#so i do try to really echo his voice on the show very consciously both in his internal dialogue and his actual dialogue

[pynkhues]

I'm curious have you ever tried writing from Lestat's POV? and if you have what voice do you find easier/more engaging for yourself to write? (kind of a moot question, since both your fics are from Louis' POV but still 😅)

Mm, I have tried to write from Lestat's POV before, yes, but it hasn't really stuck for me yet. I think there are two reasons for that - the first is that my knee jerk reaction is that his internal dialogue would probably be in French, and while I don't think that means it can't be written in English for the sake of fic, I do think it affects the rhythm with writing from his POV, if that makes sense?

The second reason is that we actually haven't gotten a really clear sense of his authentic voice yet on the show. He's so filtered currently through Louis, Armand and Claudia's perspective, and so writing him from Louis' perspective still just feels easier? I'm not saying that I'm not going to write Lestat-POV until this point - arguably I kind of did in Ungodly Hour with his long sequence of dialogue in recounting Paris and his turning, but I really had to rely very heavily on the book to find my way into that - but I do think I'll probably find his perspective easier to write once s3 is airing and I have more of a sense of how the show's going to have him speaking from his own perspective.

Funnily enough, I actually find Lestat's dialogue easier to write than Louis' though - I just tend to think of the most flowery and / or out of pocket way to say something and then Google Translate it to French lmao. I find I need to be in a certain headspace to write Louis' dialogue, and I have a few go-to scenes I watch to get myself back into the rhythm / pacing of his voice. I find him really dynamic to write as he code-switches so much and I try to mix up his Dubai vs Paris vs New Orleans way of speaking depending on the context of a scene. I hope it works, haha.

[dyaz-stories]

your imprint's on my soul || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

summary: When Hyun-Su's monster shows up at your door, he teases you and implies that Hyun-Su wants more with you than what you've shared before so, when Hyun-Su wakes up, you decide to act on that.

word count: 4.1k

warnings & tags: canon-typical angst, fluff, smut, explicit consent, dry-humping, thigh-riding if you squint, handjob (male receiving), they're both virgins and are both painfully awkward, this is very soft tbh

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: sooo, we've reached the first smutty installment for this series, though this feels so tame and so soft I don't even know if it deserves that name. It's what felt right to me for the development of their relationship and what I think makes sense for their characters! I hope you'll enjoy it!

Hyun-Su always knocks. It doesn’t matter that you’ve told him he didn’t have to anymore, doesn’t matter that you’ve offered to give him a key. He still knocks, a soft rap against your door that you’ve learned to recognize from anywhere you are in the house — it’s probably the first time ever that you are truly thankful for the terrible soundproofing in there. When Hyun-Su isn’t there, you spend your time waiting to hear it again, whether consciously or not.

So when you hear something brutally hitting your door, the sound echoing through your silent house, it doesn’t cross your mind that it could be him.

You stumble through the house to grab your bat, heart beating so fast it’s threatening to fall out of your chest. Whether it’s a monster or a desperate survivor trying to get in, you need to be ready to defend yourself.

You’re slowly approaching the door when whoever — or whatever — is outside hits the door twice more.

“C’mon now, I haven’t got all day.”

You still. You recognize the voice instantly, of course you do, but what you don’t recognize is the tone, or even how loud it is, for that matter.

“Hyun-Su?” you call out quietly.

It’s not the smartest decision, because if it’s not him, it lets whatever’s out there know you’re here, but you can’t see yourself leaving him outside.

“You could say that,” the voice answers, and it’s still obviously Hyun-Su, and it’s still wrong, somehow.

But, after a couple seconds of further hesitation, you decide to open the door anyway. You’ve heard it before, that tone, you think, even if it’s blurry now. Plus, you cannot bear the thought of letting Hyun-Su out there, if it really is him. You tighten your hold on your bat, and carefully open the door.

The second you do, Hyun-Su walks in like he owns the place. It is so unlike him that you get ready to swing, but he spots you and grabs it from your hand easily, using his pull on it to get you closer to him, his other hand coming to your waist to stabilize you with a gentleness that contrasts with the abruptness of his movement. Once he does, he shoots you a grin that makes you knees weak, and, as his blue eyes stare straight into yours, you finally understand what is going on.

“All that for me?” he asks, glancing at the bat.

You don’t bother to answer him. You remember too well the state he was in last time you saw this— well— version of him, and your eyes run over his body, followed by your hands, checking for injuries. But while his sweater is in worst shape than usual, and you find blood that you think is fresh on there, his skin is intact under your fingers.

When you look into his eyes again, you find him staring at you, amused.

“You can keep going,” he teases. Your face starts burning and you take a step back, embarrassed, but he follows right after you, eyes devouring you. “Come on, you know you want to. Why not just give in?”

Your back hits the wall, and he leans closer, like a cat playing with a mouse. The difference is, though your heart is hammering in your chest, you don’t feel that scared. Nervous, sure, but there is no actual threat to his tone, or even to his attitude.

“I’m not— I’m not doing anything Hyun-Su wouldn’t want,” you answer, and you somehow find it in yourself to lift your chin defiantly as you do.

Meeting this version of Hyun-Su’s eyes sends a rush of heat through you once again. Beneath the amusement, there is so much more. Fascination. Adoration, even.

He lets out a brief laugh at your words.

“Please,” he practically purrs, “you can’t think that he doesn’t want this.” You stare at him, and his grin widens. “Maybe you should ask him, then.” He leans closer to you, mouth so close to your ear you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. “Ask him what he thinks about when he’s alone at night.” Your cheeks are on fire. “Ask him what he thinks about when you’re lying in bed next to him.” Your breath catches in your throat. “Ask him what he thinks of doing to you.”

He laughs again, and Lord, you don’t know how your legs haven’t given up underneath you yet.

“Come back to me if he still doesn’t have the guts to do anything,” he whispers in your ear. “For now, I think we’ll take a nap.”

That’s all the warning you get before he collapses into you and you can do nothing but slide down to the floor, holding Hyun-Su’s now unconscious body in your arms. You curse the monstrous part of him under your breath, but you know, deep down, that it’s less about that and more about the fact that he’s leaving you with your whole body practically vibrating with feelings and desires you’ve been having more and more as of late.

Your relationship with Hyun-Su is good. It’s great. It makes you happy, so much happier than you thought would ever be possible after the world ended.

But you’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been a— yearning, a longing for more. Something you haven’t put precise words on, something that is almost fully new to you, because though you had fooled around with the boyfriend you briefly had at the beginning of college, the two of you had never gotten really far. You suspect it’s even more foreign to Hyun-Su.

You do know you have an effect on him, you’re not blind. You know how he can get when he loses himself in you, when he finally lets go of all the weight he carries on his shoulders. You, however, also know how embarrassed he gets when his body reacts to you in ways he can’t fully control. You’re just not sure he’s ready for taking the relationship further and, if you’re being honest, the fear of rejection has kept you from bringing up the subject.

Except that after this conversation, the monster’s words are swirling in your mind, and you can no longer pretend that the desire that makes your pulse quicken isn’t there.

Now’s not the time for that, though. You do your best to carry Hyun-Su to the couch, something you doubt you could have done before the Apocalypse forced you to put on some muscle, cover him with a blanket, just in case, because his sweater is starting to have more holes than fabric, and sit by his side so his head rests on your lap. All that’s left to do now, is to wait for him to wake up.

It’s fine, though.

You’re used to waiting for him.

Hyun-Su opens his eyes, and at first, he just feels warm and good and safe. For once in his life, nothing hurts. Your hand’s in his hair, fingers brushing against his scalp pleasantly every now and then and—

And he doesn’t remember coming to your place or seeing you.

He jumps up, eyes surveying the apartment, which looks the same it always does, then you when he turns around. All he sees there is mild confusion.

“Did you have a bad dream?” you ask.

“Did you see him?” he asks in reply.

You frown for a second, before understanding passes on your face, and Hyun-Su feels the blood draining from his face.

Last time, the monster had been with you for a couple minutes, at most. This time…

He hadn’t thought he would come here. He’d been far away, when the group of humans had gotten attacked. Intervening had been the right thing to do, he’d thought — until he’d started getting shot at. The words they’d hurled at him, he’d all heard before, during a time of his life he wished he could forget. With his attention split between the monsters still trying to get past him on one side, and the arrows and bullets coming from the other side, the monster had managed to take over.

And maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t fought it as hard as he should have.

He had never thought you’d get caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Are you— Are you—”

Hurt. Angry. Disgusted.

“I’m fine,” you answer him. You don’t hesitate to reach out to gently touch his face, and your smile is so sincere it’s almost blinding. “Nothing happened.”

He leans into your touch, unable to stop himself, and though he still feels the need to protest, it gets easier to believe you each time you reassure him you don’t despise him.

“It didn’t do anything to you?” he asks, voice low and quiet.

You shake your head, but he can’t miss the way you glance away briefly, avoiding his eyes at first.

“He didn’t hurt me,” you tell him, and he can tell it’s true, but—

“What did it do?” There’s urgency in his voice, panic even. He grabs your arms to look into your eyes, the window to the soul, they say, but he cannot read into you, no matter how much he searches.

“Nothing,” you say, but again, he can tell that there’s more to it, and he doesn’t let go, until you cave in. “He just said something.”

“What did he say?” Hyun-Su presses on. Fear is invading his every bone, wrapping its vines around his heart and squeezing it.

“Nothing important,” you insist, but it only makes him more desperate, because if you don’t want to tell him, it must be something bad, must be something deep and dark and twisted, must be something that could make you hate him. When he doesn’t let up, you sigh. “He just said to ask you something.”

Hyun-Su’s mind goes quiet.

“Ask me what?”

His mouth is dry, his lips move painfully.

“Just— He said, I should ask you what you want to— to do to me.”

It’s like a bomb just went off.

Hyun-Su lets go of you. It feels as if his whole face is burning. Shame and embarrassment overtake him, and suddenly he can’t look at you anymore, just wants to run out the door, but his body is refusing to move. He’s stuck in place like a rabbit in headlights.

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically, whipping his head in the other direction, since that all he can do.

“So, you, um, you… are thinking about it?” you ask, your voice piercing straight through his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“No, no, I’m, uh—”

You grab his hand, scooting closer to him on the couch, until your knees touch his. And it grounds him. Slowly, reason starts to creep back up from under all the thoughts, and he hears the eagerness in your question.

“J-just so we’re on the same page,” you say, as he slowly turns his head to look at you once more, “you’re thinking about… having sex. With me.”

It’s precious, how you lower your voice to say ‘sex’, and then frown in annoyance at yourself. Hyun-Su still wants to tear his hand from yours, run away before you can tell him how much of a freak, of a monster you think he is. But he can’t.

He thinks he’d rather you rip his heart out, as long as you do it with your bare hands, than to live without your touch ever again.

Slowly, he nods. His face and ears are tingling, and he’s sure he’s bright red by now.

“I shouldn’t,” he mumbles. You’ve given him so much already. So much he hadn’t dared to hope for in years. He shouldn’t ask for even more. He doesn’t deserve more.

But your hands tighten around his. Your mouth opens, closes, your tongue comes out to wet your lips as you hesitate and fidget nervously.

“No, you, uh, you should,” you stutter before catching yourself, closing your eyes like you don’t want to see what’s in front of you before you take a leap of faith. “I mean— I think about it. About you.”

A light buzz starts again in his ears.

“I didn’t know,” you keep mumbling. “I mean, I wasn’t sure that you—” Your gaze goes from his hand to the floor, everywhere so you don’t have to look at him. “That you wanted me. So I’m— It’s, uh, it’s good to know.”

“I want you,” Hyun-Su blurts out without thinking, and of course then you look at him, with wide, pretty eyes, and if he wasn’t blushing before, he sure is now. His face could burst into flames any second. “I hate that I can’t—” His eyes fall on your legs, with the dress you’re wearing riding up on your thighs. “—touch you.” If he wasn’t so scared, if he was braver… “I just…” A whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t,” you say patiently. “I trust you.”

“But I don’t,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor. “You’re so— fragile. If I lost control for a second…”

He sees you hesitate. He expects you to tell him, again, that he wouldn’t lose control, maybe that the monster inside him wouldn’t hurt you. Thing is, you might be right, but it doesn’t matter how unlikely it is. That’s not a risk he can take.

“Okay,” you say instead. “Okay. But what if— what if I was the one touching you?”

He almost wishes you hadn’t said it, with how badly he immediately wants it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. His throat is dry. His whole body is aching for you.

“And if I want to?” You tilt your head, all pretty, and oh, how can he deny you anything?

“Please,” he whispers.

Your lips part and your breath seems to stutter, before you lean in and kiss him, and it’s like he’s finally come home. It starts off soft, slow, no different from any kiss the two of you have shared in the past weeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, thumb stroking his cheek.

Hyun-Su melts. He parts his lips to welcome in your tongue, lets you take the lead and set the pace for the kiss without thinking about it twice.

Then he feels you move. It’s barely there at first, your hand that’s not on his face coming to rest on his shoulder, and all that is known territory. Even if your fingers actually touch his skin there, because of the numerous holes in his clothing, he can handle that.

His eyes snap open again, though, when you move your leg over his so you can come sit in his lap, straddling him. You notice immediately.

“Is that okay? We can stop—”

“No, I—”

He doesn’t want you to stop. He wants more with you, so bad, and though he would never say it out loud, he’s desperate for you to show him that you’re not disgusted in him. Every time you kiss him, every time you touch him, every time you take his hand and lead him in bed with you, he comes closer to truly believing it.

But, ah, with this last conversation, even if it’s not the first time he’s had you in his lap, he feels— heated. He can feel himself growing hard, and he’s still embarrassed at the thought that you can feel him. Despite what he said, his hands are on your waist, holding tight. He doesn’t remember if he chose to do that.

After all, his desire for you aligns with what the monster wants so closely that he’s— scared. He’s so scared of losing control. But you’re looking at him so lovingly, and he wants you so bad… Can he be selfish? Just this once?

“Don’t stop,” he almost begs, and seeing how eagerly you nod in reply is like an explosion of warmth in his chest.

Your lips crash against his again, harder, with more purpose. Your fingers card through his hair, and the feeling of your light pull on them goes straight to his core, more enjoyable than he thinks it should be, though he’s in no position to linger on it, not when the next thing you do is to experimentally roll your hips on top of him.

From your perspective, it’s a clumsy movement, one you’re unsure of. From his, it’s a rush of pure pleasure when you rub against his hard cock, one that makes him openly moan, his mouth falling open enough that he breaks the kiss. The second he realizes what kind of noise came out of him, he raises his hand to cover his mouth, cheeks turning crimson.

He’s not daring to look at you, not at first anyway, until he feels your lips brushing against his fingers, pressing soft kisses against his hand.

“Still good?” you ask.

And he is, but he’s not trusting his voice all that much for now, so he just nods. A smile dances on your lips as you kiss down his jaw.

“Also,” you add, “I’m not— I don’t have much— experience, in all, uh, that. So you should— you should let me know. What feels good. What doesn’t.”

“That felt good,” he admits quietly, and your smile turns into a grin against his skin.

“I could tell.”

What you don’t say is how hot you found both the sound and the thought that you could affect him like that, how badly you want to press your legs together so you can alleviate the ache you’re feeling down there, how you’re worried you actually want him even more than he wants you.

Instead of saying all that — it would make you feel so naked and so vulnerable, and disarm you completely, which doesn’t seem like a good idea for now —, you start trailing your kisses down his neck. There’s one spot there that makes him whimper, more discreetly than before, but you latch onto it all the same, tongue coming out to flick against the skin, pulling on it softly between your teeth. He writhes and whines under you, and when his cock rubs against you just right, you gasp against him.

You’re delighted to see reddish skin when you pull away. He’ll heal, and there will be no trace of it by morning, but there’s something satisfying about it — and the glassy look he gives you, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess on the back of the couch, with that proud mark right above his collarbone… is purely sinful.

Your fingers hook in his hoodie.

“Can I?” you ask.

He’d go to the moon and back for you.

He nods.

You pull it over his head, struggle a little when it gets caught in his hair, then manage to pull him free and kiss him again with a giggle. It’s sweet. You’re still wearing your dress, but it’s the first time he feels your hands directly on his skin all the same, and even if his body’s burning up, your touch sets him ablaze.

You explore his body with hungry eyes and hands, follow the shape of his pectorals, then move down to his abs. You trace the muscles, slowly, and as you move down, closer to his crotch, he can no longer suppress a shiver. You still for a second, and he watches you with wide eyes, waiting for you to keep moving, so badly wanting you to keep going. Finally, your fingers brush against the button of his jeans. Silently, meeting his eyes, you ask for his permission. He swallows, nods again.

He’s nervous, almost painfully so, but he notices that your fingers are shaking as you have to try three times to get it open, and it reassures him, in some ways. It reminds him that, for all the issues he has, this is new for the both of you. There are no expectations to meet, just the two of you discovering, together, what works for you.

Once the button isn’t in the way, you, very carefully, move your hand under his jeans, but over his boxers. The second he feels your hand hesitantly closing over his cock, even through the fabric, he throws his head back, trying his best not to moan again and only half-succeeding.

You watch his reactions closely as you keep touching him, slipping your hand under the boxers after a few seconds. This time he does moan, a high-pitched noise that you take to mean you’re doing something right — even if you have no idea what you’re doing. How tight should your grip be? How fast should you move? Should you be saying something? Should he be saying something?

His cock is rock hard between your fingers, harder than you’d have expected; larger, too. It seems to have been that way for a while, maybe since you’ve started kissing, based on how wet with precum it is. You tighten your grip around it a little, then slide your hand down, slowly, down to the base. He moans again, and you feel him twitch between your fingers.

“Um,” you mumble, “I, uh, I don’t really know— is that— is there anything I should—”

Hyun-Su’s looks up at you, flushed and panting. One of his hands comes to your thigh, and now you’re the one shivering under his touch. You don’t think he even notices though. You’re dripping wet yourself, but for now you just want to make him feel good. If things go well, if he stays open to this sort of things, there’ll be plenty of time to deal with that… later. At the moment, all you want is to show him that pleasure doesn’t have to lead to anything negative.

“J-just, keep going,” he mumbles. “You can, ah, you can go a little faster, if you…”

The rest of his words gets lost in the next moan as you follow his advice, moving your hand up and down his cock, the wetness helping the movement. Despite yourself, you rock your hips against his leg, the pressure of it between your legs feeling so delicious, you can’t deny it to yourself at the moment.

Under you, Hyun-Su is lost in pleasure. Your rhythm is hesitant, you’re not holding him quite as tight as he’d like, but oh, your hand is soft and gentle, and it still feels so much better than his own. The fact that you’re all pressed against him, your breath against his neck, your scent filling him, it’s all much more than what he had imagined — because, yes, in shameful moments, he’d pictured this kind of scenes, but they had never felt as good, pleasure running through his veins and flooding his body.

Any time he indulged in them, though, he came faster than usual, and now, with the real thing, he realizes too late how quickly he is approaching his climax.

“Wait,” he hears himself mumble, “I’ll—”

But he’s already coming, and the strength of the orgasm leaves him breathless as he humps against your hand, trying to make it last longer.

“Oh,” is all you comment, and even through the haze, embarrassment spreads through him as he realizes that there’s cum on your hand and on his stomach. At least he cannot turn any redder now.

“Sorry,”  he mumbles, “sorry, I—”

“No, I— I thought that was pretty hot, actually,” you say, giving him a smile, and thank fuck you’ve taken his hand off him, because he wouldn’t want to have to explain why that’s making him twitch again. “I’ll just— you probably want to get cleaned up.”

“I’m— Yeah, but—” He glances down at your body. He felt you rocking against him earlier, even if he wasn’t exactly in the right mind to say something about it. “Don’t you— Don’t you want to, uh…”

“Ah, I’m fine, I just— I just wanted to make you feel good for now.”

And just as he thought his heart rate might go back to normal at some point, there it is, spiking again.

“We can do that— some other time. If you’d like to.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t give to you.

“I would. I would like that.”

Your smile is a promise for more, your kiss is sweet, and for the first time in forever, Hyun-Su forgets about the monster.

He’s in your arms, and it’s all that matters.

i’ve been trying to figure out what to put here. i already feel like i’m kinda begging for comment on my posts, which i don’t like doing, but i figured i’d try to explain at least once what i’ve been feeling lately — plus i'm starting a new job on Monday and i don't know how much time i'll have to write after that. truth is, the lack of interactions i’ve been getting on here, on these stories, has been kind of depressing to me. i know people are reading them, considering the amount of notes, and it’s hard not to question whether it’s my writing that’s not good enough to make people want to leave a comment, or if it's just how fandom is now and in that case it just might not be for me anymore. i mean, i write for myself first, but i post because i want to share with others, i want to see their reactions, know how my writing makes them feel… and lately it just feels like i’m screaming in the void and nothing else. it’s been hard to stay motivated honestly. so, yeah. you don’t have to leave a comment, especially if you didn’t like it, i get it, i’m not trying to guilt-trip you. i just. feel the need to explain this at least once, in case it changes someone’s mind, and if it doesn't, i'll know i tried. if you've ever commented, reblogged with tags, sent an ask, know that i'm so thankful for you and you truly keep me going.

next one-shot

[wintersandthebeast]

11. Anchor

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Link to Master List

Ethan walked ahead of Karl back to the outcropping where he’d seen the scar of the liminal space. He paused, realizing he didn’t quite know how to…what had she said? 

His ‘friend’?

Anchor.  He had to anchor Karl. 

How the fuck do you anchor Karl? 

Heisenberg stood expectantly behind Ethan, jamming the head of his hammer back into the ground, leaning on it, and stroking his freshly-trimmed beard.  Ethan turned to look at him, scowling as he pondered how to do this.  

“You uh, want me to push you off the edge?” Heisenberg guessed, and when Ethan’s frown deepened, the older man actually chuckled.  

“Very funny,” Ethan sneered, and spoke louder as Heisenberg was still trying to mask his snickering at his own joke. 

“Have you ever….can you go….can you see…”  He didn’t want to say the mold’s consciousness , because he himself was mold.  It made him feel less real, less alive.  He didn’t want to be a part of that world…he wanted to be a part of this one.  The realization caused his voice to falter.  He gestured at the hole.  

“Uh,” Karl guessed where Ethan was going.  “If I’m standing on the ground where there’s Mold under me, I can see it sometimes.  Have to raise a magnetic field.”  He tapped his head.  “The uh…”

“Cadou,” Ethan guessed, and Heisenberg nodded, surprised.  

Ethan turned to look over the new canyon.  He sighed.  Might as well tell Karl everything he knew.  Which wasn’t a lot.  “A girl…a really weird one--Not Eveline--I can see her sometimes.  I guess I can go…back and forth.  She said that I could maybe anchor you.” 

“Hmmm,” Karl supplied, still stroking his beard.  Ethan’s scowl was turning into more of a pondering gaze.  

“So if you’re holding on to me, and…I’m just going to assume the mycelium is under us,” Ethan sighed, slightly grossed out at the prospect.  Karl nodded at this, and jerked his thumb back toward the manor.  

“Only direction I’ve mapped is that way.  End of the underground network is on the property line, just before the west garden.” 

That was fascinating.  Ethan wanted to ask more, but he was also eager to do whatever he was going to do.  Eager, he realized, to try to use his powers.  Gross.  

“Okay,” Ethan said, shrugging.  “So how do I, anchor you?”

Karl’s head tipped.  He was the scientist, after all.  Before continuing, he looked around at the crowd.  Most of the people were farther away by now, creating large groups around the bonfire who were talking amongst themselves.  This seemed to satisfy Heisenberg, and he turned back to the blond.  

“You hold my arm,” he instructed, “I’ll use the hammer and raise the field.  When I do that, you just do whatever you do when you--” he gestured, “...travel? Normally.” 

Ethan stepped forward and grasped the other man’s upper arm, sparing only a moment to look self-consciously around when Heisenberg’s hammer rang, a resonating tone that he’d only heard once before.  Now Karl held the hammer out and the gears began to spin.  Ethan was mesmerized in spite of himself, and it took him another moment to remember it was his turn to show off.  He closed his eyes, thought of the scar, and opened them.  

They were back.  The magnetic field spun around both of them for another moment, Ethan sensing rather than seeing anything, until Karl waved a hand and it dropped.  The resonance chime disappeared, and it was replaced with Karl’s impressed exhale.  The corpses, buildings, the red-blood tinted stranded-in-time spiral spread out in front of the men. 

“Shit,” he said finally, simply.  Ethan nodded in agreement.  

Karl looked around, incredulous, and then peered back at the wound. Ethan could sense many more things now.  Was it because he was getting better at this movement between worlds?  He heard echoes of screams, explosions, sobbing.  It was like one big haunted soup down there, except the soup was frozen in place.  The only things moving were the big, twisted trees of the ‘roots’.  

“They’re stuck,” Ethan realized, wondering if he was finally losing his mind, that he could sense what the mold was doing.  “Everything is…stuck, but it’s trying to move.  It’s like…”  What was it like?  He wasn’t a doctor.  He knew science in terms of computers, and that was about it.  “Scrambled.”  It felt just like seeing a programming error, a big one.  How was that possible?  

Karl was creating an electric field, he realized in awe.  He could see the engineer’s outstretched hand, positioned as though Karl were just feeling the temperature of the earth, but in this space, Ethan could sense? See?  He wasn’t quite sure, it was too fuzzy.  But a stream of energy left the man’s body and projected toward the ravine.  Like a meter.  Ethan gripped Heisenberg’s arm and glanced at his face, but Karl was focused on the frozen tornado of debris in front of them.  

The electric field dropped.  Ethan could feel that too.  He could also feel a headache creeping forward.  

Karl inhaled.  “Hysteresis.” 

“What?”

Karl finally looked at him, and Ethan wondered if the other man had forgotten he was here.  He had that focused, intent look on his face.  It was likely he was doing something else entirely in his mind.  Calculations of some kind.  Ethan, for the first time, felt understanding, almost camaraderie with the other’s thoughts.

Karl didn’t seem to share this moment as he stared, a little lost, at Ethan.  He finally removed his glasses, and the look of ‘how do I explain this’ was evident on his face.  

“It’s….it has to do with the magnetic field,” Karl explained.  “I don’t get why.”  He actually looked a little concerned, Ethan thought.    Karl eyed the hundred-foot-high frozen statue of decay.  “Hysteresis is…” 

“I actually know about it,” Ethan interrupted, fighting dizziness.  He was busy, remembering a specific class on data recovery.  He didn’t understand the phenomenon on a physics level, but magnetic fields-and magnets- were an important part of hard disk drives.  Ethan’s specialty was more software than hardware, but he was nothing if not a thorough learner.  

Heisenberg looked absolutely delighted about this, but then Ethan noticed that the other man had a darkened trail of black trickling from his nose.  He’d seen that before.  Once on Heisenberg, and once on himself.  He pointed to his own nose, eyes wide.  “I think we have to leave.” 

Karl seemed to know exactly what he was referring to, wiping the fluid.  “Yep, time to go.”

The hammer raised again, the field expanding and Ethan exhaled, closing his eyes.  

When he opened them, there was sunlight, but then a crackle sounded when he removed his fingers from Karl’s arm.  Ethan cried out, feeling the worst shock he’d ever received.  Heisenberg dropped the hammer, looking immediately apologetic, and several people near the fire approached.  In the lead was Maricara, holding Rosemary, who in turn held up a big, drooled-on piece of shortbread and looked less than curious about what her father was up to. 

Ethan clutched his chest, fighting the urge to say fuck in front of a bunch of elderly ladies.  He groaned instead, feeling nausea.  

Most of the approaching Roma looked worried, but Maricara had an air of understanding about her features.  As Ethan leaned forward, cringing in pain, and Karl apologetically slapped his back, she leaned in.  Her dark eyes scanned past the pair over the ruins. Her voice was hushed, almost reverent, as though she thought the two awkward men were prophets of some kind. 

“What did you see?”

Heisenberg shook his head.  When Ethan stood again, he also had the black trickle from his nose, and he wiped it away quickly.  Ethan nodded, signaling that he was okay--was he, though?--and Karl supplied, “It’s…" hand gesture, "...wrong.”

“Is it something you can fix?”

He stared again at Ethan.  When Ethan began to exhale, “I’m fine,” Karl pushed him toward the bonfire up the hill.  “Go heat up, Winters.  That heart can’t take another shock like that, you’ve got healin’ to do.” 

He begrudgingly agreed, and stumbled toward the fire.  Ethan was thankful for the warmth, and he stood huddled in the fur, feeling the heat on his face.  He closed his eyes.  It felt good, he realized, to be out in the sun.  Even the chilly winter sun.  The cold at his back, the warm fire at his front.  It reminded him of his younger days spent camping, hiking, exploring.  Ethan had always tried to temper his sedentary, boring cubicle life with outdoor activities.  He missed the friends he’d planned events with.  If only they could hear how his life had gone, he mused with a smile.  Trying to explain the similarities between a corrupted drive and a big hole in a fungal colony brain would not be his usual catching up conversation. 

When he felt the pangs in his chest subside, he blearily opened his eyes and glanced around for Rosemary.  There she was, gnawing deeply on the shortbread, her eyes curious as she stared from person to person.  Maricara bounced the girl slightly while she spoke to Karl.  Ethan couldn’t hear the conversation, but he continued to watch them as his mind drifted. 

After several minutes, Karl broke away from the elder and sauntered toward Ethan.  He stared at the fire in silence for a moment. 

“I think I can fix it.”

The blond nodded.  But then Heisenberg sighed.  “Oppose the magnetic field, get it back to…normal?”  He frowned.  “I don’t know if--how--that could affect…”

“Miranda?” Ethan guessed, and Heisenberg nodded, his frown deepening. 

“I’m more concerned with the act of moving that big of a magnetic field,” Ethan confessed.  “That’s a huge surface area.”  The scar was at least a city block’s diameter, and over a hundred feet high.  Curiosity overtook him as he remembered their fight behind the factory.  Heisenberg himself had been a tornado of steel and rust.  But that had been at Heisenberg’s detriment, hadn’t it? 

Ethan crossed his arms, “Have you ever…moved anything that big?  Other than…” when we fought. 

Karl didn’t pause before he gave a curt nod.  “Yeah.” 

“Really?”  Ethan gazed at him expectantly.  “What was it?”

Karl shook his head, indicating that he didn’t want to speak of it, but honesty compelled him to reply.  Still, a stutter lingered on the words.  “F-field of uh, it was a.  Camp.”

“A camp.”  Ethan sounded vaguely sarcastic. 

Karl stared at him with almost a glare.  “It was--a field of landmines over a Soviet camp.  Taking prisoners of war….picked em up, carried em over.  Missiles too.  That was…the first time.” 

That ominous sentence carried a feeling of dread into the silence that followed.  Ethan’s eyebrows rose as he tried to imagine Karl magnetizing and raising an entire field of landmines, and he had nothing to say in response to that.  

Karl’s eyes were still free of the glasses, and they looked doubly eerie with firelight reflecting in them.  Ethan tried not to stare.  Heisenberg peered at the fire before crossing his own arms.  

“She thinks it’s a good idea,” Karl nodded toward the Roma elder, “But wants us to wait til tonight.” 

“I imagine that would be upsetting to have happen in broad daylight," Ethan acknowledged. 

He still didn’t know much about Roma tradition, but the Duke had given him a brief synopsis on the ride over.  In general, creating a huge magnetic field and upending a mass grave to reverse the field's direction and equalize the ‘wound’ and doing god-knows-what to the Mold's consciousness and everybody in it, including Miranda--yeah, that would probably fall under ‘bad omen.’  Ethan paused, and then ventured, “Do you think my…the…heart, will last until then?”

Karl shrugged, then tilted his head with familiar Karl swagger. “Guess we’ll find out,” and with a hint of his sadistic, pre-crystallized personality, he shot a wolfish grin at Ethan and meandered away, toward one of the other groups.  Ethan watched him go with a mix of anger and surprise.  The asshole.  

And yet, something about him felt so familiar.  He also realized he didn’t worry much about whatever secrets the other man might be keeping.  An odd change from the last decade. 

[wizkiddx]

your voice

angsty vibe, requested by @hollandlover19 than you for th rq and hop this doesn't disappoint too much :)))

summary: tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

warnings: a bit angsty, but ends in fluff! argumnts and raising voices, I guess could be associated with panic attacks tho not written with that intention

//////////////////////////////////

“Oh, Y/n er sorry.” Harrisons morning dulcet tones were what you were awoken to with a groan.

Everything was achy, and your head was pounding, making you grumble in discontent as you shifted uncomfortably on the technically too-small-to-sleep-on sofa.

This was not the morning you’d foreseen even 12 hours ago.

Lockdown had been difficult for everyone, even removing the tragic health crisis. Being locked in with your boyfriend and his brothers and friends was, for the most part, amazing. Lots of laughs, lots of beers and lots of quality time that you usually didn’t get. But it was also intense.

Without a doubt, since you first got together, this was the longest time you’d ever had with Tom. And it had been brilliant, your relationship getting so much closer and just learning the subtlest intricacies about the other. In fact, when lockdown had been announced, you’d never lived together (the most a week-long holiday).

Though it was also like a pressure cooker, Toms rented house. When one of you were in an understandable but stubborn lousy mood, it affected the whole house.

Yesterday night had been the perfect storm. The weather was unbelievably scorching; your work had announced that they had to let some staff go because of the financial implications of the pandemic; a ‘mole’ had released personal details of your relationship.

And it was like a pot on the stove; everything went from controllable to violently boiling over in a matter of minutes.

Honestly, you didn’t even know why you had started arguing - it was that pathetic. And yet you’d both said pretty horrible stuff - though it was Tom who had crossed the line. Frankly, the way he’d spoken to you was almost unforgivable.

You’d both known instantly too, all his anger at you had immediately evaporated when he’d realised what he had said. It took no time for him to become a grovelling apologetic mess, however even that- it was already too late.

It might sound feeble, but honestly, you’d run and locked yourself in the downstairs loo. You’d cried on the inside- whilst from the other side of the door, he had been begging and pleading with you.

After an hour though, Tom finally gave up - hence why you’d had a pretty uncomfortable night on the sofa.

This brings it back to Harrison, the early riser of the house, barrelling into the living room after his morning run. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except also slightly terrified looking as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’m up now” You sighed, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the sofa whilst massaging your crooked neck.

“You er…. you fell asleep watching the TV?” Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the blonde, even if his poor acting was a little entertaining.

“Are we both pretending that you don’t know what went down last night?” Of course, Harrison knew. The walls were thin, you’d been screaming and he was Tom’s best friend. No doubt, Tom had immediately gone to him for help and advice last night.

Harrison held his hands up in response, caught in the act, and clicked his tongue. “What he said was bad. You shouldn’t be the one ending up with the sore back.” He wasn’t wrong.

“And yet here I am…” With a sigh you smiled which he returned with a sickeningly empathetic one “Anyway, don’t let my sad self get in the way, did you come in here for anything?”

Now, because Harrison was mentally a five year old, that’s how you ended up sat crossed-legged on the floor, clutching a wii remote and angrily shouting at yoshi on the mariokart screen. The whole household was competitive as hell and you were no exception - so some rouge elbows were flying when he viciously knocked you off the track.

Slowly Harry and Tuwaine filtered in and picked up remotes too, so the quiet morning was very quickly switched into a tense atmosphere of yelps and shouts. None more so than Tuwaine, who was possibly the worst looser you had ever met.

Really, you knew all the boys were only doing this as there way of showing you they were with you. That they also thought Tom was a massive raging dickhead. And you appreciated it more than they would ever know. Locked down in Toms house, very much not mutual ground, having three stupid boys behind you meant everything.

Just as you got on to the 18th and final race of the house’s mario grand prix, another voice cut across the tense silence as you waited for the coutdown to turn into ‘go’. Naturally, you flipped round to see Tom, looking as though he literally just rolled out of bed with puffy eyes and messy hair and no top. The sight made your heart flutter, to the point you had to consciously check yourself - refusing to smile softly at him like you usually would, instead narrowing your eyebrows and looking back at the TV.

Tom had so desperately hoped that when he came down this morning, everything would be better. That all it’d take would be a quiet conversation for the two of you to make up - for him to have you in his arms again. Primarily as he had heard your excited laugh echoing through the halls in reactions to Tuwaines yelps of protests - it made him hopeful. Waking up to a cold and empty bed was almost soul-crushing this morning. He did not want it to ever happen again.

Which is why his heart sank so much when all you gave him was a scolding look, before turning your attention to the TV. Admittedly, he was naive to think that what he’d done last night would be an easy fix - he knew it too. So with dropping shoulders, Tom silently took a seat on the sofa, watching from afar. You spent the rest of the race more absent, not joining in with the Harrison or Harrys trash-talking, acutely aware of Tom’s eyes burning the back of your head.

Then came Harry’s celebrations as the overall winner (only just) and when Harrison suggested another game Tom piped up again.

“Give me a turn Harry.”

The three boys kneeling next to you all stiffened, looking immediately to you for what seemed like consent - as if they were engaging with the enemy. (At least it was good to know everyone was on your side).

“I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting anyway.” You spoke quietly, already placing the remote on the floor and standing up.

“Y/n I don’t mind swappin-“

“No. Thanks, H but no.” You weren’t being selfless and giving Tom a turn. You were running away from seeing him.

And Harrison was still really angry at Tom. He’d been so selfish and insensitive and had hurt you- someone who Haz also cared a lot about too. Yes Tom was his bestmate, that he’d grown up with and known for years - but Haz really liked you too, in fact all the boys did. So they were almost as pissed with Tom as you were.

So while you threw the cushion you were sat on back on the floor, Harrison shot Tom the filthiest look and practically shooed him away.

“come on Y/n … just one more? Then you can do your boring work.” You were about to refuse when Haz tilted his head toward the door, only then noticing that Tom had slipped out the room. Now that he was gone ,yes, just one more wouldn’t hurt. The meeting prep wasn’t time pressured; it was an excuse for an escape.

Tuwaine whooped a little when you nodded, planting back down and ready for the first race. Yet apart from that, the room was still a little awkward, you being the first to break the silence.

“Actually Haz, would you mind giving me a lift today?”

“What to the shops?

“Um no not quite.” Tuwaine laughed in his usual innocent and infectious style before asking more.

“Seriously? You know we’re locked down? Boris won’t be happy if you going mad and leaving the house.”

“Just to Y/f/n’s. She lives on her own so it’s legal.”

“She lives just down the road right? Can’t you walk?” Harry was confused, making him look away from the screen, ultimately leading to his ‘diddykong’ falling off the track.

“I’ll have my bags. I um… I think I’m going to stay with her till lockdown eases more.”

As soon as you said that, Harry pressed pause on the race, all three boys looking at you mouth-opened.

“For real?”

“Yeh I um… think me and Tom need some time apart and being locked in isn’t helping.”

“I’m not saying to forgive and forget what he said… but he is really sorry.”

“The twats literally kicking himself.” Tuwaine added, making you smile a little for calling Tom that.

“I know just… I need some space and-“

“Are you breaking up?” Harry almost announced, cutting you off. He would miss you too.

“No! Nono I … well I don’t know. I just- we both need this.”

The boys all nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before Harrison’s blue eyes were back on you.

“Course I’ll drive, but… but I’ll miss you.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You’d left merely an hour later, whilst Tom was holed up in the garden doing what looked like an almost unbearable work out. It meant he was also out your hair and you could throw all your stuff into two suitcases without him being any the wiser. It was probably pretty cowardly to leave without speaking to him, but you couldn’t. It would hurt too much and you didn’t want to break down in front of him. No doubt as soon as you had got to Y/f/n you did - into a blubbering mess of tears - but Tom hadn’t seen so it was okay.

Speaking of. Tom.

Tom was not in a good way at all. He’d been trying really hard to curb his’ short fuse’ lately- all of which had been well and truly blown in the past 4 hours. After finally being realised from meetings, which he’d not been able to concentrate on anyway, Tom had mentally prepared himself for a lot of grovelling. Once he’d vaguely hunted the house and not found you there, he naturally asked Harry and Tuwaine (both of whom were in the living room) if they’d seen you around.

It was a typical question, the answer he was expecting was that you’d just gone on your daily walk. And yet the response he got was… well a lot more confusing. Harry’s eyes widened whilst T did his awkward-uncomfortable chuckle, the two locked in an intense bout of eye contact. It was as though they were arguing with each, but through the powers of telekinesis... and it put Tom on edge. He was already stressed because you were so angry with him, so not getting a clear answer out of his brother and best mate - lets just say it tested his patience.

“You two need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”

The two boys both looked panicked to speak to him, which was the opposite of the usual situation. They were some of the ONLY people in his life that would just say it how it is, no sugar coating. Like if he was away and being ‘famous’ was getting to his head; or if he wore the wrong pair of jeans. Even yesterday evenings events, they’d both called him out on what he’d said to you.

So why the silence?

Eventually, it was Harry who spoke up, but in doing so, practically just waved all responsibility on to another innocent party.

“Ask Haz.”

And then Tom knew. He knew this was bad. Immediately his heart was pumping at an alarmingly fast rate, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to knock before bursting the door open.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Harrison was reclined back on his haphazardly made bed, laptop balanced on his lap as he looked up with a sigh. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any less easy. With a sigh, Haz closed the lid of his MacBook and sat up on the bed.

“Tom just-“

“Where. Is. She.”

“She’s gone to Y/f/n’s.”

“Oh… okay.” Suddenly Tom’s voice was muted, thinking he might’ve blown his top at nothing. This wasn’t weird - Y/f/n was in your support bubble and you went to hers often.

Tom was grossly underestimating the situation - and Harrison heard didn’t fancy stringing him along though.

“No like gone. She um… she took all her stuff. I think she’s going to stay there till-“

Tom was already out his room at that point, slamming the door as he did so. Making a beeline for his own room, Tom then frantically started to pull out the draws and rummage around the shelves, confirming what he already knew. Your clothes were gone, your toothbrush and toiletries were gone, you were gone.

It’s important to note Tom didn’t really cry all that much. Or if he did - it was more inconsequential, at a sad movie or one of the rescue dog stories from battersea. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really cry.

Now though, it was impossible to ignore the burning of his eyes, as he sank down onto the bed that now felt twice the size. With ragged breath, he repeatedly fisted his eyes, not actually letting the tears fall - but it was impossible to not acknowledge their presence. Harrison stood wordlessly at the door frame, knowing it best not to interrupt - whilst at the same time knowing Tom shouldn’t be left alone. There was a delicate balance between the two, which he was walking on a knife-edge on right now.

After a short while, Tom looked up with red eyes and nodded at Harrison, effectively granting him entrance. With a sigh once again, Haz moved and sat next to Tom on the bed, clasping his hands together nervously.

“She said you both just needed a break from each other. Think lockdown and everything was just a bit too intense.” Haz had tried to explain, yet it seemed Tom had only managed to lock onto one of the first words.

“A break? Or breaking up?”

“I uhm… she didn’t explicitly say ending things. But I just… I don’t know to be honest mate.”

“You see the way she looked at me this morning? Like she hated me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there.”

“I don’t know what to say… she needs time and space I think.” Tom was silent for a beat, shaking his head as he cradled his forehead.

“I hate the fact you and my girlfriend are on better terms than I am.” Anddd his voice was back to scathing.

“I’m not on anyones side. But your both my friends and she… she needed some time.”

With that, Harrison made a quick exit out, getting Harry to take over the Tom supervision.

Ever since the atmosphere in the house had been tense. To say Tom was highly strung was an understatement, particularly towards Harrison. Deep down he was thankful Haz was looking out for Y/n: he was glad that Haz was checking she was okay. It’s not like Tom could, because Y/n was refusing to answer his calls, texts, whatsapps, even the slip of paper he’d slipped under Y/f/n’s door in the middle of an especially dark night.

So it was good to know Y/n was okay, but the fact she was going on socially distanced walks with the rest of his housemates was rubbing salt in the wound.

After a week and a half of complete radio silence on your end Tom had utterly worn down. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to be angry anymore, he was just tired. Tired of missing you with every breath, tired of the ten-tonne weight of guilt pressing on his chest, fucking exhausted with being angry at Haz and Harry and Tuwaine.

The best thing in his life and one of the very limited opportunities was quality time with the people he loved more than anything else. He had ruined it all.

And it was the small things. It was waking up to your soft, whispered voice in the morning; it was your infectious giggle when he surprised you with a hug from behind and gentle kisses to your neck; it was your quiet singing in the shower. Especially when he knew Haz, Harry and Tuwaine were all still seeing you and laughing with you. It hurt like hell.

Which is how he ended up hesitantly knocking on Harrison’s bedroom door at half eleven at night, with his tail between his legs. Having been so uber-healthy all lockdown, Haz was already in bed following his sleep cycle, though for Tom right now- he would be awake.

“I’m um… I’m sorry I’ve been a knob. There’s no excuse of anything I’ve just… I’ve been a knob.”

“You’re not wrong.” Harrison nodded in agreement with a sly smile, motioning for Tom to come into the room, after which he perched on the edge of the bed.

“I just… I need to speak to her but I… I don’t want to push her if she’s still hurting and I…”

“You absolutely promise not to blow your fuse? Because she couldn’t handle that.” Tom’s eyes widened, thinking this would be a much harder pitch than how it seemed to be going.

“Yesyesyes i- I promise. I just, I feel broken you know? Even if all I get is the time to say sorry, I-I really need to.”

Harrison released a deep breath, nodding slowly before throwing the covers off himself. Tom watched all his movements with a curious gaze, silently sitting as Haz pulled on a hoodie, then socks too.

“Well? Let’s go.”

//////////////////

Now, what Tom had not in the slightest bit been prepared for was this to happen tonight. Really, he hadn’t even thought Harrison would agree to let him talk to you… and even if he had, Tom not in hell thought it’d be at 11:30 that evening.

His heart was thundering in his chest, trying to hurriedly script how on earth he was going to apologise meaningfully to you - as him and Haz walked the short distance to your friends house. Honestly the whole situation was peculiar to Tom - finding it hard to believe that if you weren’t to answer his texts you wouldn’t be open to an in person conversation.

What Tom didn’t know, was how you’d been texting Haz at a similar point of desperation. You weren’t happy and even given everything Tom had said and acted - you missed your boy. No matter how infuriating he could be when trapped 24/7 - you’d quickly learnt this was the only way you wanted to spend these weird times.

So yes, Tom’s best friend knew you were hardly sleeping either, but needed that little push to interact with you boyfriend. No doubt, you’d still be awake to answer the door.

Once he’d arrived at the apartment block and walked up the stairs to the right floor, it still took some prodding and pushing from Harrison to get Tom to knock on the door. Plainly, because he was shitting himself. Haz hadn’t given him enough pre warning, enough time to work it all out in his head. So it took another encouraging nod from Harrison for him to knock on the slightly rough-round-the-edges flat door.

Y/f/n was single and young, starting her career in Kingston - so the flat she could afford was modest at best. When it was just occupied by a single person, that was manageable - two was a push. You’d only been living with her for a week and a few days but it was enough to know this flat was not ideal for two people in lockdown. You were already stepping on each others toes. It also wasn’t technically legal to move households but Y/f/n had always been in your support bubble as a single household otherwise. And so there was also a layer of guilt to it all.

Naturally then, sharing a bed with someone who wasn’t Tom meant you just were not sleeping. Even if you had both gone to bed early (just to kill some hours in the day) you were still wide awake at quarter to twelve - when a timid knock echoed through the minuscule apartment. Curiosity peaked at who the hell would be calling now; you silently slipped out of bed, managing to not disturb Y/f/n, and closed the bedroom door.

Now you weren’t an idiot. Even though this was southwest london, hardly the capital for crime, Y/f/n lived in a dodgy building with some questionable characters. And it was midnight. Hence why you approached the situation cautiously, tiptoeing to the door and waiting with your ear pressed against the wood.

“I told you she wouldn’t answer!”

“She will! Might just be in the loo or something.”

“Haz this is stupid-“

The air in your chest froze when you immediately recognised the smooth tone of his voice. It was him… and you’d missed that so much. Already there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t open the door just yet. So no, instead you slid down the doorframe before calling quietly out into the night.

“Tom?”

The bickering on the otherside of the door was silenced, but you heard a quite tap on the door... and could envision exactly what was going on. Tom, pressing both palms and his ear to the door, as Harrison took a few steps back - sensing his work was done.

“Y/n? You there?” He sounded desperate, you could hear the emotion dripping off his voice. It was only when you tried to reply did you realise your own voice was having a harder time speaking.

“Yeh its-its me.” It felt as though this heavyweight that had been pressing down on your chest was slowly lifting, making your voice all cracky and low.

In response, there was a short and sharp exhale. It sounded relieved before some fidgeting as you imagined him crouching down beside the door - mirroring your image.

“Fuck, it… it feels so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too… I’ve-i’ve missed you.”

Tom snorted at that, a gentle bang allowing you to realise he’d just whacked his head on the back of the wood.

“You have no idea how this week felt.” He was wrong though, you did.

Yes, maybe without the insurmountable guilt that Tom was rightfully feeling, but it didn’t mean that the time apart wasn’t easy.

“I do. This hasn’t been a nice holiday for me you know?”

He sighed, knowing that yet again he’d said the wrong thing. This time though, he didn’t rebut instantly (which surprised you), instead his response was more measured and calculated.

“I am so sorry. And of course, I know because I was the one that hurt you too. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.” You nodded but given this conversation was happening through a door Tom didn’t see your gentle agreement - opting to fill the silence.

“I um… I’m not good at this whole um… speaking my feelings. But I’ve hated myself ever since I picked that fight with you. It was stupid and uh it-it was all my fault. I’m so so sorry for hurting you.”

“‘Why?” You tried to ask, except the words were stuck in your throat, making you have to clear it before asking again. “Why did you say it?”

“To get a rise out of you. It’s stupid and petty and fucking-fucking dumb. I said it not because I’ve ever thought it, I never ever have, but I knew it’d hurt you. I was preying on your insecurities because I was angry at the world and that was so unfair. “

“No shit.”

Silence reigned as you fiddled with your fingers - specifically with the promise ring he’d bought you a year ago.

“You-you think you could ever forgive me?”

“Thats the annoying part. I want to hate you because you literally stabbed me then twisted the knife but… but all I’ve done this week is miss you. Even when I saw Haz or Harry or Tuwaine. I just fucking missed you.”

“Can you open the door please love?”

Clumsily you scrubbed the tear tracks off your face, scrabbling to your feet so you could thrust open the doors. Because you might still be bloody pissed at him, but at the same time - you needed your Tom. Thrusting the door open, the first thing you registered was being pressed into Tom’s chest. His arms slinked around your waist and held him tight, which you reciprocated, squeezing tightly round his neck. Your senses were all being assaulted by one thing and one thing only. Tom.

He smelt like usual, except maybe the slightest bit stronger than usual - you figured he hadn’t showered in a day or two or bothered with cologne. The top of your forehead was pressed up against his chin, and as he readjusted his grip on you, you felt the scratchy feeling of his unshaven stubble. He kept whispering apologies against the top of your head, almost desperate and religiously.

Arching back, you brought both hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his glassy brown. eyes, which looked so lost and confused.

“I’m still angry.”

“Of course-“

“I’m still angry but I’m going to kiss you okay?”

Safe to say Tom didn’t require a verbal response, taking it upon himself to nudge his lips against yours, yet waiting for you to initiate the kiss. And that you did, everything else about this godforsaken week and a half. His index finger traced the angle of your jaw, whilst he held your lower back tight, pressing himself as close as physically possible to you. Needing you.

Eventually arching back, your thumb ran over his deep and sunken under-eyes, which added so much age to his face.

“You look tired Tommy.”

“Can’t sleep without you telling me goodnight.” That was another tradition you had had. Even when he was away, you’d even set an alarm for whatever bedtime was for the other across the world. Just so you could send a little message or voice not saying goodnight. Was it cringey? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

But since you’d been away all the evening wishes were absent from you. Which hurt Tom more than you may ever know.

“I know you’re still angry but will you please come home to me? I need you to be the last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning.”

would love to hear any feedback <333 (but think this is a bit of a shitter so im sorry!!!)

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @thegirlwiththeimpala @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @hollandlover19 @hunnybunimdun @crossyourpeter @thefernandasantana@hallecarey1

[pies-writes-and-more]

HIHIHI I HAVE A REQUEST IF YOURE UP FOR IT KASJHDASKD i was wondering if you could do tsukishima, akaashi, and kageyama (you dont have to do all of them if you dont want to) with a s/o who loves giving affection but doesn't really take it *seriously* when they recieve it? like they think that the character is joking bc they could never actually be that amazing? (sry if this made absolutely no sense just ignore it if you want kaskjasd)

Warnings: potentially some swearing, Akaashi saying “good girl” which I do think deserves a warning, Y/N having some insecure moments, but all fluffy endings promise!

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji, & Kageyama Tobio, all with a fem!Reader

A/N: okay @lucyheartfilias-wife i know this took foREVER for me to finish and I’m so sorry xD but i kept going back and forth between ideas so this is what we ended up with! I hope they’re decent enough!! <3 Not of the following gifs are mine! Creds to the original creators :)

Haikyuu Masterlist

Tsukishima Kei

If Tsukishima knew one thing, it was that he was a lucky boy. Somehow he had managed to make a girl who was probably made of sunshine and rainbows, like him back and somehow figured out how to keep you around.

Although he always had an annoyed look on his face when they did, anytime the team asked about you or mentioned you to him, he was always happy to subtly brag about you.

“Our little Tsukishima has grown up hasn’t he?” Sugawara laughed, slapping pats to the back of the tall first year. “You’re not blackmailing her are you?” Tsukishima just rolled his eyes in response.

“It must be nice to have such a pretty girl around!” Noya whined loudly, punching the wall angrily.

“It is,” Tsukishima smirked, enjoying the immediate anger that Noya tried to turn on him. Daichi held the wild libero back with an exasperated smiled, shaking his head.

“She’s really smart too isn’t she?” Hinata gaped, having only really heard of this girl that Tsukishima was dating but Yamaguchi said it was a girl in their class so she had to be smart.

“Anyone’s smart compared to you,” Tsukishima scoffed but shrugged. “She’s the top of our class.”

Everyone made sounds of excitement and surprise, the upperclassmen nodding in approval, “Who knew this salty bean pole could find someone smart and pretty to like him back?” Tanaka snickered and Tsukishima just rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t meant to overhear the conversations happening in the club room but you were just waiting for your boyfriend against the railing. To say you were a bit embarrassed was an understatement. And that embarrassment was probably written all over your face because when Tsukishima finally came out, his cheeks turned pink seeing your expression.

“What?” He asked after a beat, avoiding your eyes as he started to walk towards the stairs.

“You know you don’t have to lie to your teammates right?” You asked him eventually, giving him a small smile. “I’m sure they know you’re just being nice.”

For once, you had actually surprised Tsukishima. Normally he could tell exactly what you were thinking but this time, he actually stopped in his steps and looked at you like you had grown a second head in the last few moments.

“Lie?” He asked, tilting his head up in thought before scoffing a bit, “What part of what I said was a lie? For that matter, how much of that nonsense did you hear?”

The word nonsense rang in your ear repeatedly, echoing all your insecurities further into your subconscious, “I dunno, how much were you saying?” You retorted, glancing at him with a shrug. “Come on, I wanna get home before it gets too dark,” you decided when he didn’t answer right away. The two of you started walking, Tsukishima clearly deep in thought because for once on your way home, he wasn’t complaining about the boys or listening to music. He was just… walking.

“When did I lie?” He finally asked at your doorstep, as if realizing if he didn’t ask now, he never would. He grabbed your wrist before you could turn away and leave without answering him, tugging you closer so he could look right into your eyes (he could always tell when you were lying to him).

“What?” You squirmed a bit. You knew exactly what he was asking but did you really want to admit it?

“You said I lied to my teammates. What did I lie about?” His frown was tight, eyes as serious as ever. “I’ve been thinking about everything I said to them and I can’t think of a lie that I told. Was it about everyone being smarter than Hinata? Because I really was telling the truth.” The little smirk at the end made you feel like he was trying to keep this lighthearted. But the topic weighed so heavily on both your shoulders.

You could feel Tsukishima keeping your gaze right on him, and knew if you looked away, he might just get more upset. So you were forced to just look at him awkwardly, as if he was looking through your very thoughts.

“I asked you out didn’t I?” He continued when you didn’t respond right away. “Doesn’t that make you my girlfriend?”

You let out a little laugh, surprised that that’s what he had come up with after that very silent walk home. “Yeah, I suppose so,” you smiled, finally pulling your eyes away from him and staring at your hands as you fiddled with your fingers.

“So what-”

“They’re just being nice,” you tried to tell him awkwardly, cutting him off from asking one more time. “I’m not… I’m not everything they’re pretending I am. And you don’t have to keep up the charade with them.”

Tsukishima’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what charade could you possibly be talking about.

“I know I’m not as pretty as your managers,” you explained quietly. “And I’m sure being surrounded by them all the time has got you having some high expectations and standards for girls. That’s why I was surprised when you asked me out… but I know it’s probably just cause we’re always together and we study together. I know I’m pretty helpful when it comes to schoolwork so-”

Tsukishima started laughing. Like genuinely, throwing his head back, from the bottom of his belly kind of laugh. Your eyes widened as you watched this normally cool and collected idiot snicker himself practically to death.

“T-Tsukishima?” You blinked, poking him a little to make sure he wasn’t just having some sort of weird seizure.

He finally ran out of breath, standing back up straighter than ever and hitting the top of your head (not as gently as he should’ve, how rude), “Listen here, shortie,” he huffed, leaning down slightly so you were forced to look at him. “I have high standards for anyone I even keep around me. The only one who’s exceeded my standards for dating though, is you.”

You watched him, blinking nervously as if he was going to laugh in your face again and tell you it was a joke.

“I didn’t lie to them, idiot,” he shook his head, flicking your forehead. “You’re way too pretty to be as self-conscious as you are.”

Words would never solve your self-consciousness, you knew this. But if there was ever a moment that would ever come close - it would be this one.

“Go inside alright,” he grinned at you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and shoving you closer to your door. “And the next time I compliment you, you better accept it.”

You couldn’t even retort anything back before he ushered you inside, gave you a cheeky wink, and started to head home.

You were still very bad at accepting Tsukishima’s compliments and almost felt tortured with how much he could try to get you to understand how much he loved you. So naturally, Tsukishima just did it more and more.

Everything you did became a compliment, just to make you all hot headed and make him chuckle. He would praise you for being one of the smartest people he knew after a test or assignment, he’d say you were the cutest person up on the stands after his volleyball games, would just shower you in aggressive amounts of affection (well aggressive for him).

And then one day…

One day you day you didn’t fight back as much. And Tsukishima just smiled because he would never say anything to you he didn’t mean.

Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi was literally an embodiment of everything that someone could want. He was calm and wonderfully humble, his voice was like a mellow song that you could fall asleep to and he had the most amazing biceps that just made your heart flutter every time you saw them.

He was everything you could ever dream of which was both incredible… and not at the same time. It almost hurt to know that he was this unobtainable boy standing near you. Sure, you were dating - but how long until he realized you were beneath him? How much longer would it take him to realize that there was better.

You couldn’t hide these thoughts from Akaashi and more often than not, he’d give you a look like I know what you’re thinking, stop that, and then tell you he loves you before you just nod and smile and try to focus on something else. He’d let it go there, but he’d probably spend the rest of the day with you trying to convince you he really meant it.

But today he wasn’t next to you to read your face. Today, he was going to be down on that court, showing off his incredible reflexes and sports ability, and you would be up here. Blending in with the crowd. You were a filler character - something to fill the stands with and not be noticed. Unoriginal. Boring.

“Y/N!” Bokuto ran to you, grinning as wide as ever. “Look what I brought you!” He held up Akaashi’s jacket happily, waving it over his head as he jumped up and down in front of you.

You tried to put on a smile, as if you hadn’t just been spinning in your insecurities a few seconds ago. Your eyes focused on the jacket that Bokuto was trying to put on you, blinking as you came to the realization that he had 100% stolen this from your boyfriend without his knowledge, “Bokuto, won’t he need this?” You offered with a small laugh.

He shook his head with a grin, “He practically discarded it somewhere. I thought I’d come bring it to you! It would probably make him super happy to see you in his jacket! And you look so cute in our colours!” Bokuto declared, patting your head. You tried to start telling him that he should bring it back and that you weren’t really sure Akaashi would want you wearing it, but suddenly you could hear his coach on the court screaming from him to get his ass back down there. “Whoops! Gotta run! Cheer hard for us!” Bokuto gave you a thumbs up before running down.

You stood there for a moment, face feeling hot as you start to smell Akaashi’s scent on the jacket. How did he manage to smell this good all the time?

You could hear whispers from people in the stands, some people wondering who you were or if you were Bokuto or Akaashi’s girlfriend, since it was Bokuto who gave you the jacket.

All the ruckus from his coach made Akaashi actually look over, smirking a bit while Bokuto was getting scolded. He sheepishly made his way over, trying to seem all innocent to his best friend.

“Where the hell even were you?” Akaashi asked, throwing him a toss as the boys warmed up.

“Oh! Just dropping something off to Y/N for you!” Bokuto grinned, nodding in your direction as he received the ball nice and high.

Akaashi shouldn’t have looked over. But he did. His eyes locked onto you and saw you in his jacket and for a moment, he definitely spaced out. His whole brain was just thinking about you and nothing else and he didn’t knock himself out of it until Bokuto’s pass knocked him right in the head.

“Akaashi! Are you okay?” Bokuto laughed, knowing the pass had been pretty soft. Akaashi’s cheeks turn a bit pink as he shook it off, running after the ball.

You were wearing his jacket. And you looked so good in it.

After a complete win for the game, Akaashi was so hyped up to see you. You had worn his jacket the whole game and he had to avoid looking at you because you were just so distracting.

But now that it was over, he wanted nothing more than to swoop you into a hug and admire you. You gave him a huge grin when you caught up with the team, excitedly cheering them for their win and giving Bokuto high fives.

Akaashi watched you with a small smile on his face. You glanced over at him and gave a nervous sort of smile, noting there was a difference in how he was looking at you. “Oh! Here, you’ll get cold soon when your adrenaline stops pumping,” you said, pulling the jacket off.

“It’s alright,” he insisted, smirking a bit down at you. “You look gorgeous, I don’t want you to take it off,” he admitted with a smile, patting your head adoringly.

Your face gets all hot again, avoiding his eyes quickly, “Alright alright, Mr. High Off Of A Win,” you laughed nervously, poking at his chest gently. He raised an eyebrow at your dismissive behaviour.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t go spreading stuff that isn’t true,” you shrugged, shoving your hands in the jacket pocket. Sure, you liked the jacket but there was no way you were as pretty as he was making you out to be. Gorgeous? No way.

Akaashi’s eyes darkened slightly hearing this, taking your chin into his fingers and tilting your chin up so you were forced to look at him, “You think I’d lie to you?”

The question made you shrink inside, noting his hardened expression. He didn’t like it when you were hard on yourself, always made you notice all the little great things about you. But this wasn’t a private conversation, and people were starting to stare, which just made your face go even warmer. “N-No,” you mumble out shyly, trying to look away but he kept your gaze.

“Good girl,” he smirked at you, tapping your nose gently, “Now take the compliment. And wear my jacket more often, alright?”

You couldn’t help but nod at that point, Akashi smiling in his satisfaction before dragging you off for the team’s celebratory meal. The pit in your stomach that liked to tell you you were a filler character was slightly less intense now, after talking to your boyfriend. Akaashi had such an effect on you and there was no denying it. How could a guy like that be with a girl like you, you would never understand. But there was such an honesty in his eyes, and he was right after all, he wasn’t the type to lie about these things… so maybe. Just maybe. There was some truth to it.

Kageyama Tobio

Kageyama wasn’t the best at noticing hints and subtle things, and honestly, he’d rather if people were just blunt and to the point with him. But with you, he knew that he would have to learn between the lines. It wasn’t because you weren’t great at communication (and let’s be honest, even if you were bad at it, Kageyama was in NO place to call you out on that), but rather, Kageyama understood that at some point in relationships, it was important to see what the other person wanted.

So when he started really trying to read you, he found himself almost discouraged by a reoccurring instance.

It was real subtle at first, and in that moment, Kageyama probably wouldn’t have noticed. But he probably just smile at you and press a kiss to your forehead, thanking you for always thinking of him.

“You’re always so thoughtful, Y/N. I appreciate what you do for me,” he told you, almost like he was thanking a teacher for their help on homework which just made you laugh.

“Don’t be silly, Kageyama, it’s just a milk box,” you insisted, giving a little wave to his teammates before he left.

But it wasn’t just a milk box and even Kageyama could see that. He had forgotten his lunch today and you had shared yours with him. But he always had a milk with his lunch and you didn’t have one, but he didn’t have the chance to actually buy one before he had to head back to classes. He didn’t think he had mentioned anything about the milk, or even hesitated to eat without it. But you had still gone out of your way to buy one for him and bring it to him after classes.

You had even apologized that it was later than he usually had his milk, as if you should’ve known to get it earlier. Kageyama was amazed that you even went and bought him one. He held the box in his hands for a moment before getting called over to start practice, promising himself to have the drink right after practice.

It wasn’t just that you brushed off his appreciation for what you did for him. Kageyama always felt something was wrong when he complimented you. So much so, he had to awkwardly ask his upperclassmen for help.

“Oh our little Kageyama needs help with his girlfriend hmmm?” Tanaka laughed, hands on his hips like he was some sort of relationship expert.

“I dunno why you’d come to us,” Daichi admitted with a smirk, leaning against a nearby wall as he considered the question. “It’s not like any of us are really all that experienced with girls.”

“But you know how to… communicate,” Kageyama explained, playing with his fingers as he shyly stared at the floor. “I’m just worried I’m… doing that thing that Hinata says I do. Where I think I’m complimenting her but I’m actually hurting her.”

Sugawara chuckled and threw his arm around his first year’s neck, fluffing up his hair playfully, “Aw! Little Tobio is growing up!”

“What kinds of things are you saying to her?” Asahi asked, offering Kageyama a smile as the blueberry boy tried to fix his now messed up hair.

Kageyama thought about it for a moment, not having to think that far back to remember an example. “This morning, she was wearing her hair differently,” Kageyama told them, gesturing towards his hair as if to act out how her hair was. “And I told her she looked very pretty.”

The boys just looked at him, as if expecting for there to be more. “Okay and?” Noya piped up, shrugging.

“That’s it,” Kageyama blinked. “Should I have said something else?”

“Why would you say something else, Kageyama?” Daichi raised an eyebrow, noting the distress in the setter’s eyes.

Kageyama huffed, remembering how you awkwardly turned away, as if he had said something brash, “She just said ‘you don’t have to do that, Kageyama’ and changed the subject. But I don’t know what she meant. Was… Was I not supposed to tell her? She did look very pretty but should I have kept that to myself?”

Sugawara gave him a sympathetic smile, “I think you did fine, Kageyama, don’t worry! Maybe she was just embarrassed.”

The others agreed, Tanaka explaining to him that some people were bashful when it came to their appearances.

“But she’s the most perfect being in the whole country!” Kageyama burst out, his forehead creased with concern. “Why shouldn’t I tell her?”

“Just in the country?” Asahi chuckled and Sugawara smacked his arm.

“Don’t tease him, I don’t think Kageyama has ever left the country!”

“Maybe she’s just not used to you complimenting her. Like how you weren’t too used to holding hands with her at the beginning of your relationship,” Daichi offered, remembering how red the boy’s face was you first took his hand at a tournament. He didn’t even know he had to hold your hand back and just had his hand staying there stiff.

Kageyama nodded slowly - he could understand that. It just took some time and then he was okay with it eventually. Now he would grab your hand out of instinct and it wasn’t something foreign to him.

After talking to his upperclassmen, Kageyama felt a little better. Perhaps it wasn’t his words then, maybe he just had to do it more.

But after a week of trial and error, Kageyama still couldn’t understand why you still seemed so uncomfortable. The day after consulting the second and third years, Kageyama had told you he really liked the way you hummed and that you had a really nice voice (he really did like it, it was his favourite thing to listen to).

But you just flickered your eyes away from him, offering a nervous laugh, “It’s nothing,” you mumbled before quickly asking him about his practice schedule.

So Kageyama thought maybe you just didn’t like talking about your singing. So when the two of you were studying, you noticed his laser focus wasn’t on his work but instead on you. His eyes were so trained on you, it was like how he was on the volleyball court.

“Kageyama?” You blinked in surprise, catching him staring at you. “Are you alright?”

“You’re really smart, Y/N!” He blurted out, a firm nod afterwards like confirming what he was saying. “I appreciate you always coming to help me work!”

But you just squirmed in your seat, turning your eyes back to your work, “I really don’t know all that much.”

It had been a week of this back and forth, Kageyama desperately trying to find what was going on. Was it him? Was he just not using the right words? Could he actually be being really rude and didn’t realize it? Was it his face? Was he supposed to smile more?

Finally, Kageyama felt like he was at the end of his rope. He didn’t know what to do now.

“The sunset is really pretty today!” You beamed as the two of you walked home from his practice. He glanced over and noticed the brilliant colours in the sky. It looked nice sure, but how could you understand that that looked pretty and you didn’t?

“I think you’re prettier.” He stated simply. Kageyama didn’t really know what lines were cheesy and what weren’t. But you did and your face just overheated immediately in response.

“K-Kageyama, don’t say things like that!” You insisted, staring to walk ahead.

“Wait!” Kageyama yelped, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you back to him. “What am I doing wrong?” he asked you desperately, his eyes wide and searching yours for some sort of answers.

You stared at him for a moment, confused by his words, “Wrong?” You repeated softly, noticing how upset he looked.

“I…” Kageyama’s voice faltered as he watched your eyes. “I keep trying to tell you how amazing you are. You do all these things for me, you help me when I’m upset and you always help me train. You throw balls for me and Hinata, even when you’d rather be at home. You call me during my jogs just to keep me company. You bring me milk when I forget mine. And you always compliment me when I’m feeling like I’m not 100%… so what am I doing wrong? Because everything I say to you… it doesn’t seem to work.”

Something in you clicked. Is this why Kageyama had been acting so weird this week?

“Kageyama… I do all that because I like you and I want you to be your best,” you explained softly. “And I compliment you because I mean it! Not because I’m trying to make you feel better. Or try to boost your self-esteem.”

There was something in your tone that Kageyama couldn’t place. What was that in your voice?

“Why are you sad when I try to tell you things?” Kageyama was practically begging you for an answer. He didn’t understand how to read things from your tone, he wanted to desperately to understand but he just couldn’t grasp it. “Sugawara told me that complimenting people on things makes them feel good… am I doing it wrong? Please just tell me, I’ll be better! I’ll be the best boyfriend!”

Your smile was almost sad and Kageyama’s heart tugged a little in his chest, “I don’t want you to say things because you feel like you have to say them,” you sighed softly, now avoiding his eyes. “I know my hair is a mess most of the time, I know that my singing isn’t some professional level shit, and I know I’m not the model kind of girl or those gorgeous girls who come to your games. I don’t need you to try and convince me otherwise…”

Kageyama’s mind felt like it was blowing up. What were you talking about?

“Don’t be so stupid,” Kageyama whined, huffing at you and poking your forehead, “You think I’m lying about these things? You think I say them because I feel like I have to?” Kageyama shook his head, taking your face into his hands. “I’m not the best with words, I know this. But you are…” Kageyama’s face twisted into a funny expression as he tried to find the words he wanted, “the most perfect thing. You’re like when I make a perfect set and the spike goes right past the blockers!”

You couldn’t help but smile as he went on talking about volleyball. You weren’t surprised - he often related things to volleyball to understand better.

“You… are the perfect jump serve. Seeing you is like I’m winning full sets at Nationals!” He expressed, looking at you with wide eyes in hopes you were understanding. “I’m not trying to make you feel better about yourself, Y/N. You are everything I could possibly want. You make me feel like volleyball isn’t the only thing that matters anymore. I want to hear you sing all the time and I love your hair no matter how you think it looks.”

Your eyes were welling up with tears as he spoke dramatically, looking up at the sky as if that would help him figure out his sentences better. When he finally looked back at you, he jumped back almost immediately in fear.

“N-No! Don’t cry! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought up volleyball again! I-”

You laughed and quickly shook your head, grasping his hands in yours, “Happy tears, Kageyama,” you explained softly, almost immediately burying your face in his chest as you drew him closer for a hug. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Kageyama wasn’t really sure what you were thanking him for but he hugged you tightly anyways. He hated seeing you cry and he would squeeze them all out of you until there was none left if he had to. “You are very pretty.” He stated, pressing a kiss to your head.

And this time, you didn’t argue. You just stayed there in his arms, and listened to the genuineness in his voice.

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@scphiredrafts @aurumk @devilkittymusic @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @lucyheartfilias-wife @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @wolfishwriting @livy384

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

[halcyon-writings]

OK BUT SERIOUSLY SINCE REQUESTS R OPEN MAY I GRACIOUSLY REQUEST AN ETHAN WINTERS (RE8) X DAUGHTER READER (PLATONIC) WHOS A TEEN AND ACCOMPANIES HIM ON THE JOURNEY AND SHES REALLY PROTECTIVE OVER HER AND SHE DISAPPEARS IN THE DIMITRESCU CASTLE ONLY TO BE FOUND BY ETHAN LOCKED IN A OR SUM SHIT WAITING FOR ETHAN THANK YOU TAKE CARE OF URSELF IS THIS GOOD ENOUGH HSHAHAHAH

so idk if this was a request for hcs or a fic so i kind of just did a combo of the two

warnings/notes: canon typical violence, some mentioned re7 + village spoilers, gn!reader

It starts off how stories like these always do, a man has no need to go into a terrifying yet quiet town or farmhouse, but he does anyway, because he has a big heart to make up for the lack of rational sense. He knew something was wrong about Mia’s final video call, that her message was showing anything but the fact that she was safe. So he loaded up his car and got to driving.

And now who would’ve thought that it domino’d into Ethan Winters, currently hoisting up his teenaged child into a farm house’s window to unlock it from the inside so that a group of bloodthirsty lycans would not tear them apart, being here?

He wishes he could tell what you were thinking. When he had found you back at the Baker’s home, you were quiet, skittish, and scared. But unharmed for the most part, molded and the infected family alike seemed to avoid you. Well not Lucas, but he was the textbook example of homicidal, so Ethan supposed he didn’t count. Sure with the time passing, you had gotten comfortable, and the therapy Chris and his group had provided helped too. But you were still quiet for the most part.

Until something changed. Rather spending time with Mia, you kept to yourself in your room. Otherwise you kept around Ethan himself or baby Rose if the parents needed you to look after her while they worked during the day, or at least when Mia had strangely not wanted to keep Rose with herself at all times. At meal times you had made yourself scarce too, quickly finishing what you had on your plate and cleaning your dish, returning to your room. Mia’s behavior was strange and he had ticked it off as being concerned but wanting to give you your space.

“You know how teenagers are,” She would say with a simple shrug. “I’m sure whatever this phase is will end soon.”

And then it didn’t.

Because now you were being dragged out of your room by men in all sorts of gear with weapons pointed at you, Rose’s cries echoing throughout the dark house while you fruitlessly struggled against them. You hear Ethan call out for you, righteous anger and worry in his voice. You try and reach for him, but only feel a sharp pain at the back of your neck. Your vision goes dark and so does your consciousness follows soon after.

And that’s how you both end up here. The truck meant to transport you somewhere crashes. You ignore the bad feeling as you step out, snow crunching beneath your shoes. At least they let you put on decent shoes, your fuzzy slippers surely would’ve been soaked by the snow.

Ethan calls your name and you look up, he begins to take off the large jacket from the bodies, the bodies, left of the soldiers meant to take you to wherever Chris had wanted you to go. And your shivering form doesn’t help, a small and thin sweater only doing so much for you. It should’ve felt wrong to disrespect the dead like that but your mother- guardian was dead, and your baby sister was missing.

The village was an experience from hell, memories of the Baker House were quick to rear its ugly head. You try and cover your ears, eyes shut tight as you crouch in an attempt to make yourself smaller. From those, creatures almost mauling you and Ethan losing his fingers, to Luisa and those villagers, they did not deserve the gruesome end they got.

Ethan kneels beside you, hands cupping your head as he brings you close into an embrace, quiet assurances that you both will be leaving soon, finding Rose and going home. “I’ll protect you kiddo,” He swears, and you believe it. Your head is tucked under his chin, and Ethan remembers that you’re still a child too, his words to protect you weren’t just that, as he swears to himself. He would tear those things apart for both of his children, to make sure they could go home and live in peace. His heart clenches however, when his mind trails to Mia and how she would not be with them.

And then you reach a wine cellar of all places. Before you meet a mysterious man that makes goosebumps rise on your skin. And then a metal pipe goes through his leg, and the pair of you are encased in metal scrap, being dragged to who knows where. Finding yourselves in a cold chapel, in front

Although the worried look you send his way makes Ethan think maybe it was better off to be back in the wine cellar. As the man- Heisenberg- forces him to run while you’re dragged back. You try to run at least, but you don’t make it far. The Very Tall and Dangerous Looking Lady peers down at you from underneath the brim of her hat. But rather than malice, it’s... warmth?

And once more your poor head is a victim of a sharp hit, losing consciousness again. The last bit you see is your father-figure all but being pushed down a hole as he flees the lycans that surrounded him, continuing to look back at you in worry. You shake your head, hoping it conveyed that you wanted him to go.

But now you can’t say in particular that you’re having a bad time, since you’re inside, the fire from the castle’s several hearths keeping the place warm. The Lady of the house introduces you to her daughters. You can’t help but shrink behind her when they all seemingly surround you both.

Lady Dimitrescu only laughs behind a gloved hand. And allows you all to mingle. If you could call it that by being locked away in a spare room. You couldn’t even stop them, they had the ability to lose a physical form by turning into flies. You wished you had some kind of power like that. You don’t hear much from any of them after that. Occasionally you hear the tall woman’s steps around the corridor, but that’s it.

You chew your lip nervously, a bad habit that you thought you had gotten rid of since Louisiana. You can only stare out the window hopelessly, being on a tall floor, the fall would’ve grievously injured you or worse. The smooth brick was not good for climbing. You tried at least attempting to break the door down, but whatever it had been made off was practically impossible to break. (Your poor shoulder still aches from trying to ram it down). Gun shots echoing through the mansion don’t sooth your nerves either, maybe Redfield was here too, either to finish the job he started with-

The click of the lock makes you jump, quickly grabbing a glass vase, hiding behind the door. Your eyes close as you look down, you tremble. Before throwing it all to the wind and just tossing the large vase in an attempt to make a run for the unlocked door. Only to be stopped by a face you thought you’d never see again.

“Dad?” Your voice is raspy, from the lack of use, but you can’t manage say anything else as you’re brought into a tight hug, almost falling to the ground from the sheer relief you had felt seeing him alive. He quickly checks you over, chin in his hand as he inspects you for any obvious injury, quickly hugging you once more. 

“It’s okay, I’m here now,” You notice his hands, bandages bloodier from before. “Let’s find get out of here,” He says with finality and you nod. You carefully take his hand, the one that actually did have all five fingers, giving it a squeeze. Now it was time to escape and find your little sister. 

[house-of-no-regrets]

No Regrets [in the wee hours]

Took a bit longer than expected, but I’ve finished the next little story! Hopefully I’ll be able to keep a decent pace on these. No overarching plot, just little stories in the same universe with the same characters. Warning for ~*murder*~ in this one!

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

I've been all-too-easy to wake up since I was a child; I'd often needed to go from dead asleep to functional, if groggy, as soon as I heard my father demanding action or attention. While I no longer need that reaction time, the old man long since locked up to rot, my brain is set in its ways and very convinced that I need to be able to bolt out of bed and fight God if a dust bunny moves too quickly in my vicinity.

Which is how I found myself waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden shift in the atmosphere bringing on consciousness with all the subtlety of a foghorn.

My room was silent, still, but I knew without opening my eyes that there was a spirit somewhere, and I didn't even give them a chance to speak before I pointed at the sign posted on my wall, barely shifting from my comfortable snuggle in my blanket and not even opening my eyes. Yes, this happens more often than I care to admit. No, I do not enjoy it. At all.

"Resurrection hours are noon to eight. I'm still alive and still need sleep to function."

There was silence, but the presence didn't leave, so I groaned and raised my head, finally opening my eyes to see the translucent, vaguely glowing, and unfortunately blurry spirit at the foot of my bed.

It did finally speak in a bewildered voice.

"Um, I'm being murdered."

Ah, fuck.

I grabbed my glasses from the bedside table and put them on. The spirit at the foot of my bed was tallish -- I've always been bad at estimating height, maybe half a foot shorter than Yvette? Five-nine... ish? -- and seemed to be in his twenties. There was a considerable dark stain on his chest and belly; likely blood, and the cause of his death. The newly-dead tend to show things like that, as they haven't had the time to get used to modifying their form.

I really hate it when brand new ones find me. I'm not sure how it started, but it seems like more and more often, now, the dead are drawn to No Regrets before they even realize they're dead, at least if they're the type to need my help. Wish I wasn't the one who had to break it to him. I'm not great with people.

"Sorry, bro, but I'm afraid they succeeded. Where was it? I'll get the police over there."

"Uhh... my house. I think. It's a little..."

I sighed. Right.

"You're probably a little out of it still... fresh dead usually are. C'mon, I'll take you around until things look familiar."

Climbing out of bed, I headed over to grab my hoodie from the back of the chair. I learned the hard way that sleeping is not a tits out sort of occasion when you're liable to get the dead dropping in at all hours of the night, so I sleep in pajama pants and a tank top. Little too chilly for tank tops outside, though. I shoved my phone in my hoodie and my feet into loafers, then started heading out of my room and down the hall.

"You remember your name?" I asked, trying to make conversation and learn what I could.

"Uh, Davis. Craig? Craig Davis."

"Well, Craig Davis, I'm sorry to hear about your passing. You're gonna need to possess me for this little adventure, by the way, but I'll walk you through it once we're outside."

"I- what?"

Considering how often I find myself lost in normal conversations, dealing with confused new spirits is especially difficult. Still shaking off my body's angry demands for More Sleep was not helping matters in the slightest, either.

"Possession. I'll explain it in just a minute." I rubbed an eye and yawned as I stopped in the foyer to pull a set of keys off one of the hooks on the wall.

Usually, I've got a driver. Not for vanity reasons, but after three or four near-misses caused by Sudden Spirits appearing in the car with me, I elected to hire someone to drive me into and around town as needed. But it was Fuck-This-Shit O'Clock in the morning, and Graves deserved their rest. The dead don't need to sleep, but they can if they so choose -- and it does, after all, conserve energy. The same goes for Yvette and Ashby; it was too early in the morning for most people to be out and searching for a necromancer to kill, so I wasn't gonna disturb them. I could handle a simple spirit chauffeur and 911 call on my own.

The keys were to the motor scooter; it was the better choice in this situation, allowing for more mobility and no passenger seat for any extra ghosts to drop into. That did, though, mean that Craig would need to ride shotgun in my body.

When I got out to the green scooter in the driveway, I paused and looked over at Craig.

"Hey, I know you're probably still a little out of it, so Possession 101." Script time. At least having this stuff memorized made it easier to do while dozy. "Our bodies need to take up the same space, so c'mere." I beckoned Craig over.

"So like… step into you?" He asked. Good, seemed like his head was clearing up some.

"Yeah, that's part 1."

He nodded and complied, crossing the space between us and settling in the same location, the two of us clipped into each other like bugged NPCs. It always felt so weird, those moments before a spirit actually possesses you. A sort of wobbly, in-and-out feeling like physics is trying to crush you and the spirit together, or, failing that, just kick your ass to the ground so you're not both in the same place at the same time.

"A'ight, now turn around and face the direction I’m facing, and overlay your hands onto mine as best you can." It was just a moment for him to obey, and I continued. "I'm not resisting, so you're gonna start feeling like you're being pulled in and pushed out at the same time. Space is trying to equalize. Let yourself be pulled in. It's gonna feel a bit like-"

The whirlpool effect kicked in before I could finish, the sudden snap and release of tension as Craig's spirit sank into my body. I wobbled a bit and grabbed the handlebar in front of me, then shivered at the sudden chill and dizziness. I'm pretty good at taking on passengers like this, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

"You in there, buddy?" I asked out loud. Especially with new spirits, trying to think at each other was more trouble than it was worth. My lips moved to answer, though it wasn't my voice coming out.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah I'm here."

I grabbed the helmet hanging on the other handlebar and snapped it on, kicking the stand up and plopping heavily onto the seat.

"Great. Let's go."

"Wait, why am I not in control?" came Craig's confused voice. He felt almost frustrated, an undercurrent of emotion that wasn't mine despite being in my mind and body.

"Because this is my body, and I let you in willingly. Easier to keep control when you're letting someone in. Plus," I gave a little snort. "You just died, dude. I've been letting spirits possess me since middle school."

I felt his frustration turn to grumpiness, and then the pressure in my head, like a storm rolling in, that I knew from experience was him trying to take control. I froze and let out an irritated huff.

"You stop that. I'm not dealing with you doing some dumb shit with my body. Either chill out or get out."

"Oh- uh. Just wanted to see if I could…"

"Uh-huh. Anyhow, now that you're together enough to try joyriding, do you remember much about where you were before you were killed?"

I started up the scooter as emotions rolled through my mind, detached and distant, almost like the muffled dissociation I was used to mid-shutdown. Possessing spirits' emotions always felt weird like that, both mine and not mine, held at arm's length. Craig's was especially turbulent for a new death, but given that he had been murdered… I didn't fault him for being a little confused and angry. Even if it did put me a little on edge. 

"Uh- South Pine Street, Dogwood Acres housing development."

"Baller. That's not far from here. Once we get close to your body, you should be able to feel where it is, so I'll have a house number for the police. Don't want to have them scream in all blue lights and loud sirens and have your killer go to ground before they know which house, y'know?"

The muffled flare of anger that I felt was definitely not my own. I took a deep breath, hoped that the killer had panicked and tried to clean up instead of get rid of the body first, and puttered off towards Dogwood.

The housing development was quiet, lines upon lines of identical suburban boxes lit by flickering street lights that cast the sidewalks and yards in harsh white light. The occasional house had the glow of yellow within, but most of them were dormant. Weaving my way through the maze of streets, each one absolutely indistinguishable from the one before and the one to come, I felt terribly exposed -- and alone despite the spirit currently hitching along in my body.

I turned onto South Pine and brought my scooter to a puttering stop, stabilizing it with both feet on the ground. I couldn't help but bounce my legs to replace the vibration of driving; the sudden lack of sensation would ratchet my anxiety up even if I wasn't currently letting a frustrated dead man hang out in my head to catch his murderer.

...I should be more than a little anxious, really, but half-asleep Tabby once again wrote a check that more-awake Tabby is having to cash, and more-awake Tabby is very used to having to deal with the consequences of her idiot decisions. It occurred to me that normal peoples' consequences didn't usually involve murder, but when you live with the dead, you're bound to meet a few killers.

Two houses down, I could feel- not a tug so much as a presence, an echo of Craig's spirit reacting to his body. It was the only one on the street with its lights on and its garage, while not lit, was open. There was a car in the garage, another in the driveway, and a pickup at the curb in front.

"258?" I asked Craig, though I knew the answer already. His anger flared and I felt the oncoming storm again. I snapped at him. "That's two strikes, Craig. I'm sorry for your death, but if you end up driving my body into a crime scene or, god forbid, getting me killed next, I will kick your ass to whatever afterlife you're headed for and stay there to keep kicking it for eternity."

Big words for a short fat lady, but this is, in fact, my body on the line right now. I probably wouldn't be able to follow through on any ass-kicking, but dammit, I would try.

Craig was silent, and I could feel him steaming, petulant like a child denied a toy but with the power of a grown man behind it. With my stomach tying itself in knots and my hands starting to tremble, I dialed 911, hoping it would help quell the rising panic.

"258 South Pine Street. I think there's been a murder. I don't know the state of the crime scene or if the perp is still there, but you might be able to catch them if you hurry. The victim is Craig Davis, white adult male, either shot or stabbed in the chest, likely multiple times-"

"Wait, is this Tabby? The necro girl?"

Oh god I hope that isn't what the operators call me regularly-- I know I'm a bit of a 911 cryptid, since the usual intruder calls are to the non-emergency line, but if I get known as the necro girl I might have to move to a different state.

"Yeah, uh, necromancer, yeah-" I couldn't help but stumble over my words, now, with my train of thought derailed by the interruption. "-uh, murder?"

"Right! I'll send someone."

I murmured a thanks and hung up before she could ask me to stay on the line. I already had to stay around for the cops so Craig could give a statement, and making small talk with the 911 operator was not in the spoons tonight.

I don't like cops much, but in my line of work, they're kind of a necessity. I need to stay on the police force's good side because I need them to remove attempted murderers from my property on the regular. ...and also because graverobbing is still technically illegal, even if I do have the body owner's permission to dig them up.

At least most of the locals who know of me and my employees are chill about it. It took a bit of effort to get to that point, but now at least people don't run screaming from the less-presentable of my employees…

The blue lights of the police showed up fairly quickly, followed almost immediately by the red flashing of EMS. I puttered up slowly and parked my scooter just out of range as the officers set to work surrounding the house, then hung my helmet on a handlebar and walked up the rest of the way to watch the impending train wreck. I could feel Craig's anger boiling higher and tried my best to ignore it; Craig himself seemed to have fallen silent and sullen after I called him out.

"Tabby!"

I was standing just off to the side of the ambulance when someone stepped up behind me and called my name, making me jump and cringe.

"Oh- oh dear, I'm sorry, Tabs. I thought I heard you were the one who called this in!"

I straightened up immediately, face burning. I recognized that voice, bright and smooth and kind and--

"J-Jenna!" My voice was barely a squeak as I turned to face her, looking up at the round, dark face of one of the EMTs. She was a good six feet tall, maybe more, towering above me even in her uniform flats, with a brilliant smile and full lips and gorgeous natural hair pulled through the back of her uniform cap, the streetlight illuminating her from behind like a halogen angel.

Jenna had shown up to one of my early calls for assistance at No Regrets, and then she kept turning up, not every time I was in a situation where I'd be around EMTs, but often.

Concern showed on her face as she leaned to look me over.

"Are you okay? Did you see it happen, or-"

I shook my head, buying time to sort out words by tapping my temple with a finger.

"N-no, I uh- the victim woke me up, he's in here, uh, in case the cops need somethin' from him."

"Oh… are you getting enough sleep, dear? You sound exhausted. Do you want to sit in the back of the truck?"

It took me a second or two to recover from the way she called me dear, my face burning bright red. I couldn't make eye contact even for the second or two I can usually manage so that people don't immediately think I'm being dishonest.

"I- uh- um- w-well, it's, uh, it is like 4am--" I stammered, trying desperately to find words. "I-I guess 'm sleepin' okay, uh, how're… you doing??"

I have never been a great orator and the list of why that is gets a bit longer with every um and stutter.

Jenna's face bloomed into a gorgeous, open grin.

"I'm on 12-hour overnights right now, so I'm basically at least 60 percent Red Bull at any given time. Everyone okay up there at the House? Last I heard y'all were digging up half the lawn.”

I nodded, unable to keep from grinning. At least this was a subject I could talk to her about without making an absolute ass of myself--

"Yeah! The new girl, Chris, she's gotten Daryl and Roy to help her get the vegetable garden going! It's plenty big enough to take care of all of us, and I worked out a deal with the soup kitchen so that they get any of our excess, once things are running smoothly, and I can use their account to buy from that bulk food program that's usually only open to chari- oop-!" I bit my tongue and cringed. Right. I'm pretty sure that's technically fraud and I just admitted to it in front of-

There was a commotion from the house that snapped me back to attention, and the cops were leading a man out in handcuffs. He looked pale and shaken, spattered in blood, and not quite… present, like he had just checked out of reality for his own good. That… was a familiar look. I furrowed my brow. He certainly didn't look like a maniacal killer-

"He caught me with his wife," I said. Well. Craig said. I jumped. Jenna jumped. I flushed and covered my mouth reflexively.

"N-no that was him! The victim!" I squeaked. Jenna laughed, a hearty belly laugh, and covered her own mouth, though she was doing a terrible job of hiding her grin.

"I figured! If he caught you with his wife, it would be an upgrade!"

At this point, you could probably fry an egg on my face. Hell, my glasses were starting to fog up-- I stammered for a few moments, trying desperately to find something to say, and it was Craig who saved me, if you could call it that. I was too caught up in my embarrassment and awkwardness to realize how much anger and frustration he was radiating.

"Motherfucker told me he'd have my job! Son of a bitch thinks he can get away with doing this to me, he's gonna fucking pay--"

The oncoming storm crashed over me before I could get a grip on it, and all of a sudden I was lumbering forward, snarling words that weren't my own, and dragging a gardening pickaxe out of my truck -- Craig's truck -- on my way to the man and the cops--

I let out a shriek, in my own voice, feeling the sound cutting my throat raw. I wrested control of my body back with a lurch, falling on my ass in the yard with the force of it while the silvery-blue form of Craig was ejected from my body, screaming obscenities.

I threw my hand forward, fighting for whatever thoughts and words I could find to fix this. I saw Craig right himself and move back towards me, and the first incantation -- if you could call it that -- that my brain grasped left my lips in a single desperate breath, with a dizzying rush of power--

"INTHENAMEOFTHEMOONIBANISHYOU--!!"

The force of the hurried exorcism rushed outward like a sonic boom, strong enough for even the mundanes around me to feel, and Craig's spirit let out a yowl of rage for a brief second before twisting around itself and collapsing in with a sickening crunch, crushing smaller and smaller until it was gone.

I winced -- not my best exorcism. At all.

As the flare of adrenaline dropped almost immediately and I came back to myself properly, I realized -- blurrily, as my glasses had gotten thrown off somewhere -- at least two officers had their weapons half-drawn at me, though they were looking over at where Craig's spirit had disappeared.

I collapsed the rest of the way onto the grass, shaking, and covered my face with my hands, trying with everything within me not to start crying. I should have realized he'd try something like that, why hadn't I been paying attention- I could have been attacked, I could have been arrested, I could have had to watch myself beat a man to death and I- fuck--

The sob that came out was squeaky and pained, and I pressed my hands harder against my face, like that would stop anything else from going wrong. I should have brought someone-- I shouldn't have let him possess me-- I should have been paying more attention--

Warm tears ran from the corners of my eyes, down my cheeks, to pool in my ears, making my already-trembling body shiver harder with the unpleasant sensation. I'd let myself get complacent, hadn't lost control of a possession like that in years, and- I'd almost- fuck--

"Honey, honey, sit up for me. Tabby? C'mon, let's get you up--"

Numbly, I let Jenna help me into a sitting position, where she wrapped a blanket around me and pressed an open bottle of water into my hands.

"Take slow sips. Are you okay? Just shaken?"

I nodded, some part of me grateful that I couldn't quite see her face properly without my glasses, because I didn't want to see what she thought about me after that. She sighed, though, and sounded relieved when she murmured "Good."

My whole body felt like jelly, trembling so hard I could feel the water in the bottle sloshing around, and I kept flashing from too hot to too cold to too hot again, and I couldn't even sort out my thoughts--

Jenna sat down beside me and rubbed my back. If I wasn't having a complete breakdown, I might have enjoyed it.

I don't know how long it took for me to calm down and clear my head, but the car with the other man had left, and the other EMTs had loaded Craig's body into the ambulance while Jenna sat next to me and made sure I was doing okay.

After a while, though, I blinked and shifted my torso, then opened the blanket more and cursed at the bloom of red on my hoodie.

I heard Jenna curse as well as she stood up, but I grabbed her pants leg.

"N-no, 'm okay," I mumbled, and instead of trying to speak more, I reached to pull my hoodie and tank up my stomach to show bruised, but completely unbroken skin, covered in blood, rivulets following my stretch marks and making it look even worse despite my being otherwise completely uninjured. "See, 'm okay." This was not the first time I've had a possession lead to the dead's cause of death showing on my own body. It wasn't even the bloodiest.

Jenna sat back down, and I could see her leaning in a bit.

"Well damn. Magic ghost stuff, huh?"

I nodded.

"Magic ghost stuff."

I could see the flash of white against dark skin as she grinned.

"So that exorcism… Artemis or Usagi?"

It took me a moment to parse her.question, but all of a sudden I was completely back to myself, just in time to absolutely die of embarrassment.

"L-listen, I- y-you can exorcise i-in anyone's name, i-it's the power and conviction that counts--!!"

"Usagi, then." I could hear the laughter in her voice, laughter that bubbled out moments later. I wanted to crawl in a hole in embarrassment, but- it didn't feel like condescending laughter. I knew what that felt like. She seemed just genuinely amused. "I grew up with Sailor Moon, too."

I couldn't stop the squeak that eaked out, and I covered my face again.

"G-god I hope word about this doesn't get out, people already think I-I'm weird enough, and to- to fall back on anime for magic i-in a pinch is just--"

"Cute," Jenna finished.

I squeaked.

Jenna moved away for a moment, and then she settled my glasses on my nose. I couldn't make eye contact, but I did glance over at her and sheepishly murmur my thanks.

"The officers still want a statement from you, since you made the call and tried to go after the perp, but I don't think they're looking at any charges, given…" Jenna trailed off and looked over at where Craig had disappeared. "...yeah."

I nodded, slowly, and then found myself yawning, the adrenaline drop setting in especially hard.

"...d'you think it can wait 'til tomorrow… 've kinda had a rough night."

"I think they'll be okay with that."

[kckenobi]

Ooh you’re doing prompts! how about 3 and 6 for ani and obi, if you want :’)

3. “Hey, it’s me, it’s just me.” // 6. “Who gave you permission to fall asleep?”

“Ahsoka’s going to kill us.”

Obi-Wan’s voice came from below, where he was laying with his head propped up on Anakin’s balled-up cloak. Anakin himself was pacing the cave, but he stopped then.

“She’s going to kill you. I’m not the one who tried to be a hero and wound up with a concussion and Force knows what else.”

“Wasn’t trying to be a hero,” Obi-Wan murmured. “Just trying to help you.”

“And how did that work out?”

He was trying to keep it light, distract them both from the fact that the cave exit was two-hundred meters up and they were down here. Neither of them smiled.

“Well, in any case, you did take out the probe droid,” Anakin said, “even if you did plummet off a cliff. So I guess for that I’m grateful.” Obi-Wan hummed. “But on the flip side—“

“No one knows we’re here,” Obi-Wan said. “Not Separatists. But no one else, either.”

“No,” Anakin said softly. “No, they don’t.”

Not for the first time, Anakin pulled out his busted commlink and tried to reestablish a connection, pacing the cave floor beside Obi-Wan. Rex and Ahsoka and the others would know they were missing when they didn’t show up at the checkpoint in an hour. But a lot could happen during that time. Obi-Wan had hit his head hard enough to lose consciousness, before regaining it sputtering and coughing blood. If he was bleeding internally…if the bleeding was in his brain…

“Hey.” Anakin nudged Obi-Wan’s leg with his foot. “Eyes open. Don’t go to sleep on me, okay?”

Obi-Wan hummed. “Yes, Master.”

“Very funny. Come on, let’s talk or something. Keep you alert.”

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut suddenly, as if he were hurting more, before his face relaxed again. “‘m not feeling very chatty, I’m afraid.”

“Fine. Then I’ll talk.” Anakin stopped pacing and sat down beside him, leaning against the wall and pulling his knees to his chest. “Remember what you used to call me? As a Padawan?

Obi-Wan gave a soft chuckle. “Chatty-kin.”

“Yeah. I really was annoying, when I was little. Geez. I remember you used to pull out a book and start reading while I was going on about pod racing and that didn’t even deter me.”

“That was rude of me.”

“And well-deserved. You never did get to read much when I was a kid. Too busy putting out my metaphorical fires. And some literal ones.”

He launched into a story about how once, Anakin had set fire to the dishwashers in the Temple refractory and he and Obi-Wan had both gotten a talking to from Master Windu—but then Obi-Wan’s eyes were closed again, and Anakin’s voice trailed off.

“Hey,” he said. “Who gave you permission to fall asleep?”

Obi-Wan didn’t answer, and Anakin felt a surge of panic.

“Obi-Wan—“

He set a hand down on his shoulder, and Obi-Wan jolted upright, eyes wild.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s just me,” Anakin said, rubbing his thumb over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “You’re okay.”

“Don’t feel okay.”

“Well, you are,” Anakin said. “Or you will be. Ahsoka’s going to come.”

“Hmm.”

“She will. But until then, you have to stay awake, okay?

Obi-Wan took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes again. “I’ll try.”

“Hey, now. What does Master Yoda always say?”

Obi-Wan slowly shook his head. “Can’t remember.”

“Yeah, you do. Do or do not…”

Obi-Wan groaned softly, but he finished the phrase. “There is no try.”

“Exactly. Meaning you’re going to stay awake with me.” Anakin exhaled hard, looking over Obi-Wan’s battered frame. “What hurts most?”

“Everything,” he said, then groaned. “My head.”

“Figured. Does this make it better or worse?”

He gently took Obi-Wan by the shoulders and helped him move backward, until his head rested on Anakin’s legs instead of the thin fabric of the cloak.

Obi-Wan’s face grew tight with the movement, then softened. “Better.”

“Good. Cause we might be in this for the long haul,” Anakin said. “Now, tell me, do you remember the time when I was fifteen, and you tried to sneak out for a date with a certain politician—“

Anakin settled in to keep talking, and Obi-Wan quietly laughed, and both wondered if this was how they’d spend his last moments.

—

“Down here!”

Ahsoka beckoned Rex and the others to follow her, leaping down from the precipice into the cave below. And there, she saw them—two figures in the darkness. One laying down. Looking bad.

“Master!”

One of the figures looked up. “Ahsoka—“

“He’s hurt. I can see that. Is he—“

“Alive,” Anakin said, softly, though his voice echoed off the walls. “He’s alive. For now.”

Ahsoka crouched beside her grandmaster, running her fingers through his hair. He wasn’t conscious.

“Then let’s make sure we keep it that way.”

Gently, they worked together to lift him and started for the exit. Ahsoka exhaled. She’d found her masters in trouble many times, and didn’t think she’d ever get used to it. She hoped she didn’t. She was tired of people she loved being hurt, or ill, or dead.

But this time, at least she had the power to help them. For now.

They exited the cave, leaving the rubble and pain behind them.

For now.

from these whump prompts

[ragingpancake]

I Got You

A/N: I watched Echoes the other night and frankly, I just needed to write this. Sort of an unofficial sequel to The Road to Nowhere Leads to Me.

They’re almost back to Atlantis from the mainland when Rodney realizes that maybe something’s a bit off with Sheppard – er… John (and he has to remind himself to start calling Shep—John by his first name because this whole… thing between this is still relatively new and it’s probably not social acceptable for one to refer to one’s boyfriend by last name only). No one would ever really call him chatty, but this level of quietness is almost unsettling, especially when Rodney tries to goad him into some gentle bantering and he’s just not having it. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks finally as the city is just coming into view. “Huh?” Rodney squints, mouth turning down in a frown. “I certainly didn’t stutter, Colonel.” Maybe that’ll get his attention.

He waits a moment, and then two. Nope. Nada. The lights are on but nobody’s home. “… John.”

At that, John lifts a hand and presses the heel of it against one of his eyes, wincing and Rodney notices for the first time how not well the other actually looks. “I’ve just… got this killer headache that won’t go away,” he says and it actually sounds pained in a way that Rodney isn’t quite used to from him. He watches as John squints at the city in the distance. “Maybe I should take over?” For a split second, he thinks John might be considering it before he shakes his head. “Nah, s’alright. I know how much you struggle to fly in a straight line.” There’s the smallest hint of teasing in his voice but Rodney doesn’t rise to the challenge because it’s such a weak attempt on John’s part that he knows he’d absolutely assassinate John with a comeback and where’s the fun in that? “Are you sure? Because, because I’ve been in one of these things when it’s crashed into the water, if you remember correctly, and I really have no intention of repeating that, so if you aren’t feeling well, I’d rather just--.” “Rodney,” John says and now, there’s a trace of a bite to his tone. Wow. Hostile. “Okay, I’m just saying--.” “I know,” John says. “But it’s fine. I’ve got it.” Rodney resigns himself to believing that for about a split second until he glances over again and notices the blood dripping from John’s nose. “John--.” “Dammit, Rodney! I said I’m--.” And whatever lie John was about to tell dies on his lips as he slumps over, head smacking the console. Immediately, Rodney leaps into action, grabbing John before he slips out of the pilot’s chair to ease him down onto the floor, his head lulling to the side sickeningly. “Jumper 1, this is Atlantis, come in. Your course has drastically shifted.” Radek’s voice comes through the comm system in the jumper and Rodney suddenly realizes that no one is, you know, actually piloting. “I need a medical team to the Jumper Bay. Sheppard is down, I repeat, Sheppard is down.” He scrambles into the pilot’s chair and manages to jerk it upwards approximately three point five seconds before the jumper crashes into the ocean. “Rodney?” It’s Elizabeth’s voice now, and she sounds about as worried as Rodney feels. “Carson’s here. What happened?” “Can’t talk now! Trying to fly and not, you know, crash and send us both to our deaths in the horrifically vast ocean. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” “Rodney!” “Just have them standing by!” He cuts off the comm system and glances down at John who has not yet regained consciousness. “Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.” It becomes his mantra as he somehow manages to navigate the jumper back to the city and into the bay. He barely has time to lower the door before a med team is swarming in and before Rodney has a chance to so much as breathe, they’re gone, John with them. There’s a small bit of blood on the floor from where John was laying and Rodney has to work very hard not to throw up. ---- It’s dark in the hallway, save for the faint blue glow emanating from the center of the wall closest to him. He reaches out, hand pressing against it and he can feel the thrum of hurt intensifying, adding to what’s already there in his head. He staggers at the force of it, drops to his knees and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to stave off the pounding of his head. But this isn’t his hurt, he realizes after a moment. It’s hers, and that thought alone is enough to force him back to his feet, hand reaching out to touch that blue light again. This time, he feels an almost burning heat fanning out from the center of his hand as the blue expands and he watches as it begins to creep across the wall, almost as if it’s beckoning him to follow. He’s never been good at following orders and he has the record to prove it, but he finds his feet moving, seemingly of their own accord, allowing the glow to lead him down the darkened hallway for what seems like forever until it stops, finally, at a room he doesn’t quite recognize. “Why am I here?” Because I need your help, she answers

back, the words cool and gentle within his mind. Find me, John Sheppard. Before it’s too late. “Before what’s too late? What are you trying to tell me?” But she’s already receding from his mind and all he’s left with is a light so bright that penetrates the darkness as John opens his eyes. --- Rodney’s there when John finally comes to under the bright lights of the infirmary. “Oh thank God,” he says as he slumps back into the chair, running a hand across his forehead. “Far be it from me to say I told you so, but--.” He doesn’t get a chance to finish before John is sitting up so quickly that it makes Rodney a bit dizzy, kicking the blankets off of his legs. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He stands up, pressing a hand to John’s shoulder to ease him back down onto the mattress and Ronon is on the other side of the bed, doing the same. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” The Satedan asks in his natural rumble. “I have to help her,” John says and Rodney suddenly finds himself a bit miffed at that. “Help who?” He asks and if he sounds a little pissy, he thinks he’s probably allowed because you know, he’s the one been sitting at John’s bedside for the last several hours, worried very much about the possibility of brain damage and now that he’s awake, the first thing he mentions is some second rate harlot and--. “The city,” he rasps and he grabs Ronon’s wrist, trying to force it off of him. “Something’s wrong with the city.” “What? The city is fine,” Rodney says, but he’s reaching for his tablet anyway, pulling up the city schematics to scan over quickly, searching for any indication that something was not right. “See?” He says, and he turns the tablet to face John so he can see for himself. “The back up teams cleaned everything up nicely, there’s absolutely nothing that would indicate--.” “Rodney,” he says and there’s an almost wild look in his eyes as he glances up at the scientist, seemingly pleading with him to just listen. “They missed something. There’s something wrong, we have to--.” “Aye,” Carson greets, a smile on his face. “There ya are. Ya had us quite worried there for a bit. I’d still like to run a few scans--.” Rodney tunes him out as he searches John’s face and he supposes that there is a possibility that something was missed. It’s a huge city, many parts that they’ve yet to explore and the Wraith attack had been devastating. He rationalizes that this could also possibly be attributed to some sort of brain injury, what with the bleeding and the passing out and everything but something in John’s eyes gives him pause. Whatever’s brought him to this conclusion, John seems to truly believe that there’s something wrong with their city, with their home and while Rodney isn’t apt to act without actual evidenced based data, he finds that he can’t quite let this go without investigating. “Stop,” he says, holding up a hand to Carson. “We need to go.” “Go? What are ye on about?” Carson asks, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “We still don’ know what caused the bleedin’ an’--.” “Something’s wrong with the city,” Rodney says, echoing John’s previous statement. “We have to go.” Ronon glances at Rodney from across John’s bed and when Rodney gives a barely there nod, Ronon crowds Carson, gently ushering him away. “Sorry, doc.” “Oh, ye can’t be serious! Rodney!” “Can you stand?” Rodney asks John, and he reaches for him, carefully like he’s not sure where it’s okay to touch, especially in public, but John’s hand grabs his wrists and he squeezes gently. “Thank you.” “If you really want to thank me,” Rodney says dryly, “you can do so by not passing out on me again during what is sure to be a long trip around the city. “I’ll do my best,” John answers solemnly and Rodney supposes that’s as good as it gets. --- It’s dark outside, the Lantean sun having set several hours ago. They’ve split up into groups, Ronon and Teyla, Lorne and McMasters, John and Rodney. They’ve had absolutely no luck in finding anything of consequence and Rodney is trying very hard not to lose his temper because he’s

tried to show John on the tablet several times now that everything still shows all is well, but John is insistent. Desperate even, only growing moreso the farther away they get from the heart of the city. “Teyla, Ronon, this is McKay. Anything?” “No, Rodney,” Teyla answers back almost immediately. “It seems as though everything is still working as it should over this way.” “Lorne?” “All good here, doc. I’m gonna suggest we call it, at least for the night. Some of these labs haven’t properly been cleared yet, I’d like to--.” “No,” John says and when Rodney glances over to give him an exasperated glare, he realizes that John’s nose is bleeding again. “John, what are you--!” “This is the hallway,” he tells Rodney, reaching up to wipe the blood away, smearing it to his cheek. “This is… she needs us…” He reaches out and touches the wall and Rodney watches as it pulsates under his hand, a blue glow flickering to life. He’s always known that Atlantis liked John better than she liked anyone else, has seen it in the way rooms light up for him, the effortless way in which John activates all her tech, but this… this is something else. She’s actually communicatingwith him, he knows it. “Three levels above the east pier,” Rodney says into his comm. “Teyla—” “We are already on our way,” and over the radio, Rodney can hear the heavy footfalls of their feet against the floor. Rodney doesn’t realize that John has walked away, not at first, until he turns to see the glow halfway down the hall, barely illuminating John’s figure as it guides him further into the darkness. Rodney follows, and suddenly, John stops outside of a door. “Is this it?” Rodney asks, but he already knows the answer to the question. He slides his hand over the crystal, but the door doesn’t budge, not that Rodney expected it to. “Okay,” he says, and his voice is gentle now, perhaps more gentle than it’s ever been, but there’s something about the pinched look on John’s face that honestly, truly worries him. It reminds him of how he looked on the jumper, right before he, you know, passed out. He checks his tablet, but he knows it’s a moot point because the city is off-line down here, which is why they never knew there was a problem. The sensors just don’t reach this far, but he thinks he should be able to still get the door open. “John,” Rodney says, and there’s no response. “John.” But John seems not to hear him as he reaches for the door, fingers gripping the edge as he tries, desperately, to pull it open. “Oh, oh. Yes.” Rodney puts the tablet down carefully and he moves to the other side, glancing at John to follow his lead and as John pulls again, the noise that escapes him sends a shiver down Rodney’s spine. He screams as the door finally slides open and now, Rodney notices the blood trickling out of John’s ear, just in time to grab John as he crumples, guiding him to the floor. “Rodney!” Teyla’s voice echoes down the hallway, and Rodney calls back, voice nearing on hystericalas he situates himself below John to pillow his head on his lap. “Here! We’re here!” Ronon comes into view first, gun aimed, followed quickly by Teyla. “We heard screaming, what—John?” “It’s Atlantis!” Rodney says, “She’s using John to communicate, there’s something--.” Ronon needs to hear no more as he slips through the opened door and a second later, there’s the sound of laser fire. Rodney’s petting over John gently, shaking him gently, pleading with him to wake up but it’s to no avail. Teyla has disappeared inside of the room that John brought them to and Rodney risks a fraction of a moment to lean down, letting his lips brush against John’s forehead. “Please, please, please wake up.” John resolutely does not. --- “Did we do it?” He’s somewhere quiet and he’s alone, but he can feel her around him, leaving him warm and comforted, reminding him very much of being wrapped up in his mother’s embrace when he was seven and had the flu. He remembers that because before coming to Atlantis, it was the last time he felt well and

truly loved because she’d died less than three weeks later. You did, and he closes his eyes, letting her warmth wash over him. The pain is gone, both his and hers, he realizes and there’s a feeling of contriteness that settles inside of him, like she’s saying she’s sorry and he guesses she means for basically hijacking his mind. But, as unsettling as it should be, he finds that he’s always known she was there, really. The gentle thrumming, the quiet humming of her power he feels tucked away somewhere in the back of his mind. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, he knows. It’s not just his found family that cares for him, not just Rodney… but her too. There will be no lasting damage, she promises him and the warmth begins to recede, just a bit. To either you or me. But please tell Doctor McKay not to be too angry with me. The darkness is fading now with her and he’s not really sure why she thinks Rodney would be upset with her. He tries to ask, but the feeling of a gentle hand in his hair, a quiet murmuring of voices, breaks through and John closes his eyes, letting it guide him out of the dark. Thank you once again, John Sheppard. You saved us all. --- “—still don’t understand how we didn’t know it was here,” Elizabeth says and Rodney has to fight not to roll his eyes because they’ve been over this, he’s explained it ad nauseum. “The life signs detector is tied in directly with the city’s power grid,” he says exasperatedly and he thinks about reaching for his tablet as a nice visual aide but somewhere along the way, his hand had settled into John’s hair and it’s so soft that he kind of doesn’t want to pull it away. He doesn’t know if it brings John any comfort, but it brings him some, feeling the warmth of the other under his hand and damn if he’ll let anyone take that away from him. Even at the sake of his own sanity for having to go through this again. “That part of the city still doesn’t get any power. No power means it can’t communicate with us. We never would’ve known.” “… never would’ve known what?” The raspy voice from the bed asks and Rodney very nearly topples out of his chair as he yanks his hand back, gaping down at John, and “oh, thank god!” “Wraith,” Ronon says by way of explanation, like it’s the most natural thing in the world and Rodney supposes maybe it is. After all, at least for right now, it’s the Wraith that’s proved to be their biggest pain in the ass. “Technically, a Wraith transmitter,” Rodney corrects and he can’t quite tear his eyes away. “The Wraith was.. well, indisposed, as it was. How are you feeling?” “What d’y’mean ‘indisposed’?” “It blew itself up when it realized that the room was heavily shielded and that the beacon couldn’t get through,” Ronon says and Rodney glares at him, because he’sthe one who likes to do all the explaining, thank you very much. “Blew a hole in the wall almost the size of a jumper.” “Yes, well,” Rodney says, steering the conversation back, “somehow, there was some sort of a fail safe built into the city’s infrastructure. There was a kind of a force field where the wall used to be, not unlike that of the cells, but with no power, it wouldn’t have held much longer. When it failed, that thing would’ve sent our coordinates to every Wraith hive ship in the galaxy and well, the ruse would’ve been up. But enough about that, how are you feeling?” “Kinda like I got hit by a truck,” John says and he shifts on the bed to sit up a bit more. “The transmitter’s been taken care of?” “Blasted into almost as many pieces as the Wraith,” Ronon says proudly and Teyla squeezes his arm gently. “We are very glad that you are awake, John,” she says diplomatically, “but perhaps it would be best if we let you rest?” “Whaddya mean? That’s all he’s been doing,” Ronon scoffs, but Teyla tugs at his arm anyway, bless her. “Come,” she says. “Elizabeth, perhaps I could help you in your office, go over the schedule for the teams set to search the rest of the city?” And whatever look she shares with Elizabeth has her nodding, turning to give them both a

smile. “Of course, thank you Teyla,” she says and she reaches out for John, squeezing his arm gently. “Good to have you back with us, John.” John lifts a hand in response as everyone filters out, leaving him and Rodney alone. “You’re an idiot,” Rodney says, just because it’s expected of him, has become part of their standard routine whenever John lands himself in the infirmary. “For what?” “Oh, I don’t know, for letting a sentient city scramble your brains.” “She said she’s sorry, you know,” John says and Rodney rolls his eyes. “Of course she did. And when did we decide that she was a sheafter all? I suppose it makes sense, what with the way women across twogalaxies fawn over you, the famous Colonel Kirk.” “It’s okay to be jealous, Rodney.” “Excuse me? I am not jealous! I just think it’s a little funny that--.” “She even said she hopes you’re not too mad at her,” John interrupts. “What? Why would she care about that?” “I dunno,” he shrugs and he lays back against the pillow, closing his eyes. “Guess she knows how important you are to me. Probably wouldn’t wanna get in your bad graces…” He still can’t get used to this, this… thing. Where they care about each other, but have finally matured enough emotionally to say it out loud. “Yes well,” Rodney sniffs, and settles his hand back against John’s hair, “I’ll forgive her this time. But you tell that harlot--!” “Rodney,” John groans, “she said she’s sorry.” “Alright, alright,” he says and he leans forward, maybe a bit hesitantly, before he presses his lips against John’s. “I’m just… glad you’re okay.” “Yeah,” John agrees. “Me too, buddy. Now how about less talking and more hair petting?” Frankly, there’s nowhere else Rodney would rather be. “Go back to sleep, dummy.” “With pleasure.”

[five-rivers]

Now i would like to see prompts of a curious benevolent eldritch being coming to visit Amity Park and coo at the baby eldritch (Danny) and tech him how to access his eldritch powers.

I know this is probably supposed to be about some more traditional and tentacle-y eldritch abomination, but this is essentially what I’m writing Grandfather Clocks as (not to mention assorted other oneshots and everything happening in Mortified).  I’m too invested in Lost Time to clearly imagine anyone but Clockwork in the Adult Eldritch Abomination role...  at least from a more general prompt like this one.  

... on the other hand I now have Vague Ideas (tm) about a full AU where Danny has eldritch abomination powers instead of ghost powers and all the eldritch abominations he’s ‘fighting’ are just coming to play with the baby.

WARNING this is for real written as horror, since it’s from Danny’s perspective.

.

Time seemed to congeal as the shadow in Danny’s soul stretched backwards.  This one had a name.  It skittered between the dark and the part of Danny’s mind that still resembled a human’s.  He breathed in, slowly, then out, tasting it on his tongue.  Once, it had been two.  

Finally, it coalesced into something he could actually speak.  “Skultech,” he said.  

“Relative of Skulker?” asked Tucker.  “Or Technus?”  He didn’t look at them or at Danny.  He had protections, but they weren’t perfect, and he’d already taken a step away from the light.  

“Yes,” said Danny, internally translating the vibrations of air into something with meaning and weight.  

Skulker.  The hunter, fleshless and tireless.  A pursuer of the mind more than the body.  Almost sporting in his own way.  The library with all its labyrinthine but immaterial paths was the best place to lose him.  

Technus.  A horror that lurked in the depths of the internet, luring in deep-web users and more than a few unluckly click-bait and phishing victims.  Technus didn’t kill them, did very little to them, really, but there was a reason there wasn’t a computer club at Casper High anymore.  

They had been two.  Now they were one.  Part of Danny was fascinated.  Another was thrilled, happy, as it always was when these dark things manifested themselves in Amity Park.  

His shadow stretched, whispering over his features.  He could feel curl over the texture of the ground beneath him, grasping at grass and bark and soil as if it were possessed of a thousand thousand tiny fingers.  It wanted to open up and play.

(’It,’ Danny said, as if it weren’t him, an extension of himself.)

“What do we do?” asked Sam.  She, unlike Tucker, looked directly at him, even half-shrouded in shadow as he was.  She always did, even if she averted her gaze from the likes of Skulker and Technus.  

Near the beginning, Sam had made the connection between the others, especially ones like Ember, who were as beautiful as the were dark, and cults.  She had started a joke about making one for Danny.  Over time, it had become less of a joke.  

Danny tried to ignore the pleasant buzz of his skin as he imagined a cult attempting to do something as sweet as bind him to their will.  

Because, really, he shouldn’t be thinking of something like that as ‘sweet’ at all.  

“It’s still Skulker and Technus,” said Danny, even if he had never seen them like this.  “I think... the same type of thing should probably work.  I distract, Sam gets people out of the way, Tuck, you get the computers at the library ready and tell me when to lead them there?”

“Do you think it’ll really work when it’s both of them?” mumbled Tucker.  “I don’t know if I can even do both of the things at once...”

“The alternative is not doing anything,” said Sam, “and considering that they seem to be after Danny...”

Tucker made a face, the glow from his PDA reflecting from his glasses.  “Yeah, I know,” he said.  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t try.”

“Remember,” said Danny, “don’t give me the go-ahead until you and everyone else is out.”

“Yeah, I remember, I remember,” he said.

“Go do your thing,” said Sam.  

Danny nodded and left the shelter of their hiding place.  He did not stand up, or walk, or move.  He simply stopped being there and started being in front of Skultech.  

From a distance, he probably still looked human.  

They fought.  

It was hard to describe how they fought, exactly, in human terms, but they did.  Right up until one of Skultech’s three-fingered hands wrapped around Danny’s ankle and his shadow vanished.

He, breathing hard and falling, remembered what it was to be human.  To be vulnerable.  His shadow came back to him, flickering.  He came back to himself.  

There was a darkness that was himself, and he was so relieved.  Why?  How often had he wanted this gone?  But he was whole, and like that he was half, and-

He’d gotten distracted.  

Skultech had surrounded him, a hunting ground strobed with lightning.  This kind of fight was an oddity to both Skulker and Technus, this kind of movement, this kind of strategy.  Danny began to doubt that his earlier plan would work.  

What was a library but another kind of forest?

With only enough warning for his self to wrap around him protectively, Skultech yanked him down into the Dream.  The pale seaweed threads of human consciousness gave way to the dark and the other.  He fell to the floor of a midnight palace and rolled to his back, coughing up not-water from the idea of his lungs.

Here, said Skultech, in something that wasn’t quite language.  The True Voice.  Danny had seen people fall to their knees when the others used that.  Had seen sane men turn into blind faith worshippers.  Had heard lies that became true in the speaking, or near enough that it didn’t matter.  

He had never quite managed to speak that way himself, no matter Sam’s cajoling.  

Danny managed to open his eyes.  He did not come to the Dream often, no matter how much it called to him.  Both his halves agreed, here, where every place was also a person, it was dangerous even in the shallows.  

The ceiling was covered in layers upon layers of spiderwebs, and he did not like what that meant.  Skultech was nowhere to be seen.  

He pulled himself up and got to his feet.  

The floor beneath him was glass.  Beneath that was clockwork, but the gears were galaxies and solar systems, the springs were entropy and enthalpy, and the chains were the laws of physics themselves.  Clockwork.  It was...  It would do, as a name.  

The distant sense of amusement was disturbing.  

Danny looked around.  He needed a way out, a way back up, to where he could leave the Dream.  

Why did Skultech bring him here?

Spiderwebs and gears.  Symbols of control, of interconnectedness, of carefully laid plans.  Was he stuck in a web he couldn’t see?

He spun, slowly, trying to see if he could see any doors or other openings.  Something flashing, moving, in the distance caught his eye.  His first instinct was to move away, but...

But it was like he was being drawn in.  Like he couldn’t turn away.  It was a mirror.  A window.  

It showed him himself.  At first, a hundred paces away, just himself, as he was, but then at pace ninety-nine it changed.  Mirrors did that, in the Dream.  Everything did that, in the dream.  

Time sped up.  The mirror reflected not just light, but sound and feeling.  He could see himself, his shadow, and-

He felt it when all the little Loves that kept him tethered to his humanity snapped, the lives they were anchored to burning up as they met their deaths.  He screamed and heard it echoed back to him a thousand times over.  

He could not stop walking.  He could not stop watching.  Ninety steps away.  

His shadow in the mirror was wild.  Unbound and grieving.  Flesh and blood and bone existed, but his two part mind was unbalanced and divided from itself.  He sought aid from the only other like himself and received a knife, received Hate to replace love and at seventy-five steps he watched as what he had once been embraced Vlad and devoured him whole, eating and becoming everything that made him him.  

The shadow unfurled, hungry and seeking.  The memory Love it once had and the Love it had desired for so long driving it onward and outward, the center pulsing like a diseased star.  Seventy steps.  It had eyes like constellations.  

The mirror showed the Dream, now.  Veins of sickness wound through the garden of human thought, through the tangled vines and twisted paths.  What it found did not satisfy, and it sought more, and more, delving deeper.  Sixty steps, then fifty.  

It ate at the best of people, of others.  The singers fell silent.  The doctors could no longer heal.  The kind became cruel.  

Darkness fell.  Then war.  The shadow ruled all from its misery.  

It was not enough.  

Forty steps.  It’s eyes met Danny’s.  It knew he was here, knew he was watching.  It began to speak in its True Voice, and Danny could not cover his ears to keep it out.  

It spoke of the things it had done, of the things it would do.  Danny watched as it carried out its plans, and even more.  It spoke of how it, he, was Danny, and all this destruction, all this suffering was wrought by his own hands.  It spoke of Love Danny did not cherish sufficiently, of fragility, of how it was determined to Be rather than Be Not even though its every moment was loneliness and Hatred to the point of agony.  

Danny’s ears were bleeding.

Thirty steps.

It spoke of how it would hurt Danny, in particular.  How it would rend his shadow, wound so there was no hope for him to escape his fate, even with foreknowledge of it.  It spoke of how, with Danny watching, the mirror was a window, was a door it could reach through and Danny saw it reaching.  

Saw it reaching out and in and towards now and those that he Loved, those that he cherished and Danny would have pushed himself to run but he couldn’t stop walking.

Twenty steps.  It could make itself look like Danny, and even though it was wrong, Danny was wrong too, he was so, so, so, wrong and his wrongness was going to get them killed.  It was going to get everyone killed.  

They were looking at it, not him, speaking with it, not him.  His darkness was covered.  With it, these things were like staring at the sun.

It tore away the protections he had so painstakingly layered over those he Loved.  

Ten steps.

He saw his parents with a bomb made by their own hands, one that would devastate the Dream for miles around, killing anything that dared to imagine, the culmination of their work.  Nine steps.  He saw Mr. Lancer writing lesson plans with his own blood, each sentence less English than the last.  Eight steps.  He saw Sam with the ritual knife, her smile full of blood and sacrifice.  Seven steps.  He saw Tucker clawing out his eyes, surrounded by computer screens flaring with symbols humans were never meant to use.  Six steps.  He saw Jazz-

He saw Jazz notice.  

Five steps.

He could have wept.  

She armed herself with stories and legends and saltwater and truths that made Danny seize and the fact that this thing was not her brother.  Four steps.  

He watched her confront it.  

Three steps.   

He watched it toy with her, her machinations only delaying her doom.  

Two steps.

He watched it k-

One step.  

No!

For the first time, he screamed in his True Voice.  His fist snapped out, striking the mirror dead center.  It shattered.  

Was that enough?  Was he in time?  He- He couldn’t feel them.  He couldn’t-  They couldn’t be dead.  They couldn’t be gone.  

He dropped to his knees.  The shards of the mirror glittered up at him, calling him.  His hand shook as he reached out and picked one up.  Slowly, he raised it to his lips.  He opened his lips and as soon as the shard was even with his teeth, he bit down, the glass crunching like thunder.  

Already, he was reaching for another piece.  He swallowed.  His hands went out, nails scrabbling along the floor in his hurry.  Mirror shard after mirror shard was shoved into his mouth and choked down.  

There was something around his neck.  With one of his many hands he reached up, feeling up his chest to throat.  There was a collar there.  It felt like control, like ownership, like Love.  

Something liquid dripped from his eye.  

Even as he gagged on glass, two of his hands, his human hands, explored the circumference of the metal piece.  There were delicate fractal patterns on the surface that had double on the interior.  As his fingers pressed down on them, they in turn pressed on the skin of his neck, sending pleasant curls of thought down his limbs.  

His questing fingers found the collar’s lead.  It was at the same time, like the spider silk above and the clockwork chains below.  Flexible.  Strong.  Indelible.  It was as inevitable as gravity that he should Be Loved and Love in return.  

He licked the last powdery pieces of mirror off his fingers and his extra arms slowly evaporated back into the Dream as if they never were.  

Who would Love him like this?  Love him to the point that it manifested in the Dream like this?  The answer was all around him, was inside him, as his heart echoed back the Love as best it was able, but he could hardly believe it.  

The sound of footsteps on the hard floor jolted him out of his reverie.  He looked up and met the red eyes of Clockwork’s avatar.  

It had the appearance of a blue-skinned man wearing a cloak and festooned with symbols of time.  A few long white hairs peeked from beneath its hood, and a painful-looking scar laid over its eye.  

For a moment, Danny was stunned, because this was a true avatar, an extension of Clockwork himself, not a human hollowed out for use as a vessel.  For someone as powerful as Clockwork had to be to be so vast in the Dream to bestow such attention on Danny-

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that rolled off his tongue was blood.  Shame crept up his cheeks.  He didn’t know if it was his use of his True Voice when destroying the mirror, or consuming all those shards afterwards, but his normal voice was gone.

Shh, soothed Clockwork’s avatar, gloved hands cupping Danny’s cheeks and forcing his lips closed.  You need not speak, child.  Those who love you will know your intent.

Danny nodded slowly, beginning to feel dazed.  He remembered the scenes in the mirror.  Remembered what the shadow-him had done.  His fingers bent around the lead- it was almost as thick as his wrist- and looked up at Clockwork’s avatar.  

Clockwork could strike him down, now, could destroy him so completely that even the merest memory of him was gone, and he would not care, because he would know it was done out of Love.  

The lead shivered against his palms and grew.  

No need, said Clockwork’s avatar.  You have devoured your destiny and become free of it.  

That sounded reasonable.  The avatar brushed a thumb across Danny’s lips and smiled.  

You have given yourself fangs.

Danny blushed again.  He hadn’t meant to.  

The avatar released Danny’s cheeks to reach for his hands, arranging them in Danny’s lap and rubbing circles into his palms.  Then the avatar gently brought Danny’s attention to the door in its chest.  

The door was glass.  Beyond the glass laid an approximation of a heart made of the same elements as what laid beneath the floor.  A metaphor for Clockwork’s heart, Danny guessed, though what laid in the avatar’s chest couldn’t be anywhere near as grand as the real thing.  

The avatar nodded, and then leveled a gloved finger at Danny’s own chest.  He looked down.  

There was a door, there, too.  

His breath caught in his throat and he tried to scramble away, some still-human part of him objecting strenuously to whatever was going to happen.  

All at once, the whole of Clockwork’s attention turned in on him, and for an infinite moment of time he was held in a perfect embrace.  His thought from earlier returned.  Anything, and he would not object, because it was done out of Love.  

His edges, usually so sharply defined, even in the Dream, went fuzzy, almost blending with his surroundings, those surroundings being Clockwork.  

The avatar reached for Danny’s door and opened it.  It hurt, but not as much as he thought it would.  Within, laid his heart. 

The surface, the shape, of it looked human enough.  The veins and arteries were all in the right places.  The atria and chambers all looked to be the proper sizes.  It beat an even rhythm.  

But inside it was as black as night and something like a star twinkled in its depth.  

It was... odd, how closely it resembled Clockwork’s galaxies while being at the same time so different.  

Clockwork’s avatar opened the door to its own chest, pinning it to his cloak, then he reached into Danny’s chest.  

There was the pain he had been expecting, radiating from his core to the very tips of his fingers and toes.  If he were not held immobile by the sheer force of Clockwork’s regard, he would have arched backwards and screamed.

Methodically, the avatar cut and tied off every one of arteries, veins, and nerves that led from the rest of Danny’s body to his heart.  Finally, the heart excised and cradled in its hands, it drew back.  

Danny should be dead.  The Dream did not follow the same rules as the reality he had been born into, but his mind would not let go of the fact that he had no heart.  He should be dead.  

The avatar inserted Danny’s heart into its chest, next to its own, and closed its door.  Slowly, the image of Danny’s heart faded into metaphor as it sunk down into the deeps to nestle next to Clockwork’s true heart.  

Danny understood, then, that from this moment on, Clockwork would decide the direction of his heart, would determine who he Loved and who he Hated.  If he should Love or Hate.  Danny rather doubted Clockwork would let Danny do anything so damaging as Hate.  

I shall keep it safe for you, said the avatar, something more profound behind its words that might have been Clockwork himself, until you are old enough to protect it on your own.

Danny understood, too, that although this promise was not a lie, he would never be old enough to reclaim his heart, no matter how much time passed or how powerful he grew.  Clockwork’s Love and protection would keep both him and it safe, young, fragile.  How could it do otherwise, when time itself would flow around him?  When Love would keep him anchored to one form?

Clockwork’s attention relaxed, then, and Danny could move again, curling around the gaping hole in his chest.  The avatar ruffled his hair and, with his other hand, held something out to Danny.  

Six paired sets of life and death glimmered against the lavender of the avatar’s glove.  Danny recognized them.  They belonged to the people he Loved.  He had not realized he Loved Mr. Lancer, but he could see now that it was true.  

Moving slowly, as if underwater, Danny held his cupped hands beneath the avatar’s.  His breath caught as the avatar tipped the lives and deaths into his hands.  

So precious.  He brought them down to his lap and, with painstaking care, began to peal the deaths away from the lives.  Each death he ate, consuming it and breaking it down into nothing.  Each life he placed in the hollow that had once housed his heart.  

Like this, they would not die, they would not leave him.  They would be with him, always, just as he would always Love them.  

Exhaustion hit him all at once, and he slumped forward to rest his head on the Avatar’s shoulder.  It laughed, lightly, and helped him close the door in his chest.  Then, it took a heart-shaped padlock from within its cloak and threaded it into the latch of Danny’s door.  The click as the padlock closed echoed off the floor and distant walls.  

With a kind of detached curiosity, Danny watched as the edges of the door, latch, padlock and all, melded into his skin and vanished as if they had never been there at all.  He knew that he would not be able to find the door again without help, and that, even then, to open the door he would need the padlock’s key.  A key he had not yet seen.

But what reason did he have to open his chest?  Others might have cause, those who wanted to hurt him, or those that he Loved.  This was another protection, another way to keep him safe.  

This time you devoured your destiny, said the avatar, petting him.  The sick futures have been cut away.  Next, we shall remove the presents where you Are Not.  After that...  The sentence trailed away in a buzz that made Danny’s thoughts go quiet.  

The avatar began to do something that could only be described as singing even though neither voice nor sound were involved.  It was a lullaby, and Danny felt himself become even heavier and softer than before.  He curled into the avatar’s side, feeling small.  The pain of his missing heart eased itself into something more bearable.  The threads of love that kept him from becoming a monster wound tighter around his limbs and sewed themselves deeper into his skin.  

His eyes drifted closed.  

When he woke, he was in his bed, in Fentonworks.  He blinked several times at his ceiling, and leapt to his feet only to be waylaid by dizziness and static across his eyes.  He brought a hand up to his neck, half expecting to feel metal.  

He didn’t.  

He shifted, pressing two fingers against an artery.  No pulse.  He switched his grip to his wrist.  Nothing.  

Right.  No heart.  

No heart but six lives and-

He stumbled out of his room and started banging wildly on her door.  Jazz threw it open and froze.  

“It’s really you?” she asked, voice quivering.  

Danny opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out.  It didn’t seem like Jazz really needed a verbal response, because she threw herself at him, enveloping him in a hug.  

“I was so scared,” she whispered.  “The- the not-you-” She sucked in a shuddering breath.  “Everyone was dying, and then- and then it was just-  It was like a dream.  Like it didn’t happen.  But you were gone.”

Danny nodded, even though she couldn’t see him.  

“I’m so glad it’s you,” she said.  “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Her love, so tenuous and slender compared to Clockwork’s, but no less genuine, wound around his wrist.  He hugged her back.  

If he had been able to speak, he would have said, Me, too.  

[horanghoe]

warm milk & honey - SKZ fic

A/N: I just realised I forgot Han ^ I am screaming

Pairing: OT7/reader

Rating: PG friendly (with a friendly warning of poly / multiple person relationship).

Genre: POLY!SKZ / Fluff / Very slight angst & mentions of bad sleep patterns.

Word Count: 3.6k exactly, my doods

Summary: A restless night, ultimately remedied by your sweet baby man angel boys. Or alternatively: Istg if Jisung makes one more weird noise imma end this man’s whole life no cap, Binnie hold me back -

Back to ~ SKZ Masterlist

Back to ~ Main Masterlist

Special Mentions <3

 @domjaehyun​ for being a yoghurt eating legend that takes a year to respond ASKDJF ILY BICH//

@seowoos​ for inspiring this whole damn thing & helping me feel more comfortable w publishing more niche content models. Even if it’s just cheesy enough for the two of us <3 //

@chocolvte​ for being another OG on this list, n just generally being a sweet bean <3 baby girl ur reactions were the second inspiration to get me INTO SKZ in the first place. ily uwu // 

and lastly, surprise @mikoto-ica-fics​ !! You were the last part of the equation that got me to write smin for these boys. I binged practically all your fics in two nights bby, keep making michellin star fics <3

Tonight wasn’t working out quite as you had expected.

To be honest, it was fucking shit.

Well, the night itself was okay. In terms of activities. An evening in with your boyfriend, Chan.

Just you two versus the world. The poor boy was so tired that honestly, it had only consisted of a walk through the park to grab snacks, and returning to the empty dorm to laze around the whole evening. A Netflix date with some *ahem* late night fun to settle you both into a deep, restful state.

It was brilliant, fantastic. Until it wasn’t.

Until you lay painfully awake in his bed and suffocated in the dark silence and space between you. It wasn’t Chan’s fault; the obnoxious whirring of electronics made your head spin, tiny flashing lights and minute feelings of unease at the cupboard door leaning open; all made it virtually impossible to sleep.

It was too cold. Too hot. You were so comfortable, melted into the mattress. But it was swallowing you and your claustrophobia was starting to make you twitch. Moving off of your angelic boy’s limbs, you shimmied to the cooler side of the bed.

He stirred a little, before settling on turning away, onto his side. Phew. At least you hadn’t woken him. It wasn’t like you were trying to be selfish, but fuck. This was insufferable.

Every time you looked at the clock you were sure it slowed down - balls, at this point it could’ve skipped back an hour and you wouldn’t have batted an eye. Mostly because if they weren’t checking the clock, they were staring dead straight up at the ceiling.

Eh. Ugh. Fuck. I can’t sleep.

That’s all your brain could think. Stuck - monotone and on a never-ending loop.

It seemed like everything you had ever thought was swimming around in your brain like some kind of primordial juice. Feelings and emotions swelling and bloating in your belly until they settled.

And then a car passed outside, and everything started to swell up again.

Chan was on his side, turned away and peacefully gaining some shut-eye. He was only lightly sleeping though, that much you could tell. His body gently lifting, then falling with breath. Like you; he often struggled to sleep deeply, usually not lasting very long when he did manage to.

You were so pissed.

How dare he sleep. And look so good doing it. Even just his bareback looked hot as shit - here you were, a messy, greasy big toe wrestling with your stupid ape brain to shut off the useless brain thoughts, next to this slice of heaven - just, ugh existing so perfectly.

“Oh my god, this is torture.” You cursed quietly into the dead space.

Maybe the frustration was all from hormones?

Nah, fuck that. Feminism and all that jazz. That’s just part of the human condition, babycakes. Happens to the best of us, unfortunately.

No, what it was, was the constant whirring coming from the TV screen and Felix’s PlayStation tower and large monitor. The tiny little flashes, whirrs, huffs from the fan and rotating lights. It was driving you abhorrently insane. FUCK.

“Chan? Channie, baby, are you awake?.” You whispered into the air. His breath faltered a little, stirred mostly by your movement to groan, gruff and flip the duvet off your hot, sticky body. Gentle though you tried to be, it was still enough to wake his fuzzy brain.

“Chan, please. I’m sorry babe but that TV is driving me fucking insane.” Your voice was too alert and frustrated for him not to stir. His heart panged a little at the distress laced in your tone.

“Please, Channie. I’m so sorry…”

He rolled on his back to look at you. Slowly, and with much effort. He groaned softly before wiping his eyes and leaving his arms above his head.

“Hey.” He whispered, warmly smiling.

“Don’t be sorry – can you not sleep again, baby girl?” Chan asked softly, watching you sit stiffly upright. His deep voice made your heart flutter, nodding as he groaned. He smiled despite any resentment you may have allowed him to feel. Resting his warm palm against your rib as he muttered a response - you excused his fumbled words for definition - so tired he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“You can turn it off, yeah?” Chan sighed.

What he meant was ‘You know how and where to turn it off, without messing up the whole system like last time, right?’. You nodded quickly, squeezing his bicep lightly before slipping from the exposed mattress.

Dashing up to scramble behind the low TV unit and find the one wire to end it all. Your infernal pain that was.

He watched you, letting his eyes rest occasionally. Truth was, you looked so beautiful to him when you were concentrating on something. For example, pulling out the HDMI cord triumphantly. And holding in a small squeal (scream), of relief when the high pitched buzzing cut out with a slight electronic fuzz. He chuckled, not missing your little feet pattering in step with a tiny little victory pump.

“Yes. Fuck. The noise, it’s gone!” Chan chuckled softly, keeping his arm outstretched until you landed beside him. Pulling you toward him, under the covers.

“Yeah, you really got that wire Y/N. Showed it who’s the boss, huh?” His tired enthusiasm outweighed his sarcasm, owning a soft kiss to the cheek as you clambered over the bed, only to flop with a weighted sigh straight down onto his shoulder.

He giggled, smiling with a yawn as he tucked his arm against your ribs, tucking you up against his chest in a bearhug.

You fell asleep quickly; soft breaths and just the presence of Chan's being, enough to satiate the gnawing ache in the back of your brain.

And it was peaceful. Restful. Warm, and so pleasant.

Until it wasn’t.

Turns out tonight wasn’t your night. The clock read 1:28 am – and the boys were due to come home from practice any moment now. To be honest they were pretty late.

Chan had originally had the day off, hence the chance for you to be led here in his arms. But you were starting to think it really hadn’t made that much of a difference.

It wasn’t just the high pitched whirring that had aggravated you, but now the uncomfortable heat radiating from Chan's body. The small whoosh of cool air against your neck at any vehicle that passed by. Or just the evening breeze. You groaned softly, dropping your head back to Chan’s chest with a soft thud, lulling back into a light and unrestful sleep.

Ten minutes or so passed. Waking from a fuzzy dream, you were disorientated. The worst dreams always happened in short little bursts. Like little hellish fever dreams.

The clock now read 1:39 am and the time between minutes was becoming unbearable. Too long to bear . You had to move. Speak. Scream. Cry. Kick. Do something.

Peeling off Chan’s arm, and replacing yourself with a large fluffy pillow, you left your lover to rest. You dread to think that it would be able to replace you, but hey, at least it wouldn’t move like one big fat sweaty ferret, right?

Sigh. Sad times.

You abandoned Chan for the disgustingly bright hallway. Seeking new comforts, from whoever would take you. The boys were home; noises of beings floating down the hall, past Chan’s room.

By the time you had gathered the strength to rise off the bed though – blinking away the stars and excited little lines in your vision and raising enough chi to move your soul, and body upwards off of the bed – an inkling of tiredness was starting to itch into your consciousness.

You ached to be held. Loved.

You weren’t sleepy enough to get back into his bed though. Though; you missed Chan’s body as soon as you had tumbled yourself away from it.

---------

Fetching your favourite fluffy square pillow and putting on one of Chan’s big shirts, you padded out and into the hallway. The door closed behind you with a soft putt, pillow tight against your belly.

The tired but comfortingly loud voices of your other lovers were coming from the kitchen.

You wobbled forward, groaning to yourself as your thighs began to ache. Just from being alive, you guessed. Your thighs tingled your skin into little chilly goosebumps, a shiver sparking down your spine.

Maybe the heat of Chan’s bed wasn’t so bad, you began to consider. Before a voice echoed down to where you were slowly walking from.

“Ya – hold up, I’ll grab my jumper then we can watch that stupid shit-film you were on about earlier?” You heard Jisung shout over the kitchen to the boys gathered on the sofa.

The boys muttered some form of agreement and before you could process it, the firm but soft body of Han Jisung had swung right around the corner and straight into your zombie path.

Being conscious, and not half-dead like you, he was able to stop abruptly in front of you and step back a little. The shock of a body blocking his path was quickly masked with warm love as he cooed at the sight of you.

“Y/n-ieeeeee look at youuuu~” He whispered loudly, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze you firm against his body.

His presence eased you, despite the chaotic energy he may have appeared to have. He was just one big squirrel with muscles. The perfectly-right size to pull you against him, your neck flopping so skin met skin, cheek to shoulder in that white sleeveless shirt of his.

You melted into his caring touch, groaning when he gave a squeeze and actually, not hating how firmly he held you. For a moment, he seemed to be just quietly accepting your unspoken words. Night-long grief expressed in the way you clung to him.

Eventually, he asked the inevitable questions, though.

“Baby, why aren’t you asleep? Hmm, pretty? It’s like, 2 am already!” He exclaimed softly, somewhat conscious of Chan’s sleeping presence down the hall. And your zombie-eardrums.

You couldn’t answer, instead, you let him pull you away so he could peer down at your head against his shoulder. The pillow was a soft barrier between you, though he removed it to place it softly on the floor.

“As cute as you look in Chan’s top right now, baby, this hallway is pretty cold. Gosh damn, your legs are shaking so much. How long have you been standing out here princess? Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” He squeezed you against him once more - rubbing his warm palms against your trembling, shivering thighs.

As he stood back up you groaned again, reluctant to articulate how badly you just wanted to be softly touched. Not aggressively rubbed. Even if you appreciated the notion, it was cutely awkward. Your expression made him laugh softly, tucking hair behind your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek, head, forehead.

“You okay though? Wanna come sit with us?” You nodded quickly, body flopping into his hold as soon as his arms went to lift you. Your head rested on his shoulder, Jisung’s body dipping to lift you and wrap your knees around his hips. He was such a careful, sweet baby boy.

“Ya – come on you big baby, you. Who do you want to be delivered too for the meantime, huh? I gotta go change out of my gym stuff.”

“Hyunjin-ah... please...” You mumbled airily. Despite how unused your voice was, it was sweet as honey. He smiled, responding with a soft “Sure" before turning back to where he had come from. Heart warmed by the opportunity to care for you, even if for just a moment.

And even though he was a bit sticky – and the thought ‘yuck' registered quickly in your half-conscious brain – you didn’t mind the smell. Or the languid way he carried you.

You nuzzled against his neck, groaning once more as his entrance was announced to the room. A loud “Han Jisung's Special Delivery Service!” was projected, I.N. slipping by with a quick ruffle of your hair before moving to turn down the hall, into his room. The boys looked up at the noise and your entrance into the room, immediately softened by the sight.

You, entirely snuggled against a buoyant Jisung, that held you so carefully against his chest. Messy hair tucked under his chin; your eyes were puffy, sore, and barely open as he came into the centre of the soft-lit room.

“Nawww – cuuuutieeee~” Changbin cooed, Lee Know giggling as Seungmin stepped forward to kiss your cheek, sweetly brushing hairs away from your face. The proximity to Jisung didn’t seem to spook his intimacy.

Your eyes fluttered close from the embrace, Seungmin smiling to himself at his ability to soothe you. Even just a little.

“That’s a funny looking jumper, Ji.” Seungmin quipped, before adding a quick “Hi Y/N.” With a small squeeze of your cheek, before heading toward the kitchen.

“Hyunjin-ah you have a special request delivery here, where shall I put her?” Jisung questioned, approaching the sofa nimbly.

Hyunjin smiled, shuffling a little before holding out his arms, patting his lap.

“Right here~” you heard, before feeling gravity weigh at your back. You got off early, aided by Jisung and Hyunjin’s hands on your hips. Quietly you yawned, turning to a barefaced beautiful boy, smiling at you cutely.

Jisung pecked a kiss on your shoulder before passing, leaving to go sort himself out.

Hyunjin smiled up at you with a coo, pulling you down towards him with his long limbs. With you laying, legs tangled above him he wiggled back so you could lay comfortably on his chest.

He kissed your cheek before tucking your forehead against his chin, your eyes slowly bobbing open and shut as his calm vibe washed over you. Changbin shared some of your weight on the somewhat roomy sofa; kissing your hair softly and curling against you to keep you warm.

The television was on a late-night MC show playing. Though it registered to you as white noise. The boy’s voices over you were soothing, even if they edged a little loud occasionally.

At some point, you had started to drift off again. For the most part, Hyunjin was a gentle giant anyways. So despite his resistance to skinship, your body (and some of the boys), was never left out in terms of body-pillow-comforts.

Meaning, he treated your limbs like a very bony pillow he could encapsulate entirely.

You weren’t sure where the others were. Or what part of the sofa you were even on. You figured the end since the guys had their feet up. But you didn’t mind. It was safe. Here, in their arms. Against their bodies.

Even the bright overhead lights of the kitchen and hallway weren’t enough to stop you lulling into sleep.

At a later point, you awoke again with a startle – Jisung shushing your tired whines with a kiss as he jumped onto the sofa to your left, a little too enthusiastically. Hyunjin moaned like a brat, ultimately having a play fight underneath you until you mustered up a death stare to end all squabbles, ever. Period. Jisung settled, intertwining your fingers on Hyunjin’s belly until your breath softened. Falling into a weak slumber once more.

Once again; your sleep was great. Perfect. Until it wasn’t.

An abrupt jostle of Hyunjin jolting to stop spilling the food he held above your head, was met with an unattractive grunt of pure disgust on your part. Eyes squinted, head wrinkled and body tense, you were once again awake.

“Sorry baby! I didn’t mean to wake you!” Hyunjin whined, too loudly next to your throbbing head. Changbin noticed your tense limbs and pulled you backwards against his chest. This merely caused another squabble to ensue between them - who held the right to hold you, like a fluffy comfort blank.

Suddenly everything was bothering you again.

Their constant jostling and boyish movements were just too much. You pulled up from Changbin. Avoiding the tugging, whining, needy arms and hands from Hyunjin to stand weakly once more.

Frustrated. Tired. And all coupled with a reasonably ugly scowl weeping over your face.

They were so engrossed in their silly little arguments, little kicks, punches and teasing laughter, that they barely even noticed your sluggish movements to get up.

Until you were on your feet. Your body heat sapped from them in a bitter attempt at being sour. Hyunjins hands immediately flew out to steady you. Changbin pouting but ultimately letting you retreat once more.

“Y/Nieeee~ Come baaack, I didn’t mean it. Come lay back down, baby~” Hyunjin whined warily, the other two boys still giggling amongst themselves. You swatted against the tiredness on your face, grumbling before stumbling backwards.

You made it a few steps before you folded over on impact at hitting the kitchen table. The table thudded on impact and the boys winced, watching your face scrunch up in pain immediately.

A new pair of hands caught you this time, stuttering before lean arms caught you.

“Woah! Careful there pretty girl, nearly took the whole bloody table out. You okay?”

Felix's. Soft, caring and most importantly soft voice and calm motions of support waved over you in a way that gave you immediate comfort. You rested your head against his chest as he tugged you up, body slumping into him with an inaudible impact. He giggled, despite your weighted movements, speaking lowly with that deep, tired voice of his.

“Y/N, you silly sausage, are you alright?” He prompted quietly, leaning his head down to capture your whines and huffs of pain.

“Owww, my butt… That hurt~” You groaned, not minding his giggles but sending a puffy glare to the others snickering away on the sofa.

The table (or your idiot bulldozer body), had set a deep ache right into the cheek of your butt. Your hand kneaded it gently before Felix’s hand quickly replaced yours, rubbing and squeezing softly until your face scrunched, the pain subsiding.

“Ouch.” You whispered, peering up at him with a pout. He kissed your nose cutely with a little eruption of giggles, helping you crack a pouty smile.

“Come on, cutie.” He mumbled before grabbing your hand to guide you slowly into the kitchen. “I could kiss it better?” He prompted, ultimately softening at your lack of response. You were so morgue-ish you hadn’t even registered his words. Letting him tug you blindly as your eyes struggled to stay open.

You could barely register his hands, pressing at your waist. Weakly managing to hold on as he lifted you on top of the counter. Squinting, you could see the clock read 2:23 (am) on the cooker. Ugh. What a night.

You’d feel shit in the morning. But that was nearly impossible to think about with the way Felix was holding you right now. Like a baby. Or a puppy. A little ball of fluff.

He kept some form of contact as he moved around you – a hand to the knee or his hip between your legs. Or even lips against your hairline, using the counter space around you to do something. What he was doing, you were tired to even care.

“You know what used to help me Y/N? When I couldn’t sleep at night?” He prompted gently. You shook your head, pulling back with a weak sway

“Warm milk and honey!” He exclaimed quietly. Too cute for his own good. You smiled, and he pulled you against his chest to kiss your cheek and giggle delicately.

“You want some? Then we could try to sleep? You look like you need some shut-eye, baby. Don’t wanna miss out on that beauty sleep! If you want - we can always sleep in – just call in sick? Your boss is honestly so nice, I'm sure she won’t mind. You say you’re always working through lunch breaks anyway?”

Despite his rambling, you just nodded. Tired eyes once again resting as the hum of the radiator, the vibration of his chest eased your brain. Your head tucked so right underneath his chin. His palms folded behind your lower back.

At some point, Changbin had appeared. Sweeping a thumb over your forehead before kissing you sweetly, cheek resting on Felix’s shoulder.

“I love you, princess. Sorry for waking you.” He had whispered against your lips. “Mmm-I-love-you-too-Binnie~” You managed in one tumbling sentence. In fairness, the touch would've probably led you both somewhere (the bedroom), if you weren’t in such a zombie-like state.

“Sure thing, pretty.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your puffy cheeks before retreating. He let you both be, cold marble beneath your thighs now warmed by your constant body heat. You passed out pretty quickly against Felix’s chest. Cocooned, safe.

What you did miss in your deep, deep sleep was the way they carried you.

Felix physically, to their shared room. Changbin carrying your drinks and fetching your favourite pillow from the hall.

And what you heavenly missed in the night; they made up to you in the morning.

And the next night. And the night after that.

Because even though you occasionally suffered restless nights, you knew one of them would always be there to catch you.

And you’d do the same for them.

P.S. Fuck Chan’s wiring system. Extension cables were the bane of your nightly living. *holds up fingers in a cross and hisses*

well would you look at that: updated 03/OCTOBER/2021

[subscorpsupremacy]

Heat in the Fire Gardens 2

Kuai was grunting heavily. His face was a deep shade of pink. The Lin Kuei grandmaster’s face was a storm of emotions. His brows furled and raised and contorted yet again. His eyes kept darting, rolling upwards or trying to look sideways at his assailant that was just out of view, or hidden momentarily by lids shut tight. The cryomancer huffed and bit his lip, and gnashed his teeth. He fought against an unmanly moan, he tried to contain a yelp, and he grunted and roared at the sky. Sub-Zero buried his face in the ground, as if it made any difference. None of his actions made any difference. Hell, they weren’t even actions. They were simply reactions to the relentless assault of Hanzo. Kuai’s whole body was not his own to control.

Hanzo has plowed Kuai on the ground. The ninja has forced the cryomancer to bend over by the bridge. The Shirai Ryu grandmaster has pinned the Lin Kuei grandmaster against the tree, both facing it and back against it. Wherever Hanzo wanted, he had his way with Kuai.

“Still trying to hold on to what little self-respect you have?” Hanzo challenged as he ramped up the speed of his thrusts. The slapping sound of his thigh against Kuai’s ass was trying to compete with the sound of Kuai’s grunts and moans.

The sun was setting and Hanzo still has yet to hear his name howled out loud. He was getting annoyed at Kuai. Hanzo knew he was fucking Kuai’s brains out and the cum out of the cryomancer, but the Lin Kuei scum still won’t give Hanzo the satisfaction. Hanzo wanted his name to echo in the empty gardens. “Howl my name!” Hanzo shouted with a powerful thrust. The ninja held his position deep inside Kuai as cum shot out, already one of many times this afternoon.

Kuai was panting and clutching leaves and roots. His hair was disheveled and littered with all sorts of dirt from being dragged all around the Fire Garden. Kuai was enjoying getting thoroughly fucked. But he was also enjoying Hanzo’s rising temper. Was it really pride and their lasting rivalry that continued in their sexual dynamics that made Kuai consciously avoid howling Hanzo’s name, or was it because he knew he would be fucked more roughly if Hanzo’s temper burns closer to levels seen more often when the ninja was still Scorpion? Kuai didn’t know. As often with their relationship, it’s always a mixture of two opposing ideas.

Hanzo threw Kuai against the well and its posts. They haven’t fully removed their armor and garb, and uncomfortable as it was, they were engulfed by their passions too fast to bother, until they both realized having careless and rowdy sex in the midst of the gardens both ignited their desires even more.

Kuai had to catch his breath as his chest slammed against the well post. Hanzo was always dominant, but he was starting to really manhandle Kuai. Seed has not even started to leak out of Kuai's hole yet, but the ninja has already guided his cock in.

"Hnn..aargh!" Kuai screamed. He was used to pain from training. However, the Lin Kuei grandmaster didn't exactly have endurance training for his hole, nor was he fucked this long and hard ever.

"Why won't you howl my name, Sub-Zero?" Hanzo asked. His eyes started to burn with hellfire. "I emptied the garden for you. Do you not submit to me, Kuai? Do you not accept me as your ally?" Hanzo was angry, but the anger hid at its center, frustration, longing, and desperation. Despite being lightheaded from all the railing he was taking, Kuai still caught the emotion buried by the facade of rage. And he also caught the sensation of a single very miniscule drop of tear drip down his neck.

"My name is Kuai Liang. I am Sub-Zero!" Kuai shouted into the night sky, his deep voice reverberating in the gardens. "I am grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, and I want nothing else than to have my ass pounded by Hanzo Hasashi, Grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu! I am his, and I submit to his dominance!

"Kuai felt Hanzo's grip loosen initially, and tighten again.

"Only I am worthy to contain his raging erection and withstand his fiery passion, and only he is worthy to enter and forge a bond with me," Kuai said a lot more quietly but with just as much assertiveness. He then turned around and saw Hanzo's surprised face. Their lips met, their moustache brushed and tangled against each other, and their tongues slipped in the opposite's mouth.

"I'm glad you emptied your temple for me. Now fuck me and have your way with me and show me what the grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu can do."

And night came and passed by, and the two men let their bodies and erections profess the emotions they had for each other. As was their initial meeting in the Lin Kuei temple, the casual rough fucking meant only to satisfy carnal desire gradually became passionate, tender and meaningful bonds. Their grips against each other just as strong and tight, but now laden with emotion and fulfillment. They still went around the garden, wherever it pleased them for they were determined to taste each other in every corner or against every wall of the garden. And Kuai no longer waited where he would be taken. Instead, he took lead and told Hanzo where he wanted to be fucked, where he wanted to lie down and spread open, where he wanted to be on his knees. After the sweat and heat, Kuai led Hanzo to the stream. And the two laughed and enjoyed each other's smiles. Age and worries seemed to dissolve from their handsome faces that have seen so much strife.

To their surprise, the golden rays of the first sunlight began to illuminate the treetops and the roofs fo the Shirai Ryu temple. The stamina and endurance of both grandmasters served them well.

"When are your students returning?" Kuai asked.

"They were ordered to return by daybreak," Hanzo answered. "Inexperience and lack of mastery has already deemed them late."

"Lucky for us. But I guess I have to leave soon," Kuai said grimly.

"So it seems. Do not forget your armor. A lot of my students are still uncertain about our alliance. And I must admit the secrecy of our relationship makes it all the more exciting for me," Hanzo said as he leaned in for a kiss.

Kuai kissed back and started to dress himself up. Hanzo reluctantly started to dress himself as well.

"Perhaps I can repay you for your hospitality," Kuai grinned. "I want to suck you off and give you the meanest head you'll ever receive."

"Oh?" Hanzo raised one brow in curiosity. "You want to risk being seen by my students kneeling in front of me in the middle of the gardens, my meat inside your mouth and your dignity in shambles?"

"I am confident I can make you climax fast," Kuai grinned. "And if I fail, you can fuck my throat to make you come faster."

"Do not be foolish, Kuai. It's very uncharacteristic of you."

"Hanzo, our whole affair is uncharacteristic for me. You have that effect on me."

Hanzo was flustered. His flushed cheeks were undeniable in the soft light of dawn.

Kuai leaned in to Hanzo's ear. "Don't you want me to keep your load in my mouth until I reach my temple?"

Hanzo went immediately erect. "That can't be possible."

"Don't you want to find out?"

[twisted-imagines]

I really loved your headcannons for sfw and nsfw headcannons for savanaclaw!! I had to stop reading it a couple times bc things got steamy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). May I request a scenario of octavinelle with MC and and the guys taking a bath together, it can be both sfw and nsfw (*^ω^*)

Woohoo! Right, that's what I was counting on😋 Thank you very much! I hope I caught your intention the right way because I read it like a bath together will all the boys at the same time 😏 You shouldn't have been worried, because there's also a hc ask, but thank you anyway~ So here it is, the smuttiest scenario I've ever written and headcanons for each character separately. Those are mostly sfw, maybe not as fluffy as you wanted, but I tried;

Please remember to use protection, leave your comments and enjoy yourself💗

Bath time with Octavinelle trio 🐙🐬🦈

Deep breathe in and breathe out. Your heartbeat was slowly returning to its usual pace. Finally, the hunt was over, Bean's Day a total success, mostly. Maybe it would have been even better if the competitive atmosphere didn't get to you in the middle of it and rendered you a useless, anxious mess. You were glad Leech twins calmed you down then and took care of you for the end of the event. Perhaps those types of games weren't meant for you.

Resting in the pleasant shadow of the forest's margin while waiting for Azul, you could see how hard they have worked. The way Jade was frowning and sighing heavily from time to time with Floyd just lying near him on the ground whining, not on top of his game anymore. When the white-haired man finally separated from the crowd you got up to wave in hopes of him noticing you. He spotted you quite fast and strode into your direction.

"Good job today, all of you. You gave the monster team quite a challenge, isn't that right, guys?"

The Octavinelle dorm leader's speech was flawless as usual, not betraying the bitterness from his earlier encounters and the adrenaline still present in his system. It was obvious, the facade he was putting on. You learned to see past it, after spending so much time with the boys. To you, their inner selves were much more interesting. You couldn't help but smile to yourself. The year promised to be the most vivid you've had yet if they continued to be the constant presence in your everyday life, those boys.

"Oh, aren't you spacing out, [Name]?"

"Right, right~ Pay attention to meee~"

Voices from both of your sides belonged to none other than the two brothers. You snapped back to reality. Floyd was now hanging off of your right arm, a quite usual occurrence you had to note, and his twin was closely observing your face. A slightly annoyed sight escaped Azul. All the running around was finally taking its toll on him, he looked weary and tired. It seemed even talking was too much for him at the moment, something which was not like him at all.

"The main event is over, but the closing ceremony will be conducted in two hours. We have just enough time to wash up, change, and rest for a bit. We're going to the dorm right now, you're coming with us, aren't you?"

It didn't feel like a question or invitation if anything more like a concealed order, but you nodded anyway. Spending the time in their company was always bringing up your mood and did they love to see you smile happily like that.

"Yay! Bath with koebi-chan! So fun~"

Hm? What was that again? When you looked at Floyd he was already was ahead of you walking with Azul, and even Jade turned away from you when you tried to ask what was going on. Was there anything you were missing?

At the Octavinelle dormitory, you were led to a spacious room, one you had never visited before.

"It was previously used by the residents as one of the dorm's conveniences. It didn't suit us, so for doing a complete renovation of this place, only the dorm leader can now allow to use it."

"And of course Azul doesn't let anybody here, except for us, hehe~"

You listened to Azul's explanation with the occasional remarks from Floyd about how that enormous parlor with a hot tub of the size of the pool was now completely off the limits for regular Octavinelle students. The interior made you think that you entered some underwater cave, it gave off an otherworldly aura. It was a simply wonderful resort. You could only look around and once again realize just how cunning and inventive those boys could be. You felt a warm presence on your shoulder, only to find Jade standing close to you with a usual charming smile playing on his lips.

"I shall show you to the changing room. There's also a shower, but don't take long. After all the main attraction is right here."

The adjacent room wasn't as big, but it had enough place for the four you. The setting minimalistic, the only furniture was a sofa and hangers with few dressers. You could see the shower on your right. Jade's gentle grip remained on you for a fleeting moment you were observing the room before he moved away. While you were contemplating your disposition, Floyd was already casually ditching his sports clothes. You gaped at the sight unfolding.

"Hm? Is something wrong, my dear? If you have some problems, I'll be happy to assist you."

Azul's voice had the most genuine concern in it but you knew better than that. "It's all preplanned", - was reading in his eyes. Wrong? Of course, nothing was wrong in how he languidly unfastened the belts on his uniform, in the sinful grace with which he was doing it. His azure orbs were unmoving, hypnotizing you with their gaze.

"No need... I was just thinking about how fitting those clothes actually are."

Trying to escape from the whirlpool the man was trying to take you in, your eyes darted in the opposite direction, accidentally falling on Jade's rear, still clad in those skintight pants. The merman's cheeks turned pink, not missing your action, slightly misjudging it even. Daring not to make eye contact, you swiftly occupied yourself with the task of undressing.

You could finally let out a sigh of relief, having fully submerged yourself into the hot water of the pool, generosity of Azul, who prepared it. You closed your eyes and tried to enjoy the calming aroma, the steam curling, and caressing your face, but the unyielding ogling of pairs of eyes was unnerving. You were not escaping out of this, you understood.

You could feel him ripple through the water, his hands enveloping your waist. It was the sight of Floyd looking up at you with a placid smile that welcomed you. He was resting on your knees, drops of water cascading down his face. He was still. For now.

"So?~ Pretty sick, land's "jacuzzi", won'tcha say?"

His effervescent voice echoed in the room, disturbing the quiet noise of popping bubbles. You stretched your hand to place in on his face only for it to be immediately trapped in his grasp. His token toothy smile slowly returned to his face. The temperature was rising. More and more closer Floyd was moving to you until two strong hands finally trapped you between his body and pool's side. Red against your skin, his tongue traced a way from your neck to jaw. Your breathing was now much more rugged than before.

"Tasty little koebi-chan~ You have no right to look so delicious-"

A bite followed. Floyd had successfully learned all your most sensitive spots and played them smartly even now. You could no longer keep your moans to yourself. The sweet noise spurred into action two other occupants of the room, who too longed for some attention.

"How greedy of you to steal [Name] all to yourself, brother. I too want a taste."

"You guys are not the only ones in the room. How annoying..."

In your peripheral vision, you could see them move closer until you felt your arm and leg being seized on each side. You were rendered immobile, each boy molding your body into the desired pose.

"Tsch~You two can get lost, for all I care."

Saying that in low voice, almost dropping down to a growl, Floyd was relentless in his task of forcing moans out of you, your already heated body unable to resist the pleasure he was giving you. You whined when his hand dropped down to your core, aching for more stimulation. Teasing and gliding, tension fluctuating, it was driving you crazy. When he decided that it wasn't enough for him anymore, Floyd dragged you out and hoisted on the cold surface outside of the pool. The difference in temperatures and his moist fingers plunging into your hole made you wail on top of your lungs. Your body was burning up and shivering from cold at the same time, wringing in his firm grip was just spurring you further into an igneous frenzy. Your vision blurry with water dripping down your face, or were those tears of pleasure, you were no longer the master to your body. The man before you controlled your every breath, every moan, his own form partly morphing to merman's.

White bliss overtook your mind when he sharply thrust into you. It wasn't gentle, at all, but it was precisely what you wanted, what you accustomed to, and welcomed with your very own thrusts back. Floyd's fast tenacious jerks were working you into an even more nonsensical state, the weight of his body on top of yours was superseding all your thoughts with flaming hot want. The lack of free air in the steamy room was affecting you, making you light-headed. The man rocking into you with immense strength was now your only leverage in the hazy world you were residing in at that moment. Continuing to bite and mark you up, his movements became even more erratic hinting at how close your lover was. You felt it building, the imminent release, when it finally crashed down upon you. Your last scream Floyd too claimed as his own, capturing your lips in his in a messy kiss, continuing to languidly trust up into you, riding out your orgasms.

While you were regaining your consciousness, a cacophony of hisses and screams, clearly somebody bickering, was the only thing you could hear besides the low buzz in your head. They stopped abruptly, a moment of calmness took place. You could register a shadow looming over you. A warm, somewhat slippery hand caressed your hot cheek. You couldn't help but lean more into a comforting touch.

"Barbarian-! My dear, are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Just thoroughly fucked~♡"

The harsh smack ringed through the room, most likely not reaching its destination. Azul's attention returned to you, the man carefully cradled you to himself, when you felt some smooth appendages slithering around your body. You reasoned, that just like the eel merman, cecaelia had also accidentally sprouted some of his octopus-like features. While Azul most certainly still stood on his two legs before you, a few tentacles, deep purple and supple, coiled around you gently, but firmly. He won't be releasing you just like that, will he?

"I'm fine Azul, don't worry."

""... I'm ready to be fucked again, go for it~" Ahaha- Auch!"

Another smack and Floyd's yelp now following it. Serves him well, mocking you like that. You drew the octopus merman closer to you and kissed softly in a reassuring gesture.

"Everybody did a good job today, only fair to have some recreational moment together. Come here."

Azul's blush only deepened from your bold invitation. He was being seduced and he had no objections to that. How jealous he had been, observing how his friend was selfishly claiming you. He could now be the one to touch and explore your soft, heated body. The thought of it made him immensely happy. The dorm leader didn't get to spend some time with you today, given you were on the opposite teams, so right at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to have you close to him, sighing languorously.

When you finally regained control over your limbs, you made the man release you so you could sit on him instead. The ell's rough loving still panged in your rear duly, but Azul soft moans and the sight of his sweet red cheeks aroused you too hard to ignore your cravings. Strong tentacles once again twisted around you, the young man was drawing you closer still, skin to skin contact was putting him to a state akin to trance, the need to have more of you, of your scent, your taste, your love overwhelmed him. You placed open-mouthed kisses down his neck and jugular, moving lower with each kiss and hickey until you reached the soft flesh of his chest. Azul was practically melting under you, pleasure clouding his mind. It was so long you made love to him, he missed the tender moments so much and here you finally were, on his lap, teasing his hardened nipples, eliciting more sweet noises out of him.

A loud sob broke out of him when you descended down on his hard cock. Swiftly encompassing your legs in a vice-like grip, his tentacles vehemently squeezing you like ivy. You could feel his suckers sticking to you, sure to leave numerous marks for you to discover later. The faster you started to move, the more vocal Azul became, his pleasured noises reverberating in the room. Desperate for more, he started to thrust up into you from his position bellow, but too shallow from being completely bewildered by the tightness of your hole. While you were desperately chasing your high, relishing in Azul's sexy expressions, eagerly kissing them away, you felt two hands reach out for your chest from behind. Jade was there flushed and needy, but the man made no other moves except for lightly twisting your nipple, aiding your second orgasm for that day, while his other hand was busy with his jerking himself off. It took just a few more thrusts for both you and Azul to reach your climax, with each other's names on your lips. The hot liquid that stained both your walls and back, was the evidence of the two men's release. Satisfied, but completely worn out by your lovers, you slowly drifted away to a dark bottomless pit of unconsciousness.

When you woke up you found yourself on the same couch you saw in the changing room, this realization coming to you a few moments later that the memories of your previous activities.

"Oh, you're finally awake. How do feel? Does it hurt especially bad somewhere?"

Jade's questions nearly missed you as their addressee, for you were slowly coming back to your senses, which also meant facing the excruciating consequences of your supposed relaxation time.

"I can't feel my legs at all. Was I out for long?"

"Not that long. I had just enough time to carry you there and run for a few things, like a transformation potion, because those bumpkins got so excited they turned to their original form."

"I genuinely don't know how that happened. [Name], I'm deeply sorry."

Azul's remorseful voice drew your attention to him and Floyd standing near the door, in their human forms, already dressed in their uniforms. Jade was wiping your body with wet cloth in the meantime, carefully inspecting your body for marks and other "love confessions".

"You have nothing to feel sorry about, I enjoyed it very much. But it seems I won't go anywhere with you today anymore."

"Indeed, doesn't seem like [Name] will be able to visit the closing ceremony. Don't worry I'll stay here with you."

Jade addressed Azul and you in turns, gentle smile was playing on his lips. Reassuring you that you will be in caring hands the man lovingly pecked your cheek.

"Heeeeh~ You want just want some alone time with koebi-chan, don'tcha, Jade?“

Floyd who was silent before neared his brother with a mischievous grin.

"Not quite right, I surely exercise more control of myself than to prey on defenseless and fatigued [Name] like that. Not to mention, I already got my share earlier today. Motivational supplies were just the best."

Jade retorted with a wicked smile of his own, showing his razor-sharp teeth in this rare instance. His twin could only blink in confusion, not ready for such a twist.

"So you were ahead of us this whole time, Jade? It's also quite unexpected from you, my dear [Name], but I'm not in the position to complain. Please rest up and restore your power, we'll go and come back."

Azul came close to you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Love you very much."

He added in a quiet voice before he left the room to prepare for the last event of the day. Before Floyd could follow him out, he ran up to you to briskly kiss you on the lips and say his own goodbye:

"Koebi-chan is always so fun to play with, it's too hard to stop sometimes. Be a good little one and relax. Don't get lonely, I'll come soon, 'kay?~"

Bathing headcanons(SFW/slightly NSFW)

Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

• Very diligent about his bathing and grooming routine, Azul takes shower at least once a day. To be a successful businessman one needs to take care of himself and his looks and the dorm leader doesn't slack off on it. Not to mention, he loves water and misses the ocean and how freely he could move in it. The land's shower is just a small gateway to dull his nostalgia.

• His personal care products mostly smell of some fruit or flower. It's the type of smell that makes you want to just inhale it over and over, maybe just nibble on his skin a bit, flustering poor octopi.

• Maybe sweet smells don't exactly tie in with the image of the powerful, all-mighty magician he works hard to uphold, but practice shows different results. He smells pleasant, relaxing, like somebody who you would gladly entrust your unique magic or valuable possession. How can a guy with such a sincere smile and the air of the flower field in spring around him be threatening? Azul may have lost all of his contracts, but he steadily grows his collection anew, more determined than ever.

• It takes him a lifetime to confess that he wants to shower with you, much faster is just to invite him yourself. You can sense just how eager he is, but the thought of you seeing him naked, and vice versa makes him too shy. Just grab him and take with you, he won't protest much. He helps you to wash your back and hair, loving every second of it. And when you rub him back and massage his body, any and every insecure thought just evaporates, leaving only raw and vulnerable Azul starved for tender touches and appreciative words. When you stay with him, Azul always subtly suggests having a shower together, blushing profusely each and every time. He doesn't even think about doing anything sexual, just washing each other is already intimate enough practice for him.

• He took a habit to always rub and massage your back, be it in the bath or shower, he too finds enjoyment, especially when he hears you sigh in approval or relax into him. Azul would love to receive the same gentle treatment but to his head. With the amount of mental work he does daily he's not a stranger to migraines anymore. But somehow, when when you rub and massage his scalp the annoying pain goes away. He jokingly complains that you've never told him you could use a magic like that, but he's grateful nonetheless.

• Baths are a whole event for him. He's the type to place aroma candles everywhere, throw in a beautiful bath bomb and bring a glass of his preferred drink. And you, of course, his dear lover. Now everything is set for the perfect evening with you, his most favorite person, by his side.

•❗ No action in water unless it's a big enough place for you to safely attempt anything in there. And definitely not the shower, not in a lifetime. He's not strong enough to support you, and he's still adjusting to walking on legs. And it's much more exciting to tease him until he practically begs you to take him right away, only to make him wait for when you're out of dangerous grounds of the shower.

Jade Leech 🐬

• Not as disciplined as his dorm's leader, Jade still makes sure to take a shower once every few days, he has to look presentable and smart as a vice dorm leader himself.

• He smells like the sea breath, very fresh and subtle, not enough to make him stand out, but special enough to understand that this guy is not an ordinary one.

• it's somewhat of his fantasy to take a shower with you. You and water? The perfect combination. It would be a one morning when you stayed at his room, that Jade would tell you, blushing, that he was going to shower and wouldn't mind if you joined him. He would go ahead, not really hoping that you will follow him until he feels a kiss on his shoulder and hands enveloping. Didn't take him too long to understand who just decided to join him, Jade smiling happily at that.

• He wants to wash you, take care of your every body part. If you insist that you can do it yourself or shy away from him he'll tease you and still continue to do his thing. He pampers you to the fullest, just about everything is taken care of. He loves to feel your skin, to see how water streams down your body. If you two are in a rush, Jade won't relent, but he'll be grateful if you wash him in return.

• Baths are also nice in Jade's mind, but he'll take one exclusively if he is exhausted or is promised to have you with him in it. It'll take some bending and working around with it, this man is too tall for most baths. He'll casually hug you while you two relax and enjoy each other's company.

•❗He's pretty open to bathtub sex, Jade thinks that your wet, flushed body is one of the most erotic sights he's ever seen. There he was, thinking you couldn't get even hotter, but he can't keep his hands off of you now, please take responsibility. Still not safe to fool around in the shower, but at least you tried. It wasn't half bad, but Jade confessed later that it was too stressing - he's not willing to risk your health like that anymore.

Floyd Leech 🦈

• He's like a small child when it comes to bathing. It's too bothersome, he doesn't stink, what's the problem. It's a damn war, when Jade tries to stick him in a shower or a bathtub, because a certain furious octopus, hard bend on self-grooming, ordered to have Floyd showered one way or another. The catch is, as soon as he's in water, he's the calmest angel ever. He'll spend there as much time as his human body allows him. Generally, it's twice a week, but he goes to shower willingly after each PE class, he hates the stench of sweat even more.

• He doesn't smell like anything, at best you can smell a candy he ate just recently. He despises strong smells. If he's forced to shower with such shower gel or shampoo he'll be furious and snappy the whole time until it wears off. If he can smell it, it's bad and makes his skin crawl, annoying him to no end. He feels like biting himself, and he doesn't like it. On you, however, he prefers tasty, yummy smells, since he can take a bite no problem.

• The one who accidentally buys a juice-like bottle of some gel and gets a poisoning. "But it looked so edible~", he's banned by Jade and Azul now from any sections of the store, where there can be any chemicals in "misleading" covers.

• Actually baths are his favorite! Cue him clinging to you and just freeze there. He's enjoying it so much. At best you just sit there in his embrace, until the water becomes too cold for his liking, but other times he reverts back to his merman appearance and now he's all over you and you can't breathe properly. He's not oblivious thought, when he deems that he's teased you enough he'll release you. Your reactions are just the best, he can't get enough of them.

• One time he slipped into your shower and just grabbed a handful of your tight and thought it was the funniest thing ever, while you nearly went into cardiac arrest when somebody in all-boys dorm touched you out of nowhere. But who else could have it been, if not your capricious boyfriend. Now, Floyd is suddenly all about going to shower each day, of course dragging you with him. He doesn't even shower, he just stands under the water and squeezes you, ultimately not giving you the chance to clean neither you nor him. It takes colossal efforts, to make him scrub his body, but he still doesn't leave your side.

• ❗By far the most dangerous to have shower sex with, but also the most exciting. Does it stop you? Mostly. Him? Never. He always looks forward to when you inevitably get frisky. Floyd will edge you till the point of crying, have you begging for him to fuck you. He also has enough strength to pick you up and ram into you, or he'll just turn you around and press himself behind setting a fast pace right away.

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 14: Dinner as a Family: Part 1

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood, mentions of death

Summary: Mother Miranda calls all the Lords to a family dinner, even asking for Juniper by name…

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Juniper rolled over and cuddled into Heisenberg, still half asleep. He stretched a bit, easing his arms around her as he relaxed back into the bed. He had plans to get done, but they could wait just a bit longer.

Juniper blinked up at him, a sleepy smile spread over her lips. He met her gaze, lips lazily mirroring her own.

In a small sweet voice she murmured, “You smell so bad, Karl.”

He blinked down at her dumfounded for a moment before lightly shoving her across the bed, huffing out, “Fuck you.”

She was a fit of giggles the whole way.

Their mirth was short lived. The shrill ring of the phone pieced the calm morning air. Heisenberg stiffened sitting up. Juniper instantly went quiet, worry knotting her brow.

Heisenberg stormed over to the phone, suspiciously picking up the phone with heavy reservations.

“Yea?” He spoke roughly into the receiver.

Hearing a woman’s voice Juniper came closer to listen:

“Is that how you answer calls?” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice sounded. Heisenberg snorted. She made a sound of disgust on the other end.

“What the fuck do you want? I’m busy.” Heisenberg spoke, irritation sneaking into his tone.

“Mother wanted me to remind you about the dinner planned for tonight. She’s considering it mandatory that we all attend.” The woman explained.

Heisenberg glanced at Juniper, confusion in his eyes, “A little damn short notice, isn’t it?”

“Oh, dear.” He heard a snobbish laughter filter through the phone, “Did your invitation get lost?”

Heisenberg ground his teeth.

“No matter, be here tonight. Dinner is at seven, and Heisenberg?” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice was cool, almost mocking, “Make sure you bring our sweet little Juniper along.”

“Why?!” He barked, “So you can show off and stroke your ego?”

“Mother Miranda asked for her by name.” Came the answer making Heisenberg’s words die on his tongue. In his silence Lady Dimitrescu smirked, “Don’t be tardy. Oh, and do clean up, won’t you?”

Before she could say anything else Heisenberg slammed the receiver down angrily. He placed his palms flat against the table, simmering.

Juniper waited for him to speak, worriedly.

“Mother wants us to go to dinner tonight at the supersized bitch’s castle.” He informed her, “And she asked for you specifically…”

“What, why?” Juniper blurted out.

Heisenberg quickly turned towards her, “Fuck if I know! Nothing good, it’s never good when she takes interest in someone.”

Juniper’s stomach clenched. She thought for a moment, biting her lip.

“Then let’s not give her any reason to suspect anything.” She finally spoke.

Heisenberg shook his head, pushing past her.

“Karl. Let’s go and be civil then leave. In and out.” She pressed following him.

“Fuck that.” He spat, shoulders tight, “I’m not going to yuk it up for that Bitch.”

Green eyes narrowing, Juniper grabbed his arm. He froze, but didn’t look at her. “If we piss Miranda off we could be in more danger.”

“You’re in danger already.” His voice was low, light fear pricking it.

“So let’s not make it any worse.”

“….hmm.”

“You told me we have to play along, so that’s what we’re going to do.” Juniper spoke evenly, “You’re going to be polite and not cause any problems ok.”

He growled. Juniper touch softened as she continued, “You always told me to be careful…now I’m telling you. I’m not saying you have to kiss Alicina’s boots, just don’t cause trouble. Ok?”

When he didn’t answer she insisted, “Ok, Karl?”

“Fuck.” He looked down, “I’ll behave…but just for you.”

Juniper hugged him for a moment. “Now go shower and I’ll wash your coat.”

“Why?!”

“It stinks, I know you won’t dress up so I’m at least going to wash it. I’m going to brush your hair too.” She reached up to paw at his tangled locks with a critical eye.

He pulled away, “Now that’s too far.”

“Well you better brush it yourself then.” She huffed, starting to pull his coat off.

He gave a little chuckle, “Trying to get me naked?”

Juniper rolled her eyes, fully removing his coat. A thought struck her as she smiled sweetly up at Heisenberg.

“Would that help convince you to strip down and clean yourself up?”

She saw him pause, thinking it over. “You drive a hard bargain, Buttercup.” He smiled toothily.

“So?”

“Deal!” He helped her remove the rest of his clothes, practically jumping into the bed after. He acted like an excited young boy, even when they fucked  like rabbits.

Patting his thigh once he was comfortable, he smiled cockily, “Come sit, Doll. Convince me to be a good little bastard for a night.”

~

They stood on the polished stone steps of Castle Dimitrescu’s gate. Juniper straightened Heisenberg’s collar, looking over him with almost a motherly warmth. Part of him wanted to shrug her away, unused to someone dotting on him in such a way. His face was pensive, his lips a thin line as he stood still for her preening. After she was happy with his appearance her eyes softened. Juniper cupped his jaw, strong and rough under her fingers. His pale eyes rose to meet her own behind his dark shades.

“You are so handsome.” She smiled, her voice sweet and sincere. 

He sighed, giving her an awkward smile before he hid behind bravado, “Tell me something I don’t know, Doll.”

They shared a light kiss before going to the door. Heisenberg pushed it heavily open, without pausing to knock.

The castle was very unlike the factory, glistening and delicate. But under all the gilded edges, seeped into the corners, the stale odor of death still clung. Juniper had long grown used to the hot, clinging air of the factory, finding that the castle felt almost stale and dry in comparison.

The owner of the castle could be heard long before seen, her thunderous steps echoing on the marble floors.

“Wicked witch is comin’.” Heisenberg snickered. Juniper shot him a scolding look just before the lady herself came into view at the top of the stairs.

“Ah, Heisenberg! For once you are early.” She looked down at them, “And actually washed! My, my, a lady’s touch is doing such wonders for you.”

Her tone was mocking, her yellow eyes keen.

Remembering his promise he chewed the inside of his cheek, eyes burning embers.

His silence was taken as a victory. Dimitrescu descended the stairs, each step slow and overbearing.

“Juniper dear, is that the best thing you had to wear?”She looked down at her, “I expected such thuggish attire from Heisenberg, but you too my dear?”

Juniper’s face flushed with embarrassment, before Heisenberg could snap she admitted, “I’m afraid so ma’am.”

She had thought herself well dressed enough for the occasion.

“Hm.” The giant woman pondered for a long moment before snapping her fingers. Two maids came at the sound, curtsying.

“Girls, find Juniper something to wear.” She ordered, “Something to compliment the evening.”

Juniper started to protest, but Alicina insisted, “Oh please it’s the least I could do.”

She strode away with heavy footfalls. Juniper looked down at her boots, feeling out of place.

“Hey kitten, you don’t have to do shit she asks.” Heisenberg hissed in a low voice, “You look great.”

“Thank you.” She smiled weakly. It wasn’t long before the maids returned, a folded dark dress in their hands.

“Come this way m’lady.” The shorter maid instructed as they both turned, beginning to lead them to a changing room. Approaching the door, the maids allowed Juniper to enter, but barred the way for Heisenberg.

He looked down at them heatedly.

“No men are allowed within the changing room my Lord.” One spoke.

“I’ll be ok,” Juniper smiled. He backed down, leaning against the far wall to wait for her. The knob turned, Heisenberg glanced up. His mouth went completely dry.

She wore an evening dress: made out of red velvet, with a collared neckline, a V-cut window into the chest, and made without sleeves. The fabric clung to her every curve, her cleavage peeking through the chest window.

Juniper tucked a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously, “Does it look ok?”

He swallowed hard, feeling his face flush.

Clearing his throat he answered, “It looks great, Doll.”

She beamed, giving him a little twirl. His heartbeat quickened, the dress leaving little to the imagination.

The maids giggled at his reaction. They quickly escaped after receiving a warning look.

Now alone Juniper closed the distance between them. She placed her hand on his chest, looking at him through her lashes.

“You want to tell me what you really think?” Her voice was low, causing blood to pulse to his cock.

Heisenberg took a breath, trying to push those thoughts away. He took her hand in his own, leaning down to whisper, “After this little shindig is over I’m going to ruin you.”

“Mmm.” She rumbled, “You’ll have to be a good boy.”

He licked his teeth, “I might not be able to wait till we get back to the factory.”

“Easy.” Juniper’s lips ghosted over his own before she pulled away. He almost growled.

“We should get back before we’re missed.” She pointed out.

As they made their way down the long halls, a choir of giggles broke out, loud and piercing.

“Juniper!” Cassandra exclaimed, rushing forward. The other sisters close behind.

“We missed you.” Another smiled. The third giggled while adding, “You were so much fun!”

Heisenberg saw Juniper draw back, fear rimming her green eyes. It made his stomach curdle with anger. Striding forward he brandished his hammer, growling, “If I find even a damn scratch on her I’ll break every fucking window in this castle.”

The sister’s eyes widened in surprise. They retreated back, Bella sticking her tongue out, “She reeks of old dog now anyways!”

Their forms shifted into a large mass of swollen flies, filtering through a doorway deeper into the castle.

Heisenberg felt Juniper hand on his arm. His posture softened as he turned back to meet her gaze.

She looked relieved, but spoke lightly, “I know you are wanting to keep up appearances…you don’t have to protect me all night.”

He pulled her a bit closer, burying his face into her hair, giving her a rough whisper, “It’s my job, buttercup.”

She nuzzled into him thankfully.

Oddly, no one else had yet sat at the large table within the main dining hall. The room was almost too quiet, save for the far off echoes of the maid’s heels. Juniper took a seat near the middle of the closest side, patting the seat next to her. Heisenberg heavily sighed, trudging over to sit down. He kicked out his legs widely, slouching in the chair. He looked like an angsty teenager.

Juniper squeezed his knee, “Only a few short hours.”

He nodded.

A maid came briskly in, pushing a wine cart. The cart was white with gold trim, a large bucket containing 3 bottles of wine sat on top. The maid gingerly set glasses down before them both, her eyes soft and ever looking downward.

She went back to the cart,retrieving and uncorking one of the bottles. She served Juniper first, filling her glass with red wine. It stuck to the inside and was much thicker than Juniper thought it should be.

The maid went to pour the next glass. Heisenberg caught her wrist before any wine could spill into the cup, making the maid gasp.

“No wine for me.” He rumbled, “Whisky.”

He released the maid.

She took a step back, looking at the floor.

“My Lord the Ladyship requested we only serve wine at the table.” Her voice wavered.

“Sweetheart, either you go pour me a glass or I’ll find the whole damn bottle.” His tone was warning.

Worry etched into the maid’s features. She quickly curtsied, “Yes, Lord Heisenberg. Right away.”

When the maid’s shoe falls had faded into the distance, Juniper hissed in a low tone, “Are you going to make an ass of yourself all night?”

Still tense as all hell, Heisenberg shot her a look over his shades, “Yea, and?”

Juniper rolled her eyes, turning away, not wanting to argue. She shifted her attention to the wine. Never one for heavy drinking she lifted the glass almost timidly.

The liquid was indeed thick and sticky over her tongue, almost bitter as it gave away to an irony aftertaste. She wanted to hate it, but something inside her pulsed, compelled to drink more. Everywhere the liquid touched left a heavy residue, her cup still red after she finished it.

“Easy, Buttercup.” Heisenberg warned.

She shot him a look.

Donna and Angie were the next to arrive, both in their usual garb. Angie excitedly greeted Juniper, almost falling out of Donna’s hands while trying to wave.

They sat directly across from them, Donna carefully placing Angie into her own seat first. Ever silent, Donna delicately sat down, giving Juniper a small wave.

Moreau was next, almost sliding on the polished floors. His breath was laborer as he took a seat one down from Juniper. She was silently thankful for the small gap between them. He still frightened her.

Lastly entered Mother Miranda and their host. The little semblance of calm evaporated from the table, everyone straightening and growing almost nervous as the women took their places at both ends of the table. Positions of importance.

As the maids hurried about to get everyone served their wine, and Heisenberg his whiskey, Miranda began to speak.

“Thank you, all my dear children, for attending this dinner. Especially our host, Lady Dimitrescu.”

“Oh Mother Miranda, it is nothing.” Alicina gushed, failing to sound humble.

Miranda gave a forced smile, taking a sip of wine before continuing, “As you all know, in two day's time, the full moon will rise over our little village, and Lord Heisenberg will lead another Hunt.”

Heisenberg nodded solemnly as her eyes fell on him.

Before Miranda could continue a small hand raised. All eyes turned to Juniper.

“Ma’am, can I ask something?” She chirped, face rosy under their combined gazes.

Miranda gave her a long look, her face unreadable.

“You may.” She nodded, adding, “And Dear Juniper, call me Mother.”

Juniper swallowed hard at her words, “M-Mother…why do you have the hunts? Aren’t the villagers important to you?”

There was genuine confusion in Juniper's tone, causing Miranda to laugh. It was a clear piercing sound, one Juniper never wanted to hear again.

“Oh my Dear!” Mother Miranda took a breath to compose herself, “The villager’s importance is in what they can provide for us. Their devotion is the principle in keeping order.”

She went on to explain, “We use the Hunts not only to thin the herd of the weak but to keep their devotion strong. When I feel their convictions wane or their offerings lessen we drive them with fear. Like dogs herding the sheep back to shelter.”

Realization filled Juniper's green eyes, her face losing color. The Hunts were just a way for Miranda to keep control. If the villagers didn’t worship her with absolution she would send terror driving them back to the church. Where she can be waiting to be their savior once more.

A cruel game.

“Do you understand?” Mother Miranda asked.

“Yes Ma-…I mean Mother.” Juniper nodded, looking down at her glass.

The maids brought in the first course: bread with herbed oil, and soup that smelled of cream and truffles. They placed a bowl before every guest.

“The food looks delicious Ma’am.” Juniper folded her hands in her lap, “Thank you.”

She looked at Heisenberg expectantly. He shifted the cigar from his teeth to his hand, giving a tight, “…Thanks.”

Alicina gave a cocky smirk, “So you’ve finally been able to teach this dog some manners.”

Before Juniper had a chance to respond, Heisenberg’s head snapped towards her.

“Blow it up your ass!” He growled, ashing the cigar on the tablecloth before returning it to his lips.

Alicina gave a look of disgust, turning away.

The room filled with the clinking of spoons and the light tapping of the maids going to and fro to keep every guest's cup filled.

Juniper gazed over to Moraue. The poor creature struggled to pick up his spoon, the metal slipping out of his twisted hands. Even though he still frightened her, she pitied him. His deformities were no fault of his own and he always strove to please with an almost childlike optimism.

Thinking for a moment, Juniper pulled an extra hair-tie from her wrist. She picked up her second spoon, looping the tie multiple times around the handle until it fit securely and snuggly.

She reached over the free chair and gently took Moraue’s left hand.

He almost jumped at the contact, his one good eye flicking up to her with a mix of confusion and apprehension.

The table grew quiet as Juniper placed her augmented spoon into his hand. His skin was cool and slimy as she encouraged his fingers to wrap around it. Pulling back to sit fully into her seat once more she felt relief, seeing him able to grip the utensil.

Moraue looked down at it for a moment, realizing the grip allowed him to better use it. He beamed up at her, smiling wide and innocent, “Thank you, you are too kind!”

Juniper nodded, returning the smile. Turning back to her own bowl of soup, the rest of the table slowly followed, slightly bewildered.

[angelkurenai]

Lucky idiot - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Lucky idiot

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Hey sweetheart May I request a DeanxReader Imagine where reader is a mermaid but with a twist?Idk if you know the kids show called 'H2O just add water'But basically reader always turns into a mermaid if she gets into contact with water.And I imagined that reader would rescue dean from drowning after he was pushed off from a cliff by a ghost or sth?Then like thelittle mermaid moment where he sees her face after waking up.Then sam shows up and reader disappears.Then they meet her at a cafe I❤️u

“Look, all I'm saying is if you'd let me drive for this ti-”

“Get back to research, Sammy, I've got enough things on my head. Don't need you to make me more dizzy than I already am.” Dean grumbled before his brother could even get to finish his sentence.

“Which is exactly my point here.” Sam couldn't help but huff “Do you really think it's a good idea to drive while being so dizzy? I mean, for the love of, Dean, you nearly drowned three to four hours ago! Unless you're trying to finish the ghost's job right now, I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, letting me drive would give both of us higher chances of getting out of the car alive.”

“Bold of you to assume that if I let you drive, you'd get out of this car alive.” the older Winchester retorted with a half smile, that didn't feel even half as real though, before focusing as much as he could on the road before him “Besides, I've been more than nearly killed plenty of times and despite the trip to the other side, I was always the one to drive the car. I'm fine, just like every other time, Sammy. Only impatient to get some food. Again nothing new.”

“And that's supposed to calm me down now, or what? Honestly, Dean-” Sam huffed, shaking his head “I can't understand you sometimes. It was pure luck that you even found yourself out of there, alive. I mean, if the fall from that kind of cliff didn't do it then the water would have certainly been it and you know it.”

“But again it wasn't. Neither of the two did it for me as you can see, tough as it might have been. Unless, of course, your ranting is looking to be a serious contestant in that?”

“I assure you, me and my ranting are not trying to bore you to death. It's the last thing I want. But that doesn't mean I am not going to talk about it. Seriously Dean-” another shake of his head that this time earned an eye roll from the older Winchester “You could have drowned so easily and yet somehow you found your way to the shore, which let me point out is absolutely not normal. Not in the kind of situation you were in. Not unless there was some kind of help coming from very deep within that part of the water which is even more disturbing to think about. Maybe in equal measures to you not admitting that you being safe and sound on the shore within minutes from the spot you fell is suspicious. What if the ghost isn't the only supernatural creature here to begin with? What if we have to look more into other beings like...”

Sam kept going. Dean was sure of it. Not because he was listening closely, not because he was paying attention to every word and pondering over it because he had to admit that he hadn't made it out of the water on his own. There was no way he would have made it out alive on his own, that much he knew and could understand just like every other sane human being would easily would. That didn't mean it was because that's what he was currently wondering about. Not when there was little wondering to do about it, no. Both because he didn't have the mind to and also because... well, for the same reason as to why he couldn't listen to his brother at the moment. The images running through his mind.

Yes, he was sure Sam was talking to him but only because of the murmuring he could hear, which sounded more like a distant echo. And it was exactly because of those images which he couldn't shake off, he could never forget, that everything else around him sounded and looked distant and blurry. As if he wasn't part of the scenery, as if he wasn't living in it, but was actually more immersed in another world.

And truth be told, he was in a way. He was too focused in his memories, in the images, in the feelings that were still as vivid as they were a couple hours ago when he really felt them that he was almost reliving the moment. Even if part of that world, part of those feelings and moment were also just as distant and blurry as the present.

Dean was struggling, his entire body was struggling, his lungs were struggling, every cell and every inch of him, struggling to hold onto life. He wanted to hold onto the air in his lungs desperately so but as even more of it left and he couldn't find new one, his actions became more frantic and panicked than his thoughts. The fact that he had not been able to prepare for any of it had not helped to give him a head start of any kind, making it easier and faster for his vision to get blurry and filled with dark spots as the air and therefore fight left his body.

It was only when his mind had started feeling like it didn't care anymore, like there was no reason for fight and like maybe, just maybe, sleep would be a good choice. It wouldn't hurt anymore and he wouldn't have to struggle too hard, even if he really didn't get the chance to wake up ever again. His mind was in such a haze that all reason and will had left, perhaps even his perception of reality too. Because in his haze as he looked up he saw the blur of something that shouldn't have been there not only because he was all alone and sinking but also because it looked like something that shouldn't exist.

Then again, as he thought of it now in the car, he found about the existence of many things that shouldn't exist. Killed plenty of them too.

And yet none like this. It was no surprise that he kept it to himself, that he still wondered if it was all real in the first place. The flash of a shimmering white tail, not one of a shark or a dolphin, a fish could have been accurate if it wasn't for its shape and the colors that it reflected, sparkling under the minimal sun that could reach such depth almost holographic, extending long - almost endless in his eyes at that moment - brushing past his arms and legs, it was all still there in his mind. Vivid and clear as much as it had been that moment, which wasn't to say a lot, but he still could not shake off the feeling of arms wrapping around his body. Real hands, belonging to a human, touched his face. A small shake, he was sure there was that, but not only was his head a mess his eyes were also nearly closed and what sight he had was blurry. It didn't last long, Dean was surprised to even remember it, before a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and it was in that moment he felt the pull only followed seconds later by water moving past him at a speed that is by no means normal, but is certainly enough for Dean to close his eyes shut completely. The dizziness it offered mixing with his already hazy mind, led easily enough to him losing both track and sight of what was happening; and he was fairly sure his consciousness too.

He felt like he was coming in and out of consciousness far too many times for anything to make sense. There was no telling apart reality from hallucination to even dreams.

The feeling of being dragged into the shore was something like a ghost feeling in the back of his mind, arms around his torso dragging him and struggling to pull him out of the sea, sounds of struggling and an effort beyond the person's strength – because obviously the lack of water and presence of drenched clothes that only became heavier this way along with the sticking sand made it all much harder to move. Similar to that was the feeling of a pair of hands, human-like, far too human-like and that somehow set Dean on edge, that pressed on his chest, pushing with all the strength the person could master. And certainly similar to the feeling of hands on his face, the touch much more clear than when he was underwater, though still under a veil of haziness in his minds.

All of those moments, though, despite how blurry they seemed, despite how hard it was for him to figure out if they were real, he knew there was one that he couldn't have dreamed of; that it had to be real. The feeling of lips pressing on his cheek, chaste and feather-like and very hesitant much like the way a forehead rested against his; all shortly after he felt the water pour out of his lips – out of his lungs – like there was no ends. But there was, and in the end he could finally get the precious and much-needed oxygen his body was craving for. He was probably – certainly – still very dizzy and his vision had plenty of black spots but there was no mistaking the sigh of relief he heard, human-like so human-like, and a hand cupping his cheek.

“What could you possibly be doing there you idiot?” the voice was low, sounding very much English and very much human “If only you knew how lucky you were.” a small laugh, and it was probably the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, one he would never forget, he should never forget and he knew he'd hate himself if ever forgot “Lucky idiot. Hm seems fitting, since I can't get a name out of you. Who knows what-”

He could not remember more words being uttered, not from that soft and caring voice. He only remembered someone, someone that sounded a lot like Sam and was most likely him though his dizzy brain couldn't even put that together, call out his name in the far distance before came the sound of hasty rustling and water splashing. It was in those hasty few seconds that he got something he wished he could hold onto forever: His eyes slid open, just slightly so, catching sight of a face, your face.

Admittedly he had felt all air leave his lungs for the second time in that moment, and when your eyes met his and he noticed you pause for a half second, he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch you to make sure you were real. Or at least try to, because he didn't have the strength to get more than halfway there. Fact which he regretted later because he couldn't tell if you really had been a fragment of his imagination, what if the face he saw was only in his mind – hard as it would be for him to even dream and therefore make up such a sight.

A sight that combined with the very much mermaid-like, he could only now tell that he was driving and had sobered up, tail vanishing below the surface of the water had been keeping him on edge. Too much for it all to just have been a fragment of his own imagination. Not because it sounded and looked too crazy, nothing could with the kind of life he had, but because he didn't want it to be just him. He wanted it to be real even if he didn't know where he would ever get to see that face, feel those gentle and caring hands that had pulled him to his safety (if he was right about all of it) and hear that compassionate if not clearly teasing voice that revealed a real spark and personality underneath that he could easily adore.

Wait- Adore?

“That's it. That's the caf- Wait- Aren't you gonna stop he- Dean? Dean? Dean!” Sam nearly yelled to get his brother's attention, thankfully making the older Winchester press on the breaks and make the car come to a halt. The younger Winchester could only thank their lucky stars that the road was empty at the moment.

“Huh? Wh-what?” Dean blinked in surprise, as if finally having been brought back to reality.

“Alright, that's it.” Sam huffed stubbornly “We go in there, get something to eat and then you give me the keys and I'm keeping them for the next three days for sure. And I won't hear a single thing from you. We're lucky to be both alive at the moment. Got it?”

He did not leave any room for argument as he stormed out of the car and made his way to the cafe they were originally heading to. Dean, in all honesty, couldn't be more glad for it. It had been anything but silent in his head all this time, he could use a couple seconds of not thinking and not talking to put himself together because at the end of the day he had work to do as well.

Or at least that was what he kept telling himself, repeating the words over and over again like a mantra, to the point he almost believed it. To the point he believed that he had gotten you off his mind, to the point he believed he was getting over everything and to the point that he had convinced himself he was focused on the job and there would be no further distractions. Or at least so he thought until he pushed the cafe's door open and before he could take more than one step inside, felt something – or rather someone – collide with him.

He looked down, lips parted and ready to retort, only for the words to die out in his lips and every though to drown in the sea of disbelief and surprise that took over his entire being. Once more all air had left his lungs and yet the struggle for air had never been as painfully sweet as now.

“Well, look at that...” your voice was soft just like the smile that formed on your lips as your eyes locked with his and Dean still had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that you were there, right in front of him; before you added in a low voice “It's the lucky idiot.”