#so that was still fresh in my mind and like. the best point of reference for me to work with

[ghastigiggles]

Omg omg omg "Here comes the tickle monster" with ler!Jing Yuan and lee!Yanqing! If that's okay ofc💕

Mischievious Prompts [Still Open]

“My lord, please, you should still be resting…”

“A little rest is good for the soul,” Jing Yuan smiled back, gazing out the window; “But too much, and one risks becoming lethargic.”

Yanqing sighed softly, his brow furrowing with worry as he gazed at the general’s back. While it was true that Jing Yuan was bouncing back well, a part of him – the part that was still attached to his mentor – still stressed over the depth of his wounds. Jing Yuan could be like a cat at the best of times, concealing facets of his health to avoid worrying those he cared for – and giving his enemies an advantage, all the same.

“... I understand,” The young warrior managed after a moment, knowing better than to push his luck too far; “In that case, if there’s anything I can do to help, please, let me be of service.”

“Hm.”

Jing Yuan turned to look down upon Yanqing, a soft smile upon his lips as he took in the boy’s worried state – and with a soft chuckle, he nodded, turning to face him fully as Yanqing perked to attention.

“There is one thing…”

Something about the general’s tone struck a memory for Yanqing, who promptly tensed – suddenly overwhelmingly glad that there were no other members of staff present in Jing Yuan’s office. As the older warrior stepped forward, he stepped back, swallowing as he realized where this was going.

“My lord…! You can’t be serious – your condition is –”

“Not severe enough to stop the tickle monster!”

In a split moment, Jing Yuan grinned and started closer, earning a yelp of alarm from Yanqing as he darted away in turn, quickly moving to stay out of reach – though he couldn’t stop the anticipatory, equally entertained smile from seizing his features, nor the squeal that escaped him when the general finally seized his target. 

“Here it comes!”

“Eeyah! Nohohoo, my - my lohord…!”

Ultimately, a little laughter was a soothing balm for both of their souls – and for those who passed by the office’s doors, pausing to smile at the muffled sounds of play within. All would be well within the Divination Commission.

[euthymiya]

[ YOU SAY I’M STRONG (BUT YOU MAKE ME FEEL WEAK) — FT. KINICH ]

SYNOPSIS: kinich can’t quite put his finger on it, but he doesn’t like your new friend. you seem to put two and two together a little better than he does

WORD COUNT: 2.6k words — short n’ sweet like sabrina

INCLUDES: female reader ; mature 18+ content ; jealous/insecure kinich ; spoilers for his character stories ; references to his father’s abuse, gambling, and alcoholism and his mother’s departure ; unnecessary slander of a poor npc who did nothing wrong in canon lolll ; reader sits on his lap ; making out ; dry humping ; alludes to sex afterwards ; not proof read

Kinich knows he’s strong.

He’s gifted. Athleticism comes easily to him, he’s certainly skilled when it comes to wielding his vision, his claymore takes a good deal of talent to swing, and he’s never quite had trouble excelling in combat.

You say he’s strong, too—but not for the same reasons.

You’ve been through so much, you like to whisper.

You grew up so fast.

You’ve come so far.

For some reason, you like to measure strength differently. Kinich doesn’t always understand it—he doesn’t think he’s strong just for surviving the way you like to say. He thinks he’s resourceful, maybe. Perhaps even clever or quick-witted. Strong has never been something that’s come to mind when he thinks of the things he’s grown up around.

He was never strong enough to protect his mother. He couldn’t have saved his father if he’d tried. He never even stood up to the man when his father was alive—his only skill then was running.

Strength found him as he got older. When his weakness was tiresome and burdened him enough that he needed to find his way in this world, Kinich found strength.

He’s good at running. Picking up something as heavy as a great sword isn’t too hard for him. Learning how to dodge and throw a punch is easy enough. Dendro isn’t too complicated to master with enough practice.

Kinich is strong. He knows that, but today, he feels weak.

“Your eyes cross when you think too hard,” you murmur. He breaks from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, relaxing only slightly when that breathy giggle of yours tickles over the shell of his ear as you kiss his cheek and settle beside him. “Here, they’re fresh.”

Kinich likes quenepa berries. They’re easy to grow and rewarding to taste. They were his mother’s best crop, in fact. He lets his lips part as you push a few between his lips and grin.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

Something is nagging in his mind still. Something that whispers one unsatisfactory word over and over and over in his head.

Weak. Weak. Weak. You’re weak. Incredibly weak. Pathetic and weak. You’ve always been weak.

You seem to notice it too— “You’re still thinking,” you point out gently.

Tell me about it, is what you mean. Talk to me.

“I’m not sure if it’s possible for someone to ever stop thinking,” he replies smartly. “Well…I guess unless that someone is you.”

“Hey,” you huff, snatching away your bowl from him as he reaches for a few more berries. He’s smug—the deftness of his fingers makes for an easy grab at a good handful before you can properly create distance between him and your bowl. “Take that back. Now!”

“It’s a bit empty up here sometimes, don’t you think?” He pokes at your forehead, chuckling at the curl of dissatisfaction on your lips.

“Well, it’s better than having someone like you think too hard. That’s a bit dangerous,” you grumble.

He laughs. Momentarily, the voices quiet. “My quick thinking has helped out a good once or twice,” he points out, popping a few more berries into his mouth.

Sweet. Juicy like he remembers. He hasn’t had berries quite like these since his mother’s departure.

“Alright,” you roll your eyes half-heartedly, “I get it. You don’t want to talk about it.” He’s silent at that—you’re right. He doesn’t want to talk about it. But perhaps more importantly, he doesn’t quite know how to. “You know you can tell me anything, though. Right?”

Kinich doesn’t know exactly when this started. He started with a good day. Exceptional, even. Somehow, it got lost along the way.

First, you woke him up with a kiss—(really, he was awake already, but sometimes he likes to pretend to be asleep so your lips do the honors of breaking him from his slumber. A minor inconvenience of laying perfectly still for the hefty reward of your lips). Later, he landed a commission with a decent profit of mora. It went by fast enough that he could swing back home to grab you for lunch.

And that’s when it starts to all go downhill.

“Of course I do,” he answers instantly.

“Then tell me,” you pout.

I don’t know how, he wants to say. Instead, he settles with: “You know him. The guy we ran into.”

It comes out a tad bit grumpy against his will. He doesn’t completely understand what it is that makes him feel so unsettled—Kinich knows that in a fight, that man is practically a house of cards if he is the wind. And he’s strong; he knows that as much as he knows you do, too.

He still can’t shake the feeling of being so weak.

“Oh,” you tilt your head, “yes, he moved from Toyac Springs! He’s very nice, I like to help him find his way around here sometimes.”

“He gave you a hug,” Kinich points out blandly.

“He did,” you nod slowly, “he’s friendly, you know?”

“Friendly.” He tests the word on his tongue. He doesn’t like how it tastes. Like a bitter, unripe quenepa berry that’s been harvested too early.

His father tended to do that. Impatient and unyielding to reason is how he remembers his father to be, snatching berries from the vines against his mother’s insistence before spitting them out with an angry grunt.

Absolutely worthless, he’d remember hearing an angry voice spit. You can’t even grow a few decent berries.

They’re just not ready yet, his mother’s voice would waver.

Weak, he remembers feeling. Unable to stand up to his father. Unable to take care of his mother.

Oddly, it’s how he feels with you right now.

“His name is Hakau,” you say carefully, “and we’re friendly sometimes. It’s nothing like that, though.”

“Like what?”

“Kinich,” you sigh, “is everything okay?”

Something in your voice tells him you know everything is definitely not okay. But you want to hear it from him. You want the words from his mouth directly.

He doesn’t know how to give that to you. He doesn’t even know half of what he’s feeling—just that there’s a heavyweight in his throat that tastes and feels like lead when he swallows.

“Everything is fine,” he mumbles. “I just haven’t ever seen him, that’s all. I was curious.”

“And…that’s it?”

“I suppose so.”

“I don’t…” you pause, biting your lip as you study him for a moment before shifting to crawl on his lap, straddling his hips before your hands cup his cheeks. “I don’t think you’re telling me everything.”

“I don’t know what to tell,” he finally admits.

“You don’t like Hakau?” You ask gently.

“He talks a bit much,” he shrugs. “And he laughs a lot.”

“He’s a bit energetic,” you agree, smiling a little at his confession. “I guess he’s not for everyone.”

“But he is for you?” He raises an eyebrow.

Your face softens as you lean in and press a small kiss to his nose as you whisper, “I think you’re for me. Does that count?”

“You’ve never mentioned him,” he adds, refusing to meet your eyes.

“He’s not really the most important development in my life,” you chuckle, “I only see him here and there.”

Kinich is strong. Physically, he knows that. When it comes to fighting a war and hunting a saurian, he’s adept. Beyond that, all he knows to do is stand on the side and watch people he loves exit his life. Because he’s never enough.

Weak. It’s what he feels when someone like Hakau is able to smile brightly and pull you into a hug right before his eyes. When was the last time he hugged you under witnessing eyes?

Never, he thinks. He touches you in the privacy of your home where no one is there to witness the fact that he loves you.

Weak. It’s what he realizes he is when your eyes are bright and excited to see a man whose expression mirrors the same show of joy. When was the last time his face expressed that much affection for you?

He can only assume there hasn’t been a moment—not when his cold expression and distant eyes have been something he’s heard about time and time again.

Kinich is too weak at building love. He doesn’t know how to be a son who’s enough to be better for, to give up gambling and a few sips of alcohol. He doesn’t know how to be a son who’s worth staying for, who’s the reason every obstacle is worth fighting through—even when it comes in the form of a drunken slap or a slurred yell.

He doesn’t know how to be a man worthy of your love, either. Not one who can come and greet you with something as simple as a hug. Not one who can display his affection on his face from nothing but a bright grin alone.

He’s too weak for that. His heart is a muscle he’s never strengthened. His limbs are too frail to support carrying your heart in his hands, too—he’s never been worthy of your affections.

At least, that’s what his mind has always told him. He knows you’d disagree, but that’s only because your eye is trained to see only the good. You don’t look at him to search for the reasons you shouldn’t stay.

Maybe Hakau could easily be a reason you should leave, though.

“He hugged you pretty tightly,” he grumbles one last time. It’s a bit petty—you’re sweet enough that you giggle and let it slide.

“I think I see the problem,” your grin widens, “I think you’re just a bit jealous, is that it?”

“Jealous of what? His awful haircut?” He rolls his eyes.

Yes, he thinks deep down. Yes, he’s jealous. He’s jealous of the way joy comes easy to Hakau and the way it seems to roll off of him in waves at the sight of you. How easy it must be for him to love you and love you strongly. Not some weak, sorry excuse of affection that Kinich offers you loosely gripped in his inadequate fist.

You’re kind, though. Patient and gentle as your hands cradle his cheeks and force him to meet your gaze.

“There are reasons for everything, you know,” you murmur.

“You’re saying there’s a reason his hair is so ridiculous?” He asks incredulously.

You laugh, airy and bright as you roll your eyes. “No, silly. There’s a reason why I love you and don’t love him.”

“Like what?” He asks, feigning a casual tone. Please tell me, he thinks desperately.

“Like when you pretend to sleep so I kiss you awake,” you tease, kissing his jaw.

He pauses. “How did you—”

“Or when you spend your earnings after a long commission to take me out to lunch.”

“Anyone could do that—”

“Or when you force Ajaw to fly me up a mountain because I’m too scared to climb.”

“Technically Ajaw does the work there—”

“Or when you share your pillow with me when I come hog it.”

He cracks a small smile at that, letting out a short laugh as he mumbles, “You do hog my pillow a lot.”

“I can’t list all the reasons I love you,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth, “but I can’t come up with a single reason not to love you. I think that’s plenty.”

Kinich is strong. He’s able to support your weight when you lean into him more, settling most of your body onto his lap as you kiss him deeply. His fingers dig into your hips, guiding you closer as he groans into your mouth.

He loves you when you kiss him, and he loves you when he can feel your body nestled against his. It’s a strong, palpable feeling he can’t deny—and he’s starting to think you feel it from him when you smile into his lips as his hand cradles the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.

“I could tell you a couple of great reasons you wouldn’t love that weird guy.”

“His name is—”

“He talks too much. He laughs annoying. And his hair is weird.”

You giggle, burying your head into neck as you huff, “Those are all shallow reasons.”

“Okay,” he hums thoughtfully, “He doesn’t know you like I do.”

His hips roll up, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s a noticeable, sizable bulge in his pants that you can feel press against your core. He grins when you falter over him, strong arms wrapping around you and keeping you in place as he presses his own kisses to your jaw while you shiver.

“If you know me so well,” you say petulantly, “You know I hate when you tease.”

“But I actually know you better than that,” he chuckles lowly, “I know you fall apart nicer when you’re pushed around a bit, don’t you?”

His lips are back on yours, mouth warm and hungry as his tongue invades your space. It’s a brief battle—he wins and explores the parts of you he already has memorized by heart. You whine against him, damp and aching between your legs as a familiar tension builds up.

Your hips roll over his clothed cock, your cunt dragging along the erection with enough pressure that both of you pause for a moment and shiver. It feels good—it’s not enough to qualify as what you need from him, but it’s never not good with Kinich. You feel the pressure of his hard-on rubbing against your clit, and your hips roll in sync to build the light tingles of pleasure as your mouths kiss each other in a sloppy, messy exchange.

“I hate your friend,” he declares breathlessly.

“Don’t be jealous,” you tease, giving your hips a languid thrust to press harder against his cock. He groans, head falling to your shoulder as his hands grab your hips and guide your to rub against him the way he wants.

His way. He’s strong enough that you can’t fight against the pace he sets for you—not that you want to, anyway.

“I’m not jealous,” he grumbles in between moans, “I just don’t like the way he looks at you. He looks stupid.”

“I didn’t notice,” you say breathlessly, “I was too busy looking at you.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” He snorts.

You grind down against his cock once. Twice. The third time, he meets your movements, and both of you still, tense for a moment as the coil snaps and your walls flutter around nothing while his tip leaks with ropes of thick, warm cum that spoil his pants.

“F-fuck,” you whine, “Kinich.”

“So…so perfect,” he grunts, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

It’s needy—the way the both of you move desperately to feel the friction just a tiny bit longer to ride out the waves of your orgasms. You can feel the twitch of his cock through his pants as it dampens from the mess of cum, and he can feel the quiver of your cunt as he spams around nothing.

It’s not enough, but somehow it’s more than perfect, too. Because he’s him. Because it’s you.

“You’re supposed to fuck me properly when you’re feeling possessive,” you mumble against his chest.

He lets out an amused breath as he answers, “Yeah? Was that your plan all along?”

Kinich is strong. He flips you over easily, hovering over you as he nips at your pulse point. He can feel the erratic pace of it through the skin, earning a smug grin that his lips press into your neck.

You love him pretty strongly, he concludes—poor Hakau always stood the weakest chance.

Hakau is a random npc in the scions of the canopy im sorry for all this drama brother. You seem like a good guy I just needed someone to be the loser here for the sake of plot

[orshii]

Crashing Waves and Second Chances

☆ Summary: You’re enjoying a well-deserved vacation with your best friend after finishing college in Greece when you run into Wooyoung, your first love from high school. The unexpected encounter stirs up old feelings and unresolved issues from your past. As Wooyoung tries to explain and make sense of what happened between you, you’re faced with a choice: revisit the past and seek closure, or move forward and see if there’s a new possibility for your relationship. Will you let him explain and explore the chance for a fresh start?

☆ Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader ☆ Genre: fluff, angst, idiots in love ☆ Word count: 6,8 k

☆A/N: Waa this is my first Wooyoung ff and I'm crying. Wooyoung recently is so insane like?? I just love him and he reminded me he also exists next to my two biases :'(( But I'm back in my Wooyoung era again, yess!! And as I want to be in Greece I wrote this story, because I'm going feral staying home. And of course, because it's Greece I needed to include some Greek God references too haha. It is worth reading it till the end cause I kinda died. :D Also sorry for the mistakes I am still learning. Soo enjoy this little drabble hihi!! Byee! (divider)

The slight waves of the turquoise sea crashed along the sandy beach, sparkling from the sun beaming at its highest point. The sound of the waves lured me into a daze as the world's nestled sounds slowly disappeared. The sun burnt my skin like I was in the underworld, the sun being Hades himself, looking at me with hungry, burning eyes. But then a slight chill ran through my body as the summer breeze crawled through my skin, trying to cool down the heat I was feeling. Suddenly I felt like I was in heaven as I walked on the beach, the waves of the cool sea crashing against my foot, the wind blowing through my hair, through my white dress, as the sun slowly went down, creating a breathtakingly beautiful landscape as the sky was full of orange and red colours, the sea copying its beauty, making it look like the sky was never-ending, just as the sea.

Then I heard screaming.

And that was the moment when I opened my eyes quickly as something cold wetted me and I immediately sat up from the sunbed just to realize I was, in fact, next to the sea, but the screaming came from a little kid that just ran next to me and he just needed to get rid of the water dripping from his hair next to me. The next thing I noticed was me being as red as a crab because I fell asleep under the sun. Great, now I'm going to sleep on my back for a weak and look like half-cooked meat. I squinted from the pain as I wanted to stand up to get into the water to cool down at least.

My best friend next to me looked at me through her sunglasses a book in her hands and completely under the umbrella's shadow. She smirked at me enjoying my suffering.

"Thank you for waking me up to not burn into ashes," I said to her ironically as I squinted my eyes at her.

"You looked like you had a good dream, I just couldn't wake you up." He said acting innocent.

"Whatever, I'm going to drown in the sea," I said joking to her as she giggled at that.

"Be careful, you might get dragged down by Poseidon himself." My best friend shouted after me as I was walking towards the shore.

"I wish, dude, I wish." I turned back for a quick moment to say it to her with a smirk.

Then as I hit the water, I felt relieved because the cool water chilled my hot body and mind a little. I quickly went deeper into the sea, diving underwater just to open my eyes and look around the crystal-clear water, where I saw a few little fishes swimming around –actually swimming away from me because they were scared little shits—well I would be too if a shark would swim towards me that is no question.

The water was sparkling around me from the sand that flew upwards from the bottom of the sea, and as the sun beamed through the water it sparkled and I just lived for it, because it was so mesmerizing, I honestly could live as a mermaid, I would volunteer—

I swam around a little, cooling down so I could feel like a human again, I turned on my back and just floated on the water like garbage, pretending I was dead. Meanwhile, I thought about how I was waiting for this moment, to get away from the full-year pressure I was under, with my best friend, as we planned to get away from home for a vacation after we just graduated, leaving the stress and the pressure behind trying to figure out what is going to happen next. We just wanted to enjoy our little time together here and close out the responsibilities that came with us being unemployed as we finished college.

We decided we were going to travel to Greece, which was both of our favorite places on earth, because we felt like this place connected us, and a little piece of our hearts just felt like it was made from the soil of this landscape. We just felt a connection towards it, that pulled us towards this place. And let's not talk about the tell stories of the Gods, each of them beaming a uniqueness that didn't exist on this Earth. And when we finally arrived, we couldn't stop smiling, every stress and uneasiness leaving our souls just to feel a little relieved.

As I walked back to our sunbeds, where my best friend, Bora was sitting, still holding a book in front of her, being lost in the imaginary world, I glanced through the beach and my eyes immediately got caught on people surfing on the big waves of the crystal water, the waves making a tunnel where the professional surfers went through. I immediately got excited, wanting to try it, as I arrived at my best friend with an excited smile.

"People are surfing, look!" I pointed towards the shore, where two surfing tutors were standing, helping people out to try this sport. "And those tutors might be our next catch, just saying." I winked at her, to catch his attention, as she looked towards them with now an interested look. Her face looked like she was thinking, calculating if it was a good decision or not.

"Please?" I interlaced my hands and looked at her with puppy eyes. I always wanted to try out surfing, and this was the perfect occasion. And not for the tutors that I wanted to check closer, not at all—

Bora sighed. "Okay, let's go, surfing seems fun. And the two men there look interesting from the back." She smirked at me as I nodded in agreement as we collected our stuff and wore our flowery beach dresses.

We approached the spot, where the surfing boards with different kinds of designs were stuck into the sand and when I spotted a well-defined back with a tattoo on the nape, that was too familiar to me, I immediately regretted my decision of wanting to learn surfing.

But it was too late because before I could signal somehow to my best friend to turn around, the black-haired one with the tattoo, who wore only black swimming shorts, turned around and his eyes immediately landed on me.

And I just wanted to shout for Poseidon to drag me deep into the sea and make me his slave, because that was better than being here standing in front of my first love that broke my heart, and he didn't even know about it.

Well, he was my high school crush and I was head over heels for him, and he gave me signs that were so questionable, he made my little heart believe he wanted something from me as well. But in the end, he got together with a blonde girl with perfect red lips and a perfect body. So, eventually, I needed to let it go and get over him somehow that felt impossible. I managed to forget him with time as I didn't see him for years. But seeing him now still made my heart beat crazy like we were back in high school. And I hated it.

As he saw us approach, he nudged the person next to him, who had black hair with some blonde stripes in it, and he turned as well just to his eyes start to sparkle with excitement his lips in awe, seeing us. His dimples slightly showed from the smile he beamed at us, wearing light blue swimming shorts, his well-defined body on the sight.

They were standing there, waiting for us to approach, looking at us with different expressions. Song Mingi with pure happiness and Jung Wooyoung with wide eyes.

Jung Wooyoung the black haired and Song Mingi with the oreo hair, we were all classmates along with my bestie, Bora. The four of us were kind of inseparable. But when I started to feel more than friends towards Wooyoung, things got complicated and when we finished high school, we never saw each other. That was why some uneasy feelings swam back to me, when Bora hugged Mingi in excitement, their friendship ending just because both their best friends were fools, it wasn't fair, but this was a best friend's job after all, to be there for your best friend.

Then I just put aside all my thoughts about the past and hugged Mingi with a generous smile, I really missed Mingi, because he was like my brother back in high school. We had been friends since the beginning of school and with time Wooyoung and Bora joined us, but before them, it was just me and Mingi, we could speak about everything and anything, making us inseparable. But after what happened between the four of us it suddenly disappeared, the friendship we built through the years lost like it never existed.

When I hugged Wooyoung it wasn't sincere, I still hated him, for treating me like he did in the past, and it made me want to run away as quickly as possible.

"What are you guys doing here?" Bora asked as she hugged Wooyoung as well.

"We got a summer job here," Mingi spoke up as I avoided Wooyoung's gaze on me, focusing on Mingi only. "We are teaching people surfing and we are on a vacation at the same time, isn't it perfect?" Mingi said with excitement, his eyes shining from how sincere he was with his emotions that were always so obvious if you knew him sincerely.

"I didn't know you were into surfing," I said a little frowning, as I looked at Mingi as Wooyoung's presence still annoyed me.

"Well, we tried it out with Wooyoung for fun, and here we are, aren't we Woo?" He nudged Wooyoung with a smile, who was quiet the whole time, which was very unlike him, he just never shut up back then, and it was weird seeing him staying in silence. When Mingi nudged him a little that was when he caught up on himself and smiled back at Mingi.

"It's a vacation and we even get paid, is it heaven?" Wooyoung said as he chuckled, then looking towards us, well at me, with sharp foxlike eyes that I hated at that moment, but loved back then. "And you girls? On vacation?" He asked staring into my soul as I unwantedly looked through his still-handsome features, the unforgettable mole under his left eye, his wet hair a few strings falling into his eyes, making his gaze more intense, his bare torso on the sight, a new tattoo on his ribs that was a writing in another language.

"Yeah, we graduated and we are celebrating," I said shortly, with a fake smile as I averted my gaze from his handsome face. I hated how he made me lose my mind by only looking at him, after years of not seeing him.

"That's so nice, sometimes I regret that we missed out on college, it could have been wild," Mingi said as he chuckled looking at Wooyoung for a slight moment, who chuckled in agreement, then Mingi looked towards us again. "So did you want to learn how to surf or you just wanted to say hello?" Mingi asked curiously.

"Y/N wanted to try it out," Bora said quickly side-glancing at me with a knowing smile. I am going to kill her, so she can stay in Greece for the rest of her 'not' life.

I looked at her, somehow not too obviously telling her with my eyes that—I did not want to anymore.

Mingi clasped his hands together, "Cool, then you found the perfect men to teach you and it's even free for you girls." Mingi winked at us with a proud smile.

I wanted to back up, but I just couldn't be childish like that, to run away because my high school crush was in front of me years after, I wasn't like that…but I sincerely hated him at that moment.

With that Mingi started to explain the tactics of surfing, and firstly they showed us how to stand on the board on the dry so we would have at least a little knowledge of how to do it on water.

Meanwhile, Mingi taught Bora, next to them Wooyoung and I were standing as he explained to me how to hold the paddle, that beginners needed to use at first. I avoided his eyes in every moment I could. It was awkward and I counted the time so we could say goodbye to them and avoid them for the rest of the trip. But the education lasted a while, because we tried it out on the shallow water as well, sitting on the boards at first with the paddle and the first mission was to stand up, which I was struggling with at first but after countless fallings into the water I finally managed to stand up on the board.

Eventually, I had fun, I really did, because I put aside all my concerning thoughts and how I hated the man in front of me, who just sincerely tried to help me and catch me whenever I fell off the board. My emotions were a mixture of letting go of the past to start over and a mixture of not letting myself fall into his trap again.

But when I fell off the board again—because I celebrated my standing successfully on the board too hard—arms circled my waist to pull me up underwater, just to meet with two sharp eyes gazing at me with a smile, I lost against my own rules. It was just impossible not to fall into his trap when his wet hair fell damp on his forehead, his dimples showing from the curve of his lips, his chocolate brown eyes staring down at me, which looked almost orange from the sun shining at us. I just wanted to get away from him, because my heart started to beat fast, and I didn't want these feelings to eat me alive, it destroyed me and I didn't want that again. And as he smiled at me his face close to mine, where waterdrops fell to his chest, the thoughts of his girlfriend came back to me and that made my heart ache as I just felt overwhelmed by the fact, I nearly fell into his trap again.

So, after separating from him, I swam back to the seashore saying 'That was enough for today.' And I knew I seemed weird in their eyes, I knew my best friend also looked at me with questions in her eyes, but I just wanted to get away from there so I could breathe again normally.

My plan of avoiding them for the rest of the trip, seemed to completely fail because we just bumped into Wooyoung and Mingi every day. And we started to hang out together like in the old times. It was weird at first but after a little, I relaxed a bit and I didn't let my feelings fuck up my well-deserved vacation. So, I started to be there with them, to laugh with them and just enjoy our time together.

One evening, Mingi told us we should celebrate our graduation with some drinks, which seemed the best idea because we hadn't really drunk for our success with Bora, so we agreed immediately.

"So, how's it with Wooyoung?" Bora side-glanced at me while putting lipstick on her thin lips that was a strong red color standing in front of the mirror in our hotel room.

I scoffed at her. "Nothing? You know I sincerely hate him." I started looking at him quite sharply.

She looked at me from the reflection of the mirror as I stood next to my bed, thinking what should I wear. "C'mon, Y/N, it was a long time ago, just enjoy yourself," Bora said, closing the lipstick she used.

"I know, it's just…" I sat down on my bed staring down at my hands. "He still owes me some explanation of what happened in London and with everything, like I'm so confused from day one, Bora, it's insane how I can't forget what happened." I rambled to Bora as she turned around to look at me with concerned eyes.

She came next to me and sat beside me to caress my back. "Yea, it was so fucked-up, that whole trip was a disaster, and you really deserve an explanation of why he did that." She smiled at me genuinely, "And I'm sure Wooyoung wants to talk to you, he wanted to since we met with them, you just avoided him the whole time."

"Yes, because I can't fucking look into his eyes, without my old emotions coming to the surface and I hate it…" I looked into Bora's concerned eyes.

"Well, I think you two should talk, because it looks more complicated than it is." She said as she smiled, her eyes forming crescents.

I scoffed at that. "Just help me pick out an outfit." I leaned down towards my luggage which was a mess just like myself.

"So you could look pretty for Wooyoung?" He nudged me with his elbow, smirking as I hit his upper arm in response.

"I want to look pretty, for myself and not for others."

"Great, you should absolutely wear this," She pulled out a little black dress with a v-line and some ruffles on the end. "It's cute and sexy at the same time." She winked at me.

I rolled my eyes at her and ripped my dress out of her grip annoyed just so I could wear it. When I looked into the mirror as I was wearing the black dress, a confident, cute, and sexy girl stared back at me as Bora said. The dress reached a little above my knees, the v-line leaving my neck empty, so I put on a silver necklace with matching earrings. I left my hair to fall onto my shoulders naturally, the shorter strings of my hair falling into my eyes. As Bora stood next to me to check herself out as well, she looked gorgeous, she was wearing a tight purple dress, highlighting her perfect body line, and her black hair was in a tight bun with some silver earrings and rings. We looked hot and we were ready to gradually celebrate our graduation.

We arrived at the bar next to the pool that was lightened up with a few colorful led, that matched with the lights of the bar that was surrounded with tables and bar stools. It was already close to midnight as we were searching for the boys. Then Bora spotted them and we walked towards them between strange people, who enjoyed the free drinks as well in the perfect night weather.

When I spotted Wooyoung, who was standing next to a table with Mingi, drink already in hand, I just couldn't take my eyes off him, as my heart started to beat fast. He looked so handsome in his black shirt, the last two buttons undone, his sharp collarbones on the sight, paired with black denim shorts, that reached above his knees, his tattoo peaking a little that I just noticed he had, then my eyes landed back to his face, where his hair was wiped back a few strings falling onto his eyes, making his sharp gaze, more intense. His silver earrings hung low from his ears with a few piercings that matched with his silver necklace. He eyed me up and down very obviously with his intense gaze. And I just prayed for Poseidon to kidnap me, because it was hard to keep up, above water.

Mingi was standing next to him, wearing a bright purple shirt with blue denim shorts and a lot of accessories like necklaces, earrings, and a lot of silver rings. And we just needed to laugh because we unintentionally matched with each other, this was our dynamic, and it wasn't the first time.

As we started to drink a few cocktails and some shots the party started, the colorful lights making us disappear into the crowd that surrounded us. I danced with my hands held high jumping to the beat of the music as I felt free after an overwhelming year. The four of us were standing in a circle as we made a few silly dance moves laughing at each other. My eyes met with Wooyoung's a few times, which was a very big mistake because I felt his gaze on me the whole night the tension between us heavier and it made me uncomfortable because all of this was unfair.

So, I decided I needed more drinks and went to the bar counter to ask for a lighter cocktail and sat on the barstool until it got ready, watching the bartender in awe as he made the cocktail with some tricks.

Then suddenly I felt a hand on my waist and a strange black-haired man's face came in front of me. He was wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned his well-defined chest and abs in sight, his shoulders broad and a silver necklace ending with a cross on his popped-up chest, as he was wearing sunglasses, and I frowned.

"Am I blind or the sun is somewhere up above?" I asked the strange man in confusion as the alcohol made me feel woozy as I looked around.

The stranger chuckled at that and lifted the sunglasses to his forehead lifting his hair, making his undercut more visible. His sharp eyes were now on the sight, which reminded me of a cat. "Yes, it's up don't you see it? It's everywhere." He showed around with his hand to the lights that surrounded us and he plopped down to the barstool next to me. He smiled at me as his deep dimples showed and made his face more handsome.

I giggled at his statement and reached for my drink, sipping from it as I looked at the strange man.

"So, what does a pretty girl like you, do here alone drinking?" He leaned closer to my ear so I could understand what he said as the music was too loud.

"I'm with my friends, I just came for a drink." I pointed towards my friends, where my eyes immediately met with Wooyoung's, who was just standing there with folded arms, looking at us with killer eyes. It was my time to shine.

"Are they only your friends?" He asked with a knowing smile.

I just nodded.

The stranger hummed. "I'm Choi San." He leaned closer again and I barely heard what he said. "What's your name, pretty?" He looked deep into my eyes and suddenly I forgot my name.

"It's uh—Park Y/N." Finally, I could somehow stumble my name out as I reached my hand towards his to shake the handsome man's hands. And when he accepted it, he smiled at me and pulled me closer to him so he could whisper into my ear. "Will you dance with me, pretty?"

The alcohol swam around my body making my mind not to think at all, so I accepted his invite and I found myself dancing with a total stranger on my strange vacation where my high school crush shot daggers into the stranger's back.

As we danced along to the music, our bodies flushed together swaying our hips to the rhythm of the music, enjoying ourselves, suddenly we were separated by a hand that belonged to Jung Wooyoung himself, as he glared down at the stranger standing in front of him, they were the same height, but the expression on Wooyoung's face just made the stranger slightly smaller, as Wooyoung mumbled a few words to him that I couldn't expel. I only saw that San lifted his hands in surrender and grabbed Wooyoung's shoulder with one hand mumbling something back that seemed an apology. And with that, the stranger who looked like Ares himself just disappeared. And I looked after him wide-eyed, then at Wooyoung as I scoffed at him and turned around, trying to escape from the torturing crowd.

I felt angry at Wooyoung because what did he even think? Was it normal to send off a stranger that tried to just fucking dance with me? We were back when we were teenagers, back when I didn't understand anything he did, and it made me feel sick of him.

As I got out of the crowd, I just felt Wooyoung was following me with angry steps. And when he reached me, he grabbed my wrist and turned me around to angrily face him.

"Do not fucking run away from me!" He said as he yanked me closer to him, he looked pissed.

"What the hell did you think there?" I said with a sharp expression, trying to free my wrist from his grip, when I succeeded, I folded my arms in front of my chest. "Oh, I'm Jung Wooyoung, I should totally send this dude off, because he is flirting with her, and no one should touch her, only me. Even though I have a girlfriend." I started to ramble my thoughts out, as I gesticulated with my arms stressed.

"What are you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend." His expression changed from angry, to confused.

Words got stuck in my throat for a moment. "What about that blonde girl?" I asked confused.

He sighed, puffing air out of his lungs. "Nothing, she wasn't my girlfriend..."

 "Well…it doesn't matter. Let's just leave it." I said as I wanted to turn around.

"No, Y/N!" He grabbed my wrist again turning me around, not letting me go this time. "Stop this stubborn attitude and let's talk!" His voice raised as his face became a little impatient.

"I don't want to talk Wooyoung! We should have, a long time ago, but it's too late now because I'm so sick of your games, I can't do this Woo." I said as my voice became lower, whispering his nickname that I loved so much.

"What games are you talking about?" His grip on my wrist became a little stronger as he held my other hand in his hands pulling me closer to him. "You confuse me just as much as I do you," He whispered it close to my face.

I looked down at our hands, and I was thinking about the fact, of how much my younger self would have liked this situation. At that, my emotions suddenly hit me and I was just too tired for this conversation.

"I'm talking about London…" My voice was barely a whisper, as I still avoided his staring eyes.

He scoffed at that, letting my hands go as he ran his fingers through his raven-black hair in frustration. "London was messed up, we both made mistakes there."

I scoffed. "Yeah, whatever you say," I said giving up.

"No for fuck's sake, don't fucking do this, Y/N! You have no idea how much I had suffered because of you." He grabbed his hair stressed as he looked at me with an emotional expression.

I was too stunned to speak, my heart pumped blood into my ears as I barely heard what he said.

"If you—If you would have told me to stay…back in London, I would've Y/N! But you said nothing and let me go, it was all on you." He said stepping closer to me, his eyes watering.

I shook my head as I stepped back. "You can't fucking say that! You knew I liked you, Wooyoung, haven't I given you enough signs?" I raised my voice at him, losing my patience.

"No, you haven't! Because you were always with that fucker, Yunho and it seemed he was more important than me the whole trip." He lifted his hands shrugging his shoulders with a disappointed look.

I laughed at that, we both acted so childish and it made me feel sick. "You know what?" I stepped closer to him as I lifted my head his face close to mine. "It was a long time ago, let's just forget it. But one last thing." My eyes stared into his sharp eyes. "You can simply fuck off," I said as he looked stunned, and I turned around walking as fast as I could to disappear from there because I had enough of him.

My life was so easy after we finished high school, it was so easy without Wooyoung…too easy. But four years later he had to come into my life when all I wanted to do was to relax a little, but he had to knock on my door and step into my life again. What was the point of it? We did not belong to each other and I learned that a long time ago.

 It was 4 a.m. already as I was lying in my bed after I slammed our hotel room's door. My thoughts drowned me as I was just staring up at the white ceiling, Bora nowhere to be seen. I was thinking of the things Wooyoung said and remembered all the things that happened in London.

Well long story short—We travelled to London as a celebration of finishing high school. The things that happened there weren't a big deal thinking about it now, but back then as I was still young, life throwing out into the wild to experience the things that would make me stronger, to experience love and heartbreak at the same time, was unforgettable for a young girl.

It was our second day in London, and we went out to see the nightlife of the city. It was the four of us and a few classmates, who joined us for the night. And yes, Yunho was a good friend of mine and yes, I might happen to be with him a lot. But I was just trying to forget Wooyoung because I knew he did not return my feelings. As we got deeper into the night Wooyoung was by my side all night, holding my hand, and hugging me the whole time, and then the boys made a bet, where Wooyoung needed to kiss me out of the blue. And he did kiss me and he did tell me that he liked me, but I did not know what to do with that information as he was drunk and it might have been part of the bet.

That kiss was the best kiss of my life, it made my feelings grow deeper for him, he made me believe he felt the same, but on that night as we walked back to our hotel I unintentionally eavesdropped and heard that he did not like me it was just a bet. Then the next thing I saw was that he was kissing a girl from our classmates in front of his hotel room. And that broke me into pieces. From then I ignored Wooyoung the whole trip, not wanting to see him. Then thanks to my luck, he needed to go home sooner for some unknown reasons and I did not beg for him to stay, because I simply did not want to see him anymore.

As I was deep in my thoughts I heard the loud ping of my phone, which broke the silent bubble that embraced me. I checked my phone and it was an old group chat that I thought I was never going to see again. It was a group chat that the four of us used back then.

-Mango to 4 makes 1 team- Guys where are u??! We've been searching for u everywhere... Woo-woohoo sent a picture.

As I opened the group chat the picture that Wooyoung sent was of his hands that held a can of beer and the sea, as he was sitting on the beach, I assumed.

Mango Bro, what are you doing? Do you want to die? Woo-woohoo I'm with me, myself and I, we get along a lot. bahahahshbdwef Mango replying to Woo-woohoo Dude are u okay?? Woo-woohoo I wish the water would wash me away to Londonn. Y/n-ooo If you depart now, you might get there by the morning. Borie Guys, are we really stuck in the London situation? Woo-woohoo I don't even know what I did there... Y/n-ooo Breaking my heart? Woo-woohoo ??? Can we talk Y/n? Please... Mango These two should be locked into a dirty cell in the middle of the Pacific Ocean...istg, get your shit together you creatures!!

I sighed as I just realized I couldn't just ignore the things just because he broke my heart years ago, I was too stuck in the past that didn't even make sense.

Then another chat popped up on my screen.

Woonderland sent you a voice message.

"Y/n c'mooon, let's talk, I have no idea what I did in London but I'm sure I can explain…like the night I kissed you was the best kiss of my life and I was so glad the boys made that bet…how could someone so beautiful like you, like me, a boy who was so over himself, I couldn't believe that, I was confused, I was young and I didn't know anything about love…oh my God what am I even saying…I'mma just drown in the sea, see ya, u know like the sea. Hah, that was a nice joke."  His voice stumbled the whole time I assumed he was drunk as a skunk. His words did not make much sense. I needed to find him and clear things up.

Y/nnie Where are you?

As I was walking on the beach the waves of the turquoise sea crushed against my foot, the water felt warm against my skin as my foot sank into the soft sand leaving footprints behind me, that the water washed away immediately. The wind blew on my white dress that I changed into, the sun was slowly rising from the other side of the sea, still painting it red and orange, creating a breathtaking view of the sea.

Suddenly I felt peace as my dream popped up in my mind, where I was walking on the beach. It was the same feeling, but it wasn't a dream, there weren't any kids that could wake me up screaming next to me. I was heading towards a drunken Wooyoung that I would've never imagined because if somebody had said to me, I am going to meet with my first love who broke my heart, and I was on my way to forgiving him, I would've laughed at their face in a blink of an eye.

Then I spotted Wooyoung, who was sitting on the seashore his legs pulled up to his chest a can of beer in his hands as he was staring into the infinity of the bluish sea in the twinkle of the sunrise.

As I approached him, I sat down on the soft sand next to him folding my legs under me, and stared in front of me, mimicking Wooyoung. We sat in a comfortable silence then he reached the can towards me that I took and gulped from it, the beer left a bitter taste in my mouth that went down to my stomach, leaving an emptiness on the way.

Then I just couldn't hold back anymore and I tilted my head towards him to look at his sharp side profile, he looked like Aphrodite's son, who got banned from Olympus because he was too reckless. His jawline was as sharp as Mount Olympus, his sharp eyes gazing at the sea where Poseidon was waiting for us, the sun slowly getting up as Hades cursed our blooming connection.

"So, what happened in London, from your point of view?" I broke the comfortable silence that embraced us, breaking the peace to make peace again.

He slowly turned towards me, as his eye with the mole under was now visible, which made him look more like a God. Then he broke the eye contact and stared down at his hands, fiddling with them.

"Well, when we kissed, I told you I liked you. But you did not say anything to that. It made me believe you didn't feel the same as me, so I just gave up…I just simply gave up, because I was an asshole." His voice stumbled as he explained the situation.

"I saw you kissing that girl," I said as I averted my gaze from his face towards the sea.

He looked at me wide-eyed, as he face-palmed himself. "Fuck, I was so stupid…I did kiss her, but only because I wanted to make sure it wasn't just a fling, I wanted to know if I only imagined the sparkle with you…" I felt as if he looked at me, trying to find out what I was thinking. "But then, you ignored me the whole time…which I understand now."

I just hummed. "Can we just forget the past and start over? I'm sick of this push-and-pull game we are playing…we were just two idiots…" I looked up at him with sincere emotions as he was closer than before.

"Two idiots in love?" He beamed a sincere smile at me, as his dimples were showing, making his features more handsome. And we were just staring at each other like we saw each other for the first time. We really did start it with a clean slate.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered with so much emotion in his eyes as he leaned closer to my face his breath warming more my already blushed cheeks.

I giggled at his compliment trying to hide behind my hands.

"Hey, hey, don't you dare to hide from me." He caught my wrist taking them away from my face with a smile.

Suddenly I stood up. "No, no. I'mma just go drown in the sea, I might get a lover there." I started to walk towards the sea with a smile. Then as I looked behind my back all I saw was Wooyoung getting up from the ground and running towards me.

"Not without me." He shouted as he tried to catch me. I screamed from excitement as I was running from him, nearly waking up the whole hotel. When Wooyoung caught me, he lifted me and held me on his shoulders as my head swung towards the ground. I screamed as I saw the world upwards and he started to run towards the sea crashing into the chill waves, wetting us immediately, as he finally took me down deep in the water that reached both our chins. Both of us were laughing as I started to splash him with the surprisingly warm water, our clothes long soaked as we did not care about that. The beach was echoing with splashing water and our sincere laughter, the shore was nearly empty because of the early hour as the sun just had risen, with only a few people lurking around to watch the sunrise.

As I got a little away from Wooyoung in the little splashing war we had created, he suddenly started to swim towards me and when he reached me, he caught my waist underwater, his hands encircling me, holding me strong, then he suddenly brought the both of us underwater, as we were sinking down towards the bottom, slowly opening our eyes to look at each other's mesmerizing features, both of us looking like Poseidon's stunning creatures, with our hairs flowing around us like a crown. The water sparkled around us with the sun shining above us. When we ran out of oxygen, we swam above water, just to Wooyoung pull me up close to his wet body, I naturally wrapped my legs around his waist, as his hands travelled under my thighs holding me close to him. My arms did the same as I was staring into his foxlike eyes, the waterdrops on his features perfectly slipping from his face to be one with the water that embraced us. The shirt that was glued to his skin, made his collarbone and chest peak out, where a black necklace was hanging with a moon. As my eyes found their way to his lips, I couldn't avert my gaze from his perfect red lips, salty waterdrops highlighting the mole on the bottom of his lips. My eyes met his, where desire burned with a passion that came from hell, making him look like Hades and Eros the God of carnal love.

And when his lips met mine as he held me close to him in the blue sea where we were floating like two paper-made ships, I felt like I could drown in the sea, because as his lips moved against mine, I felt like all the Gods kissed me at once, it was passionate and full of lust that made us whole again. My fingers crawled into his wet hair while we kissed pulling at it slightly as he moaned into my lips, at that my tongue found its way into his mouth discovering all the hidden places. When he got his senses back a little his tongue tangled with mine, fighting for dominance, as his hands lifted me a little to find their way on my ass as he pulled me impossibly closer to him, the water splashing between us.

When we separated after an eternity our foreheads met and we stared into each other's eyes with joy, the waking sun beaming at us from above, painting us with colors of yellow and orange that made the both of us look like a God and Goddess that could rule the world together rewarding the good and punishing the bad.

A/N: I might write Bora's and Mingi's stories as well because they aren't just old friends, they also have a complicated story. :PP

(Ateez masterlist)

[vqnrouged]

𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : the canaries (mithrun, pattadol, fleki, lycion)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : the canaries with a reader that’s scared of thunder

𝐚/𝐧 : if you understand the reference in the title, i love you. but anyways, it’s a crime that there’s barely any content for the canaries so i wrote some hcs/short scenarios for some of them! sorry if this seems occ, it’s my first time writing for them. anyways, hope y’all enjoy <3

↳ 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐔𝐍

• | with pre-ending mithrun, you will have to be the brave one and come to him instead. he won’t exactly reassure the grip you have on his arm, but he will still sit with you til the thunder stops.

• | however, with post-ending mithrun you will receive a comforting embrace. since he now has the desire to pursue his wants, he will try his best to calm you down… in his own way. he isn’t always the best at figuring out what exactly you’re feeling at times despite how observant he can be, so figuring out a way to comfort you proves to be difficult. so the only way he knows how to show you how much he cares is through physical touch…

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

as your body began to cower deeper and deeper into the bed, mithrun finally made his move to calm you down. from his spot at his desk, he pushed the chair back under the table and strolled right over to the bed. he was careful with lifting the covers of the bed up as to not startle you, then slid quietly underneath the covers next to you.

apparently, you didn’t even notice him slipping under the covers until you felt his head lay softly on your stomach. your hands still kept their places over your eyes, but with the new feeling on your body, you let out a surprised gasp. “huh, mithrun?”

at this point, he began to close his eye at the comfort you radiated. the feeling wasn’t making him become sleepy, but rather relaxed because of your warmth. “you’re afraid, right?”

with a raised brow and eyes filled with confusion, you peaked between your fingers to look at mithrun. “yes?”

his eye remained closed as he became more comfortable in the bed, snuggling deeper into your side like a cat begging for more attention. “then let’s stay like this til the storm is over.”

a fond smile appeared on your face at the elf’s sweet actions, having not seen them that often. though, you were beginning to see more and more of this side of him. it was nice.

↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐋

• | pattadol is fast to provide you comfort when you’re afraid, with her quick thinking she always comes up with multiple ideas that she could use to help you calm down. but this isn’t without her own panic as well, her worry that she won’t be able to help you makes her more scared than you are yourself. brewing a fresh pot of tea, covering your ears to drown the sound out, or even having you wrapped up in a blanket burrito are all lengths she would go to so you can feel safe. but despite all of these futile ideas, there’s one idea that she has left…

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

pattadol’s attempts to calm your hurried breathing were proving to be fruitless, the fear you were feeling wasn’t going to go away any time soon. she could only watch as you stood next to her, shaking uncontrollably while her mind couldn’t make a move to help you. just that thought alone was enough to make her afraid for you, then something finally came to mind.

with a wobbly smile, pattadol turned to look you directly in the eye. she placed a hand on your shoulder to grab your attention then began to slowly guide you to the couch. “here, [name], get comfortable while i grab a bigger blanket. i��ll be back in just a second. i promise.”

after a short while, pattadol came running back in the living room and to your side, blanket in hand. the feeling of worry began to dissipate once she sat down next to you, threw the blanket overtop the both of your bodies, and pulled you close. she made sure that your head was laid right on top of her chest while her other hand was placed on top of your ear, so this way instead of thunder, it was only her heart beat that you could hear.

what made it even better was that pattadol was cozy and warm, the feeling made you want to fall right into a nice nap. however, the elf holding you was still worried about your well-being. with her brows furrowed, she looked down at you and spoke softly. “are you feeling better? does this help?”

you could only mutter a small “yes” before your breathing became steady and your body became totally limp against pattadol.

with that, the elf smiled at her victory. she had gotten you to calm down and finally take a much needed rest. panic like that can’t be good for the body, she thought. but at least she had been able to help you. “good. the storm should subside soon, so until then please rest.”

↳ 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐈

• | fleki doesn’t usually pay much attention to the storms that occur so thunder and lightening don’t frighten her that much, but once she see’s how afraid you get she takes them a bit more seriously. she’s not the best at distracting you but she tries her best, she even offered you some of her “shrooms” one time because she ran out of ideas…

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

you looked down at your girlfriends hands, a grimace of disgust overtaking your once fearful frown. reaching one hand out from your blanket cocoon, you gently pushed her hand away. “fleks, i don’t want drugs.”

fleki’s lips turned down into a pout. a part of her was frustrated with you for denying all of her ideas, but the other was plain frustrated with herself. she wish she had better ideas to actually help you rather than being a goof instead, so much for being a decent girlfriend.

with a sigh, she got up from her place on the floor and dramatically stretched her arms up above her head. as she was doing so, she turned to look at you. “well if you don’t want that… c’mon, sweets. let’s play a game to take your mind off things.”, then she walked over to your game shelf to look over your options.

her nonchalant attitude is what made you nervous, that was the way fleki always was but then again she was always unpredictable. so with a hesitant move, you began to crawl out of your blanket to see what exactly she was grabbing. “what kind of game, fleks?”

with a quick spin, she flashed you a deck of cards. “go fish!”, she exclaimed triumphantly.

you raised a brow at her enthusiasm, your nervousness leaving you completely along with it. why was she so excited about go fish? you don’t exactly know. but regardless, you took your place at the table across from where your girlfriend would be sitting. along with you came your blanket for warmth, which you wrapped tightly around you as fleki sat across from you.

with a quick shuffle of the cards, fleki began dealing the cards to the both of you. the game started out slow, but the two of you quickly became competitive and shit talked each other for laughs as the game went on. you were beginning to be distracted from the storm, which was exactly what fleki was aiming for.

in the end, it was she who won the game as well. what you hadn’t known the entire game until she revealed it to you, was that she had hidden a card to ensure her victory. all’s fair in love and war, she said. and oh was this definitely war. “aw crud, you seriously had a five? hiding a card under you is cheating, y’know?”

she let out a loud laugh at your comment, smiling smugly at you. “hah! you’re beginning to sound like pattadol now!”

you couldn’t help but shutter out a laugh at the comparison to the canary, “hey!”

seeing now that you were truly having fun, fleki’s spirits were being lifted again. the victorious grin she bore turned into a softer one, glad that she had achieved something good for you. “let’s go again! we’ll see if you can win this time!”

↳ 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐍

• | he notices pretty quickly that you’re scared of the booming noises outside due to the way your eyes widened with fear at the first rumble. he doesn’t want to leave you alone while your trembling like this, but he will leave you for a moment to make sure the curtains of your windows are closed so you can’t see the lightening either. once he returns, he’s making sure you stay close to him so you feel safer. just like pattadol, he will cover your ears to help drown out the noise as well. and if that idea doesn’t work, he’ll change into his beast form so you can pet him…

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“are you sure this is okay?”, you whispered. your boyfriend had taken his place between your legs, resting his head comfortably on your chest so you could easily reach his fluffy fur. his arms also had wrapped themselves around your waist, acting as a blanket. with the way his body was now, there was no way you were getting up. at least, not for awhile.

lycion didn’t have any complaints about that fact, he loves to cuddle you. though, he never did so with you in his beast form before. it never really crossed his mind before, but the sight of you afraid made him have to think outside of the box. now what he was worried about was making sure you remained calm. “‘course, why wouldn’t it be?”

you looked to the side. it wasn’t that this form that bothered you, no, he was beautiful. but the thought that he may have felt like he had to didn’t sit right with you. “i don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

he waved a hand at you, dismissing the thought. then he nuzzled his head deeper into your chest, signaling you that he wanted you to pet him. so with a gentle hand, you began running your fingers through his hair along with giving him a few head scratches. “please, pet me all you’d like. and maybe tell me about your day out with that half-elf girl, marcille, was it? i’d like to hear more about all the fun you had.”

so you began rambling on about your outing with marcille, not missing a single detail. how you had a run in with rin from kabru’s party, going to a new restaurant the both of you wanted to try, and all the shops you got to go to. hearing how your day went, he was almost jealous that he didn’t get to be there with you because of his duties.

as you finished your story, you began to focus on the man in your arms and how cute he was. his eyes were closed just at your touch, if he was a cat, he would definitely be purring. it was so domestic and sweet, your body was beginning to feel tired from the warmth surrounding you. “you’re pretty soft, lycion.”

he laughed a bit at your statement, “why thank you, love.”

then the room went silent, but not without the sounds of the storm still outside. lycion could hear that your heartbeat had slowed down, then he glanced up to get a look at your face. and lo and behold, you were fast asleep with your hand still resting on his head. his eyes widened at the sight, surprised that you fell asleep so quickly, “they fell right asleep, huh?”

but he relaxed against you as he was before, loving the affection he was getting. “gotta say, this ain’t bad.”

“sweet dreams, [name].”

@𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 - please do not translate or copy my works.

𝐚/𝐧 : if you’d like a pt. 2 with laio’s party, lemme know!

[crustyfloor]

FUCK THEM UPPPPPPP TILL OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD

The visuals of Till's splash art (in my humble opinion, the best one so far) is STUNNING. AND very interesting.

For Till specifically to cover All-In is an interesting message to give off, All-In is a song about freedom. A type of freedom that allows you to live confidently and freely, creating whatever type of world you want, the stage is yours, so make what you want of it. living confidently in YOUR OWN SKIN. And living freely "cause you only got one life to live"

Freedom is something Till fights for relentlessly, and confidence is a bravado, as by far the most uncontrolled and tested person in the cast, he still fights for his boundaries and self-expression even when he's punished, molded into something he's not, or beaten into obedience, tested far past the limit; he never loses his bite. A wild dog can never be tamed.

This is the cover that follows what becomes of Till after round 6, and still, in Till's all-in, he sounds so raw, pained, energized, and passionate desperation is evident. It's a contrast from HyunA's celebratory cheers and upbeat mood because Till isn't celebrating the idea of freedom; he's angrily proving to everyone, especially the aliens, that he isn't backing down yet and he'll still keep fighting and that he can fight for his own freedom.

Till's cover of All-in is truly the most powerful depiction of Till's fighting spirit, after everything he's gone through, the pain, the grief. It's all in his voice and the way he sings he's pained the entire time he sings and he's aggressive because the fire of his spirit is lit once again. He's going "all-in" so to speak and expressing himself.

The tape around his neck--

It's a contrast to HyunA who doesn't mind showing her brand, even proudly showing it off as a form of reclaiming her individualism.

Till is different. Because being reminded that he is and was once a pet is not something he would want to remember about himself, he will always bitterly try to distance himself from that fact in any way he can, HyunA feels free from the system when she can own it, but when Till sees his branding, he'll still always feel that collar. It's a testament to his self-deprecation, as long as the evidence of his past is present, and he still feels all the pain the aliens inflicted on him, It'd be presumptuous to think he'd ever feel like he can relate and fit in with the other "fools" who are so free.

It'd be presumptuous to think he'd ever feel free. That's what the aliens wanted, right?

Another interesting part of this is that the name 'All-in" is actually a real-life poker reference, to go "all-in" in poker is to voluntarily bet all of your remaining chips, there is nothing else you can do but hope for the best after that point (and hope you win).

When HyunA sings All-in, she deceives you into thinking she has the upper hand or good hand, and that she will win. When Till sings it, he's giving it all away recklessly, he's showing all he has. Basically, him saying fuck it. he doesn't know if he'll win or not but says, "Let's go all-in and risk it all anyways" Even if internally he knows that this is stupid and risky, this is his foolish rebellion.

At this point he has nothing to lose and nothing to gain, it's his final stand as he lets his heart out not for the crowd, but for the family he lost, himself, a form of self-expression. He will be so nervous, so aggrieved but it's the freest he will ever feel on that stage.

The color symbolism also drives me CRAZY.

For his other two splash art, he's been represented with a color close enough to teal. In both songs, he's open when he sings and fully serene. Teal is a generally calming color, and it's not too evocative. It's more emotional (and has it's own reservations)

And then, we have green, which is a general symbol of growth, new beginnings, and freshness. After all, Till has been through all-in is a sign of his growth. And a new era of his life, or in other words a sudden tonal shift from his depressive state in round 6.

And for my favorite (it's not.) part! the head shot, (interesting how his has nearly the biggest impact out of them all.)

A bit of a theory.

It's a bit similar to one particular art of him, he has a little shape that's almost akin to impact from a gunshot near the same area.

So, I think this is tell-tale symbolism for a future injury, but the gun portrayed is a bubble gun. I believe it is symbolism for the wound being non-fatal, so even if Till loses and gets shot, he'll survive, fundamentally changed. and will probably join the rebellion, too.

/side note

The heartbeats in Till's version of all-in are faster and louder than HyunA's version, similar to CURE.

[lunarw0rks]

Hi! Is it possible to get an imagine where Ghost accidently walks in on reader changing (they're together and reader doesn't mind) but Ghost kinda freaks out and insists he can wait outside until they're done. I feel like with his past he'd constantly worry about invading people's privacy/violating them in anyway, so maybe just some fluffy reassuring him that he's ok and he makes reader feel safe? Sorry if that's a lot 🫶

༄ Poise | Simon Riley

Warning(s): !!brief references to ghost's trauma/SA!!, established relationship, mentions of sex/nudity, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, gn!reader

₊˚ෆˎˊ˗ Word Count: 1.2k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ- ♡‧₊˚✧˖ 「 AO3 VER. 」 A/N: Tried my best to handle this topic respectfully. Definitely an underused, under-discussed part of Ghost's character.

Simon Riley was a complicated man, to say the least.

But he never intended to let his complications rub off on you — no matter how much suffering he voicelessly endured to ensure that.

Whether it was weeks into the relationship or months, his walls were still standing tall. Certain things: he just couldn't do with you. Reviewing old photographs of himself, going to a park where children run joyously with their parents, nor could he do anything to invade your privacy.

To you, your involvement with him was at a pivotal point. Where there wasn't a need to be bashful around the other and withhold the petty grievances.

Though, Simon's skeletons were anything but quaint.

There was weight to them; weight you only bore a measly tinge of. He never told you details, only bits and pieces of what he had been through. Those serious talks were scarce and short-lived — forgettable, even, if it weren't for the woeful nature of his past memories.

『 ♡ 』 • 『 ♡ 』 • 『 ♡ 』 • 『 ♡ 』

Per usual, he had gotten up long before you. It was a typical sight; laying in the empty bed unsure if Simon was even home, because of his default stealth. Even though you knew he wasn't beside you, your fingers outstretched to his side, palming the sheets that had gone cold in his absence.

With a drowsy sigh, you peeled back the plush comforter, revealing the remnants of the lustful night before. Or, the lack of remnants, considering you were still rid of your clothes.

Through the curtains, the risen sun engulfed the shared bedroom, illuminating its lackluster decor — at least on his portion of it. Little decor, no pictures or clutter out, clothes folded and hung neatly as he would with his uniforms on base.

After a few minutes of gathering your strength, you climbed out of bed and approached the dresser, giving your fatigued eyes a rub. You dug through the clothing piles until you found an outfit suitable for a slothful day in with him.

You set the pickings on the edge of the bed. Following, you were slipping into a fresh pair of undergarments, listening intuitively for any sound of your lover, which wasn't an easy task.

Simon ambled up the staircase, on his way to the ensuite washroom to retrieve the watch he took off to shower. In his mind, you were still fast asleep, especially after last night. His fingers clamped around the knob, opening it with slowness.

In a matter of seconds, he was poisoned with a sensation of unbearable discomfort, as well as disgust towards himself. Seeing you, nude and vulnerable rather than slumbering in the bed.

"Shit, I'm sorry, love." Unlike before, he handled the door with haste — closing it like he had just walked in on a stranger.

Your mouth remained slightly agape with bafflement, paired with a feeling of unease for him. You were only changing, and it wasn't the first time he had seen you undressed. This wasn't a little hiccup in the day, nor an off-beat moment that you could laugh at later on.

Something gravely upset him, and it wasn't your bare skin.

Quicker than before, you changed into the remainder of your outfit. As well as fixing up the rest of your appearance; an excuse to figure out how to approach the subject.

You exited the bedroom, giving the door a gentle close. No sign of Simon down the hall, not in the living room, either. You checked the office next, finding nothing but another uninhabited space. Lastly, you crept through the kitchen with wary arms folded across your chest.

Then, you caught a glimpse of Simon's unstirring silhouette through the window. Slouched while sitting on the steps of the deck; a thousand-mile stare into the garden.

He didn't flinch when the patio door shut behind him, not even when you sat beside him on the steps.

"This isn't about me being naked, is it?" You spoke into the crisp mid-morning air, feeling the unforgiving bite of it overwhelm your exposed skin and lips.

Simon scoffed at your poor attempt to lighten the bleak mood, giving you a brief glance. If only things— if only he were that uncomplicated. "No, it's not you. Nothing like that."

You nod your head, trusting that his blunt nature wouldn't allow him to stifle a thing as serious as that. If he truly wasn't attracted to you or your frame, you wouldn't be resting your head on his shoulder.

For a few minutes; the conversation stopped. Only the occasional passing car in the distance or an animal or insect chirping. The leaves blew gently, until the breeze eventually found the both of you, sending a bitter, unforgiving autumn wind.

The silence was fine; it was common with him. But it wasn't fine when you knew he was swallowed by sorrowful thoughts.

"Can I..." You began, still keeping your head pressed firmly against his solid shoulder. "Can I ask what's wrong? Why you wouldn't stay in the room?" Asking what happened was too far, and you were already walking a narrow line. He wouldn't hold it against you if you got too invasive, but that wasn't a chance you wanted to even consider.

Simon's flashbacks hadn't ceased for a minute. Not since he shut the bedroom door behind him and sat out here.

The worst part? None of it was your fault. It had nothing to do with your bare skin, not even him catching a glimpse of it. His inner voice had him convinced he overstepped; that he made you feel used and violated by proxy.

He sighed heavily, saying a thousand words with a mere exhale. "Things you don't need to hear, sweetheart. Trust me on that." That was one way of putting it lightly, considering the gravity of what he had endured years ago.

"Listen, Simon," your fingers roamed along his shoulders, caressing down his back, careful to avoid the scars he didn't want you to touch. "I feel the pain you walk around with, I do. Every moment we're together, it doesn't rest."

He nodded his head slowly, closing his eyes for a moment to absorb the bleed of your words. You weren't sugarcoating the rawness of how his past affected you, nor were you judging him for it.

"But you didn't hurt me, alright? You did nothing wrong." Your voice couldn't have reached deeper. The tightening of his chest had uncoiled a bit, soothing his silent episode of derealization.

Simon's shaky fingers found your cheek, caressing against your chilled flesh with a tender firmness, "don't think I deserve you and that bleeding heart."

Your brows knitted with benevolence, returning the same gloomy gaze his amber eyes were emitting. Following his words, you shook your head, gripping his wrists gently.

"You do deserve it," you retorted gently, "nobody makes me feel safe like you do." You had never said something more truthful. He really did make you feel safe, in every sense. Intimately, romantically, even just as another human being you decided to spend your time with.

"C'mere." Simon murmured, shortly before nudging your head in the direction of his lap, allowing you to lay against him completely.

Whether he believed you or not, that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he hit the jackpot with you. Someone who didn't tip the scale, who didn't need to be privy to his every sorrow.

You were there purely to be there for him, expectant of no rewards or praises — though Simon would definitely give them soon enough.

In his own, deeply complicated, way.

[lissa612]

Can someone point me to where in 9-1-1 canon it is shown that Buck thinks of “Evan” as a separate identity or a version of himself he escaped?

Because we’ve got Buck 1.0 that’s been clearly mentioned in the past as a persona he’s outgrown, but I can’t remember him ever saying anything like “That was Evan…This is Buck.” He started going by Buck because it was convenient. He liked it and perhaps considered it a fresh start along with the career he found to finally be his calling, so he kept the nickname…But even the reasoning there is speculation because I can’t recall him ever saying anything more than “Everyone calls me Buck now. I kinda like it.” But there were still people who would call him Evan. His girlfriend, his sister, his best friend when he wanted to make sure he was hearing him, and his therapist (who honestly should be the most mindful of his comfort with mode of address) just off the top of my head. The only time he seems upset when called Evan was when his parents did it after he apparently asked him to call him Buck…That seems to be more about them ignoring his wishes than any sort of visceral rejection of the name itself.

I keep seeing chatter about how it’s disrespectful of Tommy to be calling him Evan. But I can’t find anything in actual canon to back that up. You can head canon that Tommy ignored Buck when he introduced himself like “I’m Evan Buckley - Call me Buck” but that never happened. You can just as easily head canon that Buck blushed and told Tommy that he likes how he says “Evan” when Tommy catches that everyone else calls him Buck and tries to correct himself. I’d argue that one of those head canons fits better with actual canon, but there are arguments for both…Neither is absolutely wrong.

So you can totally head canon that Tommy is someone who ignored Buck’s wishes to be called Buck. But then you also have to head canon that Buck, despite all the progress he has made through the years, is someone who would actively pursue someone who has shown they ignore his wishes - Something we have seen in canon to be a boundary for him. Which is fine if you want to do that…Head canons allow for all kinds of freedom in interpretation. But it’s not canonical fact.

Buck has historically disassociated with parts of his past self with his software upgrades from Buck 1.0, but when was the last time he did that? Buck 3.0 was back in season 4. He’s grown and changed a lot since then without needing to proclaim himself to be Buck 4.0. But beyond that, he’s never proclaimed there to have been an early beta version of the software called “Evan”. Really the only thing we know was upgraded between Buck 1.0 and Buck 2.0 was how Buck handled sex and relationships. Was “Evan” the base code in Buck 1.0? If so, has the code changed so much to have erased that? (Again, there’s nothing explicit in canon, so we can head canon that all day).

Bobby noted at the end of the season how much growth he has seen in Buck. I don’t think anyone who has watched the show could argue against the truth of that statement.

That is canon.

But you can ponder on it and come up with head canon…Perhaps what we are seeing is a more self-actualized version of Buck who doesn’t need to think of any progress he’s made in terms of upgrades because the therapy has finally made him realize he is all of those versions of himself and they are all him - He is the result of everything he has experienced and everything he has done and every decision he has made, and who he is will keep constantly evolving with every new experience and decision.

Regardless, Evan Buckley is Buck. And he is Mr Buckley. And he’s Firefighter Buckley. And he’s Buckley. And he’s Evan.

Unless he’s told someone to NOT refer to him as one of those names and they do anyway, they aren’t showing any disrespect by referring to him in any of those ways. We have examples in canon of that happening. We also have examples of viewers seemingly deciding it happened without canonical basis.

That’s a head canon. Have fun with it but remember to not force it onto others.

[undertheopensky]

Forging Tired

Whumptober Day 26: Working To Exhaustion

Characters: Four, Blue, Sky

Trigger warnings: None

Read on Ao3!

---

Sky doesn’t realise it until after dinner, but Four hasn’t banked the forge fires.

“I’m not done yet,” Four waves at the admittedly intimidating pile of repair work yet to be done. A couple of plates from Time’s armour probably need to be replaced entirely, they have such large holes in them.

“It’s getting real late. Don’t stay up too much longer, you need to get some sleep.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Body’s not tired.” Four flexes one arm and gives him a grin that looks so much like Wind Sky’s eyes cross.

“Maybe not,” they sure hadn’t done much physical stuff today, just run around the village resupplying and gathering information, “but your brain still needs rest.”

This time Four snorts. “The brain is fast asleep, but that’s okay, we don’t need it for this.”

No one asks any more why Four sometimes refers to himself in the third person or plural. At best, he’ll pretend you didn’t say anything, and at worst, he’ll look at you like you’re the strange one. The closest they’ve gotten to an explanation is an offhanded, sympathetic “Yeah, we get it,” when Time first told them to stop asking about his timekeeping, because it was a holdover from a quest too traumatic to describe.

So, slightly weird, probably a Quest Thing, doesn’t seem to affect him day-to-day.

That said Sky’s a little concerned about him working with hot metal with his brain asleep.

“Are you sure? We can wait another day or two before setting out, I’m sure Time won’t mind. We don’t want you exhausting yourself over this.”

Four makes a rude noise, which is out of character enough Sky blinks. “I think I know my limits well enough, featherhead. Besides, forging’s not that hard. I wanna take advantage of actually having all my damn equipment for once, and goddess knows we probably won’t be here long. Our shit needs a lot of maintenance done. Don’t worry about the noise. The forge’s been soundproofed since we were little. Go away and sleep, featherhead, you need it more than us.”

He shoos Sky from the forge, polite but implacably firm.

Sky can’t exactly argue. Four is the smith here, and he knows himself best. If he says it’s fine, Sky will just have to believe him.

And as promised, as soon as the heavy door swings closed, the sounds of the forge muffle to almost nothing.

---

With Sky finally gone, Blue feels the tension ease out of him. Finally, some peace and quiet. He loves his brothers, and he supposes the heroes they’re travelling with aren’t TOO bad, but sometimes he just needs time alone in the quiet with his own thoughts and his own projects. There’s not a lot of privacy on the open road, or in a head crammed full of four distinct people.

Vio struggles with it, too, Blue knows, as he sets up the next few pieces of metal to heat and shovels fresh coke into the fire. But unlike Blue, the nerd is soothed by late nights spent reading or taking the darkest hours of watch, where Blue needs to do things to calm the itch in his brain. Armour and weapons maintenance is great for that - but it’s not always quiet. And waking everyone up with his activities would very much defeat the point.

Then, once he’s got things set up, Blue sits down at the bench with pliers and wire.

The worst thing about Sky’s mail is that the links are an eighth of an inch larger than standard - than literally everyone else’s. Blue had had to make a winding rod specifically for his damn mail, and has to double check every time before starting repairs to make sure he’s pulling from the right patch of spares.

If he had more time, he’d just make him a mail shirt from normal links. Standardise them across the board, and improve Sky’s resistance to piercing claws. But he doesn’t - they don’t - and besides that when this is all over Sky will be going back to his home in the clouds with its stupid mail measurements and its barely-there monster attacks and he’ll have no use for the close-set rings of modern mail and they’ll never see him again -

The forge fires burn hot enough that Blue can pretend it’s the air making his eyes sting.

Mending mail is busywork, stuff to keep his hands occupied while he waits for things to heat. It needs doing, and if he does it here then he can rivet the rings shut properly instead of the temporary road fixes (shit he needs to check Twilight’s mail he knows he put in a patch at one point but doesn’t remember riveting it in, need to do that before they leave) but some things can only be done at the forge. Like the plates of steel he’s got resting to the side, waiting to be turned into a new piece of Time’s armour.

He should probably get started on that actually so Blue puts aside the mail and reaches for his tongs. A lot of this is just shaping, forming the metal to the exact dimensions and curvature of Time’s body, and then adding buckle straps and point anchors so it can actually be attached. This is the loud part, metal-on-metal ringing and echoing in the enclosed stone room and making his vision swim just a little. He has to pause to blink it away. Does his head actually hurt, or is it just more echoes from the hammer?

Doesn’t matter; he’s got work to do. Blue checks the first piece for fit and moves on to the second; best to get this heavy work done before he gets tired. Working the steel cold takes more effort, but makes it less brittle in the end. Kind of important, that the metal sheets guarding someone’s body don’t shatter under a stiff blow, turning them from a defense into a hazard. You can get away with working horseshoes and stuff like metal fittings hot and then quenching them down, but it’s not worth it with plate armour.

Once he’s got the base curve in place, he checks the lines he drew earlier before his vision started to wobble, then hunts down the blunted chisel he needs. This is the fiddly bit. Blue sets the metal down on the wooden block with the groove specifically for this task, lining it up with the drawn lines, and starts hammering out the ridges.

It’s time-consuming, but the raised metal redirects weapons to less vulnerable points. Blue’s seen a sword swing into an arm then slide off into empty air, instead of an armpit or elbow, because of these ridges. They’re useful.

Time didn’t have any, originally. And while he can’t say for sure - Blue suspects that if he’d had them on his armour that first time a moblin got the jump on him, its spear wouldn’t have slid past the plates into his side quite so easily.

Four’s been quietly upgrading it piece by piece ever since.

The vambrace is harder, more of a curve to force the steel into, but he’s long practised at getting stubborn materials to cooperate. Once it’s done, and added to the pile he’s making of Time’s shit, he pulls the pattern steel Red had spent all day folding and forge welding from the fire. Already the basic shape of it is there: the tapered tip, the length of the blade, the narrow throat and tang. Once it’s finished, it’ll be a dagger for Hyrule. His current one has been sharpened so many times it’s thin enough to use as a lockpick, and they want him to have something good-quality to replace it, something that will last him.

(Will last him beyond this time of portals and black blood, because getting new equipment in his time is so, so difficult and they never want him to go without ever again, and one knife isn’t much in the grand scheme of things but it’s something they can do, and they’ll do their goddess-damn best work on it for him.)

It still needs some more shaping before it’s ready to go under the whetstone, though, so Blue tucks it back in the fire and picks up Wind’s knife, the one with the loose hilt. How the sailor expects to get anything done when he has to hold his entire hand at right angles to keep the thing straight Blue doesn’t know. Apparently he’d been stuffing it with fabric scraps to stabilise it, which, great, now Blue has to dig them all out before he can decide if the hilt is at all salvageable.

It doesn’t help that his fingers are a little shaky. Shit. Maybe he needs a water break.

He sets the dubiously-fixable knife aside while he drinks. He doesn’t feel thirsty. Dry-eyed, maybe, and his throat aches from the forge air, but the water doesn’t really help. Still, hydration’s important.

A sudden clank makes Blue drop his cup, water scattering on the floor as he spins. The fire flares - oh. A coal had - split, or settled, and the still-dull blade of Hyrule’s dagger had shifted and struck the edge. It looks about ready to go again anyway, so Blue grabs it - with tongs! He’s not an idiot! - and starts hammering an edge into it.

As the blade flattens out and becomes more knife than bar of metal Blue takes care to bevel off both edges neatly. He flips it, to make sure he gets both sides, then flips it again to even it out. He wants the balance on this thing perfect, and if it takes a bit of fiddling, all the better. That way he knows it’s good. Blue holds it up, eyeing the straightness of the blade from the side, and then down the length of it, and nods to himself, moving to set it. Good. He’ll let it cool a little before heating it again, and -

Blue stumbles. The blade clangs down on the bench he’d meant to set it on gently, spinning away from the tongs and fortunately not hitting any part of him with the still red-hot metal. Fuck, he’d forgotten to pick up his cup. It’s a good thing it’s so hot in here that all the water evaporated off or he might have slipped. Fuck.

He checks the blade - fuck, he dinged it - puts it back in the fire, then picks up his cup to set it back beside the water barrel. The metal handle is painfully hot under his fingers. Although - he could do with more water. His eyes are stinging again.

Blue drinks, long and slow. The water tastes metallic, or maybe that’s just the forge air coating his tongue. It settles uneasily. Doesn’t matter - his stomach will get over it.

He fixes the dent made when he dropped the half-made dagger, hammering until metal fills the gap and then hammering it out even again to repair the edge. He also spends more time carefully squinting at it to make sure it’s still straight, so long that the metal goes dark and cold.

Then back in the fire it goes.

Blue gets back to mail repairs, working rings into place, then riveting them shut with scraps from broken links. He considers, as he works, if the long-handled riveting pliers could be made to fit into their tool pouch. They can’t bring along the whole forge, that would be silly, but this one thing? They already carry the cutting pliers to make links with so it’s not like they need anything else for the rivets, and it doesn’t need heat treatment -

He pinches a fingertip with the pliers and swears loudly, shaking it and resisting the urge to shove it in his mouth - his hands are covered in oil and coal dust. Squinting at it - no real damage - he shakes it one more time and picks up the mail patch he dropped. It stings a little, to apply enough pressure to hold the metal fabric. Actually -

Checking the dagger, he pulls it from the fire and rests it on the anvil to cool. This is always time consuming, heating and cooling the steel to normalise it before the final edge can be put on. Heat it, then cool it, then heat it again; all part of ensuring the blade isn’t brittle and will hold its shape and its edge for as long as possible. It’s familiar in a way so ingrained he can almost touch it, watching the metal change colour. Fading from yellow, through red, down to the still blisteringly-hot but normal appearance of steel.

Blue blinks, and finds himself sitting on his preferred stool, metal still cooling in his tongs. Shit. When did he sit down? He’s wasting time, here. Back in the fire, back to work, fingertip still throbbing faintly.

Half the plates on Time’s tassets got ripped off during the fight with the iron knuckle, which are fiddly and annoying but not hard to replace. Once he’s got them shaped and punched Blue is tempted to just hand the lot off to Time for the old man to stitch them in place. Teach him to get distracted watching Twilight’s sword form. Shit, there’s so many of them, too. Time’s lucky his leg was in few enough pieces that Hyrule and Warriors could put it back together.

Blue hammers out scale after scale. Get the curve right; adjust the tongs, hammer out the part they’d hidden; set the edge, set the ridge, set it aside, and grab the next one. He piles them up on the metal workbench; they’d be less annoying to work with if he could just pile them in a coal shovel and dunk them in the fire to soften them, but even if they’re small they’re still armour and he needs to keep them as supple as possible.

And speaking of it’s time to pull the dagger again. The tongs grab it, fumble it, dump it back in the coals, then grab it agin. Blue is very careful as he sets it on the bench. He has no desire to set his own boots alight. This is the last cooling phase, though, so he can let the forge fire die down. Finally. His eyes itch and ache in the hot, dry air. He’d rub them if he wasn’t - still - covered in forge leavings.

Punch the holes for Time’s tasset scales; set them in his pile to deal with in the morning. Finally get the hilt off Wind’s knife and decide it is salvageable, actually, if he glues in a wedge of cedar to fill in the split that was letting it get loose in the first place. How did Wind even do that? Rewrap it in leather strips and it’ll be done; another job for the morning. When his hands aren’t so shaky. He’s getting glue everywhere, ugh.

…does he need to pull the dagger again? No, wait, it’s already on the bench. Does it need to go back in the fire? …no, he already decided it was done. He reaches to grab it, half-intending to measure it up for the hilt and crossguard, but hesitates at the heat radiating off it. Right. Fresh from the forge. Doesn’t look hot, but definitely is. He’ll leave it for an hour or so.

Blue shakes himself, hard, feeling the pull of it in his neck and his forehead. His head aches, behind his eyes. There’s a fine grey fuzz at the edges of his vision. Right, with the forge fire dying, he needs a bit more light. Where’s Vio’s lantern…?

By the too-pale magical light, Blue works, and works, until there’s nothing left to do but wind more wire into chainmail rings and weave them into the cuts and gashes left by enemy claws and weapons, tamp down rivets and move to the next section until he needs to wind out more rings -

It’s endless and monotonous and he can feel the screaming under his skin finally starting to cool, as the fire burns itself out.

Something they do need, he thinks as he pulls out the temporary patch he’d put in Twilight’s mail tunic, is a store of fully-finished rings. Hammering out their linking points and punching rivet holes is best done on an anvil. Then, as long as they have a stock of scrap wire for rivets (inevitable, they’re constantly damaging mail), the cutters and the riveting pliers, they can do repairs that are just as strong as the original work itself. Once they run out of wire, well, that’s more of an issue. The drawing plate is much too heavy to bring along with them.

Blue seals up the last ring in Twilight’s mail and sets it aside, then hops off the stool to go in search of the metal rods he needs to make wire. He knows they left a whole stack of them somewhere.

In truth, most forging doesn’t require a lot of raw strength. The weight of the hammer and the drag of gravity does a lot of the work, and all you need to do is direct it. Blue’s got more muscle from wielding a warhammer, honestly. The exception, he thinks distastefully, is wire drawing. That does need some force, since you’re dragging a piece of metal through smaller and smaller holes, not stretching it so much as drawing it out longer and longer and thinner and thinner, and of course it’s metal, it doesn’t want to do that.

Blue finally finds the basket of rods on a low shelf behind a huge box of half-finished nails - Red’s doing, surely - and carries it to the draw plate. There’s certainly no moving the thing to anywhere else. It weighs more than he does at least twice over, solid iron plate set into a heavy stone base.

Choosing a rod, Blue hammers out a quick point, feeds it through a hole that’s just a little smaller than its current size, clamps it, and starts to pull.

His eyes burn. His head aches. His fingers sting, all the little places where slips and cuts and burns have piled up over long hours. Without his mind keeping track of eight timers at once, it’s free to focus on the physical, and oh, he feels so heavy -

Blue breathes deep, metal and coal dust and ash, and feeds the wire into the next hole.

---

Sky is unhappy but unsurprised to find the patch of floor allocated to Four empty.

Weak morning light streams through the curtains. It’s just enough to see by as Sky checks that Legend’s unmoving form on the bed is just due to stiffness and exhaustion, not something more worrying, and tiptoes around scattered bedrolls. Twilight cracks an eye as he’s stepped over.

“A’right there?” he checks, voice low.

Sky smiles. “Just seein’ who’s up.”

Twilight grunts and to all appearances goes straight back to sleep. For all he wakes with the dawn on the ranch, he does enjoy his sleep, when he can get it.

Sky empathises but he’s got a mission.

Through the shop windows he spots Wild outside, running through the carefully prescribed stretches that kept his scars limber. Once he was done with those, he’d be all up in Four’s kitchen, eager to make food more complex than could be managed over a simple campfire. Four even had an oven, which Wild had been very excited about.

Still, breakfast will come later. The forge door still stands closed, just as it had last night after Four kicked him out. Moving slow, Sky eases the heavy door open, hoping to find him passed out in a corner somewhere.

Instead Four is sitting upright at the workbench. The winding rod in his hands is familiar, though he’s moving far slower than usual, and his hands shake when he reaches for the pliers.

“Four, have you slept at all?” Sky asks, disappointed.

“Huh?” Four turns to look at him, and there’s a distinct pause before recognition flickers. “Oh, Sky. I’m nearly done with your mail. Or…” He squints at the links on the table. “No, mail’s finished. Spare rings. We’re always running out.”

“Sleep, Four,” Sky stresses. “Goddess - have you been working all night?” He eyes up the frankly ludicrous pile of mending that now sits on the other side of the bench from where it started, separated into neat piles by owner. And Four is still going - slowly cutting rings off the spiral, one by one.

“‘M fine.”

He changes tacks. “Four, c’mon. It’s time for breakfast. Wild will sulk if it gets cold, you know he will.”

Four blinks at him, visibly hazy with exhaustion, and finally, slowly, drags himself to his feet. He looks worse, upright. He’s pale and a little haggard, swaying slightly just standing in place. Goddess. He’s going to be an utter wreck today, and they’re supposed to head out for the Castor Wilds later. Maybe Sky can convince Time to wait until after lunch and Four will revive some after a nap -

The smith’s feet tangle. Sky lunges to catch him -

Four catches himself with a quick shake of the head. “Phew, close one,” he mutters. He brushes past Sky into the rest of the house, steps suddenly quick and sure. “C’mon, Sky,” he calls over his shoulder, “help me keep Wild from dirtying every pan I own, I do not want to do dishes today.”

He still looks distinctly unwell over breakfast, but the shake in his hands, the sway in his step, the dull slowness of his eyes and responses - all that is gone like it was never there. He even smiles and keeps up with the conversation. Sky doesn’t know what to make of it.

(In the back of his mind, though, he wonders.)

[howdoyousleep3]

No lie I need therapist Andy to be so obsessed with me to the point where he drives by my house at night and jerks off in his car at the thought of me sleeping in my house naked and so vulnerable or maybe he imagines me taking the time to just feel good before falling asleep

Anyway I need him to be dark and obsessed

Oh, he’d be dark and obsessed.

He leaves the first appointment you have with him and cancels the rest of his appointments for the day because he has to follow you; he can't fathom being away from you. Class/Work, the grocery store, dinner with a friend, home; he follows you to each place and pockets a plethora of information about you, his little pet.

Cue him jerking off in his car about all the ways he plans on forcing your every thought to be ones of him combined with the images of you running around town today fresh in his mind.

He later calls Bucky, your general practitioner, still in his car and on your street, to thank him for referring you to him.

“I knew she’d be perfect for you, pal. Be gentle with her, as gentle as you can be."

"You know I'll give her just what she needs..."

He’d first make you come see him twice a week, sometimes three times, would work quickly towards making you sit in his lap during your sessions because it’s the approach to therapy he thinks would best suit you and your needs.

"You need the reassurance and comfort of physical touch..."

As uncomfortable as it is at first, you trust him. And over a short period of time you come to look forward to the way it feels to settle into his lap and against his warm, sturdy chest.

He cuts you off from your friends and your family, convinces you that they don’t have your best interests at heart, that they’re the reason your condition has worsened, with their incessant and constant worrying about you.

"It's holding you back from your progress. You can't move forward when they're holding you prisoner, when they play a role in your regression..."

You realize he's right.

Then you realize he’s the only one you can trust, the only person there is to look after you.

And once your friends and family are at quite the distance, he'd go in for the metaphorical kill. He convinces you your anxiety is worthy of being hospitalized over, that he needs to see you every single day in order to make sure you're okay. Naturally, you trust him. And naturally, you come to rely on him for comfort and support.

There's no one there to tell you it's a highly inappropriate relationship.

That's why it's so easy for him to convince you to move in with him.

That's why it's so easy for him to tell you how to dress, what to eat, to transfer to online schooling.

But the easiness of brainwashing you isn't entirely bad. In fact, you don't see anything negative about it. Over time, you come to love Andy. You love the care he shows you, his obsession with you. You crave his attention and his touch, the way he protects you and doesn't let anyone talk to you, the way he knows your mind and your body.

You love your Daddy. You love being his little pet.

You can't remember a time before your Daddy, what your life was like without your Daddy.

And that's exactly how Andy likes it...

[rahuratna]

Hi rahuuuuu!!

My mind is fresh and awake (it’s one am), so I can continue the conversation about thoughts Gojo now. Just now, I was staring at the beautiful album cover art for jjk s2. I’ll attach it below:

He’s so fine— off topic. The first thing that stood out to me was… guess who is in the reflection of the glasses! Suguru Geto, of course. Gojo only has six eyes for him. And we take a look at the red side, there’s no more Geto. And I think that’s the point of this entire piece: how Gojo is like before and after Geto. It’s compare and contrast, and we get to see it side by side. This is a good opportunity to look at the differences in 1.) design, 2.) background/foreground, and 3.) expression.

1. Design

Here I’ll point out the height difference of the neck collar thingy (what’s it called?). On the left, we see more of Gojo’s face and on the right, his face is more hidden from view. This reminds me of a barrier. The taller collar is where Gojo doesn’t necessarily hide entirely behind— we can still see his expression after all— but something that separates him from the viewer. And for me, this personally resonates with me because I didn’t feel much of a connection to him in season one, but when we got to his backstory, I was actually able to. In terms of the storyline, I think it applies similarly. While he forms genuine connections with his colleagues and students, they do not get to see the entirety of Gojo because of this, like you said, self-imposed barrier.

2. Background.

Okay, so I’m pretty sureeee we know about the blue and red themes. The blue spring, and then specialz red for destruction and chaos (red like the fiery sparks which is on par with sukuna, jogo, and incineration in general). Not gonna go deep into it. But the foreground!! You see these black splotches, something we’d associate with corruption or something tainted. And maybe it’s just me overanalyzing but I really appreciate how the artist chooses to skew the splotches towards the red side which is in line with the red destruction theme.

3. Expression

Loss of innocence is what I see. No more smiley face (oh my gosh, I want to give Gojo a hug…) and also the blood smeared on his face. Literally and figuratively, he has blood on his hands now. He is responsible— or he feels responsible— for all the lives he couldn’t save. And that’s Geto included. Gojo was Geto’s executioner, and so Geto’s life was in his hands. Not just at the very end, but from the start too, relating to how Gojo blames himself for his best friend’s defection.

Now let’s connect back to my first point on where Gojo is looking. Gojo looks only at Geto at first. Geto was his focus, Geto made up a significant part of Gojo’s world. And we move on to the red side of the picture. One thing is clear, there is no more Geto. It is clear that Gojo is not looking at Geto, and so where is he looking off too? I suppose it’s a bit ambiguous and can be left to interpretation but my assumption is “ahead.” Gojo is looking ahead past something ahead, or further away from where Geto stood. He’s looking towards something that— and this is very subjective by the way— feels much bigger than just one person. Here I am referring to Gojo’s mission: to rebuild the jujutsu system with a new generation of strong sorcerers. Why do I say one feels bigger than the other? Well with Geto, there was a finite point where he actually existed in front of gojo. And with Gojo looking ahead towards the future, there is no finite point. There’s no end. Doesn’t this hit so hard with the whole being of jujutsu kaisen? There’s no end to corruption, no end to the conflict between not just curses and sorcerers, but also between humans too. It’s literally in the name. Jujutsu kaisen means “endless battle of curses.”

[Oh, side note: I just think that it’s so interesting how curses and humans are very intertwined and similar yet curses and humans alienate each other. (Even humans do it to each other with racism and ideological differences…). Curses don’t even have to take the form of the monsters we see in the series, it already exists even without a medium between humans. Like with Junpei being bullied. Or even when Gojo says that “love is the most twisted curse of all.”]

Anyways, when Gojo looks ahead, I interpret it as that he moved on from Geto.

[Pause again: I knowwww there’s a lot of fanfics, headcanons, and fanart that show how they pine for each other behind closed doors. Pining as in like they yearn deeply to be with each other again. And I totally eat it up hehehehe. It makes me laugh, it makes me cry, I enjoy the content very much! But in context with the series, to me I would very unfortunately have to disagree.]

I do think that Gojo moved on from Geto. Not that he can’t miss him or can’t feel a fondness for his best friend. But I think there’s a reason why Gojo does not completely forgo his values to be with Geto. (Oh but how I do love the fanarts that show what would happen if he did. It’s absolutely delicious 🤤). I actually think they maybe moving is a bit insensitive of me to say? Because Geto will always have his own special place in Gojo’s heart/soul. Perhaps a sense of resignation. Knowing that reaching out wouldn’t be any good but only serve as a painful reminder of their now vast difference. In the end though, we know that Gojo is looking forward at something that is beyond one person (ugh this hurts to say… but it’s also what I think but I don’t want to think it but I do…). Something that has no end point.

Just like what Geto said.

So what do you think? Would you say Gojo moved on/forwars? Maybe Gojo really does pine down bad over Geto behind closed doors! I totally indulge the idea 😏 😏

It makes my heart palpitate hehehehe. Then my brain is like “Gojo is a man with goals, dude… he don’t have time and his goals just seem so big!” Then my heart is like “yeah, well their relationship is on another level of big in a way you cannot compare. How dare u compare. It is not comparable.” Heart wins this round. Because if I do compare the relationship between Gojo and Geto and versus Gojo’s ideologies, I’d be overlooking soooo many things because I’m only comparing one aspect of each. That’s not fair! So it’s important for me to be more mindful in that way, and i’d like to be better with the way I frame these thoughts with my words ^^

I hope that the little art analysis is interesting! I tried my best to tie it in with the storyline and big themes of jjk. I also love music analysis. Ahhhhh, I could do one about “Hollow Purple” but I do not know if people would understand what I’d be rambling about LOL. Hope you are having an amazing amazing day!!

🤩💗🤩💗🤩💗,

Court 💜

Good morning my fellow STEM-girlie, sweetheart @courtneedsleep Your analysis arrives ... to help me through a lazy Sunday afternoon, lol. My brain needs to wake up!

Do you know, I actually haven't seen this art before. It's symbolism and the juxtaposition of the colours and moods are very striking. So, the same elements that you mentioned immediately jump out at me.

1. The collar design. Like you said, the higher collar seems to create a barrier between the reader and Gojo. There is that idea of a protective shield being built between Gojo and the rest of the world, not just to protect himself, but to protect the ideals he comes to hold so highly above everything else. Gojo IS an idealistic man, in his own way, just like Nanami and Kusakabe. Although made jaded and cynical by their experiences and the burdens they carry, they keep these secret flames burning inside themselves which they successfully hand down to the sorcerers of the future. But the hard lessons, the loss of innocence, comes first.

2. The black splotches do remind me strongly of corruption, and also the sense of the fabric of things burning to ashes. Gojo and his fellow students, including Geto, had a vague idea of the darkness in the world before Riko's death. Afterwards, there was a sense of impending darkness, of a doom that was certain to claim them all if someone didn't take action. Gojo took a lot of that responsibility onto his own shoulders for obvious reasons.

3. There is also something about his eyes that I have to comment on. The glasses reflect Geto, during a better time, a time when they had not just each other, but a belief that they could triumph over anything. The fallacy of infinite potential. There is a certain opacity to Gojo's gaze in the second half. As you put it, very perceptively, he seems to be looking outwards, beyond just the singular point of Geto and their relationship. The lightness of being, youthful innocence and cheekiness we see from before is replaced with something sombre, something that does not let the light through. Gojo will never look at the world with that innocence again, but he will do his best to protect it for others. (Getting my tissues out)

There is a lot of mythical and spiritual symbolism in the themes of JJK regarding the cycle of birth and death. I had a great conversation with @tsukimefuku about this at one stage too, concerning the principles behind reincarnation and rebirth that are tied in with the symbolism in JJK. I also find it fascinating how Gege brings in the themes of discrimination and the inability to co-exist alongside those significantly different than yourself (rather effectively and subtly, in some cases).

The reason I mention this is because I believe it also has relevance to what happens to Gojo and Geto. Here, the theme of rebirth as something new is subverted. They are brought back, but in a sense that forms a travesty of their independence and desire for liberation.

It also relates to my personal view on how I believe Gojo handled Geto's defection. He didn't take it well, naturally. But more than that, he had to find a way to process it, to mark it as a failure in his own book of mental records and try to find meaning in it. How did he try to achieve this? By making sure that those in a similar position, young, vulnerable and with the high possibility of falling into despair (Yuuji, Yuuta and Megumi) never felt truly alone.

Whatever their views on sorcerer society, they knew that Gojo sensei was in their corner. That was never in doubt. His manner of teaching them may have been irresponsible at times (there were certain emotions and responsibilities Gojo clearly wasn't equipped to handle), but he was there, and never left them feeling like they had little to no support structure.

I don't believe that Gojo ever 'got over' Geto, and the manner by which he believed he failed him. When he confronts a dying Geto at the end of the movie, there is a sense of resignation, like you pointed out, a sense of finality, grief and regret, but it seemed that somewhere along the line, he'd found some way to manage his own pain. Maybe not in the healthiest sense (if there is even such a thing for a sorcerer) but he seemed like he'd said his goodbyes long before their meeting.

I also think that in his own way, Geto was longing to see Gojo once again. There was a certain mirthless longing in his own confrontation with the man he had once been closer to than anyone else. What eventually happened to the both of them was not natural or fitting in the natural cycle of birth and death. But it is fitting for those whose souls are inextricably linked, those who desire to be close to one another, even in a 'not-death' that makes a mockery of their lives and dreams.

As bleak as that sounds, Gojo left a legacy for those who came after, to bring into this world a  panacea that even he could not. Yuuji's declaration, in recent chapters, that people are not tools, is an ode to individualism, a firm rejection of the way both Gojo and Geto were treated by the societies they inhabited. The fact that he carries this belief forward would probably be enough to satisfy the two tragic men who gave up so much, including each other, to search for some truth in the world.

Please, please do the music analysis. I don't have much knowledge about that, lol, but I'd love to listen to your thoughts on it.

Have a beautiful day!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Love, Rahu 🧡🧡

[pastel-omegas-blog]

can't help imaging both Leon and Mc as partners being on heat together

Also love your stories

Wow wasn't expecting this ask so quickly that and three different people requested the same thing.

Well here you go.

For my quotev readers this is not canon in my other D.D au

Used a picrew for Leon's face claim

Leon and MC sharing their heat together.

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ smut ahead, obsessive and yandere tendencies, mind play/ manipulation, drugging, praise kink, loss of innocence, breeding, overstimulation.

DNI if your a minor please. Go do something else, fem readers I didn't care since most won't listen, just no freaky shit.

Leon

Leon watched from across the table as his h/c lover helped himself to the snacks and desserts arranged on the table.

The two having different snacks set out to soothe their tastes. Even their tea sets were different, Leon requesting a sweet flavoured tea for the other while he took something more bitter to calm his nerves.

M/N didn't think to much of it, using the sweets to fight down his stress and the blue haired man didn't blame him.

The larger omega could still remember the panicked look in the others e/c eyes as he begged him him to go on a small date with him outside the imperial palace and away from his small mansion to get some fresh air and quality alone time together.

So here they were, in a hidden cafe located under ground the Trovian Empire in a private vip room so they could enjoy some quality time together.

Away from peering eyes and nosy ears.

With eyes full of wonder and admiration, the saint stared at the s/c man happy that the relationship between was no longer strained.

He was glad M/N was no longer wary of him and his advances. Was glad that now they could confined In one another, and he even press a soft kiss to the the h/c man's cheek and lips when he was sure the other was comfortable with it.

It was a sweet and charming process watching the discarded Emperor get close to him and see him in a new light.

But Leon would be a damned lair if he said he was satisfied with this.

Fucking not !!

He wanted more.

Wanted to touch him more.

Wanted to mark him with his scent

Wanted everyone to know that the petite man belonged to him and him alone!

But that was risky.

To even court the discarded Emperor had been a risky move. He wasn't able to send items with his scent for the possibility it could be found, publicly take him out or flaunt him around.

Even sending the gifts and cryptid letters professing his feelings and love had been dangerous, but he had managed to do it.

The most pain staking thing about the whole thing was having to patiently wait for M/N to completely come out of his shell. The process had been so slow that at one point Leon almost snapped and snatched him out to prematurely.

Luckily he had stopped himself on time.

But there were two things the smaller omega did that honestly pissed him off to no end.

" mmmhm! This is so good Saint Cornelius. I wish the Emperor would take me out like you do "

One was that the h/c omega hardly ever called him by his name, only referring to him as hit title.. it peeved him, but he could stomach it. He knew it was because of the other's strict etiquette during his upbringing that he still unconsciously referred to him by title.

But the habit of unconsciously calling out for that stupid alpha. It had to stop. In fact.

He hated how the names of other possible love interest just flew out of the man's mouth.

He wanted mark him so he chase them away.

But he couldn't do that.

To freaking risky, their relationship would be exposed immediately.

So Leon decided he would settle for the next best thing.

A way to ensure that M/N only had him in mind.

Purple amethyst eyes watched closely as the s/c man brought the porcelain teacup closer to his plump glossy lips. the Emperor drinking the sweet tea with a pleased hum didn't notice the quick shift in his lover's expression.

A sinister look took over his normally gentle smile and just as quick as it appeared it vanished and the blue haired man continued eating his dessert while counting down in his mind.

M/N felt his clothes start to stick to his body as an uncomfortable heat began to envelop his body.

He tried to brush it off at first, blaming the heat on the clothes he chose to wear.

A black thick coat like outfit that practically swallowed his form, but with each passing second the heat started becoming unbearable.

Confused the h/c started to wonder if he was becoming sick.

He himself hadn't noticed it, but his breathing had become erratic, his mouth opened slightly as he took in deep breaths to try and calm himself down.

A soft red blush dusted his cheeks as his e/c eyes became hazy, his gaze no focusing on anything as he has stopped eating.

" M/N ? Is everything alright ? " Leon's soft voice snapped the Emperor out of his thoughts and when he looked to be blessed with the sight of the blue haired omega's pretty face was when he felt a gush of silck start to dribble out of his entrance.

It took a few seconds before it finally hit the h/c haired omega.

He was in heat.

He was in heat!

How could he be so careless?!

He was having his very first heat in a public setting like this where everyone could recognize his scent.

And in front of the only person who had ever treated him with so much love and kindness other than Aria.

Shame began to spill into his core as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes.

How could he be so shameless.

Was he so useless that he couldn't even keep track of his own heat ?!

His stupidity was going to get the two of them caught.

To wrapped up in his own turmoil he didn't notice that the saint had gotten up and had moved towards him.

" M/N ? " Said man froze up when he heard just how close the voice was , looking over to his side he saw just how close the other had gotten and seeing the omegas pretty face closer caused more slick to gush out and a small whine left his lips. M/N was sure that his scent had started to spread and it would only be a matter of time before people came banging on the door.

The tears came rolling down his cheeks at that.

There was no way that Leon couldn't smell him.

He would probably think he was disgusting.

That he was just a cheap whore that couldn't control himself.

He snapped out of his thoughts when a soft silk material started wiping his tears away and he looked up to see his lover gently wiping his tears away.

" sssshhh it's okay. It's alright don't worry yourself " the larger omega cooed out as he gently pat the other's curly h/c hair " b..but t.. they'll be able t.. to pick up my s..scent " the s/c man argued back.

He was absolutely sure that the people outside had already figured out he was in heat and would soon come banging on the door.

" Don't worry I casted a månå spell so that doesn't happen. Don't blame yourself for this alright ? It happens to the best of us, so don't be too harsh on yourself. " The blue haired omega cooed, letting out his pheromones of ripe strawberries and vanilla to calm the other down.

And the e/c felt his body relax, the shame and fear disappearing as lust started to replace it, the yearning growing fast and strong as the smaller omega felt his phermones flow out as a futile attempt to try and seduce the blue haired saint.

The breathy laugh that leaves Leon's lips causes a shiver to run down M/N's spine making the man's inner omega react as a pleading mewl left his lips.

The blue haired man felt an shock go down his cock and it took everything in him not to take the smaller omega then and there. He had to be patient.

It was the h/c man's first time and he didn't want to do anything that would scare him.

But he found it hard to hold himself back with the way the other's scent was filling the room.

The thick sweet smell of ripe peaches and rich honey with the soft longer of creamy milk sticking to it.

It was getting to potent in the small room that Leon was beginning to taste it on his tongue.

If the richness of the other's scent wasn't a good enough reason to pounce on the smaller male then the cute expressions he was making was.

Fighting down the greed in him begging to take the s/c man and pound into him already, the blue haired omega put on the face of a worried lover.

" I know this is your first time and it might be scary so let me help you out..... " The man started steadily pumping out more of his phermones to influence the other's decision as he leaned in close to the other's face, his lips hover only an inch over the other's.

his hands were already moving forward to slowly unbutton the h/c man's coat like dress, exposing his neck and collarbone as the blue haired man's fingers gingerly rubbed the other's heated flesh, gaining small moans as the other's reaction.

" ....... If we stay here like this it'll only get worst and we won't be able to escape back to the imperial palace without getting caught. You wouldn't want that to happen right N/N ? " The saint added cooing out gently, as his hands continued to go down lower, opening the buttons of the petite man's coat, exposing his pretty body to his greedy eyes as he took in everything, holding back from licking his lips at the delicious sight.

With the coat partially out of the way M/N was left in just his corset, lace underwear and thigh high stockings. 

Now it made so much sense why the h/c Emperor only stuck to wearing such ridiculous outfits that made him look like a sack of potatoes.

Because if he went around dressed in clothes that showed off his figure added with his already pretty face, there would be no way he would receive the same amount of hate and criticism he was getting now.

He was the epitome of how the perfect omega was supposed to look like.

Such a delicate little thing, with a curvy hourglass shape, nice hips for bearing the most adorable pups, plush thighs and a plump ass. 

The larger omega hadn't been expecting to see it, but the smaller man had inverted nipples.

Absolutely adorable, his chest was just as shy as he was.

The h/c man was just so alluring.

Not to mention now the smell of silck was stronger and Leon didn't miss how the bottom coat and underwear had become drenched in the natural lube, that just added to the appeal.

The gods Leon wanted to take him so badly! already. But he had to be patient.

Still it didn't mean he couldn't speed up the process.

Enjoying how his lover became a squirming and blushing mess at been so exposed, the blue haired omega pumped out more of his pheromones, not stopping untill he was sure the s/c man had gotten drunk of his scent he asked again. " Don't you want me to help darling ? " The saint purred out his question.

M/N  didn't know what to do. Everything was becoming blurry to him and the heat was getting to much, pooling in the pit of his stomach and just made everything unbearable. He tried to rub his thighs together, but the larger omega's hands darted down to keep his legs apart and he let out a whine of protest. " Come on darling. You have to accept my help. It's the best way to relieve you of your pain " Leon suggested, but the way he worded it made it sound like a demand. M/N to gone in his dazed state and drunk off the larger omega's pheromones he nodded his head groggily his head in response.

" Use your words " the h/c omega almost pouted, his inner omega showing and making him act brattier than his normal sweet self, but the stone cold look his lover gave made him stutter out his response.

" S.. saint C.. Corneli- "

" Say my name. " The blue haired man growled out, cutting off his lover and M/N couldn't stop the whimper of fear that left his lips.

" P.. please L.. Leon..... h...help... " He managed to force out those three words, mumbling them under his breath as he turned his face away to hid his embarrassed cheeks, but that seemed to be enough for the saint.

The next words that left the larger omega's lips sent a jolt of pleasure straight to the Emperor's cock making in struggle against it's clothed prison and draw a whine of pleasure for him more silck dripping out of his entrance and making a mess of his thighs and the chair.

" Good boy~ "

And with that Leon crashed his mouth into the other's lips, shoving his tongue inside and moaning loudly at sweet taste of ripe peaches and rich honey that flooded his taste buds.

He knew the h/c would taste sweet, but was just utterly addictive.

The next  moments were a blur.

Hands ripped away the dress from the s/c man's form as the larger omega desperately wanted to feel more of his lover's skin. The kids between the two of them was rough, M/N not being able to keep up so Leon had to take the lead. Getting frustrated of having to bend his form slightly to kiss his lover so he picked the man up from the chair,  hands digging into the soft flesh of his ass,as the blue haired man separated the kids for a moment to a quick månå spell, giving the h/c man a chance to breathe as the other crafted a small temporary bed,, laying the Emperor on it gently before bringing him in for another bruising kiss , both men moaning into it.

This was wrong.

What he was doing was wrong.

Drugging the innocent man with a hormone pill that forced his heat.

About to fuck him in some underground cafe in some dingy bed he summoned instead a a large room filled with things the would keep them both happy and on a huge bed with soft silk sheets.

Stealing the man's first heat in such a cruel way, but Leon couldn't be bothered. Doing this would erase any thoughts if other possible love interests form M/N's mind and the smaller would only think of him.

He would depend on him and him alone.

The drugs only lasted for a few hours and the saint was going to enjoy every single second of it.

Leon pulled away from the kiss, drawing a weak moan from the disgruntled Emperor and the larger omega simply peck the tip of his nose, moving up to kiss away the tears that had gathered around the s/c man's pretty e/c eyes before lowering his lips to the man's neck to start a new bout of torture.

His ministrations started small, with kisses to small sucking and going full force into harsh nips, high pitched moans and squeals that striker the saint's ego left the other omega's lips.

M/N's formally smooth neck was now filled with hickeys of different colours. Some a rosy pink, some a dark red and others a bruising purple.

Leon thought the colours were pretty and he wished he was able to make the man show them off so that others would back away. 

That would be something happening in the near future, so the saint could be a bit more patient until then.

Purple amethyst eyes stared down at the dazed look his omega had on.

The smaller omega had reached out to tightly grip the dress shirt that his lover had on, a part of him  tugging the pesky clothing as he wanted it off and the other gripping on for dear life.

All of this felt so weird, yet at the same time he wanted more. His body craved for every little jolt of pleasure Leon gave him.

He didn't know what to expect when he finally had his first heat. The omegan teacher he had when he was younger had simply said his fated alpha would make him feel good, but Leon wasn't an alpha and his body was still begging for his touch.

Leon glanced at his lover as he trailed his lips lower, stopping next to the h/c man's scent gland, been so close to the source of the smaller man's pheromones  had an immediate effect on the blue haired man, his inner omega begging to be let loose and for a split second he gave into his instincts.

The h/c man's eyes widened in shock as he felt pointing canines graze the soft flesh of his neck. 

The place we're a mating mark would be placed. 

Fear seeped into his core, the rational part of his starting to work again.

Small s/c hands that had been pulling the larger omega closer started to push him away, the smaller Man wriggling his body as he tried to escape.

" L.. Leon. N..no ...s... stop please!! " He cried out trying to get to the saint to snap out of his dazed.

He couldn't mark him!

They would both be sentenced to death if he did.

A pained moan escaped M/N's kiss swollen lips as Leon roughly gripped his wrist and pinned them to the bed, his knee moving forward to keep the other's legs apart.

The deep feral growl that escaped the larger omega's lips made him shrink back in fear as he and stop his struggling. 

Still not giving up he weakly called out.

" O...omega y..your scaring m..me ! " The h/c man sobbed out, tears running down his cheeks.

Leon stopped moving at those words, his senses rushing back to him as his eyes widened in horror at the tears running down his lover's cheeks.

No no no no no no no no no NO!

He hadn't meant for this to happen!

Leon quickly pumped out more of his pheromones, the scent of vanilla and strawberries almost becoming suffocating. He peppered kisses in the man's cheeks, letting go of his wrist to gently cradle his face.  He was doing everything in his power to calm the smaller omega down.

Cradling him softly, whispering apologies into his ears.  The saint felt his heart hammering against his rib cage and for a moment he didn't understand what was wrong, then it hit him.

He was scared.

Scared that his actions would make the h/c Emperor hate him.

Scared that because of his greed that he would lose the only thing he really held dear to him.

The fear gradually died down as the h/c man stopped his crying , leaning into saint's touch, but it lingered at the back of his mind.

The two stayed like that in each other's arms simply enjoying their warmth, until the pesky heat kicked up dragging a pained moan from M/N.

Leon winced slightly himself, a guilt he didn't feel earlier suddenly coming back to eat him up.

"  I'm sorry love " the larger omega cooed out separating the other to pull off his shirt and undo the belt of his pants so he could kick them of, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. Leaning back closer he pecked his forehead softly, pretty purple hues staring into e/c eyes with absolute love and admiration.

He continued to lower his lips, pecking the man's lips, going lower to gingerly kiss his scent glands, going lower to place hickeys on his collar bone, going lower to tease the s/c man's nipples.

He smirked at the sight of the shy things that hadn't even peeled out, his hawk eyes catching a thick white liquid slowly gathering around the head and slowly dripping down his chest.

Without another thought he took in the nipple closest to his mouth  moaning softly at the sweet taste and enjoy the high pitched mewls that left the smaller male's lips.

He smirked at the cute sounds and continued his teasing, rolling the sensitive bud in his mouth and nibbling it gently, only relenting when the head finally popped out of hiding before doing the same treatment to the other one, gulping down as much sweetness he could during the process.

He could feel the Emperor's breathing relax when he did so.

Not done yet he finger continued going down, giving the plump flesh of the omega's hips a nice squeeze before going to tug on his drenched lace underwear. And in one swift motion he ripped the offending clothing off, drawing a strangled cry from the lust hazed h/c man, finally free the man's weeping cock and exposing his silck covered ass.

Leon let out a small whine as he felt his own member start to strain against his underwear, the fabric beginning to get to tight, his own ass beginning to get wet with silck, but he had to leave it on.

He wasn't going to take it off and lose him.

Not again.

By this time it wasn't just M/N feel that felt the the thick lust.

Leon felt his breathing become laboured as he begrudgingly separated the smaller omega's nipples, gulping down the creamy liquid. 

His own body temperature was beginning to get higher, his fair cheeks getting a rosy hue of their own.

It was like he was going into heat himself and the saint couldn't help the crazed smile that spread on his swollen lips at the thought.

He really loved the h/c so much that his own body had taken up symptoms of heat just so he could treat the man more gently. 

They really were just absolutely made for each other.

Moving his face upwards he brought his lover in for another kiss, his tongue prodding into the man's mouth to make sure the other could taste exactly how sweet he was.

Doing this, his fingers continued trailing lower, stopping at the smaller man's silck gushing entrance, making sure to coat his digits in a generous amount of the liquid before prodding the puckered hole gently then slowly pushing his digit into the man's tight heat, wincing slightly at how tight the man's velvet walls gripped around it.

Fuck he was tight!

And so freaking hot and soft.

The gods he couldn't wait to enter him.

M/N's eyes widened as he let out a pained moan, the sound being blocked by Leon's lips.

The larger omega pulled back shushing him gently as he used his other free hand to gently message the man's hips as small pained whimpers left the s/c emperor's lips.

He waited for a few moments before he started moving his finger slowly, waiting for the other to relax, getting encouraged by the pleased moans before he picked up the pace.

The h/c raised his hands to wrap them round Leon's neck, his moans getting louder as the saint's thrusting got faster. 

This felt so.... so weird.

In a really good way.

 He didn't know he could feel so good like this.

The heat in his stomach began to churn around in a really nice addicting way.

He could feel his cock get harder with each stroke of his walls and the head dribble out something. His balls felt tight and heavy It felt like he wanted to pee so badly, but at the same time he knew that wasn't the case.

 E/c widened in shock, a chocked moan escaping his lips as he felt the finger in him get bigger. Leon moved back to capture his lips and M/N relaxed at the familiar taste of ripe strawberries and vanilla on his tongue.

Leon thrusted his fingers slowly watching how his lover handle the extra two digits before speeding up his thrusts, his hand by this point was drenched in the other's silck, but that didn't stop his fingers searching for the small bundle of nerves that would make his omegas see stars.

And when he felt the other suddenly stop kissing and violently tense underneath him he knew he had found it.

And like a good lover what did he do ?

Abuse it.

The blue haired omega pulled out his fingers , breaking the kiss so he could see the confused expression on his omega, a manic grin spreading on his lips when he thrusted them back in with full force, loving how the h/c man's eyes rolled to the back of his head and with that he continued the assault the man's little bundle of nerves, feeling his gummy walls flutter and tightening around his fingers.

M/N felt something was about to happen to him. His grip around leon's neck tightening.

His insides felt like they were tying themselves into knots and with how the fluid dripping from his cock seemed to gush out even more, the pressure increasing tenfold. He couldn't focus his mind on anything, but he could still make out the sound of his own broken voice moaning like a broken mantra.

Then he felt it.

A sudden tightening of a rope that felt like it was about snap and give his body what he was looking for and when he though it was about to happen, Leon suddenly pulled his fingers away and M/N felt like he was about to die.

The pleasure that had been building up started fading and a hurt sob fell from his lips. Blinded by rage(?) He used his hands to weakly push the saint's chest, trying and failing miserably at glaring at him.

" S.. stupid...m..m.. meanie o..omega " he drawled out, earning an amused chuckle leaving the blue haired omega's lips.

" Sorry love " Leon cooed out not sounding sorry at all as he straightened himself to pull of his underwear, finally getting free from his clothed prison.

The only thing the h/c omega would be cumming on was his cock.

E/c darted down to stare at the rock hard appendage and the s/c man felt silck gush out even more.

Even his cock was pretty.

Long and thick with not much veins being visible, the head a raging red.

The sound of Leon's laughter snapped him out of his thoughts and then he realized he was drooling.

" Aww aren't you just adorable ? " The saint purred out, using his slick covered hand to wet his cock and whatever anger M/N felt died down at those words as nervousness flooded his dazed state. Leon quick to notice sent him a smile, using his free hand to cradle his lover's face.

" Don't worry darling. I'll be gentle " he assured and the h/c man relaxed at his words, putting his trust into the larger omega.

The blue haired man's heart warmed at the sight.

Lining his cock in front of the omega's entrance Leon entered once, quick so it wouldn't hurt the other by pushing in inch by inch and he winced at the tightness gripping him felt like his cock would break and the warmth surrounding him.

The moans of discomfort coming from his omega was what that stopped him from pounding harshly into the s/c man.

Leaning his face down he peppered kisses to the man's face, crooning his neck, letting out deep purrs to calm down the other.

When he was sure the omega had adjust, he gave an experimental thrust. The loud moan hr got in reply was all he needed.

The saint's thrusts started off slow, gaining more power until he was practically slamming into the smaller man, his balls slapping against the man's ass. Hitting the smaller man's prostate head-on.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and high pitched moans filled the room, both omegas letting the sounds fall out from their lips.

" Fuck love. Your so tight. Doing so well taking all of me. Just so fucking perfect. The prettiest omega in the whole damn IRA. Such a good boy, my good boy" the blue haired man moaned our praises , having noticed how the praises had affected the man earlier. And from how the man underneath him let out small chirps at the words.

But he meant every word he said.

How no one had noticed what a fucking masterpiece the man was, was beyond him.

That stupid alpha really was blind.

Leon winced slightly as M/N hands fell from his neck to his back, his manicured nails growing sharp and piercing the soft skin of the larger omega's back, leaving scratches behind.

But Leon didn't mind, if anything the pain the pain spurred him on.

" Gonna fuck my pups into you when I get the chance " the blue haired man  growled out and the h/c man tightened around him.

Oh?

So his little omega liked the thought of being breed huh ?

Leon pulled out till it was just the head and slammed right back in causing M/N to cry out in pleasure.

" You like that don't you ? Want to be full of my pups. Want to be full and round. Does my pretty boy want to be a mama ~ " the saint teased  increasing his pace with every clash of his hips.

The h/c man felt like he was in heaven.

The pleasure had his toes curling, his body twitching as his mind trying to hold any semblance of rational thought and ultimately failing, but after a few moments of trying to get himself he did.

Only for it to get brutally destroyed when Leon thrusted upwards, hitting the mouth of his womb.

He came then and there.

He came hard, his vision going white as his body convulsed in ecstasy.

" L....LEON!!~ "

Thin strings of semen shot out of his cock , staining his and his lover's chest.

Leon let out a whiney moan as M/N tightened harshly around him, staring at the man in awe as he climaxed. His body twitching from the over stimulation.

And Leon not caring that the smaller man just keep or loving how sensitive ha had become whichever one, pounded harsher into the smaller omega. The head of his cock making a tight squeeze past his cervix and into the man's womb were he proceeded to bully the man's sensitive walls like his life depended on it.

The way his thrusts started becoming sloppy after while indicated he way close and the blue haired man's thrust become more purposeful. His body shaking with desire as he chased his high.

And he he came, burning his cock into M/N's gummy walls as his poured into the omega's fertile hole, his hands gripped the smaller man's waist tightly.

He would be sure to give him drugs later to avoid any pups for now.

Both men's ragged breathing filled the room.

M/N was far to gone to even form words as he laid there and try to wait for the feeling of euphoria running through his veins to calm down.

Leon leaned over his face to peck the h/c man's lips and M/N felt himself relax a bit.

At least now he could-

" Ahhhh~ !! " 

E/c eyes widened as a moan was ripped out  of his hoarse throat.

Confused, with his body being pushed over The edge of over stimulation M/N looked at his lover with panicked eyes and Leon sent an innocent smile.

" Oh darling you really are just so adorable. Absolutely cute. Just one more round please ?~ I promise after another I'll be filled. So won't you let me darling ? "

[obey-my-twisted-logic]

Soothing what Remains : after avoiding the Pomefiore Dormleader like the plague since you learned of him, you can avoid him no longer. Vil Schoenheit, the most beautiful man you'd met or seen in the entirety of your life, had you alone in a room in Ramshackle Dorm. Platonic!Vil Schoenheit x GN!Reader

Synopsis : He had you take him personally to his guest room during his stay while he leads the training camp for the SDC. As their manager, he needs a word with you. The Fairest of them All is very aware that you've been avoiding him.

Warnings : eating disorder mentioned briefly. There is self harm mentioned and discovery. A lot of hidden scars are revealed. Gentle platonic touching. Difficult confession and a softer side unknown to the reader. Mild cursing and self degradation. Comfort but not coddling. General spoilers of the game up to the beginning to the middle of Book 5 in the game Twisted Wonderland, but the focus is not on the game. Everyone involved is over 21 years of age. Anything in italics is from Vil's point of view.

Author's Note : Vil has a special place in my heart. While beauty and self confidence are extraordinarily important, he's not incessantly cruel or heartless. At least not in my head canons, and based on what I've read and understood from the game. Very personal piece to myself, as someone who has struggled desperately with self harm. Edit - this really got away and personal for me, I hope you enjoy it

---

You escort Vil to his room. His confiscation of the treats from his troupe of dancers fresh in your mind. There was sympathy but despite it all, he hadn't been overly cruel about it and wasn't exactly wrong about why he did so. Still it was a shame you couldn't share the treats Trey had sent. Thankfully he wasn't forcing this new "lifestyle" on you or Grim. Your struggle with food was dark enough, and dealing with Grim would have been infinitely worse.

"So this will be your room specifically-" your explanation cut off by the harsh shutting of the room's door. "What was that about?" You asked, trying to hide you annoyance, despite it being evident in your look.

He did bow his head apologetically. "I closed the door a touch harder than intended, however I do require a bit of a ... chat with you." He said as he took a seat on the bed, poised and legs crossed elegantly. "Tell me little potato, why do you avoid me so much?" His gaze caught your own, seeming to just see straight through you.

"If I was avoiding you I wouldn't allow you to stay in my home." You replied, however it was evident that you were avoiding his gaze.

"I may be pretty Sweet Potato, but that doesn't make me dumb." He cut your excuses off with a click of his tongue, smoothing his forehead as the annoyance crossed his delicate features once again.

"Of course I didn't notice in the beginning. You a trouble making first year, and magicless to boot, and I the Housewarden of Pomefoire. We were not two people who would join face to face often, or really at all." He paused, eyes tracing over your form, an unexplainable look on his face, like he was lost in your form and how you became a part of his life.

"With each 'incident' " Vil resumed, referring to the Overblots. "You became more interesting. Even began to hear professors sincerely sing your praises. Despite your lack of magic, you excelled elsewhere."

"I can't be lazy or lax, headmaster made it quite clear he'll be happy to kick me out." You interrupt. How long had he had an interest in you? Why did it not just fade away? You'd done your best to not stand out otherwise. How did he realize your were actually avoiding him?

"Rook." Vil replied, answering the question you dare not speak out loud. "His interest was different from my own, but he has a habit of... hunting those who catch his eye. And he would cheerfully admit defeat as you used your comrades as a smoke screen to avoid his intrigue." Vil laughed lightly. "Very brave to try and out maneuver Rook. That little trick was your downfall. That's when I knew, yes, the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm was indeed avoiding me, without a doubt."

"My only question is why?" The Fairest of them All firmly kept your gaze as he questioned your reasoning.

~~~

You look so very uncomfortable with his gaze. Vil couldn't fathom why, he had never done a thing to hurt you, never approached you. You weren't on bad terms with anyone in his dorm. Why did you tremble like a leaf when he his eyes rested on you?

"Your very being terrifies me. You're beautiful, confident, and you take matters into your own hands." You begin, actually trembling. "You've never hurt me, you've never bullied me, but I've been burnt before and you were too beautiful to trust."

Vil absorbs this in and lets you talk. He's not mad, still confused, but you did have real fear, that much he could tell. His eyes widened when you took off your jacket, revealing a dark secret that most wouldn't notice. "Wait-" he began, reaching a hand out and retracting it when you flinched.

Before him you were exposing something deeply personal and dark. To most, it wouldn't stand out much. To a man with a morning, noon and night skin routine, he could see all the faded scars.

"I'm broken and tired, and that was long before I got here." You began, soft voice still trembling slightly, hands running up and down your arms gently, as if reminding yourself of each self inflicted mark, the history of each one and the ragged reminders that marred your pale skin.

"I knew you'd be able to tell right away. Someone as strict as you with appearances? There's no way you wouldn't be able to tell that these were self inflicted." You laughed bitterly. "And this is just what is visible to the polite eye. The thought of anyone but myself knowing terrified me." Fat tears slowly began to slip and your lip trembled as you continued. "The judgment from someone as put together and confident as you would send me back to that dark space, and I'm all ready desperately trying to survive as is." You smiled sadly.

"So yes, thankfully for me, I noticed Rook's strange interest," you laughed quietly. "Call it experience of being hunted back home. Only this time I had friends. I could blend in with my Heartlabyul boys and Grimm. Azul was easy to use as an excuse, working for the lounge, so I always had 3 or more pairs of eyes, especially when I told the Tweels how uncomfortable Rook made me." You paused with a soft smile. "Floyd especially did not take that well, offering to 'squeeze' him. Of course I declined, Rook wasn't cruel or mean, I was just scared."

"Then there was of course Leona. As lazy as he appears, he takes my comfort very seriously, making sure to be around me whenever I needed 'alone time', using it as an excuse to nap either with or near me. So when Rook did show up, he'd be distracted by the sleepy lion, and Ruggie would help me slip away." You were proud to have found such comforting and genuine friends.

"And despite it all, you're here. I couldn't refuse you or Rook. Everyone is so excited about the SDC, how could I ruin that for them when they've done so much for me?" You used both hands and rubbed always the tears trying to regain control of your own emotions.

"Please Vil, please just leave me alone and I'll do my very best for your comfort and for the SDC. Even beyond the SDC, I'll run myself ragged for you. Please I'm begging you, please just leave me alone." You begged, starting to pull the jacket back on.

"Fuck." Was all that escaped Vil's pursed lips as he pulled you into an embrace, gently rubbing circles on your back with his left palm. "No. I refuse. I won't let you keep carrying your burden alone. I won't STOP bothering you until you see how strong and beautiful you are." He felt your flinch, but what he felt more were your tears as you pressed your face against his chest gently sobbing.

"You won't be alone with your thoughts anymore. I cannot share or bare your burden, but I can ease the affect it has on you. I can be here, I can pamper you, I can listen," he listed off everything he could think of, wanting to assure your comfort. "Sweet Potato, you're more beautiful then you know." He gently ran his hand over a still exposed scar, near invisible with time, but he knew skin better than most. "Each one is a sad story, with a beautiful ending. You survived Sweet Potato. Each is a badge of survival, and you deserved to survive." He assure you as he brushed away tears that he could.

"But you'll never need to hurt yourself again. I will make sure of it." He finished, closing his eyes and resting his cheek on the top of your head, gently humming a gentle soft sound as you both stood there embracing, letting this new feeling and friendship sink in.

[these-written-reveries]

might be too angsty but can you write a ledger!joker x reader with a reader who self harms? either catching them in the middle of the act or seeing the scars they were trying to keep hidden?

Hello! First of all, thank you for your request! I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to write this at first, particularly because it's such a sensitive subject. The last thing I'd ever want is to upset or cause emotional harm to those who may be struggling with this themselves. That said, I want my writings to be a source of good and bring solace to those that are in need of it, so I decided to try my best and write it anyway.

I chose to keep things vague and without too much detail to help minimize the triggering aspects of this subject. Please use your own discretion when choosing whether to proceed with reading and let me know if there is anything wrong with this piece that I should fix. I hope this fulfills your wishes, nonnie. Sending all my love to you and anyone else who may be struggling with this. I strongly encourage you to seek the help/support that you deserve ❤️

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-Try-

‣ Pairing: Ledger!Joker/Jack Napier x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: J finally comes face-to-face with the pain you've been carrying alone all this time and tries to help you bear the weight of it.

‣ Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

‣ Warnings: self-harm (no details mentioned of the act/object used), blood (minor references), scars/fresh wounds (no details), panic, breakdown/crying.

‣ Word Count: 2,226

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

L!Joker/Jack Napier Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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It was just past midnight when J unlocked your apartment door and slipped inside. He was dressed in a casual outfit consisting of a black hoodie and jeans, the hood pulled up over his head and a surgical mask covering the lower half of his face. After locking the door behind him, he dropped the hood and pulled the mask off, shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie as he walked further into your apartment.

“Where’s my little dove?” he called out, announcing his presence so as not to frighten you.

It was becoming more of a frequent habit for Jack to come over to your place, especially to sleep. He’d usually let you know when he’d be coming through call or text, but today he hadn’t the time. In fact, he wasn’t planning on coming over at all today. But after the nonsense he’d been dealing with recently regarding work, he wanted nothing more than to pay a visit to his love to set his frazzled mind back in order. At this point, you were pretty used to him showing up at odd hours of the night to visit you, so he figured it wouldn’t be a problem if he stopped by tonight. You were always complaining about not seeing him enough anyway.

While your romantic relationship was still somewhat new, you’d known each other for quite a while by now. He’d spent months trying to woo you, which proved to be a bigger challenge than he had initially expected. Jack knew he wasn’t the most desirable man in the world, but he could tell that wasn’t the only thing holding you back from accepting his affections right away. There was more to you than met the eye, and he was determined to know all the complexities of you.

Jack had no problem taking his time with you. You seemed to appreciate this, so he allowed you to set the pace of your relationship. You hadn’t expected Jack to be so patient with you, yet he was, exceedingly so. He didn’t pressure you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with, and he didn’t judge you for your “odd” tendencies. As J saw it, he was more than a bit odd himself, so who was he to judge? In taking your time to build your relationship together, he’d learned a lot about the little intricacies of who you were, but there was a hidden part of you he had yet to become acquainted with. A mystery he could never seem to solve, until today.

Knocking lightly on your bedroom door, he found it to be unlocked and quietly turned the handle. You hadn’t responded to his previous call, so he figured you were asleep. His assumptions were found to be correct when he spotted you curled up on your bed wearing one of his long-sleeved button-down shirts and a pair of underwear. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you before walking over to the other side of the bed. There you lied, facing the empty spot where he normally slept, the lamp you left on providing the perfect amount of light for him to admire your beautiful features. Though, the smile that began to tug at his lips upon seeing your face quickly faded as he noticed the puffiness of your eyes and tear stains on the pillow you were lying on.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he removed his shoes and hoodie and left them on the floor beside the bed before carefully climbing onto the mattress. Successfully managing to lie down beside you without waking you, he silently observed your face. Seeing you upset or hurt elicited the worst feelings in him. The emotion that manifested most frequently in him was anger. But the feelings he felt in moments like these were much more complex than that; so complex he couldn’t fully make sense of them. All he knew was that it made his chest ache and his stomach twist in a way that made him feel sick.

Deciding to take the risk of waking you, he gently brushed his knuckles against your cheek, his painted lips curling up into a fond smile as you subconsciously nuzzled against his fingers before going still once more. He continued, moving his hand down to trail his fingertips over your shoulder all the way to your fingertips. He glanced down at your other arm, that which lied between the two of you with your hand tucked under the pillow that supported your head. His fingers traveled to this arm, about to continue their journey when they suddenly froze in place at the familiar sight of crimson. Upon second glance, Jack immediately recognized this to be exactly what he thought it was. At first, he considered it to be an old stain—it was his shirt, after all, but it was too fresh for that to be the case.

Alarms began going off in his head as he went through all the possible scenarios of how you could have been hurt. It wasn’t uncommon to experience physical attacks in the dangerous city of Gotham—even more likely if anyone were to find out about your relationship with the infamous Joker. This is why J taught you how to physically protect yourself and gave you self-defense weapons to keep with you in case anything were to happen. He was also very careful when it came to keeping your relationship hidden from the rest of the world. Along with these things, he took a handful of other measures to keep you safe, making sure to cover all the bases. His biggest fear was you getting hurt, or worse, and him being unable to stop it. He’d do anything to shield you from any potential threats or harm that could ever come your way.

Yet, he’d never once considered self-inflicted harm to be such a substantial threat to his lover…

As he carefully pulled back the red-stained sleeve, his heart sank. He remained still as he stared at the scars and fresh wounds that covered your skin. At this point, you had awoken and immediately felt an impending sense of doom begin to fill your being at the sight of Jack looking directly at what you had tried to keep hidden from him for so long. You yanked your arm away and quickly sat up, pulling the sleeves back over your arms and hiding the rest of your body with the covers. Tears filled your eyes and panic manifested within your chest as an inability to breathe, the racing thoughts in your mind causing you to spiral even faster.

“I’m sorry,” your voice cracked as you uttered the words at barely above a whisper. You were trembling now, squeezing your eyes closed as your mind fed you every worst-case scenario in the book.

Silence.

Oh, how you hated to hear it.

It only provided your mind with more room to insert its own terrible thoughts and ideas about what J was thinking of you.

Unable to open your eyes, yet unable to stand the silence any longer, you spoke again. “Please…say something. If you’re mad or whatever, just say-”

“No.” His sudden interruption startled you, but you were still relieved to hear something come out of his mouth.

“Look at me,” he spoke firmly, but there was something else to the tone of his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You were too afraid to open your eyes for fear that you'd see nothing but disgust and disappointment staring right back at you.

You felt the mattress shift beneath you as J moved closer to you. A tear fell from your eyes that was swiped away by the pad of his thumb before your chin was gently grasped between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up slightly. This time, you bravely opened your eyes to look at your love before you. Instantly, you were met with a strange look in his eyes. Different than any look he’d ever given you before. One filled with so much love, yet carried with it a lingering sadness. This look alone pierced your heart and made it even harder not to crumble to bits into his lap.

“I’m not mad at you. Ya got that?”

The truth is, he was mad at himself. Particularly for not recognizing sooner. He was so observant when it came to you and yet he had completely missed this. It made his stomach turn to think that you had been struggling alone this whole time, unbeknownst to him.

Now everything made sense. All the “odd” tendencies you exhibited on a frequent basis. The way you avoided certain intimate interactions with him. He always thought you just didn't like to be touched that much, so he used his touch sparingly with you and only in ways he knew you were comfortable with. The way you remained so covered up, even when it was blazing hot. In his mind, he assumed you were just insecure about your body and after bringing it up once and seeing you shut down in response, he chose not to press on the subject again until you were ready to talk about it. So many things he could now link directly back to this. How stupid he felt for not being able to piece it together sooner. He could’ve been there for you this whole time and he wasn’t.

But as he looked at you now, your lip quivering as you nodded in response to him, he realized that what really mattered was being there for you now.

“Alright. C’mere.” He held his arms out and you blinked at him, unmoving.

"Do ya want a hug or not? Hm?"

Upon hearing this, you wasted no further time diving into his embrace. He pulled you close, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other wound securely around your waist. You finally burst into tears and clung to him tightly, making his attempt to move the two of you into a better position much more of a struggle, but he managed.

"Hush-ush-ush, it's okay, doll. I got ya,” he cooed softly at you.

He was ever so careful now with where his fingers touched you, choosing to keep them stationed at your back where they gently ran up and down your spine. This soothing touch paired with the sound of him shushing you softly between pressing kisses to your head was enough to calm you down much faster than you normally would have on your own. Now your sobs had dwindled down to mere sniffles and your tears were slowing their pace.

Recognizing this, Jack finally decided to speak again.

"Ya know, I'm always here for you, doll. You might think this changes how I feel about you, but it doesn't. Not one bit."

He could feel your body shake with quiet sobs in response to his words, his shirt being further soaked with your salty tears. He squeezed you a bit tighter.

"Will you let me help you? I'm not sayin' I have all the answers or that it'll be easy, ‘cause it won't. But we're in this together now, toots. I'll do whatever it takes to get ya through this. I mean it."

You were silent for a moment before you looked up at him and hesitantly nodded. The vulnerable look on your face was enough to break what was left of your clown’s heart as his eyes begin to sting slightly. He clenched his jaw to hold back his tears and pressed his lips to your forehead before pulling you closer against him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued to speak.

"We'll figure it out together, hm? Ya got me now. So you better come to me when you're feeling like doing it again. Doesn’t matter what I'm doing. Ya know I’ll drop everything for you."

"It's…hard for me to do that in the moment,” you confessed quietly. J nodded in understanding and gave you another small squeeze of reassurance.

"Try your best, doll. That's all I'm askin’. I don't expect ya not to slip up from time to time. I'll still be here when you do. But ya gotta help me help you. Alright?"

"Mhm…” You nodded in agreement.

"That's my doll." He kissed the top of your head, leaving traces of face paint in your hair. "I love you, and all that sappy shit,” he muttered.

You let out a small breathy laugh and pressed a kiss to his chest before squeezing him tighter. "I love you, J. Thank you."

J scoffed, but a tiny smile tugged at his lips all the same. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, I don't need your thanks. I just need ya to be strong for me. Think you can do that?"

"I'll try my best.”

"Good. You do that and I'll take care of the rest. I got your back, toots.” He kissed your head and squeezed you again for good measure, his fingers traveling from your back, up to your cheek, grazing over your tear-stained skin. He stared at you affectionately as you nuzzled against his touch.

Looking up at him once more, you offered him the best smile you could muster in the moment. It was weak, but you were trying. And that was enough.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

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[ebullientheart]

doctor who. spencer reid x reader

content — fluff. spencer is sad for a bit. fem!reader. just tooth rotting fluff. blurb. doctor who reference.

spencer feels insignificant, but that’s why he has you.

a bad case had every agent shellshocked. it always did. when they had such streaks of success, a failure felt like a full breakdown of their abilities, like suddenly they just weren’t good enough. they were the best of the best, but still human, and they tended to forget that.

especially doctor spencer reid. often, he felt alienated becuase of his intellectual capacity, but he was used to that isolation. it was a dull pain. but what was always raw, and fresh, was suddenly feeling out of touch with this defining quality, like maybe he wasn’t that smart after all. the comedown from that tore at his heart everytime.

you were getting ready for bed, swiping cleanser over your face, followed by moisturiser, when you looked out of the bathroom into your bedroom. spencer was sat, rigid, under the covers, just blinking slowly. he hadn’t picked up his book, he hadn’t turned on his reading light, which is what he usually did for at least half an hour before sleep. but it didn’t look like he was going to do that either.

the confusion, the sadness, it was painted harshly on his face, in his eyes. you hated that.

“hey,” you whispered, switching off the bathroom light and swinging yourself into bed. you leant over to kiss him on the cheek, and he turned slightly towards you, but gave no other indication he heard.

leaving your lamp on, you straightened yourself and bit the bullet, “do you want to talk about this, spencer?”

his name tumbling from your lips is what had him looking at you, finally. the way you said it, with so much love that he just felt undeserving of, grabbed his attention, though cruelly. undeserving.

he stammered, “i- i don’t know…”

he wondered if you were aware of the way you looked at him, tracing your fingers lightly over the side of his face. his heart was skipping a beat, probably another, just from your lovestruck look. pure, soulful warmth spread from your fingertips to his skin, almost reminding him of his worth, to you if nothing else. but the gripping reminder of loss stopped him embracing it.

“i’m not… i’m not as smart as i was. or thought i was. i guess it’s just, now, i’m not needed or… important.”

the words were hushed, hurt. you sucked in a breath at the self hatred rolling from his voice, clearly what he thought to be the truest sentences he could muster.

it wasn’t often you remembered phrases from the many shows and books he showed you. you engaged with them at the time, but they tended to slip your mind after a while.

“that’s incredible.”

spencer looked up from his hands with a frown, “what?”

“in all my years of time and space, i’ve never met anyone that wasn’t important.”

it seemed to let his guard down enough for him to process the love you were trying to force into his mind, his lungs, his chest, wherever you could make it stick. he practically glowed.

as a kindness, he didn’t point out that your wording was off, instead pulling you closer for a chaste, sweet kiss, and to allow to fully cup his face in your palms, “i love you very much, spencer, but i’m not biased when i say that you are brilliant. and smart. and lovely, and loved, and a hero. you are a very, very attractive genius.”

he smirked, “i never said i wasn’t attractive.”

“i felt like reminding you.”

then he kissed you again, slightly less chaste, but impossibly sweeter, his hands kind against the slope of your back.

his speech was muffled as he refused to pull more than millimetres away from your lips, as he declared, “you’re too good to me.”

“i can stop.” you teased.

again, between his mouth on yours, “don’t you dare.”

[lunar-years]

How’s the arm?

Tentative footsteps patter over the hardwood floor, inching closer; but it’s Jamie’s voice that reaches him first: “How’s the arm?”

Roy immediately bristles, unable to stop his voice from rising several decibels as he snaps, “I’ve already told you half a fucking dozen times in the past hour, Jamie, it’s the exact fucking same as it was twenty minutes ago, and yes I’m fucking fine, and I’ll kindly remind you again that you fucking promised me you’d stop fucking asking—” he stops mid-sentence, registering what exactly Jamie said at the same time the man crosses into his line of vision, letting Roy spot the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He blinks, momentarily thrown. Arm?

Jamie shrugs, and even that small motion is somehow made exuberant under his determinedly bright demeanor. His face breaks into a gleeful smile, ear-to-ear, right pleased with himself. 

Fucking hell. Roy has no idea how the prick has managed to stay this damn cheerful all day, considering he’s spent the whole of it waiting on his temporarily useless, opposite-of-cheerful boyfriend hand and foot. Keeping him confined to the miserable prison of his living room sofa, flipping through the sport channels with a commendable level of steady enthusiasm—even though the best they’ve had on offer were the bloody table tennis Olympic trials that ended an hour again—and fretting, every single second of every blasted minute, over Roy and his knee. Whether the pillow under Roy’s knee is fluffed enough, and whether Roy's morning brew has gone cold and could do for urgent replacement, and whether Roy needs help getting to the toilet before he pisses down his own leg. Jamie’s there all right, for all of it, and he’s bloody relentless. 

Roy appreciates it. Truly, he does. It’s also driving him completely up the fucking wall, just a little. Two things can be true. 

Jamie keeps right on smiling. “What?” he says innocently, sitting down next to Roy and handing over his latest freshly-warmed mug of tea, “I’m not having you on, it was a real question. Since you’re going to be a bit out of commission on the really agile shit for a while and all,” here he nods sympathetically in the direction of Roy’s mangled up, patchworked knee, the frankensteinish surgery scar thankfully covered up by fresh dressings (also courtesy of Jamie) and tucked atop Keeley’s fluffiest pillow. “Sorry,” he continues in a stage-whisper, hands going up like Roy's a feral cat he's trying not to set off, “know you want me to pretend like this ain’t happening, and I’m trying, swear down! But, well. Me point is, so long as your arm’s still in working form...we can at least exchange handies!” He beams at him again with great pride, like mutual handjobs are the certifiable cure to Roy’s every ailment, and Jamie’s the dutiful nurse who gets to present the good news and administer the necessary dosage.

(And well, a wank’s a wank, so. Roy’s willing to give it a shot.)

Instead of saying that, he chucks the pillow behind his back at his boyfriend's head and rolls his eyes in Jamie's direction, faking a pout. “All you care about is my cock,” he accuses half-heartedly. 

“Yes, poor, hard-done Roy, with a dead sexy boyfriend who wants him for his body as much as his mind,” Jamie grins, leaning in to give him a kiss. With lips practically still brushing Roy’s own, he adds, gentler, “I also thought, um. It might help, you know? With what you were saying earlier. I’m really sorry I made you feel like that.” 

Roy brow furrows. He wades back amongst all the day's many horrors to figure out which one in particular Jamie could be referring to. It must’ve been the last time, when he was snapping at the pair of them to stop bloody asking about his knee all the time. You’re both making me feel like a fucking pensioner. Then, to Jamie specifically, I’m not actually your fucking grandad, you know. You don’t have to treat me like I’m two steps from the care home. It was around that time Keeley excused herself for a drive to the pharmacy, bristling at him with intense displeasure and that familiar get yourself together look in her eyes on her way out. Soon after, after an comfortable stretch of moody silence, Jamie muttered something about more tea, and disappeared into the kitchen for far longer than it took to whip up a new brew. 

So yeah, he owes them both an apology, clearly. Again.

He looks at his boyfriend, now aching with guilt on top of everything else, most pressingly the persistent sting that seems to extend his whole leg, making it very hard to focus on anything good, even his very good boyfriend. His very good boyfriend who’s only trying to help him. Fuck. 

Jamie’s still got his eyes locked on his, searching his face for reassurance. Hesitant, like he’s half expecting Roy to get angry and snap at him again for bringing it up. It’s so sincere it slices Roy smoothly in half.

“I,” he starts. Shuts his mouth. Starts again, “I’m sorry for that, babe. Look, I won't pretend I didn't mean some of it. I do feel…I dunno. Not even old, just…useless? I guess. But you’re not the one making me feel like that, it’s my own shit. I never should have said that to you, or to Keeley. I likehow you take care of me.” He threads his fingers through Jamie’s and gives them a squeeze. “It’s just…hard for me to let you.” He chokes over the last part a bit, from the clumsy embarrassment of his own feelings. Immediately redirects his gaze onto their locked palms.

But Jamie responds without hesitation, his shoulders already relaxing as he says briskly, “You’re forgiven.” Like it’s simple. Like Roy’s someone easy to forgive. Fuck, he still doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this. Jamie leans back, smile softer now, more natural. It takes on a cheeky edge as he adds, “And I know a way you can make it up to me, yeah?” with a wink and a crude hand gesture. Right back around to where they started.

Roy rolls his eyes again, filled with adoration for this ridiculous man. “We can’t fix everything with sex.” 

“We can make a brave go of trying, though," he offers solemnly, lips quirked.

Roy laughs despite himself, but it’s cut off by a sharp sting to his knee, making him wince before he can help it. His boyfriend’s face droops immediately. This time though, Jamie keeps his hands forcibly pinned to his sides, trying so hard not to hover, not to be too much. It makes Roy crack open even further. He really fucked this up.

“Can we wait for Keeley to get back first?” he suggests carefully, eyes meeting Jamie’s as his fingers brush circles on the back of his hand. “Ought to apologize to her, too.” 

“Definitely. Also, she’ll definitely enjoy this. Vulnerability really does it for her.” Jamie waggles his eyebrows playfully, seemingly resigned to brushing over the moment of tension, but Roy doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger for a second too long over Roy’s features, as if trying to catch the slightest grimace that could help him suss out Roy's pain level. Jamie needs him to be honest here; Roy forces himself to let him in. 

“I think I need my meds, first,” he admits. “Knee really fucking hurts. Got worse just now. And maybe, um…you could, with the pillow?” 

Jamie, perfect as he is, needs no further instruction. His hands fly towards the cushion, readjusting it carefully into a more supportive position. “Anything else, babe?” he asks as he fluffs, focus entirely on the pillow. 

“Jay.” 

His boyfriend’s head snaps up again, and Roy gestures him to slow down, and sit back. As soon as Jamie’s back’s against the sofa cushion again, Roy tosses his arm around him and tugs him in as close as possible. “I just want you,” he whispers. Then he lets himself shut his eyes and sink into the calm, knowing Jamie's got him. 

[the-peak-tmnt]

Hey there! 👋 I just finished reading the latest chapter of Reciprocity and (hope I'm not bothering you) but I wanted to say all of this while it was still fresh in my mind!

Firstly: I love love LOVE how you lightly touched on Splinter and Raph's relationship pre-losing Leo before things got tense between them. It was just SUCH a nice breath of fresh air from how things currently are with them 😭 (hope they'll have that father & son relationship again someday).

Secondly: Love how you're giving us a glimpse into Leo's anxiety. As someone with crippling anxiety myself, I HEAVILY RELATE TO OUR BOY. And did he almost tell Raph about his spiritual connection!? (I forgot exactly what you called/described it as in your fic, but I noticed it!!)

Thirdly: Your overall world building and real-life references are always such a delight to read. You really make the story and characters FEEL believable, like the film was aiming to do! So reading about them receiving fan-mail and art from kids is SO SWEET.

I know this is already long (sorry); but there's one thing I'd like to ask. The part with the little girl wearing the armbrace and bandanna in Raph's colours WARMED MY HEART. So, this may be a silly question to ask, but will that girl ever make an appearance again?

I understand the point was so that Raph realized the importance of them being "heroes" and inspiring people. I just can't help but imagine a scenario where he randomly runs into her again after everything that's happened. (Not saying you have to put this in your story - pls don't do that omw this YOUR baby!!). It's just something I've been thinking about for HOURS - it really stuck with me.

Again, sorry this was quite long! 🙈 Keep up the great work, take your time, and stay amazing! ✨️

Ahhhhh you are SPOILING ME today! First the fan art on Twitter, now this wonderful comment 😭 And it's never a bother to hear from someone!!!

Firstly: I love love LOVE how you lightly touched on Splinter and Raph's relationship pre-losing Leo before things got tense between them.

Glad you liked that! I really wanted to give everyone a glimpse of "the good old days" (if only to make the current state of things even more painful lol)

Secondly: Love how you're giving us a glimpse into Leo's anxiety. As someone with crippling anxiety myself, I HEAVILY RELATE TO OUR BOY.

On the one hand, I am really sorry to hear that. But on the other, I'm glad that more than a few people have said the way the boys are written feels authentic and relatable. The things the boys are struggling with are delicate subjects, and I'm trying my best handle them appropriately and do them justice.

And did he almost tell Raph about his spiritual connection!? (I forgot exactly what you called/described it as in your fic, but I noticed it!!)

Leo was trying to tell Raph about it! At that point, everyone thinks Leo is just a really sensitive and empathetic guy. I don't want to give too much away, but at that point, Leo was beginning to realize that what he was feeling was something more than that. It's freaking him out though, and Raph was the only person he felt comfortable enough telling back then 😭

I haven't actually given it a "name" per se, because Raph still isn't really aware of it when he's awake. I've been using a few different words interchangeably like connection, bond, link, etc. As things progress and we learn more, my plan is to have one of the characters give it an "official" name.

Thirdly: Your overall world building and real-life references are always such a delight to read. You really make the story and characters FEEL believable, like the film was aiming to do! So reading about them receiving fan-mail and art from kids is SO SWEET.

THANK YOU! I just really really love world building, and I especially love the world building of Mutant Mayhem. It feels real and believable. Its just really fun to sit here and think about how this would play out in the real world (even the boring and logistical parts like having to go to the post office or how they're able to pay for things lol).

I know this is already long (sorry); but there's one thing I'd like to ask. The part with the little girl wearing the armbrace and bandanna in Raph's colours WARMED MY HEART. So, this may be a silly question to ask, but will that girl ever make an appearance again?

akjshfgaksdfhdsaf I can't tell you but...!!!! Sort of! Kind of! Not her specifically, but there will be another Raph and "little kid looking up to him as a hero" moment that's very important and a huge turning point in the whole story and it is taking EVERYTHING I have not to give too much away!!!!!!! WHY CAN'T I WRITE FASTER?!?!

Thanks again so much, I love comments and asks!