: 王室教師ハイネ | Oushitsu Kyoushi Haine | The Royal Tutor (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Viktor von Granzreich & Heine Wittgenstein, Viktor von Granzreich/Heine Wittgenstein Characters: Viktor von Granzreich, Heine Wittgenstein Additional Tags: Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Bad Humor, Happy Ending, Excessive Hand-Holding, anime movie canon, Staying Up Too Late, viktor just wants to spend more time teasing heine for his height, unamused heine, heine's anime past, a little bit shippy, Queerplatonic Relationships

Summary: 

Viktor invites Heine to his study for wine, makes as many bad jokes as he can, and then asks to dance with him. Set after the ball that happens at the end of the anime movie.

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

I'm only up to Volume 9 of the manga right now and I don't know Heine's past, so although the manga will have some influence on some parts of the story, this fic is set in the canon of the anime, and will include references to Heine's and Viktor's past based on what was shown in the anime.

I'm also putting together a (very short, somewhat shippy) playlist for this fic so if you're into that sort of thing, here it is.

FFN link.

Read the first part under the cut

In the king's study, the bottle of Niedergranzreich white wine glittered in the lamplight.

There had been drinks at the ball. The usual wine and beer, which Heine had politely declined, but there was also something from Romano – a honeyed concoction with sharp-smelling spices and an even sharper burn as it slipped down his throat. When Viktor proposed a toast with the king of Romano, Heine had found himself with a glass in hand. He was then handed another at more than a few points in the evening – and at least one of them by Viktor himself. Heine did not quite remember how many cries of Prost! to the two kingdoms there had been, and now he sat, still in his evening suit, at his usual spot by the desk, swirling yet another glass with Viktor and feeling the wine more than usual.

It was already getting late.

He was not worried; tomorrow was his rest day. But there are no breaks for a king – although this one did not seem to notice the time at all. Heine had been surprised when Viktor invited him here tonight, thinking that perhaps the king wanted a report so soon after the princes' assignment had been completed. He had been equally surprised when he saw the bottle.

"More wine?" he chided. "Are you sure?"

Viktor was already pouring the first glass. "You can always have something else if you won't join me," he had said, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "I'll send for it. Milk would be much more… age appropriate. Or what do you think?"

Heine harrumphed and took a glass.

It seemed that they were here for no reason at all. Tomorrow – or the day after – they would talk about how the princes had done, and what that could mean for the future of the Granzreich and Romano kingdoms. And although they were no longer young, nor as free with their time as they had been way back then, Heine did not mind indulging the king. Viktor may request the strangest things, but it was never without sound reason. There is always a first time for everything, though, because Heine was now starting to suspect that Viktor, too, had had more than a few at the ball.

-:-

"Eins dropped by, you know," said Viktor not long after they had clinked their glasses. "After the song."

"Oh?" said Heine, pausing as he lifted his glass. "I did not see him."

Chin in hand, Viktor hummed a sigh. "He didn't stay long. You know how children are when they grow up."

They sat in silence for a while. They had both grown up a long time ago, and far too quickly. There was still so much more to be done.

Viktor drained his glass and straightened up with a toss of his head, as if the silence were a blanket he was trying to shrug from his shoulders. "Well!" he chirped, refilling his glass. "I am glad that my sons are growing so well under your care. Shall I…?" He gestured the bottle towards Heine.

The tutor glanced into his glass. "Thank you, but I am barely halfway through."

"Take your time." Viktor settled back in his chair. "Speaking of my sons, I am already in talks with King Romano to arrange a visit to his kingdom. It is my hope that we can continue to strengthen our relationship as allies."

"And mine as well," murmured Heine. It could not be easy, as a young prince of Romano, to shoulder the high expectations of one's position while growing into one's own person. He thought of Prince Ivan, the eldest twin, who could never do enough in his father's eyes as well as his own; and of Prince Eugene, overlooked in favour of his brother and who, like his brother, expressed a disdain for "forever benchwarmer princes" at the start of their visit. The fact that the younger prince had done so even though, if all were to go according to plan, he himself would not be expected to ascend the throne, could explain why Prince Eugene had not seemed to see the point in trying for anything. The Granzreich princes could prove to be a good influence on the Romanos, if only they could spend some more time together.

A chuckle from Viktor interrupted Heine's thoughts. "What is funny?" he asked the king, his sombre musings quickly dissipating.

"I was just wondering if you also taught the princes to dance at the ball."

"Goodness, no."

"Ah. I thought so. Teaching them to sing would have been enough of a handful."

"Yes, but I cannot tell you how much I came to wish that I had blocked out a few hours, at least, to revise the basics together with them. I did not anticipate how insistent they would be." Heine took a fortifying drink from his glass. "Do you know how terrifying it is to be led around the floor by partners who do not quite know what they are doing? I was even lifted once. I was in the air."

Viktor chuckled even more. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I did love seeing all of you getting along so well."

"You were watching us?"

"I was watching you."

What a strange way of putting it. Heine was not sure he had heard Viktor correctly. Perhaps he should ask him repeat that, to check that he had not misheard him.

He sipped some more wine and held out his glass. "Could you top me up, please?"

-:-

"There's something I want to show you," said Viktor as he led Heine over to the lounge area. On the low table sat a strange shape, which Heine thought he recognised when Viktor removed the sheet that lay over it.

"My word," murmured Heine, venturing closer to inspect the instrument and the brassy sheen of its parts. "Is this… a phonograph?"

"Do you like it?" smiled Viktor, barely containing his delight. "It was a gift. Go on, give it a try."

"What does it play?"

"Wind it up and see for yourself."

Soon the hazy melody of a waltz undulated about the room and Heine watched Viktor hum along, fingers dancing in time to the music.

"What a tremendous invention," said Heine when the song neared its end. "It seems as if I were right in front of the orchestra."

"Yes, and listen to this." Viktor stopped the machine and switched out the cylinder. When it started up again, it sang out in a long, yearning trill.

Heine put down his wine. "This song!"

"Yes?" said Viktor, a twinkle in his eye.

The melody was haunting and the libretto solemn – far too serious to have been fully-appreciated the first time Heine had heard it. Perched next to Viktor, in oversized borrowed clothes, Heine had been certain they would be spotted among the crowded back seats. Once the show was over and he could finally relax, they spent the evening falling over each other as they butchered the most dramatic of the songs, missing the high notes and substituting their own lyrics.

"Why Viktor, had I not known any better, I would have thought that you had impeccable taste."

Viktor laughed – the same laugh from the alleyway behind the Wienner state opera house nearly thirty years ago.

-:-

Back at the desk, they talked of important things.

The latest in the national opera:

"No, don't tell me. I haven't seen it yet."

The moral discrepancies in classic childhood fables:

"I can't explain that to you, Viktor, I did not write it."

Whether or not it was possible to brew wine from carrots and bell peppers:

"I find it highly worrisome that a child would know so much about winemaking."

The bottle of wine slowly emptied out.

-:-

"And another thing," said Viktor who, at some point in the night, had ended up sprawled out next to Heine. They were down to the last few glasses, and Heine was propping himself up against the cushioned arm of the settee, trying hard to maintain a slight semblance of propriety.

"Why are we always drinking this?" Viktor squinted at his glass of wine, holding it up to the light. "It's the same wine every time ever since God knows when, always wine white- I mean white wine- from Niedergrr- Niederglan-zish."

Heine nearly slipped off the arm. Goodness gracious. Where was this coming from?

"But isn't it… isn't this your favourite?" he faltered, his head foggy. "You don't like it?"

Viktor made a sound that resembled both a hiccough and a splutter. Or perhaps it was a laugh. Heine could not tell at this point. "I do like it, but people get tired of favourites, Herr Professor. Even Lich… Leonhard. Would hesitate at the idea of eating sacher torte for every meal.

"I wouldn't be so sure," muttered Heine. Then, struggling with the plush upholstery, he pulled himself into a slightly less crooked sitting position. "But Viktor, you are being unfair. You were the one who brought this wine. And it was supposed to be my turn."

"Oh, don't worry about that. It's a special occasion."

"You must let me bring the next one." Heine racked his brains for all the good wines he had ever tried or heard of, but the memories seemed to have left him for the moment. "We could try… red wine?"

"Hmm?" Viktor tilted his head.

"From… Obergranzreich?"

"Interesting proposal," said Viktor, "considering their viticulture is not what it used to be."

"Hintergranzreich, then."

Viktor snorted. "You are making things up."

"And you were making a fuss over something that could have been so easily resolved," retorted Heine. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? If I had known, I would have looked around town and found something new, or checked with the chefs for recommendations – anything, if only you had asked."

Viktor leaned back to look at the tutor and smiled fondly. "That's just like you. I know I can always rely on you. You're a good friend, Heine."

Heine took a sip from his glass. "Though you tend to ask for the most reckless things," he said.

That was when Viktor asked him to dance.

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

It's been almost exactly one year since I first watched The Royal Tutor, and I'm super excited to get this out. I already have the rest of this written out, but because it’s such a pain to upload fics to Tumblr, I’ll be uploading the rest of the chapters to AO3, and I’ll be putting just the link on Tumblr. I really want to make sure I check each chapter thoroughly, so I might take a few days to upload the next one. In the meantime - comments are appreciated and I'll love you forever.

[melzula]

Life Changing Field Trip

*part of the Fire Lililes series

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

warnings: heavy angst, lots of tears, fluff, 3.6k words in length so it’s a doozy

notes: it’s finally here! I’ve had so much fun writing this piece and I hope you enjoy

summary: “You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”

“You can’t just show up like that, give me a location, and then not tell me why or where I’m going,” you grumble to the moon as you load your bags onto Appa’s saddle. You’re not sure how long you’ll be gone or how far you’ll be traveling, but’s it better to be prepared.

Your bending had dwindled ever since Zuko’s arrival, and no amount of training or meditation ever seemed to help you get back on track. Zuko was a part of your team now, and you hadn’t forgiven him yet, not by a long shot, but you had been good about keeping your rage and your fury locked away inside of you. Scaring Zuko off and creating unnecessary tension wouldn’t help Aang with his fire bending, and so you kept to yourself and avoided the boy at all costs. When he entered a room you exited, if he tried to start a conversation you gifted him your silence as a response, and when he tried to apologize or chase after you you’d freeze his feet to the floor. It was simple and effective and, unlike your water bending, it worked.

But Zuko wasn’t the only obstacle in your life, and you knew you had to figure out your bending issue soon before the comet arrived. Your struggle must have been great enough to draw attention from the spiritual realm, because sure enough that night you were visited by the Moon Spirit in your sleep.

Even in your dream-like state your first instinct upon seeing her was to fetch Sokka, but she made it clear that she didn’t have much time. She gave you a location and stressed the urgency of your arrival to the coordinates. She gave no real explanation and no real direction, just some weird proverb like piece of advice that you were too tired and too dense to understand.

“You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”

You weren’t sure what exactly Princess Yue meant by that or how it would help you, and for a fleeting moment you wished Iroh were there to help you understand; all you really knew was that there was no time to waste. Whatever this location was and whatever importance it held, you were going, and nothing was going to stop you.

“What are you doing?”

Okay, maybe someone was going to stop you.

“It’s none of your business,” you retort harshly, glaring at Zuko who stands before you with bead head and drowsiness present upon his features. “Go back to sleep.”

“Y/n, come on,” Zuko begs earnestly. “You really expect me to just go back to bed when you’re about to sneak off with Appa in the middle of the night?”

“Yes, I do. Now go,” you scowl whilst settling yourself in the saddle and taking hold of the reigns. Your gaze is fixed straight ahead, but you make no move to go. It’s almost as if something is holding you back from leaving Zuko behind, anchoring you to him in a way that makes you nervous.

“Let me come with you.”

“I have to do this by myself. You wouldn’t understand, you never have,” you argue.

“Then let me try to,” Zuko pleads. “Princess, you’re the only one who hasn’t forgiven me yet. Neither of us can be happy until we at least try to fix it.”

A tense silence washes over the two of you as you mull over Zuko’s words. Princess Yue’s voice echoes in the back of your mind: You cannot bend something that is broken. Your resistance to mend your broken bond only seemed to make things worse for the both of you. You couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t bend, you couldn’t feel at peace with yourself knowing that each day you pushed him away only led to more heartache. Your stubbornness and your pride kept you from accepting his apologies, but your heart cried out to you every time you found yourself missing him, and that was often.

It seemed your decision was made up for you before you were even able to decide it yourself.

“Fine. But I’m in charge, and just because I’m letting you come doesn’t mean we’re friends now,” you answer sternly, your tough exterior crumbling slightly at the sight of Zuko’s hopeful smile. Curse him and his stupid charm.

“Thank you,” he breathes in relief before climbing onto Appa’s back and settling down amongst the many bags of food you packed. A gentle utterance of the words yip yip and you’re off into the skies, truly alone with Zuko for the first time since Ba Sing Se before everything fell apart.

The stars twinkle brilliantly as they watch over your little group in the sky, the night breeze gently flowing through your loose locks and sending your sweet scent straight to Zuko’s senses. Despite being Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, you always smelled of fire lilies. You were sweet and warm and familiar, and being close enough to smell the scent of lilies reminded the prince of your nights together in Ba Sing Se. He had been a fool to throw it all away.

“So where are we going?” He asks finally to break the silence. Without turning to face him you toss your map over your shoulder for him to see. ”The Earth Kingdom? This spot isn’t even marked on a regular map. Why?”

“The Moon Spirit came to me in a dream and gave me those coordinates so that’s where I’m going.”

“The Moon Spirit? Wasn’t she a Princess?” Zuko asks, recalling the story Sokka had told him on their way to the Boiling Rock.

“Of the Northern Water Tribe,” you nod, and before you can stop yourself an admission tumbles past your lips. “You know, I almost left you during the Siege of the North.”

“What?”

“I was homesick and lonely, and you were always occupied with hunting the Avatar. When I saw what the Princess did to save her people I soon felt guilty too. Yue sacrificed her own life, her own happiness, to help her people, and what did I do? I ran away with the boy who was trying to destroy the world’s only hope for peace among Nations. But my love for you overcame my guilt, and so I stayed.”

“Wow...” Zuko murmurs in astonishment. “I didn’t know...”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know,” you grumble, immediately closing yourself off again. Zuko sighs sinking further into the saddle, and the scent of fire lilies consumes him.

After three tense hours of flying Appa begins to tire, and you’re left with no choice but to stop for the night and rest. There’s probably only four hours of darkness remaining until sunrise, so you’ll be able to get a decent amount of sleep before you have to resume your travels. You say nothing to Zuko as you roll out your sleeping bag and immediately tuck yourself in for the night. However, due to the cool and frigid air, you find that you’re much to cold to be comfortable, and so you toss and turn for a good ten minutes.

“Cold?” Zuko asks gently.

“No, I just like to shiver in my sleeping bag for fun,” you retort sarcastically, and Zuko rolls his eyes. A small huff of air falls past your lips and it takes you a minute to muster up the will to apologize. “Sorry,” you grumble. “I’m very cold and tired.”

“Would you like me to help?” He offers carefully. A beat passes before he hears the sound of you shuffling around and pulling back the covers of your sleeping bag.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you point out firmly, and the Prince bites back a smile as he crawls in beside you. Already you can feel the warmth that radiates off of his body, and you can’t stop the little sigh of contentment that escapes you when Zuko wraps his arms around your trembling figure and brings you into his chest.

“Better?”

“Much,” you hum softly, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you try to soak up as much heat as you can.

You hate to admit it, but you really missed being in Zuko’s embrace. He was warm and safe, and it reminded you of the times before when you had still been together. During the first few weeks of your separation you had struggled to fall asleep, not used to being on your own and definitely not used to the absence of warmth that often slept beside you. Sometimes you’d wonder if Zuko also lied awake at night seeking your comfort, but your anger was quick to remind you that he was the one who had left you in the first place. It was Zuko who made you second priority to the Avatar, and it was Zuko who chose to turn against you in Ba Sing Se. Shivers tingle down your spine, and this time it isn’t the cold that has you trembling. He betrayed you once, and he could betray you again.

Zuko falls fast asleep with you in his embrace, but you find that you can’t sleep at all.

~~~

The snowfall is light outside as you anxiously sit through your healing class, constantly glancing towards the doorway in hopes of spotting a Fire Nation ship. The Fire Lord was due for another visit today, and that meant you’d get to spend the day with Prince Zuko.

“Princess, pay attention,” the healer chides, and you sheepishly turn your gaze back to the old woman before you.

“Water is a powerful tool for benders, used to hurt and to heal,” she explains. “Water benders fight to protect themselves and those around them. Soldiers with this gift learn how to use their power to defend our home. But these same soldiers cannot use the bending they would use in a fight to heal a wound.“

The little girls around her watch in awe as the water in her palms glows a gentle hue. She smiles, gracefully swirling the water through the air.

“A rough hand will only bring more pain and heartache. But a gentle hand? A gentle hand can mend even the deepest of wounds. As healers you must remember this: You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”

You wake slowly, eyes gradually adjusting to the sunlight that shines against your fatigued face. The ground underneath you has been replaced by the leather of Appa’s saddle, and you find yourself warmly wrapped in Zuko’s cloak. The boy in question is seated at the reigns, navigating his way through the clouds and towards the abandoned colony.

“Zuko?” You yawn, catching the prince’s attention. He smiles faintly at the sight of you sleepily wrapping his cloak tighter around your form.

“Good morning,” he says. “I didn’t want to wake you but I know how important it is that we get to the Earth Kingdom as soon as possible. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I... I guess I don’t,” you mumble as you rub the sleep from your eyes before digging into your bag for some breakfast.

“We should be there in about an hour.”

You only nod, looking down at the peach in your hand contemplatively. What awaits you at the abandoned colony? Will it help you regain your bending? Will you like what you find?

The journey goes by quickly when you’re lost in your thoughts, and before you even realize it Appa has landed on the ground and Zuko is helping you off the saddle.

“Good boy, Appa,” you murmur affectionately, gently combing your fingers through his fur as you feed him an entire bag of fruit. “You can stay here for now.”

Leaving the flying bison behind Zuko and yourself walk the rest of the way, finally stumbling upon the exact location the Moon Spirit had given you: a cave entrance.

“Spirits, not another cave,” you groan, and from beside you Zuko blushes in uncomfortable embarrassment. With a heavy sigh you grab Zuko’s wrist and give it a shake until he gets the message, a small flame igniting in the palm of his hand. Holding onto his arm as if he’s your personal torch, you begin your descent through the cave. This better be good.

Unlike your secret tunnel, there’s nothing seemingly special about this cave. It’s dark and dirty not romantic whatsoever, which you figure is good because this isn’t a romantic trip anyway. You’re here per Princess Yue’s instructions only and nothing else, and if Zuko doesn’t like it you have no problem freezing his feet to the floor for what will probably be the thousandth time.

“What do you think you’ll find?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m hoping that whatever it is, it‘ll help my bending,” you murmur thoughtfully.

“Maybe we’ll find another secret tunnel,” Zuko jokes with a quiet laugh that immediately fizzles out at your unamused glare. “Sorry.”

“I doubt that stupid tunnel is even there anymore,” you grumble.

“It is... I checked,” the boy murmurs thoughtfully, causing you to halt in your tracks.

“What?”

“When I returned home from Ba Sing Se I went to Elza’s end of the tunnel and found it still intact. I knew there was no way you’d be there, but I traveled to our meeting point and stayed there,” he confesses quietly, eyes soft and apologetic as they turn to face you. You shift uncomfortably under his gaze and look forward, continuing your pace through the tunnel. “I’m really sorry for how much I’ve hurt you, y/n.”

“Why did you do it?” You question. Your voice is weak and frail and your eyes glisten with tears, and Zuko doesn’t think his heart can hurt any more than it does now. “After everything we’d been through and everything we’d accomplished together, why would you betray me like that? I loved you Zuko.”

“I-“

“And then to betray Iroh? Your own flesh and blood?”

“I know it was wrong, and I wish I could take everything back. I never stopped thinking about you y/n. Even when I was with Mai, all I could see was your face in the cave looking at me with disappointment and-“

“Wait a minute, who’s Mai?” You retort, pulling away from the fire bender to look up at him with furrowed brows. Zuko’s face flushes and immediate regret fills him at having mentioned the girl.

“I umm.. After we broke up, I kind of started seeing someone else,” he admits sheepishly whilst nervously grasping at the back of his neck. The sight of your complete rage and fury makes him wish he was being swallowed whole by an unagi instead of having to face an angry Princess.

“I can’t believe you!” You cry in outrage. “I spent weeks crying over you and you just moved on to another girl like nothing!”

“She didn’t mean anything, I promise-“

“I don’t want to hear it, get away from me!” You demand, picking up your pace to try and get away from him as quickly as you can, but Zuko is hot on your heels.

“Princess, please!” You try to freeze his feet to the floor and let out a frustrated growl as your bending fails you yet again. “Just let me explain!”

“No! I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen!” You command, angrily jabbing a finger at his chest. “I left my people, my family, for you. When you pushed me aside on your hunt for the Avatar, I stayed even though I was unhappy. I stood by you despite all the mean and cruel things you did because I knew deep in my heart that you were still the same Prince I fell in love with. And when we got to Ba Sing Se I thought we could finally have the life we had planned together. Working in your uncle’s tea shop, taking walks through the upper ring at night, being able to enjoy myself without having to worry about what terrible thing you’d do next made me the happiest I’d ever been.”

“And then you threw it all away. For what? Honor? Approval from the man who abused you? Using my bending against you was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my entire life, yet you seemed to have no problem with fighting me the minute Azula asked you to. I knew then that you weren’t Zuko, not the Zuko I fell in love with.”

Tears steadily stream down both of your faces, your throat is raw and sore from yelling but you don’t care. You’re angry, you’re upset, you’re hurt, and you’re afraid of the emotions festering inside of you. But you also feel good, like a weight is slowly being lifted off of you.

“And then to hear you moved on to someone else so quick as if I meant nothing to you?!”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko offers weakly.

“You betrayed me, you broke my trust, you broke my heart, but no matter how hard I try I can’t bring myself to hate you because I love you Zuko! Despite it all I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone, and when I think about where we came from and where we are now I-I just...”

You burst into a fit of tears and welcome Zuko’s comforting arms that wrap around your figure and squeeze you so tightly to his chest. Your shoulders shake with each sob that falls past your lips, your hands clutch tightly at the fabric of his robes, and you bury your face into his chest to muffle your sobs. The boy says nothing for a long time, only holding you and soothing you to the best of his abilities as you let out all of your hurt, anger, and sorrow.

“I’m sorry I never realized how special you were and how much I truly needed you. Nothing I say can ever undo the hurt I’ve caused you, but I’ll do anything to show you just how much you mean to me. I love you y/n, you’re my other half. Uncle always said our love was a balance of yin and yang, and he was right.” You watch through your tears as Zuko takes both of your hands in his own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Please, Princess.”

You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you gaze up at Zuko’a pleading gaze. The tricky proverb comes to mind again, only this time it isn’t as tricky. Ever since Zuko joined the Gaang you’d done everything in your power to keep him away to protect yourself, but it only made your heartbreak worse. Defensive maneuvers wouldn’t ease your pain, but offensive would. You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt. The water bender in you wanted to push him out, but the healer inside of you knew that this moment in the cave was exactly what you needed to finally feel okay again.

Without responding, you simply lean up and press your lips against Zuko’s in a loving kiss. His hands come to rest upon your tear stained cheeks as he bring you closer, kissing you so desperately it’s almost as if he’ll die if he doesn’t have his lips upon yours. The tunnel around you begins to glow, but you don’t realize this until after you’ve pulled away from each other. A tearful smile graces your lips and Zuko finds himself swooping in for another quick kiss.

“I know why the Moon Spirit sent us here,” you sniffle. “I know where we are now.”

“You do?”

“When I was younger my mother would threaten to send me to the cave of truths whenever I told a lie. It was a magical cave said to not only pull out the most personal truths of anyone who set foot inside but also grant them a lesson in exchange for their truth. My truth was my love for you, Zuko, and I learned that shutting you out is never going to fix things. Only by letting you in again, by allowing you the chance to redeem yourself, will we be able to fix our broken hearts.”

With a gentle smile, you pull the droplets of water from the air that surrounds you and swirl them gently in the palm of your hand until they freeze into snowflakes. Zuko watches in awe as the snow takes the shape of a butterfly, its wings flapping elegantly as it lands on the tip of his nose.

“My bending is back.” Zuko smiles.

“And so are you.”

~~~

The Gaang is waiting for you when you return, astonished at the sight of your intertwined hands and happy smiles on your features.

“What happened to you two?” Suki asks.

“Life changing field trip,” you reply with a simple shrug, smiling as Zuko wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Aw man, you guys are giving me the oogies,” Sokka groans only for Katara to elbow his side.

“What changed?” Aang asks, prompting you and Zuko to exchange glances.

“Our relationship has a really good track record with secret tunnels,” you giggle.

“We’re both ready to start over,” Zuko says. “It’s going to take some time for things to be normal again, but we’ll get there.”

“I’m really happy for you guys,” Katara smiles gently.

“Yeah, I was getting kind of sick of the two of you moping around,” Toph grins, and you can’t help but return the smile.

You’ve got a long journey of healing ahead of you, but with Zuko finally back by your side you know you can accomplish anything.

| tags: @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @multi-fandomstan @eridanuswave @royahllty @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @kittenthekat1234567890 @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @coldlilheart @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 |

[il0veyoujk]

New house, new roomies

Final Chap.

This is a tickle related series, so if you are not interested in that type of content, I’d suggest ya to find another ff to read, thank you :)

Mini series based on a request from an anon and one  of my ff Self-Esteem (I think you should better read it firstly so you can understand more what’s going on)

Summary: Nefeli (14) has just moved in with the boys and Jimin, but she is still not comfortable around them, so each one spends a day with her in order to get her to open up and to know each other more.

Warnings: None

Notes: None

This is a tickle related ff, if you are not interested in it, please keep scrolling

Lots of love Nef 💕

“But I am your favorite, right?”

“I don’t know Yoongi! I love you all”

“Yeah but you must have a favorite one”

“Nahhh”

The boys and Nef were sitting in the living room, chilling on their phones and chitchatting. All the rest of the week was really fun for all of them and they had all enjoyed it really much.

However, unlucky her, Tae decided to say that he is her favorite and now they are all interrogating her and are trying to get her to admit who’s her favorite.

“It’s me right? You just don’t want to admit it” Jungkook threw his arm around Nefeli’s shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

“Nah, of course, it’s me. Remember how much fun we had when we were dancing Nef?” Hoseok smiled innocently at her, not to mention the tickle torture the girl had been into that day. Which of course made her roll her eyes playfully and stick her tongue out at him.

“Yeah, you wish. I am her favorite and we can all see that. Look who she is leaning on!” Taehyung pointed at her leaning more onto him as soon as Jungkook let her go.

“I bet it’s me. Everyone loves me! I am adorable after all” Jin did his famous flying kiss motion to Nefeli, only getting some giggles in response.

“Jin... You are almost 30... I am 14... You are not adorable for me...” Nefeli rolled her eyes again, grabbing her phone and opening TikTok to scroll through it.

The oldest lad put his hand on his heart and fell on the armchair next to Yoongi’s, gasping overdramatically “I have been betrayed by the youngest one...” while everyone else laughed at him and Yoongi threw a pillow at him. “Hey!”

“Stop being a drama queen!” Yoongi made himself comfortable on the other side of the couch, next to Jungkook as he leaned back.

“Guys, let the poor little one alone” Namjoon scolded the boys, not taking his eyes from the book he was reading in front of him.

"Thank you Namjoon” Nefeli smiled, still scrolling down her phone.

“We all know I am her favorite. I helped her overcome her fear of mathematics” he raised his vision and winked before he returned to his book, leaving a grinning Nefeli in front of him.

Oh, she remembers that lesson pretty well...

“Now now guys, why do you keep trying? Of course, it’s me! I know her ever since she was born, and we have been living together almost her whole life!” Jimin exclaimed, smirking widely as everyone groaned in frustration, along with Nefeli.

“Guys, please! I don’t have a favorite one! Can we please change the topic?” Nefeli groaned and shook her head, covering her ears as soon as a chorus of ‘no’s echoed the whole house.

“Come on girl! Tell us!” Tae poked her side, earning a squeal from her.

A squeal that brought a smirk to everyone’s face.

“Well... Y’know we have our ways to get ya to admit something...” Yoongi’s voice came out teasingly, as he pointed a single finger at Nefeli, making her flinch and giggle.

She knew what was coming and yet she chose to ignore it. She wasn’t gonna give them the satisfaction they wanted anytime soon with just a poke. Plus, as everyone knows, Nef is known for being stubborn... “I don’t have anything to admit!”

The boys shared a knowing look, while wide smirks were forming on their faces as a knot formed in Nefeli’s stomach. Those smirks would be the death of her one day...

“Are you sure...?” Jungkook started wiggling his fingers next to her, wiggling his eyebrows too in a mischievous way.

Nefeli felt a blush rising inside her and giggled being stuck in her throat as he watched Jungkook’s fingers coming closer to her and everyone’s smirks growing wider.

In a flash of light, the young girl had thrown away her phone and had jumped like a rabbit off the couch, running for her life away from him, while some giggles were escaping her.

“Get her!” Hoseok yelled, running behind the giggly girl, the rest of the boys following close behind.

Soon, the whole house was filled with loud snickering, and choruses of ‘come here’ or ‘you cannot escape’ were echoing in every room. Their footsteps were annoying everyone in their block of flats and their giggles were loud enough to brighten someone’s day.

Nef was running all around the house, dodging the boys’ hands and walking on pillows or jumping on couches to avoid them. As we can all understand she wasn’t running as fast as she could, due to the giggles which were running out of her mouth like a waterfall. Which of course only led to one thing. Almost getting caught way too many times. But almost.

However, when the girl was turning a corner, she understood that she was circled by all of them in her own room.

“Nowhere to go, little one?” Yoongi grinned widely, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. Yoongi was the only one who could look so mischievous even by only staring at someone and make them have butterflies. And oh he was giving Nef serious pretty intense ones...

Before she could even respond tho, two arms were tightly wrapped around her waist, carrying her to her bed. Nefeli squealed loudly out of surprise while she was squirming around in the air, trying to escape, but whoever’s grip was too strong for her.

“What’s happening? Why are you giggling so much Nef? We haven’t even touched you yet!” the boy whispered in her neck, making her giggle loudly and feel shivers down her spine. Namjoon.

The young lad laid her on her bed and pinned her arms above her head with no difficulty at all and sat on them fastly, smirking widely down at her. Jin and Jungkook spread Nef’s legs and put each of her feet on their laps, while Yoongi sat on her hips. Hoseok and Jimin sat next to each side of hers, and Taehyung in between her spread legs, all seven of them smirking from ear to ear mischievously.

“Uhuhuhum” Nefeli couldn’t hold in her giggles, while she was trying to pull her arms down, curling and uncurling her toes. She was feeling her feet already tingling and shivers were running down her spine as the light breeze which was coming from the slightly open window above her head was brushing her exposed spots “Ihihis it a bad tihihihime to choose one?”

The boys exchanged knowing looks, as their smirks grew wider “There is no comeback, princess. It’s gonna happen” Taehyung wiggled his fingers, making her blush and giggle louder.

“Yeah, too late for apologizes!” Jungkook ghosted his fingers above her sole, grinning in amusements as Nefeli’s giggles turned hysterical without even being touched. Jungkook’s fingers were sending a wave of tingles all over Nef’s torso, while she was giggling her heart off, grinning from ear to ear.

“Aw, he is barely touching you and you are already giggling! What happens if we really tickle you?” Hoseok poked her side, earning a loud squeal and more snickering from the young girl, knowing he had hit a pretty sensitive spot of hers.

“I guess it’s time to find out, don’t you think, angel?” Namjoon was tracing his fingers from her elbows to the middle of her armpits, while he was grinning wider than before. Never slower, never faster. Only with the needed speed to make her giggle and melt on the mattress, driving her crazy.

“P-Pleahahahase nahahahahao!” Nefeli giggled out, trying to shot her arms down, but she could obviously do nothing. She was only able to lay there and take it.

“Please not what?” Jin and Yoongi asked at the same time, wearing the same mischievous smirk.

“Tihihihickles!” she yelled in between her giggles, immediately regretting it as soon as 70 devilish fingers attacked her torso with merciless tickling.

“As you wish!” all boys cheered before they dived in and started tickling the poor girl with no mercy at all.

“BWAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAO!” Nefeli shrieked in surprise and fell in loud belly laughter, kicking her legs and thrashing around as much as she could. However, having alive restrain is not the best thing that can happen to you when you are being tickled, right?

“Aw, you are so ticklish you cannot even stand 2 secs of tickling! Adoooorable!” Hoseok squealed in delight while his fingers kept squeezing her side. His thumb and index finger had made his hand look like he was a crab, and its feeling was setting Nef’s nerves on fire.

“I AHAHAHAHAM NAHAHAHAOT AHAHAHA!” the young girl cried in between her laughter, not really thinking about it before doing it. And of course, forgetting what had happened this whole week... Or that Jimin had been living with her almost his whole life and knew completely well the truth.

Which he obviously took advantage of to tease her.

“Really? Because I remember otherwise!” Jimin held on her arm before he scribbled in between her ribs.

Nefeli screamed in laughter as she was trying to roll away. Only for her to push herself more onto Hoseok who just kept squeezing her faster and faster. At that point wherever she would move her torso, it was useless. She would get it from every corner.

“Y’know I feel like you wore that crop top on purpose...” Yoongi raised her shirt high enough to only expose her tummy, sides, and ribs and not something else, before he started spidering all over her belly and another side.

Nef’s loud snickering was filling the whole room and probably the whole place from how much it tickled at this point “NAHAHAHAO I DIDN’T AHAHAHA! PLEAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHO AHAHAHA!” she cried in between her laughter, probably annoying all their neighbors.

“Now now, no reason to be so loud, Nef. We are not killing you!” said Tae who was currently wiggling his fingers behind her knees, a spot no one was supposed to know. How he found out about is still a mystery. But oh well. He is still making the poor girl scream in laughter and kicks her knees up and down nonstop.

Have we ever mentioned how bad teasing affects Nef? Because it really does! Every time someone is teasing her, it feels like tiny bugs are running up and down her sides and like her head will explode from how much she is blushing.

“I’LL GET Y’AHAHAHAHAHALL BAHAHAHACK AHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli was laughing so hard that it was doubtful she had ever laughed so hard before. It tickled so much that she thought she would lose her mind!

“You are in no position to make any threats, little one!” Jungkook, who was spidering her barefoot, suddenly pulled her toes back and started scribbling furiously, yet softly her poor, hypersensitive sole, while his bunny smirk was shown.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t say that with the position you’re in either...” Jin on the other hand was playing with her toes like piano, occasionally scratching their base “You remember how this song was going? Na-na-na-na-naaaa” Jin was playing with her toes, teasing her in a sing-song voice and trying to hit a higher octave by each ‘na’.

Nef let out an ear-piercing shriek while she was thrashing around furiously as soon as Jin touched her toes. She immediately felt like a wave of ticklish electricity had hit her body “NAHAHAHAHAO PLEAHAHAHAHASE I’M SAHAHAHAHAHAORRY AHAHAHAHA!”

All the boys let out cute chuckles and kept going with their assaults. Namjoon was wiggling his fingers on her armpits and occasionally blowing in her neck, making the young girl melt but at the same time explode in loud laughter. Hoseok and Jimin had each one took each side of her rib case and one side, poking and scribbling them fastly. Yoongi was shaking all his five fingertips in the middle of her tummy while his other hand was mercilessly squeezing her hypersensitive waist. On the other hand, Tae had chosen to lightly wiggle his fingers behind her knees, making Nef go crazy. Who knew soft tickles can be so bad for her? And for the big finish, Jungkook and Jin were torturing her poor, hypersensitive feet, sending her in fits of pure hysterics.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHA OH MY GAHAHAHAHAOD AHAHAHAHAHA! PLEAHAHAHAHASE AHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli’s loud screams were probably annoying everyone in the block of flats while the smirks were tattooed on the boys’ faces.

“Oh my god, those ribs look so tasty, lemme try them! Nomnomnom!” Jimin out of nowhere started nibbling her, thanks to Yoongi, exposed ribs. And Nef was immediately thrown in serious hysterics.

“Oh oh oh oh, lemme try them too!” Hoseok exclaimed and copied Jimin’s action, making the poor girl shriek in hysterical laughter.

“NONONOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHAHAHASE AHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHO AHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli was thrashing around so much that she almost set herself free at least three times. However, every time Namjoon would manage to pin her down once again.

“It’s so cute how you haven’t said stop this whole time!” Jin giggled along with her before he bent down and kiss all over her sole. Nefeli at this point was feeling like she was gonna lose her mind. It tickled so much!

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHA JIAHAHAHAHAHAN PLEAHAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHAHAO AHAHAHAHA! YOU AHAHAHAHARE MEAHAHAHAHAN AHAHAHAHA!” she cried in between her hysterics, curling her toes tightly and arching her back. What did she get in response? A loud chuckle from Jin and more yet faster kisses.

“Oh no that’s not mean. Y’know what’s mean? This!” Yoongi quickly put his hands under her waist, raising her more so that her tummy was fully exposed. Then out of nowhere, he dived in and kept blowing long, unstoppable raspberries on her tummy, occasionally shaking his head in it to make the feeling way worse.

“YOONGAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli was trying to shot her back down on the mattress again, but Yoongi’s hands were preventing her from. And as if the berries weren’t already enough, Yoongi was softly digging in her lower back, a truly sensitive spot of hers.

“Aw, coochie coochie coo, angel!” Taehyung giggled while he kept softly stroking behind her knees with his fingertips. This made every hair on her body straight while sending a truly ticklish shiver down Nef’s spine.

“I can do this all day!” Jungkook kept scribbling all over her sole and toes, not really showing mercy.

“PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHAHAT THAHAHAHAT AHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli screamed, shaking her head side to side while Namjoon was blowing raspberries in her neck and scratching her bare armpits.

“Aw Neffie you are so ticklish!” Namjoon whispered in her neck, making tingles run all over her torso.

At this point, Nef’s body was feeling like it was on fire. Her stomach and lungs were burning while her mouth was aching. She was losing her mind slowly while she had fallen into silent laughter. Her whole face was red while she was shaking and her messy hair was even messier.

“Aw okay okay let’s give her a break” Jimin said, knowing the position Nefeli currently was in pretty well.

Immediately everyone pulled aside and let her breathe. Nef instantly curled up, panting while some leftover giggles were leaving her. Taehyung pulled her and cuddled her closely, rubbing her lower back to help her calm down.

“Are you alright, sweets?” Hoseok asked her sweetly, stroking her cheekbones. Nefeli nodded lightly and snuggled closer to Tae.

“So, who’s your favorite?” Jungkook was staring at her with big eyes, waiting for her answer. His cute eyes had gone wide while his lips had formed in an adorable, physical pout, waiting for an answer.

The young girl took a glance at the whole room and smiled widely “I love everyone equally and I mean that” she admitted, making everyone smile widely. Hoseok and Jin even blew her a kiss, making her giggle.

Every boy had made her feel special this week. They had made her feel like she was home. Taught her how to love herself. Taught her how to be herself and not to be ashamed of who she is. And she had made her feel like she was special for them.

Jimin would always have a special place in her heart. And maybe she loved him a little more than everyone else, everyone was special for her.

A comfortable silence filled the room, while everyone was comfortable on the bed, or on the floor, not doing anything at all.

“Sooo who’s ready for round 2?” Yoongi smirked widely, every boy copying his expression.

In a matter of a second Nefeli had speeded out of the room, with everyone hot on her heels, trying to avoid their fingers.

And lemme tell you their days from now on were filled with those moments. Funny and cute ones. Memorable moments and adorable experiences. Filled with affection and giggles. Both from the boys towards Nef and Nef towards the boys.

They were like a family.

[juminly]

Moonlight (Arthur Conan Doyle x Reader)

Summary: On a night where you thought Arthur was simply sweeping you off your feet as he always did, he wanted to do much more than that. He had so much to be thankful for. All of those reasons were... you. Word Count: 2.1 K. (This was supposed to be a drabble...) Tags: Pre-relationship fluff, Mutual Pining, Canon Divergent (in a way?), Not Beta Read. –♥–  You thought it was just one of those times when one of the residents, one of which was Arthur, would try to occupy your time somehow, distracting you from the fact that you were away from home, far from the reality that you knew, grew up in and loved. It didn’t bother you that much, especially since you were in good company yet getting used to different customs, being surrounded by people who didn’t even speak a language you understood wasn’t really the easiest. After breakfast was over, Arthur was one of the first to leave, creeping up slowly to stand behind your chair at the dining table and slipping a small note in your hand as he leaned down to whisper something in your ear, low and sweet: “Don’t be late, pretty dove. I’ll be waiting for you.” You were not one to be easily swayed with sweet words and flirtations, very much able to throw some back and exude the same playfulness back at whoever it is that was trying to woo you yet when it came to the mystery writer, the heat that crept up your cheek was involuntary, accompanied by the smile that he always managed to draw on those lips of yours. Hearing his voice and the smile in it was plenty to have you filled with happiness and the prospect of spending more time with him, alone, was so much better. Reading the note while you were on the way to your room, you grinned at his cheeky message, inviting you to a day out with him where he can flaunt you before all of the skirts in Paris and show them how beautiful your wings were, the prettiest dove he has ever laid eyes upon. Shaking your head at this, knowing that it was just some prelude to what he really wanted to say. Reaching a small note at the end, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you gazed at the intricately written words on the piece of paper, a dreamy sigh escaping you as you wondered how such a wonderful man is often disregarded and even scorned by those who surround him. You had absolutely no idea what he was up to and you didn’t even care. “I would love for you to accompany me to an occasion that I cannot bring myself to attend on my own. Lend me your hand for the evening, love and I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Also, tonight will be quite chilly so do make sure to bring a shawl with you, unless you would rather be warmed in my arms. A much more agreeable option, if I may say so.”

As he had instructed, you were a pretty dress that Sebastian had gotten you, one of many that he populated your wardrobe with, to make sure that you didn't feel completely out of place, having to always wear the same clothes or go to town, every single damn time you felt like you wanted to wear something different. You absolutely added your own touches to it, making it a bit more modern, a little more you which always earned you a wide knowing smile from Arthur, especially now that you were all dressed up to go out with him... Wishful thinking as it was, he told himself that you were all dolled up for him, your lips painted in a bloody shade of crimson that made him wish that he could sink his fangs in your neck and kiss you, so he could share the sweet taste of you, a wonder that you could both enjoy together. Before his daydreams could fly even further away from any sort of reality that could never happen, he took your hand and kissed the back of your hand, leading you out of the grand door of the mansion and into the cities of Paris, just a little before sunset. The skies were a beautiful shade of pink, a colour that tinted both of your faces while you both laughed together at whatever ridiculous story Arthur had recounted to you, the man never failing to find any sort of avenue to entertain you. Just hearing that boyishness resonate from him, the way his eyes crinkled and his lips spread widely and freely across his handsome face, letting go of any sort of restraint that he might have to uphold some sort of image or composure before you. This was just him. The Arthur that you got was the real Arthur and it was the little things that you noticed, the things that were just slightly different when he was with you that made you want to be even closer to him. Literally speaking, Arthur had wound his arm around you, keeping your side flush against his while you walked to wherever your destination was, the simple gesture was left unquestioned since you had caught the reason why he did so. Man thought he was so smooth but you did see how many of the men passing by were looking at you, especially that it was getting darker, the crowd that you would find lurking around were much different and you would know, especially after your many trips to the bar with Arthur and Theo. But now that you were much closer, the rich smell that wafted from Arthur was even stronger, intoxicating as you always found it, making your mind swirl as you inhaled it and sighed happily as discretely as you could. On another end, the mystery writer was doing the same, a satisfied smile playing on the corner of his pink lips, the small beauty mark by his lips appeared to be a bit higher, lifting even more as you both turned to look into each other's eyes at the same moment, a round of shy chuckles ensuing as your story-filled stroll had finally come to an end. Entering through a door to some establishment that you've never been to before, slowly the sound of a crowd filled your ears as you found yourself in a room filled with people. Groups talking animatedly and excitedly in French, you obviously having absolutely no idea what they were talking about but one thing you couldn't miss, they were all holding a book in their hands. Throwing a curious glance in Arthur's direction, his leathered fingers gave yours a tight squeeze. Whether it was a conscious or unconscious gesture, the man had no clue as he gave you a wistful smile, a heavy sigh escaping his lips when he finally leaned down, inching closer to you so you could hear him better. Sweet man, he thought he needed to do that when the moment he parted his lips and his sweet voice came from them, every other sound in the damn world was blocked and he was the only thing you could hear. "Remember when you had to tear me away from writing a few days ago, forcing me to rest as I couldn't bring myself to do so. Well, love, this is the result of your kindness to me. It was exactly what I needed yet, something I never bring myself to ask for." He lifted a leathered index, circling it around, a gesture ushering you to gaze around you, take in your surroundings before you brought your eyes back to him, his tone oozing with gratitude and an atypical solemness that he only exuded when he was serious and speaking from the heart. "I've known about these gatherings even since I began writing again. The moment one of my writings is published, these people flock together to celebrate it, for a reason that I could never comprehend." With a sheepish yet derisive chuckle, Arthur turned his eyes down and at your linked hands, squeezing them tighter, expecting an onslaught that he had become accustomed to, when you began reprimanding him for not valuing or showing any love to his work. The warmth that painted his cheeks and filled his chest was not what he was expecting as you pulled on his hand so your lips could press gently over that mark of his that you really loved, while you went on the tip of your toes to grace him with the soft touch of your crimson lips. "Thank you for choosing me to be with you today." You murmured softly before resting back down on your heels, basking in his soft gaze, his expression tender and heartfelt. He was one step closer to his journey of self-acceptance and you were happy that he even considered keeping you close, not even knowing that he borrowed strength from you. Strength that he needed to turn his back on his past and look forward. Even if it was just a baby step, you were going to cut him some slack and refrain from giving him a piece of your mind. Just seeing him radiate ease, the comfort of a man that had just found light at the end of a dreary and dark tunnel. Shaking his head lightly, he brought your linked hands up to his lips and kissed your hand once again before placing them right over your heart "I would never fathom anyone other than yourself accompanying me on a day like this, my lovely dove." You sighed at the softness of his voice, if only he knew that you really wanted to be 'his' dove and you still had yet to know that he felt the same. Pressing a soft kiss upon your knuckles, a grin stretched on his handsome face, an unmistakable playful glint in his eyes as he simply said "Let's go" and pulled you through the crowds and out of the building you were in. As usual, the man was unpredictable and you never knew what he was up to. When you stood your ground, furrowing your eyes at him and asking him why you even left that small party, he clicked his tongue as you told him that he should enjoy being 'the man of the hour'. That was the last thing that he really wanted. Because he was now truly where he wanted to be and if you were going to fight him on it, then he would have to do it the hard way. Swiftly leaning down, he threw you over his shoulders as he strutted the streets, the resounding click of his oxfords on the pavement joined by the sound of your useless cries. If there was anything that was true, Arthur was able to match you when it came to stubbornness. When you began to kick your legs, whining for him to let you down, you yelped as he tapped your bottom, a sudden cheeky (literally too) gesture and chuckled in response to your mock offended tone. "I thought you were a gentleman!" Feeling him shrug under you, he replied in between his laughter."A small correction, love. I am a playful gentleman." You've finally found your true rival when it came to that but he was the best opponent that you could ever wish for. Finally halting in a quiet corner by La Seine river, Arthur finally let you down on soft grass and comfortably sat by your side, his head falling on your shoulder while his hand sought yours once again, his thumb brushing softly on your skin as he cut through the silence before you could ask, knowing what was on your mind. "As selfish as it may be, I wanted to be the one you watch the full moon with during your time here, love." Lifting his head so he could kiss your temple, turning his body so he could lay his back on the ground, with his head nestled on your thighs. This was a sight that he prayed that he would never lose, seeing you smile down at him with your fingers threaded through his soft unruly waves, eventually lulling his eyes shut as the slumber that he tried to chase away caught up to him. Blinded by his own love for you, he couldn't see the yearning in your eyes as you watched the man you were irrevocably in love with, melt under your touch. Unable to help yourself, you brushed your lips against his forehead, happy to see Arthur at peace, his breathing growing steady as he slowly fell asleep with a smile on his face. You had no idea that he was awake all along, trying to give himself a reason to keep you all to himself before he had to escort you back to the mansion, in the late hours of the night. Still... While you both bathed in the moonlight, your love began to simmer, the glowing embers burning brighter as time went by. –♥–  A/N: I know the some elements in this fic might not be as per what’s in the game but this is how I believe Arthur’s character development would slowly but surely happen.  Tagging: @nafeary @kisara-16 @delicateikemenmemes @theweebrises​ if anyone wants to be tagged or untagged, let me know <3  Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist !

[anniestoney]

Analysis of Sonic the Hedgehog:  "Sonic cannot show emotions e.g. crying."

I feel like people literally took the meaning of this. I find that people have misinterpret the meaning behind this mandate. But I will give my understandings on what this really means.

 After a year of being a Sonic fan, I've notice that the blue blur is quite reserve in terms of deep emotions. Characters, such as Sonic, who are boys at heart, are usually known as characters that are the most lively and rarely shows deeper emotions beyond it. But it does not mean he is detached from any other emotions other than joy. In games, it is hard to try to tell this in action since in good storytelling, it needs more time (& consistency). So, lets try to see this through the animated series, Sonic X. To make it more clear, I'll based it in the Japanese version due to the fact that Sonic's OG creators at that time played a part in the anime. Let’s start.

Do you remember that one time he cried?

In this scenario, we see his tears but not his reaction. This tells me that for Sonic Team, Sonic's rawest emotions comes every once in a blue moon. He has emotions, he has the capability to cry, but how it is done right is the challenge. 

Do you also remember these scenes?

(Note: Pay more focus on Sonic's action, its deceivingly subtle that people often miss it) 

The 1st scene is shown of Sonic wearing the now fixed bracelet Amy made for him. Notice how there is a new set of shells along the fact the OG string is not replaced but extended with another one. This tells me of Sonic's dedication and appreciation. It tells me how Sonic expresses himself more in action but here is the catch. No one knows of what he did, the trouble he did to find the new shells for the bracelet. This tells me of how private Sonic expresses himself. He seems to be the type to hide himself when in his most vulnerable. His reason? It is unknown, there are many possible reasons. 

The 2nd one is a famous scene, the light lavender rose & his secret words. In this scene, we see Amy asking Sonic to tell her (if) he loves her (in a romantic way). His responds? A rose for her with his voice muted. This implies to me that when telling something very intimate, Sonic shows it not through words but by small (yet huge deal) gestures. The fact that it is muted to the audiences further indicates that any words he says that carry deep meanings, he is very private about it. His most deepest thoughts and feelings are shadowed to the point nobody, not even us, his fans, can know. 

Now lets get back to these two pictures.

Notice how many people are with Sonic in these scenes. Only one. When it comes to showing emotions to a specific person, Sonic will only show it to that person. His emotions are not absent rather he chooses the right time to show it or who he'll show it (w/ch is unpredictable). 

There are possible reasons for his lack of expressing himself in an emotional aspect. It could be to not have anyone worry about him or possibly going out of control (these feelings include anger & sadness). When in anger, things like this happens.

It could also be due to show the people hope and courage. As a hero that has inspired many by your smile and optimism, it can be very crucial (tho Sonic has a strong support of friends, this can be explored if given the time to tell the story).  Another reason could be the unsureness on what to do. As Sonic always find ways to do what he does best, we have never ever see Sonic handle an emotional crisis. This being an example.

As Tails cries for the loss of Cosmo, we see Sonic standing doing nothing. Some might see this cruel for Sonic to not comfort his little brother. But I came to think, that maybe just maybe, he just didn't know what to do. I mean, what could he really say to Tails at this moment who just loss someone dear to him? (tho anything can be helpful but it would still be painful for anyone who goes through what Tails did).

Another possibility (w/ch many will disagree) is the infamous rumor of Sonic the Hedgehog being shy. Yes, shy. The word has many synonyms and one of them is the word reserved. Its no secret that Sonic is not a master in the emotional department so his shyness is an option. As an intellectual property (IP) that is owned by a very reserved country, Japan, its no coincidence that the friendly and open blue blur might have been given this trait. 

What can I conclude?

Well, I have just begun my journey in the franchise but I think I've grasp the basics yet I've many to learn about Sonic the Hedgehog and its future. To what I can conclude, Sonic is a reserved person when it comes to emotions, a trait that is hard to be seen when not paid close attention. A trait that, Sonic Team, envision as part of Sonic. 

Now the real question is, why won't SEGA let Sonic show more emotions other than being happy go lucky?

There are possible reasons. But I'm going to give (imo) the reasons why. One, it could be due to how challenging it is to portray this because, lets be real, Sonic story writing, when not monitored, can be very bloody when not executed well. Another could be the fact to avoid any unwanted out-of-character (OOC) occurrence, remember, Sonic is definitely a reserved person in emotions thus any extreme gestures or declaration is already OOC for the hedgehog.

So, how can Sonic show emotions e.g. crying without being too OOC?

That is a challenge that a writer must figure out, from what we see in Sonic X, with the guide of Sonic Team, Sonic crying, can be done when there are no prying eyes or not showing the audience the obvious. An example of this scenario would be a person standing in the rain, his tears, not clear due to the pouring rain. His back turned and his face not clear. This does not limit only to crying, it can also apply to any emotions or actions. The challenge is to do it without altering the character’s existing core traits.

Sonic does have emotions, its how it must be displayed with the knowledge that he, Sonic, is a private person when it comes to his emotions. Thanks.