#saving symphony hall

[fredficaccount]

Saving Symphony Hall, by @helloamhere

Larry fic

And its prequel

Explicit, 125k words, completed 2018-01-27

I've just reread this fic, three years after the first time. And yes, yes, it's still just as good, if not better. In any case, I still love it as much as ever.

I clearly have something with stories where characters repair themselves, with something on the order of resilience and being stronger afterwards.

There's all that in Symphony Hall.

But also superb, funny, moving, endearing characters, a symphony orchestra to save, and healthy, beautiful relationships.

Masterpiece.

[helloamhere]

Hi!! I just finished Night Out and I am now giddily - hands rubbing together, big smile, giddily - reading Saving Symphony Hall. Where is this story set?

I first thought London, then NY, then Chicago, now San Francisco. You’d just written about Louis walking around in the fog - which is “Londony,” but you implied it wasn’t London.

Am I right? Is it San Francisco? 😁 Oh shoot, the SF Symphony Hall is not old. It’s newer with windows and steel.

Help a hopeful SF Bay Area girl, please? Where are they?

lol lol lol lol I am so sorry to do this to you but I did it to everyone!!

Saving Symphony Hall is not set in one city but in many cities in some kind of fantasy smorgasbord joke inside of my mind!! But ABSOLUTELY I thought about San Francisco, as a fellow one-time-resident of that place! It's a dislocated composite city, home to a dislocated Louis who is trying to compose his life (symphony joke, sorry)! Here's a post I wrote about it when I first published that fic

I'm so glad you're enjoying it.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hazbin Hotel Headcanons (NSFW)

Them knocking on your door frantically/incessantly; only for you to answer the door soaked and wrapped in nothing but a towel because you were in the shower TW: AFAB Reader, 18+ MDNI, Some implied forceful sex

Adam

You had just exited the shower, only a thin towel separating you from the outside world, steam still sticking to the mirror in your bathroom.

You hear the loud ass voice before you hear the knocking. Rolling your eyes, you figured a few extra minutes for the princess Adam to wait wouldn't kill him.

How wrong you were. As you stood in your flimsy towel, bent over, looking for some clothes to change into, you least expected him to open your door and walk right in.

Jumping, you stood up straight and tried to cover yourself from his roaming eyes as beads of water still cascaded down your body, not to mention he had a complete view of your pussy not even minutes ago.

"Damn bitch, bend over again; I will show you how nice that pussy of yours would feel filled to the brim."

You tried to save face and roll your eyes, scolding him for entering your room; however, you knew the slick between your folds was no longer just from the shower water.

As Adam hummed and approached you closer, you saw the predatory look in his eyes, and soon, you were caged between him and the wall.

His hot breath was on the crook of your neck when he spoke again, this time in a deep, sultry, breathy tone. "I said bend over and let me show you how good it feels to be filled to the brim."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and with a quick nod, you could feel the smile against your neck as he led you to your bed and threw you face down.

His slender fingers gathered the slick between your folds and rubbed your sensitive bud that had only grown more prominent the longer he admired your towel-clad body.

His other hand made quick work to discard said towel and raise his robes high enough that his cock was free to pummel you.

As soon as you were ready for his cock he was balls deep inside of you with no warning. Your screams and moans music to his ears a symphony only for him to enjoy.

He enjoyed pulling on your wet hair and holding your body close to his as he rocked into you, whispering how good and slutty you were to let your God fuck your tight cunt.

As you neared your end, he was kind enough to abuse your clit till your legs were shaking, and your high was so intense you were fucked dumb.

When he finished, he pulled out and came all down your ass and enjoyed the sight taking your towel to wipe you down and smile at you. As you laid there fucked out, he laughed and left to continue on with his day.

Alastor

You were wrapped in a big fluffy towel as you scurried down the hall to return to your room. Angel had stolen your favorite shower steamer, and you wanted it back for your luxury shower.

However, you were unaware that some shadows had been watching the scene unfold, with your small frame barely hidden behind the fluffy red fabric.

As you returned to your room to strip and jump in the hot water, a hand found its way out of the shadows and gripped your neck tightly.

"My doe, what makes you think it is acceptable to walk out of your room dressed like that? Who could have seen you? What would people think? Are you really such a common whore?"

Even as the words stung, you couldn't help the shudder felt between your thighs at his dark and sadistic tone. A slight whine leaves you in protest of being stopped.

You could hear his smile in his voice as he pressed himself against your ass and felt the tick-hard cock rocking against you. You managed to make quite the impression.

Soon, you were flipped around to face the intruder; before you stood Alastor. His eyes were blown wide as he looked down at your full breasts, barely covered by the towel now, as you were too distracted to keep it taught around you.

"Drop the towel and get on the bed, dear; let me show you why you will never leave the room like this again."

You nodded blindly, not even caring what would happen. The only things you could focus on were the heat in your core and the shower off in the distance.

You lay on the bed, ass in the air, as Alastor came in behind you. Gently he rubbed your bare ass giving your gaping hole a few strokes, making you moan out softly.

What caught you by surprise, however, was the thick smack against your ass, then Alastor counting. Smooth, soft circles were rubbed on the mark before another slap was heard.

Each slap leads to your pussy clenching and more cum pouring from your hole. A new lewd sound left your mouth as drool pooled around the corner of your lips.

When Alsator had his fill watching your cunt flutter around nothing, he got down on his knees and shoved his tongue deep in your hole. The scream you emitted sent him deep into desire.

As he fucked your cunt with his tongue, you begged and cried to cum, holding it in till he allowed you. You released as soon as he gave you the okay, and Alastor devoured your release like a starved man.

You barely got up, trying to return the favor to him, but he just smiled and patted your head, kissing you gently, your spend fresh on his lips. He vanished into the shadows, reminding you that if you ever pulled a stunt like this again, he would show you who you belonged to.

Lucifer

Lucifer had just gifted you a new rubber duck earlier in the day when you decided that a nice bath or shower would do you some good after all the work in the hotel.

You stood under the beating water, enjoying the sensations of relaxed muscles and wondering thoughts when you heard the door to your room being knocked on.

You just assumed Charlie needed something, so you kept about your business. Climbing out of the shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel and noticed you had left your clothes on your bed.

Walking out to your room, you didn't expect to see Lucifer, let alone him sniffing your panties and rolling his eyes. Both of you looked like deer in the headlights, having been caught.

However, as a few minutes passed and Lucifer noticed you weren't showing him out, he smirked and approached you.

"You like that, Duckie, watching me enjoy your scent, watching me derail mentally at how fuckable you look all the damn time."

Your breath hitched, and a soft, barely audible moan was heard from you as Lucifer smiled and slowly pulled one of your hands from your chest.

He led you to the bed and stood with you at the edge. Slowly he removed his jacket, button-up, and pants, and you watched your pussy aching with each new piece of skin showing on him.

Once he was bare before you, your eyes landed on his thick white cock that was leaking pre cum already. As if he could read your mind, he pulled you onto the bed with him, gently guiding you on top of him.

As he laid down fully and your towled body hovered over him, he could see the rapid rise and fall of your chest; slowly, he pulled the towel off of you and dropped it beside the bed. Your entrance barely hovering over his erect penis.

"Come on, baby girl, ride my cock, see how good it feels to be full of the king of hell."

No second thought, you leaned over gently and stroked his cock before sliding your wet hole down him. As he bottomed out in you, a deep guttural moan was heard from him as his hands gripped your hips.

He let you lead the pace at first, moving your hips in slow circles and bouncing ever so slightly. He waited till you were a mess and your legs were giving out.

As soon as you couldn't keep yourself up anymore, he pulled you down to his chest and repositioned his legs so he could slam up into you.

Eventually, between the scratches, moans, and slaps, his hands went from your hips to your ass cheeks as he violently hammered his cock into your gummy walls, your cum, making a white frothy ring around his cock.

He whispered praise in your ear, making sure you came at least two more times before he began to tell you how close he was. His red, angry tip was brushing the insides of your walls, and before you knew it, he painted your insides white with his thick ropes.

He let you lay there on him, out of breath and fucked out. Slowly, he removed himself from you and helped clean you up again before pulling you into a loving embrace.

Husk

You and Husk had an interesting bond, something that everyone picked up on right away. The sexual tension was there the minute you two laid eyes on one another. However, you two swore you were only friends.

You had been in the shower talking to Husk through the bathroom door as he sat on your bed and drank from his whiskey. However, he also had one hand in his pants, stroking his cock to his imagination of your naked body.

You continued your conversation, unaware of what was happening. However, what caught Husk off guard was that you left the shower running long after you had already gotten out and had the towel wrapped around you.

As the shower cut off, he thought he had a little more time before the door opened, and you caught him red-handed, his hand deep in his pants, massaging his cock to the thought of you.

As you two made eye contact, your legs involuntarily closed and rubbed together at the sight of Husk's fist buried in his pants and his red tip poking out eagerly, waiting for relief.

When he noticed you staring, mouth agape and almost eager to watch him continue or move things further, he smirked and spoke in the dark, husky tone you always liked.

"Why don't you come here doll and clean me up, I was so close till you decided to join me."

You nodded in a trance and joined Husk on your bed. As you made your way over, his pants were shimmied down more so he could spread his legs open a little wider for you.

Once you were between his legs, you looked at his cock and looked up at him through your eyelashes. This seemed to cause a good sensation over Husk as he bucked up towards you.

You slowly dropped the towel taking your place between his legs and raising your ass up for him. Your mouth soon replaced his hand, and you sucked him off gently and slowly till he was grunting steadily.

"Fuck good girl, gonna make daddy fill that pretty mouth and throat, huh. Do good like this, and maybe he will fill that tight pussy too."

It was a new sensation sucking off Husk. You had never done something like this, always being a pillow princess in your past life, but this was erotic on a new level.

The direct eye contact as he watched you slowly love on his cock and suck him off with all the attention you could. Slowly your hand snuck under you, and you began rubbing your clit, eliciting a deep moan around his base.

As soon as he saw what you were up to and the moan that left your mouth, he had his hands deep in your hair and shoving you down on his cock. Head thrown back in bliss at how well you were doing.

Soon he was guiding your head and fuckign your mouth like he was never going to cum again. Pump after pump, your eyes began to tear up, and saliva pooled down your chin and onto his pelvis.

As he was nearing his end, you could feel him tense in your mouth, followed by the ropes of cum down your throat. Once you cleaned him up, watching him twitch from being overstimulated, you moved up his body and kissed him.

It wasn't long after that you two agreed you could no longer classify yourselves as just friends,

Vox

Vox always got his way, and when he needed to talk to someone, he needed to talk to them. He was a busy man with a million schedules and meetings that had to happen so he could stay on top.

You happened to be the key to one of his meetings as you had the flash drive with the classified files he kept off the cloud so no one could steal them.

He banged on your door for five minutes, but he had not heard from you. He had checked all the cameras in the building, and you were nowhere to be seen in the immediate vicinity. Even his front desk assistant had yet to learn where you were.

You were growing on his nerves from his want and almost need to fuck you, and now you disappearing. He was irate and sexually frustrated.

However, on his tenth round of knocking, he wasn't expecting to see you pissed off and wrapped in a dark navy blue towel, complimentary of the man himself, when he offered you this room.

You looked at him, confused. You knew you had all day off because of some stupid big-ass meeting the Vee's had, so why was your boss beating down your damn door.

You were enjoying using the shower head to get off to the thought of said man naked till he interrupted you. However, the look in his eyes when he raked over your body quickly changed your anger into need.

"You will be the death of me, won't you, little one, walking around like a slut and then opening the door for me like a wrapped little present."

Before you could comprehend or answer, you were pushed into your room, the door locked behind him with a flick of his wrist. You were corned on your bed, falling back gently.

He looked over your body from above, shuddering at how your pussy was glistening not just from water but cum. He knew you had to have been pleasuring yourself in that shower.

Slowly, he unzipped his pants and loosened his tie as he crawled over you. He unfurled the towel from your front and admired your beautiful body.

Slowly, he leaned down and kissed you deeply and let his hand wander your chest and rub your nipples. The little mewls of pleasure were intoxicating for him, and he knew he needed more.

So much for a quick fuck, he was soon taking off his suit and button up with your assistance as he heatedly made out with you and adorned your body in hickies.

Once he was undressed and satisfied with how marked you were, he slid his hand down your stomach and rubbed his fingers through your soaked folds.

He gently messaged your clit and teased your tight hole with his fingers. As your moans picked up and he felt you shudder into an intense orgasm, he smiled and used the slick on his hands to rub his cock.

"I am going to fuck you so hard. All you can think about is me. Do you understand, little one? I am going to fill you up and claim you as mine."

You whied in a soft moan, and he had his throbbing blue tip lined up with your aching cunt. He dived into you and began pounding your walls, finding all the spots that led you to arch your back.

He wanted more, though he needed more, and soon he had your knees up to your ears, and he held you in a mating press fucking his cock into your cervix and watching you roll your eyes back.

He spat in your mouth and smiled, watching you gulp and moan as his cock brushed just right, and you spasmed around him, milking even him dry, his cum, painting your walls.

Once you both calmed down he pulled out slowly and cleaned you up gently, he had over 60 missed called from Velvette and Valentino because he chose to fuck you over the big meeting.

Oh well, at least now you have no more desk work as you have become Vox's lover and personal fuck toy.

Prompt assistance: @literallurker

[anisespice]

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 3

one || two || four

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 

pairing: various x gn!reader [ osamu, sakusa ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, MDI. literally can’t be bothered to think of anything else, but feel free to let me know lol

notes: sooo i lied <333 i’ve decided to give suna his own chapter later on (srry suna lovers !!!!) i just wasn’t satisfied with how his was turning out, and it was the only roadblock delaying my progress soooo figured we’d just put a pin in his for now lol especially for those who were FROTHING for these two in particular (this for y'all ✨) hope you enjoy :)))

notes ii: nobody LOOK AT ME, this took me an embarrassingly long time lol. i’m not familiar with them, personality-wise, but i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

notes iii: this one’s got atsumu written all over it LMAOOO

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy

“Aht-CHOO!”

The bowl of popcorn nearly flew out your lap when you shrieked bloody-murder, body in fight or flight from the abrupt sound happening moments before a jumpscare in the movie you were watching. Head on a swivel, you soon realized the culprit wasn’t a psycho-killer in a ghost mask, but your darling OSAMU with his lawnmower of a sneeze coming through your front door.

You exhaled, relieved, but scared shitless. After pausing the movie, you glared down the hall leading to the door. “Seriously? You had to do that with your entire chest?”

Osamu sniffled, then muttered. “…Y’supposed to say bless ya before scoldin’ at your sweet and thoughtful boyfriend, y’know…”

“Aw, bless you, my love. And, fuck you.”

The brunette snorted, no doubt rolling his eyes as he toed off his shoes. Coming down the hall to soon reveal his handsome face, illuminated only by the bright tv screen, Osamu held up a large plastic bag filled with something greasy and delicious as the smell traveled up your nose. He grinned smugly at you intently eyeing the bag. “Fuck me, huh?”

You immediately doubled down, waving your hands. “Waitwaitwait I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it as in…fuck you’RE so sweet and thoughtful, and I love you so much..?”

Osamu hummed, taking off his ball cap to place it on your head. Shaking it a little by the brim, he winked. “Nice save, darlin’.”

He made way for your inspace kitchen to get dinner assorted with you trailing not too far behind. Your eyes eagerly ate up the widespread of all your favorites displayed on the countertop, practically hanging off his back since there was barely any room for the both of you in the tiny space. Popcorn long forgotten, your stomach sang a symphony for some real food, Osamu saving you the trouble of eating instant noodles for dinner yet again.

And without you even having to ask him for any of it, too.

Your gaze eventually locked onto the former volleyball player, eyeing him up with a newfound hunger that he was quick to pick up on while he popped a piece of fried chicken in his mouth. Looking down at you with a raised brow he patiently waited for you to voice your thoughts, a boyish grin growing on his face as he chewed.

You blinked. He blinked back, then chuckled lightly. “We communicatin’ telepathically, or somethin’?”

“If we were, you’d know I wanna suck you dry right now.”

Osamu.exe—E R R O R.

Man straight up inhaled the little that was still in his mouth, hurling him into a fit of hacks as he turned away from the food to fight for his life at your sink. Coughing up what he could into the drain with you behind him hitting his back for support, you couldn’t stop the evil, little laugh from slipping out seeing this as a form of karma for the scare earlier. Osamu fixed you with a weak glare once he calmed down, reaching over to pinch your cheek. “A warnin’ next time, would’ya?…”

You winced, but mirth still swam in your eyes. “Your only warning would’ve been your pants around your ankles-”

“Oi, quit that.” He gently grabbed your jaw to squish up your mouth, though it didn’t repress the cheeky grin you wore. The brunette did his best to remain unfazed, but the flush across his face was evident, your words clearly effecting him. “…Jeez, at least ask me how m’day was before ya slut me out. Soundin’ like all them thirsty-ass comments floodin’ my socials all damn day.”

Osamu let go of your face to grab plates from your cabinet, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded. Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms with a raised brow. “‘m sorry…the what flooding your socials?”

He busied himself with fixing your plate, nonchalantly recalling the very incident that occurred the other day, “That dumb fuck-list or whatever, mixed up me ‘nd ‘tsumu in their little post. Had his ugly mug front ‘nd center, but had my name attached to this long-winded thread ‘bout me basically being better in the sack than him. Shit’s wild.”

“The fuck-what now?” Osamu handed over a healthy plate full of food, you absentmindedly took it but made no move to eat. He started fixing his own, acting as if he didn’t just delay your appetite with this information. “Y—…you’re joking right? There’s no way something like that exists.”

“Oh, t’s very much real. Read it with my own eyes,” he licked the spoon he used to spread sauce across his chicken. “What, ya sayin’ ya haven’t heard of it? Seriously?”

“You know I don’t care enough to keep up with the trends that go on around here. And with good reason, clearly. What’s even the purpose?”

He shrugged. “Beats me. But it’s got ‘tsumu givin’ me the silent treatment, so maybe it’s not that bad after all.”

“Pfft. He’s pissy because some random on the internet said you’re the better lay? How would they know?? You’re both happily taken, and I wish a bitch would.” You smugly declared, bringing your food to the living room.

Osamu grinned at your possessive tone, trailing behind you holding plate and soda cans in either hand. “Damn straight. But, wasn’t just some random, babe. We’re talkin’ millions.”

Had you not already gotten situated on the couch, you would’ve surely spilled food all over yourself. Jaw nearly to the floor, you blinked up at him, bewildered. “Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

“Holy shit.”

Osamu took his usual spot next to you, large frame nearly taking up most of the couch. With bellies empty, knee knocking against knee, and elbow nudging elbow, the brunette hummed contently as he soaked in his favorite atmosphere—Your voice, your warmth, you. Though too busy monologuing about the absurdity of such a thing going viral to notice his fond gaze, Osamu silently listened to every word as he began eating from his plate. Although, all that mushiness is soon pushed to the back of his mind when the next sentence fell from your lips. After you eventually found said post to see it for yourself, needless to say you had some…hot takes.

“How could someone write this and not cringe? I mean, I love you ‘samu, but a Dom? If only they knew how nervous you were our first time, it was so adorable.” You giggled, tossing some chicken into your mouth. “You are not that guy.”

Osamu’s chewing paused. Your laughter eventually died down.

You didn’t feel his stare earlier…but you were definitely feeling it now, Mr. Krabs. Suddenly, the same dread you got when anticipating a jumpscare resurfaced. A sinking pit in your stomach like a rabbit stumbling upon a fox—Cliché aside, you fucked up. And you knew it in your bones the second your eyes locked with his, void of fondness and full of hunger despite his plate being half-eaten.

He swallowed the bit in his mouth, then spoke. “Sure ‘bout that?”

You mouth moved, floundered even, but nothing would come out. And Osamu didn’t rush you either, if anything he gladly watched you struggle while he continued munching away. “I—..I-I mean..I was just saying. Because…y’know, you never…we never really-”

“Mm. Jus’ cause we usually take things slow doesn’t mean you can’t get a hole fucked into your mattress, sweetheart. Keep tryin’ ya luck, ‘nd ya just might. Finish eatin’ first, though. Ya gonna need your energy.”

SAKUSA couldn’t give a flying fuck about the list. He would literally walk away from someone mid-conversation if said topic got brought up. And don’t think that you’re the exception, either—Man parked and got out of his OWN CAR during the drive back to his place, refusing to get back in until you dropped the subject entirely.

“Omi-”

“No.”

“C’monnnn.”

“No.”

You giggled, “I won’t talk about it anymore, I promise.”

He had his back to you as you spoke through the rolled down, driver’s side window, trying to ‘pspspsps’ him back into the car like a stubborn cat. Sakusa knew he was being ridiculous, but he just couldn’t stomach anymore nonsense. Plus, there’s a bit of suspicion on his end whenever it came to talking about the accursed list—Sakusa saw it as a bad omen.

Anyone who talked about it within his circle, be it teammates or personal friends, miraculously found themselves posted up the following day like fresh meat on the market. Once he caught wind that not even taken people were spared from being thirsted over, his disdain merely amplified, as did his precaution.

“Baby, I’ll burn some sage back at your apartment to scare away the bad energy from my filthy words. Would that make you feel better?”

Sakusa huffed, looking over his shoulder to give you a good ole stank face—One you barely paid any mind to as you batted your lashes at him. He glitched. Had it not been for the mask he was wearing, you’d see the harsh flush that spread across his face. Too bad his neck was exposed, giving him away as you grinned knowingly. But, you weren’t about to distract him from the issue at hand, you temptress.

“Don’t patronize me. Besides, you didn’t say it at my apartment, you said it in the car. Would completely defeat the purpose.”

You blinked.

There was no stopping the laughing fit you fell into when his words eventually processed, borderline cackling. “I-I’ll sage the car then, how ‘bout that?”

The ravenette squinted, marching up to the car to stick his head in before pulling his mask down so you could see his heavy frown through your tearful hysterics.

“You’re laughing. You’ve doomed me to becoming targeted by perverts, and you’re laughing.”

“‘yoomi, PLEASE.” You wheezed, waving a hand at him for mercy. With a couple stuttered intakes of air, you did your best to pull it together. “Don’t you think…you’re being a little paranoid?”

Amusement colored your features when you made eye contact with the outside hitter. Sakusa rolled his, tugging his mask back on before re-entering the car. “We’ll see how funny you find it when we can’t be seen together in public anymore.”

“And why not?” You raised a brow, still giggly.

Sakusa buckled in, taking the car out of park. “Because. When I do get posted, I won’t be leaving the safety of my room until that shit gets banned.”

“Oh my god, honey, I promise. You’re worrying over nothing. If you were gonna be on the list, don’t you think you would’ve by now? I mean, c’mon, even Hinata got on it before you. Majority of your teammates did!”

“That’s exactly my point. I’m the only one left.”

The two of you continued a playful back and forth pretty much the whole drive, more so you teasing him than anything else. After a while, having had your fun, you gave it a rest much to Sakusa’s relief. “Can still burn some sage, if you want-” “You’re not funny.”

Your evening continued on as normal, him taking a shower while you busied yourself by looking for a show the two of you could binge. Although, even after the discussion from earlier had been dropped, your boyfriend’s words still echoed in the back of your mind like a mantra. ‘I’m the only one left.’

As much as you’d hate to admit, though never to his face, your over-suspicious companion had a point. Without the safety net of his more extroverted teammates being in the spotlight of rabid fans, what’s delaying the swarm of unsolicited desires now? Even with his sourtude, Sakusa was an attractive individual—The dark curls that frame his face perfectly, his piercing pools of obsidian that shred through you like paper, the beauty marks above his brow, his THIGHS. And those were just surface-level things.

Being one of the privileged few who’ve seen all layers of Sakusa, you couldn’t blame them for wanting to explore deeper into who he was beyond that cold exterior…in more ways than one. Who better to fill those burning questions than some horny randos with too much time on their hands?

But, he’s made it this far without issue, what’s there to worry about now?—*Bzzzzt*

You jolt slightly, the harsh vibration coming from the sofa table breaking you out of your thoughts. With a short glance at your phone, the lit screen revealed an incoming call from Sakusa’s cousin, Komori. You exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, reaching over to grab the device and answer it. However, as your thumb hovered over the green button, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder…why would he be calling you?

You shook your head, answering the call before your mind could wander. He probably just wanted to catch up, make small talk. A smile graced your face as you happily greeted him, “Mori! Hi, what can I do ya for-?”

“Has he seen it?? Am I too late??”

You froze, blinking widely in stunned confusion. Your silence must have been loud enough for the man to grow more anxious, calling out your name to regain your attention. “Uh…has who seen what?”

Komori exhaled, in what you could only assume was relief. “Thank God…you sound blissfully unaware. That means there’s still time. You’re at his place, right?”

You blinked, eyes looking around as if he could see you.

“Kiyoomi’s? Yeah, I am. He’s in the shower at the moment if you were trying to reach him. Is everything okay?”

Now it was him who turned silent. You waited with bated breath, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you wracked your brain for every worst case scenario…but a small part of you already had an idea.

“It’s the complete opposite, I’m afraid.”

‘Kiyoomi Sakusa. 6’2ft of ?????. An enigma. We had to take our time this one. This tall, personification of a hand sanitizer bottle may appear to be disgusted and disinterested, but once you get past those disinfectant defenses of his…Lady in the streets, but a freak in the bed. Why else would he keep so clean all the time? It’s ‘cause he’s hiding an absolute FILTHY ANIMAL behind his mask (literally and figuratively) you cannot convince me otherwise. Definitely a Hard Dom, would degrade you for making a mess all over him even though he’s the one to blame; THRIVES when you get messy for him tho. Firm believer that he’d spit in your mouth, both as punishment and a reward. He won’t make much noise, you’ll think he’s doing taxes while deep in your guts, but just watch his face; homie is EXPRESSIVE. Aftercare could go either way, but he’d probably focus more on getting the sheets changed than cleaning you up. 7/10.’

You clenched the phone in disbelief, eyes watering due to the sexual word-vomit burning them the more you read on. It didn’t even take you long to find the dreaded post you were convinced would never manifest, refreshing the page multiple times just to confirm its existence. “Shit. I really did doom him to being targeted by perverts…”

“Huh??” Komori voiced. You merely brushed it off.

“Nothing,” you sighed. Taking the conversation out on the balcony in case Sakusa overheard, you had Komori on speaker as you attempted to do damage control. “Do the others know about this? Oh God, does Atsumu?? Knowing him, he’d surely jump at the chance to tease Omi with something like this.”

“Dunno. Just found out myself, and you were the first person I thought to call.”

You looked over your shoulder, peeking inside to see if the outside hitter was roaming around. There didn’t appear to be any movement, but there’s no doubt he finished showering by now.

Exhaling, you began sifting through your contacts. “We need to do whatever it takes to make sure he never finds out about the post. I’ll text everyone I know to help flag it down, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take before-”

“Who’re you talking to?”

Startled, phone nearly tossed off the balcony, you turned toward the sudden appearance of your freshly washed boyfriend, towel around his neck and adorned in lounge wear. Komori held his breath, as if he also were caught in the act even though he could easily escape with a mere press of a button. “Um…your cousin.”

“Okay, but…why’d you come out here? You wouldn’t have disturbed me if you took the call inside.” Sakusa raised a brow at your stiff posture, perplexed but concerned. “Something the matter?”

“No!” You winced at your own volume. His eyes widened slightly, making you nervously chuckle. Clearing your throat, you attempted to play it cool. “No, uh…just wanted to get some air while catching up with Komori, that’s all. W-why d’you ask?”

Sakusa squinted at you. “You’re jumpy.”

“J-Jumpy? Me? Uh.. that’s because…” Searching your brain for an excuse, luckily Komori had your back with his quick thinking.

“B-Because! We’re talking about the list! And t-they figured you wouldn’t wanna hear us, so-” SLAM!

Before he could even get the rest of the explanation out, Sakusa had already closed the sliding door. You and Komori shared a sigh of relief. You watched Sakusa’s back retreat into the living room as he sat on the couch, flickering around for something to put on to pass the time.

Just as suspected…still paranoid.

“That was close…”

“Super close. Think he bought it?”

You groaned, hesitant to take your eyes off him. “Won’t matter if he decides to check his phone at some point…”

It didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight, hopefully charging in another room. But, there was no point in wasting time worrying about that. You had some flagging to do. And as long as he had no reason to look at it, you’d be fine.

Sakusa, now bored with you occupied by something else, couldn’t help but to watch you longingly from the couch. You were speaking so animatedly, using your free hand to gesture, pacing back and forth. He frowned—How can that stupid list be more important than snuggling up with him? Yet another reason to hate it.

Exhaling through his nose he leaned back on the sofa, remote in hand as he looked for something to help pass the time. However, before he could get very far in his search, his phone rings.

Confused, he reached into his pocket. Instantly, his mood went from neutral to shriveled when he read the caller ID—Miya.

He had half a mind to ignore it, but knowing Atsumu he’d probably just keep calling until the inevitable happened with him turning up on his doorstep. Sakusa gave an annoyed huff, reluctantly answering the phone.

“Better have a good reason to be calling me this late, idiot.”

“Oh ho ho. Believe me, Omi-Omi. You’ll wanna see this.”

Back on the balcony, after the sixth time flagging the post for misinformation and harassment, you suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere that wasn’t there moments before. Halting your frantic thumbs, you slowly looked up from the screen as a cold chill ran up your spine; something didn’t feel right in the force.

You weren’t sure what made you turn back to look inside the room, but the moment you did…it was like the world had gone into slow motion—Komori’s voice faded into the background as he called out your name, drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding through your ribs at the sight of Sakusa on his phone, face contorted into what could only be described as pure humiliation as he stared into the endless abyss while on his knees.

Probably should’ve burned that sage when you had the chance.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[separatist-apologist]

Sink Beneath The Waves

Summary: There is more to the mysterious man, who saves Elain Archeron from a shipwreck, than meets the eye.

CW: Major Character Death

Read On AO3

“Wake up!”

Elain jolted awake, hair tangled in her face, to her youngest sister gripping her roughly by the shoulders. The smell of salt was heavy in the air, compounded by fear that seemed to hang like fog around them. Elain sat up in her bed, breath curling in front of her face.

“What’s happened?” she asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Nesta was sitting on the bed just opposite, eyes wide with horror.

“The ship is sinking,” Feyre told her, prompting Elain to swing her feet over the edge of the bed only to land in a few inches of frigid water. “We need to get out.” The ship was a steamliner, large and supposedly unsinkable. It was meant to take them to America across the Atlantic. Elain had been apprehensive the whole trip leading to the departure, and it had been her sisters who insisted ships were safe, now. They rarely, if ever, sunk.

You’re more likely to be hit by lightning, Feyre had said earnestly.

Elain supposed they’d never had good luck. The sort that would have them on a sinking steamliner rather than winning an absurd sum of money and living off the wealth until they died. They had an aunt in America who did have means, and had agreed to take them in and help them get sorted after their father had died, leaving them only with debts. 

Shivering, and still in her white night dress, Elain sloshed after her sisters from their second class cabin into the hall. Lights flickered ominously as more water greeted them. They weren’t the only ones making their way toward the stairs, and even in disaster, Elain found it strangely amusing to see people queue politely for the steps.

Behind her, Nesta reached for her hand and squeezed, her touch clammy and scared. They were going to be fine, Elain wanted to assure her, but the words stuck in her throat. She’d feel better once she knew they were safe. She kept expecting some crew member to tell them to return to their cabins, that everything was fine and the water would be cleared out by morning. 

It only occurred to her, as the water began to recede with every step upward they took, what the lower decks must look like. 

She didn’t turn back to look, heart pounding in her throat. 

Everything is okay. Everything is okay. Everything is okay.

Everything was not okay. They wove their way through the first class corridors, ignoring a woman clutching a sobbing, screaming child to her chest as she tried to reassure them everything was fine. Elain wished she had a mother to do the same, though she was a woman of twenty three and her mother had been dead for more than a decade. 

The lights blew in one of the halls, throwing sparks over Feyre’s head like rain droplets in a storm. Elain had to bite back the urge to scream, thinking of the mother and child somewhere behind them. She didn’t want to panic them any further. 

Elain was still clinging to hope that everything would be fine. Beneath the ship, it was easy to think it was simply panicked masses seeing water and overreacting. However, once they emerged on the top deck, the full scope of the horror came plainly into view. The ship was tilted, causing a slope as they made their way upward. It wasn’t so sharp that people were sliding back down, but Elain knew if they remained for another hour, the ship might end up standing wholly on its end.

People crammed toward lifeboats as crewmen called for women and children first. Nesta shoved Elain forward, causing Elain to, in turn, shove Feyre into the waiting hands of one of the crew members. Feyre screamed as the crowd surged, shoving Elain back.

It was a push and pull of desperation—Feyre vanished over the side of the ship, tears streaking down her face as she called out for her sisters. Elain’s panic became icy, listening to the sobbing and the creaking, intermingled to create a symphony of chaos. 

“There,” Nesta whispered as another boat was deployed. There were seats—enough for three. Nesta elbowed forward, taller and steelier than Elain. Elain watched her older sister step inside, and just as she was about to, she saw that same mother with the sobbing child standing just to her left.

There would be other boats, she told herself, ignoring Nesta’s impassioned, and furious cries, to allow the mother to take her spot. The woman pressed a swift kiss to Elain’s cheek, holding her child closer to her chest.

“You’re an angel,” she whispered in Elain’s ear. 

As it turned out, once that lifeboat deployed, the rest were on the other side of the ship. Elain made her way, ignoring the way the ship continued to lean dangerously. The large smoke stacks overhead cast large shadows and she wondered what would happen if they toppled. She’d be long gone by then.

The lights of the ship winked out as the vessel groaned beneath the weight of the water within. Elain had never truly known fear like she did right then, gripping the smooth, brass railing while trying to steady herself. Her sisters had made it safely and she would, too. They’d be reunited soon enough, and this would merely be another story they’d tell to friends.

Elain had made it to the opposite end of the ship, shivering violently in the cold night air. She could see lights in the distance—rescue was on its way, though whether it would be fast enough to keep them all from plunging into the water, Elain didn’t know. 

Unlike the controlled chaos on the other end of the ship, this was pure pandemonium. Twice, lifeboats were sent crashing to the water, empty of passengers. The rest were sent half full, if that, thanks to panicking crew men who often jumped at the last minute, leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves.

The reality of her circumstances dawned on her just as all the lights on the ship winked out. She was holding the railing for dear life at that point, watching several men argue over how to cut the remaining lifeboats loose so they might get in. Whether they could even deploy them at such a lean was uncertain. Pistols came out, a bullet flying which effectively silenced the argument.

There was nothing she could say or do to keep things under control. Her voice was gone, silenced in her fear. Even if she could, the constant groaning of steel would have drowned her out. 

A horrible crunching turned the world icy and silent. Beneath her feet, the ship shook violently, tilting so far forward that Elain nearly pitched down the deck to slam into a doorway leading inside. Holding the railing so tight her knuckles were white from the effort, Elain watched two of the steam stacks topple forward, their bolting crumbling under the strain of the water.

The ship was breaking in two, and she was going to take everyone down with her. In that moment, Elain was faced with two options—remain as she was and drown, or jump into the frigid Atlantic and potentially drown there. Both options terrified her—the water was inky black and bottomless, but the idea of being trapped on the ship as it made its way to the bottom of the sea scared her even more. 

She could make her way to one of the lifeboats, she reasoned. A lot of them were only half empty. And the lights in the distance promised of rescue. Elain forced herself on the railing, bare feet shaking, and leapt into the night.

She screamed on her way down. It seemed to last forever before she slammed violently into the water. All the air expelled from her body, muscles seizing in the cold. Elain lay suspended beneath the surface, panic filling with before she managed to will her legs to kick, her arms to flail.

The moment cold air bit at her face, Elain began swimming as quickly as she could away from the drowning ship. She didn’t know if she could be sucked beneath with it, and she didn’t want to find out. She could hear nothing but her own breathing and the splashing of her hands in the water until she finally found an empty, floating lifeboat overturned on its side.

It was miserably, slippery work to haul herself atop it. With her night dress clinging to her skin, Elain lay on her back to stare upward at the starry sky. She was in a waking nightmare, surrounded by the sounds of terrified people also plunged into the frozen water and the miserable snapping of the ship. Where was rescue she wondered?

Where were her sisters? Elain closed her eyes to block out the horror of her current predicament. She thought of the lights in the distance that were surely coming, not daring to curl into a ball lest she overtip her little piece of safety. She was cold, but she was alive.

She was going to be alright.

Elain didn’t remember falling asleep. All she knew was one moment she was trying to block out the sound of a child wailing, and the next a masculine voice was calling down to her. Peeling open her near frozen lids, Elain found herself looking up at a wooden ship. It seemed so out of place in the misty dawn, and yet a ladder had been pulled over the side and a man was currently scaling it to help her up.

She didn’t think she could move. Elain watched, noting, as he came into view, that his long, auburn hair was pulled in a rather neat ponytail at the nape of his neck, and one of his eyes had been replaced with a golden fixture. She stared at the trio of scars raking down his otherwise handsome face, unsure what else to look at.

“Take my hand,” he urged, offering one to her as he used the other to hang on to the ladder. Elain forced herself up on her elbows so she could take the warmth of his hand. Elain exhaled a breath, stunned by the quiet.

“Where is everyone?” she whispered, letting him half carry her against his body. He couldn’t meet her gaze, instead turning back to his swaying ship. “Did they die?”

His silence was answer enough. 

“Why did no one come?” she asked, her voice a little more urgent than before. He helped her over the edge, allowing Elain to tumble gracelessly to the deck where she found herself alone. The faint sound of voices told her there were others he’d pulled out lurking somewhere on his vessel.

“They did,” he told her, straightening himself. He wore tan breeches with brass buttons on either sides of his hips, and a white shirt tucked into the waistband, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Scuffed boots, though polished nicely, rose nearly to his knees, betraying an athletic man who worked hard, if his muscular thighs and strong biceps had anything to say about it. 

“They didn’t get me,” she said, bottom lip wobbling.

He offered her a sympathetic smile. “I nearly missed you, too.”

“Are there others?” she asked, catching the sounds of footsteps on the stairs below. They sounded small—like a childs. That eased some of the ache in her chest. 

“Yes,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And we’ll look for more before we leave.”

He stepped around her for a crate, pulling out a large, green jacket to drape around her. Glancing down at her body, Elain realized every inch of her was on display. She’d forgotten she’d gone overboard in a thin nightdress. It was a miracle she’d survived. 

“Can I help?” she asked. “I just—”

Elain bit her lip as he cocked his head, curiosity getting the better of him. “You what?”

“My sisters,” she finally whispered, biting back the urge to cry in front of her savior. “I need to know if they survived.”

It was more than that, though—Elain needed to help as many people as she could. The scale of the suffering, of the tragedy, was not lost on her. Even as she stood on that swaying ship, she could hear the sound of snapping steel and cracking metal. She could hear the desperate cries of the people denied a life boat, who’d made the same agonizing choice she had.

“There are clothes down below deck,” her savior said, pity in his eyes. “Warm yourself first.”

Elain did as she was told, following the path down below deck. It smelled like salt and wood and something else—something strangely comforting. Like sunlight over her garden back home and the warmth of her bed on cool, autumn evening. 

Inside the cabin, Elain found more people milling about. Mothers with their children, deck hands and other cabin crew, men staring down at their hands, eyes glassy from the horror. Elain offered them a smile before making her way through, ignoring the doors to individual rooms she assumed they’d all be sharing, for another set of crates holding a variety of clothes, some so out of date she had to wonder where they’d come from. She managed to find a rather nice dress that fit well in a pretty yellow and green pattern that suited her well enough. Elain slipped into one of the rooms and put it on quickly, wishing she had more underthings. The dress itself was flowy, fashionable once upon a time, though comfortable which felt more important than looking like a respectable lady.

Once she had it laced over her skin, she found underthings weren’t wholly necessary. She managed to dig out some stockings and shoes before making her way back up to the deck where the captain as ushering some new souls aboard. Two men, both shell shocked and silent, took her place below deck as she returned to the cold.

“Your jacket…”

“Lucien,” he told her, cocking his head again. “My name is Lucien.”

“Elain Archeron,” she said, offering her his hand. His skin was warm against her own, filling her with the strangest feeling of contentment. Maybe it was the relative safety that made her feel that way. They exchanged small smiles before he nodded at the jacket still draped over her arm. 

“Keep it. I don’t feel the chill anymore.”

Elain offered another smile, slipping her arms into the sleeves to leech the remaining warmth left to the fabric. “How does this work?”

“We just sail,” he said, his voice heavy. “And keep a lookout for anyone in the water.”

“Where is your crew?”

“No crew,” he murmured, taking the steps upward toward the helm. “It’s just me and this ship that’s been passed down generations.”

“Do you know how many people were rescued last night?” she questioned. 

He shook his head sadly. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Elain steadied herself with a long breath. “That’s okay. I’m here to help, all the same.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” he said as she joined him at his side. “I wouldn’t fault you for resting.”

But Elain strangely wasn’t tired, or hungry. Now that she was safe, she merely wanted to get home. Cold air whipped her hair around her face, causing her to push the golden brown curls out of her eyes.

“I would fault me,” she finally said, admitting the truth. “It’s not just my sisters, it's…”

He stared, lips parted as if he’d never heard another person speak. She felt like her words were important—like he cared. 

“I jumped from the ship,” she told him. “It snapped in half, it…I just…I want to help. I need to help.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a nod of his head. 

It was agonizing work that day, eyes strained against the gloom, to try and pick out survivors. What were the odds, she wondered, that anyone had managed to survive the night. “There,” she whispered, seeing a bobbing figure in the water. It was a woman and a little girl, clutching each other tight with dull eyes and blue lips. Elain raced downstairs for blankets, relieved to find the cabin doors closed, and mostly cleared of bodies. People were tired—they deserved quiet. 

“You found us,” the woman whispered to Lucien while Elain fell to her knees to wrap a blanket around the little girl.

“You’re safe, now,” she promised, noting the little frozen droplets clinging to the childs lashes. The child didn’t respond—Elain didn’t expect them to. She merely clung to her mothers hand, dress dripping puddles over the wood beneath them, before vanishing below deck.

“You should rest,” Lucien told her a second time as Elain’s legs began to ache a little from standing so straight, her eyes watering from the stinging salt air and staring into the gloom. What little light had filtered from overhead was quickly vanishing, leaving only the blackest night again.

“I don’t think people could survive another night,” Elain told him, leaning over the rail to look down at the water below. 

“You never know,” he replied, coming to join her for a moment. Propped on his elbows, he bit his bottom lip ever so slightly. “You did.”

“One night. Not two.”

“All we can do is try. You’ve been brave,” he added, turning to wholly look at her. “No one offered to help except you.”

“They’ve been through a lot,” Elain heard herself say, heart quickening in her chest. “I don’t fault them for it.”

“Neither do I,” he hastily assured her. “Nor would I fault you for getting some sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” she said, looking at his face. He was so handsome—so lovely, and bright, and warm. Like the sun itself beating down on her, though he was only a man who’d realized she was alive and had pulled her out of the water. 

Elain would take whatever she could get. Any little kindness felt monumental and overwhelming. 

“Me either,” he said with a heavy sigh. “The ship, it just…”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

“I don’t know what happened,” she admitted, wondering if he had a radio or something that might explain it. His eyes became glassy, expression slack as he stared into the distance. 

“I wish I could tell you,” he finally said, his voice strangely helpless. “I haven’t seen a wreck like that in…my life, I suppose.”

“My sisters got into lifeboats,” she said, more to reassure herself than anything. “We were separated.”

“Why didn’t you join them?”

Elain explained about the mother shushing the child as they’d passed, and how they’d all caught up at the lifeboat. She couldn’t explain why she’d nearly traded her life for theirs. Only that in the moment, it hadn’t felt like a choice—she’d merely done it without question, without thinking. 

Lucien’s lips parted, a strange look of wonder sparkling in his one good, russet eye. “That was…” he swallowed. “Very brave.”

“Was it?” she questioned. It merely felt decent. But he nodded his head, allowing them to lapse into comfortable silence. The world was quiet, even aboard the ship, and even the heavy mist blanketing the world didn’t feel concerning.

“I’m used to singular sailors,” Lucien told her once night had fully settled. They were still at the helm, him showing her how to keep the ship on course. Holding the wheel was harder than she’d expected, straining to pull away if she became complacent. “Not…not all this.” “Do you routinely pick up people stranded at sea?” she tried to tease. His fingers slid over hers, holding the wheel steady.

“More often than you’d imagine,” he replied, towering over her. It was tempting to lean herself back against his warmth, to bask in the solid strength of his body. He was a stranger, and yet she felt as if she knew him. “It’s become a calling.”

“Rescuing?”

He nodded. “I didn’t set out to do it, but…”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” she told him, inclining her head to look up at him. His eyes slid down her face, landing squarely on her mouth.

“So am I,” he admitted. “What would it take to convince you to lay down?”

There was a twinge of sadness to his voice. “I think all the rooms are taken.”

“Have mine, then.”

Promising the ship was capable of steering itself—some new technology that seemed wholly out of place on his large, wooden ship with its billowing sails, but she supposed it was more for aesthetic than anything. 

The captain's quarters were large, with a rather nice bed pushed up against windows overlooking the sea, and a table and chairs for working or eating–whatever he preferred. Food was set out if she wanted it, though Elain was still too worked up to eat anything.

“Get some rest,” he urged, lingering in the doorway. 

Elain nearly asked him to join her. She didn’t know what possessed her to do so, only that lingering feeling that she knew him. Instead, Elain nodded her head, allowing him to close the door.

She collapsed into the warm, soft bed, inhaling the smell of him on the pillow. She hadn’t meant to sleep, but the moment she curled herself beneath a blanket, Elain was gone. Her dreams were a haze of bright light and voices she couldn’t quite make out. Lost to the blinding sunshine, she thought she heard Feyre and Nesta talking, and when she woke, she darted back above deck expecting to see them.

Lucien seemed surprised to see her. “You’re back.” “It’s dawn,” she replied, rubbing sleep from the corners of her eyes. “I thought I heard my sisters.”

He only shook his head. “No Archeron’s.”

“Maybe they survived,” she said with a hopeful smile. Lucien offered her a shy one in response.

“Maybe,” he agreed. 

They spent the day together—alone—out on deck. Lucien showed her how to climb into the bird's nest, giving Elain a three hundred and sixty degree view of the world around them. The mist had lifted, though it was still a gray, moody day with a faint sprinkling of rain that made it hard to stay warm. 

She alternated between silence, looking for anyone they might have missed and asking Lucien a million questions. 

“Don’t you get lonely out here by yourself?” she heard herself questioning later that evening, seated across from him at the swaying table. He popped a grape into his mouth.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. 

“Where will you go when you drop me off?” she asked.

“Back to sea,” he replied easily, though she saw the sadness etched into his expression. He didn’t want her to leave. Neither did Elain, if she was being honest.

“I’m supposed to be starting a new life in New York,” she informed him, noting how he leaned forward with interest. He didn’t ask, but Elain told him anyway—how her mother had succumbed to cholera, and then her father had died, seemingly, of a broken heart. She told him about the debts and selling their family estate to make it even, leaving them penniless and in danger of destitution before being rescued by a wealthy aunt in America. 

“You didn’t want to be married?” he asked, elbows resting on the table. They’d abandoned eating for talking, illuminated by a few candles anchored to the desk. 

“I was engaged for a time,” she admitted, waiting for the familiar stab of shame and embarrassment. “He left when he discovered there was no dowry as promised.”

Lucien nodded his head. “That won’t be a problem for you now, I suppose.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be married,” Elain replied, unable to drag her eyes off him. He was off-limits—the wrong kind of man for someone like her. She was certain her aunt would never allow it, and besides, she barely knew him. 

Still, she could imagine it. The whole thing was terribly romantic, marrying the man who’d rescued her from a watery grave. Would he abandon the sea for land if she asked? Elain didn’t dare—he didn’t know her at all. 

“No? What do you want, then?”

“To travel,” she admitted. “Everywhere. I want to see the whole world.”

His smile threatened to blind her. “You’d get on another ship after everything that happened?”

Elain considered it. “Well. I suppose now I know what might happen. I could prepare myself better for rough seas.”

“You could,” he agreed. Was he wondering the same thing she was? He rose to his feet, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “I should—”

“Will you stay?” she asked, heart beating so loudly she was certain he could hear her. “Please?”

“You don’t have to beg,” he murmured, eyeing the bed again. “I ah…of course.”

Did he offer this to everyone? Unlikely. Elain hadn’t heard a peep from the people in the other rooms, and she wondered if they, too, were miserable in their loneliness. She was afraid to ask when they’d dock or where he’d go when it was all over. Was she a bad person for not wanting it to end? It was, easily, the worst experience of her life.

But when Lucien settled into the bed beside her, Elain thought that it was the best, too. She had freedom, away from the constraints of the life she knew she was hurtling back toward. He’d let her help him set food out for the other refugees, had shown her how to navigate by the stars, how to get the most out of the sails and keep the ship on course.

How much more would she learn if she could remain another week? Two? Elain curled beside him until her head was on his shoulder.

“You should sleep,” he whispered, his breath tickling her hair. Elain was certain she couldn’t be able to, certain she’d be too awake sleeping next to a man she barely knew. But like always, Elain fell into her too bright, confusing dreams.

They spent a week like that, Lucien loosening whatever kept him at an arms length when it came to her, Elain coming into her own on the ship. No one bothered them—she knocked on doors, sometimes receiving answers but more often, receiving nothing at all. She knew better than to intrude, though she often told Lucien how she wished they’d come up, too, and get some fresh air.

He merely offered her a sad smile in response. “Not everyone can find joy in tragedy,” he told her. It had been seven days with no sign of land, and Elain, who’d once been so desperate to reach her sisters, was finding that she never wanted to see it again. The strange, bright dreams had begun to fade back to normal as her body adjusted to life at sea. 

“Eat this,” Lucien instructed, tossing her an orange. Elain smiled, digging her nails into the skin to get at the flesh. 

“I was thinking,” she began, slowly chewing without looking at him. Elain was afraid he’d tell her no—already she could feel him stiffen beside her. “That when this is all over, I might…stay?”

There was nothing but the sound of the sea below them and the wind rustling the sails.

“Stay?”

“Yeah…ah…with you?”

“Stay with me.” He was merely repeating what she’d said, his voice toneless. “Elain—”

“Lucien, please—”

“You can’t stay—”

“I don’t want that life,” she interrupted, scrambling to her feet. Her orange fell to the deck, splattering citrusy juice between the pair of them. “It was all chosen for me. It doesn’t matter if I’m in London or I’m in New York, the result is the same. Everyone knows better, knows what I want and I need, but this, Lucien…this is what I need.”

He rose slowly to his feet, stretching his long body out as he stared unblinkingly back at her. 

“I need you,” she added, wondering if that made her pathetic. She barely knew him, and knew that if he left, it would be a loss she’d mourn for the rest of her life. She’d always be sitting at the window, wondering where he was. If he was okay.

If he missed her.

“Elain,” he whispered, his voice strangely fragmented. “You don’t understand—”

“I do,” she insisted. If he was going to tell her no, let it be because he didn’t care for her. Not because he was trying to do right by her. “You saved me.”

His mouth crashed against hers before Elain could take a breath. He was just as warm as he always was, lips soft as he kissed her insistently. His hands slid into her tangled hair before one arm wound its way around her waist, holding her close. Elain surged up on her tiptoes, her kissing clumsy as she got the hang of things.

It didn’t take a lot of skill, truthfully. He groaned even at her clumsy attempts, holding her so tight Elain couldn’t possibly escape. She wanted to get lost in the feel of his lips against her, stomach tightening when his teeth nipped at her bottom lip. 

More, more, more. 

It would never be enough and she knew it. Elain didn’t care if it wasn’t proper or if having this man would ruin her. Maybe this was all she’d get—one night with him before he firmly told her no, admitted that he had a family or a wife somewhere and she was merely a distraction he couldn’t afford.

Maybe she’d shove him overboard if that was true.

Lucien hauled her up in his arms as if she were weightless, carrying her below deck not to the rooms that ought to belong to her, but to his cabin before slamming the door closed with his foot. Lucien laid her on the bed, standing at the edge to look at her. 

“If I cannot stay,” she whispered, watching as he untucked his shirt, “then join me on land instead.”

He tossed the fabric to the floor, revealing the golden brown of his muscular skin. “Join you on land?” he whispered, kicking his boots off, too. Elain followed suit, using her elbows to crawl up the bed backward so her head hit the pillow. 

“Come back with me,” she all but begged. Lucien silenced her with his mouth again, parting her legs with an insistent knee. This was an easier way to communicate. All she had to do was touch him. Elain had never had a man like this before, and gliding her hand down the smooth expanse of his back was thrilling. She let her fingers touch from his shoulders to the band of his pants and back again while Lucien ground himself into her, expressing his enjoyment the only way he knew how.

Elain, too, found herself desperate for more. Her hands managed to wedge between them, finding the buttons on his pants. Lucien choked, nipping her bottom lip as he drew back. “Slow down,” he whispered frantically, peering between them. She didn’t stop, slipping the button loose with one hand. A trail of dark, auburn hair trailing from his navel downward appeared, and if she’d been bolder, she might have pushed him to his back to truly examine him.

She wasn’t, though. Shyness stole over her at the bulge and the realization that if she pushed even a little, she’d have a wholly naked man laying on top of her. 

Lucien kissed her again when he realized she wasn’t going to fully undress her. His tongue slid into her mouth, licking and tasting until Elain was arching into his erection, desperate for friction. So lost in pleasure, she hadn’t realized he’d begun unbuttoning her dress until she felt his mouth trail down her neck to her exposed breasts.

“Up,” he whispered, and Elain did as she was told, rising upward so Lucien could push the sleeves from her shoulders. He was the one to bare her, first, his pants unbuttoned but still covering him. Elain practically panted when he sank to his haunches for a moment to really look down at her.

There was something beyond lust gleaming back at her. Something she recognized, the same emotion that had caused her to ask him to let her stay. Elain’s heart soared—he was going to say yes. At the end of it all, Lucien was going to let her remain on the ship with her. They’d go to port, she’d assure her sisters were safe, and then she’d run off with the dashing sailor before anyone could stop her. There was nothing in her way. They could always come back someday, when he was tired of roaming and when Elain was satisfied she’d seen the world.

Lucien’s mouth trailing between her breasts dragged Elain back to the present. He was watching, both metal and real eyes fixed wholly on her. Before he could slip away, she pulled his hair from its piece of cloth, allowing it to cascade over his powerful shoulders. He smiled, beautiful as always, before pressing more kisses against the flat of her stomach.

Elain was holding her breath, afraid to seem too eager. That seemed unseemly for a woman, though she was. Propriety be damned, she knew what he was planning—she wasn’t a nun, after all. She heard women talk, knew, generally, what went down between men and women in the bedroom. She’d always been curious about all of it.

What would it feel like to have his mouth on her?

He was about to show her. Lucien hesitated for a moment, pushing her boneless legs apart with ease. She would have spread them for him if she hadn’t been afraid he’d think less of her. There was no nerves, no fear—she trusted him to do right by her. 

He lifted her leg, peppering kisses from her ankle to her thigh before swapping, never taking his eyes off her. Did she want her to beg? Elain felt as if she’d done enough of that for the day—for a lifetime, really. She thought he might do it again, looking up at the swaying wooden ceiling just for him to lick clean up the center of her. Elain gasped, nearly kicking him between the legs in her surprise.

Whatever she’d expected, it felt nothing like the reality. His mouth was wet and soft, tongue practiced. He reached for her breasts, teasing and toying as he took slow, languid licks. It was as if he were enjoying himself, trying to draw it all out. Elain could scarcely breathe, her insides too big for the skin containing her. She felt as if she might fly into a million pieces as pleasure built hotter and higher with each pass of his tongue.

Lucien teased the entrance of her body with his thumb, barely pushing himself in. Elain gasped, arching so hard into his face she wasn’t convinced he could breathe. His other hand fell from her breast to yank her tighter, all semblance of control abandoned. He licked like a wild animal, desperate and frantic until Elain was careening toward the precipice. She chanted his name, trying to get him to slow back down, but Lucien wouldn’t hear it. 

Elain wasn’t graceful or elegant when she came. With her hand grasping his hair, she practically rode his face, shamefully wanton, though she didn’t care. He let her, gasping only when she pushed away, suddenly overly sensitive. As she tried to catch her breath, to banish the brightness pricking at her vision, Lucien shucked off his pants and returned to her, kissing her greedily.

“I need you,” he whispered against her jaw. Weak sunlight poured through the window, illuminating his rigid, large cock pressed against her wet entrance. 

“I’m yours,” she replied. 

That was all the convincing it took for him to slide himself inch by wonderful inch into her body. It seemed to stretch on forever, the slow acclimation of adjustment to having something lodged inside her. Elain squeezed the first time just to try and shift a little of the discomfort, which caused Lucien to exhale a breath so forcefully that she had no choice but to do it again.

And again.

His eyes rolled upward. “If you keep it up, I won’t last but a minute.”

“There’s time,” she assured him.

His eyes found hers, earning her a messy kiss rather than any kind of helpful or reassuring response. Burying his face into her neck, he rocked his hips forward, causing pleasure to spike through her. Each drag of his cock, coupled with his lips against her skin, caused a different sort of pleasure. One that took a little longer, but burned hotter. Elain was gasping, twisting and writhing beneath him as any semblance of civility was erased, leaving only the creature in his bed.

He didn’t complain. “You’re so good,” he whispered, dragging his lips over her jaw. “So tight. Is this what you want? To stay here? With me?” His words trailed into a loud groan drowned by the sea around them. Elain could only pant the same word over and over.

Yes, yes, yes.

Elain came mere moments before Lucien, breaking apart so thoroughly that she was certain there was no coming back from it. She could be pieced back together but the fragments would also show, etched in glittering gold against her skin.

“Forgive me,” he whispered before he, too, came with what felt like the same passionate violence. Elain might have forgotten his plea in the aftermath, sated and boneless as he collapsed on top of her. There was nothing to forgive, nothing he could say that would change her mind.

Lucien held her against him, fingers stroking her hair as they laid beneath the sheets. For a long time, neither of them spoke. Elain had questions that slipped from her as she slept, hand pressed to his bare chest.

The blinding light had returned, drowning out whatever pleasant dreams there was to be had with heat so scorching she woke in a thin sheen of sweat. 

Lucien was there, sitting on the edge of the bed and fully dressed. With his back to her, shoulders slumped, he said, “It’s time, Elain.” Her stomach clenched. “We’ve arrived?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Elain.”

“Lucien,” she pleaded, but he stood, offering her the same hand he’d once offered to pull her from the water. Elain took it, surprised and frustrated to find she was back in her night dress. When had she put that on? 

“I don’t want to leave.”

“You have to make a choice, Elain,” he said, his voice dripping with anguish. “It’s time.”

Clutching his hand, Elain let him lead her barefoot from the cabin they’d slept in. There was no noise on the ship—only the blackest night that seemed to infest every space of the ship. It was almost as bad as the biting cold that swirled around them.

“Lucien,” she pleaded, but he held fast, taking her up the steps and back.

Back to the night before he’d found her. Elain balked, but Lucien didn’t relent, taking her to the edge where she watched herself, clumsy and freezing, claw her way up the capsized life raft. Time moved strangely, almost silently despite the echoing, screaming fears that bounced through her skull. 

And Elain watched as her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted and blue. Her chest rose and fell.

The ship slipped beneath the waves.

And Elain’s body went still, one hand sliding into the water unnoticed, fingers skimming the icy surface. She turned to face him. She understood, then, what she'd been too scared to acknowledge the day he'd pulled her from the water. Her sisters had survived, but she had not. And he had come to ferry her into the afterlife.

“I’m here to take you home,” he said, gesturing around them. The night faded, and in its stead, a blinding, bright light emerged. For a moment the ship itself vanished—everything did, leaving her suspended in a great nothing. Her only anchor was his hand still gripping hers.

“Elain.”

It was her mothers voice. Her mothers face, shining and beautiful, unmarred by the cholera that had taken her from Elain when she’d been a child. Beside her stood Elain’s father, beaming as he was so often in her memories. “Elain, come home with us.”

She was rooted in place, breathing so hard she could have choked on it. “Mommy?”

She took a half step forward, pulled back by Lucien who pressed a kiss to her forehead. Cupping her face, he whispered, “I would have stayed with you. Forever,” he added, as if she didn’t know that. 

Elain turned again, back into the warmth where her parents waited. 

“Are you happy?” she heard herself ask them. 

They beckoned for her, and some part wanted to go, too. Wanted to see them again, to bury her face in her fathers shirt and inhale the scent of spearmint and tobacco. To tell them how much she missed them and how she wished they could have stayed longer. 

Elain took a step back. And another. And another.

Until she was back in the gray mist with Lucien, the light fading behind her. “If you don’t go—”

“I’ll stay. With you,” she added, looking, now, at him wholly. “I’ll ferry the souls of the dead with you.”

Lucien cupped her face gently. “Are you sure?”

But she’d been sure the night before. And Elain was sure then, too. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, Elain nodded.

“Forever.”

[kakushino]

Hiiiii Desikinnnsss~~ Could I pretty please have number 10, hurt/comfort with Gyutaro? SFW preferably with a fem reader?

𝕷𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓

𝟷𝟶𝟶𝟶 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱

AN: Gendered terms aren't really used but I guess it's implied considering reader is ex-geisha-to-be. I hope this motivates you to work on Fixation~

kenban = office of a red light district (they set prices for services etc) | ageya = meetings between clients and geisha with entertainment | okiya = geisha house | hanamachi = geisha district (~red light district in this) | okaa-san = woman in charge of an okiya (literally mother) | oiran = high ranking geisha (sex is included in the list of services)

The red light district was alive and thriving; music, songs, and the courtesans inviting men into their establishments created a masterful symphony no artist could capture - save you, Gyuutaro would say. 

Since meeting him properly, you’d risen from the ranks of prostitutes-to-be into the House’s artist, creating artworks to be sold at ageya organised by the kenban. This, of course, led to jealousy from the side of the other women of your okiya and overall hanamachi.

However, the freedom to pursue your passion and spend time with Gyuutaro made you happy, too happy to notice the discontent.

You carried your purchases in a straw basket on your back as you walked through the street, nodding to regulars and waving at a friendly okaa-san from another House. The entrance to your okiya was crowded, likely because Warabihime deigned to show her charm in the main hall, letting customers take a peek at her beauty. The tetchy oiran shot you a look as you tip-toed by, as if telling you something, but you couldn’t decipher the message.

Your room was located in the very back, and the second you entered it was the moment you understood.

Your most beautiful kimono, the one your lover had gifted you, laid in tatters on the floor. 

Your heart broke at seeing the destruction of your precious property, second only to the hair ornament you received from Warabihime’s collection. 

Who could have done that? Who would dare?

Your basket fell to the side, art supplies spilling out, forgotten. 

“What is this?” a raspy voice rang through the hallway before you could truly process what you were seeing. You hadn’t moved from the door of your room. Your muscles tensed. If he saw what happened-

But you couldn’t exactly hide it from him, especially since he walked up to you - and he towered over everyone, it wasn’t hard to see over your shoulder.

“Someone-” your voice broke, overwhelmed with feelings, “destroyed the kimono you gave me,” you finished in a wispy whisper. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you shut your mouth, well aware if you gave names, they would not be alive to see the sunrise again.

Silence reigned for a few seconds. “You know who did it.” Of course he could tell. 

You walked up to the carnage, kneeling by the heap of silk, mourning it, and mourning the lives as good as lost. “...no.” 

“Look me in the eye and say it again,” Gyuutaro demanded roughly. Despite his tone, he was nothing but gentle turning your head to look up at him as he stood over you. He looked angry, you hadn’t ever seen him as angry as he was now. 

“Please…” you nearly wept, softening the demon in front of you. 

Gyuutaro quickly lowered himself to your level, pulling you into his arms. Now was not the time for murder, he reminded himself. Your warm body was shivering in his embrace, a transgression even greater than the ruined kimono in his eyes. 

He’d get to the bottom of this, and then it was over for those bitches. He was willing to bet Daki would help, if only because the fabric was too pretty to be ruined over jealousy.

They would pay.

[lvrdrafts]

Rescued by Love Part 3

★ Summary: Your brother Steve always hated you after your mother's death and when he finally gets the family's empire he is ready to sell you off to some toxic marriage but will the knight and shining armor save you or make it worse?

★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

★ Warnings: Arranged Marriage

★ Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Masterlist

The transition from your childhood home to Bucky's mansion felt like stepping into a different world. The ornate decor and vast rooms were a far cry from the modest surroundings you were accustomed to. As you unpacked your belongings, the air seemed to carry a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

One evening, as the soft glow of the setting sun cast warm hues across the room, Bucky found you standing by the window. His presence was like a shadow, his steps quiet as he joined you.

"Y/N," he started, his voice a mix of hesitation and sincerity, "I want you to know that I never intended for things to be this way."

You turned to him, uncertainty clouding your gaze. "Then why did you agree to this arrangement, Bucky?"

He sighed, his gaze averted for a moment before meeting yours. "It's complicated. There are things... expectations that I can't ignore."

Your heart sank at his words, the gravity of the situation becoming clearer. "You mean, being a housewife and having children."

Bucky's expression softened, regret evident in his eyes. "It's more than that, Y/N. I'm trying to protect you, in my own messed-up way. But playing the role is.. its on the list"

The weight of his words settled upon you, a reminder that your identity had been reduced to that of a housewife, devoid of agency or aspirations. You felt your voice falter as you spoke. "Is that all I am to you, Bucky? A role to play?"

His eyes seemed to harden, the distance between you growing more tangible. "It's a role that benefits both of us. There's no point in pretending otherwise." Bucky says walking away.

The isolation settled in like an unwelcome guest, the mansion's halls echoing with a silence that seemed to underscore your solitude. Days blurred into one another, marked by routines that grew monotonous. The mansion became a symphony of routines, from managing the household to preparing meals that you hoped Bucky would enjoy. Your attempts to prepare meals went unnoticed, the table often empty as Bucky's absence stretched into hours.

The hours slipped away, the warmth of the meal gradually turning cold. When Bucky finally walked in, his exhaustion was evident, his gaze weary yet conflicted.

When he finally walked in one evening, exhaustion etched into his features, you found yourself facing a moment of truth. The meal you had prepared lay untouched on the table, a visual representation of the growing void between you. The sight of a hickey on his neck was a dagger to your heart, the sting of jealousy and hurt almost overwhelming.

"You're home late," you managed to say, your voice a mixture of accusation and vulnerability.

Bucky's eyes flicked to the untouched meal, his jaw clenching momentarily. "I got caught up in work."

The tension in the room was palpable, unspoken words heavy in the air. Accusations and retorts seemed to dance on the tip of your tongue, but it was the realization that your relationship had deteriorated beyond repair that cut deepest.

As the conversation escalated, your emotions erupted like a tempest. "Is this what we've become, Bucky? Strangers passing each other in the hallway, playing house without any semblance of connection?"

Bucky's gaze remained fixed on the ground, his emotions masked by a veneer of indifference. "You knew the terms of this arrangement from the beginning."

The words echoed in the room, a bitter reminder of your lack of agency in this situation. "Yes, I remember the terms, be a maid and have kids" you replied, your voice carrying a tinge of bitterness. "But it wasn't a choice, Bucky. I didn't agree willingly; I was forced"

Bucky's eyes hardened, his expression unforgiving. "We all make sacrifices. This is the life we've chosen."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you met his gaze, a mixture of frustration and pain in your voice. "But I didn't choose this. I didn't choose to be treated as a prisoner in this fucking cage."

He turned to face you fully, his gaze cold and unyielding. "Don't play the victim, Y/N. You knew what you were getting into."

"I can't give you something I don't have. I won't pretend for your sake. This is our arrangement, and you will abide by it, that's final"

The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. "Really is it really so much to ask for a bit of care? Or that you pretend your not cheating on me? Or is that too much to expect?"

Bucky's features darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Watch your words, Y/N. You're playing a dangerous game."

The tension between you was palpable, the unspoken resentments and long-buried desires bubbling to the surface. "So, this is our fate? A loveless marriage, a distant husband, and a life that's become a hell?"

Bucky's restraint snapped, his expression twisted with rage. "Enough, Y/N! You can't pretend you didn't know what this was all about! Your brother made damn sure of that!"

Fury ignited within you, burning through the fear that had held you captive for too long. "Fuck you, Bucky," you spat, your voice trembling with a mix of rage and desperation. You turned on your heel and walked away, determined not to let him see the tears welling up in your eyes.

But as you moved to leave, Bucky's grip on your wrist was like a vise, his fingers digging into your skin. A gasp escaped your lips as he left behind a painful mark, a physical reminder of the power he held over you. You winced, struggling against his hold, but his grip only tightened.

"Bucky, let go!" you cried out, a mixture of pain and fear coursing through you.

He released you, his jaw clenched, his eyes cold and unrelenting. With a rough push, he shoved you, and you stumbled, unable to maintain your balance. The force of his actions sent you crashing to the floor, pain shooting through your body as you hit the ground.

"Sleep on the damn couch tonight," he bit out, his voice seething with anger as he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, aching both physically and emotionally.

The couch felt like a cold and unforgiving bed as you lay there, tears staining your cheeks as you tried to make sense of the shattered pieces of your life. You needed to find a way out.

★

The morning light spilled into the kitchen, illuminating the room as you moved around, preparing breakfast with a sense of quiet resignation. The clinking of utensils and the sizzle of food filled the air, a routine you had grown accustomed to. As you set the plates on the table, Bucky's presence entered the room, his demeanor more cold and irritated than usual.

"Morning," you greeted softly, the tension between you practically palpable.

Bucky grunted in response, his eyes scanning the table briefly before landing on you. "We need to talk."

You tensed, your heart beating a little faster. His abruptness was unsettling, and you braced yourself for whatever news he was about to deliver.

"I'm leaving on a business trip," he stated curtly, his tone devoid of any warmth.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden announcement. "A business trip?"

He nodded, his jaw tight. "Yes, for about a month."

"During my absence," he continued, his gaze unwavering, "you are not allowed to leave the house."

The words hung in the air, a heavy decree that seemed to echo with finality. You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness, the walls of the mansion closing in around you.

"But Bucky, I..." you started, your voice tinged with a mix of defiance and desperation.

He cut you off, his irritation was evident in his tone. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Y/N. This is not up for negotiation."

Anger simmered within you, but it was the realization of your powerlessness that hit you the hardest. The isolation, the restrictions – they were a stark reminder of the gilded cage you found yourself in.

"I have my own life, my own dreams," you retorted, the bitterness in your voice impossible to mask.

Bucky's gaze hardened, his jaw clenched. "This is not the time for your idealistic notions, Y/N."

The exchange left an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air, the weight of your conflicting emotions settling heavily upon you. You pushed back your frustration, not wanting to provoke him further, not wanting to feel the repercussions of his anger.

As the minutes ticked by, you realized the futility of arguing. The walls seemed to close in around you, the mansion's rooms feeling more suffocating than ever.

Bucky pushed his chair back, his expression unreadable. "I've said what I needed to say. Make sure you follow the rules while I'm gone."

He stood up, and as he walked over to the counter to pour himself a mug of coffee, you couldn't help but feel his gaze linger on you. You felt a flush of discomfort, your instinct to hide the evidence of last night's altercation kicking in. You had chosen to wear long sleeves in an attempt to cover up the bruise he had unknowingly left on your wrist.

For a moment, his eyes seemed to narrow, his gaze drawn to your attempt at concealment. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the table instead, your heart pounding in your chest. He reached for his coffee, his fingers brushing against the handle of the mug as his voice broke the silence.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow," he said, his tone still cold and distant. "There are some things you need to take care of while I'm gone. I'll leave you a list."

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The tension in the room felt suffocating, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You could feel his gaze on you, an unspoken awareness that hung heavy in the air. The weight of your bruises, both physical and emotional, seemed to press down on you as he left the room without another word.

Taglist:

@cjand10 @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @hereticdance @kentokaze @bruher @tupperwarefullofdirt @unaxv @learisa @emerald-writes @aya-fay @stinkerbelle007 @scifinerd1818 @paarthurnax59

[himegureisu]

The Yule Ball [PTII]

Summary: The Yule Ball is about to commence and you arrive in the nick of time.

<< PREV

——————————— 🪄———————————

On Christmas Eve, in the sparkling silver frost of the Great Hall, students’ conversations come to a hush at the sight of their Potions Professor.

His usually greasy hair was clean and silky smooth. On the other hand, an open black double-breasted tailcoat, black vest, black high-collared dress shirt, black pants, and shiny black shoes replaced his daily robes.

It was different. Conservative but also very appealing.

Especially for the female students. Their grumpy Professor so pleasing in the ladies’ eyes has the boys reminding them why they didn’t like him in the first place. Their giggles and murmurs didn’t stop though, and one thought it would be the best if the scowl on his face disappeared, but alas, they could not make miracles happen.

“Would you look at that?”

“Is that truly Professor Snape?”

“Bloody hell,” Ron mutters under his breath, “Even the old dungeon bat looks better than I do,”

In a procession, the champions walk through the oak doors accompanied by their chosen partners, disrupting the comments,, and enter the Great Hall. Their thunderous claps and ever-so-curious gazes shift at the sight of Hermione Granger on Victor Krum’s arm allowing a moment of vulnerability for you.

In their distraction, from a tunnel behind the pine trees, you emerge behind the Headmaster, Severus none the wiser at your arrival, as he speaks.

“I will keep this short because you all might be sick of hearing from me,” the headmaster quips, and the Hogwarts students laugh, “This evening, I hope that every one of us creates meaningful connections and enjoys the feast. However, before we start, I would also like to welcome a special guest.”

Their students were truly the worst gossips as whispers started once again speculating who the special guest could be, making the stories known to their Durmstrang and Beauxbatons friends.

“I’m glad that you’re here and I am very much eager to indulge in your future antics,” Dumbledore smiles, saying nothing further, and turns, “If you’d please, Filius,”

Their students are curious and confused, a rather deadly combination, at the lack of information from their wily Professor as the orchestra starts the song. The sound of string instruments soon echoes throughout the space as the waltz begins.

On the floor, champions lead their partners through the beginnings of the waltz. Their audience is divided between finding the mystery guest and watching their friends glide seamlessly across the room.

In minutes, the headmaster nudges their Transfiguration Professor, who happily accepts the offer and joins the throng of dancing students, on the floor. His absence allows you to stand beside your husband whose gaze remains afront.

“Don’t you look dashing?” you say, breaking the silence among the staff, “I hope you saved me a dance?”

His gaze shifts at the sound of your voice. His eyes quickly take a once over of you. In your sage green dress that highlighted the very best of your features. Your hair in a braided half updo and holly pin presented simple but elegant.

“They’re only for you,” he answers, raising his hand for you to take, “Shall we?”

“On your lead,”

Onto the fray together, the students not so quietly observe. His hands, on your waist and outstretched hand, lead you to the floor. However, closer than appropriate for students, he whispers in your ear.

“You’re determined to do this?”

“I’d like for them to see what I see in you,” you cup his cheek, your gaze on his as the scowl slowly melts away, “Even just for a bit,”

He sighed in defeat.

Your gazes lock on each other, his steps slow but confident guide you through the symphony. In his embrace, the world blends to the background. To the awe of the crowd, a soft smile settles on his lips, his grip, however, tightened and your merry bubble pops at the sight of his restrained ire at the students who admired you from afar.

“You are the only one I desire,” you breathed, cheeks flushed and eyes only on him, as the veins on the side of his head vanished, “No one else can ever compare,”

His eyes softened at your words, breaking through his facade for the night. By the end of the dance, he places a protective hand on your back and gently leads you through. His form towers over you, briefly leaning on your ear to whisper.

“Being with you feels like a dream,” his voice barely audible as you weave through the people, “That I don’t want to end,”

“It will not end,” you declare, as you finally see his colleagues, and some others you don’t know, “We’ll see through it,”

The Headmaster smiles, at the sight of your hands entwined together, as you approach the faculty and guests. Minerva steps up much faster than the rest and says.

“I’m glad you could make it, dear,” she also smiles, as Severus stands behind you, “You two were lovely out there,”

“Were we?” you coyly ask, glancing at Severus, who resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “I didn’t notice. I’m glad I didn’t trip,”

“I would’ve caught you if you did,” Severus declared, as the others approached, and from there Madam Maxime interjected, “Severus! Who is the lovely lady?”

“Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, this is my wife, Madame Snape,” he introduces you, as you shake friendly hands, “At the moment, she works for the Ministry of Magic,”

“Oh!” the tall lady exclaimed, as Minerva cut the conversation, “I hate to break up this introduction, however, we must be seated for dinner,”

“Of course, Minerva, lead the way,”

In a flash, she transformed into her role as Deputy Headmistress, and seats you beside Severus and her, but also near the Headmaster and the new staff that hasn’t met you. Your friendly smile was a stark difference from the unimpressed line that formed on your husband’s lips.

“Will you be staying the night?” Minerva asks, as you observe Albus who spoke of what he wanted for dinner and it appeared, and answered, “Yes, the headmaster was kind to allow me to stay in the castle for Christmas break,”

“Did he?” Severus said as he looked at you, “Headmaster?”

“Merry Christmas, Severus,” Dumbledore grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously at the light, as Severus exhaled, “Thank you, headmaster,”

“Do enjoy the feast,” Albus said, “There is more to come,”

On his words, you and Severus briefly give each other a look before shrugging it off, oblivious to the utter madness that would transpire once you left the Great Hall for much more amorous and festive pursuits.

There would be time to get to know the students during the break. However, a part of you admits that you were partial to your husband's little snakes.

But they didn't know that.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of angsty omegaverse One Direction fics as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave the writers kudos and comments! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

— Louis/Harry —

💔 Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings

(M, E, 239k, Louis/Harry, Zayn/Liam) Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.

💔 Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere

(E, 124k, hurt/comfort) “That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

💔 Strawberries & Cigarettes by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes

(E, 76k, exes) Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

💔 These High Walls by LarryAlways28

(E, 68k, musician Louis) Harry was raised exactly as a Styles heir should be: sharp as a tack, witty, charming, and powerful. He was the ideal son - until he presented as an Omega.

💔  Maybe You’ll Like the Way I Am by @lululawrence

(NR, 55k, accidental bonding) When Louis’ alpha neighbor asks him to pretend to be his omega for a week, Louis immediately says no.

💔 Your Gift is Wasted On Me by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(NR, 54k, neighbors) Omega Louis has severe touch deprivation and is averse to touch. But he’s fine. Really.

💔 Bear with me by 28sunflowers / @vintageumbroshirt​  

(E, 46k, omega/omega) But try as they might, the one fact that remains true is that children don’t save broken relationships. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.

💔 Wild Hearts Run Free by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 42k, secrets) When fate and Mother Nature conspire to trap the two strangers together, will Harry’s worst fears be proven, or will Louis find a way to break down his walls and lead him into the light?

💔 Canyon Moon by delsicle / @eeveedel

(E, 40k, Lion King au) For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

💔 Follow Your Arrow by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 36k, canon) They said Louis playing alpha wouldn’t affect anything. It was the best thing for the band, so he doesn’t really regret it except deep in the dead of night, when he bites down on his knuckles to swap the echoing ache of depri for a sting of pain.

💔 Too Young To Know by @2tiedships2

(M, 35k, exes to lovers) the one where Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

💔 Compass to my Soul by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 31k, canon) Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.

💔 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou

(E, 31k, accidental bonding) If that had been his life, his goal, Louis would feel pretty good about himself now. As it is…Louis feels like shit.

💔  Sisterwives by @jaerie 

(E, 32k, omega/omega) Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.

💔 Compete Against the Stars by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 30k, uni) An A/B/O au where Louis finds out he's claimed to another Alpha. Angst ensues.

💔 The Risen (series) by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 28k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

💔  tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale

(E, 20k, mpreg) the one where Harry is having Louis’ baby, but Louis doesn’t know it’s his

💔  Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(T, 18k, uni) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

💔 No Easy Love (Could Make Me Feel This Way) by @allwaswell16

(E, 17k, exes) an Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry au where they get a second chance to make things right with the love of their life.

💔 With love comes strange currencies by mediaville

(E, 16k, canon) They're Accidentally Mated and Dealing With It Rather Badly.

💔 Him & I by @notasawrap

(NR, 8k, mpreg) Louis thinks Harry has a lover and he's willing to let's Harry go to be happy with someone else even if it hurts the three of them.

💔 A Silver Lining In A Storm (You Were Lightning, I Was Born) by @fallinglikethis

(E, 6k, arranged marriage) Omega Prince Harry had always known that he was going to have an arranged marriage. But after the death of his first fiancé, a man who turned out far worse than Harry thought possible, his subsequent marriage to the man's brother leaves Harry finding it difficult to trust that everything will work out.

💔 lucky once, could be lucky again by @jaerie

(E, 2k, famous/not famous) Louis has been letting the rich and famous knot him for cash since he found himself walking out on the lavish lifestyle of his rockstar future mate.

— Rare Pairs —

💔 Pride by iwanttowriteyouafic

(E, 86k, Zayn/Liam)  the one where Zayn and Liam strike a deal to help each other through their dirtiest nights, but Zayn's perception of alphas may be preventing him from something purer

[letsquestjess]

My Symphony - Part 1 (Tech x GN!Reader)

Summary: After Tech hears you playing music, he can't help but listen, slowly falling for the musician tugging on his heartstrings.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: Putting an 18+ / MDNI on this one since there is a slightly heated bit in the middle. Mentions of injury and death. Set pre-order 66.

A/N: This one has been quite long in the making but I finally got it finished. Enjoy!

Part 2

-- -- -- -- --

Mumbling quietly to himself as he reviewed his daily schedule, Tech made his way down the blinding white corridor, scratching absently at the itch on his chin. His brothers had already fallen behind on their duties, so he reorganised the items to accommodate any contingencies.

Wrecker usually spends an extra twenty minutes in the mess hall around this time of week, he contemplated, analysing the pattern of delays from previous weeks. And Crosshair and Hunter are still occupied by their disagreement over the bunk situation. Deep ridges settled between his brows and he clicked his tongue. 

The end room emitted a delicate melody, tender notes muffled by the room’s sound insulation. He paused by the partially open door and stole a glimpse of what was inside. Rooms in this section of the city were mostly abandoned, but a staff member sat at the Pantoran spinet, pressing at the instrument and mollifying a lullaby in a tempered arrangement of tones and pitches.

Music ebbed and flowed in perfect rhythm, and Tech lowered his datapad. As you focused your attention on creating that blissful sound, your eyes danced from key to key, and a serene smile formed on your lips. Mellow harmonies merged to create a soothing theme that eased his worries and allayed his brilliant, yet always racing, mind. 

A set of footsteps approached, and springing into motion, he darted away from the soft sounds and headed for the simulation centre to wait for his brothers. 

But the harmony never left him. In the weeks that followed, he still felt the vibrations in his chest and often found himself humming your tune as he tinkered with his latest project. Your music had built a home in his mind, haunting him in the most welcomed way possible, and he purposely began taking the same route to linger outside whenever you played. At first, he wondered if the instrument’s frequency had hypnotic qualities, but after conducting some thorough research into the matter, he concluded that it simply had a pacifying effect on him. 

Finding some free time after lunch, he made his usual trek to the training facility and slowed at the euphoric vibration filling the vacant corridor. Rather than checking through the door as he normally did, he opted to sit on the floor outside and let the music wash over him, eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his head against the wall. Every shift and lull caressed him, whispering sweet words and-

“Tech?”

He bolted upright as soon as he saw Hunter looming over him with folded arms and a lifted eyebrow. 

“What are you doing?” his brother asked, amused. 

“I was… I was merely…” Tech prepared to fire his excuses, but the rich melody behind him continued to play, continued to turn every rational thought to mush. As it stopped and the door slid open, he was saved from one embarrassing situation and launched into another, whirling round and coming face to face with the musician he’d been admiring for weeks. He shoved his goggles up to the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. 

You smiled apologetically at the two clones and scanned the deserted corridor outside. “I wasn’t playing too loud, was I? Didn’t think many people came this way.” 

“No, of course not, we were…” Seeking to ignore the knowing smirk his brother aimed at him, Tech stood up straight. “I overheard you several weeks ago. You are exceptionally skilled.”

A breath snagged at the compliment, and ignoring the flush of heat rising, you stepped aside, inviting them into the hushed hum. “If you have some time, you’re both more than welcome to come in and listen.”

“I have places to be,” Hunter stated, “but I’m sure Tech would love to take you up on that offer.”

The clone in question nodded, his jaw clenching against the urge to reprimand his brother for his behaviour. He made a mental note to have a stern conversation with him about it later. 

As Hunter strolled away with a tickled grin plastered on his face, you prompted Tech into the room and encouraged him towards the array of chairs. Introducing yourself, you slid onto the cushioned bench behind the spinet. “I didn’t realise anybody came here anymore,” you said. “I thought this part of the city was mostly used for storage.” 

“It is, but I discovered a route that gets me to the training facility three minutes quicker,” Tech replied. 

“And it leads you right past here?”

“Precisely.” He chose the seat closest to you and scanned over the assortment of badges on your left sleeve. “You work in the data department.” 

“Mostly archives,” you sighed, arranging the sheet music and selecting one from the middle. “It can get pretty boring in there but occasionally something interesting shows up.” 

With a slight shrug, you began to play, hands floating up and down, and back again to inspire the instrument to sing. The song started peacefully, affectionately, like a friendly explorer coaxing a frightened animal out of hiding. An impassioned lilt of treble notes soared and Tech hung onto every alteration in sound, eyebrows lifting of their own volition as though to follow the stirring rise. 

You suppressed a grin at the reverie in his gaze. It had been a while since you’d had an audience, and never one as enraptured as this.  

* * *

After your initial meeting, Tech became a regular visitor, often finding reasons to stop by and listen while you played. He conducted his research while in your melodious company, and you quickly found a sense of ease in his presence, admiring his directness and his curiosity. 

“Would you like to sit with me?” you asked one rainy afternoon, the elements battering on the ceiling. His eyes flicked up from his datapad and the amber speckles glistened at the proposition. 

“I assumed you would need adequate space in order to play comfortably,” he said. 

“There’s plenty of room for you, me and the music,” you jested, tapping the vacant spot next to you on the bench. 

He approached with a hint of hesitation, but seeing that you could still perform unhindered by his closeness, he relaxed and observed in fascination. Up close, he distinguished each keystroke and the length of the notes as you held them in place, assisting them to shine just a little longer. He was accustomed to the cacophony of war, to blaster fire and the shrieks of the fleeing and dying, but your music sounded like pure starlight and the notion warmed him. 

“If you want, I can teach you a few basics,” you said, pausing your pleasing tune. He responded with a keen nod, and you helped him position his gloved digits over the lower level of keys, encouraging him to apply a gentle pressure. “Now, go up a set. That’s it. And up again.” Step by step, you instructed him from one end of the spinet to the other in a series of precise scales and the odd false note. “Okay, keep that going.” 

A graceful composition sparked from your fingertips as they glided effortlessly across the top level to harmonise with his rhythm. Concentration occupied his expression, but you picked up on the hint of a grin at your united effort. 

As you finished your song on the lower set of keys, his thumb grazed yours, light and controlled. No longer focused on the music, his reverent gaze fixed onto you. 

Instinct drove his movements, shaky hands abandoning the musical instrument to find the curve of your waist and cradle your cheek. Seconds ticked by endlessly in a palpable silence. As though a switch had flipped, he abruptly retreated. Alarmed, his demeanour coiled in on itself and his leg bounced. 

“I apologise, I am not sure what came over me,” he said, embarrassment blossoming pink on the tips of his ears. 

“It’s okay, Tech.” You guided him to your waist and your cheek again, and he melted into your touch. “I’ve been thinking the same. Wanting the same.” His guard slowly eased, but you sensed the vulnerability in his movement. “You can tell me what you want.” Noting him struggling to form a sound, you leaned a little closer to whisper in his ear, “Or you could show me if that’s easier.” 

An endearing furrow scrunched at his eyebrows, and you almost saw the thoughts circulating, calculating his next step. He gradually raised his eyes and held them steady, determined not to look away this time. The scent of standard issue shampoo welcomed you into his space and you set a tender kiss on his cheek, letting him adapt to the experience. Like a tightly wound coil snapping, he was on you. 

Hesitancy vanished as he surrendered wholeheartedly to his desire to feel you. Eyes squeezed shut, he studied every fluctuation of your lips as though it was his only purpose, to chart the gradual developments, the tender, the passionate, the clambering, urgent need to be part of each other. 

The datapad on the sheet music stand beeped and Tech detangled himself from your comforting embrace with a grumble, shooting the infernal device a cursory glance. “A briefing has been called.”

From the way he pursed his lips, you gathered he wasn’t thrilled about going, but you didn’t want to risk him getting into trouble. Certainly not on your behalf. “Go,” you told him. “I will meet you here after dinner. Might even play you some more songs, if you’re lucky.” 

“Already am lucky,” he said in his love-drunk haze, squeezing you close to him and only releasing his grip once you insisted he get going. Gathering his belongings, he gave you one last kiss and headed out into the silent corridor. 

Tech didn’t meet you after dinner. You paced between the instruments and listened to the persistent click of your steps until exhaustion finally led you to your quarters. After sending him a quick message, you tried to settle down for the night, but the quiet was deafening and sleep only came when you were too drained to do anything but rest. 

You woke with a start to the sound of your shrieking alarm, and your heart raced as you fumbled for your datapad, searching for any messages. Inbox empty, you got yourself up and prepared for the day ahead. 

The weeks seemed to blend together in a monotonous blur of loneliness and worry until you received news of Clone Force 99’s disappearance during a covert mission. Upon discovering the reports, you made a beeline for the music room and settled at the spinet in silence. Unable to touch a single key, to hear a note without your fear boiling over, you clamped a hand over your mouth and bawled. Your tears dribbled through your fingers and onto the old instrument, salty droplets mixing with the dust on the peeling redwood. 

After a while, it all became a distant memory, and you stopped visiting altogether. The kiss was vivid in your mind, and you couldn’t help but think about what might have been if you had asked him to stay with you. But wondering about it now would accomplish nothing. What was done was done, and all you could do was wait. 

Bleary-eyed and still half-asleep after another restless night, you traipsed towards the archives and passed a group of clones congregated outside the mess hall, deep in discussion. 

“Yeah, it was definitely Clone Force 99,” a clone said to his brothers. “By the sounds of it, they almost got caught by Seppies. Nasty stuff. Couple were brought back on stretchers. Don’t think they’ll be out of the med bay soon.” 

Your thumping heart drowned out the rest. Everything you had endured over the past month shattered, crashed, burned, hurt more than you could handle, and you hurried along inconspicuously.

It couldn’t be true. Tipoca city was always abuzz with rumours, and this was merely another. But in the recesses of your mind, in the house of all your dread, you saw Tech lying lifeless on a stretcher, transported home through blankets of rain and howling winds. 

You took a diligent breath and straightened your clothes, forcing yourself to slow your flurried steps as you made your way to the medical facility. Beyond the doors, the clone on duty signalled for you to retreat. 

“We have active surgeries going on here,” he said. “Unless you’re hurt or there is an emergency, I can’t help.” 

“No, I…” You could tell he wasn’t going to let you see Tech, and you glimpsed the badges on your sleeve reflecting in the mirror behind his desk. “I work with data management,” you told the medic. “There were some reports about Clone Force 99, but they were scrambled. I was sent to talk to one of them to clarify a few things.” 

“Afraid not,” the clone replied. “Two are in surgery and the other two are getting checked over. I’ll send someone to your department as soon as I can.” 

You refrained from asking for more information about who was in the operating theatre. Instead, you nodded your thanks and departed to the one place you knew held some solace. Darkness hid the instruments and the benches until you switched the lights on. It seemed odd returning after weeks of avoiding it. 

The spinet, untouched since you’d last played it, beckoned you, promised sanctuary and shelter from your pain. As you wriggled to get relaxed on the bench, the smooth discoloured keys tickled your fingertips, cold and forgotten. 

You ran through the practice scales and drove headstrong into the melody that had been haunting you: the tune you’d played almost six months ago when you had found Tech in the hallway and invited him in. Fateful notes mounted and swelled like a gushing river, tearing out of you to expand in the current of song placed earnestly by your hands. Every atom of your soul poured into the music as you rocked forward and your fingers ached from the obstinate pressure. 

“If you keep pressing the keys in that manner, it will wear them down considerably.”

Abruptly halting mid-press, the reverberations deteriorated, and you shot from your seat. Tech’s weary eyes met yours as he braced himself on the door frame. The blotchy red and violet smudges beneath his lower lashes crinkled, and he grappled to keep himself upright.

Without a word, you offered him your arms to lean on and he stumbled into you. You noted the bruises and cuts, the bandage wrapped around his bicep, and the way he limped and leaned to the left. 

In measured movements, you eased him onto the bench and let out a surprised yelp when he tugged you down. “You had me worried,” you said, mindful of his injuries as you nestled into his lap. “I thought… I didn’t know if…” 

Nose nuzzling your neck and arms caging you closer, he gave you a murmured, “I’m sorry.” 

Those whispered words wrenched at your heart and you shook your head at him. “Don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault, and I am just glad you’re okay.” His usually bright eyes stared at you sluggishly and you traced your thumbs along his unscathed jawline. “Are your brothers all right? When I went to the med bay, the medic told me two were in surgery.” 

“Hunter sustained multiple shots to the chest and Wrecker got caught in an explosion,” Tech explained. “I have been assured that they will both recover, but it is going to be a slow process.” 

“And Crosshair?”

“Minor injuries like mine.” 

You wanted to ask more, but all you could think about was his body close to yours, alive and warm. The two of you were together, and that was all that mattered. “You should have gone to your barracks and got some rest.”

“I did not know what to do,” he said, so small and fragile, and unlike him it plucked at your composure. “The medics would not let me stay once they were certain I would be all right, so I came here.” The corners of his lips rose gingerly in a tired but determined smile to be brave for you. “I came here to my symphony.” 

As you shifted cautiously and sat down next to him on the bench, you gently guided him to lie down and rest his head in your lap. He adjusted his position until he found a comfortable spot and his breathing evened out.

“Perhaps this will help,” you said, playing a slow lullaby. Sweet notes drifting between you both, you stroked your hand through his hair to soothe him with your touch and the music you hoped would bring him some peace. 

TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added, 18+ only)

@freesia-writes @the-hexfiles @theeyesofasoldier @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @skellymom

[oneshotnewbie]

Can you write a story about Natasha Ross? I give you full creativity to make whatever you want.

Summary: Fire Chief Natasha Ross, Captain y/n y/l/n and their team are called to an operation that confronts you with your own past. While you try to help others, you also have to fight your own demons. Natasha will help you with this. This experience will strengthen your friendship and help you heal.

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of loss and death. Those plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sun was dipping towards the horizon as the loud wail of sirens broke the calm evening silence. Natasha, the veteran fire chief, looked up from the latest reports and operational plans on her desk and immediately sensed the urgent tension in the air. Something big was afoot.

She jumped up and grabbed her helmet that was hanging on the wall before putting on her jacket and hearing the first instructions over the radio. "All units, we have a major fire at Pier 25. Immediate standby. Repeat, immediate standby."

Natasha rushed out of her office, where she already met you, the captain of the fire station. The tension in your eyes was unmistakable, and Natasha knew this wouldn't be an unusual mission. You also felt an inexplicable restlessness rising within you. “What do we have, y/n?” She asked as she bumped into you.

You panted as you jumped down the last steps from the top and followed her into the hall. "It's one of the old storage complexes on the pier. It looks like a devastating fire with possible hazardous materials."

The fire chief nodded seriously and got into the car, followed by you and the entire team. The streets whizzed past you as the blue lights showed the way through the paths. Thoughts swirled through Natasha's head as she focused on the mission at hand, wanting to do everything right. However, a vague feeling of oppression still didn't leave her.

When you reached the pier the scene was chaotic. Flames danced wildly, thick black smoke covered the sky bathed in evening sun. Workers had gathered around the cordoned off site, some in panic, others stunned by the extent of the destruction.

Natasha jumped out of the car and immediately took command of her team. "Security squad, search for survivors and direct them immediately to the rescue squad. The rest run in ahead of the security squad and fight the fire. We have to get the flames under control before a dangerous explosion could occur."

The entire team, including you, nodded and charged into the blazing hell of the complex. The heat was intense, and the crackling of the fire added to the air. The smoke was so thick that it obscured visibility and as you fought your way through each hallway, the desperate symphony of fire roaring where suddenly overwhelmed by a familiar smell - a smell that triggered a flood of memories.

You knew this place. It was the same warehouse where you had experienced one of the worst missions of your career years ago. A tragedy that haunted you to this day. You stopped abruptly in the middle of the building, and Natasha felt an inexplicable tension as she listened through the comms as Andy and Maya encouraged you to keep walking and stay with the group.

"Y/n, what's wrong? Talk to me." Natasha asked worriedly and you turned your gaze towards the ground. Confronting your past brought with it a wave of emotions - guilt, sadness and anger. You forced yourself to concentrate while Natasha, full of tension from the mission and nervousness of the fire, had completely forgotten what memories this place held for you. "T-this is the place where y/s/n d-died in a fire years ago, 'tash. Y-you and I were h-here and couldn't save her."

The fire chief froze for a moment as the memories came flooding back to her. She had taken part in this tragic incident almost a decade ago; the three of you were a rescue team in one of these warehouses when the ceiling partially collapsed and buried your sister under the flaming roof. The image haunted you like a dark shadow. "I know it's hard. But now we're here, and we'll do our best to help anyone who's in danger. I know it's hard but you have to suppress your feelings, y/n."

You nodded silently without her seeing and continued on your way, with Natasha resolutely accompanying you in your ear. The fire raged wildly around you as you delved deeper into the burning complex. The heat was suffocating, the smoke made it difficult to breathe even with a mask, but you couldn't give up. People's lives depended on your work.

But while you desperately tried to save others, you battled your own inner demons. The memories of your sister's tragic loss washed over you like an unstoppable tide. The image of your sister caught in the flames haunted you amidst the chaos. The scream before everything came down, every smell of the fire reminded you of your own powerlessness when you had failed to save her. The thought of being here again, in this place of loss and pain, threatened to overwhelm you with every step.

Outside the squad car, Natasha listened intently to her team's radio transmissions as she tried to support you. She heard your desperate breathing and felt her own helpless rage at the ruthlessness of the fire. But she knew you were fighting - not just against the flames, but also against your own ghosts of the past and she knew that she couldn't leave you alone. “Y/n, do you hear me?” She called over the radio in a calm and firm voice, directing her attention only to you to try and calm you down. She knew the rest of the team would make it without her.

A weak response came back, punctuated by coughs and a muffled voice that made her think you were trying to hold back your tears. "Yes, 'tash. I hear you."

Her heart ached at the sound of your voice and she forced herself to stay calm, even though she wanted to grab you out of there and pull you into a hug. "You can do this, honey. You are strong. Remember why you are doing this. Think of the people who are counting on you." She replied, forcing you to take a deep breath as you fought back tears. You knew she was right, you could feel her words being an anchor in the middle of a storm, and you couldn't let your fears paralyze you, not now when so many lives were at stake.

With renewed courage you continued on your way, focusing on saving others instead of getting lost in your own thoughts, Natasha repeatedly whispering a few soothing words into your ears. You reached for the injured worker, surrounded by flames, and without hesitation, you pulled him out of harm's way and led him through the thick smoke to safety.

Natasha, meanwhile, followed your every move, every instruction you gave, feeling relieved and worried at the same time. She knew that this deployment was an emotional rollercoaster for you, but she was also proud of the way you once again asserted yourself, overcame your fears and rose to the challenges.

Finally, after endless minutes of fighting, you emerged from the burning inferno with Maya and Andy, followed by the last survivors. Your face was covered in soot and sweat, but there was an unwavering look of exhaustion and triumph in your eyes.

Natasha rushed to you with quick steps and hugged you tightly. "You did it, y/n. You and your team saved them all." She spoke proudly, hugging you tighter. You smiled tiredly, the demons of the past had exhausted you. "Thank you, Natasha. I couldn't have done it without you."

Hours passed, but it felt like an eternity as the rest of the teams, including yours, got the flames under control. Natasha watched you stand still, staring at the charred ruin as she slowly approached, and crept up on you before an arm wrapped around your shoulder, momentarily startling you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you said quietly, the memories still swirling vividly in your head. Natasha was fascinated by how you seemed calm and collected on the outside while you were drowning on the inside. "I thought I had processed it, I mean her death. But this mission showed me that there are still a few things I need to come to terms with."

"You know I'll support you, right?" She asked and a small smile escaped your dry lips. "Whether you want to seek professional help, talk to me about it, or need some time to strengthen your mental health.. I'm here. And I won't leave."

You nodded and rested your head on her chest as she rested her cheek on your hair. You had to learn to live with your loss and stay focused on helping others in need.

In the days and weeks that followed, Natasha took time for you to reflect on what had happened and accompanied you to a psychologist. Confronting your past had shown you that it was important to face your fears and weaknesses and learn from them. With the support of the fire department chief, you were slowly able to completely come to terms with the demons of your past and in the process formed a closer and deeper friendship with Natasha, who you never thought you would ever have with anyone.

[zapreportsblog]

Ok ok ok, Stu and Billy with a reader that’s like extremely shy. Like they can’t even make eye contact because their face goes red. Or they stutter and stumble over their words when talking to them, and they become clumsy around them, always tripping over their own feet and then apologizing profusely after the land on one of the boys.

❝shy hearts unveiled❞

✭ pairing : stu macher x reader x billy loomis

✭ fandom : slashers, scream 1996

✭ summary : In the quiet town of Woodsboro,California , two souls, Stu and Billy, share a connection with a girl as delicate as a fragile butterfly's wing. Stu, the loud and party animal highschooler, finds himself utterly captivated by (Y/N). Every attempt to approach them ends with flushed cheeks and a tangled tongue. Stuttering and stumbling over his words, he never manages to convey his true feelings. Yet, his earnestness shines through in the smallest gestures, like offering a warm smile or helping (Y/N) pick up a fallen book. On the other side of this tender dance is Billy, a silent and slightly intimidating highschooler whose love for horror movies reflect his innermost emotions. Every encounter with (Y/N) sends their heart into a wild frenzy.

✭ slashers masterlist

Stu Macher stood in the hallway of Woodsboro High School, his heart pounding like a drum in a quiet symphony. He watched with a mix of admiration and shyness as (Y/N) stood at her locker, her delicate hands gracefully flipping through the pages of her textbook. She was a vision of grace and beauty, the epitome of everything he'd ever admired from afar.

(Y/N)'s hair cascaded like a waterfall of onyx silk, and her eyes, he thought, must have held the secrets of the universe. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her smile, a radiant beam of sunshine that could brighten even the cloudiest of days. Every day, he found himself lost in the reverie of her presence, unable to muster the courage to speak a word to her.

As (Y/N) gathered her books, Stu couldn't help but compliment her silently in his head. "She's incredible," he thought, marveling at the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, and how effortlessly she seemed to glide through the halls.

But then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, the universe decided to intervene. Just as (Y/N) was walking away from her locker, her notebook slipped from her hand, and time seemed to slow. Stu's heart raced, and without thinking, he darted forward, his reflexes kicking in.

He managed to grab the falling notebook just inches from the ground, saving it from an inevitable collision with the cold linoleum floor. But to his surprise, (Y/N) had the same idea. Their hands met, their fingers brushed, and for a fraction of a second, their eyes locked in a moment that felt like an eternity.

Stu couldn't help but flash a warm, reassuring smile, his heart pounding even harder now. But (Y/N), her face flushed the brightest shade of crimson, pulled her hand away as if his touch had burned her. She stammered out a stuttered apology and a rushed "Thank you" before snatching the notebook from his grasp and retreating like a startled deer.

Stu watched, his heart sinking, as (Y/N) hurried down the hallway, disappearing into the sea of students. He wanted desperately to introduce himself, to make her laugh with one of his clever quips, but the words eluded him as they always did in her presence.

With a sigh, Stu couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever summon the courage to be more than just a silent admirer of the enigmatic (Y/N). As he stared at the empty hallway, he vowed to himself that someday, somehow, he would find a way to bridge the gap between their worlds and make her smile again.

As Stu hastily made his way to his next class, he turned a corner and almost collided with his best friend, Billy Loomis, who was casually leaning against his locker, waiting for him. Billy raised an eyebrow and nodded his head in the direction they had just come from.

"What was all that about, Stu?" Billy inquired, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Stu blinked, momentarily confused, before he realized that Billy had witnessed the entire scene with (Y/N) at her locker. His cheeks reddened, and he stammered, "Oh, uh, that? Well, nothing really, just a clumsy moment, you know."

Billy wasn't convinced, and he leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. "Come on, Stu, spill it. I've never seen you react like that before. Who's the blushing chick?"

Stu sighed, knowing he couldn't keep it a secret any longer. "Her name's (Y/N)," he admitted, his voice softening. "I don't know, Billy, there's just something about her. She's different."

Billy's interest was now fully piqued, and he straightened up, his trademark smirk fading into a thoughtful expression. "Different, huh? Well, that's intriguing. Tell me more about this (Y/N)."

As Stu began to recount the moments when he had seen (Y/N) in the hallways, her smile, her grace, and her unique presence, he noticed that Billy was listening intently, no longer teasing him but genuinely interested in what had captured his best friend's attention.

Billy Loomis couldn't let go of his curiosity about (Y/N), the mysterious girl who had captured Stu's attention. He found himself wandering the hallways, trying to catch a glimpse of her, to understand what made her so special. Little did he know that fate had something unexpected in store.

As Billy turned a corner, he spotted (Y/N) walking hurriedly down the hall, a stack of books precariously balanced in her arms. Her face was buried in a book, and she seemed entirely engrossed in her own world.

Without thinking, Billy decided to seize the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. He quickened his pace to catch up with her. Just as he was about to reach out and tap her on the shoulder, their worlds collided.

The sudden contact startled (Y/N), causing her to drop a few of her books. In a reflexive move, Billy reached out and gently placed a hand on her waist and another on her back to steady her. Her face flushed a deep shade of red, a stark contrast to her pale complexion.

"Wow, in a hurry much?" Billy teased, a smirk playing on his lips. His tone was light, meant to be playful, but he couldn't help but notice (Y/N)'s reaction.

As if his touch had scorched her, (Y/N) quickly backed away from him, her eyes wide with embarrassment. She stammered out a hurried apology, her voice barely audible, and hastily retrieved her fallen books. Without another word, she turned on her heel and rushed off down the hallway.

Billy watched her retreating figure, a perplexed expression on his face. He was used to girls throwing themselves at him, not running away as if he were contagious. There was something undeniably intriguing about (Y/N), and he couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath her shy exterior.

With a newfound determination, Billy decided that he would get to know (Y/N) better, not just because of his curiosity, but because he genuinely wanted to understand what had made Stu so captivated by her. Little did he know that his pursuit of the mysterious (Y/N) would lead to unexpected twists and turns in his own life.

Billy couldn't shake off the intriguing encounter with (Y/N). The way she had blushed and hurried away had left him with a sense of curiosity that he couldn't ignore. It wasn't long before he sought out Stu to discuss what he had observed.

"Stu," Billy began, leaning against the lockers, "I can see why you like her. She's easy to tease, right?"

Stu frowned, shaking his head. "No, Billy, it's not like that at all. It's not about teasing her. There's so much more to her than that."

Billy raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by Stu's reaction. "Okay, then. Tell me, what's so special about her?"

Stu took a deep breath, his eyes distant as he thought about (Y/N). "She's not like the other girls at school, Billy. She doesn't crave attention or try to fit in. Instead of going to parties or seeing the latest movie, she's at the library or doing volunteer work, helping others without expecting anything in return."

Billy listened attentively as Stu continued, "And you know what's different about her? She doesn't judge me or make fun of me like most people do. She doesn't treat me like I'm just the class clown or the guy who always goofs around. When we talk, she listens, and it feels like she genuinely cares about what I have to say."

Stu's heartfelt words left Billy momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected this level of sincerity from his usually laid-back friend. After a pause, Billy admitted, "You know what, Stu? You're right. There's something different about her, something refreshing."

Stu raised an eyebrow, a half-smile forming on his lips. "Different in a good way?"

Billy nodded emphatically. "In a good way, of course. I've never met anyone quite like her, and I can't deny there's something intriguing about (Y/N)."

As the two friends shared this unexpected heart-to-heart conversation, they couldn't help but wonder where their newfound fascination with (Y/N) would lead them and how she might change their lives in ways they couldn't yet imagine.

As the school day drew to a close, Stu mustered up the courage to catch (Y/N) as she walked home. He had been waiting for this moment, hoping to get to know her better. With his heart pounding, he approached her just as she was about to leave the school grounds.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Stu greeted her with a friendly smile. "I noticed you usually walk home. How about I give you a ride today?"

(Y/N) blinked, her face turning a shade of pink. The idea of getting a ride from Stu, with Billy in the car, was both exciting and nerve-wracking. She stammered, "Oh, um, I'm not sure..."

Billy, who had been lingering nearby, stepped forward and chimed in, "Don't worry, (Y/N), we don't do nothing, scouts honor." He held up three fingers in a mock salute, trying to put her at ease.

Stu nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's just a ride home, nothing more."

Despite her flustered state, (Y/N) managed to stutter out a hesitant, "Yes, thank you."

As the three of them piled into Stu's car, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. She didn't know what to expect with Stu and Billy, but she was willing to take the chance.

To (Y/N)'s surprise, instead of heading straight home, Stu made a sudden stop at a cozy coffee shop. She furrowed her brows in confusion, wondering why they had detoured.

"Well," Stu began, turning to (Y/N) with a mischievous grin, "now that we've got your attention, we can't have you running away so quickly, can we?"

Billy opened the car door for (Y/N) and followed Stu's lead, stepping out. He flashed her a warm smile and added, "Yeah, so we thought we could all hang out. After all, it's Friday."

(Y/N) was taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, but there was something intriguing about these two boys and their earnest attempts to get to know her. With a shy smile, she agreed, "Okay, let's hang out."

Inside the cozy coffee shop, Stu, Billy, and (Y/N) settled into a corner booth, each with their choice of beverage. The atmosphere was warm, with soft jazz music playing in the background, creating a comfortable ambiance.

As they sipped their drinks, Stu leaned forward, a genuine smile on his face. "So, (Y/N), tell us something about yourself. What do you like to do in your free time?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, still feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected encounter. But there was something disarming about Stu and Billy that made her want to open up. "Well," she began, "I enjoy reading, volunteering at the local shelter, and spending time at the library."

Billy nodded, genuinely interested. "That's pretty cool. Not many people our age volunteer like that."

(Y/N) blushed, her eyes downcast. "It's just something I've always been passionate about."

Stu chimed in, "Passion is a good thing. It's what makes you unique."

The conversation flowed easily as they exchanged stories and shared laughter. (Y/N) discovered that beneath their seemingly carefree exteriors, Stu and Billy had their own quirks and dreams. Stu was more than just the class clown, and Billy had aspirations beyond the usual teenage fantasies.

Hours passed, and they found themselves engrossed in discussions about books, movies, and life in general. It was as if the coffee shop had become a sanctuary where their differences didn't matter, and their friendship blossomed in the most unexpected way.

As they left the coffee shop, (Y/N) felt a warmth in her heart. She realized that Stu and Billy were not like the others at school. They didn't judge her for her shyness or her passions; instead, they embraced her for who she was.

Billy opened the car door for (Y/N) again, and as she got in, she turned to him with a genuine smile. "Thank you for today. It was really nice."

Stu, who was already in the driver's seat, grinned. "Yeah, it was. We should do this again sometime."

Billy agreed, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Definitely. We've got a lot more to talk about, (Y/N)."

And so, the unlikely trio drove away from the coffee shop, knowing that their newfound friendship was something special. As the days turned into weeks and their bond deepened, they would discover that sometimes, the most extraordinary connections are formed in the most ordinary of places, like a cozy coffee shop on a Friday afternoon.

In the weeks that followed their impromptu coffee shop hangout, Stu, Billy, and (Y/N) continued to spend time together. What had started as a chance encounter had blossomed into a deep and meaningful friendship.

They found themselves exploring new places, from art galleries to local parks, sharing their thoughts, dreams, and experiences. (Y/N)'s shyness gradually faded in their presence, and she felt comfortable being her true self around Stu and Billy.

Stu was amazed by how easy it was to talk to (Y/N), how she listened intently and always had a thoughtful response. He admired her dedication to volunteering and her passion for literature, which ignited a new interest in reading for him.

Billy, on the other hand, enjoyed (Y/N)'s quiet sense of humor and the way she appreciated the beauty in art, something he had never paid much attention to before. He found himself seeing the world through her eyes and discovered a new appreciation for the simple joys in life.

One sunny afternoon, they decided to have a picnic at a tranquil park by the river. Stu had brought his guitar along, and as he strummed a gentle melody, (Y/N) and Billy lay on a blanket, soaking in the music and the warmth of the sun.

(Y/N) spoke up, her voice filled with a sense of contentment. "You know, I never thought I'd have friends like you two. You've made such a difference in my life."

Stu smiled warmly, his fingers continuing to dance over the guitar strings. "The feeling is mutual, (Y/N). You've shown us that there's more to life than what we thought."

Billy nodded in agreement. "You've changed our perspective, (Y/N), and for the better."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over their small picnic, they realized that their friendship was a rare and beautiful thing. They had come together as three individuals who, on the surface, seemed entirely different, but beneath it all, they connected on a level that transcended their differences.

With each passing day, Stu, Billy, and (Y/N) deepened their bond, proving that sometimes the most unexpected friendships are the ones that leave the most profound impact on our lives.

As their friendship with (Y/N) continued to grow, a subtle tension began to simmer beneath the surface. Stu and Billy had both developed feelings for her, and what had once been an easy camaraderie between them now became a silent competition for her affection.

It started with small, subtle gestures. Stu would offer to help (Y/N) with her schoolwork or walk her home, and Billy would counter with inviting her to his art studio to see his latest work after all it was her who even managed to get him into something other than horror movies, or suggesting outings that he thought she might enjoy.

(Y/N) couldn't help but notice the change in dynamics but remained blissfully unaware of the growing rivalry between her two friends. She valued them both deeply and saw no reason to suspect anything amiss.

One day, after school, (Y/N) found herself in a predicament. She had two tickets to a local art exhibition, and she didn't want to disappoint either Stu or Billy. She decided to invite them both, thinking it would be a fun outing for the three of them.

When she proposed the idea to Stu and Billy separately, she noticed a flicker of disappointment in their eyes, quickly concealed behind forced smiles and polite responses. Unbeknownst to her, the competition was escalating.

As the night of the art exhibition approached, Stu and Billy each secretly planned something special to impress (Y/N). Stu bought her a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers, while Billy created a personalized painting that he hoped would touch her heart.

On the evening of the event, (Y/N) arrived at the exhibition to find both Stu and Billy waiting for her, each with a gift in hand. She was touched by their thoughtfulness but couldn't help feeling that something was amiss.

Throughout the evening, Stu and Billy vied for her attention, each trying to outdo the other with witty comments, compliments, and attempts to make her laugh. Their rivalry became increasingly apparent, and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel torn between the two.

As the night came to a close, (Y/N) thanked them both for the wonderful evening, but her heart was heavy with confusion. She couldn't ignore the growing tension between Stu and Billy and knew that something needed to change.

The tension between Stu and Billy had reached a breaking point, and it was bound to spill over eventually. The incident occurred one fateful day in the crowded hallway of their high school.

(Y/N) was walking to her next class when she heard raised voices echoing down the corridor. Turning a corner, she saw Stu and Billy locked in a heated argument. Their faces were flushed with anger, and their words were sharp, cutting through the air like knives.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Her two closest friends were fighting, and it was because of her. Panic and confusion washed over her as she rushed forward, desperate to stop the escalating confrontation.

Before she could intervene, a teacher appeared and forcefully separated the two boys, their struggle coming to an abrupt end. Stu and Billy were both breathing heavily, their anger still smoldering.

It was in that moment, under the stern gaze of their teacher, that Stu and Billy turned to (Y/N), their faces filled with a mixture of regret and frustration. They knew they had let their rivalry get out of control, and it had cost them their friendship and potentially their connection with her.

The teacher scolded them both and warned them about the consequences of fighting in school. Stu and Billy hung their heads, chastised, but it was clear that their primary concern was (Y/N).

As the teacher walked away, leaving the three of them in the hallway, Stu and Billy stepped closer to (Y/N), their voices soft and filled with remorse.

"(Y/N)," Stu began, his voice trembling, "we need to talk."

Billy nodded in agreement. "Please, hear us out."

But before (Y/N) could respond, she felt the weight of the judgmental whispers and accusing glances from passing students. Word had spread about the fight, and the rumor mill was quick to churn out stories, most of which blamed her for causing the rift between her two friends.

Unable to bear the stares and the gossip, (Y/N) felt tears welling up in her eyes. Without a word, she turned and fled down the hallway, tears streaming down her face.

"Wait!" Stu and Billy called out simultaneously, their voices filled with desperation. They broke free from the teacher's grip and chased after her, their determination to set things right overshadowing their own rivalry.

In the midst of the chaos and heartbreak, they realized that their feelings for (Y/N) had driven a wedge between them and cost them their friendship. Now, they had to find a way to mend not only their relationship with her but also the damage they had done to her reputation.

[julieeeeette]

The one where Yoongi has writer's block

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (gn)

Word Count: 514

Rating: PG-13

Yoongi's hand was beginning to ache from writing.

It wasn't that he was on a roll… he couldn't even get a start he liked. He'd get a few words down, but then the feeling would fade to nothing, leaving him with just a few lines.

He'd tried to force himself to finish the song even if it was empty. He'd done it before, but this time it felt like he was trying to push himself through a thick vault door.

With a heavy sigh, he dropped his pen and sat back to push his hands into his dark hair while he stared up at the ceiling.

This was the one thing he was truly good at. Why had his talent suddenly slipped away?

He shook his head and focused on the tune. He'd heard something very distinctly while he was writing. Maybe he could get it back by working on the rhythm.

It would be days of no progress before he heard a song playing in one of the halls at his university that caught his interest. It was bright and airy… it stirred his heart and made it tremble.

What was it?

He followed the sound to the practice room where he slipped inside and saw you playing your violin.

He leaned against the door as his heart blossomed and took off like a bird in flight, soaring high above the world.

You smiled at him as you watched him go to the piano and fall into sync with you as if he'd heard the song you were playing a million times. 

You smiled again and nodded as his finger slew across the keys. He knew in that instant he wanted to give you a symphony. 

He could already hear the gentle crescendo of his piano as your violin climbed steadily towards the sun. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, melting away his fears and insecurities. He could feel the confidence return to him like he was a puzzle being put together.

This would be the song he got married to.

He felt it in his bones. He could already feel the tears pricking his eyes as he waited anxiously for you by the altar.

When the song ended, he looked up, eager to see you and to know your name and everything about you. He wanted to know what the song was and who it was by only to see he was alone.

He looked around for a moment in confusion.

There was no way you could have escaped so quickly. He would have heard the door squeal open and thud behind you. 

There was no sign of you existing.

Were you real at all? 

There was no time though. He could still hear the song clearly and had to get it recorded before it faded.

Maybe, he mused while replaying the song, you were his muse come to save him from himself. 

Before he left the room, he glanced back with a smile and gratitude in his heart, hoping you could sense it wherever you were.

[yume-x-hanabi]

Life update

Posted on DW, but I figured I could update this blog as well now that I'm semi-getting back into social media...

I've sorta fallen off from the fandom and social media space, because life has been a lot these past few years. To sum up briefly:

- I made a couple of posts about it last year, but I bought an apartment in a new building (construction wasn't finished at the time). Running left and right to choose stuff such as flooring etc, getting things organized on the paperwork side (banks, notaries...), plus the move itself, took me a lot of time and energy. I've been living here full time for 10 months now though, and it's been great. Love the building (even tho it's not entirely finished orz), love the neighbourhood, and it's so great to have your own place. Missy seems at ease here, too, which is important. The balconies' guardrails are huge glass panes that go all the way to the floor with no gap, so that means I can let her out without supervision without fear of her falling/jumping off.

- Work, the main culprit for my withdrawal from fandom. I think I mentioned before that I took on more admin tasks a couple years ago, and while I enjoy the actual work when I get to it, it's a huge huge drain to my mental energy, esp when combined with everything else (class prep, exams, meetings etc). So it's pretty much killed my drive, and my already bad work-life balance just became worse and worse. Like, it's not that I don't have free time (perks of teaching = lots of holidays), but when I do I'm so mentally exhausted that I was pretty much only able to play mindless games like Solitaire or Civilization VI (which became like an addiction lol) or doomscroll on twitter or reddit. I pretty much lost my ability to engage with hobbies, except for the ones below, and I'm trying really really hard to come back and make it stick this time around.

- Speaking of hobbies though, I've gotten really into classical music and started attending concerts regularly. By perfect coincidence, my new place is at a 2-minute walk from my city's philharmonic hall, and I've been enjoying the heck out of that perk. My city's orchestra is really good, and their program so varied. When it was time to choose my subscription for next season, it was harder to choose which concerts not to attend (but a choice had to be made ;v;). Also I'm super stoked because they're playing my favorite symphony next year, I didn't expect to be able to hear it live so soon!

I think this really saved my mental health this year. Like, it's a bit hard to explain, but there's something really unique and relaxing about the atmosphere there. It's a bit intimidating at first, and I was really self-conscious about not making noise at the beginning, but I've gotten used to it now. Mostly, I think it helped me rediscover what it is to just sit down and enjoy the moment, without constantly looking for stimulation to my already overstimulated mind (silly aside, but before that I'd sorta lost the ability to binge a series without mindlessly checking my phone in the middle of episodes. Being "forced" to keep my phone away for the duration of a concert has really helped me recover my attention span). I think it helps my mind rest, if that makes sense? Also there's nothing comparable to listening to the music live in a hall with great acoustics x3

I followed the Queen Elisabeth Competition closely this year, live for a few finals performances when possible, the rest on TV, and it was really awesome. I think in four years I'll get the subscription for the whole finals week :p

- Relatedly, I've also started taking violin lessons. I'd always wanted to learn an instrument since I was a child (loved those mandatory recorder classes we had at school lol), but it never happened (partly because I was too passive as a child to actively ask for it, partly because my parents probably didn't want to have their eardrums massacred, so didn't offer it (wouldn't have said no if I'd asked, but as I said I wasn't good at asking back then)). It took me a while to actually make the jump, because I thought I'm too old now and there's no point, but I finally did with some encouragements from friends and colleagues and I'm really glad I did. Violin is... hard lol. I sound absolutely terrible. But it's also really fun? Like I feel like I'll never be good, but also I've made so much progress since I started. I don't have much time to practice (I aim at at least 10min a day these days, which isn't a lot, but it's better than nothing and it's more important to do it a little regularly than a lot once in a while). I'm really looking forward to the day I'll be able to attempt to play Xillia songs 😄 Also I really love my teacher<3

- Lastly, niece is 3 now and so fun to interact with. It's not always easy, she's very stubborn and willful, but she's also really sweet and funny. Love her ❤️ And she's just got a little sister! who's a very chill newborn, so different from niece#1 lol. I can't wait to see them play together when they're a little bit older.

Anyway, that's pretty much the main things that have been going on the past couple of years. Like I said I'm not sure I can be totally back, I think it's gonna take a lot of adjustment, but this time I really don't want to let another year pass by like that. I'm really gonna try hard to have better balance this time!

[ikeprinces-stuff]

[𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬, 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜]

A/N note : Happy birthday Leon Dompteur 🥺🥀✨❤️

(header and Romarin's art by : yours truly 😉✨❤️)

Pairing: Leon Dompteur x Romarin ??????

Warning: No warning WC: 3K

Previous fics:

Tendon Entanglement The Melody Of A Kiss

Two Cups Of Warm Love Symphony Of Longing

The dome now stands empty, its once-vibrant beauty's time rose having fulfilled its purpose in the most perfect manner. No longer does it have reason to confine itself within the intricately adorned structure. Its position remains unchanged, steadfast by the throne that lies before it. Save for the golden engravings that accentuate its edges, the throne appears merely as an ordinary chair; yet, its significance lies in the identity of the one who occupies it and the weight of their responsibility.

Upon his ascension to kingship, the throne became his rightful seat. He had attained what he sought within these palace walls, vowing to guide his kingdom towards a future of light and peace. Yet beneath the surface of his triumph lies a sense of unease; a profound emptiness stirs within him, unsettling his very soul. Has he truly found joy now that his ambition has been realized? Is there nothing more he desires?

His amber gaze lingered on the dome’s glass, captivated by the way the early morning sun illuminated the tall windows of the throne room. Though the sunlight bathed the space in warmth, that warmth failed to penetrate the heart of this solitary king.

On the morning of August 1st, a palpable excitement buzzed through the palace, a day that everyone recognized with eager anticipation. Though the sun had yet to climb high in the sky, the servants scurried about, diligently preparing for the grand celebration planned for that evening. Yet, amidst the flurry of activity, they found time to show their utmost respect to the guest of honor.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. Wishing you a happy birthday in advance,” one maid offered with extra reverence. The king returned her sentiment with a warm smile and a nod. “Thank you. I see everything is progressing smoothly?” he observed, glancing beyond her to the hustle of preparations. She confirmed with a nod, “All in honor of you, my lord,” before excusing herself to resume her tasks, mindful not to linger and waste the king’s time.

From where he stood, the party hall came into view, adorned with decorations and seemingly endless gifts addressed to him. Although he was accustomed to the organized chaos of such events, the familiar atmosphere brought a gentle smile to his face.

“Oh, look who’s up early? The birthday man, or should I say, the birthday King,” chimed a familiar voice as an arm casually draped over his shoulders. He chuckled lightly, recognizing the playful tone of his older brother. “Sariel insisted on an early wake-up call and, of all people, sent Vernard to rouse me, so I had little choice,” he replied, gently removing the First Prince's arm with the familiar ease of their brotherly banter.

The brothers made their way to the Domestic Faction office, where they found Yves and Licht already seated at their desks. “Good morning, you two,” Leon greeted casually. “Good morning, Your Majesty,” Yves replied promptly, while Licht offered only a nod of acknowledgment.

“Alright, Leon, it's time to prepare for the party tonight. You have a hefty workload ahead of you, especially since you’ve been sneaking out of the palace these past few days. This will be your first birthday celebration as a king instead of a prince,” Yves said, his tone a mix of firmness and concern. Licht’s expression was icy as he interjected, “What’s the difference?”

“There’s a world of difference, Licht. As a king, he must be present to greet and accept congratulations from the nobles of the royal court,” Yves explained. “It’s no different from being a prince,” Licht scoffed, his skepticism palpable. Just as Yves was about to elaborate, Leon’s surprised voice cut through their discussion. “Huh?”

“Looks like he’s caught on,” Jin smirked from his position near the door. Leon ambled over to his desk, where he noticed all his papers and documents had been meticulously organized. After a careful inspection, he let out a resigned sigh. “Vernard…”

“You called?” came a voice from behind Jin, causing him to start slightly. Turning around, he was met with Vernard’s sudden presence, as if he had materialized from thin air. “He's done it again,” Jin remarked, clearly taken aback by Vernard’s knack for appearing unexpectedly. Vernard merely shrugged. “I tend to do that. You should get used to it.”

Leon gestured at the neatly arranged documents scattered across his desk. “You finished all of this, didn’t you?”

“That’s no surprise,” Licht replied, his tone still frosty, while Jin added with a grin, “He does this all the time; so, what's the big deal?" Leon leaned back against his desk, addressing Vernard again. “You woke me up early for a reason, and we both know it was so I could tackle these official duties before nightfall. Yet, here you are, having done the work. If this was your plan all along, why bother waking me up in the first place?”

The answer was obvious to them all, but Leon chose to voice it anyway. Vernard simply grinned. “Because I can’t refuse any request from Mr. Sariel, no matter how absurd it may be.” He explained nonchalantly, “He told me, ‘Wake King Leon up tomorrow morning,’ without any further explanation, and I obliged. It’s not my concern if your waking up holds no significance anymore.” His faint smile, almost imperceptible from a distance, spoke volumes about the humor lurking beneath the surface of their daily chaos.

Leon let out a dramatic sigh, but honestly, Vernard’s antics didn’t faze him. He and his brothers, along with just about everyone in the palace, were used to Vern’s quirks by now.

“You really knocked out those backlogged duties in record time,” Yves remarked, casting a doubtful look at Vernard. “So does that mean—” But before he could finish, Vernard jumped in, cutting him off. “That means Leon’s got way too much free time on his hands now.” Everyone turned to Vernard in surprise.

“You heard him, chief. Vern gives you a free pass,” Jin chimed in with a lazy wink, popping a sugar lollipop into his mouth.

“So, are you planning to meet up with her today too?” Jin asked, and the moment he said it, the group’s attention shifted to Leon. They all knew he was talking about the wandering musician who’d stolen Leon’s heart. Leon had been sneaking out of the palace way more often lately. Thankfully, his brothers were usually in on the act, covering for him without a second thought. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and now that Vernard had pointed out Leon’s newfound free time, he chuckled at the whole situation.

“I guess I can’t hide anything from you guys, huh?” Leon replied nonchalantly.

“Well, your face gives it away,” Yves said matter-of-factly. “You’re planning to spend half your birthday with her, aren’t you?” Licht added casually, making Leon shrug. He wasn’t quite sure what his next move would be.

“If you stick around here, you’ll never find out, will you?” Vernard said firmly. “The longer you waste time, the more likely me and Mr. Sariel will change our minds.” Leon laughed again, “Alright, alright, I’m outta here.” He straightened up and headed over to Vernard, who was lounging in the doorway. “Catch you guys tonight,” he called as he walked out, leaving his brothers and the rest of the faction mulling over what their king was really up to.

“Are you being a bit too easy on him lately, Vernard?” Yves asked, clearly waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Let him be, Yves. You know why,” Jin replied, a grin creeping on his face. “I’m actually curious to see how things play out between Leon and that young lady.” Yves frowned. “I’m kind of worried… you remember what happened with…”

“I’ll make sure that kind of thing doesn’t happen again, Yves,” Vernard said, his voice steady despite his gaze drifting off as if he was lost in thought.

Leon didn’t need to hunt for her anymore; he knew exactly where to find her. She was probably up to her usual antics, either serenading the streets with her violin or playing the “bird lady,” scattering crumbs of bread for the birds. The Plaza Fountain popped into his head—their spot since day one. Whenever they wanted to catch up, they’d meet there. “Just as I thought… the bird lady mode,” he chuckled to himself, but his laughter faded when he spotted what was really going on. Instead of feeding the usual flock of pigeons, she was petting a sleek black crow that seemed to have swooped right in next to her, its feathers nicely mirroring her outfit. Normally, crows were known for their annoying caws, but here she was treating it like a loyal pet.

“When you do a solid for a crow, like giving it food, it’ll remember you, and soon enough, it'll come back with gifts,” she said, her voice carrying across the plaza. She knew he was standing there without even turning around; he had become a constant in her life, a presence she could sense even without seeing him.

“Well, that’s news to me,” Leon replied, taking slow steps toward her. Watching her with that crow was oddly fascinating, but he knew he had to be careful—he didn’t want to scare it off like he did with the pigeons last time. Suddenly, the crow hopped closer, eyeing him with an inquisitive tilt of its head, and for a brief moment, Leon thought he was being sized up by a bird. But Romarin stood up abruptly, causing the crow to take off. “Hey, it’s your fault this time, not mine!” he said, trying to play innocent. Romarin took a step closer, looking at him with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “I didn’t scare it off; it probably went to fetch one of its shiny treasures for me again.”

“Again?” Leon raised an eyebrow, realizing this wasn’t the first time. Romarin nodded, “I stumbled upon the little fellow during one of my itineraries and decided to share some lunch. Ever since then, it's been sticking around, bringing me little trinkets like pebbles or bottle caps.” A smile crept onto his face, even if he couldn’t help but feel a little left out. “So, what you’re saying is that you give more attention to the crow than you do to me? What does that say about you, hmmm?” he teased, a warm light in his tone. She rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “Seriously? Jealous of a bird? Talking about childish.”

“So, what’s the plan for today? You gonna put on a show for everyone to see how much you like me and keep up the act?” she shot back with a smirk, but there was a hint of truth in her sarcasm. “Actually, no,” he replied, keeping his tone serious, which made her smile waver just a bit. “There’s something I want to say, but… not here,” he whispered, gently nodding as he extended his hand. “You can come with me or not; it’s totally up to you.”

Romarin stared at him hard, trying to read his expression. After all their time together, she thought she had Leon figured out—the man who admired her music and loved to tease her. But now, the playful vibe was melting away, leaving just a serious, sincere figure, and suddenly making her heart race with curiosity over what he had to say. She caught sight of his smile fading slightly, which nudged her to make a decision. With a quick inhale, she slipped her hand into his. “You really are persuasive, aren’t you?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” he said, intertwining their fingers. Glancing down at their hands, Leon’s expression shifted, a fleeting frown crossing his face as if something had just struck him. “Leon?” she asked softly, gripping his hand tighter. He looked back at her, forcing a smile before leading her away from the plaza, pulling her along into the unknown.

“Whoa!!” Romarin exclaimed, astonished by the view before her, taking a few steps closer. “Careful there or you’ll wipe out,” Leon chuckled, catching her off-guard. She shot him a disapproving glance. “I’m not that clumsy, you know!” Her attention was quickly drawn back to the breathtaking panorama. Leon had decided to bring her to a high hill where you could take in the entire capital from above. He moved beside her, and Romarin broke the silence, “How’d you know I hadn’t found this spot yet?” Leon shrugged, “I didn't, but hey, guess I'm lucky I brought you here. Your reaction's totally worth it.”

Romarin rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile as she continued to gaze at the scene. “You mentioned there was something you wanted to tell me.” Leon nodded, his tone calm, “Yeah, today’s my birthday.” “Oh really?” she raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Happy birthday, old man! How many candles are you blowing out this year?” Leon shot back playfully, “Not old enough, thankfully.” he shot back with a grin, and they both laughed. “And you expect me to play a tune for you on your special day?” she teased. “Please?” Leon replied, a thoughtful look on his face. “Hmph, just remember, I don’t play for free. Every song has its price.”

Yet, beneath their lighthearted banter, there was an unmistakable tension. “That’s not all you wanted to say, is it?” Romarin asked, her eyebrows knitting in concern. “You didn’t drag me out here just to share your birthday, did you?” Leon sighed, “You’re sharper than I thought.” He finally looked at her,

“Ever heard of ‘slaves’?” Romarin’s eyes widened in surprise. “What’s that got to do with anything? Why’s that coming up now?” “So, you know what they're about, huh?” Leon cut her off, leaving her staring at him, her expression shifting from confusion to realization. In that moment, she dropped her gaze from the view and focused solely on the man standing beside her. The air between them grew heavy, and silence filled the space for what felt like an eternity.

The two of them sat on the hilltop, gazing down at the town below, the wind playing with their hair as it carried their unspoken thoughts. Leon had braced himself for Romarin to call him a liar, to scoff at the wild story he was about to share. But to his surprise, she didn’t. She just listened, her expression serious, without cutting him off. “Who would’ve thought?” Romarin finally said softly, breaking the silence. “That you’d go from being seen as a worthless slave to the impressive guy sitting next to me?” Her voice was gentle, but her gaze stayed fixed on the ground. “The life I have now, it cost a single coin... a moment I never dreamed I’d see as a kid.”

“Who else knows about this?” she asked quietly, her curiosity piqued. Leon shrugged, “Everyone. A knight from the palace bought me, remember?” The irritation on Romarin’s face was immediate upon hearing ‘bought.’ “People’s lives have really become that cheap, huh? It’s unbelievable how thoughtless they are.” Leon couldn’t help but chuckle at her fierce expression, but she quickly cut him off, “Why did you choose to share this with me today?” His laughter faded as he took a deep breath, staring off into the distance. “Everyone celebrates my birthday as ‘Leon’, the guy who got this name and date. But who am I, really? Just a slave who doesn’t even know when he was born, who his parents are, or what his real name is…”

Once again, silence wrapped around them like a blanket. This wasn’t the first time he had peeled back the layers of his secret, and he knew her reaction would be as predictable as it was with ... Not Romarin, or his brothers -this was the moment he had chosen to reveal his truth to someone he trusted deeply, again...

"Listen…" Leon's voice wavered, tinged with urgency. “I know you might not get it, but I’ve got to spill this out. It’s been festering inside me for ages, and it’s like a weight that just won’t lift.” But Romarin sat there, her jade eyes averted, silent and still, both of them caught in a moment that felt heavy with unspoken truths.

“To be thrown into a world where you're adrift, to have everyone else charting your course while you’re left questioning your own existence… to not even know your roots or where you truly belong…” Romarin’s whisper pierced the stillness. Leon's gaze sharpened, focusing on her as he waited, breath held, for her to go on. “You’re not alone in this. Lucky for you,” she added, the words landing like a stone in his chest. He was taken aback—was it possible that someone else had shared his solitude, his confusion? Could Romarin be experiencing the same kind of existential struggle?

“It feels like you put a lot of trust in me to open up like this,” she remarked finally, turning to him with a calm expression that belied the storm brewing beneath. “What if I told you I was just playing you this whole time?” he countered, a wry edge creeping into his tone. Romarin chuckled softly, the sound both teasing and genuine. “I’ve got a knack for reading people, and you? You’re definitely not the type to lie about something like this.” His heart swelled with a mix of surprise and gratitude, and he flashed her a relieved smile. “Thanks for believing me... thank you for listening.”

On a whim, Romarin set her violin case down and pulled out her instrument, slipping into her familiar pose. Leon quirked an eyebrow, amusement dancing across his features. “Didn’t you say you don’t play for free?” She shot him a sidelong glance, a smirk playing on her lips. “There’s a difference between playing for cash and playing for sanity.” And with that, her bow glided over the strings, unleashing a serene melody that hung in the air like a balm. As Leon watched her—no audience but him—he felt the gravity of her notes sinking deep into his soul. “Happy birthday, Leon,” she offered, her voice woven into her playing. “And I’m not talking about the person the world knows, but the real you, the one staring right at me.”

In a heartbeat, the scene blurred, pulling into a reverie of faded memories. The landscape shifted like an old film reel, revealing two small figures: one listening, the other pouring their heart into the music. A boy cloaked in shadows, hair as dark as the midnight sky and clothes worn and frayed. Beside him, a girl stood with locks of white like freshly fallen snow, her presence both delicate and strong. Despite the differences in their appearances, the song created an invisible bond that had somehow weathered time, whispering promises of a connection that might be revived through the very same tune.

~ 𝑬𝑵𝑫

01.08.2024 ❤️🦁

TAGS : @violettduchess @aquagirl1978 @leonscape @lorei-writes @the-bird-and-the-flute @scorchieart @chirp-a-chirp @solacedeer @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @reborn-elven @candied-boys @dododrawsstuff @citrusmornings @fang-and-feather

(feel free to be added or removed from the list)

[blues824]

Scarabia x Siren!Reader

Gender-neutral reader.

Kalim Al-Asim

Azul had texted him on the Housewarden group chat and informed him that because you were transformed into a siren via a lab experiment gone wrong, you would be staying at Octavinelle for the week until the spell wore off. Had Jamil not been there to warn him of the dangers that are sirens, Kalim would have gone to you and kissed you as he normally did.

But, due to his Vice Housewarden, he did not so much as hug you once he saw you. It was heartbreaking for him, and even more so when he saw the hurt look on your face. You used your siren spell to try and convince him that a small little kiss wouldn’t hurt anybody, but Jamil came in clutch and dragged your boyfriend off.

However, the damage had already been done. He was under your spell and now your voice was ringing through his head. This man was down bad for the entire week. You would think that you had died with how hard he was clutching a small framed picture of you to his chest and shedding tears. He roamed the halls of both NRC and Scarabia with a mourning look on his face.

Your voice still ran through his head. Even during the Light Music Club meeting, he couldn’t focus on what he was supposed to be doing. Instead, he looked zoned out as he focused on your faint singing. Lilia knew what was going on and made sure to give him another warning, but it did not help with anything.

Instead, on the 7th night, once he was sure that Jamil had gone to sleep, Kalim slipped out of his bedroom and out of Scarabia. He wasn’t wearing any of his jewelry, save for a simple bow on the side of his head, to make sure that he wasn’t creating too much noise. He quietly made his way to you, and entered the moonpool in which you were swimming about. You swam up to him and pulled him into you and underwater, placing a kiss on his lips.

Luckily for the both of you, Jamil did not go to sleep until fairly late at night, so you had kissed Kalim after midnight. The former man was definitely very irritated upon finding out what the Housewarden had been up to overnight, as it put him at risk of being permanently stuck under your siren spell, but to be fair… nothing really happened so it was now in the past.

Jamil Viper

Floyd had texted him in the Basketball Club group chat that you were currently staying in the Octavinelle dorm because you were turned into a ‘fishy like himself’, as per the tweel’s words. This was certainly news to the Vice Housewarden, and so he went to Octavinelle to see what was going on. The eel led him to the moonpool where you were, and you definitely had a tail that was not there before.

Jamil was aware of the dangers of a siren, and thus made sure that he didn’t fall for your very convincing voice and he maintained quite a bit of distance between the two of you. However, your song planted its claws into his brain, and as he made the journey back to Scarabia, it was stuck in his mind the entire way.

Nobody could see the pure struggle your boyfriend went through for the entire week. Each night, as he laid in his bed, he could not go to sleep because he could hear your singing. You were calling for him. His heart was pushing at him, telling him to go to you, but his brain was his savior in the moment and reminded him that he would be permanently stuck under your spell.

As the 7th day dawned, your power was heightened. Your singing was equivalent to a symphony in Jamil’s brain. In class, he could not concentrate because you reigned sovereign in his thoughts. During basketball practice, he was zoning out and not paying attention and got a basketball to the chest because of it. Once he got back to his dorm, he made the decision to answer your call for him.

That night, he quietly made his way to you. He somehow snuck by both Scarabia and Octavinelle students, your voice growing louder and louder until he was standing at the edge of the moonpool. You peaked your head above water to see who was there, and you let out an exclamation of excitement upon seeing that it was your lover. The sight made Jamil’s heart flutter as he crouched down to meet you halfway. You then wrapped your arms about his neck and gave him a kiss right as the clock struck midnight.

Fortunately, he was not stuck under your spell. But he did finish the makeout session before he realized that you no longer had your tail and you were back to normal. He quietly obtained a towel and wrapped you up like a burrito before taking you back to Ramshackle. He stayed the night, cuddling you because he (and he would never admit this) missed you so much this week.