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januaryembrs · 7 months ago

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YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted.

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck.

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin.

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again.

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest.

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him.

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene.

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been.

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men.

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to.

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions.

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,”

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently.

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face.

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet.

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry.

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.”

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage.

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,”

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him.

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them.

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob.

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand.

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter.

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights.

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible.

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was.

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed.

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands.

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,”

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip.

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in.

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years.

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe.

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe.

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second.

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing.

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late.

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them.

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed.

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new.

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them.

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them.

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently.

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands.

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt.

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building.

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him.

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use.

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard.

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign.

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?”

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,”

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes.

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested.

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again.

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible.

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything).

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright.

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet.

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance.

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,”

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,”

“I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing.

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin.

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down.

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?”

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised.

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point.

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

“Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,”

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion.

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise.

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off.

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him.

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,”

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again.

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his.

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,”

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all.

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him.

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #Post Prison!Spencer Reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

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sserpente · 8 months ago

Text

After

Synopsis: You help Astarion wash off the blood after he kills Cazador. He doesn’t say much��but you can tell he needs you now more than ever.

A/N: I thought of this the other day and I almost cried. So I wrote it so that you can almost cry as well.

Words: 897

Warnings: trauma responses, fluff

Astarion was being unusually quiet, his movements robotic and too automatic as if he was somewhere else entirely in his mind. And he was. You couldn’t blame him. He had his own demons to deal with after what you had just witnessed.

His hand was still clutching the dagger so tightly his knuckles turned white. But not even the blood stains on his bare skin could manage to disfigure him. He was as beautiful as ever despite the streams of tears drying on his cheeks.

You’d wrapped your cloak around him after he announced he wanted to get out of there, eager to respect his wish. There was nothing left for him here. It was over. Now all he had to do was to heal, slowly, from the trauma the past two hundred years had caused him.

Both Shadowheart and Gale had offered to help calm him down with magic but Astarion had been quick to decline. It was dark outside by the time you left the palace—a welcome circumstance. Though it was not uncommon for citizens to roam the city drenched in blood every now and then, you were certain Astarion was grateful for the absence of curious and suspicious looks as you made your way back to the Elfsong Tavern.

It wasn’t just Cazador’s death of course. He’d turned it all down. The ability to walk in the sun, the powers Ascension would have granted him… Now he’d return to the shadows. But he wouldn’t do it alone, that you were going to make sure of. He had you.

He was still silent by the time you returned to your room upstairs. Whoever had decided to stay behind today—Lae’zel, Wyll, Jaheira, Halsin and Minsc—their eyes all went wide the moment they laid their eyes on the blood-drenched vampire spawn.

The questions were burning on their tongues, you could tell. But they held back. You cleared your throat.

“Would you guys mind… leaving us for a bit? Join the others downstairs for a drink maybe?”

“Understood,” Jaheira said. She waved her hand and nodded, compassion glistening in her wise eyes. “Take your time.”

“Astarion…” Minsc pushed Jaheira out of the way, earning him a groan. “Is… is Cazador dead?”

“Yes, he’s dead, Minsc,” you answered for him. Jaheira grabbed his arm and dragged him along with her before he could say something else. Wyll, Lae’zel and Halsin followed suit.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the latter announced. A few heartbeats later, you were alone.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love.” Your voice was barely a whisper but Astarion heard you nonetheless. He nodded and finally allowed you to peel the dagger from his grasp. You set it aside on a table and lead him to the washtub in the corner of the room.

The cloak slipped from his shoulders, sailing to the wooden floor. He made no move to pick it up, no move to help you as you filled the tub with warm water. In fact, you weren’t sure he even saw you do it. But when you moved away to get him a fresh towel for later, you heard him.

“Don’t leave,” he said softly. Your eyes darted back to him, taking in the vulnerability and helplessness surrounding him like cold mist.

“I won’t. Ever. I was just gonna get you a towel.”

“Don’t leave,” he repeated.

The chest with your things was just around the corner, still, you opted against it. You forced the corners of your lips up and nodded, returning back to his side.

He didn’t protest when you removed his bloodied trousers and had him step out of them, didn’t resist when you made him climb into the tub and eventually, undressed yourself and reached for a sponge and soap before joining him.

Silence filled the room, water dripping as you dunked the sponge in. His sigh the moment it touched his cool skin was heartbreaking.

Inch by inch, you washed off the blood, pressing feather-light kisses to his chest and his face every now and then. Once you were done and the very last traces of Cazador had vanished, you cupped his cheeks, gently forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

Astarion nodded. “I just need…time.” To process. To decompress, to let everything that happened today sink in.

You nodded. “I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, Astarion. I am so proud of you. What you did today…that was the bravest thing I have ever witnessed. You didn’t have to do it and it wouldn’t have made you any less brave if you hadn’t faced him. But you did. I love you. And I will do anything in my power to help you through this, whatever you might need.”

The vampire smiled—it was a weak smile, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes. But it was sincere nonetheless.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you.”

You remained in the bath until the water was cold. After tiptoeing over to the clothing chest naked to finally retrieve the towels to dry off, you cuddled up in bed together, your limbs entangled and his face pressed against your neck. His breath evened surprisingly fast as he slipped into trance and you too closed your eyes, holding on to him tightly until you were certain he had found peace for tonight.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion imagine #astarion fluff #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin x tav #astarion ancunin x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 imagine #bg3 #bg3 imagine #neil newbon

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accio-sriracha · 2 months ago

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The Water Is Fine

A Jegulus Oneshot

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

"Come in, the water is fine!" James called to Regulus, his eyes holding a challenge.

Regulus watched him with amusement from the shade of a nearby tree. He didn't swim, this was a fact they all knew well. James, however, didn't seem to care, inviting him for the third time that evening to join them in the lake.

Regulus watched his brother's concerned expression as he swam over to James,

"Mate, you know he doesn't get in the water." He said, "What's the point in trying?"

James brushed him off, his eyes never leaving the boy resting beneath the tree,

"Sure he does." He said it loud enough for Regulus to hear, "He'll get in eventually."

"You're really going to do this right now?" Regulus called back.

He had to admit, he was a little impressed by James' persistence. James shrugged,

"It's as good a time as ever, isn't it?"

Regulus knew the words had double meaning for them, but pretended not to notice as he sighed and stood up, marking his place in his book.

The rest of their groups were there as well. Mary, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas were having a chicken fight off to the left. Alice, Frank, and Pandora were diving to collect things on the lake's floor. Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus had previosuly been playing catch with a quaffle, before James turned his attention to Regulus instead.

Barty and Evan were... well, we probably should focus too much on them.

They all turned in suprise as Regulus stepped out of his shoes, resignation written on his face, and walked towards the water's edge.

"There he is!" James called grandly, holding his arms out, "The man of the hour! Come join us, the water's nice and warm!"

If they hadn't been shocked before, they definitley were now as Regulus actually stepped into lake.

"Will you shut up already?" Regulus hissed at him, "It's fucking cold, you liar!"

He continued to mutter under his breath as he made his way to James, "Always fucking pissing me off- Never have one good day with my books, can I-"

James waved him off, "Stop whining, you'll get used to it."

"Regulus what are you doing?" Sirius was openly staring at him in shock. Regulus didn't spare him a glance, too focused on where to place his feet,

"Coming over to kill your best friend, that's what I'm doing." He gasped when a place in the water was particularly freezing.

He didn't like the feeling of everyone's eyes on him, since they suddenly decided he was more exciting than whatever it was they were doing before.

He rolled his eyes. He was in the water, so what? Just because none of them had ever seen him step foot in the lake before doesn't mean it was that big of a deal.

"I thought you didn't swim-" Sirius started again, dumbstruck.

"He doesn't." James' smile was bright, the kind of all-consuming smile that made you forget the rest of the world existed.

As Regulus got to waist high waters the familiar trickles of fear started to kick in.

Sirius had a right to be surprised, nothing scared Regulus more than this feeling.

He was toeing the ridge he had been looking for, where safe standing water met the expansive depths underneath. A drop off so sudden he was surprised nobody had died in it yet.

But as he looked up, his heart slowed. He trusted James. James would make sure he was okay.

He watched as James nodded reassuringly, his breathtaking smile easing Regulus' nerves. Regulus nodded back, reminding himself again that James would keep him safe.

So, much to the panic of everyone else, he turned around, leaned back... and fell.

Right off of the ledge and into the drop off. Water splashed up around him. He sunk five- ten feet and falling fast.

Above the waves there were shouts, his friends pushing through the water to save him because, obviously, Regulus couldn't swim.

James, Sirius, Barty, and Mary were the stronger swimmers of the group, the latter three racing against the current to get to him.

But Regulus wasn't waiting for any of them.

In seconds there was a body pressed against his own. Warm hands against smooth skin, the zooming rush of water around them.

Yes, there he was.

James held him against his chest, using magic to propell them quickly through the water. Regulus could never get enough of this feeling, like he was flying.

As they burst up to the surface of the water again he could just barely make out the gasps from their friends.

They flew through the waves, Regulus' hands looked pale against James' tanned back from where he clutched James close.

And they were quite a sight to see, bright smiles and Regulus' shrieks of laughter, James weaved them this way and that, sometimes twirling them up into the air before dropping them back down.

It was a bit of water bending magic James had learned to keep Regulus safe when he was trying to teach him how to swim a few months ago, a deal they'd made in private to save Regulus the embarrassment.

Eventually, when Regulus' fears had proven too great, they'd given up on learning and starting using magic to push them across the waves instead. He and James had come here all the time since then, getting faster and faster at it, James continuing to try out new tricks.

James kept his hands wrapped tightly around Regulus' waist, his own laugh was wild and free.

Regulus leaned happily into James, he could feel James' heart thump rhythmically against his chest.

James rolled them over so Regulus was on his back when he stopped the spell. Regulus gripped James' shoulders tightly, as he always did when James swam them back to the safety of the shore.

This was where James had developed the habit of calling Regulus his starfish, because he held fast onto him when James was swimming; like a starfish to a rock.

Regulus remembered the first time he'd said it, when he'd lectured James for making fun of someone with such a large fear. It turned out to grow on Regulus, and now he could only find the name endearing.

"Show off." Regulus called over the sound of the water, leaning back so he could feel the breeze on his face.

James looked back at him, eyes shining, "Only for you." He smiled.

They made it back to a level Regulus could stand in and James carefully dropped him off, holding him steady until he was sure Regulus was okay.

Sirius stormed over to them, hitting James' arm repeatedly,

"Never. Scare. Me. Like. That. Again." He said, each word punctuated by a punch, "You could have hurt him! What if he'd drowned, Prongs? What then?"

James threw back his head in a laugh, moving to hide behind Regulus,

"I didn't do anything!" He protested. Dodging his next few attempts to attack.

Barty made it to them next, glaring at Regulus,

"I thought you were fucking dying you arsehole!" He shouted, "I had to leave Evan to save you! Do you know how hard that is?"

"Oh the horror. You had to stop making out for three whole seconds." Regulus teased.

"What the hell was that?" Evan demanded as well, looking between James and Regulus as he trudged through the water to the four of them, "I've never seen anything like that before."

James and Regulus shared a look. James cleared his throat,

"We've had some practice." He started slowly, "It's a thing we've been working on-"

"Wait, you've gotten in the water before?" Marlene asked, amazed, as the rest of the group appeared.

"Just a few times." Regulus told them.

"More like every weekend." James snorted, as always beginning to speak before he could think, "You practically begged me last time-"

Regulus cut him off with a threatening look.

Sirius was staring like he was seeing a ghost. Regulus could imagine why, he probably wasn't used to seeing Regulus like this, usually so cut throat and intense, suddenly laughing and beaming and clinging to Sirius' best friend of all people.

"I didn't even know you guys were close." Lily frowned, confused.

Regulus bit back a smile, glancing at James as also he tried and failed to control his expression. The light reflecting off the water made him look even more beautiful.

James wrapped an arm around Regulus' shoulders, "You could say that."

Regulus rolled his eyes again, "Prick." He hissed under his breath. James shot him a flashy grin.

Finally, it seemed to click.

"Holy shit." Barty took a step back, "Evan, they're-"

"I know, B."

"They're-"

"You don't have to say it, B."

"Evan, they're fucking each other!"

Evan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I thought I just told you not to say it?"

"You're together?" Peter called incredolously. James smiled, turning Regulus to face him fully. Regulus knew what was happening even before Jamesx eyes dropped to his lips,

"Jamie, no-" Regulus started, even though he was already melting against his touch.

"Jamie, yes." James replied, all smug smiles and firm hands as he pulled Regulus into a kiss, right there in front of everyone.

Regulus broke, leaning his forehead against his chest when they pulled away.

He'd never felt guilt and relief so simultaniously. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders just to remind him of all he'd done wrong to get it there.

"You're together?" Sirius repeated quietly, still watching them with that same expression. Remus' hand was placed gently on his back, a motion Regulus often did to James to calm him down. He knew it well, Remus thought Sirius was about to explode.

"We were planning on telling you, it's only been two weeks since we actually got together-" James began nervously.

Regulus swallowed hard, Sirius was the person they'd been most anxious to tell, worried about how he'd react.

"This is fucking amazing." Sirius called, pulling them both into a crushing hug, "Merlin, my brothers! I'm so happy for you both!"

Regulus wasn't sure surprised was quite enough to cover what he was experiencing right now. He needed something more intense, somewhere around the intensity of a nuclear bomb might cover it.

"You're okay with it?" James asked skeptically, his hand intertwining with Regulus' seemingly without thought.

Sirius laughed, "Well it sure as hell beats thinking Regulus was going to drown." He replied, "But, honestly, I'm happy for you guys!"

People took their turns congratulating them, eventually, when the excitement had passed and everyone went back to their own activities again, Regulus turned to James,

"Can we go again?" He asked, giving him the look that he knew made James fold every time.

"Yeah, we can do it again." James laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead, "I love you."

"I love you too." Regulus smiled, taking a deep breath in as he walked over to the ledge. He nodded to James, who was already muttering the spell under his breath.

And off they went once more, flying through the water in their own peaceful little bubble.

Regulus had never been more happy than he was right then, with James holding him close and all of their friends having fun in the distance. No more secrets. No more lies.

He found Sirius' eyes when James swam them back to the safer water, his smile was filled with approval.

Regulus relaxed against his boyfriend, there was no place on earth he would rather be.

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lych33dragoncookie · 22 days ago

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Alright. Chapter 6. Boy do I have some choice words about this one.

Let's start small, though. With Spice being a fucking freak.

Look, I'm a Dragon Ball fan. I'm easy to please with this kind of thing. You give me a character who is really weird about fighting and I'll hoot and holler about it all day long. This isn't a generic "Villain plays with their food, this ends up being a terrible mistake later" situation; Spice could have killed her right there and then, much like Flour intended to do with Dark Cacao when his soul jam was stolen, but here? Nah. He wants to coke this woman up for a chance at a good fight with her and her in specific. Weirdo. I like him.

Smoked Cheese continues to be really really good this update, by the way. I couldn't be any more glad to have him here.

He's blunt. He knows how to strike a nerve, how to push someone's buttons; just because he's undeniably on the side of good, that doesn't mean these inherent traits of his' are gone. They're being repurposed, the same methods going towards a better end, he's still undeniably him, no one else would speak up to the queen like this, he knows what makes her tick, and he's using that to drag her off of the ground and bring her back up. I'm absolutely loving every bit of it.

This chapter also does a really good job of accentuating the sheer contrast Golden Cheese and Burning Spice have as rulers, with the former having outright raised her closest subjects, keeping them on an equal level, and providing for them with no hesitation or restraint, while the latter keeps his subjects in line through fear and nothing more.

Specially because, later on, it's shown that it's not at all empty threats...

He fucking killed her.

This is entirely unprecedented. I don't think we've ever seen anyone kill another character, NPC or not, onscreen. Elder Faerie didn't so much die from being murdered or anything, as much as he gave away his own life force and all that stuff to White Lily so she could deal with Shadow Milk This isn't that. This is a character being unceremoniously, ruthlessly killed, even if it wasn't a playable one. A cookie, no less; not any of the little animals, who despite their sapience wouldn't have had the same sort of impact, no, he instantly reduced this one cookie to nothing without any hesitation or remorse, and threatened to do the same to her grieving followers immediately after.

Golden Cheese keeps her followers by giving without any restraint, while Burning Spice keeps his followers by letting the threat of destruction loom over their heads constantly, willing to take from them the moment he gets an excuse to, or just because he feels like it.

And, speaking of him; while this update didn't give us a glimpse on how he started, that "first kingdom" that he ruled and presumably saw wither to dust, we did get to see something else.

His breaking point.

Admittedly, I feel like if one were to observe just these 2 story chapters, cutscenes alone, they'd get the wrong impression. If we look outside them, we're well aware that Burning Spice was once a benevolent figure, and that even now he avoids thinking about the first kingdom he ruled. With that context, these lines make a lot of sense.

Despite being the herald of change; time, change itself, was not kind to him. Burning Spice shows us the inherent pain of the idea of immortality. Of how futile it would feel to get attached to absolutely anything, knowing it'll all just wither away sooner or later, and you'll outlast those very things. After an innumerable amount of time, seeing entire civilizations rise and fall, over and over again, becoming more and more desensitized and numb to it all after the great pain of that first loss, it's no wonder it would all end up feeling utterly pointless. Why get attached if it'll all become nothing eventually? If by getting attached, you're just leaving yourself vulnerable to the pain of loss again? Why have any interest in this newly sprouting life if it'll all just wither away like all the ones before? Life, unfortunately, is limited. Fleeting. And while that already causes great pain to those possessing mortal life, at least they too know that it won't be forever. That we're all on the same ground, and that we can make the best of the time we have. But if all you have is time, time that nothing else around you has, then...

Eventually, without a strong will and the right philosophy, it will drive you mad. And that's exactly what happened here. Life may be fleeting, something irreplicable yet completely limited; but just as there will always be life, there will always be a way for that life to be extinguished. Life is unrepeatable and unique, but destruction? If you find pleasure in destruction, you always have something to look forward to. The feeling caused by razing everything to the ground is perfectly replicable, something that can't be taken away from you. It's immediate, final, and requires no pain or attachment. Empty and unfulfilling, yes; but painless and addictive.

There is no greater pretense. There is no long term. There is no end goal.

It's just all about getting addicted to the thrill of senseless, heart-pumping violence. If there's always something to destroy, there's always something to look forward to, after all; something no one can take away from you.

... Of course, this isn't to say any of this is correct. Obviously not. The complete improbability of a scenario where one cannot die of old age aside, this is the complete opposite of how you should approach this. You can keep reminders of said fleeting life, find attachment to things that will last just as long as you, make sure to never forget all the experiences that immortality has allowed you to form, and value what you have in the moment, making sure to let its memory and purpose live on through you. Something a certain someone else will, most likely, embody as her long, long lifespan continues.

Ok, this was all meant to be one post, but I have too many images to put here, and Tumblr really doesn't like that. So...

1/2

See you in like, another 30 minutes or so. Idk.

#jester ramblings #update analysis #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #smoked cheese cookie

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gghostwriter · 4 months ago

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Poison Me, I’m Fine

Spencer Reid x Songwriter!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process

Warning: angst with no happy ending

A/n: I feel insane for writing this in one sitting and not editing it. There's no part 2 for this, I just wanted to purge myself of this angst plot that took over me. This is probably the closest I could write to a singer-songwriter reader x spencer, granted she just writes for other pop stars (maybe I'll write some popstar!reader next time idk yet.) Also, 'Free Now by Gracie Abrams' and 'The Black Dog by Taylor Swift' was on repeat when I wrote this so you can spot some inspiration from both here. Hope you like it!

Main masterlist

You don’t know why you settled for less. Why you opted to walk on a blurry tight rope, why you chose a crumbling place to land on, and why you chose to enter a situationship that will end in heartbreak. Actually, scratch that, you do know why. Spencer Reid, that was enough reason for you to put yourself on the line. Or it was until your treacherous, greedy heart wanted more.

Does she follow like an echo? Like your shadow, you can try, but you can't run

It started with hushed whispers. Your mind slowly poisoning itself with what ifs and scenarios where he was fully yours, just like how he unknowingly owned you—mind, body, and soul. Whispers of—wouldn’t it be nice to visit this museum again with Spencer or he’d love this newly opened vintage bookstore around the block or it’d be nice to see the stars with him right now. You tried to cleanse those thoughts away but that’s the thing, poison that has entered your bloodstream is hard to remove.

It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time It's a shame that I memorized your outline

It morphed to vivid imagery next—hallucinations so life-like that you found yourself believing it half of the time. Portraits of him and you holding hands as you both walked down the streets, phantom outlines of you together swaying close to muted music, and shadows of you and him twisting in bedsheets. All untrue, except for the latter. You attempt to blink them all away with no success. Your heart reluctant to part with the delusion than face the truth—that he had only offered you his body and nothing else.

Every page that I wrote, you were on it Feel you deep in my bones, you're the current

It seeped out of you next—to your writings, to your works as if your body was doing its best to reject the poison away. To save itself from the nearing death that seemed inevitable in the end. Your poetry, your lyrics, and your art all contain entangled webs of metaphors and colors that lead back to him. Purple streaks on your canvas to represent his favorite, his beloved authors mentioned in your verses, and symbolisms of his career scattered all over—cuffs, guns, shot and everything in between. You tried to pour it all out of you, the dark and sticky emotion of despair and longing covering you and all extensions of you. Everyone noticed the change. The dimming of lights in your eyes and the shadows that threaten to swallow you whole. Everyone noticed—your family, friends, colleagues, and even the pop stars that buy your singles. Everyone except for the one that could save you, Spencer.

It turned into screams next. It was as if your body gathered all its remaining strength to shout for help or to howl in pain, you’re not sure really. All you’re sure of was that the end was near. The end was coming to free you from everything—from him. The trigger was overhearing him discuss you with his friend and male co-worker during a run-in in his apartment where he had no choice but to introduce you. Six months of pseudo dating him and no one knew you existed.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, wanting to escape the tension emitting from the situation and when you came back, that’s when you heard it. The lethal blow to your already dying heart.

“She seems nice,” his friend, Morgan, commented.

Spencer shrugged. “She’s no Maeve—not as deep but she’s—she’s safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop it from quivering lest you whimper out loud the pain his words has caused you.

Donning on a fake smile on your face, you watched as Morgan left with a wave goodbye to you and a casual ‘see you again.’ Not like that would ever come true.

Within seconds, you felt your mask cracking as tears slowly trickled down your face.

“I love you.”

They say the truth sets us free but not this truth. All it did was crash, burn, and pulverize your already precarious stacks of sticks that represent you and him.

Silence.

“You know, when we first started this—whatever this is—I promised to myself that I wouldn’t fall for you. That this was purely physical, sex,” you sardonically laughed. “But you know what I realized, that you were easy to fall in love with. So easy that I found myself ruined even before I could comprehend where and when it happened.”

“We agreed, didn’t we? That we would tell the truth and stop when feelings are starting to get involved. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You roughly swiped away the tears. “I didn’t know when it happened, Spencer! I thought if I stuck it out long enough, you’d feel something for me too! But that was foolish of me to believe. I see it now.”

“See what?”

You walked towards him, invading his personal space. The same way he did with yours. “That you’re not ready. Honestly I’d prefer if my opponent was standing in front of me. At least I could gauge if I had the chance to win. But with her, she’s gone, Spencer—” you jabbed your pointy finger on his chest, where his heart was. “I’m fighting with a ghost who I can’t even land a hit on. A ghost who haunts your every waking and dreaming moment. Tell me, Spencer, how do I compete with that—when I feel there’s little to no space for me. I exist only in between and in your limbo when you’re craving for a physical companion. How do I win, Spencer? Tell me or should I just throw in the towel?”

“Y/N—”

His eyes contained the answer and although it wasn’t what you were wishing for, it was what you subconsciously knew you needed to free you.

You nodded your head. “I guess—I guess this is it, huh. End of the line for us.”

“I guess so.”

You gathered your coat, haphazardly strewn on the floor—just like the pieces of your shattered heart and as you stepped out of his threshold, you gave yourself one last chance to memorize his outlines.

“Goodbye, Spencer.”

And finally, the poison had killed you and had set you free.

If you feel like fallin', catch me on the way down Never been less empty, all I feel is free now

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer Reid oneshot #Spencer Reid one shot #gw fics

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thewordswewrite · 11 months ago

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Like Winter, Like Spring

Pairing | Mizu x Fem!Reader

Summary | After the events of episode five, Mizu stumbles into the forest barely clinging to life and you happen to be hunting.

Or what would happen if you found Mizu bleeding out and cared for her (in more ways than one)?

Warnings | NSFW 18+, mentions of injury/blood/killing

W/C | 7.3k

A/N | I’ve been consumed by this show and can't help but recommend it to everyone, so please if you haven't already done so, watch it. Please leave me some comments and lmk what you think!!-Smoe<33

AO3 | Link

Donations | Link

Part Ⅰ: Winter

In the moonlit haze, a spirit roams, lost and cold, whispers of vengeance unfold, onryo's bitter gaze.

The snow soaked through your socks as you took exaggerated steps through the powder, cold seeping into your toes and numbing them. Though you had enough firewood to last until the first thaw, your food stores were beginning to dwindle. It had been a harsh winter, one your father hadn’t survived, leaving you to fend for yourself. Your day had been one of minor success; three rabbits hung from the rope tied around your waist, a haul good enough for the next few nights based on their size and you decided to head home.

Food was becoming harder to come by, and without your father, you could not venture into Mihonoseki to stock up on more dried goods. Your father had always been of more liberal views but you were still a woman and he was still your father meaning you knew where you stood in society. Due to necessity alone, your father taught you to hunt; a bow and arrow the ‘only thing suited to a woman’ your father once told you.

You pulled your scarf tighter around your head as the wind whipped around you, snow falling harder and harder as you walked. You were sure anyone else other than you caught in the storm would be utterly lost, but you knew the place like the back of your hand. As the wind howled, it carried to you the sounds of the forest and with it a distant grunt of pain, just loud enough for your keen ears to pick up on and you stilled. You would have ignored it–a lone man more often than not meaning trouble–but he was headed in the direction of your home and therefore you needed to act. With your brow set, you sank into a crouch and rifled through the snow until your unfeeling fingers grasped a rock, waiting for another sound from the man.

A hunter knew how to stalk its prey and in that moment you treated the man as nothing more. With every sound he made you got closer, using the noise from the environment to mask your own as you trailed him. In the distance, you caught sight of someone clad in navy and in the opposite direction of your home, threw the rock. You hadn’t been too worried until you heard the ‘shing’ of a katana and the crash of a tree.

A samurai.

It could be no one else with that blade or skill, and though they were meant to be honorable, you knew, they were still men. You knew every road, every tree that grew in these woods and as you were coming back up on the main trail where the samurai fled, one was struck down. Your pale hand reached out to stroke the clean-cut trunk, not yet five years old by your count and yet it had fallen. It was mindless acts of violence like this that made you distrustful of strangers.

A quick glance at the area revealed a small trail of blood, likely left by the man, and you couldn’t help but let a rueful smile grace your lips. His death would be easier than you thought. Cold, lost, and injured was a dangerous combination for anyone, but for a man in your woods? It was lethal.

You were soundless as you descended upon your prey, a respectable distance away but close enough to see his profile. He was dressed in simple pants and a shirt, though the latter looked to be soaked through with blood as one of his hands pressed against his stomach, the other grasping a blue blade, ripe for attack. It was too easy for you to nock an arrow and draw, your breath steadying as you aimed for his heart. You were preparing for the release when suddenly to your left a twig snapped and the samurai’s gaze turned to the noise, and then onto you.

The man raised his sword, removing his hand from his side to give the encounter his full attention. “Who sent you?”

You were puzzled by the question. Not only were you clearly a woman, but who was he that he thought himself important enough to have assassins sent after him? You didn’t think to voice these questions aloud but they were answered anyway when you finally caught sight of his eyes: blue.

When he spoke again, he must have registered that you were not who he thought you were. “I am no threat to you. I am just passing through.” To prove his point he sheathed his blade and put up his hands.

You hesitated to drop your own weapon but since he was injured and still a good enough distance away, you let-down your bow and stood to your full height, noticing the man was not much taller than you.

“Leave here!” You shouted, hands still latched to your grip and arrow, ready to fire should the need arise.

The samurai began backing up slowly, nodding to you and returning pressure to the wound at his side. When he did so, he grunted and his eyes fluttered. It all seemed to happen in a single moment when he was suddenly face down in the snow and you were taking brisk but weary steps towards him. As you got closer, the extent of his injuries became clearer and you could see the tips of his ears and nose red from the cold. Your eyes closed in exasperation; you hadn’t intended to stumble across a half-white, dying samurai let alone bring him to your home, but seeing as you weren’t too far away and he had shown no intention of attacking you, you could not, in good conscience, leave him in the snow to die.

With a huff, you flipped the man over, grabbed him under the arms, and began to haul him toward your home, the dense snow making the task almost more difficult than you could manage. You knew he was alive based solely on the noises of discomfort he released in his sleep as you readjusted your grip and pulled harder. You were forced to stop every few feet, panting from the effort it took but when you finally were able to kick open your door and get him in front of the fireplace, you felt a sense of relief.

As you pulled up the samurai’s kimono, you got a glimpse of four deep gashes punctured into his stomach and your heart dropped. “Please stay with me.”

It was immediately apparent to you what had caused his wounds: Boss Hamata, or more accurately, his Thousand-Claw Army. That would explain why he thought someone had sent you after him and why he was covered in so much more blood than what was plausibly his own. Anxiety sent goosebumps down your arms. The thought of one of Boss Hamata’s men coming to your home and killing the both of you for whatever this samurai did entered your mind. You tried to reason with yourself; no man in his right mind would enter this storm and they must know the samurai was injured, likely only letting him go because he was sure to die. That was that you decided: he could stay until the storm passed and not a second longer. Enough time, by the looks of it, for him to heal enough to leave but not enough for anyone to come knocking at your door looking for him.

With your mind made up, you went about untying his kimono to get better access to his wound. Your still-warming fingers deftly undid the knot and moved to unwrap the samurai when suddenly a hand shot up and wrapped itself around your wrist, halting your actions.

“No.” The man’s eyes fought to open and you were once again treated to a glimpse of blue through thick black lashes. He was only able to mutter the single word before he once again fell unconscious and you stared at him a beat longer.

He didn’t have the luxury of his warning being granted, and you instead opened his shirt, only to find his chest already wrapped. Or rather her chest already wrapped. A gasp escaped you as you balked at the sight, eyes darting again to the face of the person below you and noticing not only the sharp curve of their jaw but the softness of their cheeks and decidedly feminine-looking lips. Yes, you stopped your thoughts from drifting, she was a woman, but that made your job no different.

With clinical movements, you cleaned her wound with warm water, being sure to be as gentle as possible. You retrieved a suture kit your father had gotten from town after you had cut yourself chopping wood one day and began to sterilize the needle over the fire. You ran your fingers over the inflamed skin and worried when the woman’s stomach felt warm. The stitches were quick and clean, the woman below you making no movements which worried you but did make the process easier. Once each of the four gashes was closed, you wrapped up her stomach with strips of fabric and struggled to remove her soaked shirt–though, you left her pants for the sake of her already violated modesty.

You looked at her face once again, now less troubled looking than before, and saw hints of purple peeking out from under her scarf. Much like her shirt you undid her scarf as well and were horrified to see a deep purple handprint marring her skin. With little else you could do you opened your door, the wind catching it as you did so, slamming it open in your rush to gather enough snow to compress onto the samurai’s neck.

Another gust wafted flurries into your home, chilling the room before you could close the door in time and you cursed. You wrapped the snow in the previously discarded scarf and placed it on the samurai’s neck in hopes it would ease the pain. As tightly as you could, you bundled the woman in your father’s blanket and placed your own rolled-up one under her head as support after taking her katana and placing it across the room. Just in case.

With nothing else to do to try and keep her alive, you finally got to skinning the rabbits and making yourself dinner. You decided to wait until the woman was awake until you tried to feed her and thus only made enough for yourself. The food was hearty and warm and after the exertion you surrendered to the day, you were exhausted. In lieu of having a blanket, you threw on a second kimono and huddled close to your guest and the fire and, in an act of trust, you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

- ⚔ -

You startled awake at the sound of someone shuffling around your home but all at once the memories of the day before come back to you.

“You’re awake,” You yawned, rubbing your eyes as you looked over at the half-clothed samurai propped up against your wall.

“You stitched my wounds. Why?” The woman’s voice was thick and gravelly but you could only focus on her eyes.

Your answer was simple and steadfast. “I could not leave you when you meant me no harm.”

The woman seemed to scan your face and must have found what she was looking for when she relaxed and coughed at the simple action. You took the lull to stand and place your kettle on the fire, intending on making sobacha tea for your guest. Her entire demeanor shifted when you moved and she realized she was without her sword.

“Where is my katana?” The woman ground out, eyes darting around the space.

You gestured silently to where it lay on the other side of the room and went back to pouring the tea, steeping it to your liking and hoping it was to the tastes of the woman across from you. You handed a steaming cup to the woman and cleared your throat, intending to find out more about your mysterious guest. You watched as she took a sip of the tea and closed her eyes for a moment to savor the flavor or feeling you were unsure but either way were happy she approved.

“What’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The woman paused before she answered, “Mizu.”

You introduced yourself and went about using the final two rabbits you killed to make a stew as well as some rice to help fill up. The silence between you two was undemanding as Mizu simply sat with her eyes closed while you cooked. It wasn’t long before you’d finished, offering a bowl to your guest which she took while meeting your eyes.

Mizu bowed her head. “I want to thank you for your hospitality and for saving my life.”

“As I said, I had to.” You shook your head with a smile as you ate.

The woman’s face suddenly went solemn and she put down her bowl. “Yes, but now you have to keep my secret, or else I cannot allow you to keep your life.”

Your eyes darted over to where her katana was, still half a room away, and took a steadying breath. “I can promise you I will never tell another soul but I need something in return,” Mizu looked at you apprehensively, her eyebrow raised. “You must be gone by the time the storm ends. I cannot be caught sheltering you in my home or Boss Hamata will have me killed.”

Her attention drifted from you, her expression unbothered. “You needn't worry about him or his army.”

“Why? You were clearly attacked by one of his men and–” Mizu cut you off with a raise of her hand.

“I killed them all.”

You took a moment to revel in the shock of the admission, spoken as though it was nothing more than a typical day for the female samurai. In your revelation, Mizu slid her bowl over to you, the blanket covering her shifting with the action and your cheeks warmed. You go to look away but stop yourself, instead letting your eyes search over her bandages for any signs of infection or bleeding before Mizu goes to cover herself back up, shooting you an indignant look.

“Oh! No, I–” You backtracked, knowing how it must have seemed. “Your wound, I was just looking to see if I should replace the bandages and…” You gestured to the bloodied cloth, “It looks like I should.”

Mizu looked down at herself and grimaced at the sight. “Fine, but I can do it myself.”

You nodded and retrieved a bowl of water for her to clean herself with as well as a new set of cloth to rewrap herself. You watched her struggle to undo the wrapping for a total of two minutes before you couldn’t help but reach towards her in aid though as you did she jerked away, wincing at the action and your face tightened.

“Please, let me help you.”

The two of you were locked in a stare-down, neither willing to give up ground so you decided to take it, scooting yourself forward and batting away her hands. Mizu looked ready to put up a fight but instead, she relented, allowing you to reach around her torso. Your faces were close as you did so, Mizu’s warm breath wafting sharply across your cheek as you pulled on the dressing to release it.

She began moving in every which way as you passed the bandages around her body to try and help the process go by quickly but your hands must have been chilled because when you finally revealed her skin and ran a hand along the plane of her stomach Mizu shivered and you looked up to see her eyes already trained on you. Mizu kept a hard look on her face as you wiped away congealed blood from her wound though it looked to you to have already begun scabbing, causing a self-satisfied smile to grace your face.

“It’s looking better. I think you should be okay to travel in a few days.” The labored breathing of the injured woman forced another comment from you. “Although, I think it would be beneficial for you to remove your bindings for the time being.”

Mizu gave you another long look and you figured that she must not be used to conversing with people regularly, a trait you both now shared. In retaliation, Mizu attempted to take a deep breath though before she could, her lungs stuttered out dry coughs and her face screwed up in pain at the action.

“Fine.” She ground out, once again attempting to remove the wrap on her own and failing.

You were unamused at the sight and decided to skip the dance the two of you had been playing at since you dragged her into your home and just helped her instead. It was a similar tension as when you removed her bloodied bandage but thicker by about tenfold when your eyes met again.

You couldn’t get over the sight, blue as the sky and sea but clouded by emotion. She looked to be studying you just the same, her eyes languidly making their way over your features before settling on your mouth. You couldn’t help but let your lips part, overcome with the moment and Mizu’s increasingly seductive gaze. Your cheeks burned under her but you weren't alone in your fluster, Mizu’s own face tinged pink as well, shared heat radiating between you.

All you had to do was lean forward and–

You cleared your throat at the thought and pulled back, “I’ll let you finish on your own. I’ll leave you.”

- ⚔ -

Ethereal and pale, haunting tales of love's demise, echo through her cold blue eyes, as sorrow sets its sail.

Hunting always cleared your mind, which, at that moment, was racing with thoughts of feelings you’d never experienced before. It wasn’t the fear of attraction that bothered you, but the fear of who you’d grown such a sensitivity toward. It would be easy if Mizu was just a lone samurai, someone wandering through life, a man, but she was none of those things and you were but a woman.

You’d been stalking your prey for a few miles, a serow that looked large enough for four meals between two people. Clad in your lightest clothes, you blended into the snowy environment and stepped slowly so as to not startle the creature. A moment of pause and a softly spoken prayer was all that was in between the serow’s short life and its quick death. Your emotions peaked as you released your arrow and the animal hit the ground, its breaths stuttering wetly as blood filled its chest. The pure white snow tainted red as you kneeled and slipped your knife from where it rested in its holster before promptly goring open the beast’s neck, killing it instantly.

You sat in the snow, waiting until the serow bled out enough for you to take it back, and began to think. You had very little, living in the woods alone, but it seemed to you so did Mizu. You were unsure if she even felt that way about other women as you had just discovered it was possible yourself. Mizu had incontestable skill, having claimed to have killed the Thousand-Claw Army single-handedly and suffered only a single serious injury. To you, she meant safety, security, and companionship, but what could you offer other than a home you were unsure she even wanted to come back to?

“Give me strength,” You called out to the universe and stood, bearing the weight of your future dinner on your back.

It was a difficult hike home but you were greeted by an up-and-about Mizu when you managed to open the door and throw down the serow.

“I made tea,” She announced, gesturing lamely to the steaming pot, uneasy at your sudden entrance.

You smiled and removed your scarf, brushing snow off of you and onto the floor in the process. “I can see that. Thank you.”

She nodded at your gratitude, her eyes not quite meeting your own. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to skin and carve this, then I can get started on dinner,” You moved to begin your task but Mizu stopped you.

“I can skin it. You rest.”

Your shoulders sagged with a relief you didn’t know you would feel and you smiled at her once again. You took your time undressing down to a single kimono and looked back to see Mizu butchering the pelt of your kill.

You gasped and Mizu stopped, startled as she looked up. “What?”

“Have you ever skinned an animal before?” You accused, taking three short strides over to her.

“Yes!” She defends. “Just nothing ever this large.”

You walk behind her and place your hand over hers. “Here, like this.”

Her hands are warmer than yours, but rougher, hardened by years of training and being on the road. She was slightly taller than you, forcing you to lean your head on the side of her arm in order to see what you were guiding her to do. You feigned intense focus while skinning the animal to combat the feeling that Mizu’s stolen and frequent glances gave you.

“Where is the man you live with?” She asked suddenly, causing you to stop your movements and remove yourself from behind her, too distracted in such close proximity.

Your heart clenched and you sighed. “Dead. My father got sick a month after the first snow.”

“My condolences.”

“I just realized you’re the first person I’ve spoken to since he died.” You laughed mournfully.

A dark look passed over Mizu’s face and she handed you the knife, gesturing for you to finish the skinning with your superior ability. “Let’s finish dinner.”

- ⚔ -

Your third meal together was nothing special, grilled meat and rice being all you had to get through the winter. The days were growing shorter and your energy with it, not to mention the strain healing took on Mizu and you as her unstudied nurse, left the both of you exhausted and ready to go to bed. Though your eyes drooped when you laid down, you couldn’t manage to find sleep, instead tossing and turning as Mizu slept soundlessly across from you.

A deep yawn tore itself from you and finally, you felt yourself relax into your slumber. Little by little your eyes closed and your breath slowed, as you were lulled by the crackle of the fire. This was until Mizu’s voice echoed throughout the room.

“I need you to know, I am on the path of revenge. There’s no place on it for friendship…or love.”

You were hazy with sleep but the admission hurt. “I understand.”

“I’m planning on leaving the day after tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

What else could you say?

The room retired to its previous silence but now you were fully awake and your heart pounded over what Mizu said truly meant to you. The little life you had constructed in your mind vanished into thin air, thoughts racing and consumed with every question you would never be able to ask her.

It was when you accepted you’d never see her again that you spoke. “I feel it's easier to talk in the dark so now I will ask: why do you dress as a man?”

Three seconds go by and Mizu fails to respond, making you assume she was either asleep or ignoring your question. When you’d all but given up hope she responded. “Because of my birth. And because it's difficult to be a woman in this world.”

“It is. After winter, I don’t know what I will do without my father. I have no chaperone to travel with and once spring comes and the roads become busy, I will have no assurance of my safety.” You curled in on yourself a bit tighter than before, your eyes welling up with tears.

“You have your bow and this house. That's more than many.” Her graveled voice sounded almost condescending and you were annoyed.

“More for a man, less for a woman.” You argued, turning to look at her.

Sensing your growing anger, you took a breath and opted not to continue the conversation instead looking angrily at the sword-wielding woman before screwing your eyes shut.

She cleared her throat and you opened your eyes once again, her pale eyes meeting yours before she spoke. “What happened to your mother?”

You sighed, decidedly finished with the conversation but Mizu didn't seem to catch on. “She died in childbirth.”

“You could always marry,” She suggested. “I was married once.”

Your brows set though the admission surprised you. “And now you’re dressed as a man in a pursuit for revenge,” Mizu gave you a look of defeat and you leveled with her. “I would be shackled to my husband and I have no desire for kids. I wish to live freely.”

Mizu’s eyes seemed to shine for a moment before she spoke. “You remind me of a princess I knew.”

- ⚔ -

Mizu had been antsy all day. Sewing up her clothes, checking and rechecking her wounds, stretching and eating her fill, all in preparation to leave you the next morning. You could assume she never stayed anywhere as long as she’d stayed in your home so you could understand why she felt that way though it didn’t help the growing pit in your stomach. You couldn’t wrap your head around it; you’d barely known her for three days and already you were, dare you say, truly sad she was leaving.

When seeing her pack became too much to bear, you used hunting as an excuse to leave, not bothering to go very far, but to a boulder you often frequented when you needed to sit in silence. The view was beautiful, overlooking a shallow valley that was currently coated in a layer of white, a calming sight while you attempted to reacclimate your mind to the reality of your solitude. Mizu was nothing more than a dream that you’d conjured up in order to live your fantasy life of freedom with. You should’ve known better.

When you got back to your house and walked in, Mizu looked you over and frowned. “Nothing today?”

You sighed, feigning defeat. “No, but I have more than enough for now,” Giving her a falsely nonchalant look you shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll need to go out again until after you leave.”

Silenced for a moment, Mizu just nodded and handed you a cup of tea. It seemed to have become a sort of ritual, her making you tea whenever you came back from a hunt. It was welcome and something you could get used to if the universe let you. Instead, you bowed your head in thanks and took a sip, pleasantly surprised to find it was made to your liking.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Mizu graced you with a small smile and your eyebrows shot up but you quickly turned to hide your quiet awe.

You moved over to your food storage and tried to come up with a meal that would be a worthy send-off of your limited time together but came up short. It would be meat and rice again though Mizu never showed any indication of being dissatisfied. Stubbornly, you rifled through your shelves and when your hand met glass and you realized it was a bottle of saké you smiled.

“Unfortunately it’ll be another meal of stew and rice but I’ve been saving this for a special occasion. Now seems as good as any.” You held up the bottle and Mizu looked dubious.

“I–I don’t drink,” She tried to deny you but you weren’t taking no for an answer.

You placed a hand on your hip and cocked it, looking at her unamused. “I think as payment for my food and hospitality you owe me this favor.” She looked conflicted but with an expectant raise of your eyebrows, she gave in.

“I suppose one would be okay.”

Dinner was mediocre but drink after drink, you and Mizu became more comfortable with each other and much to your amazement, began sharing stories.

“So…who was your rival again?” You wondered, almost sure she had already told you.

“He’s not my rival,” She mocked, rolling her eyes. “He’s just a samurai who I defeated in battle and has been chasing me around demanding a rematch so he can regain his honor.” Mizu seemed exacerbated at the prospect and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why don’t you just fight him again?” You deadpanned. “I’m sure he’d leave you alone once he got what he wanted.”

“Because he wants to fight to the death, it would be him or me.” Mizu sobered up at that statement and swiftly downed another cup of saké.

“But…you defeated the Thousand-Claw Army alone,” You slowly put the pieces together and began to nod. “I understand.”

“He could be a good man, he just needs to let himself.”

That reminded you of a time in your childhood when your father was still young and strong, lending you wisdom that turned you into the woman you are today. Flashes of a house on the corner of a street, and a little girl with two missing teeth shot through your mind and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“That reminds me of something my father used to say,” You smiled at the memory and continued. “When I was little and we still lived in Mihonoseki, I lost my two front teeth at the same time and this girl who lived near me kept making fun of me.”

“What does that have to do with your–” Mizu hiccupped, looking confused. “Your father?”

“If you’d let me finish! So…she kept making fun of me and I made a plan to mess with her and when my father found out he told me,” You deepened your voice, attempting to imitate the way your father spoke with utmost sternness. “‘Daughter, you may be the more honorable, you need only allow yourself to be.’”

There was a moment of pause before the two of you burst into laughter. Though Mizu’s was much quieter, you were endeared by the sound. Your grin felt as though it would split your face if it got any wider and Mizu looked at you flustered.

“I like your laugh.” You found yourself giggling and when you tried to scoot closer to Mizu, the room spun.

She caught you as you swayed but nearly toppled over herself in turn. You found yourself grasping onto Mizu and she onto you, alone in your home as a blizzard raged on outside. You stared brazenly into her eyes, at a color you didn’t think you’d ever become accustomed to.

“Mizu, I–” Your voice failed when you attempted to continue, a lump forming in your throat when her gaze traveled to your lips as you spoke.

You’d thought about it once already, stopping yourself before the thought could develop but now, when you were a little more than drunk on saké, you couldn’t help yourself. A single tick of time went by, eyes flashing from Mizu’s mouth to her eyes and back before you were pressing your lips to hers.

She inhaled sharply at the contact but you pressed on, opening your mouth to her and sliding a hand around her neck. Mizu tentatively slid her own around your waist and gave an almost experimental squeeze as she deepened the kiss, letting her tongue trace yours and forcing a moan from your throat.

When she heard the noise it was as if Mizu was spurred on, advancing on you in a way you didn't think a woman in her state was capable of. Your back was pressed into the ground as she hovered above you, a heated look on her now more delicate-looking features before she descended upon you again. Her mouth was soft in a way her grasp was not as she trailed kisses down your neck, a moan escaping her lips when she sucked on a particularly sensitive spot and you pulled at the hair on her nape, loosening her bun in the process. Your hand cupped her jaw as you brought her mouth back to your own and stole another kiss.

Reaching up, you tugged the remainder of her hair down, allowing it to cascade over you like an inky waterfall. Mizu smiled as you tucked a strand behind her ear and kissed her once more. It wasn’t until you both had your fill that your actions began to slow and you saw her lips red with desire and knew your own likely matched, not to mention the state of your neck. You lay together in front of the fire, your head on her unbound chest as she traced unconscious patterns into your shoulder where your kimono had slipped during your escapades.

You reveled in the heat of her and the tingles she left in the wake of her touch, though knew she’d be gone when you woke and decided to ask your next question on a whim of hope. “If you think of me, even once after you leave, come back to me when you’ve found your revenge.”

You felt Mizu’s head angle towards your ear as she whispered two words: “I will.”

In the realm between, past and present intertwined, where a restless soul confined, seeks justice unforeseen.

Part Ⅱ: Spring

Beneath the sapphire moon, shadows dance in shades of blue, where love once bloomed, now askew, a blue blade gleams, a fateful tune.

Spring had been bountiful for you, animals re-emerged from the frost and the warming temperatures made it easy to forage. With the changing seasons came a margin of sadness in the lack of a certain samurai’s return. The roads had picked up some traffic but all had just been harmless travelers, no bandits busting down your door to attack you which you were grateful for but never had you been so disappointed someone didn’t come knocking. With a sigh, you shook your head, having no reason to expect Mizu to come back, especially considering you had no actual details on where she was going or how long she’d be away.

You managed a few martens in the short time you’d been out and decided it was enough for a decent meal. With a soft huff, you slugged your bow over your shoulder and began the hike back home, your stomach rumbling at your lack of midday meal.

The walk was no more than thirty minutes, cherry blossoms swaying in the wind and the soft earth beneath your feet lended to the tranquil mood. Your house was looking a little worse for wear after the snow had melted: the roof needed to be repaired, and a loose step in the porch stairs somehow always managed to trip you when you went out. Skipping that board on the way up, you pushed open your door and were met with a familiar sight.

Striking blue met yours as you saw Mizu standing in the center of the room, a pot of tea and two cups resting on the table to the right of her. Before you could manage to speak, your body carried you to her, dropping everything you held in the process to take her in your arms.

A small oomph sounded from Mizu as you collided with her and her hand came up to rest on the back of your head, you having already buried it in her shoulder. The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, just reveling in the feeling of your togetherness before you pulled back, though only far enough to be able to meet her eyes. Her bangs were longer, covering her forehead and you noticed she was without her sword.

It was a silent conversation only shared between the flitting of your eyes but when Mizu’s settled her lips captured yours. You’d longed for the moment you’d once again be endowed with the plushness of her lips and at the contact tears welled up in your eyes. Your mouths danced together and one of Mizu’s hands went to cradle your face, the other holding you firmly to her as she took control of your mouth. Her touch burned, kiss after kiss marring your skin and ruining you for anyone else.

“How have you been?” She asked, her voice lighter than you remembered.

“I’ve been well,” You chuckled wetly. “And you?”

Her eyes closed momentarily and she stroked your cheek with her thumb. “Still walking the same path I have my entire life.”

This puzzled you, having not expected to see her until she’d completed her mission. “You didn’t get your revenge?” Your shoulders sagged when Mizu shook her head, and you gave her a soft peck on the lips in apology.

“I trust Ringo found you?” She looked genuinely curious and memories of a handless man coming to you with rice, beans, and a travel pass resurfaced.

“You sent him?” You smiled but were still confused. “Who is he?” The man had brought you gifts and cooked the best noodles you ever had in your life before leaving and claiming he would be back in a few month's time.

Mizu nodded, letting your face go but sliding her hand from across your back and sliding it into your own. “My apprentice. He accompanied me on my travels. Before I ventured into Edo, I gave him instructions to find you should I not return.”

“Not return? But–”

Mizu handed you the cup of forgotten tea, effectively cutting you off and you took an annoyed sip. “You’re the only person I had to see before I leave.”

The tea lodged in your throat at the admission, sending you into a coughing fit as you tried to clear the liquid from your lungs. “Leave? Leave where?”

A haunted look passed over her eyes, darkening them. “My path diverged in Edo. I chose the sea and tomorrow…I’m headed to London.”

“London?” All of a sudden you felt the same as you did that night all those months ago.

After some much-needed discussion, Mizu explained what she had set out to do and the vow she made to her mother when she was a child. You understood, how could you not? With every chop of your knife, dinner came together and you learned more about the woman you devoted so many sleepless nights to. Four white men, a quest for revenge, and a chance to gain it across the sea.

Mizu looked away from you when she spoke her next admission. “The shogun is dead. Edo burned.”

Your eyes shot up from your work and a sharp pain sliced through the backs of your fingers as you brought your knife down onto them. A hand reached out and Mizu was already tugging the white scarf from around her neck to wrap around your hand. She looked startled at the sight of your blood but you assumed she was used to it by now. She handled you delicately, enveloping your injury gently but snug enough that you trusted it would not come undone. Your attention was momentarily diverted before you processed what Miza had said, questions darting around your mind.

“The shogun is dead and Edo burned?”

“There was a coup, but I stopped the man in charge.” She seemed pleased by the outcome and you were in awe of the feat.

“And the city?”

Her expression dimmed and Mizu rubbed her eyes. “I started the fire…and it raged.”

A meal finally suitable for a goodbye–because that’s what this was–was ready in another fifteen minutes, most of which was filled with soft looks and stolen kisses, the pain and fear from hearing of Mizu’s narrow escape melting away with each one. You ate in companionable silence as they often came more naturally than conversation to the two of you.

- ⚔ -

Through the veil of time dire, the pale visage lingers on, a tale of love, now gone, in shadows of a haunted pyre.

Once the meal was finished and you’d both taken the time to clean up, Mizu took your hand and led you to your spot in front of the fireplace. She did little more than let you rest against her, savoring your touch as she nuzzled into your neck, dropping small kisses onto your skin. When you tried to touch or reciprocate Mizu tenderly denied the advances, letting all her focus stay rooted on you.

“I’ll be gone before you wake,” Mizu murmured as she caressed you.

You knew as much, having been told not an hour before but the reminder stung. “I know.”

She grabbed your face, turning it so you could do nothing but study her as she did you, your eyes locked on one another. Her expression shifted from a subtle longing to an unabashed look of want and seized your lips with an intensity that she had never allotted herself with you. Mizu licked into your mouth, tasting of the food you made and the tea she prepared, and dwelled on what it would be like if this was the rest of your life.

“Let me do this for you,” She rasped, her hot breath fanning over you. “Let’s make the most of tonight.”

Her fingers ghosted over your body until she reached the ties of your kimono and looked to you for permission. Understanding the silent question you nod, letting her undo the knots and reveal yourself to her. Mizu hovered over you, one arm supporting her weight and the other fondling your chest as she tasted your skin. Your arousal was almost uncontainable, your core throbbing at every touch, mewls and groans barely kept to yourself as the woman continued to shower you in affection.

“Mizu,” You couldn’t help but gasp when she slipped her hand between your legs and began to touch you.

Your composure slipped entirely when her fingers entered you and you clung to Mizu, nails scraping over her still-clothed body. You distantly knew you wanted to see more of her but failed to scrape together coherency as she thrust in and out of you, curling her fingers as she did so. Her thumb was massaging a toe-curling circle of pleasure and it was all too soon before you were reaching a peak. Breathy moans escaped you and Mizu swallowed them with hot kisses, noises of her own making their way to your ears as she took care of you.

Your loud cries echoed around the room as you came, clenching down on Mizu’s fingers though she rode you out until you were practically begging her to remove her hand. She smoothed her hand over your flushed face and whispered soothing words of praise as you returned to yourself.

“Beautiful,” She smiled, kissing each of your cheeks and then your lips. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” You tittered weakly. “I’m doing quite well.”

Mizu busied her hands by tying you back up and retrieving a blanket for the two of you to rest. “Good. I didn’t know if that was too much.” Her nervous tone was odd to you, given how easily she took control.

You gave her a peck to the cheek and took a breath to stare into her eyes that you’d grown to love. “It was perfect”

As you lay there, wrapped in Mizu’s arms and unsure of the future, you echoed to her a question you’d asked before.

“Will you come back to me?”

“I will.”

Yet, in the azure dawn, hope emerges, love reborn, fulfilling desires anew, as life unfolds, bright and true.

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pinkthrone445 · 4 months ago

Text

-Baila conmigo- Part 3

(Dance with me)

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Fun, soft, smut, hurt

Warnings:SMUT! TAKE YOUR SITS PEOPLE AND SOME DEEP BREATHS BECAUSE MEL IS RIDING YOUR FACE!

MINORS STAY AWAY, BARBARA IS WATCHING YOU. 👀

Summary:Mel finds you sad in a bar and decides to step in, not knowing that life will bring you back together again. Then a night destiny gets you closer than ever.

Just as quickly as time began to pass, you quickly became friends with the other teachers at school as well. While the redhead and that funny flirtation with her was your favorite interaction of the day, you also liked to spend time with others, especially with Jacob and all his witticisms.

Although you had already been working at school and "dating" the redhead for a month and a little more, the moments with her had not been more than a few goings out and a couple of wild kisses. You hadn't had something more intimate yet and it wasn't because you hadn't proposed it, but because she wasn't ready or sure to take that step yet, so you were patient about it and didn't wanted to push anymore. She didn't even know your house yet. But all that was about to change.

While you were in your classroom correcting a couple of your students' assignments taking advantage of the fact that they were sleeping a very well deserved nap after PE, the redhead entered your classroom very careful not to make noise and wake them. You looked up from the papers to pay attention to her, frowning at the sight of the tiredness under her eyes

-"Hola Mel, is everything okay? Do you want to sit?" - You asked worried

-"No, I'm okay... I came to ask you a favor... After school can I go with you to your house? Jacob is bringing his new "friend" home and the walls are too thin and I don't want to listen to them. Please?"-she asked with a very tired tone. The request took you by surprise, since you started working at school, the redhead repeated over and over again that you and she could not have a romantic relationship because it would make everything very complicated and strange, plus it was not what she was looking for. Even though you felt attraction to her, you accepted those terms, so your interactions with her limited to a few goings out, drinks and nothing else. But this request took you by surprise, she could have gone with Barbara or even Janine, but no, she came to ask you and that made you feel something that you couldn't quite place-"Can I? Please?" - she asked again bringing you to reallity

-"Yes Mel, no problem" - You tried to play it cool even though that made you very exited. She smiled and kissed your forehead

-"Thank you sweetheart" - she whispered, even though her eyes still looked tired, her face seemed more relaxed-"See you later" - she said before going back to her classroom.

At the end of the work day you couldn't stay put because of the excitement you had about she coming to your house, but you tried not to let it show, especially when the redhead started walking next to you to go to your car.

After a short drive filled with class day talk, you parked the car in your garage.

As soon as you entered your house, the redhead let out a sigh of tiredness

-"This shoes are killing me, these clothes are making me so uncomfortable" - she complained looking at your couch- "that looks comfortable...."-she whispered with tired eyes and you laughed

-"My room is upstairs if you want to pick something more confy to wear while I cook..."-you offer and she smiled like a little kid in a candy store almost running upstairs to change.

A few moments latter, the redhead came down using your confy long sleeve fútbol t-shirt and without her boots, only using the big shirt and socks.

Your eyes started at her feet, her purple socks with little flowers were so cute, it made great contrast with the white milky skin of her legs. Her skin looked so soft and perfect, it surprised you how she barely had age marks on them, and you loved how her thighs were so full and had no gap between them. Then your long t-shirt covered the place you had imagined night after night when you felt all hot and bother, but you could still see the shape of her hips because the fabric hug them perfectly, the same with her boobs, she filled that t-shirt so much better than you. When you reached her face, she had a smug smile seeing how long you had stared at her. She looked like pure perfection, it wasn't your fault for staring.

You knew the thing that you and her had wasn't romantic, but every time that you knew something new of her, you couldn't avoid falling deeper for her. You were so fucked. If you were honest with yourself, you had never been attracted to someone as you were attracted to her, she was the perfect mix of mischief, intelligence and beauty. You didn't know if you liked more how witty she was when she spoke or the silence that fill the air every time you had the chance to kiss her.

A sigh left your lips and you forced yourself to take your eyes off her to return to the chesse risotto you were making, she laughed and took the bottle of beer that was next to you, taking a sip without letting go of her arrogant smile

-"That smells amazing" - she rested her chin in your shoulder, hugging your waist and laughed softly when you didn't answer-"The cat got your tongue?" - she pressed her chest on your back

-"That shirt looks good on you... But I don't want to eat my dessert before the meal and ruin my appetite, so stop teasing and wipe out that smug look on your face, go to the couch and pick a movie to watch"- you jocked pretending to be annoyed and she kissed your shoulder laughing before letting you go

-"So bossy" - she said going to the couch putting a depper swing in her hips, sure that you would be watching while she walked away, and she was no wrong.

When the meal was ready, you took two plates to the couch along with two beers, where the redhead was already comfortably curled up in a blanket while watching House wives, looking happily at you and the food.

You didn't know how, but by the time the two of you had already finished what you had made for lunch and the beers you brought, the two of you were snuggled together on the couch, the redhead was sitting on your hips and your hands where on her thighs as you shared wet, slow, deep kisses.

You weren't sure if the TV was playing low in the background or if your heart was beating so hard you couldn't hear the noise properly. The only thing you knew was that you never wanted that moment to end.

Her tongue and yours played softly trying to dominate each other, sometimes even your teeth and hers gently clashed but it was no reason to stop. Her loose hair fell like a waterfall on your face tickling you and the swaying of her hips on yours made you feel butterflies in your stomach. Your curious hands ran over the skin of her legs, slowly getting under that t-shirt she was wearing only to discover more of the warmth of her skin that drove you crazy.

The redhead from time to time let out small angelic moans that made you moan too, it was like when you eat something delicious and you can't help but let out a sound because of how good it is, she was good enough to deserve all the noises of appreciation.

Melissa began to lower her kisses to your jaw until she reached your neck, while her hands played with the buttons of your shirt opening them little by little

-"Mel..."-Your voice was agitated and came out weaker than you wanted-"Are you sure you want this? Because I do want to, but I've heard you say many times how complicated it would get if we started dating..." - You commented scared that she would move away but it was necessary to talk about it before it went further on

-"I'm sure of this, because this doesn't mean that we are dating or anything serious, it's just two grown-up friends having fun, just that, nothing else. No one else has to find out about this, just you and me blowing some steam" - she answer between kisses finally taking your shirt off.

Although you were a little bit hurt by what she said, especially because you hoped that this would mean something more important to her like it was to you, you didn't stop her. You would rather have bits and pieces of love from her, than have nothing at all.

You'd rather have this kind of fun as "friends" than just be real normal friends without having anything else involved.

When your mind stopped scheming and you focused on the present again, you changed positions on the couch. You left the redhead sitting on the cushions and you knelt on the floor in front of her, between her legs, taking off the blouse she was wearing and throwing it away leaving her only in her black underwear.

The contrast of the darkness of her underwear against her almost clear skin made you salivate, you wanted to bite and mark her whole body, make her yours even if that wasn't the case.

After licking your lips trying to control your impulses a little, you kissed her lips again which were a little more swollen than normal and that only made them more delicious. Your hands explored her back playing with the straps of her bra and leaving small scratches with your nails as your lips went down to her abundant breasts, giving kisses and some licks you mapped all over the skin that was exposed. And finally, when your hands detached her bra from the way, your lips connected with her nipples sucking hard, while one of your hands played with the other by twisting and pinching it gently. Melissa let out moans that sounded like a mix of a symphony and a porn movie at the same time. Her hands went to your hair playing with it and making a mess, grabbing it in her hands and gently pulling it whenever your teeth bit into her soft skin. Her back arched gently leaving a perfect space for you to put your arm there and gently lift her off the couch to remove the only piece of clothing she had left, her soaking and ruined panties.

Your hands returned to her breasts while still playing with them, but your lips continued their kisses, going down and making a wet trail down her abdomen to her crotch.

The warmth and aroma that her center radiated made you feel dizzy from desire, specially when you could see how she was literally dripping for you.

-"What a show you are putting for me Mel" - You said aroused grabbing one of her legs and putting her foot supporting on your shoulder, making her knee bend lightly. Your wet lips gently touched her skin, giving soft and went kisses on her thighs while your hand squeezed the outside of her leg, giving a great contrast between your gentle kisses and the roughness in which your hand squeezed her skin.

The redhead dropped her head backwards resting the back of her neck on the couch, closing her eyes while enjoying your caresses. From your point of view, the way her legs were spread, her center dripping, her chest rising agitaded making her boobs bounce a little, her messy hair against the leather of the couch and her relaxed pleasured face, she looked like an angel that came to visit you to earth to make you feel like you were having a piece of heaven in your hands, holding the paradise between your finger tips. If you looked up the description of perfection in the dictionary you were sure you could find a picture of her.

Your soft kisses became some more passionate the closer you got to her center, leaving marks on the inside of her thighs where there was no risk of someone else finding them. When you finally got your face in front of her crotch you could feel how you literally started salivating for her. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes to enhance your other senses, slightly sticking out the tip of your tongue and slowly running over her outer lips until you reached almost her center dripping, but instead of coming in, you stuck your tongue out a little bit more and went back up parting her outer lips until you reached her clit, licking it in gentle circles.

The redhead's hands gripped your hair tightly again and moved her hips against your face gently, rocking back and forward making the leather of your couch squeak. Your fingers joined the work your tongue was doing and began to play gently at her entrance, filling them with her juices and moistening them completely even though you hadn't yet delved into her. Your lips formed an "o" shape and you began to suck on that pleasure button that was becoming more and more swollen and sensitive. Melissa began to let out more desperate sounds and move her hips against your face with less and less control each time.

When two of your fingers finally got into her, her back immediately arched putting more pressure on your shoulder with her leg and almost completely lifting her hips off the couch, giving you a new angle at which your fingers could enter her more deeply and comfortably.

The way her walls hugged your fingers made you moan with pleasure, the way she clenched only because of you, was something you weren't expecting to feel that good, to make her feel that good.

-"If you stop now I will... I will kill you" - she said between heavy breathings and desperate moans. You wanted to reply but your mouth was too busy tasting her heavily juices to stop now.

When you added one more finger you began to feel a little difficulty with following the pace you were taking before since her walls were getting tighter and tighter around you. Her hands pressed you more closer against her center and she ride your face faster.

At the moment you started to lick her whole pussy with your tongue flattened against her and then going back to her clit to play in circles while your fingers where still plunging inside her, her body began to shake and she came in your hand without more warnings.

Your movements continued a little longer until she slumped against the couch with her body completely relaxed and an angelic smile. You decided to clean her with your tongue enjoying a little more the unique flavor of her juices, kissing every part of her body until you returned to her face and kissed her lips softly making her moan still numb and gone for the strong orgasm

-"You are good" - she said smiling dizzy "My turn now" - she smiled mischievously kissing you again.

That kind of cardio continued for many rounds more until you two couldn't take it anymore and decide to cuddle on the couch under your blanket.

When you were about to fall asleep with her body on top of yours, her phone rang with a message notification, she sat on your hips grabbing her phone and laughing lightly

-"Jacob says that the house is empty now..."-she said to you and felt a little bit sad thinking she would like to go back to her house to sleep now that the fucking part was over, but instead of that, she turned off the phone and got confortable on top of you hiding in your neck ready to sleep without saying another word.

After that, nigths like that happened a lot more often, nights in where she would stay at your house after a sheared dinner and sex or you would stay in hers if Jacob wasn't there to see you arrive.

More months began to pass, more months sharing passionate nights together, more times hearing "this nights are only something physical since something romantic would complicate things because we are co-workers", more months working at Abbot and more months falling more deeply in love with her hoping that one day she would finally stopped using that silly coworkers excuse.

After working there for almost a year, Janine decided to come back and make your work as a substitute come to an end. But thank heavens you quickly got an offer in a new place, which opened your life to new possibilities.

Those new possibilities made you realize that maybe now you could have something that you always wanted...

-"What is going on sweetheart? You seem distracted" - The redhead asked when she realized that you were not paying attention to the movie or her

-"I... I got a new job offer now that my sub time ended at Abbot" - You said still hugging her while you two watched a movie at her house, she smiled looking at you very happily

-"That's great! Congratulations" - she hugged you and you signed - "You don't look happy with that... What happened?" - she asked again, worried

-"I'm happy with the job, don't get me wrong... But something was going through my mind... I was wondering... Maybe now that we won't work together anymore, things will be less complicated if we decide to officially date... You know, like girlfriends?" - You said hopefully and she stoped smiling

-"Oh kiddo... That's... I don't... That's not what I'm looking for right now... I just wanted to have a little of fun... But if that has became a problem for you, maybe we can stay being only friends now that we won't see each other so often?" - she tried to play it cool and you frowned

-"Friends?... When have we been just friends?"-you asked and she smiled softly

-"Always? You are a great friend to me... This is fun and all but I don't see you like anything more than a friend right now..." - she repeated and you started to feel a little bit angry and sad

-"So every time that you told me that we couldn't be together because would become a problem, professionally talking, was all a lie to keep me entertained? You just didn't wanted to be with me at all and you used that as an excuse?" - You asked hurt and she started to get nervous

-"I... Just... I thought... "-She stuttered

-"I have seen the way you look at me Melissa, you can't say that's it's how you look at a friend" - You replied hopefully waiting for her to realize that she has feelings for you

-"I... I look like that to the people I care about... Like Barb, that doesn't mean I want to date her" - she was quick to think and answer to ease you

-"You don't fuck with Barbara" - You said angrily- "You can't tell me you don't feel anything after 7 months fucking and slepping together Mel..."-you said, hopefully trying to making her realized

-"I appreciate you... But just as a good friend..."-she repeated AGAIN and you rolled your eyes

-"Do you remember that first night at the bar? From that first moment I knew that you and I had a connection and I know you felt it too... When the night was over, it was like if your face was tattooed on my soul, in a single dance I gave you my life and I began to miss you as if I had known you for years...You can't ask me to settle with being only friends when we have never been friends Mel... From moment one we were something more and you know it."-you tried to stay strong, but every passing moment made you feel a bigger lump at your troat and you felt like the waterfalls wanted to scape from your eyes

-"I'm scared of breaking our friendship if this doesn't work" - she kept putting up new excuses making you feel more sad

-"You are scared of breaking a friendship that doesn't exist, we have never been friends Melissa, from the moment one that we met, we started kissing and fucking each other, that's not how friendships start, that's not part of friendships at all. You can't put me in the friendzone because I have never been your friend... I can't be your friend when I want to be everything for you"-You whispered very weakly trying not to avoid her gaze

-"I'm sorry sweetheart... But I don't feel the same" - she said sadly and you got up from the couch holding your tears for dear life-"Wait, what are you doing?" - she asked scared

-"I'm going to my home... I can't be near you, not anymore, it hurts. I'm sorry" - You grabbed your jacket and she quickly stood up following you

-"Hey, the fact that I don't want a romantic relationship it's not reason to leave" - she whispered trying not to grab your hand and forcing you to stay

-"The fact that we don't want the same thing is reason enough to leave... I'm sorry Mel but I can't be your friend... I hope one day you feel the same love that I feel about you, I hope one day you feel it too, even if it's for someone else and not for me," - You said closing the door behind you, leaving the redhead with an emptiness and cold she was no expecting, leaving the best part of your heart and hopes there and taking the rest in peaces. Wishing that cupid would take pity on your sad soul and touch the redhead's heart so that she would come out after you, telling you that she didn't want to lose you and that she loved you too, but cupid would have to be an expert in anatomy to aim for a heart that doesn't exists.

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary fanfic #abott elementary #abott elementary fanfic #lissa ann walter #lesbian #lisa ann walter fanfic #pinkthrone445 #abbot elementary #melissa schemmenti abott elementary #melissa schemmenti smut #melissa ann schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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magics-neptunes-things · 14 days ago

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Mockingjay - Part 8

Hi guys!

I'm sorry for the wait, I know that usually I give you the chapter on Friday, but I wasn't able to yesterday.

This one is a little darker, please be aware of that while reading it.

TW : Death, blood, injuries, grief.

Chapter before

Ona wakes up abruptly, a hand coming suddenly on her mouth to prevent her from shouting. She still is in the tree where she fell asleep a little earlier, while Teagan was supposed to stand guard. But it’s not him who is looking at Ona with undisguised anger.

It’s Lucy.

Eyes widened; Ona tries to move but Lucy doesn’t let her.

“What’s happening?” Ona whispers, Lucy’s hand always on her mouth.

“Did you kill him?” Lucy whispers-shout.

“What?”

Lucy’s voice is low, full of an anger that Ona doesn’t understand. Just like she doesn’t understand why Lucy is talking about. Ona tries to read more in Lucy’s eyes, but she can’t.

“What are you talking about?” the younger one finally says.

“Declan. Did you kill him?”

“What?” Ona frowns. “No, of course not.”

Lucy is still looking at her, but she finally removes her hand from Ona’s mouth. The latter takes advantage of it to look around them, looking for Teagan. But the young boy is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Teagan?” Ona asks.

But it doesn’t seem to be Lucy’s first interest. She seems so angry; Ona never saw her like this. She won’t say that she’s scared, but she’s definitely impressive like that. The situation is really mind blowing for Ona. She wanted so much to see Lucy one more time, but not like this.

“At the place where the Games began, there is a scoreboard. It says that you killed someone. If it wasn’t Declan, who was it?”

“The boy from the 5” Ona mumbles, not really wanting to remember that awful moment. “He was chasing Teagan at first and then he came back for us. I – I didn’t have any choice.”

Ona shivers and it has nothing to do with the cold. It is cold actually, but with the hoodie she’s wearing and the habit of the temperature, she was okay like this.

Lucy seems to think about Ona’s answer, looking at her while squinting her eyes. She seems furious. Ona can understand because she was pretty close to Declan, but there is no world where Ona could kill him.

“If it’s not you, who was it?”

Ona rolls her eyes and crosses her arms on her chest. Now that the surprise is passed, she has trouble keeping up with the way Lucy is talking to her.

“Your two girlfriends. He was with them at the lake, right? They pushed him in the water. I don’t know what is really inside the water, but he died almost immediately. Then there was this strange fog coming from the lake and I think it’s what killed Lilith too. I was in a house in the city with Teagan, we had time to run away. They were closer to the lake; Lilith didn’t get that chance. I guess Kayla didn’t explain things like this?”

When Lucy always seems to hesitate, Ona stands up a little bit more to face her. She doesn’t know what happened to Lucy for her to have doubts about her like that, but Ona doesn’t like it.

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t you look at the scoreboard? I’m pretty sure you know everything your friends do, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t show the score from the death’s people.”

“How convenient” Ona snorts.

They look at each other for several seconds. Ona feels sad and angry at the same time. She wanted to see Lucy one more time to have a good memory of her, not a fight about something like this.

“Who told you I killed Declan?” Ona asks finally.

“Kayla” Lucy answers only.

Kayla, or the only one of the trios from the lake who survived. It made Ona roll her eyes at the thought. Of course, it’s easier to accuse someone else of her betrayal. It makes Ona sick that Lucy chose to believe Kayla and not her.

She doesn’t know why Kayla was accusing her, though.

“Why would she say that?” Ona frowns softly.

“That is exactly my point.”

That icy tone, again. Ona bites her lips, not knowing what to answer to that. But she doesn’t look away when Lucy looks at her right in the eyes.

“Where is Teagan?” Ona asks again.

“He went to the river for some water. He’s not a very good guard if you want my opinion.”

“At least he believes me” Ona points out.

Lucy opens her mouth to answer but that is at this very moment that they hear someone walking in their direction. Ona could now recognize Teagan’s footsteps easily. She wanted to tell Lucy that it was him, but the older girl hurries to get out of her tree.

“Lucy!” Ona whispers.

She doesn’t hear Lucy’s answer or if she does, she even can’t see her since she jumps off the tree. Ona feels her heart breaking. This talk was worse than anything else in the world. She just has time to recompose her poker face when Teagan arrives.

“Where were you?” Ona asks him.

“I was thirsty. I didn’t think you’d wake up”

“You can’t leave like that” Ona answers maybe a little too harshly. “What if something happens to you and I’m not here?”

“I’m sorry?”

He seems a little surprised by Ona outburst, and the brunette takes a deep breath to calm herself. Teagan isn’t the reason for her fight with Lucy, he doesn’t have to deal with Ona’s bad mood.

“No, I’m sorry” Ona sighs softly. “Just tell me when you leave, okay?”

The young boy nods softly, smiling shyly at Ona. The girl smiles back at him, before looking at the sky. She is bored sitting on that tree to be honest, even if she knows it was what they decided with Alexia. But she doesn’t even know all the arena, even if Teagan gave her some information about it.

“I was thinking that we can make a reserve of food and water and go to the desert, what do you think? They won’t come to look for us there.”

After all, who can say to Ona that Lucy won’t come back with the other tributes? She’s not sure about anything anymore. She doesn’t want to explain to Teagan why she proposes that, but the boy seems happy about that idea. He proposes to go pick up some fruits while Ona goes for more water.

They even take some wood, with the lighter they found and the pan, they are even able to boil some water just in case. Without a second thought, they leave their tree to start walking towards the desert.

“I’m not sure that the starting point will be safe” Ona thinks out loud after several minutes. “Maybe we should take a detour”

Teagan doesn’t discuss this and follows Ona when she decides to stay close to the river during the walk. Lucy went to the starting point; she told her some hours before. Maybe it’s where she is now staying with her teammates. She wonders how many people Seth and Camden have killed since the beginning of the Games.

“Have you heard that?”

Ona frowns and turns in Teagan’s direction. She stops walking, trying to hear what Tegan might have heard.

“Wolves” she whispers after having heard them. “Let’s not stay here, come on.”

Even if she would rather cross the path of a wolf than Camden, she still wants to live as long as possible. They are not close to the mountain or even the snow, but after all no one can force wolves to stay where they are supposed to be. Plus, they might be hungry after several days.

“They seem close” Teagan mumbles, saying out loud what Ona didn’t want to think about.

“It’s okay. When we will be in the desert, they won’t follow us.”

She still walks a little faster though, her ears are attentive to any suspicious noise. Now she’s careful about human and animal sounds. Ona just really hopes that she won’t have to fight against snake or aggressive camels in the desert.

They were out of the forest now. Ona can see the buildings where they start the Games several days before from here. It’s just a long plain now, grass as far as the eye can see. Until she’s finally able to see what looks like some sand after. The bad news is that there is a big land dip between the grass and the sand.

The river falls into it, but Ona can’t hear the sound of the water falling in a lake below or even on the ground. The height must be appalling.

“We need to find a way to cross it” Teagan says.

Ona nods and looks around, but she doesn’t see anything who might help them. No bridge, no branch long enough to go on the other side.

“How deep is that hole?” Teagan asks, leaning a little to have a better view.

“Want to go see it by yourself?”

The male’s voice makes them both turn around and Ona feels her stomach drop. Camden and Seth are in front of them, both looking very scary. Camden has one of his knees hidden behind a big home-made bandage. It’s bloody. Ona doesn’t know who hurt him, but it doesn’t look good.

Just like their life right now.

In an instinctive way, Ona puts her arm in front of Tegan to make him go behind her. She knows it will be hard for her to protect him. Unlike last time, there isn’t any tree for her to hide him.

“Who hurted you, Sweetheart?” Seth asks, coming closer to Ona acting like he wants to touch her face.

“Go away” Ona grumbles, making a move to avoid his touch.

She looks for the knife attached to her backpack, taking it in her hand. She still knows she doesn’t have any chance, especially with two of them in front of her. But she still can hurt them too, making it easier for anyone else to kill them.

Maybe Lucy. By the way, where is she now? Did they kill her?

Her panic quickly goes down again when she reminds herself that she hasn’t heard any canon for a long time now. The last time it was when she killed that boy. She probably is alright.

“Are you really getting ready to fight?” Camden chuckles.

But Ona doesn’t answer. She looks at them with attention, ready to fight the first one who will try his chance. The worst possibility is that they both attack her at the same time, she doesn’t know she’s supposed to escape them in that case.

Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened. They just share a look at one point and run towards Ona and Teagan. It’s the kind of move and understanding coming after having trained it several times.

Teagan screams but Ona doesn’t say anything. Both men are fighting with their bare hands, even if Ona saw that they have weapons. Apparently, they don’t seem to think that they will need it to fight.

She’s not afraid about using her knife herself, protecting Teagan and herself as much as she can. She knows she can’t kill them, but if she hurts them enough, maybe they will have time to run away. Camden is the weaker one because of his injury, so Ona concentrates her attacks on him.

At some point, Teagan manages to escape the brawl, crawling to the backpacks Seth and Camden left on the floor.

But Seth sees him.

“Hey! He’s taking your hammer!” he shouts to Camden.

The boy turns around to look and Ona takes advantage of it to hit him on his injured knee with her knife. Hard.

“Teagan, run!” Ona shouts to the boy, over Camden’s howling of pain.

The hammer makes a metallic sound when Teagan lets it fall on the ground. It must be heavy. Enraged, Camden gives her a massive kick in her stomach while Seth chases Teagan. The hit cuts off Ona’s breath, preventing her from getting up.

Between Camden’s legs, she can see Teagan running, but it looks like he’s coming closer to them again. Ona doesn’t understand his move, until she sees him jumping on Camden’s back. He manages to make him fall, sadly on Ona. Ona can’t retain a whimper of pain.

“Enough! Throw them on the cliff!”

Seth is near them again. He seems to have had enough of this fight, maybe a little ashamed to have been threatened by a girl and a child.

After that, this is a mess of arms, kicks and shouts. Ona and Teagan are fighting for their life.

“Ona!”

Ona can hear Lucy’s voice and her head turns in the direction of the sound automatically. She’s even able to see her for half of a second before being thrown into the void, Teagan next to her.

“No!”

Lucy’s scream would probably have emotionalized every single person on earth, but it’s not Ona’s important point for now.

Ona managed to clutch at a root, several metres from the surface. Teagan didn’t have that chance. Grief burns her throat, and she has tears in her eyes, preventing her from seeing properly.

Her arms are burning too. After all those days without having eaten and slept enough, she doesn’t have the same strength as before.

There are grunts and noise of fights under Ona’s head. It seems like Lucy forgot all the thoughts she has about keeping herself safe with her alliance. Ona tries to ease the burning of her arms and shoulders by pushing on her legs, but the walls are dusty and the more she tries, the more pebbles and sand are falling under her.

She doesn’t want to give up though, wanting to catch Lucy when she falls. And maybe help her to reach the surface again.

But it surprisingly isn’t Lucy who falls almost two metres away from her. It’s Seth. Ona froze, looking at his body falling until she couldn’t see him anymore. Soon after, there are two shots of cannon.

One for Seth.

One for Teagan.

“Right, run away to your lying bitch, asshole!”

Lucy’s voice is shaking with what Ona thinks is anger. Ona wants to call the other girl, but she doesn’t have the strength to. She’s not even sure that Lucy is still here anyway.

At least she was able to see her one more time, Ona thinks. And she wasn’t angry this time. Closing her eyes, Ona let her forehead go against the wall. She knows she won’t last long. She just wants to visualise Lucy’s face one more time.

Lucy doesn’t know what pushed her to have a look at the cliff. She didn't realise that there were only two shots of cannon, not three. All she knows is that when she sees Ona, she feels like her heart is starting to beat again.

“Ona” she whispers at first, falling on her knees to see her better before getting into action again. “Ona!” she calls a little harder, not wanting to scare the other girl anyway.

They share a look when Ona raises her hand in her direction and Lucy can say that Ona doesn’t have any strength left.

“Okay, hold on. Hold on, please.”

She doesn’t let Ona answer anything before running to Seth and Camden’s backpack. She knows what is inside, but she doesn’t waste any time, she just flips them upside down to grab the rope she was looking for.

Lucy then runs to the cliff, terrified at the idea of Ona being not here anymore. She is barely holding it. But she is.

“Grab it” Lucy instructs, throwing a part of the rope to Ona.

The younger one wraps it around one of her arms, ignoring the burning against her skin. With her other arm, she grabs it and looks up again.

She can’t see Lucy anymore, but she can feel how much strength she’s putting in the effort to take her on the surface again. Ona feels like it’s taking an eternity and she’s pretty sure that she can feel Lucy’s strength getting low. Just when she wanted to tell her to just let her go, Ona can see grass again.

Ona lets go of the rope with one hand, grabbing the grass and the dirt while she pushes on the wall with her legs. The hope gives her suddenly more strength. With a last combined effort, Lucy and Ona manage to put Ona in security again. Or at least on the ground.

Lying on the ground, Ona tries to take her breath. The sky is grey under their head, and she doesn’t know if her breathing is hard because of Teagan’s death or the efforts she just put her body in.

“We need to move” Ona hears Lucy say. “I’m pretty sure Camden will come back with Kayla. I should have killed her earlier, why was I so stupid!”

While Ona sits, Lucy puts all the things she thinks they will need into a backpack. Teagan’s one having fallen with him.

“Can you walk?”

Ona can see Lucy’s concern in her eyes. She feels out of it, like if her head isn’t with her body anymore. Ona gets up, trying to ignore how her head spins at the movement. She doesn’t even realise that she’s falling, until Lucy catches her, passing her arm around her waist.

“Okay, we’re going to do things in another way.”

Ona looks at Lucy putting a bag on her stomach, before putting the other on Ona's back. Then she makes Ona climb on her back and starts to walk.

“Lucy…” Ona whispers, rocked by Lucy's quick walk.

“Sh. Just take deep breaths and don’t fall asleep, okay?”

Ona just hums, letting her head go into Lucy’s neck. Not falling asleep is harder than she thought. She feels lulled by Lucy’s movements and her scent.

At some point, Ona feels better enough to let the guilt be too big to let Lucy carry her like this for any longer. She kisses Lucy’s neck, smiling softly when she feels the goosebumps under her lips.

“I can walk” Ona finally says.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah”

Lucy stops to slowly put Ona on the ground again. She looks at her closely, looking at any sign that Ona wasn’t feeling good. But Ona does, or at least as much as she can with her injuries.

“Where are we going?”

Ona doesn’t recognize that part of the arena, she never came here before.

“To the mountain. If we get higher, we can see them better.”

Ona nods and lets Lucy grab her hand before starting to walk again. She loses track of time, only concentrating on not falling on a rock. And Lucy’s warm hand in hers. At some point, it starts snowing and Lucy takes them into a cave.

“I saw you had wood in your bag, I’m going to make a fire, okay?”

Ona nods. Lucy choses a part of the cave hidden from the enter, to avoid the wind. And Ona realises it a little later, not to be seen by someone else. Ona just stays here, looking at the light from the fire on the walls. She realises that she’s crying only when Lucy sits next to her.

Lucy puts her hand softly on Ona’s back and it’s enough for the younger one to break.

“I wanted to save him. I just couldn’t” she chokes between tears and sobs.

Teagan’s death is hard to reach for Ona. They spend almost all their time together in the arena. She knew they had only little chance, but in her head, Teagan always would outlive her. She imagined that she would give her life for him.

“Hey now, you did everything you could to save him. You saved him several times before today.”

Lucy’s voice is soft, softer than she ever was.

“It wasn’t enough” Ona whispers through her tears.

“It’s okay” Lucy whispers.

Lucy passes both of her arms around Ona waist, taking her against her to rock her softly. Ona doesn’t really understand the sweet nothing Lucy whispers into her ears while comforting her, to be honest. But Lucy’s voice is enough.

“I’m sorry I arrived too late to save you both” Lucy says at some point, when Ona stops crying. “I thought I was too late for you too”

Her voice is only a whisper now, barely stronger than the crackling of the fire in front of them.

“But then I saw you grabbing this root… I was never as relieved as at that moment. I thought I lost you forever.”

Ona sniffles and raises her head to look at Lucy. Until now she had her head on her shoulder, her eyes lost somewhere on the fire. She must look awful but Lucy cups her cheek with the most tender gesture ever and uses her thumb to wipe Ona’s tears.

“Even if I were dead, you wouldn’t have lost me.” Ona whispers.

Into Lucy’s eyes, Ona forgets everything. She forgets her injuries, her stomach who hurts like crazy. The grief of Teagan’s death and the fact that they now have mortal enemies, probably looking for them everywhere.

“My parents aren’t okay with me being gay” Lucy blurts suddenly. “That is why Jorge was the only one who came to say goodbye. They were ashamed of me being their daughter.”

“How can someone be ashamed of you?” Ona thinks out loud, before shaking her head softly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I’m going to kiss you.”

And she does. They haven’t kissed for days now, the last time it was before the Games. The kiss is tentative, Lucy’s hand always on Ona’s cheek. But it’s enough to make Ona melts.

Ona presses her body against Lucy after several seconds, but the pain of her injuries are waking up. She can’t help but groan in pain, making Lucy let go of her very quickly.

“It’s nothing” Ona assures when she crosses Lucy’s panicked eyes. “I think I have some bruises somewhere.”

After that, Lucy looks closely at Ona for the first time. She already had seen her face and eyes injured earlier, when they talked in the tree. But now she can see the burns on Ona’s arms, where the rope was.

And of course, Ona took some violent kicks from her fight with Camden and Seth.

“I saw that you had some cream in your backpack, could they be used to those injuries?” Lucy asks.

“I don’t know. I received it from the sponsors, after my face’s injury.”

Lucy hums, reaching for it. Ona gives it to her, looking at Lucy who sniffs it.

“Mh. Maybe we will use it just to your face, just in case.”

Ona nods. She doesn’t want to die because she puts the wrong cream at the wrong place on her body. She wanted to take it back from Lucy’s hand, but the dark-haired girl hides it behind her back.

“Close your eyes” she says.

Ona rolls her eyes and obliges, letting Lucy put the cream on her face. She is soft and tender, and Ona feels her body relax a little bit at the touch. She could sleep right now.

“Who hurts you like this?”

It reminds Ona about Seth’s question earlier, but this time there is no fun behind it. It’s just genuine concern.

“The boy from the 5. I can’t remember his name.”

“Is he the one you killed?”

“Yeah”

Lucy stays silent after this, still taking care of Ona. She insists on seeing Ona’s other injuries, making the girl roll her eyes again. Lucy cleans Ona’s burning on her hand and puts some cold water on her stomach, where she got kicked by Camden.

“Now sleep” Lucy finally says when she’s fine with the care she gave to Ona.

Ona frowns and opens her mouth to talk, but Lucy silences her by putting a finger on her lips.

“Sleep. I’ll take care of you.”

“Wake me up in four hours if I’m still asleep” Ona asks.

“Sure” Lucy snorts.

She won’t do it; they both know it already. But Lucy only has to stroke Ona’s hair for two minutes before the girl is out of the world, feeling really safe for the first time since she left her District.

“This is the first time we are sleeping together” Ona mumbles into Lucy’s knee when she snuggles against her.

Lucy hums, still stroking Ona’s hair. She has a lot to ask to Ona, just like Ona probably has a lot to ask at her. They will talk tomorrow. Tomorrow it will be them against the rest of the world, but for now, Ona needs to rest.

Next Chapter

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy and ona #lucy bronze imagine #woso x hunger games

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nicksbestie · 7 months ago

Text

i know it won't work - C. Sturniolo

Summary : "part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that"

Warnings : very angsty. crying, heartbreak, yk the drill. nothing triggering though!

Word Count : 1000

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (past romantic)

A/N : i was listening to this song in the car this morning, and boom here comes this fic idea!

You regretted ever moving to Boston.

You hated the city, hated who it reminded you of. You couldn’t leave your house without feeling trapped in the space that you had once adored to travel with the person you had loved with your entire heart. If you had the money, you would have moved far away by now. All you could do was be so grateful that the two of you hadn’t moved in together, because you would have actually had to leave. As much as you hated that you were still here, leaving would have torn the pieces you were already in right into shreds.

You sat in front of the empty closet in your guest room, tears rolling down your face as you processed that it would stay empty for a long time. You couldn’t bring yourself to fill it, wanting it to stay empty just on the off chance that he came back, that he needed someone, somewhere to stay, somewhere to put his things. If he needed space that he could only find in your home, you would have space for him. He could inhabit that space for as long as he wanted, as he inhabited your heart still, living in it despite how tightly it was clenching in pain, as if to squeeze him out.

You couldn’t bear the thought that he might never come back, that you really may never see him again, that you might not get to love him again like you used to. How could you bring yourself to deal with the idea that this might be it? Your number wasn’t blocked, but it seemed like he couldn’t find a way to softly tell you that there was no chance he was coming back, so he simply left all of your texts on delivered. Despite how heartbroken you were, you knew there was no way that you could go back to loving him in a non romantic way. There were two ends of the spectrum, and you knew that you would either love him endlessly, or hate him relentlessly. You hoped it never came to be the latter.

Chris knew you were still waiting on him. He knew you were hoping he would change his mind, that he would turn around and run back to him, and the breakup was killing him as well. He couldn’t lie to himself like he could to you, he had thought about going back. He had thought about claiming it was all a lapse in judgment, that he still loved you with everything in him, but he worried that he wasn’t worth all of the hope you were saving for him. He’d paced around his room so much that he had nearly worn holes in the floor, and even his brothers had begged him to fix things, but he just couldn’t do it. He really did believe that this was the best move for the both of you, but he couldn’t deny the doubt creeping into the back of his mind. After all, it had been a long relationship, one spanning just over five years. How could he just let that go?

You’d run into each other in a store, and you’d both seen your face on the other person’s. The dark under eye circles, the bloodshot eyes, the signs of sadness sinking into your bones. Neither of you could speak to the other one, simply staring before Chris broke the eye contact, walking away. It killed you to look into his eyes knowing that he clearly didn’t want you back, an opinion so different from how you felt. You didn’t know that he did want you back, desperately, but was trying to make it easier for you by cutting things off. He wished that you would find someone else, that you’d put yourself out there, because seeing you with someone else might help him snap back into reality, help him get over it as well.

He was torn. He knew you were still holding on to him, and part of him wanted you to let go, wanted you to move on, to love someone who wasn’t him, but the other part of him wanted to shrivel up and die at just the thought of your arms around anyone who wasn’t him, your lips on anyone else’s skin. But it would make it easier for him to realize that you really weren’t his anymore, and maybe that was just what he needed. Maybe. He had broken up with you in person, knowing that he owed you at least that, but the call to you to ask when he could come pick up his things from your place had been one of the hardest calls you’d ever received. The ghost of your relationship being inside your apartment had made the entire building feel haunted.

He knew he was being an idiot, but he wanted to think that his heart was in the right place. Both of his brothers knew he was being an idiot, to the point that Nick showed up to talk to you, and Matt was talking to Chris, desperately trying to fix things between the two of you. The conversation between you and Nick just ended up with you sobbing in his arms, him trying to convince you that it would be okay, that Chris loved you, that he would realize and he would come back. The one between Matt and Chris wasn’t going much better, Chris having angry tears streaming down his face, trying to convince Matt and himself that it was for the best.

“It isn’t going to work.”

“Make it work.”

You were in Nick’s arms, silent, enjoying the comfort but hating why you needed it, when your phone dinged from behind you. Nick picked it up, checking who it was before nudging you.

“Here. You want to read this.”

Chris <3 : I know I tried to cut all ties but you’ve never left my mind. Can we make this work?

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ymechi · 1 year ago

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Who is the real Creator?

-TW: cult, yandere, impostor au, mentions of hunt

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

plot idea (This was inspired by another post but i can't find it ToT):

Reader is friends with Darling. Sometimes Reader helps Darling with dailies, grinding and building the characters.

Somehow reader ends up in Genshin Impact but it's in Darlings world.

Reader is mistaken as an entity that is trying to take over and harm Darling as they have been controlled by Reader before and do not like it.

The Reader is hunted down and shunned it all comes to a stop once Darling descends and stops the hunt. Misunderstandings are cleared and Reader is finally safe from the crazy Acolytes.

All should be fine now except it was the Reader who created Darling's account and gave it to them.

This is part 1, Part 2, part 3, part 4

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

Reader wiped the sweat on their forehead with the sleeve of their robe. The Sumeru weather was rather hot this midday as the sun was at its peak. With nothing better to do Reader decided to dust off the front of their house.

It was more akin to the size of a cabin and rather isolated yet Reader loved it as it gave them the privacy and security of four sturdy walls. A place entirely of their own *they could control* and it was far enough they did not have to suffer the company of people.

Reader was rather thankful for the Dendro archon to gift them this place.

After what they have been through it was more than deserved, no?

They did not really know what to think of Nahida. On one hand, she had not tried to kill them or hurt them, she was one of the few people who did listen to their side. On the other hand, she was an archon and Reader's experience with the other was not. . . They had no words to describe it. It was plainly a negative horrible experience that still haunted Reader as they slept at night. Their only solace was that the mess of the events that happened months ago was over and that they were a Free person once again.

It does not help that occasionally the archon would give them an intense blank stare that did not suit her young face. Whenever she stared at them like that Reader wanted to bolt through the nearest exit but the stare was gone as quickly as it came.

Reader continued to dust off the porch collecting the dust and dead leaves on a pile they had left the dustpan inside of the house. Just when they were about to head inside to grab it they saw two familiar figures. There was no doubt that the floating figure and golden hair belonged to the Traveler and Paimon, the latter already giving a wave.

Reader gave a small smile and returned the wave.

"Reader! Long time no see how have you been?" said Paimon.

"Hi Traveller, Hi Paimon sorry you had to come and see this mess, I have been fine hopefully you guys kept out of trouble?"

Paimon answered with a sheepish smile.

The Traveler greeted them and Reader ushered both of them inside the house towards the kitchen and made them sit while they prepared some tea.

"It looks like you settled in nicely Paimon is happy for you Reader."

"Thank you Paimon, yeah it's been really nice here."

Reader put the kettle on the stove and almost forgot how to be a proper host.

"Oh right, I have some leftover cookies! Let me grab that."

"You don't have to overexert yourself Reader," said the Traveler with a gentle smile.

"No- no it's fine I was trying a recipe the other day and I made too much, you guys have to eat it all by the way or else it's rude"

"Well, then we would be bad guests if we don't eat right traveler?"

The traveler did not reply and gave his floating companion a deadpan expression. It was rather amusing to see how to see in real life rather than the game - this is not a game anymore stop that.

Eventually they bought over the cookies and poured the tea. Reader was rather proud of themselves for once. Paimon did not hesitate to dig in and they were rather delighted that their cookies were being enjoyed. The Traveler sipped his tea calmly. Reader smiled and blew on the hot tea before also drinking it.

"I see you have been reading about the history of this world?"

"Yeah it gets rather boring just cleaning here, the Dendro Archon dropped by and gave me some books, she's smart since I don't really know much about this world."

"Yeah! Despite looking so young Nahida is really perceptive and wise, Paimon is kind of jealous."

Aether looked at his companion with a playful look and Reader knew he was about to tease his companion. They tried to hide a smile behind the teacup as they took a sip.

"Ohh! Paimon almost forgot! Darling asked us to deliver a letter!"

Reader's smile tensed a little. Aether's previous playful look was gone and he looked at them with concern. Reader held the teacup more harshly than necessary. It was fine they did not need to be babied. They gave Aether what they hoped was a reassuring smile.

Reader was still confused about how to behave around Darling. That person was their best friend, they had been friends since before Reader could remember and all the way to adulthood sharing an apartment. Yet knowing that the person you trusted the most was behind your suffering, even indirectly? It hurt like shit. Reader could not even meet Darling properly since one of their cursed "acolyte" or whatever the hell they called themselves always trailed behind Darling and Reader refused to be near any of those acolytes who actively tried to kill them before. So both were at an awkward standstill.

Isn't it supposed to be bros before hoes? What the hell Darling.

Paimon gave them the letter and Reader tried to thank them without sounding off.

Looking at the letter Reader wanted to scoff, what were they a 1800s paramour?

They looked at Aether they did not want to be rude and read the letter while they were in a conversation. Reader thought it would be the equivalent of reading chat messages while in front of friends, which was impolite. Aether gave them a smile and a nod, and Reader felt a bit at ease.

They opened the letter.

Huh.

They were a little taken aback by how normal this letter was. Reader looked up and Paimon was looking at them rather curiously but tried to hide it by staring at her tea.

"Darling says they are a bit overwhelmed being the creator and all otherwise they are fine it seems."

"Ohh Paimon would bet it would be super stressful taking the position of the creator like that, Alhaitham was so busy as acting grand sage," she brings a hand to her head mimicking it as if it was heavy, "Paimon imagines there is a lot of paperwork."

Reader laughs, it was nice to hear Paimon light-hearted take.

"Yeah Darling mentions that."

Reader does not mention the worries of their friend(?) in the letter or their stress that is something private between them. Things change yet Darling still confides in them Reader is not sure how to feel about that as they sip their tea.

The rest of the day goes smoothly as they all converse about Paimon and the Traveller's adventures in the newest nation, soon it was time to say goodbye and Reader did it with a smile.

"Come on where did I put it?"

Reader said in a frustrated tone as they barrage through the books on their shelves. They know they had the book somewhere for the class. The professor on that topic was someone who always made snide comments on the failure of students and whatnot and Reader did not want to have to deal with that.

"I hope I did not come at the wrong time?"

"Lord Kusanali! I did not see you there, sorry for the mess."

It felt like deja vu when the Reader said that, remembering the time the Traveler came to visit them.

Nahida smiled and shook her head. From the open door they could see Wanderer standing outside. He looked a bit grumpy then again he usually always looked grumpy, a shame for someone with such a beautiful face.

"Please call me Nahida Reader I like to think we know each other well enough now."

Reader gave Nahida a sheepish smile and wrung their hands together it was a nervous tic.

"Sorry everyone calls you that or well Dendro Archon I did not want to disrespect you I sort of owe you a lot"

"No it is we who owe you a debt -," She looked rather sad, and seeing Reader's expression she changed topic rather quickly, "I came to talk about your recent activities I am very happy to see you being more active and joining classes."

"Ohh, Thank you," Reader paused a bit before answering, "I used to be a student. . . before I came here so it's nice having something familiar."

Nahida looked at Reader with a beam and they continued to talk about the classes Reader took and whatever they taught about officially joining a darshan. As Reader turned around briefly they missed the glossy and contemplative look the Archon gave them.

They finally found their book and with the Archon (and Wanderer) in tow headed towards the Akademiya. Turns out they did not need to find the book the moment the professor saw the tiny Archon he went pale faced and Reader had to hide a smile. Wanderer was not so subtle as he loudly snickered.

It's been so long I hope you are doing okay I do miss you. . .

Reader folded the letter and looked out the window. The night skies here were clear no city lights and pollution that distorted the view. The stars shined without care, Reader felt a sudden chill and headed towards bed covering themselves in the blankets. They still looked out towards the sky.

"Miss. . . I guess I do miss you."

After everything was said and done Reader laid in the bed alone in the infirmary. There was a nurse and a doctor and whenever they came Reader would shake like a flame about to be put out easily by a gust of wind. They could not handle human interaction anymore. Once Darling came they were alone. Darling had cried and Reader had cried before an acolyte Came over and Reader looked at Darling horrified.

Why was Darling with those psychopaths did they not know what they were capable of? They might hurt Darling she needed to get away-

Reader must have gone into hysterics because soon the nurse came and injected them with something.

It was later told to them by the Dendro Archon herself in person that Darling was the creator. The cause of the hunt was because of Darling their childhood best friend.

Reader hugged themself.

Reader asked if they could speak to Darling but the Dendro Archon said the acolytes would have to follow them, they did not trust Reader in this condition.

As if they were not the psychopath who tried to kill an innocent person Reader thought.

Reader did not want to meet Darling if it meant having to meet the acolytes.

Reader was so so tired and just wanted to sleep.

Sumeru's climate was rather weird to Reader who never lived in a tropical climate before. It seemed to rain and while hot at the same time. Reader who grew up in the north much like Snezhnaya's climate was confused as it only rained in the cold autumns rarely do you get rain in summer but they adapted quickly.

Yet something felt off this particular day, they tried to distract themselves by doing dishes. Outside the rain was still going on but Reader noticed how eerily quiet there was no rustling of the winds or a single bird finding shelter in the trees. They quickly wiped their hands and strode towards their desk.

Reading was always a good distraction nothing beat reading while it rained, they remembered how they would sometimes turn on a raining asmr video as they read fanfics. The silly memory brought a smile to their face. But just as they saw down they heard a loud knock. Reader jumped up from their seat.

Their chest felt heavy. Unless it was Nahida, the Traveller or the Wanderer who in the early days delivered groceries to them, no one came to visit them they doubted it was a robber why bother knocking then? Maybe it was someone lost or seeking shelter from the rain both options sucked they did not want to entertain people yet, they wrung their hands together. When someone was in need they could not look away anymore.

They ran towards one of the dressers and bought a spare towel and scurried for the entrance door. With hurried and clumsy motions they opened the door and there-

Was Darling.

Darling looked. . . distraught, they were a mess from the last time they saw each other. Gone was the intricately styled hair and neat robes instead their hair was a mess and their clothes wrinkled. Even their face looked pale and it looked like Darling had not slept in days. Most notable was the lack of acolyte trailing after them, Reader almost expected to hear Zhongli's "I will have order!" followed by a meteorite striking Reader down and their cabin.

"You- Wait are you alright what is going on? Why are you alone? Did something happen?"

Darling still looked distraught and everything seemed really wrong, perhaps they should have been calmer when they asked their questions they did not need two people who were on the verge of panic.

"R-reader I-I," they paused before breathing in, "I bleed red," they said as if that single revelation could destroy them.

"Huh?" Reader replied dumbfounded

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ghostfacesvalentine · 1 month ago

Text

HALLOWEEN DAY 14: Call me - Vampire!Hunter!JasonTodd x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Vampire!BountyHunter!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of obsession (?) cursing, really just a makeout session

Type: Blurb

Request: “ Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader doesn’t think she has a chance with Jason because “he’s a 10” and the reader has low self esteem “

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Reader has low self esteem (and awareness) with Vampire!Hunter!Jason

Notes: oh anon, of course I can. My sincerest of apologies bc this took so long. Also, anon didn’t specify the gender, I tried to make it as GN as possible but it’s leaning more towards fem! :) <3 also I drew a loooot of inspiration from the song “Call me” by blondie!

Jason knew you like nothing else, he observed you like no other. Every detail, he’d make a mental note for. Was it healthy? Maybe not, you could say he was a little bit obsessed, but he loved you.

He always wanted to make sure you were safe from any harm, no matter where he was or what it was from. There was no price too high to make sure you were in good hands.

Somehow, he always had to pay the price of life to keep you safe, but you didn’t have to know that.

Jason always checked in on you, even when you were sleeping, there was too many times where he never even told you about his visits. He could never admit it to you, instead he tried to play it cool, making it seem like everything was falling into place between you both and you were none the wiser.

After a few months of chipping away at the ice, Jason admitted to the presence of vampires, dangerous bloodthirsty creatures and what harm they were capable of.

Misunderstandings slowly started to fall into place for you, understanding why the excessive protection and frustration with your carelessness at times.

You’d be lying to everyone around you if you didn’t admit you were in love with the bounty hunter. The way he towered over you, the way his stern face would crack with a laugh when you’d say something stupid. Not to mention his gorgeous green eyes that tied everything together, only appearing to glow from time to time. He was so handsome, you often found yourself staring at him, never noticing he was staring at you back, except he did notice.

It became a habit for him to visit you, even on nights he wouldn’t call.

What you didn’t know was that Jason Todd was at your beck and call. You never noticed, but there wasn’t a time he never picked up. No matter what trouble he was entangled in, he answered you.

You dreaded those lonesome nights, but never made mention of it. There was a thick brick wall of insecurity when it came to romance with you. You weren’t the best at deciphering when someone was flirting with you or they were just being nice… or felt bad for you. Sometimes you just opted for the latter.

The thought of Jason’s eyes being entertained by another little lady made your stomach turn into itself.

You laughed at the silly idea, what the hell were you thinking? This man was a full fledged vampire hunter, there were creatures running around Gotham taking the lives of innocents and not so innocents and yet here you were worried if the guy who hunts them liked you or not.

It didn’t help that any time you thought the bar was low, it only got lower. You had a great personality, sure. You were charming, you listened, always tried your best to make others smile. You were clean, creative, thoughtful and you were the last person to judge anyone else.

Yet somehow, to add on top of the list, you were always something else, overlooked.

The only thing that made you feel better was to get out. It was October, most of the bars and clubs were at their peak. It wasn’t a full moon anyway, an hour out wouldn’t kill anyone.

You turned your radio up, trying to muffle out the noise in your head.

Greeting your vanity with a defeated smile, you brought out all your tools and gadgets. Pinning your hair up, you got started on your face, taking your time. There was no rush to meet or see anyone anyway, it was just to make yourself feel better, selfishly.

After your makeup, here came the brief fashion show to your full length mirror, whatever felt most flattering and most comfortable. Flaring your hair with your fingertips, twirling along to the music.

“Who the hell needs him?” You lied to yourself.

You never even felt the figure crouching outside your window, observing your ritual of flinging pieces of clothing out of your closet.

Faint humming to “call me” joined the music in your room as you thought carefully of your outfit of the night.

You shuffled through the different tops as you reminded yourself of the meeting. Dazed away with TV playing hellraiser as background noise, you didn’t even notice the bounty hunter crawling through your window tonight.

“You’d be a terrible lookout” he joked as he pulled himself through the frame, closing the window behind him.

“Shit!” He didn’t even give you time to react accordingly to his abrupt decision to visit you, especially being half decent.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you grabbed a sweater to hoist over your figure. “You could knock. Or go ahead just let yourself right in.” A hint of sarcasm came with your comment. You shook your head as you pushed out the wrinkles in your skirt, walking over to your closet again to pick out a pair of shoes.

Jason turned to take off his helmet, he set it down next to your nightstand and plopped on the corner of your bed.

“What? Is patrol duty slow tonight?” You called form the closet as you made your choice of shoes.

Jason looked down to his lap with a big grin “What? Am I not welcome anymore?”

“Stop twisting my words-“

“Hey, what’s all that? Where are you going?” He asked as he inspected your outfit. Jason seemed more worried than anything, not that you couldn’t hold your own, but maybe not against a vampire.

“What? Oh. Yeah, I was just going to see what was playing tonight. I don’t know.” You admitted as you made your way back to your vanity in search of your jewelry.

There was a moment of silence between you both. Neither of you knowing what to say to the other.

“Wanna go?” You broke the silence. Turning your body to him as you clipped your earrings on. The music simultaneously playing along with the TV.

You knew how to follow Jason’s eyes, never thinking he was staring at you in any other way other than to take note of what you were wearing, kind of like a detective thing. However, this time felt uncomfortable, you felt self conscious for the first time with him. This time aware of it.

“It doesn’t look good?” You wondered out loud, looking down at yourself then back over to the body length mirror.

“What? No. I never said that.” Jason protested.

“I’ve been having some issues with my outfits lately, I don’t know if I just need to find something new maybe?” You asked yourself more than you were asking him. Shuffling through your hangers, you were looking for more options.

“You know, you could ask me for a second opinion.” Jason offered himself, this time looking at you with his lashes in the way of his green eyes.

You scoffed unwillingly, shaking your head.

“What?” He asked playfully offended.

You were already having a particularly difficult day, you spent hours trying to pinpoint the issue, where you went wrong, what triggered it but to no avail. It was just like your mood just dropped, your motivation vanished. You were trying to distract yourself from the issue and it seemed like tonight, Jason was no help.

Jason had known you long enough to know these situations. He knew when your mind started to rattle, sometimes it seemed like before you did.

“What is it Y/N?”

You didn’t respond, only watching the reflection of the half moon on your floor.

He let you stare in silence, only for a few moments before stepping forward towards you. His broad shoulders got in the way of your trance, causing you to look up to him.

Cape draped over him lazily, a burgundy color, thick and stained with the muddy streets of Gotham. Your eyes trickled down, observing him for every detail you never tried to pull together about him. The body suit clenching his muscles in order for him to move quickly when fighting. The bat wings flared in a reflective silver as his belt buckle, all of it matching the rest of his armor. His gun holsters treaded along his belt, readily available, brimming and bullets laced with holy water.

“Why haven’t you called?” He asked bravely.

It took you a moment to understand his question. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, only to relax when you realize that you haven’t been the one to call him either. It was silly to expect Jason to be the one to constantly remind you that he was there.

“Well.. Jay, I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I didn’t tell you that I really liked you. Sometimes I feel like I get sick when you’re not around.” You avoided looking at his eyes, always avoiding them when you were telling the truth.

There was a silence that petrified only you, all while Jason was relishing in the way this was headed.

“Sick?” He was going to make the best out of this, making sure he wasn’t getting any mixed signals from you.

“Well, yeah. You know.”

“No I don’t. I’m all ears”

The sound of his armor clicked when it made contact with itself as he took a seat at the corner of your bed, his head tilted to face you, not having to look up even in his sitting position due to the size difference.

This didn’t help your situation, but he tried to make himself as small as possible to make you more confident in your ability to explain yourself.

Fuck.

“Uhm.” You choked out, confidence swirling down the drain now that all eyes were on you.

This was actually kind of embarrassing. You close your eyes to avoid the cringe you brought upon yourself.

“I can’t read minds doll.” He muttered, eyes still locked on you.

You wanted to give up, but it was obvious that Jason wasn’t going to anytime soon. He looked at you for another few moments before looking down to the floor, pressing his lips together. Instead he crossed his arms, looking towards the window, the dried up branches that have been there since fall began were still there, haunting your bedroom window.

“I really like you Jay, but you’re way out of my ballpark.” You laughed at yourself out loud when it finally slipped, better now than never. “If you’re here, it kills me, if you’re not- I don’t know. Somehow it feels worse. Is there something worse than death?” You were half joking. “Does that make sense?” You asked him, heart thumping away at your chest, hoping he couldn’t hear it nearly jump toward him.

The moment you choked out your first sentence, Jason’s eyes were on you again.

His answer came in the form of a tug. Pulling you against him, his hands almost fully wrapping around your forearm. His other hand pushing your hair back, he stared at you for a second before pressing his lips against yours.

Your body pressed against his chest plate, the cool material gave you goosebumps. His lips asked for more, kissing you again and again, secretly hoping you wouldn’t pull away. You were reciprocating, as you did his hands slithered to the small part of your back, fingertips caressing the curves of your body.

Those caresses then turning into passionate kisses, he was trying to restrain himself as much as possible when your hands traveled up to hold the back of his neck. Goosebumps formed on his body as your nails lazily trailed against his locks.

To have someone love him back the way he loved you, for the first time? Of course he was going to have such an animalistic grip on you, but you were the only one who could break from his grip. He’d let you go if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to.

Jason’s arm slithered back down to your side, then down to the side of your thigh as the other held your jaw against his face, passionate kisses then turning into opened mouth ones.

His hand found the inner side of your thigh, hooking his arm around your figure pulling your leg over the side of his abdomen. It didn’t take long for the other hand to repeat the gesture. His kisses missed your lips, targeting the corner of them, then your cheek, then down to the crevices of your neck. “You can call me anytime.” He mumbled against your flush skin, teeth grazing your veins, your body involuntarily pumped against his while you were in his grip.

“Any time, any day or night, just call me.”

#jason todd blurb #jason todd one shot #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #ghostfacesvalentines halloween

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elkian · 14 days ago

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Ending 17 (Don't Make Me Worry), Scarlet/Victory Ends, and Return End spoilers:

I think it's really interesting how Mr. Stitch acts in the Ending 17 route. As far as I can tell, virtually every character in the game

1) tells the truth. Which if nothing else is probably a game design choice to make things easier, since translating is already a mechanic; determining if someone's lying on top of that would get complicated really damn fast. Diagetically, I think it's since communicating is already difficult (we see with Mr. Human that dif languages are a possibility; plus the locals turning from human to Other), that everyone is already fighting to be understood and lying would make THAT too complicated. Plus there's so many Mistake Ends that the MC can't be the only one getting killed by accident. Communication is important, is my point.

and,

2) almost always operates on basis of consent. There are a few exceptions, but largely the Other people operate on the assumption that the MC knows what she's asking for/consenting to, which comes back to both gameplay and communication.

There are outliers, of course, but they are usually from a character who's either already belligerent, or genuinely trying to help (unf their understanding of "help" isn't always conducive to a functioning human body).

Mr. Gap gets upset when you offer him a heart that you acquired without asking, and he always asks for things from you. He gets annoyed when you say no, but he never pushes it. (He does show up under your sheets, but oh well.)

Mr. Stitch is one of the only characters we've seen who asked for something (see his argument with Mr. Crawling at the first meeting) and, eventually, decides to take it when refused (running away with you).

And this is also the only ending where Mr. Crawling loses his temper. It's the only ending where he stands up (which appears to be extremely difficult for him; he was crawling in the intro, it's probably not just to not intimidate the MC), it's the only ending where he gets violent, and it's the only ending with him not smiling for an entire conversation with the MC. Even when assured of your health and safety, he doesn't smile.

Hell, Mr. Scarletella backs off when Mr. Crawling tells him to (and eventually, when the MC tells him to), even though he's very insistent on Getting the MC.

There seems to be a certain unspoken code amongst the "Monsters", and violating it is a serious breach of conduct.

Edit: Stitch also acts questionable during his "come play" option but it's less obvious than the 17 one.

Edit 2: It just occurred to me that some rooms have doors marked in some way - the tentacle room, the painting's room, and the hair salon come to mind - and those are doors you have to be invited to enter. The latter two you're specifically supposed to knock on and wait for an invitation or you get splatted. So there's definitely a form of etiquette happening, it's sort of like a fae realm but more up front about the murder lmao.

#elk text #elk plays homicipher #homicipher spoilers #mr. stitch #like there's two dozen something endings in this game where wild shit happens #and mr crawling gets mad ONCE

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lovelynim · 6 months ago

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(Un)wanted company

Genshin Impact - Heizou x Kazuha x Scaramouche

A/N: Happy birthday Miaaaa ( @ticklygiggles )!! I'm so sorry for not being very subtle about it. I hope you can see how much I appreciate your friendship and your company with this little fic. Love you, *mwah*!

Summary: Scaramouche overslept, which gave the perfect oportunity for his partners to do something about it.

Word count: 1323 words

Scaramouche gritted his teeth, slightly scrunching up his shoulders as he tried to sink into the mattress and run from the two attentive gazes that hovered over him. He wanted to curse, but the last bits of wit inside his head reminded him that it would only worsen his predicament.

“Isn’t he the cutest, Kazuha?” Heizou cooed, tilting his head and resting his hand against his own cheek.

Kazuha - or, as Scaramouche would address him - the other bastard, promptly nodded, gently moving his hand through Scaramouche’s hair, making the latter practically hiss at him. “Indeed. He looked so adorable in his sleep, but I still think that nothing beat his angry face ~”

Scaramouche clenched his hands and kicked his legs, but all for nought. With Heizou making himself comfortable on top of his stomach and Kazuha sitting on his arms, Scaramouche was firmly pinned down by his partners’ weight for archons-know-how-long. All he ever wanted were five more minutes of sleep, just that and nothing else. But, perhaps, this was the price he had to pay for deciding to live surrounded by idiots.

After a couple more attempts of freeing himself, Scaramouche groaned, forced to admit and recognize he was at the mercy of the other two. “I will kill you two if you don’t let me go right now,” he muttered, an awful frown taking place in his face as he looked down to Heizou and, then, back up to Kazuha.

His threat, however, didn’t seem to work as intended. The two exchanged looks before scoffing at it and chuckling with amusement. “Oh, Kuni, don’t be angry,” Kazuha hummed, stroking Scaramouche’s cheek.

“Besides,” Heizou mused as he rested his hands against Scaramouche’s sides, “it’s your fault for oversleeping.”

Those words made Scaramouche’s heart drop inside his chest, his eyes widening as he connected the pieces together: barely a couple of days ago, it was Heizou the one that refused to get out of bed. While Scaramouche wanted to kick him out, Kazuha suggested a more gentle, but effective approach - which Scaramouche promptly adopted.

He never expected to have the tables turned on him like that.

“D-don’t you da-AHARE!”

Heizou grinned, the corner of his lips curling up in a wicked manner as he poked each of Scaramouche’s sides at the same time. “Or what, Kuni?” Heizou mused, chuckling as he saw the frustrated - and flustered - look on his partner’s face. “That’s what I thought.”

Wasting not a single more second, Heizou continued to savor his sweet revenge, scratching and wiggling his fingers over Scaramouche’s sides and stomach, gently dragging his short nails over the thin cloth that protected his skin.

“NahAHaha– K-KaedaHAhara, lehehet goHOHO!” Scaramouche laughed, pressing the back of his head in Kazuha’s lap and clenching his hands, hoping to, somehow, free them.

But despite his calls for aid, Kazuha seemed interested in answering them. The samurai shook his head, smiling gently, “I can’t, Kuni. Heizou asked me to help him, it wouldn’t be fair if I switched sides now.”

“You could be helping me instead, hm?” Heizou suggested, pinching Scaramouche’s waist in a way that made him want to crawl out of his skin, “I remember how you clearly joined him, Kazuha ~” Heizou whined, even pouting while his hands continued the onslaught on Scaramouche’s body.

As if the tickling wasn’t bad enough, Scaramouche thought, he still had to deal with the other two bickering at a time like this. “A-ah, but, Heizou-”

“I see, you like him better, don’t you? You even gave him a nickname that I’m not allowed to use,” Heizou feigned a saddened expression, digging into Scaramouche’s ribs, “you hear that, Ku-ni-ku-zu-shi? He loves you more!”

“S-SHuhuHUT UP!” Scaramouche cackled. As a matter of fact, Kazuha wasn’t allowed to call him by that nickname, but it never stopped him. Still, to think Heizou would make a scene - even if it was a fake one - over it… “E-nOHOhough, yohohou brahAHahat!”

“That’s not it, Heizou, and you kno-”

“Then,” Heizou interrupted him again, also stopping the tickling this time. He pressed his hands on Scaramouche’s chest as he leaned forward, closing the distance between him and Kazuha, “help me tickle him, Kazuha ~”

“I-”

“Don’t- hahh… d-don’t you dare side with him, Kaedahara!” Scaramouche uttered, still out of breath and having a hard time catching it up with Heizou’s weight on his chest.

This was bad, Kazuha thought, as a shy, but confused smile took place in his lips. If he helped Heizou, Kuni would be mad at him for days, weeks even… but if he listened to Kuni, then Heizou would be the one getting upset.

Still, he had to decide And, in times like these, he always opted for the fairest decision, which was…

“Sigh, sorry, Kuni,” Kazuha chuckled softly, “I will make it up to you later.”

A mix of reactions filled the room at that moment: Heizou beamed with excitement, cheering his little victory, while Scaramouche widened his eyes in disbelief, facing what he would later name as his fourth betrayal.

“I hahAHATE YOHOHOU!” Scaramouche cackles echoed through his final words, pressing his eyes shut and thrashing his head as Kazuha moved his hands to tickle him under his pinned, restrained arms.

Despite the threats and curses, neither Kazuha nor Heizou seemed to feel intimidated. In fact, it only made them more amused. Seeing Scaramouche trying to be scary while that sweet, angry laughter poured from his lips was worth whatever the scolding they would get later on.

While Kazuha gently fluttered his fingers over Scaramouche’s underarms, going down to his ribs and then back up to his forearms from time to time, Heizou was a little more fierce, scratching, prodding and pinching wherever his fingers could reach. It didn’t take long for small tears of mirth to begin to cling at Scaramouche’s lashes, threatening to roll down his rosy cheeks as he shook his head in a loud fit of laughter.

“Heizou, don’t be so mean,” Kazuha muttered with a hint - but just a hint - of concern in his voice. Heizou rolled his eyes - not that Scaramouche could see that through as the two wreak ticklish havoc in his body, but it’s still something worth to mention. “You’ll hurt him.”

“Why are you so worried, it’s not like he needs to breathe, right?” Heizou hummed, rubbing his thumbs over Scaramouche’s waist, making him squeal loudly, “he always reminds us of that when kissing… he is the mean one, not me!”

“CahAHAn you t-two stahAHAhap?!” Scaramouche groaned, not knowing if it was worse when Kazuha and Heizou paid full attention to him or when they ignored him completely. All he knew was that his cheeks hurt from laughing, and so did his stomach.

Exchanging looks, Kazuha and Heizou nodded, deciding to listen to Scaramouche’s request this time and make the tickling come to a halt. As they lifted their hands, the other’s body went limp in their bed, his head resting in Kazuha’s lap, still high, light from laughing.

“Y-you- agh…” Scaramouche wheezed, barely noticing the shifting behind him as Kazuha fred his hands. “I h-hahate you two…”

“No, you don’t,” Heizou teased, letting his body fall next to Scaramouche and laying by his side, “you love us.”

“And we love you too,” Kazuha added sweetly, making Scaramouche cringe at his words. Under complaints and groans, the duo giggled, kissing each of Scaramouche’s cheeks at the same time.

“G-get off me!” Scaramouche hissed, pressing his hands against his partners’ chests and trying to push them away.

“Fine, fine,” Heizou laughed, sitting up, “let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” He beamed, hopping out of the bed and getting followed by a worried Kazuha that tried to convince him to wait.

Alone, again, in their bedroom, Scaramouche finally sat up. He looked at the door, listening to the noises from the other part of their house and sighing. Maybe having some company wasn’t so bad, after all…

#genshin impact #genshin impact tickling #ler!heizou #ler!kazuha #lee!scaramouche #ticklish!scaramouche #kazuscarahei #kaedahara kazuha #shikanoin heizou #scaramouche #happy birthday miaaaa

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