#this took for a much slower turn than I anticipated

[lateatnewyork]

Hi lovely! First of all: your writing is amazing. You have a huge potential, keep up your good work! I'm proud of you. Listen, of courseee now that I've flattered you I need to request something xD

SO! I was thinking maybe fluff prompt 11 with Azriel. Like it would be their first pregnancy together and Azriel took some time off from missions to spend time with you? He's being super protective and all, always having a protective hand over the reader's belly- you get the idea. And like they would be laying on the couch and he would just randomly whiff of the reader's scent filled with her pregnancy hormones and be like, delighted with the scent? It was just an idea I had: I figured you would be able to make it into beautiful words. Like always.

Take care!

Babies

Azriel x Rhysand sister!reader

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff, suggestive

Prompts: N/A

Summary: It’s your first pregnancy and Az is being an overprotective mate. But you love it.

a/n dude i literally love @azsazz for all her dad!azriel fics also i don’t think ultrasound pictures are a thing in acotar so bare with me, i hope you don’t mind i didn’t include prompt 11 i just didn’t think it fit into the story.

“You’re pregnant,” Madja’s voice rang through my ears.

“Pregnant, that can’t be” I whisper. “Y/N my dear it turns out you are really fertile, more so than normal fae females,”

“I’m having a baby,” I mumble out, “I need to tel Azriel, when should I see you next?”

It wasn’t as if Azriel and I hadn’t talked about children. Fuck we had come up with baby names before all of this. So why was I so nervous as I waited for Az to come home.

Madja had given me a picture of the babe. I had it laid on a table with a cake that said “You’re gonna be a dad”.

The time seemed to pass slower, the clock’s ticking dimmed. I could hear the songs of the birds returning for the night, see the sunset pour into the room.

The door clicked, and I practically jumped out of my seat and rushed to the open it. I think I gave Azriel a heart attack with how quickly, I opened the door and pounced on him. He reciprocated my actions with a searing kiss.

“Hi,” I whisper against his lips, he chuckles and shuts the door, making sure to lock it. “What’s gotten you so excited?” he asks.

“I have a surprise for you in the kitchen,” I murmur my mind still hazy from the kiss.

“Oh you do?” he smirks. Rolling my eyes, I jump off and grab his hand, “It’s not that kind of surprise,”.

Guiding him by his arm, I drag him towards the kitchen. Standing on my tippy toes, my hand goes to cover his eyes right before we enter the kitchen.

I look around at the swirls of black surrounding both Az and I’s torsos. Leaning down, I whisper “Don’t tell him anything,”.

As if they hear me they frantically move up and down as if saying yes.

Taking a deep breath in, we walk into the kitchen. Reluctantly pulling my hand away from his face, I look at him in anticipation of his reaction.

His eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings, he looks at the picture of the babe in my stomach, then his eyes wonder to the cake. He takes in the words written on the cake.

Turning around he gapes at me.

“We’re having a- you’re not joking right?” he says frantically. Unable to form words I shake my head as a no.

Within seconds, he’s picked me up and he’s twirling me around in the air.

I shriek at first but then it dies down into a soft smile as I see how happy he is. Once he’s put me down on the ground, he kneels and pulls up my shirt.

“Mummy and Daddy love you so much” he kisses my belly.

Halfway through my pregnancy, Azriel forced Rhysand to let him off until the babe was born. He spent every waking moment with me, making sure I was drinking enough water, eating enough food and stuff like that.

The pregnancy made him more protective, he growled at every single male he saw, that looked at me. But seeing the fearsome spymaster, on his knees kissing my belly or holding my belly from behind to relieve me of some of the pain was all worth it.

He had cried the day the babe’s scent finally came. He had promised me that he would be the best father ever. Not that I had any doubt about it.

I stayed at home mostly, to satisfy Azriel and also because no one wants to walk around a lot when you’re so close to your due date.

That’s why I was currently lying on top of Azriel, my back pressed against his chest as he read me one of the books Nesta had given me.

But all I could focus on was his voice. A rich melody filling the room like a sweet song. I shuffled against him.

He took a deep breathe, taking in the scent of the babe. And my pregnancy hormones. The second they hit his senses, he let out a deep growl that went straight down my spine to my heated core.

I carefully twisted around so I could kiss him. His soft lips pressed against mine, sent me into a frenzy. The way his arms grazed up my shorts and down the arms of my sleeveless top.

“Az,” I whine against his mouth, “Don’t be a tease,”.

“I would never dream of it my love,” he says grinning.

My hormones swapped out for a droopy feeling. I yawned against his chest. He chuckled and kissed my head. Going back to reading, he drew mindless circles on my exposed shoulder. And finally for the first time in days the babe had finally let me sleep.

“You and our daughter are my heart, darling” and that’s the last thing.

Cassian had barged into the living room of the couple’s new house. “How’s my favourite sister in la-”.

Azriel tells him to shut up as he motions to the sleeping figure on top of him. “Sorry,” Cassian winces.

Just seconds later Rhysand stomps into the room, “Where’s my sister?” he asks as he looks over at Cassian. “Don’t be too loud you’re going to wake the demon,” he whispers pointing over at Azriel and I. Lifting up my middle finger, I aim it towards Cassian and then mutter out a “Fuck you” loud enough for them to hear.

“Althea doesn’t like you, Rhys” I say, giggling.

“Oh and how would you know that sister dear?” He says with a roll of his eyes.

Just as I’m about to answer, I get interrupted.

“Althea is such a pretty name,” Cassian squeals.

“Yes we know, now get out” Azriel sighs exasperatedly.

They start protesting but I cut them off, “Either get out or bring me some cake,”.

As they walk out Cassian mutters under his breath, “Demon,”

“I heard that!”

a/n hope you liked this anon! dad!az just holds a special place in my heart 🫶🏻

[wave2tyun]

pillow talk

pairing: taehyun x reader

genre: suggestive?? it's nothing explicit but i wouldn't call it fluff either cause it's just a makeout sbdsbshd

summary: more taehyun brainrot (i'm insane.)

warnings: none<3

word count: 0.6k

a/n: here it is, just as promised!!!!😼😼💖 sorry if it seems like i've been spamming lately- i'm gonna go back to uni in less than a week so i'm kinda trying to make the most out of my free time until then sadbahjb cause i don't know how active i'll be after that :( also this is completely off topic but i JUST found out the game burger shop 3 has been released.........it's downloading right as i'm typing this.....guess i might be busy over the next few hours

his hands were all over you- coming from cradling your hips to stroking down the skin of your thighs, gently gripping the muscle as he further immersed himself in the feeling of your lips on his. he couldn’t get enough of it- having you tangled up in his sheets every night, with no other priority on his mind besides losing yourself in your warm embrace.

parting slightly, you lingered with your lips hanging open, still touching against his, yet not returning to closing the space.

“wanna go slow?”

taehyun’s eyes were still closed as he heavily exhaled, answering you.

“don’t be a tease, sweetheart”

but he waited patiently, caressing the curves of your hips, hair already a ruffled mess. your fingertips traced the outline of his lips slowly, in an almost tantalizing manner.

switching to lean in closer, you pressed a peck so quick it could barely be called a kiss before you nibbled on his lower lip, provoking him further with your tongue as you lightly brushed it over his lips, yet not turning to do anything more.

“just kiss me” he groaned, at which you let out a small laugh.

taehyun felt his cheeks go red, it wasn’t usual for him to act with such transparent greed. his desire was beginning to feel insatiable- it was a struggle to contain it.

“you’re too impatient-” you began to mutter, but taehyun reconnected his lips with yours, kissing you right through your words.

that tenderness of yours- it was such sweet agony feeling you touch him so slow, teasing the fiery longing burning within him. who would have thought that a mere two centimeters could be so maddening?

now that he had convinced you to give in again, he cupped your face, holding you close. his lips moved against yours in a slower rhythm than before, taking his time to feel you, to pleasure you, careful so that you wouldn’t pull away again and leave him hot and heavy chasing after you. he turned further into a mess the more you bit his lips, the more your tongue glided past his, the more he felt the heat of your mouth.

out of breath, you pressed your forehead to his for a few moments before moving to graze his jawline with your lips. you dipped your head down to reach his neck, all while your left hand caressed the skin along his nape, switching between lightly scratching with your nails against his scalp, and tugging at his hair.

the more you nipped at his neck, the more he felt himself becoming slightly feverish; low hums and soft praises escaping whenever you took your time biting down a certain spot.

“fuck- do that again” the words escaped in a mellow tone.

“do you like it?” you asked teasingly, pausing your movements.

“don’t stop” he pleaded urgently. it’s not just that he wanted more- he needed more. he needed to feel you closer, to feel the heat from your lips completely coating his body, settling and nibbling on his bare skin.

“keep going, baby” he urged you on.

his chest heaved underneath you, and you could feel his heart thump in expectation. he couldn’t just stay still, his fingers were brushing over the expanse of your back, roaming around your shoulder blades then down your spine, and coming to settle on your waist underneath your shirt. in a mixture of desire and anticipation, he threw his hair back, releasing a soft sigh- no matter how much your lips brushed over his, no matter how many times you explored his body, he could never cease craving more of your touch.

taglist: @huekalover3000

[ethanmorales]

Misconceptions

All Parts Now Posted - Masterlist

Part 1 - Ablaze

Pairing: Ethan Morales x reader 1.3k words Tags: make out, angst Warning: swearing

My fingers grazed against his chest and as I let my hand wander down his torso, I felt every muscle under twitch in anticipation. I looked up at his face and he was already looking at me with a mixture of lust and longing.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Oh and I missed him. For what other reason would I have climbed through his window at 2:12 in the morning?

But I didn’t say it back. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place. Me caring. Me wanting him so bad it hurt. Me falling while he was always just having a good time.

“Babe?”

I looked up at him, pulled out of my thoughts by his inquiring tone.

“Just kiss me,” I demanded.

He only hesitated for two seconds, just briefly enough for his brown eyes to send a silent question, “everything okay?” But his mouth never asked; it was too busy connecting with mine in a blazing kiss that threatened to consume me, him, both of us together.

Everything was on fire. Everywhere he touched. Everywhere he kissed. My skin burned with his touch and for it. We barely paused for breath as he laid me down on his bed. He unlinked our mouths long enough to grab the hem of my shirt and help me out of it. Then we lit up again.

I glided my fingers in the soft waves of his hair as his mouth found the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. His teeth gently grazed against the skin, just enough for me to feel the pressure but not enough to cause pain and then his tongue followed. He started trailing downward to my chest with that same technique.

"Ethan." It was a half-whispered moan. I say half whispered because it was not as quiet as I intended it to be.

At his name, he looked up at me, smiling that damning adorable smile of his and placed a finger over my lips.

"My parents' sleep next door."

He was better at whispering than I was. Probably had more experience at this kind of clandestine middle of the night type of encounter. Before the bitter thought took full effect in my head, his mouth clashed against mine in another fiery kiss. Almost like he wanted to distract me from my own thoughts.

It was working.

The kiss that started like a flame scorching through us with intensity and desperation, simmered down into a heart wrenching slower tempo. Our mouths molded together, his tongue slow danced with mine in perfect unison... and I was lost.

Lost to the sweet taste of his lips. Lost to the movement of his pelvis against mine and the calculated motions building up the fire that he had awoken in me. Though we still had enough clothing separating us from the fusing of our bodies, it didn't dampen the ever-present ache within me.

With the way he touched me, you would think he felt the same.

So, I was lost. Lost in the depths of longing. Longing for this guy that could never ever reciprocate such feeling in return.

I pushed away from him as abruptly as I had the thought. I was met by a look that someone that didn't know him would think is concern. But I knew better.

"I have to go." My words practically a mumble.

"What?" he seemed disoriented in a way, his eyes searching for something in mine that I didn't want him to find.

"It's late," I said, "If we wake up your parents, they'll disown you for real this time."

Ethan's eyes though still confused, hid partially away by the appearance of his mischievous smile, "So what? They've disowned me like 50 times already. Just this year."

I rolled my eyes.

"You say that with so much pride," I whispered, simultaneously pulling myself out of his grasping hands. I heard him groan in protest behind me as I pulled my shirt over my head.

"Because the shit they say doesn't mean anything. They think that by acting like they're disappointed in me, I'll just magically turn into the son they always wanted. It's bullshit."

I shook my head at this rant and turned to face him. He had gotten up from the bed as well and was less than two feet away from me.

"If you really didn't care, you wouldn't' have shushed me earlier. But God knows you're too cool to admit to caring about anything so I'm not having this argument with you." I sounded defeated. He noticed the change in my tone immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Why do we have to argue at all? There are way more fun things that we could be doing right now." Even as he said it, I could see that he didn't mean it. Something in his expression closed off at my previous comment.

"I have to be up early anyways," I said gently.

"Sure. Whatever." He walked towards his window. I followed behind until we were in front of it.

I looked up at him. He didn't seem to want to look me in the eye as he avoided my gaze. I gave up.

"Okay. I'll see you around then."

My voice was small, and I hated myself for it. This is where we end up every time. I understand that he has never claimed to be anything but who I've always known him to be, but can you blame me for wanting more? I'm only human. And I know... that's it's wrong that I want him to change for me. I should be accepting him as he is or staying away from him, but I can't. The harder I try, the easier it is for me to end up here with him. Stuck in this goddamn tragic loop of ours.

I shake my head to myself and throw a leg over the windowsill. As I push myself out and my feet touch the freshly cut grass of his backyard, I thank God he lives in a one-story home.

When I turn to close his bedroom window, he stops me with a hand over mine. I move mine away and he frowns. He proceeds to climb out of his window.

"What?" I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. I was already too emotionally drained to hide my upset.

He blinks with confusion. "What am I doing wrong?"

I huff but say nothing.

He sighs, "How do I stop upsetting you if you won't tell me what it is that you're upset about?"

I snap. "You. You are the reason I'm upset!"

His eyes widen, "What about me? "

I want to tell him. I want to tell him everything. All the things he makes me feel; good and bad. My fears. My thoughts. But I can't. Because I know what he will say.

"I didn't sign up for this".

"We had a deal."

"Don't start getting clingy."

I've heard it all come out of his mouth before. Not with me. With the many girls I've seen him with. But still. I refuse to make the mistakes the rest of them did. I will never admit that I had fallen for him. Not now. Not ever.

I held his gaze for a second, but his beautiful brown eyes made my poor heart flutter uncomfortably in my chest. I look away.

"Nothing, sorry. I really gotta go. I get cranky when I don't sleep."

I start turning around to leave, but then feel his arm snake around my waist and pull me in against him, leaving no space between us.

I look up at him in a question. His eyes scanned my face for something, though I'm not sure what.

"Liar."

That's all he says before his mouth crashes over mine.

I didn't want it. The rational part of me knew that I should back off and walk away. But as soon as his tongue invades my mouth, the heat of our flame sears through my whole being... and we're back to where we started.

To be continued...

__________________________________

A/N: Haven't written in ages. But after watching season 4 of Never Have I Ever.... I had to. My goodness, Ethan got me feeling all kinds of things lol. Made a new blog just to write this without judgement. Let me know if you want a part 2. I feel like this might deserve another part. Or maybe I can turn it into a series? Let me know if you liked it and I'll write more :)

Update: will be doing a part two! Maybe 3... we shall see :D

[the-guilty-writer]

I second the ask about Hotch's daughter with endometriosis!!! I'd like to see that

I just finished it ♡

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

You truly wondered how women with endometriosis survived periods before thermotherapy products were invented. Hot water bottles and heating pads were a necessity for you during this time of the month. It wasn’t that they made the pain go away - they just made it bearable enough to allow you small bits of time where you could do something more than laying down.

At the moment, a hot water bottle and a maxed out dose of Ibuprofen were holding you together - barely. After twenty minutes at school, you were sent home by your English teacher, who was concerned about your nauseous complexion. Somehow, you'd managed to do some make-up work before taking a long (and much-needed) nap.

With your dad away on a case, the list of chores was longer than normal, but the pain made moving nearly impossible, much less cleaning. Dishes needed to be put away, the kitchen table needed to be cleared, and he laundry hamper was flooded with clothes, but there was no way you could do any of it while your insides felt like they were going to fall out. The only thing you absolutely had to do was pick Jack up from school. Everything else could wait.

All the energy you’d gathered went into the ten minute drive to and from picking up your brother. He requested a snack as soon as you got home, which you somehow managed to make him food without screaming in pain. It took every ounce of energy you had left to sit at the table with your brother as he did his homework.

The pain and fatigue clouded your brain, so much so that you hardly noticed the door to the apartment open.

“Dad!” Jack jumped up his seat and down the hall toward him.

“Hey buddy,” Hotch said. The tone of his voice was a testament to his exhaustion, but a happiness to be home.

“Dad, I made this painting in art class and I really want to show you. It's in my bedroom. Come look!” Jack didn’t give your dad a moment of rest.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Jack’s feet pounded against the floor, running to his room in anticipation. Your dad’s longer, slower footsteps followed behind. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, you could tell the case has been a hard one. He looked beyond exhausted, horrors still haunting his eyes and crushing his spirit. Not even your little brother's innocent greeting could extinguish what your dad had endured over the past few days.

“Hey, dad,” you greeted him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster up.

“Hi sweetheart.” He planted a quick kiss atop your head before moving to the kitchen. “Where are all the plates?”

A displeasement crossed your dad’s face. You'd meant to empty the dishwasher earlier that day, but the pain body had stopped you.

“Still in the dishwasher,” you said, holding back a wince as your stomach cramped.

“I thought we talked about this.”

“We did, but-”

“You’re almost an adult. I expect you to start showing up like one.” He was calm but stern. Unblinking eyes bore into you. It made you want to cry.

Hotch turned and left the kitchen, his calm footsteps indicating he was going to Jack's room.

Despite the pain radiating through your body, you stood up and carefully made your way to the dishwasher to unload it. As soon as you leaned over to lower the door, a stabbing sensation penetrated your gut. Dizziness washed over your head and blackened your vision. In an instant, you had crumbled to the floor.

You weren't even aware that you'd let out a cry of pain until your dad was kneeling next to you, a gentle hand caressing your face. Through teary, blurry vision, you could just make out the worry in his fearures.

“It hurts,” you choked out.

“I know,” he said gently. “I'm here. I've got you.”

Strong arms lifted you off the kitchen floor, carrying you to the couch. A heating pad was laid across your stomach and a straw was brought up to your lips with the gentle encouragement to drink.

When you managed to open your eyes, Hotch was next to you, a look of concern on his normally serious face.

"Hi, sweetheart." The words were the same as before, but his tone was different.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Here," Hotch brought a hand behind your back and used the other to hand you a bottle of water, "have some water."

You took gentle sips. Your father’s hand still rested on your back, rubbing it soothingly.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You didn't make me get up." It was true.

"No, but I jumped to conclusions about what you were able to do and it made you feel like you had to do something that caused you pain." Sometimes having a profiler for a dad was a good thing. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you said.

Hotch helped you lay down again, covering you with a warm blanket. "Can I get you anything?"

You snuggled into the blanket and adjusted the heating pad to sit in the best place for easing pain. "Just the TV remote."

Your dad smiled - his small but rare smile - before handing you the remote. The rest of the afternoon would be filled with watching bad TV and chick flicks, but he didn't mind. If it made you just a little more comfortable, then it was worth it.

[pezberrywhoreee]

cruella x (fem) reader smut drabble!! 'the inspection'

Pairing: dom!cruella de vil (Cruella 2021) x subfem!reader

Words: 1,111

content warning: D/S relationship (heavy), degradation, mocking, cunt inspection, light mommy kink, mentions of torture

Summary: Cruella gives you some well earned attention...though not nicely or selflessly.

Note: Nobody on this planet is producing queer Cruella fanfiction and it's starting to eat away at my soul. I'll do it, bitches. I'm so disgustingly obsessed with this movie and this woman btw...i should be institutionalised. I'll try to hold back but I cannot promise anything :D. (if y'all like this, i may continue this, post it on ao3 (@faberryslut09). i just needed some to write something before i exploded from horny :))

You could already feel yourself practically leaking onto the hardwood floor of the kitchen.

Cruella hadn't explicitly ordered you to be kneeling for her by the time she arrived from a long day of hunting for the right pieces for the next collection, but you thought that it would be a sweet surprise. Plus, it was going to eventually happen that night so why not start the fun earlier?

Your head dropped and your hands clasped behind you back as the sound of the lift resounded throughout the warehouse.

The much present desperation invited a soft shake within your bare body, shivering in anticipation.

This was made more intense at the clank of the lift door opening followed by the rhythmic tapping of a cane and boots against the wood. Your breathing stopped momentarily out of fear when the sound came slower, almost feeling the need to look up but you could feel her gaze burning into your body.

The woman's evil cackle erupted in the quiet space, adding to the tension filled room. There was a hint of mischief to the laughter that sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. You tried to quiet the involuntary mewling noises rising in your throat.

"Oh darling~ how depraved". She chuckled, looking down on you, literally and figuratively.

Cruella's low, sophisticated voice never failed to bring you certain feelings of arousal and compliance. As soon as you heard that tone it was like clockwork of how instantly you were by her feet.

Your eyes fluttered shut at her mocking tone which was accompanied by her free hand in your hair, gently petting and playing for now. The trembling of your body threatened to intensify but you tried to compose it as best as you could. Much to the woman's amusement, you were still steadily shaking from the intense arousal powering your being.

Cruella began to circle your kneeling body, her cane tapping along with her. "How long have you been waiting like this, pet?". She asked, seemingly unbothered.

You kept your head down as you answered her, a betraying whine in your voice. "About half an hour, ma'am".

A refined brow shot up in response as well as a smirk tugging at her lips. "Well...consider me impressed, darling. Although you could do far better than that". She said as is if she wasn't convinced by her own praise followed by her usual condescending remarks. You felt yourself drip each time she spoke.

"On your back, I must inspect you". She commanded effortlessly. "You know how it is, pet", she whispered seductively.

Wordlessly, you placed you arms in front of you on the hardwood floor, lifting your weight to stretch you legs out and gently push yourself onto your back.

A sense of vulnerability washed over you at how she took in every inch of your body, the hunger in her eyes growing. That animalistic stare forever burned into your mind. You could feel her obsession just through her eyes.

A louder chuckle was heard from above as the light perfectly caught the small puddle that was underneath you. The woman placed her cane down and crouched down in front of you, eyeing the slick on the ground. The smirk on her face turned into a shit eating grin.

"Desperate, are we?" She mocked, her tone higher in feigned worry. A sigh left your lungs as you felt yourself clench at her tone.

You gasped as you felt the sting of her palm being brought down on your thigh. "Yes, mommy". You answered in a whimper.

She hummed her approval before fully kneeling down in front of your spread legs and groping at your flesh mindlessly.

"Were you thinking about me? About what I would do to you?". Her tone drove you fucking crazy. The lowness was one thing but her seeming lack of care made you feel like she was the only thing that existed. She had barley touched you and you could feel yourself falling into subspace.

"Yes, ma'am", you responded simply, waiting for permission to say more.

"Anything in particular, darling?". The woman asked, her fingers tracing shapes over your skin.

"I— need to be controlled and told how to please you. I will do anything— anything to feel your touch. No one can make me feel like you can. I need someone—smarter to think for me". You recited, desperation embedded in your voice.

"Oh darling~ I am quite aware that you're nothing but a stupid pet who can't think for themselves. I mean...would a non corrupt person get this wet just by thinking? I don't think so". She purred in an icy tone, her hands slowly making contact with your leaking cunt.

You felt the heartbeat in your core quicken as her thumb played with your slit, collecting some slick and rubbing it into your swollen flesh.

A loud whine escaped you when you felt her fingers part your lips, her hot breath inches from your cunt. You instantly covered your eyes with your forearms at how intensely vulnerable it was to get inspected by such a powerful gaze.

You refrained from bucking your hips at the now constant surges of arousal that all landed in your core. Air trapped in your lungs as you felt her nails dig into you thighs, each ounce of pain that she inflicted drove you further into becoming a mess for her.

"I want you to see the effect that I have on you, darling. Isn't it just so consuming?", She asked rhetorically, her glare pointed up to your face. She hummed once more when you lifted you arms away and looked down at her, unable to quiet the moan ready to make itself known.

"I believe you're more than ready to take me...but I could make you wait longer, see how much desperation you're capable of". She threatened, easily slipping her middle and ring finger inside of you due to your heavily aroused state.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull at finally feeling her inside of you after waiting so patiently.

Cruella pulled out just as quickly. "There's a spot on the floor that needs some attention, darling". She purred, referring to the mess that you made.

You instantly knew what she wanted you to do so you got on your knees once more and lowered your face to the ground. As your tongue reached the ground, your eyes fell closed in a secure sense of submission. Groaning at the taste of yourself, you lapped up every drop until the hardwood was clean.

"Good pet. How about some prolonged torture as a reward?" The woman grinned nefariously.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Hi!!! How’s it going?

I have a brain cleansing idea 😂

So Hunter is always alert and worried about everyone. How about the reader trying to sooth his worries late at night? Kissing his hands, stroking his hair. With him laying his head in the crook of your neck or trying to hear the steady rhythm of a heartbeat 😭😭. Whatever floats your boat.

Feel free to change things up to your liking (if you like my idea). It can be an established relationship or a friends to lovers thing, whatever you prefer,

Don’t forget to take breaks and to prioritise your health

♡

Hi anon! Thanks for the request. I loved this idea, so I ran with it and tweaked it ever so slightly. Thank you for the little reminder to take breaks - I've been a bit burned out with work, but writing this brought me joy 💕

For a while, I’ve wanted to do a HC’s piece on the Batch looking after reader who has chronic migraines (super self-indulgent), but giving Hunter the migraine worked in this story, so poor bby suffers a little. But it’s okay; he also gets cuddles and love 😂

A Moment of Stillness

Worrying and caring about his brothers all the time weighs heavy on Hunter. So, it’s a good job you’re there to worry and care about him.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: fluff, sweetness, comfort, mutual pining, use of strong prescription medicine for migraine, very light scent kink/Hunter finds readers scent comforting, pet names, cuddles, confessions of love, friends to lovers, first kiss.

Another storm had rolled in, the crack of lightning throwing flashes of bright light across your room and the rumble of thunder creating white noise as you worked late into the evening. Several mission reports had already been completed and submitted, but there was still a small stack. That was the downside of sending the boys on back-to-back missions.

Twirling your stylus in one hand, your chin rested in the other, elbow perched on the edge of your desk as you stared off through the window, watching the rain lash against the transparasteel. When you had signed up to assist the GAR, you’d anticipated adventure and thrills, near-death experiences and seeing more of the galaxy. Instead, you had politics to play with Command, bad news to break to your boys when the next mission would see them needed on a skughole of a planet, and an endless supply of paperwork. But you were doing your bit – playing your part and keeping the wheels of the GAR turning. And, ultimately, that was what you’d wanted.

A light rap at your door captured your attention between the rumbles of thunder. Abandoning your desk, stylus discarded next to your datapad, you moved across the small room you’d been given in Tipoca City. It wasn’t much, but within these four walls, you could escape. The door slid open quietly, and a soft smile crossed your lips at the sight that greeted you.

“Hey, cyar’ika.” The smoky rasp of Hunter’s voice felt like a warm blanket on a winter’s day. Eight months, you’d been working with him and his brothers, feeding them missions, directing them to the nearest outposts for supplies, and cheating the system occasionally to get them any extras they needed. They were the closest thing you had to family out here, and the longer you spent with them, the more you grew attached to them – especially to Hunter.

As you moved aside to let Hunter in, the dark circles under his eyes looked worse than before, and every step he took was slower than usual, like the weight of the galaxy rested on his broad shoulders. It wasn’t uncommon for them to swing by when they were back on Kamino, usually to drag you to their barracks for a catch-up, but something about this visit felt different.

“Hey, H.” You answer gently, sliding effortlessly into the small nickname you’d adopted for him, the door shutting once he was inside. “It’s good to see you.”

With a weary sigh, Hunter lifted a hand and rubbed at his forehead. He was exhausted, still in pain from a few injuries he’d sustained at the start of their recent back-to-back missions, and the storm had been the final straw, frazzling his senses and dragging in a migraine. While he loved his brothers dearly, they’d started their usual rounds of bickering and chatter the moment they’d stepped foot in their barracks and, in need of peace, Hunter’s feet had guided him to you.

“Here…” You kept your voice low, pulling out the chair at your desk for Hunter to sit. As he lowered himself gingerly into the seat, you rooted around in the fresher for your medkit. As you turned back to the room, your heart ached. Hunter was propping his head up with one hand, not too dissimilar to the way you’d been earlier, but his eyes were closed, brows furrowed in pain. While you appreciated that his senses were a benefit out on the frontlines, you wanted to shoot whichever Kaminoan had decided having the ability to sense electromagnetic fields would be fantastic for someone whose home was on a stormy planet.

Quietly, you approached, pulling a small blue box from the medkit. Prying it open, you popped one of the pills from its packet. “Take this.” You murmured, waiting for Hunter’s eyes to open.

Hunter had heard your approach and slowly opened his eyes at your words. He had mixed feelings about the pill you offered up – one of your personal ones, prescribed for your own migraines. The side effects you experienced were intense; he’d witnessed it firsthand while looking after you a few times. He’d only used them once before, and the side effects, thanks to his mutations, were even worse. However, he knew that come morning, should he take the tablet, his migraine would be gone. He could regroup and refocus on the next mission. 

It was worth the side effects for sweet relief.

Reaching out with one hand, he took the tablet from you, placing it onto his tongue. The medicinal tang as it fizzled made him grimace, a film coating his mouth as it dissolved. Before it kicked in, he’d have ten minutes to return to his barracks. Summoning his little energy, Hunter pushed himself up to stand, using your desk to keep his balance.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You insisted, a firmness to your voice that brokered no argument. “You won’t make it back there before collapsing from exhaustion. Take my bunk.” You gestured to the bed pressed up against the far wall. The standard issue linens had been replaced long ago with softer sheets. Extra pillows had been procured, and Lula sat nestled against them. Wrecker often handed her to you before they left, asking you to look after her until he returned. You weren’t sure if the gentle giant was doing it to try and comfort you – to reassure you they’d be back – or whether he did it because he didn’t want to risk her being misplaced. Either way, she kept you company. And the smile on Wrecker’s face whenever you returned her was brighter than Tatooine’s two suns.

“Don’t want to get in your way.” Hunter mumbled, wincing at the pounding in his head and the slight bout of nausea that rolled through him.

“I wasn’t asking, I was telling.” You double-down, taking matters into your own hands as you guided him the few steps across the room to your bed. Easing him down onto the edge of the mattress, you started to unfasten his armour. Working quickly, you unlatched each piece and set it down neatly beside your bed until he was left in nothing but his blacks. It bothered you a little that they were dirty, and he was about to get into your nice clean bed, having spent Maker knows how long wearing them, but you pushed that aside as you pulled back the sheets for him.

A tattooed hand wrapped around your wrist, and you paused in your actions, head tilting to look up into Hunter’s tired eyes. “I know you.” His voice was whisper soft, words blending a little as the medication started to kick in. You watched as he let go of you, hands slowly dragging the top half of his blacks off, depositing it onto the floor. His pants came next, kicked off haphazardly before he slumped into the bed and closed his eyes.

Most of the time, you saw the boys in their armour, sometimes just in their blacks, and on one occasion, you’d accidentally walked into their barracks just as Crosshair had been coming out of the fresher, copping a load of the man with just a towel around his waist. You’d been mortified, cheeks warming as you turned around quickly to offer privacy. He’d found it hilarious, smirk tugging at his lips as he’d made a risqué comment.

Now, you had a near-naked Hunter in your bed.

Mild panic laced through you, along with appreciation and a coil of heat. Hunter was a good-looking man who you cared for deeply, and you were a red-blooded woman. And those abs of his…

With a shake of your head, you composed yourself and lifted the sheets to cover him.

Hunter couldn’t help the slight hum of appreciation he let out as you placed the sheets over him. Your bed was much comfier than the thin mattresses he and his brothers had in their barracks, and the extra pillows felt like clouds. Not to mention, everything around him smelt like you - a soft, floral scent he’d grown to adore. Another noise slid past his lips as he felt your fingers in his hair, gently undoing the knot of his bandana. The fabric slipped away, and while he felt naked without it, he knew it would otherwise bother him while he slept.

Confident Hunter wouldn’t go anywhere, you laid his bandana on your nightstand. Turning to finish some more reports while he rested, the low rasp of his voice stopped you. “Stay with me?”

“I’m right here.” You countered gently, brows drawing downwards. You weren’t about to leave him in the room to fend for himself.

Reaching out blindly, Hunter patted the vacant spot in the bed. “You’re not.”

A soft laugh escaped you. “H…” You whispered, wanting nothing more than to comfort him but at the same time not wanting to make things weird.

“Please.” Hunter persisted.

You really couldn’t deny him anything, especially when he was unwell and vulnerable. “Alright.” You conceded, returning to the bed. Hand sliding under the sheets in the vacant spot, you found your sleep shirt. Turning your back, you quickly changed and slid into the bed. Reaching up to the panel in the wall, you adjusted the lights – turning them off entirely and plunging the room into darkness would force Hunter’s other senses to overcompensate, so instead, you settled on a dim glow.

As you settled beside Hunter, the room became a cocoon of warmth and soft shadows. The storm outside continued, but it was tranquil within the small confines of your room. Silence lingered for a moment, broken only by the rhythmic patter of rain on the window. Hunter moved slightly onto his side, trying to find a more comfortable position. He was restless, his breathing uneven, and you could tell that the pain and exhaustion were still sitting heavily with him. Without a word, you shifted closer to try and offer some comfort, and Hunter took the invitation.

Although his mind was starting to go blissfully foggy as the medication worked its magic, Hunter’s heart felt as if it were racing. For months, he’d played his cards close to his chest, quietly admiring you, enduring the teasing from his brothers whenever they noticed his gaze lingering on you, and yet now he was sharing a bed with you.

As you shifted towards him, laying on your back, he scooted in and closed the gap between you. Carefully, he slid an arm around your middle, fingers finding your waist as he pressed against you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Nose pressed to your throat, he inhaled deeply, his overworked senses relaxing as he was surrounded by nothing but you – your scent, your heartbeat, the rise and fall of your torso with every breath you took.

Your hand found its way to his hair, fingers smoothing through the brown curls, nails dragging lightly over his scalp. The tension in his muscles gradually gave way to relaxation, and, in the darkness, the worries that had weighed on Hunter’s shoulders dissipated, replaced by the comforting warmth of your presence.

For a while, neither of you spoke, content in the quiet. Hunter’s breathing evened out, signalling that the pain and stress were finally loosening their grip on him. “Need anything?” You whispered, breaking the silence.

A low, almost content hum vibrated against your neck as Hunter nuzzled closer. “No, ’m good.” He admitted, the words muffled against your skin. “Thanks to you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Anytime, H.” As the storm outside began to calm down, you found yourself lost in thought again. The war raged on, and the future remained uncertain. “I worry about you.” You confessed, your fingers still moving through his hair. “The constant missions, the danger you face, the weight on your shoulders. It’s a lot.”

Hunter lifted his head slightly to meet your gaze in the dim light. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, were hazy and soft. “Worry about you too. But we’ve got each other.” Hunter’s words were slower than usual as he struggled to piece them together through the brain fog.

You could only nod in response as Hunter dipped his head back down, pressing his face back to where it had been before. “Smell good.” He mumbled, uncaring in the moment to censor himself.

You chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever received that compliment before. But thank you.” Amusement curled through your words.

“Appreciate you. Can rely on you.” Hunter continued, unable to stop the honest words from coming out, his voice a mere murmur against your skin. He shifted, his arm tightening around you. The medication was working in full force, but he fought against it a little longer. “Need to say something.” He whispered.

Tilting your head to look at him, the dim glow revealed the faint outline of his face as he pressed his nose to your pulse point. “What is it?” You asked, curiosity lacing your words.

Hunter didn’t want to make things awkward or weird, but at the same time, he didn’t want to keep hiding things from you. And now felt as good a time as any to come clean. “I care about you. A lot.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and that earlier warmth in your body grew hotter. Hunter’s admission hung in the air.

Hunter shifted again, focusing on your delicate scent and the slightly quickened thud of your heart. His fingers on your waist started to rub soft, clumsy circles. “Think I’m in love with you.” Nervousness rolled through him. “Didn’t plan on sayin’ it like this, but I can’t keep pretendin'.” Pushing the words out took monumental effort, but he wouldn’t let sleep pull him under until he’d said his piece.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, and a sense of rightness filtered through you. “You mean you didn't plan on saying it while heavily medicated?” You couldn’t help but tease, your voice soft but steady. Hunter’s low grunt of agreement, his warm breath fanning across your skin, drew a smile from you. “You should know you’re not alone in feeling that way.” You confessed quietly, figuring it only fair that you also laid your cards on the table.

Delight bloomed in Hunter’s chest, and he inhaled deeply, his grip on you tightening. “You mean...?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed as your hand moved, fingers trailing across the darkened half of his face.

Contentment washed over him, his earlier nervousness chased away by your words and soft actions. “Wanna kiss you.” He admitted.

You felt a smile play on your lips, matching the warmth in your chest. “That can be arranged.” You whispered, leaning in as you closed the small gap between you.

Hunter’s lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. His hand slid from your waist, sweeping up your body to cup your face as he deepened the kiss, lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency. In that moment, nothing else mattered - no worries or fears, no past or future. There was only the two of you.

Hunter’s eyes met yours in the dim light as you both pulled away. “Get some rest.” You murmured, concerned by the fatigue you could see on his face. While it was sweet that he’d fought against it to share his feelings, he needed to rest. “We can figure everything out tomorrow.”

Hunter nodded, finally giving in to the tiredness as he settled against you. The pain that had etched lines on his face had begun to fade, his shoulders dropping as tension eased. With a sense of newfound comfort, he closed his eyes, safe and content with you, and allowed the soft rhythm of the rain and the steady beating of your heart to lull him into a much-needed sleep.

[stayevildarling]

Hi, could I request something with the classic 4 (Delia, Mina, Billie and Reader)? Essentially it's one of them struggling with their mental health and the others all help them, but it's Mina, not the Reader. Idk why I worded it like that- Mina's mental health has been getting worse for a while and she's (obviously) denied it, but the other 3 finally decide to try and get through to her and get her to go and get some professional help. Thank you so much! Love your stuff btw xxx

Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- Love and Lavender

A/N: Thank you very much for this request 💜 I usually struggle really badly to make characters suffer but for some reason this sparked my inspiration and put my other stuff on hold for a moment. I hope you enjoy

tags/warnings: established relationship, mention of depression, mention of suicidal intention, mention of suicide attempt, mention of overdose, mention of scoliosis, mention of doctors and hospitals, very heavy angst

word count: 5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples, @stepintomyworld

For weeks the tension at the academy had been charged , the academy that usually blooms with sunshine, light and the occasional swirl of magic in the air. The four of you had been beside each other for years, tangled deeply in each other‘s hearts and souls. You joined them a little bit later on, part of the academy and Cordelia‘s most promising student but more importantly and much quicker than anticipated you became their everything, making them whole.

It didn‘t take long until you became Billie‘s babydoll, so in love for the way you would support her dreams and desires, always helping her out with the promotion of her show, setting up some social media and spending hours to give her the recognition she deserves. In return, she would spoil you rotten, never not taking you out on her days off, giving you the entire world and making every one of your dreams come true.

Cordelia adored how gentle and kind you were with the students, wanting the other witches to thrive and help out some of the younger ones. Whenever Cordelia‘s shoulders had been tired from carrying the weight of being headmistress and supreme at the same time, you would be there, slowly easing the tension and telling her how amazing she is doing her job. And in return Cordelia gave you the same support and gentleness, turning your most darkest days brighter. The two of you always knew when something wasn‘t right, not just due to your magic but also the deep connection. And so you became Delia‘s sweetheart.

Wilhemina adored you and quickly made you her little one, enjoying to spend quiet times with you by the fire place, whispered love confessions and reading to you. The two of you enjoyed the silence, spending time without a lot of words needing to be exchanged. You always had her back, on a bad day you would make her a bath and her favorite meal without asking, when her calendar was busy, you would get her medicine for her without asking, taking her to her weekly doctors appointments without words and simply holding her hand. And she took care of your soul, always protective around you.

Lately, the careless times spent together, the comforting atmosphere around you four, was replaced by tension and darkness. It took you a while to catch up, reading Mina‘s silence for her usual quietness and walls at first but the smile had undeniably been wiped from her beautiful features, her walks a little slower each day and her usual jokes and bantering with Billie stopping altogether. Often she would come home so late from work, she would miss dinner, her plate still full in the morning, the baths you made for her still like that in the morning. She would start spending nights in her office rather than you three.

And of course the three of you noticed, Billie starting to lift the mood with her usual jokes but never connecting with the redhead, trying to spoil her with some self care gifts but never getting more than a quiet „Thank you Billie“ out of the woman and the gift baskets would simply pile up on her desk. Cordelia had tried talking to her for the longest time, getting her to open up but despite their usual connection and the supreme’s ability to break through her walls, it was hopeless. The redhead had been surrounded by darkness, unable to keep struggling with her condition, the physicial pain and the mental toll any longer. And of course you had tried, finding her in her office at night, trying to just sit beside her with some tea and an offer that you are there if she wanted. But nothing worked and the three of you had been growing increasingly concerned.

With another weekend approaching, the three of you had decided to take the afternoon off, preparing for Wilhemina‘s return from work. Billie had gotten some purple flowers for her, Cordelia preparing her favorite meal and some wine and you had drawn her a bath with her favorite lavender bath salts that you went to get for her. The three of you had decided to approach this head on together, knowing things couldn‘t keep going this longer, hating to see the woman you loved so much struggling to this extent. To your surprise, she returned on time, wondering what happened for the sudden change but happy nevertheless. The four of you began chatting quietly, a quick thank you and a forced smile for the bath, the flowers and the dinner.

„Mina darling we meant to speak to you“ Billie begins quietly, hiding her nerves by playing with her rings. The tension instantly builds as the redhead averts her gaze from either of you three, clearly not in the mood to deal with this subject. Cordelia interjects, noticing how the redhead stiffens further before she tries taking the redheads hand from across the table. „Honey we are only worried about you“ she explains, trying to slowly break through her walls which must be at an all time high right now. „There is nothing to worry about“ she snaps, her tone matching her inner annoyance. You glance at both of your blonde girlfriends, communicating in silence that this was the wrong time for this.

„Mina I understand if you don‘t want to talk but we are here for you that‘s all okay?“ you try gently, giving her a warm smile that you would quit the subject now and usually she would understand if she wasn‘t so frustrated tonight. „I said I‘m fine“ she snaps, her chair scraping off the floor before she leaves. And this wasn‘t so bad if she didn‘t leave her cane behind, the three of you looking after her with all the concern in the world. „Mina your cane“ you try but she‘s already forcing herself up the stairs. Your cutlery clangs against your plate in frustration, Billie already extracting a cigarette to cool off and hide her concern. Cordelia‘s eyes are filled with tears, never having seen her like this before and you turn to her before wiping her tears. „It‘s okay, we will sort this out and help her“ you reassure, your eyes filled with honesty.

The weekend slowly progresses, Wilhemina mostly hiding in her office as she struggles with the pain that is threatening to consume her whole. She had never meant to let it go this far, withdrawing from you three the way that she had been, snapping at you three, not appreciating the gestures but she couldn‘t snap out of her state. Her pains had been so bad, struggling to keep herself upright at times but still forcing herself to walk without her cane, punishing herself for the way she had acted and lost control. She couldn‘t fight her inner demons, the voices her parents had left in her early on, causing her to forget what the three of you had taught her long ago. Telling her that she wasn‘t worth love, that the three of you would be better off without her, that she needed to punish herself, for being weak. That her scoliosis wasn‘t that bad, that she needed to get over this.

She had been lost in this daze for weeks, struggling to keep her emotions at bay, often snapping at her bosses at work, not taking their usual abuse and losing her temper more. Hiding away in the office or at home as she knew neither of you three deserved this side of her, trying to shield you from this. But the voices had sounded much darker and harsher lately, giving her ideas that hadn‘t crossed her mind in years, making her feel like a stupid teenager again. She had been sloppy with her medicine, sometimes skipping it to punish herself, sometimes taking much more than she is meant to, in order to stop the pain she had ultimately caused herself by not being careful and on top of this, the way she usually would.

This afternoon, you once again found her cane abandoned somewhere after taking it to her before. And you couldn‘t stand seeing her like this anymore, you take her cane before knocking on her office door and waiting for a reply. It comes after a while and you step inside, finding her sit by her desk, her posture tense and her gaze averted, fixed on some point in the distance. Carefully, you close the door and walk over to her, placing the cane beside her and noticing how she had an open document on her computer but it being empty and confirming your assumptions that she hadn‘t been working on anything at all. You take a seat opposite her, glancing at her for a moment and the sight kills you. She looked so sad, as if she is carrying all the weight off this world on her shoulders, the pain written deeply behind her brown eyes and for a moment some tears swell in your eyes, quickly forcing them away, knowing you needed to be strong for her now.

„Mina?“ you ask gently but she doesn‘t look at you, lost in her own world, unaware of how truly bad and dark it had gotten. „Mina please“ you try again „I‘m worried about you, I know you don‘t like this and wanna talk about it but I care about you and we know you are hurting, you keep leaving your cane, you keep withdrawing from us and I just wanna help you like the many times you have helped us“ you plead. For the first time in a while her eyes flicker towards you and for a moment you have a glimpse of hope, thinking she may finally break her walls and talk to you but she averts her gaze just as quickly again. You sigh, unsure what to do, not knowing how to deal with her silence any longer. But you can‘t falter now, not when your whole world is sitting in front of you struggling so badly.

„Mina I can‘t stand seeing you like this, I love you, you are my whole world and I hate seeing you struggle so much. I know you are punishing yourself with this“ you carry on, gesturing towards her cane. „I know you don‘t want to withdraw from us but please come back to us.. to me.. I miss you“ this time the tears roll down your cheeks, unable to hide them for a second longer. She notices, of course she does and she considers it then, hating to see how much this was hurting you, having sworn she would never do this to any of you. The silence that follows is defeating and you sigh after a while before getting up. „Please know that I will always be here, no matter what, and if you need anything, no matter what or when please find me“ you offer her, leaving her office in tears before you sob as you make it down the hallway.

As soon as her door closes and she hears the silent sob, her own emotions get the better off her and she begins crying herself, the weight of your words hitting her like a sharp knife. She wanted so desperately to speak, to comfort you and to reach out for help at the same time but she couldn‘t, her walls keeping her from doing so and causing her to remain silent. Billie and Cordelia find your sobbing form and immediately approach you but you wipe your tears, not wanting them to worry about you when the person you loved most strugged so much and clearly needed help. „What happened?“ Cordelia asks softly before you fill them in. Their concern matching yours and unsure what else to do to help your girlfriend anymore.

That night you couldn‘t sleep, Mina never joining you in bed and her absence causing your thoughts to spiral. You left bed early, much earlier than your girlfriends who managed to find sleep eventually. And so you opt to prepare breakfast, with all the witches being out and with their families, hoping the four of you can enjoy some quiet and spend time together. You prepare for a while, making coffee, tea and making the academy smell so nice, opting to prepare your girlfriend’s favorite pastries. By the time you finish, you collect some tea and a pastry, knowing it would be a challenge to get the redhead to join breakfast and at least wanting her to eat, having missed her at dinner last night. By the time you finish, your other two girlfriends are long awake, withdrawing for a bit to find some solutions.

By the time you make it to her office, you knock but without success. You consider to leave, thinking she may not want to see you or maybe she had fallen asleep. But something within you, maybe your magic, maybe your intuition or maybe your love causes you to open the door only to find her office empty. Your eyebrows furrow as you set the little tray on her desk, opting to leave and find her before you hear a faint noise from her bathroom door within her office. You knock again but the redhead can‘t hear you, too caught up in her world of pain. She had been standing there for far too long, an entire vial of her medication in her palm, fighting an internal battle against the voices that tell her to finally put a stop to this, end her own and ultimately your suffering but something holds her back.

The concern ripples through you and so you open the door, unsure what you may find but nothing could have prepared you for what you ended up seeing. There she stands, her eyes filled with pain and tears, the same empty expression on her face, her cane again abandoned near her. Then you see the empty medicine vials on the sink before seeing her shaking hands. „Mina“ you halt, your heart stopping at the imagine in front of you. Thoughts overwhelm you about how much she had been suffering in silence, how you should have done more to help and protect her. „Mina please don‘t“ you plead, your voice coming out much more broken than you intended to.

„Please“ you plead again, scared if you stepped forward that she may take them all. Your hands and legs begin shaking, feeling like your whole world is turned upside down and ultimately in the hands of the woman in front of you. Her eyes close, a heavy silence between you two and you take a chance, stepping forward and wrapping your shaking hands around her own, which tremble at the sensation. Suddenly the pills clatter all over the bathroom floor, each noise another reminder for what could have happened. The two of you stand there frozen and you use your magic to communicate with Cordelia in silence, knowing you couldn‘t do this on your own.

The supreme sits in her office with Billie, trying to find a way to help Wilhemina, the two of them going back and forth with options before your energy and voice fill her thoughts. „Delia please I need your help in Mina‘s bathroom“ she hears and instantly she rises to her feet, the concern rippling through her upon hearing and feeling your distress. „What?“ Billie asks confused and all the supreme can mutter is a rushed „Hurry“ before she leaves her office, quickly bursting through the doors to reach you both. She halts in her steps when she sees what happened, the pills clattered everywhere, Mina standing there with her eyes closed, you holding back the tears as you still hold onto her hands, pleading with the supreme for help.

She composes herself, with a flick of her wrist making the pills disappear, Billie standing there frozen in shock, unable to move. Cordelia steps forward, giving you a nod to move aside and you do, giving her space to handle this. She steps forward, taking Wilhemina‘s trembling hands into her own. „Honey?“ she tries and when the redhead opens her eyes, tears flow freely down her cheeks. „I‘m sorry“ she whispers, filled with honesty, pain and a heavy guilt. The supreme glances at Billie, urging her to take you away from here, noticing your state and how much you are shaking. „Come on baby“ she whispers, her hands on your shoulders and guiding you away from here. She takes you downstairs and you burst out the back door into the garden, your whole world crashing down as you feel incredibly sick, trying to take deep breaths in order to calm yourself.

„Baby what happened?“ Billie asks softly, placing her hand on your back, trying to soothe and ground you at the same time. „Billie“ you pant, unable to control your breathing. „She was gonna end it, she was gonna leave us“ you begin breaking down, unable to get the image out of your head. Billie instantly takes you into her arms, holding you in her steady arms as you break down, her own tears running down her cheeks, feeling the pain radiating from you and her own shock still deep from what she had seen. The two of you stay in each other‘s embrace, holding each other and keeping yourselves from falling apart completely.

Meanwhile, Cordelia had managed to get Wilhemina to sit down, despite the gentleness, forcing the redhead to open up, unable to risk something like this happening again. And slowly, the redhead began apologizing, explaining how she never wanted things to escalate this way, her walls slowly crumbling down as the truth begins spilling from her lips. The blonde listens intently to every word, holding her through the worst of the confessions, being there every step of the way. „Darling we need to get you some help, you can‘t keep dealing with this pain and you shouldn‘t have to“ the supreme encourages and the redhead finds herself nodding, knowing this was the last straw and that she couldn‘t keep going like this, both for her and your sake.

„I‘m so sorry Y/N had to see that“ she apologizes, feeling as if she only just now realizes what happened or rather what could have happened. „Me too but I‘m so glad she found you“ the supreme whispers, squeezing her hand a little tighter. „Can we make a plan honey?“ the supreme offers and Wilhemina nods, knowing she needs it and also doesn‘t have much of a choice after what happened. She nods and Cordelia offers to take her to her doctor tomorrow, knowing they need a change for her and Wilhemina nods, the supreme reassuring she would set up the appointment and take her.

„I want to talk to her“ Wilhemina reassures but her expression falters, feeling the guilt and fear of facing Billie but especially you. „But I‘m scared“ she admits and the supreme frowns, only able to assume how she must be feeling. „I‘m with you Mina, always“ she reassures and there is a silent understanding between them, that they will do this together, that they have each other‘s back. It takes a little while before they both reach you and Billie, the medium outside smoking as you lay on the sofa, wrapped in one of Wilhemina‘s knitted blankets. Cordelia gives Wilhemina an encouraging nod before finding Billie, wanting to check on her and keep her in the loop what has been said between them.

„Y/N?“ Wilhemina‘s voice softly breaks through the silence and you immediately jump to your feet, the concern rippling through you as you see her standing there. „Are you okay?“ you ask, the fear still lingering on your features. „I‘m okay“ she reassures quietly, stepping forward as her cane echoes through the silence. „I‘m so sorry little one“ she apologizes and your eyebrows furrow, not understanding why she feels the need to apologize to you. „It‘s okay Mina, I‘m just glad..“ you begin but stop when your throat begins tightening. There is a heavy silence between you two, guilt, shame and a thick sadness and neither of you know what to do exactly until you break the silence. „May I..“ you pause, collecting yourself „May I hug you?“ you ask, just wanting to hold her and fix this.

Her world crumbles at your words and the pain and fear in it, she nods and you surge forward, holding her in your arms as if she is the most fragile thing on this planet. She melts right into you, finally feeling the distance between you both fading and for one of the first time‘s Wilhemina lets you be the one to comfort her, with each stroke of your fingers on her body, slowly melting the pain, the walls and the shame away. You whisper reassuring words that you aren‘t mad, aren‘t upset and only want her to be okay. In the end, the two of you are nestled in each other‘s arms, you holding the woman to your chest, careful of her posture. And the tension and sadness slowly fades, of course you both knew this wasn‘t over, that there was work to be done but right now, she was safe in your arms and you could make sure the world or herself couldn‘t hurt her anymore.

The evening quietens out a little as for the first time in a while the four of you have a meal together, savoring the moment despite the slight tension of unspoken words in the air. Cordelia had mentioned the doctors appointment in the morning briefly, asking you to look after her witches and classes which you of course agreed to. That night as Wilhemina lays beside you, you don‘t sleep a wink, your thoughts spiraling and also needing to make sure she is okay. You stay beside her for hours, watching her sleep, comforting her when she stirs. Cordelia had gotten rid of her medicine for now, only giving her the evening ones while staying with her.

And then they leave in the morning, Cordelia taking Wilhemina‘s hand and taking a very important and scary first step. When they returned, they both seemed brighter, both of them feeling a bit more hopeful. And then the weeks of work began, Wilhemina put on some medicine, going to therapy and the three of you there every step of the way. And of course there was no magic when it comes to these things but ever so slowly, Wilhemina managed to open up more, rest and tell you when her back was killing her, being more vulnerable and open and the distance between you replaced with closeness. And ever so slowly, the three of you didn‘t constantly fear her safety anymore, knowing she didn‘t truly want to leave but wanted the pain to go and it did, slowly and with a lot of work and support but it did.

The aftermath of it all left the three of you coping in your own ways, Cordelia more anxious than before, Billie having nightmares and you hiding the pain of what happened and how you had found Wilhemina. Billie was the first one to admit what was going on, an important first step as she confided in you and Cordelia and the two of you helped her in your own ways, establishing an evening ritual with her and talking about her nightmares a lot more which ultimately helped her. Cordelia‘s was a little harder to work through but it took your words that ultimately ended her suffering. It was a conversation in the middle of the night when you told her that no matter how much she tried, she couldn‘t control those things and had to let the fear go, trusting the universe to keep you four safe the way it had been and so slowly, the shaking of her hands stopped, the constant excessive worry and fussing over Wilhemina stopped.

And then in the end came your silent struggling, you hadn‘t told them too much about your past, your struggling with mental health related things. But the image of the pills and Wilhemina had been burnt into your brain, equally haunting you in your dreams, throughout the day and especially in the quiet moments. It hadn‘t just upset and scared you, it triggered you. And funnily enough it was Mina who noticed, asking you a few times and despite hating to lie to her, you couldn‘t tell her, knowing she would blame herself and open up the wounds she had tried so hard to close lately. But you knew you couldn‘t give into the urges that your brain sent you and so you decided to soldier through, knowing you could get over this with time.

This afternoon, another normal day at the academy, Cordelia approached you after teaching a class, asking how it went and you sat with her in her office giving her some updates. She had noticed too lately and decided to ask you about it. „How are you honey?“ she asks carefully and despite knowing her anxiety and that this may get her to worry again, you needed to confide in her. „Can I tell you something?“ you ask quietly and she nods before her hand finds you. „Ever since..“ you pause, hating to put those words in your mouth but she knew, giving you an understanding nod. „I haven‘t really told anyone this before but I used to struggle too and for weeks I have been triggered“ you admit, the tears flowing down your cheeks. „Please don‘t worry though, I don‘t want to leave you I promise but I just“ you stop yourself when you find her kneeling in front of you, pulling you into the tightest hug.

„Thank you for telling me sweetheart“ she thanks you sincerly, before wiping the tears off your face. „I know how hard this must be for you and how hard those weeks have been but I promise you, this will get better“ she assures, the same honesty that reflected in your eyes before now in her own. „And whenever you feel like this, I want you to find me and we will work through it together okay?“ she asks and you nod, reaching out your pinky as the two of you had a habit of pinky promises, ones neither of you would ever break. The two of you stay like this for a while, holding each other before she presses a gentle kiss to your temple. „Let‘s get some dinner shall we?“ she offers and you nod before taking her hand, trusting Cordelia with your whole life and knowing she was gonna be here now.

Tonight had been the first normal night in a while, both the medium and redhead returning from work at a normal time, the four of you enjoying dinner together, Billie telling ghost stories and Mina telling her work gossip and the two of them joking and bantering. Both you and Cordelia glance at each other, your features filled with relief, knowing slowly things are going back to normal. That night after the bath you had prepared for Wilhemina, she finds you sitting in the library, doing some reading before asking you if she could join. The two of you sit in silence, a much more comfortable one than the weeks before, the old silence again as you both read. „Would you like me to read to you?“ she offers and you nod before the two of you cuddle up in each other‘s arms.

In the end, you lay in her lap, making sure not to hurt her back as she reads to you. After finishing a chapter, she notices how you are looking at her, an expression she can‘t quite read. „Are you okay little one?“ she asks softly and you nod but nevertheless tears fill your vision and she instantly sets the book down before wiping your tears. „I‘m just glad you are better Mina“ you cry and she frowns then, fighting her own tears but letting them fall, having learnt a lot of things in the last few months, especislly through her therapist. „I‘m glad I‘m here and I‘m so thankful you found me, I know that can‘t have been easy“ she acknowledges, instinctively pulling you a little closer. „I love you Mina“ you whisper and she smiles lovingly before whispering „I love you so much more little one“. And the two of you end up staying like that, tangled in each other‘s arms, hearts and soul, facing the same struggles but never facing them alone ever again.

[summer-nights19]

I sleep off to the thought of having a threesome with aomine and kiss, what about you?

What a beautiful thought, anon. I liked this idea so much that I couldn't resist writing about it.

cw: Not beta read, NSFW obviously, poly gn reader

You're lying down in a bed that isn't your own as Aomine and Kise take turns pounding into you. You've locked the door, but you can still hear the background noises of music and laughter from the party downstairs. You have no idea who the host for the party is (Momoi said something about a friend of hers ?), but when you'd seen Aomine and Kise make their entrance in the living room clad in tight, navy blue suits you just couldn't help allowing your mind to wonder and your heart to race. As soon as they saw you, they both smirked, practically undressing you with their eyes, and Aomine slung you over his shoulder as Kise led you both to the upstairs floor. Warmth pooled in between your legs as you anticipated what was about to happen whilst taking in the musky scent of Aomine's cologne. AS soon as you'd entered the room, Aomine had practically ripped your clothes off.

"Daiki, I liked tha-"

"Your fault for wearing it then. I'll buy you a new one", he'd retorted as soon as you opened your mouth, before pushing you on the bed and beginning to kiss your thighs, leaving small bites and hickeys as he trailed his way up. When he got to between your legs, he pinned your wrists above your head and started to tease you with his long tongue, edging you in a way that was driving you insane. In the meantime, Kise had also gotten undressed, his abs less prominent than Aomine's but still well defined. He licked his lips as he looked at your body under Aomine's, letting his hands run down your sides. It had only been a few minutes, and your legs had already started to give way as you melted into a shaking puddle of euphoria onto the bed. Aomine was a controlling man- he took what he wanted, and you were always more than happy to give it to him. You scratched his back, moaning loudly as his pace grew faster and rougher, his tip hitting that spot that made you see stars.

Aomine finished shortly after you, pulling out just in time and cumming all over your thighs. To him, you looked irresistible like that, covered in his bite marks and seed as you looked at him with needy expression, your eyes half lidded. Just as he was about to go in for round two, KIse shoved him to one side gently.

"Now Aominecchi, remember what we said. They're not just yours,"

Grunting and giving you one last rough kiss, Aomine moved to the side as Kise entwined his limbs with your own and entered you. HIs thrusts were slower and deeper than Aomine's, but he still hit all the right spots, and soon your mind had become completely empty of anything aside from the pure pleasure of having him inside you. You babbled incoherently, begging him to go faster as you felt your climax reaching. Right after you came, he pulled out

"Get on your hands and knees, baby,". You obeyed without hesitation, managing not to fall over despite how much your legs were shaking. Kise traced his fingers along your lips and parted them gently, before shoving his dick in your mouth. You sucked him off lazily, your tongue twirling around his cock as he moved your head backwards and forwards with his long fingers. Soon, your mouth your mouth was filled with a warm and slightly salty liquid.

"Swallow it,"

You swallowed

Kise smirked at your practically blind obedience.

"What a good little cockslut we have, huh, Aominecchi ?"

Aomine joined the two of you on the bed, his fingers trailing slowly from the crook of your shoulder to your chest. He moved his head close to your ear and began to whisper teasingly

"Look at you, sweetheart. There isn't a single thought left in your head. After tonight, my name will be the only thing you'll be able to think about. It's the only thing you'll ever need to think about"

As he continued twisting your nipples in his calloused fingers, he bit your ear gently and started to leave more hickeys down your neck. You'd need a scarf to cover those tomorrow. Out of the corner of your eye, you witnessed Kise trying to get closer by pushing Aomine off. The latter reacted by shoving him away and glaring.

"So, what do you say babe ? Up for round two ? I hate the thought of you going home still smelling like Kise,"

Masterlist

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x reader: Stains[*]

I want to top him so badly. Make him all subby.

Warnings: femdom, Azzie being a sub, degradation, spitting

Visual Prompt here!

“You look so good in red.”

You offered him a wicked grin as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, pushing him back to your shared bed. With a light shove, he sat.

“Am I convincing you to expand your wardrobe?” You smiled, standing between his spread legs, his hands running up the backs of your thighs, giving an appreciative squeeze to your ass.

He chuckled, “I think I’ll need a little more convincing before I start wearing Cassian’s colour.” You snorted, hands splaying across his broad shoulders, “he can find another colour,” you whispered, leaning down to capture his mouth with yours. “Gonna only think of me when you see this shade.” You pressed your red painted lips against his one more time before you moved to your vanity table, lifting the lipstick to your mouth before smoothly reapplying it, basking in the interested look he was giving you.

You popped your lips together when you were done, swiping your index finger over the corners, keeping your eyes trained on his. Slowly, you set the reddener down, moving back over to him, swinging your hips. “Only touch me when I tell you,” you ordered softly, making him look up at you, hunger and anticipation mixing in his adoring gaze.

Slowly, you trailed your hands over his chest, gliding to his legs as you gracefully lowered yourself to a kneel, pushing his thighs slightly apart so you could undo his belt. You took no small amount of pleasure, seeing how his were already fisted in the bedsheets.

“Enjoying yourself, soldier?” Your thumb brushed in soothing strokes, meeting his heated gaze, a flush of colour at the crests of his cheeks. You could tell he wanted to touch you, but you hadn’t given him permission. “You’re not going to convince me just by kneeling, pretty thing,” he drawled, not yet willing to yield his control, “set that mouth to work.”

Arousal gathered between your legs but you pushed it aside. This was about him. “It’s no fun if you don’t let the pleasure build, Azriel.” You dipped forward slowly, keeping your gaze on his as you pressed your mouth between his legs, a thin impression of your lips being printed on the dark fabric of his leathers. “Any ideas?” You whispered, feeling him twitch under your mouth, the edges lifting into a smirk.

He feigned disinterest, leaning back on his hands casually, “you look so good down there.” One of his long legs hooked over your shoulder, pressing your face into his crotch, laughing darkly, “like it’s where you belong.”

You pulled away and he waited for your rebuttal, but all you did was smile, “you want to hurry me along?” Your tongue swiped leisurely over your bottom lip, wetting the pigment. “I think I’ll go slower,” you drawled, fingers unlatching his belt, dropping the the ties of his leathers, “and I won’t speed things up.” His eyes darkened lustfully. “Even when you beg me to.”

Heat flushed his cheeks as you pushed the material aside, your hand wrapping firmly around the base of his cock, thumb tracing over the hot skin. He inhaled sharply at the contact, fingers digging into the sheets. “Excited, Azriel?” You murmured, aware your mouth was mere inches from where he wanted it.

He gritted his teeth, “you know you can’t swallow all of me. Too much for your tight, little, throat, hmm?” It was true. You got pretty close, more than anyone else could, for sure. You knew it kind of turned him on, though. How he could stuff you full. Spill over the edges.

You arched a brow, abruptly tightening you hold on him, making him hiss. “I thought you wanted my tight, little, throat?” You scraped the edge of your nail beneath the head of his cock, making his teeth grit, a strained groan coming from his glorious mouth. You smirked, “that’s what I thought. Now why don’t you shut that mouth, and let me get on with using mine, yeah?” His lip curled, but he remained silent.

You smirked, “good, Shadowsinger.”

A growl rumbled in his chest, making arousal flare in the pit of your belly. “Look at you, following my commands like an obedient soldier.” You slowed the movement of your hand, “how perfect you are.”

You leant forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock, leaving the dark red print of your lips stamped around the slit in the head. You pulled away, tipping your gaze to Azriel’s as you raised your hand so your thumb could press against the tip, rubbing softly. “How pretty,” you drawled, making his ears warm. His breaths had shallowed, soft pants already flowing from his plush lips.

At your words, a small rush of humiliation coursed through him, the kind only you could make feel good. Deserved. He swallowed, fisting his hands tighter in the sheets. How badly he wanted to tangle his them in your hair and shove you down on his cock. Make you drool. Choke.

Fuck.

You noticed as his breaths increased, excitement flowing in your blood. “You’re being so good for me,” you murmured, making him twitch as your breaths ghosted over him. “Just a little longer,” you spoke softly. Not saying until what. Let him work himself up wondering.

Without warning, you leant forward, using the flat of your tongue to go from root to tip, his breath catching, a quiet moan tumbling helplessly from his mouth. “There you go,” you whispered, “let me hear those lovely little sounds.” You pressed another kiss to the base of his cock, printing a second set of deep rouge marks onto him, moving upwards steadily as you went higher, until it no longer stained.

You hummed disapprovingly to yourself, eyes flicking up to his. “Your cock’s taking all the pigment away.” You tipped your head to the side, using only a featherlight touch as you glided your hand over him. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Teasing.

His eyes flickered, restraint waring.

“Greedy,” you continued, “just like you.” His brow narrowed, wanting you to give him more pleasure. Demanding it with his gaze. “Taking too much, too excessively.” You pulled back to look at him, making a muscle feather in his jaw. “Stay put.”

Then you stood, releasing him as you went to your vanity table. Collecting the dark crimson stick, you returned to him, “you’re going to make me use all of this if you don’t get your gluttony under control.” You smiled, wickedly, gesturing for him to take the lipstick. “Go on,” you taunted, pushing it into his hand.

He took in a breath, raising it to your lips, about to press down. “Make sure you don’t smudge it,” you added, making him scowl.

“Shut your mouth and we won’t have any problems,” he snapped back.

It was what you’d been waiting for.

You took advantage of his raised concentration on the task you’d given him, hands landing on his shoulders as you shoved him down onto the bed, his eyes widening marginally in surprise. Your mouth landed on his soon after, prowling up his body, hands greedily sliding beneath his shirt as you settled your hips over his, pressing yourself against him. A startled moan flew from his mouth into yours, and gods if it’s wasn’t the most arousing sound you’d ever heard.

Still, you pushed his shirt over his head, breaking contact for barely a moment before you were crushing your mouth against his, completely overpowering him. And he let it happen. Quite happily if his cock was any indication.

It was hot. Wet. Moans passing so intimately between you, saliva spilling as you began to loose yourselves. Your hands traced up his chest, thumbs grazing his nipples making him jolt. You hummed into the mouth-watering kiss, “like that?” You did it again, pinching lightly and you felt him twitch against you. “Now you know what it feels like when you use those damned shadows on me.” You ground your hips down on him, making him groan, eyes rolling back slightly.

You trailed down him, sucking hard on the hot skin of his neck. Marking him. Bruising him.

You bit down. An open-mouthed moan flew out into the darkness, making him quickly silence himself, biting his lip. You tutted, “bad.” You lifted your hips away from his, halting the pleasure you’d been drowning him in. Sweat was coating his body as he involuntarily bucked his hips after you, instincts beginning to take control. All he wanted was to fuck you into the bed. Pound into you so hard you’d babble. Cry.

“Come on, pretty thing. Let me hear you sing,” you drawled, a smirk curling your deliciously tinted lips. Through his haze, he managed a small snarl, “cocky.”

Your hand gripped his jaw, tight. Nails piercing his skin as he jerked away. Again, his hips bucked. “Open,” you snarled, leaving no room for argument. He opened, blindly following your order.

When you spat in his mouth, his eyes widened marginally, cock twitching. “Swallow it,” you demanded.

He did.

You watched the roll of his throat. A devious grin played on your mouth, “there you go, just needed to be set straight, didn’t you?” You crooned, settling your hips down. He was somehow larger than before and you were almost certain he would be able to feel how wet you were through your clothes.

You kissed down his chest, teeth nipping at the sweat-slicked muscle. Once you reached his nipples, you brought out your canines, showing him everything he’d done to you on countless nights. To your utter arousal, his back arched, fingers tightening in the mattress. It was arousing.

He was arousing.

It was instinct at this point.

“You can touch me.”

It was barely a breath but his hands were desperately grabbing at your hips, pulling you tight against him. He was panting, eyes lidded as his head tipped back into the bed, basking in the feeling of the delicious friction.

You pressed your palms firmly against his stomach, pushing yourself up so you could slowly drag your hips over his, allowing his hands to guide you. Only for a bit. Reprieve.

Then you were shifting down his body, returning to your original position as he pushed up on his elbows so he could watch. You made a show of wetting your lips, as if you were about to consume the most exquisite meal. His breaths were laboured as he spread his legs wider. So desperate.

You lips quirked up at the sides, “whore.” The world alone made his eyes flutter, a soft moan slipping from his mouth, a hand pleadingly cupping your cheek. You leaned into his hand, turning your head to kiss him on the palm, just to let him know you didn’t mean it. That you were lovers. Your canines nipped at him before you returned your attention to his cock that was throbbing needily.

“Want my mouth, Azriel?” Your lips grazed the head, his hand tangling in your hair, softly pushing you toward him. You didn’t budge. You were rewarded with a sound almost like a whine, heat flaring over your cheeks at the inherent sexuality of it. His hand gripped a little tighter, pushing a little harder. A satisfied grin played on your mouth.

“Come on,” you murmured, lips brushing over his cock, “I want to know how you sound when you beg.” His cheeks were stained red, chest rising and falling rapidly, lips plump and wet. Divine. You mentally captured the scene, taking in the lighting, his soft noises, and his scent.

You groaned as his arousal filled your lungs, like some kind of aphrodisiac. He smelled so good. So mouth-wateringly good.

His lower lip was tugged between his teeth, as his breath hitched at your command. After a moment of hesitation, he fell before you completely, “please.” It was hardly a whisper. Not even a breath. And instantly you wanted more. “Again,” you ordered, voice strained with the need to hear him again.

His eyes flickered away from yours - he was nervous.

You laced your hand with the one in your hair, brining it to your mouth as you pressed a kiss to the centre of his palm, nosing along the knuckles of his scarred fingers. “You can do it,” you whispered, pressing another kiss to the heel of his palm. “Come on, Az,” you murmured tenderly.

It felt so good, hearing him moan for you. But begging? Pleading?

Fucking Cauldron.

His eyes returned to yours, uncharacteristically uncertain but very turned on. “Please,” he whispered, the sounds softly popping against your ears, “give me relief.” You nodded encouragingly, arousal already melting your resolve to withhold his pleasure.

“What do you want me to say?” His words were breaking, lilting in volume. This was apparently new territory for him. You pressed one final kiss to his palm, reminding him he was safe to yield this to you. To, for once, let down his guard completely, leave himself vulnerable.

“Tell me what you want. Everything you want me to do to you,” you requested, squeezing his hand, “every thought you’re having.” Another squeeze, “I want to know all of it.” Your eyes settled on his, calm and steady, “and I want to know your mind like I know my own.”

He swallowed, nervously. He was so unaccustomed to being like this, even by himself. Let alone someone else. When was the last time he’d be win so open with another? Had there ever been a last time?

In the end, he crumbled, melting for you. “Take me past the edge,” he requested, softly, “I want to cross it with you.” He squeezed your hand.

You guided his hand back to your hair, moving up so he could lie back; use both his hands. He barely even thought about it, hands tangling mercilessly with the plentiful stands, guiding your mouth to his cock. Pushing you down. Bucking up.

You moaned onto him, making him suck in a sharp breath, fingers scraping over your scalp. He guided you, moving you how he wanted, following his innate rhythm as you swallowed as much of him as you could. He tasted divine. So distinctly like himself.

His breath hitched as he neared that edge, your palms splaying against his thighs as you rubbed soft patterns onto his thighs. They were already trembling. A small, slightly high-pitched sound fell from his mouth as your tongue dragged along the underside of him, gliding to the dip beneath his head. You squeezed his thigh to reassure him. He squeezed back.

He twitched in your mouth, hips bucking a little erratically as he was flown closer, and closer to the peak. A soft, unprepared moan flew from his mouth as he came, hips jerking as he spilled into you, tongue swirling around his tip as you felt the hot, thick liquid hit the roof of your mouth, settling on your tongue.

Your eyes rolled as you tasted him, feeling how he coated your tongue, how perfect it felt to have him in your mouth. You swallowed, guiding him through the aftershocks. Only pulling away when his hands were guiding you to.

His breathing was shallow, eyes still heated, if a little tired.

You delivered a tentative lick to the tip of his cock, making his hands tremble as he gently tugged at your hair. Carefully, you crawled up his body, attaching your mouth to his when he pulled you closer. He moaned softly when he tasted himself on you, beginning to push upwards to have more of you but you pressed your hand against his chest. “Stay there, Az,” you whispered against his mouth, “let me look after you.” You bumped your nose against his as he melted beneath you, allowing you to kiss him slowly. Deep.

“Want a hot soak?” You murmured, hand cupping his jaw as a thumb swiped beneath his flushed mouth. He swallowed, unfamiliar with being on the receiving end of this treatment, “I’m fine.” You have him a look, “come on, Azzie,” you smiled, “you know the protocol.”

A hint of his own smile lifted the edges of his mouth as he allowed you to guide him to the wash room. Allowing you to give him the necessary love and affection after such an intense night.

[sugary-cherriboi]

Please, Wake Up

Shinjiro x Gn!Reader

Summary: You go out to search for Shinjiro, which you do. You protect him only for him to blame himself.

The Dark Hour seemed to go on forever. The Shadows getting more persistant and powerful. Or maybe you were just getting slower and weaker. Alone, there was nowhere to run or even anywhere to hide. Just you and your persona out here. Gripping on your blade, you charged towards the shadow. "GYaaaaaH!!" You screamed out as you slashed down on the shadow with a great might. It faded away as you stood up straight. You turn and bolted. Staying in one place for too long could be it for you. The only reason you were out here was for him.

Why did he have to run away? Why couldn't he just come back already?

Tears began to well as anger bubbled in your stomach. He had so much power and he decided to throw it all away? You never could really understand what went through his head. He was just so...distant. Distant from everything, even his own emotions. It got worse when those incidents happened, which is understandable.

As you ran, several shadows jumped out from a nearby alley. "Damn." You began to slash at the shadows as you tried to perserve some of your energy. Defeating them, you looked down the alley. Eyes widening, there was a glimpse of a red coat passing around a corner. Dashing, your legs took off without your input. Sliding your away around a corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. Panting as you saw the site in front of you.

Him.

He was on the ground as he seemed to breathing heavily and sweating. Rushing to his side, you knelt down. "Shinjiro!" You called his name as you grabbed onto his long, red coat. His face was in agony. Your eyes wondered down to a few holes with blood pouring out. He was obviously hurt. "Hold on!" Quickly, you pulled out your evoker and shot yourself. "Persona!" Summoning your persona, you placed your hands gently onto him. A soft blue hue emitted from your eyes as your persona leaned down and placed its hands on him as well. Tears built up in your eyes.

"W-why? Why are you here?" He grumbled as he tried to sit himself up.

You glared at him. "Why do you think so?" Obviously annoyed he'd even ask that question fully knowing the answer to.

"Leave me." He mumbled as he pushed you away weakily.

You shook your head as you went back into your position. "Not happening." His wounds were deep, but you had to try.

"You need to get outta here." He weakly spoke.

Another head shake from you. "You're a dumbass, you know that?" You glared daggers at him as you glanced over. "We're worried about you and then you go out and hurt your-"

He interrupted you by gripping onto your wrist. You turned to look him directly in the eyes. "Just leave." He pleaded. But his pleads fell deaf onto your ears as you continued to heal him. His wounds were much deeper than you had anticipated. Shaking your head again, you stopped as you slung one of his arms around your shoulders. "What are you doin-"

"I'm getting you back to dorm."

Thud!!

Both of your eyes widened as a huge shadow dropped down from above and landed right in front of you. You backed up while holding Shinjiro. "Get out of here-gyag-"You flopped him back down onto the ground causing him to wince in pain.

Grabbing your evoker, you readied for battle. "I will not let you die here." The shadow was huge, towering high above. Multiple limbs flung around. A few hands held with misshapened weapons. It didn't help you used quite a bit of your energy up trying to heal Shinjiro up. This fight may be too much for you to handle.

Gripping your hands more securely on your weapon, you readied for an attack. The shadow swung down on to the weaponized limbs, but you rolled out of the way. Quickly grabbing your evoker, you shot yourself. "Persona! Attack!" Your persona charged towards the shadow and bashed a few limbs.

WHAM!

A limb slammed you against the wall. "Gyah!" Sliding down the wall, your body dropped to the ground. Trying to pick yourself back up, your body was weak from the sudden and harsh attack from the shadow. With too many limbs, this thing was more than a challenge. Pushing yourself back up to your feet, you hunched over, gripping tighter onto your evoker. You glanced at Shinjiro. He still laid in his spot where you dropped him at. In the corner of your eye, you saw a limb reach towards him. "YOU WON"T TOUCH HIM!" You screamed out as you dashed over to him. Slamming a foot down, lowering your body down and realing your fist back, you sent your weight and fist upwards to decimate the limb reaching out. Sliding your feet, you moved to face towards the shadow with Shinjiro laying behind you. Your breath became hitched. The impact had caused more damage to you than you had first realized.

Aiming your evoker to your temple, you called out. "PERSONA!" Firing it to once again summon your persona. A burst of energy surged as it attacked the shadow again. "Again!" Another attack towards the shadow. Another. And another. Tears slowly leaked down your face, thinking of Shinjiro and what would happen to him if you didn't defeat this shadow.

A limb caught you off guard, slamming your body against the ground and pinning you. The evoker had been knocked out of your hand. You grabbed onto the boney fingers of the hand, trying to pry them off but to no avail. Kicking your legs had no effect as well. You even tried to bite it, but nothing was going to move this heavy weight. It slowly leaned closer to you.

Was there nothing you could now?

More tears fell down your face. Mitsuru and Akihiko had no idea that you had went to go find Shinjiro tonight. You doubt that they even knew of this shadow right now.

KLANG

Your eyes as you looked backwards as the shadow whipped its hand from the source of pain. An upside down view of Shinjiro who had just swung down his axe onto the shadow's hand. Time had seemed to stop for a breif moment as you stared at the man, taking in his appearance. His left arm limp with blood trickling down. His breaths were quick and sharp. His hair messy and misplaced on his face. The bags under his eyes were heavy.

He collasped to his knees, having his axe prop him up a bit. "Get your ass up. This fight ain't over."

You nodded as you picked yourself up, leaning over to pick your evoker up as well. Furrowing your brows at the shadow, your hand balls up. Raising your evoker to your temple once again, hoping that this would be the last time it would be fired off tonight. "Ready?" You questioned.

"Let's get this over with." Nodding, you both lunged towards the shadow together in sync for one final attack. Attacking the shadow with all your might, you built up energy and slammed it into the shadow's body. Shinjiro reeled his axe behind and swung into its side.

The shadow screamed out a horrific agonizing scream as it squirmed around, flailing its limbs around. Quickly, you wrapped an arm around Shinjiro's stomach and dashed away from the shadow, being cautious of the shadow may do. You had only got so far before the two of you fell to the ground.

Glancing behind you, all you could see was a glint of light as something flew towards the two of you. Instinctively, you immediaitely hover your body over Shinjiro's.

Sharp pain filled your shoulder, close to your neck, as whatever was flying towards you stabbed straight through. Blood poured out and down all over his coat, staining it a darker red. Even coughing caused the red liquid to be thrown everywhere. A firey sensation spread through your body, making you nauseous.

"H-hey." A shakey hand was placed on your arm. You fell on top of Shinjiro, causing the thing sticking through your shoulder to partially slide back through. The pain flared up again. Shinjiro sat himself up. "Hey!" He shook your shoulder.

Your vision was blurring from the teariness and the pain. A ringing buzzed in your ears as your body was trying to get you to not focus on the pain. You weakily placed a hand on what you assumed to be Shinjiro's chest. "per-so-na." Your voice was weak as a soft glow emitted from your eyes, only this time the blue was much more dull.

"Stop it!" He pleaded, but his words fell deaf. He grabbed onto your wrist. "Heal yourself damn it!!" His eyes watered a bit as he saw how stupid you were acting right now.

"Shin-ji-ro." You mumbled. "Please live." Those were the last words you spoke before your hand went limp.

"HEY!" Shinjrio screamed. "This isn't funny!" His words were met with no response. He scooped your limp body up, careful to not mess with the blade that went through you. There was only one place he could take you. The dorm. He rushed to get some help for you.

*******

"The doctor said they'll be fine for now." The three were in the cold, bland hospital room where you laid unconscious. Akihiko and Mitsuru were standing in front of the bed you laid while Shinjiro hung his head sitting on the side. All that was goign through his head was that this was all his fault. He was the reason you were laying there instead of him. "I'm afraid they have no idea when they'll wake up." Mitsuru spoke up, giving the bad news.

Shinjiro gripped onto his pant legs, cursing at himself. He wish that this would of never happened and he should of died in that alley alone.

Mitsuru and Akihiko looked towards one another as they were unsure of how to react or really comfort Shinjiro. Mitsuru soon took her leave and left the two to be by your side. Akihiko crossed his arms as he looke at Shinjiro. "It's not your fau-"

"It is too!" Shinjiro snapped. "If I hadn't of gotten close to them, then this would of never happened! I should of died in that stupid alleyway." He leaned back, crossing his arms as he turned away from Akihiko.

The white haired boy frowned. "You're a dumbass! You know that?" Akihiko was trying to come up with something to say. "You really think they'd wan-"

"Shut the hell up." Shinjiro interrupted him. "You have no idea what they want." His eyes dodge away from him as he knew what they wanted. As much he wanted to admit that he should have been the laying in that hospital bed, he knew they wanted him to live. Even for the little bit of time he had left.

"Tch." Akihiko rolled his eyes as he stomped out of the room, making sure he gently closed the door behind himself, leaving the two of you to yourselves.

All Shinjiro could do was stare at your unconscious body on the bed. Your face pale with dry cracked lips. Your hair was all out of place. Nothing about you seemed to you. Several ivs and machines were hooked up to your body. The only noise in the room was that damn machine. That occassional beep to say you were alive. To him, this was no better than being dead. Cursed to never wake up again while still alive. It was tough for him to cope with the fact that his actions lead you to this. This whole situation could of been avoided if he'd never gotten close to you. Never of survived the first attck. Or if that incident never occured. All his thoughts were plagued with regrets. Regrets of ever dragging you into this.

Sighing, he laid his head beside you, burying his face into the shitty, itchy blanket. "Please. Wake Up." Was all he mumbled as he closed his eyes, letting his thoughts eat at him before quietly fell asleep.

[kuzann]

First Meeting

So excited to finally be able to post this! It's my first time taking part in a big DP fandom event! 💜 I had an absolute blast working with @braisedhoney for @ecto-implosion 2023, and it even spawned an entire AU as well!

Go look at the art that inspired this fic! It's so good!!

You can also read this on Ao3 if you'd prefer.

Summary

The first meeting between Jazz and Dan following the timestream’s restoration doesn’t go as planned. Dan reflects on old memories and new vulnerabilities as he digs through the rubble.

Warnings

Brief gore, blood, explosion aftermath, grief, body horror, trauma flashback

The Fic

It was cold. Water dripped from the cavity’s ceiling, ran down the back of his neck and left chilling trails in its wake. He still wasn’t used to being able to feel such sensations to this degree. To being... Attached to a human body again.

The low rumble of debris continuing to settle shuddered through the cavity they’d found themselves in. A distinctly fungal smell hung in the air, of long-undisturbed earth recently awoken by the struggle of briefer creatures. It coated the inside of his mouth, now partially open to bear fangs as he stared down at the ghost who had given him so much trouble. An enemy who had at last realized the price of picking a fight with him.

Phantom, Dark Danny, the last remaining echo of a miserable future now unmade... He still wasn’t sure what to call himself. The old man had taken to calling him Dan. The name was brief, immediate, and wasted no unnecessary time. It was good enough, though he’d never let Vlad know that.

There was a choice to be made. He and his enemy weren’t the only ones down here. He could finish this wretch off for good, make sure he never dared to bother him again, or track down the other who had fallen in the collapse. With the clone body already deteriorating, already straining under his full form he could only choose one.

Humiliation had its claws in him. He’d nearly lost the fight, he was supposed to be stronger than this. The thought of putting the feeling to rest permanently was a tempting one...

“Get lost,” Dan snarled, his red eyes wide and focused and threatening even greater violence should his enemy turn down this opportunity. His breath streamed out before him like dragon smoke, its heat stolen by the chill of the hungry earth. That, too, was something he still wasn’t used to.

Vortex briefly considered his options. He was on his last leg and in the process of collapsing into an amorphous state, but the battlelust of their previous conflicts still rang through his being with an intensity that was hard to ignore. For a moment he appeared to be gathering for another strike, his body crackling with anticipation, only to suddenly surge up through the ceiling and out of the collapse.

Dan straightened and watched the point on the ceiling where Vortex had disappeared. When seconds stretched by and no ambush came he let out a long sigh and took a step back, broad shoulders drooping. He was still getting used to the power adjustments. To the new bodies. The new... Everything. And it cost him in this fight.

He scowled and turned to the span of collapse behind him.

Now to find her.

Dan knew where she’d been when they fell; Vortex had knocked her away before Dan broke through the power restraints and stepped between them. All he had to do was keep digging until he found her. Slower than using intangibility, but any ghost power would only accelerate his host’s deterioration at this point.

He pulled the first slab of concrete aside.

It had been an embarrassing fight. Frustration burned white-hot as Dan reviewed his performance and found it sorely lacking, and it wasn’t just this time. He’d utterly destroyed Vortex back in the other timeline, yet in this one he’d been clashing with the ghost for weeks as the two sought to prove who was stronger. Ridiculous. He should’ve been able to blast Vortex into nothingness long before this.

Dan grit his teeth and shifted more debris, freezing when the mass above him groaned ominously. The jumble held, dust shafting down around him as it quieted. He kept going.

This was Vlad’s fault. Always going on about how Dan had to be more careful with the new ‘power restrictions’, how the way he treated his host bodies was ‘wasteful’. If he could just get the power adjustments right this wouldn’t be a problem. Vlad just wasn’t trying hard enough.

A carelessly-shifted chunk of concrete fell back on his forearm. He growled and hurled it into the cavity behind him, ectoplasm dripping onto the dirt and debris at his feet. Dan paused to look down at the wound. The concrete must’ve had exposed rebar poking out of it to make a gash this deep and jagged.

Not good. If his body was this vulnerable already—

Dan cut the thought short and continued on.

Memories rose with the shifting dust, of the time before the explosion. Of the aftermath of the worst fights when he had to limp his way home...

—when he had only a vast empty house to return to, the silence broken by nothing save for the sound of his own movements and the creaking of a structure settling after dark.

Dan shook his head. Not the dual memories again...

It never used to be this much of an issue, back in the other timeline. But then he’d stamped out all true adversity years ago back there. Less struggle, less opportunity for such memories to slip in. A simpler way of being that wasn’t constantly flinging existential questions at his face and expecting answers he couldn’t provide.

The next span was too unstable to shift. Dan searched for a place he might be able to crawl through—difficult with his large frame—and found only a small hole. He would have to briefly use intangibility to get through this.

Did she even make it—

It’s fine, he told himself. It would be her own fault for getting involved where she shouldn’t have. She wasn’t even his Jazz...

A chill settled over him as he shifted to a different phase to the physical matter around him. Dan dove through the wall and found that it was as thin as he’d hoped it would be. He released his power and staggered a few steps as he touched down.

The clone body held. For now.

Why did she have to step in? He didn’t need her help.

But then, that was what she’d always done, wasn’t it? When his parents weren’t there for him, Jazz was.

His Jazz. The one who’d been gone for over a decade now...

—collapsed in front of their graves. A loss so complete it was a wonder he hadn’t died on the spot.

Dan clutched at his head and willed the memory back down into the abyss of subconscious. He didn’t need this right now. It didn’t make sense anyway. She wasn’t the same Jazz.

The twisting in his gut exposed the lie for what it was. Emotions he’d stifled and strangled long ago were even now resurrecting themselves as he searched beneath the cold earth.

Like a grave, the thought crept in, with coarse concrete slabs for tombstones. A grave he’d sent countless other humans to without a second thought…

It’s fine. He’d been willing to throw her away again for the sake of power. He didn’t care.

A lie, and an ill-constructed one at that. Willing to throw her away yet still so grief-stricken over losing her to begin with. Was he capable of making sense? Was it his nature to be contradictory?

He forced down another grieving memory before it could properly materialize. This had to be because of the stupid clone body dragging him back down into those pesky human emotions. Its glitchy biological programming was throwing his trauma at him again after he’d already dealt with it years ago.

If he could just keep it together—!

It was silent beneath the earth, save for his own efforts. He hadn’t once heard a cry for help from the person he was looking for.

Dread crept in and sank its teeth into the back of his neck.

She had that armor on. It could withstand a collapse like this, right? Fenton gadgets were ridiculously robust, and the Peeler’s armor was meant for high defense. She was fine.

Right?

Dan continued on and pulled another piece of concrete aside, then he sensed it.

There was something warm up ahead. The realization gave him a burst of speed.

It’s fine. She wasn’t in danger anyway. The Peeler’s armor kept her safe. He didn’t need to worry like this!

At last he broke into the cavity she’d landed in. A few dozen feet and he’d be able to put these wretched emotions to rest.

Dan forged ahead, and trod on a loose slab of concrete that shifted the ceiling above.

Debris thundered down on him and threatened to bury the cavity entirely. He brought his arms up to catch the worst of it, and the slabs fell between himself and Jazz

No, no! He was strong, the ultimate foe! It would be fine! He would make it so!

Dan gave a wordless roar as he shoved the topmost slabs off of him.

He was running out of time. Again. If he could just go faster!

Memories washed over him. He’d realized something was wrong just before the explosion, turned to fly toward the Nasty Burger, to do something, anything, to protect them. The memory played back at an agonizing pace, as if he were moving through tar as he struggled to get there in time. It was already too late. 

He lost his grip on a slab. It fell back on him and cut his right thigh open.

It’s fine. He would make it this time, push to the absolute limits of this wretched artificial body if he had to. He was stronger now. She wouldn’t be stolen from him again!

Dan remembered just in time that mindless thrashing was the last thing he wanted to do in this situation. He forced those stupid worthless emotions back down and steadied his hands as he pushed debris off of himself.

It’s fine. 

At last it came down to the final concrete slab. Dan hefted it with both arms and tossed it aside.

It’s—

He froze. She lay with her back against a slab of concrete, eyes closed behind the cracked visor despite the tumult that had just taken place before her. There was blood on the armor.

Hers—?!

A swarm of unbidden memories rose around him, of running toward the smoldering remains of the explosion—

—the bodies—

—charred but still—

—blood—

—pieces—

—unrecognizable—

A sudden, agonizing shudder shook the memories loose. The clone body was starting to give. Blood-tinged ectoplasm dripped from his hands.

Dan struggled to catch his breath and made himself look at her again.

The same. Ectoplasm shifting into blood. She’d been standing behind him when Vortex landed a severe blow earlier.

The release in tension was almost enough to drive him to his knees.

It wasn’t hers.

Dan walked to her, forcing himself to take slow deliberate steps. He stopped at her feet and leaned down.

There was a light mist clouding the inside of the armor’s visor.

She was breathing.

Jazz stirred. “Who’s there?” she asked, her voice quiet and strained. She was in pain.

“It’s me,” Dan said. Before, it would’ve been enough. His voice alone was the only introduction he’d needed in the other timeline. Now he struggled for something more to pin on to the end of the phrase. Nothing felt right.

Jazz opened her eyes and squinted up at him. She smiled. “I knew you’d come back.”

“Know-it-all,” Dan grumbled before he could stop himself. Now to muster the strength to phase them out of here—

His body gave. His form started to run, to lose its shape. Every cell screamed in agony as flesh lost its grip on bone. Dan fell to his knees. The halo appeared at his waist, returning him to the clone’s form.

He’d been forced to wear Danny’s face to survive, but he refused to wear the same clothes. The battle had been hard enough that the black leather jacket, jeans, and t-shirt would have to be replaced, even without the blood and ectoplasm leaking onto them. His boots might be salvageable if he didn’t get too much ectoplasm on them. If he was able to make it out of this, anyway. The chances of that were growing increasingly slim. He looked up to find Jazz watching him with a mix of shock and horror on her face.

“You’re—”

“The clone bodies don’t do so well when I go full form,” Dan said, looking away. He dragged himself over to her, his body screaming with pain every inch of the way, and let himself rest on the slab.

“I can’t get to my phone,” Jazz said, sounding guilty.  “The armor won’t come off, it’s dented in the back.”

What does she have to be sorry for? It was his fault Vortex showed up… Some first meeting this turned out to be...

“I’ll call the old man,” Dan said, silently chiding himself for not thinking of that earlier. And for not letting Jazz call Danny in when Vortex first showed up. He hadn’t wanted his other self to get involved…

Dan took the cell phone from an inner pocket of his jacket, his hand shaky enough to risk dropping it at any moment. He willed what steadiness he could into the limb and hit the only number he had on speed dial, then switched it to the speaker setting. In his defense he wasn’t used to having a phone again just yet. He simply hadn’t remembered during all the commotion.

“Old man?” Jazz asked as they waited.

Vlad picked up on the second ring. “So you finally decided to check in,” he said, tone clipped and impatient. “And where have you been? You disappeared hours ago—”

“Amity Park,” Dan said, cutting off the rest of Vlad’s rant. They didn’t have time for this.

“What are you doing in Amity Park!?”

“Melting under a collapsed building. Jazz is here too.”

The audio became muffled by a hand to the receiver, but Dan was very sure he could make out Vlad shouting an actual swear word into the empty lab in Wisconsin. It cleared again, and Vlad was all business when he spoke next: “I need you to turn on your phone’s tracker. Is Jasmine hurt? How badly?”

Dan looked at her.

“I don’t think anything’s broken,” Jazz said. She winced when she took a deeper breath. “But the Fenton Peeler’s damaged and pressing on my back. It hurts too much to move.”

“Alright. I’ll have to go through the Ghost Zone to get there in time,” Vlad said. There was the distant sound of equipment being moved in the background as he made ready. “If I have to blow my cover because of you—”

“Just get your ass in gear, old man,” Dan growled. Vlad would figure it out. Somehow he always did. “Lecture me after this is over.”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not even fifty yet!” Vlad snapped, then he hung up without saying goodbye.

“Are you sure he’ll be here—” Jazz began before the silence could properly close in.

“He will, I just had to make him get off the phone and focus. He hasn’t let me melt yet.” Dan brought up his other hand, squinting in the near darkness as he turned the phone’s tracker on.

“And the melting happens… Often?”

“Yeah, because he still can’t get the bodies right,” Dan grumbled. If Vlad could at least make an adult clone then maybe they’d get somewhere. He hated being stuck in a frail teen body again. “If I don’t hold back they break.”

Jazz inhaled as if to say something about that, then let the breath go instead.

Silence descended on them, filled only by the hiss of falling dust and the grumble of settling earth.

It was cold. Dan could feel it even through his jacket. Even through the pain of his body’s deterioration. In all his years of fighting he’d never run afoul of a pain like this, of having his body slowly picked apart molecule by molecule, torn by gravity as much as by the bindings within his cells coming undone. Even the Fenton Peeler’s effects couldn’t match it. Perhaps the cold was somehow sharpened by his dying nervous system, or by the breakdown in circulation. It wasn’t a subject he was familiar with. All he knew was that he was in pain, and that the cold sapped even more comfort from his predicament.

He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Vlad didn’t make it here in time. The pain would stop, but so would he.

Forever.

Jazz shifted, armor scraping against the slab at their backs, and put her near hand on his arm. She tugged at his sleeve, inviting him closer.

Dan hesitated. He still didn’t understand her attachment to him. Why she kept giving him chances he didn’t deserve. He wasn’t her Danny anymore...

Still, it was cold. Perhaps being closer would offer a little warmth. A little comfort while he waited to find out if this would be the day he met his end.

He pulled himself to her and laid himself across the arm she’d beckoned him over with. Jazz draped her forearm over him, holding him in a half-hug as they lay there. There was no warmth. The armor kept them separate and pressed into his upper back in uncomfortable ways, but he didn’t care. This was enough.

His eyes started to drift shut, his vision blurring slightly. He was running out of power. Jazz was in too much pain to move, even talking was difficult for her. They were in a sorry state.

He shouldn’t have come here on a whim without even warning her beforehand. Not when Vortex had it out for him, anyway. But he couldn’t stop thinking about what she said during that climactic battle, how she insisted that he was still part of her family even as he threatened to tear it apart in front of her eyes. Even after he’d leveled half the city.

It was something he still didn’t understand, even though he wanted to.

A pained shudder jolted through his body, bringing him back to the present.

There would be no asking why she still treated him like family for now. He had to conserve energy and hope that help would arrive in time.

Dan closed his eyes and waited.

Jazz wasn’t sure how much time had passed. In a place without sunlight or moonlight and without access to her phone she could only guess. Pain stretched everything longer than it should have been, but at least being able to hold one of her brothers brought some comfort.

She wanted to talk to him. Ask what his life was like now, if he was happy. How he arrived at where he was in the other timeline. But present circumstances made that impossible; just breathing hurt thanks to the way the armor crumpled into her upper back, and Dan was clearly so low on energy that any conversation was out of the question. It was horrifying, watching him slowly melt into ectoplasm. She could only hope that Vlad got here before it was too late.

Her eyes were closed when she suddenly became aware of another person’s presence in the cavity.

“Well, you’re in a sorry state now, aren’t you?”

Jazz looked up to find Vlad Plasmius, arms folded over his chest and one foot tapping in the dust as he glared down at Dan like a disapproving parent. The cut on his right eyebrow had become a scar, but he was looking much better than he had when she’d last seen him. There was a large metal coffin at his side, for what purpose she could only guess.

“About time you got here, old man,” Dan growled, though there was little venom left in his words.

“You’d think that a ghost with your level of experience would be capable of managing a vessel better,” Vlad grumbled as he pressed a button on the coffin’s lid. It opened with a hiss and the whir of multiple servos on its hinges, revealing a dimly-lit chamber within.

“If you’d just make the vessels better—!”

“I am not bothering Daniel because of your carelessness!” Vlad snapped. He met no resistance as he scooped Dan up and carried him over to the coffin. “Now I suggest you sit tight and think about what you’ve done, young man.”

“I’m twenty-four!” Dan howled as he glared up at Vlad.

“Then act like it!” Vlad snapped back. Despite his ire he placed Dan in the coffin with care and pressed the button to close it rather than slamming it shut himself. The two glared at each other until the lid closed, then Vlad sighed and let his head fall back. “I don’t know why he can’t just adapt to the restrictions. It’s not like they exist for no reason.” He leaned over the coffin and tapped away at a combination of buttons. A soft hum came from within, and the color of the lights on its exterior changed from red to green.

“Sorry for the wait, Jasmine,” Vlad said as he turned to her, his tone more sincere than she’d ever heard from him before. “He needed to be put into stabilization immediately.” He knelt before her and tried to get a better look. “Are you able to sit up? You mentioned the damage was on your back.”

Jazz turned herself onto her side, then pushed herself up and clutched at his arm for balance with her free hand. The crumpled armor dug a bit deeper into her ribs and shoulder blade, but she wanted out and if Vlad could get the job done then she’d take a little more pain. “Back here,” Jazz said, gesturing over her left shoulder.

Vlad shifted position, allowing Jazz to use one of his knees as a prop so she wouldn’t have to expend energy sitting upright. He leaned around and took a few moments to examine the damage. “I’ll have to cut the piece away, I don’t want to risk prying you out.”

“Okay.” Jazz tried to be patient, keep her breathing slow, but the pain was becoming unbearable.

There was a gentle heat at her back, not directly over the crumpled armor but in a rough oval around it. Knowing the solution was in the works eased the pain a little.

Jazz looked at the coffin again while Vlad meticulously worked his way through the armor. A stabilization chamber... Vlad certainly had a flare for drama to build it in the shape he did.

But he’d made it in time. Dan would live to see another day. That was what she figured at least, given that things weren’t so serious as to keep the two from arguing the way they did.

“Got it.” At last Vlad lifted the damaged section of armor away.

The relief was immediate. Jazz took her first deep breath since falling into the collapse. “Thank you,” she said, a tad breathless from sheer relief.

“You’ll need to get that looked at just to be sure,” Vlad said as she deactivated the Fenton Peeler’s armor. “Should I drop you off at the hospital?” He offered her a hand and carefully pulled her to her feet.

“It might look suspicious if I just showed up at the hospital all of a sudden,” Jazz replied after taking a moment to consider the option. “I’ll get mom and dad to take me.”

“Very well, I’ll drop you off on my way out.” Vlad took the coffin by one of its handles and hefted it with ease. He slung it over one shoulder and turned to her, offering a hand again.

Jazz let him scoop her up with one arm, and soon they were out in the open air again. Vortex was nowhere to be seen once they were above the roofline of Amity Park, he was probably either skulking somewhere or had been captured by Danny already. Hopefully the latter. He was a frustrating ghost to deal with even on a good day.

“So Dan’s gonna be okay, right?” Jazz asked, just to be sure. The Ops Center came into view over the rooftops; soon she would be home.

“Despite doing his best to make sure he wouldn’t be, yes,” Vlad replied.

“I heard that, old man!” said Dan’s muffled voice from within the stabilization chamber. It rattled briefly, as if he were banging on it from the inside.

Vlad’s frown deepened but he didn’t reply.

“Thanks for the save, Vlad,” Jazz said, still a little surprised that Vlad had done anything worth thanking him for. “Are things going...” she paused to glance at the coffin, “Okay back home...?”

“Mmm...” Vlad’s mouth drew into a thin line as he thought about it. “We’re making progress... I think. It’s still better than being alone, at least.”

Not the most encouraging reply, but not the worst either.

“I think Dan’s been picking so many fights lately because he’s trying to avoid thinking about things,” Vlad added, having given a bit more thought to the question. He went invisible as they neared Fenton Works and dove toward the alley next to it.

“Well he’s free to talk to me any time,” Jazz said as they landed and Vlad carefully let her down. “Just as long as we make sure there aren’t any hostile ghosts after him.”

“That part is up to him,” Vlad said, with a glance at the coffin as they returned to full visibility. It was strangely silent. “I certainly won’t stop him from coming to see you, just as long as there isn’t a repeat of what happened today.”

They both paused with the expectation that Dan might have something to add.

“Sorry our first meeting turned out this way,” Dan said quietly. “It won’t be the same next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jazz said with a knowing smile. “And to make sure I know when you’re coming to visit...” She took a small notebook and pen from her pocket and wrote down her phone number, then tore the page off and passed it to Vlad. “Just give me a call and we can set things up properly.”

Vlad knocked on the coffin with one knuckle. “You have her number now. And what do you say?”

“Stop acting like you’re my dad!” Dan snarled, and the coffin rattled again. There was a pause, and a sigh echoed within its confines. “Thanks, Jazz. We’ll talk again soon.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“We’d best be on our way, we have a long flight ahead of us,” Vlad said.

“Wait, why aren’t we going through the Ghost Zone?”

“Because the Fentons were just going down into their lab when I arrived and I’m not risking a fight with them or Daniel for a shortcut,” Vlad replied. “Besides, you have your little visits to plan. A few hours in the dark and quiet is the perfect opportunity to do so.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst! Coward!”

Vlad turned invisible and took off, the dust of the alley dancing in the wind he stirred up.

Jazz chuckled, and immediately regretted it as her bruised ribs shifted. She hurried to the sidewalk and up the front steps of Fenton Works. The relationship between Dan and Vlad wasn’t exactly friendly from what she’d seen, but it was progress for both of them. Vlad showed up despite Dan needling him, and Dan trusted him enough to know that Vlad would be there to help despite the insults.

They would probably be arguing the whole way home, now that she thought about it.

The confines of the stabilization chamber were comfortable enough. Dimly lit, perfect temperature, far more spacious than the Fenton thermos ever was. Vlad had even worked out a sort of localized gravity that kept Dan from being jostled as the chamber was moved. Something about using certain properties of ectoplasm in a similar way to the Ghost Zone; Dan had tuned out just after the first thirty seconds of Vlad’s explanation, so that was as much as he knew. It offered a good place to slow down and think, not that he was doing so because Vlad had suggested it.

Jazz still saw him as family. Part of him had wondered if, now that things had calmed, she might have changed her mind. Or if her words hadn’t been genuine to begin with. But what she said to him during the battle hadn’t been some desperate bid to get him to back down. She meant it.

Dan smiled. He was looking forward to seeing her again, once he was back on his feet.

In the meantime, though...

“Hey, old man,” Dan began, his smile becoming a smirk. “Are we there yet?”

“We have been flying for five. Minutes!” Vlad snapped back. “And I know you’re only asking that to annoy me!”

Dan chuckled. If Vlad didn’t regret taking the long way yet, Dan would make sure he did before they got home.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

VILLAIN won by Hero's friend as a prize at a poker game part 2

TW: tortured, suffered, abuse, captivity whump, rescue, recovery

"Good. I'll help you heal up, and in return you will share with me any intel I ask for, whether it be on you or New Villain. Deal?" Hero asked firmly. She had to know if Villain was truly committed.

Villain hesitated for a beat, before nodding weakly, his tired eyes sliding shut as he finally lost the battle to stay awake, slipping silently into unconsciousness.

Hero snapped on some gloves and brought out a suture kit, getting to work stitching up the deeper wounds and treating them with utmost care. It would certainly be a long road to recovery, but it helped that Villain had slight regenerative abilities, which allowed him to heal twice as fast as normal. But the more injuries he had, the slower the healing process would go.

It took awhile, but eventually Hero had dressed and patched every wound. There were so many, that Villain almost looked like a mummy, covered in so much gauze.

Then Hero left him to rest, returning the next day with a warm meal. Gosh, it looked like Villain hadn't had a decent meal in weeks. Villain was awake when she arrived, and he gratefully accepted the food, wolfing it hungrily down. It gave strength to his maimed form.

"...Do you remember anything about who did this to you? What they looked like?" Hero asked when he was finished.

Villain eyed her warily before answering. "Not much... They were wearing a black and red mask that hid their face when they attacked me. They took me by surprise, snatching me when I was in an alleyway with two of my henchmen. They killed them, and took me alive for their cruel games." He shuddered uneasily, hand subconsciously moving to cover the worst injury in his side.

Hero nodded thoughtfully. "The alley on 23rd street?" She clarified.

Villain's eyes widened. "What makes you think that--"

"--I've been keeping tabs on you longer than you realize," She cut him off, offering a crooked smile. "I know all your routes." She stood up from where she was sitting at bedside.

"I'm going to scout that area, see if I can find any clues about this New Villain. I'll be back later to check on you. Let you know if I find anything." She turned to leave, when Villain's hoarse voice stopped her.

"Wait! You can't go by yourself!" He coughed weakly. "You cannot underestimate this opponent under any circumstance." His eyes were wide and... surprisingly worried for his new ally.

"I'll be careful," Hero tossed over her shoulder. "I know how to stay unseen." And then she was gone.

((((I'm just going to write a summary for what happens next since I ran into a little writer's block for the middle section. I'll skip that section and jump into the next piece I wrote. Summary: Hero reached the alley and could see the weeks-old damage, signs of a fierce struggle, as well as old dried blood. She also found a small piece of red cloth from New Villain's suit that she brought back for testing, discovering that it was a strong, almost bulletproof material. She shared the findings with Villain, and decided to wait until he was fully healed before trying to track down New Villain, so that she could bring Villain as backup. Villain's power was super strength, and Hero's was ice.

This next part takes place after two weeks of searching, when they finally locate New Villain's lair and barge in to ambush New Villain and bring him down. But it turns out to be a trap, although Hero realizes it in time and dodges it, letting her anger get the better of her as she loses control of herself in rage.))))

**CONTINUED---Hero was enraged at being caught off guard. New Villain was more clever than she anticipated, standing at the front of the room looking all smug. When she avoided the trap, New Villain gave a bored eye roll, flicking a hand at his henchmen.

"Kill them," he ordered, and turned his back, unhurried as he started to leave the scene. At least a dozen of his men came charging forward with blades and guns to attack Hero and Villain.

"Think you can handle the goons?" Hero called. Villain nodded and stepped forward, cracking his knuckles loudly with a wolfish grin. "As you wish, miss," he chuckled teasingly. Then he was a hurricane of brute force, tearing into New Villain's henchmen with a controlled rage, landing blows and tossing them around with ease as though they were no more than paper dolls. It cleared the way for Hero to make her move, leaving him to deal with the men while she chased down New Villain, quickly catching up to him before he could make his escape.

"YOU!" She roared angrily.

New Villain turned to face her with a polished smile and a raised eyebrow, unconcerned by the threat she posed. "Yes?" He asked politely, all the more lethal for it.

"You're a dead man!" Hero snarled, and rushed forward to attack... when a blinding pain smashed into her side, a charge of pure electricity hitting her in the shoulder, shocking every last nerve all at once. She fell to the floor with a sharp cry of pain, white-hot agony ripping through her whole body. The pain intensified with each passing second for what seemed like forever before it sharply ended, leaving her head buzzing and muscles acting terribly. She let out a groan and rolled her head to the side to see one of New Villain's henchmen standing close by, with an electric pulse gun leveled at her.

"Thank you kindly. Now, if you would please dispose of the unwelcome intruder, it has taken up enough of my precious time." New Villain's lip curled with disgust as he looked at Hero.

The henchman stepped forward, switching the electric gun out for one with real bullets. Hero's eyes widened and she struggled to her feet, but wasn't quite fast enough to avoid it. A bullet tore through her stomach, stealing a pained hiss from her as it tore through her, leaving a fierce burning pain in its wake, while another blasted into her shoulder. But she didn't give the man a chance to let off a third shot. She used her ice powers and swept a hand toward the henchman, a powerful blast of ice leaving her fingers that smashed into the man's chest, solidifying into a cocoon of solid ice that trapped him in place.

"No one else to hide behind now," Hero panted, swiveling around to face New Villain again, radiating deadly, barely-leashed fury.

New Villain glanced at his incapacitated goon with a flicker of genuine surprise, eyes widening with dawning realization. He went for his own gun but between one heartbeat and the next Hero was onto him, driving a fist into gut hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

He stumbled backward with a broken wheeze, but Hero didn't give him a chance to recover. She snatched the wrist of the hand holding the gun and squeezed hard, until she heard several bones snap, making the gun clatter to the floor.

New Villain screamed in pain and tried to wrench his hand away, clawing futilely at her arm in a vain effort to get her to let go, but she only held on tighter, pulling him close, a dark, predatory grin spreading across her face. Colder than permafrost.

"Game. Over," she hissed dangerously, and drew her dagger from her belt, plunging it deep into his leg hard enough that it punched clean through, making New Villain shriek in agony as she yanked it back out. Then she sliced gashes across each of his ribs, taking her time and drawing out the pain, ignoring how New Villain eventually begged her to stop.

She was losing control, anger and bloodlust taking over as she reverted back to her old ways. The dark side she had long since suppressed came surging forth with vigor, and she gave into it, relished it, the heady flood of power she felt. She let the darkness out to play. She slashed mercilessly at New Villain, who tried to block whatever blows he could see coming, which wasn't much as she struck fast and hard repeatedly.

"Doesn't feel very nice, does it?!" Hero barked, and smashed the hilt of her dagger into his jaw hard enough that his head snapped back from the force of it, and he fell to the floor. "All those people you tortured... this is the price you pay for it."

"I'm... I'm sorry--" New Villain tried to apologize, desperately hoping to appease her wrath, but broke off into violent coughing as Hero kicked him hard in the gut, cracking several ribs.

"S-Stop... Please..." He choked out, his voice leaving him in a gurgle as blood filled his mouth from where she'd smashed some of his teeth in.

New Villian curled in on himself with a groan, shuddering. Hero reached down and grabbed him, hoisting him up into the air by the front of his suit, before punching her blade through his side, stealing another hoarse scream from his raw throat.

"You don't deserve such mercy," she snarled viciously, and pounded on his already badly bruised ribs.

New Villain's head weakly lolled forward as strained breaths wheezed in and out of blood-filled lungs, starting to drift into unconsciousness from the shock of the extensive injuries.

Hero pulled her arm back, about to crush his face in a final blow, when a strong hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her. She turned with an angry growl to see Villain standing there, face tightened grimly, casting her a knowing look.

"Don't do this... once you cross this line, there's no coming back," he said. "You worked so hard to become Hero, don't ruin your new life. I've been where you are, remember? But you showed me a better way. Don't let (Hero's old Supervillain name) win. You're better than this." He reasoned softly with her, averting his gaze from the ruined face of the broken person she was holding, focusing on Hero alone.

"We'll turn New Villain into the authorities... bring him to justice the right way. You don't have to be a killer again." He let go of her wrist. "Take a moment to breathe, pull yourself together again. Then we can turn him in. All right?" Villain offered a reassuring smile that instantly fell away at the terrifyingly vacant expression on Hero's frozen face.

"Hero...?" He said in confusion.

"No..." Hero growled coldly. "Death... is the only answer." Something dark and cruel twisted her face, and without breaking eye contact with Villain, she took her dagger with her free hand and slashed it across New Villain's throat in an arterial spray of blood, before dropping him to the floor.

Villain couldn't help a horrified gasp, eyes landing on New Villain as he twitched weakly on the floor, choking on the blood that filled his mouth and flooded freely out his neck and pooled beneath him. New Villain's struggles quickly faded as he bled out, until he finally went limp after one final shudder, dead.

Villain pried his horrified gaze away to look at Hero, who wore a horribly impassive expression on her face, devoid of anything but cruel intent.

"Turns out, (old Supervillain name) was the one strong enough to do what needed to be done," Hero said icily with a dry laugh, turning toward the exit. "Get in the way of my goals again, and you'll end up the same," she added viciously, delivering a deadly warning.

Villain's stomach churned with dread, and a terrifying realization dawned on him. He remembered what it had been like when (Hero's old Supervillain name) had ruled the city, all the innocent lives they had taken, the destruction and chaos they had caused. It had been a bloodbath, the city streets flooded red from unchecked violence.

And now that Hero was reverting back to her old ways... Villain couldn't let that happen. Hero had given him a taste of a better life, fixed his moral compass, and so his intention was only in the best interest of the city when he took up the fallen gun in a trembling hand, leveling it at Hero's back. Because Hero was right... Death... was the only answer...

Villain pulled the trigger and fired three rounds with deadly accuracy. Hero dropped to the floor with an angry shout, and he walked over to her as she rolled onto her back to glare at him.

"What are you... doing?" She hissed through gritted teeth.

"...What needs to be done to save the city," Villain answered, voice cracking helplessly.

"I'll... kill you... for this..." Hero snarled angrily.

Villain only looked down at her with great sadness, knowing she was too far gone to be saved. (Supervillain name) was taking over her conscience more with each passing second.

"...I know you will," Villain whispered. "Which is why I can't give you a chance to." Then he pointed the gun straight at the left side of her chest, and fired another bullet straight through her heart, a quick kill. A merciful death. Hero jerked once before falling still, and Villain let out a shaky breath. It was over. The city had been saved... but at what cost?

Villain soon became the city's new hero, its protector, but every day he knew in his heart that Hero was the only reason for the good inside him. He'd never forget what she did for him.

⏪️ Back

Masterlist

[socketballmasks]

I've been trying to figure out how to word some reflections on the last year, and how things are going. I guess I'll start with talk about production:

I don't like how I've been handling orders until now. Taking orders on a preorder basis and putting them into a backlog works, but I wasn't executing that idea that well. I had set up some calculations based on numbers that turned out to be wrong, and had other unexpected setbacks that have dragged things out a couple months longer than they should have been. I ended up spraining my ankle pretty badly near the end of the year, which put me out of all work for roughly six weeks, and then right as I got out of that, I caught covid (at a grocery store of all places), which put me out for another week. Then, I had to put much of my resin workstation toward producing christmas gifts for family, which took another week out. That could have been avoided, perhaps… but I did want to give my folks something handmade this year.

I have been rethinking my methods – to focus primarily on production so that I can deliver orders more faster and more frequently. New calculations of work time based on more accurate numbers look promising, and I am starting to put them into practice. The focus will be to have items ready before or close to their sale dates, so that all of the different factors that longer time periods introduce can be avoided.

For those of you with backlogged orders, I will be delivering them all within the first three to four months of this year. I’m not going to release another “shipping schedule” chart because I don’t want to find myself breezing past deadlines again, and possibly disappointing people that way. I’m very grateful that you all have been so patient with me. I’m closing in on being able to ship out the first of the five backlogged order batches, and anticipate fully achieving that by the end of this month. Because several customers have orders in multiple batches, and I am doing my best to combine them all, there’s a bit of a cumulative effect. Things are slower at first, as I’m not only handling the first batch, but also certain people’s orders across other batches. This picks away at the further batches that need to ship, so things may get faster as I approach the final backlogged batch. Now that I’m able-bodied and no longer sick with corona, there shouldn’t be any crazy setbacks to the backlog fulfillment process.

I don’t have much else to say here, so thank you for taking a moment of your time to read my thoughts this year. Best wishes to you and yours,

Socketball

[animeloverskylarmoon]

Byakuya Kuchiki (Bleach) Short Story: Chapter 3

You’re not usually someone who is reckless. You’re more of a strategist. Given your area of expertise, it’s more of a defense. That’s why the very large wound on your right hand isn’t what you had anticipated. You groan, trying to keep your gaze upright. You just need to make it back to the squad barracks. 

“Just a bit..further..” 

Your vision is becoming blurred. You huff, and the last step you take is the final one. Your body drops on the ground, unmoving. 

~

“Unohana-taicho!!!” 

Hanataro’s panicked voice draws the older woman's attention. She turns her head, and when she takes notice of the woman being escorted in, her eyes open. 

Hanataro is balancing your weight, and he guides you over to one of the bed’s. There seems to be blood everywhere. 

Behind Hanataro a few more reapers rush in grabbing materials. Isane marches in. 

“We found three more at the Rukongai. They were unconscious. It seems that some of their wounds were tended to, but they aren’t in much better shape. “ Isane reports. 

She begins directing the others to situate the men on the present beds. They do so hurriedly and Unohana turns back to you. 

“What happened?” 

Isane rolls up her sleeve as she gets to work. 

“There was an attack in the Rukongai. A few reapers went out to handle the issue, but the hollows were stronger than anticipated. (Y/N) volunteered to accompany me so we took different parts of the district but she..she must have ran into them. I told her if she spotted any to retreat. I felt their spiritual pressure when I got there. It was stronger than normal.” 

Unohana gets to work at healing you, and Isane rubs the sweat off her brow as she continues. 

“I think she fought them off  and she..she still stayed there to heal the others even though she was in worse shape. She could have died..” Isane sounds guilty. 

“There’s no one to blame. Please notify the head captain. We need to ensure that no one else is out there.” 

One of the reapers takes off with a nod, and Hanataro’s shaky gaze moves to your form. He’s just standing there, slightly covered in your blood. Unohana glimpses to the side. 

“Hanataro, get cleaned up and inform Kuchiki-taicho.” 

Hanataro doesn’t move immediately. 

“Hanataro.” 

He blinks, then nods. 

“Y-Yes Taicho!!” 

He takes off, running a bit clumsily. 

Unohana wanted to give some reassurance, but the wound on your arm was not the worst of it. When she tore through your robes, there was a gaping hole in your left shoulder. Something sharp had penetrated your arm. Who knows how much blood you’d lost trying to get back to the barracks. All she can do right now is her job with a hope that it will be enough. 

The reports around the barracks did not take long. Nor did the notification to Byakuya. The second Hanataro had gotten out that you were hurt, Byakuya all but disappeared. 

It took him maybe a minute to get there, and when he opened the door and saw bodies running back and forth tending to the injured, he lectured himself to hold his composure. 

His eyes searched for your body. When he did catch sight of you, there were bandages covering the majority of your chest and the entirety of your arm. Byakuya stopped at the bottom of your bed and Unohana washed her bloodied hands in the bucket at her side. 

“She’s stable, but unconscious.” Unohana informs. 

Byakuya said nothing, just watched you lying there, breathing a bit slower than he would have liked.

“I believe she rescued the reapers you see before us. Then she ran over here to get help. It seems your sense of nobility is rubbing off on her.”

Byakuya scanned the room with the three men who were actually conscious now. They looked disoriented, but otherwise well. It didn’t make sense that they were already moving unless..

“She healed when she was in that state.” 

Unohana nods at the observation. 

“Her zanpaktou was covered in blood. I think she defeated the hollows that were there. Not without injury. Her instinct should have been to retreat. I always advise my subordinates to avoid putting themselves in the line of danger if it can be avoided. She must have been terrified, yet she fought. I’m very proud of her.”

Byakuya’s eyes shifted back to your body. 

“I’m about to transfer her to another room where we can observe her for any changes. Would you like to accompany her?” 

He nodded. 

She was about to get one of the others to assist in moving you, but Byakuya stepped forward and picked you up. Unohana grew silent, observing the care he tried so desperately to hide.

“Right this way.” 

He followed. 

It was hard seeing you that way. 

The only thing he’d manage to successfully do was show no fear. 

Everyday after that when he came in, there seemed to be very little change. 

“She’s been out for a few days, her breathing is much stronger. In a week’s time she should regain consciousness. Her body is not used to battle like this. We’ll need to be patient.” 

Unohana was trying to reassure Hanataro who had been sitting by your side frequently. 

Of course he hadn’t been the only one. 

There were times she would enter and see the flowers in the vase had been changed. The pink cherry blossoms made her smile. Byakuya had been bringing in fresh ones everyday. Unoahan’s head turned to the window, wearing a soft smile. 

“Let’s give her time.” 

Hanataro nodded reluctantly, standing as he followed her out. Stopping at the door, Unohana glimpsed back. 

“I’m sure she appreciates the flowers.”

She whispered, closing the door shortly after. The second it slid shut, and a body appeared at your side. The sudden appearance caused the curtains to sway a bit roughly, but they settled after a moment. 

Byakuya just watched, studying your even breaths. The new bandages. Your hair was a bit messy, yet just as beautiful. 

“How long do you intend to rest?” 

His tone, although flat, held worry. He didn’t like it. Seeing you like this. He hoped more than anything that you weren’t in pain. Your expression looked so peaceful. 

“I made a promise to Rukia. I told her that if you wake, then I would be honest. I was not expecting her to see through this, but she had. So now it’s your obligation to wake. If you don’t, you will be responsible for me breaking a promise. That is not something that I take lightly.” 

There was still no response. Not that he truly expected one. He finally took a seat at your side, reaching out, he took your uninjured hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Please wake up.” 

It was a plea. 

When he felt a squeeze in return, his eyes opened just a fraction. Your brows were furrowed and when he heard you let out a soft sound, a part of him felt like he was holding his breath. Your head turned to the right, and when your eyes finally fluttered open, you looked tired, but so effortlessly beautiful. 

“K-Kuc..hiki-taicho..” 

It was a soft murmur, and he squeezed your hand tighter. 

It took all of two minutes for everyone to find out you were awake. 

A certain navy haired reaper was the first to come rushing in when Byakuya casually walked into the room informing Unohana that you had woken up. 

“You’re awake (Y/N)-chan!!” 

Hanataro basically threw himself at you wailing and you patted his head with a laugh as he hugged you. 

“I’m okay, it’s just a scratch.” 

You grin and Byakuya just stands at the side. 

Isane was altogether relieved at the news, and Unohana decided she would do a full check the minute they were able to pry Hanataro off your body. 

Unohana sent a glance in the noble’s direction. Standing at Byakuya’s side, she couldn’t help but tease. 

“I hope you intend to keep that promise Kuchiki-taicho.” 

It was barely loud enough for anyone but him to hear. He said nothing, but she knew heard. 

The little celebrations halted when the door to the room swung open. 

Three reapers enter and Hanataro grows tense. He recognizes the faces of those from the eleventh squad. Byakuya turns, eyes stern. You lift your head. 

You aren’t sure what you’re expecting, but when they all bow, that’s the last thing you thought would happen. 

“ARIGATOU!!” 

They yell in unison. All three males are wearing bruises. It’s obvious from where. 

“Y-You could have left us out there, but you stayed. You protected us even though we probably don’t deserve it.” 

You don’t expect the teardrops you see fall from one of them. It’s obvious that they had assumed they would die out there in the Rukongai. You understand that fear because you thought the same. 

But you fought. To get back here, to get help. To see the people you care about again. You smile. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Your cheery tone makes them look up, and when they see the glowing smile on your face, they immediately blush. They straighten and Byakuya’s gaze hardens when he notices their dazed expressions. 

“If that is all, you may leave. She needs rest.” 

The tense, bowing again. 

“HAI!!” 

Just like that they go bolting out the room. Hanataro laughs. 

“I never thought you’d get praised from squad eleven members. You’re amazing (Y/N)-chan.” His comment has you blushing. 

“A-Anyone else would have done the same!” You defend. 

Hanataro smiles, excusing himself with a bow. 

It’s become apparent that no one stands a chance against Byakuya’s death stare.

[slusheeduck]

Count Only The Happy Hours

PART I: [I][II][III][IV][V][VI][VII] PART 2: [I][II][III]

The road to the Stone Forest was clear enough, and for a brief burst of time, it felt as though Vivec and Sil would be able to sprint there in next to no time with the adrenaline singing in their veins. But the battle had been harder than expected, and Sil—drained from the fight in every which way—just barely caught himself from collapsing in the road. Vivec faltered, caught between continuing on and helping Sil. But, in the end, he turned back. Nerevar may have had his adoration, but he was hardly his brother.

            He doubled back to Sil’s side, helping the younger mer back up to his feet. Seht’s face was grim as he leaned heavily against Vivec, pale eyes flicking back and forth like gears as his brain whirred.

            “They might be dead,” he finally said, voice very quiet. “We need a plan if that’s the case.”

            Vivec grimaced. “If Nerevar’s dead, then the whole cause is gone,” he said, pulling Sil off the road and guiding him to sit. He scanned the road anxiously as Sil bent nearly in half, silver hair hanging over his face.

            “Not true,” he said, and the fierce optimism in his voice caught Vivec’s attention. “We’re still alive. If…if you continue to write, and if I can perfect my machines with the Dwemer…”

            Vivec gave a deep sigh, though he couldn’t stop the way his mouth turned up. “I truly am a terrible brother, if I keep being surprised by how you live up to your name, Seht.” He scanned down the road again. “Vas lor, sil shanta. We’ll be the light if we must.”

            It took a bit of time before Sil was ready to start going, and they moved much slower now. But it wasn’t long before they saw three shadowy figures up ahead in the road. They moved slowly, gaits limping and defeated. But even so, there was no mistaking the silhouettes.

            “Neht!” Vehk’s sharp eyes had picked out the Hortator first, and in the next breath, he was running to greet the three ahead.

            Up close, they seemed to be in even worse shape. Alandro, unsurprisingly, was unscathed save for a few cuts on his cheek. Nerevar leaned heavily against him, hardly able to put his left foot on the ground and one eye nearly swollen shut. Voryn’s legs seemed fine, but his fine robes were torn and dirty, his long hair tangled, and he cradled his right arm, the wrist bent unnaturally.

            “The n’wah organized an ambush,” he snarled by way of greeting, dark eyes blazing with fury. “We barely managed to get out alive.”

            Sil’s brows drew together. “And Grandmaster Elvasea?”

            “Dead. Long dead, by the time we got there,” Alandro said grimly. “Her whole entourage was probably killed the moment they entered Balmora.”

            Nerevar lifted his head; the pale blue of his open eye was nearly swallowed up by his pupil. “Ald’ruhn…they must be planning a concurrent attack…”

            “They did,” Vivec said. “We just barely managed to drive their forces out.”

            “And the Grandmaster?”

            “Safe. She was…incredible. Rallied the people to fight, built up their morale after the attack—I don’t know how many more we would have lost if she hadn’t been there.”

            “She’s overseeing the survivors,” Sil added. “We don’t anticipate there’s any more.”

            “Even so, let’s not dally on the road,” Alandro said, voice clipped as his star-bright eyes glanced around them. “Vehk, are you uninjured? Take Neht’s other arm. We can move quicker if we both help him.”

            Vivec wasted no time, pulling Nerevar’s arm over his shoulders. “How badly injured is he?”

            “Got a mace to his knee. Likely concussed, too, so make sure he doesn’t nod off.” Alandro rolled his eyes as he started moving. “Never learned how to step back—though they were brutal regardless. Even the Devil of Dagoth back there got hit pretty hard.”

            Vivec swallowed as they walked. “They must truly see us as a threat now. The Nords seem to have taken a page from Boethiah’s book with this.”

            “Suppose some of them must have brains, after all.” Alandro glanced back behind them. Sil hovered beside Voryn, still radiating fury as he limped along. “Don’t suppose you could heal up Voryn’s arm, Seht?”

            Sil shook his head. “My reserves were depleted in the fight. It’ll take at least a day to get my magicka where it would need to be, since I’m not a skilled healer.”

            “I can still cast just fine,” Voryn spat at Alandro. He huffed. “Dres is going to be in shambles. We can’t count on them to aid us now. The cowards are probably already drawing up an alliance with the Nords.”

            “They can’t do that!” Vivec protested.

            “They certainly can. And if Dres goes, Hlaalu will follow the gold like they always do.” Voryn spat on the ground, still incensed. “We’ve lost because of them.”

            “We haven’t,” Nerevar slurred out, head lolling against Vivec’s. “Azura…Azura is still on our side.”

            “Azura has done fu—”

            “Voryn, that’s enough,” Alandro snapped. He stared over his shoulder at Voryn, who looked as though he might argue. But finally, he huffed out a breath and looked away. Alandro kept his eyes on him for a moment longer, then sighed. “First things first. We get back to Ald’ruhn and regroup. Then we can decide how fucked we all are. All right?”

            There was no reply, but Alandro seemed to take that as an affirmative as he fixed his star-bright eyes straight ahead. His type of practicality was rarely worth writing about, if Vivec was being honest, but he had to admit, it was a great boon in times of upheaval like this.

            Nerevar’s head lolled forward as they walked, and Vehk was quick to jostle him. “Ah, ah. No time to rest yet, Neht. There’s still very, very much that we must do.”

            Nerevar rolled his head to look at him, open eye starry and half-vacant. “Vehk,” he slurred out with a dazed sort of fondness. “Do you know of the Tsaesci?”

            Vivec glanced up at Alandro. The Ashlander nodded. Keep him talking, was the silent encouragement.

            “I’ve heard their stories,” he replied lightly. “I know that they believe all waters lead to the gates of life and death, and that some say they’re serpents given the form of men.”

            “I met one,” Nerevar said, head lolling forward. Vivec coaxed it back up. “I met one. Before I came to Vvardenfell, in my travels. He showed me how to wield a sword like they did—no armor, you know. No shields. Just their blades for defense and offense.” Neht laughed, a half-delirious thing. “Said he could see my fate in my eyes, and that I’d travel to the edge of the world. I…” His eye slipped closed.

            “There must be more than that,” Vivec goaded as Alandro snapped his free hand’s fingers. “That’s a poor fate-telling, if he left it there.”

            Nerevar blinked a few times, rousing himself. He looked to Vivec, though it was clear he wasn’t quite seeing him. His gaze was faraway, though whether he was looking back to the meeting with the Tsaesci or all the way into Moonshadow was anyone’s guess.

            “I must be careful,” he said, voice soft and distant. “Because the edge of the world is made with swords.”

            Vivec smiled at that. “Of course it is,” he said. “They are the bottom row of the world’s teeth.”

            “Ald’ruhn up ahead,” Alandro said. “Vehk, you’re the quickest. Run up and send word for healers.”

            Vivec nodded, starting to pull up Nerevar’s arm. But suddenly, the Hortator’s grip tightened, and he kept him in place as he stared at the younger mer. His gaze was still elsewhere, but somehow it pierced right into Vivec’s eyes.

            “You believe we’ll succeed,” he said, voice serious and quiet. “You know what we’re doing is right, Vehk. If you don’t, we can’t go on.”

            Vivec met Nerevar’s gaze. Carefully, he reached up to loosen his grip, though he kept his hand tight around Neht’s.

            “We are the true heirs of Veloth,” he said softly, though with no small amount of feeling. “Resdayn’s freedom is our destiny, and we will find a way through.”

            Nerevar seemed placated by that, and he let his arm slip from Vivec’s shoulders. Vehk released his hand, then turned to run for help.

~

            There had been no further attacks, and under Grandmaster Almalexia’s instruction, the survivors were at work recouping after the ambush. They’d lost fewer than anticipated, though many were injured. The city wasn’t in shambles, but it was far from the haven it had been just a few hours before.

            Vivec had indeed gotten to her first, letting her know what had happened, and healers were sent to the inner council room to tend to the Hortator and Voryn. Alandro had needed no healing, and Seht very little—Hlareni, hearing they were back, had been quick to offer her own healing to him. They spoke in whispers in a corner of the room as she worked, two fair heads ducked together.

            As for Almalexia, she paced the room like a caged Durzog. “They cannot be allowed to do this without retaliation,” she spat out, bristled in indignation. If she had a sword in hand, there was no doubt she’d be slicing the air in fury. “Attacks like this must be repaid in kind. We shall find the nearest Nord encampment and…”

            “As satisfying as that would be,” Alandro interjected, “we can’t.”

            “I actually agree with the Grandmaster,” Voryn—arm healed and wrapped tightly in a sling—said, getting to his feet. “Are we to be sent scampering off after this insult?”

            Alandro rubbed his forehead. “You House mer will be the death of me,” he muttered, then huffed.

            “But it makes sense,” Almalexia shot back, golden eyes blazing. “They weren’t expecting us to best them here, even if you three had to retreat. Their morale will be low, this is the perfect time to strike.”

            “If we catch them off-guard, we may even have another Hofstaag,” Voryn added.

            “We are crippled,” Alandro snapped, hands slamming onto the table. “Minimal losses are still more losses than we were anticipating. And if you two bloodthirsty s’wits could see through your need for vengeance for five godsdamned seconds and think rationally for once…”

            “And if you could stop taking the coward’s way out—”

            “Call me a coward again, Dagoth, I dare you.”

            “By Azura, they’re loud,” Nerevar mumbled. “Vehk, tell me there’s no weapons out.”

            “Not yet.”

            “Then we’ll let them get it out of their system.”

            Vivec had set himself beside Nerevar as the healers worked on him, poised and ready to jump up if any aid was needed. But by all accounts, he seemed to be healing well—though he’d need some time to recuperate, and that was time they likely didn’t have. Now, though, the threat was passed, and they could gather themselves to think.

            Nerevar gave a long sigh as the healer respectfully bowed her head to the Hortator, declaring him well enough for now. He looked over to Alandro, Almalexia, and Voryn, still fighting, then to Seht and Hlareni, who seemed to have stopped their whispering to watch. Finally, he turned his gaze back to Vivec.

            “I was foolish,” he said, head falling back with a sigh. “We were so focused on not offending Almalexia that we didn’t consider reinforcements.”

            Vivec’s mouth twitched. “You’re much more important than you were, muthsera,” he said, coaxing a soft laugh from Neht. “You still think yourself a merchant caravaner, but you’re more than that now.”

            “So what am I, then?”

            “You’re the Hortator. A beacon for the masses, a new Veloth for the new children of Resdayn.” Vivec smiled. “I said that the Nords see us as a threat, now.”

            “I did hear that, in my daze.”

            “That’s because they now see you as we always saw you. And the Chimer love you as we love you.”

            Nerevar’s eyes shut, and he let out a long sigh. “Mm. Still, some days I feel out of my depth with this. There’s still a part of me that’s just Nerevar Mora, stepping off the boat in Seyda Neen to a motherland he’d never seen before.” He opened his eyes, looking to Vivec. “I know you write about how I’m…destined for this. But anyone could do what I do, you know. You could have been the Hortator, if you’d tried, with your clever words.”

            “But I didn’t,” Vehk said, voice soft. “Neither did Voryn, nor Alandro, nor anyone else. You did. And because of that, you must be the one to guide us through.” He glanced up as another slam came from Alandro’s hands hitting the table. “And, I think, the one to break up what’s about to be a deadlier fight than we just had.”

            Nerevar nodded. He gave Vivec a smile, patting his arm, then carefully heaved himself up to his feet. The movement finally made the three bickering mer quiet, and all eyes turned to the Hortator as he limped his way over to drop into one of the seats around the table. Vivec went to his own. A moment later, Seht came to sit beside him. Alandro, Voryn, and Almalexia glanced at each other, then each found a seat as well. The room went quiet, waiting for Nerevar to speak.

            Neht leaned forward, looking at the others around the table. “Grandmaster Almalexia?”

            “Yes, sera?”

            “Vehk said you took charge during the attack.”

            Almalexia dipped her head. A few coppery curls had escaped her braid, pooling on the table as she did so. “Yes. I’ve been trained in battle and strategy since I was young, and both Indoril forces and your own are well-trained.”

            “You have our gratitude,” Nerevar said, very seriously. “And because of that, I’d like to formally offer you a seat on our council.”

            “Nerevar, you’re concussed,” Voryn hissed.

            “I’m not; I have a clean bill of health now,” Nerevar said with a thin smile, then he looked back to Almalexia. “We need someone who can take command like you did. As I’m sure you know, we were nearly overpowered in our own ambush, and I don’t like the thought of freedom for Resdayn dying with me. In the event that I, or Alandro, or Voryn, or any of us end up in a battle we can’t win, we need someone else who can take up our cause. You, Almalexia, have proven that you are more than capable of leading in our absence.” Nerevar smiled at Almalexia, who stared back at him. “If you’re amiable, of course.”

            “I…yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I…I accept, most humbly, Hortator.” She bowed her head. “House Indoril will fight to our very last breath to ensure the Nords are driven out.”

            “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Nerevar gave a long sigh, fingers interlocking together as he looked down. “We need to plan our next move, and we need to do it now.”

            Voryn settled back in his seat. “I still think we should do what our newest councilmember suggests: strike back.”

            “And I think that’s a good way to have the Chimer end up extinct,” Alandro shot back at him. Nerevar held up his hands, and both mer quieted.

            “Vehk brought up a good point when we were chatting earlier,” Nerevar said, clasping his hands again and resting his chin against them. “We’re known now. We are the face of this revolution, and the Nords know that. I imagine that’s why they sent the fake invitation from Grandmaster Elvasea—they wanted to get all of us in one shot and kill the uprising.”

            “Well, we know their game now,” Voryn said. “So they can’t do something like that again.”

            “Perhaps not, but…even so. We’re too obvious.”

            “Are you saying we should split up?” Alandro asked. “I don’t think that’s wise, either.”

            “Neither do I,” Vivec said. “We must be seen as a united front. If we scatter, that shows that we’re frightened.”

            “And communication will be a nightmare,” Voryn added.

            “Perhaps we could disguise the council,” Almalexia said, a touch breathless in her eagerness to contribute. “I recall at the start, you all pretended to be a merchant caravan.”

            “Yes, but they know that trick,” Alandro said.

            “Not to mention that a whole pack of Indoril soldiers following us might be suspicious,” Voryn added dryly.

            “Obviously I would direct them elsewhere,” Almalexia scoffed. “They can take orders from me remotely, or Hlareni could stand in for me—she’s done so before.”

            “You’re still a Grandmaster, though,” Sil pointed out quietly. “They might not recognize you on the battlefield, but they’ll still know who you are.”

            Voryn nodded. “I imagine they know all the Grandmasters of the Great Houses. That’s why they could target Elvasea.”

            “Doesn’t that put you in danger, Voryn?” Vivec asked.

            “I’m not the Grandmaster of House Dagoth. My mother is still firmly holding on to that title.”

            “Knowing her, she might keep it even when she makes it to Oblivion,” Nerevar said, sending Voryn a smile. He sobered after a moment. “But no, disguises won’t help us at this point in the game.” He bit his lip, staring hard at the center of the table. He stayed silent for a very long time, but no one interrupted; Nerevar’s silence rarely ended in disappointment, after all. “We need to go into hiding.”

            “What?” The entire council spoke in unison, all gaping at Nerevar. He didn’t look up.

            “We must work together and we must be unified in the eyes of Resdayn,” he said. “But we cannot put targets on ourselves. The best thing we can do is to hide in the shadows until the Nords let their guard down.” He looked around the table. “Once they think we’re all talk, that we’ve been defeated, that is when we strike. And we will end this, with our allies at our side.”

            There was a moment of quiet puzzlement, but Alandro figured it out first. “You want us to hide with the Dwemer.”

            “Yes, exactly. The Nords will never think to look below ground, and Dumac will be glad to hide us as needed. They want the same thing we do.” Nerevar sat up. “And we can use the time to strengthen our bond with them, to show them that we’re indispensable allies and that they should—no, they must join with us to drive the Nords out of Resdayn.”

            There was a murmur of agreement, but Voryn sat back in his seat, frowning. “But we can’t all hide. We have our allies and our agents, but we’ll lose the trust of the Chimer if no one is above ground. Vivec can spin all the honeyed words he wants, but they’ll ring empty if there’s no one they can trust.”

            “Well, it can’t be Nerevar,” Sil said bluntly. “They’ll kill him.”

            “Voryn, too,” Vivec added. “You’ve attracted no small amount of notoriety as the Devil of Dagoth.”

            “I can stay,” Almalexia offered. “I’ve proven that I can lead, and I have the trust of Ald’ruhn and the Grandmasters.”

            “That’s why you can’t stay,” Nerevar said. “As Grandmaster, you have a target on your back as well, Almalexia.”

            “Don’t tell me we’re bringing all the Grandmasters down with us?” she asked.

            “No, but you’re a member of the council now. We can’t lose you when we’ve just gained you.”

            “I’ll stay,” Alandro said. “Nords can’t wrap their minds around Ashlanders; I imagine that’s why I didn’t get hit as much as you two did. They probably think I’m nothing but a merc.” He crossed his arms. “But the House mer up here know me well enough—maybe they don’t trust me like Voryn or Ayem here, but I can get by. And, of course, I can hide out among the clans.”

            Nerevar looked to Voryn, who nodded. He looked back to Alandro.

            “That’s wise, I think,” he said, then gingerly pushed himself up to his feet. “It’s settled, then. Voryn, Sil, Vehk, and the Grandmaster will come with me down to Dumac’s city. Alandro will stay here and manage things above ground.” Nerevar gave a long sigh. “We’ll come up with a full plan tomorrow, and I’ll send word to Dumac in the morning. For now, I think we ought to rest.” He started to walk out, then paused. “Almalexia?”

            “Yes, Hortator?”

            “I’d like to hear a more thorough account of what happened here, if you have the time.” He chuckled. “Though you will have to forgive me if I fall asleep during it.”

            Almalexia was on her feet in a moment. “Of course, muthsera. It’s just as well, Hlareni should be compiling the account of the battle. Come join us.”

            “Oh! I…well, I…” Hlareni looked to Sil as he got up, deliberating, then sighed. “Yes, of course.” She looked to Seht once more, then followed the two out.

            Voryn’s dark eyes followed Nerevar as he left the room, then he stood up as well. “Well, if we’re not sorting anything else out, I’m going to rest. Sil, you ought to as well with your magicka reserves so low.”

            “I was planning to,” Sil said quietly, then looked to Vivec. “Are you coming, Vehk?”

            Vivec’s eyes were on Alandro, a question brewing in his head. It took Seht repeating his name to get his attention. “Hm? Oh, not quite yet.” He looked up at him; for all of his talking with Hlareni, it seemed as though he hadn’t quite recovered from the shock of the day. Vehk smiled—the boy was, of course, far too grown up and mature to ask for him to stay the night, but he could gather the request well enough by the way Sil rubbed his arm. “But I’ll be by your room shortly, hla’daesohn. I just want to speak to Alandro for a moment.”

            Seht nodded, then made his way out. Vivec watched him go, then took a breath and strode over to Alandro. The ashlander’s gaze was far away, no doubt already trying to strategize their next move. He looked up curiously as Vivec approached.

            “Yes, Vehk?”

            “Let me stay with you,” Vivec said.

To his surprise, Alandro’s head tilted back, and he laughed. “Oh, absolutely not.”

A familiar burn crept up to Vivec’s face. It’d been a while since he’d been chided by Alandro, but that didn’t make him feel any less like a scolded child. “I’m an Ashlander, same as you. You know full well I’m a netchiman’s son.”

            “And you have a tongue that could rival Mephala’s daughters.”

            “I sang for an ashkhan, once.”

            “And you would do it again, then be gutted when you spoke a little too sweetly afterward.” Alandro shook his head. “I don’t know how young you were when you left your clan, but young enough to not know just how distrustful we can be. You, Vivec, reek of deceit.”

            Blood rushed to Vivec’s ears as his heart pounded. But as he opened his mouth to argue, Alandro held up his hand.

            “You have a gift, Vehk,” he said, voice soft and honest. “Your words are the reason we’re in this position, and that’s a good thing for our cause.” He rested his hands on the other mer’s shoulders, meeting his gaze with star-bright eyes. “I know you’re from the Ashlands, and you understand our home like the Ashlanders do. But you speak, you think like a House mer. You manage to exist between the two, and we need that. And if you stay with me, if the Nords find out who you are, they’ll put an arrow in your throat to shut you up.” He sighed, then gave a wry smile. “Do you remember a few years ago, when I told you to focus less on your wild accounts?”

            “Very well. You called it nonsense.”

            “And it was then. But it isn’t now.” Alandro’s hand moved to grip Vivec’s jaw, keeping his their eyes locked and deadly serious as he did. “I don’t pay lip service to you. Never have, never will. And believe me, I know how easily wounded your pride can be. So when I say this, know that I mean it wholeheartedly, as an equal and not a scolding babysitter: we need your words. Especially when Nerevar can’t be seen; you’ll be able to keep him visible even as you hide.” His eyebrows rose. “Am I clear?”

            Vivec swallowed. “Yes. Very clear.”

            Alandro smiled, and he gave Vivec’s shoulders a hard clap as he stood up straight. “Good lad.” He chuckled as he started to head to the door. “Besides, someone will need to step in for Seht when he tells old Kagrenac he’s doing things wrong. Sleep well—you’ll need it.”

            Vivec agreed vaguely, mind still reeling. Alandro was always upfront, but so rarely with anything but a critique or correction. Even if it was just to keep Vivec out of his hair…no. No, it wasn’t. Nerevar and Voryn would lie, but Alandro never would, especially not to spare feelings. He meant what he’d said.

            We need your words.

            His quills needed sharpening before they left.

~

            The next day, Nerevar’s request went to Dumac. The day after, they had their answer. And within the week, their plan was finalized: Nerevar, Voryn, Vivec, Sil, and Almalexia—along with a small entourage that included Hlareni—would make their way to one of the nearby Dwemer lifts, where they would be greeted and escorted to Dumac’s underground palace. The journey was a short one, but still required any identifying armor and insignias to be hidden away.

Both Voryn and Almalexia seemed less than pleased to don common merchant clothes, their own finery hidden away in the wagon. Sil and Nerevar, on the other hand, looked more than comfortable in their plain clothes. Vivec found the dichotomy both expected and hilarious.

Alandro had agreed to ride with them to the lift, clad in his own traditionally obscuring Ashlander clothes. He and Nerevar spoke in quiet voices as they led their caravan, no doubt arranging their next move. Hlareni had fallen in step with Sil, who tried to split his attention between her and Voryn, who in turn was speaking rather intently about the young mer’s coming of age—which, he warned, would likely happen when they were underground, and while that made things difficult if he wanted to join House Dagoth, he would be able to make a case for him when they came back out.

Vivec, meanwhile, found his way toward the back of the caravan, where Almalexia—tattoos covered and hair bound back—was keeping watch.

“Are you familiar with the Dwemer, Grandmaster?” he asked. Her steely concentration broke, and she gave him a smile as she turned to look at him.

            “I am not, but you are. As I recall, you were…raised in one of their machines because they were kind to you?”

            “Ah, that was the last draft of my birth. As of yet, I haven’t quite rectified how the Dwemer dealt with my egg.” He shrugged. “But, after my hatching, I admit I am not as familiar with them as Nerevar is. Sil’s been down a few times, but his talk of metal beasties and automatonic guardians always leaves my head spinning.”

            “I do believe that’s the first bit of truth you’ve said to me, sera,” Almalexia said, shaking her head.

            “Ah, no, no ‘sera’, no ‘serjo’, no ‘councilor’ or ‘master’. We’re both council-members now, and that makes us great friends by default.” He gave her a wide smile. “Just Vivec. Or Vehk, if you prefer, provided I can call you Ayem in return.”

            Almalexia’s brows drew together, clearly mulling over the familiarity. “I…yes. Yes, I’d like that, Cou—” She caught herself with a smile, golden eyes bright as she met Vivec’s gaze. “Vehk.”

            He nodded, very pleased to hear his name on her lips, and clasped his hands behind his back as he kept his eyes on her. Her own attention drifted, watching for threats, but her gaze kept coming back to him. Finally, she gave a huff that wasn’t nearly as irritated as she meant for it to be.

            “Is something the matter?”

            “No, quite the opposite.” He shrugged. “We’re going to be spending quite a lot of time down in the dark. So it’s of the utmost importance that I memorize just how very, very beautiful the sun is when it gets caught in your hair.”

            A flush crept to Ayem’s golden cheeks, but she put on a haughty expression. “Is this how you speak to all your friends, Vivec?”

            “No. They wouldn’t appreciate it the way you do.”

            “You don’t know that I appreciate it,” she said, trying to sound stern. “I find it overly forward, actually.”

            “Ha! Now who’s telling lies? If you believe that, then it shouldn’t be hard to believe I was taught by Fa-Nuit-Hen.”

            “In your egg.”

            “Yes, in my egg.”

            Almalexia shook her head, but a smile had already escaped. “You are a flatterer and a liar, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a mer with your boldness in either.” She looked over him for a moment. “My father would have had your tongue cut out.”

            “But you are not your father, Ayem.”

            “No.” Her mouth turned up in a smile. “No, because I’m far too curious. I can’t wait to hear the next ridiculous lie that comes from your lips.”

            “I’ll do you one better. I’ll give you a truth,” he said.

            “Oh? And what is that?” Ayem’s head tilted, clearly waiting for something ridiculous as she smiled at him. His eyes traveled over her face.

            “I meant what I said when we sparred,” he said, voice soft and far too earnest to be mere flattery. “I think you match the stars in their beauty.”

            Almalexia blinked, and she quickly looked away. But there wasn’t a bit of anger in her body; she may think him bold, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like what he said. But he left it there—any more, and he would need to start editing.

            It was just as well, because they’d reached the lift. A couple Dwemer already waited at the lever, waving at them. Nerevar took a moment to pull Alandro to him in a tight embrace, giving him a few whispered instructions or, perhaps, a few words of farewell, just in case. Then, he went to the lift. Voryn followed, giving Alandro a few parting words of his own along with a clasp of his hand. Hlareni and Almalexia both gave quiet nods and thanks. Seht was close enough that Vivec caught his farewell; Alandro reached up to ruffle the boy’s hair in the way he hated.

            “Try not to say ‘I told you so’ too much when you run circles round those architects, all right, jul? I expect you to come out on your own metal kagouti when this is over.” He pulled a small package from his bag, pressing it into Seht’s hand. “And here. Just in case I don’t see you for your birthday; it’s a big one, after all.”

            Sil looked down at it. His ever-stoic face shifted slightly, and he swallowed. “Thank you, Alandro.”

            Alandro squinted, a smile hiding beneath his mask, then ushered Sil toward the others. His star-bright eyes landed on Vivec. Like just a few days before, he set his hands on the other mer’s thin shoulders.

            “I still mean what I said,” he said quietly. “Right now, our best weapon is going to be your pen. Send as much writing as you can, and I’ll get them around.” He squinted in another hidden smile. “Make them all love Neht as much as I know you do.” Vivec nodded, serious and silent, and Alandro chuckled. “No witty quip? It is Vehk going down with them, right?” He looked over Vivec’s face for a moment. “Well. Since I’m less confident than Nerevar that I’ll get out of this alive, I may as well be honest.” He squeezed Vivec’s shoulders. “You’ve come a long way from the daggerlad that tagged along with us. I’m glad to have been fighting for Resdayn with you, and I hope we meet again to continue that fight.”

            Vivec swallowed. “I hope so, too,” he said, voice wavering more than he’d like. “Three protect you, Sul.”

            Alandro gave Vivec’s shoulders one last pat, then stepped back. It took a moment, but Vivec pulled his gaze away from the Ashlander to go join the others. Alandro gave a wave to the group, and the Dwemer accompanying them pulled their levers.            

And with that, the council—minus one—delved down into the dark.

[marlynnofmany]

This Time

Found it! By popular request (@sleepy-sheep-inn @gryphonablaze @lil-dabbler), here’s the story about someone years after a portal fantasy adventure.

740 words

~~~

I hated driving this route. But part of me was still drawn to it, with a kind of sickly anticipation that hadn’t been completely ground down by the years of disappointment. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe I’d see more than trees and ferns and long, winding road.

Maybe this time I’d feel the thrum of magic in the woods, smell the crackle of ozone, hear the distant bugle of a dragon calling me home.

This world wasn’t my home anymore. Hadn’t been since I was thirteen — the first time I was thirteen. The second time, I had to relearn how to move in a body that was soft and small, with no scars. A body that had never lost a hand to mage-fire.

I tried not to think about it now, clenching my right hand harder on the steering wheel to prove that it was there. Of course it was — why would I think there was anything wrong with it, and why was I using my left hand so much now? Hadn’t I been right-handed as a kid? I shrugged off people’s questions, claiming to be learning to use both hands just for fun. I didn’t really care if anyone bought it.

There were a lot of things I didn’t care about now.

Like the work conference I was driving north for. I’d tried to weasel out of it, but no dice. I was stuck taking the highway through the redwoods again, on a gray afternoon that had rained once and probably would again. I scowled at the wet forest as it rolled by. Checked the gas level, turned the radio on, then off again.

I wanted a distraction, but…

If I missed something because I was listening to crappy music, I’d never forgive myself.

Three more turns in silence, with no other cars on the road, and I slumped in resignation. Sighed. Opened all the windows and slowed down, taking deep breaths and listening for all I was worth.

The air was rich with damp bark, wet mulch, and the tang of wet asphalt. The redwood trees stood brown-black under feathery green leaves. Blank sky peeked through, that kind of grayish that makes it look like someone took an eraser to all the blue, or dropped this part of the world into an empty void.

If only. I could probably find my way home from a void.

I shook my head, wanting to close the windows on the breeze that carried only normal Earth scents. But of course I didn’t. As hard and pessimistic as I fancied myself to be, there was still a spark of childlike optimism, the last remnants of the determination that everything will be okay because I say so that had helped save a world years ago.

All it did for me now was open old wounds.

Specks of rain pattered onto the windshield, some finding their way onto my sweater and cheek. I pulled in one last lungful of rainy-weather smell and fumbled for the window buttons.

Wait. What was that scent? It was faint, but familiar. I knew I was deluding myself, but I froze and drove even slower. Stuck my head out into the raindrops and breathed deeply.

Phoenix musk. It couldn’t be. Aside from the obvious impossibility, this forest was far too wet for a firebird to tolerate—

The echoing hoot of an offended phoenix made me stomp the brakes with everything I had, jerking the wheel to send the car skidding into the ferns. I was out the door in a heartbeat, standing in the road and casting about desperately. Everything was quiet except for the tap of rain and the click and hiss of my car’s engine cooling down. I stepped away from the car, moving with heel-to-toe stealth like I was avoiding enemy sorcerers. My right arm rose of its own accord, as if the casting-crystal prosthesis was there ready for battle. I consciously dropped my hand to my side and listened.

Nothing. Nothing.

Then a chirp and a murmur and a snap that I felt more than heard, and a rush of heat as magic flowed toward me like water to the roots of a dry tree. Humming filled my head.

I broke into a grin and dashed into the woods, plowing past wet ferns with abandon, not caring if the water on my cheeks was from rain or tears.

“Wait for me! I’m coming!”