#sibling and i was so excited. BLANK STARE .

[itsalwaysdark]

ive always wanted to play dnd but truly i think its too late for me and i just dont have it

[highvern]

Totally Scrooged TEASER

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!reader

Genre: neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut

warnings:  alcohol consumption, others tbd

Teaser Length: ~1.5k | Full Fic Length: ~20k

Note: it's christmas timeeeee!!!!!! i missed DK so dearly since Teach Me so I had to bring him back for the holidays. everyone, check out the rest of the fics on @camandemstudios everyone worked so hard and im so excited to read them. thank u @gyuswhore and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-ing this teaser

summary: When your ex decides to propose to his best friend he told you not to worry about only eleven months after your breakup, you decide the holidays aren’t worth it this year. You’re dedicated to ignoring the red and green splashed on every surface, but your neighbor has a way of convincing you maybe the holidays aren’t totally bad.

collab m.list || m.list

Comment to be tagged when the fic is posted later this month!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Shot number four is about the time you realize drinking your sorrows alone in your apartment on a Saturday night is a little bit pathetic. But you unlock your phone out of habit and the same picture of your ex down on one knee in the middle of the street in marathon gear stares back at you, and a fifth shot sounds exactly like what you need.

At least the burn of peppermint schnapps is festive.

Ten months. You and Sam split barely ten months and he’s already engaged to Carson. 

After three years of dating, getting Sam to talk about plans further than a month out was like pulling teeth. When he asked you to move in with him you thought there was a very real chance he suffered some head injury that day. Sam and long term commitment didn’t mix. Your entire relationship felt like borrowed time. His engagement proved it was the truth.

In hindsight, you should’ve trusted your gut about Sam’s “platonic” “childhood” “best” “friend.” 

They did everything together. Their families vacationed in Montauk every summer, they alternated who hosted which major holiday despite living next door, there isn’t a single milestone either achieved without the other. Every time you visited his parents house the plethora of photos of your boyfriend and his best friend from cradle to present day seemed to grow exponentially. 

She’s like my sister.

Most people would frown upon dating a sibling after breaking up with their long term girlfriend, who was sick at home with the flu during Christmas, via text but what do you know? You’re the one sitting on your couch in a tiny apartment you can barely afford wallowing in drunk sorrows while they’re out celebrating.

It’s addicting. Scrolling through all the comments on their engagement photos, with a blanket over your head like some fairytale witch. Sam’s friends you tried so hard to bond with flood the comments, gushing about how cute he and Carson are, how happy they are for them. 

Your friends texted you how big of a jerk he was, a few calls but you ignored them. All you want is to wallow in self pity. 

Like the judgemental diva she is, Shinx watches from her tower in the corner, green eyes disdainful. She never liked Sam anyway.

It’d be better if Carson wasn’t objectively likable. Everyone liked her, you included. At least, until your boyfriend dumped you in a three sentence text and she posted a picture of them together on her Instagram not twenty four hours later with the caption “the best things take a while” – color coordinated for the Spencer family photo shoot in front of their lake house.

Assholes.

Even when she isn’t dolled up for pictures, you can’t even pretend she isn’t pretty. Carson looks like she belongs on a Hollywood set, even after running a 5k at the crack of dawn. Perfect messy ponytail, face rosie but not too red. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. 

Shot number seven empties the bottle.

Through the living room wall your neighbor belts the lyrics to Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”

It was ignorable the first few times he replayed it – a little poetic even given the circumstances – but it’s been nearly twenty minutes and you don’t need to be reminded how alone you are. You rocket off the couch and land against the wall with a thud.

“Keep,” knock. “It.” Knock. “Down.” Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

Mr. Neighbor, because you don’t know his name, sings louder.

In the months you’ve lived in this apartment you’ve met your neighbor exactly twice. When you first moved in only two weeks after your break up because Sam’s name was on the lease - not yours – and this was the only place you could find on such short notice in the middle of winter. You had the unfortunate privilege of riding the elevator with him in complete silence, only the sound of your pathetic cries as you moved soggy box after box. He was at least polite enough to take the stairs afterwards. And last month, during a building-wide fire drill because someone on the second floor fell asleep while making boiled eggs. Neither of you felt very chatty at four in the morning.

You couldn’t care less about splotchy cheeks or if your eyes were bloodshot. In your drunken righteousness, you don’t care that there’s mascara running down your face or the sweatshirt billowing around you has grease stains. Something snapped in you. Gritting your teeth, you rush out to the hall and straight for the neighboring door.

Your knuckles sting with each knock but he doesn’t answer until you escalate to pounding against the metal door like the police.

Mr. Neighbor must hear that because Celine cuts off mid-belt. Seconds later the door flies open.

He’s taller than you remember, your eyes level with a hole in the collar of his sweater. When you drag your gaze away from the dip of his throat the combination of tears and booze makes deciphering his face incredibly difficult because he has four of them and they keep moving back and forth in blurry circles. His dark hair sticks up in a million directions. Like he put his finger in an electric socket and then tried to fix the mess himself.

Mr. Neighbor stares at you, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”

“You know,” you start, teetering on drunk feet as you shove an indignant finger into his chest. “Some of us just want to come home from work and relax! Not listen to their neighbors screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“I didn’t realize it was that loud,” he hiccups. “I’ll turn it down.”

It’s hard to be angry when he looks like a mirror image of you. Wet, red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose. There’s booze in the air which could be yours but with the state he’s in it’s doubtful. Who listens to “All by Myself” ten times if they aren’t also sobbing alone in the dark? 

Guilt squeezes your chest. “Sorry, I’m just…rough day.”

Mr. Neighbor doesn’t say anything for a long time, appraising you silently. If you weren’t drunk off your rocker then the fact you aren’t wearing a bra and the old sweater you tossed on does nothing to hide that fact might be embarrassing. Or how you aren’t even wearing shoes, just fuzzy socks with a hole in the ankle. You also smell like a drunk elf who escaped the North Pole.

“It’s okay. Sorry about the music.”

Mouth moving before you know what comes out, you stop him from leaving just yet. “Why are you crying?”

“Stupid shit. Why are you crying?”

You want to brush it off. You’re not looking for pity. Sam objectively sucked, and your relationship would’ve ended one way or another. Sometimes, it just feels good to cry all the frustration out and wish the worst on people. And you really would prefer not to do either of those things with your neighbor you hardly know. 

Especially, when you realize he’s objectively hot even through the blur of tears and intoxication. But alcohol has a way of loosening even the tightest lips.

“My ex got engaged.”

His eyes widened in shock before softening in pity. 

“Do you wanna come in?”

You don’t sense any ulterior motive. Mr. Neighbor has the vibe of someone who never met a stranger, one of those people you tell your life story to in the airport when your flight’s delayed only to leave and realize the only thing you learned about him was he also hated airline food and thought flying first class on domestic flights was a waste of money.

Maybe whatever “stupid shit” he was crying over can be a distraction from your own baggage. If it can’t, at least the invite to complain to a person completely unexposed to the drama of your love life wasn’t half bad. 

However, you don’t know him. His stupid shit could be infinitely worse and then you look like the asshole while he’s crying over his childhood pet passing away back at his parents house while he’s stuck in his apartment because flights during Thanksgiving are ungodly expensive.

Either way, another person to whine about the world with sounded nice.

You say yes.

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[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

1  2  3  4  5 7

Chapter 6

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: implied possessive and obsessive themes/actions/behaviors/thoughts, reader is one second away from having a panic attack, indirect mention of death, mention of murder, implied toxic family/child abuse, very, very light choking, mention/possible stalking, Toxic marriage/relationship, Reader is so done mentally despite only living in the Argece mansion for one (1) day, Reader becomes sassy, jealousy, everyone ooc

NSFW warnings: Very suggestive, throw back to their first time, implied dacryphilia

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE THEY ARE BOTH ARE  EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS 

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DON’T INTERACT/REBLOG WITH FANDOM STUFF DNI AND PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS

= = =

“You never once referred to Dion as your husband.” 

“P-pardon?” 

That caught you off guard. Frankly speaking, calling the man your husband aloud is stomach-turning. Not that you would admit that, or rather not that you could. The punishment you would receive from Lant if it were to ever reach his ears…

 “Well, we haven’t been married for even a week.” Carefully explaining yourself, you scan behind her to check if anyone was there. “So, I am still a bit shy about it.” You smile shyly. Blood rushes through your veins and you can hear the thundering pumping and feel it. 

Your blood becomes ice and skin slime as Roxana observes your behavior and reaction before making a move. Fresh coral lips tug into a soft smile as Roxana sees past your lie and stares into your soul. Her eyes remind you of your husband’s; glowing scarlet that curtains their true emotions and thoughts. 

Sinister or otherwise, you’re afraid to drown in them. 

“I see. That’s adorable.” She reminds you of a venus fly trap; inviting only to trap you. Even so, her ‘affection’ towards you nearly has you tripping on your feet. No. This is how she gets people. 

“Lady Roxana, I had a fun time speaking with you.” You halfheartedly bid her farewell, bowing. You plan on walking the moment you raise your head. What you don’t plan on doing, however, is returning to your chambers immediately. 

Ah, but… where would you even go? 

“Oh, right. Do you remember the way?” she blinks at you while you blink back. Your mind is a void - absolutely nothing in it. Next, she laughs. 

It sounds like bells on Christmas, a chorus in the church, that exciting and relieved feeling you get once you hear ‘shift’s over,’ from the managers. Head full of cotton, you allow yourself to simply enjoy this moment. Once the blissful laughter has ended, she offers to guide you.

Personally. 

“O-oh, it’s fine - “ you just got mind fucked - Roxana willingly go anywhere near Dion’s room? Something’s not right. You take a step back. 

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” You give her a faux smile, worried.

 Worried for what? Your safety? The possible argument that could break out between the two half-siblings? Seeing something you’re not supposed to? Or having to awkwardly stand to the side as Dion acts weirdly and creepy towards his sister?

“It’s fine; I’d like to get to know you more. We’re family now, so it’s natural.” 

We’re family now. 

“...I’ll accept then. Thank you for taking care of me.” The scream that wishes to burst from your chest, the saliva drowning your gums and mouth, the quiver that threatens to take over your body - you hold it back. You have to. 

“It’s not a problem.” 

Fear prevents you from asking about Hana. 

You follow once she starts to walk, the sound of heels hitting the floor echoing. Even her back is elegant - perfect form, back straight and head up. Carrying an air of sophistication and confidence, Roxana Agriche deserves the female lead role. Her blond waves lightly bounce with each step. 

She is the definition of beauty. 

And as a dedicated fan - also driven by fear and mental stress - you will stay steps behind her. It’s for the best, it’s for your safety. Walk in her shadow but not at her side. Let the spotlight shine on her so you won’t be noticed, left alone by anyone and everyone. That is one plan for survival. 

“Oh? Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were behind me.” The fifteen-year-old girl waits for you to join her side after stopping, refusing to walk another inch until you do so. And your eighteen-year-old self  hesitates - not because you feel inferior to her. God no, but because her mind is a puzzle you can’t solve. 

You don’t have the power to read her thoughts. You are only able to guess. 

This isn’t fiction anymore. 

“It’s fine. I was also lost in thought.” Busy with admiring her rather. You pick up your pace a bit if only to please her. She resumes guiding you once you’re right by her. Nothing falls into place despite observing her from the corner of your eye. You don’t sense anything.

No hostility nor mischief. There wasn’t a hint of pity on her face. Mockery was also absent, genuine joy nonexistent. 

“If I may say, you’re more lovely than I heard.” She compliments you, offering another one of those sweet smiles. And like the fool you are, you trip over both your feet and words. 

“A-ah, you’re too kind. If anything, the saying goes towards you.” Your neck feels hot and your mind is turning to mush. “Truly, you are indeed an interesting person.” 

She stops again, taken aback. But she quickly recovers before returning back to the conversation. “Interesting? You’re the first person to describe me as such.” 

“That’s a surprise. I thought many would have.” You think about it. What was the first thing everyone notices about Roxana? Her beauty, of course. 

But, as a reader, how could you ignore and forget her personality? 

…then again, this entire time you were mentally obsessing over her appearance and voice. You were no better than everyone else.

You take a turn in the ridiculously long hallway. Just for a moment, tranquility replaces the harshness of reality. Funny. 

One moment you’re afraid of her and the next she brings you peace. She’s a bit easier to deal with than Dion. Softer, gentler, and outwards she is humane. The most sane family member in this hell. 

“We’re in the main hallway.” Roxana informs, and the staircase looks familiar. When you had made your way with Hana to the dining room, you were disorienting so hard you didn’t even realize your feet were moving. 

“Up these stairs and we’ll be closer to your room.” Roxana tells you, a hint of disgust in her voice. Aha. So she doesn’t want to go near him. Then why guide you? 

“Oh,” you say, “how nice.” How wonderful indeed, seeing the husband who left after your first night, who’s acting weird, who’s brutal personality is hidden beneath a layer of indifference, who probably stalked you while - 

Oh. 

Oh God. 

“? Are you okay? You look pale.”

Roxana’s question brings you back to reality. Blinking, you try to calm yourself before your breathing gets heavier. Your heart won’t stop rattling. Your blood won’t stop rushing. Your ears are ringing. 

Never once did you think of the possibility that Dion Agriche had stalked you during the duration of your engagement. The shampoo, the sheets, that horrifying look in his eyes - 

“Oh. Oh, yes, of course. I’m just a bit… nervous.” Did he stalk you? If so, why? To drill even more fear into you, to show you that he could easily cause you harm? To silently threaten the safety of your family if you were to ever act out? 

“But yes, I’m fine. Just need a minute to gather myself.” 

Either out of curiosity or obligation, or even consideration, Roxana lets you do just that. 

- - -

You got to the door sooner than wanted. Way too soon. 

Despite the show your sister-in-law displays, she can’t hide the disgust and hatred in her eyes as she stares at the heavy double doors. You don’t blame her. Even if he acted out on orders, your husband still killed her brother. Their brother. 

He also attempts to harm her mother. Just to see her cry. 

…would he do the same to you?

“Well,” turning to her, you show a smile. It doesn’t reach your eyes. You’re too tired to even try. “Thank you for showing me the way.” 

You open the door before she could even get a word out. Shut it behind you before every single ounce of bravery evaporates, leaving you a slimy mess. Monster or not, Dion Agriche is still your husband. And, as you were raised, you have to play the role of his wife. 

 His pretty, little, obedient wife. 

Only to see that no-one is in the room. 

“...haha…wow…hahaha!” like a mad woman you giggle, falling to the floor as your legs give out. Was it from stress? Relief? Does it matter? 

You’re happy - you don’t have to see his face for a bit longer. Even if it’s only for a minute, you don’t have to be in his presence. But with happiness comes realization - Dion will eventually show up. He told you such. 

“...I… I just want to sleep.” Your shoulders slump as you become boneless - so much happened within the span of a few hours. Odd behavior, old memories, confusing feelings - you’re not meant for this environment. Forget about being murdered or tortured - your mind would dismantle before anything could happen. 

The floor is uncomfortable but all of your strength is gone. Were you always this weak? This hopeless? So much that you couldn’t even last a single day. Pathetic. 

“...” ahead of you is the bed. The same bed you lost your virginity on. The same bed you will have to share with your arranged husband. It was comfortable, but the fact you laid with Dion on it makes you sick. 

You’d rather sleep on the floor. 

Moonlight fills the room from the glassdoors closing off the terrace. Jeremy said you should escape. Is it worth it? Was jumping off the terrace to attempt an escape worth it? Would you survive it? 

Get caught? 

Die?

Your mind is becoming muddy. You haven’t even met with Lant yet. The worst of the worst. Yet here you are, already thinking foolishly. Of course you would be caught. Dying wasn’t something you wanted to do, though. Neither was being punished for attempting an escape. 

Your ears perk at the sound of the door opening behind you. 

“Do you find the floor more comfortable than the bed?” Voice low and deep, Dion doesn’t even properly greet you. Well, not like you want to either. 

You want to tell him to try it in spite. But you’re too tired to even turn around and face him, much less stand. His footsteps get closer until he’s right behind you. Your eyes shut close. 

“Wife.” He calls once, and you don’t respond. You don’t want to.

You want him to stop calling you that. You want him to stop talking to you. You want him to stop existing. 

His footsteps echo in the room before he kneels in front of you. Finally, you look at him. What type of expression are you making? 

His hand is cold as he brings it up to cup your cheek. Scarlet that glows in the moonlight that looks at you in such a strange way. Do you know what was swirling in his eyes? Do you want to?

“...Dion. Welcome back.” acknowledging him, you peel his hand away from your cheek. He already touched you the night before. That’s enough. 

Instead of leaving, he grasps your wrist. Firm enough to where you couldn’t tug your hand away. You eye it before giving up. Just for now. 

“I’m sorry, but i’m too sore from last night,” you say, assuming that sex is on his mind. Obligation, lust, routine. Either one could be the reason. 

“I’m not here for that. Nor do I want it.” 

Your head tilts to the side before he continues. “Father expects us to dine with him tomorrow.” 

“I see. Is that all?” 

“You look dead,” free hand cupping your face - again - Dion gently swipes his thumb under your eye. “Worse than when you showed up for dinner.” Hah. Is he enjoying himself?

“I’m just tired,” lying your eyes travel to your lap. “I’ll… if that’s all, then I’ll retire to bed.” You want him to leave you alone. You want to go home. 

On shaky legs you force yourself up and your husband lets go of your wrist. Your knees buck as you walk towards the bed. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. All you need to do is make it to bed. Changing clothes isn’t even on your mind - you just want to lay down. 

“You’re not going to change?” Your husband inquiries. What was wrong with this man? He barely spoke a word to you before the wedding. He left after cumming and leaving you alone, in pain and shivering like a fucking newborn foal. He didn’t spare a fucking glance at you during dinner until his siblings showed up. 

“Where is Hana?” You ignore his question, focusing on the one person who doesn’t feel like a death trap. 

“She retired for the night. On Roxana’s orders.” 

“What? Why?” you almost get whiplash from how hard and fast you turn your head to look at Dion. Your husband has been looking at you this entire time. 

“She didn’t think I’d show up here.” 

I wish you didn’t. I wish you would have stayed indifferent as you were until today.

“Oh. Then, I’ll just sleep like this.” Flopping onto the bed, you kick your heels off. The corset is still tight, and it makes it harder to breathe. But you refuse to ask him for help. 

Thankfully, your husband makes no move to. Instead you hear him walk and the sound of the closet opening. Ruffling of the clothes before it stops. From what you heard, nothing dropped to the floor, rather, heavy boots walk towards the bed until they stop right behind you. 

Amazing how being so mentally and physically worn makes a person forget their survival instincts. How it makes fear turn into annoyance and gulps become huffs. 

But annoyance becomes confusion when something soft and loose lands on your back. Did he just… throw something on you?

Why can’t your husband just pick a side? Decide to ignore you. To be nice to you. Not go back and forth like it’s a fucking swing boat. 

“Wife,” there he goes again with that dreadful title, does he not remember your godforsaken name? “You won’t fall asleep with it on. You’re unable to.” You’re one second away from tearing your hair out. One second away from strangling him. 

You can regret everything tomorrow. 

“... Will you leave me alone if I change?” Supporting yourself on your shoulders you crane your neck to look over your shoulder. Your husband only nods, not explaining why he’s so insistent on having you change. 

You’re so done that you don’t even realize he’s enjoying this side of you. Your frustration, your annoyance, all spent and directed towards him. Tomorrow, when you’re of clear mind you’ll freak out, kicking and yelling at yourself for risking making him mad, only to question why he didn’t say anything in the first place. 

“I can’t reach behind my back,” you communicate to him, waiting for his reaction. A reply that may never come. 

“Just lay face down. I’ll untie it and won’t touch you further.” You wish he would leave and maybe fall down the stairs and break something. Ah, but maybe Lant should go through that instead. Break his neck and lay there, lifeless. How would the scene play out after that?

“Alright,” you give in, preparing for a war that doesn’t exist. Dion removes whatever he threw onto your back before nimble fingers quickly and carefully undo the strings on your dress. Once he’s done with that, he works on the corset, completely gentle. 

Wait, something wasn’t right. 

“Wait, how do you know how to undo the strings so quickly?” Waiting for his answer, you don’t make an effort to watch his reaction. You’d rather not look at the man who’s walking on thin ice right now. Yes, you are going to consider chucking yourself into the nearest river tomorrow. If you could find one. 

“... I was taught.” 

“By?” 

“A teacher.” 

He leaves it at that, choosing to leave out the details. It makes you suspicious. …was he also taught those techniques by a so-called teacher too?

Considering the amount of wives Lant has, STDs most likely don’t exist in this world. Regardless, the mere thought of your husband sleeping with someone before you irritates you. Not because you were jealous or anything of that sort, no; but because it was hypercritical. You were expected to stay ‘pure,’ a virgin while -

“You are the only person I’ve touched, much less slept with.” Was he a mind reader? Or were you just that obvious?

“As your wife, I think I should meet and thank your ‘teacher.’” Exhaustion does wonders to a person. The brain doesn’t work as it should and fright is no longer a thing. Instead it’s replaced by reckless behavior and a clouded mind. 

“Although, I do wish they also taught you aftercare.” 

“That person,” Dion begins, “is someone you know but are unable to see.” Sure Dion Agriche, sure. “As for afterwards… Father called for me.” 

“Mhm. For what?” Cold fingertips barely graze your spine as he looks at your skin. By now everything was untied yet the male doesn’t move. With lidded eyes he considers biting it. But he’s already breaking his promise by granting himself the pleasure to graze it. 

And you’re giving him a pass, perhaps with a blurred mind. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be having this conversation, much less show something other than fear in his presence. 

“To discuss further action regarding our marriage.” 

“You know,” you yawn out, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “most people in arranged marriages would refer to the marriage as ‘this,’ not ‘ours.’” The call of sleep is tempting you. 

“I’m not most people.”

“I know. If you were then you…” 

“Then what?”

Then you wouldn’t be a product of two insane and mental people. You wouldn’t be so jaded nor affection starved to the point you consider hatred as it. You wouldn’t have killed your own siblings or live solely to make one cry. You wouldn’t wander around the earth until your sister decides to kill you. 

You change the subject. “You could have let me finish at least once. It was my first time - you’re supposed to make it a positive experience.” Why you brought this up, you’re not sure. You doubt he feels guilty about it. 

“...Should I make you now?” He traces your spine, the cold sensation making you shiver. Odd. His touch doesn’t feel as gross as earlier. You must be going mad. 

Even more so since you’re hallucinating the hint of hunger in his voice. 

“No. I hated the entire thing. Just jerk off and I’ll shove it in, or something.” The idea of his cum going anywhere near you repulses you, but you understand your role as a wife. His wife. 

“You also found my crying cute. I don’t like that, I actually hate it.” Was communication always this easy when your body is boneless and mind worn? Was he so talkative because he’s tired as well? 

“I can’t help it, “ Dion rubs circles between your shoulder blades and it makes you melt. For a split second, you forgot who you’re talking to. Where you were, who your husband was, your in-laws forgotten. For a moment, everything was ordinary and domestic. 

“I enjoy seeing you cry.” His fingers travel higher until they are at the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse. He wants to squeeze it, see you squirm. The urge to make you cry over and over again from overstimulation gets harder to resist. You’re allowing him to touch you, to see the skin of your back, to see you so vulnerable - surely, you could offer him a taste too, right? 

“...You’re not supposed to be this way.” A light chuckle comes from your chest. “You’re supposed to be brutal, selfish, unredeemable - well, you probably still are, but still. You’re not supposed to be married nor basically asking your wife to fuck.” 

You go on. 

“You’re not supposed to be this way. You’re driving me crazy, acting so different from what I know.” You’re supposed to be the character that was written in the series. Not… whatever this is.

Maybe you misunderstood his character. But you never did finish the novel and the webtoon was put on hiatus because of the shit the artist went through… you hope she’s doing better now. Way better. 

“Even Jeremy and Roxana are behaving weirdly.” You leave it at that, becoming silent. Dion doesn’t say anything. 

You decide to ask him a question that’s been nagging you ever since he mentioned his ‘teacher.’ 

“Oh, by the way… how would you react if I also had a ‘teacher’?” An undertone of teasing laced your voice - of course, you didn’t mean it. Unless it was a lover, you wouldn’t sleep with anyone outside of marriage. Although, you never did enter a relationship once prior to your engagement. 

The atmosphere becomes stiff. You suddenly remember who you’re dealing with - an Agriche. Dion Agriche, to be exact. 

Horror spreads throughout your body once you realize just what you asked him. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him lean over you, fingers putting slight pressure on your neck, a silent threat to choke you. He’s like a heavy cover, you can barely breathe. 

When he talks it’s lower and deeper, sinister and possessive, his breath hitting your ear as he answers. 

“Easy. I would kill them.” 

[hanrinz]

STARRY EYES SPARKIN' UP MY DARKEST NIGHTS.

pairing. lyney x gn! reader ( word count. 1.1k ) genre. strangers to lovers

synopsis. wherein lyney falls for you literally and figuratively, and he doesn't mind it quite a bit. or just bits of pieces of him trying being a romantic.

content. fluff, reader is not the traveller, flirty lyney, he's ooc sowsaury everyone, lynette is tired with the two of you. minimal proofread.

notes. hihi this is for @sixosix da only real one this is for u!! *does that corny pointing in movies* dribble dribble shoots! i just rlly need to write for him, bc he's a silly.

lyney was never star-struck, if anything he was more used to people being enchanted when they saw him.

but he would never expect it to happen to him, after all only the most beautiful things can capture the eyes of a magician—with life full of unexpected encounters and lively colors of shows—to all of which he found on you.

you, who came to the lands of justice from the lands of freedom—never being tied down to the shackles of laws—with an ecstatic gaze, you're here as where the winds have brought you. truly he thinks the momentary sight of you just by walking in the streets of fontaine didn't give enough justice for him to memorize your face. the sunlight that just makes you shine more and the way your eyes reminds him of the stars, warm they were.

and your smile. archons, he adores it. the way it just never leaves your face, you're so pretty.

he never knew anything about love, only with the books he grew up with of a fairytale he reads to his siblings at night—a hopeless romantic he was.

love at first sight. he was falling, hard and fast. like he was tumbling down into the bottomless chasm of just you. he's liking it and it should take him aback, it should scare him, but he can't find himself to do so.

it was unbelievable and it was magical to be able to know a feeling that you can know so much, but was foreign altogether. he knew right then, he was star-struck with you.

and he doesn't know what compels him to move and make his way to you. excitement dancing around his nerves as he nears you, with a smile on his face and a newfound fascination.

and just before he reaches, an unexistent rock trips him all the way to you.

it's embarrassing, lynette thinks. watching his brother fall in love, that is—literally and figuratively.

he flashes a smile at you. and you crouch down, asking him if he's okay. you're worried and he tries not to grin so much, he only replies to you with,

"i'm fine, now that you're here." he winks.

he took it as a chance to take out a rainbow rose out from his sleeves handing out to you. and you laughed, probably another thing that he finds enchanting—it's unfair, for you to have him this entrance by you.

what a memorable first meeting he had with you.

lynette cringes—her brother's antics are an embarrassment to die for. it's not a crime as far as the laws said so, but she sure hopes it is.

because now, his brother is here head in the clouds with the thought of you. his face all, but with lovey-dovey eyes.

"isn't y/n so pretty?" he sighed dreamily.

lynette looks at him with a blank stare, "you've said that for the thirteenth time today. yes, y/n is pretty."

"should i prepare a magic trick? maybe a dove or a bunny. it can be onstage, or just in the seats? ah, i have so many things to prepare..." and so many more, if she was a stranger, she would've thought her own brother is outrageous for the ideas that come to his mind just to woo you. "come now, dear sister for i have to prepare for my special guest."

it's a feeble attempt, really.

his own brother faltering down, just from you standing in front of him and anyone might not see it, but she knows his own brother.

lovestruck he was. when he took you to him showing his trick of lighting up the night in a single snap, a flower on your head magically placed delicately and he thinks you're just pretty.

"do you like it?"

another rainbow rose.

"they're pretty.."

your mesmerization, it takes his breath away. if anything he wants you to look at him, how you look at everything you love. he wants you to love him too, like how the stars never leave the skies and how the sun reflects its light on the sea.

he wants you just like how his hands die in need to reach you, how can you be so cruel to him this way?

and he breathes out, "i know."

"do you like dancing?"

the both of you stand on the stage, where you sit in one of the carts that has all their props now kept for their next show.

"back in mondstadt, we had a festival that we celebrated...and we would dance at night till the flowers fall." you recount, fondness creeps up on you with the memory.

he knows this, windblume—if he's not mistaken, he shouldn't be. after all what are those books he read for night after night just to know the culture of mondstadt? just to know you. you didn't need to catch wind of that, he can only hope charlotte wouldn't slip up with this one on you.

he imagines, you dancing with a smile on your face that he loves so much. and he wants to see it, to be able to live that vision in his head, but having you in his arms instead.

"would you dance with me then?" he offers his hand, making a little bow to you.

and you giggle, yet again at his antics. "i would love to."

"may i?" and you take his hand, he feels warm, giddy from how your hand fits together with his.

with a smile he holds you and leads you to dance to a sound the two of you can only hear and maybe it's the heartbeats that plays in your mind, but lyney thinks everything just seems more beautiful now with you here.

he's used to everyone's eyes on him as a magician, it's a normal thing. but to have you this close to him and your eyes on him, he thinks the spotlight doesn't make him special now, just the way you do.

if this was the fairytale he's known all his life, he hopes now that it will always be like those ever afters. don't wake him up and drop the glass of his heart, because he has so many more dreams he'd like to come to life with you.

he's memorizing the story now, how your eyes shine and warms him wholly, your hair dancing around as he sways you and your lips that holds a sound that he would like to hear every day.

the song ends and your hearts sync. he let's go and step back to kiss your hand, delicately with him keeping eye contact and it means so much more.

and he pulls out yet another rainbow rose out of his coat, and his eyes glazed. "it's windblume this season in mondstadt, isn't it?"

passion and romantic encounters.

"...let this rose be my oath to you."

oh, how the magician can be much of a romantic all for you. he hopes he'll be the first and the last one to give you such a gift.

◞♡ likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! here's a lyney fic bc i have beef with him <3

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Lyney, Aether and venti’s reaction to them breaking their once so cheery darling? They barely talk, eat, drink plus the blank look in the darlings eyes

i apologize but i won't be writing for mc's anymore so Lumine, Aether, Stelle, and Caelus are no longer available for requesting :[ i hope you enjoy lyney and venti though!

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against will, being mentally broken, delusional behaviors, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Lyney would be heartbroken, he hadn’t meant for it to happen, really! He just, he was so busy with performing and ensuring that his siblings were both okay that he had forgotten to socialize you. He had stopped by daily to drop off fresh food and water but outside of a five minute check in to make sure you weren’t dead and couldn’t escape, he hadn’t had much time to hang around.

“Oh dear, what am I to do now?” Lyney paces the room uncertainly, hesitant to even look over at you. He didn’t like the way you sat there so mindlessly, hollow eyes staring blankly ahead as you simply exist. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t supposed to happen. Lyney had tried everything he could think of to jog you back to reality, bringing you some of your favorite things to do, offering you your favorite foods or even to go outside, but none got any response out of you. So now, he walked from end to end of the room, hat in one hand and teeth chewing anxiously on the other. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want this, he didn’t deserve this.

Yandere!Venti would be rather indifferent to it. He knew that humans had much more fragile mindsets so he had seen this coming. In his eyes though, you’re simply putting up less of a fight now! You’ve become the most perfect, compliant darling he could ask for!

“Good morning! I hope you slept well.” Venti’s voice is cheery as he helps you to sit up in bed, setting up a breakfast he had made for you on a try on your lap. He ignores the way your eyes stare blankly into his, or the way you don’t respond to him, that’s ok! He doesn’t mind spoon feeding you your breakfast either, he thinks it’s more romantic that way! “I hope you’re excited, today is pancake day!” Everything was so much easier with you now, no more fights or crying. Venti really liked this new you.

[snorky]

You Can Hate Me If You Want, But Your Desires Don't Lie

Hey y’all! Here is a Quinn Hughes, very cliché, enemies to lovers, snowed in a cabin trope. Besides that, I’m very proud of how he’s doing so far in this season, and I am very excited to see it continue. I hope you all have a lovely holiday season, and take care of yourself!

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Slight bickering, nothing more nor less.

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As he looked outside the cabin’s living room window, the snow didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. It fell from the darkened sky like meteorites crashing through the atmosphere endlessly.

“It doesn’t look like Jack and Luke are making it up here soon,” he cursed under his breath.

She lounged in a leather reclining chair across the living room from him, watching him intently as he reached into his pocket for his phone to call his siblings. 

“Tough, huh?” She rolled her eyes in annoyance, knowing that she’d be snowed in the cabin with Quinn for the next day.

He gave her a dismissive glance. “Feeling’s mutual,” he mumbled.

Between Quinn and her, things had been sour since middle school, and with his younger brother Luke being best friends with her, he couldn’t avoid her. Every time she was around, his breaths were uneven, words caught in his throat like fish in a net.

He didn’t know why he disliked her so much, or why she seemed to dislike him back. Nonetheless, his heart may or may not have harbored a slight crush on her, as immature as it was, but he tried to push those feelings aside. Perhaps for a few days, few weeks, months, however long it was, it all turned into years it seemed.

Stolen glances, unspoken tension, lightning struck between them, thunder rumbled underneath the surface.  

Luke picked up the phone on the other side, answering Quinn’s call. All she could tell from his tense expressions was that the two younger brothers couldn’t make it up to the cabin. When he looked back at her, he didn’t seem too bright and happy, although he never did have a satisfactory resting face in her opinion.

“They can’t come up because the snowfall is too much,” he sighed. “I guess they didn’t check too far ahead for the weather.”

Humming in response, she turned her attention back to the book she had in hand. She was not too entertained by it, but it held as a distraction to keep her gaze away from Quinn. It was the cliché “best-friend’s-older-brother” situation with him, but as much as she hated the thought of it, she couldn’t help but keep lingering stares on him.

He was just, too pretty, too ethereal. It’d be a sin not to admire someone so beautiful.

Rustling noises came from the kitchen area, presumably Quinn searching for snacks in the pantry. Luckily for him, they had both already brought snacks and some non-perishable groceries to the cabin, stocked in the fridge and in the cabinets.

“Quinny?” She asked in a sing-song tone, cringing internally at her antics. “Can you make a bowl of popcorn for me?”

“Yeah sure, whatever,” he responded, irritation laced in his voice.

Grabbing a bowl, he poured some premade popcorn into it, being quite generous knowing that he’d be mooching off of her bowl because ‘it tastes better’ despite the popcorn coming from the same bag.

As he handed the bowl to her, he stood there idly beside where she sat, a blank stare drawn on his face.

A confused expression formed on her face as she looked up at him. “Are you going to sit down or—?”

“That’s my seat,” he stated plainly.

“You don’t ‘own’ seats, Quinn.”

“No, I know,” he said as he grabbed a handful of her popcorn and stuffed it in his mouth. “But still, that’s my seat.” 

“That’s my popcorn!” He shrugged at her reaction as she reluctantly got up from her seat, moving herself to the couch beside it as Quinn took a seat in the recliner.

She gave him an annoyed look before turning her attention to the TV, putting on some sappy Hallmark Christmas Movie. It was the same old thing with each new movie, but it was such a classic. Tear-jerking, seemingly impossible circumstances combined with romance could never go wrong, to her at least.

“This movie again? Really?” Quinn scoffed, his hand motioning at the TV. “It’s sooo cliché—like you know exactly what’s going to happen next,” he said, slumping into the recliner to the point where it’d seemed like he had become one with the chair.

Grabbing a piece of popcorn, she put it in her mouth, slightly entertained by his ramblings. “Go on.” She motioned.

“What do you mean?”

She let out a small laugh, “Keep talking, since you seem to hate Hallmark movies so much.” Her lips upturned into an amused smile, watching Quinn intently as he tried to explain himself.

“Well, it’s just boring, I guess, in the sense that it’s the same remake with a slightly different plot,” he said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

“Yes, but so are most movies,”

They both fell silent, the sound of the sweet-jolly Christmastime music humming in the background as the movie continued to play. It remained like this for a while before Quinn moved from his recliner, getting up to turn off some of the lights in the cabin, dimming the living room slightly.

She noticed his absence, and she quickly got up, moving herself to the recliner, and positioned herself comfortably before continuing to watch the movie, her legs swung over the sides of the chair.

As the movie went on, she became extremely invested despite seeing this movie on multiple occasions before. Her eyes never seemed to drift away from the screen that illuminated the living room, a gut-wrenching, heart-aching scene displayed on the TV as she watched intently.

The two lovers seemed to look at each other in the eyes with such sweet, pure desire, their lips parted in gentle laughter, warm breaths visible in the air as they held hands and stood close. Soft Christmas lights fluttered in the background, seemingly drifting like fireflies around the couple as they danced in the snow.

Quinn came back shortly, his footsteps as quiet as possible as he noticed her comfortable position as she rested on the recliner. He grinned mischievously to himself, knowing that the idea that he had in mind would most likely end up in consequences.

“Boo!”

She let out a blood-curdling scream when Quinn scared her, popping out from behind the recliner suddenly with a scary-looking mask over his face. 

Laughing at her reaction, he moved the mask off his face, letting it sit on the side of his head instead, his messy brown hair slightly stuck to his forehead, a wide grin on his face.

“Wow, you were so scared!” He continued to laugh, hand on the back of the recliner to stabilize himself, meanwhile, she had a rather irritated look on her face as she repositioned herself on the recliner. 

Her face heated up in embarrassment, a flush of warm red on her neck and cheeks. “What the hell, Quinn!” she grumbled, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. “That was not funny!”

“You should’ve seen it though,” he chuckled, laughter dying down a bit. “You almost jumped out of your seat!”

Turning her back to him, she faced the TV and continued to watch the movie, attempting to ignore him for the rest of the night. The classic silent treatment. A couple of times she almost faltered, small talk easy to her lips when she was around him, but she held her silence.

However, Quinn didn’t seem to like that, slightly disappointed in the absence of her voice and lack of attention on him. “Hellooo?” He waved a hand in front of her face, causing her to move her head slightly over to see the screen. “Heyyy?”

Plopping himself down on the ground next to the recliner, he leaned onto it, letting out a sigh as he rested his head against it. His hand trailed to her bowl of popcorn, taking a piece or two, and to his surprise, she didn’t seem to mind.

As the movie went on, he slowly became more and more invested in the movie, each scene seemingly more magical and intense than the last.

 “Anyone home in that empty head?” Her voice snapped him out of the trance that the movie had on him. 

He quickly looked up at her, a little embarrassed that he was caught watching the movie as well. “Yeah,” he spoke quietly, the words leaving his mouth like a whisper. “What’s up?”

She grabbed a piece of popcorn and tossed it in her mouth. “Nothin’, just thought you hated Hallmark movies,”

“I don’t hate them—”

“But you said you did?”

He paused and thought about his words, remembering his previous statement about the topic earlier that night. “Okay, well, maybe I magically got blessed by the power of Hallmark movie magic and had a change of heart suddenly,” he spoke in a sarcastic tone, making her laugh.

Rolling her eyes at him, she chuckled. “Okay Mr. ‘I-Had-A-Change-Of-Heart’,” she said as she got up out of her seat. 

As she walked to the kitchen, her bowl in hand, his eyes watched her curiously, wondering what she was doing. Once he heard the water running from the kitchen, he assumed that she was just washing her bowl, and so turned his attention back to the movie.

It was only a few minutes too late until he realized that she had broken her oath of silence.

“You did it! You spoke!” He got up from the ground like an excited toddler, or rather, a young child who just won a game at recess. “Ha! I knew you couldn’t ignore me for the whole night!” he said smugly, walking into the kitchen to join her.

She remained focused on her task, not turning to face him as she finished off rinsing her bowl, but her lips parted as she responded to him. “I could never, Quinn,” she spoke, her voice smooth like honey to his ears. “Could never ignore you.”

Butterflies seemed to be pinned to the insides of his stomach, fluttering as a slight blush was dusted on his cheeks. “You as well,” he spoke under his breath, nervous that if he was slightly louder, she would catch on to the shakiness of his voice.

He walked back to the living room after grabbing a blanket from the closet nearby, settling down cozily on the recliner as he continued to watch the movie. Shortly after, she came back into the living room, lying down on the couch on her side to face the TV.

The night only seemed to grow colder as it went on, the heating seemingly doing nothing in the cabin. Quinn only noticed a slight chill in the air, but she felt like she was freezing. Her hands felt cold, as well as her feet and the tip of her nose. 

She shivered slightly, curling up instinctively to try and keep herself warm. He looked over at her in slight worry, his scary-looking Halloween mask still resting on the side of his head. Getting up, he grabbed his blanket and placed it on her, causing her to look up at him in confusion.

“What? No—” She pushed the blanket back to him, making him hold it in his hands. “You can keep the blanket since it’s cold,”

He shook his head in opposition, denying the blanket. “You need it more than me,”

Looking up at him, she got up from the couch, standing with her face mere inches away from his, her hand lightly ghosting up his arm, memories sparkling in his eyes like a sunset on the lake in Michigan. His eyes softened as he looked at her, a wordless ‘do you want it?’ being asked, with her nodding her head.

As soon as she did, he pressed his lips against hers frantically as she leaned in closer to him, his hand snaking its way to her lower back, pressing her closer to him. He gently held the side of her face, thumb stroking her warm cheek with delicacy.

Her hand went to the back of his head, deepening the kiss as her fingers entangled themselves into his soft hair, hearing a sigh fall from his mouth as she did so.

They pulled away from each other breathlessly, their lips slightly parted and swollen from kissing, a pretty shade of rose covering their faces. He let out a small laugh, a sweet one as he held her close, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he said bashfully, smiling awkwardly, and yet he was still so pretty in her eyes.

“Really?” Her voice was quiet and unsure, needing some sort of confirmation that he wasn’t lying. “I thought you were annoyed by me?” She sat down on the couch, moving over slightly so that he could sit down beside her.

He let out another laugh, sitting down with her. “I could never be annoyed by you, I just thought you hated me.” It seemed like a weight came off of his shoulders as he said that, getting the words off of his chest. “Sorry—”

She kissed him again, holding his face gently on both sides, silencing him from talking as she pressed her lips onto his, feeling him relax into the kiss. Pulling away, she spoke quietly, “You know I could never hate you.”

The look in his eyes could only be described as ethereal, glimmering like snow as he looked at her. “Promise?” He held his pinky finger up, a gesture of eternal promise in his heart.

She locked her pinky with his, “Promise.” Her smile seemed brighter than the sun to him, it was his warmth, comfort. 

They both rested on the couch, maybe even thankful that his two younger brothers couldn’t come up to the cabin. The movie continued to go on as they both cuddled up to each other, blanket over the both of them, Quinn’s arm wrapped around her waist.

It was just the perfect cheesy Hallmark ending that he would’ve hated so much, and yet he savored the moment of her, asleep in his arms, his own eyes growing tired and sleepy. 

[the-tech-turn]

UNFINISHED

Summary: Crosshair finds Tech's old journal and reads through it.

Word Count: 1,136

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, s2 spoiler

A/N: This takes place right after the ending of episode 4 s3. I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO FINISH I PROCRASTINATED TO HARD! This was supposed to be my 50 follower celebration but now it's the 151 followers celebration! Now everyone say thank you to my bestie for peer pressuring me into finishing this and proof-reading this.

The moment Crosshair walked onto the ship after reuniting with his brothers he felt like something was off. He knew Tech was no longer with them but as he looked toward Hunter in the pilot's seat he knew it was wrong. That was Tech’s seat. Tech was supposed to fly. Tech was supposed to be there. Tech was supposed to be here. Yes, Crosshair may have reunited with his family but not all of them. Not his genius brother who would never stop talking. Oh, what he would give to hear his voice geek about different kinds of insects or Wookie culture. Crosshair gets up from his seat and walks into the barracks. He walked up to Tech’s bunk staring at all the projects that would never be finished. Gently, he moved the projects enough to sit but still kept them in relatively the same spot. He didn’t want to disturb Tech’s things. ‘He never let us near them anyways,’ he remembered. He threw his head back, a mere attempt at holding back his tears. He missed his brother. Then a thought came into his mind. A long time ago Crosshair had given him a notebook. A real paper notebook. Tech hasn't used it much since “ It is a precious gift that I do not intend to misuse.” He wondered if he ever had used it. He looks around his bunk seeing nothing. He looks under the bunk and in every place that he can think of to find the book. But he couldn’t. ‘Maybe he lost it or threw it away. Wow, Tech, really showing its “value”, he pauses. ‘ Or maybe…it was on Kamino.’ He didn’t like thinking about it much, but the day the city he was raised in drowned was the day he lost all of his memories as a cadet. He recalled the time he first gave Wrecker Lula. Or the time Hunter had come up with the name the “ The Bad Batch”. Or when he found Tech’s hiding place for his datapad. The memory reminded Crosshair of the hiding spot he and Tech used on the ship. Crosshair used it to store his toothpicks, but Tech used it to hide what he deemed valuable.

‘Maybe, just maybe, it was in there.’ Crosshair crawls across the bed stopping when he gets to the edge of the bed. He reaches over to the side of his bed and carefully pries open a panel. With his hand, he searches for the notebook in the dark box until he locates the small red booklet. He grabs the book and flips through it. ‘Yep, he definitely wrote in it,’ but as Crosshair continued to flip through pages he realized just how many pages were blank. Never to be written in. Never to be drawn on. He got up and sat on Tech’s bunk once more. He opened the book, analyzing the handwriting. He saw how the handwriting improved with every entry. While skimming the book one word caught his attention. “Race”. Omega has told him about the time they were bodyguards for someone named Cid and Tech was forced to race to keep everyone safe. “ What’s so important about a mission on some sketchy planet?” Crosshair wonders. There was only one way to find out so he started reading.

I had won the race (obviously) but to my surprise, the crowd cheered which is not uncommon at such events. I've heard their screams since I arrived. I also had full confidence in my ability, but hearing them chant my name with so much excitement, along with the praise from my siblings, I felt an overwhelming joy. All my life I had been made fun of, due to my enhancement. Mainly by regs, I have also endured endless teasing from my brother's thanks to my constant "rambling". It no longer bothered me much but it took a lot of self-reassurance to get to such a point. Little praise was given to me, the only source of which came from my brothers. No one else had a reason to provide that to me for it was my purpose. But now there are hundreds if not thousands of people admiring my skill. It felt nice, to say the least. 

Crosshair gave a soulful smile. ‘ He had been mocked all his life, and I participated in it,’ he admitted sorrowfully, ‘At least, he didn’t hold it against me.’ Crosshair lets out a sigh and flips to another page. Crosshair pauses, his name on the page. Hesitantly he begins reading, afraid of Tech’s true feelings towards him after everything. He could only hope his brother didn’t think poorly of him.

Omega asked me why I didn't care about Echo leaving us and while I think I responded appropriately the interaction got me thinking about Crosshair again. I’ve tried to forget, but that plan was flawed. How was I supposed to ignore him if I didn’t want to? I eventually came to accept his decision but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. In all honesty, I miss the times when we’d cause trouble in the mess hall. I miss when we’d compete in who shot more droids. I miss the moments when I work on a project and he’d sit next to me and clean his rifle. I miss when we would be up at the latest hours when I would ramble about anything and everything while he’d try his best to stay awake. He enjoyed sleeping a lot so it was difficult for him, but I appreciate what he did. I miss when things were simpler- no that is incorrect. I do not miss fighting for the republic. Back then we had to risk our lives, we were mistreated, we didn’t have Omega and we couldn’t choose for ourselves. I miss Crosshair. But I don’t think I’ll see him again. But, if there's one thing certain about Crosshair is his loyalty. That was evident when he stayed with the Empire. It never falters but it can shift when the loyalty isn’t mutual. I believe that is why he left us. When we denied the Empire he felt that we denied him. I do not regret leaving the Empire but I do regret not taking Crosshair with us. I find myself replaying recordings of him when I am in need comfort. It’s the closest thing that I have to him with me.

Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. He should’ve come back sooner. If he had his brother would still be here. Crosshair looked around the room and studied it. He sees Tech’s projects, equations, and blueprints. All are things that Tech never got to finish. Looking down towards the journal, Crosshair decided to complete writing on the book. So it didn’t have to remain unfinished. 

EXTRA: Here's some old art I made when first promoting this fic.

[perfluorononanoic-acid]

Oooh I have a request! The youngest Itoshi f!sibling neglected over many years after both brothers prioritse football. Has a moment of realisation and decides to put herself first and move on. Stops messaging in family chats, calling, birthday wishes, festive greetings etc. Moving on and finding better for oneself ~~!

Synopsis: Itoshi Y/N was never the first priority when it came to her parents and her two older brothers that were pursuing football. She has a moment of realization that no matter what she does she will never be any of their top priorities, and so she decides to cut off contact with her family and pursue her own passion of sport.

Content Warnings: angst, u realize ur self-worth, neglect, platonic!Rin Itoshi x reader, platonic!Sae Itoshi x reader, good ending

Word Count: 788

Author’s Note: I tried to fill in the blanks for some of this, I hope it’s to your liking, dearest!Tysm for the request! Requests are still open!

_______________________________

There was another family-friend reunion of sorts happening and Y/N had to sit at the far side of the table as she constantly heard her parents boast of her brothers’ accomplishments. She sighed and just stared at her plate aimlessly toying with her food as nobody spared a single glance her way, until one random adult spoke up,

“And what does your nice daughter over here do?”

She quickly perked her head up with slight excitement from the attention and said,

“Oh well I do [insert sport]!”

The adult politely smiled at her comment and was about to respond until her brother, Sae, finally walked into the room and everyone directed their attention towards him leaving Y/N forgotten once more. With some disappointment in her eyes she just turned back to her plate and continued to silently stare while listening to everything around her. Everyone was congratulating Sae on his triumphs and his becoming of an international star, he simply nodded not really showing much care as he was only visiting Japan for a few days before leaving again. Rin was brought up into the conversation too, being praised for becoming another upcoming star, Rin followed his brother’s actions in nodding and mainly staying silent. Hunched over in her chair, Y/N slowly turned her head to her brothers’ direction, watching as they were showered in compliments and praise while she was just the only person sitting at the table now. Rin looked in her direction and saw her staring, but acted as if it was nothing and directed his attention to the adults praising him as if he were a god of sorts. She decided to stop her staring and focused on her plate once more while thinking,

I’m tired.

I want to go to my room and sleep.

I wonder how [friend’s name] is doing at [insert sport].

I want to go to the [insert sport] meeting.

Nobody would notice if I leave anyways, I’m kind of worthless staying here.

Why do I even bother trying to be part of this family?

As her mind continued to wander, she quietly got up and walked out. Nobody even noticed she left. Her mother didn’t notice, her father didn’t notice, Rin didn’t notice, and Sae most certainly did not notice nor cared to. Y/N called her friend to ask if the [insert sport] meeting was still going on, and thankfully it was as she rushed to the train station to get there. Once she had arrived she swore she would no longer affiliate herself with her family due to the countless years of neglect and missed opportunities her family caused for her. She also swore she would practice [insert sport] extremely hard and become even more known than her brothers.

As time passed she kept to her oath and did not communicate with her family at all, not even sending any holiday messages and such. She still missed her brothers very much as she remembered them trying to teach her how to kick a ball into a goal when she was very little. She grew sad at the thought, but remembered she was no longer going to try and be the initiator to try and get their attention. If her brothers wished to speak to her, then they must do so themselves. She slowly but surely made her way to the top of [insert sport] and became internationally known just like her brothers. As she was about to get up from her seat, she heard her phone buzz and saw it was from an old group-chat that consisted of her, Sae, and Rin. There was 5 minutes until she had to go out, but she opened the message which read from Rin,

“Good luck we’re out here if you need anything”

She took a slight peek and scanned the crowds until she spotted Sae and Rin sitting amongst the crowd with both their arms crossed. She smiled to herself; she finally was able to be seen by her brothers once more.

________________________________

[zaimta]

彡MIHAWK ROMANCE GUIDE

paring: zoro x gn!reader

zai says: the official hcs!! i'm a firm mihawk fam believer

ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

zoro picks up on mihawk flirting when they go out once in a blue moon, or from how mihawk interacts with his s/o

he doesn’t ask him about it either he just sees it happening and remembers it, perona peeps how he’s always around when mihawk is doing stuff like that and bullies him for being a secret hopeless romantic (sibling core) whole time he’s just trying to be a better boyfriend for you even tho he won’t see you for 2 years

mihawk who notices himself at first he tries to be subtle about it because he only agreed to help him with swordsmanship not matters of the heart but zoro wouldn’t get the hints so he had to be direct

“you’re looking to impress your s/o, yn are you not?”

he gives him a crash course and perona helps too, zoro would ask perona about it and she makes y’all’s relationship her business

“so how many dates have you taken them on? ooh and where did you go?” zoro looks deep in thought trying to recount all the dates the two of you have had, the fact that he might not be completely hopeless in the romance category excited perona “three i think.” she gave him a blank stare “wow you’re helpless it took you that long to remember three dates”

despite how much she bullies him she loves hearing about you, zoro only tells her about you and y’all’s relationship every once in a while because he doesn’t want her prying in his business (he does it anyways)

when y’all reunite for the first time every thing ab him is different, and the way he kisses you is completely different too it’s a little rough but with big hints of passion and class hands rubbing circles on the hips for good measure

he kisses your hands too, normally it happens when he’s holding you hand he brings it up to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it, palm kisses also especially if you work with your hands all the time it means way more

neck kisses?? they’re precise and calculated knows the specific spots that work for you and some times it ends it him kissing your collarbone

the way he speaks to you would change slightly too, he’s aware that you’re his s/o and compared to the rest of the crew he should treat you differently he does and he doesn’t at the same time

pet names between the two of you would still stay behind closed doors, but sumn ab the way it rolls off his tongue got you weak in the knees

he would say “i love you” more (well at least more to his standards) because he lost you for a whole 2 years he learned to cherish the time he has with you now

still lives for putting his hands on his hips, no matter how much he changes that will always stay the same it’s his go to place for his hands

[smoothielenny]

ʟɪʟʏ ᴘᴀᴅ

Part Two

Ao’nung x Human!fem!reader

Summary: your mother finally allowed you to go outside and explore your new home. Your excited to meet some new friends, but that excitement died quickly when you are treated horribly.

Warning: bullying, teasing

[one•two•three•four•five•six•seven]

It’s been two day since your mother permitted you to go outside. You’ve been having fun seeing the world around you. Playing with kids (who eventually be pulled away when their parents saw you.), watching Lo’ak fail his lesson (your very own entertainment) and just admiring the ocean. You’re not bum out like your siblings when moving here, in fact you’re excited to know about a new type of landscape in Pandora.

You went outside this afternoon after lunch wanting to make those sand castles you’ve saw from your late mother’s pictures. You found a great spot where it’s close to the water yet won’t wash away your sculptures. You happily pat your sand bump trying to remember those sand castles and copying them.

While enjoying your activity, two metkayina boys known their presence by kicking your sculpture. Your eye’s furrowed and look up at them, cheeky smirk on their faces. You pouted your lips looking back at your destroyed sand castle. The joy you had minutes ago gone because of these assholes.

“Hey, demon! Why don’t you go back to your marui so we don’t have to see you!” They snickered saying those words. Your face seems hurt from what they’ve said. You’ve never felt any sadness from someone treating you like crap, but this one, no one ever called you a demon, well except when you first arrived here (by the Tsahik.)

You stood up and look up at them, “what’s your deal!?” pushing them lightly showing your anger. All they did was giggle, what would a small mere human would do anyways? You look to weak to even beat them and that is true, Neytiri always treat you like a fragile glass, she never let you go out unless someone is with you, not being Lo’ak.

“We don’t want you here, leave!” They yelled. Your face drop from hearing that, you’ve been ignored or glared before because of you being a human, but not saying something like that. It’s just horrible. Your eyes started to water, lips trembling, body stiffened. You feel like breaking down in front of them and that’s the reaction they wanted from you. To cry before them.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” All of you turned around where those words came from. It was Ao’nung, the boys then fled not wanting to deal with him. You knew Ao’nung by Lo’ak, Neteyam, Kiri’s story and all of those stories combine lead to a conclusion: he’s a mean one.

You look down refusing to make eye contact. Is he also gonna bully you too? Like the way he did to your siblings? Well that wouldn’t be a surprise.

“You alright?” Your head lifted facing at him. His face is blank, you couldn’t tell what emotion he has on his face. As if he’s dead, but it might just be the lighting. You nodded backing away a little from him. Feeling a bit queasy near him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” He said and turn around going back to his own business. He doesn’t seem so bad from what you’ve heard. You tiptoed following him, but Ao’nung knows, your little feet making sounds with the sands is enough to know you’re behind him. He turned around staring down at you. You look up at his ocean eyes still looking dead.

“You should go back to your marui, or else they’ll be back again.” You shook your head and walked close to him, “but if you’re near me, you’ll defend me, right?” His cheeks warmed quickly. Well you are right, he won’t allow those skxawng bully you again. It hurts to see you like that taking those words from them fro some reason. You are pure to his eyes and he won’t let anyone dirtied you.

You both have been walking in silence, no idea to break it. You were too distracted on seeing a lot of new trees, ilus, and others. Ao’nung on the other hand is a nervous wreck, tho he hide it very well. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, if he open his mouth he thinks that words would be fumbled when they come out.

“What is that?” You pointed at the creature that has a wings yet can still swim. He looks at it and smiles, “it’s a skimwing, only the elders can ride it.” You nodded. You continued to watch it fly, it reminded you an ikran, you love riding on an ikran with Neytiri, if she has a free time she usually takes you out with Tuk to fly at night.

“I wanna ride one!” Your excited tone made Ao’nung’s heart warm. He likes seeing so excited. Few days earlier you were finding some good shells to use for accessories and you find a big one with pretty colors shine when sun hits it. Unbeknownst to you, Ao’nung was watching you a few yards away, not wanting to be caught by you and definitely not wanting to be caught by his sister.

“If I’m old enough to get one, we could ride it… together.” His last word was a whisper, but you heard it and turned around showing him your smile. His heart beating so fast seeing your beautiful smile. He was in paused for a bit until waving your hands cut it off.

“You alright there?” You asked with concern. He just nodded. You both continued to walk, now talking to each other with no hesitation. While walking you heard your brother, Neteyam, calling your name. You turn around to greet him with a smile, he also gave you a smile then it turn into a blank face when he saw Ao’nung.

“(y/n), mother is worried, you should go home.” He said as his eyes glare at Ao’nung. You just nodded and walked passed him. Before Neteyam follows you he gave Ao’nung a word, “try hurt her, your gone.” Then he left. Ao’nung didn’t know Neteyam could be this threatening, but he doesn’t plan to do that to you anyways. He just clicked his tongue and walk to his marui.

To be continued…

Tag list: @myh3artt

(Comment if you wanna tag in next chapter)

[hymnserendipity]

Shinichiro introduces his partner to his younger brothers

Angst, bit of fluff?

"It will be fine!!!" You say, smiling at your boyfriend Shinichiro, before opening the door of his grandfather home to finally meet his siblings. Shinichiro was nervous. He grabbed the knob and took a deep breath before he finally opened the door.

The other 3 Sano kids were in the living room, watching a movie. They were laughing and talking, until they saw the two of you enter.

They stared curiously. Shinichiro awkwardly scratched his chin, and spoke up.

”Guys, I want you to meet someone very special to me.” He said, as you stood behind him with your hands in your pockets.

"HIIIIII" you smile. ”This is my s/o, (Y/N)” Shinichiro said. Mikey, Emma, and Izana stood up and approached. They looked at you with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

Emma smiled softly, and Mikey seemed indifferent. However, Izana just stared at you with a blank expression. Shinichiro smiled and placed his hand on your shoulder, as he continued to speak.

"Y/n, these are my younger siblings. This is Mikey, the youngest. That one is Emma, the second youngest. The quiet one over there is Izana. They're the most important people in my life, so they're gonna be as important to you too."

He smiled softly. Emma smiled awkwardly but Mikey and Izana just stood in silence, studying you.

"Hi everyone! I'm happy to meet you all." Emma smiled warmly and ran up and gave you a hug. ”It's nice to meet you too! Shinichiro has told us a lot about you! How long have you two been dating for?"

Mikey just shrugged, but Izana stayed quiet, studying you as he stood with his arms crossed.

"Six months!"

”Six months? Wow! That's impressive! You're Shinichiro's longest relationship ever!" Emma said, while thinking that you are actually Shinichiro only relationship ever. She seemed very excited at the prospect of her older brother having a s/o.

Mikey still didn't really seem bothered, but now even he was paying attention, looking up at you with his usual bored expression.

Izana, on the other hand, was a tough one to read. He just stared at you with his cold eyes and a blank face.”Come on, Izana. Say something!" Emma said, nudging his arm.

He stayed quiet for a few more seconds before he spoke, his voice cold and emotionless. ”What are your intentions with my brother?"

He had a stoic expression, but his voice betrayed nothing but a hint of protectiveness of Shinichiro. "To love him as he love me, stay by his side no matter what.” you gently reply.

"Hmph. As if someone so weak deserves any love, to begin with"* Izana scowled.

Shinichiro's face darkened as he heard his brother say that, but he kept quiet, a pained look on his face.

Emma just shook her head. ”Don't be like that, Iza! We all love and support Shinichiro, but we need to trust his s/o too! I'm sure they're a great person!"

"I- i baked a cake for you all..." You put on the table a little box. ”You made us a cake?" Emma said excitedly. She didn't notice your sadness, but Shinichiro did.

He put an arm around you, pulling you into his side. He knew that his brother's words stung you, and he wanted to make sure you were okay.

Izana still looked bored, but he had taken an interest to the cake now.

”Come on, guys, what are you waiting for? Let's try it!" Emma said, as she grabbed a plate and a cake fork, getting ready to taste the cake you'd made.

Mikey sat up a little bit, curious now. Shinichiro smiled and kissed your cheek, trying to cheer you up from Izana's previous comments.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

HIII CAN I PLS PLS HAVE ANOTHER X SIBLING!READER?!??

Your sibling and child fics are the cure for me rn AND THEYRE WRITTEN SO GOOD OMFGG

I was thinking one about Tom and Heidi’s wedding or when Bill walked down the runway when he was younger (does that make sense 😭) I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND TAKE AS MUCH TIME AS YOU NEED🫶

-xoxo, gossip girl💋

(Hello! Ahh! Ty sm for your compliments and I have been waiting to write another sibling reader!! I'm glad you love my writing and I will probably do both but here's just the first one for now! Enjoy!)

Sibling Duty

Tom fixed his shit in the mirror, shaking his hands out of nerves as Bill stood behind him and fixed his brother himself.

They stood in a comfortable silence, but we're able to hear the deafening sound of the door clicking open.

"Don't you look fancy."

Tom smiled as he heard your voice, looking to see you smiling at him in the mirror as he turned around.

"(Name)!" Bill exclaimed, excited and walking to give you a hug as you wholeheartedly returned it.

"Hey! You got here on time." Tom smiled, reaching an arm out for you.

"Don't act like I'm the one who's always late." You said, grabbing his arm as you got pulled into a hug. You then pulled back, staring at him for a moment before you fixed his collar.

He rolled his eyes, you always did this ever since he was younger and refused to dress up, so some things never changed.

"You kinda are-" Bill tried to interject.

"Shush, altar boy." You hushed your youngest brother as Tom laughed, turning back to look at him in the mirror as you kept an arm around his shoulder.

You stared at your brother for a moment, a blank expression on your face as you took it all in.

"You're such an ass…" you suddenly stated out of the blue.

"How?" Tom scoffed, looking to his older sister in amusement.

"You went and grew up on me." You stated, the almost happy and sad tears now visible in your eyes as Bill held onto your arm.

Tom laughed as well, a more happy and sad one as he wrapped an arm around you.

"You guys were so little! Now you're old and I'm fucking older!" You exclaimed, Bill laughing as he put his head on your shoulder, now a bit harder to do as your younger brothers had both grown taller than you now.

"But you're happy for me, no?" Tom asked, pulling back to look at you with a smile as you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I am. Feel bad for Heidi, though-"

"Why?!"

"She's stuck with you."

Tom gave you a dead pan before rolling his eyes, walking to the door as you and a giggling Bill followed.

"Well, let's get you to that altar." You said, grabbing your brother's arm as Bill did the same.

Tom couldn't help but smile as it felt just like when you guys were younger.

Still hand in hand with his older sister to help him through something, the good and the bad, especially the good.

And you couldn't help but smile, a bit of nostalgia hitting you like a ton of bricks as you walked your younger brother with your arm in his to his future wife.

[randomwriteronline]

"I trust I have chosen you well."

The structure was sprawling. On one hand, it had to be expected - the Makuta assigned to Metru Nui would not have resisted a dose of fanfare to their abode, settled as it was in the second most important location of the universe; on the other, it felt a bit surprising, because rather frankly the city had not appeared to have the necessary space for such a thing with how densely packed it was. Then again, the lair tended to develop vertically and was situated in Po-Metru, easily the most desolated district.

They had tried to commit its plant to memory as the tour went on, but with little success. They would have to acclimate to the winding nature of its shape and the position of the rooms in time.

Norik bowed his head briefly in a sort of long nod, knowing these things were heard even when unseen: "We will prove as much, Makuta."

"I do not doubt it," Teridax replied with the low hissing voice of his kind.

His feet were heavy on the floor, causing a very strange and distinctive sound that echoed between the walls and had so far determined the rhythm of their "relaxed march", if one had to describe the pace at which their group had moved through the structure.

It was as such a little bit jarring when they produced a curious muffled shuffle as he stopped, a little ways from a door leading to a staircase.

"I would request another duty for you to take on, as well," he explained. His hand gave a little flourish, akin to a (somewhat flustered) wave. "It is a lesser one, in a sense - it shouldn't be too hard for you."

"Certainly, Makuta," Norik replied. His siblings nodded with him, truthfully a little curious.

"I would like you to look after my..." the hulking being blanked for a moment, voice cutting off and glowing eyes staring into the void. His long fingers clenched into a half-hearted fist as he seemed to think as furiously fast as he could, settling on a word that he still didn't seem too sure was correct: "Apprentice. As well."

That was a surprise - information on the inner workings of the Brotherhood wasn't exactly abundant, but nobody had ever heard of them taking apprentices before. A recent member of the Makuta species, perhaps? But Teridax would have likely called them "sibling" instead, if that were the case. The being had to be something else... Skakdi weren't quite that bright, but maybe a Vortixx? A Steltian? A Matoran or Toa, even?

Teridax continued, regaining composure with a wave of his claws: "Though he is far from newly made, his experience of the universe outside of the Brotherhood is very limited, if not skewed in certain places. I hope a team of Toa such as yourselves would be a good influence on him."

They weren't sure if that was a compliment or not.

It probably was, by all means, and they were in no position to complain either way.

It was just that this whole deal sort of sounded like they were being treated as a pack of Hapaka hounds put to the ferocious protection of one singular Mukau.

Still, because they had been chosen by Teridax himself and to plainly tell him they didn't think that was a task befitting them would have been incredibly rude to say the least, Norik again voiced his siblings' carefully worded thoughts as they all bowed their heads: "We're flattered, Makuta, and we will do our best. Is your apprentice busy at the moment, or would it be fine for us to meet him?"

"I fear that will have to wait. I have sent him to one of my brothers," Teridax replied. "Guests tend to make Pohatu rather... Excitable."

Pouks made a strange face.

He regretted it when the Kraahkan turned to him.

"What is it?" the Makuta demanded.

"Ah - nothing," he tried to lie, opting then to diminish the truth: "I remembered something, but it's nothing important."

"Do share." the other insisted. "I am curious."

Oh, this was the worst. Pouks did his best not to sink into his shoulders and through the floor as he embarrassedly explained: "It's just an old legend... According to some, the Toa Mata of Stone is also called Pohatu. I was only surprised by the coincidence."

Teridax did not respond to that for a moment, completely frozen.

At last, his voice emerged from the depths of his gargantuan being in a somewhat strangled tone: "Indeed."

Perhaps he was planning to clear his throat with a half-hearted cough afterwards, and return to the topic of orientation, leading his newly appointed Hagah up to the rest of the lair.

He did not manage to do any of that as a atrong wind suddenly rushed right behind him and straight into the staircase, following its spiral design until it hit what was presumably a very far away wall with a loud 'thunk' - a sound which winds have a tendency not to make when coming in contact with walls, as they are composed of an element that under no circumstances goes 'thunk' upon impact.

Thoroughly spooked, the Toa jolted and held their tools a little tighter.

The Makuta, for his part, widened his eyes and gazed into nothingness for a second or so in horrible, horrible realization.

"Excuse me," he mumbled at the six before making his way to the entrance of the stairwell in what he certainly hoped would be a sufficiently dignified manner of leaving the scene.

He got past the doorway, though not by much; then, whatever had rushed up the steps came back down like a small slavine, and the massive being had to abruptly cut his height in half with a hissed grunt as the noticeably shorter thing slammed itself in his abdomen at the speed of a magnum bullet.

The Toa were about to intervene as they noticed his arms shoot forward to contain the menace, but instead held themselves back in baffled silence when he patted its head.

"Are they here?" an excited voice asked.

"You should be with Krika," Teridax wheezed without answering.

"He said you were getting a Hagah team so I wriggled out of his lair and ran over as soon as I could!" the voice explained still bouncing with enthusiasm, like traveling the entire distance between Metru Nui and Zakaz, apparently by foot and possibly with the same velocity it had just displayed, was a normal thing to do.

Which, considering the Makuta's reaction to the information was only to ruefully pull his head back and heave a deep sigh of disappointment (very likely regarding his more somber brother), it seemed to indeed be.

From behind the massive being the new guest finally caught a glimpse of the six warriors standing still as statues just a couple bio away: overwhelmed by excitement, it pressed harder against Teridax as if to slither through the gaps in his armor, managing to get most of its body across before the Makuta finally caught it by the legs and was this able to hold its noticeably Artakhan build in place, while its orange eyes smiled brilliantly through the elongated sockets of its brown Kakama.

"HI!!" the Toa Mata of Stone yelled at them as he waved his hand at terrifying speeds: "DO YOU WANT TO SEE MY HORNED RAHI?"

The six Toa felt the ability to speak leave them.

Before their wide eyes, the figure of legend was at last scooped up in Teridax's palms, sitting between the mighty claws as snug as a kraata despite being roughly ten times the size of one, dangling his legs like a Matoran on a ledge and still beaming at them with a wide excited grin behind his mask.

The Makuta made a small sound, like a wheezed whine. He seemed a little embarrassed.

"I was hoping to stage a more elegant introduction," he half lamented - rather melodramatically, which made the being in his hold giggle. "But I suppose Destiny is at work against me."

-

"Do you need help, Gaki?" Pohatu asked, suddenly stomping to a stop.

Gaaki thanked the Great Spirit she hand a tendency to clench around herself when scared, otherwise the crate in her hand would have ruinously slammed on the floor and whatever it contained would have likely gone to pieces.

"No, thank you," she replied as gently as she could with a wobbly smile: "I've got it all handled here, you don't need to worry."

"Are you sure? I know these are pretty heavy, and the stairs are terrible - especially when you've got your hands full," the other Toa insisted gently. He faked a little gun show for her, lifting his short arms - it did make her chuckle, and he seemed to relish in that: "I can carry one or two so you don't have to take too many trips down!"

"I don't want to distract you from your duties..."

"Oh, I don't have anything to do right now. Or ever, really. I'd love to lend you a hand."

She fumbled with the crate again.

"Alright," she acquiesced, "If you want to, I won't disdain some help."

Pohatu beamed brilliantly.

He lifted the second crate with a short grunt, settling it to the top of his head for stability, and gladly hurried in front of her to lead the way. His armored feet were surprisingly light against the ground, quick and nimble in a way they certainly didn't look: Gaaki struggled to match his pace, though it thankfully became clear she didn't need to - as he stopped to wait for her at every corner, very aware of his speed.

She hadn't expected all this eager helpfulness from Teridax's protégé.

Or from a figure of myth, either.

She couldn't say she was complaining about it, though.

"It's Gaaki, by the way," she told him him just as he began too speed off again.

That made him stop in his tracks, precariously balancing his weight on one foot in a rather dangerous way: "What?" he hollered back as he managed to set himself back upright without breaking anything.

"My name is Gaaki," she repeated, "With a long A."

"Ga-ah-ki?"

"Exactly like that. You said Ga-ki earlier."

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get it wrong."

"Don't worry, it's a common mistake. You'll get the hang of it."

He looked to the floor sheepishly either way.

He fiddled with his crate, balancing it a little better to take his mind off his slip-up, and headed for the stairwell leading down into the laboratory's storage.

Gaaki found him a few steps down already, waiting for her expectantly with his back to one of the walls. Imagining he was used enough to this type of architecture to know the better way to traverse such a narrow space with one's hands incapacitated, she imitated him; and so they began sliding down.

"Where are you from?" Pohatu asked all of a sudden, seeming honestly curious.

"Hm? Uh, the lower archipelago," she replied while trying to focus on where to place her feet, "The right one."

"Oh, opposite of Artidax then!"

"Exactly. A little higher, actually, but - you understand."

"And were you made a Toa? Or were you a Matoran first?"

The strange question made her steal a quizzical glance at him: "I was a Matoran, of course."

Before she could ask him about the first part of his question, he was already moving onto a new one: "So you had a job?"

"Well, yes. I was tasked with supervising the liquid protodermis flow through the canals down to Ba-Koro. Changes in gravity have a tendency to make it act up in certain places, so it was my duty to make sure everything worked smoothly."

"And did you like it?"

She looked around (checking for her supervisor's surprise visits still, after all these decades) before leaning down closer to him so she could whisper in his audio receptor with a conspiratorial tone and eyes telling of an ancient frustrated desperation: "It was dreadfully boring! I've feared for my life before, but I'd rather get turned into a lizard-headed little freak than spend a single day obsessing over tubes and pressures again!"

Pohatu snickered a little despite himself. The mortification that gleamed in his eyes for a moment disappeared the moment Gaaki joined in with her own chortle.

"Was it that bad?" he asked.

"Ah - alright, I could have exaggerated it a bit... It wasn't really bad, just mind-numbing. Which might be worse, really, but it doesn't matter. It's all behind me now - and I could be remembering things worse from how they actually were. I've been a Toa for eleven thousand years, after all, my memory's bound to get spotty."

Pohatu almost tripped as he did a double-take: "Eleven thousand?"

"Yes?"

"And you were a Matoran before that?"

"Yes, for four thousand years."

The Toa Mata seemed bewildered: "You're brand new!" he cried out.

Gaaki blinked.

A strangled cackle of disbelief left her at last, rattling through her chest: "Thank you?"

Of all the things she'd been called in her long life, 'brand new' was exactly the sort that she never would have expected anybody to one day use to describe her.

The stable pavement caught them by surprise. The lab's storage was rather large, looking almost cavernous due to its emptiness: Pohatu made a beeline towards a corner, placing down his crate as gently as he could; the Toa of Water followed suit and left her own cargo nearby, muffled tinkling coming from within.

Just to make sure everything was alright, Gaaki lifted the covers slightly and peeked inside: the crystal vats stood straight and clean, none broken or toppled.

She gave a small sigh of relief.

"Do you say that to all the females you meet?" she dared to tease him now that her concerns had been quelled.

"Of course not, all the others I know are even older than me!" Pohatu replied earnestly with a booming laugh. "Compared to us relics, you just came out of the forge!"

She snorted a little: "Alright, fair enough - and how old are you?"

"Oof, hundred thousand, give or take."

A large number was to be expected (it's really the only fitting answer, for a figure of myth) but it still took her quite off-guard. The Toa before her had every bit the design of something primitively unusual, with a certain almost wild appearance that no other being could hope to match, but his energy and attitude made it frighteningly easy to forget how truly ancient he was.

Pohatu didn't let her dwell on that too much: without fanfare he wrapped his arms around her, hefted her up in the air, and before Gaaki knew it they were back upstairs.

He placed her back down with a careful, bouncy movement, like it had been nothing.

"How many more?" he asked eagerly.

She held onto his shoulders for a moment, trying to steady her head so that her thoughts could clamber out of the basement where the fulminous speed had abandoned them and back into her skull: "How many what?" she managed once her faculties had properly caught up with her.

"The crates," he reminded her.

Oh! Yes, right, the Makuta's supplies, of course...

She turned around, still a little dizzy: a singular large box met her gaze, sitting almost defiantly right where she'd left it minutes earlier as if challenging her.

"One," she replied at last.

Pohatu leaned down to grab it: "I can handle that-"

Before she could stop herself, her hand was already gently patting the top of the brown Kakama and her voice was growing kindly stern again as though she were talking to a rowdy but otherwise well-meaning Matoran: "I've got this. You've been of great help already, but I'll assume you have your own busywork to do, right?"

Mortification crawled over her like a pack of ravenous stone rats as she realized what she was doing.

Much to her relief Pohatu could not have minded her somewhat condescending behavior less, as he leaned into her palm with great enthusiasm, soaking in her thanks like a sponge, before trying to insist more gently: "I have my Rahi, but if you need a hand..."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," she reassured him as she retreated her hand, still embarrassed by her lapsus: "You saved me plenty of time, and even without your speed a single crate will be a breeze to carry."

"But the stairs..."

"You've showed me how to handle those earlier. I'll be fine, I promise!"

"Do you... Do you want to see them, first?"

"See what?"

"My Rahi!" the Toa of Stone started rocking in place, seeming excited. "The Makuta gifted me a few over the centuries and I'm- I mean, if you'd like to - oh, oh, have you ever met a moose? Chirox made it a few decades ago, I have one, she's huge! But she's docile, don't worry. If, if you, want, to come see a moose."

Gaaki thought about it for a moment: "You know," she said at last, silently apologizing to her brother, "Pouks actually has a fascination with large creatures."

Orange eyes beamed: "He does?"

She nodded: "I'm certain he would quite like to see a moose."

The shorter Toa appeared to be vibrating.

He fidgeted with his hands, trying to ask her a question he couldn't quite find the words for, begging for a tacit permission with a sort of eager nervousness; she huffed a giggle and winked her approval, and after barely the time to beam her a smile he was already off, a short lived forceful breeze all that was left in his wake.

-

"Iruini."

The Toa of Air stiffened.

He sincerely wished, upon Wairuha, Akamai and the Great Spirit himself, that Teridax's ability to apparently materialize out of nowhere in complete silence would one day finally stop scaring the wits right out of him.

Nonetheless he did his best to steel himself and straighten his back as he turned around: "Yes, Makuta?" he inquired.

"Pohatu is not in his chambers," the towering being spoke somberly. A tinge of anxiety spread into his words like ink staining water. "Nor have I found him in the laboratory, or any other room. He is not aiding your leader, or sparring with your sister; your brothers of Stone and Ice are with his Rahi in his place."

Ah! So it was just this, thank goodness.

Iruini waved at the Makuta to follow him while he walked fast, headed for a nearby balcony opening onto a large barren plane: "Don't worry - last I checked, Bomonga was keeping him busy."

"And where is Bomonga, if you'd be so inclined to tell me?"

"Ah, but where's the fun in that?" the Le-Toa murmured as quiet as he could while peering beyond the railing.

Teridax's much larger form hunched above him, casting a long shadow over him as he squinted in an attempt to catch at least a glimpse of the black and golden armor his Hagah of Earth wore. There were no such colors upon the dusty barren ground; all that crossed their vision a sudden bolt of brown every now and then, rushing like a crazed Rama across the stone and stopping only for mere seconds at a time to look around with feverish purpose.

Then, the unthinkable: enormous metal pillars sprung from the ground around the maroon spot and snapped shut around it just as quick as an alligator's jaw. The little figure cried out a thunderous 'eep!' as it tried to escape, but it was far too late.

From up on the balcony Iruini smirked with a huffed giggle while the Toa failed to evade his brother's grasp for the fourteenth time, struggling and squirming in it like a kraata. Bomonga's head peered through the ground at last with his usual impassible expression tainted by a glint of amusement in his lime eyes that would have been much harder to notice if his Mask of Growth hadn't turned his features massive.

Pohatu certainly saw it, and replied by giving his gargantuan finger a fake kick in playful retaliation.

"Best of thirty!" he hollered at his captor.

The Onu-Toa found the challenge suitable for a being of his caliber. He placed the Mata of Stone down once more with all the care necessary, watched him zip away laughing for a few dozen bio, and disappeared back into the dirt, like a predator sinking once more into the bog to settle in wait.

Iruini dared turn his gaze away from their game.

Teridax had moved to stand by his side instead of behind him and continued to watch the scene with a relieved smile and half-lidden eyes, anxiety gone from his stance; his claws clacked gently against the railing with a slow, pleased cadence.

His Hagah of Air leaned towards him, prompting him to lower his head to hear his hushed words better: "Should I ask my brother to let him win at least one?"

A low chuckle rumbled through the Makuta: "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" he echoed, stealing an amused glance at the Toa biting his own tongue with a quiet regretful sound, like he'd just been kicked in the stomach.

Down below, Pohatu evaded an ambush with a triumphant cry.

Then he yelped as he fell into Bomonga's actual trap.

His frustrated groan tore a cackle out of Teridax.

"Do remind him to warn me next time he indulges my apprentice, if you would," he concluded while turning away from their game, walking back into the tower with slow steps. "I'd rather not have to fear about his safety again."

"Of course, Makuta."

The faint golden glow of the Kualsi gleamed in the corner of his eye: then the Toa disappeared.

Iruini blinked into the room where Teridax was busy archiving failed experiments in small stasis jars much later. He noticed his arrival only thanks to the curious sound which followed the teleportation - a sort of faint aspirated clunk clicking into place to force an empty space open around a specific shape.

"How is the score looking?" the larger being asked casually.

"They've moved on to best of sixty," the Toa answered without missing a beat.

Teridax bellowed a single laugh. If he could personally meet whoever decided all Le-Toa should have some amount of good comedic sense, he would probably give their hand a good shake.

"What brings you to me?" he drawled, gently shaking the small inert beast in its vat and watching it sway in its dreamless sleep. "I do not think you came to simply rely Pohatu's newest fruitless endeavors against your brother of Earth."

"I had a question about him, actually. Not Bomonga - your apprentice."

The quiet cautious tone was not lost on him, nor the strange feeling behind the last word: "Continue."

"Kualus recently shared with the rest of us an... Interesting conversation the two of them had, in-between their enthusiastic talks of how a horned flying Rahi would feasibly function and fly and sustain itself and so on and so forth."

"I can imagine the topic."

A beat of silence passed. Teridax set two more jars in place, careful to make the least sound possible in case his Toa Hagah had suddenly decided he preferred murmuring over speaking.

The other being did neither.

"Am I wrong, Iruini?"

"You haven't said anything I could refute."

"And yet you do not admit I am right."

"... He spoke of his siblings."

The Makuta's hand stalled for a moment before returning to his work in silence.

"Not much," the Toa added with a certain haste, his usual bite softened into an almost demure tone. "Only in passing."

No answer came.

The pause invited him to continue like a claw poking his spine.

He shifted on his feet. These sorts of dialogues of one rested on his nerves as comfortably as a spiny stone ape perched on one of the astrologers' crystal chairs.

"He didn't have much information on them, anyways," he spoke: "Their current whereabouts are unknown as far as anybody knows."

"They are," Teridax murmured.

Iruini eyed the hulking back as though kraata could have suddenly oozed out of it: "He isn't too heartbroken about that. At least - that was Kualus's impression."

"He isn't."

"Nor does he seem to hold them in high regard," the Le-Toa whispered, "Since he wishes them to be dead."

The vat hit the table with a small firm sound.

A long sigh hissed out of the Makuta; his shoulders lowered slowly, his claws raking across the flat surface without leaving marks, only producing a low grumbling growl.

The Toa withheld as much air in his lungs as he could, finding it very wise to keep quiet.

Not for a lack of questions: he had plenty of those. What the Brotherhood thought of the matter, for example. Or what Teridax thought of it, more specifically. If "apprentice" meant something other than "beloved ward" - if it was a claim of sorts on a being, if it included a certain kind of education they were not privy to, overseen by the Makuta when his Hagah were not around. Had it ever been disclosed how Pohatu had come into their midst? No, it had not. And the idea of the Toa Mata leaving one of their own behind sounded too farfetched to be true. Like a false memory planted by gentle voices, to confuse shackles for silk ribbons.

Silence hung over them like a coat of armor.

He almost jumped when the gigantic form spoke again, thundering voice hushed into the rustling of leaves: "I have told you," the Makuta echoed, "His experience of our universe is limited at best, and skewed at worst."

"And did you work to better it?" Iruini insinuated before he could catch his silver tongue between his teeth.

"We have tried," Teridax replied without any theatrics. "We have taught him what we could, what we knew, what we heard... But we are not Toa. We have our limits. And he is stubborn."

"But to wish for them to-"

"Our sister Tasaphore found him in a tunnel outside Karda Nui, alone, barely able to move through his guilt," the other cut him off. He did not snap, he did not growl; he spoke softly still, not turning around. The tone of his reminiscence colored itself with a faint distant pain. "He has told us little of his time before we welcomed him in our Brotherhood. He prefers not to dwell on those days. All he has remained firm on is that his siblings abandoned him."

"But that is - it can't - their duty-"

"He knows his duty. What do you believe? That he holds the safety of Mata Nui in no regard?"

"And what's he to do if the time comes? He can't pretend to save the Great Spirit on his own just because of a grudge!"

"Convince him yourself, then. Manage what the we, I shall admit, have failed to achieve: dozens of thousands of years we have tried to persuade him at least to forgive, and still he persists in his vitriol. He is stubborn, I told you - a stone that fights against change, against the forces of time."

He turned swiftly, making no sound: his vermillion eyes pinned Iruini in place, instilling in him a paralyzing sense of fear that seemed to snake around his neck like tendrils.

"You are his siblings now," Teridax sentenced with a murmur.

The Toa felt his muscles seize completely.

He shook his head, first slowly, then faster, faster, trying to bargain without words - they could not do it, they could not do it, how could they do it? How could simple Toa like them have taken on the destiny of the Mata themselves?

But the Makuta stared on, his Kraahkan eerily illuminated from within: "You must not share his burden," he whispered. "That is not something I can ask of you, nor order."

Then what?

What was he asking them?

What were they supposed to do?

"You are everything he has outside of this lair - outside of the Brotherhood." the enormous figure spoke with a low, begging tone, soft and quiet. Like a father on his knees, pleading for his son. "His world cannot only be a tangle of kraata, of viruses, of laboratories, severed from his own kin. There are thing we Makuta cannot teach him. There are things a Toa must learn from other Toa."

Unity.

The oppressing feeling lifted from the room.

Iruini gasped by reflex.

Teridax's eyes lost their frightening gleam in the dim light, resembling now only dots of scarlet easily lost beneath the black shape of his Kanohi. He almost looked small, for a moment.

He turned back to his task, his claws curling gently around the fragile vats as he grasped them, inspected them, set them away: "At ease," he murmured without looking at the being behind him as he dismissed him.

The Toa remained still at first. His feet tapped against the ground when he finally began to walk backwards, a little stunted; then a faint aspirated clunk clicked into place, and he was gone.

[nohrslittleflower]

The Strongest “Me” I Can Be!

[Elise second anniversary special!] Troubadour and Faith Mastery (wc: 767)

“Really?! You really think I’m ready?!” The little girl gasps excitedly, practically clinging to the top of the little wooden wall as if the moment itself would collapse were she to let go. The adult behind her — required supervision in a place like this, despite any and all insistent claims of independence and capability — nods. “Recent research has shown soldiers to be of more use to Nohr on the battlefield when they are given a mount. With this in mind it is within our best interest you begin learning as soon as possible.” 

Silence. Despite offering numerous seconds to let the answer sink in, the explanation is met only with the child’s blank stare. Her supervisor sighs. “Yes. You are old enough.”

A squeal cuts through the silence, multiple animals throughout the stable reeling back at the sound; the girl too excited to notice. Her attention is already locked onto the one on the other side of the wall. One whose temperament had been specifically chosen as something to not be startled by such things, unbeknownst to her.

“Hi there! I’m Elise!” Small child beams down at the equivalent-small-for-it’s-species creature, giggling as her new friend gently sniffs at her now outstretched hand. “Hm… you need a name, too, don’t you? How about…” 

The little girl hums for a moment, clearly thinking through this very serious and very important decision. “Muffin! Yeah! You’re Muffin!” ‘Muffin’ pushes his snout into her hand in response, which the girl takes a sign of approval. Her smile widens all the more, swiftly wrapping her arms around his neck, completely oblivious for any potential judgment that may or may not be occurring behind her. 

“You hear that, Muffin? We’re gonna be the bestest of friends from here on out! Forever and ever, hehe! Okay?”

.

.

.

It’s strange how similar it feels now, opening the stable door. The location is different. The context is different. They are different. Yet the joy she feels upon seeing her fuzzy friend’s head peek up over the stall to greet her is the same as ever. 

“Muffin!” Elise lights up at the familiar sight, sprinting to the stall and flinging open the door. As ever, slightly startling all but Muffin with her abrupt actions, to whom she greets with the usual pets and treat. As he deserves, of course. He knows what the correct answer is when she asks ‘who’s a good horsey’.

“Guess what?”Removing her hands from Muffin’s head, she swivels around to the bag on her side. Strategically placed so Muffin wouldn’t stick his head into it in search of more treats, though that doesn’t stop him from trying to sniff around it. 

Unfortunately for Muffin, what she pulls out is not another snack, but instead a paper, large number front and center, circled in red.“You’re looking at a girl who got one hundred percent on her exam! Hehe!” The horse snorts, shaking his head and stomping his hoof on the ground as the paper is shoved in his face (a respectful distance away, of course). A response to which Elise can’t help but giggle. “I know, right?! Everyone’s gonna be so impressed! Elise — master of healing! Conquerer of ALL the academy’s faith classes! Hehe… ha…”

Laughter trails off into nothingness, something about her own words bringing her to a sudden realization. There are no more classes for healing magic. She’s taken them all. She doesn’t have to sign up for another one, spend hours forcing herself to try to study, nothing. She’s done.

Why does it feel like she should be happier about this than she is? She’s happy, sure, but it’s the same happiness it always is when she gets a good grade; a joy in knowing her siblings will be happy to hear she’s done well once she shows them. But that’s… all it is. It isn’t different. Why doesn’t it feel different? She reached her ultimate goal! She achieved everything she’s been striving for since she was a little kid — became everything she wished she could’ve been during the war! This should feel special — make her feel complete or something, shouldn’t it? She’s been working towards this her whole life! She…

She doesn’t have a plan beyond this.

The girl slumps down onto the ground, the feeling of the large and warm body coming to rest just behind her offering the slightest bit of comfort — yet also none at all. She leans back against the warmth, staring upwards at nothing in particular. Somehow that makes it worse.

“What am I supposed to do now..?”

[deuxcherise]

The Buck and the Reynard

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere male, male!buck oc, male!fox reader (doesn't really have to be male, but male pronouns are used), straightness is implied to be the “norm” but nobody actually cares here, makes fun of animal behavior, interspecies relations, some horror element, a bit suggestive but nothing super explicit

A/n: So… oh my goodness. I finally finished it in time for Christmas! You don’t know how many times I’ve re-written this. Anyway, I personally wanted to keep it in a similar style of how I wrote The Hare and the Fox so there is kind of a… I’m thinking eldritch horror element (if I’m using that term right) somewhere in there. The Winter Solstice event written in here is inspired by Christmas, but you don’t necessarily need to celebrate Christmas in order to follow, I think? A lot of jumping forward from each moment but I hope you enjoy every single one~

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there was a clever, clever fox who found itself stuck at the bottom of a deep, deep well.

The fox did not cry, nor did it weep. The fox simply waited until another came along.

A four-legged animal, with cloven hooves and curved horns happened to pass by and noticed this poor fox. “Oh my! How did you get yourself stuck at the bottom of this well?” it asked, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Nevermind that,” replied the fox. “My dear, my dear, won’t you help this poor soul out?”

“Of course!” answered the other. “It would be my pleasure.”

At this, the fox bared its teeth, grinning a malicious grin.

…..

…..

…..

“Roasting chestnuts, over an open fire~” sings your father as he prepares the fire pit, throwing in dry grass and logs to raise the crackling flames.

You come up behind him, bundled arms full of freshly collected spiky chestnuts. Your ears flicker from excitement. “Papa, Papa! I’m done!”

Your father turns around with a jolly smile. “Wow! Great job, son. You’ve done a wonderful-” Then he sees the kid beside you, also carrying an armful of spiky chestnuts, and blinks. “Uh, who’s this?”

You follow your father’s gaze and then turn back to pipe up, “Oh yah, that’s Roo-dee. He’s my rein… Uh… what was it? Something deer. He’s my deer!”

One of your father's ears folds down while the other stays up, matching the position of his eyebrows. “... That true?” he asks your friend.

Rudie nods shyly. “I-I’m his dear.”

“Yah, see?”

Your father stares for a moment, blank as he processes this information. Then he shrugs and says with a smile, “Alright. Well, I’m sure your mama and siblings will have questions when they see him but, uh, let’s get to roasting, yeah?”

“Yah!” “Y-yes, sir!”

-----

“So you’re a reindeer?” “A deer?” “Never seen one before.” “He doesn’t look like one.” “Where’s his antlers?” “Do you know Papa Snow?” “Does your nose glow red?” “Where’s the rest of you?”

All of your siblings and some of their significant others ogle at Rudie, while you stand nearby with your chest puffed with pride. If it weren’t for you and your clever ways, you would have never been able to not only escape from a deep well but also capture an actual deer who’d do your bidding.

Nevermind that he was technically abandoned… and that he’s just a stupid deer who you scared into making a deal to loyally follow you for life in exchange for his own life. Dumb creatures are designed to follow clever beings like foxes, after all. It’s simply nature. He should feel lucky that it was you who found him. Heh!

“You’re a small one, aren’t you?” Arley, the rabbit, says. His yellow eyes are still, in your opinion, as unnerving as the day your eldest sister first brought him home. “Barely nubs for-” he pauses to hold in his laughter, “‘antlers’, huh?”

One might wonder how a rabbit could possibly co-exist within the midst of a skulk of foxes. Well, that’s another story.

“Don’t be rude,” your eldest sister, Eldie, reprimands him, pinching his cheek and eliciting an “owie” and “sowwie, darling” from him. 

“Your eyes look weird for a deer,” your second oldest sister, Deucy, comments. “I thought they had round ones like ours.”

“Indeed,” Theodore, the bear, agrees. “And I’ve seen quite a-”

“Ugh, shut up, Barry, nobody cares what you think,” Deucy cuts in, rolling her eyes.

He grins mischievously at her. “Aww~ Calling me by nickname now, honey?”

One might also wonder how a bear could possibly co-exist within the midst of a skulk of foxes. That’s also another story.

“What’s a deer?” asks Swanson, a duckling.

One of your ears sticks up while the other flops down in confusion. “Who are you?” you ask.

“Oh! I’m babysitting for my friends,” your third oldest sibling answers. “This is Swanson, say hi~ Did you know, his parents are a turkey and a duck?”

“And to answer your question,” your eldest sister jumps in, “a deer is a four-legged creature…”

While they explain to the duckling, you find Rudie escaping from your siblings’ eyeful examination to cower behind you. “(Y-y/n)... There’s so… many… W-who?”

“Oh, these are my siblings. And that bunny is Arley and that bear is Theo and that duckling… Uh, I don’t know but yah!”

“Idea~” your third sibling sings. “Since you two are about the same age as Swanson, how about the three of you play together?”

Swanson nods.

You throw your hands up in excitement. “Yah!”

Rudie mimics you with a softer, “Y-yes…’

-----

“Since I’m clearly the top animal here, I’ll be the king,” you declare with one hand on your hip and the other in the air. You point at Rudie. “You’re obviously my servant. Right?”

“Y-yes, sir!” Rudie salutes you. Whether or not he disagreed deep down, he doesn’t seem to make any sort of gesture or expression indicating otherwise.

Then you point to Swanson. “And you… um… What do you want to be?”

Swanson tilts his head side-to-side thoughtfully before coming up with, “Every king needs a queen, right? I’ll be your queen then.”

You hadn’t thought of that before, but that logic makes sense. “Oh, ok-”

“NO!” Rudie cuts in before he runs over and wraps his arms around you, looking at Swanson and baring his dull teeth, surprisingly unbecoming of a prey animal. “(Y/n) only needs me! I’ll be queen.”

“But you’re my servant,” you reason.

“But he’s a swan!” Rudie retorts. “Swans can’t be with foxes.”

“But deer can?” asks Swanson.

“Besides, royalty can’t be servants, and you having two roles is unfair, anyway,” you add.

“But I’m your dear!” Rudie exclaims. “So that makes you my dear!”

Now that doesn’t make any sense. “What? You’re my deer because you’re a deer. But I’m not a deer!”

Swanson groans, “Ugh, let’s play something else.”

Rudie’s brow is so wrinkled, you feel he might develop a creased forehead despite being so young. “Yeah… ” you sigh. ‘You choose then, please Swanson?”

And so the three of you ended up forgoing “Follow the King” to play “Duck, Duck, Goose”, in which Swanson came out on top while Rudie ended up in third place as expected.

-----🐐🦊-----

Many, many moons have passed and all of your siblings have left the den, leaving you, the youngest, as the only one left who has yet to settle down and have your own kits at your own den.

“My, my~ What a great-looking tail you have~”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, a tight grin plastered on your face as a female fox handles and caresses your fluffy tail.

The Great Feast is held every single year during the height of autumn to gather and celebrate all of the animals who have contributed to the grand pile of food in the middle of the forest. Although all of the carnivores, herbivores, and the omnivores, and whoever else join in one place, surprisingly there is a lack of close interaction between species. In addition to celebrating life, this event is seen more as an opportunity for… something else.

“Have many children do you want?”

“Where do you like to live? Near a river or near a mountain?”

“How good are your hunting or gathering skills?”

“How long can you last-”

“Enough!” you screech. You clear your throat and make your way through the crowd. “Aha. Sorry, sorry. I need to use the bathroom. Apologies. Uh-huuuh. Excuuuuse me!”

With some effort, you manage to wiggle your way out of the group of husband-hungry vixens and immediately head straight for the nearest tree. Hiding behind one, you press your back against the trunk and slide down in exhaustion.

“Please do your best to be polite among others,” your mother had requested. You feel you’ve done your part as best as you can, because you could not possibly stand another second stuck between those suffocating fur coats. In all the blue above, please let this event end already so I can go home and sleep in my extremely comfy nest.

Step step step step.

You look up and find Rudie, hunched over on his knees, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he breathes heavily. The moment his eyes meet yours, you stiffen and then knowing smiles appear on your faces.

“Wow, been running for your life?” you joke, patting the patch of grass next to you. “You scared of getting hitched or something?”

“Hah! Are you?” he throws back at you as he takes a seat and rests his back against the trunk. As his sweat evaporates, a pleasingly sweet aroma of musk and leaves waltzes around in the air.

Adulthood in your family is marked by the mature development of your scent glands and your height surpassing a particular mark on your family's special oak tree. Despite being of another species, Rudie also followed suit, actually towering over you by a head. That was to be expected, considering deer are typically larger than foxes, much to your annoyance.

“Nah. But I'm surprised. I thought your antlers would've sent them running,” you comment, admiring the bark of the trees in front of you.

Oddly, his once tiny, sensitive nubs have transformed into malformed antlers, two large snail-shell-like spirals curled on each side of his head.

He clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

One of your ears sticks up as the other flops down. “Oi, oi. Who are you to tell your king to shut up?”

He playfully sighs. “As your humble, humble servant, I would never dare.. But if I did, my sincerest and deepest apologiiiiies, my dear liege. Please. Continue to insult me.”

You chuckle, a bit ticked. “I would give you a pat on the head for your obedience, but calling me a deer? Insubordinate, and churlish. How dare you?”

“Then… should I call you darling just like Arley does?” he offers.

“Pleeeeaaase, do not,” you chuckle, contemplating on those words. “Ya know… between you and me, I think he calls her that because he actually likes her. What do you think?”

A gentle wind goes by, rustling the leaves.

“... I think he does.”

“Of course, you'd agree with me,” you say. “So~ Meet any cute, uh, doe? Is that what female deer are called?”

“No.”

You notice how quickly his response came. “Uh… so no as in-”

“I didn't like any of them,” he clarifies.

“Ah.” You find yourself momentarily lost for words, seeing as you’re also in the same situation. “Bummer. Maybe you'll meet one in the next Great Feast.”

“I won't.”

Again, his response came quite quickly. So sure of himself of this statement.

“And what exactly makes you so sure of that?” you wonder.

“Because I’ve already promised myself to another.��

Your head jerks towards him, astonished. “What??? Since when? I’m your king and yet why have I not heard of this???”

Another gust of wind brushes past the trees. His expression is blank. The horizontally rectangular black pupils against yellow irises of his eyes stare into yours as if peering through to your soul. He says nothing.

…..

“Um… Rudie?” You wave a hand in front of you. “You, uh, okay?”

He finally snaps out of it, a grin breaking onto his face and turns away. “That’s a secret, dear.”

One of your ears flickers in annoyance, but you surrender since he’s the most stubborn animal you’ve ever met. “Aha fine, fine. Be that way. … And don't call me a deer.”

“Right, dear.”

You groan.

“Wow, so this is where you guys have been hiding. Great.”

Both of your heads jerk to the side towards the third addition to your party, only to find Swanson slouched over and breathing heavily next to you. He looks at you with a scowl. “What?”

You purse your lips, holding in your laugh. “S-So I’m guessing you… ?”

Swanson shakes his head. “Heck no. How you seen those hens?”

The image of those female ducks ripping out each other's feathers over who gets to contribute to the pile of food first appears in your head. “Yup. Anyway, oi. Get this. Rudie’s already got someone.”

“Really?”

Rudie keeps silent.

“What? Not going to tell me?” Swanson asks, though his tone is more like he already knew this would be the case. “I’m guessing you didn’t tell (Y/n) either.” He scoffs and mutters,

“Excuse me?” Rudie says.

“You know who it is?” you ask.

Swanson looks at you, eyes moving up and down over your face. He shoots a quick glance over at Rudie. “Yeah-”

“That’s none of your business!” Rudie shouts, grabbing you by the arm and forcing you to stand up beside him. “Let’s go. The event’s almost over anyway.”

“W-wait a bloody second!” You look back to Swanson as you get dragged away, catching Swanson rolling his eyes before he disappears in the opposite direction.

-----🐐🦊-----

[Several moons later…]

“Dear, would you like a star or a partridge on top of the tree?”

Your ears flops backwards and you click your tongue. “Would you stop calling me a deer? And I'll take the star, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Rudie hums.

You sigh as you sort through a box of ornaments to place on the tree to celebrate the Winter Solstice. Unfortunately for you, a large snow storm had passed over your part of the forest recently, forcing you and potentially all of your siblings to forgo the trip to your family den.

You pick and hold up a shiny red ornament with golden accents, only to catch the sight of Rudie behind it, trying to determine which angle the wooden star should sit on the tree’s tip.

Ever since your first attendance to the Great Feast as adults, he hasn't stopped calling you a deer for some reason. You've tried asking, but then he'd brush you off and call you a deer again. Annoying. What is your future mate going to think if your servant can’t respect you right? Actually, what’s his future mate going to think? Maybe you should consider booking a crow therapist to help him break this bad habit…

Or maybe not. Sometimes… just sometimes, you hope he’s calling you his dear rather than just a deer… You shake your head, ridding yourself of stupid ideas of what you both could be and what you are now. He’s already taken anyway…

On a different note-

You join him, holding an ornament in each hand. “Seeing as we're snowed,” you start off, handing him an ornament to put wherever he likes, “I guess you'll be joining me for the Winter Solstice this year?”

Psshhhhh!

The ornament you gave him shatters on the floor, after he flinched and accidentally dropped it. You look between him and the ornament with speechless concern.

All of the blood in his face looks drained out. “I'm…” He shakes his head and kneels down to pick up the pieces. “I'm sorry. Sorry. I don't… I don’t know what came over me.”

You try to stop him. “Oi, don't-”

“Ah!” He hisses and places a nicked finger into his mouth.

Your brow furrows. “I don't get it. Is the idea of celebrating the Winter Solstice with me or with my family so bad?”

He looks at you frightened, taking his finger out of his mouth. “No! No, not at all. I just…”

“Then why?” you urge him. “Why do you disappear during this time every time?”

“I… I…”

Several reasons roll through your mind before one obvious one presents itself on the front stage. “Oh right, you got a secret lover. Right. Right.”

“It’s not…” He mulls over for a few moments. “It's for your own safety.”

“My safety?” you echo.

He nods, looking at where the shattered pieces lay while he fiddles with his fingers.

You look up then to the side and then back to Rudie. “Listen, I get it. I’m not going to be offended or stop you from meeting your secret lover-”

“I don’t have a secret lover!”

Yeah right. “Then why? What is so important that you end up disappearing during every single Winter Solstice?”

He squeezes his eyes. “You don't… You don't want to know, dear.”

You knock against one of his malformed antlers. “Oi, don't think you can avoid answering by calling me a deer.”

“What's it to you what I do anyway?” he suddenly snaps, making you flinch. “Why do you care? You miss me or something?”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course I do! You're my servant. Of course, I'd miss having you around to, you know, boss around?” you say, trying to lace your response with humor.

He narrows his eyes, then sighs before getting up and heading to the storage cabinets to pick up a broom before returning. “Yeah… sure. Forget it. Just…” He pauses for a moment. “When that eve comes, don't leave the bedroom, okay?”

“Don't leave my room on the Winter Solstice?” you say, pitch getting higher with each word in disbelief. You glance over at your tree. “On Winter Solstice? Gee, wow. I don't even get to see my family this time and you expect me to stay inside a small room so you can be by yourself in the living room? Wow. Never thought I’d see the day you’d be ordering me around, huh.”

“Do you want to live or not?” he asks, exasperated.

“Me being alive rides on me not being able to see you on Winter Solstice?” you shoot back.

“You know what? Forget it,” he shuts you down, sweeping the broken ornament onto a pan. “On Winter Solstice, you'll be in the bedroom and I'll be… Yeah. That’s that.”

You open your mouth to retort, close it, then open it again, before ultimately keeping silent as you go to pick out other ornaments. “Fine. Have it your way,” you mumble under your breath.

-----🐐🦊-----

[Winter Solstice's Eve, Day Time]

“Oh thank you, oh thank you so much, kind sir!”

You smile brightly, “No problem! Rudie, go fetch a heavy blanket for the vi- miss.”

Rudie nods silently with a blank expression before he saunters off. The female fox who happened across your den looks at him curiously as she brushes off the snow from her hair. “Rudie, huh? You've named your food “Rudie”?” she asks you.

You blink. “What!? No? He’s not my food, more like my ser- friend. And his name is actually Rudie. Well, short for Rudolph actually, but I call him Rudie.”

“Oh…” She leans in close to your face, too close for your comfort, and cups her mouth before whispering, “So you keep him around as a pet?”

You back off to distance yourself from the vixen. “He's not-”

Thump.

Rudie returned only to drop the heavy blanket to the floor. You swerve your head before heading over to him to pick the blanket off the floor. You look up, only to find an angry expression on his face. You lean in close to him and whisper through gritted teeth, “What are you doing? Don't drop a blanket meant for a guest on the floor.”

He stares harshly before he seems to snap out of it and leans in closer, whispering back through gritted teeth as well, “And what are you doing, letting her get so friendly when you've just met?”

“Friendly?” Your tail flicks. “What? I can’t even talk to people we’re saving from the storm now? Geez. Well, excuse me for enjoying some company, ‘cause someone here clearly doesn’t.”

He raises his eyebrows, cocking his head. “Oh? You enjoy her company? Well, that's great to hear,” he says, sarcasm drenching his tone. “Why don't you invite her to the bedroom while you're at it, dear?”

Now, you're ticked off. “Oh, what a bloody great idea. Between our bedroom and the living room— which you’ve already taken over— there's nowhere else she can sleep anyway! Genius!”

“Um, excuse me?” the fox cuts in hesitantly, making you both jerk your heads over. “I'm sorry to bother you, but is that blanket meant for me?”

“Yes! Yes it is.” You give Rudie the cold shoulder and wrap the blanket around the fox, patting her shoulders. “There you go! Do you want another one?”

“No, not at all~” she purrs, looking at you bashfully. “But thank you for offering, kind sir.”

You wave it off. “Don't mention it. But would you like a cuppa?”

She giggles behind a hand, her tail sashaying from side-to-side. “I wouldn't mind a spot of tea.”

You can hear Rudie scoff in the background, but you choose to ignore it in favor of setting the kettle on.

-----

[Night Time]

“Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at any point. I understand this situation might be… precarious, seeing as you're a lady. I would’ve opted to sleep in the living room, but someone-” You mentally remind yourself to stop gritting your teeth so much. “-has already taken over. That being said, just say the word and I’ll be out the door in a blink of an eye.”

The fox settles into your nest, on all fours with her behind faced towards you as she stretches out her back. “Oh~ I don't think I'll be feeling uncomfortable at all with you around,” she says, batting her eyes after she flattens out.

You give her a thumbs up. “Great to hear!” You then tucked yourself underneath your blanket on the other side of the room. “Goodnight, sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite!”

Satisfied with your hospitality, you close your eyes.

“Uh… Kind sir?”

You sit up. “Yes?”

She's also sitting up, looking at you with confused ears. “What are you doing over there?”

You look at your spot. “What do you mean?”

She points down. “This is your nest, right?

You take a moment before you nod slowly. “Yes…” You ruminate over potential reasons she would ask before something pops up. “Oh! I apologize but Rudie and I don't have a spare nest, seeing as we don't usually have guests so… that's the only nest we have unfortunately. Um…”

“Oh! No no no! I don't mind the nest at all. I was just… simply wondering why you're laying over there?” She brushes a hand over your nest. “This is such a large nest, and there's plenty of space over here, so… I don't mind if you want to lay next to me. It's your nest, after all.”

“Oh, I wouldn't want to impose.” At all.

“It wouldn't be imposing at all~ In fact, it is a bit chilly. A little more… heat wouldn't be so bad~” she insists.

You stare and then it finally registers. You get up on your feet and head over to her. “My apologies. I don't have any more blankets-”

Because that damn deer took all of them.

You offer your remaining blanket. “-but you can have this one, if you don't mind my scent.”

She tentatively reaches out and brings the bottom of your blanket to bottom half of her face, audibly sniffing it and purrs, “Your scent is delightfully yummy~”

Your tail flicks with appreciation. “Why, thank you!”

“Yes… but it’s strange.”

“Come again?” 

“This is your nest and yet it doesn't smell like you at all.”

Wow, she’s asking a lot of questions. Ugh, I wanna sleep. “Oh, that's because Rudie and I replaced the sheets with new ones.”

“Oh…” She looks away, biting her lip, and then looks back at you. “You… You said he's not food…”

“He- You mean, Rudie? Yeah, he's not my food. He's my friend.”

She tilts her head. “What is he to you? Truly?”

“My best friend?” you offer, confused when you've already answered the first time.

Her eyes narrow. “You…” Then they relax as a grin settles on her lips. “Hmm~ Could you do me a favor?”

What now? “Uh, sure? What do you need?”

“Can you… you get a little closer?” she asks, holding out her hand.

Curious, you get closer. Now within reach, she suddenly grips your hand and flips you under her, much to your shock. She licks her lips, and traces the side of your jaw. “You don't seem to be getting the hint, so let me be blunt…”

Only then, do you smell a very fragrant, flowery aroma wafting about the air.

You stutter, “Oi oi oi, are you-”

“In heat?” she moans, sitting on top of you. “Yeah~? About time, you figured it out~”

Oh heck no.

Apologising to her mentally, you immediately grab her by her sides and shove her off. You scramble off your nest and exit the bedroom, shutting the door before her claws can catch your tail.

“Come baaaaack! Come baaaaack!” she sobs behind the door, scratching the wood. “I need it! I NEED IT! I NEED YOUR KN-”

“NO, YOU DON'T!” you screech back, blushing madly. You do your best to hold the door as she tries to pull it back open.

Despite how tantalizing her aroma is, even if you had stayed for some reason, it does nothing for you. It would be a shame— not to mention, embarrassing— for both parties if she… well, tried. 

The longer you hold the door, the more energy becomes directed towards your hands and away from the lower extremities, forcing you to end up sitting on the floor while keeping your hands tightly gripping around the doorknob. All the while, the vixen continues to sob and moan for you.

And then you feel it.

A sharp ping! in your instincts. All of your hair raises up as goosebumps form along your skin and something icey races through your veins. You slowly turn your head to the side and look into the darkness of the living room, finding two white dots next to each in the middle of it.

“R-rudie?” you call out nervously. “Rudie… I’m sorry but, uh… we have a situation? I can’t be in there with our guest!” 

Rudie says nothing.

Maybe he’s asleep. I'm… I'm just seeing things, right? you tell yourself, until you see the white dots move as your eyesight adjusts.

You start to see a form. There are horns sticking upwards, like a bull but more curly, through a red cloak, edged with a white furry lining. It heads over to you slowly, crawling on all fours.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

You can't see their hind legs underneath the oversized cloak but it looks hunched over, with long, spindly fingers and untrimmed nails in the front. Fear grips you by the throat, stealing all strength from your body and especially your ears, now unable to pick up the sounds of the vixen's wails against the blood pumping through your ears.  The creature stops near you, not enough for you to be able to see its face underneath the hood, but enough to make you want to get back into the bedroom. 

Your breath shudders as you try to take deep breaths, feeling lightheaded.

“PLEAAAAASE!” wails the vixen, cutting in through the silence sharply.

It suddenly tilts its head, so quickly it almost looks like it snapped itself, making you jolt. “Nauuuughttyyy, naaaughttttyyy,” it drawls, sounding like a thousand voices trapped in one being.

You shake your head stiffly, as if trying to convince yourself that what you’re looking at isn’t real.

The creature seems to shift its head towards the door, based on the direction of the horns. For a moment, all is silent except for the vixen still pounding at the door. “Naaaaaaughhtttyyyy,” it rumbles.

It reaches out with its bony hand towards the door much to your horror, and then through the door much to your confusion. You hear the vixen gasp.

CRACK!

The creature’s hand slowly retreats back to the floor to hold up its body. You don't feel any resistance on the door, causing you to look between the creature and the door with utmost dismay. “W-what did you do?”

The creature stays silent.

“What. Did. You. Do?” You repeat, voice becoming shrill with each word. Your hands are unable to let go of the doorknob, almost as if afraid the door will fall open and you'll find… you don't want to know.

The creature continues to stay silent, as if watching you and debating its next move.

“R-rudie?” you begin to call out into the darkness behind the creature. “Rudie? Are you there? Wake up. Please wake up now!”

Rudie doesn't answer back.

Where is he? Don't tell me this… this creature… No! No, it couldn't- I didn't hear- Rudie can't be-

You hear a rumbling sound from the creature, shutting you up. It reaches out to you with both of its bony spindly hands, making you finally let go of the doorknob and crawl backwards in fright. 

“Rudie!” you begin to wail, tears pooling in your eyes. “WAKE UP! RUDIE! Rudie! RUDIE! WAKE UP! I LOVE YOU! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!”

Unfortunately, you're not fast enough before it crawls towards you and wraps its arms around you, pulling you forward into the crushing embrace of the dark opening of its cloak.

All went dark.

.

The end.

.

My dear, my dear, won’t you help this poor soul out?

But mark my words, there's no need to shout,

It's time for joy, and that's why I am here.

For it’s the naughty ones that have much to fear…

.

.

.

.

.

Your eyes groggily open, waking up to the smell of musk and leaves and the feeling of the weight of a heavy boulder draped over your body. You shift your head and find a familiar set of malformed antlers sleeping on your chest.

Your eyes immediately widen. “Rudie!?” you screech.

Your shrill voice wakes him up. He smacks his mouth as he lifts his head and looks at you sleepily. “Hnh?”

The events of… last night?- Yesterday?- Earlier?- flows into your head and you immediately grab him by his malformed antlers, eliciting a blush-inducing sound from him. You ignore it in favor of exclaiming, “What are you doing here? I thought you'd be- I thought you were-”

He makes a strangely familiar rumbling sound as he gazes at you, before he gently pecks you on the lips and settles back down on your chest.

Wide-eyed, your mouth hangs open as your cheeks heat up to a thousand degrees. “Wha? Wha-”

“Nngh… Love you too. Now, go back to sleep… It’s Winter Solstice…” he says, shifting his body a bit so that he can nuzzle your neck. “Let’s just sleep some more, okay dear? We can talk about it later.”

“Don’t…” Oh, why bother? “But what about our guest? How did-”

 “Ugh, like I said. Don’t worry about it. Sleep.”

“But-”

“Fine… You wanna talk now?” Rudie gets up on his hands and knees over you as you lay on the couch, gazing at you silently as he licks his lips. “Then let’s talk, dear.”

You gulp, feeling the air become thicker and warmer as the heavy aroma of musk and leaves wafts about.

@mel-vaz

[whumpity-whumpwhump]

AI-less whumptober 2024: Trauma Thursday, relapse

Shirley exited the small convenience store and went to the bus stop, foot tapping rhythmically on the concrete, her fingers running up and down the surface of the small bag in her pocket.

Her mind buzzed in a weird anticipation, but she was fully aware of the true reason she was doing this and she couldn't help feeling as if her skin was crawling.

The bus came to a stop and she brushed past the people exiting it, seeking a seat further to the back. She slid into one, pointedly glaring at anyone who looked like they were going to sit next to her.

Marcus wouldn't want this, she knew that. He'd want her to stay clean, even go to a fucking rehab center if she had too. But fuck that, Marcus wasn't here. He wasn't around to do stupid dares with. He wasn't sitting in Slough House waiting for her to come back so they could gamble with paperclips.

He was fucking dead. And he didn't have to be. All he needed to do was stay back with her, stay in Lamb's office and he'd still be alive today.

No, no she shouldn't be angry with him. It wasn't his fault the idiot had gotten himself killed. It was Cartwright's psychotic brother who had done that.

She got off the bus, carefully willing her mind to go blank as she started for her apartment.

---

She let the door bang closed behind her, heading straight for the bathroom, not even shedding her jacket.

She took the small bag out of her pocket, dropped it onto the countertop and stared.

Images flashed through her mind, Marcus, dead in the one place they were supposed to be safe. Cassie and the kids, crying at the funeral. Patrice, dead on the floor after Coe had convinced her not to kill him. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that. Wished he had tried escaping, that she could've killed him herself, was grateful to Coe for putting five bullets through the bastard.

Once again the image of Marcus, dead at the top of the stairs came to her mind.

"Nope, fuck this."

Shirley poured the cocaine onto the countertop, lining it up into two neat lines. She couldn't help the surge of excitement at the action, taking out her bill and rolling, gentle as she performed this sacred ritual. yeah, it was horrible for her and a really shitty idea but that didn't stop the familiar anchoring it gave her. She snorted both lines and stood back, looking at herself in the mirror for a moment.

Damn, when did she get so skinny?

She pulled out her phone, shooting a quick text to Lamb that she wasn't coming in tomorrow. He'd be annoyed if he didn't at least get a heads up. Well, he'd be annoyed anyway but less so this way.

She walked to the kitchen, pouring out a bowl of corn flakes and adding a scoop of sugar. Next she added the milk and yeah- now she was starting to feel it, that familiar surge of adrenaline. She rode it out, closing her eyes and sitting back as a rush of euphoria engulfed her.

After a few seconds she opened her eyes and turned to eat her cereal.

About ten-ish minutes later a knock sounded at the door. She walked over, peeking through the hole to see River. She stood back, she sure as hell didn't want to talk to anyone from work right now. She waited for him to leave. He knocked again, calling out,

"Shirley come on I know you're in there, Roddy saw you enter the building like twenty minutes ago."

"And what makes you think I'd be here and not off hanging with a mate from the same apartment building or shagging somebody?" She demanded, opening the door with a scowl.

"You seemed like you were having a bit of a rough day is all and I figured no one at Slough House is really sharing about that kind of thing but you might wanna talk to someone." He seemed hesitant, like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing.

Marcus used to be the one she talked to. Not anything to serious mind you, they mostly just ribbed each other. Kinda like her and her siblings before they'd grown apart.

"What, Standish send you to check on me?"

"No," River shook his head, "I just figured, I mean it's only been a few days and...." he trailed off awkwardly then looked down at the case of beer in his hand.

"I brought beer if you just wanna drink and brood together in silence."

As if a case of beer or a conversation about their feelings would make Patrice any less his brother, as if it wasn't his stupid family drama that got Marcus killed in the first place.

She took the beer but held up a hand to stop River from coming in. She just wanted to be alone for christ's sake.

"Fuck off, Cartwright."

"What, you just take my beer and tell me to piss off? Isn't there anything I can do to help?"

She dropped the beer on the ground, turning to Cartwright.

"Alright yeah, you can go back in time and kill your fucking assassin family before they take out one of our own."

His face flickered but he stayed silent.

"Pardon me if I don't wanna be around the brother of the psychotic prick who murdered my partner!"

"...Right, sorry," Cartwright gave her a pained smile and turned, walking back down the hall.

Shirley shut the door and turned to her empty apartment, anger dying down to be replaced with nothing but the faintest spark of regret.