#suffer from mood swings. though i hope you liked my response to this!! i wanted to keep it a little brief so i wrote slightly less than i-

[mad-hunts]

@stamour asked: “Need an extra set of hands?” (warning tho love is terrible at cooking bc they refuse to listen to directions 🫶)

whilst in the midst of chopping up carrots, and quickly too, barton's ears caught his guest asking him whether he needed help. he could only manage a contemplative hum at that at first; barton was already done mincing the garlic and almost finished slicing up the carrots, so he guessed that just left the onion to chop up. he'd made up his mind then since it would be kind of rude to not let them help after they so nicely volunteered to do so. barton nodded then, gesturing at the knive-set a little ways away from him, ❝ oh — sure, why not? this whole process would probably go a little faster if i had somebody help me. grab one of those knives over there if you can, will you? ❞ he shot the other a small smile to make sure that he didn't seem too pushy about it.

but then again, whenever he was cooking, it appeared as if barton was almost always in a good mood. so it was probably fine, he thought, while barton dumped the last of the now shredded carrots into a measuring cup. oh... damn, he just realized that he should probably ask how love feels about squash before continuing. what he was making was a very vegetable based dish. barton offered them the onion before he forgot, taking a glance inside the pan currently on the oven, ❝ and now that you've got that, please chop this up for me. it's going to be a part of the sauce that's going to at the bottom of the ratatouille i'm making. you don't have any problems with eggplant or squash, right? ❞ he sent them a slightly skeptical look from the corner of his eye.

it would suck if they ended up hating both of those, but hey, maybe he could convince them to at least give it a try. barton added the carrots to the garlic that was already simmering in the pan and cleared his throat, ❝ i have to say that i was a little surprised that you decided to take me up on my offer for dinner, though i know i did say that i wanted to repay you for what you did for me. so if you don't mind my asking, what ultimately made you decide to accept it? ❞ a soft tap-tap-tap resounded from his sharp nails as he drummed them on the counter, which was a force of habit. barton rose a hand up suddenly like he was trying to nonverbally say ' oh, wait, ' ❝ and by that, i mean pleasantly surprised. not the bad kind of surprise, just in case you were wondering. ❞ a distinct undertone of amusement was now present in his voice as he spoke. it felt like part of him was genuinely intrigued by the fact love did a good deed for him, so this niceness he was putting on might not have been entirely artificial, after all.

[wasteofbandagesxx]

Too young

{Dazai x reader}

"Hey Y/n, what's your dream?"

You thought long and hard on that question. You've never considered what you wanted to be when you first joined the mafia, but recently you came up with a dream. A life that your heart truly desires.

"Isn't it obvious? I want to become an amazing artist and write poems."

You knew living in the port mafia life wasn't easy. Dreams hardly come true once you join the organization. It's no children's playground, but kids are now joining the fights these days, either by choice or force. You've wanted to leave, you had doubts that you would fit into the port mafia, that you would get close to Dazai's level. You try to protect him the best he can, you would gladly sacrifice yourself for him. You've been trying to convince Dazai to run away with you, but he was too stubborn on finding a purpose to live. This isn't the answer, it never was.

"Dazai, listen to me. I know you want to find a purpose to live, but this isn't it. No matter how hard I try convincing you to run away, you would refuse and try committing suicide." You huffed. Dazai just responds with a giggle as he swings upside down on a tree trunk. You look up from the ground, sitting against the tree comfortably on a nice spring day. You glared at the boy covered in bandages but Dazai couldn't care less. "I'm serious Dazai. I want you to have an actual purpose to live, why won't you let me help you?"

Dazai falls silent and shrugs. He's mood immediately changed and it was worrying. "I guess it's because I don't want you to worry so much about me or waste your time. Focus on your purpose, not mine." He said plainly, he took the book you were reading from your hand and pulls it close to his face, surprisingly his face hasn't gone red yet from being upside down for so long. "Hey!"

"This book seems boring, I don't understand how your such a bookworm." He blabberd out as his face slowly turns red, he quickly sits up straight on the tree branch and gasps for air, making you giggle at his suffering. "It's because it's something that a kid would do, they read. We're 14, we should do things that teens do. This book is also interesting, it's full of poems about life and death." You explained before snatching the book from him. Dazai rolled his eyes and hopped off the tree branch to sit by you. You've always questioned yourself if your going to survive or not. You mostly worry about Dazai, wondering if he's gonna survive past his teen years or not.

"Hey Dazai, don't you think we're too young for all this port mafia stuff?" You asked. There was no response, just complete silence. He sighed, shaking his head before turning to look at you seriously. "Y/n, age doesn't matter when it comes to something like this. It all begins with us minors. Even if I were to try and escape with you, they would just bring me back here while you get your brains blown out. I witnessed the old bosses death, I'm Mori's alibi and therefore, I can't just leave. Doesn't matter if we're young, I'm sure we'll make it past our teen years." He said plainly, his eyes showing nothing but regret. Regretting the fact that he had to crush your dreams of escaping, and living a normal life together.

"Bummer....hey, promise me we'll both try to survive until the very end. Let's do it together." You said with hope in your eyes. Dazai was hesitant, and promises meant nothing to him, they were cheap. He couldn't break your heart though, he couldn't refuse to make a promise with you. You held your pinky up for him to make a promise, he couldn't refuse. "Alright, promise." He locked his pinky with yours as the promise was officially made.

"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if you died first, you do suck at keeping promises." You laughed, Dazai scrunched his nose and flicked your cheek. "I, too, can keep my promises!" He huffed "yea right." You joked.

"Tag, your it!" He tags you and runs off with your book, you didn't even notice that he took it. You groaned in annoyance and began to chase him. "Give that back!!"

He just giggled and kept running, "Come and get me!"

"Dazai!!"

8 years later.

At the graveyard. It was beautiful, grave stones decorated and spoiled with gifts. The wind passes by every minute, softly and delicately. Leaf after leaf, they were everywhere as the trees slowly sway back and forth. There was a man, sitting behind a grave stone. The same as always, his humorous personality, his smartness and bravery, covered in bandages, but different clothing. The only things he's missing was a best friend, and closure. Where'd all the times go? The man wonders, staring aimlessly at the sky. He's laughed, and cried, and cried again. He felt lonely. Not only did his feelings change a bit, but his perspective of life as well, to save innocent people.

He joined the arm detective agency, because one of his old friends told him to find a new purpose, to do what's right. It's almost to what you've been telling him back when you were kids. He wishes you could see him now, he wishes you could've kept you alive to this day. "I'm sorry I didn't run away with you, Y/n." He mumbles out, his voice slightly cracking. He sighs deeply and runs his fingers through his hair, remembering the feeling of your hands playing with his hair. He watches the birds that passes by, two birds of a feather he thought as he imagined the two of you flying away to freedom.

"You were right Y/n, we were too young." He mumbles out again, the tone in his voice filled with sadness and sorrow.

"Dazai!" A young man calls out, atsushi nakajima, Dazai's apprentice. He ran up to Dazai with no air in his lungs, as if the little tiger boy was running for hours finding Dazai. "I've been looking for you. Kunikida is gonna be mad if he finds out your slacking off again." Atsushi said while trying to catch his breath. "Sorryy, got a little tired. Let's get going yea?" Dazai immediately put on his playful act and got up to leave, until atsushi struck a question at him.

"By the way, I heard you when I was by that tree over there. What did you mean by we were too young?" He asks. Dazai fell silent, he wasn't aware that he was listening, was too caught up in the moment to notice his apprentice. "It's nothing, let's get going yea? You did say kunikida would get mad if we don't get working, and I don't feel like getting yelled at." He says with a yawn, giving atsushi a playful smile and pats him on the head like a little kitty cat.

"Right!" Atsushi immediately walks away, not bothering for his superior to catch up with him. Dazai's smile quickly disappeared once atsushi left, he took one good look at the grave stone before putting his hands in his pockets and walks away.

Y/n, last name

July 6th 2001- December 23rd 2015

Dazai's mind was constantly on you. Always had these scenarios in his head of you guys living a happy life. The words you've told him were constantly playing in his mind. "Hey Dazai, don't you think we're too young for all this port mafia stuff?" Your voice was constantly nagging at him, he felt sick. As if you were next to him, it was unpleasant, because you aren't actually there. He kept walking with a broken heart, but still kept his head high, trying to stay strong just for you. Your face will forever remain in his memories, and your words. He wish he could've gave you the life you wanted, but that dream was long gone. Your words constantly playing in his mind.

"Too young."

[loopstagirl]

Crashing into his office chair with a long suffering sigh, Jeff Tracy ran a hand wearily over his eyes. They had barely got past the welcoming hugs before the trouble had started. He had hoped this term at Wharton's would have helped sort Alan out, but it seemed the moody teenager was just as moody as ever. He couldn't fault his other boys for the teasing; the light hearted banter had been part of their family meal for as long as Jeff could remember, he would have been worried if it had been any other way.

Yet Alan's reaction showed he still had a long way to go until Jeff considered making him part of the team. He had hoped this break would prove him wrong and he would have been able to talk to his youngest son about starting training in the summer, but after the incident at dinner, Jeff knew that was off the agenda. With a sad smile, he turned to the photos lining the edge of his desk, showing the young and carefree Alan who didn't feel the need to argue against everything his father said. All of his sons looked so young and innocent in the photos, not weighed down by the responsibility of saving the world on a regular basis.

That reminded Jeff of what he had come into his office for in the first place. Alan wasn't the only one causing him grief over the Thunderbirds. Flicking a switch on the panel in front of him, the father patched himself through to the son he needed to have a word with.

"Scott, my office, now." Not waiting for a reply, Jeff disconnected himself, resting back in his chair and allowing it to take his weight. Alan's arrival had already disrupted things on the island if Jeff was summoning his eldest son. He couldn't remember the last time he had used that tone of voice with Scott, not since he was at least Alan's age. At that time, even Alan couldn't compare to the mood swings Scott went through.

"What's up, Dad?" Startled out of his musings by Scott's almost silent arrival, Jeff swung his chair around so he was facing his son. Leaning casually on the doorframe, his eldest child didn't seem to have realised what the tone of voice meant, his posture relaxed as he hooked one hand in his pocket, the other swinging freely.

"Your control of Thunderbird One."

"There is nothing wrong with my control," Scott began, heat beginning to already emerge in his voice as he leapt to the defence of his 'bird without quite knowing what he was defending. His posture had already stiffened, the hand coming out of his pocket as he straightened up, clearly showing his father his military past as he all but stood to attention.

"Not the control, no," Jeff agreed, watching Scott closely for signs to show he knew what he had done. "Let me rephrase that then, your handling of Thunderbird One."

"Dad, what are you talking about?" Scott asked, his tone bordering on rude as he voiced his confusion. He didn't mean to sound blunt, only was completely bewildered as to what his father was referring too. The rescue had gone without a hitch, apart from the rig almost blowing up too soon for the boys to clear it. But with Jeff joining them on the rescue for a change, the team had worked to utter perfection, determined to show their father just how good they were at working together. A previous argument between Virgil and Gordon had made him accompany them this time, declaring he didn't want personal matters getting in the way of their job. Like it would though. Scott knew his brothers well enough to know whatever personally matters were occurring got left behind whenever they turned from Jeff Tracy's sons into the members of International Rescue. Although at the moment, that was not helping the eldest son work out what had his father so annoyed.

"Scott, think. On the way home, what did you do?"

"Fly? I honestly have no idea what you are talking about, Father."

"I'm going to give you one more clue, Scott. Just after we saw your brother."

And then, like a light bulb coming on, Scott knew precisely what he had done that was making his father annoyed. Jeff always had maintained that the ships were not to be used for stunts, something he believed his sons kept too. In range of the island, they did, but sometimes on the way home from a successful mission, one or more of the Tracy boys had the need to display their relief and delight in a job well done. Caught up in the adrenaline from the mission and the excitement at seeing his baby brother, however, Scott Tracy had forgotten his father was in Thunderbird Two

Watching Scott grimace slightly as he suddenly became very interested in his shoes, Jeff was hard pushed not to laugh. His son, whilst being a mature 28 year old that had the role of field commander in one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, looked exactly like the ten year old who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar again. Reminding himself that he was supposed to be angry at his son, not reminiscing in the past, Jeff smoothed his features back into a disapproving look, thankful Scott had been looking down at the time.

"Well?"

"I was testing her thrusters?" Scott offered sheepishly, only meeting his father's eyes momentarily before looking down again, a flush beginning to work its way up his neck.

"Try again," Jeff responded drily, resting further back in his chair to regard his son. He was partly curious as to what Scott would come up with; he had become a scarily talented liar during his teenage years. Although judging by that first attempt, the father was hopefully he wouldn't have to worry.

"She had a mind of her own?"

"Nope, not doing it. Scott, what are the rules regarding the 'birds?"

"Never let Gordon fly One and don't let John near Two's controls when he has had chocolate?" Biting his lip quickly, Jeff rolled his eyes, attempting to desperately stop the smirk emerging. If he was honest, Scott was completely right.

"No, the other rule. And don't say don't let Alan near the 'birds either." Judging by the look that overcame his son's face, Jeff knew he had caught his eldest out there. Once more glancing at his shoes, Scott finally faced his father.

"Sorry."

"Scott, there is a reason why the 'birds cannot be used for stunts. This isn't the air force, son, you can't joyride One, it is far too dangerous."

"I had her completely under control!" Scott burst out suddenly, feeling slightly put out that his father was doubting his piloting skills.

"I don't question that, but you are supposed to be setting an example to your younger brothers, that is why you are the field commander and not the other way around."

"Dad-," Before Scott could continue on an outburst that Jeff had not seen from his son for quite a few years, a shrill beep came out of the monitors in front of him, causing the father to sit forward with a concerned frown making its way onto his face. Checking the readings, Jeff sighed wearily. He was right to think that trouble had arrived back on the normal paradise.

"Hang on, isn't that-?" Once more cutting Scott off, hopefully before he could work out what was going on, Jeff reached out a hand and smoothly hit a button, only to find himself face to face with a worried looking Alan, Fermat just being seen in the corner of the screen.

"Alan, my office, now." Disconnecting again, Jeff couldn't help but notice he had just repeated the exact same words he had used on Scott. Who was going to be next? With a wry grin, Jeff only hoped that it wasn't going to be John. It had happened in the past though, Scott and Brains going up to collect the younger man just so Jeff could have a word. The blond was not always the calmest of people when his brothers' were out on a tricky rescue, and Jeff had been more than astonished by the language that had come out of his star-loving son's mouth. Before his thoughts could go any further, Scott all but exploded, having put together the pieces regarding his youngest brother.

"What the hell did he think he was doing? If he has touched her in the slightest, I swear I'll-,"

"Scott."

"How did he know my access codes? I've changed them since the last holidays to stop him doing this. He better not have-,"

"Scott."

"If anything is wrong, I'm going to kill him."

"Scott, that is enough! Alan is not the question here, you are. Due to your behaviour regarding Thunderbird One, you are to sit out of the next mission." Jeff knew that it was a slightly drastic measure to take, but the father was more than aware that unless he regained control now, the boys were simply going to spiral out of hand. And quickly as well. It was the only way Jeff felt he had any control over them, and if he was honest, he hoped that if Alan could see Scott being put in his place, then the younger brother wouldn't feel like it was just him that was being singled out.

"What?"

"Gordon can take One, Virgil, Two. I need you boys to know I'm serious about the stunts, they are not going to happen."

"Dad!"

"You're grounded for the next mission."

"But Dad..!"

"Bottom line, Scott. I thought you had grown up." Regarding his son coolly, Jeff narrowed his eyes as Scott opened his mouth to protest, but luckily, the young man realised his father's mood and backed down. Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched out of the room, posture tense. So wrapped up in his anger was he that he barely even noticed Alan stalk past him in the opposite direction, face mirroring his eldest brother's.

"Hey, Scott, there you are, dude. Where did you...Scott?"

"Leave it, Virg."

"You alright, man?"

"I said leave it!" Scott snapped, barely sparing his stunned brother a glance as he stormed past. He could not believe that had just happened. Alan had been back on the island for not even an hour and already things were becoming chaotic. Scott couldn't quite work out why his father was so annoyed about the stunt, if anything; it had shown precisely how in control of his baby the ex-air force pilot was. Stalking out of sight and up the stairs, he didn't hear Virgil's low whistle of disbelief.

"You alright, Virgil?" Glancing up from his painting, Virgil spared Gordon a quick glance as the red head strolled casually in.

"Something has stolen our brother and replaced him with the teenage Scott."

"Ouch," Gordon winced, just about remembering enough of Scott's teenage years to know that was not a good thing. "I think he, Dad and Al are having a party in Dad's office, I just saw the Sprout head that way."

"Great. This is going to be fun couple of weeks." Virgil moaned, carefully laying down his paint brush and stepping back to critically examine his work. Biting his lip and slightly poking his tongue out in concentration, the young man made a few corrections before stepping back once more.

"Virg, do you want to come out in the boat with me later? I need a diving buddy." Gordon suddenly suggested hesitantly, hoping his brother was distracted enough to agree without realising what he was agreeing too. Virgil wasn't the first choice for a midnight dive, heck, he wasn't even Gordon's second or third choice. But with Scott in a mood, Alan no doubt heading the same way and John not even on the planet, the red head thought he may as well give it a go.

"I don't know, Gords, I…"

"You need to grow up!"

"Then let me!"

Hearing the angry tones, Virgil glanced over at his brother, eyebrows raised. "Count me in. Can we go now?"

"Give me some time, Virg, I've got to get the stuff-,"

"Alan! If you've touched my 'bird..!"

"Let's go." Gordon practically yelped, and tearing off the old shirt he had been wearing over the top of his own to protect his own, Virgil joined his brother in the mad dash out of the villa and down to the sea front.

Standing at one of the many windows lining his office, Jeff sighed, thinking over the conversation he had just had with John. He was right about Alan, hopefully the kid would grow out of it, but for the life of him, Jeff couldn't work out what had bought on the sudden temper of his eldest. He supposed it was because, intentional or not, he had criticised Scott's handling of his own 'bird, something he knew the pilot would have taken to heart. Seeing a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, Jeff turned and allowed the smile to form for the first time that night. Virgil and Gordon certainly weren't sticking around for this storm; they were making a break for it whilst they could. For a moment, Jeff wondered whether he should remind them of protocol regarding going out at night, how everyone needed to know where they were in case of a rescue, but hearing the shouting match taking place between his eldest and youngest, Jeff shook his head. He envied them that they could escape.

Little did he know quite how much he would long for that escape himself within the next couple of days.

[linawritestwst]

Ahem, now that I'm done making a fool of myself expressing my gratitude to you, I'd like to make another request please! How about Trey, Jamil, and Idia with a younger sibling reader that is a bit of a brat and has mood swings a lot, kinda like Floyd? (Haha...I'm totally not projecting here) They're such reliable big brothers, right~?

trey, jamil and idia with a chaotic younger sibling headcanons (gn!reader)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

thank you for waiting, i hope you like it! (also congrats on 1k followers, aurora!~)

trey clover.

♡ trey is a responsible and reliable big brother and he loves you just as much he loves all other siblings. but you sure are.. unique. other siblings don't get into trouble as much as you do. trey has to watch you all the time, so that you won't do anything dangerous or something you will regret doing later.

♡ you like to ask (well, not really ask, it's more like you force him to do it) trey for more attention, he has so many siblings, what if he forgets about you? sometimes you pull pranks on him or annoy him just to get a reaction out of him. but trey stays calm most of the time anyway.

♡ trey is even kind of thankful to you, because with a sibling like this he's prepared for anything. if someone asks "woah, trey, how did you know what to do in this situation?", oh, he most likely knows it because you've done something like that in the past and he had to deal with it. if trey hears someone calling guys like ace and deuce troublemakers, he thinks of you and he just goes "oh, you haven't seen y/n yet"

♡ trey really, really wants to be more strict with you, but he just.. can't do it. he just can't say "no" to you, you are his sibling and he loves you! also, sometimes things that you do are actually very fun and he may even join you. or at least, watch you do it, so that you won't get hurt or caught.

jamil viper.

♡ why. why jamil has to suffer like this. he already has kalim and najma isn't exactly a "cute and soft" little sister. and he also has to deal with you. give jamil a break, he deserves it.

♡ you really like to annoy jamil and prank him, because come on, jamil not looking so serious and calm as usual is so funny! you like to catch him off-guard and do something he definitely didn't expect from you. (he just doesn't know what he's supposed to expect from you anymore) jamil WILL remember what you've done and he WILL have his revenge. he will either try to prank you back or he will just say something like "oh well, i guess i won't cook for you anymore". but you have to admit, that his attempts at getting back at you are actually quite impressive sometimes.

♡ if najma is around, she will totally join you. you two are unstoppable together. but if jamil notices you, you two run and you don't even try to protect each other. you and najma would definitely point fingers at each other and say things like "she did it!" "no, they did!" "i'm telling you, it was her!" but it doesn't matter, jamil knows that you both are guilty.

♡ even though you like to give jamil a hard time, jamil still loves you, because you're still his sibling and you're still a part of his family. he usually looks very tired around you, but he actually thinks that you should never change. if you become more serious and mature, it will get kind of.. boring without you teasing him and pranking him all the time.

idia shroud.

♡ ortho? a cute and adorable younger brother, very nice, very kind. you? EVIL. JUST PURE EVIL IN IDIA'S EYES. can't you just leave him alone for at least one minute? no, one second! JUST ONE SECOND, PLEASE. this guy just wants to be left alone in his room, he wants to play games, HE DOESN'T WANT TO DEAL WITH YOU.

♡ your mood swings?? he has no idea what to do when they happen?? he will be absolutely lost and try to calm you down and will actually worry about you. you can take use of it and manipulate him, if you want.

♡ a chaotic younger sibling with random mood swings that won't leave him alone? that's bad. a chaotic younger sibling with random mood swings that won't leave him alone AND WHO'S BETTER THAN HIM AT GAMES? EVEN WORSE. he absolutely HAS to win. if ortho sees you two gaming and yelling at each other, he will just.. look at you like this :( ortho going :( is the only thing that can stop you and idia from arguing.

♡ if idia sees you spending time with ortho, he's taking ortho away from you. ortho doesn't need your bad influence. he's a pure baby boy, what if he learns something from you?? but even though some people might think that idia obviously likes ortho more, he loves both of his siblings equally. you're just.. quite a difficult person to deal with, you know? but it doesn't mean that idia hates you. sometimes he does say something like that (things like "why are you always so loud?" or "can you stop being so annoying??"), but he doesn't really mean it.

[poisonmaximoff]

BELATED FATE (Elizabeth Olsen x FemReader).

The whole story: here.

Chapter 13. Avoided mistakes

Y/n's POV:

I fully understand where this is leading to. Her eyes filled with tenderness, staring at my lips, slightly stifled breathing and an almost hot hand on my knee, all of it speaks of her intention to kiss me right now. She has no idea how much I want this, it would mean the whole world to me, but I just can't let her do it, despite my burning, nearly unbearable desire.

She is off-limits for me. I know for sure that she isn't ready to destroy everything around her that has been created over the years. She doesn't know what she's doing now and probably doesn't realize that this temporary interest will have its consequences. Perhaps it's just a short-term surge of emotions, for which she consciously doesn't bear any responsibility, and tomorrow she will already forget about it.

I see this woman only as something unachiavale for me and I have already come to terms with it. I'm more than happy to have her in my life without being able to call her mine, even though it hurts sometimes. Therefore, no matter how strong the attraction between us is, it will only lead to broken hearts and suffering. She deserves much better than that and I'm not the person, who can provide her with it.

I can't betray our friendship and the feeling of heavenly comfort by exchanging it for a momentary forbidden pleasure that has no future. Therefore, when Elizabeth's warm breath noticeably touches my face and only a few inches left between our lips, I turn my head so that she only touches my cheek with the tip of her nose.

"The weather today is amazing, isn't it?" I say the first thing that comes to my mind to get us distracted as soon as possible.

I can feel El moving away from me, taking her hand off my knee and turning her attention to the beauty around us. Putting my hands under my thighs (I'm used to doing this when I'm nervous) and waiting a few more seconds, I look up at her again, only to see a mixture of slight bewilderment and confusion on her face. I know she's probably feeling disappointed right now, but we'll both be grateful for that later.

"Yes, indeed." She forces a smile out of herself, trying not to let the awkward silence hang between us, but doesn't succeed in that. I notice how she begins to play with the rings on her slim fingers and I immediately want to fix the tension in the air by all costs.

"Look," I say, pointing at a nearby ice cream truck, "let's go mix some flavors of ice cream and see if that's still good, hm?" I give her a warm smile, hoping that her mood will improve a little bit and she returns my favorite bright grin to me in a while.

"Let's go, but don't complain about stomach pain later or brain freeze, okay? I won't be your personal doctor," she playfully declares, getting up from the bench and holding out her hand to me, which I gladly take.

"I would never have thought that a mixture of strawberry, pumpkin, mint and mango ice cream is really tasty," I say, putting another spoonful of my delicious thingy into my mouth. Elizabeth just scrunches her nose at this with her mouth slightly open.

"Stop grimacing, here, try a little, I won't be able to eat that much anyway, I'm already full." I stop waking and offer my spoon to her.

"Y/n, your stomach is literally rubbery and I'm sure you could eat three of those buckets if you wanted to." She turns her nose away like a little kid who doesn't want to eat oatmeal.

"Oh, come on, Ellie, one spoon for mom, one spoon for dad. Just try it once and that's it." I smile at her as she rolls her eyes and leans down a bit to eat my dessert. Squinting her eyes, in which not a drop of disgust flashed, she says in surprise:

"No, but why is this actually good? Now I gotta question whether I should trust my own taste after this. Give me one more, I don't wanna finish mine now."

"Just look at this mood swing! Weren't you the one, who was looking at my ice cream like it killed your entire family, hmm?" I smirk as I watch El purse his lips and the pout appears on her flawless face.

"If you don't want to share, just say so." She says offended, turns around dramatically and begins to walk in the direction we came from.

"Wait, wait, here, you can have all of that," I quickly catch up to her and hold out my bucket. "Can I have your ice cream then, sweet tooth?" Her face immediately lights up, eagerly talking my dessert and handing over hers in return.

"You should have done so right away," she says looking at me out of the corner of her eye with the signature smirk on her lips.

Only now, when we entered the restaurant, we realized that an hour and a half had passed, although it seemed to us that we were gone for a maximum forty minutes.

"Just look who's finally back!" Madison exclaimed, while Liv only grinned at me, arching an eyebrow, silently hinting to me that my evening was surely pretty exciting.

"Lizzie, where have you been for so long?" Dan asks as El sits next to him, avoiding eye contact for some reason. "And why is Y/n wearing your jacket?" he asks, looking at me with a frown and at this phrase Scarlett throws me a knowing look that makes me fix my eyes somewhere on the table.

"We were just walking and lost track of time a bit," El replies curtly, knowing that this day will most likely be imprinted in our memory for a long time to come.

"While you were gone we were talking about where we can go next weekend, if you two don't mind." Olivia once again saves us from an awkward conversation.

Before I can say that I'm surprised at the fact that we've all got along so well, my phone rings and my eyes widen at the name, as I pick it up.

Elizabeth's POV:

"Yes, Taylor?" I hear Y/n say and my eyes instantly go in her direction. That Taylor? I didn't know they were still talking.

"Wait, I can hardly hear anything, where are you? Are you drunk?" She asks, her jaw tightens slightly and she puts her hand on her mouth in a nervous gesture.

Everyone watches the situation in silence, especially Mads and Liv staring open-mouthed at Y/n as she furrows her eyebrows in an attempt to hear what the person on the other end is saying. What the hell is going on and why is the feeling that my chest is tightening starting to increase?

"Oh my god, I can't understand almost anything, just give your phone to the bartender or someone else." From her worried raised voice and nails digging into the skin of her palms, it's clear that she is super nervous.

"Lux, right, is that a name of the club? No, she's not my girlfriend. Please, try to keep her exactly where she is now until I come there, thank you." With a trembling hand, she hangs up the phone, hurriedly starting to gather her things.

"Guys, I'm so sorry, but I need to go urgently. My old friend got wasted at some club and asked me to take her home, I can't just leave her like that." To be honest, seeing her immediately rush off to save her ex is far from the most pleasant sight, and I can't help but feel bitter about it.

"Isn't that the old friend Liv and I are thinking of, Y/n, huh?" Mads asks arching an eyebrow in anticipation of an answer.

"I'll explain everything later, sorry," Y/n replies, pulling out money to pay for her food.

"Do you need any help?" I ask through clenched teeth, only to be met with her apologetic awkward smile.

"No, I can handle it myself, but thank you very much. Bye everyone, I was very happy to spend this day with you." With these words, she practically springs out of the restaurant, leaving us still slightly surprised with her spontaneity.

"So," Danny begins, "we were thinking about going to the Imagine Dragons concert on Friday night, what do you think about that, Lizzie? Or do you already have some plans?"

My head is still occupied with Y/n and her sudden leaving, but this idea gives me the opportunity to redirect my attention to something else.

"That would be great, but you know what my job is. I don't have any plans, but they might call Thursday night and tell me to fly somewhere for a meeting or an event. But for now I'm totally in, you know how much I love this band. Scar, are you going too?"

"You know, old ladies love concerts and Dan Reynolds' naked torso too, so I'll take that opportunity," Scarlett says, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh my god, you're going there for Dan Reynolds' naked torso too, gimme five," Madison exclaims high-fiving my friend, but Liv, Danny, and I just look at each other and roll our eyes. I don't know since when such things don't excite me anymore, but anyway it doesn't really matter.

After staying in the restaurant for another hour, we decide that we have been here for a quite long time already and it's time to go home. Having said goodbye to everyone, I get into my car and start replaying this day in my head on my way home.

Of course, my thoughts lead me to that moment when I could turn my relationship with Y/n 180 degrees. I have no idea what I was guided by while deciding to kiss her and I'm not even sure that I had time to think before reaching for her lips at all.

It's just that the feelings that she causes in me sometimes don't leave any chance for my other rational thoughts. She's my safe place, she's my escape, inspiration and I could just go and destroy it all with one thoughtless action. She knew exactly what was going to happen and still didn't let me do it, for which I'm truly grateful to her, even though her act took me by surprise then.

This girl deserves much more than an adult woman with an emotional burden, a bunch of problems, who has no idea why she lives and what her calling is. Moreover, knowing what type of relationship she was in before me, I don't want to hurt her pure soul even more, because I won't be able to tell the world that I'm dating a girl, ruining my whole life with it.

It's funny that now I don't even deny my attraction to women and now I don't even care about it. The only shame is that I couldn't admit this to myself earlier because of the fear of being judged, which, by the way, hasn't gone anywhere.

In any case, I don't think Y/n and I will ever discuss what happened today, so I can only erase it from my memory and hope that she does the same. Or let it stay as an example of something that in no case can be repeated once again. I don't have to get used to stuffing my feelings into a deep box, so it shouldn't be a big deal.

Entering my empty house, which I unfortunately can't call my home, I understand that only a hot bath and a little alcohol can now at least calm my raging feelings and thoughts a little. Oh, the day started off so beautifully and now here we are.

Taking off my shoes and changing into a black silk robe, I grab a bottle of my favorite red wine, a plate of chopped fruits, and head to the bathroom. Seems like a typical night of a lonely alcoholic middle-aged woman, but now I couldn't care less.

After emptying half a bottle in twenty minutes, I decide that it's enough for today, because my head isn't so loud anymore and I can finally take a break from being overwhelmed.

Mindlessly scrolling through my Instagram feed, I suddenly stumble upon a page of none other than Taylor. She seems to be fucking pursuing me everywhere. I click on her profile and the gorgeous woman who brought so much pain in Y/n's life and at the first call of which she ran to her appears before my eyes. The realization of this fact causes another wave of spite to wash over me.

Why is Y/n still attached to this person? Why does she still care about her so much, aren't her feelings long forgotten already? Is that the reason she didn't want to kiss me today? The intrusive thoughts captivate my head once again and my only desire now is all of it to end as soon as possible.

A/n: no kisses today :(

[animeomegas]

Pregnant!Omega!Sasuke Headcanons

Anon:  How about omega Sasuke being pregnant with an over protective mate?

@hakunamatatayqueen​:  Ooh ooh could I request some fluffy pregnant omega sasuke headcanons?👀 this baby deserves so much love and happiness omg pLz I love him so much- AND GOOD LUCK WITH UR WORK DARLING I’m in the same situation😔 so take your time and no worries🖤

(Sasuke is so popular on this blog haha! I thought I would combine these requests because they work so well together <3 Also, yes, I just want good things for Sasuke. He was screwed over so much throughout his life and I just want to make it better :( Thank you for the well wishes on my work, it’s not been fun to start university during a pandemic haha. I still haven’t met any classmates or teachers in person rip. I hope your work goes well too! I decided to write this because I already had a lot written already haha. Enjoy!!)

Warnings: Mpreg, swearing, mental breakdown, morning sickness mention ((and non-graphic description) I talked around it because I’m emetophobic haha)

There is very little in the world that Sasuke hates more than being pregnant. 

He doesn’t just find the experience unpleasant, he hates it.

He feels trapped and uncomfortable all the time.

Too hot and too cold constantly.

He feels weak and useless and at the mercy of his instincts.

And that’s not even mentioning the horrible morning sickness, paranoia and mood swings.

He wanted to revive his family so badly, but the realities had him regretting his decision more than once, even if he was happy in the end.

This is the time in Sasuke’s life that he needs the support of his alpha the most.

Sasuke will refuse to get pregnant a second time. No exceptions.

He would get sterilised as soon as was safe after he had given birth.

TRIMESTER 1:

During his first trimester, Sasuke tries his hardest to carry on as normal. 

I cannot tell you how many times you have to stop him from training so he doesn’t hurt himself or your pup.

He was also miserable when he was banned from taking any more missions.

He’s pretty good about going to his doctor’s appointments though and has no problem going to them alone if you’re busy.

He suffers from morning sickness during this time. An omega’s morning sickness can be helped with the scent of their alpha, so you end up spending lots of time scenting him when he feels awful.

Sasuke doesn’t tell many people that he’s pregnant and doesn’t like other people cooing over him. You get permission but he’ll act like he doesn’t enjoy it.

Sasuke has a very strong nesting urge from day 1, and he never thinks his nest is good enough. He spends a lot of time buying new materials for his nest, rearranging things and scenting everything. You are very lucky that Sasuke was the sole inheritor of all the Uchiha wealth with how many nesting supplies he buys. 

You hovered uncomfortably outside the bathroom door, listening to your mate be violently ill in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t want you in there with him but your alpha was running in circles, desperate to help your mate somehow.

Eventually the sounds from the bathroom ceased. You waited for a moment before hesitantly knocking on the door. 

“Sasuke?” You called out. “Can I come in?”

You heard a grunt that you decided to take as a positive response.

Swinging open the door, you let out a sigh and a quiet whine. 

Sasuke was slouched on the floor, draped part way over the toilet. He looked pale and exhausted. 

“Oh, baby.” You sighed, moving towards his shivering form.

“Go away.” He grumbled, resting his head on his arms. “It’s gross.”

You ignored him, crouching down to sit on the floor and shifting to sit behind him. You sat flush against his back, wrapping your arms gently around his waist. You started to release a gentle scent to help him with the nausea.

Sasuke took a few deep breaths before slumping back against you.

You cradled him as gently as you could, wiping his hair back from his sweat soaked forehead. 

“Feeling better?” You whispered into his ear, rubbing soothing circles on his small baby bump. 

Sasuke hummed, eyes already closed, nuzzling into your neck. He lifted a hand and latched onto the sleeve of your shirt, seemingly unaware of what he was doing. 

You looked down at his exhausted form, clinging onto you in ways he would never normally let himself do, and you made a decision. 

“I’m not going into work today.” 

Sasuke’s eyes flew open at your words.

“No.” He scoffed. “You don’t need to stay here for me, I’m absolutely fine.”

He started trying to get up but you pulled him back against you, raising an eyebrow at his words.

“I want to stay, Sasuke.” You scented him some more, just in case any nausea still remained. “Think you can move back to bed?”

Sasuke hesitated. You waited patiently for his answer, rubbing small circles on his hips.

“I want...” Sasuke started, blushing. “I think I want to go to my nest.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, omega. Do you want me to join you?”

“Please.” He whispered, embarrassed. 

You helped him stand up from the bathroom floor and went to spend the rest of the day cuddled up in his nest.

TRIMESTER 2:

During trimester 2 Sasuke begins to show. He doesn’t get many stretch marks because his stomach is pretty small (but still healthy).

His mood swings start to get pretty extreme from this point.

Sasuke is very clingy and he gets frustrated when you have to leave him for too long. When you do leave him he gets cold or angry and always kicks you out of his nest for a day.

Sasuke starts to leave the house less and less in his second trimester. This is for many reasons. Firstly, he hates the attention he gets and doesn’t want to risk running into anyone he knows. He just doesn’t want to deal with it. Secondly, he gets a little paranoid about someone hurting his pup. You’re not really sure when those feelings start because he keeps them to himself, but when you find out you’re very worried.

To deal with it, you convince him to go on walks and dates with you outside the house. With you there, his anxiety is lessened, and it helps him cope with the paranoia.

Sasuke starts to develop cravings during this period. No one is surprised that he now wants tomatoes for every meal and snack. Every market day, you bring a huge bag and just clear out every tomato there. Sasuke refuses to cook when he’s pregnant so you end up cutting so many tomatoes over the duration of his pregnancy. 

Finally, during his second trimester, Sasuke starts to be satisfied with his nest. And then subsequently spends every moment he can buried inside it. His nest is his safe space and putting him in there is a fool proof strategy to calm him down or ease discomfort.

You sat with Sasuke in his nest, watching him fuss over some pillows in the corner. He was wearing an oversized shirt, but you could still see his pregnant tummy pressing against the fabric when he moved in a certain way. You couldn’t resist.

Leaning over to him, you pushed up his shirt and uncovered his bump. You nuzzled into his stomach, pressing kisses into his skin as you went. You giggled against him when he froze.

Sasuke stiffened and then pushed your face away firmly. You fell backwards gently, knocking over a blanket that Sasuke had pinned to the wall. You both looked at each other in silence for a moment before Sasuke huffed in displeasure.

“You ruin everything in here, I don’t know why I let you in.” He growled, moving over to that corner to try and fix it. 

You looked at him, playfully betrayed.

“You pushed me!”

“Because you deserved it, idiot.” Sasuke scoffed.

You pouted at him in reply, watching as he easily reattached the blanket.

“Are you mad at me?” You fake whined, opening your arms out for a hug.

“Tch,” He blushed, accepting your embrace. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” You crooned, nuzzling him furiously. Sasuke accepted the affection with no complaint. He must be more tired than you thought.

You both dozed peacefully in each others embrace, basking in the comfort of Sasuke’s nest and the pleasant mingling of your scents.

Until Sasuke swore suddenly, pulling himself out of your arms and scaring you half to death. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You panicked, hands flailing in an attempt to figure out what was wrong with him. 

“Foot cramp.” Sasuke grunted between clenched teeth, hands starting to massage at his foot awkwardly. He couldn’t reach comfortably around his bump. 

“Here, let me.” You quickly moved to sit at his feet, gently massaging while Sasuke let out pained hisses. You kept going until Sasuke had fully relaxed back into the pillows of his nest. 

“Fucking foot cramps.” Sasuke sighed, pulling you back towards him, and trying to position you both back into your original position. Scarcely a few moments had passed before Sasuke groaned again. 

“Now they decides to wake up.” He grumbles, shifting to lift up his shirt.

You watched in awe as your pup began to kick. 

“This never gets old.” You whispered. “I can’t believe that’s our pup in there.”

“I wish they’d let me sleep.” Sasuke grumbled, a fond smile on his face nevertheless. 

“Get comfortable and I’ll try to soothe the pup. Try to get some sleep, omega, you deserve it.”

TRIMESTER 3:

This is where Sasuke’s mental state starts to decline. 

He has a very strong flight reflex when he gets overwhelmed, but obviously he can’t run away from being pregnant, so this just makes him more distressed. 

Sasuke is a very light sleeper generally, and being pregnant means he is rarely comfortable enough to sleep properly, and sleep deprivation makes everything worse.

Sasuke ends up having so many breakdowns that he needs someone with him at all times to make sure he won’t accidentally hurt himself or the pup when he’s not in a good headspace.

Sasuke ends up being induced early to end the severe mental strain he is under.

You watched sadly as Sasuke sobbed pitifully on your bed. You had tried to help, but he threw a fit when you tried to touch him. 

“I don’t want this anymore.” He sobbed. “I can’t-I can’t sleep, I’m too hot, everything hurts, I’m useless!” His hands started to shake.

“No, no, no, sweetheart.” You rushed over to him. “You’re okay, we’ll make it okay.”

“I want to get them out!” His hands started to twitch.

You intervened immediately, shifting his hands away from his stomach, just in case. Sasuke started to sob into your arms.

“Shh, omega.” You scented him, desperate to calm him down. You felt so powerless. “Do you want to come with me to your nest? Would that help?”

Sasuke shook his head desperately. “Too hot.”

You had an idea. 

“A bath then? A nice cool one. I’ll join you and wash your hair for you, yes?”

Sasuke didn’t respond, but you made the decision for him.

Ten minutes later, you were lowering him into a cool bath, and climbing in behind him. Sasuke slumped against you, exhausted after his breakdown. You welcomed him into your embrace, running cool fingers up and down his arms.

“Better?” You whispered.

“Yeah.” He croaked back. “Sorry.”

“S’alright, my love. Just relax.”

You tenderly washed his hair for him, careful to keep shampoo out of his eyes. You smiled when Sasuke started to purr as you massaged his head, relieved that he was feeling better.

You then wiped him down with a cool flannel. When Sasuke began to shiver, you pulled the plug and helped him out of the bath. You dried his hair for him and fetched him an oversized shirt to wear. It was when you were entering back into the room that you suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, I totally forgot.” You leant down and pulled a long, thin pillow out from under your bed. “I bought this today.” You held it up for him to see. “It’s supposed to help you sleep when you’re pregnant.”

Sasuke took the pillow. 

“How does it work?”

You laid him down and helped position the pillow, making sure to wrap it under his bump to support him. When you were done, it was immediately obvious that Sasuke was comfortable. He went boneless against the pillow, eyes already drooping, the dark circles under his eyes suddenly more apparent.

You slid into bed beside him, careful not to crowd and overheat him. Instead, you took his hand in yours, rubbing the back with your thumb.

“We’ll go to the hospital tomorrow.” You began. “See if they can induce you early.”

“’kay.” He replied, half-asleep.

You pressed a gentle kiss against his mating mark.

“Sleep tight, my omega.”

[fics-n-stuff]

Home

Pairing: Kaz Brekker × Reader

Summary: Y/N and Kaz were once childhood friends, later reunited in the Barrel. After a business dealing went awry, Y/N has been in hiding for almost a year and the time apart has brought up a lot of feelings for Kaz.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: touch aversion, alcohol consumption

A/N: I haven't actually read SoC yet but I have done my research so I really hope I wrote Kaz accurately enough 🤞🏽 Let me know!! I left the reader gender neutral so all parties can enjoy 😁

Update: Pt 2 here!

You stared out of the window, watching the nightlife of the Barrel in full swing below you. It had been almost a year since you had been able to be a part of it all and, even though you had lived in Ketterdam all your life, you felt like an outsider now.

There was a knock on the door and you froze, head tilting to listen out for any threat. After a moment there was another knock, loud and heavy – certainly not the result of somebody’s knuckle hitting the wood. With a sigh, you stood up from the window ledge and crossed the room to the door.

Kaz was waiting on the other side, looking unamused as ever, and you waved him inside quickly and hurriedly shut the door behind him.

“I am one of three people that knock on your door, Y/N.” He said flatly, removing his hat and placing it atop your desk.

“I can’t be too careful, never know when someone might come sniffing around here.” You replied with a shrug. Kaz hummed shortly in acknowledgment before producing a small stack of envelopes from his coat. You snatched them from him eagerly, but careful to ensure that your fingers made no contact with his gloved ones.

“I’m getting tired of being your courier.”

“Well, I’m getting tired of being in hiding.” You huffed, leafing through your letters. “But I’d rather not walk around in a city where I’m actively being hunted.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten caught then.” Your head snapped towards Kaz at that, and you raised your eyebrows challengingly.

“I should slap you for that.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Kaz’s face remained largely unchanged but you could see the shine of amusement in his eyes.

You had first met Kaz as a child, while visiting family in the village where his family lived. He was a sweet child, and you had struck up a fast friendship in the few months you spent there. You had even written letters back and forth for a couple of years until one time you never got a reply.

When you met again years later, entirely by chance, Kaz was a changed person. Your family’s fortune had taken a steep downturn and you found yourself alone, living in a tiny room in a boarding house in the Barrel, when Kaz came across you pickpocketing outside the Crow Club. He had recognised you, but you hadn’t recognised him at first. Everything about him was so departed from the sweet boy that you had known as a child.

He refused to tell you what had happened to change him in this way. He never gave you a cause for the ruthless person he had become to climb the ranks of the Dregs and earn the name Dirtyhands, never even told you what had brought him to Ketterdam at all other than that his father had died. He never pushed you away though. Kept you at arms length, yes, but he never tried to dissuade you from sticking around.

The longer you knew him the more you realised that he wasn’t as cold as his demeanour portrayed. He was fiercely loyal, you could see it in the way that he was with his Crows, and you were certain that he would do anything to protect those he cared about most. You admired that about him.

“You don’t have to come, you know. You could send Inej with my letters, she already delivers me food.” You said, turning away at the realisation that you had been looking at each other in silence for a few seconds too long. You went to sit down, picking up the envelope from the top of the pile and pulling up the wax seal. Kaz didn’t respond for a long while. You tried to read your letter but found yourself distracted with anticipation of what he would say, if he said anything at all.

“I commend your commitment to your business.” He said finally, and you smiled at the compliment. “Eleven months trapped in this apartment and you’re still keeping up with it all.”

“Being in hiding is no excuse to get lazy. If anything, it gives me more of a reason to keep on top of things. Work keeps me sane and keeps coin in my pocket.”

“And how long do you intend to keep conducting your business through letters and underlings?”

“For as long as I have to, Kaz. You know that.” You answered with a quiet sigh, setting down the letter that you definitely hadn’t been reading and turning your head to face him again. You saw his jaw tense and the grip on his cane tighten, but you didn’t know what it meant. You were worried that somehow you had done or said something to upset him.

You had learned, in the few years since your reunion, that sometimes even the most seemingly innocuous things could put Kaz in a black mood. You had caught on quickly to the way that he avoided touch at all costs, and adapted your behaviour accordingly. He had still never told you why being touched triggered such a strong reaction in him, but he knew that you would always respect that fact.

It didn’t matter to you what traumas Kaz had suffered to create these traits in him, only that you knew how to navigate being in his space without violating his boundaries, because deep down you knew that Kaz was the most important person in your life. He took you in and offered you support when you needed it, given you structure and taught you skills to survive without even necessitating that you use those skills to serve his gang, all because of the friendship that you had shared as children. It didn’t matter how heartless people said the Bastard of the Barrel was, you knew that Kaz cared; perhaps not in the same way that you had come to care for him, but he did care.

“Maybe you should go, I’m sure you have work of your own to do.” You mumbled, your eyes drifting downwards anxiously. “And anyway, I have letters to read.”

“I could protect you.” He blurted. His voice was a little louder than usual, his tone less flat, and your brow furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “We could. The Crows, and the Dregs.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

“But you’d have it.”

You turned fully in your chair, straddling it with one leg either side of the backrest, and leant your forearms on the top of it. There was something in Kaz’s eyes that you’d never seen before and, although you prided yourself on being able to tell how Kaz was feeling and what he might be thinking about, you couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Do you know something that I don’t?” You questioned.

“Of course not.”

“Do you suddenly not trust my ability to keep myself safe?”

“Nothing like that, Y/N.”

“Then what?” You rested your chin on your arms, looking up at him expectantly. He held your gaze, but you could see the cogs turning in his brain as he calculated his next sentence. You were preparing for an argument to start, so you certainly didn’t expect the words that came from him next.

“I’m concerned about how long you’ve been alone here.” He answered. You blinked.

“Concerned?” Your voice cracked a little with your surprise, and Kaz clenched his jaw as he averted his eyes from you.

“I just thought that maybe all this time on your own might have had some affect on you. And I... hold a certain sense of responsibility.” His voice never wavered or faltered, other than the one pause there was no suggestion in his speech that the words held any significance to him, but you could see the tension in his shoulders and the tight grip that he maintained on his cane.

You narrowed your eyes, taking a moment to examine his face and his demeanour. Everything about him was wound tight, like he was making a particularly tricky deal rather than talking to a friend – you hoped that he considered you a friend – and though he was looking in your general direction you noted his avoidance of eye contact.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were saying that you miss me, Mr Brekker.” You said, your mouth turning in a small smirk. You saw Kaz’s chest tighten as he silently took in a sharp breath, and you chuckled lightly. “I’m fine, Kaz. Inej visits often enough, and I’m happy to see you when you deliver my letters. I will say though, I miss drinking with your Crows.”

Truthfully, you did feel rather trapped in your tiny apartment. For almost a whole year your entire world had consisted of only three rooms, and even if you didn’t admit it you were going slightly mad. Not being able to leave was frustrating, and living your whole life in one room (because really, who spends that much of their day in the bathroom or kitchen?) made you feel like a caged animal.

He didn’t reply. He also didn’t move. You watched him, standing straight and stiff as ever in the middle of the room, for a few moments. Usually he would have said something or made a move to leave, so you knew that he was deep in thought about something. You slouched further down against the backrest of your chair.

“If you’re planning on sticking around then you should at least sit down.” You sighed. “I have some kvas, or whisky if you’d prefer.” Kaz shook his head no to the drink but made a move towards the window seat. You watched him cross the room and sit down, his grip remaining on his cane as he placed it between his knees. “What’s on your mind, Kaz?”

“It’s not important.”

“That can’t be true.”

“And why is that?” He questioned dully.

“Because you’re still here, with me, staring into space like you’re waiting for the wind to tell you a secret.” He looked at you then, and you could see a conflict swirling behind his eyes. You resisted the urge to furrow your brow in worry. He still didn’t say anything, and that didn’t do anything to ease your concern because Kaz Brekker was not often one to be at a loss for words. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes.” He murmured, his head nodding slightly.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” You asked softly. He looked into your eyes for a few seconds before turning his head away, clearly deciding not to answer. You were almost expecting him to get up and leave the apartment right then, remove himself from the uncomfortable situation like he had been known to do before, but he made no move to stand.

You stood instead, abruptly moving through to the tiny kitchen and pouring a glass of whisky for yourself. You took a long sip as you came back out into the living space, picking up a wooden staff on your way. You kept up your combat training while in hiding, though it wasn’t often that you got an opponent.

“Humour me, will you?” You smiled, spinning the staff in your hand and setting your drink down.

“There’s not much space in here.” Kaz commented.

“Then we’ll be careful. Get up and fight me, coward.” You goaded. He gave you an incredulous look but stood anyway, tossing his cane up and grabbing it at it’s middle as he came towards you. Your grin broadened, and you waited just until the was in your range before you swung at him.

Your staff collided with his cane, moved up just in time to block your attack, and he watched you with challenging amusement. You let him make the next attack, knocking his cane away when he swung it towards you.

You exchanged blows, each of you managing to block all of the other’s attacks but you were starting to corner him. It seemed like you were about to get the upper hand when he swiped his cane towards your middle, making you jump back, and before you could move to swing on him he had pushed the crow’s head handle into your chest, not so hard that it was painful but with enough force to knock you backwards.

You landed on the edge of your bed with a groan, letting the staff drop from your hand in defeat.

“No fair, your cane is basically an extension of your arm.” You grumbled. Kaz let out a short breath, the closest thing to a laugh that anyone could get from him.

“You picked the fight.” He shrugged, lowering his cane and righting it at his hip. “I could have told you that you wouldn’t win it.”

“Mean!” You exclaimed in exaggerated offense, sitting up. When you looked at Kaz his expression was soft, the worry behind his eyes seemingly eased, and you smiled. “I could beat you if it was hand to hand.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He replied, the almost compliment catching you by surprise once again.

It had been a while since you and Kaz had spent any significant amount of time together. He was a busy man, particularly so over the last few months it seemed, so other than his brief drop-ins to deliver your letters you hadn’t seen him. It was nice to have his company again, even if he was a little off.

“Do you remember those drawings of Ketterdam that I used to send you with my letters?” You questioned softly, tucking your knees up to your chest. “I used to walk around the city looking for spots to sketch. I’d spend hours sitting on the street with my pencils trying to get the picture perfect to show you what it was like. I think, now, you probably know the city better than I do.” You smiled wistfully, resting your head on your knees as you looked up at Kaz. You saw his Adam’s apple bob with a swallow.

“You miss it, don’t you?” He asked.

“Of course.”

“You could go out there, stop hiding. You know I would look out for you.”

“I can’t put that burden on you, Kaz.” You chuckled lightly. “Enough people want you dead already, you don’t need to be looking after me while I’m being actively hunted.”

“How long do you plan on staying locked in here then?”

“As long as it takes, we went through this earlier. I have a big deal coming up, with the money from that I’d be able to smooth over some edges and maybe I could come out of hiding in a few months.” You theorised. “I’d still have to watch over my shoulder all the time but it would be an improvement.” Kaz’s jaw tightened again, and he bristled with agitation.

You hugged your knees tighter, doubt and worry overcoming you. Was Kaz not okay with coming to see you here anymore? Was he trying to get you out of hiding to lighten the burden it had put on him, getting your letters delivered to the Crow Club and having to bring them to you? The thought of not being able to rely on his short visits was enough to fill your chest with a mixture of dread and guilt.

“Like I said before, you don’t have to keep coming if that’s the problem.” You added, hiding the dejection in your voice. “Inej can-"

“No.” He interrupted bluntly. You blinked, pressing your lips together in contemplation. Was he upset that Inej was bringing supplies for you? Or worse, had something happened to her? Was that what was bothering him so much tonight?

“Why not?”

“Because I-" He cut himself off. He took a step back as if regaining his balance, his gaze falling to the floor, and you watched him flex his fingers around his cane as he organised his words. “Do you remember how you got sick while you were visiting your family?”

“Kaz.” You murmured tentatively, craning your neck to try and get a better look at his face that was turned away from you. Kaz didn’t like to talk about the past. Even bringing up the letters that you sent each other had been pushing it, but for him to choose to talk about your childhood was something he had never done before. Still now, it looked like the mention of the past was making him nauseous as he moved to sit down in the window once again. Your curiosity was growing by the second.

“You got sick and you could hardly get out of bed for almost a fortnight.” He continued, dismissing your concern. “I went to visit you every day. I picked flowers for you to make you feel better, and your mother baked oatmeal cookies but I refused to have any unless you did because you weren’t eating enough.”

“I remember.” You nodded. “You never let my glass of water get empty. It was sweet. But why does it matter now?”

“I can’t... I can’t stop worrying about you. But unlike when we were kids, I can’t just walk up the street and check on you every day.”

You felt as if all the air had been knocked out of your lungs and for a second you genuinely wondered if you had made that up in your head. Kaz very rarely expressed any emotion – the mask he wore hardly ever slipped – but here he was telling you that he worried about you. For Kaz, that was practically him baring his soul for you to see.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” You said shakily. “I’ve been fine so far, haven’t I?”

“But what if you’re not fine for much longer? As long as you’re holed up here I can’t keep you safe, and I can’t come to check on you because if I come here too often people might notice. Honestly, it’s a miracle that they haven’t already.”

“I didn’t think you believed in miracles.” You mumbled. Kaz glanced up at you, and the vulnerability on his face was unlike anything you’d seen before. It struck you in the heart and made you feel a need to comfort him, to put him at ease. “I can take care of myself, Kaz. I promise."

He was silent for a moment, his gaze downcast once again, then he took a deep breath and spoke.

“I think I’ll take that drink now.”

You watched him for just a second before you got up, crossing over to your desk and picking up the glass of whiskey that you had left there. The glass was half full since you had admittedly poured a little too generously.

You held it out to Kaz, who reached for it without looking. Although you were careful to hold the glass at the very top, his gloved fingers still brushed slightly over yours as he took a hold of it. He immediately stiffened, and you were quick to pull your hand away, taking a step back to give him space. He downed the drink in one, his face scrunching just slightly at the burn it left in his throat as he set the glass down by his feet.

“I just want to be able to watch over you.” He said, his voice barely more than a whisper, and you could practically see how difficult it was for him to verbalise his feelings.

“I think... I understand what you mean, Kaz. But I’m safer staying here than being out there, even with the Dregs protecting me. You have to know that, right?”

Kaz pushed a peice of hair out of his face, his gloved hand smoothing over his head as he let out a long and quiet sigh. Finally, he looked up at you.

“I know.” He answered.

“I appreciate your concern though.” You smiled. “Honestly, I didn’t think you cared about me that much. Or, well, I knew you cared but I just didn’t think... nevermind.”

“You didn’t think what?” Kaz’s question made you pause, anxiety pooling in your chest as you contemplated coming clean about your feelings. You thought about lying, about keeping your secrets to yourself, but Kaz had been so sincere it only felt right to return his honesty. With a deep breath, you worked up the courage to finally tell him the truth.

“I didn’t think that you cared as much as I do.” You replied. The sentence hung in the air for a moment as you moved back to sit in your desk chair, heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve kind of found myself caring a lot, actually. I think it’s only fair, really. I mean, I kind of owe you my life and all so it makes sense that I care. That’s not to say that it’s sensible but it is at least understandable, I guess.”

You bit your lip to stop your rambling, dropping your head so that you didn’t have to look at Kaz. There was a long stretch of silence.

“I care more than I might show.” He spoke softly, much more softly than you think you’d ever heard his voice. When you looked up Kaz was gazing right back at you, your eyes locking and his stare going deep into your soul. He didn’t need to say more, that simple sentence and the look in his eyes were enough to tell you what he was confessing. A smile pulled at your lips.

“Be careful what you admit, Brekker, or I might think that you’re going soft.” You joked, and he shook his head lightly in amusement. You leaned forward with your elbows on your knees, letting go of the anxiety that had been coursing through you.

“I'm serious, Y/N."

“I know. You don’t make a habit of saying things that you don’t mean.” You nodded. You glanced up at the clock on your wall with a sigh. “You really should get going, it’s dangerous for us both for you to stay too long.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” He muttered.

He stood after a moment, his hand flexing over the crow’s head handle of his cane. You reached back to pick his hat up from the desk, and he held a hand out for it, but instead of passing it to him you placed atop your own head. It was too big, and you had to push it back on your head so it didn’t slide over your face.

“You know, I rather like you without the hat.” You smiled.

“Is that so?”

“Yep. I can see your face better this way so I can tell when your emotions manage to break through.” Kaz’s lips quirked upwards a little as he took the hat from your head and put it on his own. You jutted your lip out in an exaggerated pout and he let out a huff that seemed suspiciously close to a laugh.

“Do you have any letters you need me to send out?”

“No, not this time.”

“Alright, then I’ll be on my way.” He gave a quick nod and turned towards the door. He had only taken a couple of steps when you twisted in your chair and called after him .

“Kaz.” He stopped and turned back to you. “I’m doing what I can to get out of this apartment, I promise.”

“That’s not something that you owe me, Y/N. It’s your freedom and your safety. But I await the day that you come waltzing into the Crow Club ready to make Jesper lose all the coin in his pocket.” He replied lightly, making you smile. “And if you need anything then I’m here, all you have to do is ask.”

“Thank you, not just for this but for everything. Everything that you’ve given me since that night outside the Crow Club. I might be dead if it weren’t for you.” You let sentiment out freely, finally feeling able to show your heart to Kaz now that you knew that your affections weren’t one sided. His expression softened, and he seemed to contemplate something deeply, before he took a single step back towards you and held out one gloved hand.

You hesitated, unsure if he was initiating what you were thinking, but he maintained eye contact. He gave a small nod, a mix of permission and encouragement, and you tentatively reached for his outstretched hand.

Kaz took in a deep breath when your hand made contact with his, and you watched him carefully ready to pull your hand away. After a moment he released the breath, wrapping his fingers lightly around yours and running his thumb over your knuckles.

“You’re the closest thing to home that I have.” He croaked. “I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t.” You affirmed. Kaz released your hand, and you found yourself missing the feeling of the leather glove. He took a small step back, trying to hide the shake in his breathing.

“I’ll come back soon, as soon as it’s safe to.”

“Okay.” You smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

Kaz left the apartment without another word between you, he paused before closing the door after himself just to look at you for a moment longer. You watched out of the window to see him leave the building and start off through the street, a broad smile on your face.

[gregnas-the-grouch]

Truth Without Power

All was calm in the forest. The singing of birds, the chipping of insects, the gentle sway of trees in the wind. It all blended in the background, But for one Cofagrigus, it only served to aid her meditation. The warrior’s mind still, focused. Nothing could break her concentration at this point. 

“So eager to earn my ire? I know your mental faculties are lacking, yet even I must admit I’m impressed at the depths you’re willing to pursue in the name of enraging me.” Baozhai’s demeanor had hit a new low. For all her bluster, even Yemir could feel it radiating off the Cofagrigus in sickening waves. It gave the small Gallade pause, if only for a moment as Bao turned to face her charge. “It seems I have no option left. Since I can find no opponent capable of rousing you to your former size. I will simply have to get my hands dirty”, the ghost murmured. Standing up to her full height, Baozhai looked down at Yemir. As if she were a mischievous child that needed scolding. “Be proud. It’s not often people get to face me in combat. One of the better highlights compared to the list of individuals you’ve battled, I would say”, a slight smile formed on her face as Yemir stared at Baozhai.

The reduced giant remained quiet for a few moments before she suddenly bursted into a fit of laughter. Clutching her chest tightly, Yemir did her best not to pass out from the intense pain as she howled like a looney. Bao’s light smile vanished in an instant, her right eye twitching in irritation as Yemir wiped a few tears from her eyes. Calming down. “Oh, that’s a good one, Granny Bao. I thought you were being serious there”, Yemir chuckled. Only to note the annoyance Baozhai had been displaying. “... Oh god, you’re being serious, aren’t ya?” Yemir ruminates upon the Cofagrigus’ words before uttering a simple, “no”, in response. “No offense, but yer not exactly what I would consider a good fight? What do ya do, just flip around with yer little sword there and poke people in the gut? Nah, that’s kinda boring if ye ask me”, Yemir grunted with a lazy look on her face.

“Ah, I see how it is”, Baozhai mused out loud as she started at Yemir. “You’re simply afraid to have this old woman beat your ass, is that it? I suppose I'd be afraid to have my precious reputation too if a, how did you put it? A granny. Beat my ass as well. Perfectly natural response”, Baozhai said calmly as her words poked and prodded at Yemir’s ego. The Gallade bared her teeth, snarling deeply as she turned her back to Baozhai with her arms crossed. “Nice try. I know yer just trying to goad me into fightin’ ya. Ain’t gonna happen.” Without another word, Yemir slowly started to walk away from Baozhai. Yet the mummy wasn’t finished with her little insults. “Ah, I see how it is. Yemir is still pouting and throwing a fit over what happened in White Forest, is it? I wonder… how would your father feel about your cowardice?”

Yemir immediately froze on the spot. Stiff and silent like a statue as Baozhai continued forth with her little verbal assault. “That’s why you continue to suffer from such a sullen mood, no? You put all your faith and trust into someone you believed to be good. Someone you believed to be on your side. Only to find out that they’re not quite the person you thought them to be. Yet you just walk, acting like you’re some kind of hot shit. Being a perpetual mope and doing nothing to solve this little predicament of yours. Perhaps your brother had a good reason to betray you. Perhaps if your father was still alive today, he’d show nothing but disappointment at your inability to-”, Baozhai was cut off as a large rock went flying past her at breakneck speed. The armored ghost twisted her head at just the last second to avoid it before returning her attention back to Yemir. The short Gallade’s mouth had steam seeping out as her pupils were narrowed. Hands balled into fists. “Ya better hope yer as good at fightin’ as ye are at flapping yer lips!”

Baozhai paused for a few moments before a wry grin spread across her face. “See? Was that so hard? Now… give me everything you got”, Baozhai growled. Spreading her arms, as if to goad Yemir even further into attacking her. Naturally, this worked as Yemir barred her teeth, hands clenched into fists as she charged forward. Reckless as ever. Baozhai stood still, her eyes locked onto the Gallade, making no noise or movement until the brawny shrimp was right on top of her. Arm curled back, ready to deck Baozhai right in that pretty little face of hers. Yemir swung forward, only for her eyes to widen as Baozhai shifted to the side. Face stuck in that mocking expression as she gave Yemir a sharp slap over the back of her head with one of her ghostly hands. Yemir stumbled a bit, having swung her punch, only to meet nothing but air. Bao’s playful gesture only served to enrage Yemir further as the Cofagrigus merely chortled at her.

“Come now, surely you can do better than this, no? I thought Yemir was undefeatable”, the ghost taunted. Only adding to Yemir’s frustrations. The Gallade said nothing aside from low grunts and snarls. Her hands trembling at the chance to punch the snooty Cofagrigus. Yet, no matter how often Yemir lunged at Baozhai. All she received in response was that obnoxious smack over the back of her head. Again and again. The brute’s rage was starting to boil at this point. Any sense of caution thrown to the wind as her speed started to build up. Baozhai even noticed Yemir’s mass increasing as the seconds went by. In a couple of minutes, she had almost reached Baozhai’s height herself. Good progress, but not enough for Baozhai.

“Tell me, how does someone like yourself get praised for being such a good warrior? You have the brawn, yes. But that’s all you have. No thought behind your actions. No tact or strategy. Just swinging away with your massive fists. Maybe the only reason they praised you as such is that most didn’t know how to fight to begin with. Nothing but skill-less fools praising a bigger fool who was simply stronger than them.” Bao’s words tore into Yemir’s pride like a pack of hungry Houndoom digging into a fresh kill. “Shut it!”, the giant yelled, her fists swinging faster, more furiously. Yet Baozhai always seemed one step ahead. Just barely out of reach of her punches. “Shut it? Why should I? All you’ve been doing is running your mouth ever since we started our little journey. You can’t even touch me”, Baozhai taunted, her eyes narrowed at the giant. A blood vessel popped in Yemir’s forehead as her teeth grated against each other. Her mouth clenched in anger. Bringing out another punch to throw Baozhai’s way.

The Cofagrigus yawned, prepared to dodge another of Yemir’s blows.However, as the massive arm crossed Baozhai’s path, she felt a sharp sting on her face. Hissing, she pulled back, reaching towards her face, only to pull back. Green blood stained her black hand. Yemir… hit her? How? She didn’t see the punch connect with her face. Yet the damage was apparent to the old ghost. Yemir merely had an angry smile on her face. Pleased, she managed to land a hit on Baozhai, even if the effect wasn’t intended. “Keep on talkin’, Bao. I’ll wipe that smirk of yer face just yet”, the giant proclaimed loudly. Baozhai was silent for a few seconds before her mocking demeanor became considerably more serious. “You’ll regret that.”

Not wanting to let up on Baozhai, Yemir charged once more. Keeping the pressure on the ancient Cofagrigus as best she could. Yet as she was about to land a punch on Baozhai, all the giant could hear was a dull thud. Confused, Yemir turned her head to the side, only to see Baozhai standing her ground. Using both her forearms as a shield, the Cofagrigus managed to tank Yemir’s hit, barely budging from her spot. Baozhai merely glared back at Yemir with an angry smile of her own. “Hm, is this the best punch you can throw? Pathetic”, the ghost mocked. Her ghostly hair suddenly sprouted a life of its own. Wrapping around Yemir’s arm like snakes and squeezing ever so tightly so Yemir couldn’t get away. The growing giant had little time to contemplate Baozhai’s words or moves as she felt a ghastly energy well up near her abdomen. Looking down, the Gallade made note of a ShadowBall swelling up in size. Baozhai’s human hand near it as the energy felt more intense with each passing moment.

Yemir could barely let out a word as Baozhai unleashed her attack. Yemir let out a screech as she felt her massive body sent rocketing back. The ghostly energy orb driving into her body like a runaway train. Slamming into any poor tree caught in her way. Yemir was sent flying through the forest, leaving a small path of destruction in her wake as Baozhai merely stood up, watching her handiwork in action as a bright flash of purple, followed by a loud boom went off. “Ah… Perhaps I got a bit too carried away there. Haos would never let me hear the end of it if I wound up killing her.” The ghost knew better, though. Yemir certainly had a reputation for being resilient.

As Baozhai slowly made her way towards the impact zone, she made note of all the broken trees. Nothing but smouldering stumps at this point. The Shadowball had sent Yemir flying quite some ways away. Dozens of yards by the look of it. Until naught but a pile of broken trees and charred ground piled up where the giant once remained. “Yemir, are you still alive?”, the ghost called out. Leaning forward to get a better look, hoping for some sign of life. Yet it remained eerily silent. The Cofagrigus frowned, her body starting to tense up a bit as she expected Yemir to burst out of there any second now. Until she felt something grip her legs.

Her head snapped down, only to notice the shadows had sprung to life. Wrapping around her calves and ankles, as if they had a life of their own as Baozhai’s expression changed from one of uncertainty to one of regret. “Fuck”, was all the ghost could utter as the pile of debris suddenly exploded. Yemir, restored in all her monolithic glory, lept forth. Eyes wide with determination and fury. Her right arm reared back for one hell of a punch. Only this one was different. Her elbow vent had been spouting flames, roaring like a jet engine as Bao’s gut curled into a tight ball, her throat locked. The mummy could only brace herself before she felt several tons of might and rage slam into her. The Cofagrigus was slammed into the ground, the breath knocked out of her. All she could do was yell in pain as Yemir continued her unrelenting assault, constantly pounding her oversized fists into Baozhai’s chest as all Baozhai could do was yell in anger. Being driven further and further into the ground as the entire area around her shattered into a crater. Until, eventually, all that remained was a massive hole where Baozhai once stood. Yemir towering over it, breathing heavily as her anger simmered down a bit.

“... Well, that’s one way to vent me anger, I suppose”, Yemir grumbled to herself. Surveying all the destruction she had caused. The crater was much bigger than she expected. Staring at her arms, she made note of her elbow vent. Still smoking from the raw power she had just released. A big smile spread across her face. She didn’t know how she did it. But with those elbow vents, she could make her punches hit harder. Who knows what else she could do with them as well? Yemir didn’t waste much time reflecting on this, staring at the hole in the ground where Baozhai used to be. “Oi! Bao, ya in there?” Yemir called out, only to be greeted with silence. “Huh, maybe I punched her too hard,'' Yemir grunted. Looking at the scene of destruction before her. It was enough to flatten a small town and then some.

After staring at the Baozhai shaped hole in the ground for a few more seconds. Yemir merely shrugged her shoulders before turning around and walking away. The giant had no interest in following Baozhai anymore, to be quite frank. Yemir just didn’t feel like dealing with her bullshit anymore. As the giant lumbered forth a few yards, an all too familiar voice called out to her. Making Yemir’s ears perk up. “Leaving so soon? I thought we were just getting warmed up”, called out the cold, yet condescending voice of Baozhai. Spinning around in disbelief, Yemir’s eyes widened upon seeing Baozhai standing before her. Her armor had seen better days, a few chips and cracks here and there. Her otherwise perfect face bruised, green blood dripping down the corner of her mouth while her normally smooth and straight hair had been frayed and messy.

Yet, Yemir noticed something off about Baozhai. Behind her chilly demeanor, her eyes seethed with a fire the brute thought missing in the empress. Admittedly, Yemir was impressed by the old ghost’s resilience. Most people wouldn’t take such a beating and get back up. Smirking, Yemir crossed her arm, staring down at Baozhai with a cocky grin. “Heh, I guess those dusty warriors follow ya fer a reason. But ya still pissed me off, so don’t expect me to go easy on ya”, the giant grunted, Baozhai simply narrowed her eyes at Yemir. The giant herself raised a brow when the Cofagrigus slowly unsheathed her sword. Holding it in one hand as Yemir merely smiled wider. “So, finally decided to take me seriously, aye? Good. I’m done talkin’ with ya”, Yemir grunted. Cracking her knuckles as the Cofagrigus assumed a defensive stance with her blade. As if expecting Yemir to make the first move.

The giant did not disappoint. Her smile replaced with a scowl, Yemir lunged at Baozhai. Her fists alight with fire, hoping to crush baozhai under the weight of her attack. Baozhai simply dodged to the side. A glint of steel crossed Yemir’s eyes, followed by a sharp pain. A large one opened up on her right forearm. A small geyser of purple blood sprayed out as Yemir’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t even see Baozhai swing her sword. The Cofagrigus didn’t let up. Weaving and ducking through every punch Yemir threw her way. Responding in kind with a swing of a sword. Slicing her way the giant’s flesh as if it were butter. Annoyed with all these scratches and nicks, Yemir bellowed mightily, slamming her clenched fists together as steam erupted from her body. Her muscles contracted, growing ever denser as her skin color darkened. As Baozhai swung her sword, her eyes widened as she felt the sword meet resistance. The flesh harder to carve through.

Yemir took it a step further, the shadows around them began to waver and twist. Darkened tendrils sprouting out of them like sharpened blades, jutting towards Baozhai. The mummy lept back, wincing as she felt a few nick her in the areas her armor didn’t cover. Yemir let out a roar as she charged at the retreating ghost. Her throat began to glow before a torrent of blue flames erupted from her mouth. Baozhai lept back, feeling the sapphire flames singe the tip of her hair, a small sneer forming on her face. Holding up her other hand, another Shadowball formed from Bao’s ghastly energy. Yet, the Cofagrigus did not throw it at Yemir, even as she managed to stay one step ahead of Yemir’s fiery breath. Instead, Baozhai pointed the tip of her blade at the ghostly sphere before piercing it. The energy enveloping the bladed. Taking on the shape of the sword itself, but doubling its length.

Yemir’s eyes widened, closing her mouth as she made note of what Baozhai pulled off. The back of her hair stood on edge. Her gut clenched while a dry lump formed in her throat. Something told the brute she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. Spotting a boulder nearby that managed to survive their skirmish. Yemir plunged both her hands around it, plucking it out of the ground with a mighty lift. Yemir opened her mouth, spewing more flames around the rock. Seemingly clinging to it, as if it had a desire to never let go. The fire itself seemed to have no effect on the titan as she let it plop on the ground. The shadows around her danced and stretched, reaching out to the boulder before wrapping around it. Plunging one hand near the flaming rock, the shadows reached out, coiling around Yemir’s arm and holding tight.

A manic smile spread across Yemir’s face as she lifted her arm back up, the boulder followed suit, the shadows keeping the two tethered as the burly brute began to swing the flaming boulder around like a ball n’ chain. Baozhai had little time to react, rolling to the ground as she felt the heat of the massive rock pass by her. Mere inches from knocking her head off. Yet, despite it all, Baozhai retained her composure, unflinching in the face of Yemir’s might. Sword in hand, Baozhai sprung back into action. Racing right towards Yemir. This caught the giant off guard, swinging the flaming boulder around recklessly, in the vain hopes of crushing Baozhai. This did not deter Baozhai, who sprinted ever closer. Yemir pulled back her weapon, having it land perfectly in her meaty palm before swinging it horizontally, hoping to sweep Baozhai along with it. Yet Baozhai managed to slide underneath it, mere feet away from Yemir as her amber eyes burned brightly with determination.

It all happened so fast as the Cofagrigus lept forth, the ethereal blade slicing through her shadow tethered arm effortlessly. The giant felt nothing at first, naively thinking nothing happened. Only to watch as her limb suddenly separated from her shoulder. Flying through the air as it was still attached to the boulder. Careening some distance away before landing on the ground with an unceremonious thump. Yemir let out a loud yell, clutching at the stump where her right arm used to be as blood gushed out of it, the pain wracking through her body. Though the giant seemed to treat it more as an inconvenience then the fact she just lost an arm. Her grip tightened as she turned her head back at Baozhai. Her mismatched eyes glaring at the mummy, anger beginning to rise once more while the mummy matched her stare in ferocity. The two were silent before Baozhai simply uttered, “do you yield?”

Yemir snarled at the mummy, her teeth bared as she felt tempted to lunge for and crush the ancient spirit with her powerful jaws. Yet, in the back of Yemir’s mind, she recalled the little promise she had made to her father. Her face quivered before letting out a sigh, “I yield.” “Good”, the mummy seemed satisfied with Yemir’s response. Staring at her sword, Bao swung the blade to the side, flicking the titan’s blood off of it. “Sting is satisfied with the battle. Now fetch your arm, I would hate to see you forget the trinkets your father left behind”, the mummy stated. Yemir rolled her eyes, even though she wasn’t that forgetful as she stumbled forward to retrieve her missing limb. Baozhai walked in step by Yemir’s side, silently eyeing the giant’s wound while Yemir leaned forward, picking the limb up with her free hand. “Excellent, let us make haste, lest we attract unwanted guests with our little scuffle”, Baozhai gestured to all the destruction around them. Yemir merely stared at Baozhai as she turned around and began to walk away. 

“Why?”, the giant called out. Stopping the empress in her tracks as Yemir took a step forward. “Why are ya doing this? Ye hate my guts. Sliced my damn arm off fer fuck’s sake. But ya still want me with you. Why?”, the giant called out as Baozhai remained silent before simply responding with, “I have a duty to my friends, nothing more.” Yemir’s mouth curled into a snarl as she took another step forward. “Bullshit!”, the giant yelled at the top of her lungs. “There’s more than just fucking duty! Yer a bitch, there’s gotta be a better reason!” Baozhai turned her head in response to this, her eyes matching Yemir with a frosty glare. “Say that again”, the ghost demanded of Yemir, her tone unwavering.

Yemir paused, looking down at the severed hand she clutched tightly before looking back up at Baozhai. “Yer a bitch.” Baozhai merely let out an icy laugh, chilling Yemir’s soul. “You’re right, I am a bitch… Does it matter, though?”, the warrior ghost replied as she crossed her arms. Yemir tilted her head, trying to respond. Yet nothing would come out as she fumbled with the words. “I’m a bitch. A tyrant. A devil. I’ve been called these things and more by those who hated me with every fiber of their being. But does it matter? To which I would say, no, it didn’t. Want to know why? Because they lacked the power to be right”, Baozhai proclaimed casually. Waving an arm, as if to dismiss these accusations.

“It’s one thing to speak the truth. It’s another to have the power to back it up as well. For what good is “truth” if you can’t maintain your own? What good is the wailing of those who had been conquered, yet lacked the strength to stand up and make their truth become a reality? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing”, Baozhai stated, her serene expression became more menacing as a result. “You want to know why I’m helping you? True, I do have my duty to my friend. But I also have my own reasons. If I am to retake my kingdom, my region. What good is ruling if I have naught but cinders and the entire world breathing down my back?”, the ghost explained, expression never faltering. “You think those Golurks were trouble? They’re only the beginning! In case you fail to notice, you practically nuked an entire forest, caused untold damage to a nearby city and the surrounding area-”, only to be cut off by Yemir. 

“-That wasn’t my fault, it was Whisper and Eudai’s fault!”, Yemir retorted. Baozhai’s serene expression shattered in an instant. “It is your fucking fault, Yemir! You think just because your siblings pissed you off that it makes things better? Men, women, children. You killed everyone in that area and now they’ll want blood! You think people give a fuck? Honestly, answer me that. Do they give a shit about you throwing a little temper tantrum because Eudai is an asshole? No, they do not! The only thing that matters to them is your death and nothing will change that.” Baozhai was practically fuming with anger, Yemir unable to talk back as the mummy’s words hit the giant like a truck. After a few seconds, an aura surrounded Baozhai. Her seething rage subdued as she returned to her calmer demeanor. Staring back at Yemir, her expression.

“Let me ask you this. When you exploded, White Forest was gone. But do you believe your siblings perished on that day? Wiped away in the blast of your all consuming rage?” Yemir stared at the ground like a whipped dog. Unable to answer for a short bit before she took in a deep breath and sighed. “No, I never saw it and I have no memories of what happened in our fight fer the most part. But I can… feel them. Like me gut knows they’re still out there”, Yemir rumbled. Refusing to make eye contact with Baozhai. “I’ll take your word for it. If that’s the case, then they’ll likely take advantage of this situation. Use your desperation against you. Especially Eudai”, Baozhai commented, Yemir had a spark of anger in her from mention of that name.

“I know the pain that comes from betrayal, truly, I do. But going about this blindly, nonchalantly, there's no solution at all. You mentioned your brother wanting to become one. If this is the case, I want you to contemplate your brother holding the raw physical strength you’re capable of, as well as the strange power your sister wields. How well do you think that’ll go?” The question seemed to slap Yemir in the face as she lifted her head. “Not good.”

“Yes, not good at all. So ask yourself this. Which truth do you want to prevail? The truth of Eudai? Validated in his treachery. Or the truth of Yemir? Who managed to endure, despite the machinations of her siblings.” Yemir barely gave this question any thought. “My truth.” Baozhai smiled slightly at this, seemingly pleased with Yemir’s response. “As it should be. Now come, I’d really like a headstart before they come to “grace” us with their presence”, Baozhai scoffed as Yemir raised her brow, staring down at the empress. “Wha, wait. Who? Whose coming?” Yemir asked. Baozhai paused before staring back at Yemir. “White Forest is home to a great many deal of creatures. Yet, is special to a certain group that hailed from this region long ago.” Baozhai paused, turning her back to Yemir, but not before uttering a single word.

“Dragons.”

[manggaetteokkie]

Why 2HA adaptation might not be as bad as we think...

Okay so BL novel “The Husky and His White Cat Shizun” (chinese title: “二哈和他的白猫师尊”) aka 2HA is getting a live adaption which will be called “Immortality” (“皓衣行”). I know that usually, fans of original works are less than excited about this kinds of news and with good reasons. The issue is that those who buy the IP rights to a novel simply see its popularity and think that they can profit off of it without actually trying to understand the reason behind its popularity. Too often, BL fans see themselves forced to endure any of the following: 1) sex change of one of the male leads, 2) creation of a random female love interest, 3) turning a happy end into a bad end, 4) adding a bunch of scenes unrelated to our main pair that ends up dragging the series, 5) turning romance into brotherly affection... the list goes on and on. Sometimes, companies think that as long as they film any two guys together and sell a bit of physical touching here and there, fans will jump on it like rabid dogs which... is kinda stupid because, y’know, we have eyes (and standards) too.

So obviously, with the unprecedented popularity that came with the release of The Untamed, even more producers are starting to see the potential of danmei (BL) novels and with it came an onslaught of IP rights being bought and adapted. The list is pretty extensive, with some big names that I’m sure anyone who’s even slightly in the Chinese BL novel community has heard of before. Of course, included in that list, with the casting for the leads done and filming underway, is 2HA.

Quick overview of the story for those of you that don’t know: the story is set in the POV of the “gong” (top), a character named Mo Ran (also known as Mo Weiyu) who is the disciple of Chu Wanning, the “shou” (bottom) of our story. In his original life, Mo Ran had become the Emperor of the cultivation world through slaughter and tyranny, with the only one ever coming close to stopping him being his shizun, Chu Wanning, who eventually lost his life trying to stop him. After achieving the top by committing pretty much all crimes and sins known to men, weary and tired, Mo Ran decides to take his own life and ends it all. Unexpectedly, instead of dying and going to Hell, he transmigrated to the first year he became a disciple. As a thirty-something man in the body of a teen, he decides to do things right this time around and save the one he couldn’t save the first time around. As he goes through life a second time, truth after truths reveal themselves, with the biggest surprise being that the Shizun he hated so much in his previous life, and who Mo Ran thought hated/scorned him, actually turned out to be protecting him the entire time. 

Mo Ran, in his past life, was powerful, cruel, merciless and arrogant. There was nothing he could not obtain and he knew it. He was cynical, had a very jaded view of the world and was kind of unstable (lots of mood swings and temper tantrums). After his rebirth, he still maintained some of the arrogance and cynicism, but is more mischievous, confident and cheeky. He is very much like a husky, looks kind of scary and big, but can be extremely loyal to the ones he recognizes and can be a bit dumb sometimes. Chu Wanning on the other hand, is an unflappable person with a frost-like exterior, but a heart of gold. Basically, he cares a lot but it’s easier for him to look like he doesn’t than to voice his feelings. He gets embarrassed easily and covers his embarrassment using anger. He is extremely strong, likes peace and quiet, and always abides by the rules. 

Their relationship is kind of complicated. Initially, Mo Ran was in love with a fellow disciple called Shi Mei (despite the word meaning junior female disciple in Chinese, it’s actually the name of a male character). In the original timeline, Shi Mei died and that was the start of Mo Ran’s decline. After his rebirth, Mo Ran decides that he will do everything in his power to prevent Shi Mei from dying again. Don’t be mistaken though, Shi Mei is NOT the male lead. You’ll see as you read more that despite being in love with Shi Mei, Mo Ran is pretty obsessed with Chu Wanning because their relationship was kind of... complicated in the original timeline.

This is pretty much the premise for the story, but do be warned that it goes much deeper and darker than what you might expect (it’s rated R-18 for a reason). So why exactly am I writing all of this? To put it simply, I just kind of want to hype up the series and its adaptation a little, or at least, pique enough interest to give the live action adaptation a chance. Not gonna lie, when I heard 2HA was getting adapted, I was pretty skeptical because how. Mo Ran and Chu Wanning had a pretty physical relationship in the pre-rebirth timeline and that’s partially where the obsession that Mo Ran feels towards Chu Wanning stems from. There’s just basically a lot of unresolved sexual tension between them throughout the novel that I simply couldn’t see getting adapted. However, after thinking about it and reevaluating things from a low-expectations-standpoint, I think it might actually be possible to film something close enough to the original work. Here are some of the factors that influenced my opinion:

First, the series is set to air for 50 episodes (just like The Untamed). Why is the number of episodes important? Because it will determine how closely the adaptation will follow the original story and how much random stuff they can fit into it. Let’s take a step back and evaluate: 2HA’s novel has 311 chapters + extras while MDZS has 113 + extras. Obviously, people might have an issue with the number of episodes (”How are you going to air the same amount of episodes for a series that’s thrice as long??”) but I think it’s a good amount. Why? Because it pretty much guarantees a solid pacing that’ll keep the story moving forward without stagnating. I don’t think there is too much to worry in terms of too much source material being cut because quite a few chapters are R-18/romantic lining scenes that would not have gotten adapted anyways. Once those get deleted, I think 50 episodes is an acceptable amount.

Second, the entire production seems to be solid. The rights were actually bought by Tencent who, if you forgot, was also responsible for The Untamed. With prior success, I believe that they now have a pretty solid idea of how things should be run. Also, the CGI and world-design team is the same one as for Ashes of Love, which has me pretty stoked because while CG in chinese dramas has always been a hit or miss, Ashes of Love is definitely amongst some of the best I’ve seen (see below for examples). (P.S. there are also rumours that Lin Hai, the one responsible for The Untamed’s OST, might be working on 2HA but this is mere speculation at this point.) Overall, 2HA is looking to be like the most high-profile and expensive BL adaption yet.

Third and finally, the casting.

Holy.

Okay.

This is what has me the most hyped. 

Let’s start with Shi Mei, who will be portrayed by actress Chen Yao (or Sebrina Chen).

I know I’ve said that despite the name, Shi Mei is a male. As it turns out, likely for censorship reasons, “Immortality” could not escape from the clutches of the dreaded sex change so they went ahead and turned him into a girl. While not ideal, in my opinion, it actually works out pretty nicely here. In this case, it means that Mo Ran is in love with a female character which would further draw censorship’s attention away from the fact that Mo Ran really has a thing for his beautiful shizun. While it would have been perfect if everything could go according to source material, the fact that it’s Shi Mei that went through a sex change actually works pretty favourably in the grand scheme of things. Not to mention the actress set to play Shi Mei has some good experience acting similar roles so overall, I say that I trust her.

Next, we have Chu Wanning who will be played by Luo Yunxi (or Leo Luo).

For this character, I have no worries whatsoever. If you’re unfamiliar with this actor, I highly recommend you give Ashes of Love a try. He played the 2nd lead and ugh. He’s so good at playing beautiful and elegant characters that are forced to undergo a ton of suffering and pain. Luo Yunxi used to be a professional ballet dancer so he moves with grace and his fight scenes are amazing to watch. Also, he has great control over his facial expressions. He’s able to act out characters that suffer a lot without making them seem weak or powerless. Even the way he cries can be considered both beautiful and heartbreaking.

Finally, we have Mo Ran who will be portrayed by Chen Feiyu (or Arthur Chen).

Mo Ran is an extremely complex character. From pre-rebirth’s insanity and arrogance, to post-rebirth’s hope and reservation, to post-revelation’s love and devotion, the actor’s going to have a lot on his plate. Originally, when I first googled him, I thought that while he’d manage to pull off post-rebirth teen!Mo Ran fairly well given how clean and refreshing his face looks, he’d have a harder time pulling off pre-rebirth’s arrogance, craziness and general “hardness”. However, after seeing some costume designs and makeup edits, I think that the boy might just pull it off. Also, while the actor is nowhere near as solid as Luo Yunxi is, it seems that he’s willing to put in extra time and effort (as seen by his Weibo post about how he’d been studying the source material) to make up for it. I think that with enough dedication, he might just be able to pull it off.

(Psssst! By the way, keeping this strictly between you and me, another reason why I’m such a fan of this pair is because of the height difference. I mean just look at this?? Their height difference is pretty much bang on with the novel height difference after Mo Ran grew past Chu Wanning’s height. Not to mention, don’t tell me you see this and don’t automatically picture a the big dorky puppy following his reserved and cool master around?)

So yeah, all of this just to say that it might be okay to kind of have some expectations for 2HA. I really want to keep my own expectations down as low as possible given the amount of times we’ve been burned but I want to remain hopeful that, with the success of The Untamed, it can pave the way for better and more faithful danmei adaptations, with 2HA being one of them.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Admiral’s Children.”

This is also in response to a request someone made, so hope you you guys like it :) 

Eris floated through the darkness. She had seen the memories of sunrises and sunsets in other people’s heads, but she had never really seen one herself. Noctopolis was a terraformed world kept artificially livable by a great deal of technologies. It didn’t require the warming heat of the sun.

The warm musty breath of Noctopolis’s metal mines washed up into her face, and not for the first time she regretted inheriting that particular sense from her human donor. She turned, long dark hair flowing around her body in great swirling wisps as she floated back into the hybrid compound.

It was mostly quiet around here, and it had been for a while since the news. She knew it was unrealistic, and hardly fair for Commander Vir that the had collectively accepted his DNA role in their existence. After all, he had not been a willing donor, but out of all the people her hybrids had chosen to emulate, they could hardly have picked a better man, though she recognized her opinion was rather biased.

Still, she had seen inside his head at one point, and seen what thoughts lingered there.

While there were some pretty horrible thoughts, harbored in the back of the head and hidden under the conscious folds -- like every other human -- his greatest urges had been nothing more than kindness and duty to upholding what he believed to be right.

She respected that, and was glad to share his genetic signature.

She hoped that the others would take the opportunity to learn from their surrogate. His sacrifice would hopefully push them towards greatness in the future.

Her long flowing locks brushed against the back of her thighs as she floated inward. 

The hair mixed with her sparse ribbons, and hid the strange and useless vestiges from view.

She floated inside smiling reassuringly at her hybrids, who spend their time in various stages of study and play. Play that they were allowed only after all their work was done.

She would not have uneducated hybrids.

Eris herself knew all that she needed to know, as she had the collective memory of anyone who stepped into her circle of thought. It was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing because she had all the life experience she needed to have without ever having to experience it herself, not to mention all of the knowledge that came with it.

On the other hand, she had all the pain and memory of suffering that came with the same, sometimes making it hard to be in the presence of others for too long lest she be overwhelmed by their memories.

Today she sensed sadness and followed its trailed to the next room, where four large figures sat brooding, three of them curled up together and one of them curled up alone in the corner.

The spiderlings were big now, probably as big as they were going to get somewhere between human size and the size of the adaptids. At the shoulder Glados was nearly five and a half feet tall with her ten spidery appendages and doglike head. The soft peach fuzz of human hair that had grown atop her skin had thickened in recent months giving her a light coating of hair so the skin was no longer showing. It was a more pleasant look now that it had been before.

Eris floated over and rested a hand on Glados’s back.

Glados tried to pull away, but Eris kept hr hand there.

She knew what the spiderling wanted despite the spiderling not wanting to admit it.

“I know you miss him.”

“Go away.”

“I know he would miss you too.”

Glados snarled, “No he doesn’t. He left us here to rot.”

She didn’t mean it, but Glados often said things she did not mean in the heat of the moment, so eris did not take it personally.

“He knew what was est for you, so don’t even give me that. And we both know that he loved you.”

“I’m not human.”

Eris sighed inwardly. She sure thought and acted like a human if her raging mood swings were anything to judge by. Eris scooted closer and cradled the large soft head in her arms resisting when Glados tried to get away, “He was unprepared, no more than a child himself when he was asked to take care of you. And he did love you.”

“Then why didn’t he come back?” She wondered softly, her strange robotic voice filling the room with it’s forlorn echo.

Eris went quiet, “I am sure he tried his best little one.”

The news of his memorial had reached them weeks after it had all happened. Granted there were plenty of ways in which the information could have reached them, but somehow things always seemed to come slowly to Noctopolis.

Eris remained there, stroking a hand through Glados’s hair as she sat in contemplation. 

His absence had been hard on the entire galaxy. Things had happened that no one had expected to happen following his disappearance including, but not limited to a sudden slow in commerce between worlds, a drop in interstellar tourism, and increasing tensions between specific nations.

The only reason she knew they were managing to hold together had something to do with the burg war.

It was funny how the universe seemed to hinge on the ability of one man to keep himself alive, and one rather dumbass man at that. The thought sort of mad her smile in a sad way, because she knew her thought process wasn’t the truth. It was hardly giving him as much credit as he deserved.

She had chosen to accept him after all.

There was a soft scuttling at the door and she looked up to find the spiderthing walking into the room.

He had grown up quickly, and aside from having a lower half that looked like an adapted, his upper half looked like a gangly tweenage human boy.

“Eris, a ship is coming. They want to talk to you.’

“Do you know them?”

“No, their name is the Omen.”

She had never heard the name before, but she assumed it was her job to go and greet them despite not wanting anything to do with other people at this current moment in time.

She got to her feet patting Glados’s ears before hoving into the next room with a sigh.

She couldn’t sense any thoughts yet, though her range was actually way more limited than she would have liked to admit.

The spiderthing followed along with her as they walked outside and watched the slow descent of the ship.

She floated there adjusting her long, dark tresses.

She liked them long, and hoped that one day she could grow it down to her ankles, despite knowing that was probably a bad idea.

A sharp clattered allerted her to the shuttle touchdown, and she moved forward, barely listening to the inner voices of the people inside. She was sure she would be able to read their intentions when they stepped out.

Eris was not often surprised, but when she was, she really was.

Because she recognized those thoughts the moment they stepped out onto the tarmac.

-I wonder how Glados is going to react to me being alive…. Lets be honest, she is either going to kill me or hug me…. Or totally both-

She froze on the spot, and the spiderthing turned to look at her with great confusion and concern.

-And Eris, she can read minds so she will totally know about how me and Su- no no, don’t think about that, don’t think about that, don’t think about that. Conn already knows, that twinkly bastard, and the less people who know right now the better-

Eris still did not move as another voice intruded on her thoughts.

-I wonder how happy they will be to see him. Will they be angry because that is something I can completely understand…. Still he is rather adorable, it is hard to be mad at him for more than five seconds-- an internal sigh of frustration followed -He is a great exercise of my patience though, if things between us continue to advance this slowly, I am going to be old and desaturated by the time he figures himself out-

Eris shook herself staring forward at the figure who walked up the little walkway towards them.

He had on a beaming bright smile.

When she didn’t move, he simply walked forward and folded his arms around her. He was warm and inviting.

--I hope she is ok with me hugging her. I probably should have asked--

She hugged him back in response, so tight she thought maybe she was going to break him and half hoping that she would.

She pulled back blinking in shock as Adam smiled back at her. 

Memories came rushing into her head, and she had to blink a few times to figure it out.

“Wow, a lot has happened to you since you last visited.” She said breathily.

Admiral Vir tilted his head, “Didn’t you know I was coming, I would assume the entire universe would have known by now.”

Eris sighed in frustration and mild anger, “No one tells us anything on Noctropolis, and even less people come and tell US what is going on.”

Behind him, a young woman stood staring wide eyed and nervous at her.

Her thoughts were everywhere -- who is this! The admiral never mentioned a starborn with hair, or a starborn that isn’t wearing clothes…. Am I supposed to look away? I don’t know. And is it just me or do they sort of look alike in some weird way….--

Eris chose to ignore her for the moment. She touched hands on his shoulders and hugged him tight again, “I am so glad you're alive. Everyone was devastated when we got the news the first time…. Glados has been… well she…”

“I missed her too. I missed all of them.”

Eris continued to beam in disbelief.

His radiant smile seemed to lighten up her day as he took her by the elbow, hand resting comfortingly over hers. He was more comfortable with that that he had been before and the reaction made her heart beat just a little faster. For a moment she could almost pretend like she didn’t have the needs of so many people resting on her shoulders

With him there it felt like everything was going to be alright,

She could hear it too, echoing in his own head, the need to take care of everyone just like she felt.

Maybe it ran in the family.

“This place looks amazing, Eris. I can’t believe what you’ve accomplished.”

His compliment spread warmth through her insides like he was pouring warm water down through the tp of her head She beamed, “It’s all thanks to you.”

“You always give me more credit than I am worth.” He laughed 

They turned the corner and Admiral vir paused just outside the room looking in, not sure how he was supposed to feel about that was to come next. He wasn’t entirely sure if he should be expecting to get hit or not.

Eris smiled, “I think you are ok to go in.”

***

Glados lay by herself staring at the corner wall her legs tucked underneath her. It just wasn’t fair.

It just wasn’t fair that everyone else was finding all of this so much easier than she was.

Everyone else had always found everything so much easier than she did,

They weren’t so angry all the time like she was and they didn’t miss dad like she did, and no one seemed to see how annoying it was that he had gone and left them here to learn and do school things without even coming to visit, and no one else seemed annoyed that he had stupidly gone off and died without even really thinking about them in the first place.

She thought it was selfish of him.

She hated him for it, but even thinking about hating him just made her want to cry which made her even more angry. None of the others could cry, none of the other had inherited tear ducts like she had. None of the others had to deal with all the stupid human problems than she had inherited above them

None of them got it,

She just wanted to scream in frustration and rage because no one understood her, and even when they did understand her, lke Eris, and sai all the things sh wanted them to say, that didn’t mean she wanted to hear them say the things that she wanted them to say.

Eris was cheating anyway. She didn’t have to try and figure things out like everyone else.

It wasn't hard for her, but it was for Glados.

“Wow, you…. You’ve all gotten big. I remember when you guys hatched you were no bigger than my ifst. Now you might as well be taller than me.”

Glados paused in her musings just long enough to be angry, and then she went back to her brooding.

Another annoying person that she didn’t care to talk to

Behind her the others began to squeal and shout which just made her even more annoyed on top of all the annoyance that she already had. She just wanted them all to SHUT UP.

In anger she turned around, waiting to chase anyone out of the room who dare intrude on her anger and solitude, but as soon as she did that, she froze in place, eyes wide and staring at the figure who knelt on the floor Next to Hal and Cortana. 

Before she knew what she was doing, she rushed forward bowling the other two to the side and then mashing the third figure into the floor.

The familiar smell was overwhelming, comforting, and she hated every second of it.

“WHERE WERE YOU!”

She shrieked.

He grunted, “Wow, you talk better than I remember.”

“You were gone FOREVER.”

“I am really sorry about that, but I didn’t mean to.”

Glados snarled, and host pulled back hands raised, “I’m sorry Glados, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to go missing and I am sure you have to know that.” Her hearts were hamming inside her SHe didn’t know mother, and she didn’t know father, but she did know host, and he had left her alone here thinking that he was dead, and now he just turned up

“I hate you.” She snarled 

His single green eye softened slightly, and she could see that she hurt him, and though she didn’t want to care, she very much did

She wanted to run away to go feel bad somewhere else, but he sat up tightening his arms around her body until she couldn't move, “Well it doesn't' after if you do hate me alright. I just want to say i am sorry and I love you and there isn’t anything you can do about it.

Her anger melted after a moment ans she gave in in frustration. He was so small now, she could probably rip Host’s throat out with her teeth though the thought made her physically ill to think about. The others scooted forward and pushed at her.

:Move over Glados.”

“Yeah you remember what they said about sharing.”

She snarled but knew that she would only get in trouble if she tried to tell them what she really thought. She tired to move away but Host grabbed her foot and she was unable to move anywhere.

He hugged the others while still keeping her pinned in place, “I missed you all, and wow have you gotten big, what has Eris been feeding you.” Glados finally gave in at some point, knowing there was nothing that she was going to be able to do about this

He had won.

She lay down on the floor and rested her head in his lap as he stroked a hand over her ears.

She listened to him talk without really paying attention.

Humans had such nice voices, and Host had the nicest voice of all.

This was not an opinion, it was a fact and anyone who disagreed with her could take it up with her teeth.

***

Off on the  other side of the room Sunny leaned back against the wall arms crossed over her chest smiling internally to herself as she watched Adam reunited with the spiderlings. Glados didn’t like her much so she decided to stay back, but it was a pretty endearing reunion all the same.

The young lieutenant stood wide eyed off to the side clutching her holo-pad in front of her chest.

Sunny smirked.

“What…. Is all this?” the young Lt asked.

Sunny shrugged.

“Oh those are the spidelrings.”

“The who?”

“The spiderlings. They are the product of an adapted using his body to hatch eggs not long ago.”

“What!” her voice went up a few octaves Sunny reckoned, and she hissed slightly through the breathing holes at the base of her neck. A deep rumble of amusement broke through her chest, “Listen most of the hybrids here are technically his children if you want to mince about with words I suppose.”

Lt Simon just stared at her, “Is this a problem that occurs often?”

“Yes,, you will likely have many alien hybrid children.”

Simon stared at her, and Sunny stared back determined not to let simon know if she was bluffing or not.

It was probably mean to do this to the kid like she had, but it was still kind of funny, and she left her stewing as she walked over to speak with Eris.

They were going to stay for a week or two to make up things to the spiderlings, but then they were going to have to be off again.

Space, wile ancient, waited for no one, 

[whitewolfandthefox]

Stay With Me

This was a request sent in by @thenocturnalsyren​ I’ve cut a little bit of the prompt out because I thought it would spoil the ending, and we all know I hate doing that :P 

Prompt: Can I get a Geralt x reader? He’s tasked to escort a princess (reader) to her betrothed’s kingdom. It’s a political marriage and she doesn’t know the prince she’s set to marry. Over the course of the journey, Geralt and the reader fall in love. 

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist!

Words: 8k

Summary: Geralt x reader; Geralt has been tasked with escorting you to complete a business deal with another family. He thinks it will be an easy job, but little does he know, the deal isn’t what it seems to be. And you have a secret you haven’t revealed.

A/N. Sooo, I’ve sat on this one for a while, so sorry! It also got super long, I was hoping to keep it under 3k and thaaaat didn’t happen. Oops!

Stay With Me

Geralt had fallen. Hard. He hadn’t expected to enjoy this journey as much as he did when they had started out, but he also hadn’t counted on you. The Witcher normally didn’t do escort jobs, but he and Jaskier had been short on coin and it had seemed fairly easy, so he’d agreed to take it. You were fairly agreeable as well; you didn’t complain, you helped with tasks around the camp, and Roach liked you, so obviously you were good to have along. 

When the three of you had started out on your journey (Jaskier had come with you, proclaiming something about beautiful ladies being angry), you had been very quiet. The bard would try to draw you into conversations but you would just give him a small smile and deftly avoid the question or comment. Geralt had noticed this but didn’t do anything about it, figuring you were wary of the pair or perhaps that you thought yourself above them. He knew you came from a well-off family, but your title hadn’t been disclosed to them. You were travelling for a business deal, finalizing a contract between your two families. As your small group had departed in the middle of the night, the Witcher couldn’t help feeling suspicious of the true nature of the arrangement. For safety, he was told; a rival family had been after you recently, wanting the benefits of this deal for themselves. This didn’t sit right with him, but the coin was good, so he pushed the feeling aside.

After watching you for a few days, Geralt had decided you weren’t a threat. Sure, you were quiet, but you had started engaging with the pair and were always keen to help out. He shrugged before pushing you to the back of his mind, content that the next few weeks should be fairly easy and he would get decent pay out of it.

His assessment of you was shaken about two weeks into the journey. You had relaxed around them, even starting to respond to Jaskier’s gentle attempts to include you. The bard had been delighted at your responses, slowly working his way under your skin. You were funny, you had little quips that you would fire back at him followed by your clear laugh ringing through the air. Geralt had thought that maybe he would have had to keep him away from you but Jaskier had been on his best behavior, not going past any mild flirting. The Witcher had chalked it up to the fact Jaskier was respecting that Geralt was travelling with them as well, not wanting to suffer the Witcher’s silent glare he directed at the bard whenever he engaged in a tryst within earshot.

Though still wary, Geralt gradually grew to realize he enjoyed your company. Your laugh would coax a faint smile out of him; you left gentle touches on his shoulder as you passed him while setting up camp. He was astounded; normally nobles were disgusted by him, not wanting to get too close. You were different though: this was the most relaxed that Geralt had seen you since the journey had started. 

What really transformed his opinion of you was when Geralt had awoken in the middle of the night to hear you crying. You had tried to keep quiet, muffling the sounds into your blanket as you sobbed. He hadn’t moved, not wanting to let you know that he was awake to overhear your misery. This happened this next several days: Geralt waking up to hear you crying softly to yourself. He never addressed it, only making sure that a plate of food was ready for you, gently pushing it in your direction. He was met with puffy, red rimmed eyes and a wet smile, a soft murmur of thanks occasionally accompanying them.

Geralt tried to push one day, asking you about where you were traveling and the real reason behind it. He didn’t know why he cared, but something wasn’t sitting right with him, and maybe he enjoyed your company and didn’t like seeing you so sad. Obviously this wasn’t just a regular business deal; an ordinary contract wouldn’t drive you to tears nearly every night. You had dodged the questions, giving generic answers that sounded like they had been memorized, as if for a test. When he asked about the details of the business deal, you shut down. You offered him a tight smile before announcing that the group needed more wood and disappearing into the trees. Jaskier had sent a glance at the Witcher, confused by your mood. “What was that about?”

Geralt could only offer a shrug, unable to answer the bard’s question. The two continued staring at the fire, letting their sore muscles relax after the long day of travel. The quiet was broken by a sudden scream. Geralt shot to his feet, sprinting into the woods before he had consciously decided to move and cursing himself for letting you go off on your own.

As he raced through the forest, he could hear the clash of steel on steel, punctuated by shouting, the sounds of a fight reaching him through the trees. He skidded to a stop in a clearing, sword in hand. As he frantically searched the area, a flash of light alerted him to a blade swinging for his head. He spun to the side, knocking the sword away and down with his own as he came face to face with you, wild-eyed as you dropped your weapon at the sight of him. He had forgotten that you wore a sword.

The Witcher gaped at you as Jaskier came running in behind him, the stunned silence that had fallen over the clearing broken by your sobs as tears spilled from your eyes. Jaskier was quick to wrap you in an embrace, shushing you as he ran a hand soothingly through your hair, supporting you as you sagged towards the ground. Geralt didn’t relax, sharp gaze scanning the clearing in an effort to determine what had happened. His confusion rose as he saw three bodies scattered across the ground, clearly having been dispatched by a blade. 

It wasn't often that the Witcher was surprised. You were clearly competent with a sword; he couldn’t think of any other explanation for the three dead men and the bloodied blade you had dropped. Trusting Jaskier to look after you, he moved cautiously towards the men, kneeling next to the first one as he searched the body for clues that would give an indication of who had attacked you and why. As he looked at the uniform the first man was wearing, he recognized the Vaithan crest, a kingdom across the river from the one you had left. Sparing a glance at the other two, his frown grew as he saw the same uniforms adorning them. Why were Vaithan soldiers after you? Why were the royal guards getting involved in a business deal?

Investigation finished, Geralt approached the pair, drawing Jaskier’s attention as he neared. He gestured back towards your campsite, the bard understanding his silent request as he nudged you to a standing position, pulling you against himself to help support you. You stumbled along, eyes glassy as your breath hitched in short, shallow gasps. 

Reaching your things, Geralt helped Jaskier get you onto the ground, busying himself with cleaning your sword as the other man continued to soothe you before turning his attention to the fire. His mind was whirling, confused thoughts surrounding you and the reasons behind your journey. There were people after you, that was clear, but he didn’t understand why. He was just adding more wood to stoke the flames when Jaskier’s low voice broke into his thoughts. The tone that the bard had used aroused concern in him.

“Geralt, can you come take a look at this?” As the Witcher approached, Jaskier held his arm out, hand covered in blood. Geralt’s heart shot into his mouth, panicked as he rushed towards the bard, hands darting out as he searched the man for the wound he had to have sustained. 

“Geralt, Geralt! I’m fine! Geralt!” The bard was shouting at the man, slapping his hands away from his body. “It’s not mine!”

The Witcher froze as the words registered in his mind before turning his attention to you. He slowly moved to your other side, noting how your eyes were distant, chest labouring as you struggled for breath. Following Jaskier’s directions, he quickly cut away the bloodied cloth - how did he not notice this before, he should have smelled the scent of blood on you - to reveal a deep gash on the back of your upper arm. Jaskier maintained a tight grip on the wound, keeping the flow to a minimum as Geralt retrieved his healing supplies. A salve was quickly applied before stitches were put into the wound and a bandage wrapped around the arm. You were unresponsive throughout the Witcher’s ministrations, the man having to gently move you to get access to your wound. As the first stitch went in you flinched, before remaining motionless as he continued. He could hear your breaths hitching as he worked, heart pulling at your unresponsiveness.

After coaxing a sleeping potion into you, the pair put you to bed, Geralt drawing a blanket over your shoulders as a heavy feeling settled in his gut at your stillness. He listened attentively, reassured by the sound of your thumping steadily in his ears as he watched your chest rise and fall. He told himself it was because of the job: it was his responsibility to keep you safe, there was nothing else behind the concern that he felt for you.

**~*~*~*~**

You were a little groggy the next morning, not quite functioning at one hundred percent. Geralt found it fucking funny, you were normally so put together that seeing you lost was a little bit endearing. You looked like a puppy, wide eyed and pouting. He helped you throughout the day, making sure you ate breakfast, redressing your wound, and keeping you on Roach with him while Jaskier rode your horse. He kept this up throughout the next few days, even as you started being able to do things yourself. Something in his chest would soften, a tightly coiled knot tugged loose when you would smile shyly up at him and quietly thank him, and Geralt found himself doing more for you just to draw them out.

Once you had healed, he tentatively asked if you wanted to practice your swordwork. You were clearly competent (you had taken down three grown men on your own, after all) but he wanted to make see for himself. Knowing you were smaller than him and weren’t as strong, Geralt decided he would tone it down a little bit to give you a fighting chance. Little did he know that you had been trained by one of the best swordmasters in your kingdom, maybe the continent. You had been the youngest of five daughters, so your father had treated you like the son he never had. You had been allowed to run rampant, joining him on hunts and practicing swordplay. This had left you a free spirit, never content to sit through the stuffy business deals your family conducted. This was the most fun you had had in a long time. 

Without the knowledge that you were an extremely well trained swordswoman, Geralt held himself back as he faced off against you. Much to his surprise he quickly found himself on his back, your sword at his throat. Looking up to see a cocky grin on your face, clearly pleased with how quickly you had overcome him, he felt a flash of admiration and something else burn through him. The scent of pride drifted through the air towards him, pushing him over the edge. He growled low in his throat as he knocked your blade away, leaping to his feet as he grabbed for his sword, throwing himself completely into sparring as you recovered from the surprise, a feral laugh bursting out of your chest. As you held your own against him, Geralt felt proud, and a little bit excited he had finally found someone who could keep up with him.

The fight ended as Geralt twisted his blade, sending yours flying across the clearing. He was reversing it to bring to your throat, caught off guard as you launched yourself at him with a shout, wrestling him for the sword as you tackled him to the ground. The blade was quickly lost as you rolled through the grass, your breathless giggles warming Geralt’s heart. He ended up on top of you, arms on either side of your head as he supported his body over yours. You grinned up at him, chest heaving, clearly pleased with your performance. Your expression slowly changed to something else, something more intense that the Witcher couldn’t read as your scent changed. It was a pleasant mixture, light and airy, not something he normally smelt, a sharp scent mixed in that he couldn’t identify. He could hear your heart racing in your chest as you gazed up at him, lips parted as you remained relaxed beneath him.

He didn’t know what came over him as his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up before leaning down, your breath mixing with his as he got closer. Abruptly, Jaskier’s loud voice boomed through the clearing, startling the two of you as Geralt rolled to his feet, sticking a hand out to help you up. He could see a light blush dusting your cheeks as you fixed your clothes, refusing to look at him. Disappointment and embarrassment drifted through the air, confusing the Witcher before he shook himself, turning to see a slightly inebriated bard stumbling through the trees. Your attention was quickly taken as you fussed over Jaskier, forcing water and some herbs into him before you put him to bed. As you did this, Geralt kept catching the glances you sent his way, charged with something that he couldn’t identify. 

As the days went on, you relaxed further with the two, starting to show physical affection to the both of them. Jaskier was given playful swats whenever he would tease you, accompanied by your laugh as you quipped something back at him. Geralt found he wanted to see the smiles sent his way, rather than the bard’s, though he was not without your attention. You gifted the Witcher with gentle lingering touches, your hand resting on his shoulder or his arm as you would slip past him. Sometimes, you would cajole the man to sit in front of you as you carefully brushed and braided his hair, working loose the tangles formed during one of your sparring sessions or a hunt. 

You were still being hunted, but now that Geralt knew it was Vaithan soldiers after you it was easy to evade them. He had worked with them before, so he was familiar with their patrol patterns and tracking methods. He would lay false trails for them, sending them on wild goose chases through the wilderness. Occasionally they would catch up to the small group, but between you and Geralt they were quickly dispatched. The aftermath was filled with gentle touches from you or the Witcher, the other sitting quietly through their ministrations. There were no serious wounds; the two of you quickly learned each other’s fighting styles and adapted to complement each other. Often there were no wounds to be found, just sore muscles to be attended to. 

As you got more comfortable in the Witcher’s presence, you started teasing him as well. Nicknames like ‘the big bad wolf’ or ‘big bad witcher’ started to be commonplace in your vocabulary. He would tease you back, calling you ‘flower’ or ‘little duck’. If he was particularly annoyed with you, ‘princess’ would appear. You had flinched the first time he called you that, before firing back a particularly clever quip, drawing Jaskier in as well. You didn’t flinch the second time, but Geralt didn’t often use that nickname, sensing there was something else behind it.

When you were close to towns Jaskier started finding reasons to leave the two of you alone. It was awkward at first, but you quickly fell into a rhythm. There was a lot of teasing that slowly fell into a companionable silence, which you sometimes filled with your chatter. It often ended with you tucked into Geralt’s side, tracing patterns into his knee as you stared at the fire. His fingers would fidget, tapping different rhythms onto your skin. It was nice, Geralt thought, having someone to share the silence with. Jaskier never shut up, but he was also just a friend. You, you were different, maybe more than a friend. As he came to this realization, he looked down to find you staring up at him, emotion swimming in your eyes. 

The air felt charged, as if he was being drawn to you. The world stopped as he drowned in your eyes, pulled into their Y/E/C depths as he slowly leaned down, your eyes fluttering shut but not releasing him from their spell as he pressed his lips against yours, breath mingling as you sighed into him. You shifted, turning your body into him as one hand found his chest while the other fisted into his hair. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him. You went willingly, allowing yourself to be moved so that you were straddling his thighs, leaning into his chest as your lips moved against his. He only pulled back when he needed air, your chest heaving as you leaned your forehead against him. He opened his eyes to see a smile, face serene as you caught your breath. As if you felt his gaze on you your eyes opened to meet his. He felt as if he was caught within your gaze, peace filling him, feeling as if he was finally able to get air after drowning for so long. 

You giggled as you lay your head on his chest, draping yourself against him. “This is nice,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his middle as you went boneless against him. 

Geralt hummed in agreement, liking the warm feeling that came over him at the feeling of your body on his. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close. He could smell your pleasure drifting through the air, encouraging him to nuzzle into your hair.

“I wish I could stay like this forever, in this moment with you.” You pulled back slightly, looking at the man with a genuine expression on your face. “I really do care for you, Geralt. Thank you.”

Your hand came up to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, keeping his eyes on you. His lips quirked upwards before he leaned forward, capturing your lips again. This kiss was messy, a battle of tongue and teeth as he nipped your bottom lip, exploring your mouth with his tongue when you gasped at the sensation. His hands roamed downwards, finding a place on your ass as you moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sounds, chasing you until one of your hands tangled itself into his hair, pulling on the strands. He growled at the feeling, kissing and nipping down your neck as you gasped, grinding down on him. 

You tilted your head back, granting him better access to your throat. A rush of adrenaline ran through him at that motion; he didn’t want you baring your throat for any other man, you were his. Overcome by the desire to claim, he bit down on tender, supple skin, sucking a mark into the hollow above your collarbone. You yelped at the action, tugging at his hair again. Your breath stuttered as you managed to gasp his name, “Ger- Geralt, I can’t.”

He growled again, pleased that he had reduced you to this. He moved to your other side, biting at your shoulder, groaning as you jerked against him. “Geralt, stop, please-”

At the sound of your pleading voice, some sort of warning went off, forcing him to think rather than acting on his baser instincts. He drew back, pausing at the look on your face. He couldn’t smell the bitter scent of fear, but you looked nervous. You were flushed, lips swollen from his attention, but your eyes held a hidden emotion. Frowning, he ran a hand through your hair as you refused to meet his gaze. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - Sorry, I just-”

He halted your stuttering as he pressed a chaste kiss against your lips, knot loosening in his chest as you melted against him, returning the kiss fiercely. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask. Forgive me, little duck.”

You smiled before tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “I do- want to- I just, I’ve never...” Again, he shushed you, one hand rubbing patterns into your back as the other tightened around your waist.

“I have all the time in the world for you. We’ll take it slow.”

**~*~*~*~**

After that night, you were much more tactile with the Witcher. Most nights found you in his lap, relaxing into his embrace as you wildly told a story from your childhood, Jaskier in stitches next to you. You started pulling your bedroll closer to his, inching it closer night by night. The bard had finally had enough of your bullshit, marching over and picking up your bedroll only to lay it next to Geralt’s as he shot a knowing look at the two of you. You had blushed at that, refusing to look at either man for a little while. You hadn’t moved it back though, and the next morning you had woken up with your legs tangled in Geralt’s, head on his chest as he held you tucked against him. 

You stole kisses from him throughout the day, leaving gentle touches on his arms as you passed him. You let Jaskier ride your horse, choosing instead to stay with Geralt, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you as you travelled. You continued your training bouts, though they often ended in fierce makeout sessions rather than actual fighting. It was a good life, and you were happy with what you had. You could almost forget about your destination, about the actual reason for your travelling, the one that neither man knew about.

Almost.

**~*~*~*~**

As the small trio got closer to their destination, you grew tenser and quieter, shrinking into yourself as you withdrew from the pair. Jaskier tried to draw you out of your shell, but his best attempts weren’t enough. Geralt pressed you, trying to understand why you were suddenly pulling away, frustrated at the lack of response. One night, when Jaskier had left the two of you alone, Geralt confronted you about what was happening.

“Y/N, I don’t understand. What’s wrong?” Geralt had knelt in front of you, effectively trapping you as you would have had to step over and around him to escape. You couldn’t meet his gaze as you responded.

“Nothing is wrong, Geralt, I am merely preparing for when I meet my betrothed.” At your words, it felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the Witcher, dousing him in the reality of your situation. He had forgotten you were a noble, seeming to enjoy playing games with those you considered beneath you. And play you had, leading Geralt on as he escorted you to your marriage. You weren’t any different than the rest of them.

“Your betrothed.” He saw you flinch at his flat tone, face dropping as you realized your misstep. “I see. This was all just a game to you, something to keep your mind occupied while we travelled.” 

Geralt stood, turning his back to and walking away. He closed his eyes at your sharp inhale, could hear your heart rate increase as you stumbled to your feet, chasing after him. “I will get you to your destination, and then after that I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Geralt, no, it’s not like that, you don’t understand- I would never-” He shrugged your hand off as you reached for his arm, turning to face you with a look of rage on his face. You recoiled at that action, face shocked as you pulled your hand to your chest. His heart sunk at the fear on your face, he could smell the acrid scent diffusing into the air, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t let you continue with this little game.

“What don’t I understand, princess?” he near-snarled, sneering when you flinched at the nickname. “I think it’s pretty straightforward. I was supposed to be escorting you to your wedding, and you’ve played my heart. I lo--I cared for you, I let you in. I don’t do that, never do that. But I did for you and you played me like a fucking string. Well, I thank you, princess, for illuminating that fact for me. I will make sure to never do this again.”

He turned away, fist clenching at his side as he controlled himself. He started walking away from you, pausing as he heard you let out a sob and fall to the ground, voice breaking as you screamed at him. “That’s what you don’t understand, that fucking nickname! It’s haunted me my entire life, and you were the only one who saw it for what it was, a nickname, not my fucking title!”

His heart clenched at the heartbreak clear in your voice. He closed his eyes, inhaling deepling through his nose as he fought to keep himself from running to you, wanting nothing more than to take the agony out of your voice. Cautiously, he glanced over his shoulder, seeing you on your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Princess,” you spat, a vicious expression on your face. “I never wanted to be a princess, I hated being a princess. I forgot, Geralt, you let me forget that that’s what I was! I could be normal with you, you and Jaskier, who didn’t care about the pomp and celebration. You wanted nothing from me. I could let my guard down around you and just be myself! I didn’t, I don’t want this marriage, it’s the last thing I would do if I had the choice! But I’ll never escape it, Geralt, they will chase me down and lock me away, dress me up in fancy clothes and keep me a prisoner in that damn castle. I only want to stay with you.”

Your voice broke on the last word as sobs ripped their way out of your throat, finally releasing the misery and anguish that had been building up over the last few weeks. Geralt was left reeling; you were a princess? Fuck, that explained so much. He had known there was more to this business deal than what it appeared to be: this was a political marriage. You clearly didn’t want it, not that you seemed to have a choice. Geralt was torn: you had lied to him, yes, but it was clear you hadn’t wanted to or done it with any ill intentions. He hung his head, trying to figure out what he wanted to do. You sounded so miserable, all he wanted to do was wrap you up in his arms and protect you from the hardships of the world.

He cautiously approached you, heart breaking at the gut wrenching sobs that were being torn from your chest. He slowly knelt in front of you, reaching a hand out to place under your chin, drawing your gaze up to his. You met his eyes and Geralt could see the pain that was swimming behind your irises. His voice was soft when he spoke, though still reserved. “I believe you.”

At his words, you launched yourself forwards, catching him off guard as your momentum pushed him backwards to land on his backside, you clutched to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you babbled, words streaming out of you as you clutched at his clothing, trying desperately to get as close as you could.

He shushed you, arms pulling you closer as he tucked your head beneath his chin. He slowly rocked you, listening to the sound of your heartbeat as he examined his memories of the last few weeks, finding only fondness and warmth; he couldn’t find anything that would suggest you were doing this to hurt him. He could hear your laugh in his ears and it sounded genuine. The sobs that were forcing their way out of you were undoubtedly real, and Geralt found he didn’t want you to hurt anymore, only wanting to protect you. He dropped a kiss on the top of your head, hand releasing you to rub patterns into your back, soothing you as he continued his gentle circling motion. 

You quieted after several minutes, hiccuping as you tried to pull away. Geralt held on a moment longer, tightening his grip before rearranging you so that you were seated sideways in his lap, legs draped over his thigh as your shoulder rested against his chest. He held you loosely, arms draped around your waist as he waited for you to speak. “I’m sorry, Geralt, that I didn’t tell you the truth. I’ll understand if you want me to finish this journey by myself, if you don’t want to see me again. I’ll still give you your coin, you’ve escorted me most of the way there.”

Geralt was stunned; that was the last thing he had expected you to say. As the meaning of the words registered, he found that he didn’t want to leave you, that he didn’t want to say goodbye. It was a new feeling, a knot loosened in his chest as something pleasant warmed him from his toes up to his head. He tightened his grip on you, drawing a squeak as he growled, “I’m not letting you go anywhere, little duck.”

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, puffy eyes filled with hope. “You don’t hate me?” Your voice was small, hesitant as you spoke.

The Witcher looked down at you, hand reaching up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against yours, smiling when you sighed into his mouth and melted into his chest. Your hands came up to fist into his shirt, just resting against him. He drew away slowly, hesitant to see the look in your eyes. One of your hands came up to cup his cheek, and he instinctively turned his face into the warmth, nuzzling your palm as he pressed into the touch. You smiled up at him, eyes soft as a whispered “thank you” fell from your lips. You curled into him, hands back on his chest as you slowly drifted, Geralt holding you against him as you fell asleep. 

This was how Jaskier found the two of you a while later, a soft smile appearing on his face. When he opened his mouth to say something, Geralt growled at him. “Not a word, bard.”

Jaskier held his hands up in surrender, turning away to set up his bedroll with a smirk on his face.

**~*~*~*~**

The next two days were sad but gentle, the two of you trying to steal away as many moments together as you could before you had to leave. The Witcher had suggested not delivering you to the castle, but you had smiled sadly as you shook your head. Reaching up to run your fingers down his cheek, you had explained that you had tried to run away before, only to be hunted down and returned to your parents. After that, you hadn’t been allowed to be alone, always having a servant or guard watching you to make sure you stayed. Even before you left, your mother had warned you that if you didn’t uphold your end of the marriage, you wouldn’t have a moment of peace; you would be hunted until you were found and returned to your betrothed’s side. 

As the castle came into view, you requested a brief respite. Geralt had frowned at you as you untied a bag from your saddle, but you only offered him a tight smile before slipping into the woods. Jaskier had glanced over at the Witcher, a question on his lips, but Geralt had only shrugged, an expression that said I’m just as confused as you are on his face. It had been several minutes since you had disappeared, and Geralt shifting nervously as you still didn’t reappear. He had just made up his mind, dismounting to go after you when you appeared in the trees, the sight of you making Geralt’s heart stop.

You had changed out of your travelling clothes into a magnificent dress. The dress itself was made out of fine silk, the colour complimenting your Y/E/C eyes. It fell to your ankles, soft slippers peeking out from beneath the hem. Your sleeves ended just past your elbows, fine lace forming a ruffle along the ends. The collar draped across your chest, sleeves just off your shoulders as two thin straps covered in jewels connected behind your chest. Your hair was piled high on your head, a silver crown resting in the plaits.

Geralt realized he was staring when you blushed, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Do I look okay?” you asked demurely, shy now that your travelling companions saw you for who you really were.

“Do you look- Darling, you look amazing! That colour really suits you, it's no wonder Geralt is- ow!” The bard cut himself off as one of the Witcher’s hands shot out to smack him upside the head. Jaskier muttered to himself as he rubbed at the irritated spot, cursing Witchers under his breath. Geralt approached you, hands reaching for yours as he gazed down at you, the warm feeling he so often in your presence felt bubbling up inside him once more. You wouldn’t meet his eyes, so he reached out and lifted your chin, admiring you the whole while.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, the corners of his lips turning up as you blushed once more. You fingers tightened on his before you let go, retreating back to your horse. Mounting, you settled yourself with your skirts hitched to your knees, ignoring the wolf whistle the bard let out at the sight. “Fuck off, I hate riding side saddle.”

Geralt grinned at that, before realizing what this meant. You were to be parted soon, sold off like property in order to further your kingdom’s advances. He understood your reasons, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. A silence fell over the group as Geralt followed your lead, remounting Roach before falling in behind you. 

As you rode up to the gates, Geralt watched your posture change. The laid back traveller was quickly replaced by the royal princess, back straightening as you held your head high. You no longer looked around to admire the sights, looking straight ahead as you ignored the merchants passing you on the road. You didn’t acknowledge the guards who stopped your progress, allowing Jaskier to announce you when they inquired. Your small group was quickly led to an antechamber, Geralt insisting that he wait with you in order to see the contract completed. 

As the door closed behind the soldier, your posture slumped, tears coming to your eyes. Geralt was quick to cross the room, kneeling in front of you as you collapsed into a chair, blinking up at the ceiling to stop yourself from crying. He rested a hand on yours, intertwining your fingers as he squeezed, offering silent support. Jaskier did the same, perching himself on the arm of your chair, hand squeezing your shoulder to remind you he was there. 

You composed yourself as the door opened, standing to meet the page that entered. He bowed deeply before gesturing that you should follow him. You took a moment, straightening your back as you fussed with your dress before stepping forward, any hint of hesitation or reluctance gone from your posture. Geralt and Jaskier followed at your sides, a somber feeling overcoming the party. Jaskier looked close to being in tears, having gotten close to you over the journey. Geralt felt much the same, not wanting to let you go but understanding he had to.

His heart clenched as the double doors in front of their party opened, revealing the throne room to them. There were two people sat on the thrones perched on the dais, with a small group of people standing below. They turned at the sound of the doors

 The page announced “Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of Tairis” before bowing as you swept into the room. 

Geralt almost stumbled as he spotted the prince approaching you, a sharp feeling flaring in his chest before he shoved it down. Was that…. It couldn’t be. He was brought back to the present as you curtsied, holding your hand out to the prince to kiss as he bent over it. “Prince Raleigh, it’s so good to finally meet you,” you murmured, a fake smile pasted on your face.

The prince answered you, but Geralt didn’t hear it as the world halted around him, the prince’s name pulling a memory from deep within him. As he stared at the young man, he could see that the prince wasn’t happy with this arrangement either, he could smell the fear and reluctance wafting through the air. Hope bubbling up in his chest. Geralt waited as you completed your greetings before striding over to the prince, bowing in greeting.

“Geralt!” the man exclaimed, a genuine smile appearing on his face. “How are you? It’s been what, three years since I last saw you?”

“That is has been,” Geralt rumbled, pleased that the prince was still the happy young man underneath the layers of formality. “But if I may have a word with you, Prince Raleigh? Privately?”

“Of course, of course! Anything for you, my good Witcher,” the prince was quick to lead him to an office as he ignored the half-hearted protests from his staff. As he closed the door behind him, he turned to face Geralt, face dropping as he continued. “It’s felt like it's been longer than three years since we last saw each other, my friend. And as much as I am glad to see you again, our meeting is tainted by your contract. I wish you had just come to visit.”

Geralt’s eyebrows rose at the prince’s bluntness, struggling to keep the hope that flared in his chest from showing on his face. “Oh? You weren’t looking forward to meeting your betrothed?”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but he kept his face neutral, not wanting to give anything away. The prince made a face at his question, leaning against the desk in the middle of the room as he crossed his arms across his chest. “I wasn’t aware that she was even my betrothed before yesterday. Apparently it was a deal our parents had made when we were young, and they ‘forgot’ to mention it to me.” The last sentence was accompanied by air quotes, the tone overly sarcastic.

The prince pushed off of the desk, walking over to gaze out the window as he continued. “I had hoped to court someone else, to have had the chance to explore, marry for love, maybe. She’s beautiful, she just makes my heart sing.” He glanced over at Geralt as the Witcher moved to join him. He grinned wryly, “But it was not to be, eh?”

“What if it was?” Raleigh shot Geralt a sharp look at his question. Turning fully to look at him, the prince narrowed eyes, “What do you mean by that?”

“Do you remember how we met, prince?” Geralt walked over to the desk, picking up a quill from the surface and toying with it. “How I saved your life?”

“Yes, and then when I asked what you wanted in return you said…” as he trailed off, Raleigh turned to look at the Witcher, realization dawning on his face as what Geralt was suggesting became apparent. ‘You would claim-” he cut himself off, not wanting to voice the hope that was slowly wafting through the room. 

Geralt nodded, keeping his gaze on the prince. “I would, I- I love her.”

The prince grinned at his admission, hope flaring in his eyes. “Well then, my dear Witcher, let’s go turn that fucking room on it’s head. Lead the way.”

Returning to the room, the two men found two groups of people waiting; the royals murmuring amongst themselves as Jaskier and Y/N waited on the other side of the room, sending anxious glances towards the office. The prince bounced over to the group, a brilliant smile on his face. His parents looked at him warily, the group dispersing as you and Jaskier made your way over to join them. The prince made a grand bow as he stopped in front of the king and queen, flourishing as he stood. “Mother, Father, Sir Geralt has something he would like to say.”

The Witcher stepped up beside the prince, meeting the royals’ gazes. In a low voice, Geralt spoke the line he had been angling for ever since he saw your betrothed. “I claim the Law of Surprise that Prince Raleigh owes me, in return for saving his life.”

He ignored the sharp inhale that came from the queen as she realized where he was going with this. “I claim that which the prince possesses but does not know: I claim Princess Y/N.”

As he spoke that damning sentence, he turned to you, watched the surprise flit over your face before you settled on hope, your eyes shining as you realized what he had done. As conversation burst out behind him, Prince Raleigh shouting over his parents to make himself heard, he only had eyes for you. His gaze roamed over your face, taking in all of the little details he hadn’t let himself notice since you had revealed your secret. He could see the tension draining out of your shoulders as he stepped closer to you, unshed tears shining in your brilliant eyes. He could smell your hope, your happiness drifting through the air towards him as you dared to allow yourself the thought that this may end up the way you wanted it to. 

As he took another step towards you, your expression broke as you rushed towards him, jumping into his arms as he pulled you against him, tangling his hand in your hair as his other wrapped around your waist, holding you to his chest. He looked down at you, saw the happiness shining in your gaze as you stared back before he lowered his head, capturing your lips with his as he swallowed your sigh. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he basked in your scent. 

Feeling a hand on his arm, Geralt opened his eyes and looked to the side to see Jaskier standing there, a huge grin on his face. You laughed quietly, reaching an arm out to tug the bard into the hug, clinging to both him and Geralt as he wrapped you in his arms, pulling the Witcher back in when he tried to pull away. The larger man grumbled under his breath but let himself be squished into the embrace. As silence fell, the three of you pulled away to see the rest of the people in the room staring at you. The king and his advisors all had impassive expressions while the queen and Prince Raleigh were looking at the three of you softly. 

The king opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by a hand on his arm. The queen smiled gently at him before turning her gaze to you. Geralt felt you shift nervously beneath his arm, could smell your anxiety as you waited for the answer to the Witcher’s claim. He could hear your heart racing, its rhythm picking up as the queen smiled, stepping forward as she gestured for you to do the same. She took your hands as you approached her, before pulling you in for a hug. Geralt could hear her whispered words, meant only for you. “I wish you all of the best, dear. As much as I wish you could join our family, I realize now that you’ve found your place in life.”

You let out a sob, gripping the woman tighter as you mumbled thank yous. She shushed you, running a hand down your back as she pulled away, smiling down at you, reaching up to brush the tears from your cheeks. She looked at Geralt, holding out a hand to him. The Witcher was quick to join her, placing his larger hand in hers. She smiled up at him, “Take care of her, she is a precious gift.”

“Of course,” he replied, taking your hand in his other, squeezing your fingers as he smiled down at you. You looked back, beaming up at him, adoration clear in your eyes.

The queen moved behind you two, placing her hands on your shoulders as she announced, “The Law of Surprise has been claimed! And I acknowledge it. Princess Y/N satisfies the Witcher Geralt’s claim, as destiny proclaims.”

Prince Raleigh cheered at his mother’s proclamation as Geralt tucked you back into him. The queen turned around in response to your questioning hand. “Would you- would it be possible for you to- my parents-” you stuttered, adoration filling Geralt’s heart as your royal demeanor fell away. 

“It’s no problem, child, what would you like?” The queen took your hand between both of hers, you calming at her touch. You took a deep breath, reaching up to pull the crown from your hair before handing it to her. Geralt felt like his heart might burst, understanding the silent symbolism of shedding your royal duties. 

“Of course, I will send this back to your parents and let them know what has come of you. Now go, child, enjoy your new life.” You relaxed at her words, at the finality of her taking your crown. You thanked her before turning back to Geralt, tugging on his hand as you left the throne room, leaving your old life behind. Jaskier quickly followed you, face breaking out into a brilliant grin as the three of you rode out of the gates. Your laughter filled the air, lifting Geralt’s heart at the sound. You left the castle, Geralt taking a moment to stop and ponder it. When they had entered earlier that day, silence and misery had been all that had accompanied; now that you were leaving with him, his soul felt lighter, heart happy as you took your rightful place by his side.

Later that night, Geralt watched you with a fond gaze as you gleefully burnt your dress, severing that last link to your life that you had. As you looked up, you met his gaze over the fire. Seeing the sheer happiness and joy that was on your face felt like the most important thing in the world to him, he wouldn’t have changed anything in the world. As you finished poking at the fabric, you came over to him, dropping a kiss on his hair as you sat down, tucking yourself under his arm. He pulled you closer to him, lacing his free hand with yours as he relaxed, leaning his chin on your head as he inhaled your scent. He felt comforted, happy, now that he had you with him. 

He settled further into the grass, pulling you down as he lay back. You let out a soft noise that sparked a warm heat in the middle of his chest, prompting him to roll onto his side, tugging you closer so that your legs tangled with his as you pressed your nose into his chest, relaxing into his warmth. He murmured soft nonsense into your hair as you drifted, going limbless against him. Geralt sighed as you babbled in your sleep, relaxing as he let himself drift off to sleep alongside you.

**~*~*~*~**

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[sisterspooky1013]

Never Give Up On A Miracle by SisterSpooky1013

12,864 words / Read it Here on AO3

X Files Missing Scene Fanfic Exchange gift to @night-of-cydonia , tagging @today-in-fic

Prompt: what happened after the flashbacks in Per Manum, from Mulder’s perspective?

It had been hours. Or it felt like it had been hours, anyway. He craned his neck to see the time on the microwave; 3:15. Her appointment was at 1:00, she should be back by now. He considered calling her, but maybe she wanted to be alone. Maybe it was bad news again. He shifted around a bit to get more comfortable on her small couch, thought about lying down in her bed but decided against it. Thought about digging through her fridge for something to eat, but decided against that, too. If Scully was devastated right now, if the last embryo transfer didn’t work, he had no right to physical comfort or nourishment. So he laid there and waited.

When she’d first asked him to be her sperm donor, he was so shocked he couldn’t speak. That turned out to be a good thing, because she insisted that he not answer right away; she wanted him to take some time to think it over, not go with whatever response came to him readily. He wasn’t sure if she was worried that a too-fast response would be a yes or a no; was she afraid he’d regret saying yes? Or was she worried that he’d say no, but might have said yes if he’d had more time to think? It didn’t matter, his immediate answer was yes, and his answer the next day when he stopped by her apartment was yes, and each and every time he saw her, or thought about it, or went to the clinic for his “deposit,” his mind screamed yes. Yes, I want to father your child. Yes, I want to be tied to you forever. Yes, I want to argue over whether or not they can play contact sports or date when they’re 15 and whether we’re willing to pay out of state tuition for college. Yes, I want it all, with you. He didn’t really know if any of that was available to him; maybe she just wanted his sperm and nothing more. But whatever it was, however little or much she wanted from him and with him, the answer when it came to Scully was always yes.

When he’d come by her apartment to give her his answer, there was so much he’d wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he needed her to be in his life always, that whether she decided to quit the FBI or transfer back to Quantico, or something else entirely, that he would be by her side. He’d tried to say all those things, but what came out was “I wouldn’t want this to come between us,” which he realized too late sounded like he was softening a “no.” The look on her face was a punch to the gut; the gentle quiver in her chin that she recovered from quickly, her rush to assure him that it was okay, that she understood. All the profound things he’d wanted to confess fell out of his head and the only thing he could muster was that the answer was yes. Watching the realization dawn on her, the relief flooding her body, the joy that tugged at the corners of her mouth, felt like magic. That he could make her that happy was something he’d only dreamed of. She’d hugged him so tightly, and he smiled against her hair, smelling her shampoo. For as much pain and suffering as he’d brought into her life, he could do this for her. It didn’t make up for all the rest, but it was something.

He’d had a lot of questions about how the procedure worked, but he didn’t want to burden her with explaining it so he did his own research, learning about all the hormones she’d have to inject herself with to prepare her body and the affects they would have on her, and the need for precise timing of when they transferred the embryo into her uterus.

The embryo.

It was a medical term, but in a literal sense it was the combination of their DNA. Half of her and half of him, duplicating and developing into what had the potential to become a baby. It got them ¾ of the way to pregnant; all the embryo had to do was attach to her uterine lining. It just had to stick around. The statistics said there was a 60% chance, generally speaking, but that didn’t necessarily take into account the damage done to her ova under cryo storage, much less the damage done to her body during her abduction; he doubted the medical community had data on how those factors affected her odds.

The first transfer he was mostly out of the loop on. Scully told him when to go in and provide his sperm sample, and that was it. He observed her mood swings and irritability and inferred they were side effects from the hormones, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to be intrusive and wasn’t sure what his role was. He wanted to know everything, but he didn’t think he had a right to. One day, a couple weeks after he’d spent some quality time in the donation room, she’d been flipping through some documents in the office when she got a paper cut. What started with an expletive quickly devolved into sobbing and he was confused, and worried, and a little bit scared. He went to her, gently placing a hand on her back, and she shook her head as if to say “it’s nothing, I’m fine.” He crouched down beside her, trying to see her face, but she hid it in her hands.

“Is it…is it the hormones?” He’d asked tentatively.

She’d looked at him then, her eyes bloodshot and wet, and shook her head again.

“It didn’t take,” she squeaked out between shuddering breaths. “I went in for a pregnancy test yesterday. It didn’t work.”

He’d moved closer, kneeling on the floor beside her chair, and enveloped her in a tight hug, stroking her back as he whispered in her ear reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Scully. We can try again, right?”

She’d nodded, but didn’t speak, her arms wrapped around his neck with a strangling grip. After a time, the sobs that racked her tiny frame subsided and she sniffled, relaxing a little. He took a chance at humor, wanting to bring some levity to the moment.

“That one just wasn’t the one, Scully. It was probably the next Jeffrey Dahmer or something.”

She snuffed a small laugh, pulling back to look at him. The pain in her eyes gripped at his heart and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep his own emotions from spilling over.

“Why didn’t you tell me when the transfer was, or when you were taking a test?” He asked, hoping that his tone conveyed care and concern, not irritation.

She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be that involved. I didn’t want you to feel obligated I guess.”

He picked up one of her hands from her lap and held it between both of his.

“I want to be as involved as you’ll allow me to be. It’s your decision, but I’d like to know where you’re at in the process, if I can. Did more than one zygote make it to embryo stage? Did they freeze any?” His knees ached from kneeling on the floor but he didn’t want to lose this moment where she seemed to be opening up to him.

The corner of her mouth quirked and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yes, there were three embryos resulting from fertilization. They transferred one, and the other two are in cold storage. How do you know so much about this, Mulder?”

He gave her a shy smile and shrugged.

“Well I wanted to know what was going to happen to my… my genetic material, so I did a little research.”

Her mouth screwed up in attempt to hide her smile. It was an expression he knew well.

“I promise I’ll let you know for the next one” she finally said, putting her other hand on top of his and squeezing.

She was good to her word, letting him know when she started her period, and that the next transfer would be about 15 days later. She’d even jokingly asked him how his donation appointment went and then laughed at him as his face turned beet red, assuring him it wasn’t a question she expected him to answer. When she snapped at him for something mundane, she apologized and explained that the hormones she was taking to prepare her uterine lining for the embryo transfer made her irritable. On the day of the transfer, she wouldn’t let him go with her but she did let him bring her dinner afterward, and then pretended not to mind that he treated her like she was made of glass until the day she could take a test. Being included in the anticipation and build up was amazing, and he found himself daydreaming about what a child of theirs would look like, how cute Scully would look with a little belly. It also made it that much harder when she called him to say that it didn’t take again. He asked if he could come over, but she insisted that she wanted to be alone. He sat in his empty apartment as the weight of disappointment settled on his shoulders, and he realized how much he had wanted it. Not just for Scully, he’d wanted it for him. He wanted to be a father, wanted to share a child with her. He’d never had strong feelings either way about parenthood, and now he could see that was because he’d never known anyone he wanted to be a parent WITH. Now that he had glimpsed what having a child with Scully might be like, he wanted it more than just about anything. A few quiet tears rolled down his cheeks and he wiped them away before grabbing his gym bag and heading out to shoot some hoops.

They’d had three eggs that fertilized, three chances, and that was it. There were no more viable eggs. The third cycle felt different, less anticipatory and more desperate. She kept him in the loop, but they were both on edge the whole time. After the transfer, she took a day off to relax, hopefully increase her odds, and he brought her lunch and smiled through his anxiety while they talked about everything except what they were both thinking about. He wanted it to work, so badly, but there was nothing he could do to affect the outcome. It felt incredibly helpless, standing by while she overanalyzed every twinge in her belly, wondering if it meant something. Over lunch the day before she went in for her test, he gently asked if he could come with her, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. It was news that he was just as invested in as she was, even though he worked hard to hide it. The last thing he wanted to do was add his own emotional needs to her overloaded plate; she should only be worrying about herself, not him. She declined, but compromised on letting him wait for her at her apartment, so he’d know as soon as she got home, and so he could be with her either way.

So here he was, waiting. The delay in her return told him he should prepare for bad news, but the mind is a fickle thing and he was still dreaming of a positive. He envisioned a daughter, a tiny thing with red hair and blue eyes. Basically a pint sized version of Scully, freckles and all. She’d be wicked smart, of course, and curious as hell. He wondered if Scully would want to name her after one of their sisters, maybe both. Would she want the baby to have his last name? It would be her choice, but the idea of another Samantha Mulder having a chance in the world made him smile as a lump formed in his throat. At some point he drifted off, visions of tossing a toddler in the air while Scully looked on with a smile dancing behind his eyelids.

It was the thunk of the deadbolt that woke him. He jolted upright, orienting himself to space and time, rushing quickly to the realization that he was about to learn his fate. Standing, he spoke.

“Scully? I must have dozed off, I was waiting for you to get back.”

One look at her face was enough. He felt his stomach lurch. He tried to find words as his heart quickened, searching for a sign one way or the other, grasping at hope. But he knew. She walked towards him slowly, her chin puckered and her eyes wet. It was bad news.

“It didn’t take, did it?”

“I guess it was too much to hope for,” her voice was strained around the fresh tears that pooled in her eyes.

He felt his heart break. He’d hurt many times, for many reasons. He’d worried over Scully countless times. He’d cried for her, and with her. He’d grieved for his sister for the majority of his life. But this hurt was different. This was the woman he loved more than life itself telling him that her dreams of being a mother were over. It was the end of a road, the slam of a door, the handful of dirt tossed on a coffin containing hope. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and hiding his own pained expression in her hair, rocking her back and forth gently.

“It was my last chance” she keened into his ear, and he pulled a deep breath in through is nose to ward off his own tears. He needed to be strong for her. She could not bear the weight of his own grief on top of hers. He held her tighter. Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breath, swallowing the lump in his throat until he thought he could speak without crying. Pulling away from her slightly, he kissed her forehead and then rested his own against it, taking another beat to recover.

“Never give up on a miracle” he finally said, not sure what exactly he meant by it. He knew he didn’t want her to give up, but he wasn’t sure what a miracle would look like. He did know that if anyone was deserving of a miracle, it was Scully.

She leaned back into him, tilting her face towards his so that for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. Just before her lips met his she passed his mouth and instead pressed them against his cheek, resting them there for a beat before she returned to his embrace. They stood like that for an agonizingly long time, rocking gently back and forth while her tears soaked the shoulder of his sweater and and her sobs became more shallow and further apart. He held her until she grew limp in his arms, and then he bent down and scooped her up, carrying her to the couch where he sat with her in his lap. She leaned into his chest, her eyes closed, as he reached down and plucked her boots from her feet, tossing them to the floor in a way that he knew would drive her crazy if she had the wherewithal to care. Next he pushed her coat off one arm, then lifted her torso off him gently to pull it free from the other arm and tossed it, too, onto the floor. Settling back against the couch, he wrapped one arm around her waist and encouraged her to lean into him, her forehead nestled in the crook of his neck. His other hand peppered her with tiny touches of reassurance; a brush down her shin, a stroke on the outside of her thigh, a thumb grazing her jaw, fingertips dancing over her arm, and finally intertwining with hers and settling in her lap. She was quiet for a long time, so long that he thought she may have fallen asleep. Finally she took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked. It was a rhetorical question, but the only only one he could come up with.

“Not really” she answered, her voice flat.

“What do you need?” He inquired further. He felt like he should do something for her. What do you do for someone who just had their dreams stomped into dust?

She didn’t answer, but he felt her head shake gently against him. She didn’t know what she needed anymore than he did.

“Would you like to take a bath?” He asked, giving her a brief squeeze.

Now she nodded, her cheek brushing against his chest. “That sounds nice.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead before he stood with her in his arms; she was so light it took almost no exertion. He turned and set her gently on the couch and then went in to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He used the toilet and then stared at his reflection while he washed his hands. He stared back at himself, his eyes empty and expressionless. He willed himself not to feel, not to let the sadness overtake him too. He needed to focus on Scully. A pang of pain gripped at his heart and he closed his eyes, biting his lip. Just be here for her. Be her strength. She needs you. With a deep breath, he set his jaw, dried his hands, and drew her a bath.

When he returned to the living room, she was curled up in a ball on her side, staring vacantly. He knelt down beside her and ran his hand down the length of her arm. He forced a small smile to his lips. Be strong for her, he reminded himself.

“Hey,” he said in a near whisper. “Bath’s all ready for you.”

She lifted her head and he offered his hand to help her pull her to standing. She listed slightly, unsteady on her feet, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, escorting her into the bathroom.

“holler if you need me, okay?”

She nodded mutely and he left her, leaving the door open a crack. Returning to the living room, he looked around for something productive to do. He picked up her shoes and set them neatly by the door, hung her coat in the closet, straightened the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. Scully kept her apartment very tidy, so there wasn’t much to be done. It was nearly 5, he should think about dinner soon. A cursory inventory of her fridge indicated that they’d need to order out. Maybe they should watch a movie. Maybe she’d just want to go to bed. Should he get her pajamas ready for her? There was that helpless feeling again.

A sound from the bathroom interrupted his train of thought and he froze, listening. A low moan of agony sounded, followed by a gut wrenching sob. He walked quickly to the bathroom, knocking gently as he brought his lips to small space between the open door and the frame.

“Scully?”

Another wail and a sob. He felt a sharp pain in his chest.

“Scully, are you okay?”

He could hear her falling apart, the shredding sound of her pain gripping at him. He needed to go to her.

“Scully, I’m coming in.”

He pushed the door open slowly, the bathtub coming into view incrementally. She was sitting near the faucet with her legs tucked against her chest, her arms wrapped around them protectively. Her forehead was resting on her knees, and she was shaking with sobs as primal, guttural sounds escaped her lips, which were pulled into a grimace.

He rushed to her side, placing his hand on the bare skin of her back, which was dry and cool in the open air.

“Scully? Talk to me.” He felt afraid. He’d never seen her like this before.

She was shivering violently, her jaw chattering. She wouldn’t respond to him. She had gone somewhere else, somewhere deep inside herself. He needed to either pull her back, or go there with her. He needed to be with her. He stood, pulling his sweater and t shirt over his head in one quick movement, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his legs, plucking off his socks. In a matter of seconds, he was down to his boxers, stepping into the empty space behind her in the tub. He pushed his legs into the narrow gaps on either side of her body and wrapped his arms around her, on top of her own. He pulled her to him so that her back was flush against his chest, and the shock of his warm skin against hers, which was chilled, seemed to jolt her back into reality. She went slack, releasing her grip around her legs as they straightened out before her, her head dropping back against him as she wailed. When she changed position, his arms had drifted to hold her around her rib cage, the soft swell of her breasts brushing against his forearms. She was so raw, so vulnerable, she didn’t even have the sense to care that she was draped over him naked, completely exposed. He was so engulfed with her pain, and with his own threatening to take center stage and pull him under with her, that he didn’t have the presence of mind to be affected by it like he normally may have been. He could see the taper of her waist and the triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, he took in the pinkness of her nipples and the wobble of her breasts as her body shook with her grief, but that’s all it was, grief. He didn’t allow himself to see the beautiful naked body of the woman he loved, he only saw how much pain she was in, and wanted to find some way, any way possible, to help her.

“It’s okay, I’m here” he cooed into her ear, gently rolling side to side in a rocking motion.

She turned then, flipping over on to her belly so that they were chest to chest, her head on his shoulder and her arms wrapping around his torso beneath the water. She was still crying, but more softly, more in control, more present. He looked down the expanse of her bare back, the swell of her buttocks bobbing just above the water line. He saw her tattoo, something she kept mostly hidden from him, and he reached out to trace his finger over it, and endless circle against her skin. His chin quivered and he closed his eyes, keeping his breath steady so she wouldn’t sense the tears that were breaking free from his eyes, rolling down to drop into her hair. He brushed them away, his wet hand spreading even more water on his face, which would only help hide what he wanted to shield her from. Her cries subsided slowly, and then stopped altogether as the water grew tepid. He felt her body stiffen, and knew that she had returned to a level of awareness that made her uncomfortable with how exposed she was and the intimate nature of what they were doing. He lifted his hand to brush her hair from her face tenderly.

“Let me get you a towel, okay?”

She slithered away from him, pulling arms and legs into position to shield her breasts and vulva from view so that he could step out, his soaked boxer shorts clinging to his anatomy. He pulled a towel from the rack and held it open, high enough that it would block his view of her, and she stood so he could wrap it around her tiny frame as she stepped onto the bath mat. He hugged her toweled form to his chest, kissing the crown of her head.

“I’m sorry” she murmured.

He pulled back a bit and looked at her face with confusion.

“For what?” He asked, his voice full of concern.

She shook her head. “I’m a mess” she finally said, her eyes on the floor.

He hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him.

“Of course you are. It’s okay to be a mess sometimes, Scully. It’s nothing to be sorry for.”

The ache in her eyes told him that she felt guilty for needing him, for being weak.

“Let me take care of you. Please.” He implored, and she closed her eyes and nodded softly.

Stepping away from her, he grabbed a second towel and wrapped it around his waist, reaching underneath to pull off his wet underwear and draping it over the side of the tub before slipping his hand under the water to pull the plug.

“come on, let’s get you dressed,” he directed her, putting his hand on her back as they walked to her bedroom.

She sat on the edge of her bed, exhausted but seemingly out of tears to shed for the moment.

“There are some clothes of yours, in the bottom drawer” she said absently over her shoulder, and he pulled it open to find clean boxers, sweatpants and t shirts, all items he’d noticed go missing at one time or another.

“You starting a collection, G-woman?” He teased her, and he was relieved to see her shoulders lift in the tiniest of chuckles. It was something.

He pulled on dry clothes, not concerned that she might turn and see him nude, then started looking through her other drawers for something she might like to wear.

“Do you want pajamas?” He asked, and she shrugged noncommittally. She didn’t care.

He grabbed some silk pajama pants, a black t shirt that looked like it would be comfortably baggy, and then paused at the smaller top drawers he knew would contain her bras and underwear. Which would be more intrusive; going into her underwear drawer or dressing her commando? He glanced at her over his shoulder and quietly opened the drawer. What was most readily available were black cotton briefs, and he snagged a pair to add to the pile of clothes. Towards the back, he could see lace, and red, pink and blue somethings. He glanced over his shoulder again; she had fallen to her side, her back still to him, head on the pillow. With preemptive guilt, he plucked at the red lace with his fingertips, pulling forward an impossibly tiny thong. He felt a little stirring in his pants and shoved it back in, chastising himself for thinking about her like that in a time like this. He closed the drawer and set the pile of clothes on her nightstand, kneeling down on the floor beside her. Her eyes were open and staring at nothing. She was there, but not. He touched her arm gently to get her attention.

“Scully? There are some clothes for you here. I’m going to order dinner, is there anything in particular that sounds good to you?”

Her eyes focused on him as though she’d only just realized he was there.

“What?”

“What do you want to eat?” He pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

She sighed deeply before responding. “I don’t know, Mulder. I’m not sure I can eat.”

“I’ll have to order something really, really good then, so you can’t resist,” he smiled softly at her.

She pushed her mouth into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay.”

He left her to get dressed and ordered pizza from her favorite place, then picked through her DVD collection and opted for something silly and light. Just when he was about to go check on her, she emerged from her bedroom dressed in the clothes he’d picked out and looking slightly more alert. She stopped to look at the opening credits playing on the TV.

“Weekend at Bernies?” She asked with raised eyebrows.

“You own it, Scully, don’t try to act like you don’t like it.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, having no retort for that fact, and sat beside him on the couch, folding her legs beneath her. Mulder appraised her out of the corner of his eye; she looked better, a little bit anyway. They watched the movie in companionable silence, Scully smiling but not laughing at the funny parts, until a knock on the door alerted them that dinner had arrived. After paying the delivery boy, he plopped it unceremoniously on the coffee table and grabbed a roll of paper towels.

“Whose apartment are we at, Mulder?” She asked him with a teasing tone, and he got up to retrieve two plates as well two beers from the fridge. “That’s more like it” she declared, and he was relieved by how much she sounded like herself.

They enjoyed upwards of an hour of something resembling normalcy, but he knew that didn’t mean they were out of the woods. While people like to see grief as a concentrated experience that is constant until it disappears, he knew that it operated more like waves against a shore; sometimes gently lapping, sometimes receding into almost nothing, sometimes crashing suddenly without warning. He would enjoy this still water, ready to hold her up when it returned to knock her on her ass, if she’d let him.

She didn’t eat much, picking at one slice of pizza until it was eventually gone, but she did finish her beer and then lay down, not resisting when he picked up her bare feet and set them in his lap, brushing his thumbs gently against the arches in an almost-foot rub. As the movie approached its conclusion, he glanced at her and saw that her eyes were again wet and shining, though her expression was neutral. He squeezed the foot in his hand and she looked at him, offering a sad smile.

“You wanna go to bed?” He asked, and she nodded. It wasn’t yet 9pm, but she was exhausted from emotion.

He stood and offered his hands to pull her to her feet, pausing to wrap her up in a brief hug before he escorted her to her bedroom. He wanted desperately to be near her, but he also knew that she often chose solitude when she was sad, and the fact that she’d allowed him to be here as long as she had was likely the limit of what he was going to get. Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d let him sleep on the couch. He was considering how to make this request as he pulled back the covers and tucked her into bed, sitting beside her hip on top of the comforter. She took his hand and looked at him in the soft light seeping in from the living room with something like trepidation in her eyes.

“Will you stay?” She asked, and the doubt in her voice shocked him.

“Of course I will,” he answered, squeezing her hand. “I can crash on the couch.”

She shook her head gently. “Will you stay here, with me?”

That lump was back, constricting his voice, so he just smiled at her and nodded, crawling over her legs to lay down behind her on top of the comforter, draping his arm over her waist. They were quiet for a while, but he could feel the buzzing of her thoughts and knew she wasn’t sleeping. It was getting chilly as night fell, and he shivered in his T shirt and sweats.

“Are you cold?” She asked, turning her face to the ceiling in an attempt to look at him.

“I’m okay” he lied.

“Get under the covers,” she ordered, and he complied, the warmth of her tiny body a welcome reprieve from the chill of the room. He returned his arm to its station at her waist and she took his hand under the blankets, clutching it to her belly. She sighed deeply.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, sensing that she wanted to talk.

She rolled on to her back, not releasing his hand, and looked at the ceiling as she spoke. “I just…” she started then stopped, and he watched quietly as a tear escaped the side of her eye and trailed down into her ear. “I feel like I don’t know what to do, how to move forward. Being a mother was always what I pictured for my future, and knowing that I’ll never be one….” She stopped again, wiped her free hand at her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was tight and pained. “I feel like I have no purpose. I know it’s stupid and I don’t believe at all that a woman’s only function in life is to bear children, but I still find myself feeling like my life holds no meaning now. What’s the point of this life if I’ll have nothing to show for it, no legacy to leave?”

He felt his own chin quiver and he pulled her to him, burying her face in his chest and wrapping his arms around her back, cocooning her against his body with her toes brushing his shins. He let out a shuddering breath as quiet tears rolled across the bridge of his nose and into the pillow, rubbing her back and willing himself to regain control. How could he tell her that he felt the same way? When his mom was gone, he would have no one on this Earth who was family to him. He would leave no legacy, at least not one he could be proud of. All he had was her, and she was questioning her worth.

“That’s not true, Scully,” he whispered, whispering being all he could manage through his emotions. “You can’t think like that. For one, this doesn’t have to be the end of the road for you, there are other options, other ways you can be a mom. And even if you choose not to pursue those, you have touched so many lives, mine included. Don’t ever think you won’t leave a legacy.”

She didn’t reply, just sobbed against him, clutching at his back until weariness overtook her and she drifted into a fitful sleep. Mulder stayed awake for a long time, enjoying the proximity to her that he so rarely experienced, the gentle thrum of her heart beating against his sternum a reminder that for all they had lost, they still had each other. At some point, he joined her in the reprieve of unconsciousness.

&&

When he woke, the room was dim though the clock told him it was after 8am. He could hear the patter of rain against the window; a dreary, grey day to complement their broken hearts. He turned to see Scully still sleeping, her plump lips slightly parted and her blonde eyelashes fluttering with dreams. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but now was not the time. He didn’t want her to think it was borne of pity, or sadness, or anything other than an unabashed desire to touch and love her the way she deserved, the way he’d wanted to for years. Reluctantly, he left the warmth of her bed and body to use the bathroom and then start a pot of coffee.

When she emerged 40 minutes later, he was sitting on the couch in silence, a cup of coffee in his hands and his feet on the table.

“Morning” he greeted her with a warm smile, and he felt his heart clench when she walked right over and sat beside him, leaning into his torso so he would wrap an arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest. He had the distinct feeling that she had missed him from her bed and sought out the comfort of his physical presence, and he placed a kiss to the crown of her head in appreciation. “Sleep okay?”

“Okay enough,” she answered.

“Do you feel up to going out for breakfast? Or I can go pick it up and bring it back here, if you want.”

“No, I should get dressed and attempt to be a functioning human at some point” she said, sitting up extracting herself from his embrace. “Give me 30 minutes?”

“I’ll be here, take your time” he replied, and she retreated to the bathroom where he heard the shower come on. Her change in demeanor lifted his spirits, and her acceptance of his comfort drew a smile to his lips. Though he hated the circumstances, he couldn’t deny how good the physical closeness felt. He knew that she’d likely put her walls back up without warning, and vowed to enjoy it while it lasted.

&&

After a short wait, they snagged a booth at one of Scully’s favorite breakfast spots that offered things beyond pancakes and bacon; scrambles on a bed of greens with whole cloves of garlic and house made potatoes were just what she needed. He was happy to see her actually eat and they chatted idly about a case they were planning to fly out on next week, some bureau gossip and the merits of jam versus jelly. During a lull in conversation, he saw Scully glance behind him toward the door and her face fell. He turned to look and immediately knew that the very pregnant woman talking to the hostess was the source of her demeanor change. He slipped out from his side of the booth and sidled up next to her on her side, taking her hand under the table wordlessly.

“I know this is going to sound really terrible,” she spoke in a hushed tone, “but this whole experience has made me really hate pregnant women. I feel angry at them for being able to get pregnant when I can’t.” He easily identified the shame in her statement.

“I think that’s pretty normal. I’ve always kind of hated people with normal families and parents who give them the time of day. It’s not very productive, but it can be pretty cathartic, at least in my experience.”

She looked at him skeptically. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, I’m serious. When I see a two parent family with a boy and a girl, having a nice time out at the park or whatever, some part of my brain thinks ‘I hope they drop their ice cream cone on the pavement.’”

Scully laughed. The sound paired with the broad smile on her face were like fireworks and he beamed at her.

“That’s messed up, Mulder. I like it.”

“I bet that lady’s baby will come out with one of those smushed cone heads” he offered.

“I bet she has heartburn so bad she hasn’t slept in weeks” she retorted, smiling guiltily.

[alolowrites]

Comforting Words

Summary: You return to the U.A. dorms following a disastrous date. Surprisingly Bakugou offers some “comforting words” to you.

Author’s note: As promised, here is the story to celebrate reaching 100 followers!!! Thank you all so much for this! Story is kinda a sequel to “Laundry Night” (idk) ??? Either way, it just seemed fitting to share another Bakugou story to mark such an occasion.

Enjoy!

~~~

I’m so stupid, stupid, stupid!

You figuratively and literally slapped yourself as you marched to your dorm building at like 10:35pm on a Saturday night. Marching to the shared kitchen, you carelessly threw your ice cream pint onto the counter. As you rummaged through the drawers, a growl escaped your mouth when you couldn’t find one spoon. Any other day you would see spoons left and right, yet they magically disappeared when you needed them the most.  

Searching through the billions of utensils in the drawer, you finally found the main prize. Your attention went to the ice cream pint and your fingers furiously tugged on the lid to no avail. Now you were on the verge to punch someone. Why was the universe being so cruel? Did you accidentally piss them off? Are they having some mood swing, because honey this ain’t it.

Why won’t you open?!

“Are you really so pathetic that you can’t open the flimsy ice cream cover?”

You stopped struggling and slammed both your hands against the counter. Closing your eyes, you breathed through your nostrils to calm yourself. Bakugou saw your back and the harsh glare peering over it.

“I’m not in the mood, Bakugou,” you snarled at him. “If you want to insult me, give me two to three business days.”

“Should I send a Google calendar invite to remind you?” He mocked.

Of course he threw that at you.

A piece of hair fell over your eyes and you blew it away. Grabbing the cold pint, you spun around to face your tormentor. Bakugou leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and wore his favorite black shirt.

It was also your favorite shirt. The fabric shamelessly emphasized his Spartan-like muscles as a result of his vigorous training. Feeling your eyes rake at his tone arms, you mentally forced some self-control. You never wanted to give this buffoon the satisfaction that you admired his top-notch physique.

No…you would never hear the end of it from him. So to save face, you diverted your eyes back to the ice cream pint freezing your hand and frowned.

Stupid hormones.

Without looking up, you asked: “Why are you here?”

“You were being too loud,” Bakugou complained. You barked out a dry laugh while snapping your head up.

“I’m being to loud!?” You pointed to yourself with eyebrows raised. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. DIE-DIE-DIE! I’m surprised you’re not croaking like a dying frog.”

He ignored your comment. “You’re upset, what the hell happened?”

“Why do you care?” You shot back at him.

“Answer the fucking question, idiot, I’m not asking again.”

So now he wants to be a damn therapist?

“Hmph, fine.” You lifted the cover and reclined against the counter to make yourself comfortable. “My date was an asshole. Everything was fine at first, you know? He took me to this nice restaurant and we were hitting it off. Everything was perfect—the mood, the scenery, the food. Then one thing lead to another,” you lowered your chin, “and he kissed me…”

Distracted, you didn’t catch Bakugou’s fists clenching and his scowl growing deeper. “I didn’t ask for a recap of your crappy romantic date!”

“It’s important to the damn story!” You yelled at him, thrusting your spoon his way. “And you’re the one who asked! If I have to suffer through this date again, you’re suffering with me so buckle up, firecracker.”

Said firecracker seethed, but stayed quiet. You took it as sign to continue. “So anyway, he kissed me and next thing you know, some lady’s claws ripped me apart from him. They were actual claws by the way, like her nails were soooo long, I was surprised she didn’t scratch my face.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Apparently the guy used me to get his ex-girlfriend jealous so they can get back together,” you venomously spat out. “I gave that guy a Texas-smash slap and threw cold water at him. With ice cubes, for good measure too.”

A second later, you angrily stabbed the ice cream which took Bakugou by surprised. However, he quickly recovered and watched as you blindly attacked the delicious delicacy that was a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream pint.

“I felt so humiliated—”

Stab.

“—and used—“

Stab, stab.

“—and ugh!”

The spoon dropped. It clanked against the floor and you didn’t move for a moment. With flushed cheeks, you discarded the ice cream that was now a swirling mess. Slumping backwards, your back hit the kitchen drawers while you pinched the bridge of your nose. Tears dangerously emerged in your eyes, but you forced them to stay put. There was no way you were going to cry in front of him.

One hand weakly gestured towards Bakugou. You felt like a deflated balloon. “Go ahead, tell me that I’m just a dumbass with peasant problems.”

“Well you are a dumbass,” he started and you figured much. “But you’re a dumbass for moping over some garbage idiot like him.”

…what?

You didn’t expect that kind of response. Scrunching your eyebrows together, you gave him a ridiculous stare. Bakugou sighed loudly and slid his hand over his face as if he needed to spell out something so obvious.

“Look, you’re sulking over an asshole who never respected you,” he explained. Your ears carefully listened to every word. “Even though you stood up for yourself, you’re still letting that bastard win by acting all sad and shit.”

You stupidly blinked.

“Quit whining and realize he was never in your league in the first place,” he grunted as his crimson irises narrowed at you. “He’s not worth shedding tears over for, so don’t you dare start fucking crying.”

He left you speechless and you gawked at him.

Never in your life did you expect Bakugou to comfort someone…well, comfort anyone in general really. Did he give you a soft cuddle, patting your head saying everything was going to be okay? Hell no. Instead you got the Bakugou-version of it where he slapped some sense into your sorry-ass for moaning after some douche.

“I hate how right you areee,” you groaned dramatically into the air. Bakugou snorted at your reaction, but didn’t say anything else. Bringing your head down, you let out a soft chuckle and grinned at him. “I shouldn’t let that bastard make me feel so shitty. How dare he make me almost act out a cliche movie scene where I cry myself into an ice cream pint. The nerve of him…”

“Damn right.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but—” you inhaled for the melodramatic effect “—thank you, Bakugou, for your comforting, albeit unconventional, words.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered while looking away, hoping you didn’t catch the blush flaring up his cheeks. “Just as long as you stop stomping in here like a damn rhino.”

Your face briefly fell. “Ok, rude.”

He shot you a tiny smirk and the butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

Suddenly the floor became more interested and you remembered the mess you made. A curse flew out of your mouth as you snatched a paper towel to clean up the spot. After finding another spoon, you looked at your ice cream on the counter. It was slightly melted, but there was no way you were going to throw it away. In front of you was a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and you spent good money on this baby.

“So,” you tapped your finger on the pint and took one bite of your dessert. “I guess we’re done here.”

“Guess so,” he nonchalantly shrugged.

Very well then, you thought as you slowly walked towards the doorframe where Bakugou stood and paused. It took all your willpower not to shrink away considering how close you two were. Your eyes boldly stared into his and neither of you said a word. The room was so silent you prayed Bakugou couldn’t hear your heart throbbing loudly against your chest.

No. Not yet.

“Well,” you broke the silence and flashed him a playful smile. “At least I now know there is a nice troll under the bridge.”

Not missing a beat, you rushed out of the kitchen with a hearty laugh before Bakugou had a chance to blast your annoying face out of existence.

~~~

Fun fact: originally this story was not going to be published. It was sitting in my “Unreleased Cuts” folder for some time because I wasn’t feeling the plot’s direction. Left it alone, came back to it and fixed it up. 

And here we are! 

Thank you again for reading :)

[lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime]

Weasley Love: Part 8 - And in the end...

Chapter summary: the aftermath of a war is always hard. For all the Weasleys, the loss of Fred was too painful, but for George was much worse. But he wasn't alone and, even though he would never be the same, the wound scars bit by bit thanks to his family and (Y / N), the woman who he once protected from a bludger and she protected his heart from then, helping to build a path for them both filled with love.

> previous chapter   //   SERIES MASTERLIST

*****

(Y/N) took out the bottles from the box with care and put them on the shelf with the rest of them with a small smile. With a sigh, she looked around to the just cleaned shop that George and her were filling up again with the products. George hadn’t decided when to open the shop again, but in the last week, he wanted to make a start.

The last year hadn’t been easy on any of the family, but they all knew they had to keep going on, honoring Fred’s memory by keep living. George also knew that, but his process of mourning and accepting the sad reality, took a lot of time, tears and nightmares that the redhead suffered in the arms of the young woman who let him have his space and have his grieving without pressing him to move on. She knew he had to go through that process, as long as it would take.

George appeared from the back room of the shop carrying a box with him that he left on the counter. He wanted to do it all without magic, letting him enjoyed as he could that moment. (Y/N) observed him and approached slowly.

“What do you have there?” she asked softly sitting on the counter next to the box and peering inside.

The young man sighed and took one of the products with a sad smile “I think it was one of the last inventions of Fred…” she looked up at him surprised he hadn’t stuttered saying his name “I read the other night about it in his notebook. Although I don’t know if he ended it…”.

(Y/N) bit her lip and looked away trying to contain her emotions, as she had done a lot of times in front of George. He realized and took a step to the side, standing between her knees “hey…” he took her face and kissed her forehead “you don’t have to hide your tears for me, you also have to…” he cleared his throat “mourn him. I think you haven’t done it properly”.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing him to her so their torsos were touching and he wrapped his arms around her waist. Thanks to his height, she leaned her forehead on his with closed eyes “don’t worry”.

“But I do because you’ve been so attentive and caring of me, this broken man…”.

“Don’t you dare say you are broken” she interrupted him abruptly, pulling away her forehead with a frown “I’m not going to let you say and believe that. What you’ve lost, I can’t even begin to imagine what it is like, but you are not broken, George”.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and (Y/N) caressed his cheeks, kissing his forehead and nose. George sighed and squeezed her waist “but I’m afraid you’ve lost yourself a bit, so focused on me and my wellbeing. You’ve put your life on stop for me”.

“George, darling….”

“I love you” he interrupted her with a small smile “and I don’t think this emptiness will never completely go away” she smiled softly “but we both need to keep going on. I… I need to learn to get up and breath without hurting, smile and laugh without feeling bad about it or make love to you and truly enjoy it…”.

She sighed remembering the deep talk they had a few months back about their intimacy and how he confessed that he used it as a way to cope with the reality, a conversation that hurt but that it was necessary for them to keep their relationship healthy. The young woman nodded and leaned in to kiss him softly. He sighed against her lips and put one of his hands on the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. (Y/N) kissed back in kind, smiling slightly against his lips before pulling away.

“I’ve been looking for a job in the ministry, the teacher of the course before the war has helped me” he looked up at her “I have an interview in three days. I haven’t told you anything in case it didn’t work. So don’t keep worrying, okay?”.

“That’s great!” he smiled, truly, happy for her “I’m sure you will get the job”.

“Don’t get your hopes up and let’s see how it goes” she said caressing his cheek.

“We should celebrate it, maybe you could send an owl to your grandma and ask her if her invitation for dinner is still up? I know she’s been asking for two weeks”.

“Are you sure?”.

He nodded with a smile “I want to have dinner with your dad and grandma, it’s been a while since we have last seen them. And your family needs you too, you know?”.

The young woman looked at him with sweetness, caressing his cheek softly while whispering “I love you so much”.

He chuckled softly and took her hand, kissing the palm of her hand with tender.

*****

“Hey, Ron”.

The named redhead turned to see (Y/N) stepping into the already closed shop “hi, (Y/N)!”.

The young woman smiled at him and approached to kiss his cheek briefly “is everything okay? It’s early to have the shop closed, isn’t it?”.

“Well…” he laughed nervously and looking away “the reason is not bad, you should go up home. George is waiting for you there”.

She frowned looking suspicious at him, making him laugh. Ron and (Y/N) had gotten close since the youngest brother had started working in the shop with George a few months later after the reopening. He was enthusiastic and had good ideas for new products, but which she appreciates the most was his caring nature. His dynamic with Ron helped George to start his teasing and even pranks, although much softer on Ron than the ones he used to do.

“Come on, go up. I’m almost finish here and I’m going to pick up Hermione from work, she will be surprised”.

“And delighted” the young woman added with a small smile “thank you Ron, really” he shrugged and she chuckled giving him a small hug “see you tomorrow then”.

(Y/N) smiled once more and went to the stairs that directed to her home with George, missing the small whisper of Ron “see you in a week”.

When she stepped into the house, she found George smiling at her with two big trunks next to him. She smiled confused but approached him, receiving a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“And… I guess this is the reason why the shop has closed earlier than it usually does…”.

“Exactly. You and I are going to that little village in Italy your father and grandma have told us about so much”.

“Really?” she asked while her eyes widened with joy.

George nodded and wrapped his arms around her waist “Ron has accepted to take over the shop these days for us. I might give him holidays after it though” the young woman laughed and he smiled “so, I’ve prepared the luggage for the both of us and we have to take a portkey in an hour and a half”.

“I’m sure this have required a lot of planning, how you’ve done it? You’ve been really busy with the expansion of the shop…”.

The redhead shrugged “these last months have been… Good to be honest” he smiled “our jobs are doing amazing, we are doing really great and I’m feeling quite alright. It was just a matter of organization. I’ve already talked to your boss, by the way, so don’t worry”.

(Y/N) nodded appreciatively and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his lips softly “so… An hour and a half, I have time to take a shower and make sure you’ve taken all we need”.

He laughed and let her go to the bathroom with the brightest smile, excitedly for their trip.

Almost three hours later, the both of them were leaving their things in the wardrobe of the cosy and wonderful room they were going to stay in.

“This is so beautiful” she said sitting on the bed and looking around “and the owner was so nice! Can’t wait to explore tomorrow”.

George smiled at her and kneeled in front of her, taking her hands and kissing her fingers “are you happy?”.

She shook her head and pulled away her hands to take his face “I’m always happy when I’m with you. It doesn’t matter where. Or how. I just need you, as cheesy as it sounds”.

He licked his lips and leaned up to kiss her, pushing her softly until she was laying on the mattress with him above her body. When he pulled away, he cupped her jaw looking at her ardently “same here, love” (Y/N) took him back to kiss him again.

That night they made love slowly, softly, intimately, passionately. Their touches, their kisses, their whispers, their moans… They felt every little thing with intensity.

They stayed awake looking through the window to the beautiful town under them illuminated by the stars above. George hugged her from behind, their naked bodies covered by the sheet from the unmade bed. He sighed breathing deeply into her hair “love…” she made a sound of recognition before he turned her around to be face to face and kissed her nose softly “marry me”.

“I will” she answered in a blink of an eye. George smiled brightly and she chuckled kissing his cheek before looking right at his eyes “yes, I will marry you, George Weasley”.

The young man laughed and let the sheet to fall around them, taking her into his arms and kissing her, pushing her against the cold window that made her gasp into his lips. They both laughed softly and kissed slowly, looking at each other with goofy smiles, feeling their lives were taking a turn they were eager to explore together.

*****

“I’m home!” George yelled once he went through the main door.

But when he didn’t receive a response and, in its place, he heard sniffing, he ran towards the living toom where there was light. There he found his wife crying softly while going through an album of pictures.

The redhead sighed softly and leaned on the doorframe of the door, looking at the woman sobbing to herself. It wasn’t a strange situation for them lately, the pregnancy was doing weird things to her mood and the mood swings could go from crying to laugh to fell asleep in matter of minutes.

He analysed her with a smirk, her hair was into a dishevelled pony tail, one of his biggest t-shirts as a dress and her naked legs revealed her swollen ankles. And he couldn’t find her more beautiful. George left his suitcase on the coffee table and took her legs softly to sit on the sofa, putting them on her lap and massaging softly his aching feet.

“What are you looking at?” he asked softly.

(Y/N) looked above the album at him with red eyes “our wedding pictures”.

George chuckled “love, you get emotional even without being pregnant going through that album, why are you doing that to yourself?”.

“Because I found the bracelet your mom gave me for the day and I wanted to remember how happy and beautiful I was that day”.

“You are beautiful all days, darling”.

She rolled her eyes and covered her face with the album again “you say that because you have to, I’m your wife, but I’m a whale right now and I’m so bloated…”.

“Hey…” George left her legs and he leaned down to rest his head gently on her baby bump “you really are beautiful all days, I’m being honest here, and you have such a glow in the last months. Love, you are gorgeous”.

(Y/N) put away the album and left it on the coffee table with a small pout “why are you so incredible adorable?”.

The man chuckled and moved himself to lay next to her on the sofa, taking her in his arms before kissing her temple, her nose and lastly her lips. She sighed comfortably and snuggled to his side.

“How’s been your day?”.

“Great, Ron is going to come tomorrow for breakfast, he’s had an idea for a new product”.

“Oh! We might invite Hermione, I miss female company since I’m here because of the doctor orders”.

“You know is the best for the baby and yourself but don’t worry, I will write an owl to the couple about it”.

“Thank you” she mumbled kissing his jaw.

George looked at the album laying opened on the coffee table and chuckled, making her to look up at him with a questioning frown. He shook his head and caressed her cheek “I was remembering my mom, I think she cried during all the ceremony”.

(Y/N) laughed too and nodded “poor Molly, I don’t think she was ready for such an intimate ceremony”.

“If it had been her way, we would have had hundreds of guests. Good thing my father managed to convince her to let us do a small ceremony. Just with our closest families and friends, nothing to invite out of commitment” he rambled caressing her bump, receiving an answer from his son in the form of a small kick.

They smiled at each other and she put her hands over his, pressing it softly against her skin.

“Yeah, it was perfect” she whispered and kissed his lips slowly.

When they pulled away, George looked ahead of her with a melancholic look and she knew right away that Fred was present in his mind. She caressed his cheek taking him back to the reality and he smiled “he would have laughed at me so much that day, I couldn’t keep my eyes or hands off of you”.

The woman nodded with a small smile “he would have made fun of how smitten you were”.

“And still are, love” he kissed her forehead “and I can’t even imagine how this little one will have me wrapped around his finger”.

“Fred Jr. will be so lucky to have you as a father” she reassured with a bright smile.

In the moment they knew the baby was a boy, they didn’t need to discuss about names. It would be Fred, no question about it.

George sighed and hugged her to him, both kissing softly while feeling the baby kick against them, reclaiming attention even from the womb.

*****

George and (Y/N) were walking hand in hand through the streets of London after a meeting they both had just had with some investors from America who were interested in some Weasley products.

“What we should buy for Ginny?” the woman asked with a small frown.

“We sent her a bouquet of flowers as a congratulations”.

“I know, but you don’t win the Quidditch championship every day. I think we should buy a gift”.

“Well, we have all afternoon to think, Harry and her doesn’t arrived until tomorrow night”.

She nodded and sighed leaning her head on his shoulder. George looked down at her, knowing what she was thinking about. Since their two children were in Hogwarts, they had all their free time from work for themselves and the both of them felt quite strange by not having the kids running around, laughing with George’s laughed that filled the house with warmth.

The redhead smiled and kissed her temple, making her to look up and smiled back “I miss them”.

“Me too, love. But we know they are both doing great back at Hogwarts. Think how great our years were, theirs are going to be even better”.

I’m not sure if their years in school are going to be better than ours” George frowned and she stopped walking, taking his hands in hers with a bright smile “I found the love of my life. They might fall in love too but, nothing can compare what we two created there”.

“Aren’t you a romantic?” he chuckled wrapping one of his arms around her waist, his other hand going to her cheek.

Small wrinkles peeked out at the sides of the woman's eyes, a sign of all that she had smiled and laughed at despite their bad years. George smiled and kissed those wrinkles making her laugh, he used to do it often.

“Well, I have to be the romantic one from time to time, you can't take all the credit for that in this relationship”.

George laughed, his head tilting back slightly, and she couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. There was a time in the past when she was worried that he would never laugh like that again. They both knew that the wound of losing Fred would never heal, it was something she could not heal, but George had been able to find happiness again. Next to her. Along with their children.

“I love you so much” she whispered once he calmed down.

The man leaned in and kissed her lips before answering back “I love you too, so much, and to celebrate how romantic we are in our marriage, why don’t we eat out? We don’t have to open the shop for two another hours”.

(Y/N) giggled and nodded, the both of them walking again. They went back home to take some things before going to eat together. When they were in the street again, a couple of young men, likely recently graduated from Hogwarts, approached George to profess their admiration for his work. She observed a few steps aside, basking in the moment while George seemed delighted about that kind of attention.

“I’m so proud of you, George Weasley” she said once he went by her side again. He blushed with a small chuckle and she took his face between her hands, her fingers brushing slightly the place where his ear once was “you are an exceptional man”.

He kissed the inside of her wrist and caressed her hand over his cheek, both looking at each other with a kind of love that never faltered.

Life hadn’t been easy but they had each other, through everything. And they knew that what they had was special. A Gryffindor boy and a Hufflepuff girl who would never let go of the other’s hand.

Tag list: @the-romanian-is-bae​ @allaboutsml​ @girl22334​ @nikkipea​ 

Notes: Well, this is it. Again, sorry for the delay in this last chapter, but I really hope you all like the end of this story written with so much love. Thank you to all that had spent their time in reading it. Much love! xx

[pikemoreno]

if you ever wanna be in love

Chapter I: Coffee Cures All Ills

a/n: Here it is folks! The first part of a Marcus fic heavily inspired by the Netflix rom-com Set It Up. 

It’s more structurally and conceptually inspired and not an exact scene-for-scene remake because a) I was interested in the idea of this not even really being an AU. This is extremely canon-compliant and you’ll see more of that as we continue on. 😏And b) because I had lots of ideas that spun off from watching Set It Up that I just liked better for the purpose of this fic. So that’s what you can expect. It’s gonna be cheesy and fun and great.

The first couple of chapters are a lot of, well, set up (which has been infuriating). But we’ll get into the meat of it soon. My outline says so.

As a side note, a lot of the gifs I’m going to be using are from the movie, but these are not my face claims for any of the characters. I’m using them simply for the ~vibe~ of the chapter. Reader is not a small white girl... Or she might be. She is you. Or whatever OC you’d like her to be. Period. 

And that’s it. Let’s go, I guess.

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 2k (probably one of the shortest chapters we’re gonna see out of the 14-ish lolz)

warnings: none, and i don’t expect there to really be any serious ones in upcoming chapters either. this is just fun.

Marcus Pike never wanted to fall in love. 

He’d seen what it had done to him in failed relationships including everything up to a failed marriage. Some would argue that it wasn’t love then, that love doesn’t fail, so it couldn’t have been. But he disagreed. He knows it when it hits. It comes on you like lightning, bright and fast. You accept it, letting it run through your veins, and risk suffering a fatal blow to your heart. And it most definitely can fatally fail. It can cause joy and pain in equal measure. He’d already been struck so painfully once, the blow of the electricity going straight to his heart. He was beginning to hope to the high heavens that he wouldn’t be so unlucky as to be struck a second time, just in case it should reach his heart so painfully once more.

Marcus Pike never wanted to fall in love.

He felt that especially strongly as he watched Adrian go through his recent break-up. He felt for his fellow agent, he really did. Adrian was completely convinced Sam was the one, sold to the point of going ring shopping soon. But one brief mention of an engagement sent Sam running for the hills. He’d been moping around the office for a couple of weeks now and, as much as Marcus understood the pain, he was already really looking forward to Adrian’s rebound or some similar distraction. He was needing his friend’s signature fire back right about now, not to mention his focus. His work had gotten sloppy in this mourning period. He was constantly distracted. Marcus was dreading getting him on this case today, but maybe it was just the push he needed. He hoped. He stepped up to Adrian’s desk, watching the glazed over look in his eye.

“Hey, Adrian, do you mind getting a head start on this? I’d really like you to be our head man on--” he slid the file onto his desk, but was cut short by Adrian’s response. A response that had nothing to do with anything Marcus had just said.

“I’m gonna die alone,” he muttered, hands supporting his chin, elbows on his desk. Marcus let out an exasperated sigh that he didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re not gonna die alone,” he played along once again, rubbing his temple.

“Maybe I’ll go be a monk. They never have to worry about this shit.”

“An honorable profession.”

“Yeah.” Adrian blinked out of his dream-like state. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Marcus nodded rigidly. “Sorry, Pike.” He opened the file, nodding slowly, “Yeah, I’ll get on this.”

“You look exhausted,”

“I am,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“I’m making a break room run to get coffee, you want one?”

“Please.” Marcus nodded his understanding and made his way down the hall to the break room. He doubted a case and a coffee could get his friend back on track, but he could hope, right?

***

If you had to listen through one more of Wendy’s mood swings, you might just scream. You love the girl, you really do. She’s your friend and the best boss you could’ve asked for, but Lord Almighty, had she been in rare form. Some days she was perfectly fine, strutting around like she didn’t care that her asshole boyfriend Daniel gave her an ultimatum instead of a ring on their last anniversary. Other days would see her doing a complete 180, shutting herself in her office and weeping into suspect files. Your least favorite days, though, were days where the heartbreak made her angry, where thinking about Daniel saying “It’s me or your job” made her border-line vengeful. But, unfortunately for you and the rest of the team, he wasn’t around to take the beating.

You couldn’t say you entirely understood. The short catalog of even shorter flings that you boasted brought largely apathy rather than heartbreak. You couldn’t say you’d ever been in love like Wendy had been. You’d never felt anything quite that strong-- and thank goodness for that. It wasn’t something you particularly looked forward to, at least, not the way you’d seen it lately. It was an uncontrollable force, dangerous and all-consuming. You liked control, liked being in your right mind. If love was to take up it's unfortunate residence, you could only hope it was for someone worth losing your mind over. You hadn’t seen anyone of the sort so far. 

Unfortunately, it was already too late for Wendy Harrod. The already intimidating head of the Jewelry & Gem Theft Program in Texas was in rare form. You watched as an HR intern ran from her office in near tears. Poor Randy. Her sharp “come in” in response to your knock on her door made you wince.

“Harrod, I have the results of that house search you requested if you--”

“No, no! Absolutely not, I cannot handle this right now,” she was absolutely raging, leaving you grasping at straws for a response. 

“I-- Uh-- Of course. I’ll just leave it right here whenever--” you placed it gently on the end table by the door before being interrupted again.

“Ughhhhh,” she groaned out before flopping into her desk chair, the red leather creaking as she let sit spin her around once, “I’m sorry. I’m being mean.” There was your Wendy.

“Just a little.”

“Sorry, sorry. Bring that here please.” 

“What can I do for you? As your friend, I mean. You--” you weighed your words carefully as you hand her the report, “You haven’t quite been yourself since…” you stopped that thought, “Well, lately.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I need,” she began to skim the report before looking back up with you with a tight lipped smile, “Maybe a coffee? For the more immediate problems anyway.” You laughed.

“Now that I can do. I’m headed there now. Break room coffee ok?”

“That’d be perfect.”

“The usual?”

“The usual.” She yelled after you as you walk down the hall, “You’re an angel!”

She wasn’t gonna be saying that when you came back without coffee. 

The sign on the coffee pot reading “out of coffee” was going to seriously ruin your reputation and Wendy’s sensitive mood. You ran through the options: you couldn’t leave to get her a Starbucks; there were some bottled iced coffees in the fridge, but Wendy hated them; you could wait for someone to make a run at lunch and pass on the order, but this was too urgent. Then it hit you. Everyone knew the sixth floor had the better coffee stock anyway. The art freaks loved their fancy stuff. You could always just waltz down a floor and snag two cups from their stash. 5 minutes in and out. No harm done, no questions asked. 

Or so you thought. 

The sixth floor break room was already occupied when you walked in, finding another agent also brewing a morning cup in a single cup coffee maker. 

They really did have everything here: multiple pots, another much fancier looking machine that looked like it might come to life and attack at any moment, recyclable coffee cups, every type of creamer. You name it.

You’d have to sneak over here more often.

You stepped up to the larger coffee pot, rinsing out the carafe before reaching for the container of grounds. Empty. 

They had everything here. Except coffee. 

Was the whole damn building in a coffee famine? You didn’t have time to check.

“No, no, no, no,” you panicked, frantically searching the cabinet for another container. In your peripheral you could see the other agent look at you like you’d grown two heads. You couldn’t be bothered with his judgement, but you met his eyes to ask, maybe a little too frantically. 

“Is that the last of it?” you questioned, eyeing the cup he was brewing.

“Well, yeah, sorry.” It was obvious he meant it, but apologies were not what you were needing right now.

“Shit.” 

“Withdrawals?” he laughed a little at your panicked state, but it wasn’t demeaning. He was genuinely amused, and maybe a little concerned, but it made you narrow your eyes at him all the same. You were not in the mood for the mocking, no matter how light-hearted it may be. No matter how much it was softened by the bright smile next to you.

“It’s not for me. It’s for my boss. My very upset boss who needs just one small ounce of joy in her life right now. The kind of joy that can only come from the fueling of her caffeine addiction, so if I could please just have that cup?” You blinked at him innocently, but his dark brown eyes widened as he shook his head

“What? No. I have a friend who needs this. If I don’t bring him this, he won’t be working for the rest of the day.”

“If I don’t bring my boss a cup of coffee in the next two minutes, I will probably not be working again. Ever. I will be dead. Do you want to be complicit in a murder, Agent--” you glanced at his badge, “Pike? Can you really live with that?”

“You’re awfully dramatic aren’t you?”

“I wish it was an exaggeration.” He inspected your badge then too.

“Jewelry and Gem Theft. Floor 7, right? What brings you down here to steal our coffee?” The argument was pointed, but his demeanor was anything but. He was smiling, enjoying this. A little too much, you seethed. You couldn’t stand around arguing all day.

“We’re out too.”

“Try another floor?”

“Time is of the essence here, Art Squad.” There was no room for addressing him politely now, he was riling you up on purpose. 

“If you didn’t stand here arguing with me you could’ve tried another floor by now, Jewels.”

He must think he’s so clever.

“Please. This is DEFCON 5.”

“You do know DEFCON 5 is the good one, right?”

“You know what I mean. Please.” He looked at you and then the newly brewed cup, biting the inside of his cheek, thinking through the problem.

“Tell you what. I am willing to split this if you are. Maybe it’s enough to fix both of them.” The crease between his eyebrows was deep as he studied your face, “I know Adrian is too out of it to notice he’s getting jipped, not sure about your boss.” You shrugged.

“Wendy will manage. It’s enough to keep her from throwing something at my head next time I walk in.” He dutifully split the coffee between two of the recyclable travel cups and handed one to you. You took it gratefully. 

“I hope this keeps you from… Dying? What’s up with that anyway?” You’re not sure what made this person that was essentially a stranger so interested in your life, but something about it feels nice.

“She had a really bad breakup: anniversary, thought it was going to be a proposal, instead it was him being a piss-baby. She’s a little all over the place right now. They’d been together for years and now there’s just… A hole. She doesn’t know how to deal with it.” Pike’s nod in response is emphatic, giving the cup in his hand a little wave.

“Same with him. Terrible breakup. He didn’t see it coming at all. She broke up with him on a voicemail… Then moved. ‘Course it just put him in this crazy funk, though. Doesn’t wanna work or do much of anything. No violence. Yet. But it’s sad to see.” You winced.

“That’s a rough one. Best of luck with him, Art Squad. Thank you. I owe you one. Seriously.”

“You definitely do, Jewels.” His smile is blindingly bright as he jokes. It makes you smile back.

“See you around.”

series taglist: @whiskeyslasso​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​

forever tags: @acomplicatedprofession​ @hdlynn​ @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales​ @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ @princessbatears​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives​

[rainbowshawn]

Pure Devotion

A/N: I got lots of requests for fluff with some angst so this is what I came up with. Not sure it counts as true angst but I gave it a shot. This is entirely me projecting my issues into a fic after a rough couple of weeks so hopefully y’all like it!! Comfort!Shawn is my fav

Summary: Things have been hard for you lately and Shawn knows just how to comfort you. 

Warnings: Language, detailed experience of an anxiety attack, angst I guess? Laced with a ton of fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

It was no secret that life had been really hard for you lately. It felt like anything that could go wrong, did and the stress had started to eat you alive. As things pile up, your mental health goes down and quite frankly- you’re just fucking exhausted.

You’re a chronic bottler, though. It’s very rare that you ever unload your baggage by talking about it because usually, you’re too busy helping everyone else. You’ve always been strong but somehow being strong is one of your weaknesses.

Today had been especially hard. Not particularly for any reason; just little things all day. But your tolerance had been fizzling out for weeks as the stress added up and now you’ve found yourself spiraling. Anxiety was eating at your mind and you couldn’t find any way to make the thoughts stop. Your mind is moving at such a fast pace, you can’t even think straight anymore. You’ve tried everything; music, meditation, deep breathing, and even a short run. Nothing seems to ease your mind.

Now you’re laid on the couch; feeling overwhelmed and empty at the same time. There’s only so much you can take; you know that. But stripping your walls down felt nearly impossible. You would rather suffer in silence than burden others with your problems. It’s only a matter of time until it catches up to you though.

Everything feels exceptionally heavy today and you know it’s only a matter of moments before you break. But you decide to grin and bear it when you hear the front door closing shut behind Shawn. You blink back the tears pooling behind your eyelids and take a deep breath as he toes off his shoes by the door.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says in his incredibly soothing voice, walking over to the loveseat where he haphazardly drops his backpack and guitar case.

“Hi, baby,” you murmur in response, “how was your day?”

You busy yourself by pulling your hair out of the ponytail you had it tied up in; avoiding his gaze. Luckily, he doesn’t take notice, giving you extra time to pull it together.

“Goooood,” he draws, smiling down at you as he approaches the couch, flopping down next to you. “Got lots done at the studio. I’m so excited for my muse to hear all the songs about her,”

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him to press a sloppy kiss to your forehead before moving to press a kiss to your lips. He watches a small smile break across your lips but it feels oddly wrong to him. It doesn’t meet your eyes. Those beautiful glowing eyes.

“I’m excited to hear,” you chirp, rubbing his thigh.

You can tell by the way he’s squinting that he’s onto you and your anxiety grows tenfold. You can tell he's in a good mood and the last thing you want is to take it from him by dumping your problems on him. Before he can even pitch out a question about your day, you’re halfway across the room; waltzing towards the stairs.

“M’gonna go take a nap,” you say, glancing back towards the confused boy on the couch, “My head is killing me.”

“O-okay. Can I do anything to help you?” he asks, shooting you sympathetic eyes.

“Nah, thank you though,” you shake your head, turning back towards the stairs, “Just need some quiet I think,”

He nods slowly behind you, still squinting a bit at the slight wobble in your voice. He watches you bound up the stairs and he wonders if something else is going on in that head of yours. It’s not like you to be so quiet. So short with him.  And that damn smile. Something just wasn’t right about it. But ultimately after a few moments he supposes it must be your head. After all, it was true that you frequently got headaches. So he decides you just need some space to sleep for a bit and then everything would be okay. At least he hoped.

Once you reach the dimly lit room, you swing the door shut and climb into the plushy bed. The lump in your throat feels like barbed wire and tears prick at your eyes. You know you’re about to break and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You take a deep breath before pulling the covers over your shaking figure and nuzzling into Shawn’s pillow, breathing in his comforting scent as your emotions begin to pour over.

Your body shakes as quiet sobs start to roll out of your body. Pain courses through your veins and it feels like there isn’t enough air in this entire world anymore. You do your best to keep quiet but sniffles and choked sobs escape you every so often. You do your best to take deep breaths but it feels like absolutely nothing in the world can help you anymore.

The sound of the bedroom door opening moments later makes you wince, burying your face further in Shawn’s pillow.

“Babe, I found your pain meds in the cabinet do you-“ he blurts out before stopping in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

Your eyes are bright red, soaking your cheeks in hot tears. His eyes widen at the sight of you, clutching onto his pillow for dear life and breaking down right in front of him. Your breathing is jagged as you gasp for air and choke out pained sobs. He swears he feels his heart break in his chest and its only a second later that he’s bounding towards the bed you’re laid out on.

“Honey, what’s going on?” he says, climbing onto the bed where he sits next to your aching body. You’re laid on your side with your back facing him and you hope to god he can’t see your face. Your heart thrums in your chest at the sheer embarrassment you’re feeling. This was the last thing you wanted him to see.

“It’s nothing, Shawn,” you try to whisper, burying your face into his pillow in a lousy attempt to reassure him.

“Y/n,” he pleads, brushing your hair behind your ear, “Something that’s making you cry like this isn’t nothing,”

“I’m okay Shawny,” you whine, choking on another sob.

He sighs, looking down at you hopelessly. A lump grows in his throat as he watches you cry. He’s felt an off energy from you for weeks and he knows you’ve had a lot on your plate. Socially, professionally, and personally. It would overwhelm anyone.

“No you’re not,” he insists, reaching to swipe his thumb across your tear-soaked cheek, “Come here, baby. Let me help you.”

You lay just lay there, trying to find the strength to let your guard down. Trying to find the courage to let it all go. You hated putting all this pain on him.

After a moment, you reluctantly sit up, hesitating briefly as you try to suck in a deep breath before turning around and slowly leaning into his embrace. His warmth envelops you immediately, wrapping you in a shield of comfort as his strong arms pull you into his lap. His presence is where you feel safest and somehow that thought makes you cry even more.

Your body shakes with sobs; ebbing and flowing with uneven breaths. Shawn’s heart aches deep in his chest and he feels the familiar sting of tears behind his eyelids. Your pain is palpable, radiating off of you uncontrollably. Your legs are straddling his hips and his face smothers into the crook of your neck as you rest your head on his shoulder.

His breath fans across your cold skin as he presses kisses to your shoulders. You feel his hands rubbing up and down your sides comfortingly as he slowly rocks you back and forth.

“Shh, baby you have to take a deep breath,” he whispers soothingly, “Can you do that for me?”

“I-I can’t breathe, Shawny,” you stutter, tears still flooding down your flushed cheeks.

He pulls back from you, shifting to brush your tangled hair back from your soaked face. His eyes are drowning in sympathy as he watches your panic and he wishes he could just take it all away. Take all your pain as his own so you would never have to feel like this again.

“Remember grounding, lovey? I need you to do that with me, okay?” he says softly - as if he was afraid the sound of his voice would worsen your state. You give him a frantic nod, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Need you to tell me five things you can see,” he says, still rubbing your sides soothingly.

You take a shaky breath, blinking more hot tears out of your eyes. You gulp and squeeze your eyes shut momentarily before opening them again.

“Umm, I see you,” you whimper, feeling overwhelmed.

“Mhm,”

“I see the lamp... the candle... the um, the blankets,” you stutter out, trying your best to focus on the task he gave you, “I see the floor.”

“Good, good, sweetheart,” he praises, petting your hair softly, “Now tell me four things you can feel,”

Your senses shift, zoning in on his touch. His hands take turns sweeping through your hair and trickling down your back. “I feel your hands,”

He smiles softly, waiting for you to continue.

“I feel my body on top of yours,” you whisper as you feel the backs of your thighs press against his lap, “I feel my sweatshirt.”

“Mhm, good. One more?”

“Umm,” you huff, feeling a bit frazzled as you struggle to find something else. He notices your struggle and his large hand grabs yours, tugging it to his chocolate curls.

“Feel my hair?” he prompts, aiding you in fishing the task. You nod, still sniffling as cries left your aching body.

“What can you hear? Three things, babe. You’re doing so good.”

“I hear your voice,” you croak, smiling incredibly weakly; realizing just how comforting the sound of his voice is. “I hear the fan. And the birds.”

He hums, kissing your hand that isn’t slotted in his hair.

“Gimme two things you can smell?”

You breathe deeply for what feels like the first time in forever, trying your best to find something in the familiar air.

“I smell your cologne... you. My shampoo,” you shrug, feeling underwhelmed with your answers. He chuckles a bit at your demeanor.

“Last ones kinda tricky but one thing you can taste?” he raises his eyebrows, hoping you could come up with something since he was at a loss at the moment and he didn’t want to make you trudge into the kitchen to find something.

“I-I don’t know,” you whimper, bottom lip quivering again.

The minuscule movement sparks an idea for him and he pops up at the thought.

“Kiss me, honey.”

You quirk your eyebrow, shooting him a confused look as you wipe tears from your face. You go with it though, pressing your quivering lips to his. The kiss is slow, saturated in tender love. It doesn’t demand anything from you; just serves as a reminder of his undying love for you.

“Taste me?” he whispers against your lips. You hum into him. He kisses you for a second longer before resting his forehead against yours. “Did so good, lovey. Think we can take some deep breaths now?”

You don’t realize until now that your breathing has started to even out. Your limbs are still tingling and your mind still races but by some miracle - you’re breathing.

Grounding was something he had taught to you months ago when he found you crying on the bathroom floor amid another panic attack. The sight sent chills down his spine and he vowed from that day that he would never ever let you feel that way if he could help it. Seeing you in the same state today broke his heart on another level and somewhere deep in his soul, he feels as though he’s failed you.

“Y-yeah, I think so,” you say, huffing in ragged breaths.

“Okay, dear. Follow my lead, yeah?”

With tear flooded eyes you watch as he fills his lungs with air, puffing his chest out dramatically to keep you in time with him. You follow his movements, sucking in as deep of a breath as you can and holding it for a few moments until you feel your heartbeat slowing in your chest. He smiles softly as the two of you sigh the breath back out, into the still air of your shared room.

“Good, good,” he praises, reaching up to swipe some stray tears from your face, “Keep going.”

You continue on for a while, breathing deeply with him as you search for solace in his amber eyes. They’re softer, more sympathetic than usual and part of you hates it. It reminds you that this is hard on him as well. Your emotions shouldn’t be his issue too- at least that’s what you’ve convinced yourself.

After your breathing returns to a semi-normal rate, the unbearable wave of exhaustion hits you and you find yourself wrapping your arms around him, burying your warm face into his neck. His fingers ghost up your spine, leaving nothing but love in their wake. Goosebumps riddle your skin as the feeling returns to your tired limbs and you sigh lightly into his skin.

“What’s going on, honey? M’so worried about you,” Shawn croaks after a while, breaking through the quiet moment.

You hesitate, still sorting through your thoughts. Images of the past month or so swipe through your mind and you have to remind yourself to blink them away before it became too much again.

“It’s everything, Shawny,” you whimper, beginning to sniffle again, “and I’m just fucking exhausted.”

He gulps when hears your voice break once again. As if your vocal cords were being weighed down by pain. His hands shake as they trail down your sides; completely in tune with your emotions. It was a blessing and a curse to be so in sync with each other. To be connected at your cores. But he takes a deep breath, reminding himself that you need him. He needs to be strong for you.

“I know, baby, shh,” he soothes, seeing tears leak down your face once more, “don’t cry, baby, I hate seeing you cry.”

Warm kisses are stamped onto your forehead softly by his soft lips and you feel him slowly sway your distressed body. Your nose nuzzles into his pulse point, inhaling his warm scent. You stay silent for a moment, hoping and praying your body wouldn’t betray you and send you into another panic.

“Work has just been so stressful, my family life is in shambles, my friends barely talk to me anymore, and now it feels like the world is fucking ending,” you rant, voice wobbling uncontrollably, “it’s just fucking everything. I feel so alone,”

“You aren’t alone, my love. You are never, ever alone. Not as long as I’m around. I’ll be there for you until my last dying breath, you know that right?”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding quickly as you lift your head up and wipe your face, “I just don’t like putting all this on you. I know how you carry it all.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Your pain is mine and mine is yours. That’s just how we are. And I love that about us,” he starts, brushing your hair behind your ears before continuing once he knows he has your attention, “You can’t bottle things up, lovey. You can try to hide it all you want but you know I feel it. Like some Long Island Medium psychic shit,”

He shoots you a smart ass look and you actually crack a smile. A real smile. The smile that could knock the world off its axis and stop people in their tracks. The smile that could make his heart skip and burst at the same time. The smile he loved more than anything.

“There’s my girl,” he smiles back, leaning in to ghost his lips across your soaked cheek. You groan and hide your face in his shoulder again before his fingers tap your chin, pulling your attention back to him.

“Listen, I know I can't fix or change what you’re going through,” he starts, staring into your eyes, “and I know that it’s a lot. It would be too much for anyone to deal with. But that’s just a testament to how resilient you are, hm? God, if I were in your shoes I would’ve had a nervous breakdown months ago,”

You blush at his words, heart thumping with adoration for the boy holding you.

“I can't make it all stop as much as I wish I could. I would take all this pain from you in a heartbeat if God gave me that chance. Feel it all so you wouldn’t have to,”

“Shawn-“

“I’m serious, baby,” he insists, “I would. But I can’t. But what I can do is be there for you. Be your support. Your shoulder to cry on. That’s what I’m supposed to do,”

“But you have your own things, I don’t want to-“ you interject before he stops you with a long finger pressed against your lips.

“Ah ah ah- no buts!” he cuts in, “I’m your lover. That’s what I do. You wouldn’t hesitate to be there for me, hm? You’re always there when I need you, so let me do the same,”

His eyes search yours, noticing every ounce of pain hidden deep behind your eyelids. Your forehead leans into him, nose resting against the tip of his and you breathe him in while he whispers to you.

“I’ll be damned if I ever let you feel like you’re alone in this world. That’s my job- making you feel loved and attended to. Always. You’re my whole heart, baby. You don’t know how lovely you are,”

A single tear escapes your eye as his words hit you. Shawn’s a beacon of love and light. Your shelter from the storm and nothing he has ever done has made you feel like he didn’t love you. It was just your stupid mind; a master manipulator of convincing you that your problems were a burden to everyone around you. Your mind forces you to push his comfort away when you need him the most.

“I know it doesn’t help much but I’m here. I’m with you. You’re my person, remember?” he whispers into the quiet air, hoping that his words could alleviate your pain somehow, “You’re not alone in this,”

“It does help. Thank you,” you whisper weakly; sniffling air through your stuffy nose. “I love you so much. I’m sorry I’m like this,”

“Don’t apologize, baby. There’s no reason to. Just remember you don’t have to carry it all by yourself, okay? I cant help you when you don’t talk to me about it,”

His face drops to your shoulder, littering the skin with loving kisses. Stamping you with little pecks as he moves up your neck and eventually, your cheeks. You nod in response and close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his lips.

“You’re sad and you’re scared. And that’s okay. But things will get better. I promise you that,” he whispers, popping his head up to meet your gaze. You smile softly, glancing down at his pink lips. He wastes no time in connecting them with yours, hoping you could feel his love through the kiss.

You sigh into his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while his hands trail up and down your spine before resting at your waist. The kiss isn’t demanding; no underlying motive other than to remind you of his pure devotion to you. His lips are soft against yours and his arms take purchase around your waist, holding onto you tightly. Reminding you that he’s here.

You break away breathlessly after a few minutes of lazily loving on each other, just gazing into his honey pot eyes. He smiles up at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes, turning over some ideas in his head.

“Until then, it’s my job to keep you stress-free, hm?” he prompts, pecking your lips again, “How does taking a nice long bath with me sound? I’ll get your favorite bubbles and your favorite candles set up for you,”

You beam down at him, eyes squinting more than usual from the slight swell your crying had brought to your eyes. “That sounds lovely, Shawn,”

He hums, kissing you again and again, “And remember that bath bomb I got for you a couple weeks ago when Aaliyah dragged me into lush? M’thinkin we could use that.”

“Oooo the rainbow one?!” you smile, remembering the night he had come home with bags full of soaps and lotions insisting that ‘everything in that damn store reminded me of you,’

“Mhm,” he nods quickly, even more excited than you, although he would never admit it. “Nothin' but the best for my lovey. We can even watch Tangled again if you want. I know how much you love it,”

You take a moment, nearly cooing down at the soft boy slotted between your legs as he lays his plan out in front of you. You know he would do anything to make you feel better and your heart that was just aching in pain is now saturated with love for him.

“I love you so much. Thank you for being you. I’d be lost without you.” you whisper as you rub his strong chest, feeling the need to remind him that he’s your safe space and not a second goes by that you don’t appreciate him.

“I love you too. More than you know,” he hums, kissing your warm lips, “Now let’s get in that bath.”

You don’t expect his next movement, standing up quicker than you can blink and tossing you over his sturdy shoulder with ease. You giggle wildly as you smack his back, blood rushing to your head as he trudges to the bathroom. The sound is like music to his ears and he decides right in that moment that it’s all he wants to hear for the rest of his days.