#(as well as other awful and unsettling things when you are left to fill in the blanks)

[didsomeonesayventus]

sometimes u just gotta think about the shit this kid went through. what the hell man.

[bunniesanddeer]

HI <333

I was wondering if you could write an Alastor X insomnia!reader where like she wakes up in the night and overall just can’t get good sleep? And maybe she wanders around the hotel until she finds Alastor bc he doesn’t sleep often, and he offers to like go to bed with her and they cuddle? If you don’t want to that’s fine :)

Hi! I hope this is what you wanted? I like the way it turned out, even if it is really short.

Insomnia

Pairing: Alastor X Insomniac!Reader

Tags: Fluff, slight angst, insomnia, soft Alastor

Word Count: 966

Sleep has always dazed you. Some nights, it would wrap you up in its arms, embracing you like an old lover, and other nights, it shunned you entirely. Tonight, sleep left you cold and lonely in your bed, your thoughts your only company. 

Your room was silent. It was that silence that made you vividly aware of the rushing of your blood in your ears. It made your skin itch. Eventually you got too restless, and sat up in bed. Your nightgown rode up on your thighs, and it drew your attention to your legs. Your claws lightly scratched the skin there, trying to think of a solution to your problem.

You heave a sigh, and decide that grabbing some water might help. (You hated the taste of water, in Hell. It all tasted like slightly dirty tap water. It was awful. But then again, you were in Hell). 

The halls are quiet, the soft patter of your footsteps the only sound. You quietly make your way down to the first floor, and you intend on heading to the kitchen, when a light in the sitting room catches your attention.

Alastor is sitting in one of the lounge chairs, reading a book. The lamp closest to him was turned on, casting his face in a warm light. He looked softer, this way. You stood there, watching him for several moments. 

Alastor had been an enigma to you since you arrived in Hell. You had gone to the Hotel quite soon after your descent, so you didn’t know much about Overlords and how they worked. You knew that Alastor was one, but he had always been gentle enough with you, so the idea didn't scare you at all. He made you feel things that unsettled you. Your skin itched in his presence, and your heart fluttered. Every inch of you filled with a bizarre joy when he smiled at you. And no, not his normal smile. There were times, when he wasn’t really focusing, that his smile softened at the edges, and his pupils grew wide and locked on you.

There was so much you didn’t understand about Hell, or yourself, but this crush you had on him felt like it was growing out of hand.

Alastor’s thoughts jarred you from your thoughts. 

“What are you doing awake, dearest?” His voice was gentle, and his static was a mere murmur. His red eyes were watching you. 

You sighed. “I can’t sleep. Feels like I haven’t in a while,” you say, while striding over to him. His eyes flicker over your form, his eyes snapping to meet yours when he notices your attire.

“Ah. I have been in much the same position before. I have come to find that not sleeping at all is the solution!” He laughs a little, but it trails off after a moment. “You do look dreadfully tired, my dear.”

“Ha. Thanks, Al. Just what a gal wants to hear,” you say, gently teasing. You can’t help but feel that exhaustion seep into your bones at his words, though. You are tired, and that feeling has come to you far too often. 

His expression softens further, and he looks nearly sympathetic. It makes you feel something akin to discomfort, so you flick your gaze away. The wall looks incredibly interesting.

You hear the soft thud of his book closing, and then the shifting of fabric as he moves. “Come along, dear. Let us get into bed. Perhaps a bedmate will bring you enough ease to sleep.”

Your head whips around and up, so that you can look at him. He has to be joking. “You can’t be serious.”

One of his hands cups your cheek. “Come. You need sleep, and I might as well indulge. It has been some time.”

You wonder at his ease and the situation, and it makes you follow him, wordlessly. One of his hands clasps at yours, his claws carefully gripping, avoiding harm with dexterity. He leads you back to your room, and you are sure he has played some mean trick on you. He, instead, leads you inside, and gestures for you to lie down. 

Alastor glances around the room briefly, before snapping his fingers. He’s in pajamas now.

“Ah, that makes me jealous. I wish I could do that,” you whisper. You don’t know why you do, but it feels like it would be weird to speak any louder.

His laugh is soft, and it makes your chest warm. Without any preamble, he lies in bed beside you, and pulls you in against him. You are both lucky the beds in the hotel are so large, because he’s much bigger than you. (Part of you wouldn’t mind, though. It would just require him to curl around you… you need to stop thinking). 

Alastor lets one hand settle on your back, and gently rub there. Your head settles against his chest, and you can hear the heavy drumming of his heart. You feel like you’re dreaming. How can any of this possibly be real? Your relationship with him was in such a peculiar place, and you didn’t have any footing. You were so worried he was going to trip you up and let you fall, any minute.

Your heart starts pounding. As always, your overactive mind makes things hard for you. 

Alastor’s hand squeezes you down. “Stop thinking, sweetheart. We can talk about this tomorrow. Just sleep.”

So, focusing on the heat he gives off, and the weight of the blanket he pulls around you, you force yourself to relax. Your mind slows, and everything settles.

You fall asleep in the arms of Alastor, who lets his eyes close for more than a moment, for the first time in a long while. And the two of you sleep.

I hope you liked! Remember, my asks are open, it just might take me a little while to get to them. I have two more requests I am working on right now. One of them is similar to my "Touch" works, and another is based on the hallway scene in "Dad Beat Dad".

Have a good weekend, everyone!

[slocumjoe]

Previous relationships

Excluding Curie and X6, as I don't HC them as having experience.

Cait; The other woman's name was Power, a caravan mercenary. She was gruffer than Cait, but quieter. Older, too. Power had been around longer than a lot of fucking people in their circles, but still had the wild-eyed frenzy of youth burning in her almost black eyes. Cait liked her because Power made her feel safe. Power was big and mean and didn't let anyone fuck with Cait, not even Tommy. Even Tommy was on his best behavior when Power was around. Power said she just saw a young woman still figuring herself out. Power said she'd be back one day, with money and guns and she'd take Cait with her. She joined the Minutemen. Only one Minuteman survived Quincy. Power joined the Gunners. She didn't forget Cait, but it was a dog eat dog world. Cait would have to feed herself.

Danse; When he was still a Knight, shortly after Cutler's death, he did everything he could to not look like the mess he truly was. He socialized like anyone else, hid his drinking, spent his few caps on makeup to cover his eye bags and worsening health. Anything to look normal, to look like other young men his age. What they did, often, was talk to civilian ladies and go talk in private. There was one lady in a town he'd been stationed in for a few months. She came up to Danse, first. Her name was Eliza. All they did was talk. She told him all of her secrets, her drunk mother, dead father, little brother she cared for, the bar she worked at, her mishaps in the kitchen. He told her about how he felt like nothing without the Brotherhood, the emptiness behind his armor. He babysat Henry a few times while he was off the clock. Eliza held his hand many nights. He left thinking of marriage, of fatherhood. He still thinks of her freckled hands.

Deacon; Before Barb, there were a few. Sasha sticks out to him. She had bright green hair that was always thinning and falling out, fake teeth she'd made from mongrols, and a knife bedazzled with pink jewels. Deacon saw her across the town and all but ran after her, desperate to know what kind of mechanisms made that clock tick. She was fun incarnate. Sasha had a good spirit about everything, and told Deacon that to really make it in this world, you had to be happy being a fuck-ass loser no one would understand. He broke up with her when he found out she was involved in chem rings with raiders, but it was on good terms. He didn't want to deal with that life, she gave him a hug and told him to live as quietly as he found fun. He thinks very fondly of her. Last he heard, she was a ghoul in Goodneighbor with her own beauty salon.

Gage; By all accounts, Robert was not Gage's type. Unfortunately, Gage has a type, and that type is Fucking Awful. Robert was a rich brahmin baron from a big city who was clean, spoke nicely, dressed nicer, and looked like he walked off one of those old world billboards. That's what he looked like. But he wouldn't have met Gage if he wasn't as black as soot underneath all those shiny bits. Robert had a taste for free labor. Gage's gang at the time was more than willing to help him find it. Occasionally, he paid them to escort him to business deals, be hired muscle. Robert liked Gage immediately, found him smarter and funnier. Took him aside for drinks. Said he'd look good, if he could eat more and put some meat on his bones. Robert kept them hired for years, just to buy Gage steak dinners, just to fuck him once he filled out. Gage liked the meals, but out of all of his partners, would rank Robert as one of the most unsettling people he's ever met.

Hancock; He never got her name, but she was blonde, short, had a foul mouth, and fished off the river for money. He watched her wrestle a mutant fish-thing and fell in love. They had so much public sex, Hancock paid someone to try and figure out how many Boston locals had seen his dick and/or her tits. His name for her was Netty, because she wore fishnets and....well. She fished. With nets. He wrote her poems, she told him to shut up and get between her legs. Netty kept him off chems for a while because she could taste them on his breath and despised the taste. Eventually, Netty told him, naked and beneath the moonlight, that she was going to this old war fishing Hotspot, some place the Americans called Maine. He got a letter months later with fish bones and a lipstick stain, telling him she was getting married to an Atom cultist and asked if he wanted a boat ride up for a threesome. Hancock sent her a letter back, politely declining but wishing her a happy marriage.

MacCready; In Goodneighbor, he occasionally shared a drink with a cute guy named Peter. He was a Triggerman, but had a scrappy charm, nice teeth, and looked good in the suspenders. They hooked up here and there, but mostly they'd just make Kent come out of the Memory Den and talk about comics in the sunlight, playing cards on a bench and debating who was a hotter Mistress of Mystery, or if a certain comic run was good or not. Peter was sweet, and Mac really liked him, both as a friend and as a potential step dad. Peter liked kids, and wanted to meet Duncan. Eventually, Peter fucked up on a job, and the Triggermen didn't kill him, but ran him out of town. MacCready heard he was up in Bunker Hill last, and still occasionally thinks about rekindling that friendship. He knows Kent took the loss real hard.

Nick; Despite his hang ups with his current body, a man's desires are not so easily swayed. Nick has a type. That type walked into Diamond City with a sway in the hips, a cig on his lips, and a well-kept mustache. He was a cattle rustler, a cowboy for local farms. His name was Derek. He heard about Nick and came to see the metal man for himself. Derek was quick to say he didn't look bad at all, no, he was rather easy to look at. Said his eyes reminded him of the orangest part of a sunset. Nick weighed his options, if he was truly willing to drop his pants for someone he met 10 minutes ago. He said no. Derek stuck around and quickly proved to be a good guy. Nick dropped his pants the second proposition. For a farmhand, Derek knew his way around robots. Nick blames it on too many years since his last horizontal-tango, but still heats up when he thinks about the encounter.

Piper; Fell for a male stripper in Goodneighbor and still questions her sanity. She was ovulating, okay? And he was kind, and was patient when she fumbled with her caps and told her she was just fine, and played with her hair while he said by her, and...Piper has a soft spot. That soft spot is hot people who just stare at her and smile while she embarasses herself. He was ghoul, his name was Garret and he smelled like expired floral perfume, but God damn it, Piper likes expired floral perfume. They were mostly just fuck buddies, but Piper genuinely thought he was fucking hilarious. He was a pre-war pastor and a lot to say on the matter, though his opinions pickled over the years. Garret sends her letters about hot gossip or useful info regularly.

Preston; met a dominatrix for pay. Preston is not a very sexual person. He doesn't have a lot of libido. Queenie liked that, a lot. She liked being able to just talk and talk, and not have to worry about sex at the end of it. Preston thought she was fascinating, having met so many people through her work and seen such weird sides of them. You brought up any topic, Queenie had a story for it. And she was killer at tailoring and sewing, so she patched up his gear while she rambled about how one of her clients got married, again, and how his new wife tried to kill her, and how she had to fend her off with a sack of potatoes. She was constantly flustered and baffled, once her work-mask slipped off, and her turns of phase were hilarious. Once the Minutemen get rebuilt, Preston got a letter, telling him she'd become a professional tailor, now, asking if the new General needed someone who knew her way around the uniform.

[jerzwriter]

Tobias took his friend Casey to his hometown of Washington, DC, to show her how they did the holidays. She was impressed, but now it was time to show him how it was really done in her hometown of Philadelphia. As they spend time surrounded by Christmas magic, will they be able to keep their promise to be "just friends?"

Book: Open Heart Characters: Tobias Carrick & Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,700 A/N: This is an altered version of a fic I wrote in 2022... but as I'm finally filling in the gaps of my Tobias/Casey headcanon, I needed to make some changes. If you're following the HC, this story would take place after Part Two: With a Capitol T. Part three will be about the last leg of their trip, and the epilogue will follow. I originally posted these as one ridiculously long fic... crazy town. lol I'm also in the process of updating my Tobias/Casey masterlist to make this a little less confusing... for me, more than you! lol. Thanks to anyone who checks this out!

Series Masterlist | Tobias x Casey Masterlist Masterlist

The day after their DC adventure, they slept in a bit. Casey had assured Tobias that while there was plenty to see during the day, the real Christmas magic in Philly took place at night, so a little more sleep wasn't just doable—she encouraged it!

When they arrived, she immetiately treated him to her favorite bagels to start the day, then it was time for a daylight stroll through Christmas Village.  Tobias was duly impressed. The tiny shops had an old-world charm, right in the middle of a bustling city, but Casey told him...

“You haven’t seen anything yet! Just wait until tonight!"

Philadelphia’s City Hall was a grand structure that was breathtaking no matter the time of year, but like everything else, during the holidays, it was spectacular. Surrounded by a cornucopia of holiday treats, it couldn't help but bring out the child in them. Casey was eager to ice skate, but Tobias passed. Still, he was happy to watch her twirl. He had no problem joining her on the Ferris wheel, taking in the sights of the City from high above, before they headed to Macy’s for the Christmas Light Show. Not one to pass up a chance to shop, Tobias spent a little more time there than Casey had budgeted for, but the good thing? By the time they left, darkness had fallen upon the City of Brotherly Love, and Tobias stood in awe in the center of it. Casey was one hundred percent right. As beautiful as it had been during the day, nothing could compare to now. 

It felt like they had stepped into a Christmas movie, with the aroma of roasted chestnuts filling the air as carolers sang Christmas songs nearby. There were plenty of harried shoppers pushing through the crowds, but for every one of them, there seemed to be a dozen others who were casually strolling around, soaking in the wonders of the season. Laughing families with tired toddlers in strollers or sitting atop their father’s shoulders, coworkers giggling over mulled cider, and couples – couples of every age strolled by hand in hand, often stopping to take a picture in front of the iconic LOVE sculpture. Tobias closed his eyes and took in a long breath - it truly was Christmastime. This was a feeling he was certain was only a part of his past. Sure, he had enjoyed holiday parties, happy hours with friends, and the like, but this... this was different, and he wanted to commit every second to memory.

“Excuse me,” a young woman's voice interrupted Tobias from his reverie. “Would you mind taking our picture?" She asked, motioning to the gentleman by her side. "Selfies are great and all, but they only go so far.”

“'I'd be delighted,” he smiled, removing a gove to better grasp her phone. He took one picture, then another, and egged them on a bit before snapping the third. "Oh, come on, give her a little kiss! On the count of three! One, two...” Snap!

The couple thanked him profusely before walking away, and he found himself unsettled by the emotion welling up inside him... was that... envy? His mind began to wander, and he could almost picture walking through the city clutching Casey’s hand; she'd stop them in their tracks to reach up and kiss his cheek, walking arm in arm; an older couple would stop them to declare how they remind them of themselves when they were younger. It was a picture that was as enticing as it was terrifying, but he couldn't shake the image if he wanted to, and in reality, he didn't want to. But a tap on his shoulder from none other than the subject daydream brought him back to reality, and he only hoped she couldn't read his mind.

“Ready to head to City Hall again?” she asked, handing him a pretzel purchased from a street vendor. "You’ll see; it’s a different world once the sun goes down.”

“Lead the way, princess,” he smiled, fighting the visceral urge to take her hand. “Lead the way.”

~~~~~

“OK,” he admitted as the imposing historic building awash in colorful lights came into their view, “and it is not easy for me to do... but you win. Christmas in Philly is pretty amazing.”

“Yey!!” she squealed, jumping up and down like a child who had just won a treasured prize. She had Tobias mesmerized, and her eyes landed on him; he was smiling. Not any smile, but that smile that made his dimples stand out, where his eyes crinkled, and then she'd just melt. She quickly looked away. She had to. She may have been loathe to admit it, but she was well aware of the effect that smile had on her, and no. There was no way she was going there.  “And you haven’t even seen the tree lit up at night yet,” she said, attempting self-distraction. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!”

“Wait, you’re not gonna gloat?”

“No,” she smiled. “I’m just so happy to see you experiencing this all for the first time... to share it with you. I wanted you to feel the magic, too.”

“Oh, trust me, Casey, I feel it. This is something I'll never forget."

They arrived at the Town Hall tree, and once again, Tobias was forced to surrender. “Wow! OK. I’m giving up completely... your tree wins.”

“Ha!” she yelled, nudging his shoulder with hers. “I told you so!”

“Hey, what happened to no gloating!”

She looked up at him with a devilish glint. “Can you just give me this, Carrick?"

He hoped his eyes would not betray him. I would give you anything, he thought but settled with saying, "Sure. You can have this."

“Thank you! I mean, it is the greatest Christmas tree in the world, so..."

“Yeah, no,” a booming voice shouted out from behind, bursting the little bubble they had created

Casey turned around with a cocked brow and hand on her hip. Her Philly attitude is on full display. “Excuse me?” she challenged.

“I mean, this is nice and all, but if you want to see the best in the world, ya gonna have to head to New York."

Crossing her arms in defiance, she glared at the entirely too-tall stranger. "I don’t believe you.”

“Have you ever seen it?”

“Uhm, no... not in person.”

“Then you can’t judge, can you?" The man smirked. "I’m a New Yorker. TRUST me on this.”  

“Well, if it’s so great... what are you doing here?”

“Ehh… my wife is from Philly,” he shrugged. “I have to indulge her every now and again.”

“Well, how kind of you,” Casey replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Hey,” the man chuckled jovially, “Happy wife, happy life.  And, while New York may have the best Christmas tree, I will concede Philly has the best women!” He slapped Tobias on the shoulder with such force he had to stop himself from stumbling forward. “Isn’t that right, buddy?”

Casey and Tobias turned to each other, deer caught in the headlights. Casey’s wit seemed to drain from her, along with the color on her face, as Tobias turned back to the man, trying to recover.

“While I don’t disagree with you, she’s not my wife... not even my girlfriend... we’re just friends.”

Casey didn't understand the way her throat clenched or why her eyes filled with water at his words, but the man took a long look at her, then Tobias, and smiled. "“Well, I’d get to work on that if I were you, pal. Capiche? Happy Holidays, you two.”

Casey’s cheeks were redder than the bows adorning the massive tree, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Unable to look at Tobias, she peered down at her Uggs as if they had an answer. Wiggling her toes in the soft fleece, she struggled for something to say. But as she looked away, Tobias's eyes never left her. He could have been honest about his feelings, or he could have uttered any of the dozen bad jokes he had at the ready to defuse the situation, but he couldn't do either. Honesty wasn't an option, but neither was lying about his true feelings. There was a wall of fire burning between them, but neither would risk getting burned.

“I have an idea,” he said, attempting to put them both at ease.

“What’s that?” Casey asked gratefully.

“Let’s put this ‘greatest Christmas tree of all’ thing to rest once and for all.  What do you say we swing by New York on the way home tomorrow.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t joke about things like this.”

Casey bit her lip as she smiled. “I’d love to!”

“So we have a plan for tomorrow! But what do you want for the rest of the night?”

“Let’s take a ride down 13th Street. You have to see those lights! They don't call it the Miracle on 13th Street for nothing! Then... cookies and a movie at the hotel? If we’re adding New York to the itinerary, we should probably rest up.”

“If medicine doesn’t work out for you, you have a career as a cruise director, kid,” he grinned. “Let’s go.”

An hour later, they sat on the couch in their hotel room, a bowl of popcorn and a plateful of cookies within reach as they watched “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Exhausted, Casey had to lie down, placing her feet on Tobias’s lap. Unsure how to react, he rested his hand atop her ankle and exhaled when she didn't balk.

Look, Daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. That's right, that's right!

The movie concluded and delivered a lump the size of coal in TObias's throat. “You know, I am man enough to admit... that damn line gets me every time.”

But Casey didn’t answer; she had fallen fast asleep.  With a tender smile, Tobias slipped off the couch to retrieve a blanket. There was no sense waking her. After tucking it around her, he leaned over to place the most delicate kiss atop her head.

“Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered before heading to bed. "Sweet dreams."

~~~~~

Casey was absolutely giddy when she hopped into Tobias’s car the next morning.

“I can’t believe we’re going to New York, too! This has been the greatest trip,” she enthused. “It really feels like Christmas, doesn’t it, T?”

“It sure does,” he softly smiled.

“How long is the drive?” She asked

“Once we’re on the NJ Turnpike, we’re looking about two hours.”

“Great!” she beamed. “That gives us plenty of time for holiday music!”

They made it ten minutes before Mariah Carey belted out of the surround sound in Tobias's car. (Can one really go longer than that without hearing Mariah during this season?) Casey amped up the volume, and then it happened! Her voice may have been off-key; her “seat dancing” technique was nothing anyone would ever wish to emulate, but she grabbed her empty coffee cup as an improvised microphone and gave one hell of a performance for her imaginary crowd. Meanwhile, her live audience of one was grinning from ear to ear.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need Don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree I don’t need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace Santa Claus won’t make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is yoooooooooouuuuuuuuuuu.”

“You’re gonna give Mariah a run for her money,” Tobias chuckled. 

“Really,” Casey winced. “I’m pretty sure she’d tell me to keep my day job…. Well, once I’m back at my day job."

“Hey! You’re getting closer every day,” he reassured. “You’ll be back to Ethan driving you bonkers in no time.”

“Hmm. When you put it that way it sounds odd to say I hope so, but I do hope so. Still, until then, I have a gig in this car and I take my obligations very seriously!"

She looked up at him with an endearing smile. "Don't worry! I promise to buy you a huge bottle of Advil as soon as we hit the City!”

“No need,” he laughed, pointing to his glove compartment. “There are some in there, but I don’t need them.”

“Good,” Casey smiled. “Next up, Santa Claus is Coming to Town!”

She began singing the song, a la Bruce Springsteen, but she had no idea how much Tobias agreed. Seeing Casey this happy? Santa was not coming to town, he had already arrived and delivered the greatest gift he had ever received.

Final stop coming up: New York! 🍎

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging Tobias Stans only - @alj4890 @kyra75 @coffeeheartaddict2 @brycesgirl @icecoffee90 @storyofmychoices

[rataticaisdreaming]

day 2 - fusion @intrualityweek

Summary: When Remus and Patton can’t stop fighting, the mind decides to give them a chance to be in each other's shoes.

Pairing: Platonic Intruality (he/him for both)

Word Count: 1397

Warnings: Verbal fights / Hurt/Comfort / Intrusive thoughts / Remus being Remus / Cursing / Mention of sex

“Those are awful things, Remus! You should think of more cheerful… innocent stuff!"

"Oh yeah, because everyone wants to live in Care-A-Lot, daddy-o."

It has been like this for weeks now. Patton getting more and more distressed at Remus’ outbursts, which have been more common ever since the last major issue Thomas faced. Their fights seemed personal and within their own bubble, seeing as they were right next to each other. Janus and Roman had no problem ignoring them, it was so childish and unnecessary that not even Virgil was affected by this. It was getting annoying though. Once everyone left those two to bicker alone, Patton frowned and sank down to his room. The duke was so unsettling! It wasn't so difficult to keep your thoughts to yourself and keep things nice and decent.

Throwing himself to the stuffie filled couch, he reached for an old blanket and his Tender Heart teddy bear. A wave of sadness filled him, tears silently fell from his cheeks into the blanket he was holding so close. Everything felt like too much.

He hated arguments so much. The loud voices and negative feelings made him feel so small and overwhelmed. The need to just get out, get out, get out. How he closed his eyes and just prayed the tears wouldn't come out, this is not the time for big emotions. He just wanted to hide and make the feelings go away.

━

Well, fuck him. There he goes again with his big mouth and inability to just shut the fuck up!

No one wants to hear you anyways.

He is trying! He really is! Just spit out the mild ones so his head guts will be at ease until he comes back to his room. That’s exactly what he did… then why was today so difficult?!

You were never meant to be one of them.

And why the fuck is his brain not shutting the fuck up?! He just wanted some rest for God's sake.

You should impale yourself with the bed's wooden poles. 

Just get in a onesie, what if you get tangled up and suffocate?

Get in bed and under the blankets, you should have hate sex with the others.

Hug your emotional support octopus stuffie and feel them hug you back… oh, the ways they could crush you to death.

Just close your eyes… It will be okay in the morning.

Except it won't be. It will be this over, and over, and over again until you die. Alone and in pain and no one will care about you…

━

"We need Patton. It's clear to me this issue needs his emotional expertise."

A quick hand gesture is all Logan needed to make the moral side rise in his spot. Eyes shut tight and in clear distress, softly bouncing on his heels.

"Sorry kiddo, your old man just needed a little rest. Felt more tired than a hooker after an orgy."

What… in the world?

The room falls silent and everyone is suddenly looking at him. Roman and Virgil look at each other stunned, eyes so big they seem ready to pop out. Janus scoffs in disbelief, like he finally heard how much of a petty bitch he is. Logan adjusts his tie, looking down at the floor, maybe he’ll find his worth somewhere in the dust. Thomas looks like he just saw a puppy being shot in front of him. 

Wow, this little mind of his is not slowing down, is it?

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't know why I said that… must be reaaally out of it! Maybe I just need some coffee and breakfast to get myself back on track." he said, awkwardly tiptoeing his way to the kitchen.

No one knew how to react to what just happened, so Roman spoke first.

“Maybe all that time with my brother is messing with him, speaking of him.” he said as he summoned Remus with an annoyed frown “Where is my copy of Princess and the Frog?”

Remus rose in his spot and stared at his twin like a deer in headlights, after a few seconds, he answered.

“I'm pretty sure I placed it back on the shelf.” he said, timidly hugging himself.

“Well, it's not there!”

The escalating tone made Remus flinch and look away, that seemed to be the wrong thing, because Roman spoke again.

“I swear in the holy name of Julie Andrews, Remus, if you did something to it…"

"I promise I didn't! I- I'm sure I placed it on the shelf, maybe I can help you find it! Just… Please lower your tone." 

Roman was taken back by his response, his brother looked on the verge of tears. He has never seen the duke express himself like that. Weirded out was an understatement,

Before he could say anything, Patton came back and…

"Well, I can safely say the dishwasher liquid does not, in fact, taste like lemon and oranges."

Something was wrong.

━

"You will not leave this couch until you figure out what happened, do I make myself clear?"

It had been ten minutes since Logan left them there. Ten full minutes of distressed bouncing on his seat, eyes shut as he tried his hardest not to voice his thoughts. After what felt like an hour, Patton couldn’t take it anymore.

"Remus, all these thoughts… are they yours?" he said in a small voice Remus barely heard. "They are horrible…"

“I know they are!” he yelled, causing Patton to flinch. Upon seeing the reaction, the creative side broke down.

"I hate all of this! It all feels like too much!”

Patton’s knowing smile made him feel warm and troubled. A question popped into his head. He scooched over a little bit and started to fidget with his sparkly sleeves.

“Do you feel like this all the time?"

Patton looked up and sighed.

"Mhm" 

"Do you get these thoughts all the time?"

Remus looked up with slightly red eyes.

"Yeah…"

"I never realized how much pain you were actually in… I thought you said those things to annoy us…" he started, receiving a soft laugh from the duke "But they are like a swarm! I need- I need them out!"

“Shh, it's okay. They will calm down, here, tug this string."

The moral side did with a tired hand, when he let go, a soft “quack” came out of nowhere. A tiny duck dropped from the air into his lap.

"Heh… And where did this little guy come from?"

“Little gift.”

A small giggle escaped from Patton’s lips and he changed his posture, visibly calmer and less tense. After working some courage, Remus decided to speak as well.

"I never knew you were feeling this much… It's suffocating. Every emotion feels fucking intense and it hurts! How do you live like this?"

"I just do… Comes with being the heart, I guess. My room helps me, it calms me down when it gets too much."

"Huh. Do you think I could… hang out there sometime?"

"Sure! Janus and Logan have been very insisting on the whole "finding a distraction" thing. We could do a puzzle together or watch a show."

"Yeah… I'd like that."

━

It has been like this for weeks now. Remus learning to use his inner voice, mindful of how loud noises impact the other’s emotions. Patton started to listen to Remus' ideas and ignored the ones that were plainly intrusive thoughts.

By the end of an afternoon discussion, they were already looking at each other in anticipation.

They sank down and arrived at Patton's living room. There was an unfinished puzzle on the coffee table as well as board game boxes laying on the side of it. Remus picked the neon green notebook and glitter pen and sat down next to the moral side.

They summoned popcorn, sodas and m&ms. Even some lemon slices for Remus. Whenever he got unwanted thoughts, he would write them down. Patton would hug his teddy bear, as a silent sign that they needed to slow down for a bit, when the emotions got too intense.

It was working for them. They also made a mental note to never anger the mind again. It would be fantastic to see Roman get all of Virgil's anxiety, but Remus was a good brother and decided to write that thought down for now.

[xxxdegenerate]

22. Rengoku Kyojuro.

I don't think man can dance. I firmly believe in my heart he has all the intentions and passion in the world but he's stiff as a board with two left feet. Unlike his grace when fighting, he never really had much opportunity to learn or practice dancing, so I imagine he wouldn't be very experienced. Reader doesn't care though, they love him that way. And he loves them, will take any and every opportunity to hold them and make them smile even if he looks and feels a little silly (and vice versa!!!).

So they dance (reader's skills tbd, honestly doesn't matter). One person convinces the other, maybe as a way to cheer them up, who is who doesn't matter. It can be anywhere. Their home on their own. At a festival. Their wedding. Modern AU anything.

It's cute, it's warm, it's all smiles and blushy cheeks and bright eyes as your fingers interlace, swaying and turning.... Pure, easy intimacy. Fluff and/or hurt/comfort at its best. I just want to give this man as much domestic happiness as possible, he deserved so much more.

Wait that's actually so cute and yeah he deserves the whole world man.

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

❥note ;; I don't know if you meant you wanted it as a modern one, but this will be like a festival type thing, and Rengoku is upset because he doesn't know how to convey his feelings for you. So you give him a little push. Also heads up, he survived the mugen train arc, but was really hurt. ❥contents//tw ;; honestly none, maybe a few curses, kisses? // not proofread

"Dance with me."

Kyojuro and you had always had a complicated past. After the whole mission he had with who you found out was an upper moon demon. You felt terrible. You noticed how he became slightly distant towards you and you were determined to figure it out.

There was a festival in the nearest town later in the evening and everyone was going. Mitsuri had told you he was going to be there as well. This was what you needed.

Having trouble even going up to him or talk to him the past two weeks have been rough. So you needed to catch him off guard.

You dressed in a fiery red kimono with a white bow tied around your waist. You also wore a red charm in your hair, which was tied up neatly. Thanks to the help of Shinobu.

You entered the town and looked around in awe. The sun was setting and the lights were simmering ever so slightly. This place was beautiful.

Remembering why you were here you decided to look around the food stalls for the flame hashira. He seemed stressed, like he was running from something. You heard from Shinobu that as soon as he was able to walk, he was practicing and back fighting again.

This left you a bit unsettled, you hoped you could talk some sense into him. Especially since Shinobu also mentioned he had hurt himself countless times while training. He shouldn't be pushing himself. And it pained you to even think about him doing so.

You walked around for a little longer before you see his bright hair poking out in one of the restaurants. He sat with Tengen and his wives.

He smiled. Oh his smile. You couldn't help but smile too. It was always so bright and filled with emotion. You walked over.

"Hey! Uzui's and Kyojuro." Kyojuro immedietly avoided you and moved around in his seat, as if he was anxious.

"Well, I think my wives and I will be going to get some drinks!" Tengen stood up, lighting tapping your back in encouragement. Whispering low enough for you to hear.

"Take care of him okay?" He helped his wives and went on his way.

You took Tengen's seat, which was in front of Kyojuro.

"Kyojuro?" You looked at him. He was looking down at the food, which he picked at. Something unlike him.

"Are you doing alright? You haven't really talked to me the past couple weeks." You brought up. It pained you to see he seemed to not want to be around you.

"I'm fine." Frowning at his response you stole one of his california rolls. "Hey-"

"What's up with you." Narrowing your eyes at the owl eyed man. He finally looked up at you and held eye contact. His fire like eyes, sparked.

"Nothing is wrong I ju-" He seemed bothered so you cut him off.

"Walk with me?" You stood up and held your hand. The music around the town was loud, but not too loud. It was perfect. A walk could do you both good.

He looks up at you and smiles. He couldn't help it. He missed you. Even in fear of his own thoughts, he missed your smile, your laugh, and the way your eyes lit up any room you walked into.

"Absolutely." He interlocks his hand with yours.

And so the two of you were walking, hands connected in silence. Even if there was no conversation between him and you. You felt at ease. You missed this too. But you couldn't help but still feel off. The way he wasn't smiling as much, and just looking off into space. As if you were not there.

You looked around the town. People were laughing and dancing. You had an idea.

"Kyojuro!" You jumped in front of him, startling him. "Dance with me?" You looked at him and he brought a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing awkwardly.

"I haven't danced in a long time."

"Come onnn." You tug at his hand and bring him towards where the others were waltzing.

The music was slow. Pulling Kyojuro closer, placing a hand in his once more. Lacing your fingers with his own. Another hand rested on his shoulder. He looked lost as he held his free hand up.

"Uhm.."

You laughed. And he watched. You threw your head back slightly before looking back at him. Taking his free hand you place it on your waist. A light pink dusted his cheeks. "You hold here okay?"

He stood awkwardly and stiff. You noticed this and couldn't help but smile at him. He was usually so chill and flowing with his movements. Yet he couldn't dance?

"You seem stiff hot stuff." You joked around earning a soft chuckle to erupt from him. "I never learned how to dance like this." He admitted shamefully.

Even if he didn't, he loved being close to you again. You've shared hugs before, but this felt different. In a good way.

"Oops, my apologies!" A man had bumped into Kyojuro causing him to stumble closer to you and tighten his grip. A warm feeling rose in your chest and your cheeks felt aflame.

You giggled softly before moving slowly. "Follow my lead."

Although he stepped on your toes a couple times, and lost rhythm, you had fun.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, swaying slowly to the music. "Why did you ignore me for so long...?"

He stayed silent for a minute. "I felt weak." You frowned and cocked your head back to look at him. E/c eyes meeting his own blood orange ones.

The music suddenly speeds up a bit and the two of you start turning. Holding eye contact. "You are not weak." Mumbling out before turning your head down to watch his feet, careful to avoid his missing steps.

"I could have died Y/n." A great sentence to shove a knife through your heart. Your eyes tear up. Grateful you looked down. "But you didn't, you were strong enough."

"Barely." A wave of awkward silence fell.

"I missed you." You mumble. He removes your laced hands to bring it up under your chin, pulling you back to look into his eyes. It hurt him to see your eyes so watery and glossed over.

"I'm sorry." He mutters. "I just didn't know how to come to you, I was scared. What if I'm too weak to protect you one day?"

You melted. "Kyojuro.."

"Fuck." He loved the way his name rolled of your tongue, how it rang in his ears.

"I just love you so much Y/n. I want to be by your side, to protect you.. but what if I can't? What if you get hurt." You swore you could hear your heartbeat in your ears from his confession.

He was nervous, but he was telling you. Scared of rejection, for he could be too weak for you.

"I love you too Kyojuro. You are not weak, we'll fight together. We'll do lots together, on the days you are weak I will be stronger. For you." You smiled, tears threatening to spill. He deserved so much, you could never understand if anyone ever hated this man. He was the warmest, kindest, and selfless man you have ever met.

His thumb wiped the tears and he pulled you into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around you. By now the two of you had stopped spinning around, just swaying slowly back and forth.

"I missed you too and I'm terribly sorry I couldn't have much confidence to approach you." His hand rubbed up and down your back.

"I forgive you. But please, don't ever do that again. It hurt to see you smile with others." He heart ached at your words, he regretted ever doing what he did. "I promise."

You look into his eyes and he leans down. His breath softly hitting your lips. You closed your eyes, awaiting a kiss.

Nothing. You crack open one eye and realize he's admiring you. "Kyojuro if you don't kiss me right now-" He cut you off the moment he knew he could kiss you. The kiss felt meaningful, it was soft and in sync, unlike the dance the two of you shared. His lips were rough, not too rough. Yours were soft. He wish he had done this sooner, but oh was the wait worth it.

The feel you melting into his arms, into his lips. He smiled and pulled back. "I love you."

"You suck at dancing by the way."

[murdocking]

„ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ”

-a chishiya series ch7 ch9

masterlist

warnings + notes: nothing really besides canon events (a death) and a chapter filled with nothing lawlz … but we gna hit s2 soon and its gna be straight ‘friends to enemies to forced proximity to conflicted to lovers’ if i can commit to it. sorry for the late update ive been sick for months and debated creating a will.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ

- WITH EASE

aguni seems different, more distant from his reality than normal, and it confuses you to no end. while of course you never shared a word with him- he still had basic ethics of nodding to you in passing. now, he stares into space- only meeting eyes to share a threat. it’s unsettling.

you can recall just how sharp his features were when he entered the conference room, niragi following suit. and then arisu accompanying chishiya, whos eyes never left the wooden flooring- scanning his thoughts. you were simply passing by when the exec meeting was called, but just watching him pass by left you dry in your throat.

it had only been a short amount of time, from meeting, to companionship, to a complete shutout. and you had some suspicions, though you’d be too scared to admit it.

but you missed him, as awful as it was to say. kuina was nice, considerate, and patient - everything chishiya seemingly wasn’t. but you cant believe this fully

to you, he wasn’t as cold and displaced from emotion as he tries to come off as. you could tell he cared- he was tender and observant with you, but not enough to indulge.

but you wanted that.

you can hear shuffling outside your door.

zipping up your jacket, you crack the creaking door open to peek at the noise.

you spot the duo there. they whisper so low- you would think it was just the air circulating through the vents above. chishiya stands straight as he converses quietly with arisu- something is wrong.

he sharply turns his head at the continued noise of your room door, and his eyebrows lift up when he spots you. you can feel a breath halt- he dismisses the conversation between the other two and quickly resorts to approaching you

“is something wrong?” he questions

“no, just was gonna… get some food but. seems like i interrupted something “ you reply, not exactly a total lie

he hums, rolling his shoulders back slightly while meeting your eyes. “well, seems like things are taking a turn to say the least” he speaks casually, but you can tell something uneases him

“i see.”

he just stands there, unmoving- and his bland expression meets your sour one.

its very awkward- speaking to him like this. you bite your cheek, and can feel the hallway walls shrink a little as he squints his eyes staring into your soul.

“whats going on chishiya..”

his following words are nearly as silent as the wind

“hatter is dead”

hatter is dead, seemingly suiting your fittingly dead friendship with chishiya- your messenger as of now.

“so what is to happen now…” but this time-arisu moves, no longer silent

“we need to watch out. the militants will run rampant now”

“its only a matter of time” chishiya says, quite ominously. and youre not sure if hes referring to the hellfire soon to erupt, or his betrayal against his own people.

you and arisu share a cold blood rush, eyeing as chishiya rolls his shoulders slightly to turn to face arisu

“arisu. i have to attend the commencement, kuina will meet with you soon to prepare.”

arisu gets startled slightly before nodding, and walking off down the hall towards the stairs.

“chishiya…”

he views you from the corner of his eye

“what are you truly planning?” he freezes slightly

“a takeover.”

he lies to you once more.

today, your fake sun shines brighter on your back. you’re sitting, stirring the watered down juice sloshed into your glass cup from your chair against the lobby’s windows. the girls behind you- who normally shamelessly giggled and posed seductively for their flings, are as stiff as a board as boys you can only recognize as militants take privilege in running their hands on them. the pool is relatively empty, sparing the scattered floaties that lack a user. youre sick of the overactive mind youve adopted. now- you stare at your sheer reflection in the window, hardly recognizing yourself with how dry and ragged your skin has turned. somehow, your paler but tanned- in a way you can only describe as sickly. interrupting your self consultation however, is the sight of kuina by herself- scanning the above levels of the lobby’s open space. this interests you.

from the depths of the leering hallway, you spot chishiya- emerging with two black items in his hands.

walkie talkies

hes right, it was only a matter of time.

not long after the two separated, a general meeting was announced in the large room- all beach members gathering in a huddle to stare up at the group of executives and militants who seemed more confident than before.

however, much to your expectations..

arisu and usagi are missing.

kuina takes ownership of a supporting lobby pillar set in the corner, seemingly tired of the situation. you can tell its for show though, as chishiya only has one hand in his jacket, and the other on his pant pocket from his stance above.

however, the bomb gets dropped

“aguni is your new leader !” niragi proclaims, mocking the expressions of the confusion people on the ground floor

“shouldn’t… it be kuzuryuu?” a man says to you, and you nod absentmindedly- your eye meeting chishiya whos lip turns upward.

“something is wrong with this.”

you’re barely paying attention to the following words your ‘leaders’ say. with a wave of nausea taking over, you see chishiya moving further from the crowd- lifting his hand to speak into the device.

there’s no way chishiya could’ve planned for this situation days in advanced. something is very wrong, and you know chishiya doesn’t avoid risk. let alone sacrifice.

you push past the people in the crowded room- escaping the eyes of the riled up executives- to search for the missing duo.

you decide to look in the conference room, and you step up the stairs, hoping the soft soles of your slippers muffle out your hurried walk.

you don’t see- nor hear usagi or arisu. but you hear movement. a set of it above you.

hatters lounge?

you waste no time, but when you arrive to the hallway- you see youre too late- and your suspicions towards chishiya were entirely confirmed.

every person outside of the room holds guns in their hands, strapped into their clothes, and you can hear usagis sobs and pleads as they carry her fighting body.

he set them up.

it was all a trap.

you decide that however you feel about your blonde friend doesn’t matter at this point, rather- you need to focus on the next move. you take solace in an indent in the hallway, hiding your presence to the beach leaders as they guffaw and loudly mock the two traitors. you know they’ll meet their deaths soon.

chishiya on the other hand, walks away- in thought and swelled with emotion he has never harbored. until he walks by your hideout- turning to see your face

he sees nothing but hate staring back at him, and though he thought he smiled at you- truly he knows he frowns at your switch in emotion towards him. he has destroyed your trust, and relationship.

you refuse to let him ruin others.

[fio-renze]

A yawning void of silence filled the Grand Magister’s office, punctuated by the occasional slow turn of a page as he reviewed the documentation she had prepared for this moment. Her fluid thalassian script spelled out line after line of justification — hadn’t she served her time? 

Of course, ‘her time’ was truly uncharted waters. She’d killed two nobles, her parents, even if one was self defense and the other an accidental fumbling with magics she didn’t quite ken, it was still a crime usually punishable by death. Instead Rommath had thrown her a noose of another kind. She’d been terribly useful as his spy within the court of what nobles remained after the siege of the city and fall of the monarchy for a couple of decades. 

“Miss Sunmote,” 

That was a punch to the gut in its own right. 

“Or do you still style yourself as ‘Lady’? I had heard the magistrates gave leave for you to use the title, even if there is nothing left of it to hold,” his steady voice gave nothing away as he set the papers down on his desk. 

Fiorenze folded her hands in her lap and did her best to find a calm center; it wouldn’t do for her anxiety to run away with her, not here. He hadn’t used her other title. The one she technically still held, higher than ‘Miss’ or ‘Lady’ of an estate that no longer existed. 

The one she was trying to divest. 

They were both calculating people, and it was an omission he’d made on purpose to unsettle her. She swallowed thickly to try and move past how dry her mouth had gone, “We’ve known each other for a terribly long time now, Grand Magister. I would prefer for you to use Fiorenze, given the circumstances.” 

He hummed quietly in thought, and she imagined a slight frown behind his richly embroidered cowl, “And I would prefer to use Arch Magistrix Sunmote.” 

That didn’t bode well. She managed not to wince, something to be proud of later if she survived this. 

He settled back in his seat, gaze fixed firmly on her in a dangerous way, “Your request is declined. While well thought out and expressed you have failed to consider that I still have use for you, even if your time and reputation in the Court is over.” 

If he was surprised at all by her stunned silence he didn’t let it phase him a moment, “It has never been my intention to be cruel toward you, Fiorenze. You have served the Kingdom well through your service. Regardless of where you feel your failings are, you are clever, cunning and have always been a talented arcanist. The situation with your titles does not change that, it just means you actually have to work for the recognition against new peers who have put in more work.” 

She watched as he flicked a hand and cast a basic spell on her papers that caused them to flutter up into the air and roll up before tucking themselves away into a high shelf. That rope he’d thrown her countless times tightened again with his generous appraisal. “Will you tell me, then, when you feel I have done enough?” 

He nodded curtly, “I suppose that would be fair. It’s clear that your experimentation with highborne magics and the stresses of your legal issues of late have taken a toll, however. There is nothing I need from you presently, and it may be some time before I require your skills again.” 

It could be worse. She knew that there were many other potentially awful outcomes that could have resulted from her request, but his mercy still felt like a knife. A continued break didn’t have to be a bad thing, even if the eventual future call loomed terribly large. 

Fiorenze closed her eyes for a moment and took a calming breath as she nodded, “As you wish, Grand Magister.”

[blu-joons]

Post Gym Massage ~ Lee Hoseok

You threw yourself down on the sofa as soon as you walked into your apartment, groaning loudly at the pain that you felt in the back of your legs. Hoseok could only chuckle as you fell, walking through with ease, as if he hadn’t just spent well over an hour at the gym working his legs out.

You on the other hand were in agony, you had worked yourself out before, but never had you done a workout that Hoseok led. Before going to the gym with him, you were in awe of how hard he worked himself, but after spending some actual time at the gym with him, you were stunned by how hard he wanted to work you too.

Your legs were screaming at you the whole way home, each step was tentative, having to hold onto Hoseok’s arm to be able to support yourself. He was more than happy to give you a hand, taking things nice and slow so that you didn’t strain yourself.

“Same again tomorrow?” Hoseok teased as he made his way into the living room to join you, “if you want to go to the gym, then you’ve got to make sure that you go every day.”

You shot a glare across to him as you rolled over on the sofa to lay down on your back, allowing yourself to look at him properly and let him see the pain in your expression.

Hoseok offered you a smile before heading into your bedroom, leaving you alone. You weren’t quite sure what he was up to, hearing him bang around and fumble in the bedroom before appearing a few minutes later with a box in his hands.

“Reckon you can roll over onto your front?” Hoseok asked you as he placed the box down on the coffee table, “I’ve got some old massage techniques that my trainer taught me, they might be able to help you out too.”

Your head nodded, placing your hands either side of yourself and slowly pulling yourself up. Hoseok placed his hands on your hips to help support you, slowly turning you over, feeling sympathetic as he listened to you groan at the discomfort that you felt.

Once you were laid on your front, Hoseok helped to roll your gym leggings up so that your calves were on show, placing his hands tentatively down on them. Straight away a gasp came from you as he managed to catch the exact spot that was troubling you.

“What can you do to try and take the pain away?” You nervously asked him.

Hoseok turned to his box, pulling out a couple of things. “You know how you always watch with excitement when I get my massage gun out, now it’s your turn.”

“That thing looks like it could break a bone rather than fix any sort of pain in a human body.”

Hoseok chuckled across to you as he switched it on, pushing down on the button to show you how it worked. He could see a little bit of nerves in your expression as Hoseok shuffled towards you to make sure that he could concentrate.

“It’s alright, it’s not going to hurt you,” he calmly assured you.

Your head nodded, trusting that Hoseok knew what he was doing, “it’s your fault that my legs are hurting, you better take this pain away too.”

“Once the pain goes, you’ll be glad about how hard I worked you and how much stronger you’ll be.”

Your conversation was broken by the feeling of the massage gun coming into contact with your left calf, slowly moving along it to make sure that it hit the spots that Hoseok knew often troubled people, running along each individual muscle.

“Just relax,” Hoseok called out to you as he swapped onto your other calf, still noticing a look of unsettlement that was in your eyes.

Your head nodded, laying perfectly still as Hoseok massaged over your other leg, concentrating greatly to make sure that he could help you out, and most of all try and take some of the pain that you were feeling away too.

After a few minutes, the gun turned off, filling you with relief. A chuckle came from Hoseok as your eyes looked around, softening when you saw that he was beginning to place the massage gun away and back in its box.

“How does that feel?” He asked you, pulling himself off of the floor, lifting your legs up carefully so that he could sit himself beside you on the sofa.

A hiss came from you as Hoseok moved your legs before placing them in his lap. “My legs still kind of feel like they’re vibrating, that thing is surprisingly powerful.”

“It helps me out a lot.”

“I hope it helps me too.”

“I’ve got another idea of something that I can do to help you too,” he grinned, “shuffle a little closer towards me and I’ll be able to give it a go.”

You did as Hoseok said, trusting him like usual and shuffling into his side. Hoseok helped to move you closely into his side, bending your legs a little bit so that he was able to get his hands underneath your legs and against your calves.

“The massage gun might be good, but for me, nothing can beat the feeling of hands massaging against muscles,” Hoseok grinned, beginning to move his hands against your legs in slightly tough circular motions.

It was exactly what you needed as you rested your head down against Hoseok’s broad shoulder. The tension soon began to ease, hitting the right spot to ease the pain that you felt in the source of your suffering, sighing in relief.

“Is this doing the trick?” Hoseok proudly asked you.

A hum came from you in delight, “you already know how much of a fan I am of your hands, but I am especially now.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle in reply to you, for once finding himself lost for words. Hoseok was lucky that your head was down on his shoulder as he felt his cheeks slightly darken as he found himself blushing at your words.

“I still think you should give the gym another go,” he suggested, feeling your body stiffen. “The first couple of workouts are always painful, but after a few visits your body will be used to it, and it won’t hurt anymore.”

“I struggle to see a point when a workout by you won’t work.”

“Maybe if you come back tomorrow, I’ll go a little easier on you,” Hoseok promised, continuing to massage against the back of your legs, “why don’t you give me one more chance, and I promise that it won’t hurt as much.”

“If it hurts this much tomorrow, then you have to promise to give me a massage like this again,” you told him, laying down your terms to agree to go back to the gym.

Straight away, Hoseok’s head nodded, more than happy to repeat his massage for you, feeling a sense of pride knowing that he was the one that was taking your pain away.

“Once we’re done here, I’ll run you a bath and that should help ease some of the pain too,” Hoseok offered, “a warm soak will do you the world of good.”

“I could get used to this,” you suddenly joked, “if going to the gym means that you’ll look after me like this every day, then the gym might not be such a bad idea.”

“You don’t need the gym for me to look after you.”

“I know, you always do take the best care of me.”

---

Masterlist

[luna-redamancy]

Fix It (Thorin x F!Reader) 18+ NSFW Commission

Thank you @anjhope1 for the Ko-fi! Here is your ko-fi commission! 

Note: The Thorin image as well as the divider is not mine. The Thorin image was originally posted by @thearkenstone-ck​ (I found it on pinterest, luckily the url is at the bottom right) and the dividers used are by @firefly-graphics​​ which can be found Here 

Warnings: Smut, angst, Thorin being an ass for a bit. 

⚠️18+ Content ahead, Please read at your own risk ⚠️

It wasn’t unknown to you that braids have significance, in fact that was the first conversation you ever had with Thorin upon him asking for your approval to court you- how important and vital the braid was. How each placement of the strands of hair was significant, how by tilting the braiding outward you can declare a budding love, but inward you can declare a passing of something, such as a birthright. 

‘Yet how did this happen?’ You mentally scolded yourself as you watched each passing dwarf look at you like you were a conundrum. You knew it had to have been your hair. It was Muhudtuzakhmerag, or Spring Fest, in Erebor and Thorin requested you wear a traditional ‘Queen’s Braid’ to the event to walk alongside him. 

The request itself was simple, and sweet of him, to want you to participate like the queens before you, however, there was not a single portrait of what the said braids looked like. So you simply went by your best educated guess coupled with the old instructions written on ancient parchment that looked like it was going to fall apart any moment now. 

The festival would begin with the giving of the straw. First, Thorin would place a strand of the straw into your hair, and you into his tunic pocket. This was to symbolize the true connection and reliance the dwarves had with nature. The next event was the ‘Carrying of the Straw’ where you and Thorin would lead a line of dwarves through the kingdom, assisting each other in carrying a barrow of straw to the feast room. All to honor Yavana, Mahal’s wife who originally gave the first dwarves their first straw of barley. 

To say this event was huge for the dwarves would be an understatement. And, with this knowledge, you had hoped to look your best for Thorin. 

As soon as you entered the throne room to meet with Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin before the event, you knew you messed up royally. 

“(Y/n)...” Balin began gently, before Thorin’s angry voice startled you. 

“What in Mahal have you done?” Thorin wasn’t shouting, but his fists were clenched like he was desperately trying not to. 

“I tried my best to follow the instructions, is it that awful?” You looked at Balin and Dwalin, your eyebrows furrowed and your expression hurt at Thorin’s tone of voice. “What did I do wrong?” You asked the elderly dwarf, in hopes he would be able to give you advice before Thorin began speaking again. 

“Everything.” He spat, shaking his head with a humorless chuckle as he began to pace the throne room floor. 

“Lass,” Balin began before Thorin held his hand up, “Don’t speak to her.” 

“The one time I request for you to do something specific and you can’t even get that right!” Thorin shouted, making you flinch as you stood back, your eyes beginning to fill with tears. 

“I knew it was a mistake to ever court you, I never loved you to begin with.” 

A gasp left your throat, “T-Thorin…” You felt your heart sink to your stomach. He regretted loving you, courting you, marrying you, all because of one braid? 

“I can fix it,” You offered, your tone showing how close to the verge you were to breaking into tears, wanting to appease him so he wasn’t so angry with you. 

“You can’t fix being human,” He huffed, “I knew a low human would never be able to meet the standards of being the queen of Erebor. If I could turn back time and never let you join this journey, I would---”

“Thorin, enough.” Dwalin all but growled at him. “It is just a braid, you can re-do it for her.” Dwalin tried to reason but Thorin let out a humorless chuckle. “You can re-do a braid, but you cannot redo or undo the damage that has been done. She has shown she does not care about our culture or our practices.”

Looking to Balin, you suppressed a sob as tears went down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” You told him, eyes full of regret and pain as you quickly took the pins holding the braid in place out, the metal clanging as it hit the stone floor. 

“Lassie, it’s alright,” He began to soothe you but you shook your head.

“I’m so sorry,” You repeated shaking your head, exiting the room, with your hand up to your mouth to attempt to muffle the gasps leaving your throat as you continued to suppress the sobs threatening to escape. 

“Thorin what have you done?!” Balin shouted at him as soon as you fled the room, glaring at the boy he watched grow up in these stone walls. 

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

“You will come to regret it. Don’t you realize you just told your wife that you despised her?” 

“I don’t have time to deal with this, we have a festival to lead.” Thorin brushed past both of them to go grab his crown for the festivities. 

As you put on a plain slip and slid into bed, you felt hot tears bubble down your face. He didn’t love you. All because you were human. Your heart ached as you heard the cheering, the Broken Bone Race being completed and the victor being given a medal, Thorin’s laugh trickling into your ears despite the many voices you have heard. That made you begin to sob as you clutched the pillow. 

“He doesn’t love me…” You murmured to yourself, wiping your tears. “He wants a dwarrowdam.” You felt your heart clench as those words passed your lips. 

Sitting up, you sniffled, wiping your eyes almost aggressively as you put on a robe. Maybe something in the library could help you with your love issues. 

Thorin couldn’t deny the worry in his heart as he searched the halls of Erebor for you a few days later. Upon returning from the festivities, Thorin wasn’t too concerned with your absence, figuring you needed time alone from the blow-up that occurred in the throne room, but when it was the third day that he hadn’t seen you at any meals, your very presence and being missing from his day to day activities such as your walks together, he knew something was wrong. 

His gut twisted as he walked down another corridor, before halting in his steps. “(Y/n)?” He breathed out, confused at the sight of you. You were dressed in the average dwarrowdam fashion, your hair up in braids like every other dwarrowdam he had come across. 

It wasn’t you. 

“Yes?” You cut straight to the point as you turned from your discussion with an advisor, and seeing Thorin’s dumbfounded expression, you excused the gentleman as you turned fully toward him. “What is it that you need, Thorin?” Your voice was cold, posture stiff as you stared him down with calculating eyes. 

It was like you were a different person altogether. 

“What happened to you?” Was all he could think to say. 

Tilting your head, you raised a brow at him. “What you wanted.” Was all you answered as you turned on your heel, leaving him in the stone hallway all alone as you went to speak with the advisor once more. 

Bursting through the doorway, Thorin’s voice caught the ears of the Company members fairly quickly. 

“There’s something wrong with (Y/n)!” He yelled out, completely unsettled by your appearance. He knew you preferred your hair loose, not confined by things, and how you liked to wear flowy dresses made by soft fabrics, not thick dresses weighed down with crystals and braided fabric tassels. 

“You finally noticed.” Dwalin scoffed, continuing to sharpen his blades, his disapproval of Thorin very clear. 

“Aye, it wasn’t like she was missing from your chambers for three whole days and four whole nights.” Balin’s tone was clearly passive aggressive as he handed out documents to each member. 

At Thorin’s lost expression, Balin chuckled bitterly. 

“You told her you didn’t love her, that you despised her because she was human and what did you expect her to do!” Balin finally lost it, throwing his papers across the room, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“She didn’t deserve that, Thorin!” Balin yelled, a tear going down his cheek. “All she wanted to do was make you happy and instead of applauding her effort and guiding her to the correct way, you belittled her! You ruined her self-esteem and told her she meant less than the dirt on your boots.”

“She didn’t deserve any of that… And now… Now you have the audacity to come in here like you did nothing wrong?” 

“I didn’t realize…” 

“You don’t seem to realize a lot of things, Thorin.” Balin huffed moving to pick up his papers as Fili, Kili, and Ori helped collect them from off the ground. 

“I have to do something.”

Bofur shook his head, “If she’d let you.” 

Thorin looked at him like he just grew two heads. 

Rolling his eyes, Bofur shook his head again. “You were an utter arse, Thorin. You expect some weepy apology is going to make her forget everything you said? How little your actions have done to prove you do indeed care for her?” 

“She’s lost weight, Thorin. She doesn’t come to meals, she hardly sleeps. And what do you notice? Oh, that she’s wearing a traditional dress.” Bofur’s sarcasm seeped through his tone. 

“Y’know, Thorin, I hope she doesn’t forgive you. I hope she doesn’t let her sorry excuse of a One back into her life.” Bofur’s words cut into Thorin, hitting him where it hurts most. And for a moment, Thorin wasn’t Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, king of Erebor. In this moment he was a young dwarrow being scolded. 

“But if you do somehow manage to weasel your way into her good graces, you better work your arse off to prove to her that you care for her.” 

“I will.” 

Bofur huffed through his nostrils as he went back to carving a wooden duck as if Thoin wasn’t even there. 

“You better go find her, then.” Dwalin nodded to Thorin, a small smile on his face was all Thorin needed to feel encouraged as he set off to go find you. 

Seeing Thorin for the first time in the past couple of days affected you more than you’d like to think, his harsh words being pulled from the back of your mind to the forefront, replaying in your head over and over. Instead of meeting with your advisor, you waited until Thorin was gone so you could go back to your room, the room you originally had before you and Thorin were wed. 

Looking into the mirror, you couldn’t help but criticize everything about yourself. Your braids weren’t as taught as how they were this morning. The gown made you look radiant this morning but now it felt like a bulky mess that you shouldn’t have attempted to wear. 

“Is it all for nothing?” You wondered as you stepped away from the vanity mirror and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“He didn’t even notice.” You scoffed, flopping backwards. 

The next morning, Thorin was adamant on approaching you. 

“Good morning, Dushin-Mizim (dark jewel).”

“Morning, King Thorin.” Your reply was short as you walked past him, your hair half braided today, and in a less formal traditional dwarvish gown. 

Thorin frowned, usually you’d kiss his cheek and say “Good morning, my love,” to him before he’d hold your hand and the two of you would walk together. Not that he blamed you for not doing so.

Instead of eating with him, you sat at the other end of the table, alone as you carefully ate your breakfast. 

Sighing, Thorin brought the water glass up to his lips. ‘I deserve this,’ he thought as he watched the way the sunlight filtered through the sky-lights, making a rim of light circle the top of your hair, making you look angelic. An ache began to settle in his chest, he missed you. 

He’s got to come up with a plan. 

“How was your day, Ghivashel (Treasure of all treasures)?” Thorin attempted to make conversation as you approached after exiting a meeting.

“Perfectly fine, King Thorin.” You responded icily as you walked past him, your face stoic until you moved where he couldn’t see your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you bit your lip. ‘Does he love me still?’ you pondered, but that thought was quickly squashed when you realized he began to act lovingly again once you were in dwarvish attire. ‘He loves the facade.’ you decided as you walked to your room. 

Looking in the mirror, you shook your head. “This isn’t me.” You murmured to yourself, while you had nothing against dwarrowdams, you knew this style of dress, this hairdo, it wasn’t yours. It didn’t suit you. You felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing, an imitator waiting to be revealed. 

Unravelling your hair, you sighed as your scalp was relieved of the taught pressure. Reaching behind you to unravel the laces of your bodice, you let out a relieved groan as you pulled the thick fabric off of you in favor of pulling on a light night gown. 

Returning to the mirror you brushed your hair, refreshed to see it how it usually is. Free and relaxed. 

“I’m done pretending... “ You told yourself, nodding to your reflection. “I am (Y/n), a human.. Not a Dwarrowdam.” You felt tears build in your eyes, “and if Thorin wants one so bad, then so be it, but I will not erase myself for his pleasure.”

The next morning you felt alive again, as if someone had cleaned out the cobwebs of your chimney and lit the fire once more. Putting on a loose gown, you only brushed your hair, carefully placing oils where they were needed before looking in the mirror. You finally looked like yourself again. 

“Good morning, amrâlimê (My love).” Thorin called out to you as you exited your bedding chambers, making you pause in your stride.

“Good morning, King Thorin.” You responded blandly, watching as he analyzed you, your expression cool but your heart hammering inside of your chest. Would he say anything? Would he stop calling you the names you cherish close to your heart?

“You look radiant,” He smiled at you, before letting it drop, his expression turning serious. “I would like to have a talk with you, today, whenever you have time, of course.” He looked nervous as he spoke, something you hadn’t seen since the day he asked to put in your courting braid. 

“I’ll be free this evening,” You told him, curious as to what he needed to tell you. 

You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he nodded, like he was having an inner conversation before looking into your eyes. 

“Would you… Do me the honor of meeting me in the gardens this evening?” Thorin held his hands behind his back, nervously rubbing his thumb over the other one, just waiting for you to say no.  After all, he had to earn your trust again, to earn your love again. 

You paused, a ‘no’ quick to push itself to the tip of your tongue, but as you watched his eyes dart around your face, his eyebrow scrunched like how it always does when he’s worried, you felt your face soften. 

“I shall.” You chose to say instead, a smile threatening to lift your cheeks as he perked up like a puppy, a spark returning to his eye. 

“You won’t regret it, I promise.” He vowed, hesitating, like he was ready to give you a kiss before physically holding himself back. 

Coughing nervously, he nodded, “I will see you then.” 

You couldn’t deny the disappointment that bubbled in your chest as he walked away, you had hoped he would offer to walk you to breakfast. 

“Well with how you’re acting, don’t be surprised if he thinks you hate him now.” Your inner voice taunted but you shook your head, you had every right to be upset with him. 

The day seemed to drag on and on, and as you dragged your feet to the dining hall after your final meeting,  you remembered Thorin had wanted to see you. 

“The gardens,” You hummed to yourself as you headed that way, seeing petals of (favorite flower) being littered on the ground. Raising a brow, you followed them, a small smile growing on your face as you approached the entrance to the gardens. 

Thorin stood staring at the stars, his back turned and between you and him sat a table. Two plates, two chairs, two water glasses. 

“So your discussion was a date?” Your voice pulled Thorin from his thoughts, his head quickly swinging to face you. 

“Not exactly, no.” Thorin spoke quickly, as if your words scalded him like a hot pan. 

“If you do not wish to stay for the meal then I will not ask you to.” He began, gesturing to the seat. “But I will ask if you’d like to take a seat so you can be comfortable while we talk?”

Biting your lip, you let out a breath before chucking off your heels, your feet sinking into the cool grass as you approached the table. 

Thorin sighed in relief, believing you were going to turn your back and leave the minute he opened his mouth. 

“What is it you wished to talk about?” You questioned, your voice professional as you took a look around the gardens. Lanterns were placed all around the garden, giving the space an ethereal glow and if you listened hard enough you’d hear the gentle noises of the creek. 

“I would like to apologise.” Thorin stated, and the statement alone nearly made you choke on your saliva. Thorin? Apologizing? 

“I… I have no reason, excuse or otherwise to explain to you why I spoke the way I did.” He furrowed his brows. “I am a horrible excuse for a husband, a failure of a One, and a failure as your friend.” Thorin spoke, his voice close to cracking before he cleared his throat. 

You frowned, not expecting this at all, especially the glassy look in his eyes. 

“I wanted to let you know I did not mean a thing I said.”

“I knew it was a mistake to ever court you, I never loved you to begin with.”  His words replayed in your head, your lip beginning to tremble. 

“Meeting you was the biggest blessing Mahal has ever given me, being able to love you and to cherish you was a gift I threw away,” Thorin’s voice finally cracked, as he let out a shaky sigh. 

“Menu tessu (You mean everything to me) and I was a fool to tell you otherwise.” He shook his head, angry at himself. 

“I love you, (Y/n), I love the way you take the blankets from me when we’re sleeping, I love the way your eyes sparkle when you’re happy, I love the way you care so much for people you love…” Thorin halted himself, looking up to the sky briefly before looking back to you. 

“But despite all of that, I have wronged you, I have wronged you and belittled you,” He frowned at the sight of your tears building in your eyes. 

“And I understand if you would like to leave.”

“Leave?” You couldn’t help but echo, causing him to nod. 

“After all I have done, I cannot expect you to want to stay with me, Men Kurdel (My heart of hearts). I made you feel inadequate, when I should be the one making you feel like a goddess. I failed you.” Tears slipped down Thorin’s cheeks. 

“That is what I wanted to discuss with you, a way to make your life easier, a way to just---” He sighed, “If there is one thing I want, (Y/n), it is to make you happy.” 

“And you think that’s away from you?” You cut him off, furrowing your brows as a tear slipped out, rolling down your face and dripping off your chin.

“I have spent days trying to make myself more like a dwarrowdam because you hate how human I am, because I want---” Your own sob cut you off, your breath hitching as you began to cry harder.

“Because I wanted you to love me again.” Your voice cracked as you barely got out the words, and at the same time, Thorin’s heart felt like it cracked in half as he watched you emotionally collapse in front of him. 

Thorin nearly leapt from his chair, moving to cradle you in his arms, yet unsure as he hovered his form close to yours. 

“Please, love me again,” You whimpered as Thorin pulled you into his arms, tucking your head into his neck as you sobbed. 

“I never stopped loving you, (Y/n),” He murmured into your ear, his arms tightening their hold on you as if this was all a dream. “I am so sorry,” Thorin wept as you clutched onto him just as tight. 

You missed him so much. 

“I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you,” He vowed, pulling away so he could look at you, tears springing to his eyes again at the look of anguish on your face. 

“Just please, come back to me, come back to our chambers, let me hold you, at least for just this night?” Thorin’s tone was on the edge of begging as he cradled your face in his palm, his forehead against yours.

Not being able to find the words, you nodded. And at that moment, he pulled you off the chair entirely, your form clinging to his as he brought you back to your shared chambers. 

Setting you down on the bed, Thorin pulled away to go to your wardrobe. 

“What’re you doing?” You tearfully asked, a whimper wanting to pull itself from your mouth at the lack of contact.

“Your nightgown--” 

“Thorin, please hold me.” His priority was your comfortableness while yours was to be as close as possible to him. Quickly shutting the wardrobe doors, Thorin returned to the bed, barely able to kneel on it before you latched yourself onto him again. 

Hugging him close, you could feel his heartbeat through his tunic. A sigh of relief left you before you looked up to him, seeing him already watching you with admiration and fear. Fear of you changing your mind and walking out of his life for good. 

“Kiss me, please?” You asked tilting your head back to make it easier for him to attach his lips to yours. Thorin’s expression softened as he captured your lips with his own. A needy whimper left your lips as you clutched his tunic in your hands, his own cupping your face as he kissed you deeply. 

Pulling away, Thorin pecked your lips one last time before pressing his forehead against yours. 

“Thorin, I need you.” You murmured, you had been deprived of his touch, of his love, for so long now. 

“I’m yours, I’m here,” He responded to you, not quite understanding your meaning, simply thinking you needed reassurance until you repeated yourself.

“I need you, Thorin.” 

His expression changed from one of concern to something sensual as he dragged his thumb across your cheek.

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help but question, not wanting you to regret being with him when you were so emotionally fragile. 

“Absolutely.” You reassured, this time capturing his lips with yours, catching him off guard before he quickly fell into the rhythm you were searching for. 

Lowering you gently on your back, you felt the familiar pillows beneath you as you arched into him, your hips rolling into his causing a pleased groan to release from his lips, his hands finding your butt as he controlled your movement against his clothed crotch. 

“More, Thorin, please,” Your tone was leaning on the side of begging as he severed the kiss to pepper kisses along your jaw and neck. 

“I’ll give you all you want, amrâlimê,” He reassured, lifting off of you to help you with your dress, the offending fabric being tossed to the floor before he yanked off his tunic, leaving him bare chested with you in your undergarments. 

“Beautiful,” Thorin murmured, admiring the way your body was laid beneath him.

Smiling at him, you couldn’t help but admire him as well, the small scars from battles that have come and gone, the chest hair mostly covering him, the muscles beneath it. 

You were brought out of your admiring state as he began to remove your undergarments, leaving you bare with him still in his pants. 

“You’re very overdressed,” You hummed as he chuckled, the sound going straight to your core as he leaned back over you to kiss at your shoulders and the valley of your breasts. 

“Don’t worry about me, amrâlimê, focus on you.” He spoke softly as he kissed his way down your stomach, his hands coming up to tease your nipples for a moment, drawing a gasp from you. It served as a distraction as he skipped over your pussy to mouth at your thighs. 

“Thorin,” You couldn’t help but groan out as he purposefully neglected where you wanted him most. 

“Please,” You whined until you felt his breath over your pussy. 

“I said to focus on you, (Y/n),” He hummed, now massaging your inner thighs with his calloused hands. Before you could think of a response, his tongue stole the words out of your mouth as it came in contact with you. Licking, flicking, sucking, you couldn’t focus on what he was doing as the pleasure made you reach out and grab at his hair. 

Thorin swore he would make it up to you, and he planned to start right now through worshipping your body, making you feel every ounce of pleasure he could provide you. 

Looping his arms under your thighs, he held his hands above your hips, locking you in place as he feasted on you. 

“Thorin!” You couldn’t help but moan out, your tone high pitched as you felt yourself climbing higher and higher to your peak. Whether you called his name out of lust or trying to give warning, Thorin wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing for certain: you were close. 

He flicked his tongue over your clit rapidly, circling it before suckling the bundle of nerves into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he aggressively accelerated you to your climax. 

Your back arched as your grip on his hair tightened, your mouth opening in a silent moan as your hips wiggled up and down, his own grip loosening as he let you ride out your orgasm. Releasing your clit from his mouth, he kissed your inner thigh as you slowly calmed down. 

“Men lananubukhs (I love you),” Thorin whispered as he rested his head on your opposite thigh, rubbing circles on your hips. 

“What about you?” You questioned once you got your bearings again. 

Thorin shook his head, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh before crawling up to pull you into his embrace. “All I care about is that you are satisfied, my beloved.” He nuzzled the top of your head, feeling a sense of pride as your thighs continued to tremble from the intensity of your orgasm. 

“I told you before, all I want is to make you happy.” 

It felt like flowers were blooming in your ribcage, something soft and delicate taking place in your heart as you curled into Thorin’s embrace, his arm around the small of your waist bringing a sense of comfort. 

While nothing could erase the past, nor the heart that came with it, you’ve decided that for now, you would enjoy the peace that resonated in your heart. 

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[loki-hargreeves]

Loki x Reader - Welcome Home to Westview

Warnings: WANDAVISION SPOILERS, mentions of death, angst and fluff  Word Count: 2,8K Summary: You join Wanda when she drives to Westview. Next thing you know, you’re reunited with Loki who you lost years ago because of Thanos. He’s there to welcome you home 1950s style and make up for lost time.  Author’s Note: This was requested and I absolutely loved this idea. I hope you like it! <3

YOUR POV

When everyone came back, it had been a miracle. Everyone who had vanished during the blip. Everyone who had vanished when Thanos had singlehandedly taken away half of all life. Most people were happy to have their loved ones back. Most people got someone back. 

But that wasn’t your case, nor was it for Wanda. She came back into a world without Vision, you had to keep living without Loki. You always knew that he had died differently. Thanos had killed him and you had witnessed it. You should’ve known just how real it was, that he was gone. Seeing it should’ve been proof enough in order for you to move on and let go. Yet somehow, when the portals opened you had dared to feel hope. Deep down, you had hoped he too would’ve walked out of the golden gates with everyone else, but you had been wrong. 

He had never come back. 

You and Wanda had grown close during your time as Avengers. Recently, the two of you had grown even closer because of your shared grief. The two of you understood one another deeply and it connected you. 

That’s why you had joined Wanda today. She was headed to SWORD headquarters where they were keeping Vision’s body. Everything about it was unsettling and you too felt angry about it. Something about SWORD was fishy and you didn’t trust their motives at all, neither did Wanda. All she wanted was to have a funeral for the man she loved. 

You had agreed to wait in the car as she walked inside, but you kept glancing at the entry just in case you would have to walk in to support your friend. Time passed and eventually Wanda returned to the car alone. Even before she sat down, you could tell things hadn’t gone too well. She slammed the door shut and put her hands on the steering wheel tightly.

“Are you okay?” You were concerned for her well-being. 

Wanda didn’t reply immediately. Her eyes scanned the parking lot and then she looked at the papers she kept in the backseat. For a while, she seemed to be deep in thought and you decided not to push her. Eventually, Wanda faced you.

“There’s something I need to do,” She stated mysteriously.

“Do you want me to leave?” 

“No,” Wanda sounded sure of herself, “I would like it if you came with me, if that’s okay.”

Usually, Wanda handled things on her own. She would push others away and never ask for help. But this seemed different. She was willing to accept your support, and you were more than happy to be there for her; no matter what.

“Okay, I’m right here for you, Wanda.”

Despite how frustrated and upset Wanda felt, she managed to smile. It was nice to have you by her side during such difficult times. 

“Thank you, Y/N.”

                The car ride was long, but it didn’t feel like it. Wanda and you weren’t talking and the car radio filled the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, yet you could tell that something had gone terribly wrong. Once Wanda was ready to talk about it, you would be there for her. For now, your presence was more than enough. 

Since you didn’t talk, you tried to focus on the songs on the radio to distract yourself from your own, deep thoughts. Sometimes, they would get the best of you and right now, you wanted to stay tuned in the moment, not in the past.

Eventually, you drove past a sign that said Welcome to Westview. It was a small town, but nice nonetheless. It looked old. Buildings were worn and the streets looked like they had been used for decades. The town had a lot of family-friendly places and small shops. You saw an old lady drinking coffee by herself and a man putting up flyers. No one seemed to pay too much attention to you as Wanda drove by everything slowly. You noticed that Wanda was eyeing the street names closely. Was she searching for something?

It didn’t take too long until Wanda took a turn to a street called Sherwood drive and slowed down the car, eventually coming to a stop. You noticed the foundation of a house that had once been there. The neighborhood around you was full of family homes and it had a very warm and cozy energy. As nice as your surroundings were, Wanda looked like she wanted to cry. 

“Can you stay here? I need to do something on my own,” Wanda finally broke the silence. How long had you been in silence? You weren’t sure. 

“Yeah. Just let me know if you need me, okay?” You wanted to reassure her of your support. 

Wanda just nodded and reached to the backseat to grab a paper. With one last glance at you, she got out of the car and closed the door. You sat comfortably on your seat and turned the radio on a little louder as she walked away. The song that was playing was familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your tongue on the name of it. The lyrics were beautiful and you found yourself relaxing to the melody.

“... If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do, is to save everyday 'til eternity passes away just to spend it with you ...”

Naturally, you were worried about her. Wanda hadn’t spoken about what happened when she tried to recover Vision’s body. Clearly, things hadn’t gone too well. Had she even been allowed to see him? 

As you sat there, you wondered how you would’ve felt if you had been in her shoes, if someone had Loki’s body and they wouldn’t let you have a funeral for him. Immediately, your gut twisted in disgust and pain. It seemed like a nightmare. 

For all that you knew, Loki was somewhere in space, in the middle of nowhere, all alone. When the Guardians had heard the distress signal, they had only found you and Thor. Loki was nowhere to be seen. All the debris from the spaceship had made it nearly impossible to see and navigate through it all. 

It had been years but it still hurt. Knowing he was left alone broke your heart, as if seeing him die hadn’t been soul crushing enough. You knew you would never get over losing Loki. He was and always would be the love of your life. Even if he wasn’t there, you always kept him in your heart. You were sure your very souls were connected. The love you had was just that deep. 

Curiously, you looked out of the car window just to keep an eye on Wanda. She was standing in the middle of the ruins with the paper in her trembling hands. You couldn’t see what it said, but you knew it was important because once she looked at it, she broke down into tears. The sight of her there, all alone in so much pain was awful. For so long, she had been strong and kept on a tough face, but she had reached her breaking point. All the pain, the anger, the misery, it had gotten the best of her. You knew exactly how it felt and your first instinct was to get out of the car and go there to comfort her. How could you just sit there when she was sobbing on the cold hard ground all by herself?

When you got out of the car and looked at Wanda again, she was standing. Her powers were growing around her and a bright red light made you squint your eyes. What on earth was going on?

“Wanda?” You called out for her worriedly, unsure whether she could hear you from so far away. Her powers grew stronger at an alarming rate. You could feel just how strong the magic was and goosebumps rose on your skin. Something was terribly wrong and you knew things were getting out of hand. Despite how dangerous it was to approach something so chaotic and powerful, you tried to reach her. You never did.

Wanda’s powers were explosive. In the blink of an eye, her magic poured all around her and covered everything and everyone in sight. You remembered seeing that signature scarlet shade all around you and then everything went blank. It all happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to be scared, nor to use your powers to shield yourself from hers. The red swallowed you completely with no warning. 

‘

             What happened?

   How did I get here?

                                              ,

You stood in front of Wanda and Vision’s house. Despite not remembering anything at all, you just knew that it was where she lived. Why were you just standing on her lawn? That was odd. You couldn’t remember getting there, but strangely enough, it didn’t bother you too much. You must’ve just taken a stroll and ended up at your best friend’s house. As strange as it was, you didn’t think twice about it.

With a smile on your face, you straightened the skirt of your silky dress and looked at your heels to see that they were dirt-free and shiny. After all, your outfit was brand new and you didn’t want to get the dirty right away, now did you?

“You look more beautiful than I remembered,” A familiar voice caught your attention. Your eyes widened as you stood there, now in shock. It had been too long since you had last heard that voice. 

“Do you not recognize me? Has it been that long?” Loki walked closer to you from behind. 

You turned around because you had to see him to make sure you had heard right. When you saw him standing there, you felt overjoyed. 

Loki was alive!

“Oh my god,” You could hardly believe your eyes. 

Loki opened his arms wide, inviting you to a hug. Once the initial shock passed, you ran into his strong and loving arms. Loki embraced you just like you remembered he had done before. His oh-so-familiar scent filled your lungs and you were drunk on him in an instant. Tears stung your eyes and you closed them, allowing yourself to sink into his touch and be fully enveloped by him once again. 

“I missed you so much,” You admitted and felt a warm tear rolling down your cheek, ruining your makeup but you didn’t care at all. Loki had seen you, all of you. With him, you could be completely vulnerable. 

Loki planted a kiss at the top of your head, then your forehead and the tip of your nose. His soft hands cupped your cheeks and you opened your eyes just to face him. His eyes were mesmerizing and dangerous. With just one glance, you were lost.

“I missed you too,” Loki let you know sincerely. You didn’t know where he had been, or why you had been separated. All you knew was that it had been years and now you were together again. That was all that mattered and you refused to think about the logic of it all. It felt like you could hope again. You could be happy.

A gentle breeze played with your skirt and with your hair. Loki looked like a god as he stood there in his black suit and tie, with his long dark locks swaying in the wind. Your heart was so full of love again and you felt happy, so happy that you kissed him.

Your lips collided sweetly and Loki kissed you back with such fiery passion that you felt as if your soul was on fire. The kiss was so romantic that you knew if a crowd would’ve been watching, they would’ve aww-ed. It would’ve brought people to tears. 

Eventually, you had to break the kiss so you could breathe. Once you did, both of you smiled like never before. Loki couldn’t let go of you and you didn’t want to let go of him either. 

“Let’s go home, shall we?” Loki proposed happily. 

Home. 

The word made your heart swell with affection. 

“I’d love that,” You admitted, your mind already thinking about all the possibilities. You shared a home and you could spend the rest of your lives there together. You could have your own little family. Nothing could come between you ever again. 

Loki offered you his arm for you to hold onto, which you gladly did. Together you turned away from Wanda and Vision’s home and began to walk to your own home. Somehow, you knew exactly where to go, like you had walked that path a million times before.

The walk was so relaxing. You and Loki held onto each other so comfortably and watched your neighbours, greeting them as you passed by. Everything seemed so peaceful; perfect. It was exactly where you wanted to be for all the rest of your days. 

“So where were you all this time?” You asked Loki curiously. After all, he had been gone for a while now. As you tried to think about it, you felt distracted by his touch and just the sight of him. It was almost like something didn’t want you to poke your brain with a stick, so you tried not to get yourself puzzled. 

Loki raised his eyebrows and hummed by himself, as if he had to really think about it in order to remember, “It’s a long story, my love. One I’ll tell you all about once we’re home. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a great dinner topic,” You hinted at him. Dining together was always the highlight of your day. 

It didn’t take long to walk from Wanda’s house to yours. After all, you lived on the same street. Your home was beautiful. It was spacious, so you and Loki wouldn’t outgrow it anytime soon. 

Loki let go of you and he rushed to open the front door to you. “Ladies first,” He smirked to you and then looked inside. 

“You’re such a gentleman,” You couldn’t help but to feel appreciated.  Loki treated you like a queen, he always had. Then you walked inside.

Your eyes adjusted from the brightness outside to the dim lights inside. Loki closed the door and then you were both home. The place reflected the two of you so well, in every little detail. Someone had lit the fireplace when you were gone and you assumed it was Loki’s doing. Now that you were behind closed doors, you could use your powers without being seen. 

“Did you-” Your sentence was cut short as you turned to face Loki again. He was standing behind you with a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. The sweet gesture took you by surprise and you forgot what you were going to ask. 

“I know it isn’t much, but I want to make up for the time we lost. I hope this is the right path to your heart again, my love,” Loki explained as he handed the gifts to you, which you gladly accepted. 

“Oh Loki, thank you,” You were moved by the gesture. “But I need you to know you’ve always been in my heart, and you always will be.”

Loki seemed relieved to hear those words, “as will you be in mine.” 

Ding!

“What was that?” You were surprised by the sound that came from the kitchen. 

Loki grabbed your empty hand and placed a soft kiss on your skin, “I do believe you mentioned something about dinner.”

Yet another surprise. 

“When did you do that?” You were impressed by it all. He had really gone out of his way to make this day lovely - and you certainly weren’t complaining. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Loki replied with a grin and began to lead to you the dining room. You shouldn’t have expected any less from your husband.

“How very sneaky of you,” You rolled your eyes playfully. That’s when you noticed the lovely aroma in the air. Dinner smelled lovely and you hadn’t even seen it yet. Had he made your favourite? 

Loki pulled a chair back for you to sit on. As you sat down, the plates, the food and all that appeared on the table out of nowhere just like magic. Yet another trick, one that was very useful too.

Your eyes followed Loki as he walked around the table and sat down opposite of you. Just then, the setting sun shone through the curtains. It brightened up the room beautifully and highlighted every beautiful aspect of Loki, especially his eyes. The sun was shining on you and dinner was ready. 

“One more thing,” Loki remembered and quickly snapped his fingers, lighting the candles to set the mood, “now everything is perfect.”

He was right. Finally, the two of you were together under the roof of your home. What else could you have ever wished for?

“Perfect indeed.”

A/N: I hope you liked it! If you did, I would love to hear your feedback 🥺 I loved this concept so much that I want to write more, but for now I’ll keep this one short. 

Forever Taglist:  @iraniq  @embrycallsgirl  @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho  @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13  @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna  @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14

Loki taglist: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02 @myraiswack​

[boytouya]

𝙒𝙖𝙞𝙩 𝙖 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙩𝙚!

words: 1.2k

warning: profanity

request: “HELLO! <3 how r u !! could I request a mean male reader bullying back bakugou yet flirting w/ him at the same time? arson boy would be so disturbed. 😭your requests say open but PLEASE ignore this if they’re not, for my own dodge of self-embarrassment, LMFAOOO Ɛ/>”

a/n: i’m doing alright, sweetheart! i hope you’ve been doing well. this has been sitting in my inbox since april i’m so sorry!!! i hope i could do this request justice. i’m considering making it longer.. i didn’t wanna make the reader an unlikeable kind of mean so i went with something more tame, that’s why it sounds more like friends going back and forth :)

“Get your filthy paws off me!” Katsuki snarls, the link gums of his mouth exposed as he bares his teeth. If there were one word to describe him, it’d be feral. Sharp canines, an angular jawline and rough scarlet eyes that had a never ending blaze behind them. They were a deep shade of red, almost appearing brown. He was frustratingly handsome, the kind of pretty that only boys could achieve, with unnecessarily long eyelashes and beauty marks. His hair goes in all sorts of directions, each strand somehow meeting perfectly to form the most endearing row of spikes you’ve ever seen. He pushes you aside with his wrist, as if touching you with his entire hand would infect him.

His explosions were just as bright as his mind, the thought pops up when he nearly casts an explosion straight into your face. It crackles on his fingertips, illuminating an orange glow against the curves of your face. It blends almost perfectly into the apples of your cheeks and beneath your irises. He curses himself for thinking about you in so much detail, but how could he not?

“Ahh, ‘get your filthy paws off me!’” You tack on a nasally voice, obviously over exaggerated to make the boy uncomfortable. It works, seeing as he grunts and tears his gaze away. You can smell something burning, the dense scent of charcoal filling the air. “Stop projecting, and pull up your pants. You look fuckin’ stupid.” The insult comes out with a bit more venom than intended, and it clearly gets under his skin. The comment festers, aggressively at that.

“Keep mentioning being stupid and I’ll beat you till you are!” His pupils dilate, just underneath the light shining through his eyelashes. His tongue, as pink as his lips, swipes under his teeth. It feels like he’s the only other person in the room, a dark vignette blocking you from the rest of your class. Just you and Katsuki. Just you, Katsuki, and the God awful smell of whatever was burning.

“Fuck!” Bakugou yells, patting down his lap. You have to shift to see over his desk, but there’s a burning hole through his baggy pants. The mossy green lacks any sort of smooth transition into charred black. It’s not exactly small, but you wouldn’t say it’s that noticeable either. Around half the size of Katsuki’s calloused palm. He’s usually careful, he never needs to look out for these things because he has one hundred percent perfect control over his quirk. Then there’s you, pushing him off his balance beam for the first time in forever. His feet had already grown unsteady to begin with, but something about your unreasonably handsome face made him stumble.

“Do you have All Might boxers? That’s…kinda cute.” The hole is nowhere near the top end of his thigh, but you like to tease him anyway. There’s heat dwindling on his cheeks, more so than his palm. He doesn’t blush though, instead stomps his heavy foot on yours in retaliation. It could be to distract you from whatever he’s feeling rise to his throat. It definitely distracts you from what you feel in yours.

You’re always the first to check him, pull him back in from his fits of- well, passion. To others, he seemed aggressive and angry, but really, he was just passionate about what he enjoyed. Beating others. His fire was always ignited, the flame sparking the second he developed his quirk, and it only ever grew brighter. You wanted to be his candle, to be able to melt under his flame and bounce back when his wick had burned itself through and through.

“It’s too early for your shit.” Bakugou’s cheek rests against his knuckles, his elbow digging into the edge of his desk. He stares straight ahead, afraid the air would be snatched from his lungs if he makes eye contact with you for any second longer. His cheek, though squished between his hand and excess baby fat, looks incredibly kissable. When he’s not straining his face he appears much more youthful. Of course he was only a teen, the both of you were, but the facial expressions he made reminded you of an old man. The thought of Katsuki hunched over with grey hair, yelling at children brings a smile to your face. He already went to bed early, had a tight ironed schedule and woke up early. Honestly, he was already on his way.

He makes no effort to fully turn his body, let alone actually look at you. Instead, Katsuki tilts his head to the side and stares at you through his peripherals. He hadn’t thought about it till now, but the flirting was actually kind of flattering. Hearing you go on with your day without saying something Denki would fist bump you for left him feeling unsettled, like there was a tsunami in his stomach. He actually kind of liked blowing up your face after you flirt with him.

“I can feel those Granny Smith’s staring straight into my soul,” He ignores the obscure comparison of his eyes to apples, but he’d definitely think about it later. Your backhanded compliments have him tapping his foot against the floor in irritation. The rhythm is somewhat memorising, Katsuki makes a mental note to try it out on his drums in his free time. Not that he’d ever say it was inspired by you. Not in a million years. “Really lets me know where home is, thanks ‘Suki.”

“Don’t call me that, prick!” There are fireworks exploding in his stomach. The fizzle out into sparklers, zapping against his insides and bringing overwhelming thoughts straight to his head. It was an unusual feeling, trapped inside his body and only expelling through bouncing legs. At first, the flirting made him want to punch you in your prince-charming esque face, but hearing the nickname made him feel something else. Warm and floaty inside. With fifty percent humor intended, you reach over the safety of your desk to grasp his hand. In the millisecond you get to hold it, you note it’s faint dampness. A drawback of his quirk, something you’d be sure to tease him about another time. He swats your hand with a loud ‘smack!’ that bounces off the walls of the room. He doesn’t pull away completely, instead brushing his knuckles against your own. His signature nose wrinkle returns, manufactured from the exact opposite of disgust. He hates the way his heart quickens, the way he feels challenged when you speak to him, the way he craves the feeling of your hand on his for just a second longer.

But oddly enough, he loved- no, liked? He wasn’t ready for love yet.- you with every fiber of his being. His knuckles brushing against yours felt like more fiction than it actually was, his heart did somersaults against his ribs when he saw you. Hearing you insult him had always taken him aback, it made a mischievous glint in his eye return just as quick as it vanished. Then you’d laugh, a divine chime that he couldn’t quite describe with words, and say something that stopped the blood flow in his body. You truly were something else, a supernova that only vermillion eyes could see. He was thankful for that. The two of you are rather young, with questioning, impressionable minds that’ll cling to each other for support. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

taglist: @lustclubs @indigowren21 @cannedfoodisbestfood @junkwhoore @kissesdenji @sanderssidesangsttrash @i-d0g @kaito-asmr @jream-23 @princejasno @mel-bigia04 @mhasimp666 @onehellofasimp @corporeal-terrestrial @angelaturservice @shootingstars-and-burningsuns @sleepyslvt @rintarosaku

[cdroloisms]

I really love when people write about c!wilbur manipulating c!dream so I was wondering if you could write on about the smp realizing that c!wilbur manipulated c!dream into being a lap dog for him but a hell lot of trouble for then and if you could add c!wilbur taking advantage of the fact that dream is a god during a fight that would make my day. Hope you have a great day.thank you. Love your work.

ooh yeah - c!wilbur is back and GGG-ing as good as ever, , which Really makes you think abt what it’s gonna be like when he interacts with c!dream again. this ended up being a little more c!sapnap centric than i intended, hope that’s alright haha. (and thank you so much for the kind words!) 

tw: implied abuse, torture, drowning, dismemberment, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault, c!sapnap critical? not really?, dark portrayal of c!wilbur (typical MAD duo shenanigans)

Sapnap isn’t expecting to find anyone when he storms out in the middle of the night - he’s tense, they all are after the fiasco at the prison, but really his thoughts are filled with Karl once again going inexplicably radio silent for days on end and Quackity ignoring all of his questions with a simple “i’m busy” that he’d failed to follow up even twelve hours later, so Dream and Wilbur and whatever the hell happened that left Pandora’s Vault - obsidian, indestructible, tall and dark and proud - half-crumbled and sunken into the sea are just about the last things on his mind.  

Even so, he’s not an idiot, so he had enough foresight to pack a few potions and gather his armor and weapons before stepping into the summer night - it’s cool under the moonlight, a soft breeze cutting through the otherwise stifling weight of the humid air, and the comfortable night is enough to make his anger die down, just a little. Kinoko Kingdom glows soft and warm from the lanterns Foolish had scattered all over the place, thick with the earthy smell of fungus and flowers, and he takes a deep breath before walking to the city outskirts to hopefully clear his mind.

He’s no stranger to late-night walks; his temper had always been fiery, even as a child, and he’d figured out pretty early on that the easiest way to deal with it was to walk or run until his brain was too tired to think anymore. Walking at night also meant he could take out some of his frustration on mobs as well as the satisfaction of setting a random patch of forest on fire without worrying about burning down someone else’s property, and once he got good enough with a sword and shield to come and go relatively unscathed, Bad had stopped his worrying enough to let him do whatever as long as he came back in time in the morning. Sapnap frowns as he hacks at a random branch in his way with an axe, watching as it falls in a spray of leaves and crashes to the ground; he hasn’t seen Bad in a while, not since he became obsessed with the whole Egg thing. Quackity had mentioned some cryptic things, and Karl was adamant that they avoid the Egg as much as possible, but he probably should’ve at least visited, or something. Bad always knew what to say when it came to messy things like this.

Though - Sapnap laughs wryly - it’d never been this bad, before. Karl distant and absent, Q somehow even more so with a new glint to his gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. George, usually asleep, never around, expression perpetually foggy like he doesn’t know where he was. Dream- evil, insane, awful, somehow so familiar it hurt and too much of a stranger to recognize. He wonders when it all got this bad. He wonders what it says about himself, that he didn’t notice until it was far too late.

“Fancy seeing you out here.”

Sapnap whirls around, sword drawn; the figure staring back at him doesn’t even flinch. His eyes narrow at the sight, stance widening, shoulders tense.

“Wilbur?” He keeps his voice wary, guarded, trying his best to keep surprise from coloring his tone. Wilbur grins at him, tight-lipped, the planes of his face faintly lit by the moon shining over them, facial features only barely visible in the dim light. Without really meaning to, Sapnap cranes his head to look around at the surrounding forest, but nothing moves or makes itself known outside of the figure still staring at him, smirking. “What- what are you doing here?”

And where’s Dream?

Because Sapnap might not know much about what went down at the prison and what Dream’s plans are and the whole mess that he’d been so desperate to put behind him and utterly failed at doing so, but what he does know is that the two of them - Dream and Wilbur, Wilbur and Dream - had been all but inseparable, strangely attached to each other in a way that spelled out nothing but trouble for the rest of them. The rest of the server had been compiling sightings of the two in the hopes of being able to stop whatever it was that they had planned, but Sapnap knows his former friend, brother, and even if he doesn’t know Wilbur, his reputation more than precedes him: the two of them are smart, not to mention paranoid as fuck, and the rest of them have a better shot shooting targets in the dark than figuring out whatever the hell was going on in their heads with the two of them working together. Either way, he knows that they’d never been sighted apart - it was always Wilbur standing on a hill with Dream sitting next to him, or Dream hacking through mobs as Wilbur followed, or the two of them stepping into a fortress and leaving minutes after - until now.

“Could ask the same of you,” Wilbur laughs, just a shade to the left of friendly, and the moonlight scatters through the leaves and glints off his glasses. “Don’t be so tense, man! I’m just going on a walk, thought I’d enjoy the night. Didn’t see anything like this in Limbo, you know.”

Sapnap winces at the reminder, that Wilbur is here and alive in defiance of law and reason and the universe itself, but Wilbur barrels on, seeming unaware of his unease.

“Anyway - how are you doing, man? Haven’t seen you around in a while.” He leans back, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, stance loose, relaxed. “I’d ask Dream, but he’s been in prison for a bit, you know? Most of what he knows is pretty - ah, outdated, not that I tell him that.”

“What are you planning?” Sapnap snaps, grip tightening around the handle of his sword. “You and Dream. What do you want?”

“Who’s to say we want anything?” Wilbur seems to grin wider, and the expression on his face is unsettling, makes something cold slither up his spine. He shakes his head to rid himself of the feeling, half-wishing it was brighter so he could better see the other’s eyes.

“I mean-” he stutters. Because Dream always wants, he almost says, bitter and angry, that all-too-familar swell of betrayal rising in his chest at Dream, forever insatiated, forever wanting, forever looking for more more more. Because if he were to escape, and if he were to want nothing, then what did that mean for the rest of them? Because if he didn’t want, if he wasn’t left wanting, then did Sapnap ever mean anything at all? The thoughts stick to his skull like tar, words clinging to the roof of his mouth as it goes dry. Wilbur seems to stare at him, unimpressed, and he feels his face go hot.

“He’s not- he’s dangerous, you know,” Sapnap says instead of answering, because untangling the awful, knotted feelings that make up his remaining ties with Dream, half-frayed and neglected and forgotten, is more work than he can handle and more emotions than he has the energy to bear. It doesn’t matter, in the end, because Dream is still dangerous; he knows that, resolutely, and maybe it’s lucky, that he found Wilbur without Dream whispering plans and manipulations and meaningless words by his side. It’ll give him a chance to warn Wilbur, bring him back to their side instead of risking his life (again) in the company of his friend-turned-tyrant. Dream is dangerous, whether he wants or not, because Dream is Dream and he’s been in too many manhunts to face him with anything less than one hundred percent confidence. “You don’t want to be with him, Wilbur. He’s hurt- so many people.”

Wilbur’s expression doesn’t change, seeming as indifferent to the words as ever; if anything, he looks a little amused. “Really,” he hums, almost to himself. “Dangerous, you say?”

“He’s Dream,” Sapnap insists, because it’s the truth, and it’s the simplicity of it, really. It’s Dream, and Dream is dangerous whether he’s on your side or not, forever ruthless and unheeding as long as he gets what he wants. He’d been in Wilbur’s place, once, convinced that Dream’s strategies and planning and infallible logic had meant they had no way of losing. He knows better, now. “You’ve fought him before! He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anything.”

And if the words are a little more bitter than they should be when he says that, who but he is going to notice?

Wilbur’s eyes stay on his, completely silent, expression unreadable. The quiet gets awkward quickly, Wilbur’s expression seeming unchanging, nothing but the faint rustling of the leaves around them to break the stillness of the air, and Sapnap feels his gut roll uncomfortably as he looks off to the ground, waiting for Wilbur to react in some way, any way. It’s hard, he knows, to realize that someone you thought was on your side had been using you the entire time, he’s been there before and he gets it, but- it’s still strange, how still Wilbur has become. How he still hasn’t reacted - is his expression going to change?

And suddenly, starting quiet and then swelling in volume, Wilbur begins to laugh.

“Goodness,” Wilbur drawls through his chuckles, voice low and dark and sending chills down his back. “I thought he was exaggerating, man - you really do hate him, don’t you?”

“What- what’s so funny?”

Wilbur smiles, teeth flashing white as the faint light from the moon bounces off of them, “I have to give you my thanks, truly. I’d thought that Quackity did the most of it, or Sam, but you- I really couldn’t have guessed.”

Sapnap’s head is spinning. Wilbur’s expression is positively gleeful, eyes dancing, smile wide and brilliant, bouncing from one name to another with little explanation to how any of them tie together. Sam? Quackity? Nothing is making sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh Sapnap,” Wilbur croons. “You really don’t know, do you?”

He twists his hand in a flippant gesture, eyes directed into the forest surrounding them.

“Let’s just say that his, ah- stay, in Pandora, wasn’t exactly what I’d call a five-star experience. But you know that, don’t you?” Wilbur directs a flat smile his way, and Sapnap swallows, throat dry. Briefly, images flash behind his eyes - walls, dripping with crying obsidian, the lava’s heat hard to bear at his back, even for him, mining fatigue pulling at his limbs and making them heavy. How startlingly bare the cell had been, even through the haze of his anger, Dream, slumped in a corner of the cell, barely moving, barely even breathing as it seemed sometimes, sunken-in cheeks and sagging shoulders speaking of nothing but a bone-deep exhaustion. “Apparently, being psychologically and physically tortured for months on end has an interesting effect on the human psyche. Even more so when, say, your best friend comes once in the entire time to tell you that he’ll kill you if you ever try to escape.”

“How-” he trips on his own words, lungs seizing, “how do you know that?”

“He tells me things. A lot of things, really. Did you know it takes one and a half regen potions to reattach an arm after it’s been cut off? It takes three and a half for a leg, he thinks, but the blood loss made it rather hard to remember.” Wilbur steps forward. “Did you know that scars created by healing potions tend to be much thicker and more prominent than those made by regens? Or that he can hold his breath for a little more than two minutes before passing out?” Wilbur smirks, jagged, threatening. “Did you know that I can tell him just about everything, and he’ll believe me because there’s no one else to tell him otherwise?”

“Wh- what?”

“I’ll be sure to tell him what you said; I’m sure he’ll love to hear how his brother is doing.” Wilbur waves. “And when you see Quackity, be sure to give him my thanks, will you?”

“Wilbur, what- come back-”

And with a flash of purple particles, Wilbur disappears, leaving Sapnap alone in the middle of the forest. Stasis chamber. His heart pounds in his ears, breathing all-too-loud, and he stares desperately at the empty space where Wilbur had stood like it’ll bring him back again.

Fuck, he swipes his hand across his face, startled when it comes back wet. What does he do now?

[waitimcomingtoo]

Plank All Over Me - Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist

Plank All Over Me Masterlist

“Welcome back to Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts.” James Cordan said to the camera. “I’m here with Tom and Y/n Holland.”

“Oh my God.” Tom looked at you with wide eyes as you both thought the same thing.

“He introduced us.” You realized. “We can’t do our bit.”

“You’re my wife now, darling. You get to do anything you want.” Tom stated at he looked at James. “James, we’re actually Dave and James Franco.”

“Who’s who?” James humored you, well aware of the way you and Tom acted in interviews.

“I’m clearly the James.” You mumbled as you smoothed your dress.

“Dave is more attractive.” Tom shrugged sassily and you made a face at him.

“Can we start the game?” James playfully interrupted and you and Tom sat up straight.

“Yes, sorry.” You nodded as James began to explain the rules of the game. You’d seen the bit enough times to know how to play, so you tuned James out a little. You didn’t mean to, you just had a lot on your mind lately. There was something you needed to tell Tom and you hadn’t found the right way to do it yet.

“The first question is for Y/n and since I love her so much I’m going to give her the hot sauce.” James smiled wickedly as he got the hot sauce in front of you.

“Mmm.” You said sarcastically and grimaced at the camera.

“Who got the drunkest at your wedding?” James read off the card before looking at you. You pursed your lips as you thought about the answer before chuckling.

“Probably Tom.” You laughed as you pointed at your husband who was sat across the table from you. His face lit up with laughter as he folded his arms.

“Yeah, I was gonna say. Ryan Reynolds and I had a drinking competition that I definitely won.” He said smugly, making the audience cheer.

“I never imagined I’d be standing by Blake Lively’s side on my wedding day, screaming “CHUG” at my husband, but I’m glad it happened. You made me proud.” You said to Tom with a fond pout on your face.

“Aw.” Tom held his hand over his heart as you stared at each other lovingly.

“Gross.” James deadpanned, making the two of you laugh.

“Next question is for Tom and I am going to give you the cockroaches.” You said as you spun the table. “Love you, honey.”

“It’s looking at me.” Tom gagged as he picked up a cockroach and quickly dropped it back in the little glass bowl.

“How dare that slutty, dead cockroach stare at you.” You joked. “Tell it you’re married.”

“I swear, you two are the strangest couple I had ever sat with.” James shook his head as he laughed.

“We get that a lot.” You and Tom said in unison.

“Okay, Tom, who is the most unprofessional Avenger on set?” You read off your card before setting it back on the table.

“Ooo. That’s a tough one since they’re all so badly behaved.” Tom clicked his tongue and the audience laughed gleefully.

“No, I’m joking.” He smiled at the reaction. “I’m gonna go with Evans because he’s pretty much a ten year old. Like, he carries around one of those tiny skateboards - what are they called?”

“Tech Decks.” You told him.

“Yeah. He carried around a Tech Deck and runs it over everyone’s arms when we’re blocking scenes.” Tom explained as he did the motion of the mini skateboard on the table.

“I have also seen him covered in Cheeto dust countless times.” You added. “He will straight up come to set with orange fingers. He is the opposite of Captain America.”

“I hate that. We call them Wotsitz in England and it makes me cringe.” Tom shuddered as he moved the table. “James, I’m gonna give you the bird saliva.”

“It looks warm.” James commented as he picked it up to examine it. “That’s so unsettling.”

“Ick.” Tom grimaced and picked up a card. “James, which guest would you not invite back to the show?”

The audience reacted accordingly and you raised your eyebrows at the host.

“I can’t answer that.” James held his hand over his mouth as he stared at the bird saliva in front of him.

“Then why do you get asked that in every installment of Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts?” You asked bluntly, making the audience laugh.

“That’s an excellent question and I’m going to think about it while I drink this bird saliva.” James looked you right in the eyes as he took a sip from the small glass. You cringed when he swallowed it and immediately went to take a sip of water.

“Ew. Is it thick?” You wondered as he coughed into his elbow.

“You don’t want to know.” James said hoarsely, shaking his head.

“Do I go now?” Tom asked, already forgetting the order of turns.

“Yes, you pick for Y/n.” James told him as he wiped his mouth.

“Okay.” Tom smiled deviantly and spun the table. “I’m gonna give you the turkey testicles because I know how much you love-“

“Tom.” You cut him off with a stern look.

“Turkey burgers.” He finished his sentence. “She loves turkey burgers.”

You squinted your eyes at him as he laughed devilishly.

“I’m about to walk out.” You threatened him once your fate was put in front of you.

“It’s not a true interview with us unless one of us threatens to leave.” Tom noted as he picked up his card. “Who do you think is the smallest Avenger?”

“Oh, definitely Mackie.” You answered confidently, relieved you didn’t have to eat the “food” in front of you.

“But he’s taller than me.” Tom tilted his head in confusion and your eyes widened.

“Oh you meant height?” You asked, fully misunderstanding the original question. The audience erupted into laughter and you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“WHAT?” James asked as he wiped tears from his eyes.

“I thought you were asking about something else.” You said sheepishly as you shrunk in your seat.

“This is CBS.” He reminded you and you have an apologetic grin.

“Next question.” You requested, wanted to move on from your lapse in judgment.

“This ones for Tom and I’m giving you the salmon smoothie.” James decided. “Tom, how much did you get paid for Spiderman: Far From Home?”

“Enough to put a 20 karat ring on Y/n’s finger.” Tom response was immediate and you lit up in delight. You held your hand up to your ear so the camera could see it.

“With matching earrings.” You said coyly before letting out a laugh, all while Tom watched you with a childlike grin.

“My turn. I’m gonna give you the tarantula. James.” You decided and picked up a card. “Who was your least favorite guest on Carpool Karaoke?”

You held the card to your chest as you looked at him expectantly, knowing he’d never answer it.

“I can’t answer that.” He shook his head. “I have an answer but I can’t say it.”

“When you met Lin Manuel Miranda, did he bite his lip?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Tom burst out laughing at you, knowing exactly what you were talking about.

“Oh my God. She’s obsessed with that one picture of the guy.” Tom explained.

“It’s so funny. EUHYYYHY WE WERE MARRIED THAT NIGHT.” You imitated the countless singing videos of Lin Manuel Miranda you’d seen on Tik Tok that left you in tears of laughter every night.

“I hear this everyday.” Tom told James as you laughed at yourself.

“I can’t. I can’t. Sorry Lin.” You giggled again before calming down.

“Lin was perfectly lovely and we would love to have him back.” James brought the conversation back to the question. “I have an answer but I just can’t say who it was.”

“Then you better put that spider in your mouth.” Tom nodded towards the spider.

“It’s easy. I do it all the time. Wink wink.” You gave the camera an over exaggerated wink.

“Oh My God. Every time.” Tom scolded you as you made yet another innuendo.

“It smells horrible.” James whined as he leaned down to sniff the tarantula.

“Well it’s a dead bug. Were you expecting Japanese Cherry Blossom?” You sassed him.

“Oh God. Here we go.” James plugged his nose and took a tiny bite of the spiders leg.

“How is it?” Tom wondered as he watched in disgust. “Is it crunchy?”

“It’s gooey.” James told him before wiping his face with his napkin.

“I could’ve told you that.” You shrugged, causing Tom to give you a stern look that told you to behave.

“Stop it.” He couldn’t contain his laughter. “Who’s turn is it?”

“It’s my turn to ask Y/n.” James said as he looked around the table for what hadn’t been used yet.

“Fire away.” You said casually despite the butterflies in your tummy over what he could possible ask you.

“Okay Y/n, I’m gonna give you the grasshoppers.” You bit your tongue between your teeth as James moved the table towards you.

“Delicious.” You grimaced as you poked around in the bowl of grasshoppers.

“Y/n, if you had to date one of Tom’s brothers to save his life, which would you pick?” James read off the card and the audience murmured with anticipation.

“How would I get into that situation?” You stalled your answer, knowing you’d have to pick between hurting Toms feelings or eating a bug.

“And how do I prevent her from getting into that situation?” Tom added, making you laugh. He was trying to keep his cool but you knew the question bothered him.

“You have to answer the question or get to eating. Come on now, before they hop away.” James joked, making the audience laugh. You stared into the bowl of grasshoppers and knew there was no way you could put it on your mouth without throwing up. You gulped and looked at your husband, giving him an apologetic pout before looking at James.

“I guess Sam.” You said weakly and quickly moved the grasshoppers away from you.

“Why Sam?” James asked, always trying to get the best response he could.

“That’s not the question.” You quipped as you taped the card with your fingernail.

“I want to know too.” Tom spoke up, making your stomach drop. You shrugged and folded your arms to look relaxed.

“He was the first one that came to mind and I don’t think you’d want me to sit here and go over the pro’s and con’s of dating all your brothers. Plus, he’s a great chef.” You answered, and to your surprise, Tom smiled.

“That’s true.” He nodded. “Good job, baby.”

“Thank you.” You blew him a playful kiss which he caught and then pretended to throw away to get a laugh. You shot him a look before returning your attention to the table.

“Stop it.” You warned. “Who’s turn is it?”

“It’s your turn, Mrs. Holland.” Tom said, always taking the opportunity to call you that.

“Okay. I’m gonna give you the bulls penis.” You said lovingly as you moved the table.

“You’re too kind, my love.” He teased as it landed in front of him.

“I know. It’s my gift since you always give me the-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Tom cut you off. “I don’t even want to know how it ends.”

“Fine. I won’t.” You gave the audience a pointed look and they laughed at your antics. You picked up your card and read the question, immediately laughing at what it asked. You were about to read the question when an idea popped into your head. Tom noticed the way your expression changed and sensed something was up.

“Oh no. I’m scared already.” He smiled nervously as you looked at the card again. Finally, you looked Tom in the eye and gave him a soft smile.

“Are you excited to be a father?” You asked the question that had been weighing on your mind ever since you took a pregnancy test in an airport bathroom two days ago. You wanted to break the news in a memorable way, and constantly being on planes or in cars made that difficult.

This show, however, made it easy.

Toms face melted from a playful smile to wide eyes at your question. The audience quieted down as everyone waited for Tom’s response.

“What?” He asked slowly, studying your face closely to see if you were joking.

“That’s what it says.” You put it simply, makes Toms face shift into a smile. James took the card fork where you had set it down, knowing damn well his writers hadn’t put that as a question, and read it.

“This card says “how big is it?”” James read off the card as he looked at you, making you chuckle slightly.

“I took a creative liberty.” You shrugged. Tom and James looked at each other, both thinking the other was up to something.

“Are you pregnant?” Tom leaned closer to you from across the table to ask.

“You don’t get to ask a question until you’ve chosen what food I have to eat.” You reminded him as you gestured to the table.

“Not to make this about me, but It’s also not your turn.” James threw in a joke as he watched the drama unfold.

“Cow tongue.” Tom said quickly and shifted the table so the cow tongue was in front of you. He looked up at you with all the hope in the world as you gagged at the tongue. “There. Are you really pregnant?”

“Oof.” You blew out a breath. “That’s a toughy.”

“That’s a toughy?” Tom asked in exasperation. You could see his leg bouncing under the table from anticipation but you wanted to drag it out just a little longer.

“Yeah. I mean, I really want to tell you, but this cow tongue also looks really good.” You teased him, making him let out a whine.

“She’s got a point, there.” James nodded, squeezing your hand under the table to congratulate you.

“No she doesn’t!” Tom exclaimed. “Baby? Are you actually pregnant?”

You knew Tom couldn’t take the suspense anymore and broke into a grin.

“Yes.” You told him. “I’m pregnant. We’re pregnant.”

“Really? We’re gonna have a baby?” Toms eyes welled with tears as he covered his mouth with both his hands. He’d been wanting to start a family for a while now but you hadn’t had any luck in conceiving.

Until now.

“Yeah, honey. We’re gonna have a baby.” You reached across the table and rubbed his hand with your thumb before pointing finger guns at the camera. “Keep watching to find out who the father is!”

The audience, who had been busy cheering at your news, switched to laughter.

“She’s kidding. It’s me.” Tom assured the audience.

“He’s kidding.” You insisted. “It’s Benedict!”

“Congratulations to the both of you.” James said sincerely. “I think that just about wraps this up this segment. My producer is going to be very happy with me for getting that information out of you without even asking.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at him as he leaned in to press a congratulatory kiss on your cheek. Tom finally broke out of his shocked state and got out of his chair, rushing to you and practically pulling you out of your seat to hug you. His hug was firm but gentle all at the same time, especially around your tummy. He pressed your face into his neck and you heard him sniffle, making you take his hand and put it on your tummy.

“We have about three minutes of commercial break. Excellent job guys.” James said as he got out of his seat. “That was definitely the best Spill Your Guts we’ve ever done. I might have to hire Y/n as a writer here.” He joked.

“Thanks for having us James. All three of us.” You said as you pulled away from Tom. Tom kept a protective hand on your tummy as you rubbed circles on his back.

“I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I’m so happy for you both. That’s beautiful.” James shook Toms hand to congratulate him as well.

“Well when you plank all over someone and don’t use a-

“That’s enough.” Tom cut you off but kept his smile on. “That’s enough for today.”

You leaned into him and took his hand, kissing the back of it as you all walked back towards the main stage.

“Can you believe we met planking on each other for a video and now we’re having a baby?” You asked him.

“I know.” He shook his head in pleasant shock. “We should name our baby BBC, since we met at BBC radio 1.

“You suggesting that tells me you don’t know the other meaning of BBC.” You laughed as you took a seat on James’s couch.

“What’s the other meaning?” Tom looked at you in confusion. You laughed gleefully and patted Toms cheek, always delighted by his innocence.

“Oh, Tom.” You sighed. “I’ll let you google that one.”

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[visd3stele]

Remus image - angst & fluff

*mostly angst with a tinsy bit of fluff

*forced marriage trope

summary: you're a Slytherin pure blood dating Remus Lupin, but your family has other plans

TW: none

A/N: any thoughts and opinions are welcomed. I'd love your reviews. Requests are open, too, if any of you are interested in that

masterlist

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

You're staring at the high ceiling, wide awake and way past the middle of the night. In your hands, an envelope is twitching with every move of your fingers, twisting its corners anxiously. You received it at dinner that night, the letter from your family. And wisely waited until the privacy of your room to open it. Around you, pure bloods Slytherins were sound asleep. You made sure not to let any emotion show, on your face or voice. Something everyone in between the walls of the Slytherin residence could most likely do.

You read it once. Then again and again until each word, each letter carved its mark in your brain. Carefully, you folded it back, wrapping it in the thick layer of the envelope. Despite having stopped reading it, the news your family dropped on you kept on repeat in your mind. Over and over and over. Marriage. They found you a perfect, pure blood spouse to marry. No matter that you were still in school. And only sixteen. And already having a boyfriend.

But of course, that last part might be exactly why your blood supremacist family decided to take your love life in their hands at last. For you were dating Remus Lupin, head boy of Griffindor. Involuntarily your lips moved upward at the mere thought of him. The way his soft brown hair feels under your palms when he lays his head in your lap in the afternoon – that is when you convince him to take a break from learning for a change. Your smiled deepened. The way his scarred hands stroke your face right before he leans in to kiss you. You blushed in the dark. The way his eyes sparkle after one of the Marauders notorious pranks. The way he rolls his eyes and leave a snarky comments to any Slytherin who mock your relationship and how it only masks his own fears and self doubts.

Now you were crying. You'll have to break up with him. You'll have to break up with him without bringing the marriage up. You didn't want him to think back on what could have been years after. It's better if he thinks there is no chance anymore to be with you. And you had to do it quick. News spread in the pure blood community and risking lying about your parents intention only to fool yourself a bit longer with stolen happy times was as self destructive as it can get at this point.

You slipped your body on one side. And tossed. The envelope fell off your bed. You didn't bother to pick it up. But someone did. You felt it rather than hear it, someone picking it up and placing it on your nightstand.

" 'Morning," that sweet voice you loved so much whispered. And you snapped your head towards it in shock. Only to find a very uncomfortable Remus Lupin, switching from leg to leg, smiling awkwardly at you.

"It's five in the morning." He stated before you could find your words through the foggy veil of your thoughts. "And the sunrise is about to start..." Remus went on, looking anywhere but at you.

More tears sting your eyes, threatening to slide down your cheeks and getting completely out of your control. Here he was, your perfect boyfriend, sneaking in your bedroom to take you to see the sunrise. For you, this boy defined romance and no amount of scars, secret disappearances on the full moon and mysteries surrounding it could change that. You were more than willing to give him time, let him open up to you when he feels like it. After all, he has great friends to share secrets with and you wouldn't get in between them.

Biting your lips, you closed the distance and hugged him tight. After less than a second of hesitation, Remus put his hands around you as well. You needed it, the proximity, the safety, the warmth and love. When you were sure your voice won't break, you breathed a question to him. "And how are you planning to sneak me out?"

Remus saw right through your attempt. He pulled back a little, enough to brush his fingers over your swollen face. "Have you been crying?" Worry clouded those beautiful brown eyes. You shook your head, snatching yourself from him and desperately wiping your tears. You should do it now. Tell him it's over. Spare him – and yourself – for the pain and torture of stretching it longer. It was time to face it: your relationship was doomed from the start.

But you couldn't. Not yet. Just a little more time, you bargained with yourself. Just that sunrise together. One last date. You promised to no one. So you made yourself swallow and said instead "My family," dismissing any further remarks.

Remus pulled you back into his lean body, long arms the only thing holding you together. He needed no other explanation. Thanks to that friend of his, Sirius, Remus knew exactly what those two words meant coming from a pure blood kid. He pressed a kiss on top of your head, caressing your back in soothing large circles. Voice dipped with concern, he asked "Do you want to talk about it or do you want me to distract you?"

"What about taking me to see that sunrise you mentioned and we'll figure it out from there?"

He nodded, led you to the now slightly opened window and motioned for his broom flying within reach.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

The sun beamed from between rare clouds, spread amongst a royal blue sky. Orange light crowned the ascending golden disc, fading into a soft purple and light pink at its edges. The curtain of morning mist broke the rays in matt bliss, wrapping around your entangled figures.

A wet coldness flew on with the tentative mist, but Remus planned everything ahead, it seemed. He had a wool blanket at ready, different bits and pieces of clothing, threads and patches sewed together.

"Don't tell me you picked up knotting, Moony." You didn't know when it happened, but you had taken on calling him by the silly nickname his friends did.

"No. My mother made it, actually." The scar on his lip pulled up as he patted the spot next to him. He had laid a blanket on the freshly cut grass near the Black Lake and held his mother's gift in a silent invitation.

You snuggled in, circling his waist with your arms and nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck. "Y/n!" he exclaimed, a shiver running through him at the contact with your cold skin. You sent him a grin that had nothing to do with apologies and you both snickered before turning awe filled eyes to the sunrise.

Remus let his own head lean down on your own, brown hair slightly brushing your forehead. His hand found its way to yours and as your fingers laced together he rubbed his thumb on top of your palm.

Content silence settled in. Only birds dared sing a sharp note once in a while. Your boyfriend knew how to choose a date spot, you were more than happy to give him that. The marvelous sight the sky presented doubled in the lake's still waters. Calmness washed over you. Here and now, with Remus' hand in yours, your head resting on his shoulder, everything pieced into place.

You turned your face, meeting the warn off material of his shirt and placed a kiss there. Lifting your lips upward, you kissed his exposed neck as well. Then his cheek, lingering close to his lips before stopping to murmur "I love you, Remus Lupin! So, so much."

He met your lips with his own and you were thankful he said nothing about the pang in your voice. "And I you, my darling." His glittering eyes, filled with adoration and care, were too much for your heart to bear. It was all you could do to close your eyelids tight and press into his side even more.

"Is something wrong, y/n?" Remus asked, shifting his arm to welcome your new position.

"No. Nothing. Just overwhelmed by everything I feel for you." And in a way, it was true. Not the whole truth, but as you couldn't give him that...

An unsure smiled played on your lips. He brought your face to his again, laying a kiss on your nose. You scrunch it up and made a face at him. He tried to bit back his laugh, but failed as a bundle of it escaped in a soft breath, tingling your flushed cheeks.

Remus kissed you again, this time on the bridge of your nose. Which earned him a giggle and a wide smile. Bringing your hands to his face, you cupped his cheeks and touched your noses together.

"We're missing the sunrise. And you put so much effort in this."

"Hmmm," he mused, leaning in your touch. "The sun does much of the work, to be fair." You burst in laughing at that, shaking your forehead against his.

You two traded more kisses – and then some more, bathed in the dawn light of a new day.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

"Where have you been?" You heard James Potter asked your boyfriend when you bumped in him and the rest of the Marauders in the hall.

Peter waved at you, while Sirius gave you a knowing smirk at which you rolled your eyes. Truth be told, their demand wasn't misplaced. You and Remus didn't show up at breakfast, and run late for the first class.

"Down at the lake, Prongs. I should know better than to ask for notes, right?"

"Not to worry, Moony, you didn't miss much."

You left Remus to his friends, brushing your lips to his as a form of good-bye. You headed to your room. Thoughts swirled in your mind, flying by so fast you barely registered them. You passed Narcissa and Lucius on your way. They have been married since year four, something you found very unsettling. At that time, you belittled Narcissa for not fighting off her families wishes, like her sister and cousin. But now, that you found yourself in her place? You started to understand. To understand that courage is not so easy to haul up from whatever pit it lays dormant in one's being.

So lost in thoughts, you haven't noticed the guy sitting on your bed until he spoke, voice laced with disgust. "You better kick that sorry excuse of a wizard away before we make our engagement public, honey."

You startled. "Who...?"

"Why, your new husband, of course."

"Future husband. And Remus is a fine wizard, greater than you could ever hope to be."

The stranger only rolled his eyes and huffed. "Whatever you say, honey. Just make him gone by noon. I have plans for us before the ceremony."

A ceremony that would take place in a few months, once summer blooms, you realized, dread chilling your blood in your veins. The tight line of your lips followed your betrothed until he left and swiped the door close.

Noon. Break up with Remus by noon. Make it look like it's over because there is no love anymore. Let him think you choose this smug, full of himself, brainless, boorish brute over him. It's the right course of action. So you told yourself. And so you did. Any hope for standing up against your family gone.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Wind howling outside, rain pouring, you thought the weather mocked you. It just happened to turn gloomy and morbid all of a sudden, when you were about to break the heart of the most precious boy in the whole school. And yours too in the progress.

"Remus, can we talk for a second?"

"Sure, what is it?" He turned his whole focus on you, dropping mid conversation with his mates about whatever prank they were up to next.

"Moony!" three offended sighs followed you as you dragged Remus to a more private spot. The way he no more than waved at his friends, giving all up for you, knowing you had a bad day, strung a painful chord in your soul. You did not deserve this boy. Maybe the wedding was a good thing after all.

"Hey, y/n, talk to me," Remus whispered when you came to a halt. His fingers searched for yours, trying to turn you around to face him. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here for you. We'll fix it."

"No." You said, and cursed your weak voice. You still didn't face him. "No we won't fix this." You spoke again, this time with more surety, allowing a sharp edge to it.

Bless his too kind soul, he didn't balk away. Instead, he took one stop forward, resting his head on your spine and bringing his long arms around you. "Everything's gonna be fine, y/n. I promise."

It took a superhuman effort to break free of his embrace. And you finally swirled to meet his soft brown eyes. Tears rolled down, dripping from your chin, but you didn't let him comfort you. Shacking your head, you took another step back, building distance between you, as if the following words would hurt less that way.

"Everything's not gonna be fine, Remus. Not with us. Not anymore."

For a couple seconds, he stared at you, confusion painting his beautiful features. Then, realization sunk in. And in that moment, you were sure nothing could ever hurt you as badly as his pain struck expression. His parted lips, moving in vain to form words that doesn't exist. His frenzy eyes, looking all over yourself, searching for any sign of a cruel joke. For a trace that you weren't being serious. Eyes that begin to water when he found none.

But he refuse to let the tears flow. Remus led his stare to a dark, far away corner of the empty hall. Heat colored his face, a light shade of pink that not even the cool from the open window couldn't beat down. "So that's why you were distant this morning?" Your boyfriend asked, bitterly even as his voice was small, lost. "That's why you avoided me all day and didn't look me in the eye once, more than a passing moment?"

You knew better than answer. You had nothing to say anyway. "I'm sorry, Remus. I've been meaning to tell you earlier..."

A razor sharp laugh bit your words off. "But you took pity on the poor half-blood."

No, no it wasn't like that, you wanted to say. Those remained only thoughts as you wiped your face and crossed your arms to keep them from reaching out. Reaching out to him, reassure him, hug him. Whatever he believed, you'd roll with it. If he thought you an evil pure blood, then fine! You'll be that.

An image of your mother's face, lips curled in disgust at the last Quidditch match when Slytherin lost again in favor of Gryffindor, served as model for the expression you forced your own face into.

"I didn't want it to be like this. Goodbye, Remus Lupin."

You turned. And left. Just left. You kept your back straight as you walked away from the boy who tickled your heart. Who placed feather light kissed on your cheeks, and nose and forehead for days into your relationship, too shy to initiate something more without your worded agreement. The wizard who helped you with assignments, not thinking anything less of you when you weren't perfect. Who let you fall asleep in his lap at Hogwarts' few parties that you couldn't stand due to your family. This guy who gave you everything you were too afraid to dream of. And you just walked away, as if couldn't be bothered to care.

His fist thrumming once on the hallway's wall filled your ears, a sound forever carved in your brain. The thud that followed, of him sliding down on the floor you guessed, printed an image in your mind you'll pray to forget. Remus' silent sobs, though, almost made you turn around and run towards him.

You didn't so much as cast a glance back, knowing what you'll see and too much of a coward to bear it. His body shaking with crying, knees cradled to up to his chest where his chin digged in, covered by lean arms with palms crossed over his head.

His friends would find him. They'd help him. Remus will move over and forget you. Each sentence was another step. Each step, another crack in your heart. By the time you reached your room, collapsed in your bed and twisted in a similar position to your boyfriend's – ex boyfriend. It made you understand, showed you far too clearly why he'd sit like that. The pure devastation and despair, the attempt to contain a hollowness within, to replace a part where a whole, happy heart used to beat.

You broke Remus Lupin's heart. And yours was just as shattered. And there was no going back from it now.

PART 2

[plush-rabbit]

Sickness - Mammon + Leviathan

Request: Hewwo, I'm sick atm :') and I wanted some comfort. Could you possibly do Levi and Mammon (hc or fic idc) with an S/O that gets super distant and moody when sick and they're liable to insult people (although they don't mean to) and they end up insulting the boys, and apologizing after they feel better.. if you can't don't worry about it :')

A/N: Get some rest!! Love you and take care!! (i think they would try to care but like they’re demons and they can be a bit too much at times)

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Mammon:

Mammon likes spending time with you and he wants you to be at your best as soon as possible. He’ll do whatever he can to make you feel better because you’re his human and he can’t have one of his possessions go on and croak on him. You’re sick and terribly so given your complexion and how warm you feel. He’s been around other humans to know that they aren’t supposed to be this warm and he’ll do light research into what will make you feel better the quickest. He does his best to give you what you need- ramen made by him and plenty of water. As your first, he places it upon himself to make you feel better in any possible way that he can help. Demons naturally have a high immune system and human sickness isn’t something that he’s too worried about, so he’s able to spend as much time as possible with you in order to make you feel better.

While you enjoy spending your time with the second-born, you’re also sick and your nerves and mindset are extremely sensitive. His constant presence, while something that you do usually enjoy, is now something that is suffocating. Surprisingly, he’s very high in emotional intelligence, so when he senses that you're starting to grow a bit distant, he loosens up a bit, but he isn’t able to for long. While he is own demon, he really enjoys spending time with you and having you sick limits the time he gets to be around you. His eagerness gets the best of him, and he keeps pushing himself onto you. Rather than resting, you’re listening to him, helping him do his homework and having him complain to you about the day he’s had. He means well, but he’s pushy.

He can feel that you’re starting to get distant, that your initial pleasure is starting to fade and leave him, but he isn’t sure what else he can do. He’s doing everything that he can, or at least, he's keeping you company. Your patience is wearing thin, your body all sort of annoyed and stiff, you simply can’t be bothered to entertain him any longer. You hope that he’ll get the hint when you stop speaking, that he’ll figure that you're tired and just not in the mood, but he doesn’t. Every bit of you feels awful and you can only sulk as he continues to toss ideas your way. In a fit of anger, you lash out, harsh words spat out as you hide your face and look away from him, begging for him to leave. Wanting to do what he can to make you happy, he leaves your room without a word.

You’re left in silence, the only sound is your deep breaths that you take through your mouth and the blood rushing through your ears. The sleep that follows is upsetting, unable to get comfortable in your bed, your way to recovery is long without proper rest. During your remainder of sickness, you are unbothered by a certain demon, the only contact is a messaging and even that is scarce.

Once you feel better- at least enough to not be so easily over-stimulated, you make your way to his room, knocking on his door, waiting for an answer. Mammon lets you in with a simple “open,” and can only give you a quick glance before he turns away from you. When you sit beside him. The corner of his lips twitch, his face hardening and he doesn’t glance at you until you call his name. You hurt him, and you feel awful about it. You apologize- he had been trying to do a good thing, you hadn’t meant to be so snappy. His eyes are downcast, his hands dropping the magazine beside him, and gives you a tired grin and shrugs. You aren’t fond of his answer, you know how he’s teased and you inadvertently became one of them. You push yourself close to him, your hand covering his and you offer to take him out to eat- a thank you for taking care of you while he did.

Levi:

When Leviathan finds out that you’re feeling under the weather, he uses that to his advantage to have an anime-slash-gaming marathon with you. He already doesn’t like going out, he’s been meaning to complete or at least start on a few more series so having you sick is sort of a good thing to happen to you and to him. Plus, he’s a demon so your human sickness won’t affect him as strongly as it is you. He’s a bit more forward, his enthusiasm taking over and overwriting the more reserved nature of his. In his hands, he holds two plastic bags full of snacks, filled with candies that you both enjoy and energy drinks to keep you feeling energized and less likely to fall asleep.

Suffice to say, he doesn’t take notice of your sickness, but rather uses you stuck in bed to advance in shows that he wants to watch with you. It’s not that he doesn’t care, but his eagerness gets ahead of him, his need to complete things taking over. As the marathon continues, unhealthy snacks eaten, energy drinks that unsettle your stomach and make you buzz in your bed while loud music and flashing colors flash brightly against you, make you feel even worse. Any other day, you would have sung along to the opening with the demon, but now, all you want to do is tell him to just be quiet.

The environment is starting to get too much- your body hot and the skin that you wear feeling uncomfortably tight and you’re all too aware of where you sit- a messy bed with empty wrappers and bags. You tell him some awfully foul words, your throat sore and eyes wide, nails digging into your palm desperate for an ounce of blood to be shed. He sits in silence while you double over, the taste of chocolate thick on your tongue and making the acid all too sweet, and you can hear him scutter, wrapper crinkling under his hand and the laptop closing, followed by your door closing shut. You’re left alone with a growing headache and feeling even worse than you had done before.

It isn’t long before your sickness starts to pass over, relief flooding throughout you. The following days, he avoids you, not a step inside of your room and the only acknowledgement that you’re given by him is a “get well soon message”. It’s then that you groan in embarrassment and guilt. You hadn’t meant to snap at him but to be fair, you were sick and he wasn’t trying to make you feel better, he was trying to do things he normally enjoyed doing with you without regard to how you felt. No matter the amount of messages you send him, all that he responds with are one worded messages or simple emotes.

You knock on his door, his voice muted by the door, the volume steadily growing louder as he finishes his reply. The knob is cold underneath your hand as you turn it, surprised to find it open without having to resort to using a password. You call his name and he refuses to look at you, the air in the room thick as his gaze focused on the screen in front of him. Leviathan barely gives you a glance, his back straightened as you stand next to him, your hand on his shoulder. The screen is frozen, his controller placed down and he gives you a sour look, his lips pursed and brows furrowed. You apologize to him, your hand sliding across his back to his other shoulder, your chin resting on the now empty one. You hadn’t meant to snap, you were feeling sick and awful, but that was no excuse to tell him such awful words. You tilt your head, and he meets your eyes, his cheeks tinted with a peach hue. The air in the room is a bit more breathable, you smile at him and knock your head against his, apologizing to him once more and that if he’s still up for it, you’d love to have a proper anime marathon with him.