#what is it with family members going out of their way to ruin important days for you lol

[sugaruapologist]

[ohtobeleah]

Purgatory // Jack Abbot

Part 2of2

Summary: A patient brought in with the Pittfest mass casualty event experiences a psychosis of some sort. Jack Abbot doesn’t know it, but while he’s elbow deep in saving some guy's bowel…you’re attacked while just trying to help.

Warnings: Jack Abbot x Nurse!reader. Violence against women. Angst/whump.mediocre medical knowledge. Hurt!reader. Established relationship. Age gap marriage. Older male x younger reader. Ambiguous ending.

Word Count: 5.8k

Author Note: Welp, it's great this storyline is finally out of my brain. Please enjoy the hurt/comfort. This took longer than originally expected to finish, so im glad you stuck around for it.

Previous Chapter

At the end of the day, the experience of practising medicine bears little resemblance to the dream. Jack Abbot went into medicine because he wanted to save lives. He went into medicine because he wanted to do good. 

He went into medicine for the rush, the high, for the ride. 

But what he tends to remember at the end of most days are the losses. When he lies awake at night, he replays the pain he caused or failed to cure. The lives he ruined or failed to save. So the experience of practising medicine, for Jack Abbot, that is, rarely resembles the goal. 

The experience is, too often, ass-backwards and upside down. 

And then, somehow, improbably and when you least expect it, the world rights itself again…

“She’s stable,” Two words that keep hope alive in Jack’s heart against all the odds. “For now, but it’s been touch and go, you know how it goes.” It was one of the ICU doctors who spoke to Jack like a colleague and not just another family member. 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Jack replied. He stood firm with his arms crossed over his chest. “An infection?” He frowned, still trying to wrap his head around the idea that you had gotten worse before his very eyes. You were showing all the right signs of recovery. And then you coded…

The ICU, room one, bed one. Arguably, the most important room in the entire hospital. Reserved for critical patients on the brink. The touch and goes. 

“SSI’s just sprint.” Your primary physician spoke as he shrugged his shoulders, mimicking Jack’s stance and body language as the pair watched you with an intensity that would have made anyone uncomfortable. “I’m optimistic, she’s healthy, young,” Jack caught the way that word fell from his colleague’s mouth. It had always been a topic of conversation around the hospital. The age gap between the two of you. It was no secret that Jack was nineteen years your senior. 

“She thinks you’re an arrogant son of a bitch, you know?” Jack wasn’t shy about the way he said it. He wanted Adam to know what you thought of him, even if he played a helping hand in saving your life. Because in reality? Regardless f he was a great doctor, he was still a fucking prick or a thing. 

“All I’m saying is, she was healthy before she was injured, she’s strong, has good odds even given the current circumstances.” You occupied the space like a ghost haunting an old, decrepit house with a tragic story just for the history books. “When she wakes up, she can tell me to my face.” 

“I put in a transfer to work nights here for a while.” The ICU had its own rules and regulations around visitors. How many, what times, how long, ect ect. Jack wasn’t willing to play the game the way he was being told…He just wanted to be next to you. 

“That so?” Jack’s colleague, Adam, raised his eyebrows in a shocked expression. “You know, even if you’re on shift and she takes a turn, you can’t–” 

“I know, I know,” Jack sighed. He was sick of being told he couldn’t help you. It was killing him. He had all these skills, all this knowledge and ability…Yet it was all worth shit when it came to you. “If one more person tells me that.” 

“My little girl was in here a few months ago,” Adam explained, hoping to give Jack some comfort in the back seat he found himself in. “It’s hard to relinquish trust in others when it comes to our family members, at the end of the day, yes, she’s your wife,” Adam emphasised the wife part, just to remind Jack that you weren’t dead yet and that you were still very much his wife. “But I gotta tell you, brother, she’s the most important person in my case load, I won’t let you, or her, down,” Adam was firm. He was stern. “Work down here as long as you need to, but I got her, only reason she’s here is because that damn SSI just went sleeper agent until it was ready to erupt.” 

Jack acknowledged his colleague’s words with a tight-lipped nod before he made his way over to your bedside, pulling out the chair he’s spent hours in already. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jack’s entire demeanour changed when he was with you; everyone saw it. Adam just watched on silently as Jack held your hand between his, whispering sweet nothings like prayers to a god he didn’t believe in. “It’s been too long, I need you here, I don’t know how to…” The pause, the weighted silence that filled the room. It was heavier than Jack expected. “I don’t know how to do this without you, I need you to wake up, I’m not asking, I’m not giving you anymore time here, stop being a stubborn–” 

“Woah–” Robby interrupted from the doorway. Jack didn’t even need to turn around to recognise his best friend’s voice. “I wouldn’t wanna wake up if you were talkin to me like that,” He faked insult with raised eyebrows and a small sigh. His hands held his stethoscope on either side as he walked in. Adam made his way out, there were far too many people in your room for his liking. “How’s my favourite drama queen doing today?” 

“She’s stable,” Jack relayed what Adam had told him. “For now.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about Y/n,” Robby snickered to himself as he placed a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder. “How are you, brother? Talk to me.” 

“It just feels like…” Jack sighed to himself as he tried to think of the perfect word to describe what he was feeling. All the emotions. All the built-up regret. The trauma. The sleepless nights and empty stomach. The constant nausea from worry. This wasn’t who he was. 

But it was the effect you had on him. He loved you more than he loved himself, and that was clear to everyone around Jack Abbot. 

“...Purgatory.” Jack settled on a word. A complete sentence. One word to describe all the pain, the heartbreak, the sorrow. 

Robby nodded with tight lips as he checked over your monitors. Again, all signs were pointing in the right direction. But he’d said the same thing before you coded. He was confident in you that you'd pull through with no further complications or deficits. He didn't venture down to the ICU often, not since Covid at least. But you were family. 

“I can't lose her.” 

“I don’t think she’s letting you off the hook that easily,” Robby chuckled softly. You were like a sister to him. An annoying extension of Jack Abbot himself. “Go home, get some rest, you have to start taking more care of yourself. I’ll sit with her for a while and call if anything changes.” 

“She coded when I took a shower, I'm not going anywhere,” Jack argued. His demeanour hardened within the blink of an eye. “I'll sit with her until my shift starts.” 

Robby knew it was pointless to argue, but it was six thirty in the fucking morning and it was too early to have a headache. So he conceded to Jack's stubborn desire to remain by your side. Robby knew if it were him in Jack's shoes, he’d be losing it too. 

“Fine, page me if you need something. Can I tell the crew you’re in the building so that if you’re needed?” 

“Always,” Jack replied. His intense gaze never left you. He was hoping if he made up uncomfortable enough that you’d wake up and tell him to fuck off. 

Much to his own dismay, you didn't. Instead of counting sheep like a normal person, Jack knew that the little sleep he’d get the next time his eyes closed, he’d be counting worst-case scenarios without you to calm his mind and ease his nerves. 

—--------------------------------------------

“Ignore him. He had a rough night and is having an ongoing existential crisis.” Robby teases, but not really. The statement is true. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there soon enough,” Jack replied. He’d had enough. Even a workaholic needs a break from time to time. All things considered, Jack was well overdue. “Jesus fucking christ, get me outta here.” He looked up to the heavens above, well, the fluorescent lights at least. 

“He doesn’t answer whenever I call,” You sighed as you came round the corner of the nurse’s station, deciding to plant yourself with a thud on the chair Jack was originally leaning over. “So if he answers, I know he’s playing fucking favorites.” 

“What’s up with you?” Jack frowned. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like hours. It probably had been hours, but the Emergency Room felt like an endless pit of disappear on its good days. Time was only relevant in the concept of saving lives, not society’s standards. 

“That arrogant son of a bitch from ICU was called down to consult, tried to hit me up for my number again.” You grumbled as you rummaged through all your pockets, emptying the bits and bobs you’d collected throughout your shift. “He knows we’re married, right?” You finally looked up to where Jack had been standing with his arms now crossed over his chest. 

“It’s probably the only thing known about me around here,” Jack replied as you let your head hang back, exposing your neck in a way that shouldn’t have made Jack’s heart race…but it did. You were his wife at the end of the day. And he was at the very core of it all…

Just a guy who loved his wife. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” You groaned. Jack watched as you cupped your face and let out an exaggerated sigh into your palms. “Men, I hope I never end up as one of his patients.” 

“You and me both, slugger, need me to have a chat with him?’ Jack asked with a genuine concern in his voice. “Just say the word and–” 

You panicked at the very thought, Jack could tell as you shot up and uncovered your face.

“No, thank you.” You smiled softly. “I don’t want someone going missing, or worse.” You gave Jack a look he recognised immediately. A few months ago, there had been an incident involving a scalpel, your husband and one of the male nurses from the renal ward. 

“I keep a knife in my pocket.” Jack joked, sending you a wink. But there was a small part of him that wasn’t joking. He’d kill whoever he had to if they were putting you in an awkward position. 

“I’m good, down boy.” Your smile was as infectious, the best kind of medicine. Jack smiled, nodding in agreement. 

He remembered his reason to keep coming back. Not that he truly ever forgot. The wedding band wrapped around his left ring finger was a permanent fixture. 

“Before we get too far away, everyone!” Robby’s voice sounded off in earshot of where Jack stood. He was getting closer. “I’d like to introduce you all to Y/n.” 

“Uh, hi?” You waved slightly, still sitting on the spinning chair you had crashed into before. Jack knew it was probably the first time you’d sat down all shift. 

“This is Dr. Jack Abbot,” Once again, Robby introduced his best friend, but this time to all the new residents. Not just Mel. “Y/n here is gonna be your best friend in the Pitt.”   

“Oh, for the love of—“ 

Jack smirked as he interrupted you, “He doesn’t call either.” He swore that if you had rolled your eyes any harder at him, you would have fallen over. 

“Treat her with respect and she’ll make your shift as smooth as possible,” Robby explained. He respected you way too much for him not to pass that onto his students. “Disrespect her? And you're automatically out of here, end of story.” 

“I thought Dana was the charge nurse?” Dr. Santos asked. Jack frowned slightly at her question. But she wasn’t wrong. It was just her delivery. 

“Yeah,” Robby caught the look on Jack’s face. “But she isn’t married to Dr. Abbot here, and there’s a reason he works nights.”

“He bites.” You teased quickly with a smirk at the new residents. Jack was quick to correct your statement. 

“I don’t bite.” It was like a drug to him. The banter. The flirtatious love that radiated off the two of you. Jack loved you with everything he was. “What is your problem?” 

Jack saw that you went to respond. He saw that look in your eye. That inappropriate look. That look that told him you were about to say something completely out of pocket. Something downright crude. But you didn’t get the chance to before Robby interrupted. 

“Point is!” Robby raised his eyebrows in the way someone would when they narrowly avoid an awkward moment. “She’s important to us, which means she’s important to you guys, and you guys have been warned,” He chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest and swayed his hips side to side casually. “If you’d like to push the boundaries, by all means, have at it, but Dr. Abbot here doesn’t do bullshit.” 

Jack nodded. He admired you with a pride like no other. You were nothing short of a superhero with everything that you did around here. “Our nurses, especially my one, know what they’re doing. Never hesitate to listen to them, especially?” Jack raised his eyebrows, waiting for the residents to finish his sentence. 

“This one,” Everyone croaked out nervously. 

“Well done.” Jack was satisfied. Soon enough, he was turning back to where you sat, now slumped into your chair a little further. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Sighing, you stood. “But seriously, don’t make my life miserable.” It was a tease…but Jack knew you were also quietly begging them not to make your life harder than it needed to be. Sometimes doctors had a tendency to forget just how important and valuable nurses are in the medical field. 

Robby ushered all his ducklings away. Every year, they came through all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tailed not knowing hell awaited them. Jask watched the group walk away until they were out of his peripheral vision. 

“Thank fuck this shift is over, lets get the fuck outta here.” Jack groaned as he tapped you on the shoulder. Giving you a small pep up to get up off the chair. You rose to your feet and met your husband’s gaze. 

There was nothing but mutual admiration in both your eyes. A love that ran deep. A fierce, unconditional understanding that this was it for both of you. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

—---------------------------------

Humans like to think that they’re rational beings. Humane. Conscientious. Civilised. Thoughtful. But when things fall apart, even just a little, it becomes clear. We’re no better than animals. 

We have opposable thumbs. We think. We walk erect. We speak. We dream. But deep down, we’re all still rooting around in the primordial ooze. Biting. Clawing. Scratching out an existence. 

In the cold, dark world, like the rest of the tree toads and sloths. 

“This is your third session. And you still haven’t said anything yet.” The man who sat across from Jack said as he placed his clipboard down. “Now, while I love the quiet time, um…” 

“I read a study that, uh, says that just the, you know, act of going to thearaly is beneficial, even if you don’t say anything. Even if you just sit.” Jack explained as he sat quietly across the small office from his therapist. 

His second therapist. This was work-mandated therapy. Twice a week. Jack wasn’t going to stop working, but he also wasn’t allowed to keep working if he didn’t speak to a professional. 

“So you thought you’d come here and just sit?” His name was Ben. Jack didn’t have a problem with Ben. It was just that Jack already had a pretty good therapist. And he wasn’t the kind of person who just went about telling anyone willing to listen about his problems. “That’s how you’re gonna solve your problems?” 

“I don’t have problems.” Jack didn’t hesitate to correct his work-ordered therapist. He just wanted to get back down to work. But it was Thursday night, which meant Jack Abbot had a forty-five-minute session of mandatory therapy to get through before he could begin his shift. 

“What brings you here?” Ben reiterated. He knew denial like the back of his hand. It's what he did best. Denying the inevitable. That's why he became a grievance guide. Someone to help people transition through death as easily as possible. 

“Look, I’m fine,” Jack sighed as he leaned forward so that his elbows could rest on his knees. He tossed the idea around in his head, the one about telling Ben he wasn’t really sleeping too well. “It’s just–I haven’t been sleeping an awful lot.” 

Ben raised an eyebrow. This was good. This was progress. This was clipboard-worthy. 

The truth of the matter was that Jack hadn't slept a decent amount since your accident. He was working doubles. Doing anything in his power to remain busy. Because if he stopped to think about you for just a second? He wanted to collapse. 

He wanted to die because living in a world without you was something straight out of a horror show. Jack had seen wartime practices. He'd experienced loss to the maximum degree. He never lost his cool in chaos. But you? 

You made him unravel in ways he couldn't begin to explain. Layer by layer, like an onion, you weaselled your way into every fibre of his being. 

“How long have you not been sleeping?” Ben asked casually. This was new. This was the most he had been able to get out of Dr. Abbot in days. He’d been assigned to him as a new patient under the banner of grievance counselling. 

Only Jack wasn’t aware of that as he spoke about his non-existent sleeping routine. 

“You know,” He shrugged. He wasn't about to say it either. “It’s been six weeks and I can’t sleep.” 

“Six weeks since what?” Ben didn’t mean to press too much, but he wanted Jack to keep opening up. It was small steps. But the first step needed to be Jack saying it. Saying why he was here. At grievance counselling. 

That you were dying. There was a high probability that you weren't going to wake up. That's why he was here. Jack had to know that, right? 

Sensing Jack’s hesitation to keep going, Ben interjected with something bordering on professionalism and out-of-scope practices. 

“Look, I work in this hospital. I try not to listen to gossip, but this is a very gossipy place.” Jack hated that his dude worked in the hospital too. Whatever happened to work-life balance? Not that he had a balance of any sort. But seeing a therapist in the hospital where your wife is in a coma, in which you also work, seems like a lot of sway for the work side. “So there are some things that I’ve heard–” 

“Y/n isn’t the reason I’m here.” Jack interrupted his therapist’s train of thought. You weren't the problem. You could never be a problem. 

“Then what brings you here?” Ben tried again, this time with more intent. He needed Jack to snap out of this delusion he found himself in, one where you were okay and he wasn’t having conversations with your care team about end-of-life care. 

“You know, I gotta go, I have to check in with my patients and see who’s next on the wheel of misfortune.” He didn’t really. But Jack would rather be anywhere else in the world than in this office, with this…guy. 

“Dr. Abbot, if you’d just–!” But it was too late. Jack was making distance down the hall. So much so that instead of ending up in the Emergency Department, he ended up at the double doors to the ICU. 

With his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants, Jack Abbot stared long and hard at the closed, automatic doors. He knew you were right behind them, still off in whatever place you’d gone to that wasn’t here with him. 

Six weeks… 

It had been six agonisingly sleepless weeks of you in this stupid ward. The ICU ward. The ward they make you buzz in for every time. God he hated that shit. Because sometimes there wasn’t someone at the desk to buzz you. 

They stopped allowing Jack from using his credentials to gain access to the ICU when he wasn’t technically working. Another bullshit rule he hated. 

*Buzz*

“ICU, visiting hours are over.” There was no care in the time of voice that came through the speaker. Jack made a note of that. Whoever it was that greeted him, a family member just wanted to visit a loved one in need, needed a crash course in bedside manner. 

“It’s Dr. Abbot.” That was all Jack said into the small microphone on the wall. There was nothing else said on the other end either; the doors simply opened. 

But the bedside manner talk could wait. Everything else in the world could wait. Because once Jack was in the ICU, all that mattered was you. He thrived in emergencies. Jack Abbot was a soul who knew how to remain calm in storms. He knew how to problem-solve and control chaos. 

But it all crumbled when he saw you, his wife, still plugged up to every machine known to man with every bit of lifesaving intervention that could help keep you here with him. 

“I just sat in my third appointment this week without speaking,” Jack says to you like you’re listening to him. He believes it to some extent. “Ben, god, I hate that guy,” He sighs heavily as he sits beside you. Checking every monitor and every stat as he does. 

Normal. Everything’s fucking normal so why are you not waking up? Even the sedation had decreased. 

“What am I even doing here?” Jack frowns. He knows this isn't healthy. “You aren’t waking up, are you?” It’s a question that Jack wants to be wrong about. But he knows that after eight weeks, two before your SSI and six weeks with, your chances were dwindling.

“I miss you so much.” It’s a pained moment, a tight feeling inside his chest. Jack thinks maybe he’s having a heart attack. But it’s just his breaking in a way he’d never experienced before. “You have you, you know, wake up.” There are tears now. Jack swears he doesn’t remember when he started crying. Or when he reached out to move the hair from your face. Or when your hand was wrapped tightly in his. He missed the way you’d squeeze his hand back in times of troubleshooting. “Because all this talk of you maybe…not…is scaring me out of my mind.” 

There’s a little animal in all of us. And maybe that’s something to celebrate. Our animal instinct is what makes us seek comfort. Warmth. A pack to run with. 

We may feel caged. We may feel trapped. But still, as humans, we can all still find ways to feel free. We are each other's keepers. We are the guardians of our humanity. 

Even though there are beasts inside all of us, what sets us apart from animals is that we can think, feel, dream and love…and against all odds, against all instinct, we evolve. 

It was something Jack's actual therapist would tell him from time to time when things felt especially hard. But right now, after watching you slowly fade away from him over the course of eight weeks, Jack had started to believe he was maybe two weeks away from being sent to the pound. 

“I can't have you stuck here like this anymore, you gotta give me something to work with, sweetheart,” Jack begs. He doesn't want to make the call himself. And he also can't bring himself to give up. “You gotta pull through, you don't have a choice here, I'm telling you, and that's it.” 

It's a gentle squeeze that Jack doesn't register at first. 

“Yeah, you heard me, no excuses, no damn choice, wake up.” He speaks casually. His mind hasn't caught up to the sensation of your hand squeezing his back. “Woah—hang on, can you hear me?” 

Jack has never moved faster. He's on his feet in seconds. Standing over you with his pocket pen-light in your eyes, shining it directly at you while he holds your face ever so gently. 

“Sweetheart, it's me, can you follow the light?” You do, but only for a brief moment. “I need Dr. Stevenson NOW!” Jack bellows out as he relays what's happening. “She's waking up!” 

Your eyes are barely open, there's still a tube down your throat. But the hand in yours that's squeezing you back is Jack’s. 

The experience is, too often, ass-backwards and upside down. 

And then, somehow, improbably and when you least expect it, the world rights itself again…

“I've got you,” sweetheart,” Jack cries while he holds your hand. He was afraid, as afraid as he was when he lost his leg, that if he let go, you'd never come back. “I'm right here.” 

——————————————-

The first time you could hear something, outside of the context, you needed to understand the topic of discussion, was  “We’ve done the best that we can given the circumstances.” Conversation with your husband. 

But now, without so much as an explanation. You were seeing Jack hovering over you. A bright flash of white light took over your vision for a few seconds. “Ah, angel of mine.” You thought to yourself as Jack's silhouette came back to the forefront of your vision. 

It felt like a dream at first. Nothing felt real or tangible. It was a space between life and death. A place where nothing could grow, age or learn. It was a space for the hopeful. The already dead. The ones who weren’t ready and the ones who were. 

“Purgatory,” You tried to speak but couldn’t. There was something in your throat that panicked you. 

“It's alright, Y/n, you were intubated, but we’re gonna take it out alright? Just a nice deep exhale for us, okay?” Words. They were all just a bunch of mumbled words. You couldn't tell where they were coming from or who they were coming from. 

But the second that tube was pulled from your throat, everything started to hurt. 

“Y/n? Are you with us, Earth side? Talk to us?”

“Feel,” You tried to speak through coughs and splatters. “Hurt.” 

It wasn't exactly what Jack wanted to hear as he watched everything unfold. His hand never left yours as people worked around him. They were all scared to tell him to leave. 

“You've been in a coma, you were attacked on shift a few weeks back and suffered a pretty nasty head trauma? Do you remember that?” The question was asked without much emotional range, maybe because everyone was focusing on getting you to a more comfortable place. Less tubes, fewer wires.

“Yes—” You tried to speak, but everything hurt. Your head felt like it was about to explode. 

“Do you remember anything afterwards?” 

“Jack?” You cracked out. It was barely audible. But he heard you loud and clear. Like you were singing sweet symphonies just for him. 

“I'm here,” He cooed gently with such a desire, it nearly took the limited breath out of your lungs. “I'm right here, shhh, you're okay, you're doing just fine, sweetheart,” 

It was weird for everyone to see Jack with such a burning endearment for your well-being. No one in their right mind was about to tell that man to leave. Not when he'd been down here every day to some extent. Bossing people around. Brooding. Living in existential crisis mode. 

“Never thought I'd see the day!” Somewhat in the shuffle, someone had called Robby down. He was just getting ready to finish up his shift. But if his favourite person was about to grace him with the gift of consciousness, then he wasn't going anywhere. He was right where he needed and wanted to be. “Y/n, how's it feel to be with the living?” He smiled wildly. 

“Like—” It was a struggle. Everything hurt all at once. It was full-body dullness. An incomprehensible ache. “Arse.” 

Robby just smiled down at you. He was taking in the sight of you. Much like Jack was. Only his eyes conveyed a worry that Jack didn't express. He was worried about the possible deficits. 

"I bet,” Robby replied. “I won't sugarcoat it, you've been in the trenches, my friend, but one day at a time we’re gonna get you back on your feet.” 

“Stats are holding, BP is steady, she might be really tired for the next few days.” Dr. Adam Stevenson added. Jack knew all this. He was a seasoned pro in the art of addressing family members. But it still didn't make it easier to be on the receiving end. 

“Where am I?” You questioned softly. Your eyes were barely open. But Jack still had his hand in yours, and that's all that mattered to him. You were squeezing his hand. “What's—what's going on?” 

“You were hurt pretty bad,” Jack started. It was the way that he got as close to you as he possibly could that broke Robby the most. “You never gave up, though.” He continued through tear-stricken eyes. “And then you got sick, but you still never stopped fighting.” It was like Jack was proud of you, or at least that’s how he sounded. You couldn’t do anything but try and smile up at him. The muscles in your face hurt. Everything fucking hurt. 

“How,” You strained out, one word at a time. It felt like you’d just run a marathon. “Are, you?”

“Me?” Jack frowned as his eyes scanned every inch of you. “You have been fighting for your life for eight weeks, and you’re worried me how I am? Me?” When you simply nodded in response, that’s when Jack broke. He let himself cry. He sobbed like he’d been holding everything in. It was like Jack Abbot had taken his first breath in eight long, agonising weeks. “I thought I was gonna lose you.” 

“Hey,” Robby gestured with his chin at Dr. Stevenson, “Let’s give them some space, she’s stable.” He didn’t respond, but he left the room with Robby following right behind. They both stayed close by, unable to take their eyes off your monitors. 

“You were just…gone.” Jack cried as he laid his head next to your torso. Your hand was resting on his cheek, gently caressing his scruff-covered chin. “You just left, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get you back.” 

“Why would you lose me?” Jack barely caught it. He thought maybe you were just paying yourself some credit for making it out the other side. But as he looked up at you through teary eyes, he saw it. The split-second seizure. 

“Robby?” Jack called out as he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head. It was only for a brief second, but it still happened. “She's having seizures.” 

“Page neuro, get someone down here,” Adam shouted as he stepped back into the room. Robby was hot on his tail. 

“Where am I?” You asked softly. It broke Jake's heart to see the confusion in your eyes. The pain. The hurt. “Jack?” 

“Where’d you go, sweetheart?” Jack cooed as he ran the pad of his thumb across your chin. “You're good, I've got you.” 

“She's probably experiencing some form of post-traumatic memory loss,” Robby suggested as he observed you. “I'd like to think it's not a permanent thing we’re looking at, but for now, I think we'll run some tests and wait and see what the next few hours bring.”

“We don’t have time to just sit around a fucking wait!” Jack finally cracked. Everyone had been waiting for it for weeks now. They knew he was walking a fine line between keeping his composure and fully losing it on the next person who said something remotely dumb. It was like a full-on out-of-body experience. Anger that knew no bounds. “Jesus fucking christ, am I losing my goddamn mind here? Or did she just forget everything that happened in the last ten minutes?” 

“Something to be expected,” Robby reminded the emergency physician who saw injuries, much like yours, every day. “It's something we prepared for, so it's something we can, hopefully, overcome.” 

“I remember you.” Was all you had to say for Jack to be back inside his own body. The anger had diminished to near nothing. It had been replaced by pure, unconditional love. “I also remember he doesn't answer.” You were just resting your eyes a little. Your eyelids felt like cement blinds. But you knew Jack was smiling. 

“Oh, he answered me today,” He sighed as he leaned in to kiss your cheeks as softly as he could. “Finally, someone up there got the call.” 

“No fucking way,” You mumbled back. Robby had pushed a small amount of pain relief to help keep you comfortable as Jack settled in. He wasn't working tonight. Or tomorrow night, or any other night until he knew you were truly okay. He just got you back. Like hell was he leaving your side. 

“I'd even deem this a miracle,” Robby added. “Besides, this guy's been public enemy number one since you coded in the Emergency Room, so it's nice to have you back to keep him from, you know,” He suggested what all three of you knew. 

“Who are you? Dr. Rabinovitch?” You sighed heavily as you settled. Still holding Jack's hand. He wasn't letting go. Neither were you. 

“Very funny,” Robby smirked, crossing his arms as he did so. “I'll leave the two of you here, but I'll be back with Neuro.” 

Jack never once took his eyes off you. His gaze was all-consuming. It was the eye contact he desperately craved. 

As you looked up at him, Jack's eyes again filled with tears. You were back. You were alive. You were here with him. 

“You've been everyone's issue while I've been gone?” You asked gently in your drug-induced lavender haze. “Haven't you, Abbot?” 

Jack smiled back at you. Counting his lucky stars. Jack knew you’d find out eventually. But he thought, why not give in to you a little? So, without much probing needed. Jack settled into his chair. He pulled up his cargo pants and undid the suction on his prosthetic leg. The titanium limb laid awkwardly on the floor beside him. But this was as comfortable as Jack Abbot was going to get. 

“You don't even know the half of it, sweetheart.” 

And with you by his side? He didn't mind it one little bit.

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

[hazzashouse]

Through the Darkness (Harry Styles one shot)

This topic is incredibly important to me. If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, please know you don’t have to go through it alone. Reach out to someone you trust—a friend, a family member, or a professional. You are not alone, and you are loved. There is strength in asking for support, and there are people who want to be there for you. You are never alone.

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Triggers: Depression, anxiety, emotional distress, mentions of isolation, self-doubt, and heavy themes of mental health struggles. Please read with care.

The world outside your apartment window was cold and colorless, mirroring the ache in your chest. Days blurred into nights, the sun rising and setting without your notice. It had been weeks since you last stepped outside for more than a grocery run. Even then, the strain of smiling at the cashier left you drained for days.

The depression you thought you’d left behind had returned, a familiar weight pressing against your chest, heavy and relentless. It was worse this time because it felt like failure. You’d been doing so well—hadn’t you? Harry had told you how proud he was. Your friends had said you seemed lighter. And now, here you were again, feeling like a burden to everyone you loved.

Harry was away on tour, as he always was this time of year. The texts and calls were there, of course. But you hadn’t told him. You couldn’t. His life was busy, full of flashing lights and cheering crowds, and you couldn’t bear to drag him into the shadows with you. He didn’t need that—not when he was living his dream.

So you suffered in silence, telling yourself you’d find your way out. Except, you didn’t.

Your best friend, Emily, was the first to notice. She’d stopped by unexpectedly, armed with a smile and coffee. You hadn’t answered her texts for days, and she’d decided to check in. When you opened the door, she froze, her face dropping.

“Hey…” she said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “What’s going on, babe?”

You didn’t have the energy to lie.

Emily took one look at the unwashed dishes, the unopened curtains, and the dark circles under your eyes and immediately understood. She’d seen this before.

“Oh, love,” she murmured, pulling you into a hug. The warmth of her arms broke something inside you, and the tears you’d been holding back spilled over.

Emily didn’t leave that night. She made you tea, coaxed you into eating something, and stayed until you fell asleep. The next morning, she tried to talk to you about reaching out to Harry.

“He’ll want to know,” she said gently. “He loves you. You know he’d drop everything.”

But you shook your head. “I don’t want to ruin his tour. He’s happy.”

Emily sighed but didn’t push. Instead, when you weren’t looking, she sent Harry a message herself:

Hey, I know you’re busy, but she’s struggling again. She didn’t want me to tell you, but I think you should know. Call me when you can.

Harry didn’t see the text until hours later. His phone had been in the dressing room while he performed to a sold-out crowd. When the show ended and he finally unlocked it, Emily’s message was waiting.

He read it twice before his heart sank.

————————

Harry’s decision to leave wasn’t even a question. His team tried to reason with him, suggesting he finish the next two shows before taking a break, but he shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly. “She needs me. She’s more important than any of this.”

————————

The sound of a key in the lock woke you from a restless sleep. You sat up, your heart pounding as the door creaked open. When Harry’s familiar figure appeared, relief and guilt warred inside you.

“Harry?” Your voice cracked.

He didn’t say anything at first, just crossed the room in a few strides and pulled you into his arms. His chest rose and fell against yours, and you realized he was trembling.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m here.”

You didn’t mean to cry, but his presence—his warmth, his steady heartbeat—was the comfort you hadn’t known you needed.

Harry didn’t try to fix you. He knew better than that. Instead, he stayed close, quietly reminding you of his love in the small ways that mattered most.

He opened the curtains one morning and sat with you on the couch, not saying a word as you watched the sunlight pour in.

He ran a bath for you, adding your favorite lavender oil, and sat outside the door in case you needed him.

He cooked meals you didn’t have the energy to eat but never made you feel guilty for it.

On the hardest days, when leaving the bed felt impossible, he stayed with you, holding your hand as if anchoring you to the world.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he told you one night, his voice steady. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it—I’m here.”

Slowly, the darkness began to lift. Harry’s patience, his unwavering support, created space for you to breathe again. He reminded you of the things you loved—the music you used to listen to, the books you hadn’t touched in months, the way your laughter used to fill the room.

It wasn’t easy, and there were setbacks. But with Harry by your side, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d be okay.

One afternoon, as you sat together on the couch, you looked at him and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, his green eyes soft.

“For loving me. For staying.”

Harry smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

And in that moment, you knew it was true.

————————

like and reblog if you liked it and follow me to not miss my future content - I will very much appreciate it! Lots of love, A.

[daycourtofficial]

A Valentine’s Surprise

Summary: a member of the inner circle asks you to be their valentine, despite you being mated to someone else

Author’s note: this is pretty short, but I thought it’d be really cute and I love Nyx

“Excuse me, everyone.”

Everyone at the table stops their chatter as Nyx stands on his chair, his little voice unwaivering as he draws the attention of his family consisting of his parents, Cassian, Azriel, Nesta, Mor, and you.

“I have an announcement.”

You all look on in confusion and curiosity, wondering what the young prince would deem so important. He does this about once a week now - interrupting dinner to declare something to everyone. Last week it was to inform everyone that Cassian had farted next to his face, causing Cassian to argue, “it’s not my fault your face is at bum level.”

The night derailed from there, the warlord getting quite worked up over the accusations of a five year old until the two were wrestling on the floor.

Nyx clears his throat, looking to his mother for approval to continue. Feyre gives him a nod of encouragement, mouthing the words “go on” to him. He takes in a deep breath and says, “I’m in love.”

Feyre smiles at him, clearly aware of where his little speech is going. Rhys perks up, amusement in his eyes at Nyx’s confession. The table falls even more silent in curiosity. The princeling looks to you before continuing, “I love you, (y/n). Will you be my valentine?”

You spit out your wine, and Azriel’s hand that was covertly wrapped around your thigh tightens slightly. You grab your napkin, dabbing at the wine you spilled on your dress. You can’t help the smile on your face at how nervous Nyx looks, and you can’t hold back the grin as he winnows a rose into his hand, holding it out to you.

“Nyx, I’m honored that you would ask me.”

You try to figure out how to let the young prince down without telling everyone of your secret mateship with Azriel. The two of you were keeping your mating bond a secret because you didn’t want to deal with the ordeal it would cause and wanted the peace to navigate it. And then you two just kept delaying mentioning it.

Unfortunately for Nyx, the two of you had plans that evening to celebrate the holiday to hide out in a cabin and you wouldn’t want the little heir to ruin them.

“Why do you want me to be your valentine?”

Nyx smiles at you, “because I get all warm and fuzzy inside when I see you.”

Your face crumpled at his sweet words, his love for you showing in his toothy grin, a few teeth missing from his smile. The adorable spectacle makes you miss Cassian grumbling, “why doesn’t anyone ask me to be their valentine?”

“How can I say not to that adorable face?”

Azriel’s grip tightens, and you place your hand on top of his, gently rubbing it. Reminding him that his instincts can calm down over a five year old.

“What does being your valentine entail, sweet Nyx?”

The little boy’s wings flutter at your attention, “we’ll have ice cream!”

“I like ice cream. Is that all?”

He preens under your gaze, looking exactly the way his father does whenever Feyre looks at him affectionately. He leans in conspiratorially, covering his mouth with his hand that does nothing to keep his words from being heard by everyone, before whispering, “you can hold my hand through Velaris.”

“Nyx I wonder if our darling (y/n) has other valentine’s plans.”

Nyx looks to you, heartbreak on his tiny face that the woman he loved would dare see another male. Azriel shoots daggers over your head at his brother, realizing the two of you hadn’t been as secretive as you thought at Rhys’s feline grin. Rhys mocks a toast of his glass towards you two, causing Az’s scowl to deepen.

“Well Nyx, nobody’s asked to take me out for ice cream on Valentine’s day, so I will be more than glad to go with you to get ice cream.”

The little boy beamed the rest of the evening, and as he totted off to bed he was telling his father all about what he was going to wear when you two went out. He even gave you a color scheme so your outfits could coordinate.

You and Azriel retired separately, so as not to raise suspicions. You were brushing your hair at your vanity when his shadows allowed him to emerge in your room, where he immediately began walking towards you.

Meeting your gaze in the mirror, his eyes are full of amusement, thinking about how he has to share the woman he loves, his mate, with a child he could drop kick into the clouds.

“You are stunning, my dear, surely you must have plans for Valentine’s Day?”

He starts kissing your cheek, making his way down your neck, causing you to giggle while you reply, “I have plans with another male for the afternoon on Valentine’s day, but I suppose I could pencil you in while he’s taking his nap.”

[s0s1mple]

By Your Side — Nishimura Riki

Random Prompt:

“You can think of me as like… your unpaid bodyguard.”

Random Member: Ni-ki

TW: general yandere behavior, violence (not towards reader), monopolization

Masterlist

Ni-ki was popular. Not popular in the sense that everyone walked up to him and struck up a conversation like they’d known him forever, but popular in the way that people around him looked at him like he was untouchable. Like he was above them, somehow, mysterious and cool and just a bit too intriguing to ruin the mystery by asking about anything below the surface.

So they didn’t. They crowded around him but never got too close, never ruined the illusion that had them whispering amongst themselves about what the handsome heartthrob was actually like. They had an image in their head and they wanted to maintain it.

In a lot of ways Ni-ki was ok with that. The attention from girls was nice, even if he didn’t really care for their hushed giggles sometimes, and the aloof atmosphere he carried kept him out of touch with guys just a tad too eager to gain some of his appeal.

But that the same time, it got boring. Annoying. Here he was in his own bubble with nobody attempting to genuinely see him. To approach him and learn without hoping to get something out of him, whether status or romance.

But then you transferred in.

You didn’t know about him, didn’t understand the dynamics in their little school. Even when others mentioned him to you, you were more confused than anything as you side-eyed him. And you were friendly, almost overly so, doing your best to make friends with everyone even if they weren’t the most receptive. And really, most of them weren’t. Hierarchies were important here, and you were at the bottom. How dare you try to talk to them, they thought.

But as a side-effect of that you actually talked to him. Plopped down next to him in class, grinned, and waved. Asked about his favorite subjects, his family, his favorite snacks and animals… When he said a puma because others said he reminded them of one, you just giggled and said you thought a duck fitted better.

Ni-ki was smitten. You were a breath of fresh air, a way out of the bubble he found himself in, a change to the monotony. So he flocked to you. Found you whenever he could, talked and listened and, when you were busy talking to someone else less receptive than him to your friendliness, looked over your shoulder. If these people weren’t going to appreciate your earnest efforts, then he was all too happy to send them scurrying at his cold glare.

You eventually figured out his little habit of warding off unsavory people and rounded on him, brows furrowed as you protested. You wanted to make more friends, you said, painfully oblivious to the angry glares you got for being Ni-ki’s favorite. Ni-ki just shrugged, lips curling into a sly smile.

“Aw come on…” He chuckled, leaning down to your level. “You can think of me as like… your unpaid bodyguard!”

He took that label seriously. He followed you around, his mere stare keeping nasty passive aggressive comments at bay. He wrapped himself around you whenever he could, resulting in giggles and squawks of disapproval from you, all to keep those few, few people looking to pursue you away. They didn’t deserve you, after all. His presence constricted, pulling tighter and tighter as greed rose up inside him, the idea of monopolizing your time even more appealing by the day.

And when the girls, finally fed up with you stealing him from them, isolated you and began tearing at your hair behind the gym? Ni-ki was right there, pipe in hand and sneer on his face. Down went one, another trying to take off only to trip and get caught, the third screaming out before they were silenced.

Ni-ki straightened up with a huff, wiping the crimson from his brow, and slid his gaze to your form. So small, so shaky, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. He grinned that usual calm, cool smile that drove the school wild.

“Alright. All taken care of.” He breathed, waltzing over. You flinched back against the wall, cowering the more his shadow covered you. Ni-ki cooed and crouched down to your level, tilting his head. “That must have hurt, right? You tried to be nice to them… shame they didn’t listen.”

“Y-you- they’re-“

“They’re dead. And you’re hurt. We should get you to the nurse, get your scalp checked out.” Ni-ki reached out and groomed a hand through your hair, lips pursed. He clicked his tongue at your flinch, preferring to chalk it up to the pain the girls had inflicted, and gently hauled you to your feet.

“Why?” Your voice was so small. Ni-ki draped an arm around you, pressing you under his arm and reveling in the warmth, the fluttering in his chest.

“Told you I’d protect you, didn’t I?” A nuzzled cheek against the top of your head. “You’re too trusting you know. But don’t worry, I’ll always be here to look after you.”

Glad ppl seem to be enjoying, but I’m sad my Jay piece only has like 5 likes compared to everything else :( promise it’s good too!

[donat-senpai]

Can you please do a platonic Yandere Adrien, Luca with a reader who wants to be in a relationship not with them but like in general, what would they do if they tried to ruin her relationship when she got one and she found out🙏

Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere!

Pairing: Yandere! Adrien x Reader, Yandere! Luka x Reader

tw: platonic obsession, deception, manipulation

Thanks for waiting! I continue to work on fulfilling requests. BUT I have to inform you that I will no longer accept new requests for ladybug. I don't feel inspired by this fandom anymore.

ADRIEN

-The day you confessed your love was the worst day of Adrien's life.

-Your best friend, your closest person, almost a family member suddenly ceased to be important to you.

-You started canceling appointments with Adrien to go on dates with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

-Adrien was so disappointed and angry. But not on you. You will never be to blame. This terrible man has entangled you in order to ruin everything.

-The first thing Adrien wanted to do was use Cataclysm on your boyfriend/girlfriend. It would be easier that way. Faster. But he didn't want to scare you.

-Adrien needed to be cunning.

-He stole tests from the principal's office and planted them in your boyfriend/girlfriend's bag.

-Your school is prestigious. Such an act will not be forgiven.

-The news of the expulsion of this parasite (as Adrien mentally called this person) made you cry. Adrien was very sorry, but he had to do it.

-A little later, you found one of the tests in Adrien's bag when you wanted to get his notes. It fell out and went unnoticed. Until this moment.

-He realized what happened when he saw the disbelief on your face and the damn test in your hand.

-You asked him accusingly what that meant. Adrien ran through ideas in his head in a panic. Classmates came to the noise

-And he came up with…

-They (the pest) must have planted it. They were jealous and wanted to frame Adrien.

-His classmates quickly supported him. (He always knew that his good reputation would come in handy someday)

-How can kind, dear Adrien be capable of such meanness?

-Your mistrust hurt Adrien. How could you doubt your best friend? That person is a bad influence on you. Perhaps you shouldn't date them anymore.

-You felt ashamed

-It’s hard to leave, but your friend is there. He will help you write a goodbye message for them. He'll even send it for you.

-Adrien will free you.

-Your friendship will be safe again.

LUKA

-Three days. For a whole three days, Luka waited and hoped that you pranked him.

-Hope disappeared when you introduced Luka to your boyfriend/girlfriend.

-Luka still didn't understand how this happened. He was always there.

-Your happy face brought joy to Luka endlessly. He allowed this relationship to exist.

-He was ready to endure and listen to conversations about this person as long as it brought you pleasure.

-But the days passed, and you smiled less and less.

-Of course, your new boyfried/girlfriend became the problem.

-Luka began to unobtrusively push you towards breaking up. Why do you need a relationship in which your partner only upsets you?

-The guy’s patience finally ran out when you came in tears and said that you saw Him/She hugging someone else.

-If Luka were not a restrained person, he would have akumatized to take revenge. But you needed comfort.

-For the next couple of days, Couffaine stubbornly thought about getting rid of the obstacle once and for all.

-Your ex gave him the idea himself.

-They persistently tried to contact you. You didn’t want to communicate with him/her and gave Luka your phone so that he could delete the messages. Luka used this against him/her.

-Luka convinced you to block your ex on all social media. And the letter from the mailbox explaining that he/she hugged his cousin was replaced with another one - with threats. It was not difficult to fake the handwriting following the example.

-Photos taken without your knowledge were thrown into your school locker.

-No one could ignore something like this. Your parents finally went to the police.

-Luka invited you to stay with him while the trial is ongoing. His family didn't mind, and yours decided that a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

-The guy felt bad that he had to scare you. He mentally promised to compensate you for all the ruined days.

-Everything was going great until you found all these damn pieces of paper. Copies of your ex's fake letter. Dozens of unsuccessful attempts to forge handwriting.

-Why? Why did you open this box? Why did he forget to throw it away?

-Luka was terribly upset. But he knew what he had to do. He has to correct his mistake.

-He pushed you into the closet, snatching the letters from your hands, and locked the doors.

-Luka hastened to get rid of the evidence.

-He'll think of something. Without proof, no one will believe you. He will say that you had a fight with him and after everything that happened, you are simply confused.

-He will tell you over and over again that there were no letters until you both believe it.

-Luka did all this for you. You will understand this. He will always protect your friendship.

[impactedfates]

Hii! I loved your platonic Genshin kidnapped child reader so, could I ask for Platonic Honkai star rail men when their child is kidnapped?

★ A/N: Yep, you can. Here you go, hope this is alright!

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial

★ Format: HeadCannons (Characters Included (Separate): Sampo, Blade, Argenti + Gepard)

☆ Warnings: Mentions and hints of kidnapping // Mentions of death (In Blades one)

★ Extra: Reader is shorter then most characters (They're about 6-7 age wise) // Characters are single dads // Semi Proof-Read // Short

Sampo is a con man, and he's made many people dislike him, many people want revenge on whatever he did. He knows this, however he never thought those people would resort to kidnapping his own kid to do so.

Look, you can hurt him, you can ruin his reputation, you can do whatever. But to kidnap you just because of your association with him is where he draws the line. As soon as he gets word on what happened he's finding out your location straight away.

And as soon as he knows it, he'll find a way to get you back and the perpetrators won't know what hit them until they wake up to find you gone and a note from the man himself, Sampo Koski.

Blade is pissed. Sure he may not always have time for you however he cares for you a lot. You are his kid, and once word gets to him that you're kidnapped? He is tracking you down no matter how long it takes or the amount of bodies gets left in his trail to find you.

He gets SilverWolf to help track your location and as soon as he knows he's off to get you. He only has to pray to whatever Aeons that you're blindfolded as he's not wasting a minute in hearing the cries of mercy, they don't deserve it.

Once he gets you home he inspects you to make sure you're fine, to ensure you're not hurt. He never lets you leave his sight after that, or anyone's for that matter. If he must leave for a mission he asks for the other members or even Elio to take care of you until he returns.

Argenti truly loves and protects you. As a knight he does this incredibly well so when someone successfully kidnaps you he's more than surprised. He puts a halt in his search for Idrila as looking for his child is far more important in this moment and time.

He isn't sure what he did to get someone to want to kidnap you or if all they want is money. But he will track you down, if they want money then he'll give it to them. However if you are hurt upon returning to him or they still refuse to give you back then he isn't afraid to put up a fight.

He won't go too far, he'll merely knock them out and call the appropriate authorities to take them away. He understands that whatever happened shook you. Scared you, so he'll spend more time with you to try and take your mind off things, take you out to various planets to shop. His search for Idrila can wait. For now YOU are his priority

I feel like Gepard oftens leaves you with Serval when he's out on duty. So the chances of you getting kidnapped are rather low as you have an auntie to protect you, not to mention the Silvermane Guards outside her workshop and how I feel Serval would make small guard robots.

So it comes to a surprise when he finds out you've been kidnapped. He doesn't bother asking questions, for now he quickly gathers a search party and gets others to ask around as he investigates the workshop. Perhaps you were kidnapped by a worker of Serval, this gives Gepard a good idea and he searches the houses of said worker.

Once he finds where you are, he wastes no time in arresting them and anyone else who happens to be in there as he quickly goes to your side to check on your wellbeing. He takes you to the doctors to get you checked up and once you're confirmed to be okay he's relieved.

Bronya gives him a few days off so he can spend time with you, it also gives him time to figure out how to ensure this won't happen again. He still trusts Serval to look after you, and she's already making sure to be careful who she lets work with her but he wants to be doubly sure nothing will happen to you again.

I need Blades banner to go so I'm not tempted to pull for his LC. I need Loucha.

[knoxic]

How to be a High Lady?

How they met

Eris Vanserra x Mate!Reader (f)

Summary: How they met and her discovering the bond.

wc: 3k

warnings: death of family members, fire (non explicit house burning/death by fire), cursing

a/n: Eris being 🤭😍😁😝🤗 whenever she's like 🤨🙄😠😒 is so important to me

part 1, part 2

For months now she tried to put herself back together, trying to move on, but being alone was hard, especially for someone who had always been surrounded by people. Her coven was her family, its oldest members helped her mother give birth to her, helped raise her, its youngest had grown up with her, they all made her who she was now. And they were gone.

Gone, and she wasn't even there to witness it. She was far away, traveling, enjoying everything there was to enjoy, not a single drop of worry in her head, after all, they had promised they'd be fine. She didn't even come back straight away, no, it was weeks after, their house had stopped burning long ago, what was left of it stood black and cold, filled with ashes and sorrow.

She had found herself a place to live but she didn't remember how she did it, everything seemed so... unrealistic, never did it cross her mind that this could happen to them. Days after she came back, when she absolutely needed to get food, she went out in the village to the same place her coven used to go, no one recognized her, maybe they never really pay attention to her or they just didn't care, a way or another, she was glad no one looked her way twice. On the way to her new home she heard whispers about a witch who lived in Autumn, thinking it was her, she stopped and pretended to be examining the bread basket they had placed in front of their bakery.

"Do you think she cursed him? I did see him limping yesterday." One of the males spoke, his voice had a weird accent, from another court then.

"What are you? An idiot?" The baker slapped him in the back of his neck, "That cripple always limped! I heard he asked her to fix his fucked up leg but she couldn't, so he did that." His hands, sprinkled with flour, gestured behind the other male, as if pointing to said 'that'. Her shaky hands dropped the apple she held, the direction the male pointed led to her old house, which meant that whoever this cripple was, he had burned her house, he killed her family.

She ran, faster than she ever had before. Her legs only stopping when her feet met the dirty floor, the rain and wind from the past few weeks had gathered around the ruins laying there, the walls had turned moldy, weeds grew where the tiles had broken. It was all a mess, and still her knees touched it, her arms braced her body, the bare skin of her thighs had gotten wet but she couldn't decide if it was from her tears or the rain, which she didn't even realize had started. She looked up, droplets of rain caressing her face, the sky lighting up with a roaring thunder.

She redeemed herself that day, not feeling sorry for herself for losing her family, she only felt sorry for the way they died and how early it had been for some of them. She found out her old neighbors had buried their bodies in the backyard of their house, their tombs placed one beside the other, straight away she went to her house to gather what she needed for a proper funeral, so that their souls could finally rest.

After that day she busied herself with work, working as a healer for the village, subtly gathering information about her family's murderer, filling herself with knowledge, learning whatever witchcraft she hadn't been taught and anything else that could be useful in the future.

At night it was difficult to shut her brain off, the only time she couldn't distract herself from the grief by focusing on other people's pain. Lately, whenever she managed to sleep, basically passing out from exhaustion, her visions came in the form of dreams, most of them just showed her what kind of help her clients needed. That was until she started seeing red.

A faceless head surrounded by red hair haunted her dreams, resembling a bird's nest from how messy it was, the noise of crackling fire in the background. It had been a week now and she couldn't manage to have a dreamless sleep, she never complained about seeing another person's life, she actually liked seeing their memories, most of the time it allowed her to see life in a different perspective, sometimes it wasn't a good one, but she still learned something new every time. Now she was really starting to hate these memories, whoever it was that demanded her attention was starting to get really annoying.

She set aside her job to focus entirely on the vision, spending her afternoons walking around the villages instead, occasionally stopping at restaurants or bakeries, visiting libraries and sitting around whenever she found a bench. Not once had there been any indication of who this person could be besides their hair, she didn't even know their gender, she caught a blur of the pale skin of a pointy ear but that was all.

If it wasn't for the tasty foods she got to try, her time would've been completely wasted. She met a redhead once but her hair was way too perfect, completely different from the one on her dreams, and she didn't seem in need of anything. After a whole week, she gave up, started meditating instead, clearing her mind and focusing her thoughts on that annoying redhead, wishing that whoever it was, would find their way to her.

For a couple nights, the dreams stopped, maybe it was the herbs tea she had been drinking before bed, or maybe they had fixed their problem themselves and didn't need her help anymore. The next morning she woke up and decided she'd spend the day in her village again, just to be sure.

The day had been going relatively normal, as soon as she stepped out of bed she started feeling a little lightheaded but didn't think too much of it, now as she walked through a small trail on the way home, a path she rarely took, she felt dizzy, her heart beating so hard she could barely hear anything else. She knew there was a bench a few meters away, if she walked a little faster maybe she'd managed before passing out, but she wasn't in that trail anymore, now she stood in front of a cabin. A very cozy looking cabin, from the open curtains she could see a male placing logs in the fireplace, it was too dark to see his face so she stood silently until he started the fire, she didn't know what she expected but... his hands lighting up with flames definitely didn't cross her mind. The log he held caught fire immediately, the male seemed to have no rush in placing it with the other logs, his eyes reflecting the flames like they also burned.

Her sight got blurry again and the familiar forest appeared around the edges, his face being the only thing clear, she couldn't, wouldn't, look away. The red strands of hair that brushed against his delicate eyelashes, his perfect nose, his flushed cheekbones, his perfect plump lips and his captivating golden eyes, she was fascinated.

"Are you alright?" A rough voice snapped her out of whatever that was. Only now noticing she had crouched down, one of her hands braced on her knee, the other massaged her eyes, trying to clear her sight.

"I asked you a question." The male demanded, a warm hand, way too hot to be normal, touched her shoulder.

"Yes, sorry," she closed her eyes and shook her head lightly, "Just dizzy, I guess." She giggled, amazed that she was so struck by a male she'd never seen before, and it was only a vision.

When her eyes opened, she was met with a the cleanest pair of boots she had ever seen, even with pieces of leaves stuck under the soles it still shined, beside his feet was paws. A heavy breathing close to her ear made her jump, her shaky legs pulling herself up and away from the small smokehound who tried jumping on her, landing on their owner's outstretched hand.

"Forgive me, he's young," the male adjusted the hound on his arms, cradling it like a baby. "I'm still training him." He said, locking eyes with her.

Those burning golden eyes that she saw just moments ago were now amber, looking at her so intensely she almost backed away.

"What?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed. She supposed having a stranger stare her down would make her uncomfortable too.

"Sorry, I thought–"

"You keep apologizing..." he muttered, looking almost annoyed.

"I had seen you before." Her voice sounded weak, she was still processing that the male she had been literally dreaming about was right there, not to mention that the most vivid vision she ever had had just happened and it was about him.

Why?

"Well, you might have."

"Who are you?" She questioned and could swear he almost seemed offended.

"I– You don't know who I am?" He lifted an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. Gods, he really was annoying.

"I should?"

He laughed, a deep sound that she swore she could feel in her bones, the hound in his arms whined at being disturbed from his sleep.

"Yes." He dropped the puppy to the floor, her eyes followed the motion and finally seeing the many other hounds who surrounded the male, what the fuck?  "I'm Eris Vanserra." He gave out his hand for her to shake.

"Ah..." His hand on hers felt wonderful, a comfortable touch she hadn't felt in over a year. She distantly heard herself telling him her name but her mind was wholly focused on his touch, the firm grip he had on her hand, the calloused fingers that somehow still felt soft. Why was it so confusing? Not only was he the annoying male that prevented her from sleeping peacefully, he was also irritatingly beautiful. The Mother must be laughing at her face right now. It didn't even look like he needed help!

"You still don't know, do you?" The fucking smirk still hadn't left his face.

"Uh," What even was his name again...Vanserra? Fucking shit.

It was an explicit rule in her coven that they never came close to the Vanserra family. They didn't mess with politics and royalty, their family consisted of many types of fae, even mixed ones, the High Lord hated people like them. Beron hated lesser fae and therefore the people who liked them.

"You're the High Lord's son." Any good thoughts about him were pushed to the back of her mind by guilt, what would her family think if they heard her calling him beautiful?

"And suddenly you're pulling away..." His hand dropped hers after feeling her hold go slack, "Not fun to bicker with the High Lord's son is it?" The smirk on his face turned into a sad smile, his eyes dropping to watch the hounds at his feet. Now the small horde of smokehounds made sense.

"It's not..." she felt sad for him, "It's not smart." She couldn't tell him exactly why she it wasn't fun to be around him.

"Hm, right." His hands slipped into the pockets of his chocolate colored trousers, the hound closest to him perked his ears at the move, Eris slipped a hand out and gave him a bone shaped treat, his hand went back into his pocket and fished out several more treats for the rest of them. She watched amazed.

"So, are you going to tell me why you were crouching down here looking like you would pass out?" His head still didn't down.

"I was dizzy." She said simply, he didn't need to know the reason for her dizziness.

"I gathered that. Why?" He all but rolled his eyes.

"Why what?" She snapped.

"Why were you dizzy?" She could swear she saw the corner of his lip curl upwards.

"Why do you care?" Her braced her arms against her chest, cocking her head at him, he hesitated to answer.

"I don't. Are you going home or do you plan on being here all day?" He started walking around, glancing at both sides of the trail.

"You make a lot of questions..."

"And you seem hesitant to answer them..." He finally looked her way, his eyes filled with something she couldn't exactly place. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing you need to know." Her voice reached his ears like music, her attitude enticing him.

"I'm just teasing you, honey." He laughed, stepped closer to her, slowly enough that she could step away if she wanted to. She didn't. "May I walk you home?"

"You shouldn't." She suddenly wasn't so sure.

"That's not a no..." he cocked his head.

"That's not a yes either..." she mirrored him.

They stared at each other for a while, when his eyes drifted away from hers she took the moment to admire him, not noticing he admired her too.

"Sir..." A voice snapped them out of their little moment. The male stood a few steps away, clad in Autumn colors of armor. "The High Lord demands your presence." Eris nodded at him and he turned away, walking in the direction of her home.

"So, I should be going." Eris said after the male was far enough, the sad smile making its comeback. She wasn't sure what came over her when she answered.

"My house is that way." She looked at the corner the male had just turned.

Eris didn't say anything, only held his arm out and gave her a smirk. She took his arms and they walked silently, his smokehounds close behind, one of them keeping up with him like a shadow, the puppy found their way around her legs.

"He seems to like you, which is weird, they hate everyone." He gave her a sideways glance, "Did you enchant him or something?"

"I don't need to do that." She kept looking at the trail, pretending she didn't see him looking at her with a smile.

They reached her house in silence, a beautiful cottage, a small version of her old home, the front yard was filled with medicinal herbs, a beautiful garden she took pride on. When she tried to pull her arm away from him, his hold tightened, his hand resting on hers.

"Nice garden you got... Hm, Echinacea, Asiatic pennyworth, Calendula..." He patted her hand lightly before dropping it and looking down at her. "Are you a healer?" He smiled.

"Yes." She didn't offer more information.

"Good, always good to know a healer." He nodded. "Well, I must be going, have a good evening, My Lady. Hope to see you around." He bowed while gently lifting her fingers and kissing the back of her hand, when he straightened back his lips still carried that smile. What an adorable smile.

He turned away before she said anything, his hounds followed him with hurried steps, all but one.

"Eris!" She shouted, making him turn back quickly. "The puppy..." She pointed to the small hound at her feet, looking back at them both as if wondering why he was suddenly the sole attraction.

"Oh–" his hand rubbed the back of his neck, his mouth opened and closed but no sound came out, he glanced at another hound who didn't seem to care if the puppy was missing. "Well, keep him, he seems to like you better than me anyway." Eris laughed, his cheeks a tinged pink.

"What? No. I can't–"

"Please, if you're going to keep passing out in those woods, you might need someone to get help for you," he teased. "Besides, it would give me an excuse to see you again, I can train him for you, or teach you how to train him." She feared the smile he gave her at that moment, showing his dimples and perfect teeth, would haunt her forever.

She couldn't argue back fast enough, she wanted someone to keep her company, when she tried to reason with him he was already turning his back on her, whistling to the hounds as if showing that even if he called, the puppy wouldn't leave her.

Years later, she found herself going back home to him. That annoying redhead.

A couple months ago Eris had shown her the cabin he built for them, it was a dream they had in common, building their lives together in a small place. Eris had grown up in a large palace that never felt like a home, he hated the tall ceilings and the maze of corridors, the whole place was filled with servants and guards and still felt empty. She had grown up in a house perhaps too small for the amount of people that lived there, the children were separated into pairs, and they loved the arrangement, some of the adults were couples so they naturally shared rooms too, only her mother and another female had rooms for themselves.

They were raised in completely differently homes and yet their dreams were the same. All they needed was a house big enough to fit both of them comfortably and enough space outside to build more rooms in the future. Their love was the structure of their home and the backbone of their family.

She walked slowly with her hound, Cole, a nickname for Collected, because he's anything but collected. His tail kept bumping her leg, how he could still be excited even after walking for hours was beyond her. Her garden came into view first, then their porch, then she saw Eris from the open window. All of a sudden she was brought back to years ago, a chill running down her spine, to the first time she had a clear vision of him, the way he was moving logs around the fireplace, she remembered clearly how in the next few moments his hand would light up in fire. She had forgotten that vision thinking it was someone's old memory, but it was hers, he was lighting up the fireplace so she would come back to a warm home. Now as she stood there, Cole by her side, watching her lover, she couldn't help falling more in love with him, now she knows why this memory was shown to her that day, why it was so important.

Eris Vanserra was her mate, and now her heart and soul belonged to him.

Taglist: @callsigns-haze, @lilah-asteria, @mybestfriendmademe, @coldmermaidhologram

a/n²: I made Eris name specific plants used for... wounds... and preventing scars from getting larger...

a/n³: I literally sat for a moment looking at the screen like I had just written a murder scene (the first paragraphs of reader's backstory didn't faze me that much, what's wrong with me)

[melanieph321]

If you can write for Kenan yildiz where he gets jealous because you’re friends with your ex

PS I like your work and I hope you have a good day😌🫶🏼

Ugh, love this! 😩

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 2.0

(DAY 5)

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - The Perks Part 1/2

+18

Part 2

Enjoy!

You stared at the invitation in your hand, feeling your heart sinking into the depths of the school grounds. "Marco, what is this?"

He stood before you with a cheap smile and box of chocolates in his hands. "Don't play dumb Y/N, it's an invitation to prom, what else?"

"Why are you inviting me to prom when you know that I have a boyfriend?"

"Who, Kenan?" Marco laughed. It was hard to believe that you used date him once. Marco was technically your ex boyfriend, but sharing the same friend group made it nearly impossible for you to avoid him.

"Be real Y/N, Kenan is not coming to Prom. Juventus has a game on Saturday."

"He might make it." You hissed. Although you knew how important Juventus game against Napoli was. The perks of dating a professional football player.

Kenan wasn't like any other guy though. He was muture and very determined about his sport. You met him through family connections, and what started out as an innocent friendship quickly turned into something more. Kenan however, never finished high school. A tradition like prom probably had little significance to him.

"Okay, let's say he does make it...." Marco explained, "Don't you think it will ruin everything?"

"How so?"

"Well, you'll never get any time for yourself, let alone on the dance floor. People, especially the girls, are going to flock after him like wild chickens, meaning the two of you won't have a moment for yourself. Is that really what you want your biggest night in high school to be like?"

You thought about it and remembered the last time Kenan came to visit your school. Along with your parents, he came to watch your performance with the school orchestra. However, all hell had broken lose, with even faculty members jumping Kenan, asking him to sign their belongings. Where you came from in Italy everyone was a fan of Juventus. It was as simple as that.

"Fine." You nodded. "I'll be your date to the prom."

"Yes." Marco punshed the air with his fist.

"But don't get it twisted, we're only going as friends."

"And we'll have a great time together."

You rolled your eyes, accepting the chocolates that were handed to you.

"See you Saturday beautiful." Marco blew you a kiss before running off. He was such a kid. But he did have a point about taking you to prom. Question was, how would your boyfriend feel about it?

Instead of going home that afternoon you went straight to Kenan's house. However, his car wasn't in the driveway when you arrived, meaning he had yet returned home from training. Instead you were greeted by the maid, Rita, who made you a snack as you waited.

After a long day of school you ended up falling asleep on Kenan's couch, only to be woken up by wett kisses serenading your face.

"Stop it." You muttered.

A chuckle. "Why? You look so cute when you sleep."

"Kenan?" Your eyes flung open.

He smiled down at you. "I didn't know that you were coming over. I would've picked up some food on my way here."

"No need." You sat up, rubbing your tired eyes. "Rita made me your favorite..."

"Kisir?"

"It was delicious."

"You little..."

Kenan threw himself over the couch. You were pinned down with your arms above your head as his weight fell on top of you.

"Say you're sorry."

"No."

"Say your sorry for eating my Kisir."

"Never."

You squealed as lips targeted your neck, searching for your tickle spot.

"Kenan."

"Say your sorry."

He continued to trace the kisses downwards, one had letting go of your pinned arms.

"Kenan, please." You giggled. Your laughter quickly turned to soft moans as Kenan's free hand slipped down your skirt, snaking it's way between your  trembling thighs.

"Kenan."

"Relax." He whispered. "I'll make you feel good baby."

Although it felt good, really good. It was not what you came here for.

"Kenan, we need to talk."

It was the panic in your voice that made him stop. He sat up, cheeks flushed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" You pushed off your elbows. "Of course not, no."

"T...then why did you want me to stop?" The worry in his eyes was heartbreaking.

"Beacause..." You sighed, never having imagine how hard it would be to confess to him. "I have something to tell tell you. It's the reason why I'm here, not to..."

A moment of clearity appeared on his face. "Right..." He coughed. "Shoot...I guess."

He sat back on the couch, stretching for your legs to rest in his lap. "What would you like to tell me?"

"Well..." Where to begin? "I told you that my high school prom is coming up...."

"The party?"

"Yes, the party." You nodded. "With all of my classmates.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Sounds like fun."

"And it's gonna be. It's just that..." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "...Marco asked me to be his date and I said yes."

"Marco, as in your ex boyfriend Marco?"

"Yes, Marco Lazzarini."

"Okay, but why would you want to go to prom with that fool?"

"Kenan."

"He is though, a fool. You told me so yourself."

"Yes, but he's also one of my closest friends, ergo, I'm going to prom with my friend."

"Your ex boy-friend."

You legs fell as Kenan stood. He was clearly upset.

"Kenan, you know I would've asked you to go with me."

"So why didn't you?"

"What do you mean, Juventus is playing Napoli on Saturday, remember?"

He stiffened. "It's this Saturday?"

"Yes." You sighed, finally getting your point across."

"S...so you're only going with Marco because I'm not able to?"

You nodded. "That and other things?"

"Other things?"

You thought about what Marco said, how Kenan coming to Prom would ruin things.

"It's better this way." You nodded. "People would have bothered us if you came with me to prom."

Kenan frowned. "So that's it? I'm a burden to you?"

"What, no."

"Sounds like it."

"What, no Kenan? That's not what I meant and you know that."

"That's what it sounded like to me."

"Kenan, you got it all wrong."

He shook his head. "Nah, if you want to go to prom, go. I hope you and Marco Lazzarini have a great time together."

"Kenan?" His gaze, his tone. It was all spiteful.

"You heard me Y/N, go! I have to rest anyway. "

It felt like a shot to the head. You stood from the couch, your body trembling like noodles. You left Kenan's house with a lump in your throat soon replaced by hushed sobbing as you made your way home.

Part 2

[that-hazbin]

Omg omg omg your last post, the one about Charlie fucking up a spell and all the hotel residents disappearing amd the Al going crazy, is just *chef's kiss* already. I love me some radio demon angst, especially when he is forced to show he cares.

BUT BUT BUT HEAR ME OUT. What if this was combined with the Blackout AU? And now Alastor thinks what if he did something and doesn't remember it? What if everyone is gone and it's HIS fault? What if he hurt them? Idk, it just adds another level of angst, I think, to have Alastor not only unable to find any of them and also be hit with the realization that he cares so suddenly AND also think he might've caused it and just... feel so much self-loathing.

(Bonus points this is also how the residents find out about the blackouts. Or at least they start suspecting that there is more to Al than he lets on, not just about ghe fact that he cares. He starts talking to himself in a fit of panic and is like "Why did you have to this again?! You ruined it again!" and they'd be like wtf is he talking about and after they figure it out and they go back to normal and manage to calm Alastor down they're like "uhh, heyyyy btw what did you mean when you said this and that??" and Alastor is like "👁👄👁 Aha- I should retreat to my room now, it's been a long day after all, anyway, ta-ta people!" and just melts into the shadows. But now everyone knows that there is DEFFINETLY something going on with The Radion Demon that he doesn't want to tell them)

(Also another thing, what role would Vox play in this fic? I assume he saw them all disappear with his drone. Would he try and attack the hotel? Or stay out of it?)

Thanks you for reading my ask! Love your hcs and your AUs and just your whole characterization of Al!🫶🫶🫶

I'm not entirely sure Alastor would be able to even FUNCTION if this were combined with the blackout au, mostly because the stress of them disappearing would 100% send him into a blackout. A nonviolent one, where he runs and hides under his bed. Because feral unconscious Alastor is feeling very scared out of nowhere and thinks hiding will equal safe, which "deals with the problem."

It would take a WHILE for him to remain conscious enough to properly panic about the situation and actually start theorizing as to what had happened.

Personally, I want to separate the two AUs because it feels like there would be TOO MUCH going on and I wouldn't be able to dedicate a lot of time and thought into each individual aspects of that sort of fic.

Either way, there's definitely going to be questions after the cast gets out of the "ghost" situation. Because Alastor, under the belief that he is alone, is DEFINITELY going to let slip a LOT of things that he never would have otherwise.

His "rivalry" with Vox, for example, could be one of them. In this AU, Vox doesn't realize he captured something important until later when it becomes evident that the royal family is missing. Lucifer is capable of teleporting, after all.

However, Alastor's mental stability is very visibly deteriorating, and he's frantically running around the Pride ring asking about the residents of the hotel. He's basically making a public spectacle of himself in his desperation, and Vox doesn't need to be a genius to put the pieces together, especially when some other members of demon nobility start poking their noses around.

Vox is quite literally the LAST person to have seen the royal family. And he caught their disappearance on camera. He doesn't care about the hotel, but he DOES care about fucking with Alastor, so while he won't attack the hotel, he WILL be releasing that video to the masses. Possibly while Alastor is out in public, where his reaction can be seen by everyone nearby.

And oh, it will not be a good reaction.

Vox is deliberately trying to wear down Alastor psychologically, and he's going to wait until Alastor's hit absolute rock bottom before planning his attack. He just needs to be patient.

[yuuuraaa]

𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓵𝔂, 𝓶𝓮

Letter2! ~ {who is he?}

all letters!

producer's note![~ i forgot to mention that y/n was part of the supreme student council lol lmao ~]

featured artist!~ @orimuraa @rikimuraaaa @14raeriluv @lonelylandofan @monniemons @deezbutz28 @yangwoniez

school finally ended and everyone went home.

except for a few people.

the sports clubs had practice everyday now that their sportsfest is starting.

"open the letter before practice starts!! i don't want to wait anymore!!" hanni whined. but her plea was shortly interrupted by the volleyball players and their loud conversations.

jake elbowed niki's side, making him cough. he was hiding in the crowd of other volleyball players, but he was watching y/n

"ugh, they're always so loud." minji complained.

y/n was not going to let the loud and no(i)sy volleyball players ruin her day.

"come on, let's go." y/n said to her teammates, walking into the court.

"hey! no! we're using the court first! the net is for volleyball use only! not for your silly badminton!" heeseung shouted. this infuriated y/n, so she walked over to heeseung.

"what do you mean? we were obviously here first." y/n retorted.

"y/n, it's fine, we can wait." minji tried to intervene, failing to do so either way.

"no, they can use it. i don't mind waiting actually." interrupted a voice from the volleyball team. niki nishimura.

"no! just because you have a crush on one of the badminton members doesn't mean they can use our volleyball net!" heeseung scolded him. the girls were shocked.

y/n didn't let the sudden revelation stop her fit of fury.

"it's not only a volleyball net, it's for badminton use as well!" y/n shouted at him.

"let's just go already, there's no use in fighting these stupid volleyball boys anyways." y/n grumbled. she signaling to her members to leave.

y/n was contemplating on what heeseung said. niki has a crush on one of the badminton members?

she decided not to dwell on it any longer and sit on the bleachers, waiting to use to gym room.

"now can you open the letter?" danielle asked once more.

"fine. i guess why not." y/n finally caved. she opened the letter and read it carefully.

y/n was once again happy, someone actually cared for her. someone other than her friends or family.

people didn't really watch badminton in her school. they'd rather watch volleyball and all of the handsome boys who were all sweaty after playing the sport.

so they didn't really pay attention to y/n as much. even though she was treasurer of the supreme student council did give her attention when she was first elected, people eventually moved on to 'more important things.' and she was forgotten.

but that didn't stop niki from forgetting her.

y/n was fine not being in the spotlight. popularity was never something she always wanted to chase. "it would eventually become boresome and tiring to keep up with." she told herself. it surprised her when she actually heard that someone had a crush on her.

but just who is he?

CHAPTER END!!

producer's note![~ sorry if the chapters are getting short.. I be running out of ideas fr fr ~]

previous!/all letters!/next!

[holmesianlove]

Chapter 21 -  Purple

Sherlock had returned to his room that night and laid in bed, reading his book. He lapped it up, cover to cover in record speed and then spent the rest of the night pondering John’s behaviour. His usual instincts told him that John was somewhat nervous around him lately. But he didn’t trust his instincts right now at all, because he knew he was personally invested in the outcome. He was most likely misreading things entirely. The book had been eye-opening. Perhaps dangerous, entertaining romantic fancies like that, though. It seemed to Sherlock that the themes in the story were about influence in decision making, how relationships between family members, and pressure to conform to expectations almost ruined the ingenue’s chance at love. It all seemed so very relevant to their situation. 

Things with John were very strange at the moment. When they were good, it was lovely and relaxed: laughter, conversation, friendship. All the things Sherlock enjoyed of their time together as flatmates, as friends. They worked well together. John was the only person he had ever felt that much ease with. He didn’t have to try or to put on an act with John. He could just be. And John didn’t mind. In fact it seemed to be the same for him. They were invaluable partners - in work and in life - to each other. And yet, there was definitely an unending sense of pressure around them - from friends, family,  media, clients, all destroying the little moments they shared. Sherlock could feel it - the electricity between them, sparkling with potential, ready to ignite a flame at any moment with the right conditions. And then one word, one snigger from someone and John disconnected all over again. Even here, he thought, hoped, that perhaps time away from London, from the familiar, from the watching eye of the media and his brother, John might be able to relax into their time together. It certainly seemed to be helping a little. It felt as if he was making small amounts of progress each day, to show John there was something here important enough to pay attention to. 

Having separate rooms at this hotel had actually been a blessing. It had allowed him time to really get his head clear, to think of a new plan of attack. Sherlock took his time getting ready. He may not quite know the right way in, with John. But what he did know about was experiments. Hypotheses. Perhaps testing the waters might be a gentle way to gauge what was going on here. He pulled out The Shirt. He remembered one other time wearing it and he was fairly sure John had seemed entirely distracted by it: his favourite, purple, well fitted shirt. He tucked it firmly into his best, most tailored black pants and jacket. He wanted to make a good impression on the client, but more importantly he wanted to make an impression on John. If this didn’t make things clearer, nothing would.

He walked down the stairs to the breakfast room. John would already be there. Always the early riser, needing breakfast, impatient to get to work. He would be halfway through breakfast by now, ready for Sherlock to waltz in, make an entrance, sip some tea and drift out again for their cab. It was their usual routine. But when Sherlock entered the breakfast room, John wasn’t there. He looked around, a little surprised. Maybe he had already eaten? He dialled John’s phone and a slightly flustered sounding friend answered.

"Sherlock."

“John?”

“Yeah hey, on my way down, sorry. A bit late today.” He sounded a little out of sorts.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll find us a table,” Sherlock offered calmly.

“Okay, thanks.” John hung up the phone.

Sherlock grabbed himself some pancakes. He might as well eat something, he supposed. And coffee. He was going to need strong coffee today. He had settled himself in, and had just brought his first mouthful up to meet his lips when John walked in and he froze. Long enough that the pancake slid right off his fork and back to the plate, surprising him. He looked down at his plate and then back up to the doorway of the breakfast room, mouth still gaping open.

John Watson walked in with more swagger than usual. He was wearing a suit. An actual suit. His good suit, in fact. Sherlock had only seen it once, in court when they had had to testify for a case. John didn’t own a lot of very well tailored clothes, but this suit was actually very nice. A dark blue, that matched the shade of his eyes. His shirt was crisp white and he wore a striped blue tie. He even had his good shoes on. He didn’t even wear those on first dates.

What was going on? Sherlock felt his mouth go dry. John had showered, shaved and created a bit of a swishy thing with his hair. Oh god, I’m in trouble. I was supposed to be messing with him.

John saw Sherlock and gave a little half wave, and the most winning smile. If he registered Sherlock’s outfit, he didn’t show it. Not yet, at least. He walked over and sat down opposite Sherlock. “Morning,” he said brightly.

“Morning,” Sherlock said, his voice a little raspy. He realised his empty fork was still paused in mid-air and he might look like an idiot, returning his fork quickly back down. “Sleep in?”

“I… had a restless night. Thought I’d sleep a bit late, so I could get ready and feel refreshed.” John seemed to blush slightly which intrigued Sherlock.

“Well you look…” Sherlock couldn’t find a word for it. As he paused, John’s face registered the hesitation and frowned slightly, looking down at his outfit. “You don’t normally wear a suit. It’s…”

“Is it too much?,” he rushed to ask. “I just thought, if we’re going to a posh house, and you always look so…” For the first time John gestured at Sherlock’s outfit and Sherlock saw it. The blush, and the look in John's eye, the one he got the last time Sherlock wore the shirt.

“No, it’s fine. It’s… good… you look... good,” Sherlock managed to spit out.

“Okay. I have other clothes if you think it’s…”

“No.” Sherlock said it a little too forcefully and then grabbed desperately at his coffee to cover the overreaction. “You look the part.”

“Well, okay.” He smiled. “I’m starving. I’ll be back. Those pancakes look really great,” he said, before disappearing to the buffet to grab some of his own.

Sherlock closed his eyes and said a little prayer to the universe. He never prayed, but lord, if he ended up a stuttering mess today just because John suddenly decided to be fashion conscious, he would be furious at himself. He needed to stay focussed. To stay calm. It was just a suit. Just a suit. He himself was wearing a suit. Yes, but you wore yours as a sexual strategy, he reminded himself and then thumped his fist on the table in annoyance at his own retort. Why was John wearing… that?

“Everything alright?” John asked as he sat back down, looking a little concerned at Sherlock’s tense posture. He took in Sherlock’s clenched fist on the table without a word and sat down, preparing to eat.

Sherlock merely gave him a weak smile and a nod.

“So, what’s the plan of attack, then?” John asked.

“We’ll travel out to the… ah… estate, speak to the lady of the house, and… then hopefully she will… let us interview… the staff and… the rest of the family.” Sherlock’s brain felt slow, annoyingly slow. Basic thought felt impossible. This was not a good start.

John nodded and looked up at Sherlock and his eyes were… god they were more beautiful against that suit jacket. But then, Sherlock was sure John was looking back at Sherlock like he was a meal too. They ate in silence, just sharing glances with each other along the way, discussing the case every so often. Within the hour they had polished off breakfast, packed up their belongings and checked out of the hotel. 

John stood on the curb outside the hotel in silence. He looked over at Sherlock, then at his luggage, then at Sherlock, a few times before he finally spoke. “I thought… perhaps with the… case…”

“What are you asking?” Sherlock spoke in irritation, trying to avoid looking at John. It was making things so much harder.

John rolled his eyes. “Well… so… we aren’t staying here… tonight?”

“No, if we need to, we will just stay on at the mansion,” Sherlock explained. "Obviously." “The mansion. I see.” John nodded quietly to himself.

“Problem?”

“Not at all.”

“If we solve it quickly enough we can simply head home tonight,” Sherlock suggested.

“Already?”

Sherlock smiled to himself and finally looked at John again. “Enjoying yourself?”

John’s eyes locked with his and then looked away. “Well… it’s been… I think… I don’t know… and maybe I’m… but… well it's only that...”

“John, you’ll find speaking in full sentences is more productive.”

John sighed. He closed his eyes. 

Was he doing that so he didn’t have to look at the shirt? Sherlock smirked. Was he struggling just as much? God, Sherlock hoped so. He wanted to be back on the upper foot. He needed to be on his game for this case.

“It’s just been… a nice change of pace. It will be a shame to go home so soon.” His eyes snapped over to Sherlock’s. Although I love it at home. At Baker Street,” he rushed to add. “It’s… comfortable there. But… it’s been…” He shook his head in frustration. “Never mind.”

Sherlock reached out and put a hand on his arm. He nodded. “I know,” he said. “I know what you mean.”

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[buddierecs]

secret relationship buddie fics

all mature rating!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

you and me by: woodchoc_magnum "an alternate ending to season 6, where buck realises that what he's been searching for has been right in front of him the whole time" word count: 55k important tags: getting together, angst with a happy ending, alternate ending, first kiss, smut, taking care of each other no one has to know what we do by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "five times the firefam find out about buck and eddie accidentally and one time it’s on purpose." word count: 4.1k important tags: relationship reveal, family feels got nothing but love for you (fall more in love everyday) by: smilingbuckley "5 times buck and eddie are almost caught + 1 time they are" word count: 6k important tags: hiding, mild sexual content, first dates, dorks in love, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort i give my hand to you with all my heart by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "eddie and buck go on a trip to big sur that changes their lives for ever." word count: 16k important tags: road trip, first kiss, first time, love confessions, friends to lovers to husbands.

no one knew (series) by: prosperdemeter "chimney, unknowingly, crashes date night." word count: 24k important tags: established relationship, oblivious!chimney, outsider pov their not so secret secret by: exporerofworlds "the five times the team suspected buck and eddie were together and the one time they knew." word count: 8.3k important tags: 5+1 things, fluff, angst, jealous!eddie diaz, found family, love confessions, soft!buddie let's take our time, baby (love lasts forever) by: lizzybizzyzzz "after a day full of sex-related calls on buck and eddie's three month anniversary, one member of the 118 catches them in a compromising position." word count: 7.1k important tags: humour, dirty thoughts, anniversary, hijinks & shenanigans, dirty jokes, fluff what would you do, if they never found us out? by: my_hopeless_opus "eddie and buck are secretly dating, but they get caught." word count: 5.4k important tags: hurt!buddie, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, couch cuddles, coming out

the sacred experience of intimacy by: princessfbi "don't speak... just kiss me." "wha—" the sound of surprise from buck was lost in an instant the moment eddie's lips crashed into his. the loud bass of the bar drifted away to the thundering of his own heart beating into his chest, roaring in his ears, and leaving him thrumming with the way it made his pulse points jump beneath his skin. eddie’s hand was heavy on the back of his neck. heavy and all encompassing as it anchored buck into the moment rather than letting him drift away with the breathlessness that was making him dizzy with disbelief." word count: 10k important tags: developing relationship, getting together, soft!buddie, taking care of each other, friends with benefits sinful lips of an angel by: justsmilestuffhappens "eddie getting flustered watching buck eat a popsicle at work on a very hot day in la. (sorry but buck's lips are sinful and eddie is only human) word count: 2.6k important tags: 5+1 things, oral fixation, teasing, bets & wagers, food kink, implied sexual content

if these walls could talk by: bellafarella "buck and eddie try to keep their new relationship a secret from their 118 family on a 24-hour shift. they’re not as subtle as they think." word count: 3k important tags: stolen moments, established relationship, kissing, love confessions, idiots in love, showering together, getting caught

off the cuff by: bigfootsmom "buck and eddie had plans for how they were going to reveal their relationship to their friends and teammates, but mother nature and some stubborn handcuffs are unreasonably good at ruining said plans." word count: 4.5k important tags: relationship reveal, handcuffs, humour, minor injuries, earthquakes

explicit rated secret relationship fics general audience rated secret relationship fics

[sabrondabrainrot]

Just finished "Dark Sun CONFRONTS SUN in VRchat" SO

it's late and I need to go to bed for the weekend plans but I HAVE TO WRITE THIS I think D!Sun isn't doing this for OUR SUN I think he's doing things for the CONCEPT of Sun. He just showed Sun all the worlds where Sun dies, mostly because of Moon.

I usually don't believe what villains say, but here's the thing. This is Sun to Sun. D!Sun is one of those villain's who won't share all the things he wants to do. He trickles out just enough to raise more questions but never give anything of importance away.

Neptor, in the last episode I just finished, did implode. He warned Neptor that is what would happen. He didn't lie to Neptor. He hasn't lied about Nexus. He still sees Nexus as a Moon but hasn't lied about any of his actions. Nexus has done all the things D!Sun warned Sun and Moon about.

So I'm taking what he says to Sun as the truth. I think he's telling Sun this information because it's the most opportune time. He told Sun all the things he CAN do. He fully believes Sun can kill his baby dragon WitherStorm.

He told Sun that he is capable.

D!Sun wants Sun to gain his own independence because I think D!Sun sees our Sun as his HOPE.

Dark Sun wants to SAVE all Suns. He wants to save the future ones from dying. Not just from Moon's (that's the main reason though) but also from other things.

We haven't heard of a Sun council, but I think what we're witnessing in the show is the lead up to one being finally formed.

It's canon in the show that Eclipse's tried to work together and ultimately fail.

I don't remember if Moon's were ever stated to try to make councils but it seems most go crazy beyond the point of return far too soon to form one.

Creator is the only person who made a working council and that's due to their own shared delusions. They, however, did not have strength in numbers due to their own shortcomings and egos. They thought they could be uncontested while they 'researched' WitherStorms.

Ruin, a singular amalgam, killed off the entire Creator council in one fell swoop.

ANYWAYS

I think that D!Sun wants to make a council with our Sun, because he's been watching their dimension for a long time. I think he was watching since before Moon even reset and created N!Moon.

I made a silly haha joke about the council of Suns a few weeks ago but now I'm actually seeing character motivation and proof on it.

D!Sun is a villain who's not really done villainous stuff...he's been a schemer and he can't be trusted...but he's not done anything horribly evil yet (besides Neptor, that was so sad, but compared to literally everyone else in the show he did the same thing that Old Moon did to that one Moon robot he built that went rogue in one day. Old Moon blowing that bot up was treated for laughs but what D!Sun did was treated serious, food for thought). He does cherry pick what information he gives but the strange thing is, he hasn't lied. Not once. Early on he flat out told Eclipse and Ruin what he was going to do to them when he put something in their heads. He just didn't tell them what it was. He also grabbed N!Moon and told him he'd scan his head and he did just that, then sent him home. We know he also took a chance to secretly move his dimension and save it during Ruin's revenge scheme. (It's unclear if Ruin's statement that 'Dark Sun killed another Dimension' is valid or not)

I think D!Sun picked N!Moon as the catalyst to making our Sun independent from all Moons.

Nexus is a Moon who started off completely differently from any other Moon. As far as Nexus was aware they were never merged, they never had to fight for dominance. He had the ever present shadow of Old Moon....but that's it.

He got to be a gentle sweet and loving brother to Sun and the rest of his growing family. He wasn't perfect, but with time he would have been a great family member. It was growing to be that way.

I think D!Sun was waiting and hoping Nexus would also go crazy. Like every other Moon he's ever watched. He called him 'a dead one'. We have no privy to how other reset Moons are. The chances are they all are doomed by their own narrative to kill their Sun or just go insane.

While he didn't cause Nexus' to go crazy...he was fully banking on it to happen.

After all, Sun is willing to forgive Old Moon for hurting him over and over because he can excuse it away. "Moon was trapped in my head so it is justifiable why he was mad and lashing out." "Moon had the kill code so it makes sense why he hurt me and flew into blind murderous rage." "I call Moon brother and that means something to me." Sun has always found SOME WAY to justify why he should forgive Old Moon. It's his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

D!Sun I think wants to show our Sun that forgiveness can run out. There's also the added bonus N!Moon/Nexus promised to never hurt Sun or be like Old Moon.

He broke that promise.

This is also D!Sun's evidence that Moons are going to always be 'evil' or in the wrong.

D!Sun is also studying things that were thought to be impossible. He's taming WitherStorms and learning how to communicate with them. He's figured out how to make multidimensional star energy work. He's done the impossible over and over. He, like our Sun, has the uncanny ability to affect and change fate.

My entire theory is just this, I think D!Sun is trying to rewrite the universal fate of all Sun's and he's starting with ours. The one we know, because he hopes that he can break other Sun's free.

Free from Moons. Free from suffering. Free from death.

He states he just "wants to be left alone." but he's ALWAYS interfering. Even visiting Puppet's original world to go to the grave-site of the Sun and Moon that tore themselves apart.

D!Sun can't sit by because he knows too much. He knows too much on the suffering that occurs to every innocent Sun out there. He's still a Sun. He's just the Sun that loves other Suns.

It explains so much. It explains why he's bothering to do any of this. Explains why he went and killed Lord Eclipse/witness his downfall personally. It explains why he told Puppet to not hesitate with BloodMoon (the entity that's tortured Sun from day 1 with the July incident). It also explains why he's kind to Earth and Lunar, even joking with them while subtly hinting how to catch Goliath. Explains why he kissed Sun on the mo-

I mean....

Anyways that's my late night rambles typed this up 30 mins before bed hope it's coherent. I couldn't sleep unless I wrote this down. That was such a good episode.

I also want to go in to how D!Sun is super wrong and I think Nexus is going to subvert the expectation by snapping out of it but idk about that one. I have to wait and see. I would want nothing more then for D!Sun to be wrong about all Moons.

[serapheemz]

⤑ Okinawa, Interrupted

SYNOPSIS: Not even vacation is an escape from Dazai's antics. Will our pitable Kunikida ever catch a break?

CW: Missionary, Porn with Plot, Crackfic, Porn with feelings, Osamu Dazai is an asshole, Making out, bottom!Osamu Dazai, top!Kunikida Doppo, Love/ Hate relationship, Drunk sex, Anal sex, YAOI!!!!!

WORD COUNT: 4,451

Kunikida always says, “Without hard work, what grows is nothing but weeds.” And for him, at least, it’s true. Dazai, on the other hand, just brushes off his nagging, especially when he’s scolded for slacking off. But sometimes, after working so hard, growing a few weeds isn’t the worst thing in the world—particularly if you can smoke them.

It’s obvious who really needs a vacation in the agency.

Somehow, with whatever budget they managed to scrape together—because honestly, they have no idea how they even found an affordable place to stay in Okinawa of all places (Ranpo insisted on something exotic)—they ended up with at least six rooms.

Which was fine. It was honestly more than fine. At least they got to go on vacation, together, as a ‘family’.

But could anyone named Kunikida ever truly relax with a bandage-squandering machine like Dazai around? The simple answer is always ‘no.’

Don’t get Kunikida wrong—Dazai can be introspective and even genuine when he wanted to be. But God, did he love getting on the blond man’s nerves. One could call it Dazai’s passion, his true calling in this desolate life he so desperately tries to escape. And that, by the way, gave Kunikida more of a headache than he already had when he woke up in the morning to call Dazai—just to make sure he’d survived the night. He couldn’t forget his partner, after all. What good would it be to lose him?

Perhaps Kunikida didn’t despise Dazai as much as he let on. Perhaps, in his own way, he felt some tenderness for him.

T’was hot out. No, probably just humid.

Kunikida set his bags down on the hardwood floor of his room. Simple, not particularly spacious, but good enough for what they’d paid. The blue bed in the corner caught the early rays of the sun, basking in the soft glow of dawn. It was still early—barely 9 AM—which meant he had a long day ahead. Whether that was a good thing or not, he couldn’t say.

Kunikida sat down, legs crossed, his back impossibly straight as always, and pulled out his notebook.

The hundreds of little details scratched his brain in a way only a man as weird as him could understand. His eyes skimmed each note with practiced precision, ensuring his first day of vacation would be anything but perfect—while also making a mental note to make sure none of the other agency members bother the president. He deserved rest the most.

Then he read the most important rule: ‘Don’t let that idiot Dazai ruin what you have planned.’

It felt like a cursed artifact, and reading it out loud was like summoning the man himself—the actual moron.

“Yoo, Kunikida-kun!” A loud shriek blasted into Kunikida’s eardrums. He snapped his notebook closed, set it down, and got up to greet the brunette standing in his doorway—swaying on his feet like a damsel in distress. He swore he could feel his blood pressure spiking.

“Ah, there you are,” the mummy beamed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Why’re you hiding? We’re heading to the beach soon~”

Kunikida sighed, pushing his glasses up with a finger. Dazai almost grimaced. Everything Kunikida did was with precision.

“I’m aware,” Kunikida muttered, clicking his tongue. “Naomi informed me. There’s no need to scream at the top of your lungs for the whole house to hear, Dazai.”

“Then get ready! You see, I’m already ready.” Dazai made a show of it, dramatically flaunting his bright blue and yellow Hawaiian shirt—one he’d gotten for God knows how little yen from some elderly lady he probably ripped off. “It must suck being so slow.”

Kunikida blinked. “Are you planning on swimming with your bandages on? They’ll get wet, you’ll have to change at least ten times a day, and you’re far too lazy for that.”

Dazai looked down at his bandaged arms, smuggly adding, “Do not fret! I might slack off at work, but I’m dilligent in the art of changing my bandages.”

Kunikida turned around to place a neat stack of clothes into the dark wooden closet, “Whatever you say.”

“See you soon, Kunikidaaaaa…” Dazai spun around on his heel and dashed off into the corridor.

And that’s how the nightmare began.

It must’ve been a fly, that’s what Kunikida thought when he saw small black things fly into various corners of the beach from his peripheral vision.

But he’s at the beach, with the agency. With Dazai. So it’s never that simple.

In his feigned delusion, he continues believing flies are somehow bigger than a thumb, flying across the beach’s landscape, just to ignore the searing hot pain of a black rock smacking into the side of his head.

“Oops!” the walking ‘don’t do this at home’ warning yelped, “Sorry, Kunikida, your big head is just soooo hard to miss. I do apologise!”

Kunikida’s hand eagerly grabbed the fallen rock and flung it back, knocking Dazai straight in between his eyes. The missed punchline fell back dramatically, flailing his hand over his forehead, like a little girl.

Another instance involved Dazai’s sudden interest in Okinawa’s supposed ‘cultural’ traditions. The word ‘cultural’ being in quotation marks because everything he said was bullshit.

He tried to convince Kunikida that the Okinawan inhabitants practiced a sacred ritual capable of curing any physical pain. Skeptical, but still intrigued, Kunikida gave in. After all, he did trust Dazai, even if that trust gave him severe migraines. And, truthfully, his back pain was becoming unbearable from the constant piles of work he had to do every damn day.

Kunikida sat silently, watching Dazai and Kyouka circle him with the same black rocks he had just thrown at him moments earlier. It wasn’t until the bandaged bastard began placing rocks on his nipples that Kunikida snapped, finally realizing he’d been fooled—somewhat. After being asked to justify his actions, Dazai merely shrugged, feigning innocence and falsely victimising himself, wailing at Kunikida that it was just how the ritual was! When, in fact, no such ritual existed.

Kunikida’s last straw was Dazai pouring wet sand in between his toes while he was sunbathing. That situation ended with Dazai diving head first into the sandy waters.

Did throwing Dazai into the ocean backfire? Of course it did. Kunikida ended up having to drag him out after he tried to drown himself, all while Dazai blabbled about the supposed benefits of immersing oneself in the Pacific Ocean.

Thankfully, the agency’s little beach trip was over. After a grueling four… no, five hours in the blistering heat, accompanied by Dazai’s buffoonery, Kunikida was spent.

His head felt like it was spinning. He couldn’t catch a break from the sight, presence, and sound of him. Dazai, Dazai, Dazai…

Dinner time! President Fukuzawa decided on grilling meat, and everyone was on board.

The day seemed to fly by. The sun was already setting. Kunikida sank into the soft cushion of his chair, resting his back. Yosano curled a strand of hair around her finger as she walked out onto the terrace, glasses in hand, smiling at Kunikida. “Have a bad first day?”

“…Not bad, just exhausting.”

She laughed, setting the glassware down. “That’s contradictory.”

She bent down to grab a bottle. Upon closer inspection, Kunikida realized it was rum—white rum. Then he noticed a few lemons, ice, and a baggie of mint leaves. She was planning to make cocktails for everyone. How thoughtful.

Yosano poured a generous amount of rum into one of the tall glasses. She cut open a lemon, squeezed it, then cut a slice from one of the halves to use as garnish. Then Yosano added… watermelon juice? Kunikida hummed—perhaps it was a Yosano-style mojito she was trying to make.

She shook and strained it, poured it into another glass, and topped it with club soda. What rigor…

Yosano pushed the glass toward Kunikida, smirking at the skeptical look in his eye. “Watermelon juice?”

“Ranpo doesn’t drink alcohol unless it tastes sweet. It’s good, try it. You need it after a long day of dealing with Dazai’s bullshit.”

There goes his name again. Kunikida went a whole minute without thinking of Dazai. New record.

His loud thoughts were drowned out by the pleasantly refreshing drink, which he almost gulped down instantly, eliciting a surprised hum from Yosano before she snickered and went off to find Ranpo, proudly showcasing the new drink she supposedly invented.

The garden was filled with chatter. The motion around him calmed him. One moment of unity with oneself—

—Until a familiar figure plopped down in front of him, smirking.

“Oiii, Kunikida-kuuuun! Fancy seeing you here.” Dazai sat across from him.

Well, at least he didn’t sit beside him. That would’ve been worse.

“Hello, Dazai.”

Perhaps it was the drink he was sipping on, but Dazai’s voice didn’t annoy him much anymore.

And he hadn’t noticed that the rest of the agency had already sat down and begun eating.

And he couldn’t quite tell what Dazai was hinting at when his foot brushed against Kunikida’s leg.

He hadn’t even noticed Dazai had started drinking with him.

Actions Kunikida would usually make a snappy comeback to suddenly blurred the line between bothersome and enjoyable—bittersweet.

How weird. Dazai never managed to do that. In fact, nobody had. What was he even thinking? He couldn’t tell whether the smirk on Dazai’s drunken lips was the asshole-ish one he usually had or something more seductive.

Seductive. Dazai was seductive.

Yes, he was quite handsome. He admitted it himself once.

Perchance, Kunikida wasn’t wasted. Not yet, at least. He rolled his eyes, nudging Dazai’s elbow.

The brunette hummed, his long lashes fluttering as he blinked at his partner, then looked away, trying to pull his attention from the wry smile forming on his lips.

He wasn’t sure if Kunikida’s cheeks were so red from the alcohol or his ministrations. What if his own face betrayed his thoughts?

“Did Kunikida-kun have a nice day at the beach today?”

“I’m finally relaxing, Dazai, don’t spoil my mood.”

Dazai’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Oh, maaaaan! You’re no fun, Kunikida! I bet if you loosened up a bit, you’d have lots of fun,” he teased.

“The reason I’m not having fun is because of your constant presence.”

Dazai gasped in faux-awe, whining as he dramatically flipped his hair. “Must you be so cruel?! I have done nothing but indulge you in my fun endeavors! You’re the ungrateful one, Kunikida! Pu, pu, pu.”

Kunikida pinched Dazai’s ear, dragging him close in a way that would make any sober onlooker question their relationship status. Dazai wailed happily, giggling as Kunikida let go and shoved his face away.

“I’ve had enough of you, Dazai.” He abruptly stood up, slurring his words, and proceeded to storm inside like a toddler throwing a tantrum. It was an unusual sight for the agency’s ensemble. They turned their heads to Kunikida, who waved goodbye. “Goodnight, everyone. Have a great rest of your nights... I am heading to—sleep,” he murmured.

Dazai blinked. Everyone looked toward him.

“Is he drunk already?” Yosano tilted her head, amused, as she poured herself another glass of red wine.

“Yup.” Dazai answered.

“I take it this is your doing, Dazai?” Fukuzawa raised an eyebrow.

“No. Yosano poured him the drink,” he pointed to the dark-haired woman. She confirmed with a quick nod before responding.

“But you pissed him off.”

Dazai giggled, waving his hands comically before getting up. “It’s fineeee… I’ll go calm him down!” He gave them a thumbs-up before rushing inside.

A moment of silence followed.

“He’s drunk, too,” Ranpo observed.

“Yeah,” Yosano added.

—

Dazai, Dazai, Dazai…

Kunikida’s head was bursting with warmth. It felt like one of his usual headaches, but softer, more diffuse—less sharp and intense.

He leaned against his closet and pushed his bangs out of his face. His eyes rolled towards the shadowy figure standing in his doorway, quietly observing him before making himself known. His footsteps so heavy they held some sort of meaning that Kunikida couldn’t figure out right now—not in this state.

Dazai didn’t seem very sober either.

His arms snaked around his waist pulling him off the closet, gently nudging him further into the room.

“Why’d ya run off on me like that, Kunikida? I thought you enjoyed my company…” he pouted, tracing his finger against the taller man’s arm.

Dazai frowned at the lack of a reaction. Usually, when teased through physical means, Kunikida reacted brashly, often times resorting to slapping, choking, punching and throwing Dazai over his shoulder with a strength he didn’t know his co-worker possessed.

“I thought I told you to buzz off. I’ve had enough of your tomfoolery.”

“‘Buzz off’?” Dazai laughed, “What’re we? Twelve? If so, I’m not gonna! If you really wanted me to buzz off, you’d have long dragged me out yourself.”

Kunikida let out a long, exasperated sigh. The heat in his head spread into a pink flush on his cheeks. It must be the alcohol. No way this idiot’s hands fondling him so vulgarly made his mind and heart teeter like this—on the brink of something he couldn’t quite recognise, something he understood, perhaps, but refused to admit to.

Dazai was right, in any case. Why was he hesitating? Why wouldn’t he just take matters into his own hands like he always did?

Two questions he wouldn’t ever have the chance to answer, because Dazai’s hand already wandered down to the pockets of his neon colored swimming trunks he hadn’t bothered to change out of. It slipped right in, teasingly daubing above the thinly clothed area.

“May I apologize for today? I can make it up to you.” he leaned into his ear, brushing the blond strands aside, “You’re already shaking, either way. I know you’ll get off by yourself the second I leave, anyway.”

He tensed, but remained unmoving. Dazai continued, “I know you want this. Denying it is useless. Your muscles are tense, your face is red and you’re hard… I can feel it through your shorts. Take that stick out of your ass, and have fun for once—I beg of you, Kunikida.”

Dazai’s hand ran along the curvature of Kunikida’s neck, pressing his calloused thumb to the pulse beneath his skin. For a moment, there was nothing but the faintest brush of contact, and the world stilled.

The brunette pushed himself off Kunikida, circling around him with a finger tracing the sharp line of his jaw before flopping down onto the mattress, less soft than he’d expected. He crossed one leg over the other, peering up between his messy bangs, a few strands clinging to his forehead, damp with the faint sheen of sweat that kissed his skin.

“So?—”

“You’re… out of your mind, Dazai.” Kunikida raised his hand, trying to shake it dismissively, but Dazai caught his wrist, itching him closer to the bed, pulling him in.

“Don’t you want this?”

“Sleeping with your co-workers is h—highly unprofessional—”

“But you want this?”

“Yes-! No… I mean… I guess so, but not really—”

“Did I make the great Kunikida stutter? How cute.” he added, swiftly bringing Kunikida’s hand to his face, pressing his cheek into it.

It was comforting. Kunikida’s hands were bigger than his, but his palms weren’t nearly as weathered—despite all the work he did daily, despite the countless missions he’d go on that Dazai would pass up, deeming them far too simple for ‘a mind as great as his own.’

“I want a yes or no. If you say no, I’m outta here as fast as I came in—”

“Yes.”

Dazai let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his impatient leer now replaced by a smug smile. His hand reached out to craddle Kunikida’s cheek, caressing his temples with his thumb.

“Have you ever done this?”

“Sex? I think that’s none of your concern…”

Dazai smiled.

“I just wanted to ask if you had any hard no’s I had to beware of�� So rude, Kunikida-kun…” he sighed, playfully pushing the blond hair tickling his ears back.

He leaned into the mattress, further pulling Kunikida in by both his face and the blue collar of his blouse. He carefully observed the look on his partner’s face—from how concentrated he was to the sweat dribbling down his forehead. He was so close. His lips ghosted his own, and they were parted, taking in shallow breaths he subconsciously held.

What a nervous wreck—even when he’s drunk.

Dazai leaned in, pressing a light, airy peck to Kunikida’s lips. The spark in Kunikida’s eyes flickered, a quiet reaction before Dazai pulled back. Then, without missing a beat, he kissed him again, pressing into it with more meaning. Then another followed, his teeth grazing Kunikida’s bottom lip, just enough to make him gasp. And all the while, he could feel the hard press of Kunikida’s erection against his pelvis as their lips met again.

Kunikida greedily gripped Dazai's legs, which were wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him in, desperately. He spread them wider, making room for himself to move. He pushed his hand against his face, muffling his desperate whines as he leaned into his neck, craning it to press his face into it.

Dazai smelled intoxicating—in an unusual way. His cologne mingled with his sweat and the sea salt that clung to his skin, remnants of the ocean dive Kunikida forced him to take earlier that day.

Kunikida dug his fingers into Dazai’s hair, inhaling sharply, his scent invading his senses. He subconsciously rocked his hips into Dazai’s, whining, lips grazing his bandaged neck—almost like he was too scared to continue his caress.

“Keep going…” the other man groaned, desperately clutching onto Kunikida’s hips.

It was only then that a bell rang in his mind—Kunikida had finally, impossibly, managed to render Dazai vulnerable. An event that would probably never take place ever again.

It was such a rush of confidence, it made him press his lips into Dazai’s neck, reaching his hand up so he could pathetically scratch at the bandages covering the area—searching for the perfect spot to kiss.

Dazai’s hand wrapped around his, squeezing it gently between his bony fingers. He gazed up at Kunikida through half-lidded eyes, his skin so hot to the touch. It must’ve been the alcohol. Kunikida hummed, his voice soft, "I’m sorry. Is that a no-go?

Dazai didn’t answer, only slowly blinking and getting up further to cup his cheeks with his palms, smooching him again. Kunikida could only assume Dazai didn’t want the bandages to come off, not in any case.

In an attempt to initiate something deeper, Dazai’s hand fumbled toward Kunikida’s shorts, his fingers tugging at the silly strings in a needy, slightly uncoordinated, playful frenzy. He peppered smooches down to Kunikida’s jawline and neck, sucking a dark hickey into his skin before pulling back to marvel at his masterpiece. If they were sober, they might’ve actually cared. Especially Kunikida. He was the master of professionalism—how could he possibly show up in a group setting with love bites on his neck? That would give people the wrong impression.

But the way he looked at Dazai, as if he were a beautiful muse waiting to be ravished, told an entirely different story.

“I want it. C’moooon, Kunikida-kuuunn… pleaaase?” he whined, dragging out the words impatiently.

Kunikida groaned, furrowing his eyebrows, and reached to unbutton Dazai’s shorts, pulling them down testily. His hand palmed the wet patch that marked Dazai’s growing erection, leaning in to push his thumb in his mouth to quiet his bold mewls.

He hauled his boxers down and grasped Dazai’s dick, wrapping his index finger and thumb around his aching shaft, hiking his legs up and pressing him further up the mattress to hush him up.

Dazai’s hip rocked against nothing, trying to meet Kunikida’s as he tried to push his own shorts off, pressing his cock against Dazai’s, inching closer to his ear to kiss it. He smirked, tracing his finger along Kunikida’s chest, eyeing his dick, “So clean~ I should’ve known you like to trim yourself.” he slurred.

Kunikida rolled his eyes.

Dazai was so kissable. He never even realised it.

Everything about him was perfect. The shape of his face, his sharp jawline, the arch of his nose, and even his arms—bandaged though they were—brought a sense of warmth through him. His brown hair and the way his bangs got in his eyes sometimes, the way it framed his face made him seem like he was one of the prettiest people Kunikida had ever met.

Or maybe it was the alcohol talking. He wouldn’t know till morning, either way.

“Fill me up, c’mon, c’mon…” he murmured, arching his back just to feel him closer.

Kunikida didn’t argue. Why would he?

He pressed the tip of his cock against Dazai’s ass. Dazai enveloped him using his arm, sneaking his fingers into his blond locks, pressing his lips into Kunikida’s messily, scrunching his face as Kunikida slowly pushed his tip inside. No preparation, no lube. Dazai would regret skipping foreplay almost entirely in the morning. Now was no time to think, though.

He nearly bottomed out, biting down onto his lip and cursing quietly, finding Dazai’s gaze again.

“Oh—fuck…” he moaned, Dazai’s tight walls squeezing impossibly tight around him.

“That… good?” Dazai asked, biting back a groan as Kunikida rolled his hips experimentally.

“…Yes, it’s amazing…”

“Keep going, then.”

And Kunikida did.

The smack of his hips against Dazai’s ass was so loud, he was physically taken aback. It sounded so needy, so desperate for release, to feel him, to hear him.

To be engulfed in his embrace—because Dazai’s arms hewed so tightly around the arc of Kunikida’s neck, and his fingers buried themselves so deeply within the strands of his hair that it felt like Dazai was melting into him. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses and smooches to Kunikida’s adam’s apple, and shook every time his hips met the other’s.

It was such a shame Dazai’s moans were so loud—Kunikida wished he didn’t have to cover his mouth, to stifle the desperate cries, because Dazai’s voice was just so pretty. Befitting a man like him.

“Quiet down…” he begged.

“Why? Are you embarrassed? Scared—ngh—someone might hear?” Dazai uttered between moans.

Kunikida pressed his nose into Dazai’s cheek, nuzzling the side of his face so lightly, it felt like his tender caress brought him closer.

Closer.

His hand fell from his hair onto Kunikida’s arm. His muscles tensed and relaxed under his touch, repeatedly, and he shifted it to easily grab onto his shoulders, gripping with strength Kunikida had no idea Dazai even had. He groaned into his ear, thrusting so deep that Dazai’s ears rang and his vision flashed white for just a split second.

“Mnh… nghah, Kunikida-kun…” he pathetically gasped. It struck Kunikida in the heart, hearing Dazai’s yelps of pleasure. His eyes shut tightly as he took a hold of his cock, slowly stroking, pressing his thumb against the tip, and when Dazai’s back arched, Kunikida pressed the softest of kisses to his neck. “No, I’m close… I’m so close… not yet, not yet…” he whimpered, pressing his curled up fists against Kunikida’s chest, but he made no effort to try to push him away, instead using his legs to pull him further in.

“No matter…” he huffed, “You’ll finish either way…”

Kunikida searched for any sign of discomfort in Dazai’s glossy eyes, and found none. Instead met with his partner’s mouth agape, a sliver of drool trickling down his chin as he tried to look Kunikida in the eye.

The stimulation Kunikida’s hand offered Dazai brought him so impossibly close to the edge, he couldn’t tell if he was teetering on it or had already finished—his mind left a foggy mess. He couldn’t focus on anything besides Kunkida and how he fucked him so arduously yet so gently.

Dazai’s hips lifted off the mattress, and he brought Kunikida’s hand to his mouth in an attempt to conceal the humiliating sounds escaping him. His entire body burned.

“…’m gonna—” he gasped, “—so close…”

“C’mon…” Kunikida breathed, his fingers curling around Dazai’s wrists as he pressed them firmly against the bed, pinning them down with his entire body weight.

The overwhelming sensation of Dazai’s impending climax crested, a wave of pleasure breaking over him in an instant of release. His eyes fluttered shut, rolling back as his hands strained against Kunikida’s grip, futilely trying to break free. Kunikida fucked him through his orgasm, the feeling of his weight crushing him igniting sparks of heat across Dazai’s skin. Dazai gasped, his breath sharp and shallow, as white streaks of fluid painted an image so unforgettable on his stomach—it spoke a thousand words to Kunikida, the rawness of it leaving him breathless. The sight was so alluring, so intimate, that it had Kunikida doubled over, thrusting one last time, finishing deep inside, and collapsing on top of the brunette, hand still holding his wrists firmly in place.

Silence.

One could call it peace. But no peace exists when Dazai’s around. No matter how intimate the moment, he always finds a way to ruin it."

“Oh, you've filled me, Kunikida-kun!” Dazai giggled, breaking free from Kunikida’s grasp, his hand flailing drunkenly in his face.

“Not now, Dazai,” Kunikida groaned, wiping a hand over his face.

Dazai pressed his fingers into Kunikida’s cheek, smiling like a fool at the expression on his face.

Kunikida couldn't help but notice how tired Dazai looked, still handsome in his exhaustion. He wasn’t so sure anymore if alcohol was the sole culprit for his sudden attraction. Perhaps he’d always liked Dazai, but was too tired of his antics to realise it.

He brushed the hair from Dazai’s forehead, the strands sticking to his damp skin.

The air in the room felt heavy, thick with the scent of sweat and Kunikida’s cologne. They could barely breathe in it.

Kunikida reluctantly pulled out, cleaning himself up before trudging to the balcony. He swung the door open, letting the cool breeze wash over him. His limbs felt heavy, and his eyelids ached with fatigue.

“Pull your pants up, Dazai. I opened the window…” But when he looked back, Dazai had passed out, already snoring softly on the bed, his limbs sprawled out comically.

Kunikida sighed, deciding it wasn’t worth getting worked up over. He slipped into bed beside Dazai, closing his eyes with a quiet, resigned breath. He'd deal with it tomorrow.

[artiststarme]

Let's Get Out Of Here

Aha, the writer’s block is gone! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you guys like it! Please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Eddie had wanted to leave since he stepped foot into the god-forsaken town. As soon as he’d passed the town’s border in the backseat of the social worker’s sedan, he knew he didn’t belong there. Hawkins was everything he despised about society; white picket fences for the rich, small town boys who thought they were better than everyone else, and snobby adults that turned their nose up if he so much as looked at them.

So yes, he’d been imagining a way out since he got in. He’d imagined Corroded Coffin making it big and getting to leave Hawkins together, best friends living the best life on stage while sharing their music with the masses. They wouldn’t be the outcasts that people treated like shit beneath their boots anymore, they would be something important. Unfortunately, that dream was squashed by his experiences over Spring Break. His old friends wouldn’t so much as glance at him much less leave town to hit the road with him.

Gone were the friends that would listen to him narrate a campaign for hours on end. Gone were the the friends that would drop everything to practice one of Eddie’s spur of the moment song ideas. After Spring Break of his third senior year, Eddie was alone.

He managed to avoid criminal charges by the skin of his teeth with a bogus alibi fabricated by the surprisingly-still-alive-Chief Hopper. He was finally able to graduate from high school and get a full time job to raise some money. But everything else was ruined. The friends he’d had since sophomore year were gone, the trailer he’d called his home was savaged, and his body was marred with gruesome scars that still wrought pain on the worst days.

On the bad days when the pain kept him in bed, he’d fantasize about leaving Hawkins. New, more achievable dreams centered around moving someplace new with Wayne. They’d pack everything up in the van and truck and just take off. They’d leave the tragic Midwest behind and head somewhere bigger like LA or NYC to take the world at storm, Munsons against the world as it had always been. Unfortunately though, they just didn’t have the funds to do that. Wayne couldn’t leave the plant when he had no savings to his name. And Eddie didn’t have anywhere near enough saved from working at Thatcher Tire to support them both.

He still had nothing going for him in Hawkins though. The harsh glares and pointed insults had only worsened since Chrissy’s death. He had to leave. But, he’d always been a coward at heart and he wasn’t brave enough to leave on his own. He would be trapped in the town that hated him until he died or something happened to force him out.

The one thing he had still was his family. It had lost several members but it had gained even more. The Party had managed to creep passed his defenses to find a place in his broken heart. Steve and Robin in particular grew close to him, assigning themselves best friends of Eddie Munson 1 and 2, respectively. They would hang out around Wayne’s new trailer, bother him at work, and he’d bother them at theirs.

It was on one of these impromptu hang-out sessions that a spark of hope developed in his chest. He’d been mourning his cowardice and inability to leave in silence until Steve started complaining about feeling trapped in his empty home. It was then that Eddie saw an opportunity.

“I don’t know, man. I know it sounds stupid, how can I feel trapped in a big house? But there’s just nothing there! And it’s, it’s suffocating, man. I don’t know how much longer I can stay there.”

Steve murmured his words against the end of a cigarette, his body leaning against the side of the car that Eddie was pretending to work on. But how was he supposed to focus on changing a timing belt when the object of his affections was expressing a will to leave?

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Eddie nearly fell over as he rushed to reassure him. “Hell, I’ve felt suffocated since I got here.”

Steve hummed softly and took a puff of his cigarette.

Eddie smirked sardonically and chuckled to himself. “Maybe we should leave together. You could stop being a ghost in your parents house and I could stop being the murderer that killed his classmates. We could get a place together and decorate it half jock, half metal. That’d be a sight.”

Steve looked over at him with squinted eyes. “Really? You’d want to leave with me?”

“Why not? You’re one of my best friends, Stevie. I’d love to leave with you.”

The suspicion melted from Steve’s expression and a genuine smile took its place. He dropped the cigarette to the gravel ground, pulled the tool from Eddie’s hand and pulled him into an all-encompassing hug.

“Let’s do it! You and me. And Robin, I don’t think she’d let me move without her. We’re a package deal, if that’s okay.”

Eddie laughed and it’s him, high in the moment despite it all being a joke. “Of course! You can bring your emotional support lesbian and I’ll bring my Sweetheart. Then we’ll take the world by storm.”

Steve held onto him for another few moments before pulling away. “Okay, when do you want to leave?”

The smile fell from Eddie’s face. “Wha- seriously? You actually want to leave with me?”

“Um, yes? I feel like I made that pretty obvious.”

Eddie blinked. “Um, okay. How about the end of the summer. Then we’ll have enough time to find a place and raise some cash.”

Steve grinned. “Sounds good! I’ll tell Robin. See you later, Eds!”

Eddie could only watch him skip to his car in shock. Steve continued to surprise the hell out of him. He’d shocked him in the Upside Down by being a genuinely good guy. Again when he’d fought the entire basketball team two weeks afterward to protect Eddie’s honor. And now with plans to rescue him from the stifling hatred of Hawkins.

When he pulls him into a gentle kiss as soon as they step into the apartment with Robin behind them griping about carrying all the bags, that’s a nice surprise too.

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