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eden031 · 2 days ago

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First meetings

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Pairing: Jack Abbot x intern!f!reader

Warnings: Age Gap, violence against healthcare workers, violence against violent patients, implied PTSD, threatening murder, crying, bad flirting, this is choppy af, please forgive me

Summary: After an attack by a patient retruning back to work does not go exactly as planned.

A/N: Listennnn people, I am so sorry that this took so long and this chapter is just to continue to build tension, I think I will conclude this with chapters 6 and 7, though I am not sure. I feel like the end would be more natural if I wrote another chapter during which they confess and maybe in the last chapter there is fluff and smut idk, but I still hope you enjoy this :) Also this is very, very, very losely inspired by ‚Shelter from the storm‘ by Bob Dylan

She wasn‘t sure what had shifted between them after that night, after death upon death coming their way something had changed. The tension that had been there before had not dissipated, it had begun to grow, though now there was more to it, more to the way his gaze lingered on her, more to the way she would seek him out in a crowded room. Then there was also the granola bar, she couldn’t eat one on her own now, always saving half for him, slipping it into his hand at a quiet moment.

He checked in on her more than before, it seemed that he hovered more, but he simply checked on how she was doing. Giving her more opportunities to try out something, quietly encouraging her. A warm hand on her back here, a gentle touch against her arm there.

It became a constant during her shifts, knowing that he wasn‘t far away at any given time, that he would be right next to her within the blink of an eye. For some reason it eased her mind, made her relax a little. The way she had always been a bit panicky during the shifts was now gone. Maybe because the lingering fear of him pushing her away again had finally started to dissipate.

On this particular evening shift change had gone smoothly. Standing at the nurses’ station she checked a few patient files, making sure that she knew what she was heading into. There was nothing too dramatic, though one name sounded familiar, yet she really couldn’t place it. Humming softly she looked around, most of the day shift had already left, only a few of the nurses and Dr. Robby was still lingering around. Sometimes she really wondered if Dr. Robby ever truly left this ED or if his body simply shifted to another place but his mind stayed here. Shaking her head, she checked the board one last time then started to head off towards one of the rooms she had been assigned to tonight, nothing world changing, but it was simple enough.

The tune still stuck in her head, humming softly as she started walking away, though before she was able to completely leave central a loud screech pulled her out of her thoughts. Whipping around she saw a large, burly man shove Princess to the ground, though he was not looming over the woman. His eyes snapped up, in her direction and he started stalking towards her, his gate stiff, like he was hell bent on bringing pain. Swallowing harshly she was frozen in place, fear curling up her neck as she stared at the man, she wanted to run, but then there was recognition. The guy that had cut this hand, the guy that she and Tommy had treated as their first patient together. He was only a few feet away from her now.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” he hollered, taking another few steps towards her, practically looming over her now. His hands shot up, one to her throat, the other to her scrubs, his fist bunched in the black fabric while the other hand wrapped itself around her neck, squeezing hard. “YOU FUCKING SLUT, YOU THINK YOU ARE BETTER THAN ME! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!”

Cold sweat ran down her back as she stared at him, getting light headed, panic seeping through her. Around her people were shouting, but his grip did not relent, though it felt like the grip around her scrubs had loosened slightly. Within a split second her brian made a decision, hoping that Gloria would not have her head for that. Grabbing his wrists she thrust her hip forward, pulling her knee up in the same motion. The grip on her throat and scrubs was completely gone the moment her knee connected with his groin, a howl of pain escaped the man. He took half a step back, her brain yelling at her, the fight or flight instincts kicking in the moment she had free range of motion she swung at the man, fist balled up tightly. It connected with his nose, a sickening crack echoed through the room, followed by a groan, two steps and thud, with the thud came another sickening cracking sound, his head hitting the ground. Staring at the crumpled form of the man on the ground her ears were ringing, everything around her spun like a mary go round, her own heart beat seemingly the only thing she could hear.

Her name was being called by someone, her first name, it cracked through the moment of shock like the sun breaking through thick clouds after a storm.

Looking up she saw him standing there, his eyes filled with concern, his mouth was moving, though she didn’t hear a single word, it was like someone had wrapped her in bubble wrap. Then her name fell again, two warm hands wrapping around her face.

“Hey,” his voice was gentle, gentler than it should be at that moment, she had just hit a patient, “Are you okay?” his brows were furrowed, his thumbs resting on her cheekbones.

“What?” she breathed out. Hot tears began to gather in her eyes, pain bloomed on her neck, and her hand. Glancing at her hand she could see blood, though she was not sure if it was her own or the guy’s blood. It was swollen, but not too much, it might just be a bruise. A wince of pain escaped her as she moved her neck. The spinning didn’t stop and a strange kind of nausea settled in her stomach. Trying to turn her head to look at the man on the ground Jack’s grip on her face tightened.

“Don’t look there,” his voice was gentle, he held her face in his hands, making her look at him. Shuddering breaths escaped her as she felt herself shaking.

“I think I need to sit down,” she whispered softly. He nodded, carefully his hands let go of her face, one of them went right between her shoulder blades, the other one rested on her shoulder, he slowly guided her towards one of the chairs by the nurses’ station. With so much care he navigated her to sit down, crouching down in front of her taking her uninjured hand in his.

“Alright, listen,” he gently tapped her hand, then her thigh, making sure that she was listening to him, “I am going to put you in line for an x-ray and a CT for now, just to make sure that nothing is broken or damaged,” he was still speaking in that soft tone, the kind of tone most people reserved for scared children or frightened animals. For a split second his eyes drifted towards her slightly swollen hand. She nodded, trying to only focus on the soft hazel colour that had bewitched her from the moment she had first seen them, “While you wait for an x-ray we are going to ice your hand, okay?”

She nodded, as he got up from the ground and was about to leave, she held on tighter to his hand, fear of being alone trickling through her mind. He stopped in his tracks, turning his head towards her and tilting it to the side in question. The shaking had only gotten worse and she felt like that if he left she would break down completely.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered, feeling the tears running down her cheeks. The panic that wrapped itself around her mind, the panic that had kept her going was beginning to dissipate completely. The gravity of the situation only hitting her now, she had been strangled, he had threatened to kill her. Still she would consider herself lucky if Gloria didn’t take off her head for that, an intern assaulting a patient even in self defense.

“Alright,” he stopped in his tracks, looked around and called over Mateo, telling the nurse to get an ice pack. Her hand went to her throat, the heat coming off of it in the shape of a hand, the nausea buried itself deeper.

“I treated him,” she whispered softly, trying to give an explanation for what had happened, but couldn’t find anything, “I didn’t do anything wrong,” This time it was more wretched as she spoke, the tears now running uncontrollably. It started with a single sob until she was practically unravelled, sobs and hot tears, quiet whimpers escaped her. Clinging to Jack’s hand like a lifeline while everything around her felt cold and empty, the warmth in her hand a strange sense of comfort.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” coming out in quiet whispers or louder croaks while she cried. Seeing Jack move panic set in, he couldn’t leave, though he simply shifted, standing up from the kneeling position, carefully he bent down and pulled her into an awkward hug, the angle the fact that snot was running down her face and that her hands were uncontrollably shaking didn’t make it any less awkward, though his arms around her shoulders, the warmth of him, it was all so comforting in a strange manner.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you did everything right.” his voice was soft as he held her, “You did so well,” his hand was now in her hair. “You did so well,”

—————

Her hand had not been broken, simple bruising, just like her throat, though Gloria still put her on leave for almost two weeks, not chewing her up. The hospital board insisted that she should press charges. Though she was not too sure about it, not too sure that it was a good idea to do that.

It felt like she was climbing the walls of the apartment. Tommy kept her well informed about the gossip at work, though she knew that he probably left out the juiciest, hottest bet running at the moment. Still she felt like an animal, trapped in a too small cage.

The place felt cramped during the day and during the night, she barely slept, the melatonin gummies that usually knocked her out like a light didn’t work properly at the moment. While Tommy was at work and Masie slept she was left alone with her thoughts, with the feeling of Jack’s hand in her hair, the way his lips had brushed her forehead when he had pulled away from the hug the moment Mateo told him that she was next in line for the x-ray. She still wasn‘t sure how long he had held her in that awkward position. The panic setting in during the middle of the night, the feeling of the hand wrapped around her neck shooting back to the forefront of her mind, it felt like someone was torturing her.

Coping with it was hard so she baked and cooked. She was not sure how much she had made in the last two weeks, probably enough to feed all of Pittsburgh, they now had enough food in the freezer to get them through the next month or so and all of their neighbours as well as the day and night shift at the Pitt had gotten trays upon trays of her baked goods over the course of the last two weeks.

Tommy and Masie had both tried to talk to her about what had happened, but she did not want to talk about it. She really did not, even if it was Jack that asked her to talk about it she probably wouldn’t though it appeared that he had understood it rather well when he had comforted her.

Laying in bed she listened to Tommy and Masie talking in the living room, their voices loud enough for her to hear, they thought that she was sleeping, it made sense, she should probably be sleeping, but it eluded her like it had for the past few nights.

“Are you serious?” Masie sounded mildly scandalised as they were talking. She had closed her eyes, maybe it was to hear them better, maybe it was because she actually wanted to sleep.

“Yeah, I mean, he seems really worried about her. Always asks how she is doing when we do something together.” she heard Tommy sigh. “And listen Mase, I get that you have your girl’s code or whatever, but can you finally tell me what you know?”

“I told you a million times before, Tommy, I don’t know anything,” Masie sounded annoyed as she spoke.

She knew that it was a lie. Masie knew everything, she had been the first person she had told about her encounter with Jack at the hospital, she had been one of the people in her friend group encouraging her to talk to him. Masie knew almost every little detail about the night they had spent together and the feelings of betrayal connected to the whole situation, but also the longing and that deep feeling of connection she had never felt before. Masie knew about everything regarding Jack Abbot, to Masie he would always be the hot older guy she had met at the bar. The guy that had managed to get her more attached to him than anyone else had ever managed over years of trying.

“Please! I just want to know why they knew each other, I knew from the moment they first interacted that they knew each other, but come on! It’s just a little bit of information, what harm could it do?” Tommy sounded so desperate that for a brief moment she wondered how much money he had bet. Probably something in the mid two digit range.

“You know that you are talking to someone that works in protection of data privacy for a living right?” Masie sounded so deadpan that she almost had to laugh. For some reason listening to the conversation was slowly lulling her to sleep, the last thing she heard before completely drifting off to sleep was the quiet giggling coming from Maise, Tommy was probably tickling her.

The ghost of hands in her hair was a comfort she clung to, wishing for the warmth of the blankets to be the warmth of his body.

——————

Being back at work was not how she had imagined it to be, it was strange in the best way. People were excited to see her again, telling her that they loved all the baked goods she had sent to the hospital via Tommy. People asked her how she was doing, telling her that they were glad that she was back.

Yet the halls of the hospital felt strangely hollow, they felt haunted by the memory of those eyes filled with rage haunting her every step. The sound of threats being shouted seemingly choking her just like the feeling of a hand around her neck.

Standing at the nurses’ station she glanced up at the screen, arms crossed over her chest as she tapped her foot against the tiled floor. No one seemed to notice the nervous tick, even if they did, they probably decided to not mention it. She hadn’t seen Jack yet, it made her uneasy, made her want to rip out her hair.

“A word,” a warm hand between her shoulder blades, the rough and familiar voice of Abbot right beside her, still she flinched. Slowly he guided her away from the nurses’ station, she simply followed his lead, he maneuvered them into the staff lounge, closing the doors behind them, with the soft click of the door shutting she felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“You are on edge,” was the first thing he said to her, not ‘It’s good to see you again’ or ‘Nice that you are back’, no it was this. Though it felt right coming from him. There was no harshness to it, no judgement, just a simple observation. Even maybe some worry laced in his tone.

“Yeah, how couldn’t I be?” her voice was tight as she spoke. She was excited to be back at work, of course she was, she was happy to be back. The feeling of being caged was finally gone, but that panic having taken residence at the back of her head seemed to take its place.

“Of course, but you don’t need to be,” again there was this strange tone to his voice, it wasn’t judgement, it wasn’t worry, but it also wasn’t quite fondness though she would describe it as something close to that. He had moved across the room so that he was leaning against the counter.

“I know,” she nodded, the tension in the air crackled for a moment, it was like there was a rope being pulled tighter and tighter, the single strands slowly beginning to pop. “I just need to get used to it again,” she spoke softly, turning her head to the side just slightly. Turning her head back as she heard a sharp exhale.

“I know, they haven’t gone away just yet,” she whispered, gently touching her neck. The handprint on her neck was still visible, still there, it was faint, but people would still be able to see it.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” his tone was tight now as well, like he was contemplating saying something, “You need to know something,” he paused, his hands clamping down on the counter. “I wanted to apologize to you,” That knocked all the air out of her lungs, his eyes were gentler now.

“For something you had no control over?” she tilted her head, he shouldn’t be sorry for what happened. He had no control over that, he had no idea that the man was even there.

“No, for being an old, stubborn man,” a tint of humour coloured his tone, this time it didn’t feel like someone had knocked all the air out of her lungs, it felt like he had just thrown a brick at her. An old, stubborn man, something she had called him jokingly on the night they met, calling him that when he told her that he didn’t let people in easily.

Suddenly his pager went off, a groan escaped her. He pushed away from the counter as he passed her a playful glint in his eyes.

“And thank you for the brownies,” he paused, “Just the way I like them,” with which he left the staff lounge.

A small smile on her lips as she remembered thinking that he would enjoy them greatly while she made them, a soft flutter settling in her stomach, numbing the panic slightly.

———————

Tags: @antisocialfiore @fudosl @smileykiddie08 @darksparklesficrecs @tommosgirl06

#the pitt #jack abbot #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #dr jack abbott #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #fanfic #jack abbot x female reader

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fluffiematcha · 2 days ago

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EYES LIKE JEWELS [drabble]

“jewel-like eyes, love like a galaxy”

yoon jeonghan × afab* reader | fluff , est. relationship , slice of life | warnings: my english is rusty

* i say afab but can be read as g.n reader

“Look, aren't the stars beautiful?” eyes gazing up at the starry sky, you admire with wonder the work of Mother Nature.

“Uh-huh,” Jeonghan nods absent-mindedly, his gaze fixed on something else.

He thanked his mind for deciding to get out of bed and suggested a night walk, even though his body wanted to slumber until tomorrow morning the moment he touched the bedsheets.

The look of adoration, of pure enchantment in your eyes is something worth sacrificing a few hours of rest for, he decides.

He feels warm and serene deep inside, reassured that you have managed to keep your pure side in this world that never has a minute to breathe.

You suddenly can't sit still, jumping up and down excitedly. “Look look, a shooting star! Did you see it?!” you exclaim joyfully, turning your gaze towards Jeonghan while pointing to the direction the star took.

He hums the same way he did earlier. You look at him impassively before letting out a chuckle of amusement at his reaction, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was caught red-handed.

“You don't even look at the sky!” You playfully hit his shoulder, letting out a laugh. Jeonghan simply smiles at the melodious sound of your laughter and lets out a contented sigh.

You avert your gaze at the sky once more, this time a happy smile dancing on your lips. “Thanks for taking me out. I think I really needed it.”

His brain just short-circuited. ‘Thank you God and all the deities on earth and heaven for giving me this idea.’ he thinks to himself.

Fingers intertwined with yours, he continues his contemplation of your features. And that's when he notices that your eyes...

Your eyes reflect the twinkling of the stars.

In your eyes, he sees a whole veil of stars. In your eyes, he sees the lights of the night. In your eyes, he sees a form of Nature's jewels.

Slowly, gently, without knowing how to stop, his hands come to cup your face. He turns your face towards him, meeting his gaze. “What is it?” you ask, curious about his sudden gesture. Your hands come to envelop his, gently squeezing them.

Jeonghan presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes. He realizes that even though the stars no longer illuminate your gaze, your eyes keep this light in them.

This warm, cozy glow of love. This love that warms his heart with every smile, every laugh, every little gesture from you. “Your eyes shine brighter than the stars,” he says, not at all embarrassed that he's just said one of those corny tv lines.

Because that's what he really thinks. That's what's filling his mind right now.

You look at him, flabbergasted. “What was that for?!” you exclaim after a moment of silence. Your ears feel hot, almost as if they're boiling. Your face feels hot too. You tighten your grip on his hands a little more.

Jeonghan lets out a breathless chuckle. “You're adorable.” he coos, rubbing his nose against yours.

“I love you.” the confession suddenly comed, whispered in a low, honeyed voice. His voice is so tender that you want to look away. But you can't. Because you are just as imprisoned by his charm as he is with you.

So instead, you smile at him tenderly, nuzzling in his touch as you say “I love you too” to Jeonghan, the man who holds your heart in the palm of his hand.

“jewel-like eyes, love like a galaxy”

✎ a.n. hi hi! it's been a while since the last time i wrote something. again, i don't know what to think about this, i just wanted to get it out of my head.

for those who reached the end, thank you so much for reading ✿

#𖹭 . fluffiematcha #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #jeonghan fluff #svt #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan

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inlovewithladies · 3 days ago

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Camera ready

A/n: probably a bit too soon to make another one buuut the idea struck so i had to start writing before i forget hehe OF!Abby anderson x Reader yall are roomates in college btw content warning: scent kink, subby abby, cunnilingus (abby receiving)

Your first sign should've been the ringlight, you found it in her room tucked neatly behind tubs of protein powder, weights and resistance bands in the corner. Of course, you brushed it off, thinking she was some tiktoker who you hadn't seen yet.

'But she's so chronically offline?' your brain tried to reason. You pushed it to the back of your mind before you could ponder on it for too long.

Then there were the noises, the little creak of her mattress next door, quiet grunting. Okay, weird but maybe she just likes to work out at weird hours! You dont get a killer figure like that just sitting on your ass all day. Even if she was watching porn or whatever, it was none of your business right? Though never in your wildest dreams did you think that Abby anderson, your sweet, introverted roomate was making porn. The discovery was an accident. You had forgotten your hoodie in Abby's bedroom so naturally you wanted to get it back. It was around eight pm at this point, Abby hadn't come out of her room in around thirty minutes. Only indication of her presence was the light coming from under her door.

Knocking three times, you slowly opened the door. The room was warm and well lit by the ring light, the gentle scent of the pine soap she always uses hung in the air, along with something muskier, sweatier.

Abby was spread out on her bed, legs spread, back arched. She was naked besides the grey sports bra but even that was pushed up to reveal her small tits, pink nipples erect from the air

One hand was between her legs, two fingers pumping in and out of her cunt while her other hand pressed something to her face.... your hoodie.. "fuck.. you always smell so fuckin' good- want you to bend me over so bad..." at this point you werent sure if she was talking about you or to the audience watching from her phone.

You should have backed off, closed the door and pretend you hadn't seen what you did, but you stayed, watching as her flushed face contorted in pleasure, her nose straining to take in bigger whiffs of you from the hoodie.

She was about to cum, you could tell, her face flushed red and her mouth was making a perfect 'o'. Thats when you decided to reveal yourself. "Putting on a show, Abs?" you ask nonchalantly, as if you hadnt caught your friend fucking herself to you. she shot up and tried to pull her bra back over herself, only managing to cover one boob. "shit!- I thought you weren't coming back till later," she stammered. Her body curled into itself like she wanted the earth to swallow her whole. "I-i was gonna wash it, i swear. i just.. i missed you, and-" you silenced her with a deep kiss to her lips. when you pulled away both of you were breathless, looking into eachother's eyes. you looked back at the phone still posted up on the table. "that thing still rolling?" you ask huskily. Abby swallows and nods. "good." You trail your hand up her thigh, stopping at her slightly sweaty abs. you tapped her abdomen twice as a way to tell her to lay back. she obliges of course, shuddering under your touch, eyes wide, lips parted. "You were thinking about me while you fucked yourself, baby?" "Y-yes.. yeah i- fuck, im sorry" you didnt respond, instead kissing a path down her neck while she completely took her bra off. Leaving a wet trail from her collarbone, taking the time to suck on her nipple for a moment before finally stopping at your main course. wet, pink, pulsating perfection lay in front of you, her hole clenching around nothing at all, as if she was aching for stimulation, her blonde bush the icing on an already delicious cake. You grabbed the phone from it's stand to give it a better view.

'finally' you thought. you'd wanted abby for months, since she moved in actually. how could you not? her pretty face, solid muscles and kind demeanor were far too much to resist. but you didnt focus on that for now. for now, your only priority was getting her off on your tongue. so you dived in, pressing hot, wet kisses to the skin surrounding her entrance. when your pressed your tongue flat to the general area of her cunt, you heard her breath hitch. you drag your tongue slowly up, focusing on her clit, peppering kisses to it with a gently suck. "Fuck..!" she gasps, trying to cover her mouth with her hand, you slapped it away. "dont. let them hear you baby" the phone was nearly forgotten, little pings could be heard as donations poured in as you readily lapped up her juices. your tongue flattened to grind against her, the gentle ridges stimulating her much better than her fingers could. abbys hand flew to your hair. your left hand comes up to rub her clit while you move your mouth to focus on her pussy.

you tongue prodded inside of her, licking wherever it could. Abby got louder, she swore she could never get off by herself again. "ohmygodohmygodohmygod, i cant, your so fucking good" you chuckled into her cunt, the vibrations only stimulating her further. abbys legs are shaking on your shoulders, muscles twitching like shes about to collapse, though you dont let up, not when her grip in your hair tightened, not when she started sobbing broken pleas of "Dont fuckin' stop- please dont stop, please!" you look up for a moment and you lock eyes. her eyes, green and glassy meet your own triumphant ones. shes looking down at you like youve ruined her for anyone else, like if you kept licking her like your life depended on it she'd give you anything. while you could only focus on her beauty, her dark blonde locks clinging to her sweaty skin, muscles rippling as she felt her orgasm approaching. "let go, baby" with one more hard suck to her clit, abby screams. she cums so hard its almost funny, her thighs clench around your head and shes babbling something about how good you are and how long shes wanted you. you keep licking at her until her orgasm is over. only when she finally relaxes fully do you come up for hair, soaked from the nose down. you reach for the phone, turning off the livestream before crawling up to her on the bed. "i think your fans liked it" you tease, abby whines and covers her face. you chuckle and kiss her cheek. "we can talk about it in the morning, abs" was the last thing you said before leaving the room. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ i tried to make it longer coz my last one was pretty short and honestly i wrote this for myself i js thought the idea was hot and yes i did infact nut to this im not afraid to admit it :P

#abbyanderson #wlw #fanfic #tlou #lesbian #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson smut

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loserlvrss · 1 day ago

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O͏F͏F͏ M͏Y͏ F͏A͏C͏E͏ 𓂃 彼氏 ꒱ i'm out my head so into you.

엔하hee x 𝒻.reader ⋮ FIVESIXTYHUNㅤㅤ ◞◞ fluff 𝓮st. relationship ────ⓘ mentions of being drunk & alcohol 🌠

⌗ req?naur told u i had a lil something for you ( @yudaies )

“This is so warm,” Heeseung grumbled, stretching his limbs from the denim jacket confining them, trying his best to get it off while still remaining balanced. “Too hot.”

You looked at him as you rounded the corner, his eyes slit open slightly and an uncomfortable look across his face. It was a sight to take in, but you couldn’t stop staring through the dim lighting at the cute flush his neck and ears had. It also didn’t help that he was wearing a black undershirt, showing off his straining muscles and collarbones as he tried his hardest to free himself.

He’d gotten your door closed within the chaos, back now turned to you—you’re not even sure if he knew you’d made it down the hallway at him until your voice broke through his groans, “Take it off then, I'll help you.”

He turned quickly, clutching at the wall for support and his head from dizziness. A smile crept to your lips, twinging them as a chuckle crawled up your throat.

“Do not touch,” his hand went out, “Sorry, lady. I have a girlfriend. And she can bite.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Hee,” you replied, further approaching him, “What are you talking about?”

His open palm that faced you suddenly turned into a pointed finger, “Baby?” he questioned, “Baby! Did you see that lady? I told her I have a girlfriend, don’t worry.” His hand came to his chest, a smug smirk meeting your gaze.

Your eyebrows furrowed from concern, helping him slip his arm from the sleeve, “Heeseung, how much have you had to drink?” He just waved you off, dropping the jacket on the floor.

“Two,”

“Gallons? Babe, you thought I was someone random… in my own house.”

“Bottles—by myself! Are you proud of me? I’m not your lightweight boyfriend anymore, y/n!” You wrapped an arm around his waist as he stumbled, holding him steady so he could slip his shoes off, kicking them to be sort-of against your multiple pairs. “Babe, have you had Sake before? Because we had an expensive one like two weeks ago, and it was so good for being alcohol. It’s kinda like Soju… Oh! You like the peach Soju, the one with the pink cap! You also like pink! Remember I got you that My Melody plush from Japan? We should go to Japan, It was so—”

You laughed, interrupting his long-winded monologue.

Though his voice got softer when he was intoxicated, he by no means knew how to shut his mouth, especially not around you. He could talk your head off all night—whether you let him or not—even if he passed out halfway through.

“Beautiful.” he finished, “Like you.”

Now you were the one blushing slightly, “Thank you,”

“And the cherry blossoms were still blooming. You should’ve been there… I swear, everything reminded me of you.” He was smiling from ear-to-ear as he reminisced his time on the island, “That’s why I took so many pictures! You got them, right?”

“Of course I did,” His face turned to you, lips inches apart due to the angle. You swear you heard his breath hitch, “And every good morning, and good night, and did you see the fancams from the concert? And didn’t my outfit look hot? And I miss you, and—”

“I love you.” He confessed breathily, “I’m so in love with you.”

© loserlvrss 2025. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱. >.< tags: @kstrucknet @k-films @blossomnet @starlit-network @sweetvenomnet @bbangbies @jakeify @greentulip @saxytalks @mystarsohee @chwesun @seomisaho @oc3anfloor @atzlordz @gyuwrites @minkilicious @chenlezip @nctrawberries @luvs4haechan @nctfreak reblogs ─────feedback v appreciated !

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 3 days ago

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The frat party (baby daddy AU: College days prequels)

Baby daddy Masterlist

Not proofread. Mentions of Alcohol, cursing

Word count: 880

—

It took you about three weeks after your first day at college to get invited to a frat party, you’d consider that pretty good since for the most part you keep to yourself. Your roommate got invited from some guy in her lit class, you couldn’t remember his name though, something with a P???

You promised to yourself you’d put yourself more out there socially in college, and so far it was working! Though that doesn’t mean that you almost turned around and b-lined it back home when you saw somebody already taking a nap on the front lawn of the frat house, if Mj wasn’t basically strong holding your arm with hers you definitely would. It took her five minutes outside and another three in the doorway to convince you to just stay for only a few hours. She didn’t want to come alone and she wanted an excuse to see this guy outside of class. You’d be doing her a favor and that’s what friends do, so you agreed.

You both hung around the kitchen for a bit, nursing some cheap ass beer that you were going to abandon on the counter and not return to it when you got the chance. After maybe half an hour Peter, or as you dubbed him “guy from English” finally appeared, he was really friendly, a bit of a chatterbox but you can see why Mj would find him cute. He wasn’t really your personal type though, you’d want someone with darker hair, maybe a bit taller, a bit more buff, maybe-

“Oh! Hey- Miguel!” You blinked out of your thoughts, when Peter waved someone over from behind you, only to be met with the guy who sat next to you during the first day of your statistics class. “Miguel this is Mj and her friend-I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.” You go to answer but Miguel beat you to the chase. You had to clench your bottle a bit tighter to keep yourself from smiling too enthusiastically. “You two know each other?” Peter asked with a head tilt.

“Um, we both have Mr,Peterson for Statistics. We sat next to each other on the first day.” You answered, before sneaking a glance at him, covering it by taking a sip of your drink. You hadn’t been able to interact much outside of sharing the occasional note through text though, since you both haven’t been able to sit next to each other since not for the lack of trying though.

“Ohhh yeah I think Miguel’s mentioned you before.” Peter blurted out, before receiving a light glare from the other male. “You guys share notes right?” He continued, making it seem like that all he mentioned.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s tired of me always bugging him. I swear Mr, Peterson talks like a million words per minute.” You laughed, your cheeks flesh from the cheap alcohol and the humidity of all the bodies in a two story house.

“No, don’t worry about it.” Miguel he assured you with a head shake. “I’m sure half the class has the same notes anyways.”

—

You were actually enjoying yourself, you had expected to stay maybe an hour tops. But it’s probably because you had someone else to talk to while Mj and Peter kept sneaking off to “grab another drink” for ten minutes before coming back empty handed.

As the night went on, the more crowded the first floor got. It was a bit much, so you four plus a few more people snuck into one of the rooms upstairs with a half empty bottle of Tito’s. It went from passing the bottle around in a circle to the bottle on the ground. You weren’t really sure how spin the bottle got started but at least it no one’s landed on you yet.

You were sitting between Peter and a random blond girl. You couldn’t help but feel the way your heart pounded as you moved onto your knees to reach the bottle, giving it a good spin. It felt like you were watching the bottle spin forever, if you were in a coming of age movie this is when the camera would go into slow motion and the sound of your heartbeat would overtake the muffled sound of Uncle ACE from Blood Orange playing from downstairs. You had barely noticed when it had stopped, pointing in the opposite direction of you. Eyes slowly moving up until they locked with dark brown.

Shit.

“No way you got Miguel!” Peter laughed, making you look back and shoot him a glare. Mj moved over to hit him lightly on the arm, as you slowly crawled over until you were in front of him.

“Sorry.” You whispered to Miguel, before slowly moving in. He almost wanted to reply with “it’s okay” but he didn’t have the chance to. Eyes fluttering shut as your soft lips met his.

Wow, they're a good kisser.

The kiss wasn’t too long, a few seconds at most, though you’re sure you might be overthinking it, you didn’t want it to last too long. So you pulled away, eyes still closed just long enough to not notice the way his lips followed in an attempt to keep the contact just a bit longer.

—

Heyyy… how y’all doing….

Taglist: @ladysimp @juneonhoth @Tatatida @auro-a @superstartrinz_20 @kimmis-stuff (join here)

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #baby daddy!miguel #college days prequels #miguel fanfic #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel ohara spiderman

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suireunie · 2 days ago

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DONT WANNA BE A BEBE [LHS]

Summary: You and heeseung had an argument and you thought he lied about some important things in your relationship. You were mad and made him jealous.

Don't wanna be a bebe, you know i'm sick of lyin' ~

Word count : 2.3k

warnings: little bit angst, fluffy, smutty, pet names (bitch, good girl, my girl), non!idol heeseung, unistudent!heeseung, heeseung is 23 and yn is 20, dom!heeseung × sub!yn, rough sex, unprotected sex!(please don't), heeseung is jealous and mad, possessive heeseung, spank kink!, let me know if there's more warnings!

Mention for: Aespa- Karina, TXT- Yeonjun, Enhypen - Jay

Minors don't read!

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"I told you I'm not lying!"

" Heeseung, literally you said you were going your friend's house but you weren't!" Your heart is broken and he didn't help it with his replies.

"I forgot okay, I don't have to tell you all my shit!- " Your heart is fell, he never talk to you like this, he never. Your tears started to go through your eyes.

"Okay... sorry" You went to your bedroom and started to crying. He didn't came back to you and you were alone in your room. Alone and sad. You just wanted truth but he didn't told you about his movements. You were sensitive about honesty and he knew this. Even though he did.

When you woke up, it was eight in the morning. Normally you never wake up at this hour, but you had a headache because you cried so much last night. You were starting to think if you were making things too big, a part of you wanted to listen to him, you wanted him to be there for you, to hug you, but the other part was telling you that you were right. Because you told him from the very beginning that you were sensitive about the obvious lie, you just gave him the truth and he didn't give it to you. He had been distancing himself from you lately, you couldn't even remember the last time he had touched you, which was pushing you towards that unwanted thought: being cheated on... But he wouldn't do it, would he? After all, you trust him and he loves you, right? That doubt inside you was eating you up. You wanted to get some fresh air and clear your head. You grabbed your jacket and bag and left the house, you started walking while listening to music on your headphones. This was your therapy, whenever you felt stuck, music would pick you up and make you feel better.

Heeseung felt guilty, he never meant to say that, he didn't mean to hurt you. He regretted his last sentence. That was why he hadn't come back to bed or come to her all night, he knew she would feel very shameless if he did. He had been busy with school lately, exams were overwhelming him and he needed a breather. He knew that if he told you, you would know him as much as you told him and support him, but he didn't. And he felt stupid for not doing it. You are the girlfriend that every man would want, lovely, supportive, beautiful... This morning, when he left the house, he pretended not to hear you leave. He knew you wanted to be alone for a while. And why would he stop you? He had no right to do so. He ruffled his hair and continued to be angry with himself.

2 days had passed and you hadn't spoken at all during those 2 days except for certain necessary situations. Today was your wife's party, she was one of your closest friends and even though you didn't want to, you had to go. While she was about to put on a light, normal dress, a devilish idea came to your mind. Why don't you show Heeseung what he's missing? You knew Heeseung would be going to this party with you and you decided to spice things up a bit. You took out your black dress from your closet, the dress Heeseung loved seeing on you the most. It ended at your thighs and had a nice cleavage. You got dressed and did a nice make-up, putting on your signature red lipstick. Heeseung was going to regret tonight. You were very nervous at the thought of it.

"Heeseung, im ready, we can go" Heeseung looked you up and down.He knew this dress and you looked so delicious.

"Ok, then " You left the house and got in the car. The tension between you was at a level that could be kept high throughout the drive. When you arrived at the party, you ran to Karina without waiting for him. The surroundings were very nice and well organized.

" Party is on fire! baby, you did great! " You hugged your friend tightly.

"Right? I tried really hard, not even sitting on my ass "You both laughed. Karina noticed the tension between you and Heeseung.

"What happened?"

"What?" Karina's eyes sparkled with mischief. " What happened between you two? He's fucking you with his eyes right now "

You explained the situation to him and he agreed with you. He had to respect your sensitivities. You told Karina your plan. And that bitch lived for chaos. "We're making this plan right now baby, let's have some drinks and fun!"

You laughed and let him drag you onto the dance floor. The smell of your drink and the smell of it make you feel beautiful. You shook your hips and danced to the rhythm. Heeseung’s eyes hadn’t left yours for even a second. You looked so hot in that dress and the way you were shaking those damn hips was turning him on. He squeezed his glass full of liquor, but Jay noticed his action.

"What's going on, bro?" He turned his head to Jay. "Yn, that's what's trying to make me mad." Icecejten butyj took a sip. "I messed up something and YN is trying to make me mad" Jay grins at him. "I guess it's working, and hey look around, they looking to YN from the group next to it " Heeseung He turned his head angrily and looked at the group. The anger inside him was boiling, he was jealous.

""He noticed you but it's not enough, we have to do something more, something to get his mind off it," Karina told you. You grinned at her, just then you heard a voice from behind you.

""Hey, YN isn't that right? This dress looks great on you." It was Yeonjun. He was one of the slutty, popular kids in school. He had tried to date you many times but you had rejected Yeonjun’s advances because you knew what the fuck he was. But now was your chance, you could use it for your little plan. You grinned at Yeonjun. “Yeah it’s me, Yn. And hey you don’t look bad either.” The two of you were talking and you made sure it was in a way that Heeseung could see. You could read the jealousy in his eyes and it gave you pleasure.

"Lets dance!" You started dancing with Yeonjun. His hands were roaming around your waist and you were giving him dirty looks. Heeseung was about to go crazy. He had to get you away from that son of a bitch. You turned your back to Yeonjun and lightly rubbed your hips. This move was the final straw for Heeseung. He quickly came to you and before you could even react he pulled you away from Yeonjun.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Your back hit the wall. Heeseung leaned his hand against the wall and leaned over you, anger and jealousy seeping from his eyes.

"just dancing, nothing-" Heeseung cut you off

"Dont give me that bullshit! Do you think I didn't see what you were doing with Yeonjun there? "

You crossed your arms and gave him a critical look. “Do you care? I don’t think so.” Heeseung leaned in closer to him. “I don’t care, do I? Don’t I know that little game you’re playing back there?” His free hand slowly moved up your thigh, you let out a small breath. And then he noticed it. He moved up a little higher and stopped just as he was about to touch your panties. "Are you excited little girl? What's that? Just now you were shaking those fucking hips so nicely there? "

He brought his face close to yours, his breath fanning over your lips, and he cupped your chest with his hand, lifting it up. His thumb brushed over your gloss-covered lips. "open your mouth" You opened your mouth and he put his finger in your mouth. You sucked it reflexively, rolling your tongue around it. "Good girl." He took his finger from your mouth and suddenly had you in one of the empty rooms. He closed the door behind you and locked it. Before you could react, his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t a slow kiss, not even a kiss. He was using his mouth for dominance over yours. He was sucking, biting, and chewing on your lips. He stuck his tongue into your mouth and connected it with yours, kissing you in a disgusting rhythm. Your breath was going crazy and your head was spinning from lack of air, but you still couldn't stop kissing him. You moved your hands to his hair and pulled gently. He moaned into the kiss and slid one hand down to your breasts. Heeseung always loved your breasts. They felt so soft and nice in his hands, filling his palms. You groaned and arched your back

"Heeseung please ~"

"Please what, use your words like a good girl"

"please touch me please please " You pushed yourself towards him. Heeseung frowned, his lips roaming all the way down to your pocket and down to your neck. He sucked and bit, leaving hickeys on your neck, his hand had entered your cleavage and was rubbing your nipples. he pinched you and you hissed, "youre mine, say it"

"I-im yours~" Your panties were soaked. The way he controlled you was magnificent and you had no choice but to obey him. He knew your entire body by heart, he knew your every move. He pulled you and pushed you onto the bed.

"Take off your clothes and stand on your hands and knees" He ordered, you immediately took off your dress and stood in doggy position. You were only wearing a pair of lace black panties. He came from behind you and opened your legs, letting the wetness on your panties in. "Bitch, so you wet that much, huh? I haven't even touched you yet but you're already leaking."

You whined against him, he moved his hand over your ass and spanked you all at once. You hissed in pain and pleasure. "You're mine, this ass, this pussy is mine, you belong to me. No one else can touch you, understand?" He whispered in your ear, his dirty words making you even wetter. One of his hands slid down your panties and started to rub you gently. The feeling was amazing and you couldn't help but moan.

""Please please I want your fingers inside me, please" You begged and he grinned, he loved seeing you like that. "Only good girls get what they want. You're not a good girl, you're a whore. "You pushed yourself more into his hand and whined, "Please, I'm a good girl, I promise, please."

He slid his hand inside your panties and tore them off abruptly, you shivered as the open air made contact with your pussy. He moved his hand over your pussy and started rubbing your clit.He spread her legs a little more, leaned over you, and started licking your pussy from top to bottom. His tongue was roaming your folds, driving you crazy. You couldn’t do anything but moan, his tongue moving expertly around you, touching exactly where you needed it. You heard the sound of his belt being removed behind you and turned your head towards him. “I’m gonna fuck you right here, the people here are gonna hear how good I fuck you, especially that yeonjun, he’s gonna go crazy to have this pussy. But this pussy is mine, only I can fuck it.”

His dirty words made you even wetter, you couldn't resist anymore, he moved the shaft of his cock between your pussy cheeks, he was leaking precum and he was so hard. He slowly pushed himself inside you. Even though he wanted to destroy you, he would never hurt you. He gave you time to get used to his size.

When you told him he could continue, he started ramming his cock into you at an animal speed. There was nothing in the room but the slaps of skin on skin, your moans and his purring.

"Heeseunnngg, ahhhg,-

You couldn’t even form a proper sentence, feeling like your brain had turned to mush. Heeseung placed his hand on your back and pushed you down harder into the bed, your cheek pressed against the pillow. The way he was slamming his hips into you was making you faint with pleasure. He was slamming into you at just the right angle.

"I'm- ah! I'm cominggg" You felt the cum building up inside you. Heeseung moved his hand to your clit and applied delicious pressure. His other hand squeezed one of your breasts and pinched your nipple. You came with a scream. The world went black for a few seconds but when you came back up you were completely exhausted. Heeseung always had a big dick and he knew how to use it.

"Are u okay my love? His voice was softer now, compared to his earlier grumpiness. He turned you over and pushed your hair that was stuck to your face aside. He kissed you on the forehead. "You did very well, my love." He took a napkin from the side and cleaned you up, laid you down on the bed and pulled you to his chest.

"I'm sorry for lying to you. I've been so stressed lately and wanted to escape from everything. I'm sorry baby " He caressed her hair and kissed her forehead in apology.

You looked at him, "You can tell me, you know I'm with you. Please don't lie to me."

"I know, I'm sorry. And...and that day I just drank and went to the beach. I swear I didn't do anything else. I know I lied to you about this, but please believe me. I would never cheat on you. You know I love you so much." His eyes were looking at you with a pleading look.

"I believe you but please don't lie to me again,"

"I promise I won't " He hugged you tightly.

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Hii!!! I'm suireun! I'm new here. I still don't know how to do some things, but I will learn! I am completely open to your comments, tell me and I can fix myself. I hope you liked it. My request box is open, you can request me a fic

Luv u all ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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hancfubuki · 2 days ago

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caleb has carefully built walls around his heart, however, the more time he spends with rafayel, the easier is for him to weave his way through them. for a moment, he says nothing, simply gazing at rafayel with an intensity that could also be a bit overwhelming, his purple eyes glimmering as a smile curls from the corner of his lips. "you have no idea how much that means to me." he murmurs, his hands still cupping the lemurian's face, not wanting to let go. "you say you'll protect me, and i believe you. but please, don't forget i'm not someone who will just stand by and the world hurt you. i'll also shield you from whaterver tries to take away that light in your eyes." in a more playful aura, he bops the tip of his nose with his fingertip. "if you believe i'm enough, i'lll make sure i'm worthy of that trust. so yes, i'll stay long enough, and together, we'll rewrite the ending we thought we were destined for." he feels the atmosphere between them lifting up a bit, no longer feeling tense nor regretting past decisions.

"oh?" he laughs amused, not even being able to hide it. "can you blame me? you were practically screaming for someone to hold you." he finds himself teasing again, comfortable enough to let this playful side of him. "you're right, though. i couldn't stay away even if i wanted to. perhaps you reminded me of something i'd lost, or your fire just called to me." his smiles softens as his fingers trace gentle patterns along the side of his face before leaning closer to press a kiss to his temple, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, listening to everything he's already planning to do. as he's pulled into a hug, he instinctively reaches to the back of his head, petting him softly as he listens to him. his breath catching slightly as his words paint vivid pictures of distant lands and possibilities, truly of an eternity shared. his arm tighten around him, pulling him closer as well, while fingers tangle in his hair as he leans closer. "i'll show you everything." he whispers, a chuckle leaving his lips as he described so wonderfully some places in earth that might actually not be as appealing as he might think, but the idea of exploring the world together, suddenly made the thought comforting.

"sadly, my life is not as wonderful as you might think. i was not born on a beautiful land nor did i grew up in a pretty place. i was born within walls of stone, hidden deep underground. it was cold, with gas lamps that barely provided any light in that oppressive darkness, full of rusted pipes that dripped water that produced an ominous echo. it also had lot of shelves full with jars of organs suspended in blue liquids, malformed embryos, and monstrosities that blurred the line between human and something else, vials filled with glowing substances, labeled with codes and symbols incomprehensible to anyone but them. i can't take you there, raf. they would do indescribable things to you. it would be like leading you to a life of restraint and pain. i can take you anywhere you want, but that place is off limits." his lips press in a thin line, visible uncomfortable at the memories. and it's when realizes that rafayel already shared some part of his life with him, and he hasn't provide any details of his origin or childhood. "i don't know where i was born, but i grew up in a lab. never met my real parents either, i never had a family. the woman who took me in worked for them, she... also experimented on me. and i'm unsure about her real intentions, why she took me in. can't tell if it was pity or a need to have me close. i don't have a home either, my ship was my home, the sea itself. and there are countless of places on land that bring me pain, i can certainly take you there, were i have lost vital members of my crew. but not there. i know we are strong enough to take them down, but what if..." his brows furrow, getting angry just at the idea of them trapping rafayel and keeping him in a cage. "what if it goes wrong? it's too dangerous."

caleb watches him with a faint smile, looking how he suddenly picks up the pearl. the sudden worries vanish, eyes reflecting amusement once again laced with affection. he kneels slowly to join rafayel, his hand brushing against the other's as he gently takes the pearl to inspect it, holding it up between his fingers. "well, i can appreciate their beauty. i heard they are worth a lot of gold, used in jewelry. but if you asked me, their real worth lies in the story of how they’re made. they’re a reminder that even pain and pressure can make something worth treasuring." he rolls the pearl in his palm before holding it back out, letting it catch the faint glow of light between them. "maybe i should ask what they mean to you first, because i'd like anything, as long as it reminds me of you."

Rafayel hears the rustle of moss before he feels his eyes on the top of his head, and he hears the reassurance that only twists his emotions further into disarray. Rather than words coming from his mouth, it's the gentle touch that has him peek through his fingers, lower his hands, and show him shining eyes brimmed with tears, wavering gaze meeting his fear, guarded, expecting rejection, even when he continues to reassure. His thumb is warm and gentle as he clears his eyes of tears, anxiety bubbling under his skin, breath caught in his throat as he warily assesses the other with an unknown clarity. None of his actions are rushed, instead he feels like the gentle breeze against his skin, a warmth clinging to his skin and reassuring him of a coming day, eyelids lowered but staring down at the movements of his, his hand cupped his cheek and Rafayel slowly, cautiously, leans the weight of his head against it as his lips come close and press more reassurance against him.

I love you.

He says so gently as they part, and Rafayel had watched through hooded eyes the way his brows creased, the way his lips moved, his tall nose, and the way his lashes fluttered with every way their lips moulded together. Yet, rather than words he struggled to believe, he relied on the firm touches keeping him grounded, pulling him in towards the man with fingers in his hair, the warm breath brushing him filled with desire and affection, every fibre of his being thrumming when he isn't pushed but dragged further towards his self like gravity.

When the thought had first arisen, it was on a whim.

Empathy or pity, he didn't want to watch another soul endure more pain than necessary. After all, he believed everyone deserved to find peace and a reason to live. He didn't believe death was ultimately evil, but he also didn't think anyone should have to face death with loneliness or despair. Yet now, as he grew attached, started to care, he feels his emotions overflow. I found hope to live. That's all he wanted to hear, and he feels himself nod to his confession, humming softly in recognition as he takes a step forward, burying his face into the hands cupping his cheek, rubbing his nose against his palm, and looking up at him with adoration welling from deep in his chest. "I won't let you feel that pain anymore." As he finds his voice, he raises his own hands to cup over the ones on his face, keeping them still and letting him play with his cheeks if he so desires, enjoying the touch as it soothes the pain. For now, his worries are eased, only determination and love left in his touch. "From now on, I will break you free from the cycle of suffering if you ever fall back. I will protect you from anyone who dares to bring you harm. If you believe that I am enough," he sighs, squeezing his hand tight. "-You can stay with me for as long as you'd like."

Moving too fast. Rafayel lets out a wet chuckle as he lowers his gaze, a smile finally stretching his lips. "I remember someone's very first instinct was to drag me into their arms." Indeed, this was faster than he could have ever imagined himself falling. Yet it hadn't felt rushed when he had dragged Caleb under the raging ocean that fateful night, there had been indifference when he had first awoken, but everything had fit into place in a natural order from the moment he realized their souls resonated a familiarly, when Caleb fearlessly pulled him into his arms, facing his powers head on without fear but acceptance. He had seen the boy trapped behind responsibilities and a power he had been forced to control, scared of a mistake he once made, but also accepting the spoiled and playful boy, the part of him that wanted to experiment with love. Rafayel isn't sure if he could call it love at first sight, not when he still doesn't quite understand the depth of his new feelings. But he is sure to nod when Caleb asks him to stay, tilting his head up to press his lips to his in return.

"An eternity is a long time."

The Lemurian opens his eyes slowly, hands now reaching up so he can cup the other's face, blue and pink eyes now clear as he tilts his chin and straightens his back to reach his height, noses brushing. "But that means we'll have plenty of time to travel the world, like you said." The weight on his shoulders feels lighter, his hands slipping into Caleb's hair, then down so his elbows can rest on his shoulders, pulling him in and hugging him close. He let his cheek rest on the span of his shoulder, squished and comfortable to share warmth in the gentle light and purple glow of weeds. "I read of land far from the coast closest to Whalefall City. Places where they paint with ground vermilion and sulphur. Some cities that smell like sweet and spicy spices with fragrant oil, flowers that bloom once every hundred years, and logs of a land where they play music from instruments vastly different from the ones I know of." He lifts his head, playing with the long ends of his hair as his eyes glow warmly. This was his answer; he would give an eternity and more. "I want to see the world you call home. Where you were born, where you grew up, and the places and people you liked most. But not just the places that make you nostalgic and happy, but also those that have melancholy and pain. All of it."

A sigh escapes his lips, tears dried and comforted by the sudden realization that he wasn't alone in his sudden affection. Like he said, they could slowly learn what they didn't yet know. But as he glances down at the pearls littered on the floor, not too many but enough to be visible at first glance, his ears turn red as heat reaches his face, pulling away only to crouch down and pick one up. Then, he holds it up to stare before looking at Caleb with a questioning tilt of his head, sheepish but curious. "Do you like pearls?"

Humans did, but he doesn't know much about Caleb.

#inardescere #( inardescere; rafayel. )#( muse; caleb. )#( verse; myth. )#angst???#ANGST

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pankowcrumbs · 3 days ago

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Click X Austin Butler (Requested)

MasterList

The desert sun had no mercy.

It beat down in steady waves, the horizon rippling like a mirage, and every step I took on the sandy ground kicked up a faint cloud of dust. The heat clung to my skin, and even though I’d lathered on sunscreen and was wearing my trusty cargo trousers and sleeveless button-up, I could still feel the burn beginning.

But I didn’t mind. Not today. Not for this job.

Because standing twenty feet in front of me, the wind tousling his sun-bleached hair just so, was Austin Butler. Wearing double denim—a faded jacket over his jeans and a crisp white t-shirt, tucked in the front, effortless. He had on a Breitling watch that shimmered subtly in the light every time he adjusted his stance. He looked like a vintage Marlboro ad had come to life, all blue eyes and jawline, like he’d strolled right out of the '70s and into my viewfinder.

And unfortunately, I was meant to focus on said viewfinder.

“You good, love?” he called out, one brow quirked, his drawl managing to sound both casual and dangerously teasing. “You’ve been squinting at me for a solid minute.”

I quickly lowered my camera, heat crawling up my neck not just from the sun.

“Just framing the shot,” I lied smoothly, hoping my accent would distract from the obvious. “Stay like that.”

He didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head and smirked.

“Like this?” he asked, raising one arm to adjust his jacket, muscles flexing beneath the denim. The pose should’ve looked ridiculous too aware, too staged but somehow he managed to make it look effortless. “Or should I pout more?”

“Please don’t,” I muttered, aiming again.

“You sure? I’ve been told I’ve got a killer pout.”

“I’m trying to work, Austin.”

“Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Brilliant.

I exhaled through my nose, pressed the shutter. The camera clicked. The sound was comforting, grounding. This was my craft, my world. I’d done shoots with rockstars who’d smashed guitars mid-session, models who’d cried over their eyeliner, and actors who insisted their ‘good side’ was the only side. I could handle one unnervingly attractive man in denim.

Except that this unnervingly attractive man was now walking closer.

“We done with the long shots?” he asked, coming within a few feet. His eyes were hidden behind dark lenses, but his smile was visible and maddening. “You wanna do the closer stuff now?”

“You’re in charge of posing. I’m just here to capture it.”

“I dunno, you seem like you’re in charge of a lot more than that,” he said, reaching up to tug off his sunglasses. “Like whether I get to see that little smile you’ve been hiding.”

My mouth went dry.

This wasn’t fair. There should be a rule against this. Being flirted with by someone who looked like that while I was trying to do my job. He was all Californian charm and movie-star magnetism, and I was about three seconds from misfiring my shot because I couldn’t stop staring at the curve of his lips.

I cleared my throat. “Alright, Austin. Over by the boulder. Facing the sun. Watch your shadow.”

He gave me a look half amused, half obedient and sauntered over. Yes, sauntered, like a man who knew exactly what he was doing to me. I wanted to scream into the nearest cactus.

I adjusted my settings, letting the sun wash his profile in gold. His hair caught the light perfectly, his skin glowing with that too-good-to-be-real kind of tone that only ever seemed to happen to people with stylists and personal chefs.

“Alright, chin down slightly. Look toward the camera no, not at it. Just off to the side. There. Hold.”

I clicked.

He moved again. Subtle shifts, like he knew every angle, every inch of what made the lens love him. But he didn’t just pose he played. He kept catching my eye in between frames, flashing a grin, biting his lip slightly, like he was daring me to react.

And the worst part?

It was working.

My palms were sweaty. I had to wipe them on my trousers between shots like a nervous intern. I was acting like I hadn’t been in this industry for eight years. Like I hadn’t shot celebrities before.

But none of them had looked at me like this.

Between takes, he grabbed a water bottle and tipped it back, head thrown, neck exposed. His shirt clung to him now, just slightly, and when he saw me watching, he winked.

“Catching the behind-the-scenes?” he teased.

“I’m trying not to.”

He chuckled, tossing the bottle aside. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

I didn’t respond. Mainly because my brain had short-circuited. I turned away to adjust my backup lens, trying to mentally recite my grocery list. Eggs. Bread. milk. NOT AUSTIN BUTLER’S COLLARBONE.

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping closer again. “You alright?”

I nodded, tightening the lens with a click. “Yep. Just hot.”

“Tell me about it,” he replied, wiping his brow. “Sun’s a killer.”

I looked up. He was watching me again, not in a cocky way, but... curious. Intense. Like he wasn’t just looking, he was seeing me.

It was a dangerous look.

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes of good light left,” I said quickly, stepping around him. “Let’s make it count.”

He followed me back to the shoot area, no longer cracking jokes, but his presence was still loud like a storm brewing just outside the frame.

I snapped more shots closer now, the angles sharper. I directed him silently, using my hands, my eyes, and he responded like he was reading my mind. The chemistry...dammit, the chemistry was undeniable.

“You’re really good at this,” he said, softer this time, during a break. “I’ve done a lotta shoots. Never felt this easy before.”

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“You always this quiet?”

“Only when I’m trying not to be inappropriate,” I said before I could stop myself.

His grin was slow, devilish. “Oh? What were you thinking?”

I groaned. “You’re awful.”

“I’m really not.”

“You’re wearing double denim. There’s no recovering from that.”

“You’re the one who approved the look, babe.”

I blinked. “I didn’t call you babe.”

“No, I did,” he said, stepping in close again, his breath warm. “And you didn’t tell me to stop.”

I swallowed. Hard. “Do you flirt like this with all your photographers?”

“Only the ones I want to take to dinner.”

I looked up at him, heart thudding.

“After this,” he added. “Once you’re done being professional.”

I should’ve laughed. Brushed it off. Made a joke.

But I didn’t.

I lifted my camera one last time.

“Alright,” I whispered. “Give me one more. Make it count.”

He looked at me like he knew exactly what that meant. His expression changed smoulder, longing, a whisper of something deeper. He turned his head slightly, let the light catch his jaw.

I clicked.

The shutter echoed in the silence between us.

And then I lowered the camera. “That’s a wrap.”

He smiled.

“I still want that dinner.”

I bit my lip, feeling like the sun had set inside my chest.

“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”

The restaurant was tucked away on a side street in downtown LA moody lighting, exposed brick walls, the kind of place that was somehow both trendy and timeless.

God help me, the man looked like a dream.

Cream linen shirt, sleeves rolled, necklace peeking from underneath. His hair was pushed back like he’d run his fingers through it a dozen times, and his grin when he looked at me made my stomach dip.

“You clean up alright,” I said, pretending to sound casual.

“You look incredible,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me, eyes sweeping over me shamelessly. “Red lips. Kinda unfair.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He leaned forward slightly. “Now I won’t be able to focus on anything else all night.”

I took a sip of wine and hoped he couldn’t see the heat rising in my cheeks.

Dinner was... a flirtation in motion. He teased, I dodged. He complimented, I redirected. But it was fun effortless. The conversation ranged from music and photography to desert sunsets and what kind of cereal was superior. He swore by Lucky Charms. I told him he had the palate of a child. He laughed and said, “You like it.”

And maybe I did.

By dessert, the tension between us was humming palpable. But nothing happened. He walked me to my car, hand brushing against mine, and when we stopped, he looked like he might kiss me. He didn’t.

Just smiled, warm and soft. “Let’s do this again.”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “Let’s.”

But neither of us exchanged numbers.

Stupid.

The campaign dropped two weeks later.

I’d known the shots were good I’d gone over them a dozen times, picked each one meticulously, edited with precision but I hadn’t expected the reaction.

The images went viral.

There he was, denim-clad and windswept, smouldering under the desert sun. Breitling had posted them at midnight. By sunrise, every fashion blog, Twitter thread, and fan page had picked them up. “Austin Butler Looks Like a Cowboy Who Could Break Your Heart.” “That Watch? Who Cares. LOOK AT HIM.” “Give that Photographer a Medal.”

I laughed when I read that one.

My inbox flooded. Clients. Agencies. A few very enthusiastic watch lovers. But one message stood out:

Private assignment. NDA required. One-day shoot. Discreet location. Interested?

I signed the NDA without hesitation.

It was a studio out in Topanga Canyon secluded, rustic-chic, all wood and steel with floor-to-ceiling windows. The assistant who met me wouldn’t say much, just gestured toward the back room where the subject was “waiting.”

I walked in.

Austin was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, lips tugging into a smirk.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I blurted.

“I missed you,” he said with zero shame. “And I forgot to get your number. Rookie move.”

I just stared.

“This was the only way I could think of seeing you again without looking too desperate,” he added, pushing off the wall and strolling toward me.

I raised a brow. “You booked a whole secret shoot just to see me again?”

He stopped in front of me, close enough to smell his cologne clean, woody, slightly spicy. “Well. The way I see it... you already know how good I look in front of your camera. Figured I’d remind you how much fun we had.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You like it.”

Unfortunately, I really did.

I sighed dramatically, turning away to unpack my gear. “What are we shooting today then? More watches? Or just you being ridiculously photogenic in various states of undress?”

He laughed. “They left the concept pretty open-ended.”

“Dangerous.”

He stepped behind me, voice low. “So take advantage of it.”

I turned slowly, camera still in hand. He was watching me, expression unreadable for a second then soft. “Seriously though. I wanted to see you again. And I didn’t want it to be some rushed thing between meetings or on a red carpet.”

“So you hired me.”

“I like working with you,” he said. “And I like watching you work. You’re in control. Confident. And when you laugh behind the lens... I dunno. It does something to me.”

I stared up at him, heart skipping a beat.

“Are you flirting with me again?”

He nodded. “Constantly. Always. Forever.”

I bit my lip, caught somewhere between amused and breathless.

“Let’s shoot,” I murmured, stepping back, raising my camera. “Then we’ll see where the night takes us.”

The shoot started professional.

For ten whole minutes.

He posed near a leather armchair, bathed in warm studio light, wearing a loose grey jumper and tailored trousers. The set was minimalist, industrial, the light catching the sharp angles of his face just right. I directed him like normal, but there was an edge to everything electric, buzzing beneath the surface.

And then it shifted.

He sat, legs splayed, fingers running through his hair, and I caught the shot mid-motion. He looked straight into the lens. Not at the camera at me.

I lowered the camera slowly.

“Come here,” he said.

It wasn’t a request.

I stepped closer. He reached out, fingertips brushing my wrist, trailing up to the strap of my camera, gently tugging it from my hands and setting it aside.

I swallowed. “Austin”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night.”

“Neither have I.”

He stood, inching forward, until my back hit the wall. His hand cupped my jaw, thumb tracing my cheekbone. “Should’ve kissed you.”

“You can now.”

And he did.

It was soft at first...tentative. Like he was checking if I’d pull away.

I didn’t.

It deepened quickly, hands finding hips, bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces. My fingers tangled in his hair, his lips never leaving mine for long. There was nothing performative now, no posing, no audience just heat and urgency and something that felt dangerously close to... real.

He kissed me like he meant it. Like he’d been waiting. Like he wasn’t going to let me slip through his fingers again.

When we broke apart, breathless, his forehead rested against mine.

“This might’ve been the best idea I’ve ever had,” he whispered.

I smiled, dazed and dizzy. “Book me again then.”

He laughed, full and bright.

“Oh, I will,” he said. “But next time? It won’t be just business.”

#fanfiction #reader #x reader #one shot #requested #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fandom #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austinbutler

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apples-are-yummy · 3 days ago

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Firefly

Smut below! MINORS DNI. Reader is afab in this, let me know if you would like an amab version!

warning yall im really bad at writing actual sex so bare with me.

The wind wasn't right.

The clouds were too dark.

Charlie was stressed. Way too stressed.

A doe was injured. The doe had been prancing with her young fawn near the rocks when she had stepped on a loose stone, losing her balance and falling to the ground. She twisted one of her ankles. Nothing more than a sprain, no bone was broken at all. She was healing perfectly fine, a woven bandage and splint that Charlie had made was wrapped around her lower leg, and a salve he had made to reduce swelling was applied to the area.

The doe was on rest by doctor’s (Charlie’s) orders. She was to rest in her thicket most of the day to make sure her leg healed well. Her fawn was a little sad that he couldn't play with his mother for a while, however she assured him that the day Charlie cleared her from rest, she would take him to the creek to play.

The doe would be fine. Her fawn would be fine. But Charlie couldn't shake the weight on his shoulders. He knew she would be fine, but he worried. He always worries, it's in his nature.

When you felt the wind change and saw the forest shake, you knew something was off. You grabbed your things and took the small stroll into the forest, and to Charlie’s treehouse. You wanted to check on him. You learned to pick up on the signs of the forest (aka the signs of Charlie). When the wind became heavy and bitter, you knew that Charlie was being weighed on.

You made it to his house, climbing the twisting staircase to his house, which was embedded into the large tree, approaching the intricately carved door, the wind becoming heavier and colder the closer you got to him. You knock at the door. No answer. You knock again. Faint footsteps are heard, getting closer to the door. Slowly, he opened the door a crack, his face only half visible. Though you could only see part of his face, you saw how much he was carrying. His twinkling eyes were now dull, his brows furrowed, his blushed lips were pursed, and the flowers on his antlers were beginning to droop.

“(Y/n)?” He asked, his voice soft, vastly different to his normally bright tone. He opened the door fully now. His hair normally had the spirit of dandelions present in his hair, almost making his locks defy gravity, but now he almost looked wilted.

“Oh my sweet boy…” you stepped closer to him, putting a hand to his cheek, his freckles beginning to sparkle just the slightest bit at your touch. He leaned into your palm, shutting his eyes gently. “What happened, firefly? Is the doe alright?” Charlie had told you about the doe getting injured, you had actually come to help and be an assistant to Charlie as he tended to the doe, but he had told you she would heal well. He nodded into your hand, gently shifting his gaze to look at you.

“She’s–she’s gonna be fine, it’s just… I feel… I don’t know…” He gulped. “I’m just worried about her.” You told him.

“I know.” you paused “But I also know that she will heal well. There was no broken skin so there's no chance of an infection. No bones were fractured, so we don't have to worry about a fracture healing wrong. She just has a sprained ligament. All she needs is rest. No need to worry about her, she’s gonna heal great.” You smile seeing the flowers on his antlers and his start perk up again, “Besides… She has a really good doctor taking care of her. He’s a real cutie.” Your smile widens. The wind lightened and the forest hummed as Charlie laughed gently at you, his tail gently swaying. There's my firefly. The gentle brush of foliage covering the floor started to glow again around where he stood. His spark had grown back to normal now, maybe even a little better now that you were here.

You hugged him close, feeling his warmth and breathing him in. Charlie held you tight, you could feel his heartbeat in the wind, a light but quick flutter in the breeze.

“I love you.” he whispered into your neck.

“I love you firefly” you whispered back. You saw his tail sway a little quicker at that pet name. The wind felt warm and you could feel the forest sigh. As you two embraced, you started to feel something big poke you were Charlie's waist was. You pulled away, about to ask if he found another cool rock that he had put in his pocket, but before you could say anything, you saw his face.

To say he was flushed was an understatement. Charlie was bright red. The ground began to glow with a pulse. As he covered his mouth, furrowed his brow and averted his eyes.

Oh…

“I’m sorry– I’m… you… uhm…” He trailed off, his breathing getting quicker and slightly more rugged.

“Why are you sorry? It’s cute.” you took his face in your hands again, one of his hands coming to rest over yours. He huffed out a breath of relief, his eyes trained on yours.

“(Y/n)... we’ve never– I’ve never done that or anything like it before…” He uttered.

“I’d be happy to teach you.” you purred. “Only if you tell me you want it.” you stepped closer to him, removing your hands from his face to place one on his chest.

“I want you.” He huffed out. You smiled as you stepped into his house, shutting the door behind you. He brought you to his bed, which was just a soft fiber woven mattress and pillows with knit blankets. It was surprisingly comfy, the pure cotton yarn in the blankets felt like clouds on your skin, and the mattress was plush and soft.

He stood before you in his bedroom, unsure of what to do, his cock now straining in his loose trousers.

“I don’t know what to do… what do we do next?” he asked, gulping. You stepped closer to him.

“Well, that depends. What do you want to learn first, Charlie?” you whispered, your heart beating fast for him. You felt sparks alight through your body, starting from your warm core.

“I want… I wanna make you feel good.” He breathed out, one of his hands cupping your face. Your face flushed dark, a little surprised at his answer but not upset by it. Definitely not upset with it.

“Well first, we can get on the bed,” You led him to his bed, you sitting by the head of the bed, legs slightly open. He sat on his knees in front of you. “Now come here,” you patted the bed where your legs were open, he crawled to you. “You can start to touch me, just do what feels right. I'll guide you.” You took his hands in yours and brought them to your waist, sliding them under your shirt. You gasped gently when he touched you, even though you were the one guiding him. His eyes were trained at your face, watching to see your reaction. You let go of his hands and let him guide himself. His hands slid up your back, making you squirm for him.

His hands dropped to the hem of your top tugging gently.

“Can I…?” he asked, watching you nod in return. Slowly he lifted your shirt up, you lifted your arms to help him. Charlie tossed the shirt out of the way and immediately went to take your undergarment off too. He just stared at your chest in awe, his eyes wide. You giggled softly at his reaction.

“You’re so beautiful.” he awed you, bringing his face to yours and kissing you. It wasn't the normal gentle kisses you had shared in the past, this was charged and heated and you both loved it. You pulled away just for a second to speak.

“You can touch them, baby.” you gave him permission and immediately latched his lips back to yours and brought his hands to your breasts, you moaning into his mouth and putting a hand through his hair.

“Wanna go further, Charlie?” You barely pulled away, your lips almost touching. He nodded eagerly, wanting to make you feel oh so good. You nodded back at him, shifting your body to take your bottoms and your underwear off. You laid back to some of his pillows and took his hand in yours. “Now… take your hand and bring it here…” you brought his hand to your folds, letting his hand go. You sighed at the feeling of his hands, finally touching you exactly where you wanted.

“N-now start moving your fingers a little and– Oh!” you moaned. He was a fast learner, finding your clit immediately and massaging it.

“Oh– please keep going, right there Charlie– Yes!” you threw your head back. Charlie used his other hand to take yours, lacing your fingers together tightly. He was in awe of you. You were stunning. Every part of you is a masterpiece. He kept rubbing small circles on your small bud, feeling you twitch made his own cock throb, his erection almost painful at this point.

“Now take your fingers–oh–and bring them down a little, then start pushing inside me, that’s how you're supposed to prep me–oh fuck!” you were cut off by a curse as charlie slowly pushed his middle and ring finger inside you, causing you to arch your back and moan.

“So warm… You're so tight too… (Y/n) is this okay?” he asked you, a small quiver in his voice. All you could do was nod. Charlie swallowed thickly, starting to move his digits in and out of you, making your mouth fall open as you moaned for him.

“Doing s-so good Charlie. Oh god you're a natural.” he started to quicken his pace slightly at your words, causing your reactions to grow.

“W-wait stop.” you huffed. He stopped immediately, looking at your flushed face. “I want your cock, Charlie.” his eyes widened and you saw his cock twitch in his trousers. He nodded and started to undress, you still panting on the low bed before you moved to the middle.

“Now I want you to sit where I was, in the same pose too.” you requested. Once Charlie was undressed, you saw his cock and your jaw dropped. He was huge, bigger than anything you had seen before. Maybe he was just blessed, or maybe all fae are like that, either way, you didn't care.

Charlie followed your orders, placing himself where you were sitting. When he was situated, you shuffled to him, straddling his hips, your chest touching his, and your lips mere inches apart. The lotus pose… fitting. You stood on your knees and reached below you to Charlie’s cock, guiding him to your entrance. Charlie’s mouth opened in a silent moan feeling your hand on his cock, his tail swishing at your touch. His arms were behind him supporting himself.

Slowly, you sank down on him, a gasp leaving both of you as your hips met. You sat still for a moment, just breathing each other in as you adjusted to his length. You started to move on him, your hips rising and falling. Charlie looked and sounded like an angel, throwing his head back and moaning loud. Your huffs echo with his moans and whines. Charlie’s hands gripped the fiber below him, the material glowing and pulsing with the rhythm of your movements.

You continued your movements as you heard the forest sigh and groan with Charlie. His moans ripped through his body and he shook for you. You put your hands on his shoulders for support, you gripped them gently out of your own pleasure, Charlie’s cock reaching all the best spots inside you, the feeling making Charlie’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

You felt your pleasure build and build and tie itself into a knot inside of you, your walls clenching around charlie, moaning in ecstasy.

“Oh– oh fuck I think I’m gonna…!” Charlie yelped out, his eyes screwed shut.

“Cum for me Charlie.” you whispered to him, stealing a kiss before he started to whimper and moan. The wind started to twirl again and the glow from his hands was even brighter. His tail whipped and his freckles were sparkling bright. You threw your head back, your orgasm beginning to crash over you, surging through your body. Charlie’s hips thrusted up into you as he panted, shooting his seed (ha ha) into you as you came around him.

Both of you wrapped your arms around each other, breathing heavy. The wind and the forest began to calm as did you and Charlie. He raised his head to look at your fucked-out face, you look up at him too. A smile spreads on both of your faces, laughter of pure joy coming from both of your lips.

You both stayed in the same position for a while. Sure, you would need to clean up eventually but for now, it was just you and Charlie

#charlie slimesicle x reader #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle smut #slimefucker #fae slime

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flowercrownsandherondales · 1 day ago

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Against the Odds Pt. 18

This one was actually tough. Take some time. Love y’alll sm. Things are gonna get better, I swear. I’m thinking of starting another series (not that this one is stopping soon, we still got the trilogy to get though.) But i promise that the new one won’t be as trauma inducing if anyone’s interested in that. As always, let me know your thoughts!

XVIII: ‘Til The Sun Turns Into Ashes

Every morning for us was the same sweet rhythm.

I got up, made the both of us coffee, spilled a splash of liquor into Haymitch’s cup, made flapjacks and sat at the table. Haymitch would slowly make his way towards me, beckoned with the smell of sweet syrup, and take a seat, never without planting a kiss on my temple.

We’d been married for a year now.

And I loved him more everyday of my life.

I looked to the walls while I sipped my coffee, listening to the quiet clinks of his fork against porcelain. I’d hung up the photo of us from our Capitol wedding, me in a tasteful white silk dress, him in an itchy suit he’d complained about ceaselessly. A fountain of flowers in my hand, a smile that didn’t quite reach either of our eyes, his hand tight around my midsection. I frowned as I looked, my head coming to rest on my hand. Haymitch’s eyes followed my line of sight, eyes furrowed as he tried to understand why my mood shifted.

“Wish we had pictures from the real one.” He said over a mouthful of pancakes. I nodded absentmindedly. His hand crept across the table, resting over the one that wasn’t occupied, keeping my head up. His thumb rubbed against my knuckles, soothing me as he continued to eat.

Our life was full of these quiet touches, silent comforts to each other, completely just for us.

“When do you think he’s gonna come for us?” I asked under my breath, barely audible. I wasn’t sure he heard it at first, until I looked at him and saw his spine was stiff.

“Not sure. He’s pretty preoccupied with Finnick right now.” He muttered, looking away from me. Finnick Odair had won this year. Haymitch and I were taken off guard by it, the sheer fact that he let District 4 win back to back, especially after Carp. The boy had gotten worse and worse after our wedding, moving on from whispering to Capitol citizens who bought him for the night, to making heavier statements at parties around large groups of people. Snow was itching for a chance to cancel him out.

The final straw had been before Finnick’s games. Snow had probably done everything he could to prevent Carp from stepping onstage, but the people begged for a glimpse of him. He’d gotten more attractive over the years, muscles filling out his body, hair and skin shimmering golden under the lights. Cesar asked him how he thought his tributes would do.

“Finnick’s a fine boy, maybe District 4’s finest. I’m confident about it, but Cesar, I do feel bad for him.”

Cesar had just stared at him, urging him to go on with a lump in his throat. Carp leaned in, looking directly into the camera.

“What a poor boy, to go to the slaughterhouse so young. Part of me hopes he dies in there, if only because I know what comes next for him. He’s the perfect specimen for you all, isn’t he? Everyone will have such a field day with him. Tell me President Snow, how much will you start him out at? Surely, he’ll be priced higher than me due to his winning status, or is it his age? I know you like them young.”

The camera feed was cut after that. Days later they would completely alter it, showing us runs where he wasn’t included in the interviews at all. When Finnick was crowned with golden laurels, only Mags stood beside him. And with that lost interview, Carp Delmar was no more. District 4 had another golden boy, younger, more to lose if he misbehaved, and he took up the mantle with no backlash. It seemed the Capitol citizens were more than pleased to spend the night with a young boy who didn’t speak, only listened.

Haymitch and I had held each other close for months after that. We assumed we’d get some kind of surprise visit, even a letter, instructions for a child.

Instead, nothing.

Surprising myself, Haymitch found me shedding a few tears for the boy who murdered my son in the arena. I’d forgiven him years ago, knowing there was no choice to slit Wiley’s throat in that cave. Carp had paid for it time and time again, and I made sure to give him small smiles when we did run paths in the Capitol. The boy who fought tooth and nail by himself to try and show the truth, now buried in an unmarked grave, just as forgotten and lost as District 12’s first victor.

After Wiley’s games I attempted to emotionally detach as I had before my son was reaped. It was easier back then, when I didn’t have someone so attached to them. Haymitch drank more in the month leading up, and the month after. He’d lock himself in our room for a while, spacing himself from me most of the day, only coming out when dinner was ready and he was so hammered he could barely walk a straight line. I’d grab his arm, leading him to the table and holding a fork up to his lips with every bite, allowing him to have the space to feel it, and the closeness to know that I was there.

On quiet nights in the dark, when the only thing that filled the space was our breathing, he’d grip my hand tight under the covers, pulling me into him, and whisper the tribute's names, giving me only 1 fact about each of them he had observed.

Like me, he tried not to care. And like me, his heart couldn’t bring him to do it.

I cleared his plate and did the dishes, feeling his arms wrap around me as I focused on the soap and brillo pad.

“You goin’ to see the kids today?” his voice was hot in my ear, still heavy with sleep. I grinned a little at the thought of the girls. Katniss had just turned 11, Prim 7. Burdock spent every waking moment in a state of fear for his oldest, terrified that she would end up like my boy. I tried to reassure him, but it was difficult given my situation.

He spent more time with her, teaching her how to hunt, identify plants and edible flora. Anything he could possibly control, he did. Astrid focused on her work to calm her nerves, Prim already starting to follow her to the apothecary after school and learning all she could. Both girls being prepared in different ways.

Katniss was starting to feel her father’s worry, escaping to my old house when she could talk with me while I sewed up Haymitch’s old clothes. My shack still stood, unused but kept clean for the Everdeen girls to use as they wanted. Sometimes we made flower crowns together, other times we cooked and I sent her home with a few meals for her family. Most of the time we just listened to records while she told me about her worries, asking me questions about what the reaping was like. She’d brought up Wiley and Wyatt a few times, and instead of stiffening and refusing her, I’d opened up and shared stories of my boys.

Something I constantly regretted not doing for Wiley.

“I should get going now, she’s usually hungry after school.” I said to Haymitch, picking some cured meat and flour from the pantry. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to Victor's rations, better food than I’d ever seen being delivered regularly. I always put some away to make the Everdeen’s meals or after school snacks, trying to take some of the stress off Burdock and Astrid.

Haymitch chuckled, spinning me around and cupping my cheek, pressing a kiss to my lips. I melted into him, a hand going up to his chest, nearly dropping the bag of flour to the ground.

“Be back soon, yeah?” he whispered against me, scattering kisses over my blushing cheeks. I grinned at him, pushing lightly against his chest.

“If you’re good and don’t finish that whole bottle by the time I get back, I’ll save you a roll.” His eyes lit up at the thought. I was attempting to slow him down, never threatening to take it away, just to stay sober with me for a little longer each day.

“While the thought of that does sound nice, can’t promise anything, sweetpea.” He said, a soft smile still playing on his lips. I lightly grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me.

“At least feed the geese? I left some seeds by the garden.” They’d started showing up after our wedding, more and more flocking to nibble on the grass where I planted tomatoes. Haymitch had become their regular caretaker, telling me he had a soft spot for them and didn’t have the heart to shoo them away.

“Course I will, they like me better anyway.” he smirked, causing me to release him and leave a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah. If only they knew who buys them the seeds. Maybe they’d think twice.” I called out, shrugging my bag over my shoulder and taking off to his laughter.

I waited at the house for a few hours, waiting for Katniss to walk through the door. Prim went with Astrid on Wednesday’s, and Burdock worked all day in the mines. He’d been called to take up longer shifts, which he didn’t mind. Any spare income to save Katniss from having to put her name in that bowl any more times that she had to.

I’d finished fixing some pants of Haymitch’s that ripped, something he bitched about, blaming me for feeding him too much. I tried to wait out on putting the rolls in the oven, wanting them to be hot when she arrived. Still, she wasn’t usually this late, and I was starting to lose my mind with nothing to do. I’d already made the dough, and once the sun started to set I decided to just put them in the oven, figuring I could just deliver them to the Everdeen’s when they were done.

My mind worried for her, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself down. Maybe she just had to stay longer after school, or Burdock had ended up coming home earlier than usual and taken her to the woods. No matter how much I tried to convince myself there was no reason to get upset, something still felt off.

Finally I said fuck it, tossing the rolls in a metal container and packing them up in my bag. I was starting to wear holes into the floorboards with my pacing.

I shot up when my door burst open, the hinges practically falling off.

Katniss stood in my doorway, chest heaving, eyes red and swollen, her usual braids mostly undone and flaring. Her dress was dirty, spots of black smudging the cotton. I set everything down, running to meet her.

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” I asked, eyes searching hers, which were filling up with tears again as she heaved a sob, taking a few steps towards me and collapsing in my awaiting arms.

I sunk to the floor with her, holding her tight and stroking her hair as she sobbed harder than any child should.

“Katniss, baby, what happened? Is everyone alright?” I coaxed, my own eyes starting to get red listening to her heartbreaking sobs. She couldn’t speak, starting to hyperventilate. I pulled away, putting my arms on her shoulders to steady her, the same way Haymitch did to me when I found myself spacing out.

“Match my breathing, deep breath in, hold it, push it out.” I coached her, stern but still comforting. I didn’t want her to pass out, the last thing I needed was to cause Burdock to panic more.

She followed me, still sobbing but less so. Her face was crumpled, but a numbness was spreading over her features. A numbness I had only seen on myself in the weeks after Wiley.

“You gotta tell me what happened, sweet girl.” I cooed, hands going to push some of the hair from her wet face.

“There was a m–mining accident. Mom– Prim’s with her. Mom– she’s…. Dad— gone.” It was all she managed to get out, bursting into sobs that bordered on screaming.

Everytime something like this happened I thought I would never feel worse than I felt at that moment.

And everytime my heart found a way to devastate me further than I’d ever been.

I tried to stay strong for Katniss, tried my fucking absolute best to keep my composure for a girl that had just lost her father.

Even though I had just lost my best friend. Practically my older brother. A vital part of my small inner circle, the life behind all my best moments.

Gone. Nothing but dust and rubble.

I couldn’t be strong for her. My heart couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take anymore death. I felt like someone had pulled the last thread that kept my heart together.

So I sobbed with her, clutching one of the last pieces of Burdock Everdeen to my chest.

Haymitch would come looking for me a hour later, being stopped on his way when he heard someone whisper about the mining explosion. No survivors.

He sprinted the rest of the way, finding the door already open, Katniss asleep in my arms, cried out, me staring numbly at the wall.

He fell to the floor, scooting over to me like he was approaching a wild animal. He sat behind me, pulling my body into his chest as I let out another sob.

He knew who was in the mine.

I held Katniss tighter, impossibly tight, which somehow didn’t wake her.

“Oh Y/N. My baby, my sweet girl. I’m so sorry.” he said in my ear, voice starting to get choked up as he rocked us gently.

I fell asleep to him repeating it, hot tears rolling down his face at the state of us.

I woke up to our bed in Victor’s Village, immediately aware Katniss was no longer in my arms, tearing out of bed to find her.

I reached halfway down the hall before Haymitch caught me in his arms, bringing my body impossibly close as I thrashed against him.

“You gotta settle down honey. Katniss is safe, she’s with her mom. Settle down, Y/N. It’s okay baby.” he attempted, running a hand through my hair and pushing my head deeper into his chest.

“We did everything he asked! He hasn’t said anything to us, why would he do this Haymitch! Why would he fucking DO THIS?” I yelled, my entire body shaking the both of us. Mining explosions happen semi often, but not to this point. Snow wouldn’t risk taking out an entire squad of workers. All bets were on with their children, but never with his free labor.

He didn’t answer, which at first made me think he was just letting me cry out. It was only when I peeked up at his rigid stare that didn’t look at me, did I realize there was something he wasn’t saying.

“What. The. Fuck. Do. You . Know.” I said, my whole body on fire. If he’d withheld something Snow had said, even to protect me, I’d have a fit of rage unlike anything he’d ever seen.

“I couldn’t let him– I fucking could not let him make you do it. You don’t get it, Y/N. He was going to take you.” His voice was broken, horse and wrecked.

“Take me?” I seethed, eyes narrowing and bloodshot.

“The fucking surgery. Whatever they were going to do to you. He knows you can’t have more. I begged him, Y/N. I begged. I thought we made a deal, I– offered myself to sell. Anything but this, anything.”

My breathing stopped. He’d offered to sell his body so I wouldn’t have mine cut open.

“If they took you… what if you died on the table? What if they did something wrong? They wouldn’t let me go with you. If you walked through that door… if someone like you walked though that door—” He was starting to panic now, hands running through his hair, looking like he was going to vomit.

Louella Mccoy.

I softened, only slightly.

“Haymitch…” was all I could manage. I needed a minute, all the information wrapping around my mind, suffocating me.

Burdock. The mines. Katniss’s coal stained dress. Louella. Haymitch being placed on a board with a price tag attached to his name. My eyes falling shut to the beeping of a surgical machine.

I turned away from him, wrapping my arms around my body as I screamed.

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reilemon · 20 hours ago

Text

Hey-o, Rei's boyfriend here hijacking her page with an updated D&D analysis of lads. Honestly I've probably been thinking about this a bit too much and figured I'd post my final opinion on what each one of them would be, class-wise, in a D&D 5e universe. So for anyone interested in a random guy's opinion on the topic, here goes:

Rafayel - I am keeping my original opinion for a Bard: College of Whispers. I did think about the potential of multiclassing into a Rogue: Assassin for a more stealthy approach, but that may be more suited for his myth card. Straight Whispers Bard seems right to me.

Xavier - Also mostly keeping this one to my original opinion, which is a Paladin: Oath of Devotion. Main reason I like this one is the Channel Divinity it gets, really matching the light-sword vibe. Maybe ignore the first tenet of the oath for this one though ("Don't lie or cheat." - yeah sure...). Alternatively, he could fit as an Oath of the Watchers due to him being a hunter, but sadly no light-sword then.

Zayne - Originally I was sure he is some kind of cleric, with Astra and all. One bit of a problem though - clerics get absolutely no cold-based spells. Now, generally, of the three classic elemental types in 5e (fire, cold, lightning) cold is the forgotten middle child. Fire is the absolute family favorite and found everywhere, while lightning is found less often but still has some features dedicated to it specifically (Storm Sorcerer and Tempest Cleric for example). Cold has basically nothing, so it's not unusual that clerics wouldn't get cold-based spells, but I refuse to make a Zayne build without cold damage in there. Therefore, I think this is a better alternative: Sorcerer: Divine Soul. This changes him from being a follower of a god to having actual divine blood within him, which is more in line with his myth but meh. The main reason for this choice is the ability to get spells from both the Cleric and Sorcerer spell lists, which allows for both healing/support spells (Cleric) and cold-based spells (Sorcerer) to be chosen giving him the same combat feel while keeping the divine aspect.

Sylus - The original idea was a Shadow Monk, but after thinking about it for a bit, I think he is better suited as a Ranger: Gloom Stalker Conclave. Not your usual ranger though, this one we would build as a Strength Ranger with the Unarmed Fighting Style. I think this gives the closest Sylus vibe I can think of in 5e - a beefy unarmed fighter with shadow abilities. What sold me on this idea was the fact that Sylus has a soft spot for animals and nature, and his tracking abilities as well. Not your usual Ranger, but I think the vibe is much better this way than the original Monk idea. Caleb - Now this guy gave me some trouble initially, because firearms are not often found in 5e - or any futuristic stuff really. But then I remembered something about a specific feature, and I was immediately sold, so here goes - Artificer: Armorer. Now, I thought about Artillerist as well due to the drones, but I think Armorer fits him better for one reason alone. The Arcane Armor feature says so: "The armor replaces any missing limbs, functioning identically to a body part it is replacing." which is just perfect. Going the Infiltrator armor model route gives him an energy blast to shoot as well, but Artificers have an optional rule that gives them Firearm Proficiency, which would be in line. As far as I know Caleb is a smart-ass who likes tinkering with stuff, fitting an Artificer very nicely.

Man that took a while to type out... Feel free to comment your own opinions, I love doing things like this - I've been playing D&D and other TTRPGs for like 10 years now. Have a good day y'all!

-Rei's boyfriend

#love and deepspace

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skyward-floored · 2 days ago

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Maybe something about time and Wars back before Time married Malon? Like Time and Wars struggling through the big brother/pseudo parent dynamic? I know there's thar one fic with how Wars got his name but I was thinking something when Wars was a little older maybe?

If you've already finished taking requests ignore this lol it's like 3 am XD

Finally working on those Incredibles au requests again! This one got... kinda long heh, but it is what it is. Hope you like it Tellie :)

————————————————————

Time’s head was killing him.

He held back a groan as he trudged up the steps to his apartment, giving a half-hearted wave to Gaepora as he passed him putting some trash out. He’d had a headache even before he’d been smacked in the head by that wooden plank earlier, and though he was pretty tough, it still hurt.

And after all that the crooks had gotten away. Of course.

Time sighed. All in all it had been a rotten day, and he was looking forward to eating something and then passing out for a while.

He fumbled with his key as he reached the door, trying not to drop the bag of bread a bakery owner had gifted him for stopping a runaway truck from hitting her shop, and finally managed the lock, sighing in relief as he stepped into the apartment he shared with his brother. He glanced at the table where Warriors would have put a note if he’d been downstairs with Gaepora, but the spot was empty. Good, he was home.

Time knew Warriors would hear him come in and come down from his room, so he didn’t bother to call, setting down the grocery bag and rubbing the bridge of his nose as his headache flared. Man. He hoped they still had painkillers for smaller troubles like headaches kicking around somewhere.

At least they had plenty of food. The mere idea of grocery shopping was physically painful at the moment.

Time made his way to the bathroom, flicking on the light then immediately flicking it off again when it made his headache throb. Instead he drew on his powers a bit, enough to make his eyes glow, and stared at what was in the cabinet behind the mirror, trying to think past his headache in order to pick the right bottle.

It took longer then it should have, but Time finally pulled out the familiar bottle of painkillers, downing two of them with a quick swig of water and a sigh. There. Now he just had to wait for them to kick in.

Time left the bathroom and went back to the kitchen, mind fixed on the sandwich he was planning on making. He’d gotten about halfway through pulling out the ingredients he wanted when he realized that Warriors still hadn’t come down, and paused.

That was... unusual.

“...Wars?” Time called, setting down the small container of tomato.

There was no reply, and he hesitated a moment. Warriors was supposed to be home right now, and Time usually trusted him in that regard. He’d been coming home a little later lately, but not several hours late. Maybe he’d gone to bed? It was pretty late. Or he’d gotten absorbed in something and hadn’t heard him?

Time sighed and trooped his way up to his little brother’s room, knocking once and pushing open the door when he didn’t get a reply. An empty room met him, and Time quickly glanced around.

Nothing.

A flicker of fear licked at Time, but he stuffed it down, moving more quickly now as he checked a few more out-of-the-way spots where Warriors sometimes hung out in the house. Still nothing.

“Warriors?” Time called again, the fear hitting him more intensely. “Link if you’re here, answer me.”

No reply.

Time’s mind started whirling through the facts, what he knew, what might have happened, where his brother could be. Warriors was supposed to be home right now and wasn’t. The door had been locked, the windows shut, so unless someone had covered their tracks, the apartment probably hadn’t been broken into.

So where was his brother?

Time couldn’t help the fear that was growing in his chest as he tried to think, pounding in time with his headache. Warriors was probably just somewhere goofing off. He was responsible for his age, but he was still only eight. He probably just fell asleep somewhere strange, it was past his typical bedtime.

Unless he hadn’t, and something had happened to him. Unless he hadn’t been careful enough with his powers, and a villain had seen them.

Unless he’d been kidnapped.

Time’s hands balled into fists, and he hurried back into Warriors’ room, scanning the area again. Warriors kept things fairly neat, but there was still a pile of laundry by his bed, a handful of books scattered on his table, the stuffed penguin he pretended he didn’t sleep with half under his pillow. Just the usual light mess.

A cool breeze brushed Time’s hair, and he turned to see that the window was wide open, shades blowing in the wind.

Fear struck Time more intensely. Maybe someone had come in the window here and not bothered with the rest of the house. Maybe they’d covered their tracks.

Maybe Warriors really had been kidnapped.

Time swallowed and rushed back down, grabbing a coat and his keys and ignoring the food all over the counter. He needed to find Warriors, now. He’d start with Gaepora and work his way out, call the police if he had to. If Warriors had been kidnapped he wouldn’t stop at anything to find him—

Time took the stairs down two at a time, and had just raised his hand to bang on Gaepora’s door when he heard footsteps.

He whirled around, fists raised, then froze as he saw Warriors standing a few feet away, looking just as surprised to see him as Time was.

“Oh. Hi Time,” Warriors said with a nervous little smile.

Time stared, and Warriors slowly edged his way around him, then scrambled up the stairs to their apartment.

“You— Warriors!” Time shouted once he snapped out of his shock, and ran up after him, a mix of relief and anger crashing over him.

When he got back upstairs again, he found Warriors sitting at the counter calmly making a sandwich like there wasn’t anything wrong. Countless angry words came to his mind that he could say, things he could shout at his brother for making him worry his head off, but he managed to bite the worst of them back.

“Warriors,” he said through gritted teeth as he dropped his keys and coat. Warriors stiffened.

“...Yes?”

Time rubbed his forehead, really wishing the painkillers would kick in already. “What time is it?”

“Time, you know what ti—”

“Just answer the question.”

Warriors fidgeted. “It’s... um. Like... almost ten I think?”

“Uh-huh. And what time are you supposed to come back in the evenings?” Time asked, and Warriors didn’t meet his eyes.

“...seven-thirty or dark,” he mumbled, setting lettuce on his sandwich.

Time breathed in, then breathed out, trying not to blow up. Getting mad at an eight year old was immature. Time was an adult. He wouldn’t get mad, even if his little brother had just about scared the life out of him and his heart was still pounding like he’d run up several flights of stairs. He would ignore the urge to wring his neck, and try and handle this responsibly.

Warriors took a bite of sandwich, presumably so he wouldn’t have to talk any more, and Time breathed in sharply through his nose.

“Warriors, this is the third time recently that you haven’t been home when I thought you would be.”

“It’s boring here when you’re at work,” Warriors mumbled through his mouthful.

“I know, which is why you’re allowed to play with Sky when it’s still light out, but once it gets dark I want you home,” Time stressed. “Or at least downstairs at Gaepora’s.”

“But Sun has an early bedtime and I can’t play with her! And then I have to watch Mr. Gaepora’s weird history shows,” Warriors argued back as he swallowed his bite.

Time crossed his arms. “Well I’m sorry, but you can’t just run around and do whatever you want all the time Warriors, it’s dangerous—”

“I’m just hanging out with Sky! Why does it matter?” Warriors interrupted, and Time frowned.

“Because when I expect you to be here and you’re not, I have to figure out where you are. I don’t care if you want to hang out with Sky, but not when it’s late and you’re supposed to be home!” Time emphasized. “You said you wouldn’t do this again last time Warriors, but here we are! You were off having fun and I was sitting here wondering if you might have been kidnapped, you can’t—”

“Why would I get kidnapped?! You’re the one who’s a superhero!” Warriors interrupted with a scowl, and Time glared.

“Because you have powers too. And if anyone ever found out we were related then they would use that against me!”

“Going over to Sky’s isn’t going to get me kidnapped!” Warriors shouted, and Time crossed his arms.

“You don’t know that. And me not knowing where you are makes it a lot more likely. And that’s why I’m grounding you,” he said firmly, and Warriors stared at him in shock.

A beat of silence passed between them. Time’s headache throbbed.

Then Warriors regained his senses.

“You what?!”

“I’m grounding you. For the weekend. I was on the verge of calling the police, you need to understand this, Link!” Time exclaimed.

Warriors looked furious, and he stomped his foot. “You can’t ground me! You’re not even my dad!”

“Well I’m the closest you’ve got, so too bad,” Time snapped in return. “You’re grounded. Go to your room.”

“Fine!” Warriors yelled, snatching his sandwich and nearly throwing it onto a plate. He whirled towards the stairs with it, but before he went, he leveled Time with a venomous glare. “I wish I had a real dad instead of you!”

Then Warriors whirled around and stomped upstairs, the door to his room slamming.

Time stared up after him, his anger draining away into exhaustion, accompanied by a cold ache in his middle. He slowly sat down on a stool, and swallowed, looking up the stairs before turning away.

Warriors needed time to cool down. They both needed sleep.

And Time... really, really just wanted those painkillers to kick in.

(...)

The weekend passed quietly, Time not exchanging more than about ten words with his brother.

It was like a wall had been erected between them, one that neither of them knew how to breach, and so they simply left it there. Warriors spent most of the weekend shut up in his room when Time was home (Time had informed Gaepora of Warriors’s grounded status, and he’d promised he’d make sure he didn’t leave while Time was out) despite that not being part of his punishment, and by the last day, Time was starting to wonder if he’d made a mistake.

His brother’s words just kept echoing around in his head, hollowing out his chest and leaving a cavern inside of it. Maybe they wouldn’t have hurt so much if they didn’t echo a thought Time had been having ever since he met Warriors, but he didn’t blame his brother for saying them. He was sure Warriors had had the thought several times.

Time was a disaster after all, keeping odd hours, coming home bloody and injured, barely scraping his way through keeping them both housed and fed.

No wonder he wanted a real dad. Warriors didn’t deserve that. Any of that.

It probably would be better if Warriors had a real father, and a mother, people who could properly care for him. Give him real stability. Unlike Time, who was just floundering his way through it.

Am I really the best person for this? To raise him? Time wondered, staring tiredly at a pile of clothes that needed to be washed. Mom left him with me, but... she just said to take care of him.

Maybe taking care of him means finding him a real family.

Time swallowed. He’d... think about it. In the meantime though, he’d give Warriors the space he obviously wanted, and not push anything.

The weekend and grounding ended, but the tension between Warriors and Time didn’t, the two spending most of their time dancing around each other, only exchanging necessary words. The gap felt like it only grew wider between them, the wall growing, cracks widening, and Time didn’t know what to do to fix it. Sky came over one day and took one look at the two of them and opened his mouth to say something, but Warriors dragged him outside before he could.

They were both messes, but Time just... had no clue how to clean it up.

And things didn’t change in that regard until more than a week later.

It was the next Monday, in the middle of the night. Time was fast asleep in bed, sleeping off not hero work for once, but an exhausting shift at the store he part-timed at. Almost everything that could have gone wrong, did, and Time likely would have stayed asleep until noon but for the sound of his door creaking open.

Time didn’t move as he woke up, keeping his breathing deep and even while he listened. Despite his outward appearance, he was on high alert, listening intently to whatever had come in, and fully prepared to leap into action. Soft footsteps approached his bed, but Time recognized them, and relaxed. He wasn’t in any danger.

A wisp of cold air brushed by Time’s face, making him want to nestle further under his blanket, but he stayed still, waiting to see what his little brother would do. He wouldn’t rush things.

“...Time?” a voice finally whispered after several minutes, and Time cracked his eyes open to see Warriors fidgeting beside the bed. He was clutching a stuffed animal, and seemed pale in the faint light from the moon outside. “Um...”

“Something wrong?” Time whispered back, and Warriors shuffled his feet.

“Can I sleep in here?” he asked in a small voice, and Time breathed out, recognizing the waver in his tone. Nightmare.

...It had been a while since Warriors had had one of those.

Time briefly considered saying no, a bitter part of him wanting to let his brother deal with his own problems, but then he heard a faint sniffle, and his bitterness immediately faded. Warriors had come to him because he was scared. Was he really going to ignore him just because they hadn’t been getting along?

Time exhaled, and nodded, patting the sheet beside him. Warriors immediately crawled up and nestled under the blanket, his and Time’s sides not quite touching. Time thought the cool air he brought with him felt colder than normal, and he frowned.

“Bad one?” he asked finally, and Warriors curled tighter around his stuffed animal.

He nodded silently, and Time hummed, seeing Warriors wipe at his face out of the corner of his eye.

Neither of them said anything else, and the silence felt... odd, between them. Heavy. Just like it had all the past week.

This was the longest they’d spent time together since the night Time had grounded Warriors, and Time wasn’t sure what to do. Should he say something? Try and figure out if Warriors wanted to talk? Or should he stay quiet and just fall back asleep?

Before he could decide, Warriors suddenly shifted a little, and Time heard him let out a shaky exhale.

“Time?” he whispered.

Time let out a questioning hum, and heard Warriors swallow.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” he said, so quietly Time barely heard it. “About what I said, about... you know. I just...”

His voice died, and Time couldn’t help but hold an arm out in wordless invitation. Warriors took it, nestling under his arm with a tiny sigh, and they went quiet again, a gust of wind rattling the roof outside. Time could feel Warriors shaking, just a little, and he tightened his grip.

“I get it,” Time finally whispered back. “I know it’s hard. I just want to keep you safe, Link. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Warriors said in a tiny voice.

The silence fell over them again.

Warriors held tight to his stuffed animal, and Time kept his arm around him, occasionally running his fingers soothingly across his skin. The roof creaked again, and Time breathed out, looking up at the ceiling and tracing the dim outline of the light fixture he could barely make out in the dark.

He should bring up what he’d been thinking about. He needed to know if Warriors would want it or not before he truly pursued the option, even if the idea of it made his throat strangely tight.

Farore above he hated emotional stuff like this. It was so much easier to just swing a blade or punch problems away.

“Warriors?” Time asked softly. His brother let out a questioning noise, and Time swallowed. “If I... if I could find someone, someone else, for you to stay with... who would be... better, than me... would you want..?”

“No,” Warriors immediately blurted out.

“Not even if you could have real parents?” Time asked quietly, and Warriors sat up and looked at him with a terrified expression.

“No! You’re my family, Time, I don’t want someone else!” he said in a hurry. “I know I was mad about the grounding thing, but I didn’t mean what I said, I really do want you, you’re my... you’re all I...”

Warriors’ voice broke, and he scrubbed angrily at his face, Time frozen beside him. He hadn’t expected such immediate opposition, or obvious terror from Warriors, and he watched in dismay as a few fragile flakes of snow whirled past, Warriors’ lip trembling in the dark.

“Don’t send me away,” Warriors choked out, and Time sat up and pulled him into his arms.

“Oh Link, I won’t,” Time said in a harsh whisper, trying to keep his own voice from breaking. Relief poured over him like a waterfall, but it was mixed with guilt from scaring his brother so much. “I promise I won’t, it was only an idea, Wars. I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”

Warriors hiccuped, shaking in his arms. “I don’t. I want to stay with you.”

Don’t leave me too.

Time heard the silent plea, and hugged Warriors more tightly.

“Okay,” he said softly, and ran a hand over his brother’s head. “Okay. That’s fine.”

I’m not going anywhere.

Warriors let out a miserable sniffle, and Time swallowed, tucking his head under his chin. He lightly rocked his brother as they sat together, listening to the roof creak, and watching the moonlight that was splashed across the floor slowly move as time passed.

Warriors slowly relaxed as the night wore on, but he was still tense when Time finally steered them down to the bed again, tiredness still weighing on him. Warriors stayed squished up beside him, and Time heard his breathing gradually begin to even out.

“I miss Mom,” Warriors whispered suddenly, almost like an afterthought. His voice was muffled by Time’s shirt. “I wish she was here.”

Time closed his eyes. “Yeah. Me too.”

This would all be a lot easier with her around.

Neither of them said anything further, the subject of their mother never one they lingered on. It was too difficult of a topic.

But Time set his head on Warriors’, and Warriors nestled up to him with a quiet sigh, the wall between them finally broken, the crack breached with their conversation. Things were never perfect between them, probably never would be, but the hole that had been made was patched up now.

They’d fixed things.

And as the both of them drifted back off to sleep, Warriors still nestled up to Time’s arm tight around him, Time promised himself he would keep it that way.

#time: I’m and ADULT I am RESPONSIBLE #also Time: *literally age 17 or so*#but he’s thought of himself as an adult since he was like twelve so it’s fine. it’s fine. (they’re both so messed up help these children)#answers from the floor #telemna hyelle my beloved #incredibles au #Incredibles au fic #IAU time #IAU Warriors #fic #writing from the floor

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hiiiandbyeee · 1 day ago

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haii :] can i req a hs au with chigiri pls? :D

Helloo(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)guys I'm trying to do all request and promise I will but I'm gonna start with this (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Highschool chigiri

When you first entered your classroom, someone caught your attention a boy sitting at his desk, your he caught my attention because he was such a beautiful boy Since you were new to the class, you didn't know most of the people, so you slowly walked towards his desk. You asked him while pointing to the empty seat next to him.

"Is this desk empty? May I sit there?" You asked him, slightly lowering your head to his level.

He lifted his head and looked at you, his hair was slightly covering his face.

"yeah sure you can sit there"

You put your bag down and sat down. You felt a little shy, but you tried to look calm.

He started looking at you a little too long Then he asked a question

"so what's your name new one"

You were literally lost in thought before you heard his voice, so you were startled when you heard his voice, but you answered.

"Uhm I'm y-n l-n and you?"

"I'm chigiri hyoma nice to meet you or whatever"

You lowered your gaze or looked left and right, but you couldn't find the courage to meet his eyes. But he didn't stop looking at you, like he was analyzing you.

Then he slowly reached out and took a lock of your hair and brought it closer and looked at it, then smelled it.

"your hair looks good and smell is like rose what shampoo you use?"

Oh You froze You might be redder than a tomato right now Then you came to your senses

"uhm If you want, I can write it on a piece of paper and give it to you and tell you where it is sold"

He suddenly nodded his head in approval.

"yeah definitely I need that shampoo or If you want, you can come with me to get the shampoo, don't get me wrong"

You felt like you had to scream now. You were red with embarrassment but you accepted his offer.

How was your school day? Normal you met with some other boys other girls you though they're your friends probably

The next day you met Chigiri and started walking towards the shop he was walking next to you

You wanted to talk to him, get to know him.

"soo Do you have any hobbies?"

He turned his head and looked at you.

"yeah I'm playing soccer usually"

You smiled and imagined him playing football, he looked cool.

But you noticed that he turned his head away after smiling, you thought "my smile is probably ugly" But you saw his ears were bright red You blushed too

Normally you would see such things in TV series and think it's ridiculous. Is karma something like this?

Finally, you two reached the store. The store also sold make-up products. So, your plan was to look at the make-up products while he was looking at the shampoos.

But instead of going to the shampoo section, he followed you

"what are you doing chigiri?"

"shopping?"

"I thought you wanted to go to the shampoo section"

"I want to go with you"

At that moment your cheeks turned even redder, your gaze went down, then you heard a light giggling sound coming from him and he said

"You've been blushing ever since the day we met, you know I can see that, right?"

You knew from that moment that you two were probably gonna be like these clingy lovebirds in high school.

Author note 💖

Hello guyss again, sorry if it was short but if y'all want a part two just text it I try to fulfill most requests and will try So don't forget to wait (I'm about to complete other requests have mercy •́⁠︿⁠•̀)

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #chigiri hyoma #blue lock chigiri #blue lock x y/n

20 notes · View notes

asaarii · 2 days ago

Text

just some various works that will prob never get finished chars included (in order) aka you can see all of my phases

mark grayson (invincible) [1.3k]

heartseel kayn and phel w streamer (league) [1.8k]

sett (league) [1.7k]

zagreus (acc might finish lowk) (hades) [856]

genji shimada (overwatch) [1.5k]

iso (valorant) [1.1k]

yasuo (league) [1.5k]

Mark Grayson [1.3K]

If there was one benefit to the cowl, it would be being able to hide the look of confusion on your face when a familiar sonic boom thunders through the sky before crashing into buildings with little regard to the people within. The ground tremors from the sudden force, splintering at the apex of the collision into loose and jagged debris.

Your breath hitches when the first building falls, your legs moving faster than your mind as you leap from your post atop a building. Just barely, you manage to save a family from death’s waiting maw, screaming at the top of your lungs for everyone in the area to keep moving. Though your voice is altered significantly by the modulator, the evident urgency in your tone sends many running; clawing and crying for a chance at survival—one you’re not sure many will have.

You do your best to help, grappling between buildings to save who you could, and pushing down waves of regret whenever you were a few seconds too late.

It had been a normal patrol at the start, and you’d even considered turning in early due to the lack of activity. You rarely took patrols during the day as your powers were dampened significantly by the presence of the sun, but a few days ago Rex had requested you take his place while he helped Rae move into her new apartment.

(“Please,” he whines, gripping your shoulders, batting his lashes in a way that has you reeling back, shoving his face away with your hand. “I’ll get your favorite takeout whenever you want! Just do me this one solid, I swear.”

You turn to Mark, your boyfriend caught up in a conversation with Eve, unable to catch your pleading gaze. As if sensing your unease, he looks at you, eyes alight with curiosity as they flicker between you and Rex before he shrugs unhelpfully with a small smile.

Your eyes narrow as your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek while you weigh your options. Against your better judgment, you spare one last glance to his pathetic, pleading face before ultimately giving in. “Fine,” you groan out reluctantly, pushing him fully off you only for him to crush you in a hug to which you return stiffly.

He deserved his moment of happiness, you suppose. You all do after everything that’s happened.

Rex pulls away from you, playfully slapping Mark on his shoulder before running off to tell Rae the good news. “Dude, you’re girlfriend is the best!”

“I know,” Mark says proudly as he comes up behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his lips pressing a feather-light kiss on the crown of your head. “C’mon, mom made your favorite.”

“Mark…” Your quiet murmur is picked up easily by his enhanced senses, your voice tinged with the slightest hint of hesitation.

He raises a hand before you can protest, pinching your cheek lightly. “Surely the Moon Knight can take just one night off, right?”

You really could never say no to this man, could you?

You flick his nose playfully, your scowl bearing no real heat as Khonshu’s voice echoes in your brain, likely arguing against going with Mark. But, for the first time in a while, you ignore the god, opting instead for a rare occasion of putting yourself first.

That was the first time in weeks you’d spent the night together, sharing your feelings and fears beneath his protective comforter while your insomnia took its hold, keeping your mind awake late into the hours of the night.

Luckily Mark had a few other ways to tire you out.)

Your muscles throb dully beneath your plated super suit in exertion, the white plates now stained a deep scarlet hue. You push forward, hands catching onto a flying car before it can crash into yet another building. The force drags you forward, but you manage to plant your feet and stop it just before it collides into the building which you now recognize as your favorite café.

A win amidst a sea of losses.

At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself, eyes flickering between the dilapidated buildings and the multitude of corpses left behind by the unknown threat. That’s when you see it. The figure that floats above it all, his familiar red cape flowing with ominous grandeur.

You know that suit.

But his face isn’t the same as you remember.

“Mark…?” His name leaves your lips a breathless question, confusion and doubt growing in the pit of your stomach with each cautious step you take toward your boyfriend.

Something’s wrong.

You feel it in the way his eyes snap to you without an ounce of recognition, cold behind his trademark goggles. And you most certainly feel it when his hand tightens around your throat before throwing you face-first into the asphalt. You make a choked noise at the feeling of your shoulder dislocating, the ground fracturing beneath you as a result of his strength.

It’s only then that you realize that the man above you isn’t your Mark, but an echo of what could’ve been. His hold on you is tight as he holds you up by the cape, scrutinizing every concerningly steady beat of your heart.

He leans closer, taking in the small details of your mask and suit, confusion settling on his face for the briefest of seconds before it returns to clinical stoicism, and he drops you unceremoniously onto the jagged ground. He clicks his tongue as you gasp for breath, glaring down at you with his lips pressed into a tight line.

You take the opportunity to muster the ability to kick him away from you, momentarily stunning him with your strength as he crashes into the café you’d just saved. The strangely dressed Mark reappears from the rubble with furrowed brows, brushing off stray dust from his suit.

You don’t give him a chance to recover, pinning him to a wall by the cape with an ahnk before popping your shoulder into place. You stalk closer, truncheons in hand as the sun disappears behind the horizon line. The Mark before you follows your movements closely like a predator waiting to pounce.

His jaw ticks as his hand closes around the ahnk, no doubt feeling the sting of Khonshu’s wrath as it burns through his glove and skin. Regardless, he pulls it free from the wall, throwing it at you with newly renewed conviction. “Who are you?” Though his tone is detached, you pick up on the smallest inklings of curiosity.

You hate the similarity he bears to your Invincible down to the very intonation of his question. But you can’t falter—you will not falter; not as a defender of Earth, nor as Khonshu’s sole avatar. Rubble crumbles above as the false Invincible before you holds your gaze both of you silent as a moment passes with rising tension.

He’s in front of you before you can blink, his fist pulled back before he punches you hard enough to level a whole city block.

You brace for impact, just barely finding time to raise your arms before you’re sent flying back. Had the sun still been up, you would’ve been nothing more than another stain on the concrete, even if only for a few moments, but all you feel is the blinding pain in your arms and back as you’re sent flying through a multitude of crumbled buildings.

It doesn’t take long for your bones to mend, but it takes even less time for the caped imposter to find you, appearing in a heartstopping gust of wind a few meters away from you.

“It’s rude to not answer when someone asks you something.” His arms remain crossed across his chest as he stares down at you from his place in the air. Next thing you know, glass shards dig into your back as he throws you by the ankle into another building.

So much for answering his question.

HEARTSTEEL with Streamer!Reader [1.8K]

kayn:

always comes in at the most random times. which can lead to a mixed bag or reactions ranging from a victory kiss to a scream of terror from the depths of your soul

most likely does it on purpose too because he’s a bitch like that.

could not give any less of a fuck if people knew you were together or not

sure pr is always on his ass but blah balah ablaha

you’re his partner and he’d be damned if he didn’t show you off to both your fans and his.

(he does reign himself in when yone steps in, though. holy shit that man is scary when he wants to be.)

Your headset sits heavy on your head, a sponsored brand you find yourself mentally critiquing as you focus on the game before you. A bead of sweat drips from your brow, a fruit of your concentration while your hands remain shaking and clammy on your controller.

The sound a heartbeat echoes distantly, though whether it’s your own or a game mechanic, you don’t quite know.You don’t notice a shadow shifting behind you or your chat trying to warn you, having muted it in order to focus solely on the game.

Arms curl around your chair as you turn down an infamous hallway, each creaking step of the rotting planks below your character sending a jolt of fear down your spine. Kayn watches behind your oblivious figure, trying to find the perfect moment to execute.

Unlike you, who wanted to go in completely blind, he’d watched numerous gameplays in order to pinpoint each jumpscare. Sure, he’d caught some flack from Yone during practices, but the thought of your reactions was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

It doesn’t take long for a familiar door to come into view, followed shortly by a series of quick-time events.

The ghost of his touch trails up your arm, yet you remain wholly unaware due to the stress of every new event. His hand removes one of your headphones, breath warming the cusp of your ear just as the final event appears on screen.

“Boo.”

Your sudden jolt causes you to hit the wrong button, successfully triggering a rather brutal jumpscare. As you jump back in pure fear, your controller flies from your hand, connecting squarely with your boyfriend’s nose.

The next few moments are pure chaos, with you screaming about an intruder in your house and Kayn keeled over in an attempt to stop the blood.

When you finally come to your senses, you’re shocked to find that your so-called intruder is actually your boyfriend, finally home from an extensive tour around Valoran following the success of Heartsteel’s latest album: STORMSURGE.

“Shieda?!” You’re quick to make your way to his side, panic rising in place of your previous fear. Blood pools in his cupped palms as he rushes out of the room with you trailing close behind whilst you apologize profusely.

Your poor, poor viewers are left with a view of an empty chair and an open door on your facecam while the death screen lingers on your monitor. Though muffled, they can hear snippets of the interaction transpiring between you and the rockstar from down the hall.

“Tip your head—forward not back, dumbass!”

“Fuck! Why’d you throw the controller so hard.”

“I was scared! And you weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow…”

“Was s’posed to be a surprise.” There’s clear fondness in his tone despite the nasally sound of him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t even hear you open the door.” You’re rubbing his back in soothing, trying your best not to wince at the copious amount of blood staining your sink.

“Well you also didn’t hear me leaning on your chair.” There’s a pause as Kayn sighs before mumbling a low, “I shadow traveled anyway,” uncaught by your otherwise sensitive mic.

It gets really hard to stay annoyed by his little prank when he looks like a kicked puppy. Even from this angle, you can see the small jut in his lip as he pouts, scowling slightly from the pain of his injured nose.

“M’sorry,” he apologizes after you bandage his thankfully unbroken nose. You can only chuckle as you clean his face and hands free of any blood, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry too. I overreacted.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, leading the two of you back to your studio, “never apologize for feeling scared.”

Your chat rejoices at your return, half consoling Kayn and half making fun of him for being taken out in such a hilariously stupid way. He discreetly flips them a middle finger while you settle back in your seat, quickly closing the horror game in favor of a more lighthearted multiplayer. You miss the way he smiles when you respond to chat, though your perceptive viewers see the way his heterochromatic eyes shine in your dim lighting.

They see a downbad loverboy instead of the coldhearted rockstar face he offers the rest of the world.

yeah… sometimes he games with you, but he insisted to have his own controller and setup

if you look closely in the very right corner of your face cam, you can see the edge of his monitor peeking through; a candid shot of you the lockscreen

to tell the difference, he says

bullshit

sometimes he barges in without even knowing your streaming, already ranting about something that pissed him off

you always mute, ready to listen and offer advice on whatever he needs

he’s a mod when he’s not physically with you, banning any freaks who think they have a chance with you

he loves you and loves that you’re so confident in yourself, but your safety will always be your top priority

aphelios:

he’s with you every step of the way

he was your first supporter, after all

usually, he sits just out of frame and if you listen closely, you can hear a few of his mixes in the background when you speak

or he’s your camera man whenever you’re filming something outside the comfort of your home

there are also times he appears as a figure in your door—an ominous shadow, standing there menacingly for moments at a time before disappearing down the hall

this has led to a multitude of conspiracies about your apartment being haunted by a tall, lanky ghost

he finds it funny

you do not—okay it’s a little funny trying to suppress your smile as you dismiss your viewer’s concerns

your chat has grown a bit suspicious of your odd behavior, but you always brush it off as them being paranoid

you both finally decide to introduce him properly after you reached a particularly big follower goal

The camera blinks a bright red as your stream comes to life, a slew of comments come flooding in your chat, congratulating you for finally reaching the goal you’d been striving for for quite a while.

“Hey, guys! Welcome to my 500k follower special.” You wave at the camera, clapping your hands together while your eyes quickly scan the comments. “Thank you, ๑pinpinipi for the ten dollar dono! Yeah, as you guys can see, we’re gonna be baking today.”

๑getdiffed: we?? hmmmmm very very suspicious…

๑colon3: not rlly…but they’re doing the staring thing again

๑fardeded: IM SO EXCITED JBGJBONLNMK IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS STREABM FOREVERRRR

“Haha, I’m happy to see the enthusiasm, fard! Glad to know you’re still with us after all these years. Today, as many of you have guessed, I have a special little helper in the kitchen today—well, not exactly little, but you get the point.” You nod to the empty space beside you, encouraging the blue-haired male to join you in front of the camera.

He steps closer hesitantly, but stands tall with a soft nudge of your shoulder. Anything to see you smile.

๑willMYseed: NO FUCKING WAY IS THAT APHELIOS

๑colon3: WHAT THE HELLL

๑getdiffed: I KNEW THEY WERE SEEING SOMEONE BUT HOLY SHIT I DIDNT THINKNIT WAS HIM

๑fardeded: its all making sense now. i KNEW the music in the bg of someof their streams was familiar I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS THE COMPOSITION FOR STORMSURGE

๑averagegodling: who in the world is aphelios

๑averagegodling: WAIT HE’S THAT GUY FROM HEARTSTEEL???? :[user]_wtf:

๑ily[user]: gn. ive lost.

๑averagegodling: bros acting like they had a chance w [user] :skull:

You let out a boisterous laugh, leaning on your lover for support as your legs buckle beneath you. He holds you, smiling down at you gently as helps you back up.

“Sorry,” you wave a dismissive hand, “sorry, you guys are just too funny—fuck, what were we making again, Phel?”

He smirks as he whispers the dish in your ear, making sure to cover the mic clipped to your shirt to ensure that only you could hear his voice. His eyes stare dead into the camera, his hand lovingly stroking down your arm with the full intention to stake his claim.

“Right! Thanks, love,” you kiss his cheek absentmindedly before turning back to the camera, “we’re making yakgwa! It’s one of Phel’s favorites.”

๑willMYseed: WRITE THAT DOWN GUYS YAKGWA IS ONE OF APHELIOS’ FAVORITE FOODS

๑colon3: good googly moogly dID YOU SEE THAT SMIRK

๑fardeded: we get it king, they’re yours:[user]_sob]

Aphelios bends down, allowing you to pin his hair up with the gaudiest clip you could borrow from Alune without much protest, even allowing you to leave a lingering kiss on his freshly exposed forehead. With a roll of his eyes and a ruffle of your hair as payback, the two of you set to work in order to make the fried dessert.

It doesn’t take long to discern which of the two twins holds the culinary expertise.

(Hint, it isn’t Aphelios.)

He’s squinting at the iPad placed between the two of you. There’s a cute furrow in his brows you’ve only seen when he was making music. It’s rare to see him so concentrated on something other than his craft.

What you didn’t know is that he’s only like this because it was you who asked. Had it been Sett, Ezreal, or, god forbid, Kayn asking him to do this, he would’ve rolled his eyes and pushed Alune their way and called it a day. But it isn’t. It’s you; the person he’d tear down the moon itself for if it meant seeing you smile one last time.

“…Phel?”

He turns to you, slit brow raised in silent question.

“Does this flour look off to you?” You tilt the bowl toward him and he leans closer only to blanch at the odd concoction stirred within the bowl.

Oh. Haha. He was wondering where he misplaced K’sante’s protein powder. Silly him. Without much thought, he takes the bowl, chucking it in the sink with a quick text to Alune to pick up some wheat flour.

Oops?

๑PrideOfNazumah has donated $15: hey :)) could you check if aphelios has some birthday cake flavored protein powder left :)) both sett and i seem to have run out :)) no pressure :))

Sett [1.7K]

The world was cruel, often uncaring of those it brought punishment upon. Mothers, children, fathers, and lovers; nobody was safe from the ever-winding threads that wove history together, creating an ugly amalgamation of wars, famine, and ruination.

Regardless, you do your best to create a safe place in the world for your son, even if it’s difficult for the two of you to see eye to eye on most occasions. He has his father’s stubbornness, bearing the same crinkle in his nose whenever he bears the fangs he had inherited from you right back at you. Though, perhaps the worst thing he’d gotten from his father was his venom-laced tongue which spewed poison that hurt your heart more than any blade.

You never once blamed him, though.

You were the reason papa wasn’t around anymore. You were the reason he had to move to the outskirts of Navori away from everything he grew up with. You were the reason he had nothing. You reason your child—your own flesh and blood—despised your very existence.

Your fault.

Your fault!

It was all your fault!

Yet you took it all in stride. Still smiling and greeting him every morning with a gentle kiss to the forehead that he reels away from. Still tidying his uniform despite his protests, and still walking him to school even if he refuses to walk anywhere near you. It’s all worth seeing the smile that lights up his face when he catches sight of his friends in the schoolyard, completely disregarding the bidding of good luck you offer him.

Every day you smile to yourself as you turn your heel, breathing deeply in hopes of finding a job as funds are beginning to dwindle and the thought of selling your body sends a shiver down your spine.

You’d done it before, though, and ironically it was actually how you met your son’s father. The you of the past would have been quick to hop on the idea as it paid well and was relatively simple, but you could never make the mistake of falling in love with a client ever again.

Friends had warned you, truly they tried to help, but you didn’t heed their words. Their pleas for your well-being fell deaf in comparison to how your heart initially beat upon first forming a connection with the man. He was kind, gentle, and handsome to boot, but the flags—both green and red—were tinted by rose lenses as you found yourself falling a bit too hard too fast.

Maybe if you’d been a bit more preceptive you would have seen the glaring signs, like how his previously warm touches became cold, or how he smiled less when the two of you met up, or how his once soothing words began to make you doubt yourself and your worth little by little. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have been so shocked by his venomous words when you’d told him about the pregnancy.

You’ll never forget the look of raw anger and disgust that crossed his face as he clicked his tongue and stormed off with the excuse of cooling off. Your parents offered little support in the ordeal, ashamed of you for earning your keep in such an unkempt manner and getting pregnant so early on in life as a result of it. At least you had your friends to pour your burdens out to, or at least you used to, until you turned tail and fled the province, unable to look your parents in the eyes, or bear the scorn imposed upon you by your supposed lover.

Before you can delve too deep into the painful memories, you bring yourself back to reality, nodding kindly at your interviewer who gives you an unimpressed look in return.

She’s human, you note; her nails are trimmed short in comparison to your razor-sharp claws that fiddle restlessly in your lap, her ears are at the side of her head and bear skin unlike the fuzzy ones at the top of your head, and also unlike your own, hers don’t betray your emotions with a downward tilt. Her eyes travel between you and your resume, and you can’t help but feel scrutinized under her predatory stare.

Ironic, isn’t it?

Vastaya are typically known to be far stronger than the average human, bearing magic that most could only dream to hold that’s usually bolstered by their animal-like attributes. Yet here you were, cowering before a human who bears not a flicker of magic trickling through her veins. You do your best to shrink into yourself, eyes flickering anywhere but on her as a result.

The gaze of your interviewer softens a near-unnoticeable amount as she gnaws the inside of her cheek and once more, she glances at your resume. “Look,” she starts, quiet and slow as if to not startle an already frightened animal, “I don’t believe our business is the best place for you.” She can’t help but wince when you deflate, forcing yourself to pull through despite the harsh sting of being rejected by yet another job.

“It’s just…” She struggles to find the words, “Our business deals primarily with business transport, and it says here that you’re a single parent, right?” You can only muster a weak nod in response, desperately attempting to hear her out through the torrent of thoughts in your mind. She grabs your hand from across the table, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with her thumb.

It’s far beyond the boundaries of a normal interview, but she can’t help but empathize with you and your clear anguish. “You wouldn’t want to leave your son alone, would you? Most in our line of work don’t return from the first job, and I don’t think you want to imagine your son without you. So please, if not for you, then for your son, find another place of work.”

Her words do little to comfort you, but you nod along anyway, simply wanting to leave the vicinity as quickly as possible. However, just as you think she’s finally finished with her long-winded rejection, she fishes into her loose-fitting hanfu, pulling out a small slip of paper resembling a talisman.

“Here,” she states, pushing the paper into your hand. You come to realize that it’s a coupon for a free meal. As if feeling your confusion, your interviewer laughs lightly, a stark contrast to her cold persona mere moments prior. “For your troubles and a testament to your good luck in the future.”

You can’t help but stare at the coupon when you exit the building. It’s got a cute little design in the corner reminiscent of the badgers back in your home province and the black characters seemed to be hand-inked with love and care. You smile down at it, running your hand across the dried ink before pocketing the slip.

The sky is darkened slightly by the time you reach the entrance of the school. Towering whipwillow trees arch into a beautiful gate connected to an even larger tree that serves as the base of the school. It’s difficult not to admire such a work of art, cultivated through years of dedication to the act of magic.

However, every beauty comes with its own mars.

Holes and burn marks litter the tree from the Noxian invasion a few years back. Though most had been repurposed into open classrooms, they still serve as a reminder of the past and a sign to all that all that was once broken can be crafted into something beautiful.

In your moment of admiration towards the school, you nearly miss your son scurry past you, eager to go home and hole himself away in his room away from you. Luckily, you’re quick to catch him, much to his disdain. He shakes your hand off his arm, and you smile lovingly at him despite the added weight to your already heavy heart.

“I heard you were doing well in your classes. Why don’t we celebrate with a meal? I know a place you may like.” That was wrong, you didn’t even know if the teahouse was safe to bring a child. Regardless, your proposition was met with nothing but cold silence, causing your smile to falter slightly. Swallowing your pain, you guide your son through the active streets of Navori, sticking to well-lit streets and occasionally asking stall owners for directions while simultaneously purchasing ingredients for later with the little money you have on you.

Eventually, you and your son find yourself in front of a quaint teahouse, the same little badger etched into the sign above the entrance. When you push open the flaps, you’re immediately welcomed by a warm aura and the scent of fresh food.

A Vastayan woman is quick to greet you. Her ears seem naturally downcast, her lilac hair mostly held back by a band on her lower back, though a small portion is held together by twine next to her face.

“Welcome,” she greets, showing off her fanged smile that exudes the same homely aura as the rest of the establishment. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, are you new to Navori?” She guides both you and your son to the front, and it’s then you realize that the teahouse is practically empty. Guilt begins to seep in at the thought of catching this woman right before closing.

“Huh? Oh, yes, we just moved recently.” Your answer elicits a soft hum from the woman as she pours you and your son cups of tea.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself then.” After she places the cups down, she brings one of her clawed hands to her chest, “I am Ginora, owner of this little teahouse.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ginora. Ah, where are my manners? I’m [Name], and this is my son, Kuon.” You place your hand proudly on your son’s shoulder, only to have him shrug it off with a grumble. You’re quick to hide your wince with a strained smile as the two of you take the menus from the kind restaurant owner.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she smiles before perking up when she sees you struggling to choose something. “Would you like some recommendations?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Ginora is kind; the type of woman you wish was your mother as well as the type of mother you hope you are to your son. She’s patient in the way she guides your son through the menu, who’s reluctantly polite to seemingly everyone but you.

“This is my son’s favorite.” She points to steamed pork buns on your son’s menu. Something in your brain clicks; it make sense that she’s a mother with her infinite patience and calming presence

Zagreus [856]

“What was he like?” Melinoë’s soft voice draws your attention away from the cauldron. It simmers quietly as you turn to look at her, the light of the eternal flame illuminating her already ethereal face.

You blink dumbly for a moment, trying to process her question ever so slowly. Hecate’s laugh rumbles a few meters away, and you cast your questioning glance to the elder witch. She merely raises her hands in defense, returning to the new scroll she’d scouted out along her many travels. Right.

“My brother,” she finally clarifies after a beat of silence and one-sided communication between you and the headmistress. “What was Zagreus like?”

This wasn’t the first she’s asked about your husband, but it’s the first time you actually feel ready to share his memory.

“He’s…” you pause for a moment, “he’s exactly how the tales regale.” A fondness glitters in your eyes as you step away from the cauldron, beckoning the younger spawn of Hades towards a table at the lounge. The shades are happy to serve you, offering only the nicest nectar provided by none other than Charon himself.

You take a sip, savoring the soothing taste of the golden liquid. Melinoë does the same, her eyes never once straying from your content expression.

“Zagreus was—is the oddest man to ever grace the Underworld.” Your chuckle is melancholic as you meet your sister-in-law’s two-toned gaze. Her eyes are the same shade of forest green and vermillion, though switched on opposing eyes. Unlike her brother’s carefree ones, they’re heavy, weighed down by a burden that should never be held by one person alone. God or otherwise.

Yet, even then, she holds the same stubborn determination the rest of her family seems to have, and you’d be damned not to help her in her goal.

“Have I ever told you how we met?” A swig of nectar forces down the bitter loneliness built over the century without the presence of your husband.

The younger goddess shakes her head and you chuckle, downing the rest of your drink with a small smile.

“Well…”

—

Filling in for Hermes as a messenger was not often a responsibility placed on your shoulders, but when the speedy god pled to you to make this one, itty-bitty delivery, you couldn’t say no.

He leaves you in one of Elysium’s vast fields with a pouch of…something and instructions to do nothing but “wait until he appears”.

“Who?” You quirk a brow, unamused by your friend’s vagueness.

Hermes only grins with an equally ominous: “You’ll know when you see him.” He readies himself to part, only to turn back to you one final time. “Oh! And if he asks, tell ‘em I was busy running an errand for the big boss, he’ll understand. Now, I know this is sudden and I swear on my life I’ll pay you back later, but looks like I’ve got to run! Take care of him, yeah?” All you feel is a gust of wind and the grass billowing at your legs before no trace of the messenger god is left behind.

Blast these gods and their stupid mind games.

Would it have killed him to at least give you a name?

You grumble obscenities that would have the most profane god fainting, kicking at the soft grass as you continue to wait idly. A few spirits of notable figures cross your path. They bow respectfully as they pass by you, unable to withhold their awe at the sight of your ethereal form.

“Thank the gods. Finally, some peace! Now, where is it…” A sudden voice cuts through your conversation with one of the shades. The owner ambles closer, huffing out a breath of relief as he sheathes his sword. The scent of ash reaches you before he does, and your nose twitches. There was a reason why you rarely ever ventured to the lower depths.

The man—the godling—stares. And stares. And stares…His pretty, heterochromatic gaze blinking slowly in confusion while his hand finds its way back to the hilt of his sword once again.

“You’re not Hermes.”

That much is obvious.

Burning grass follows every step he takes, and it doesn’t take long for the blade to be pressed against the column of your neck. “You’re another blasted witch,” he seethes, contempt clear in the way the blade pierces through your skin, drawing only the smallest inkling of divine blood. Again, another obvious point. Where in Olympus was he going with this line of thought?

Suddenly, all the pieces come together and you want to smite Hermes all the more.

Before you was the Zagreus, the notorious spawn of Hades whose presence has rippled throughout Olympus’ upper echelon due to his persistent climb to the surface. You’d heard of him in passing, though never found much of an interest in Olympus’ latest gossip hub.

There’s an awkward beat of silence before you recall Hermes’ request. It’s difficult trying to locate the pouch in your bag with the prince’s sword still pressed into your neck, but you do eventually manage, holding out the brown pouch as a peace offering in place of your neck

Genji Shimada [1.5K]

One of the first things he felt when he opened his eyes was anger. A red-hot inferno that scorched his core from the inside out. Next came the numbness in his limbs that once seared with an incomprehensible pain as they were cut down by his brother’s blade.

His brother.

The thought alone was enough to send him into another fit of anger, though unable to move due to his current predicament. He settles for glaring at the blindingly stark white wall of the unfamiliar room. It hurts to breathe—hurts to think. He tries to close his eyes in an attempt to find a semblance of peace in the darkness behind his eyelids.

However, just as he does so, the door leading to the hallway slides open.

“I see that you’re awake, how are you feeling?”

He opens his eyes slowly, glare landing on a blonde woman who merely tilts her head questioningly. He can barely process her words, his mind slowly translating it to his mother tongue. He never was the best at English.

The slow blinks he sends her are enough to have the doctor clicking her tongue as she taps away at the holographic computer. A file pops up between the two. It’s his. It lists his name, age, birthplace, and even what schools he went to. Yet, what perturbed him was the picture associated with his file.

In essence, yes, it was him, there was no doubt.

But, something felt off. Like it wasn’t really him anymore.

As if feeling his stare, the blonde woman tears her gaze away from the screen. Pushing up her glasses, she minimizes the holographic screen before making her way over to his side, a bottle of water in hand.

“You seem thirsty, please, drink up.” She slowly tilts the water bottle past his parted lips. He accepts greedily, allowing the soothing liquid to quench his thirst.

“Angela Ziegler,” she starts, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips while she caps the water bottle. His look of confusion causes her to let out a small chuckle. “My name,” she clarifies.

The woman, Angela, returns to her swivel chair across the room, tapping through the seemingly unending files before landing on one in particular. “You’ve caused quite some trouble, Mr. Shimada.” Her hand cups her chin gently, glasses reflecting the bright blue light from the monitor.

“You’re quite fortunate that one of our agents found you when she did. Had she not…well you can guess what would have happened.”

Of course he does. He wasn’t exactly expecting to wake up.

The door slides open once again, revealing an injured soldier clutching at her arm with a grimace tugging harshly on her lips.

“Speak of the devil,” Angela murmurs with an amused huff. The soldier—you—raises a questioning brow at your trusted friend. She merely shrugs her shoulders, tilting her head slightly to the injured man on the hospital bed.

“Shit…I didn’t know you moved him in here.” You sound embarrassed, unwanting to meet the ninja’s harsh glare. Angela makes her way over to you with an odd-looking staff and a medkit, her lips are pulled into a smile, but you can see the concern swimming in her deep gaze. Genji watches from his place on the bed.

The blonde takes your arm, uncaring of the blood that cakes her hand after. She tells you to raise it and you wince.

“What happened,” her once veiled concern is now bleeding through her tone. Your expression pinches further at her prodding.

“Operation went south and Reyes sent me to you.”

She hums in understanding, already inspecting the wound, “But you have Dr. O'Deorain on standby, no?”

You click your tongue, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head whilst she tightens the bandage. You hiss harshly, glare boring holes into Angela’s head, yet she remains unaffected. “I don’t trust her,” you snip curtly as if any mention of the redhead burns your tongue.

In a way, it did, that much Angela knew, which is why she never sends you away when you came to her.

“Oh, I have another reason for stopping by, too.”

This gets the doctor’s attention, causing her to look up from your arm with a raised brow.

“It’s a deal from Morrison and Reyes themselves regarding our little friend over there,” your chin jerks over to the bed-ridden Shimada. Your gaze is pitying as it drifts between his missing calves and arm. He does not take kindly to your blatant patronization, instead, his glare increases tenfold.

“Well, out with it.” Angela snaps your focus back onto her. Her foot taps rhythmically whilst she scrubs her hands clean at a nearby sink.

“They want him in Blackwatch. Says he’d be a good help for taking down the Shimada clan—”

“Have they seen him? Do they know he’s missing limbs? That he’s barely alive?” Her sudden outburst was to be expected, yet you remain unflinching under the scrutiny of her narrowed eyes. Her jaw is clenched, seemingly out of character in comparison to her usual persona.

With a clenched jaw, you attempt to move your arm, leaving her questions to hang tensely in the air. It hurts a lot, but you still continue to move it nonetheless. Angela grips your forearm harshly, stilling it, “Stop that, you’ll only hurt it more.”

The warning has you sighing, finally relieving your arm of its strain by allowing it to fall limply at your side.

“Cybernization.” Your voice was quiet and would have most likely been drowned out had the heart monitor been any louder. You knew Angela would disagree with this. Turning a man into a weapon wasn’t exactly humane, after all.

“What?”

“They want to turn him into a cyborg. Uh, with his consent, of course.” Your reassurance does little to placate her.

As you await her response, she lets out a defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one you need permission from.” Both of your gazes fall onto the silent man, who had yet to say a word since his awakening. Even while weakened and bed-bound, he still retains the ferocity and rage of a scorned man.

A stark contrast to the bleeding man you had found during the raid on the Shimada estate. You recall how his one remaining hand gripped tightly onto your uniform, his delirious gaze swirled with betrayal and rage as he faded in and out of consciousness.

Slowly, you shuffle over to him under Angela’s scrutiny. His eyes—the only part of his body he seems to be able to move freely—remain trained on you, judging each movement you make, from your careful steps to the nearly unnoticeable twitch of your fingers.

“Hello.” It felt like it had been years since you had last spoken Japanese when in reality it had only been a week.

He seems shocked to have his mother tongue fall from your lips, but that fleeting look leaves as quickly as it arrived. While he doesn’t ward you away, he isn’t accepting of your presence beside him.

You smile slightly as you introduce yourself, unbothered by his intense stare. “Do you know where you are, Mr. Shimada?”

He remains silent.

At this rate, your break would end before you’d be able to get any sort of reaction other than a glare. With thinning patience, you huff. First, the successful escape of Hanzo Shimada, and now the lack of response from his brother.

This entire family truly was troublesome.

Always keep a calm head, your mentor’s words echo within your mind.

Breathe in.

“Mr. Shimada,” you start, the previous politeness you once held now replaced by the stern tone you used on duty. Angela clicks her tongue, rubbing her temple as she places her glasses on the desk.

“We,” you motion to yourself and the room around you, “are Overwatch. We want to help you, alright?”

With his anticipated lack of a response, you continue.

Breathe out.

“I’m sure you know of a man by the name of Shimada Hanzo, yes? The assumed head of the Shimada clan?”

This gets a rouse out of him. The withheld rage surfaces. Though unable to move much, his nostrils flare, his lips pulling into an animalistic snarl and nearly tears the delicate stitching done to his face.

“Where is he?” His voice is low, hoarse from lack of use and damaged vocal cords. Your hand clenches at your side under the heat of his feral glare. He sits impatiently, awaiting your response, akin to that of a ticking time bomb. Angela watches you from the corner of her eye, ready to step in should things go south.

“We don’t know,” you shake your head solemnly, “which is why we need your help locating him. Of course, your contributions won’t go unrequited. We will do everything in our power to accommodate to your… situation.”

At long last, his glare falters.

A dry, mirthless laugh falls from his cracked lips. “You speak as though I’ve already accepted your offer.” His head lolls back onto the crumpled sheets and flattened pillow of his hospital bed, defeat and fatigue etched into the creases of his frown. “But, I suppose I have no other choice.”

ISO [1.1K]

2XXX, FLORENCE, ITALY

“Grazie,” you smile kindly at the waiter who brings you your food, taking in the beautiful architecture of the city. It’s a shame that you can’t stay to enjoy the sights, so you do your best to enjoy what little downtime you have.

After your light lunch, you find yourself wandering through the streets, occasionally stopping to window shop, partially to not rouse suspicion, and partially to gaze at the luxuries of the life you had lost long ago. With a shake of your head, you cast those thoughts away, focusing instead on the task at hand.

A small, holographic map emerges from your bracer, marking your location with a white arrow, and the rendezvous point with a blinking red dot. Pushing through the throngs of people would have been a lot easier had you not been barred from using your abilities out in the open. Instead, you find yourself uncomfortably tucked into the corner of a bus with the smell of cigarettes emanating strongly from your seatmate.

Yeah, you’re definitely telling Brim that he can leave going undercover to someone else when you get back to HQ.

It doesn’t take long for your bus to reach your stop, or maybe you simply zoned out. Nevertheless, you quickly exit the bus, excusing yourself as you squeeze past the other passengers. The streets are long, winding, and confusing, but you manage to find yourself before where you need to be.

The Kingdom Corporation building stands out against its surroundings, its walls a sleek white in comparison to the dated and faded hues of the older buildings.

You stare at it a moment, gaze furrowing into a sneer before you turn down a desolate alleyway. You loiter there for a while, swapping between the few selective apps you were allowed to have on your phone and messaging other agents with far more interesting assignments. Only when the sun completely sets and the streetlights flicker to life do you make your move.

Under the cover of darkness, you scale up the wall’s shadow, perching on its tiled roof with practiced ease. The Kingdom building is, as expectedly, far brighter than its neighbors, proudly bolstering its prestige with the illuminated K on the front.

Scouring the building, your eyes land on its unguarded roof. With little effort, you find yourself on it in a blink, the only evidence of your presence being the persistent remnants of shadow that linger at your previous position.

“Get in, and get out. Simple enough,” you murmur to yourself, pulling your hands through the Kingdom labcoat you’d brought along and adjusting the collar.

“Che ci fai qui da solo?” Someone grips your shoulder tightly, spinning you around to face them. You’re met with a masked Kingdom guard who, despite the mask adorned on his face, is clearly irked by your presence. “Sai che non ti è permesso stare qui.”

A moment passes in silence as he studies you. He reaches his hand up to alert his unit but is stopped by a hand gripping his wrist. The guard jolts at the sensation, turning to face the perpetrator only to find…you?

There isn’t much time to think as a fist collides squarely in the center of his abdomen, no doubt at least bruising a few internal organs, and with a strangled cough, he falls limp in your arms. You prop him against a nearby ledge, feeling yourself scowl at the sight before disappearing beneath the crack of the roof’s door in a shadowy wisp. You briskly jump between shadows, painstakingly combing through the building’s floors in order to find the opening you need. Impatience simmers beneath your skin as you traverse yet another long hallway with no leads.

The building’s interior is similar to its exterior, just as bright and empty, if not more so, each hallway seemingly more monotonous than the last. Well, at least the upper levels were. The lower levels, on the other hand, were dark, hidden easily by the corporation’s blinding front.

You reach into your labcoat’s pocket, pulling out a candid shot of your prime suspect–Isabella Romano, one of Kingdom’s up-and-coming scientists as well as one of the lead researchers for the ever-elusive Project Landfall. With a groan of frustration, you find yourself running a hand down your face. However, just as you were about to call it quits and report to Brimstone that the mission was a bust, a soft voice chimes down the hall.

“Bene, bene. Spero di risentirla di nuovo presto.”

Bingo.

Your gaze finds her easily in the group of grunts she’s chosen to surround herself with, blinking behind her and allowing yourself to fall into the group’s collective shadow before anyone could take note of your presence. The ride is silent as the elevator slowly descends, though it is soon broken by the scientist’s phone ringing. She takes a deep breath before picking up, but from your position behind her, it’s difficult to tell who she’s answering to.

“Hello? Yes, this is Isabella,” she replies in English. “Yes, Project Landfall has been progressing smoothly on our end, but our location is less than ideal, unfortunately. Yes, I am aware of the, ah, incident in Norway, but I promise that this will not end up the same. No, we’re still working on preparations, but I will update you as soon as we’re ready to commence opening the portal. Thank you for your time, ma’am, we’ll be sure not to disappoint.” The elevator doors slide open just as Isabella hangs up, revealing a linear metal corridor with almost nowhere for you to hide.

You cling to the shadow of every crevice, tailing the unsuspecting group silently. The corridor isn’t very long, luckily, stopping at another set of metal doors that slide open with a metallic whirr. The room itself is very spacious, with at least fifteen monitors lined neatly against the furthest wall, where a group of at least four people hover around, speaking in hushed whispers while observing something you couldn’t see.

You slip between them, becoming tangible for only a moment and grabbing the first manila folder you could find as you duck behind a supply crate. Your fingers are quick to comb through the files, thumbing through the multitude of useless reports before stopping at a sealed-away section with nothing but the Kingdom logo printed on the front. Footsteps near your hiding place, each step echoing louder than the ringing in your ears.

Then they’re gone.

Fuck it, you decide after a moment’s hesitation.

Tearing off the seal, you’re greeted by manuscripts of all languages pertaining to Project Landfall, just as you’d anticipated. Even the recent radivore encounter at the abandoned Norweigan facility had been documented.

You had to give it to them, these people were nothing if not punctual.

Yasuo [1.5K]

It’s quiet; way too quiet.

Something’s off, you can feel it, but your hand quivers around the handle of your blade, unable to unsheath it. You hear your own heartbeat pound in your ears–a daunting reminder that you’re alone, at least, you hope you are.

The bush nearby rustles–the wind, you reason. A twig snaps in the distance–wildlife, you bargain with your crumbling resolve. Footsteps echo through the underbrush of the forest, growing closer before stopping before you.

By now, your eyes are shut tight, blade long abandoned at your side in favor of protecting your head with your arms.

“A Vastaya?” You hear the person mumble to themself before sighing in what seems to be relief. The sheathing of a blade reaches your ears. Slowly, you gingerly open your tear-rimmed eyes to take a look at the stranger.

He’s looking away, mumbling to himself while he combs a hand through his long, tousled hair. You take the chance to examine his figure. He bares a shoulder pad that seems like it would be more of a hindrance than a help, and his cloak is ripped, exposing his scarred, yet admittedly toned midriff.

You force your gaze to his face, watching as he strokes his five-o’clock shadow between his thumb and forefinger with a pinched brow. There’s a scar across his nose, though it doesn’t make him any less attractive. You ponder on how he got it. A fight? An accident, maybe?

He meets your stare, offering a small grin while raising his hands in the air. “I won’t hurt you,” he starts quietly as if you’d run if he spoke any louder, “promise.” When you don’t flee, he slowly lowers one of his hands to point to himself, taking note of the way you tense, your eyes falling to his sheathed blade.

“I am Yasuo. I mean you no harm, truly.” Though his words seem genuine, you can’t seem to shake the wariness gnawing at your gut.

“Why are you here?” Your voice quivers, hand reaching down to the hilt of your blade. Only the clinking of steel clashing with steel is heard before you land pathetically on your back–vulnerable and unarmed. Your sword lands near Yasuo’s feet with a dramatic thud.

Silence stretches over the two of you. It’s a tense silence; one that leaves your mouth dry despite your constant swallowing. It’s only when Yasuo sheathes his sword do you allow yourself to breathe again.

“I take it you aren’t one for visitors?” His half-joke is met with no answer, even as he begins to awkwardly chuckle to himself. He sighs for what seems to be the nth time in the span of twenty minutes.

He parts his lips to speak, running his tongue along the chapped skin as he tries to find the right words. “Look,” he starts, “I just need a place to rest for a week at most. Then I’ll be out of your hair, I swear.”

“A week?”

“A week.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh, weighing to pros and cons of bringing a stranger–a human, no less–to your home. Your mind begins to spin tales of all the horrid things that could happen if you were to take him in, followed by even more outlandish solutions.

All the while, Yasuo patiently waits, watching how your inhuman ears twitch and fold with every new thought that pops into your mind. When it appears that you’ve finally come to a consensus, he stands a little straighter, forcing down that small bout of anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

“A week,” you say with a resolution that shocks even you, “but no more.”

He offers a grateful smile, handing you your fallen sword before mindlessly following behind you as you begin the trek home.

“I never did catch it. Your name, I mean.” He brushes away a touchy branch with a small scowl, eyes glancing up to meet your hesitant pout. You opt to give him your name–to make it easier for the both of you, you reason.

He says your name, the syllables falling from his silver tongue like a beautiful melody. It sounds nice–hearing your name from the lips of someone after all these years of solitude.

“Yasuo.” His name slips from your tongue before you even have the chance of thinking to stop it. The said man turns to look at you, tilting his head slightly in a silent question.

“Forgive me,” you look away bashfully, “I’m not quite sure what came over me.”

Yasuo hums, leaving the rest of the trek to bask in a silence far more comfortable to the one prior.

—

By no means would you describe your home as grand or lavish. It was a quaint cottage with all the essentials and a flourishing garden around the back. Your companion lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed with what you had to offer.

“...Only a week, right?”

He nods, not once looking in your direction in favor of taking in the view of your house, “Only a week.”

You usher him inside, that last thread of tethered hesitance dissipating when he places his blade by the door.

You breathe a sigh of relief, placing your own blade by his to ward off any of his suspicions. By the time you enter the foyer, he’s sitting stiffly on your couch, eyes unfocused whilst he tries to take up as little room as possible.

“You can relax.” You don’t wait to see his reaction, moving to busy yourself in the kitchen, though your ears do pick up on the small breath he lets out and the creaking of his muscles when he lets his shoulders sag. You wince at the sound. Just how tense was he?

You mindlessly drone through making dinner, taking extra care to make portions big enough for your impromptu guest. You call him into the dining room after setting the table, taking your usual seat while allowing Yasuo to choose his own seat.

He picks a seat across from your own. With one final glance at him, you begin eating your own food, filling the otherwise awkward silence with the scraping of utensils.

Hesitation flickers briefly across the wanderer’s face, and it isn’t until you shoot him a questioning glance does he gingerly place the now-cold food on his tongue. He chews in bites so slow and meticulous that you’re left to wonder if he actually enjoys it or if he’s fighting the urge to spit it out.

“It’s good,” he finally concludes. Your heart feels lighter from the statement, for some odd reason or another.

—

After showering the day’s stress away, it’s safe to say you’re shocked when you find Yasuo laying against the hardwood floor with nothing but a pillow beneath his head and an old blanket draped over his form. His shoulder pad sits forgotten in the corner next to your swords, glinting menacingly beneath the moonlight that peaks through the blinds.

He looks at peace with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling with each steady breath.

“Why are you here?” Tucked into the corner of the couch, you peer over the edge to look at him, voice barely above an inaudible whisper. He hears you, though, because of course, he does.

“I thought we’ve established this already. I just need a place to rest for a bit.”

You sigh, “That’s not what I meant. Why are you here–in this forest? It isn’t exactly hospitable to, uh, humans.” You stumble over your own words, fumbling with the hem of your sleeping gown.

“I’m here because I’m looking for something,” his tone matches your own; hushed and hesitant as if he’s spilling a deep secret to a close friend.

“Looking for something?” You parrot with a curious tilt of your head. He sits up, allowing the blanket to fall and reveal his nude upper half. For the sake of modesty, you focus your gaze on a loose thread on your couch, your ears downturned unconsciously from the embarrassment.

Yasuo watches your movements questioningly, chalking it up to the same fear you had earlier as he stretches his arm behind his head.

“I was…” he trails off, jaw tightening whilst his arms fall limply to his side, landing on the hardwood floors with a dull thud, “I was looking for a way to restore my honor.” His voice cracks at the end of his whispered statement, revealing a sliver of the man beneath his cool and composed bravado.

You hear the self-resentment that seeps deep into his tone–one that you yourself have grown accustomed to. After seeing him in such as disheveled state, you choose not to pry, offering only a soft hum. The silence that befalls the two of you is different than the previous ones.

No awkwardness. No fear. Only serenity.

You fall asleep on the couch that night, feeling far safer than you have in a long time.

–

The first two days pass by without notice. You go about your normal routine, taking care not to take in yet another hopeless wanderer. Yasuo, on the other hand, remains stationed at your humble abode, offering to care for your fauna while you’re out and about. Reluctantly, you agree, handing him a list of dos and don’ts before leaving for the market.

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