#Been sneezing a storm and been sick for the past few days with no sign of getting better smh

[clownsuu]

Can you draw craig and octavio beatinf the shit out of each other (or kissing)

The Grandpas are true lovers to enemies to lovers (to enemies to lovers to-)

Also it’s basically the same thing smhhhhhh

[sillyruinsfox]

Birthday Blues

PAIRINGS: Avengers X reader,

Steve Rogers X reader

WARNINGS : Explicit use of swear words, mentions of period blood.

SYNOPSIS : Y/N is sick and the Avengers have forgotten her birthday. Hence she is also mad and her uterus decided to spontaneously explode.

AUTHORS NOTE : Hey people! This is my first Avengers fanfic, so I would really appreciate the feedback. Also hope you enjoy it! The second part I have yet to write but I will post it soon. Toodles!

It had been a gruelling day. For starters, you had woke up with blood pooled on your white linen sheets- it was obvious. Even your uterus was conspiring against you. Second, your hair had gone on strike and refused to sit in a pony tail. The lonliness had gotten to it too, it spontaneously reshaped itself to look like a bird's nest, hoping for some fly company.

To top all this off, you had caught a cold. To illustrate how it looked, bigfoot was know for his big feet (obviously) and you shall be known for your nose. Red and irritated. Just like you felt at this very moment.

You weren't usually such an incorrigible grump, but it was your birthday tomorrow and your team mates showed no sign of remembering, despites the bomb-like obvious hints you had constantly dropped for the past week. There is nothing as irritating in the world as an itch you can't reach and your stupid ass friends not remembering your birthday. The unfortunate part is that you knew the lot were stupid before you became friends with them.

This was good enough reason to put anyone in a bad mood right? Oh but there's worse! Your one and only boyfriend, Shmaptan Schemerica (blame the stupid pronunciation on your blocked nose) a.k.a Steve Rogers had been way to busy running some shit or the other with Fury to even have a proper conversation with you this past week.

You decided enough was enough. If these asshats didn't remember your birthday, you were going to celebrate it on your own. And you promised yourself not to melt when Natasha or Pietro apologized later on. Those two were manipulative as fuck.

At midnight you woke up with your nose blocked three ways to hell and decided that the only way to celebrate was with medicine and a cup of hot chocolate. The sugar would kill you throat- sure, but what is a little death for a professional assasin?

You made your way down the stairs wrapped up in a thick blanket, looking like the aftermath of a war. Your footsteps heavy and echoing in the large stairwell. As you made your way into the common room, you found it unusually dark, the rest of New York looked like a festival in comparison. You opened the kitchen door and immidiately heard the flip of the lightswitch and turned 180°, on high alert. It proved to be a good choice as a large cylindrical object, burst in your face, throwing conffeti all over it. You heard a loud 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!' in the background.

The conffeti had triggered another sneeze fest. After the 5th sneeze, you looked up to see the Avengers dressed for a casual party, looking at you awkwardly.

Steve was the first one to speak up,'Jeez, Y/N. We didn't realize you were so sick!'

You shot him a dry glare, trying to control your volcanic anger,'Jeez Steve! I'm so sorry you didn't! If only I saw you lately, I would have told you sweetie!', you cast a look around the room. Most of them stood awkwardly, Tony was the only one with the gall to look mildly amused.

You stormed into the kitchen making yourself a cup of hot chocolate. Vision came in, ' Are you okay Ms. Y/N?'

You had a soft spot for the transparent AI. He was sweet and understanding and a great listner. It always felt safe being vulnerable with him, you said,' No Viz. I'm tired and I can't breathe or talk properly. I have been extremely sad and angry that none of you remembered my birthday for the past few days and nothing is going my way!', as you said this, Viz looked at your hair.

'That obvious huh?', you asked him, a small laugh bubbling out of you.

He tactfully ignored that and moved on, 'we didn't mean to hurt you, we just wanted it to be a suprise.'

'Oh I know Viz. It's just..... I don't know. I am confused and sad. Knowing that cake awaits me on the other side of this wall makes me a little happier. Can we go to the cake?'

Vision smiled and swept his hand as if to tell you to go first. As you entered the common room again, Steve came rushing.

He placed a hand on you cheek and said in an extremely apologetic manner,' I'm so sorry babaycakes. I should have come up to check on you.'

You almost melted, but your ego decided to wage forntal attack, ' You've had a piece of my cake honeybuns and you know that it's not baby sized and I hope the actual cake you got me right now isn't either!'

[miyalove]

[ ❄ ]— SNOWED IN.

⤷ pairing. roommate!miya atsumu x fem!reader

⤷ genre. smut, fluff, humor, college au, and they were roommates au

⤷ warnings. swearing, dom!atsumu, sub!reader, ass slapping, begging, atsumu is 1000% a tease, oral (male receiving),  praise, choking on atsumu’s (large) dick, domestic sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, penetrative sex, sex without a condom (please, be safe ya’ll), hickeys, *unedited

3.5k | being snowed in with a broken heater is anything but ideal. when your favorite thick blanket and the layers of fluffy sweaters no longer cut it, your roommate ask of you something you just can’t turn down.

five days.

it has been five days in which the snow storm forced you and atsumu to stay inside. the first day was fine. the power hadn’t went out and your heater was set to a temperature that you and atsumu agreed on. your phones and other electronics were fully charged and ready to use for emergencies or for quick netflix binges. everything was okay.

day two came a little harsher. waking up with your hairs on the back of your neck standing, you realized the power had finally went. it was sometime in the early morning, but even within a short time span the chilly air was still able to nip through the interior. no power meant no heater or hot water. the day dragged on just like anyone would expect. atsumu had complained for hours upon hours. screeching dramatically and throwing his body on the floor like a child who wasn’t allowed to eat candy before dinner.

day three was just as bad if not worse. no amount of blankets and thick winter coats could fight off the cold. you wake up with your teeth chattering, your body shaking, and to top it all off, you think you might be getting sick too. you could tell night had finally came when everything got immensely worst. your breath frosted and sneezing between you and atsumu was non-stop. this was also the day you proposed that the two of you cuddle up for extra warmth. it was a casual conversation that you had to murmur between glassy breaths.

reluctantly, atsumu agreed. at first, he turned away saying something about not “liking the cuddling lifestyle”. you rolled your eyes at his claim because everyone loves cuddles. you had gotten excited at the aspect of showing him what a good session can awaken within. your theory was proven right later into the night though. you rested your head on his shoulder, using some candle light to read through a chapter of a book you’ve been into recently. an exciting thriller that has you anticipatingly flipping through page after page.

atsumu was doing his own thing though. what it was? you didn’t know. really you weren’t paying attention. even when he hummed and grumbled lowly a few times, your brushed it off. not wanting to stray away from the words on the pages, you hoped he worked out whatever his problem is by himself. the last straw though was when his fingers slowly creeped up your thigh.

you shifted your attention, eyeing the man besides you. he boldly holds your stare. he’s daring enough to put on a nonchalant expression, face completely relaxed. his hues shine with something hidden behind them. something you can’t quite make out but they have you not wanting to look away. he doesn’t say anything and for a while the two of you just stare. 

when you drop the book was when he finally pounced. 

“’bout damn time,” he teases. 

in seconds, he pulls you close. your back flush against his chest and his arms pulled you in by your middle, resting there. your sat in between his crossed legs. you had no words at first. everything had happened so fast. for a second you sit there wide-eyed and in shock, fazed and stare lingering in the darkness. then you felt  the comforting warmth slowly creep in. when he spoke, the vibration in his chest felt inviting and things went lax again.

“keep your mouth open ‘nd a fly ‘ill get in there.” you can’t help but laugh.

“whatever happened to ‘not the cuddling type’, huh?”

“shut the fuck up,” venomous words but the way he dug his nose into your neck proved the opposite. 

day four went the same way except now you were both all over each other. the night before had broken something between the two of you that wasn’t just roommates status anymore. he’s become a friend and someone you actually look forward to hanging out and talking with. you see pass his honestly and realize that he’s actually quite charming too. atsumu had thrown you tons of curveballs that day and getting to know him was fun. you recall when you where practically straddling his lap, your hands roaming anywhere and everywhere. 

you faced him, eyes soft and laughter apparent because who knew he was a jokester too. gently caressing at his sharp jaw then sliding down to his firm pecs. your hands roamed his body like an ocean waiting to be ventured. with every feather-like touch, you learned another thing that day. miya atsumu is incredibly attractive. you’ll never admit it to him (because you also learned that miya atsumu has an incredibly large ego), but you must be insane if it took you a damn snow storm to realize something that’s so blaringly obvious.

day five was the day he came to you with that intimate proposal. cuddling in any and every position possible was something that was easy for you to do. you’ve warmed up with close friends, both male and female, so you could say that the special act doesn’t truly mean anything, but this– dear god, this man will be the death of you. 

“you want to– what?” you practically screech. you jump back from his body, already missing the heat, but you want to look him dead in the eyes. his eyes, are the most expressive thing about him. atsumu can lie and tease but there was no getting past him when you gazed into his golden hues, but was he really saying what you think he was saying?

“cuddling and all that can only do so much, yanno?” silence. but he goes on anyway, “thought this was a more... practical solution.” and in pure atsumu matter, he doesn’t stray away from you. looking you dead in the eye with all the confidence in the world. there’s no teasing smile or sarcastic cackle. he’s serious. this attractive man that has women constantly falling at his feet... wants to fuck you.

“this is like for the warmth and all that... right?” you’re hesitant. he can see it in the way you look at him. your hues are clouded with all sorts of swirling emotions; concern, worry, uncertainty. he thinks about taking it back. but it’s far too late for doubt now.

“yeah, for the heat,” he repeats it to reassure you or maybe to reassure himself, he doesn’t know. atsumu sits before you. his hair messy from all the times you ran your hand through it and his cheeks are slightly colored pink. why was this such an awkward conversation to have? there’s a constructing feeling in his chest. he feels like he’s suffocating like every breath he takes is stopped by words trying to choke themselves out of his throat. perhaps it’s the cold finally getting to him or maybe it’s the way the candle light perfectly frames your face. 

“so are ya in?”

it’s the way he bit at his lips that get you contemplating. the way he looked at ready to take you whenever and wherever you asked. it was the anxious way he his leg bounced and the ghost-like circles he was rubbing into your thigh. it set ablaze a trail of desire wherever he touched. it laced your veins with adrenaline and lust made for him by him. him, him, him.

when you leaned into his lips was when he finally got an answer. 

“oh, shit,” you sink down on him as the words leave his mouth.

your lips wrapped around him and he mumbles something thing under his breath that you can’t really catch. the warmth from your tongue makes his stomach tighten. the sight from above looks incredible. your down on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and your sweet little ass on display just for him. atsumu lays right at the edge of your bed, legs spread just wide enough for you to kneel between them. one hand pets at your hair, lacing it between your locks.

the way you expertly circle his tip and how your hands play with his balls, makes him sees stars behind his lids. his stomach tenses with every swallow, every small hum that erupts from your throat. god, you are going to be the death of him. when you look up, you let out a small moan, absolutely loving atsumu’s fucked out expression. his thin lips pout at you, his chest is heavy and falls unevenly. it motivates you, the way he groans and grunts; the way he falls apart at your touch.

“just like that, doll. mhm,” he praises. when you look up, his eyes are half-lidded, clouded with lust meant only for you. a small smirk plays at his lips. he’s completely enamored, sweat beads at his forehead and you don’t think he’s ever looked prettier.

your jaw goes slack when you feel his hips buck. you bob your head, gladly welcoming his shallow thrust. the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue while he forces you to slide further down makes heat between your legs pool. atsumu takes your humming as a sign to go deeper. soon you’re nose is pressed up on his skin and you’re choking on his cock.

“you’re so pretty like this,” he punctuates his praise with a harsh slap to your ass. the sudden movement makes you fly forward, effortlessly swallowing his dick down again. atsumu is clearly caught off guard. he let’s out a surprised mewl, hip stuttering at the overwhelming pleasure.

“fuck– with y- your mouth full of my cock.”

his grip tightens with every thrust. your scalp burns with all the harsh tugging. there’s droll and snot leaking down from your face but it’s all worth it. your lungs burn, begging you for any kind of air. like he was reading your mind, he lets off of you for few seconds. the lewd pop that follows after rips through the empty room as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on his face. 

even with your heavy panting and watery eyes, atsumu doesn’t exactly let up. his length rest, merely inches away from your face. he pets at your hair, tugging your locks to give him more access to your neck. you shudder when he starts peppering your skin with soft kisses. your eyes flutter close, enjoying the way he nips and sucks at your neck. that’s definitely going to leave a mark, but you don’t find yourself caring. 

his mouth goes to work while his other hand roams your valley. without hesitation, atsumu slides his hand lower cupping your ass. “fits like a gem,” you hear him mumble between sloppy sucking. the breath he lets out tickles your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

his hand slides up to your front, grazing your nipples through the thick lace of your bra. opening your eyes, you look up just in time to see his gaze darken. reaching higher, atsumu cups the back of your neck. there’s a moment in which he stills. golden eyes bore into your own hues. a plain of emotions swirl within him. admiration in the way he smiles at you, hunger in the way he bits his lips. his hair is messy, tousled with all the times you delicately laced your fingers through them and his lips are swollen from the way he was marking you.

there’s only one word that comes to mind; “pretty.”  you didn’t mean it aloud, but when it comes to atsumu your brain short circuits and all sense is thrown out the window. you feel your face heat up at the embarrassingly simple compliment. 

“speakin’ about yerself, now?” of course, he would. typical atsumu miya with his smooth words that make all the panties drop (including yours). you let out a breathy giggle, liking the way your checks ache with all the smiling. without another thought, his head dips down to your own capturing your lips in a heated kiss. 

it’s lazy and sloppy. all teeth and tongue and no space to breath or think, but you like it like this. you like atsumu like this. raw, exposed, and yours. his hands roam to the back of your thighs, pinching slightly in hopes you get the hint. he wants you. now. 

without breaking away, you lean into atsumu. his back gently lands on your sheets, pillows and blankets shaping his tone body to perfection. you brace your arms to help with the fall, successfully trapping him between your body.

“atsumu,” you say, breaking free. 

“hhm?”

“please, fuck me.”

he chuckles, “say less, doll.”

pulling your sweatpants down, his big hands grope your ass in the process. he moves quickly, rushing to get you ready for him. in one swift moment, your underwear is gone and thrown carelessly somewhere.

“you’re so shameless, baby, with that demanding mouth,” flipping you over, you’re under him now. body perfectly, angled so he can see your pretty features  shift whenever he fucks you just right. he loves seeing your mouth agape. loves how you hang off every word, how your body quivers with every touch, how you cry and moan his name. it’s beautiful. you’re beautiful. 

he leaves a trail of kisses down your body until he’s mere inches away from your cunt. his fingers brush against the thin lining of your panties. why you still have them on is beyond him. arousal leaks through the material while atsumu presses against your heat.

“ah– ‘tsumu,” your breathing is frantic when he presses a fleeting kiss on your clothes core. “you’re such a t-tease.” 

he doesn’t say anything. allowing his actions to speak for him. he teases you, hooking his fingers under the thin lace. the way his cold digits brush at your heat makes for a delicious contrast. 

“you look so good,” he purrs pressing a kiss to the inner part of your thigh. “and you’re absolutely fuckin’ dripping. bet i could just slide right into ya.” his fingers are relentless, they ghost over your clit tracing feather-like circles. it’s enough for short spikes of pleasure to rush through you but just as quickly as they come, they’re gone.

“do you want me?”

“god, yes.”

“beg for it then.”

like clock work, you do. “please, ‘tsumu. i need you so bad right now. your hands, your tongue, your cock-- everything. please, i just wanna feel you so bad.”

“ehh,” he ponders before pressing a kiss to your thighs. “could be better.”

it’s stupid the way your heart flutters at his playful teasing. looking up at him through your hazy eyes, you try your best to muster up the perfect puppy dog face. “please, ‘tsumu?” 

he lets out a huff, “god, you’re so annoying.” everything happens so fast. one second, atsumu is softly pecking at your neck. the next he’s roughly grabbing at you, complete man-handling. 

he pulls you impossibly closer. there is no warning or preparation. he rams himself into you, completely taken over by the way your tight pussy swallows him whole. the burn feels fucking painful, you can’t help the screams that tremble from your lips. 

“oh my f-fucking-- mhpm, god!” he’s so big, in length and thickness. moans fill the room while he fills you up. your hot, wet walls clench around him and he groans at the delicious feeling.

“yer so fucking tight, holy shit.” he nuzzles his nose into your neck. “love this cunt so fucking much.” another slap to the ass that rips a deep moan from you.

“please, ‘tsumu,” you pant.

and at that moment, something within him finally snaps. pulling out from your sopping cunt, the tip of his dick rest within you, then in the same second he slams back into your entrance. lewd moans rip from the both of you while pure euphoria runs through your blood. you arch you back, pressing your chest to his, eyes rolling back every time he rams back into you. with each thrust and roll of your hip, his dick rubs at the spot that makes you see stars.

“you feel so good,” you whimper out watching as his dick pumps in and out of your pussy. “filling me up so good-- fuck, with your big dick.”

he shudders at your words, head coming down to latch onto your pebbled nipples. his tongue laps around the sensitive bud while his spare hand kneads at your other breast. a sharp inhale escapes you in between sobs. his hands are freezing from the chilly air within your apartment. it’s like ice on your skin, a complete contrast to how heated you feels. the feeling knocks you back into reality; you and atsumu are fucking in the middle of a snowstorm.

“how’s that feel, babe?” you answer him with a wanton gasp.

“absolutely fucking amazing,” you punctuate your pleasure with a deep roll of your hips. atsumu chuckles, a mix of a strangled moan and teasing.

 “god, yer such a little freak.” he leans down again repeating his action to your other breast. deep thrust becoming more frequent now.

“only f-for you.” 

your words spur him on, atsumu angles his hips to pound onto the one spot that has you crying out. he has your body shaking, his name tumbles out of your mouth like a mantra while he wrecks your body, moaning into your neck. 

the knot of your pleasure tighten. it burns like a white hot coils that’s about to snap. he knows you’re close. with the way your pussy sporadically clenches around him making him groan. god, you’re almost there. he can feel it. your orgasm is right at the tip of your tongue. so close yet so fucking far. you need more and he senses that with the way you silently beg him. “harder, please-- oh, god.” 

your words get caught on your tongue. he fucks right into you with a force so hard, you might have forgotten how to breath. “yes, just l-like that. hmph.”

“fuck yeah,” he groans, nipping your neck. “so good to me, fuck. such a good girl keeping me nice and warm and shit.” at that, you squeeze around him and he lets out a lewd groan. his cold digits travel down your body, rubbing circles around your messy clit. it’s all too much. the way he expertly runts into you, the pleasure his fingers give you, the way he praises you and nips at all your sensitive spots. 

all you can manage at this point are a high pitched whimpers and pleas of his name. sweat drips down both your bodies, your walls clench around him like a vice as he tries his best to fuck you hard. every thrust brushes right at your sweet spot, clouding your vision. a fire burns within you, leaving you gasping and moaning between sobs of air. 

“cum for me, doll.”

and with his words and one last thrust, the coil finally snaps. pleasure rushes through your body in euphoric waves taking over you. your veins pump absolute bliss through you. atsumu follows soon after, painting your walls with spurts of his seed. overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure floods within you both like surges of electricity. his lips find yours as the last parts of your orgasm finally dies.

once he catches his breath, he pulls away smiling down at the way you look effortlessly gorgeous with his cum stuffed in you. you meet his hues too, mirroring the same exact smile. 

your room is dark, curtesy of the snow covering your windows. candles flicker at your nightstand, painting the room in a dim, yellowish hue. fatigue hits you like a train. all you want is to lay down, close your eyes and welcome the sweet relief of slumber. shifting around, you turn on your side body molding perfectly spooning atsumu. 

“sleepy already?” 

the bedsheets shift towards you. despite having your eyes closed, you can feel atsumu’s hues on you watching  the way your eyelashes fall perfectly on your cheek. you’re so warm and soft. effortlessly gorgeous with or without trying. your hair threads down on your pillow, spiraling to an abrupt end. he wants to run his hands through it, massaging at your scalp to sooth the aching.

then he reminds himself he can. when he’s meet with a mumbled response and a slight hum, he takes the hint. in your haze, you feel the weight of his arms wrap around your body cuddling up to you impossibly closer. 

his breath tickles at your neck, “goodnight, baby.”

(atsumu eyes the way you fall lax within his arms. your legs tangled and wrapped within the thick layers of your comforter. his heart beat rapidly and the smile on his face, despite the exhaustion that laces his veins, can't stop. atsumu isn’t an idiot. he knows what all these symptoms mean, but for now that’s a talk for another time. for now, he’ll silently thank whatever god out there for the terrible weather that brought the two of you closer then ever before. for now, he’ll enjoy the way your body molds perfectly to his.)

[simplybakugou]

Nights Like This

↝ After getting sick during a hurricane, you stay by your boyfriend’s side as you attempted to make his bleak day a little brighter.

BINGO SPACE: Cuddling

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!todoroki x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: fluff ⋆ WORD COUNT:

A/N: here’s another @bnhabookclub bingo piece! genuinely feel like this is absolute garbage because todoroki is such a difficult character for me to write honestly so i’m really sorry if my character portrayal is bad, i tried my best truly. thank you to @honghearts for requesting todoroki for this prompt! i’m sorry rosie if it’s not good :( the transparent todoroki cap is from the bnhabookclub drive.

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 08.29.2020✐

The cracking of thunder roared through the sky as raindrops pelted the window furiously. Flashes of lightning glowed through the blinds every few minutes and you couldn’t help but sigh as you peered outside through the window. The day was coming to a close and yet it had been pouring in this manner for the past few hours.

From the news you found out that many pro heroes were sent back home from their agencies and from patrol as the storm showed no sign of slowing down anytime soon. The past few days were filled with these harsh conditions as meteorologists labelled it as a hurricane, ordering people to seek shelter indoors for as long as possible until the weather wasn’t as bleak. Fortunately this meant the rate of crime was low as criminals and villains alike would not be able to ensue their chaos during a tropical storm.

You grabbed your phone as you settled back in bed, deciding to call your boyfriend. It took a few rings but he finally picked up. “Hello?” Todoroki’s voice seemed more hoarse and deep than usual, causing you to be taken aback for a second.

“Oh I was just calling ‘cause I wanted to talk to you, but are you alright, Shouto?” You asked.

You could hear Todoroki coughing before he began speaking with the same hoarseness in his voice. “It seems I’ve gotten sick… but I’m alright so don’t worry.”

“You never get sick, Shou,” you chided softly as you felt more and more concerned. “Give me a few minutes, I’ll be there soon.”

“No, wait, Y/N--” You cut the call short, not bothering to hear your boyfriend’s protests as you grabbed a raincoat, shoes, and any other belongings you needed with you. Fortunately Todoroki only lived a few blocks from your apartment so the drive wouldn’t be as trying. 

Although you knew you should probably stay inside during such harsh weather conditions like this, you couldn’t help but be concerned, knowing the countless amount of times Todoroki looked after you while you had fallen ill. It was your turn to take care of him, especially since it was so rare for him to get sick like this when he would use his quirk to regulate his body temperature. 

You parked into his driveway, scurrying inside as fast as you could to seek shelter from the rain. Even with the few seconds you stepped foot outside, you were quickly drenched as you pulled out your key to Todoroki’s home and let yourself in. 

Despite being one of the top pro heroes in the country at the time who made the most money a human could make, Todoroki was a simple person when it came to the extravagance of his home. It was a traditional Japanese style home, modeling his childhood home as it brought him a sort of comfort. Whenever you visited his house, just being inside brought a smile to your face.

You dropped your things off to the side, going towards his room as you slid the door open. He was lying in bed with a blanket covering half his body. “Shouto?”

Todoroki opened his eyes, turning his head to look at you. “Y/N, it’s too dangerous out there for you to be driving. You didn’t have to come, my love.”

You smiled at his cute pet name for you. Even during times like this he was able to verbally address you in the sweetest way possible.

“It’s okay. You live right by my place so it’s not like I’m traveling to the ends of the earth.” You leaned over his bed, placing a hand on his forehead. Your fingers felt his skin burning up and you frowned. “I’ll be right back. Let me make you something to help you feel better.”

Todoroki let out a small sigh. “Y/N…”

You waved him off. “It’s fine, Shou. Let me take care of you, alright?”

You didn’t bother to hear his response as you slipped out the door and made your way to the kitchen. You looked through his cabinets and fridge, taking whatever vegetables and other ingredients he had lying around to come up with something quick yet refreshing to eat. Finally deciding on something to whip up, you quickly went to work, chopping up the vegetables. Recalling all the times you had fallen ill as a child, you remembered your mother making your favorite soup to make you feel even a little bit better. Although you were suffering with the sickness, those moments were special as you could feel the love radiating from your mother’s cooking.

The house quickly filled up with the delicious, mouthwatering aroma of your cooking. Todoroki glanced over as you had left the door open when you left, being able to watch you work in the kitchen from his position in bed. A smile crept up his face as he fondly recalled all the times his mother would cook for him as a child in this same manner. Other than his mother and sister, you were the one woman he loved dearly and being able to have someone love him unconditionally brought joy to him in a way he would never be able to describe into words.

Within ten minutes or so you were able to finish up with your cooking, making sure to clean the space in the process. As you completed washing the dishes, you scooped some of your homemade soup into a bowl, carefully holding it in your hands as you proceeded back to Todoroki’s bedroom.

Todoroki watched as you knelt down beside his bed, smiling sweetly at him. He broke out into a fit of coughs, groaning afterwards. Beads of sweat lined across his forehead and you noticed this, setting the soup on his bedside table as you brushed back the hairs from sticking to his skin. You got up once again, this time grabbing a clean washcloth and a bowl of cold water. It seemed his sickness was affecting the way in which his quirk worked as he wasn’t able to use his ice powers to cool his body down.

You crouched down beside his bed once again, dipping the washcloth in the bowl of water before wringing it out, folding it promptly, and placing it on his forehead. “Let’s just let this sit here for a minute and then you can eat, okay?” You gestured to the washcloth.

Todoroki hummed in response. “Thank you… and I’m sorry for making you do all this.”

You smiled, caressing his cheeks with your fingertips. “You don’t have to thank me for anything, Shouto. You’ve always saved and protected people, taking care of them in the process. Now it’s your turn to be taken care of so there’s no need to apologize.” 

“What’d I do to deserve an angel like you,” Todoroki murmured, instantly making you heat up from his sweet talk. 

“I think the fever’s getting to you,” you teased, removing the washcloth from his forehead. “Can you sit up for me?”

Todoroki obliged to your request as he sat up and you propped his pillow up to support his back. You handed him the bowl as the heat from the dish warmed his hands almost immediately. He took one spoonful into his mouth, the broth from the soup covering his tongue as the flavor was absolutely delectable, just like every other dish you’ve ever made. As per usual, your cooking always made him feel better. “It’s delicious, Y/N.”

“I’m glad. I hope that makes you feel a bit better,” you said, standing up and sitting on the chair by his desk.

“It does. Thank you.” The soup warmed his insides in a way that would’ve been fine if his quirk were working properly at the moment. 

You pushed back the curtains by his window, taking a peek outside as the weather was still relentlessly pouring down rain harder and harder by the minute. The sun had finally set, making it even harder to be driving in such dark and hazardous conditions. At least on the way to Todoroki’s house it was still light outside, letting you see where you were going. “I guess I can’t go back home tonight.”

Todoroki adamantly shook his head, coughing in between his words. “No, it’s too dangerous. I don’t want you to drive right now.”

“You’re right. The last thing I need is to get into a car accident in the middle of the night of a hurricane.” You stood up once more. “You finish that. I’m going to borrow some of your clothes to sleep in.”

Todoroki nodded as you briefly looked through his closet, grabbing one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts. You swiftly changed into your clothes and neatly folded your own clothes to the side. “Do you want to go to bed now?”

“Yes.” He set his now empty bowl onto his desk as he was about to get out of bed. “I’ll go sleep on the couch.”

“What? Why? It’s not like we’ve never slept in the same bed before,” you asked perplexingly.

“But I don’t want you to get sick because of me,” Todoroki said, coughing and then sneezing right afterwards.

You approached his bedside, pushing him gently back into bed as you crawled right beside him, pulling the covers over your bodies. “I don’t care about getting sick. I just wanna be with you, Shou.”

Todoroki let out a sigh, smiling in the midst of it. “Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You laid back into bed as he began to close his eyes, already feeling groggy from the soup and his fever. “Um, Shouto, is it alright if I put the TV on? I’m not that sleepy right now.”

“Sure, do whatever you want. I don’t mind,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll put the sound down,” you said as you grabbed the TV remote and played your favorite show. 

For the next few moments the room was relatively silent as you turned the sound off the TV, relying on the captions to pay attention to what was going on as well as the roaring rain pouring and slamming against the window. You glanced over to your boyfriend who’s back was facing you as he had turned on his side. You assumed he had fallen asleep and you were relieved that he had gotten the well deserved rest he needed. After about two episodes of your favorite show, you ended up dozing off yourself.

What you hadn’t realized was Todoroki was having a little difficulty falling asleep as his congestion made it hard to breathe peacefully into slumber. Just as he was about to close his eyes again and force himself to fall asleep, he felt your arms wrap around his torso from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and turned around so that he was facing you.

You groaned in your sleep as he moved, immediately latching onto his torso from the front this time as you nuzzled your head against his chest. Your actions brought a small smile to his face as he rested his cheek on your head, wrapping an arm around your body.

The moonlight spilled over through the cracks of the curtains and shined onto your face, lighting your skin up luminously. You were beautiful, absolutely breathtaking even while you were sleeping. 

Todoroki couldn’t thank you enough for all that you did for him, loving him wholeheartedly in a way he never expected. Through nights like this, with you in his arms after a long and dreary day did he feel like he had fallen in love with you all over again.

If you’d like to be added to my taglist, please join here!

Taglist: @pinkcowgirleggpanda @xtsundere-princess @wesparklebitch @hot-pocket01 @iamthe-leaf @ahrininetales @kirisclementine @happygalaxymilkshake @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @entraptas-kid-sister @mirakeul @thatpeachybandgirl @icy-hot @lmaobroccoli @anastar-legion @lowermoons @mykuronekome @susu-chan @selfship-mishaps @shycoffeeparadise @iambashfulperson @ilovepizzaandimhot @sugacookiies @softiehawks​ @yoongiiyooo​

[phasmwrites]

the way u write bakugou just melts my heart every single time 😔🥰 i was thinking of a scenario where him and his s/o are driving home after a pretty disastrous hero event and they’re arguing so there’s a lot of yelling and harsh words being thrown around. and katsuki says some shit like “get out of my car then” and his s/o just unbuckles and gets out at the nearest stop light and walks home herself in the pouring rain bcuz she’s stubborn as hell and ends up getting sick? fluffy ending?

thank you so so much!! 💖 i hope you like what i wrote up!! 

Warning: Slight Angst

Word Count: 1.2K

The night had been a complete and utter disaster, to put things lightly. So much so, the silence between you and your boyfriend of three years, Bakugou Katsuki, was so thick one would need a steak knife to slice through it. Both of you were seated in your car, his knuckles turning white from the pressure he placed on the steering wheel. 

It had been the annual Heroes Banquet, an evening where pro-heroes and sidekicks alike come together under one roof to celebrate one another’s achievements. Bakugou was more than looking forward to this event, specifically because he was nominated for Best New Hero. Of course, he was running against a few of his old classmates such as Deku and Shouto, but he was confident that the strides he made in the past 365 days was enough to earn him the title and trophy.

When the time came for the winner to be announced, your hand was contently curled around Bakugou’s underneath the table as a sign of support. That’s when they finally shouted the name of the recipient and it wasn’t Bakugou. Not only that, but Deku had won the prestigious award.

“What bullshit.” Bakugou yanked his hand out of your grasp, shoving his chair back and storming out of the hall to more than likely find the restrooms. You decided to trail after him, finding him just about to reach the restroom while he mumbled curse words under his breath.

“Katsuki!” You shouted, the click of your heels echoing through the entrance of the grand hall as you caught up to your boyfriend, “Hey, it’s okay-”

He swatted your hand that had reached out to him, a sign that he didn’t want your comfort, “Leave me alone.”

You had watched him disappear as he stepped into the men’s room, leaving you staring at the wooden door that held him inside. Bakugou was never good with handling rejection, even after so many years of growing into himself he still had his moments of weakness.

“You don’t need some stupid award to prove that you’re the best, Katsuki.” You finally broke the silence in the car, allowing your voice to chime over the heavy rain that ….

The scoff that he produced in response was full of rage, “Oh yeah? Try to tell me that again after you had your fucking hands all over Deku after he fucking won!”

“Are you kidding me?” You rolled your eyes, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth, “I hugged him as a congratulations!”

Bakugou laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humor laced within it, “I saw the way that green-haired bastard looked at you, Y/N! Don’t even get me started on how many times his eyes glanced over your tits in that dress.”

“It’s not my fault that he was ‘looking at my tits’.” You fought back, your fingers curling down to signal quotations. 

Another silence befell the two of you but it was short lived, “You just love the fucking attention from other men…”

“Excuse me?” You spat, beginning to feel your own rage bubbling within you, “Care to repeat that?”

Bakugou sneered, “Gladly. I see the way you get excited when other men give you the time of fucking day and then you come home to me like I’m just your second choice!” 

“You’re actually delusional.” The words that were spilling past your boyfriend’s lips, despite the insecurity seeping through, were beginning to ignite a rage inside of you to match his. 

“If I’m so delusional then get out of my damn car, woman!” It wasn’t the worst argument the two of you have had, but for some reason it had made you irate beyond words. 

The way the car slowed to a stop at the red light was gentle, but the way you abruptly flung open the passenger door and hopped out of the vehicle was anything but that. You slammed the door shut, allowing the large drops of rain to soak and destroy your expensive dress as it dragged through muddy puddles.

“Come on, get back in the car!” Bakugou rolled down the window, his voice holding much less bark than it had only minutes prior. He followed your slow pace, other cars whipping around him impatiently as he begged you to get back in. 

You sucked in a deep breath after slipping your heels off of your blistered feet, gripping them between your fingers as you used your quirk to get away from Bakugou. You were born with the ability to phase yourself up to fifty feet ahead of you, making you a great hero for stealth missions. 

By the time you made it home, you could barely keep yourself awake to step through the front door. The overexertion of your quirk had you collapsing onto the hardwood floor the moment you turned the door knob, your heels clattering who knows where.

“Oh, fuck…” Bakugou had sped home in a feeble attempt to beat you to your shared home, the guilt beginning to extinguish the inferno that had caused his abrasive behavior. He had barely parked the car before he rushed inside the house, gathering your unconscious body into his arms bridal style. 

When you came to in the early morning, your head was throbbing with a dull ache and your throat was practically on fire. You were no longer attired in your now-ruined gala dress, the material tattered and coated with speckles of mud as it was slung over a chair. Instead, you were wrapped in one of Bakugou’s over-sized t-shirts. 

“Hey.” Bakugou stepped into the bedroom, holding a tray with water, pain medicine, and a plate with your favorite breakfast. He hesitantly placed the tray down on the nightstand on your side, his head turning so he could meet your gaze. 

You remembered the events of the evening prior, a slight frown developing on your lips, “Bakugou…”

“Shit, I’m sorry baby.” He apologized, which was a rarity for him to actually admit to his wrongdoings, “I was...way out of fucking line last night…”

Your bottom lip puckered out and began to tremble, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, “I don’t feel good…can- can you hold me, Katsuki?” Without a moment of hesitation, he crawled into bed at your side and slipped himself underneath the heavy covers, throwing an arm over your middle and tucking his head between your chin and shoulder.

“Stubborn woman, you probably got sick from using your quirk too much...and walking half a mile in the pouring rain…” He mumbled, his spiky ash blonde hair tickling your nose and causing you to sneeze. 

You maneuvered one of your hands so that his larger one overlapped it, his fingers immediately lacing through yours, “Do you really think I want other men?” Your voice was small, but his heart ached at the realization that he had been the one to let the negative thoughts run rampant through your head.

“No, fuck no!” Bakugou leaned up, using one arm to prop himself up and the other to gently tuck away stray hairs from your complexion, “I love you, you’re nothing but good to me and I was talking out of my ass last night.”

With a gentle hum you let your eyes flutter shut, “You can make it up to me by nursing me back to health…”

“Gladly, anything for you.”

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 43: The Boggart in the Wardrobe

This room should have looked quite nice. Between the handsome furniture all built sturdy to last, the maroon quilt draped carefully over the bed, the three separate bookshelves all packed full, and the lovely sky-roof centered above their heads that was just now trickling in a purple light, promising a beautiful sunrise. It was the other details.

There were no other windows. The furniture was welded into the floor. Dust coated the air, causing several people to sneeze simultaneously, but didn't quite mask the noise of the howling wind outside that made Potter feel as if he were shouting to be heard.

"Come on Moony, let's see if your mum left any food in the fridge." With a calmness that astounded Alice, he walked over to the door and threw it open with his usual exuberance, trying to usher everyone outside, but his thin frame did not cover the fact that there was a padlock on the door. It may not have had bars, but if felt just as much as a prison as the room they'd left at the Dursley's.

Lupin nearly sprinted from the room, red-faced and nearly crying with shame. The Marauders followed after him with completely straight faces as if this were a normal day at their friends house, the other four didn't know what to make of it.

Frank waited until their voices and footsteps receded, quite hard to do in the still tumultuous wind, and spoke quietly. "Well, this could explain his odd fits of claustrophobia. Wonder how often his parents lock him up in here?"

"And for what?" Lily agreed quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. The place felt freezing, for no good reason.

Regulus was sucking on the inside of cheek with just as many questions. He'd never really bothered wondering much about Lupin before, had never paid much attention at all to the teenager considering he had no knowledge of his last name.

Alice had to clear her throat a few times before she finally said, "well, it's really none of our business." She could already here Pettigrew's voice reading the book from the open door. "Why don't we just join them."

She missed the part where she had to convince Frank of this fact, he clearly still didn't want to be in their vicinity willingly,  but the fact that Sirius had not yet made any attempt to murder them seemed to win the argument in Alice's favor.

Lily wasn't in much of a mood, listening to Malfoy be a prick and Severus being civil about it in trying to keep the classes focus. She couldn't hear them, but was sure the Marauder's were bad mouthing him anyways, automatically on Harry's side saying this wasn't fair treatment. She was ignoring the small part of her that honestly thought they were right and he probably wouldn't have done the same for Harry, but there was no proof!

Instead she walked slowly out into the hall and took her time investigating the rest of the place. She felt like a snoop, but well, this was a man who would apparently be a teacher at her school one day, around kids of hers if she ever did have them. He was an odd one, there was no harm in perusing family photos.

To her surprise, there weren't many. A few scattered baby pictures that seemed only to age through about four years, the young Lupin in the photo holding an ice cream and being held lovingly by two folks who greatly resembled him, obviously his parents. The pictures just stopped abruptly though, with plenty of wall space left, so she Alice and Frank continued on into the living room. It had a great front window that saw right into open woods beyond, the wind tore through even louder out here.

The cushions looked well worn, there were even more book cases about and even a desk in the corner as if this were also used as a study. She couldn't help but notice the front door also had a heavy lock. It looked homey enough, but still there was something missing Lily couldn't put her finger on.

She couldn't help but compare it all to the Dursley's place again, how unlived in the place felt despite the clear signs of this being a home. Except now there was no mock child to pose in front of anyone, it was as if Lupin's presence didn't even exist here.

She finally entered the kitchen to hear of Malfoy continuing to make a prat of himself, having Harry cut up his potion ingredients for him and still mostly ignoring this. The boys had pulled out heaps of food from surrounding cupboards, the place had enough to feed an army and they were steadily making their way through it now. Lupin looked over, watched their hesitation for a moment with a tentative smile, and offered them a bag of crisps and gestured to the oblong table.

"My Da' used to work for the Ministry, and me Mum was a nurse. They both still pull in a nice pension, you're not putting us out," he assured especially to her, recalling her previous aversion to eating out the Weasley's.

Frank just kept looking on curiously as he accepted the food, noting the past tense of both his parents jobs, and the way it had been said several times in the future how not particularly well off Lupin seemed. He honestly thought Lupin might be playing up his situation a little, but felt it rude to call him out otherwise.

Lily seemed to decide the same and began tasting a few things, before nearly choking on one when attention turned to Neville. The six around her began not so quiet streams of conversation at how cruel this had just become for a simple class, Alice and Frank clearly all on the Marauders side now. Lily felt near tears all of a sudden. She got up and stormed out of the kitchen without looking back, unable to be around anyone lest she curse the lot.

There just had to be an explanation she was missing, some clue being left out because of Harry just hating for no reason as his father once had. The Severus she knew would never do such a cruel thing, not after having lived through being bullied for so long by another. It seemed impossible he'd transfer this to a random student!

She'd been trying to make her way to the bathroom, unable to block out the grating sounds of Pettigrew reading farther about all this horrible nightmare of a future. Tears were blurring her vision and she was trying too hard not to let them escape when she ran smack into someone still lingering in the hallway.

"Oh, sorry," she blurted.

"S'alright," Regulus just shrugged and moved out of her way. She gazed at him for a moment, on tenterhooks to ask what he thought of this. She'd seen him hanging around Sev lately at school. Could he possibly have an explanation for this? Did she want to hear it from him? He offered nothing of his own, so she swiped her hand under her nose and kept going, slamming the door to the loo.

Regulus turned his eyes back to the last family photo up. There were no names for him to put together, but suddenly he wasn't so sure he should pass off Lupin as another of no status. There was something about his father's face, something he vaguely recognized...being in the papers once? He'd suddenly swear his parents, or maybe even Kreacher had mentioned the last name Lupin once...

Lily sat on the bathroom sink, toying with her hair and contemplating leaning over the toilet bowl instead, she really did feel sick. Malfoy's little comments were only making things worse, even more confusing, though she wouldn't have thought that possible before. What was that little toe rag on about? Why would Harry do anything against Black, he hadn't really done anything to him personally?

It made her stomach twist into even more painful knots as her mind offered its own conclusion. That Black and Lupin were in on something together. The two seemed aghast at the idea their friendship wouldn't last, well what if Black had an accomplice to that horrible attack? Malfoy's dad very well may know something about all this and had unwittingly passed it on to his own son.

'Or you're just looking for someone else to blame,' her mind nastily pointed out as the cruelty of that Potion teacher was put into practice, this twisted version of her best friend was actually described as disappointed his vile attempt at murdering a child's pet hadn't worked. This was wrong, every bit of this was absolutely not as it should be! Surely this was just Harry's skewed point of view, she would never believe it of her best friend!

Hermione's oddness was not enough to deter anyone from their thoughts on Snape, but the start of Moony's class finally stopped the Marauders from all too familiar conversations of what they were going to do to that slime-ball when they got a hold of him again. The fact that Longbottom and Smith had stayed present in the room when their suggestions got increasingly darker really spoke volumes, their grim faces were not at all pleased to Lily's reaction to this. Whatever blossoming friendship was going on there might have a permanent taint if she didn't pick her loyalties soon.

Peter cleared his throat of a custard cream he'd just swallowed hole and instead turned to Moony. "Tisk, tisk mate, being late on your first day! Can't hardly tell your students off for that now!"

"Hmm, I'm liking the idea of this more and more," Sirius was still half savoring a biscuit in his mouth, spraying them all with food. "Professor Moony, here to teach us all how to properly do our homework."

"Yeah, make it all up," Prongs finished with a snort, spraying them with chocolate milk he'd just tried to guzzle.

"I've done no such thing," Remus insisted with an unrepentant smile. "It's not my fault Binns doesn't know how the Giant Wars began."

"Or you drooled so much over that page in your sleep you couldn't read it yourself," Peter concluded, reading on loudly now around his friends spluttering.

His voice still caught uncomfortably at the idea of his friends state of dress, but already too much attention was being put on him in his place of residence, so he hurried past that.

After being kicked in the shins by both Prongs and Wormtail, telling him to knock it off loudly for good measure, Sirius had finally found Moony's leg and was now fondly keeping him distracted by pressing their legs together as much as he could under the table. He was even fixing to risk letting his hand fall down to his side, Moony's lap, if his color didn't come back soon. He knew it was a strain on Remus to be back in this house.

They'd only been over a handful of times, Lyall and Hope seemed very weary of letting visitors stay longer than a few minutes lest anyone start asking personal questions about Remus' life. Of course the Marauders knew why, now, but their friend had grown accustomed to a very quiet life. Never before having so many people in his house at one time. He was just grateful none of them could see outback of the house.

It helped that at least this Professor version of him was keeping things lively, that interaction with Peeves had been brilliant! They were still chuckling about it when they finally arrived to the destination, the bloody teachers lounge of all places, to find the worst bloody teacher inside.

"Rip him to shreds Moony!" Sirius said at once.

"Blow up a potion in his face, see where he lands up," James scowled.

"Or just poison him," Peter agreed.

"These are all quite tempting offers in front of a class of thirteen year old's," Remus responded with a very amused expression.

"Oh, we have absolute faith you will give him the retaliation he deserves," Sirius quickly pacified. "We're just letting our imagination run wild."

"Yes, we're aware of your limitations, but that usually just makes you even better," James agreed.

Alice and Frank exchanged a look and didn't bother to defend this one bit. If they were hoping something would be done to Snape in retaliation for what he'd just tried to do to their son, well, it's not as if they were going to pretend they could stop it. Snape's position was made only worse by his parting line being yet more cruelty to Neville, and Alice couldn't help her outburst, "if you don't kick his arse I will!"

The boys at the table all turned to size her up, before each smiled and assured her justice would be swift.

Admittedly the start of it didn't make any sense to Frank, a boggart was hardly the most formidable creature one could face. His had turned into a snarling griffin, with a sleek golden lion body but eagle wings and talons instead of front legs pulled from his youth.* Quiet a fearsome beast but one he'd easily swept aside with magic nearly ten years later. He didn't understand the delighted looks on the troublemakers or how this could do anything to Snape sense he'd left the room. His doubts only furthered when the Professor prompted Neville to explain what his mother wore, Black now had his fist stuffed in his mouth to control himself and Potter was about to slip out of his chair from shaking with so much laughter.

They were all horsing around, teasing each other with increasing loudness of each others boggarts and what they all seemed aware was coming. It made Frank just a tad jealous, seeing them all so close, one conversation being shared by four so easily. He had quite a few friends around school, but none who would finish each other's sentences like this.

Finally, in between stuttering breaths of laughter, Pettigrew regaled them all with the retribution Neville deserved, and it was beautiful.

Snape, in a dress. Severus Snape, in his mother's green dress and favorite hate. Snivellus being humiliated like he'd just tried to do to Neville. No matter how you put it, all six of them were now on the floor, tears streaming down their own faces with mirthless laughter enough to banish any boggart for a year.

Regulus had snorted softly from his place just beyond the kitchen, but really didn't find the image as hilarious as all those others seemed to. Perhaps because he had no personal grudge against Severus for any particular reason. He was in fact quite confused by the man's actions though, wishing he did know the reasons for his actions against the pureblood child of Longbottom. Was it pure vindictiveness? Some other motive he was missing?

Lily was all the more glad she'd isolated herself from this now, as she'd caught the traitorous flash of a smile in her mirrors reflection before she'd quickly brushed her hair and hid it away. It wasn't right to laugh, she'd quickly scolded herself, Lupin was just as bad as his mate always had been and apparently always would be, and retaliating with a childish way to put her friend down. Her scolding was weak, at best. What Sev had done was far more hurtful, nearly killing that poor kids pet.

The rest of the class seemed to be going without incident until Harry's. A dementor, she shivered at the very name being mentioned again. Yes, that was quite the thing to fear, much worse than hers had been, her sister appearing and yelling every vile thing she could. In the middle of her class. Lily had nearly burst into tears, then Severus had stepped forward, taking the boggarts form of his own father Tobias. Sev had barely blinked as he made his father's pants fall to the floor, laughing at him before turning to comfort Lily. She'd received no marks for that day, but the teacher had kindly offered her a redo, with her best friend encouraging words promising she would get past this. She'd turned Petunia's dress into the awful green color she hated so much and laughed herself silly that day, all thanks to Sev.

Now, twelve years later, and Snape was falling victim to the same trick he'd once given Lily to get through another day; and she'd laughed at him this time. Because this time, he'd been the one to nearly reduce a kid to tears.

She leaned back against the wall, letting the light switch dig uncomfortably into her back as her feet sat in the sink for the rest of the chapter, more frustrated at herself than anything for her lack of answers to her best friend.

* I know griffins in mythology are actually depicted as having eagle front halves and lions just as the back-half, but a flying lion sounds a bit more horrifying, no? Or just call it creative liberty with an established myth, like JK did with the mermaids. Whichever you prefer.

[palettes-and-prompts]

40 Prompts!

Prompts for the Sunshiney Character/Storm Cloud Relationship

1) A and B go to a theme park and B notices how much A keeps staring at the games where you can win stuffed animals and while A's back is turned B wins them a huge stuffed animal. 2) A realizes they've never heard B laugh before and so they spend the whole day telling them lame jokes to get them to laugh but they never do. It isn't until something bad happens to C in front of them that B lets out the hardest laugh A's ever heard. And while they're terrified of B's humor they're in love with their laugh. 3) A tries to find out more about B's interests but since B is very secretive it's hard for them to find anything out about them. But when A hears B watching wrestling they get B tickets to a match and suddenly B's out of their seat cheering for a wrestler to hit the other with a chair. A's never seen B happier. 4) While grocery shopping A is putting junk food into the basket and B is taking it out and putting in healthier options until they get to the dairy section and B puts four gallons of chocolate milk in the cart, absolutely shocking A. When B tries to explain themselves A tells them they're going back and getting the junk food they want. B lets them and doesn't take out a thing they put in after that. 5) A wears shorts and one of B's t-shirts and A keeps thinking B's sick because their face is flushed all day when they look at A. 6) A gets B some flowers because they're trying to show more affection but it backfires when B begins sneezing and getting watery eyes. (Bonus if A goes back to the store and gets fake flowers and allergy relief medication.) 7) A and B go into a haunted house and A doesn't have time to be scared because B's lightning fast reflexes keep knocking the scare actors flat on their ass and A keeps apologizing while B's trying hard not to keep doing it every time someone pops out. 8) A and B get their face painted and while A who is sunshiney gets something scary B, the storm cloud, gets a cute animal and then they go out for food. 9) A and B go to the zoo and while in the part where you're allowed to pet the animals A is trying hard to get animals to like them B is the one all the animals keep swarming and rubbing against. 10) A and B go to the beach and even though B doesn't like the beach. While A has fun in the water B has fun when the seagulls begin attacking people who brought food. (Bonus if it ends with B saying they now love the beach.)

Fluffy Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) Everyone warns A about B being a vampire and one day when they're out with friends B casually mentions that they smell good and everyone is wide eyed until B's like "I was talking about their perfume/cologne." Which makes them all give a sigh of relief and the group spends the whole day trying to make it up to B because A really likes them.

2) It's hot outside and so A hugs B to stay cool. And for once in their life B's kind of glad they're a vampire. 3) A who is like ice feels bad they can't cuddle with B so they buy a ridiculously warm onesie and gloves to hold them. (Bonus if the onesie is extremely tacky because they got it last minute.) 4) A's jackets are in the wash so they wear one of B's without telling the. (Bonus if B spends all day looking for it since it's their favorite one.) 5) A feels bad B can't enjoy food so they spend hours researching until they find a few recipes B can eat since they're mixed with a lot of blood. (Bonus if they messed up the recipe but B thinks it's the most delicious thing ever.) 6) A can't see their reflection so B spends the whole day figuring out if there's a way for a vampire to see their own reflection. 7) In a world where humans can become blood donors as a job and pick the vampire they work for A gets lucky enough to meet a wealthy B. B is excited because A's cute and has a rare blood type. 8) A celebrates a birthday or holiday where gifts are involved and everyone thinks B's favorite color is red because they're a vampire. But they tell everyone they actually hate red and so everyone tries to figure out what their favorite color is. 9) A reads trashy vampire novels to B, a vampire, who does nothing but lay their head on A's lap and go  "Oh my god, we don't even do that! That's such bullshit, that's not even what happened during the signing of the Treaty of Versailles. I should know, I was there!" 10) A hasn't been around humans in a long time and is very confused when looking at certain technology or clothing B wears.

Hurt/Comfort Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) A has always hated vampires and when they become one B shows them how to survive in their world. 2) A gets injured and B can't help them because of their blood lust. B is incredibly jealous of C for being able to take care of them when they can't 3) A almost drinks B's blood when A accidentally cuts themself. Later A buys some rosary beads for someone at work to ward off a vampire they work with who's getting handsy or whatever. But when B finds them they're worried A doesn't trust them anymore. 4) A gets injured running away from vampires and B is a vampire who finds them and patches them up. 5) A can tell what turns B on because they're constantly listening to their heart rate. Imagine A being incredibly jealous when B sees C because their heart rate spikes. (Bonus if B just really hates C so it's nothing more than them preparing themselves to be annoyed for the day.) 6) A rescues vampire B from a mad scientist who was conducting experiments on B to see if vampires could be changed back and how much pain they can endure. 7) A is a human who's lost everything and B is a vampire who grants them eternal life and revenge against those who wronged them. 8) A hates vampires and works for a group of vampire hunters but when they stumble upon B and see how scared they are it reminds them of their past and they help them escape, this leads B to become attached to A and curious about them. A hates it until they think it's actually kind of cute. 9) In a world where humans are kidnapped and kept alive for their blood A is leading a rebellion until they're captured. B, a vampire in the cell next to them, befriends them and tells them the guard schedules and personalities and tells them they'll help them escape if they get them out too. (Bonus if A is going to betray B until their time together makes A feel things.) 10) A is the most heartless human and B is the most compassionate/alive vampire. The two meet and change each others lives, but is that for the better or worse?

Crack Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) A makes garlic bread and B spends hours trying to figure out what they did wrong. Turns out A forgot that B couldn't have garlic bread and didn't remember when they bought, they just thought "Wow, haven't had garlic bread in a while." 2) A cuts their finger and before B can react A sucks the blood from their finger. And it wouldn't be a big deal except for the fact that B moaned when A did that so now things are weird. 3) A and B go grocery shopping and afterwards they check the police records for any criminals in the area for B to drink from. 4) A is a nurse who works at a hospital in charge of blood and B is a blood thief A is constantly spraying with holy water to keep out of the room where they store all the blood. When new nurse C arrives they panic until A comes and spritzes them. When C is like "???" A is like "They do that all the time. They don't bite humans, they drink animal blood. But sometimes they're tempted to drink human blood so you gotta spritz them when you see them." 5) A wonders why B never feeds in front of them and B just tells them they wouldn't want to watch anything like that. But when A finally convinces B to actually have dinner with them they feed in front of A. (Bonus if A is horrified and lowkey loses their appetite but tries to play it off) 6) A can't see their reflection so B is constantly drawing dicks on their face when they're asleep. 7) A thinks it's hot when B speaks a different language, but when B catches on and uses it during an argument A is constantly telling them to stop flexing their knowledge. B thinks it's hilarious though but stops for a while so when A's in the mood B can talk dirty in another language. (Bonus if by the time B does that A can speak the language too.) 8) A has been staring at someone B hates all day and when B thinks A might have a crush they get sad until A admits they just have a gross blood type and can't stand the smell. 9) "You look really peaceful when you sleep, very beautiful." "Please don't watch me sleep, it's so weird, dude." "We have sex all the time, do not call me dude." 10) A getting mad at vampire B before they go out and saying some shit like, "You have something on your face by the way." And not telling B where it is because they know B can't see their own reflection to wipe whatever it is off. (Bonus if A is smug the whole time and B is like "Come on, lets not fight tonight and just...just tell me where it is! Is it my nose? My teeth? What is it?!?")

Sorry this took so long, @zoliis I wanted to give you at least 10 prompts for each one, hope these are kind of what you’re looking for maybe? If not just let me know and I’ll do some more! :)

[bendywackyadventures]

Warm and Cozy Chap. 6

So usually, short stories like these usually take me a few days to work on, but this story was not one of those short stories. I had a bad weak last week, which prevented me from writing. 

For starters, my great-aunt passed away at 99 years old and my aunt and uncle who took such good care of her came by the house twice in a row for dinner and planing how the funeral will be held due to Covid-19.

2nd, originally I planned on writing a story where Charlie celebrated his father’s birthday, but it left me with writers block as I did write a Sammy birthday story (I think) in the past and I just didn’t like the outcome. When that happens I have to erase the story and move on to something else.

And finally, which is something positive I’ve been focusing on a lot of ACNH and got into Nookazon, a Animal Crossing Amazon site that I’ve been using. 

So yeah busy week. Hopefully things calm down this week and next week. I hope you like the story.

@queenofcats17 

Today was supposed to be a good day, but the radio brought up a major emergency. A major storm was coming that was cause flooding and some damage. To make sure his workers were safe, and alive Joey didn’t allow no one to go home till the storm lights up. No one didn’t like it, but once they heard the last clap of thunder and the power went out it was best if everyone stayed at the studio for the night.

Joey and Henry grabbed sleeping bags, as some of the workers called their families of what’s going on and they’ll be home in the morning. While, everyone was comfortable the only one who looked nervous was Charlie.

Dot turned to Charlie and walked over to the child. “Hey Charlie, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“I’m scared.” Charlie whispered.

“Don’t worry Charlie. Its just a storm it will pass.” Dot reassured.

“That’s not it.” Charlie said a bit louder. Dot almost took a step back. “Its my cat, Shadow and her kittens. Their all alone at the house without me!” They cried. “I-I’m scared something will happen to them. I need them here so their safe!”

Dot shushed the child and hugged Charlie tight. “Its alright. Charlie. I’ll help you get home and bring your cats here.” She reassured. Charlie smiled and hugged Dot tight back. Charlie quickly went to grab their frog rain coat as Dot went over to Wally and Buddy. “I need your guy’s help.” Wally and Buddy looked at each other and back at Dot. She went close to them and whispered about Charlie’s problem.

Once she told the boys about the plan they quickly got their coats ready to help their little friend. Dot smiled and went to get her coat as well. Once the four were ready they sneaked out of the studio and ran out the door.

Outside the sky was dark with clouds and thunder and lightning were lighting up the sky. They didn’t have much time the four had to hurry to the Lawrence’s find Shadow and her kittens before it started raining.

It was already 5 minutes and Susie and Sammy realized Charlie was missing. They looked around the studio for their child, but saw no signs of them anywhere. Susie was ready to cry wondering where Charlie had gone.

“Relax Susie. They’ll be fine. Charlie should be around here somewhere.” Sammy reassured. Susie sniffled and hugged Sammy tight hoping he was right. “Come on let’s keep looking.” Susie nodded and looked around the studio once more.

As they searched two of the band members walked on over to Sammy. “Did you two find Charlie yet?” Sammy asked.

“Well yes, but no.” One band member revealed.

Sammy raised an eyebrow wondering what they mean. “What do you mean, yes but no?” He asked.

The other band member chuckled nervously knowing Sammy wasn’t going to like what he was going to hear about Charlie. “Well they were here, but they left the studio with Wally, Buddy and Dot.” He revealed.

Sammy’s eyes widen as he felt his blood boil. His child was out there in the storm with the three workers he despised, not in a fiery passion, but despised. “They what!” Sammy yelled. Sammy’s yell was heard far away Susie ran by to ask why Sammy was yelling.

Sammy told Susie everything, and while she was concerned about Charlie being out there in the storm, she was glad they were not alone. “At least their okay.” Susie sighed.

“What?” Sammy asked surprised over Susie’s answer. Susie turned to face her husband. “Its better their with a group then alone out there in the storm. I know they’ll be fine.” Sammy sighed seeing there was no reason to argue with his wife. Susie was right Charlie was safe being in a group rather going out in the rain by themselves, it was just the people they were with concerned him.

Though if Sammy was here, he would be glad to see Charlie made it home safely as they grabbed the cats and scooped them into their arms. “Okay let’s go!” Charlie shouted. The group left the house and locked the door back up again and were dashing back to the studio. It just started to rain buckets and the wind blew the hoods off making them wet from the rain.

Shadow and her kittens cried, but Charlie held them closer to make sure they didn’t get wet. The four stopped when they saw the road they just took turned into one giant puddle. “Don’t worry I know a shortcut from here. It will take longer, but we’ll make it back.” Buddy revealed. Buddy took the lead and the group followed him to get back to the studio.

Just as they made it halfway, Charlie stopped and held on to the wall to catch their breath. Their legs were shaking and was ready to pass out. Dot forgot that Charlie’s legs weren’t the best and all this running made Charlie reach their limit. The three knew they couldn’t just stop here they needed to hurry, but thankfully Wally had an idea.

“Dot, Buddy you hold Shadow and her kits. I’ll give Charlie a piggyback ride back.” Wally announced.

“What! Wally you know I’m allergic to cats!” Buddy yelled.

“Buddy listen Charlie and their cats are at stake, including us we need all the strength and help we could get.” Wally said putting his hands on Buddy’s shoulders. Dot looked at Buddy and nodded, they had no other options.

Dot and Buddy took hold of the cats, even though the later started to sniffle. Wally let Charlie grab hold of his back and gave him a piggy back ride back to the studio. As they ran Buddy started sneezing due to him holding Shadow, but kept his focus on bringing Charlie back to the studio.

The shortcut brought them back and they quickly dashed inside. The workers turned to see Dot, Buddy, Wally and Charlie wet, tired, and for Buddy sick. Sammy and Susie ran up in front and Wally handed the tired child back to Susie.

“Are they alright?” Susie asked as she carried her child in her arms.

Wally sighed. “Their legs started to go out, so I had to carry them the rest of the way here.” He explained.

Charlie looked up at their parents. “Please don’t be mad, I was trying to rescue Shadow and her babies.” They explained. “I didn’t want to leave them behind until morning. I had to rescue them.” They explained.

Sammy and Susie’s eyes widen as they looked at each other. During all this preparation to settle down at the studio they forgot about Charlie’s cats. “Oh sweetie. Were so sorry we forgot.” Susie apologized.

Charlie gave a small smile. “Its alright mom. I should be sorry that I left in such a hurry.”

Sammy gave a smile and ruffled Charlie’s hair. “Its alright at least you were safe and didn’t go alone.” He mentioned. Charlie smiled and rested in their mother’s arms. Sammy walked over to the three workers who kept Charlie safe and gave them a smile. “Thank you for keeping Charlie safe.”

Wally smiled. “Anytime Sammy!” He beamed.

[sunmisgirl]

NCT 127 Confessing to Their Crush

Requested by @czakuranevan-blog:

Hello, could you do a NCT 127 reaction about how they would confess their feelings to their crush? Thank you in advance :)

Nina’s Note: I had so much fun writing this and kept it gender neutral. I went overboard with the reactions so some are slightly longer than usual asdfghjkl. What can I say? NCT owns my heart.

Taeil:

*I LOVE Taeil’s look in Limitless

Taeil and you take a spontaneous trip to a local karaoke bar to relieve some stress and sing your hearts out. Usually you two keep the karaoke sessions within the confines of your home but he insists to go out for a change. Still a bit bashful about your singing, you encourage Taeil to sign up for a performance. 

After writing his name on the sheet, he sits with you at a nearby table and enjoys the other performers. Soon enough, it’s his turn and you applaud happily while he walks up to the mic stand and waits for the song to start. The intro to “Thinking Out Loud” plays, immediately making you smile.

You’ve heard him sing it to himself a dozen times but never grow tired of his voice. However, something feels different about this performance as you watch him closely. Throughout the song, Taeil sings with such passion and you swear he’s only looking in your direction the entire time. It almost feels like he’s confessing something. Applause fills the air once he finishes and you’re left stunned with the next few words that fall from his mouth, “Thank you. I dedicate that song to someone very special that came with me tonight.”

Johnny:

Johnny and you have known each other since childhood which provides perks such as a strong friendship and tons of embarrassing moments that can be used for blackmail whenever necessary. You’ve seen his passion for photography grow over the years and always praise his work. He decides to test out his skills with a beach landscape and invites you to join him.

After persuading you to be his subject, he instructs you to hold a certain pose, tilting your chin up and fixing your hair. “Wow, I’d put a ring on that!” he exclaims and walks backwards pondering on the angles to capture for the mini shoot. “Johnny, are you hitting on me?” you shout from a distance but only see him playfully roll his eyes in return.

His smile subsides as he concentrates on the camera settings and adjusts his stance before snapping a few shots. He quickly reviews them and lifts his gaze ready to direct you into a different pose when his thoughts go blank. The sun setting in the distance creates the perfect atmosphere and he sneakily takes a few candids of you looking out across the water.

“Why are you looking at me like I’m the eighth wonder of the world?” you tease while laughing. “Because you are,” Johnny replies, walking over and showing the shots he took moments ago. You gawk at the results as he clicks through each shot, leaning in closer to study every detail. He notices your proximity and compliments, “You make a wonderful model.” Now it’s your turn to playfully roll your eyes at his statement. “And to answer your question from earlier, yes, I was hitting on you.”

Taeyong:

Taeyong is your new handsome neighbor that graciously saved you one night with his impeccable cooking skills. You bluffed to your mother about your improved cooking skills in hopes she would stop worrying about you living on your own. (You can’t exactly reveal you live off of takeout, right?) 

One night she texts you that she’s in the neighborhood and wants to stop by later to catch up and taste your amazing cooking. This sends you into a frenzy, your feet taking you to Taeyong’s front door at the precise moment he was about to head outside. You briefly explain the dilemma and ask for some tips but he offers to assist you with the dish instead. 

After that day, your friendship grew stronger and the two of you made it a habit to cook together a few times a week. You’re halfway through devouring your pasta when Taeyong utters, “I like you.” Your fork clanks against the plate as you stare at him with astonishment. 

He nervously laughs and gestures to the glass on the table, “Looks like the wine is talking tonight.” You take a sip from your own drink before replying, “I like you too. We make a great team and I really enjoy our dinners together.” He grins from across the table and suggests, “Maybe we should go out to dinner for a change.” 

Yuta:

Yuta calls one day asking if you’re free to hang out but instantly hears the sickness in your voice. You constantly reassure him it’s nothing serious, but your body betrays you, a series of sneezes and coughs directed into the transmitter on the phone. In record time, he appears at the front door with a care kit full of your favorite snacks and movies. 

He orders you to rest on the sofa and heads to a nearby closet for spare blankets. Upon returning, Yuta finds you scarfing down mouthfuls of candy that were meant to be eaten during the movie. Raising an eyebrow, he locks eyes with you and plucks the box of M&Ms from your hand. 

After feeding you soup and tea, he wraps the blankets snugly around your body and starts the movie of choice. Ignoring your pleas about getting him sick, he pulls you closer and rests your head on his chest. The cold medicine eventually takes effect and you begin dozing off before the movie finishes. 

Yuta observes your sleepy state and smiles warmly before leaning down and kissing the top of your head. “You’re lucky I like you,” he whispers and trails his hand over your hair. Feeling far too sleepy to question him further, you mumble back, “I like you too” and allow sleep to consume you.

Doyoung:

Doyoung has been your rock through the hard times and you definitely need him now. You faced a nasty breakup a few days ago but still can’t get past the heartbreak. As soon as he sees your incoming text, he grabs his car keys and travels to your place. 

You haven’t looked in the mirror for days and hope your appearance isn’t too terrible. Throwing on a hoodie and your favorite pants, you enter his car with a glum expression and he counters with a small smile before pulling off for a drive.

Doyoung drives around aimlessly for a while until he figures out how to improve your mood. He scrolls through his playlist and selects his favorite song, singing along to the track. Unbuckling your seat belt, you shift your body facing him and rest your back on the passenger door, leaning your head against the seat and closing your eyes to focus on his soothing voice. 

When the song ends, Doyoung takes a deep breath before saying, “I know it’s too soon to say this, but I really do care about you.” “More than a friend,” he admits while staring at the road ahead, his heart beating way faster than he’d like it to. “You don’t have to give me an answer right now. You deserve time to heal.” Opening your eyes and smiling to yourself, you shift in the seat and hold onto his right hand laying freely on the center console.

Jaehyun:

You met Jaehyun one day when he walked into class late and sat in the only seat available beside you. He lightly taps you and leans in whispering, "Did I miss anything?" “Just another rant about how millennials are ruining the dating scene. Professor had another bad Tinder date,” you chime with a smile. Sharing a quiet laugh, you exchange names before proposing to grab coffee after class and get to know each other better. 

It's become a tradition for you two to meet at a cafe and chat for hours. You've had a crush on Jaehyun for a while now and finally gain the courage to make the first move. After finishing classes for the day, you race over to the cafe and wait for him to arrive. Hours pass with no sign of Jaehyun and an employee notifies you the shop is closing soon. 

Dejected, you gather your things and exit the shop listening to a playlist, eventually spotting him a few stores down talking to someone and looking all cozy. He doesn't notice you storming up to him until you pass by bumping shoulders. You ignore his shouts in your direction and turn the volume up. Later that night, a notification pings on your phone. Jae: Night drive. Meet me in ten.

Curious about his explanation for bailing, you meet him outside and enter the car wordlessly. He starts driving and immediately apologizes for forgetting to meet up. “I ran into a childhood friend visiting for a work conference. You know I wouldn’t skip on our plans...I like you too much.” Your eyes shift to observe his expression and see if he’s lying. He actually seems a bit nervous after confessing and waits for a reply, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. 

Now you feel like a complete fool for being jealous and giving Jaehyun the cold shoulder. "Stop the car," you request, closing your eyes and contemplating what you're about to do. He scrunches his face with confusion but obeys and parks down the street. Jaehyun turns to face you wondering why you're so quiet before you grab his collar and reel him in for a kiss. You both pull away after a few seconds and stare at each other until you break the silence. "See you in chemistry!" you throw open the passenger door and shut it behind you before racing back home.

Winwin:

Sicheng loves stopping by your place for movie night, but you’re calling him over for a different reason this time. You’re struggling with a project for work and need his input. After successfully coaxing him with the promise of pizza, he listens to your short presentation and offers tips to improve the flow. 

Sicheng finds your resolve admirable, smiling to himself as you bend down and scribble little pointers on cue cards. The other guys always ruin his opportunities to confess his crush on you so he decides to do it now that you’re both alone. He clears his throat and calls out your name instantly grabbing your attention. “I just wanted to say…” 

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and you excitedly shout, “Pizza's here!” He sulks in defeat on the couch and lightly stomps his foot on the floor while you pay for the food. “What were you going to say?” you ask while walking over with the pizza box in hand. He sighs and mutters, “It can wait for next time.”

Jungwoo:

Your roommate Jungwoo wakes you up with a pleasant breakfast to start off your birthday. He cleans up the dishes after the meal and glances over at the clock counting down the minutes until you leave for work. Once you leave, he hurries off to grab decorations and calls over a few friends to help set up the place for the surprise party. 

Jungwoo assigns everyone a task, confident they will not disappoint him, and runs out to buy your gift. After a long hectic day, you yearn to settle down with Jungwoo on the couch and watch your favorite movie. A big celebration can wait for the weekend. Your tiredness instantly evaporates the second you open the door and are met by a loud cheer in unison. 

Family and close friends embrace you and wish you happy birthday before allowing you to settle into the party. You meet eyes with Jungwoo across the room and he tilts his head towards the balcony. Following him outside, he presents you with a small box and you happily open it to reveal a bracelet with his initial and a heart on each end. “This is really thoughtful; thank you!” you beam while he helps clasp it around your wrist. 

“I have a matching one too,” he lifts his wrist to show you his bracelet decorated in a similar style but with your initial. “Just a way to show how much you mean to me.” Jungwoo looks like he wants to say more, but can’t gain the confidence to say the exact words. Catching his hint, you look at him amusedly before pecking him on the cheek. “We’ll finish this conversation after the party,” you wink and return inside to converse with guests.

Mark:

Mark is one of your closest friends at work and drives you home sometimes. However, you’re completely oblivious about his crush on you and tonight he hopes to change that. He takes one final breath before exiting his car with a bouquet and walking up to your front door. 

You have a bad habit of leaving your curtains drawn back in the living room, allowing the outside world to peer in every once in a while. While approaching, his eyes flicker to your window and witness you hugging an unknown man. Upset with his discovery, Mark turns away and starts walking back to his car before hearing your voice call out his name.

He turns to see the unknown man walk down the pathway with a suitcase and nod politely before entering an awaiting cab. You stand by the doorway looking at Mark curiously and ask, "What brings you here?" He avoids the question, hiding the bouquet behind his back and replying, "No reason. It looked like I was going to interrupt something."

"That was my cousin! He lives across the country and visited me for the week," you utter with a slight shrug. "Y-your cousin?" Mark fumbles out as his eyes widen with shock. You nod with a light laugh taking in his flustered appearance and spot a few flowers sticking out behind him. "Are those for me?" 

He retrieves the bouquet from behind and sheepishly presents it to you. “I was wondering if you had plans this weekend,” he says while walking closer, nervously waiting for your response. You accept the flowers and reply, “Nope, I’m free but I have a better idea. Food delivery is on the way and I ordered way too much for one person. Care to join me?”

Haechan:

Haechan is your favorite person in the whole wide world. You always go to him for a laugh and make sure to sit next to each other during every lecture. After he drops you off at the dorm, he lingers in the hallway until the coast is clear and slips a note under your door. 

You don’t notice the green folded paper on the floor until hours pass and you take a break from studying. Wondering if something slipped out of your bag, you lean down and unfold the note with surprise etched on your face. It displays a ton of scribbled compliments before signing off with a single heart drawn on the bottom.

The next day, you show Haechan the note wondering if he recognizes the handwriting. He simply shrugs and answers, “Looks like you have a secret admirer.” These mysterious love notes continue appearing under your door for a solid week. You appreciate the notes but the anonymity is slowly driving you crazy. 

When you settle in class the next day, Haechan offers you his notes to study before leaving to use the restroom. You suddenly notice green sheets of paper sticking out the back of his notebook and the similar writing style on the pages. When he returns, he finds you scattering his secret admirer notes onto the desk with a small smile adorning your lips, relieved you finally solved the mystery. Sitting down, he playfully pushes your shoulder and says, “Took you long enough!”

[sansy-fresh]

Cherries in Snow chap 3

im still trying lol

Tags: Sickness, Unexpected Dads in Unexpected Places, Red being a hurt little bean

ao3 link

Sans glanced over at the couch, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him as he nodded to Paps’ statement, which had been something like “I made it extra special this time!” It was his brother, everything he made was special.

“And you’re sure you can talk him out?” Papyrus asked one more time, Sans grinning up at his brother.

“Just gimmie the plate, and let me work some magic.” He winked as Paps groaned, though he did finally hand him the plate that was swimming with an orange tinted sauce, the chicken breast in the middle reeking of mustard and surrounded by two pieces of thick, white bread and a healthy dosage of greens. Mustard braised chicken was definitely the way to go, after Paps had left their little guest a hot dog with the stuff on it a few nights ago, and the thing had been woofed down in seconds.

Part of Sans wondered if that was because he liked mustard, or because he was still working on getting past some serious malnutrition, but either way, he always seemed to like the chicken Paps made so it was a win win.

Leaving Paps in the kitchen, Sans padded almost carelessly over to the couch, trying not to flinch as the sound of movement came from behind it. They’d been trying for a full week to get him out, and if Sans knew anything about himself, it was that the fastest way to his soul was through a good meal. Red didn’t have to fully trust them, he just had to come out. He surely needed a bath, or medical attention for his still working socket, which had become inflamed in the past few days.

And the only reason he knew that was from his nightly spying sessions, when Red finally came out to eat his supper, assured in the belief that he was alone. It made Sans feel almost dirty, watching him when he thought he was safe, but knowing that he could lose sight in his one good eye made the guilt dissipate.

Finally standing just by the edge of the couch, Sans cleared his throat and scuffed his foot, letting Red know he was there, though by the labored breaths, Red already knew.

“Alright buddy, I know it’s gotta be cramped as all hell back there, and I know you’re sick.” He let his words settle in, grin pulling taunt in concern as Red still didn’t speak. “I’ve got you a damn good meal that Paps made for you, right here. All smothered in mustard, stinks it’s so yellow.”

There still wasn’t an answer, so Sans stepped a little closer, placing the plate of food down beside the edge of the couch, where Red could see it but wouldn’t be able to just reach out and take it. He’d have to come out to get it. Backing up a couple steps, he spoke again, “I’m not gonna crowd you buddy, but you gotta come out.”

No answer. Not shifting clothes, no timid skull peeking out from behind the couch, no pulse of fearful magic that was nearly always felt. Now worried, Sans slowly moved forward, hands held up in a peaceful gesture. “I’m coming over, no worries I won’t do… anything… Paps!”

The sound of thundering steps came up behind him from the kitchen as he shot forward, pulling an unconscious Red out from behind the couch, hissing at the heat coming off his bones. His eyes were closed, but both sockets were crusted shut and inflamed a sickly looking crimson. He was having trouble breathing, each breath a slow hitch in his chest and a wheeze of air as it released.

Sans held him up and Papyrus scooped him into his arms, allowing Sans to wrap their charge in a blanket before Sans took a gentle hold of his arm and shortcutted them both to the one person that knew how to deal with a sick skeleton.

The smell of smoke and grease soon surrounded them, Papyrus laying Red on the couch in the back room and Sans rushing to the front to find the monster they needed. It wasn’t difficult to follow the sound of crackling flames, Sans grinning tiredly as Grillby glanced up as he popped through the fire exit, surprise showing in his eyes.

“Sorry to just pop in like this, Pops, but we kinda need your help.”

Grillby nodded, signing something to Red Bird who nodded and hopped behind the bar as Grillby walked quickly to join Sans. The two of them headed for the back room, Sans attempting to explain along the way.

“We found him in a snow poff, and one of his eyes don’t work, and he’s been real scared and he’s not from around here so when and if he wakes up, don’t be surprised if he tries to get away and he’s real sick-” Sans was brought up short as they came into the back room, Papyrus pumping healing magic into little Red, who was trembling up a storm on Grillby’s couch. Papyrus looked up, a somewhat strained smile popping on his face.

“Hello, Dad! We might need a little assistance?”

Grillby wasted no time seeing to the little skeleton, the warmth in the room elevating as he broke his fever and told Sans and Papyrus wear to find the medicine and extra blankets, as well as a bowl of lukewarm water and some rags. They each did as they were told, and soon Red was bundled up, breathing a little easier, the gunk around his eyes gone and his temperature a little lowered.

“Thanks Pops, we were a bit boned there for a minute.” Sans winked tiredly, even as Grillby shook his head and Papyrus gave him a glare. For a brief moment, it was like nothing had changed. And then Red sneezed and the three of them went back to making sure he was comfortable, and safe.

Later, they took him home and laid him up in Sans’ bed, still covered in the blankets they borrowed from their pops. He slept, they worried. But nothing really changed until he woke up.

[my-darkstrangeson]

Idk if this has been asked already but I’d love to see the exact moment one of them realized he was gay for everyone else. -vaugelysassygrunt

word count 1436

TW a lil bit of violence, skip the second but if that squiks ya

a/n I hope you like this @vauglysassygrunt

It starts out slowly. One day, Logan is doing the usual desk work needed, filling out papers, signing this and stamping that, when a hand placed itself over the form he was in the middle of filling out, stopping his pen from it’s path. Startled, logan looks up to meet the deep brown eyes of his coworker and, he admits, his close friend.

“Still filling out that paperwork?” Roman asks, and there’s a glint of trouble in his chocolate eyes. “I don’t know how you survive like this, trapped at a desk, taping away at your computer,” lazily, he drags a finger along the ceramic cup Logan uses to hold his pens and pencils, before quirking his eye back to Logan and lifting an eyebrow. “Wanna go have some fun? Y’know, while we have the chance?”

For a second, Logan considers the paperwork still left to do. He has no complaints about sitting her the rest of the night, accompanied by the scratch of his pencil and a cup of coffee, but… but something in romans mischievous glance, the way his tanned skin seems to glow in the yellow-gold light filtering in through the window, highlighting the gold dusting around his eyes, something tugs at his chest, soft but insistent. It’s pushing him, whispering go, and Logan can’t help himself, and he sets down his pens and follows Roman out the door.

___

The scene is chaos; bullets fly through the air, hitting concrete and shattering the glass that edges around the window he and Virgil have huddled under. With every shot Logan winces, watching as bullet holes pepper the office great just a moment ago held smiling faces and busy interns. Now the desk chairs are empty, the computers shattered. There are no bodies slumped over chairs or littering the ground, and that Logan can be thankful for.

“There’s at least three shooters,” Virgil whispers, gritting his teeth as he brushes shards of glass from his cheek. “I think I can get them.”

“What?” Logan exclaims. “Virgil, they’re actively firing at us. You wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger before they- they shot you!”

Despite the grim situation, Virgil smirks, and makes eye contact with Logan. Virgil’s eyes are ghostly grey, contrasting against the dark shadows under his eyes, and Logan is caught like a deer in headlights.

“Don’t you worry about me, specs.” He says, and than he springs up and into view of the open window. Logan wants to scream, to lunge at Virgil and pull him back down, but he knows the look in Virgil’s eyes. He knows the risks, he’s weighed them in his mind; he knows he’ll come out on top.

Virgil’s guns are in his hands before Logan can blink, and he shoots once, twice, in rapid succession. A bullet whizzes past his head, and Logan can see him wince as a line of red appears on his cheek. Another shot from the gun in Virgil’s outstretched hand, and the world falls quiet.

“Virgil, you’re hurt!” Logan says, standing up as soon as he knows the assault has ended. Virgil lifts a hand to his cheek, feeling where the bullet has only just missed him. Another inch, and he would have been dead.

The thought makes Logan sick, his stomach writhing just at the notion or Virgil being hurt. But Virgil is still smirking, his eyes still have that fire, and Logan is thankful that notion wasn’t reality.

“I told you not to worry.” Virgil says, placing a hand on logans shoulder, and Logan feels something in him melt.

___

“Patton, I told you, I’m fine,” Logan objects, before letting out a gigantic sneeze.

“You are most definitely not fine, Lo.” Patton says, as he bustles around the kitchen. “Now, go lay back down, I’m making you soup!”

Logan wants to grumble his objections, because his is fine, and he definitely is not lying about how fine he feels. Yes, his throat burns with every swallow, and he feels hot and cold and achey, and his brain feels like it’s staging a mutiny from his skull, but he has a job to do. But Patton shoots him a look that says you’d better lay down before I make you, abd even with the puppy dog eyes and baby blue apron tied around his waist he manages to look intimidating. So Logan settles for plopping down on his worn leather couch. Soon, (or maybe not that soon, his thoughts are so unfocused he can hardly tell) Patton sets a large bowl on the coffee table in front of him, accompanied by two cups.

“What’s this?” Logan asks, pulling the bowl towards him.

“”That,” Patton begins, taking a seat on the couch next to Logan, “is my mom’s famous chicken garlic soup, and these-“ he motions to the two cups- “are regular water and jello water.”

“Jello water?” Logan asks, a look of gestation on his face.

“It helps with the throat!” Patton smiles, and pushes the cup towards Logan. “It’s like drinking a cough drop. Try it!”

Logan takes a cautious sip, and finds that while he drink is incredible sweet, it does make his raw throat stop aching. The soup is much less saccharine, with large chunks of chicken and garlic floating around in a broth that smells like rosemary.

“Thank you, patton,” Logan says, after a few more bites of soup. “It was quite thoughtful of you to check up on me, and provide me with a meal.”

“Anything for my favorite hacker!” Patton exclaims cheerfully. “Now, what do want to watch? Pick something good, because I’m only letting you off this couch to go to bed.”

“There’s no need for you to stay longer, patton, you’ve done me enough kindness already.” Logan says. “And don’t you have a snake to feed?”

Patton lets out a giggle. “She’s a lizard Logan, and I got Ana to stop by and check on her.”

“Ana?”

“My sister,” Patton explains. “Well, one of them, at least.”

Logan is thoughtful for a moment. “You’ve never told me about your family.” He says after a second. He soup is nearly gone, and the warmth of it has soaked into his bones, soothing the ache that had settled there.

“You haven’t told me much about yours either,” patton says thoughtfully. “What if we swap facts? I’ll tell you something, you tell me something.”

They spend the next hour or so trading stories, recalling memories, some Logan hadn’t thought of in years. He tells Patton about his mother and her patched overalls, his father and the lab they would visit together, about the posters of stars he had memorized, about the sweet mint tea his mother always had a cup of and the smell of warm earth that radiated from the greenhouse in their backyard. Patton tells him about his four sisters and three brothers, the big, messy, warm house they all shared, about the summers spent swimming to the bottoms of lakes for salamanders and hunting for ripe pink huckleberries, about his moms short silver hair and his dads warm brown eyes.

Logan falls asleep on Patton’s shoulder, feeling content, and something else, something that made his chest swell with emotions, something makes him feel warm and safe.

___

The four of them are all piled into the large couch of romans living room, Star Wars: Episode IV playing in the wide tv screen. After both Roman and Virgil admitted they’ve never seen any of the Star Wars movies, and being a “nerd” (as Roman called him) Logan insisted they all get together and watch it. Now they sit, legs overlapping and bowls of popcorn and m&ms balancing on their laps, eyes wide and focused on the screen. Even Patton, who’s already seen the movie, is leaning forwards, following the action carefully.

Logan is sandwiched between Roman and Virgil, giving him a front row seat to their entertaining reactions. Seeing their faces change, smiling at the jokes, leaning forwards at the tense parts, it makes the movie a good thousand times more enjoyable.

On screen, Han Solo quips something sarcastic and Patton lets out a giggle, leaning closer into Virgil, pressing Virgil into Logan. At the same moment Roman rests his head against logan’s shoulder, and suddenly they’re all connected, nestled close together by choice and not lack of space.

And in that closeness, highlighted by the shine of the tv screen and underlined with the soft feeling that gathers inside of him, Logan has a realization.

@anxious-fangirl-121 @insultme-notmyfandoms @ryuity @romanasanders @spacevirgil @chaoticcharm-storm-posts @fluidityandgiggles @llamaavacado @somehowsnakesblog @thekeytohappiness-is-you @a-reference-of-sides @absentmindedproff @deathshadowrules @kaymischief25 @roxiusagi @myownhappilyeverafter @dragonheart905

[aalt-ctrl-del]

lemme explain something right quick about viruses and the immune system, because some maga shits are very fuking confused. And I need people to understand some things.

When Maga shits scream with frothing saliva at their jowls - “I have an immune system, and it works!”

What they are trying to convey is that they have been sick at least 10 or 20 times the past year, and they believe that indicates they have an immune system of iron.

HOWEVER, what it indicates is that they have the immune system of wet toilet paper, and them getting sick indicates they are very not having of an immune system.

When your immune system is in functioning order, you don’t get sick. What I am telling you, when you immune system is in functioning order, you will not present symptoms.

When doctors say “Presenting Symptoms”, this is an indication the immune system has failed its functions to defend the body, so now the entire body has to go into lockdown to kill off the abundance of viral cells so you don’t crash and die. And usually, such as in the case of the cold or flu, this isn’t a big deal. A fever, sniffling, sneezing, drainage from the eyes or nose, sometimes vomiting, congestion, etc, etc, etc. The infection is usually isolated to the upper respiratory tract, and mitigation is standard. It’s not too traumatic or harmful to the body.

If the immune system performs its functions well, meaning it works and knows how to do its job - yes, sometimes the immune system reflects the person who utilizes it and an be utter shit (MAGA) - if a viral load of a certain pathogen is collected, and the immune system does its job right, symptoms cannot present. Because the viral cells die before the body has to go into lockdown.

Maybe you will feel a little ‘bad’ or ‘off’ for a day. A little congestion, maybe throat thrash (nothing drastic), or a fever. For a few hours, no more. But overall, symptoms to kill a viral load will not manifest. This may be because you have already had this particular strain of the cold, or you’ve been vaccinated and your immune system is having a response to acquiring the virus. Otherwise, you can function without impeding your day or needing medication to ‘alleviate’ symptoms.

The covid is very cryptic in its methods for mass destruction. Maga saying “I had covid and my immune system worked” - while this person nearly died, is equivocal to admitting somebody shut the barn door after the horse wandered into the neighbors field and was shot dead. All a little too late to learn from the mistake and fix it.

We have the individuals who with covid-original, were asymptomatic. Again, I have said the Asymptomatic carrier is a myth, because covid is not a respiratory disease, it is viremia. A vascular disorder which can and will affect the entire body because it’s food source is the red blood cell. Rhinovirus and other common colds are primarily isolated to the upper-respiratory tract, and usually infect the alveoli, but do not get too far due to biological barriers, immune response, and limitations in the viruses biology. But viruses don’t really need to do that much, because their intent isn’t to kill a host carrier, it is only to infect, breed, eat, and spread. 

Much like the maga crowd.

Asymptomatic carriers of the covid-original were very useful to the covid virus, because they have an ‘immune response’ which might keep the host carrier ‘safe’. We use the term safe gently, because eventually the immune system wears itself out and the carrier inevitably dies. But asymptomatic carriers to covid original could carry the viral cells and spread them to other recipients. However, asymps (simp for the virus) are not protected from the viral affects - such as major organ failure due to covid infection in the capillary cells of such organs, liver failure, gastral destruction, etc. And my favorite, the silent hypoxia - a state in which the asymp eventually dies from the disease, before they realize they were infected, because they never developed the respiratory symptoms ‘’’’’associated’’’’’ with covid-original.

I have had several theories about the asymp carriers (not to be confused with long-haulers who have endured covid distress and are still struggling with symptoms associated with vascular destruction). As I have put it, asymps may have an immune response to the virus, but do not produce competent antibodies to combat the infection. Because novel covid is so new to our species, the immunity cells may not recognize it as the threat it is, because it is not malicious in its methods. I have called covid “a gentle killer” Much like carbon monoxide poisoning, the one subjected to a low enough yield of carbon monoxide gas may not suffer side-effects altogether or die, but they will begin to die. Gently. Slowly. A silent killer.

But one attribute of covid-original is that it has to be purged from the body before recovery can commence to insure fresh undamaged red blood cells regenerate. Asymps who falsely believe the virus isn’t a hazard, continue to collect viral cells - thus progenerating a disease that has not been managed in the body, forcing white cells and the immune response to work much-much harder. Eventually leading to death, or covid crash (cytokine storm). Overall, asymps ARE IN FACT people who have a working immune system, but they do not understand that there are biological limitations to what that immune system can do, and thus destroy themselves.

That given, the immune system is only proven to work when the person has not been sick to the point of distress or presenting symptoms. Presenting symptoms in response to an infection is due to that infection replicating beyond the bodies compacity to manage the infection, thus the body mitigates viral presence through fever and gut-purging. Much like modern doctors supply anti-viral treatment to those suffering covid distress.

A last and most vital note to add, the vaccine is the last-line of defense to the infection. Much like rabies, covid is best combated by preemptive measures. Rabies is 100% fatal to the individual once they present symptoms - recall, that is the sign that the immune system has failed.  You do not want to present symptoms with covid, because the body and immune response has failed, and must work to a rampaging infection that is destroying the vascular system. The severity of the damage depends wholly on how long the virus was present, and where the red blood cells have been compromised.

The vaccine makes the immune system aware of the potential for this new, never before encountered threat. Thus, the viral cells are dealt with before they can begin replicating. Before red blood cells and tissue in the major organs or lungs are jeopardized. However, everyone’s immune system reacts differently to a potential threat, thus some people have a difficult time, even with vaccination status.

The vaccine is basically an exercise for the immune system. Teaching it a new trick. But this is why those who go into covid shock cannot receive the vaccine, much as those who present symptoms for rabies are too late to receive vaccination. The body has already failed to mount a response, it is dying, but still struggling to maintain control and recover. Some people do recover from covid despite coming so near the brink of death. But again, the way covid infects tissue and the vascular system, depends on what it gets into.

Even those who are not horrendously hauled so near death, must treat their body very gently, as if they have endured a trauma. Like your skin or mind, or bones, the blood can endure a traumatic experience. And only time and good therapy will enable a recovery. People do not understand these things, because they do not study. 

American kind of built itself up to crumble in the wake of such a sinister and gentle infection. We invalidate people when they need recovery time, we do not have schools which instruct on science or biology, many schools will shy away from such topics. And we celebrate immaturity and ignorance as if it is a badge of honor. Not all, but the vast numbers who are not looking into the patterns this virus manifests nor how viruses and our relationship with them have endured for the centuries.

This is a lot to take in, it’s a lot to browse through. But the only way to survive this is to delve into the science and build the grasp for the information.

[seadeepywrites]

leave behind your heart and cast away

Character: Basil Noctis Words: 3132 tw: blood/violence, Chath’s fucked-up headspace

There’s a place Basil goes, sometimes. I can see him retreating there now, as my voice gets louder. If I weren’t so blindingly angry, I might know the right words to bring him back. 

Instead, I spit, “You backstabbing piece of shit,” fists clenched so tightly I can hear my knuckles creak. 

Basil looks up at me, tension draining out of him, and somewhere underneath my fury, I am frightened. I barely recognize him. 

“One could argue I am the one demonstrating appropriate loyalty, actually,” he says, voice as cool and polished as marble — and just as emotionless. There is no reciprocal anger in his face as we face off. There is nothing at all. He’s barely a person, just a handful of crisp polysyllabic words and a blank expression. 

That’s how I know how bad this is. 

“I thought we were friends,” I say, as harshly as I can. Wanting to see some kind of flinch, even a flicker. I want to know that I hurt him.

But Basil stays infuriatingly, disturbingly calm. “I’m not sure that’s relevant,” he says. “We both report to Hieram, when we are outside the monastery.”

“It’s not about Hieram!” I stomp across the tent, needing to vent some of my rage in movement before I say or do something I’ll regret.

My path takes me closer to Basil, and he steps smoothly out of my way in that uncanny way he has. Like he knew where I was going before I got there. There’s nothing subservient in his posture, and I should be grateful for that, at least. I know how he can bow and scrape when his superiors yell at him, and it would definitely only piss me off further.

He just stands there, hands folded together behind his back, shoulders squared. Symmetrical, balanced, and perfectly, shockingly empty. Like a vacant room. Like a barren field.

I stalk closer to him, towering over him by a foot and a half. His head tilts back to look at me, and I’m reminded of those automatons they make in Ailion.

“I knew you would be angry,” he says.

I snort. “Oh, you did? Great job figuring that one out. You’re a bright one, Sylvaranth.”

For the first time since I started yelling, an expression flickers across Basil’s face, but it’s gone before I can read it. 

“I told you what I was planning because I trusted you.” I jab a finger at him. There’s depressingly little resistance as I stab into his shoulder, nothing but bone and sinew. “I trusted you.”

“I don’t really know why,” Basil says tonelessly. “My first loyalty has always been to the monastery. I’m surprised you thought I’d behave any other way.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I guess that was my mistake, huh? That I thought for one fucking second,” I growl, low in my throat, struggling for words, “that you cared more about me than this whole charade.” I wave my hands at the tent around me, at the countryside beyond.

Basil cocks his head. “Charade? Do you not agree with Hieram?”

And fuck, there I go running my mouth again. “Please. Like you couldn’t tell I thought this was a stupid idea. Because unlike you, I actually speak up when something’s wrong. I stand up to him.” I give him my best scathing look. “Not roll over like a dog.”

I didn’t think it was possible for more of the life to leave Basil’s gold-green eyes, but it does. He inclines his head a few inches, and says nothing.

“Holy shit.” I scoff, loudly, the sound just an ugly gurgle as it scrapes past the scar tissue. “Look at you.” Then I lapse into silence, because he won’t yell back at me and he won’t even give me one of his snippy, sarcastic replies, so what’s the fucking point, even?

I fume for a little bit, and Basil continues to stand statue-still. Abruptly, I recognize the position: parade rest. It’s a strange habit for him to have, given everything I know about him. Over the years, I’ve collected a million tiny pieces of his past. I know he came to the monastery from the Spire. I know that while he was there, he was part of the Order Arcanum’s shadowy twin, some illegal organization I’m pretty sure is like, the mafia. And I know before that he did a lot of criminal shit, some of it with a guy called Dorian, whom Basil clearly never means to mention, considering the way he swallows the ends of his sentences when the name comes up.

Earlier than that — Basil’s childhood — things get a little foggy. His accent is clipped and proper and perfectly ordinary for a high elf, but there are times when it lengthens out, vowels stretching into a drawl I don’t recognize and can’t place for the life of me. He never talks about his family. He never explains how he became so prissy and yet so bloodthirsty.

My point is that this little blue bastard has no reason to have military training that I’m aware of, and that means he picked up this behavior because somewhere along the way, his superiors expected it of him. And that means that even without words, even without outward signs of submission, everything about him right now is manufactured to appease me. It punctures my rage, leaving me off-balance, and I scowl at him.

“Look at you,” I say again, quieter this time. “Fuck, Basil.”

Basil says nothing.

I rub at my eyes, a syrupy darkness rising up to extinguish the bright heat inside me. It tastes bitter, and poisonous. I wonder for a second if it’s a bad thing that I’ve cooled to match Basil. 

“You think you’re better than me because you don’t have any feelings,” I say. Softer and calmer, but with a vicious edge to it. My hatred has grown spider legs and is scrabbling across the surface of my skin. “But that just makes you more of a freak. At least I care about things. At least I care about people.”

Basil says nothing.

I point at him. “I care about you, but you...” I shake my head. “I’m not sure you’re even capable of loving me back.”

Basil’s eyes widen a fraction, but the rest of his pale face has hardened like a porcelain mask. He says nothing, and continues to say nothing.

I say more. Of course I do. I’m hot-headed, passionate, spirited — all the words that mean fire, that mean chath, because that’s what I am and will always be. So my rage re-kindles, and I rant at him. Just once, I wish he’d lose his cool and raise his voice, but instead he takes it in eerie silence. I insult him until I run out of ways to try to hurt him, until my ragged voice is even more broken than normal. And then I slam my fist on the table, splintering the wood, and storm out.

It takes me less than a day to regret my actions, but the damage is already done.

***

It’s been two weeks. And it’s not that Basil isn’t speaking to me, exactly. There’s not enough of us in Hieram’s little group for him to get away with that and still obey dutifully — and as I’ve found out to my displeasure, that’s really important to him.

When Hieram summons us both to his tent, I can tell he knows something’s happened, but he doesn’t comment. He just raises an eyebrow, instructing us to find the village elder’s house and retrieve the tome inside.

“Feel free to use any strategy you see fit,” Hieram remarks, smirking.

I grunt, seeing that for what it is: permission to get violent. If it’s meant to cheer up Basil, it doesn’t seem to have any impact, as he simply inclines his head in acknowledgement. Then again, with the amount of emoting he’s been doing these days, maybe he’s fucking ecstatic. Who’d be able to tell?

After Hieram dismisses us, I race to catch up to Basil. My legs might be longer, but he’s ridiculously speedy, and he’s not trying to match my pace at all. Almost like he’s avoiding me.

I’m not even angry, anymore. Not after two weeks. My anger burns like my sorcery: hot and fast and bright. And then I’m left with only the cold ashes of regret. Fuck, it didn’t even take two days. Of course I didn’t mean those things I said to Basil, and I certainly didn’t expect them to hit him the way they did. I was just firing blind — I didn’t expect he had any weak spots for me to twist a knife in, in the first place. 

Maybe someone who didn’t know him like I do would still think that, but I can still see the blankness in his face, which persists as we pack our gear and head out.

“Ugh, I hate when it rains overnight,” I try saying, grimacing as my boots sink three inches deep in the mud. “It’s like all the bad parts of rain without even getting the storm, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” says Basil tonelessly. He continues to look straight ahead.

“You wake up all cold and damp, and then there’s all the shivering and sneezing...” I’m rambling at this point, barely aware of what I’m on about. I’m hoping for a sarcastic response, an eye roll. Anything. “But you never really get sick, do you? I don’t know how you manage it. It’s not like you’ve got a lot of body fat to keep you warm. You’re like a fuckin’ scarecrow. What’s your secret?”

Basil shrugs, not dignifying that with a response.

I growl, and give up for the time being. I’m gonna get this skinny bastard to crack, one way or the other. Because I fucking hate this.

The retrieval mission goes wrong — of course it does. Instead of a helpless old lady we can knock around, we find what must be half the men in the village, armed to the teeth, waiting for just this kind of theft. 

I don’t have time to wonder how they found out, as I stumble back into a corner flinging spells. From this angle, I could take a good chunk of them out with Burning Hands, but I’m worried for my friend — even if he’s still not really speaking to me.

Basil is getting the worst of it, honestly, which is pretty normal. He’s up against four heavyset villagers with various blunt weapons, ducking and weaving, braid flying. I wince as one of their maces collides with his torso and he gives a pained grunt, stumbling sideways. Another man takes advantage of the distraction to get him across the shoulder with a knife. Dark blood blooms, staining the edges of the long tear in his precious blue coat.

Now that ought to piss him off. Sure enough, Basil bares his teeth and homes in on the guy with the knife, a blur of staff and fists and feet and elbows. Takes him out in a few seconds, heedless of the other wounds he’s accumulating from the rest of the villagers. I grin at the sight of Basil in action — it’s really quite beautiful.

I help where I can with a few well-placed Firebolts, but my savage glee turns to alarm as one of the village men decides Basil’s got enough to worry about and turns his attention on me. I try to back further away, but bump up against the wall in the semi-darkness. I swear vehemently, crabbing sideways, but it’s not enough. I raise my arms, but even my Mage Armor isn’t enough to deflect the blow.

The man’s shortsword is pretty blunt, as far as these things go, but it hurts plenty as it bites into me. Again and again he strikes, as I cry out, reaching for him to try Inflicting Wounds. He dodges easily enough, though, and I can’t quite get a bead on him with my cantrip.

The pain blurs the room around me, and I stagger. Drop to one knee, clutching my side. Am I going to die to some pissed-off merchant with a pointy stick? Because that would really fucking suck.

I can feel my grip on my senses fading, the world turning white around the edges. There’s the distant sound of someone calling my name, and the threatening presence above me vanishes. More sounds of violence: gasps and yells and the crack of metal on wood. I can’t tell anymore what’s me and what isn’t. 

Then there’s a hand on my shoulder, green-gold eyes swimming in my vision. Basil’s thin lips shaping words that I can’t really hear, pale eyebrows drawn together. Huh. That’s more emotion than I’ve seen on him these past few weeks. Wish I knew what it was about.

I didn’t realize someone in the room has a sling, but I become aware of it at roughly the same time a fist-sized rock collides with my temple and I drop to the floor, losing my last vestiges of consciousness.

***

When I wake up, I am lying flat on my back amongst tall grass, staring at the glittering canopy of stars above me.

“Ouch,” I say, because everything fucking hurts. I try to sit up, and immediately regret it.

“I wouldn’t move too fast, if I were you.” Basil’s tone is dry and clinical, but that’s pretty typical. He sounds like he’s nearby, and I roll over to try to get a glimpse of him.

He is crouched by a campfire, poking at the embers with a stick, and he looks pretty banged-up. There is a bruise high on one cheekbone, and the slashing wound on his shoulder appears to have bled quite a lot, including through the white bandage he has wrapped around it. He isn’t wearing his coat, and his spindly arms are mottled with more cuts and bruises.

I sit up more carefully this time, ignoring the throbbing in my head. “Ow. How did I get here?”

“I dragged you.”

I laugh a little at that, because the mental image is hilarious. I expect Basil to come back with a pithy reply, but he says nothing. Doesn’t even look up. It reminds me that things are still bad between us, even if we.... even if he...

I put a hand to my head. “Uh, okay. What happened? Did we get the book?”

Basil points with his stick to our bags, where a thick leather-bound tome is balanced atop the pile.

“That’s awesome,” I say with genuine relief. “And are you... um, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Basil says, voice as colorless as the night air.

I do not believe him. I know his ki does some weird healing shit for him sometimes, and sure enough some of his cuts already appear half-healed, clotted and scabbed over. I know they won’t even scar — that his skin will remain disturbingly unblemished, and his recovery time will be half of a normal person’s. None of that makes me worry any less.

“I have some healing potions in my bag,” I say, wondering what the chance is I’ll pass out again if I try to get to my feet. “Or we can get back to the main camp, and we can find Auwenn to—”

“I’m fine,” Basil says again, a little sharper this time.

“You’re clearly not,” I snap, then regret the fraying of my temper as he goes still as stone. Not this shit again...

Basil says, “I’ll take watch,” and rises from his crouch, dropping the stick. He gestures. “You’re lying on your bedroll. Weather looks fine, so I didn’t put up the tent.”

“Oh.” I look down, confirming that I am indeed sitting in my blankets. “Uh. Thanks.”

Basil strides over to the nearby rise in the ground, settling himself so he has a good view over the crest of the hill without breaking the horizon with too obvious a silhouette.

“What are the chances we’re being followed?” I say, tentatively. He seems more likely to respond if I ask practical questions rather than personal ones, and I’ll resign myself to more strategy discussion if it means he’s answering me. I hate this frosty silence, this purely professional relationship. I want my bastard back.

For a moment, I think Basil won’t reply at all, but then he tilts his head to the side a tiny fraction. “I imagine the alarm will be raised in the morning,” he says without looking at me. “Everyone that was in the room is dead.”

I smile. “Great. And the old lady?”

“Searched the house. Couldn’t find her. She may be staying somewhere else.” Basil shrugs. “We likely have a few hours to get some sleep before they come after us. I’ll wake you, and we can move on to keep the head start.”

I notice one gaping hole in his brilliant plan. “And when are you going to rest?”

“I told you,” Basil says, “that I will be perfectly all right.”

“Basil,” I say, nearly hissing with frustration, “you’re bleeding like a stuck pig.”

Basil does turn to look at me now, twisting to gaze over his shoulder with an unreadable expression.

“I know I was mad at you,” I say, and fuck, my voice is close to breaking. I will not cry in front of him. Not now. “But I’m not anymore. And I never wanted you to die. I don’t want you to die.”

“I’ve had worse,” Basil says coolly.

“Fuck this,” I snap. “Is this what it’s going to be like now? You shutting me out? Pretending you’re not hurt until you pass out from exhaustion and blood loss?”

Basil makes a noncommittal noise. I have never wished more that I knew how to throw a punch, if only because he really needs a good smack upside the head. Maybe I’ll have him teach me, if he ever forgives me.

I don’t have the energy right now to argue the point. I lie back again and shut my eyes, fighting a wave of dizzying vertigo and noticing the way the ground spins beneath me even when I can’t see my surroundings. I’m no cleric, but that’s probably not a great sign.

I drift into a fitful sleep, and in the fragmented dreams that slip by, Basil decides to go back and slaughter the village. I dream that I wake up back at camp, not a scratch on me. I dream that Basil’s body is delivered back to us in pieces, wrapped in that stupid blue coat he loves so much.

When a firm hand on my shoulder drags me from the nightmares, I surface to find my face is wet with tears. Unsurprisingly, Basil doesn’t comment on it.

[toosicktoocare]

I love the idea of Coran finding him.

Coran swiftly walks down the hall, the click of his heels echoing softly against the walls. He’s got his hands locked together behind his back as he sharply turns corners, making his way to check on Lance.

The blue paladin had woken up a couple of days with what Shiro had said was merely a small cold. His nose had been tinged red, and he couldn’t go five seconds without sneezing, something Coran and Allura knew nothing about. The brunet had been ushered to bed, and the others had been taking turns checking on him.

Coran had volunteered to check on Lance a few moments ago at breakfast. He’s finding himself eager for the blue paladin’s recovery. Things have been far too quiet without Lance’s persistent chattering filling every crevice of the castle. Everything just seems so lonely, and while he knows Lance is doing his best to recover, Coran is practically on edge with anticipation for the moment when Lance is able to hop out of bed without expelling sharp air from his nose.

“Snozzing?” Coran mumbles as he approaches Lance’s door. “No, was it snuzzing?” He shakes his head and pushes open the door, muttering under his breath as he walks into the room. His gaze snaps to the lump hidden underneath blankets on the bed.

“Lance, my boy! How are we feeling today?” He’s met with silence, so he maneuvers around the used tissues littering the floor to get closer to the bed. He can just barely make out a tuft of damp, brown hair poking out from the multiple blankets piled over Lance’s trembling frame.

“You cannot possibly be chilly,” Coran mutters as he begins stripping blankets back. He’s pulling back his third one when Lance’s face comes into view, and he lets the thick fabric slip from his fingers as he takes in the blue paladin’s poorly features.

Lance is pale, frighteningly so. His normally tanned skin is washed out, giving an almost translucent appearance. If Coran didn’t know any better, he’d say Lance is sporting a case of the “Visies,” an Altean virus that causes a person to become see through.

But, the crimson patches coloring high on Lance’s cheeks negate that possibility. Coran tilts his head, forehead creased in concentration, and pats his hand lightly against Lance’s cheek, only to jerk his hand away moments later at the alarming heat.

“Humans cannot possibly run this hot,” Coran says to himself, but his tone is loud enough to pull Lance from his fitful slumber, and the brunet blinks tired, bloodshot eyes at Coran.

“Ah, Lance,” Coran starts, voice chipper. “How are you feeling? Your skin is quite hot; it feels as if you pressed your cheek to a stove burner.”

He watches Lance’s teeth clack loudly together as strong shivers course across his frame, and he narrows his eyes in question.

“Yet you shiver as if you are chilled through. Should I go get someone? Shiro perhaps?”

Before Lance has a chance to answer, his entire body stiffens just as his eyes roll back into his head.

Coran goes tense as he takes in the white backsides of Lance’s eyes that are laced with red. “Lance?” He asks, voice surprisingly soft and holding a low vibrato, a clear sign of fear.

He goes to shake the brunet, placing one hand atop Lance’s shoulder, but Lance begins convulsing violently under his palm, and he pulls his hand back with a sharp gasp.

It’s been a long time since Coran truly felt the long fingers of panic squeezing at his lungs, causing his heart to thump rapidly against his chest as if trying to shoot out of his throat. He has no idea what’s happening, nor does he have a single clue how to help.

Lance is shuddering helplessly, muscles contracting violently as if some invisible force has hold of him, and Coran can only think of one thing to do.

“Echo” is a difficult, rather tasking ability that Alteans can learn after years upon years of practice, but it comes in handy. Coran cannot physically move his feet from their planted position to get help, so he closes his eyes, clears his racing mind, sucks in a sharp breath and whispers “paladins!”

A moment later, he can hear the shrieking shout of his voice bouncing up and down the hallways, and he stumbles, panting from exertion just as Allura comes racing into the room with the other paladins hot on her heels.

“Coran! It’s been so long since you’ve used Echo! What ever is the matter?” Allura questions, placing steady hands to Coran’s back. Her brows furrow when she takes sight of Lance. “What’s he doing? Why is his body seizing like that?”

It’s Hunk who pushes past the two to get to Lance first. His wide eyes study Lance’s shaking form, and he breathes out a very measured, very quiet “fuck.”

The others gather behind Hunk, peeking around the yellow paladin from all sides.

“Seizure,” Pidge mutters, voice trembling. “But he was fine…”

Hunk leans forward and ever-so gently brushes his knuckles against Lance’s cheek. He becomes physically nauseated at the heat, and he sharply pulls his hand back. “He’s on fire.”

“What the fuck?” Keith steps forward and places a rough palm to Lance’s forehead, angered face pinching up into concern. “Guys, this is bad.”

“We’ve got to cool him down,” Shiro announces, too afraid to feel the fever heat radiating from the seizing brunet. “Now,” he adds, and the paladins fall into a flurry of activity while Allura and Coran watch with bated breath.

Within minutes, the paladins have placed cool, damp cloths across Lance’s forehead and neck, and they positioned ice packs against his arms and legs after yanking all of the blankets off the brunet.

Another thirty seconds pass, and Lance’s seizing tampers off until he falls still.

For seconds, no one moves, no one breaths, no one even blinks. The room is silent save the faint, muffled crackling of the ice packs, but after roughly a minute, Lance cracks one eye open, and a large wave of relief washes across the room, with each paladin breathing out relieved sighs and relaxing their tensed shoulders.

Coran takes a shaky step forward. “Lance, my boy. Are you back with us?” His voice is uncharacteristically quiet due to the exhaustion gripping at every corner. He’s beginning to realize he’s getting rather old, and he’s not able to do as much as his younger bones could.

Lance glances around the room before shifting his gaze down to spot the various cloths and ice packs. “What?” He rasps out, blinking slowly.

Shiro takes a step forward and crouches down until he’s eye level with Lance. “You’re very sick.”

Lance shakes his head. No he’s not. He’s fine, right? “It’s just a cold,” he presses, voice thick with confusion.

Shiro hums with a sympathetic vibrato just as Hunk steps forward. “Not quite, buddy. You’re running a scary high fever.”

“Enough to warrant a seizure,” Keith adds, voice sharp, piercing, but everyone in the room catches the underlining hint of concern.

Lance rolls his head until he’s staring at the blank ceiling above him. Curse his body. He’s always been susceptible to fevers, but he had been silently hoping that that would go away with age. Guess he’s wrong. “Sorry,” he mutters as thoughts that scream “You’re nothing but a burden!” shout across his mind.

“What?” Shiro shakes his head and places a hand to Lance’s arm. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Lance.”

“Yeah,” Pidge agrees from her spot curled up against Allura’s free side. “It’s not like you asked to get this sick.” She’s not one to seek out comfort, but seeing Lance in that state left her shaken to the core.

Lance breathes out a deep sigh. “I know. I just… I’m sorry, okay. It seems like you guys keep having to take care of me.” His thoughts creep down to his lips. “I’m just a burden. You guys should just leave.”

Keith pushes off the wall he’s been leaning on. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He storms forward and roughly climbs onto Lance’s bed until his back is against the wall beside the brunet’s legs. He draws his knees to his chest and drops his chin atop one bent knee before shooting a narrow-eyed gaze toward Lance. “Stop the pity party, Lance. We are all going to stay right here to make sure you don’t die on us.”

Everyone nods, even Coran, who looks as if he could drop into a deep slumber at any moment. Lance opens his mouth to protest, but before he can’t get a word out, Keith holds up a tired hand.

“Don’t. You can’t kick the bucket, Lance. Who else is going to he our loud-mouthed sharp shooter?”

Shiro hums in agreement. “I don’t know a single person who can do what you do, Lance. We need you.”

Need, Lance thinks. His eyes well with tears, but a comfortable heat spreads across his chest, and his heart welcomes it by offering quick, excited thumps that ring in his ears. All he ever wants in life is to be needed, wanted, accepted.

“Okay,” he breathes out, and a smile creeps across his lips as the others take various positions across his room while lightly chatting.

He blissfully nods off to the welcoming warmth of the room.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Wish Breakers Part 3

Sorry Guys, I’m on a roll with this for right now. Hopefully the inspiration lasts for one or two more parts, which should be enough to finish the story. 

Part 1

Part 2

After a few hours of traveling underground, we reached a large metal ladder, which led us onto a dirty alley. Facing us was a flickering neon sign over a metal door, which read “Goblin Inn.”

It was 3:09 PM.

“You weren’t joking, this is a real place?” I half expected my mother or Eric to break down laughing, and tell me this was a joke. All I got was a serious glance between them and her terse instructions: 

“Stay close, this could get ugly.” We entered the building. 

Immediately I was hit with a wall of noise: shrieks, shouts and growls echoed constantly through the large barroom, making me want to cover my ears. Everywhere I looked something was happening. Two large men traded punches in the corner, while everyone else ignored them. A group of pointy-eared people were playing poker. A smaller woman obviously didn’t like the hand she was dealt, as she set fire to the table in protest. A waiter, thin and long limbed, floated over and put the fire out with his water pitcher and they resumed their game. A couple danced in the corner, their blue-tinged skin radiating a faint light. Everyone seemed to be thinly disguised as human, similarly to Eric, but just not doing a very good job. As our arrival was noticed a silence fell over the bar.

“Well, if it isn’t the supreme Wish Breaker, herself!” One of the large, hairy men paused his assault of his neighbor and stalked towards us with a nasty grin. “I thought I smelled the stench of failure.” He stopped within inches of my mother, laughing. He reeked of alcohol and sweat. “How does it feel, huh? You always thought you were better than the rest of us, controlling the flow of magic in this world. But now,” he stuck a long finger in her face, “You’re nothing. Just food for the Fallen.”

He laughed again, his split lip from his earlier fight breaking open and dribbling blood on his chin. My mother smiled, the expression not reaching her eyes. Eric and I both recognized it and backed away a few steps, but the man didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Back away, before I make you.” Her voice was calm, which was even scarier.

He stepped closer, almost touching her. “You’re not in charge anymore.” He looked over and saw me. “And who’s this? Fresh meat? I…oomph.” He cut off abruptly as my mother’s fist connected with his face, sending him flying into the poker table. Several of the patrons screeched angrily, while I noticed the woman gathering up the scattered money on the floor and running for the door.

My mother was still smiling. “I warned you, Grot. It may be the end times, but I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Grot seemed stunned for a moment, and then brought his hand up to the large red mark on his face where she had struck him. His eyes narrowed. “You Bit…”

I didn’t see her move, but she was standing in front of him, a cocked pistol resting between his eyes. He swallowed his words and stood very still. The whole room followed suit, watching the fight unfold with morbid curiosity.

Then Eric stepped forward, breaking the tension. “Alright, Mara, let’s hold off on killing him just yet. He might be an idiot, but it tends to bring bad luck if you shoot someone before you have lunch. “ He led her towards the the stairs, “Why don’t you two head up and get settled in. I’ll get some food and be right behind you.”

He turned towards the bar, where a small, angry looking man wiped the counter. “You do still hold the Wish-Breaker room, right?”

The man nodded angrily. ”Third door on the left. You’re going to have to pay for that poker table.”

We headed up the stairs, leaving Eric to argue “extenuating circumstances” with the owner. The third door on the left looked slightly different than the others, I noticed that it had a silver handle. My mother grasped it gently and with a half turn, the door opened. We entered, sneezing a bit at the layer of dust that covered everything.

“Geez Mom, how long do you think it’s been since someone stayed here?”

Her answer was thoughtful “Twenty years and four months.” She was looking around the room, but I had a feeling she was seeing her past. I grabbed her arm, pulling her to the cleanest looking couch and sat down next to her.

“Look. We need to talk some stuff through.” She nodded but otherwise stayed silent, waiting for my question. I took a deep breath.

“Is Eric my father?”

“WHAT? No!” My mother looked shocked, as far as I could tell it was an honest reaction.

“Honey, I know your father died when you were five, but you still remember him, right?”

I shook my head. “I remember him, but that just means he lived with us and you told me he was my father. I never doubted that before, but since here we are, delving deep into this secret other life you’ve lead, your old flame showing up to join us… I just wondered…” I trailed off, embarrassed.

“No, I understand this has to be incredibly overwhelming for you.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I never wanted any of this for you. I just hoped I could keep you to the surface parts and protect you from the rest. Now I regret it.” Taking my hand she continued, looking sadly around the room. “I know you felt trapped by my expectations, believe me, I’ve been there. When I was your age there were still plenty of Wish Breaker family members around, judging me, reminding me of my duty.  I wanted a better life for you, but I suppose I ended up being just like them.”

I squeezed her hand. “Do you love Eric?”

“I did once.” She didn’t meet my eyes. “Now it’s more memories than anything else.”

I had to ask. “If you loved him why did you marry my father?” This was met with a bitter laugh.

“Expectations. Duty. Our family has been around a long time. I was expected to continue on the line. Eric was wonderful, but he’s Fairy kind and they can’t have children. Needed a human husband for that.”

“I’m sorry.” I looked down at my feet, scuffing a shoe against the dusty carpet.

“Don’t be.” She grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze to meet hers. I saw sadness there, expected it, but no regret lingered in her eyes. “I love you. And although David wasn’t my first choice in life, I loved him too. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

I gave her a hug. “I love you too.”

After a few long moments, she pushed me towards the side room where there was a bed. “Take a nap if you can, kid. We’ll have a busy night ahead.”

I snuggled under the surprisingly warm blankets, feeling tired but not quite ready to sleep. I was drifting off somewhat when I heard Eric enter the center room. I had left the door cracked just enough that I could see movement, and hear fairly well.

“Light?” His voice seemed older, more tired than it had when we first met.

“Taking a nap.”

“Good. That’s a good kid you’ve got there, deserves better than this mess.”

“Eighteen years old is hardly a kid.”

“I guess you’re right.” He laughed. “You were eighteen when we last saw each other, in this very room. Just finished putting down the rebellion of the Fallen. Seemed like such a big deal at the time. Of course, nothing compared to the storm brewing now.”

My mother sighed loudly; I head her get up and pace the room. “No kidding. This will make that battle seem like a schoolyard fight. “

“I was so cocky then. Led my first successful battle. Told a beautiful girl I loved her.” He hesitated. “Then it all came crashing down.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Why did you stay Eric? I told you the truth that day. We could never be together.”

“I know that now. Back then I was young and stupid enough to think I knew your heart better than you. Ah well, I’ve grown older and wiser. …Mostly just older.”

She laughed. “Well the years have been kind to you.”

“Not as kind as to you. You’ve barely aged at all?” I could hear the wonder in his voice. “I know there’s some Fae magic in your family, so you would age slower, but I thought with the price of the Wish Breaking it evened out.”

“Ah yes, the damned price of the Well. A year of my life for every year we hold the magic of the world away from others.” Her laugh was more bitter this time. “You know without it we would live almost twice as long as normal humans? Seemed a fair trade. We keep the world safe; in return we are reduced, year-by-year to a slightly less than normal lifespan. I shouldn’t look this good, Eric. I’m only here because Light wished me to be healthy.”

He sounded shocked. “What do you mean? How close to death were you?”

“A year or two away, not much more.”  

I gasped quietly, slapping a hand across my mouth to muffle the sound.

What did she mean? I knew she was sick, but…  I softly crept from the bed, sitting by the cracked door so I could hear more clearly. I lose a year of my life every year that I continue to do the Wish? I felt sick, a dull anger churning in my gut. How could she not tell me! I’ve lost two years of my life already!  

Eric seemed upset as well. “That doesn’t make sense! You should just be aged to a normal mortal woman in her early 40s, not at death’s door.”

There was a long pause. I leaned closer, desperate to hear her answer. “People think it’s such a simple thing, wishes.” Her voice was soft, sad. “It’s really much more complicated. My family has been striking deals with the magic of this world, feeding it our life force to protect every one else. I simply…struck a different deal. “

“What do you mean?” I silently echoed his question.

“I didn’t want… I couldn’t let my child face the same price. To be eaten away slowly by the well, by our family, until there’s nothing left.”

“Mara, what did you do?”

“I doubled the deal. Two years for every year of wishes. In exchange my child was guaranteed exclusion from the cost.”

I wanted to jump out, to call her out on such a stupid deal. Why would she throw her life away? She could have asked me, at least, for my thoughts on it! I was lifting my hand to open the door, when I was stopped by Eric’s question.

“You know what that means, right? If we succeed in this, and undo all the wishes done this morning, then you…”

“I’ll be returned back to the state I was in, plus the strain of all the activity from the full twelve hours since I was made healthy.”

“You’ll die.” His voice was flat, as if he could barely force the words out.

“Yes.” She was calm, accepting.

 I sat there, huddled against the wall in a strange inn, and despite all that had happened, having just learned about magic, wishes and the end of the world; all I could think about was my losing my mother. I dropped my head into my hands, tears seeping through my fingers.

“Light, it’s time to go.” Eric shook me awake, startling me.

“What?” I had fallen asleep on the floor, curled up in the corner of the room. At some point someone must have thrown a blanket on me. I pushed it off and stood, looking around, confused. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Just an hour.” He packed a small bag full of supplies, stopping a moment to toss me an apple. “Here, eat something. I’ve got more if you need it. Now let’s go, your mother is downstairs. We have to leave now.”

I took a bite of the apple, the crisp juice soothing the soreness of my throat. “Where are we going?”

He had been walking out the door, but at my question he turned, grinning.

“We’re going to go get an army.”

It was 4:32PM.