#I hope you write a continuation if it strikes your fancy!

[ok-illsignup]

THIS IS SO GOOD! Oh my goodness, your writing is pure poetry, pure gold!! I love how you used the concept of soulmates and made it unique - your characterizations are great <3

the sweetest

summary: when someone told you that being in love doesn’t necessarily mean loving, you couldn’t believe the absurdity of that statement. as life went on, the truth of those words would continue to weight heavily over your head.

cw: fem!reader, both mydei and reader are equally disturbed individuals, toxic relationships, codependency, angst, hurt with the littlest of comfort, soulties/soulmates au || wc: 10k

the food on your plate seemed especially unappealing today. on the other hand, was it ever? perhaps when you first stepped into Okhema, completely enamored by the culture. yes, you could remember it clearly - the way it would melt on your tongue, flavors mixing with fresh air you’d breathe in everyday on the high balcony. meat and fruits, expensive wine you spent way too much money on. you’d chuckle to yourself as you dipped the slices of cheese in honey, thinking about how lucky you were to reside in the holy city. the state of unawareness you possessed only made everything more blissful.

right now the dinner was nothing but dry - with the first bite, you genuinely thought you would choke. it tasted the same way his name felt on your lips. Mydeimos. the man that decided to test your patience, will and mental strength everyday. you didn’t like the thought, but did he bring anything other than misery into your life? at first you didn’t want to perceive the relationship you both shared as something inherently bad — as time went on, it turned out near impossible. venom seemed to be laced through his words, and you knew that it seeped from your mouth too. sometimes you liked to imagine him as the wrong one - however, with the way things stood, you were equal in your spite. you could stop the chain of events and run somewhere else, to another city. looking back, it was the best option you had, and yet still declined to take. rope bound your hands to his, and you would tug on it relentlessly. in the back of your mind, the image of Mydei finally stumbling over, and letting go replayed constantly. but if it ever came to that, would you be satisfied? happy?

the answer was simple, but dreadful all the same - no.

as you took another bite of your meal, the image of your late mother flashed. perhaps she was the root of all your suffering? the damned prophecy she revealed to you when you were younger, of a boy with golden hair dipped in blood, who one day would bask in glory.

"you see, my dear [name], all of humanity has their other half, hidden somewhere. not everyone is destined to meet them, but you will. i’m sure of that."

(the way she smiled at you with so much glee in her eyes was disgusting).

"but mom, how do you know?"

(you wish you never asked this question).

"i have my ways," she chuckled, swiping the mischievous hair behind your ear, "see that mark on your wrist? look for someone with the same one. it means you both are meant to be."

you glanced at the singular line that stretched from the knuckles up to your wrist, and thought it looked more like a scar than anything else. you have seen other people with similar marks - but they were always more intricate. veins of ivy embedding an arm, or stars splattered in a specific pattern. yours wasn’t like that.

"ugh… that will be so hard to spot on someone! do you at least know how that person looks?"

the woman seemed to take a second of contemplation. "well, it was revealed to me in a vague way. but i can tell you, if you want to."

"yes, please!" you giggled as you jumped up all thrilled, tugging at the long sleeve of her dress. to your younger self, there was nothing more exciting than finally meeting the person you were 'tied' to. your soulmate.

"alright then,” your mother nodded, giving your head an affectionate ruffle, "his hair is blonde. it’s a very beautiful color, mixed with red. those eyes… striking to the bone. a born leader, i’m sure."

at that, you hummed in deep acknowledgment as you tried to imagine the boy. for some reason, nothing concrete came to you. still, it wasn’t like you were unsatisfied - maybe you had a different picture in mind, but that person was destined to you nevertheless! as you kept on brooding, one of your friends suddenly called out to you. immediately distracted, you followed after the beckoning girl to play in the fields.

how you wished it ended at that. your past self forgot, and kept on frolicking in the lush meadows with your old friends forever. your mother never passed, and you pursued your physician studies at home. the soulmate you dreamt of meeting got left behind as nothing but a mere, blurry visualization. but here you were, sitting in one of the apartments of Okhema, locked up in your room. Mydei was probably attending to some important stuff, or bickering with Phainon, like he always did. maybe they were sparring? from the sound of clashing swords outside, it was likely.

you sighed, digging the knife into the piece of meat with more force than necessary. the momentary guilt you felt from blaming your mother for the situation you created with your own hands shook you a bit. how could you? she never meant any harm. nor did you, but things turned out as they did, and who else was there to blame?

perhaps the winds that took you to the holy city.

it was unbearably hot that day. sweat covered your temples as you tried cooling down your face with a makeshift fan (which worked poorly). still, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of excitement wash over you as you took the views in. streets bustling with life, merchants yelling over each other, people laughing somewhere, and children running to their heart’s contents. the general atmosphere successfully pushed the discomfort to the back of your mind. it was only your sixth day in Okhema, yet you were already feeling as if it was the place you belonged to.

your peaceful stroll quickly came to a halt when you saw an awfully familiar silhouette standing not so far away. you didn’t know the man - it was not possible, as it was your first time seeing him. however, something about him seemed… unsettlingly different. you could recognize the blonde-red hair, so rare and distinct. you felt your heart jump - both from fear and elation, a mixture that caused you to freeze. you blinked twice, then rubbed your eyes, but the man was still there, talking to someone.

you clenched your fists as you remembered the words of your clairvoyant mother. meeting your soulmate wasn’t the objective of life you led so far, but the thought of having someone important was still dear to your heart. with new-found resolve, you took a few steps forward, wondering how you could strike up the conversation. first impression was always the most important, after all. the image of coming up to a stranger, and waving your mark before his eyes was ridiculous. what if it wasn’t him, after all? now that would’ve been awkward.

you approached the blonde, gently patting his arm.

"excuse me, sir, how do i get to the baths?" you could never go wrong with a classic. of course, you knew the way to the baths, but playing oblivious was your best option.

when he turned to face you, you felt your blood pressure rise once more. two golden hues met with yours, and at that moment, you knew your mother was right. striking. it was the only word you could use to describe them. fierce eyes filled with something your mind couldn’t quite comprehend. your gaze flickered over all of his body in search of a soulmate mark, yet you were unable to spot it. stress squeezed your guts. where was it? under his clothes? if so, then you had no real way of confirming if he was the one.

as he opened his mouth to answer you, his vision seemed to suddenly lock onto something else - your right hand. recognition seeped onto his face, and you felt brief relief before the man’s expression twisted. something was wrong. why wasn’t he happy? you were, at least that’s what you thought a few seconds ago. joy quickly morphed into an ugly feeling of distress, sitting firmly at the bottom of your stomach.

"is… is there something wrong?" you asked, furrowing your brows as the relentless sun beamed straight onto your nape. it seemed as if the heat only made the situation worse.

"i know you asked for directions, but i’d like to have a talk with you. in private." he glanced at the other man who was still standing there, "then, i can lead you to the bathhouse."

the slightly harsh tone of his voice made you wince, but you nodded, knowing that refusal wasn’t a choice you could afford to make here. the blonde excused himself, telling you to follow him somewhere secluded. you did, even though something deep within your mind was screaming at you to turn on your heel and run. at that time, you didn’t recognize it as anything other than nervousness. at least now you were aware your gut feeling was right. back then, if you decided to dismiss the man, would it all turn out differently? it is common knowledge - you meet your soulmate once, and the universe will make sure for you to never truly part ways. at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. you could have sprinted with all your might, but you’d still cross paths nevertheless. be it in a few months, maybe on your deathbed. there was no telling.

to be honest, it was much more of a complex problem. you could continue to blame all of your choices, thinking of ways you should have avoided it. the domino effect began long time ago, when your mother first got sick, and soon the delightful life you once had crumbled over your own head. all of your struggles lacked in any meaning, and the house of cards you meticulously crafted for all those years got swiped by a strong gust of wind. grief-stricken people seek resolve, and the only way of keeping your mind from the tragedy was to change your environment.

image of the man’s back as you trailed after him like some kind of a ghost was still vivid. something between his shoulder blades, located around his thoracic vertebrae caught your attention. it wasn’t easy to tell, but there it was. slightly obscured by his clothes, a singular line. that really was him. surely, the moment of meeting your soulmate didn’t go as planned, but perhaps he was more… sensitive than you? your fantasies of jumping into each other’s arms got successfully dimmed by his rather odd reaction, yet you couldn’t blame him. after all, it was so sudden, so unexpected. obviously he’ll eventually warm up to you.

after walking into an alleyway, you finally stopped, almost bumping into his back. fortunately, it was much darker and cooler here, and he couldn’t see the sweat beading on your forehead. the blonde turned to face you, his expression unreadable. it wasn’t angry, nor sad, but rather cautious in a certain way.

"show me your hand.” he demanded, stretching out his palm towards you. the man was straightforward, that’s for sure. usually you’d have no problem with it, except this time it actually irked you.

"you won’t even introduce yourself?" you cocked your eyebrow, gazing up at him with a bold look. his piercing gaze made you feel as if he wanted to fix you into place, just like people do with dragonflies. securing them with pins and needles, their lifeless forms never to move again.

you managed to spot the twitch of his eye. “Mydeimos." he huffed, lips stretching into a thin line, as if he was barely stopping himself from adding unnecessary comments.

"[name]." you replied shortly, placing your hand atop his. resisting made no sense, even though you wished to spite the impossibly impatient man.

is it really your soulmate if your first thought is to make his life harder? are you truly meant to be when instead of feeling giddy and excited, you’re starting to become irritated?

a clipped breath of disbelief escaped Mydei’s lungs, his grip on your hand strengthening just for a second before he let go. "why do you look so calm? do you not have any oppositions towards a stranger dragging you off, and then showing him your mark?”

that was a fair question. you definitely were acting as if the course of action was natural, even though it wasn’t.

"my mother, she—" you began, thinking of the simplest way you could explain it to him, "when i was younger, she had a prophetic vision. specifically speaking, of my soulmate. she managed to describe you to me, and the image stuck." a heavy sigh slipped from your mouth as you got met with silence, urging you to continue. "well, of course i wasn’t sure if it was you, but once i saw your back…"

you trailed off, wondering what caused Mydei to be so deeply submerged in his thoughts. all the time he kept quiet, looking between you and your wrist, as if contemplating something.

"a-are you not happy?" you managed to force out, dreading the response he would offer. slowly, the hopes of a better life with someone by your side started to fall apart.

you should have stayed in your hometown. why didn’t you?

(grief-stricken people seek resolve).

why do they seek resolve?

(because they have nothing—)

"no." Mydei’s curt answer cut through the air, making you jump. "i’ve no time for soulmates, or any other type of romance." he scoffed, "hmph, to think that a person would willingly put themselves through such trouble simply because of a mark on their skin."

you watched the man cross his arms over his chest, your eyebrows narrowing together. "then why didn’t you ignore me earlier? if soulmates really hold no significance to you, why’d you confirm we are tied?" you almost barked out, feeling the heat crawl back on your skin. oh no, you wouldn’t let it go simply because your soulmate is apparently also a coward.

"listen, i understand why you’re upset. my mind won’t change, though." the man’s tone got a bit darker, as if owning you at least an explanation was already too demanding. "i just wanted to set things straight with you. it is more than probable we’ll… stumble upon each other some more."

"so you don’t want me to get my hopes up, is that it?" you barely contained your anger, Mydei’s indifference only adding to the fire in your chest.

"exactly. now, do you still want me to show you the way to the baths? or was that just an excuse in order to talk to me?"

your fists clenched by your sides, and the thought of slapping him across the face appeared in your mind. fortunately (or perhaps not), you were above that.

"bastard." you hissed through your teeth, rapidly turning on your heel and walking away. damn him and that stupid stubbornness, and his hair, and eyes, and— and everything! not only did your 'soulmate' humiliate you, he seemed so stoic about the whole situation in contrast to your boiling blood — as if he didn’t care at all! and the bitter truth was, he most likely didn’t. why did your mother insist that you find him? her passing already took an unfathomable toll on you, and now her absurd death-bed wishes continued to only further your misery.

''once i’m gone, you’ll be left on your own'' she’d say, her voice trembling with fatigue, ‘'you’ll need someone to take care of you. to stand by your side, and protect from the world’s harm.'’

couldn’t you protect yourself? did she really think so lowly of you?

'’he will treat you well. i’m sure of it."

(liar).

you closed your eyes, traversing the streets at a fast pace. tears welled up behind your eyelids, and you knew it wasn’t because of how Mydeimos rejected you, but rather at the memory of your frail mom. the unwavering love still filling her gaze as coughs shook her body, careworn words urging you to find a better life. perhaps you weren’t doing it for yourself, but rather for her - for that ghostly vision of her face.

you seldom fought for anything, however now it seemed that a new resolve sparked within you. you won’t stick by your soulmate’s side, but you’ll strive. depending on anybody was no good, and that much was clear to you.

the memory of that fateful day made you cringe as you attempted to convince yourself the vegetables you were currently chewing on weren’t exactly awful in taste. they were, but you still continued to eat. wasting food wasn’t something you usually did, even if it was disgustingly bland.

three years passed since then, but all those events were still clear as a day in your mind. you remember swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t even look at Mydei���s face — turns out, Phainon found out about the correlation between you. it was long before you and Mydei started to jump at each other’s necks, so you were sure the man harbored no harm when he came up with that wicked plan of his. for whatever reason, he thought that playing a matchmaker was his call, and by some means he found out about your qualifications for a physician. the energy that emanated through your body, which took you years to master into a healing form would soon be used for a ‘greater good'.

Chrysos Heirs never exactly lacked in medical care, yet now you were hired as their personal nurse. by that, you also found out Mydei was apparently the crown prince of Kremnos. it wasn’t like you were unaware of his high status in society, but the sheer importance he carried took you by surprise. with that, something else was revealed — he couldn’t die. he was a warrior, and his body lacked in any kind of scarring. when you first heard it, you were almost relieved, as it obviously meant he wasn’t in the need of a physician.

turns out your hopeful thinking was for nothing, as your current position was only meant to get you both closer. you could as well be polishing the baths, and it wouldn’t make any difference.

it began out slow, and you don’t remember which one of you started it. you would regularly see Mydei, and share just a mere glance of acknowledgment. sometimes he’d scoff under his nose, then again you’d make a brief remark about his attitude. those small interactions were nothing but a dragged out prelude to the events that future held for you. a testament of sorts, building the fundaments of your downfall. snarky comments couldn’t sate neither of you, and soon you’d begin to argue on daily basis. soulmates are further cemented by interaction - which you were aware of, yet couldn’t stop digging your own grave. every time you talked to Mydei, you knew the mud around your ankles got denser, and soon you’d be stuck. he would be as well - at least you weren’t the only one at disadvantage here. constant fighting was draining, even for the mighty prince, and that thought never failed to make you chuckle grimly under your breath.

others took notice of the scenes you both would cause. sometimes they would end long before escalation, but more often than not Mydei was faced with flying ceramics, and you with a logorrhea of curses and damnations. the worst part is that it didn’t only affect you, but others too. even though you both had enough decorum to stop yourself from fighting in front of civilians, Aglaea would often point out how anxious Tribbie got, careworn by your constant barking and scowling. Phainon has shown genuine concern too, going as far as to scolding Mydei. needless to say, he was always getting dismissed by a wave of the uninterested man. as how things were unfolding, you had thought many times of leaving the Okhema. however, wouldn’t that equal you admitting defeat? in your soulmate’s eyes, your picture would be reduced to a cowardly nobody. for some reason, it would sting way more than his words.

"everytime you open your mouth, i am physically resisting the urge to push you off a cliff!" you seethed, shutting the cutlery drawer with an unnecessary amount of force. the knives and forks clattered inside loudly, filling the communal kitchen with an unpleasant noise.

"what makes you think you could?" Mydei snapped back, perhaps hoping to intimidate you. in answer, you cocked your head to the side, granting him with an unaffected look.

"just a guess, but you’re not very likable, are you?" you swiftly changed the topic, knowing that pushing him off a cliff was certainly impossible, and you had no arguments to back up your homicidal idea. "even your own people seem to—"

his eyebrows narrowed dangerously, clear indication you were walking on thin ice. "you’re not exactly popular around here, either." he interrupted, "you’re just a nurse, gods know from where—"

"just a nurse?!"

"—and nobody seems to take you seriously-"

"you’re foolish if you think i care about the opinion of other’s, especially yours!"

"well, maybe you should start to, because—"

"you think yourself mighty, huh? not everyone’s gonna be—"

"—i have a very good advice! pack your things, get out of Okhema, and as far—"

"—kissing your feet and worshipping the ground you walk on! unlike most people, i—"

"—as i am concerned, no one would miss you!"

"—actually have eyes and i’m capable of recognizing a cowardly bastard!"

you both kept screaming over each other, interrupting, and snarling as the packet of sugar between your fingers seemed close to ripping in half from the amount of tugging it faced. it was a conflict you could easily resolve, yet you seemed to ignore the fact. why share the sugar when you could fight for it instead?

every single one of your days in the holy city looked like that, filled with the sound of biting teeth and roars of anger. if you avoided the clashes, Mydei wouldn’t perceive you as someone worthy of recognition (and you needed to be, you had to make his life harder for the way he was treating you). if you ran, he’d laugh about it with others, saying how easy to scare off you were.

you could try to justify the reasons why you stayed, but at the end of the day, one answer resonated profoundly in the back of your mind — you wanted to prove it didn’t hurt.

"hey, would you two—"

"what?!" you yelled in unison, your necks snapping towards the innocent Phainon who stood in the doorframe of the kitchen, a bit shocked. you didn’t even notice when the sugar package torn in half, its contents pouring all over the floor.

"…keep it down." he finished with utter disappointment, his weary eyes taking in the mess you both made. "look, now because of your petty arguments the sugar is wasted."

Mydei measured you with his fierce gaze, and you did the same. the air got heavy with tension once more as you stared at each other with murderous intent, mulling over whichever insults would be the best this time. Phainon gripped the bridge of his nose with silent resignation, knowing the unavoidable screaming match was going to erupt once more.

"you clean it up!" you bursted out, pointing towards the sugar-covered tiles.

"no, you clean it up, you imbeci—!"

"why would i? i wanted the sugar first, and you started to—"

"what?! no, i put my hands on it first!"

"gods, you’re insufferable! that’s not how it—"

Phainon shook his head, closing the kitchen door with a loud thud. you paid no mind to him, way too occupied by your quarrel. even from the halls, he could still hear the distant shouting, and began to wonder how long it’ll take before someone loses their mind.

the arguments you shared varied on the scale of severity. one time they were closer to a bicker, and everyone was grateful that at least you didn’t want to kill each other. a few hours later the clamor was back on, and wouldn’t stop until you both got fed up. it mattered little whether the cause of your argument was serious, or no — you’d still put your everything into those screams. if someone told you that everyday you’d be having an altercation with the crown prince of Kremnos — be it about who gets the last sugar packet, or who is more of a pathetic-foolish-wrongdoer — you wouldn’t believe them.

it is said that soulties can make you feel emotions tenfold. sorrow, anger, joy, love. it only applied towards one’s soulmate, but could be destructive nonetheless. it can either make you more infatuated, or cause you to regret ever meeting them. you surely identified with the latter.

exactly one year passed before your relationship with Mydeimos took… a slightly off-track route.

it was pretty obvious that you and him were at your wits ends, and bearing any more of that would lead you both astray. each day, you prayed to whoever was willing to listen, begging for this nightmarish charade to finally end. countless days spent on either bawling your eyes out, or tearing your throat as you screamed in frustration were making you more than exhausted. wicked satisfaction coming from making Mydei’s existence harder was meek, and the constant headaches drove you up the wall. you felt trapped — perhaps you truly were. dark shadows hanging low under the man’s eyes were a clear indication he felt the same. still, no matter how much you tried to stay separated, the nature of soulmates was unavoidable. a bond, no matter how dire, once created wouldn’t be able to break. it could only progress further, and when you realized that you were practically attached by the hip, your heart sank low. did you really have no way of breaking free in this dystopian world? nowadays, even your own thoughts seemed to betray you. whenever you crossed the line with Mydei and said too much, guilt would follow you around like a stray dog. a dog from what? the nether, most likely. a vicious, snarling hound, gnawing at your bones, only to lick the marrow with apology in its bottomless eyes.

a tug of war. that’s the best way you could describe it.

as always, the sun hung high on the horizon, and even though you liked to think of yourself as accustomed to the holy city’s climate, it still took a toll on you. you decided to open the window, hoping the fresh breeze would make you feel better. it did, even if just a little. you sighed in relief, smiling to yourself as you watched children playing outside of your surgery’s window. they seemed so carefree, falling and instantly getting up, unable to pay any attention to their scraped knees as the whirl of fun distracted them from pain. this sight brought distant memories, buried somewhere deep within your mind. once, you were like them too — running around the fields, covered in dirt and grass until your mother would finally drag you home, and lecture how dangerous it was to stray so far away. when was the last time you thought about that? life in the holy city stripped you away from all that was once dear. never ending conflicts and problems piling upon one another, forcing you to push back any comfort left.

you prayed that those children would never have to bear such burdens, even though it was nigh impossible to avoid.

as you continued to brood, someone opened the door. your head snapped towards the direction of the sound, immediately recognizing the silhouette. your brows furrowed as you tore yourself off from the windowsill, stepping a bit closer to the man. it was an extremely rare occurrence — him visiting you out of his own volition, that is. you sent him a cautious look, feeling a tinge of anxiety rise up in your gut. you were having such a good day, and now he probably came to ruin it, likely out of boredom. you already opened your mouth to chase him away, but before you could say anything his voice resonated through the room.

"what?" Mydei asked, as if your expression offended him, "can’t i visit our physician?" the man’s words were phrased like one of his usual sarcastic remarks, making your brow twitch.

your frown deepened slightly as you continued to study him with intent eyes. something was obviously off. "well, why’re you here then?"

at that, Mydei paused. his gaze jumped around the room, and he appeared a bit conflicted. it was unlike him to be caught off guard like that, but he came to you - obviously he had a goal in mind, yet now he refused to voice his thoughts. perhaps his pride didn’t allow him to. if it was anybody else you’d be already on the case, sitting them down and coercing into admitting their troubles. however, this was Mydei, and you were adamant about helping him. you stood there, tapping your foot as you scrutinized him, waiting for the man to finally say something.

before your patience managed to reach its limit, his voice once again tore through the silence. "i want you to cast healing energy on me."

you barely stopped your burst of laughter caused by the absurdity of his demand. seriously, come again? he seemed completely fine, standing straight and still managing to get on your nerves. if it wasn’t the picture of health, then you definitely didn’t know what it was. anyway, since when did he experience any kind of pains? Mydei was able to take blows effortlessly and live through fatal wounds, and now he was asking you to waste your time on him. was it to ridicule you?

"you’re joking, right?" you put your hands on your hips, restraining yourself from making any unnecessary comments. for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like fighting today. truthfully, you never did.

"is it really so unbelievable to you, [name]?" the man scoffed, taking few long strides towards the medical bed, "and you dare call yourself a physician." he taunted, a crooked smirk stretching his lips.

Mydei sat heavily, making the bed creak dangerously under the sudden pressure - you winced, hoping it wouldn’t break. you could feel your blood pressure rising, but you clenched your teeth in order to keep any remarks behind them. no, you won’t allow him to get a rise out of you. not today.

"alright, let’s assume something is genuinely wrong with you. what is it?"

another prolonged pause. the only sound filling the space was distant laughter and ticking of the clock hanging on one of the walls. it was arguably worse than listening to Aglaea’s scoldings.

"must you always ask such stupid questions? get to work, or i’ll make sure you bid goodbye to your little workplace tomorrow morning." after a while of contemplation Mydei snarled, visibly annoyed by your questions. it’s something he often did - threaten you. he rarely pulled off any of his promises, but they still made your mind stir with anxieties. if you could, you’d take a basin filled with water and forcibly dip his head inside until he finally lost consciousness. an unrealistic vision it was, because before you’d manage to get a handful of his golden locks, he would have already knocked the water out of your hands and laughed at your poor attempts.

why did you keep putting up with him, even though you were fed up beyond reason?

(grief-stricken people seek resolve).

"at least i wouldn’t need to look at your face everyday," you snapped back, closing the distance between you two, "tell me what’s bothering you, or i won’t cast anything."

it’s not like you cared — you genuinely didn’t, but you wouldn’t be effective unless you knew where the problem was rooted. spreading energy through the whole body was always pretty demanding, so you’d rather focus on one specific spot. you waited for Mydei’s response, but upon receiving none, you sighed with defeat. you throughly washed your hands with soap (something unpleasant crawled up your spine as you felt his eyes fixated on you the whole time), and stepped behind the bed. the sooner he leaves, the better.

you usually announced whenever you started to cast your energy, as the feeling at first was often akin to a slight shock. this time however, you firmly put your hands on his back and surged all of it at once, wanting to capture his jolty reaction. unsurprisingly, Mydei didn’t do anything other than gaze at the floor tiles with a bored look. how come things never turned out the way you wanted? with a little more fervor, you moved your hands towards the nape of his neck. your fingers twitched as you imagined curling them around his throat, cutting out the oxygen — but soon you turned down the vision. you weren’t always like this - this aggressive, and violent. what were you even thinking? Mydei was the bane of your existence, but it’s not like he deserved to suffer.

(or maybe he did?)

your brows narrowed together as you forced the intrusive thoughts out of your mind space. you were a medic, damn it—

"are you doing this on purpose, or what?" he murmured, slightly turning his face to look at you from the corner of his eye. you blinked twice, not understanding what he was referring to. "i mean breathing so hard on my neck. stop it."

you almost retracted your hands, suddenly feeling a mixture of embarrassment and ire. you didn’t even realize that your breaths got so labored, and much to your chagrin, you had no witty response to offer. with a heavy heart, you continued to move your palms around the man’s back, trying to find out yourself where his pains were located. finally, when you stopped around the shoulder blades, Mydei’s muscles seemed to relax at last, even if just a little bit.

"does it hurt here?" you asked absentmindedly, focusing on the flow of energy escaping your fingers.

being so gentle with someone who would never do the same to you felt almost disgusting. but you weren’t wicked at heart, and it was your job to put people at ease instead of furthering their misery. your mother would never approve of causing harm, no matter if the patient was especially awful.

Mydei nodded in response, his back hunching. you took that as a 'yes', continuing to heal. after about three minutes you were done, and the man got up from his seat, stretching his limbs as if he just woke up from a long slumber. you worked your expression into something more unpleasant, worried that if he saw the softened look on your face he might mock you for it.

"we’re done now, so get out of my face." you announced bluntly, the tone of your voice turning harsher than before.

he didn’t even spare you a glance as he walked towards the exit. "i don’t feel any difference. you’re awful at this, [name]." Mydei answered, shutting the door with a loud 'thud!'.

you stood there for a longer while, contemplating whether you should run after the man and choke him like you wanted to earlier. you ultimately abandoned that idea, instead sitting back into the chair and cradling your head with your hands. you hated Mydei. not because he was horrible, but rather because you still were somehow able of being delicate with him. why? how was that physically possible? bodies respond to spite with stronger reactions that yours — if your hatred was real, you wouldn’t even let him into your surgery in the first place.

that dreadful thought would haunt you for the next two years, everyday.

normally, you wouldn’t even dare to reminiscence about such things, but the dull taste of cauliflower made you think of equally terrible recollections. during the second year of your stay in Okhema, things took the turn for worse, and the unpleasant sensation on your tongue made all of your memories resurface.

the drastic shift in the air definitely felt like a thunder’s roar, at least in retrospection. soulmates are a complex thing, and even though they play a very significant role in people’s lives, the research on them is surprisingly lacking. alas, one thing is for sure — there is no turning back. the same applied to yours and Mydei’s case, the feelings of odium soon melting into something more conflicted. he was - much to your dismay - occupying your mind all the time. of course you would think of him earlier on, however back then it definitely got out of hand. constant questions plagued your already fatigued brain, forcing you to seek him out. you did nothing but argue, or huff and scoff at each other, but somehow it put you at ease. a certain sense of twisted familiarity. it worked both ways, unfortunately, and whenever you got busy with work, he’d still come bustling through your door. sometimes you’d fight, other times he’d ramble about things that got on his nerves, and you listened. you started to rely on him — apparently the same happened to Mydei, as Phainon often pointed out how agitated he got whenever you got separated for too long.

you never acknowledged the change in your behavior. it came naturally, just like sun peeks from behind the clouds after rain. your stormy relationship didn’t exactly calm down — Phainon still complained about the noise you two would make, and Castorice winced whenever you both appeared in the same room. mayhem followed in your wake, but at least Mydei stopped his constant threats on your person, and you spared the plates you oh-so-loved throwing at his head (even though he always avoided every single one of them).

what didn’t stop however, was the feeling of going crazy. hatred, spite and agitation took the nightmarish shape of obsession. alienation shook your bones whenever you tried forming any other meaningful connections, and your thoughts always sprinted back to the only question in your head: "where is Mydei?".

more often than not, you felt as if you completely lost yourself. the promises you made to your own self — to run far away from that man, never looking back — it all seemed so distant now. two years of mental exhaustion made your perception crooked, and everything seemed wrong. sometimes you’d wake up and look around, feeling as if someone moved the furniture in your surgery. it wasn’t rearranged, no, but the placement was off by a few inches. the same feeling of unease would creep up on you whenever you thought about how cruelly you betrayed yourself.

Mydeimos was important to you. coming to terms with that fact was hard, and the unfathomable hurt of it was almost comparable to when you cradled your mother’s terrifyingly bony hands in yours. two completely different situations, yet you still felt as if they shared a common ground — your downfall. it will continue to torment you, until your body will finally be lowered in a casket.

the worst part is, you still don’t know whether you genuinely lost your mind, or if the soultie effect caused it.

everything is changing. everything is getting worse. Phainon payed you a visit today, and he was talking about something, yet you couldn’t recall what it was. you gave him some tea — he said it was the best he had in a long time. you wanted to believe him, but the way his lips stretched in unnaturally cordial smile indicated otherwise. you couldn’t blame him though, as the brew was prepared with health-prosperity in mind. you could put a few sugar cubes inside, but it would defeat its original purpose.

the conversation between you and him didn’t stick, and you felt awkward. when you first got into the holy city, Phainon was definitely someone you would call a friend. he secured you a good job and a place to live, and would always try cheering you up. right now, there was an invisible wall separating you both. you could see no way around it.

"so, uhh, [name]," he began after a long pause, putting down the elegant cup back on the table, "Mydei was asking about you. i told him you were busy with work, so that he wouldn’t bother you." Phainon let out an unsure chuckle, carefully observing your expression.

you hummed in acknowledgment, taking a sip of your herbal drink. "good thing you did, else i’d have to put up with that man for gods know how long."

the image of Mydei walking unceremoniously into your surgery, and starting to pick at you made your skin crawl. you’d pick at him too, spewing insults left and right. you’d push him to the limits, watching the man come undone in front of your own eyes before the conversation would turn into a screaming match. then, you’d calm down. he’d stare at the tiles again, counting, and you would fall onto your chair with a resigned sigh. Mydei would eventually apologize, and you’d smile at him. it sounded terrible, no?

(yet you still yearned for it, the equal ruin).

Phainon laughed genuinely now, and you had to admit that happiness looked great on him. as of late, he seemed more worried than usual.

"well, i’m glad you approve of my decisions. you two really don’t get along, do you?" he mused, his gaze now trailing over to the window. perhaps the sights outside were more interesting than your face.

"no, no we don’t." you admitted in a weak voice, even though you didn’t want to sound so unconvinced. what was there to deny? someone once compared you and Mydei to two tigers — you didn’t catch on it until later, when you realized those animals were prone to killing each other in fights to death. that person was on point, much to your chagrin.

when you were unable of adding anything else to your lacking sentence, you thought it would be better for you to spend time with some other people. perhaps then you’d relearn what it means to be a normal, functioning human instead of a husk who only could spew and clash.

"oh, look at the time [name]!" Phainon suddenly called out, getting up a little bit too fast from his seat. "Aglaea wanted to see with me, and i don’t want to be late." he explained vaguely as you sent him a perplexed look, also standing up.

"a-alright then." you stammered out, taken aback by his rapid reaction. maybe he got bored, and came up with an excuse on the spot. "see you soon?"

"yeah, see you soon." he sent you a slightly nervous smile before walking out of the door. you watched him disappear, the surgery once more filled up with silence. you gazed at his barely touched tea, and decided to pour it out in the sink.

as you were doing that, you heard the distinctive footsteps outside. you didn’t even get the chance to turn around before Mydei walked through the entrance, that ever-present scowl on his face deeper than usual. you carefully placed down the cup, afraid of breaking it. it was your favorite, and you couldn’t afford to lose anything else dear to your heart, even if it was only porcelain.

"so that’s what you were busy with, huh?" the man asked, his tone low as he stepped closer to you. at first you didn’t understand what he meant, but after a second everything clicked. Phainon lied to him on your account, and then managed to spot him through your window. he left in hurry, thinking that Mydei discovering you both would only cause more problems. your heart clenched at his consideration as you observed the man with narrowed eyes.

"are you insinuating something?" you hissed, feeling the tension in the air arise with every second. "who are you to tell me what to do anyway? go find someone else to bully, because i’m really not in the mood for your bullshit."

"no, i’m not insinuating anything," he replied, venom practically dripping from his words, "i simply find it hilarious that you thought you could deceive me like that. do i look stupid to you, [name]?"

you couldn’t help the huff of irritation escaping your lungs as you looked around yourself, almost bewildered. Mydei seldom acted like that — yes, he was an absolute pain, however he has never outwardly shown his disapproval of you meeting with others. you didn’t even like Phainon in a romantic sense, and you never would. to think that this man came to such a conclusion was baffling, especially when you two weren’t even in a relationship.

"deceive you? are you crazy?" you barked out, spreading your arms apart, "you’re acting absurdly, Mydei! do you think i’m your possession, or something? you always seem to talk about how much you despise me, and yet here you are, ordering me around as you see fit!"

"it’s because—" the man paused, as if searching for the best words, long fingers woving through his hair. "you’re driving me mad, [name]! can’t you see? can’t you see what you’ve done?!" he shouted, making you want to take a step back. instead, you boldly rendered the distance between you two.

insanity. the slow descent into pits of human destruction kept dragging him down — perhaps you were much lower than Mydei, gripping his ankles and pulling — or maybe you were above, waving at the man, beckoning him to crawl out. as things were standing now, you were equal in your devastation.

"why are you blaming me?! go blame yourself, you lunatic!" you seethed, grabbing something from the drawer beside you. you paid no attention to the item in your hand, your sight focused solely on Mydei.

why do things between you always have to escalate at such a quick rate? sometimes you felt as if you were treading above an active volcano, where one wrong move could lead to a rapid eruption. you thought of yourself as the victim, and that much was foolish, as you were deeply aware you and him were both lava, and nothing else.

when Mydei failed to snap back in time, you decided to provoke him some more. "what, maybe you’re just jealous? it definitely sounds like that to me." you sneered, but the thought seemed horrifyingly real.

"why would i be jealous of someone like you?" he retaliated, even though the false denial in his expression was obvious, "look at yourself! you think that little cup will do me any harm? you must be really slow of mind." he laughed mockingly at the weapon you gripped in the palm of your hand.

to this day, you still don’t know what pushed you to such extreme. maybe it had something to do with soulties, or you were simply becoming what you’ve always hated. still, the already weakened strings which previously held your sanity together seemed to snap, and no amounts of regret could fix it.

"want to see for yourself?" you didn’t wait for the man’s response, shattering the porcelain across your tiled floor. you immediately bent down to reach for the biggest fragment, cutting yourself in the process, though you cared little for the stinging pain in your fingertips.

possessed by anger that only someone literally tied to your soul could evoke, you surged towards Mydeimos, aiming at his throat. he wouldn’t die, but the few minutes of him coughing up blood and gripping his own slashed neck would be enough to satiate you. you didn’t care that after his recovery, he’d likely kill you. leading such a life carried no sense within anyway.

("you are a medic, my sweet girl. your job is to save people, and make them happy. isn’t that a wonderful vocation? make your mother proud. i’m sure you can”).

Mydei gripped your wrists as you flailed your limbs, struggling against his strength. you kicked at his shin, your foot meeting with the golden metal, and you cursed yourself for forgetting it was there in the first place. a sickening whine of pain ripped from your throat as you realized that even if he unhanded you, letting you do as you please, you still wouldn’t be able to hurt him. after all, how could you?

the force of your efforts made you both stumble down and crash onto the hard floor, littered with sharp pieces of the cup. you felt the breath get knocked out of your chest as you gazed up at the man with wide, terrified eyes. warm blood trickled down your hand, and only then you realized just how deeply you wounded yourself. tears fogged over your vision as dry cries began to jerk your body.

(why do grief-stricken people seek resolve?)

(because they have nothing).

"i’m—" you sobbed, your voice trembling as you looked at Mydei’s equally shaken expression, "i’m so sorry! i’m so very, very sorry!" you wailed, letting go of the porcelain fragment, hearing it clatter on the ground. the man slowly released your wrists from his grasp, still hovering above you.

"stop it, [name]. i went overboard this time. you don’t have to apologize." his voice was uncharacteristically doleful as he observed your face, measuring the amount of tears with downcast eyes.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. you could lie to yourself and pretend like you had genuine friends here, in Okhema— but at the end of the day, Mydei was all you had left. there was no one else. he wasn’t your home, but he was the only one who managed to stomp out the loneliness from your heart. you hated each other to the bone, and yet you still held your bodies on that cold floor, surrounded by nothing but muffled sobbing.

you were not violent. you were kindhearted, and warm, and you never would’ve thought of doing such things, however now all of it seemed repressed somewhere else. Mydei — no, perhaps entirety of the holy city — caused your breath to stop. you wished to view him in repulsion, but for gods’ sake, you knew you could not. once the summer sun will extinguish your being, up until the last cloud of smoke, you’ll be thinking of him. the soulmate mark stretching from your knuckles to wrist hurt. a pulsating kind of pain, reminding you it was still there, and you couldn’t forsake it.

"i’m so sorry…" you choked out, pressing your face into his shoulder.

"don’t be."

"i— i never meant to harm you, i just—"

"i know."

your hands gripped Mydei’s clothes, the blood from your cut already seeping over his previously clean attire and body. he didn’t seem to care, stroking fingers through your hair in attempt of showing any semblance of comfort (could he ever offer it?). you searched for something meaningful to say, but your thoughts narrowed to only one thing.

it was your favorite cup.

you chewed on the piece of meat with a twisted expression, the scar still visible between your fingers and the palm. sometimes it would itch, making it utterly irritating. the sounds of the swords clashing outside seemed to quiet down, now replaced by idle chatter. you were almost finished with your meal, and the time on the clock was indicating near evening. the day was coming to an end.

just like the food in your mouth, tasting rotten even though it looked completely fine, by the third year of your stay in Okhema things suddenly simmered down (wreck of your mind remained). the storm was no longer, thunders and lightning turning into whirlwind — still unpredictable and very much able to cause harm, but a bit more subtle. leading a war for three years straight would humble everyone, even the most capable warriors. for that, you were grateful.

the scorching sun no longer bothered you, and with enough savings you managed to buy yourself a place somewhere further from your surgery. now you didn’t have to reside in the small space, sleeping on medical bed and pretending like being caged there was no problem for you. this change brought you a certain peace of heart, as you regained at least a small piece of your independence.

as for you and Mydei — you still continued with your usual routine, although a bit less fierce. even though you never touched upon the topic, it seemed as if you shared a collective agreement that snapping your teeth at each other’s gullets brought you no good. it never did, but it took you both three years to realize.

now as you stuffed your mouth with some more vegetables, you wondered if Mydei possessed any redeeming qualities. if he didn’t, then you surely would have lost your mind a long time ago. after a short while of brooding, you came up with a verdict — he did. after that incident, it seemed like you started to notice more things. it’s not like you didn’t before, but perhaps you were buried too deep within your own sorrow to actually pay attention. the man wasn’t always awful. there were certain moments when you found common ground, and actually got along. though rare, the soultie progressed, and you felt as if some kind of understanding between you two formed.

after all, he was your soulmate, wasn’t he?

you sat down on the ridge of a big fountain, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. the weather was nice for a change, skies colored with a mesmerizing hue of yellow as the rain stopped pouring a few minutes ago. your clothes were soaked, but that didn’t matter, the cool on your body soothing you. you had a hard time at work today, so you wished for nothing more but a moment of rest — alas, it seemed like the universe wanted to mock you some more.

"look who we have here." a booming voice came from your right making you jump up, even though you were all-too-well accustomed to its sound. "what, don’t tell me you got caught up in the rain?"

"Mydei, give me a break…" you groaned, rubbing at your temples. he was the reason why you had to sweat so much today, and the mere sight of his face already made your blood pressure skyrocket. "are you aware you’re the reason why so many people came to me today?"

from what you’ve gathered, some fools decided it would be a great idea to spar with the Kremnoan prince. nobody wanted to admit to being the originator of the concept, though Phainon appeared especially nervous. you decided against pressuring him into speaking, as he was already injured enough. while you tended to the wounds, sewing the broken skin and putting gauzes to them, everyone kept murmuring one word: 'Mydeimos.' yes, that definitely made sense.

"it’s their fault for being overly-confident." he huffed, sitting down beside you, his eyes fixated on two birds jumping cheerily in a puddle. "if you’re not at least slightly afraid of your opponent, of course you’ll underestimate them, and fail. a pathetic mistake."

"well," you began, stretching out your legs as you captured his expression from the corner of your eye, "i’m not afraid of you at all. does that make me pathetic?"

even though your words sounded a bit exaggerated, it was the truth. throughout all of your fallouts and vicious arguments with Mydei, there was never a time where you were genuinely scared. maybe of yourself — but not of him. over the time you have learned to trust your gut, and right now it was telling you that your soulmate wasn’t a threat. yes, he throughly enjoyed making your existence filled with various anxieties and hardships, but did he ever rise a hand at you? you tried to literally slit his throat, and yet he didn’t even look offended, meanwhile most people would have strangled you unconscious.

his eyebrows rose slightly as he turned his face towards you. "is that so?” he didn’t seem to believe you, doubt arising in the honeyed irises.

"yeah," a humorless, dry chuckle escaped your lips as you studied the look he carried with great attention, "the sun will go out before i’m truly afraid of you. i have no reason to, anyway."

perhaps you should have reasons, because one of Mydei’s glares was enough to render someone unmoving. you watched him fight before, and the enemies seemed to be nothing but mere rag-dolls to him. a mentally-sound person would be trembling in respect before him — unfortunately for you, you were far from that, hence why you had to put up with all of the shouting and arguments.

"how can you be so sure, [name]?" Mydei mocked, but his comment lacked in real bite. it fell as something lighthearted on your ears, urging you to continue.

"if you really wanted to harm me, i’d be beheaded by the time i first threw a plate at you." that evoked a poorly contained snicker from him, and you couldn’t help but smile along. "and you’re… you’re not a bad person, Mydei— at least i don’t think so. bad people don’t play with children, nor do they bake pastries in their free time."

Mydei looked at you as if you just offended his whole lineage, way too dumbfounded to respond. you shook your head, an involuntary huff of laughter slipping past your lips as you took in his baffled expression. "you thought i wouldn’t notice?"

"well— well, obviously—" he forced the words out, struggling to compose a proper sentence, utterly embarrassed. "Phainon must have told you, right? he must have. oh, when i get my hands on that little—"

Phainon didn’t tell you anything. it’s just that after three years of knowing someone, people usually become aware of such things. you vividly remember Mydei playing hide and seek with a group of Kremnoan children, even if a little begrudgingly. it was one year ago, and Krateros asked you to relay some informations upon him. you can’t quite recall what it was, but you remember it being grim — normally you wouldn’t care, but it somehow made you feel somber. you didn’t want to ruin Mydei’s moment of peace, so you simply stood behind a pillar, watching the man count down as kids ran around trying to find the best hiding spot. after a while you departed, thinking it would be best to tell him later.

the other thing — precisely speaking, his baking hobby — you discovered by accident. after a long working day, you spotted Castorice and Tribbie eating something. you didn’t mean to stare, but they eventually noticed your longing gaze and invited you to sit with them. it was rare for you to share a meal with anyone, so you gratefully accepted one of the profiteroles. it was delicious, and the girls giggled at the way your eyes lit up. Tribbie explained those were a gift from 'De', as they liked to affectionately call him. you were surprised to hear that, and even thought about using that as a leverage in one of your many arguments, but eventually abandoned the idea. it wasn’t a bad activity. actually, you found it quite endearing, as far as your positive feelings towards Mydei could go.

you sighed, looking up at the yellow sky as you pleaded the gods for more patience - then, you focused back on the man. "Phainon didn’t tell me, and i don’t perceive any of those things as something you should be ashamed of. they’re good qualities. at least i know you still have a heart, Mydeimos." you grumbled, rolling your eyes.

his features seemed to relax a bit, as if the cause of his stress was based solely on your opinion. "well, aren’t you the sweetest." he murmured, a bit dryly.

you hummed in response, watching Mydei suddenly turn his face away from you, his expression obscured by the blonde locks. before you could say anything else, he pulled himself up, and started to walk away. for a second, you contemplated whether you should call after him, but decided to keep your mouth shut. it was rare for you both to share a conversation so civilized, without any crude remarks or insults. you didn’t want to ruin it for yourself, so you watched his silhouette slowly fade into the crowd of people.

and that was it. sometimes, you’d pace around your room and wonder whether you held any love for him. somewhere, in the deepest corners of your soul, the answer perhaps lied. you would have to dissect your body over and over again, searching for it, until you’d finally find the core — oozing with the venom of a rattlesnake, covered in wildflower petals. being in love, what does it feel like? were you even capable of it?

your scorched mind couldn’t grasp the concept, so you decided to leave it unanswered. even though you yearned for it — even if you wanted to catch it like a butterfly, gently nursing against the palms of your hands. contradictions are an inevitable part of the human nature. soulmates were a curse of sorts, and nowadays it seemed as if you were close to giving in. remaining hellbent took a toll on you, and the line between "surrender" and "acceptance" started to blur. still, you would never forget the torment he brought upon you. Mydei won’t forsake the thousands of your spiteful actions either, their ever-presence hovering just a few steps behind.

in a metaphorical sense, it seemed as if you both were constantly throwing up on each other. reduced from humans to mere specimens, created only to claw at one another’s throats, and then crawl back into the warm embrace as the bloody wounds made your bodies shake with cries. nothing less, nothing more.

the fork in your hand scraped against the ceramic material, forming an unpleasant sound. there was nothing left on your plate. the disgusting dinner gone, replaced with smudges of sauce and vegetable scrapes. you frowned when you suddenly heard the knocking on your door, characteristic enough for you to recognize who was standing behind them. you placed the dish onto your desk, sitting back on the bed. usually you’d be stomping to the door, ready for another clash, vicious words already on your tongue. however, now all of your bared teeth was gone. nothing made sense, and you were worn.

"come in." you called, smoothing out your attire from any wrinkles.

the door opened slowly, and a second later you were already facing Mydei. you sent him a questioning look, taking notice of his slightly slumped form. did he injure himself while sparing? no, that wasn’t possible. you observed him carefully, waiting, trying to deduce what the issue was. maybe those annoying pains were getting to him again.

"i was looking for you." he announced, his tone depraved of any kind of ire he’d still sometimes grace you with.

"you know i’m usually at my place during evening hours." you replied, your eyebrows narrowing together. "did something happen?"

"no." Mydei sighed, taking a few steps forwards. "i just wanted to see you, [name]."

you sent him a chary smile, noting the unabashed tone of his voice. honestly, it took you by surprise, but somehow you understood what he meant. it was always like that — you wished to never talk to him again, yet you felt as if you were conjoined.

(grief-stricken people seek resolve, as they have nothing — and once it’s caught by their fangs, they won’t let go, no matter how much pain it brings in its wake).

Mydei’s expression was a little absent, stripped from the usual high-awareness. "you seem tired." a soft mutter left your lips as you gently grabbed his fingers and tugged towards you, wondering whether he was getting enough sleep.

"maybe a bit." he admitted, kneeling by the side of your bed and wrapping his arms around your waist. you let him without any hesitation, watching as he put his head on your lap.

moments of intimacy were not a part of your everyday life, however there were times when one of you would unravel and lean on the other person. humans needed connection. they needed touch, warmth, affection. those were things you’d never use to describe the relationship with your soulmate, yet you couldn’t resist the sparse comfort when offered.

Mydeimos was much nicer to you in your head. your conversations didn’t usually go as planned. sometimes, when you felt the side of his face press into your neck as you let your healing energy flow through his spine, you dwelled on things he harbored within his heart. after you were done, he’d retract his body away from yours and send you a fleeting glance, filled with grudges and dismay. you’d scowl back, thinking how nice it would be to never see him again.

you ran your fingers through his golden locks, feeling at how soft they were in contrast to their owner. whenever the man got tired — genuinely tired — he’d always become so docile. the rise and fall of his chest was meek, and you would’ve thought he wasn’t breathing at all if you didn’t look closer. the same hands that ripped his enemies apart were now cradling you, as if your body was made out of glass. all the hatred and rage was gone, replaced by silent agreement to let this moment last before you’d be back to spitting at each other.

Mydei never opened up to you. you didn’t know what he went through in the past — all the horrors and trauma shaping him into who he was now. it must have taken a lot of effort to stay gentle, at least in a certain way, hidden away from the eyes of others. you leaned down, watching his relaxed face as you trailed over the tear-shaped tattoo with your intent gaze. when you felt Mydei press himself further into your lap, one conclusion appeared clearer than anything you managed to deduce throughout those three years of bloodborne struggles.

no matter what, all wolves dream of being a dog.

[noemilivv]

Can I please request a Lucifer, Vox and Adam x GN! Reader where Lucifer, Vox, Adam becomes a nervous wreck trying to propose to Reader and even at there wedding day as they get themselves ready to step out of there dressing room and do there bows and all :3

what the flip this actually had me getting giddy reading this OFC I WILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU !!

a/n: i’m just doing proposal and wedding hcs so i hope that’s okay!! but they will contain bits of them getting all nervous so dw :)

a/n #2: THIS WAS ACTUALLY SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!

Warnings: Swearing, potential S1 spoilers(?), mentions of sex (no smut)

Adam Proposal + Wedding Headcanons

Adam didn’t understand why he was so nervous to propose, he’s ADAM, he’s the fucking man, he’s the OG DICK. Who could say no to him?

Uh.. actually… you could, technically. And he is — believe it or not — sorta scared out of his fucking mind for that outcome, considering he spent all his time with you, he wasn’t sure what his life would turn to if it didn’t go smoothly, but bitch is a risk taker, so ya boi fuckin’ went for it

Adam, with little-no ideas, went super basic, it was the only way he really knew how, he took you out to a fancy restaurant with fancy ass clothes, as a ‘business meeting’

After waiting over and over for the right moment, he realized he was almost out of time, so he popped down onto one knee

“Look, I don’t really understand this whole… proposal bullshit.” Adam started, fidgeting with the ring box in his hand nervously — whilst trying to maintain his cool,

“But I’m gonna do it, cause I’m the fucking man!” He said as he began to regain his confidence, “So, babe, would you make me the happiest man in Heaven and become the fucking one?” He said, pushing out the ring box, with a nervous but genuine toothy grin.

You said yes! Pffft, he called it! He called it.. heh..

He’s actually a lot more invested in wedding planning then you might think!

Just the reception though, the ceremony is ‘boring as fuck’

He will get slightly emotional during the ceremony, not tears or anything, but for one of the first (and realistically last) times, he has a gentle but proud smile on his face as you walk down the isle and you two do your vows.

THEN, that completely changed at the reception, bro goes batshit crazy. He definitely planned to have some bomb ass music and he is either chugging a shot or dancing his fucking heart out to the music.

Whenever talking to people at the reception, he will sit there and shove his wedding band in their fucking face as if they didn’t just watch you get married.

And then you guys go to your honeymoon basically immediately, and once you two get your ass into your hotel, you’re fucking.

That aside though, Lute was Adam’s best man, no questions asked. 😛

Lucifer Proposal + Wedding

Headcanons

Lucifer hasn’t had to do this since Lilith, which has its pros and cons.

He’s a little more experienced than the other two, due to the fact that he’s obviously proposed before.

He’s less nervous because of this, but that doesn’t mean he just doesn’t care, cause he really wants this to be special for you, he just doesn’t want you to regret it — whatever your response may be.

He bought a ring for you way before he actually proposed, and he always kept it with him, because he never knew when the right moment would strike

And it came when he least expected it…

It was around 3am, and there was hardly anyone out on the streets, surprisingly, you two were taking a nightly stroll, and you had laughed at something he said, and you just looked so beautiful in the Hellish night sky, he knew, right then and there, you were the one.

You continued to stroll down the street in the bloody red, before realizing Lucifer’s absence from your side, you turn around to see the blonde angel on one knee, with a soft smile and tears pricking in his eyes.

“Y’know, I wasn’t too sure about love after what happened with Lilith..” He started, letting out a small sigh to contain himself before continuing, “And, somehow, someway, you came into my life at the best possible time.” He said, taking a pause, trying to regulate his emotions.

“You found me at my worst, and turned me into my best, and my God, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Lucifer said, combing over some of his blonde locks to the side, as tears continued to well up in his eyes.

“Sweetie, you make me so happy, and you love me, silliness and flaws and all, so my love, would you please do me the honor and allow me to be your husband?”

Yes, he got you duck themed wedding rings. Because why would he not?

He’s very insistent on helping with the wedding planning, you’ve done so much for him, so he wants you to be able to sit back and relax and just be able to enjoy the wedding.

And then he crashes and burns, as he realizes, he doesn’t fucking know how to plan a wedding… So you guys split it half-and-half.

He really wants a winter wedding. On Valentine’s Day. With Valentines colors. Please let him have it. He’s so baby, he really wants it.

During the ceremony, he definitely cries. Not too hard core though, a couple tears and sniffles with a proud, dopey smile across his face.

The reception is a more lowkey version of Adam’s, there’s music and shit, but it’s not like a madhouse in contrast lmao.

Luci does make a point to talk to almost every guest, especially if their your family, cause he wants to get to know them.

Also, if there are kids at your wedding, especially if their your relatives, he loves them. He will let them climb all over him, he’ll fly them around a bit, he’ll play with them. I love the idea of Luci playing with kids.

You guys don’t have a honeymoon, though, he’d rather stay at home and make ducks.

Oh yeah, next topic to tackle is… how does he tell you he wants kids…? And when…?

Vox Proposal + Wedding

Headcanons

As much as Vox may say, it’s for business, it’s not. He loves you so much.

Vox wants a lowkey proposal, not a lot of people around, just done and out of the way.

He does it while at a VoxTech event, so the two of you are already dressed up incase some paparazzi come and sneak pictures.

Once he has a bit of spare time, he pulls you out into a private hallway or a balcony, and does his thing. And yes, he glitches

Halfway through your conversation with Velvette, you feel a jerk on your arm and as your being dragged off Velvette gives you two big thumbs up with a toothy grin, while mouthing ‘Goodluck!’ like bitch, the fuck? Good luck for what??

You’re pulled out into the hallway, and shoved into the outside balcony area, you turn after you get your focus back, which is immediately taken away after you see Vox on one knee.

“Dear, zzh— we’ve been through a lot together, ssz— and szzz!- Honestly, it’s not like I even care, szzzz- but, maybe, you’d consider, szz- marrying me?” Vox makes an attempt to proudly hold the ring box to you as he just embarrassed himself, he gives a nervous, toothy, talk show host grin.

Yeah.. Just for business. mhm.

A lot of people are invited to your wedding, it’s fucking Vox, he knows people.

Neither of you plan the wedding, per say, Vox just gets an employee to do all the tedious stuff for you guys and you two give your input when needed.

During the ceremony, Vox doesn’t get emotional, there’s people here who has business deals with, therefore, the show must go on!

But during the reception, when you both have your first dance as spouses, the world for him… goes quiet.

THAT’S when he gets slightly emotional, he leans into your touch and cannot stop whispering to you about how much he fucking loves you.

The reception is a bit more formal, you both go around and talk to guests as Vox does his little host shit, and makes a few business deals.

You guys have a honeymoon, and it’s expensive as FUCK, that was a little surprise for you, he takes you out to the biggest places in all of Hell, only the best for his newly-wedded spouse~

[pascaloverx]

HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future. If you like this fanfic, please interact, leave comments. This author will be grateful for any interaction.

ONE THREE

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

TWO

You were finally discharged from the hospital after nearly a week of being poked, prodded, and thoroughly examined. However, your husband seemed displeased with the last conversation you shared. He hadn’t returned to visit you, leaving an unsettling emptiness in your chest. Even in your dreams, the striking face of your husband was absent. The fictional priest, your recurring specter, no longer graced you with his haunting visits. Detective Lois came to see you twice. The first time, you welcomed her, but when she began disparaging your husband, you quickly lost interest in continuing the conversation. The second time, you thought it best to turn her away before Dr. Mayhew discovered she had been there.

Now you are packing your clothes to return home—clothes you do not recall buying or ever wearing before. A house that does not feel like a home, for you have no memory of it. Whether you like it or not, Dr. Mayhew is the only semblance of familiarity you have. Yet, he seems to have lost interest in you. He is probably ready to file for divorce and pursue his happily ever after with the detective with whom he may or may not have had an affair.

"Mrs. Mayhew, are you ready to go home?" a strange man asks as he stands in the doorway. He is wearing a suit, and from the formal way he speaks to you, you assume he is not a relative of yours.

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea who you are. Actually, I'm waiting for my husband." You say, holding your suitcase while sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. The man seems to be preparing to say something that will hurt you. "Mrs. Mayhew, I’m your husband's driver. He can’t pick you up; he had an urgent commitment." He says, adjusting his suit, almost as if he’s embarrassed by the news. He seems to feel pity for you. For some reason, the fact that your husband is avoiding you irritates you.

"In that case, let's go." You say, a bit downcast but holding onto your suitcase tightly, trying not to let your anger show. You know there will be a moment when you'll give your husband a lesson—he's the one who deserves to hear your complaints.

"Follow me, I'll take you to the car and we'll head to your house soon," the driver says, raising his arm for you to hold onto as you make your way to the hospital exit. You try to keep up the appearance of being fine, smiling as you say goodbye to the hospital staff while being accompanied by your husband’s driver, Ed. As he drives you home, he starts talking about his life. He tells you how you had recommended him for the job as a personal driver. You learn that you used to give him art lessons and suggested him to your husband. The information leaves you more confused. You have the impression that you were wealthy, given the fancy clothes you wear and the fact that you have a private driver, but it seems you were also teaching art. This leaves you wondering about the life you used to lead in your own home.

When you arrive at the house, it’s almost everything you imagined. It’s large, not a mansion, but it has two floors, a garden, and a pool. Ed helps you out of the car and guides you on where to place your luggage, leading you toward the entrance of the house.

"On the first floor, you’ll find the kitchen, living room, laundry, and a guest bedroom. There’s also a dining room, but it’s only used for special occasions. On the second floor, there’s the master suite and the boss’s office. If you’d like, I can take you there," Ed says politely, though you sense that you need to spend some time getting familiar with your home and you don't want to bother Ed with your demands.

"There’s no need to trouble yourself, Ed. You’re free to go, and thank you for taking the time to pick me up from the hospital," you say graciously.

"It was my pleasure to assist you. If you need anything, I'll be just outside," Ed says before leaving you alone. For a moment, you find yourself captivated, taking in the details of the first floor of your home. As you admire the kitchen, a sudden noise from the upper floor catches your attention.

You freeze, startled by the unexpected noise. You were certain you were alone in the house, but now it seems you might have company. The thought races through your mind—it could be a burglar or perhaps one of your husband's mistresses waiting for his return, especially since you're convinced he's not home. Uncertain of your next move, you consider calling for Ed, but that might alert whoever is upstairs. Resolute, you grab a knife from the kitchen, gripping it tightly as you ascend the stairs, steeling yourself to confront whoever dares to intrude, the sound of water running hinting at someone taking a bath above.

You step into the master suite, your eyes scanning the space. Scattered across the bed are some of your husband's clothes, as though he had been deciding what to wear. Framed photos of the two of you together adorn the room, alongside other items that affirm this as the bedroom of a married couple. However, investigating the nuances of your marital life is not why you climbed the unnecessarily numerous stairs. Silently, you make your way to the bathroom, drawn by the muffled sounds coming from within the shower, mingling with the steady cascade of water. Your heart pounds as you realize—there's definitely a man in there, taking a shower. You grip the knife tightly in your hands and gather your courage to open the shower curtain.

Your husband stands before you, utterly exposed, his body glistening with water and lightly lathered with soap, one hand still gripping his cock mid-motion. "What the hell, Y/N?" Doctor Mayhew exclaims, his voice laced with shock and alarm.

Frozen for a moment, you struggle to process the scene, your grip tightening around the knife in your hand. Heat rises to your face, and without thinking further, you turn on your heel abruptly, your embarrassment overwhelming. "I— I didn’t know it was you," you stammer, your voice shaky as you try to compose yourself, your back still turned to him.

"Did it ever occur to you to ask?" your husband snaps, his voice sharp with irritation. You're unsure if his anger stems from being caught in such a vulnerable state or from having his private moment interrupted.

"It didn’t cross my mind," you retort, doing your best to maintain your composure despite the vivid image of his naked form lingering in your thoughts. "Especially since I assumed a man too busy to fetch his own wife from the hospital wouldn’t be occupied... pleasuring himself in the shower." Your tone is steady, but there's a slight edge to your words, masking your own embarrassment.

"I thought you'd prefer to return with someone you didn't consider a cold-blooded, adulterous murderer," Doctor Mayhew says, his tone laced with dry humor as he continues his shower. "Had I known you cared about my presence, I would have been there. And as for giving myself pleasure, despite the belief that I've had a torrid affair with another woman, my fidelity to you is so absolute that my only mistress is my hand." He chuckles softly, the sound almost mocking, while you remain rooted in place, still stunned and unable to respond or even move.

"If you'd cared enough to visit me after our last meeting, you would have known that I did want you there to bring me home," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. The air grows heavy for a moment, the tension palpable, until the sound of the running water comes to an abrupt stop.

"I was there every day," Doctor Mayhew replies, his tone soft yet steady. "But only while you were asleep. I didn’t want to trouble you. Your doctors told me you were improving, and I thought my presence might upset you." He steps out of the shower, the sound of his movements drawing closer to you. You can feel his breath against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Before you can respond, his arms encircle yours, gently but firmly taking the knife from your grip. He places it on the bathroom counter, the action deliberate yet tender.

You turn, now standing face-to-face with your husband, Doctor Mayhew. A towel is loosely wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still trailing down his skin. "I wanted you there," you murmur, your voice barely audible, the words almost brushing against his lips. His face is dangerously close to yours, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm sorry, mi amor. I should have brought you home," he says, his voice low and full of regret as he steps even closer. Your eyes instinctively fall to his lips before locking onto his gaze. A heat rises within you, an undeniable pull—an ache to claim what is already yours.

And as if driven by instinct, you rise on your toes and press your lips to his in a tentative kiss, barely a whisper of contact, as though testing the waters. The taste of him is intoxicating—something that feels like it should be savored again and again. It’s overwhelming, addictive, his soft lips brushing against yours as your heart seems to stop for a fleeting moment. But caution wins, and you pull back, breath hitching as you study him. His eyes remain closed for a moment longer, his fingers brushing over his lips as though to confirm the reality of what just transpired. Slowly, his eyes open, smoldering with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"You shouldn’t have done that," Doctor Mayhew murmurs, his voice a low growl. Before you can respond, his arms snake around your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he crashes his lips into yours with fervor. The kiss is fire itself—searing and unrelenting, as though he wants to consume you entirely, pulling you closer, desperate for more of you with each passing second.

And it’s as if something ignites within you, a spark that feels as though you’ve always belonged to him. “Charlie…” you murmur between his kisses, your breaths coming in short gasps as you try to steady yourself.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes wide with surprise, though a glimmer of adoration softens his features. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Charlie since you woke up,” he whispers, his voice almost reverent against your lips.

You respond with a tender peck, letting yourself sink into the safety of his arms. “I wish I could remember you. I hope you know that,” you confess, gazing into his eyes. It’s the most honest thing you’ve said since you regained consciousness, and the raw sincerity in your voice hangs between you like a fragile thread of hope.

"I don’t care that you’ve forgotten me. I only want you to allow yourself to get to know me again," Charlie says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

"Do you think having sex would help me remember you?" The question escapes your lips before you can even process it, the desire that’s been simmering since you saw him moments ago suddenly rising to the surface.

Charlie freezes, his lips lingering near your skin as his breath hitches. His gaze locks onto yours, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering in his eyes. "I thought I was the doctor here," Charlie murmurs, a faint smirk curving his lips as his eyes search yours. The teasing tone in his voice doesn’t mask the tension building between you.

He takes a step closer, his hands gently finding your waist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "But if that’s your hypothesis..." his voice drops, low and intoxicating, "I’d be more than willing to help you test it." The heat in his gaze is undeniable, yet there’s a tenderness there, as though he’s waiting for your permission to cross the line you just hinted at.

The sound of a phone ringing breaks the moment, echoing from the direction of the bedroom. Charlie seems momentarily hesitant, glancing toward the source of the noise before he gives in and walks over to answer it. His voice lowers, the words indistinct as he speaks in murmurs, clearly trying to keep the conversation private. You stand there, feeling a shift in the atmosphere as his attention moves elsewhere. When he returns, there's a visible change in his demeanor, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Unfortunately, we can't test your hypothesis right now," he says, his tone a little colder than before. He plants a soft kiss on your lips before continuing, trying to lighten the mood. "I have a patient in need of urgent assistance."

Charlie leans in to give you a quick kiss on the lips, a fleeting gesture to maintain some connection despite the shift in mood. "But you’re welcome to stay here, take a relaxing bath, and explore the house. The only room that’s locked is my office, but the rest is open. You’ve met Ed, our driver. Mary, the housekeeper, is here as well, though you haven’t met her yet. If you’re hungry, all the takeout numbers are by the phone," he says before turning to finish getting ready.

As he finishes getting dressed, you can sense something unspoken hanging in the air between you, his demeanor colder now. "And, if you want to pick up where we left off later... just let me know," he adds, his words lingering in the space between you, leaving the invitation open yet uncertain. He pauses, studying you for a moment longer than necessary before turning to finish his preparations, the unspoken tension between you both hanging in the air.

"I think I'll take a bath and get acquainted with the house, but I'd like to have dinner with you," you say as you watch him finish getting dressed for work, struggling with the knot of his tie. You step forward, as if you're naturally accustomed to this, and expertly tie the knot for him—firm and neat. He smiles, genuinely appreciative.

"It seems like you still remember how to make a perfect tie knot," he comments, then takes your hands in his and presses a gentle kiss to your fingers. "I'll be here for dinner," he assures you before grabbing his briefcase and lab coat, rushing out the door. You're certainly charmed by your husband, but there's a growing sense of unease, too. Why would he be so secretive about his calls and office if he has nothing to hide?

[dysfunctionallygrey]

Do you have any cool Pokemon headcanons???}

ME???

POKEMON HEADCANNONS!???

*explodes*

(sorry for the late reply BTW)

Here are some I don't really see often, and one I consider very interesting and not too thought of:

Pokemon Schooling headcannons!

(For the champions specifically, Under the cut!)

Red

He finished public elementary school and then immediately disappeared for the mountains. Literally living my dream.

What else does he need.

Blue

Continued schooling at a private high-school while being a gym leader, then went to uni in Kalos to be a Pokémon professor.

Lance

Homeschooled from elementary to high school by his dragon clan. Then went to a private prestigious university in Galar (The same one Cynthia and Steven would eventually go to.)

Wallace

(He counts, he's the champion of my heart)

Secular Private school kid, all his life. (like meeee) Probably didn't go to university in favor of Contests, since he blew up in popularity around his mid teens.

Steven

Rich kid, private elementary school, private international school abroad and then abroad again to a uni in Galar. (all non secular)

Cynthia

Her family is rich but not that rich, Public elementary school and then secular private high school. Then obviously abroad in Galar.

Alder!!

I imagine a small schoolhouse for him in Floccessy town, where he schooled for elementary where his mom taught at. I don't think he got any higher schooling than that because I headcannon he went on his Pokémon journey on his teens and kept the title of champion for a long while.

N

(If I'm counting Wallace I'm counting him too)

Homeschooled.

Actually homeschooling is an overstatement. He learned maths, of course. Ghetsis probably found out he was a genius in maths and fed into it because he thought it would be useful for later.

Then how to read and write, some basic words and simple things and then the rest was just blatant propaganda to brainwash N into thinking all Pokémon trainers suck.

Iris!!!

She reeks of homeschooled kid whose spark hasn't been crushed by bullies. A very outdoorsy girl who goes out to play, do her workbooks for an hour and then pop out to play or train even more.

For high-school though I think she'd attend Blueberry academy.

Diantha

I'm not saying she's a nepo baby, but she is a non-secular private school kid who went to Uni in Kalos.

Professor Kukui

Public Elementary school, Public highschool, scholarship to a fancy schmancy private university.

Leon.

Hear me out:

ACE kid.

He became champion really young so he probably didnt go to normal school as a kid, so ACE it was. He was enrolled there, but he never really showed up except if you counted him coming in once a month to get his Paces and pace tests

For the uninformed, Ace is a school system focused on self learning.

They give you a short workbook called a PACE that is essentially a week or twos worth of lessons, a goal chart that you have to set yourself which is basically a little calendar where you write your goal page, usually 3 - 5 pages and then you finish it at the end of the day.

If you are ever done with a goal or page, you go to the scoring station and then score it yourself.

Once you're done, you immediately take a test for all the stuff you learned.

That's basically the gist of it, but Leon would do his Paces in between training sessions, once the week was over, the finished paces and pace tests would go to the teacher to be graded.

Geeta

She went to Naranja/Uva and it kinda strikes me as a good private school with functioning bathrooms so we'll go with that.

Holy fuck that was a lot I hope you and the 5 people enjoyed

[alexanderlightweight]

Hey lumine! I hope all is well and that you're getting over the post-plague funk- I know being sick is the absolute worst.

If you happen to be taking prompts today (and totally cool if not!) I would love to see if you're interested in tangling with a continuation of either the bitter trap of truth or the craft of adoration.

For the first one, I ADORE the way Cat and Ragnor in your last piece were observing Alec so casually giving priceless nephilim intelligence to them while so clearly displaying his trust in Magnus alskjfda;lsdfjasdfadsf. so good and happy and all my favorite things with Alec happily surrendering to Magnus and being his BAMF-y self while doing so and even the utter delight of outside POV!

For the second, if that AU floats your fancy higher, my brain is just utterly stuck on that line where Magnus asks Alec to come to him at dawn because he wants his people to see Alec coming to his call, coming to heel if you will. I would be drowning in glee (to continue the watery metaphors) to see how your wonderful imagination would envision that scene occurring and what Magnus (and Magnus' people!) would think of Alec acquiescing to Magnus' request.

Hope you feel better!

the prompts themselves are compliments and incredible sweet s thank you Laws!

I realize it was a different day that this was sent but I dont remember which day and tbh, today is a good day! Mostly over the cold and my leg is finally aching less enough to think.

no outsider pov in this one, but a bit more of cat and ragnor and the magnificent team immortal because i love them and they need to be more heavily involved in this fic for a variety of reasons.

need to take @saryn-prime to a health appointment and then i'll be back to settle in and write more.

i ened up really feeling the bitter trap of truth today and its been on my mind for days and my fingers have been aching to write it. hope you enjoy and are doing well!

<3 lumine

-

It’s past noon when Magnus’ wards flare and he leaves Alexander where he is, splayed out across the bed and face burrowed into a pillow. It’s been enough time that Catarina and Ragnor’s visit can only mean one thing.

Magnus will finally have his answer.

If he was wise to trust Alexander or if his boy has so easily betrayed him.

Alexander won’t face punishment from the warlocks.

Even if he’s played them, it’s one of his own people who have died and Magnus already knows that the Clave won’t punish him for it. If anything, they’ll reward him for ensuring that

But Magnus’ heart will still ache at being tricked.

Neither of his dear companions are in his apothecary, instead they are practically relaxed. Well, as relaxed as they can be when exhaustion haunts their visage. Catarina is splayed out on the sofa and Ragnor has nearly melted into his favorite armchair, pipe puffing peacefully away as Catarina summons three drinks.

“A toast!” She offers and her soft smile nearly breaks Magnus.

She wouldn’t be smiling or toasting if she brought ill news.

“It worked?” He asks, even thought he knows it has to have. But years of agonizing betrayal make him ask, he has to know.

“It’s as if she were never ill.” Catarina confirms and her eyes gleam with mocking humor. “I’ve never seen someone so mortified and furious to be saved.”

“It should also be noted that she’s of a much lower rank than your shadowhunter.” Ragnor gives a quiet sigh and blows out a ring of smoke. “I rather doubt she even knew what the poison would do beyond killing her and striking a blow to the downworld. She seemed utterly shocked that we managed to find an antidote.”

“Did you tell them how we managed?”

“And risk them finding even more obscure poisons?” Cat laughs and shakes her head. “No, let them think I somehow found an antidote. If they knew the treasure trove of willing information your boy is, well…”

She trails off with an apologetic shrug and Magnus just nods. Cat’s not wrong. If anything, she’s being generous with how delicate she’s being. It also means that Magnus is going to have to be very careful with who he shares information about Alec with.

The Council would no doubt want to interrogate him for all the answers he would be able to give, but Magnus would rather play the long game. Alexander is unique, in more ways than one and while he doubts that his hunter would dare lie before the Elders, he also doesn’t want more attention drawn to him.

Not before Magnus is completely sure.

Magnus’ heart has been wounded too many times for this one action to convince him, but it has done what he hoped.

Catarina and Ragnor are both now willing to give Alexander a chance, a real chance and that is worth more to Magnus than anything else.

— Alec is beginning to think that he’s never going to wake up with Magnus wrapped around him, or wrapped around Magnus. Every time he thinks he’s going to be able to enjoy sunlight and warm, bare skin and golden eyes, something comes up.

Alec is almost ready to just haul Magnus back to bed, but he doesn’t think they’re quite there yet.

It’s with careful consideration that he bites his lip hard enough to bleed. Instantly, the nearly scalding feeling of Magnus’ blood working through his veins lights up. He enjoy it for a few seconds as it heals the damage and then its gone… and no Magnus appears after it.

Alec follows the tug of his bond with Magnus, teeth playing with his lip — which burns in admonishment — and finds himself holding back a soft chuckle. Magnus’ friend Ragnor — someone who Alec knows is a highly revered potion master — is asleep in an armchair. He’s blowing smoke rings as he snores and Magnus and Catarina — who Alec knows is an incredibly talented and powerful healer — are splayed out together on the couch.

Magnus appears to be trying to give her a foot massage, but she’s asleep and his eyes are slipping shut, head nodding forward.

Alec huffs another silent breath of laughter and — with all the skill that he was once taught in order to be a better killer — collects several of Magnus’ extravagant throws.

Because Alec is nothing if not petty, he very carefully lays the cabbage green monstrosity of a tartan throw on Ragnor. Careful not to get close enough that the warlock wakes and thinks it an attack and then settles the large umber blanket over Catarina and Magnus both.

While he’s careful not to touch either of Magnus’ friends, he can’t help but settle a pillow under Magnus head and smooths the hair falling into his eyes away.

It’s a gentle, whisper of a kiss that he presses to Magnus’ hair and then he grabs the book he’d left on the table the night before.

As he settles on the floor next to Magnus, resting his head on Magnus’ leg and being careful to stay out of range of Catarina — he doesn’t know her after all — a glimpse of movement catches his attention.

Ragnor’s eyes meet his and Alec just nods, simple and acknowledging and then he opens the book he grabbed and settles in. If Magnus didn’t want him around his friends when they’re vulnerable then the magic of the loft wouldn’t have let him in.

The blankets probably aren’t necessary, but Alec is Magnus’ husband now. And while Alec is still figuring out his new position in life he does know how to take care of people. Mostly his soldiers and his siblings but still, if he softens his touch a bit, he’s sure he’ll manage just find at taking care of Magnus and his friends.

If this — being allowed in the same room as three vulnerable warlocks — is another sign that Magnus is trusting him, well then Alec is going to take full advantage of it.

While also not giving Magnus any reason to doubt him.

[something-tofightfor]

On Deck Part 3: Ducks on the Pond

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Female Reader Baseball AU

Word Count: 7,433

Rating: NSFW - smut, language, feelings (maybe. just a little)

Summary: Having Jack in your house is more than a little overwhelming - but when you realize that it's what he really wants, everything changes.

Author’s notes: 

This chapter was a hell of a lot of tun to write. Trying to strike a balance between what I know happens and what is happening here was a struggle; hopefully you enjoy.

(On Deck universe masterlist for all the extras!)

While there are a lot of baseball references within this story, you only need to know the basics to enjoy it and understand what's going on - we're not getting overly technical here.

As always, if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out.

“Ducks on the Pond” is another term used to describe runners in scoring position. To be considered “in” this position, a player must be on either second or third base due to previous play action. When this happens, any batted ball that results in a hit is likely to score one - or more - of the runners. These players are ready and waiting for the current batter’s action.

He parked in the driveway next to your car, turning his head to look through the window and at you. Did I actually invite him back to my place? Jack waited to get out until you were standing in the driveway, motioning for him to follow. I did. Shit.

There was no other way to describe it: you were nervous. But you were also excited - and you hoped that that emotion was the one that would win out. I didn’t think it would get to this point. I never really believed I’d get the chance to have him here.

He was quiet as he entered your house, but by the time you’d set your bag and keys on the counter, Jack was talking again - and you liked the way that the sound of his voice filled your home. “I like this place.” He’d stopped to take his shoes off by the door, glancing up as he undid the laces. “Smells nice.” He straightened up, looking around at your front hall and into the living room. “It’s real lived in.” 

“I moved in when my uncle offered me my job.” You crossed your arms over your chest, stepping back toward him. “I don’t … plan on staying here forever, but it’s worked out for me so far.” Shrugging, you gestured with one hand. “It’s just me, so it’s all I need. I’m sure it’s smaller than yours, though.”

“I actually just have a condo here.” He sniffed, reaching up to scratch the side of his neck. “It’s nice, but it’s nothin’ fancy. Not real big either. My place back in Texas?” Jack groaned. “That’s home. And it’s a hell of a lot bigger.” You’d seen the pictures he posted online - nothing seriously revealing, but still enough to give you an idea of what his houses looked like.  “And I’ve been livin’ out of a hotel while I rehab, so this is much bigger.” He winked. “You gonna give me the grand tour?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, I… come on.” You gestured for him to follow you, wincing as soon as you turned your back. Of course he doesn’t want to stand around and talk. He came here for a reason. No matter how much fun you had with him that day, Jack’s interest in you was likely purely physical. He’s not here to be a friend. “Bathroom’s right here.” You pointed, clearing your throat. “And my bedroom’s -”

Jack said your name, the sound of it freezing you in place. As he spoke, asking you to turn around, you felt his hand on your back before it slid over to your hip and was joined by his other one on the opposite side of your body. What is… He waited until you were facing him again to continue, his tone softening. “Are you nervous?”

“A little.” There was no point in lying to him, and you figured things would go smoothly as long as you were on the same page to start. “I’m not … this isn’t something I do often, and especially not with someone I just met.” 

“Can I make it a whole lot easier for you?” He stepped closer, his hands still on your hips. “No pressure. I didn’t come back here with you because I expect anything, even though it was implied.” He smirked at you, but the expression wasn’t unkind. “I would like to kiss you again, though. And since we’ve already gotten the first one out of the way, I figure the second will -”

You moved quickly, leaning in and tilting your head - and when you met Jack’s lips with yours, some of your nerves dissipated. His hold on you tightened, Jack groaning - but then he pulled away, his eyes wide. He looks shocked. Should I not have … oh, no. “Jack?”

“Didn’t seem too nervous there.” He winked again, straightening his shoulders. “Good. That’s real good.” You agreed, your eyes flicking over to the side and then back to him, your smile growing. “Do you want to keep going and show me that bedroom, or go back to -”

“I’ll show you the bedroom.” You bit the inside of your lip, eyes locked with his. “We’re already pretty close.” He laughed quietly, his fingertips brushing against yours when you turned away and started walking down the hall. “It’s a little messy, so -”

“You should see mine.” He entered behind you, Jack’s voice low. “I hate puttin’ clothes away, so I always have two baskets: one clean, one dirty.” You huffed out a laugh, scanning the room for anything embarrassing while Jack kept going. “And my underwear drawer? Pfft. Nothin’s folded. Socks either.”

“I figured you’d have someone doing your laundry for you. Maybe a housekeeper.” You leaned against your dresser, crossing your arms and watching as Jack took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Your schedule has to be really busy, and I’m sure the last thing you want to do is clean your kitchen or the bathroom or -”

“I do have a housekeeper.” Jack winced. “But she doesn’t touch my bedroom or my laundry.” Interesting. “You got me pegged, huh?” 

“It was just a guess.” You uncrossed your arms and pushed forward, heading for where he sat. “But… yeah, maybe I do.” He smiled at you, the expression genuine and reaching his eyes. “And Jack?” He hummed, waiting. “Laundry sucks, so I can’t say shit about the two baskets thing.” 

Jack’s laugh filled your room, and before you realized it was happening, he reached out for you and hauled you into the bed with him, both of you rolling onto the mattress. You braced yourself with both hands, ending up on your back. When you felt Jack’s weight atop you, you gasped, the sudden realization that Jack Daniels was in your bed flooring you. 

“You alright?” You nodded, staring up at him. “Good.” His eyes moved over your face, Jack’s smile locked in place. “I made you a promise at that park, an’ I think it’s time you let me follow through.” 

“I do too.” Swallowing, you cautiously reached up, putting your hand on his shoulder. “If you can.” He rolled his eyes before taking a breath, and then Jack was closing the distance between the two of you. Why am I challenging him? I already know he’s going to live up to it.

Your heart thumped in your chest, the beat slightly erratic. When his mouth met yours, your lips were already parted, giving him the perfect opening. He took it, the tip of his tongue poking out to meet the fullest part of your lower lip - and at that feeling, it was you that reacted, your hold on him tightening. 

And you moaned when he pushed it between them, your mouth opening wider to accommodate Jack’s. His response was to deepen the kiss further, his tongue stroking along the edge of yours, one slow drag after another. He was right. There’s nothing disappointing about this. 

You raised your hand from his shoulder to the back of his head, but when you pushed your fingers into the silky strands of his hair and pulled, he broke away, backing off with a grunt. “That’s what you like?” I mean… yeah. “Me too.” 

“Jack, you -” You didn’t get to finish the sentence before he was kissing you again, that one slightly messier and nowhere near as deep. It was followed by a series of shorter ones, each of them purposeful. 

In all of the fantasies you’d had about Jack, none of them included the fact that he liked to make out. You’d assumed that he would have just gone for it, uninterested in foreplay and wanting to get right to the main event. But I’ve never been happier to be wrong. 

You combed through his hair again when he moved his lips from your mouth to your cheek and then down over your jaw, his mustache dragging over the thin skin it met. And you angled your head so that he could move even lower, Jack’s mouth trailing down the column of your neck until it reached your shoulder. He paused there, sucking gently, but you didn’t even attempt to speak until your felt his tongue moving over the same area, leaving a damp trail in its wake. Before this gets too far, I need to … 

“Jack, wait.” You pushed him away, and he let you - propping himself up on his good arm and giving you a chance to collect your thoughts. “I don’t want to get carried away. Do you have…” You trailed off when you felt his fingertips moving along the inside of your forearm, though this eyes remained on your face. Unfair. This is unfair, he … “Do you have a condom? Because -”

“I do.” He nodded, his expression serious. “Not specifically for today, though. I just carry ‘em with me.” That didn’t surprise you - but his next words did. “And if we’re gonna do this, I’ve got a couple rules.” Oh. Rules? What … “No pictures or video. You left your bag in the other room, so I’m not worried about that.” You nodded, deciding to wait before you replied. “Anything that can be seen when I’m in my jersey … you can’t make marks there - nothin’ from your mouth or your hands.” That made sense to you, too, and you nodded again. “I’m not gonna stay over.” He looked apologetic at that revelation, Jack licking at his lower lip briefly and then giving you a tight smile. “That’s just for tonight though, it’s not a general rule. It’s because I’ve gotta be up early tomorrow to go to the stadium, and then I’m drivin’ back before the game, so I need time to pack.” 

“OK.” Your voice was quiet, heart still beating wildly. So it means he stays sometimes. Just not this time. “OK to all of those. What -” 

“And one more thing.” Something else? “I’m gonna need you to keep pullin’ on my hair as much as you want to, darlin’, because I like that a hell of a lot.” Good. I like it a hell of a lot, too. 

That made you laugh, but it was a short sound as you leaned in closer, nodding your agreement. “You got it, Jack.” Slipping your fingers back into his hair, you pulled on the strands, which earned you another low groan from him. You liked the sound - maybe a little too much. Detouring from another kiss, you turned your head to the side and craned your neck so that you could speak into his ear. “Take off your shirt.” 

He froze at the sound of your voice, but it only took seconds for him to push his weight off of you, Jack sitting up on the edge of your bed and taking a long breath. “You gonna do the same?” He tilted his chin down, the smile creeping back across his lips. “Now’s a good time.” 

You sat up, too, but you didn’t move your hands. 

Instead, you waited to watch as Jack used his left one to grip the bottom hem of his t-shirt before pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. Holy shit, I’ve never seen anyone do that in real life before. “Jesus, Jack. That …” He grinned and then stood up, giving you the opportunity to stare as he positioned himself in front of you. 

He was gorgeous  - even more so than you’d imagined he would be. You let your eyes roam from where his jeans sat low on his waist, up and over the slight curve of his belly. Jack put both hands on his hips, which made his muscles flex again. As your eyes continued their journey upward, you bit down on your lower lip. “You see anything you like?”

“You know I do.” Humming as you eyed his broad, freckled chest, you shook your head slowly. “Can’t believe they make you cover all this up with a uniform every night.” 

“I try to show a little skin.” He shrugged. “Always keep a couple buttons undone.” That made you laugh again, and when you realized that Jack was the type to joke in the bedroom, you shivered. I’m going to enjoy this. “I think it’s your turn to do the same.” He was right. You’d stalled slightly, enthralled by the sight of him. But in order to actually take the night further, you’d need to remove your clothing, too. 

“I can do that.” You didn’t stay seated, though. Standing in front of him, you also pulled your shirt over your head, letting it drop beside your feet. He reached out, both of his hands sliding over your sides, and at the first contact of his palms to your bare skin, you gasped. “Jack, y-” You didn’t get to finish. He urged you closer, hands moving over your body so that one could settle against your lower back, the other traveling up to stop between your shoulders. 

Both of yours found their way to his stomach, your fingers curling inward. “I forgot somethin’.” He spoke quietly, tilting his head so that he could kiss your cheek. His facial hair tickled your skin with each word, Jack continuing to speak the closer he got to your mouth. “Probably don’t need to say it, but my shoulder’s still not at 100%, so we also need to be careful with that.” 

“Of course.” You agreed, and your hand slid lower, fingers catching the button of his jeans. “The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you right before you’re set to come back.” You popped the button and then moved your hand to the zipper. As you undid it, he dragged the edges of his nails across your skin. It made your back arch and pushed your chest against his, which is what Jack seemed to be waiting for. 

Things moved quickly from there, both of you impatient to rid each other of your remaining clothing. 

You undid the zipper while Jack unhooked your bra, both of his large hands sliding apart so that the could grab the straps. By the time you were pushing his jeans down and over his hips, he’d eased the material over your shoulders so that it dropped down your arms, the elastic catching on the crook of your elbow.

Being so exposed in front of Jack after such a short time should have scared you. It should have worried you, especially after the other women he’d likely been with throughout the years… but it didn’t. Instead, his touch thrilled you, and when he stepped out of his jeans and kicked them to the side, you opened your mouth to tell him - and were cut off with a searing kiss. 

He wasted no time, mouth locked against yours, his lips parted and the tip of his tongue prodding against the seam of your lips and waiting for you to give him access. Oh, Jack. It didn’t matter to you that what was going on was likely a one time thing, It didn’t matter that within a few hours, he’d be dressed and gone. 

Because for the time being, he was there, with you. He was in your bedroom, with his hands and mouth on you - and yours were on him. And he started this. The kiss continued, Jack deepening it as his fingers curved around the back of your neck, keeping you close. 

You broke away with a gasp, letting out a shuddering breath. I need to focus for a second. Jack’s eyes were wide, but before he could question you, you reached down and undid your only remaining button. Here goes nothing. You glanced down to watch as your pants followed the same path his had taken, sliding down your legs before you could step out of them. You caught a glimpse of him then, the material of the trunks he wore straining to contain a sizeable bulge. Ok. That looks … 

Almost as though he could tell exactly where you were looking, Jack reached up with one hand to adjust himself. At the sight of his hand against the dark material, fingers curled around himself, you sighed, licking your lips. I want to know how he tastes. “Can I -”

“No.” Jack cleared his throat and then said your name, waiting until you were looking up at him again to say anything else. No? What did I - “We don’t know each other well enough for that yet.” Yet? Does that mean he wants to know me better? “Hey.” He used one finger to tip your chin upward, his mouth lifting in a smirk. “That’s my own rule, but that doesn’t mean it applies to you too.” The tip of his tongue flashed between his lips, his eyes locked on yours. “I’d like nothin’ more than to -”

“No.” You backed away, your own smile growing. If I can’t go there, neither can you. “We should play by the same rules. Make it fair.” He looked surprised at that, both eyebrows shooting up, but Jack didn’t question it. Instead, he bent over and reached into his jeans pocket for his wallet. 

Flipping it open, he pulled a condom free and then turned away from you, setting it - and the billfold - down onto the tabletop next to your bed. You used the opportunity to stare at his back and the way his muscles flexed with each movement, his skin smooth. 

There was a smattering of freckles over his shoulders that you knew you’d think about each time you saw him on the field, but after only a few seconds he turned to face you again, one brow arched. “Bed?” You couldn’t speak, and so you just nodded in reply, forcing yourself to turn away from him and climb back in. Ok. Ok, it’s happening, and he’s going to … 

You felt his hands on you before you could get settled, Jacks’s fingers sliding beneath the waistband of your underwear and then tugging. He eased them down, and when you straightened your legs and laid down on your stomach, folding your arms beneath your head, he removed them completely. 

Jack was silent for almost too long, and when you turned your head further to see what was wrong, you gasped. He was standing next to the side of your bed, staring down at you - but instead of both hands hanging by his sides, the fingers of one of them were curled around his length, the man as naked as you were. 

Jack stroked himself slowly, and when he saw that you were watching, one side of his mouth crept upward in a sly smile. “Found somethin’ I like lookin’ at, too.” 

You were fine until he winked. At the sight of that, you breathed out his name, both eyes closing. He laughed quietly, and when you felt the mattress dip a few seconds later, followed by the brush of his knee alongside yours, you knew what he was going to do. 

He swung his other leg so that he was straddling your thighs, and then Jack leaned forward, one hand flat on the bed next to you to support his weight with his uninjured arm. He touched you with the other one, fingertips trailing over your curves and then up, and your eyes flew open at the feeling of his mouth following those fingers, pressing kisses to the exposed expanse of your back. 

You would have been content to let him kiss his way up the entire length of your body, but only moments after you felt him run the tip of his nose up the line of your spine, Jack spoke again. “Roll over.” He nipped at your skin, the edges of his teeth dragging, and before he got out the next word - a quiet please - you were moving, slowly flipping over so that you were on your back and staring up at him. 

There was a warmth in his eyes that surprised you - and you wanted to take advantage of it. “C’mere.” You brought both hands up, one of them resting against his shoulder and the other urging him to move his face toward yours. “Let me k-”

“Not yet.” Jack nipped at the heel of your hand and then ducked down, zeroing in on one side of your chest. His lips closed around your nipple and when he sucked, your back arched, fingers tightening against his arm before you gasped and muttered the word sorry, moving it down and toward the space between his shoulders. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he sucked harder and then released your skin, flicking his tongue against it a few times before you felt the graze of his teeth. 

You moaned then, wanting him to hear how turned on you were, and it was the right decision. 

He switched to the other side of your chest, mouthing his way across your sternum. When he reached your other breast, you groaned out his name, hips rising from their place on the mattress to meet his. He swore at the contact, but Jack chased your movement with his own, even as he lapped at the curve of your skin. 

You felt how hard he was - the length of him hot against your lower abdomen, a warm, sticky smear dragging against your belly with every short thrust of Jack’s hips. “Jack.” You whispered to get his attention, heart thrumming in your chest. “Jack, hey.” He raised his head at the sound of your voice, but he didn’t sit up, instead staring at you with his chin pressed against your heated skin. “You’re too far away.” Using your free hand as a demonstration of your words, you slipped it between your bodies. “I can’t reach you.” 

“That what you want?” Jack wet his lips, taking a deep breath. “You wanna get your hands on me?”

“Yes.” Dropping your hand, you pressed it to your belly. “As a matter of fact, I do.” Jack straightened up then, sliding both knees forward and then settling back so that his weight rested on his calves. Your gaze dropped from his face to his chest and then lower, and before you had a chance to talk yourself out of it, you were using both hands to push yourself up and into a sitting position, widening the spread of your legs just enough so that you could bend your knees and plant your feet to help you balance. “What do you like?”

“I’m gonna like whatever you do.” He leaned in, voice low. “So don’t you worry ‘bout that.” Those words were all you needed, your eyes closing as you met him in another kiss. That one was slow, and it was you that slipped your tongue between his lips first, the sound Jack made almost too quiet to notice. But you liked that, didn’t you. 

You wondered if he could hear - or feel - the thudding of your heart, the beat of it traitorously quick. He knows. He’s gotta know. You reached out slowly, your fingers closing around Jack - and when you stroked him for the first time, the thrust of his hips toward you was immediate, Jack’s kiss turning hungry. He held you close, one arm wound around your shoulders, the other hand pressed flat against your lower back. Wait, though. Wait a second … 

Releasing him, you pulled your hand away slowly, and when Jack mumbled your name, backing up, it was your turn to wink. “Just a sec.” Averting your eyes, you looked down, hoping that he would do the same. Am I really going to do this? The sight of him - so close to the apex of your thighs - made the decision for you. Yes, I am. You slid your fingers between your own legs, coating them. 

“Oh, fuck.” You heard him - and knew that he was watching. Good. “Can I -”

“Yeah.” You let out a shuddering breath and moved your hand back to him, your slick fingers gliding up and down his length. “Yes, Jack.” He scooted back a few inches, and though you never broke your rhythm, it changed the angle, making it easier for you to pause at his tip to swirl your thumb around and over it a few times before giving him another firm stroke. 

He rested his forehead against your shoulder and stared downward between your bodies, Jack’s breathing quick. And when he touched you for the first time, it caught you by surprise - the press of his thumb turning into a slow circle of the digit. Then it was you that cried out his name, hips jerking forward and your grip tightening around him. Fuck that feels good.

He couldn’t do much else with the way you were positioned, but when Jack lifted his head to meet your eyes again, he grinned at the sight of your face - mouth hanging open and both eyes wide. “Lay down.” He swallowed, closing his eyes and shaking his head briefly. Wait, what? “Lay down.”

“But I won’t be able to -”

“I know.” He moved his hand, letting it rest against the crease of your thigh. “Lay back.” You stroked him twice more and then did as he asked, reluctantly pulling your hand away as you settled against the blankets and pillows. You wanted to bring your hand to your mouth and pop your thumb between your lips - tasting even the slightest bit of him. But he said no. He said not this time. And so you didn’t, getting comfortable and raising your hips as you waited to see what Jack would do, both hands resting by your sides on the blankets.

He repositioned himself, too, moving so that he was kneeling beside you before urging your legs further apart with one hand. It had only been a few minutes since you’d climbed into bed together, but time slowed as Jack twisted his wrist and slipped three fingers between your legs, two of them spreading you open and the other pushing slowly into you. 

He focused on what he was doing, the smile never leaving his lips, and even though you wanted to watch, you couldn’t. Your eyes closed and you turned your head to the side, mouth open as your hips rocked forward and into his touch. One finger inside of you turned into two, each thrust of them a little deeper than the last. 

He knew what he was doing - that much was clear - but Jack wasn’t trying to make you come. Instead, he was focused on pleasuring you, opening you up carefully. Because he’s big. Swallowing, you opened your eyes and forced out a breath, turning your head to watch him again. 

For a brief second, you considered saying fuck an even playing field and telling him you wanted his mouth. Jack would have done it without question - you could see the look in his eyes, watched the way he licked at his lips while his fingers pumped in and out of you. Even just the thought of it turned you on, and you wondered if he could tell. 

You wanted to know what it felt like to have him between your thighs, and could very clearly imagine how good the rub of his mustache against your sensitive skin would feel. Not tonight. Not this time. Not - 

“I need to fuck you.” His voice broke you out of your thoughts and when you met his gaze, Jack’s chest was heaving. “Grab the condom.” You groped for it without looking away and when you handed it over, he accepted it with one hand, the other still on you. “I can’t…” He groaned, closing his eyes and pulling his fingers out. You inhaled through your nose at the loss of contact, but Jack didn’t keep you waiting. The sound of the condom opening was followed by a quiet hiss as he rolled it on and then held it in place, squeezing himself. “I can’t hold myself up.” 

It hadn’t even occurred to you. Of course he can’t. Holding himself up would be … “Ok.” Nodding, you moved to push yourself up again. “Ok, so I’ll get on top, I -”

“No.” Jack stroked himself once, pushing his shoulders back. “I’ve got a better idea.” Gesturing with his free hand, he pointed. “Lay down on your side.” 

You thought about it for a few seconds and then did just that, rolling onto the side that would allow him to keep his injured arm free. Jack got into position behind you, his body pressed against yours. One arm slid between you and the mattress and then bent at the elbow to cross up and over your chest. He wants me close.“Wh-”

“Relax.” He kissed the back of your shoulder and then squeezed your arm. “I’ve got you.” Reaching down, he gripped your thigh and then eased your leg up and back, urging you to drape it over both of his. “This alright?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, a smile on your face as your eyes closed. “It is, Jack.” He squeezed your hip and then reached between you, guiding himself into place. You held your breath in anticipation, and Jack didn’t keep you waiting. Nudging his hips forward, Jack slipped partway in - and your body did the rest. 

Rocking your hips back at the same time he pushed forward ensured that he was buried in your heat in a single, smooth stroke. You gasped at the feeling, but that reaction was nothing compared to Jack’s. He didn’t speak, instead turning his head and then ducking it so that he was pressing his lips to your throat, breath leaving him in rapid pants that warmed your skin further. 

He only gave you seconds to adjust and then he pulled back slowly, hips easing away from you before he urged them forward again, setting the pace. He gripped your hip hard, fingers digging into your skin, and for a few minutes, you let yourself get lost in him - in the way he felt and sounded and the way he was touching you, the hand on your chest sliding down so that he could cup one breast in his palm, squeezing just enough that you could feel it. 

He groaned against your neck and then bit down - not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make you whine. While you reacted to that, he moved the hand from your hip down, returning it to the space between your legs.  

That angle was better - and Jack wasted no time in zeroing in with his fingertips, circling against you with quick, precise motion. It felt good - better than good, if you were being honest - and your body fell into rhythm with Jack faster than you anticipated. But something’s… Opening your eyes, you frowned. Something’s missing.

It was just sex. You knew it was just sex, and you understood the need for the positon; Jack’s health and well-being the most important things to consider. But … “Hey, you alright?” Murmuring the words into your ear, he slowed the motion of his hips and hand, though he didn’t stop either of them entirely. “You got real… stiff.” 

“Yeah, I …” Closing your eyes, you reached up with one hand, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. “I’m fine, I just …” Moving your hips backward to meet his as he thrust forward, you sighed. “I’m not used to not doing anything, and I feel like I should b-” 

“How ‘bout this?” He kissed the underside of your jaw, saying your name as he sunk back into you. “Next time, you’re in charge?” Next time? So that means… He circled his hips slowly, but didn’t pull out, leaving you completely full of him - and waiting to see what he’d say next. “How’s that sound?” 

Twisting your upper body so that you could look up at him, you took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. That sounds … acceptable.” He laughed at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It was just a natural reaction - Jack’s response to a humorous comment - but it made your chest tight, nonetheless. I want to make him look at me like that again. You reached up then, your hand sliding along the side of his neck and then further back and into his hair, the roots damp with sweat. Jack got the hint, leaning forward until he could kiss you again. 

That time, he bit down on your lower lip, taking it between his teeth and tugging before he released it, mouth sealed over yours. It was a familiar kiss - much more familiar than you’d expected with him, but it helped to put you at ease. You nodded slowly as you kissed him back, fingers tightening in his hair as Jack’s hand resumed its previous pace - and so did the pace of his hips. 

You wanted to prolong things - wanted to extend the time you’d get to spend in bed with him, but your body had other ideas. In the space of only a minute or two, you felt the heat gathering low in your belly, your breathing quickening by the second. Jack’s hips snapped against yours, and when he groaned, you felt the vibration before he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against the side of your face. 

He was sticky with sweat, but it was the sound of his voice you focused on. You weren’t even sure that he knew he was speaking, but each word went straight to your core, your fingers closing around his forearm as your mouth fell open. “Feels amazing. So fucking good. Wanted you all week.” You did? He groaned and tilted his head so that he could kiss the top of your shoulder, and you moaned at the feeling of the edge of his nail as it grazed your skin, the motion of his hand slowing. 

That got to him. 

Jack’s hips stuttered, and when your eyes opened, you realized that it wasn’t going to be you that came first. “Oh, fuck, Jack.” Lifting your hand again, you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling harder than you had earlier. “You’re right there, aren’t you? So fucking close.” He nodded, each of his exhales hot against your sticky skin. “Let me feel it.” You sighed again, turning your face away from him to press it against the blankets and biting your lip as you arched your back, forcing him in deeper. “Feel you.” 

He came without warning, a low, almost strangled moan erupting from his lips as his hips slowed, the muscles in his thighs tensing along with the ones in his abdomen. You felt the heat through the thin latex, Jack filling the condom as the pressure of his fingers between your legs increased. “Feel that?” He groaned the words out, his voice uneven. “Made me come fast because I wanted you so goddamn bad.” He grunted, continuing to move. “‘S’your turn now.” 

“Yes, I -” You stopped when he latched onto your shoulder again, the pressure of his teeth firm. Your hips jerked backward and toward his, the combination of everything he was doing too much to hold off your own orgasm any longer. 

But unlike Jack, you were vocal about it, his name tumbling from your mouth over and over even as your muscles seized around him, the heat uncoiling and spreading through your body as your hold on him tightened. Oh, fuck. 

Jack’s hand slid back down your chest and settled over your heart, and when he released your skin from between his teeth, you felt him smiling against it, even as the movement of his fingers stopped and his hips slowed. “Fuck you feel good.” Yeah, so do you. Both of you were breathing hard, but it was Jack that moved first, swiping his fingers in one more slow circle against you and causing you to jerk backwards and press against his body before he pulled his hand away. What is … 

You got your answer moments later when his damp fingers trailed over your thigh and then your hip before moving between your bodies to steady himself  as he withdrew. Humming as he pulled out, you brought your hand up to rub at your face while you caught your breath, already steeling yourself for the loss of him behind you. “Jack, I -”

“Shh.” He eased free, a long exhale hitting the back of your shoulder. “Can you move?” Move? You want me to get up? “Face me, I mean?” The question shocked you, but you did what he asked, moving your leg first and then carefully turning in his arms. “You good?” 

“Good? Yeah.” Fighting the urge to lift your hand and push the hair away from his forehead, you narrowed your eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be good?” 

“Donno. That was pretty quick.” He swallowed, the tip of his tongue emerging to wet his lips. “Didn’t mean for it to be.” You didn’t? “Sorry abut that.” He used his right hand to touch your shoulder, his eyes dropping to the skin and his lips turning downward into a frown. “I know I said you had to be careful, and then I just -”

“Don’t apologize.” You did reach up then, fingers brushing over his temple and easing the hair away from his face. “I liked it.” His eyes widened and then Jack laughed, ducking his head to kiss you quickly, his hand gripping your hip. “A lot.” Instead of backing away after the kiss, Jack stayed put, his mouth hovering just above yours. You wondered what he was waiting for - if he wanted you to say something else or if he was about to speak again, but instead of giving you too much time to consider, he acted. 

It caught you by surprise when he kissed you again, his tongue licking over the curve of your lower lip. You didn’t keep him waiting, though, angling your head and opening your mouth for him. If you only had a few minutes left before he was gone, you were going to make the most of them - and if Jack wanted to kiss you like he had no intention of leaving your bed, you sure as hell weren’t going to stop him.

Eyes closed, you kissed him back, one hand absently moving over the curve of his shoulder and then down, trailing along the muscles of his bicep. You would have liked to continue exploring his body, but Jack broke the kiss with a sigh, shaking his head.

“I’ve gotta go.” You knew it was coming but it still hurt, the sting of knowing that he was just going to leave canceling out some of the elation you felt at being in his arms. “I fucking hate to just …” Jack trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I wish I could stay.”

“You don’t have to do that, Jack.” Bringing your hand to the front of his body, you spread your fingers against his chest. “I get it.” You repositioned your shoulders, nodding. “Places to go, suitcases to pack, baseball games to play.” His eyes darkened briefly, lips falling back into a frown - but Jack recovered, smiling as he nodded at you. 

“Can I use your bathroom?” He got up as soon as you gave him permission, one hand holding the condom in place while he rolled away and then got out of the bed. You watched shamelessly as he crossed the room and then left it, pushing the door all the way open and disappearing into the hallway. As soon as you heard that door close, you sighed, rolling onto your back and covering your face with both hands. 

“Holy fuck.” You needed to get up, too. You needed to get out of the bed and get dressed, so that when Jack came back into the room, he didn’t find you laying where he’d left you. There would be plenty of time to think about him and about the time you’d spent with him after he was gone. I wonder if he’ll think about me, too. 

That question motivated you enough to get you on your feet. 

After you’d used the towel from your shower earlier to clean yourself up, you pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts, glancing at yourself in the mirror after you were dressed. He’s going to need to come back in here, and he’s naked, so… 

You padded down the hallway and knocked softly on the door, letting him know that you’d be downstairs. But you didn’t wait for a reply, heading briefly into your second bathroom and then into the kitchen, pulling two bottles of water from the fridge. You downed most of one before he appeared in the doorway of your kitchen, once again dressed, though his hair was still somewhat unruly. I like it like that. 

“That for me?” He pointed at the second bottle and you nodded, sliding it across the counter. He drank from it, keeping his eyes on you. It was awkward, but only slightly, and when he finished with his water, Jack swiped a hand across his mouth and grinned at you. “Thank you, darlin’.” 

“Of course.” You sipped, shrugging. “A bottle of water is the least I can do.” 

“No, not for that.” He scratched at his cheek, keeping his eyes on you. “For today.” He’s thanking me for sex? Your expression must have fallen enough that he saw it, because Jack immediately circled the counter to where you were standing, reaching out to wind an arm around you. “No, not like that. I’m not thankin’ you for … shit. I sound like such an asshole, don’t I?” He paused, glancing up. “It was real nice to not feel like this was just a hookup because of who I am.” Oh. Oh, that’s different. 

“You’re welcome.” You reached for his hand, linking your fingers together and squeezing. “I had fun today, too.” His smile widened at your words and to your surprise, Jack pulled you into a tight hug, letting go of your hand to hold you close. You hugged him back, turning your head and pressing your cheek against his broad chest. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.” 

The words slipped out before you could stop them, but Jack agreed, taking a step back and saying your name quietly and looking directly into your eyes as he continued. “I’d like that.” There was nothing left to prolong his leaving, and when Jack turned away and toward the hallway, you followed, though not closely. “I’ll be back up here later this week, if everything goes well.” He put on one shoe and looked up at you, nodding. “Can I call you?” 

“Sure.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you bit the inside of your lip. “That would be great.” You wanted to say more, but chose not to. And when Jack stood up, patting his back pockets to make sure he had everything, you leaned against the wall, watching. I have to lock the door, it’s not like I’m hovering. “Drive safe, Jack. You’re gonna be on the road a lot this week.” 

“Yeah, I am.” He reached for the doorknob then, fingers closing around it. But before he pulled it open, Jack spun back to face you and crossed the small space, crowding you against the wall. “I know I have to go, but …” He trailed off as you tried to process what was happening, but before you could get your bearings, he was kissing you, the wall at your back and his body pressed to your front. 

Is this fucking happening? He pushed his tongue between your lips, letting out a quick breath through his nose, and then Jack’s hand slid beneath your shirt and up. His fingers splayed wide against your side, though they curled inward when you nipped at his lower lip, tugging on it. It is. And he started it and… 

You broke apart with a quiet gasp, and after Jack pressed another kiss to your mouth, he said your name, tone serious. “No maybe about it. I want to do this again.” 

Straightening up, Jack winked at you and then moved to open the door, lips curving up into the smile that you were all too familiar with. Ok. Ok, yeah. Yeah, me too. 

“Yes.” It was all you could manage - one word in a breathless exhale - but it seemed to be all he needed, because you got another grin before he stepped outside in the the still-warm darkness of the mid August summer, closing the door behind him. 

---

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Would you be willing to write a Tav x Lia piece? It can fluffy, romantic, or the whatever strikes your fancy. Gender and race of Tav doesn't matter. I just feel the grumpy wizard gets center stage a bunch and Lia being absolutely gorgeous. Anyway have a nice day

the line in the grove where she admits to having nightmares absolutely broke my heart, all i wanted to do was hold her close and comfort her. thank you SO much for your ask, bc now ive got the perfect opportunity to do just that!

Lia/GN Reader, SFW Lia wakes up after a bad dream

~~~~

The pressure shifting on the bed stirs you, but not enough to open your eyes. You can hear the soft pad of Lia's feet across the floor, and then the creak of your bedroom door opening.

It would be all too easy to drift back into sleep but instead you stretch an arm across the bed, feeling the heat there slowly cooling. Even if you've grown accustomed to this over the months, you still feel the pang of grief and helplessness in your heart. You wish you could do more for her. Wish that your kisses and words could knock loose her fears. But you know that life is rarely so easy, so you'll continue doing what you can. Even if it doesn't feel like it's enough, you hope Lia understands that you're there for her, that you'd do anything for her.

Another creak from the door, and the soft shuffle of returning feet. You move your arm up as Lia carefully climbs back into bed.

"Sorry," She whisper-sighs, nestling her head in the crook of your arm, her hand finding your own in the dark.

You move closer to her, pressing your body flush against her back and snaking an arm around her chest. "Everyone okay?"

You feel her nod. "Rolan's still working, the idiot. And Cal's snoring away."

"Good." You squeeze her gently and kiss the back of her head, the clean, familiar scent of her shampoo easing you back into something nearing sleep. "Was it a bad one?"

A moment passes before she nods again. Her hand squeezes yours as she sighs, her words almost swallowed in her exhale, "Very bad."

You hold her tighter, your thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles against her ribs.

"You're safe. They're safe, my love."

"I know." And then softer, sadder, "I know."

You kiss her again, this time behind the ear. "Do you want to talk about it?" You already know her answer, but you ask nonetheless.

"No." Lia scoots back against you and snuggles her head against your arm, "Just...hold me, please."

So you do. You hold Lia close, peppering her with small, soft kisses and caressing her hands until you feel the tension in her body ease into the mattress. Even after her breath evens and deepens, you hold her like this, hoping that your watchful presence is enough to dispell any more bad dreams from her sleep, if only for the remainder of the night.

[fandomficsnstuff]

New Blood - 2

Warnings: Angst, like a lot of it. Mentions of sickness, cancer, a lot of angst following that.

Note: I have never had cancer. My grandmother’s husband (not my grandfather) had it but he died when I was 8 before I really knew what was up, so I’ve never really known anyone with cancer but I wanted to write about it anyway and I hope it’s okay. I tried to research as much as possible in order to get things right and not be incorrect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He saw her chatting and laughing with one of the Argents, he couldn’t quite be sure who, a cousin maybe, but she seemed quite friendly with him, chatting as she made his coffee and handed it to him, waving him off and as the man walked by Derek, he smirked at him, like he knew something he didn’t, it made Derek’s blood boil. Derek took a deep breath to calm down, looking back at Alina, continuing to focus on her, especially now that she seemed close with the Argents, and she had returned shortly after them. Derek smiled as he approached the counter where she was working, just in time as she turned around to face him. “Hello, how can I-” she grinned once she saw who it was “well, well. Don’t tell me you’re stalking me?”

“When do you get off?”

“What? Why?” she asked with amusement, Derek tilting his head a little at her, smirking “because I want to ask you out” he stated and she froze, eyes wide as she stared at him “you-... want to ask me out??” she asked slowly, Derek nodding with that same charming smirk “yeah. When do you get off?”

“W-Well, I get off at twelve which is in like a few hours, but I have to get home first and change if you’re serious about taking me out” she admitted, hoping he’d take it as a joke, but he just nodding “I’ll pick you up at your house at eight” he announced, about to leave, halfway to the door, when she called out to him “do you even remember me?” she asked with a smirk, as though either response wouldn’t insult her and he smirked “of course I do, high school, you moved away after your mom died, braces and pigtails” he stated with a smirk, watching how her cheeks turned beet red and she pressed her lips together in a thin line to not smile, the corners of her mouth tugging up and she looked adorable as she avoided his gaze shyly. “I’ll pick you up” he reminded her before leaving, Alina watching him through the window before realizing that she was still working, blinking and snapping out of her trance as she turned to the next customer “h-hi, how can I help you?” she asked breathlessly, taking down the order and nodding “it’ll be right with you” she informed, turning around to make the coffee as another took over the register, turning to see one of her colleagues smirk at her, making her cheeks turn even more red as she continued with her work, eagerly waiting for the clock to strike twelve.

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She had practically been running home, throwing her stuff in her room before running to the bathroom, showering, shaving, washing her hair and blow-drying it as fast as possible, running back to her room and pulling out her clothes while still in a towel, hair tied up so it wouldn’t get in the way. Then it hit her. She had no idea what kind of date this was. “Fuck… fuck fuck fuck fuck…”

“You okay?” Stiles asked and she turned around, looking at him like he was the second coming of Christ. “Stiles, thank god! Okay I’m going on a date-”

“What?”

“Okay, not a date but it feels like it’s a date but maybe it’s just two people catching up- I mean it’s a date and I have no idea what to wear. Help.”

“You’re going on a date?”

“Stiles!!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s see…” he walked over, pointing to a sweet and cute blue dress with a zipper in the front instead of the back, it would work both as casual and as fancy, though not ‘eating out’ fancy. “That” he decided and she nodded, kissing the side of his head before shoving him out “thank you thank you thank you I owe you big time- wait what time is it?” he looked at his phone “uh, like, it’s forty-five minutes past-”

“I only have FIFTEEN minutes?! Fucking fuck!” she cussed and slammed the door in his face, Stiles frowning with confusion before heading to his room. Alina got dressed as quickly as possible, quickly putting on some minimal makeup and once that was done she untied her hair, brushing through it, making it look semi-not-awful. And then the door rang. Her heart leaped in her throat and she groaned. “Stiles! Door!” she shouted, hearing footsteps soon after and she quickly made sure she was ready before taking a deep breath, readying herself before exiting her room with a small purse that had the essentials, her phone included. And then she heard the door slam. She hurried towards the door with a frown “what happ-”

“Him? Derek Hale?!” he shouted, so loudly that she even flinched, frowning at him with concern before walking over and opening the door, turning to look at Stiles. “Yeah…” she muttered, Stiles shaking his head and turning to Derek “no, no you stay away from her-”

“Stiles!” she snapped, Stiles looking at her with pleading eyes “Cherry, please” he pleaded, Alina studying him before turning to Derek, completely speechless before sighing, giving Derek an apologetic look “excuse me for a minute” she asked softly, closing the door and stepping away from the door with Stiles, glaring at him “what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“He’s not a good guy-”

“I can figure that out for myself, Stiles!... What’s really going on? And don’t tell me it’s that werewolf thing again, Stiles...” she asked softly, Stiles hesitating, sighing heavily “I just-... don’t want you to go, okay? I-I just got you back and-... just wait, okay?” he asked, it was a half-truth, but it seemed to be what made her relent as she nodded, walking back towards the door, opening it and giving Derek an apologetic smile “I-I’m so sorry. Could we take a rain check? I-I completely understand if not, I just-”

“Of course, I want you to be comfortable” Derek said softly, Alina blushing as she nodded “thank you…” she sighed lightly “if this hasn’t totally scared you off and you want to take that rain check, next coffee is on me?” she asked hopefully, wincing, already preparing herself for rejection when Derek nodded with a smile “of course. Have a good evening” he stated and left after Alina closed the door, her eyes turning to Stiles and she sighed heavily, wrapping her arms around him. “You should’ve just said so, mischief… alright let me get out of this get-up and we can watch movies alright?” she asked quietly, not waiting for a response before walking back upstairs, Stiles mentally kicking himself at how defeated she looked, her excitement about going on a date completely evaporated, slipped from her grasp before she even had time to enjoy it.

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Seeing one’s father at school was always nerve-wrecking, seeing the sheriff at the school was no better but seeing your sheriff father at the school when there had been no recent murders was the worst feeling. He had been called to the principal’s office, where Gerard had now taken the position as principal, and he met his dad there, a solemn look on his face. “Dad?”

“You need to get home, Stiles…” was all he said, Stiles frowning at him with concern before nodding, Noah nodding to Gerard “I’ll see you back home, I have to go back to the station for a few minutes” he muttered, walking out with Stiles who was too stunned to say anything, looking over his shoulder to see Scott with a frown, Stiles shrugging before getting into his jeep and driving off.

As he got home and got inside he was met with Alina sitting at the dining table, a frown on her face, hands on the table in front of her, clasped. “Cherry?”

“Please sit down, Stiles…” her voice was weak and uneven, her eyes locked onto him as he nervously approached “is… is everything okay?”

“Stiles… sit” she ordered again in a soft voice, Stiles nervously sitting down, their dad entering soon after, hesitantly sitting down next to Stiles at the table, Stiles looking between the two of them, his heart racing. “What’s going on?”

“Stiles… remember when you asked if I was sick like mom?” Alina started and tears formed in Stiles’ eyes, his head already shaking in denial “I’m not. I’m not sick like mom but-... I am sick…” she admitted, tears forming in her eyes and she had to look up as she tried to blink them away before looking back at him. Stiles instantly looked at his dad and Alina shook her head “dad didn’t know either. He found out about an hour ago, when I called him…” she admitted, Stiles looking back at her with hopeless eyes “Stiles… I have cancer…” Alina revealed quietly, voice weak and shaky, barely above a whisper as she tried to hold in her own tears as Stiles just stared at her. “I called dad because-... I was just at the hospital and… I-... I’m not getting better, mischief… I just-...” she sighed heavily, wiping away tears as she tried to regain her composure, looking at Stiles once more “I’m dying, Stiles…”

“How long-”

“Since I turned eighteen… I was diagnosed the day after I turned eighteen… I was out celebrating with some friends, we were-” she glanced at her dad before looking back at Stiles “drinking. We were drinking…” she admitted hesitantly in front of her dad, knowing that she’d been breaking the law back then “and I don’t remember what happened but I woke up in the hospital…” she trailed off, looking down before running a hand over her face in frustration “I’ve gone through chemo and trials and-... I’m sick all the time, I have to take, like, a thousand pills three times every day and I just-...”

“What are you saying?” Stiles asked quietly, Alina studying him before nodding to herself “I’m saying that-... I don’t-... I can’t fight anymore, Mischief-”

“Don’t call me that…”

“Stiles-”

“Just-... don’t” he got up and walked out of the kitchen, their dad turned to look at Alina who nodded to herself, lower lip trembling and he got up to follow after Stiles when Alina shook her head “no, let him…”

“Sweetheart…”

“It’s okay…” she stated with a forced smile, wiping away a few more tears, clearing her throat as he sat back down. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you… I thought-... that maybe-....”

“You thought if you didn’t say anything it’d go away?” he asked and Alina nodded, more tears streaming down her cheeks and he got up, walking over, helping Alina stand up and hugging her tightly, stroking her hair softly and soothingly. “I’m scared, daddy” Alina admitted quietly, sobbing, her dad nodding as he closed his eyes in regret, trying to stay strong for his little girl. “I know, sweetheart, I know…” he whispered, continuing to hug her, Stiles watching from the doorway with tears in his eyes.

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

Alina was as silent as the grave as she sat outside the hospital, staring at the ground, tears staining her cheeks and every time she wiped them away, more tears ran down her cheeks and wet them once again. “Are you alright?” the sudden voice made her flinch and look up, seeing an elderly man with a warm smile and she quickly stood up, clearing her throat and wiping her tears away as she nodded and forced a smile “yeah, of course, just, you know, that time of the month so, just, hormones and stuff” she lied smoothly, the elderly man narrowing his eyes at her with that same smile “you don’t have to lie” he stated and Alina’s smile fell, her throat dry as she looked down “yeah, well, apparently that’s all I’m able to do…” she muttered, the elderly man gesturing to a bench a few feet away and Alina hesitated before walking over to it, sitting down with the man sitting down next to her. “So, what’s going on? A stranger’s ear is often easier to talk to than a loved one’s” he advised and Alina chuckled briefly “I guess so… what’s your name?”

“Gerard. Gerard Argent” he introduced and Alina nodded “Alina Stilinski, but my brother and his dorky friend call me Cherry.”

“Cherry? How’d you come by that name?” he asked with amusement and Alina chuckled “it’s a long story” she stated with a shrug, looking down. “So, what’s troubling a young woman such as yourself?”

“I uh… I just moved back home, from New York, and-... well, I’m-... I just told my dad and brother yesterday that I have cancer, so I guess that’s that…”

“And they didn’t take it well, I assume? Since you’ve been crying” he asked with a small frown and Alina forced a smile and shook her head “nope,” she popped the ‘p’, looking into her lap “I mean, my dad took it better than I did when I found out… but my brother…”

“Not so well?”

“I understand why… I moved away after our mom died, she was sick too, only it wasn’t cancer and-... I should have stayed, I should’ve, but-”

“Everything reminded you of her?”

“Yeah… I couldn’t-... it was suffocating, but I should’ve stayed, he was only eight…”

“I understand what you mean but sometimes we have to look out for ourselves instead of our family, sometimes we have to serve ourselves” he stated gently and Alina scoffed, wiping her runny nose “I guess I just felt it was too selfish…”

“Then why did you move back?”

“I guess I-... I’m-... I’m not getting better, I know that, so I guess I just-...”

“Wanted to be with those you love for the time you have left?”

“Yeah… only now my brother won’t even talk to me and my dad-... I think he’s already seeing me in a casket…” Alina scoffed at her own morbid joke, Gerard humming quietly “if you truly wish to spend your time with them, then what are you doing here?” his words rang out in her head and she turned to look at him, studying him before getting up, mumbling a quick ‘goodbye’ before hurrying to the bus stop without looking back.

[justgleekout]

The Purrfect Crime

Summary: Kurt and Blaine were, as you say, “partners in crime”, but like, in the opposite sense… They were a long standing duo at the CIA. Headquarters knew they worked best when they worked together, so they just always did.

On their most recent mission however, their professional partnership is being tested as they go undercover as a married couple.

Rating: T

Words: 3,625

Additional tags: Fake Dating, spies!klaine, Friends to Lovers, crack elements, I really tried to be funny, smitten!blaine, Pining, oblivious!kurt?, Or Is he?, Alternate Universe

Notes: This work is a secret santa gift to @spaceorphan18! Merry Christmas!

First of all, I know this is a little late and I'm so sorry! I was struggling (to say the least) to get this done on time. As you can see, this is chapter one, because I just couldn't finish the whole thing and I didn't want you to wait any longer. I was so busy with work it's litereally not funny. I was pulling days from 7am til 9pm at some point. Then, when I started writing my first idea, I came to the realisation that I was including a very significant trope that was the oposit of what you had written on your wish list, so I had to start over... my own stupid mistake. Then, to make matters even worse, I spilled soda all over my laptop and it broke down completely. So I had to continue writing on my phone and ipad with a broken keyboard (I do NOT reccomend). I know, excuses excuses. I'm just bummed I didn't get it done on time. Also I now have to buy a new computer...

All that aside! I hope you like what I've got so far! I got really excited when I saw you wanted spies!klaine! A trope I absolutely love! Just note that I have never really written crack before, but I tried my best to make it fun add many silly elements! And I promise there are a lot more to come in the next part!!

Chapter: 1/?

Read on Ao3

They walked up to the gates of what could only be described as a palace (if America had those). The long and broad driveway behind the gates lead to a building so large and fancy looking, Blaine instinctively straightened his bowtie and readjusted his cufflinks. He knew he looked the part. Headquarters never sent out their agents in anything less than appropriate attire, but he couldn’t help it. He then glanced over at Kurt, who looked like he was a regular at this place, clad in a striking powder blue suit that perfectly brought out the colour of his eyes- no, Blaine, you are on a mission and he is your friend. He had to remind himself more and more frequently of the fact that they were partners in the professional sense only. No matter how gorgeous Kurt looked and how kind he was and how many flirty remarks he made at Blaine. 

“Did you get any information on what we are actually attending?” Kurt asked.

“No, chief Sylvester only gave me the location and this invitation.” Blaine held up a piece of royal blue parchment with a broken red and gold wax seal. The text on it was written in golden ink and read: 

“ Dear guest, 

Recently I received some incredible news concerning someone close to me that has enriched my life. I would like to share this news with you. Therefore, I hereby invite you to attend a celebratory party to join me in my glee on the evening of the 22nd of may at my residence. I would love to share with you a grand revelation that not even I know the outcome of. All that I will say is that it will be an evening full of surprises. 

Sincerely,

Hunter Clarington”

“What do you think it means?” Kurt asked as he took the paper from Blaine to inspect it further.

“I don’t know. But he is clearly up to something. Chief Sylvester said they got a hold of this invite right after they found suspicious signals and radiation coming from the address. They tracked all the vehicles going in and out of the vicinity. All transporting materials to build some sort of weapon… a powerful one.”

Kurt worried his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded, mulling over the information.

Blaine couldn't help but stare at Kurt's mouth as he licked his lips in thought. Blaine swallowed thickly and his breath hitched for a moment.

Kurt eyed him a little suspiciously. “Are you nervous?” he asked.

“Are you?” Great save, Blaine. Clever. 

Kurt shrugged. “A little, I guess.” 

Blaine didn’t actually expect that answer. “What? Why? You’re never nervous .” 

“Well I just don’t really fit in at these kinds of events… ”

Blaine frowned at Kurt. “What makes you say that?”

“Everyone here is rich, Blaine. I don’t know any of these etiquettes and inside jokes. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb…”

“Kurt, you are a spy for the CIA You are literally trained to fit in anywhere. I’ve seen you act. You’re a natural! And your suit looks incredibly expensive.” Better than mine anyways…

Kurt smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. I tailored it myself, actually.”

“A secret agent with secret talents. Seriously, Kurt, what can’t you do?”

“It’s not “Kurt” tonight, Remember?” 

“Right. Yes. Sorry, Mr. Ralph Murray, what can’t you do?” Blaine said to Kurt with a smile.

“Some secrets I don't dare share, not even with you, Mr. George Murray, darling. ” Kurt winked at Blaine.

And there it was; the reason Blaine was nervous in the first place. Tonight Kurt and he were Ralph and George Murray, husbands of five years, millionaires, and most importantly, on the guest list. It wouldn’t be a hard part to play; Kurt’s husband. Blaine had played that part often enough in his head. But Kurt didn’t know that, and Blaine would rather eat his bowtie than have Kurt finding out and Blaine making a fool out of himself. He just couldn't help but blush at the pet name Kurt gave him. 

Then, a sharp noise pierced his ear. Blaine flinched. This damn earpiece! And then a voice, “Hey guys, I’m glad to hear you are getting into character, but you better get in there. We have no clue where the signal is coming from within that building. And we need to find it fast. 

Right. Blaine thought. The stakes were high tonight. The nation was in danger and it was their job to secure its safety. “We best get in, then.”

“Oh before you do, I have hidden some gadgets for you in that bush over there on the left side of the gate.”

“Hold up. You have hidden our top secret, highly dangerous gadgets… in a bush?” Kurt said exasperatedly into his earpiece. 

“I figured they would be easily accessible…”

“Yeah. To literally everyone , Sam,” Kurt hissed.

“Oh… yeah…”

“Look, Sam, just tell us what you got us,” Blaine said as he crouched next to the bush, pushing the branches aside to reveal a suitcase. He opened it and Sam continued, “Alright. There is of course your trusted grenade pen, anaesthetic darts-watch and bulletproof handkerchief, but I have also added a few of my newest inventions.”

To this, Kurt shot Blaine an apprehensive look. They were a little too familiar with Sam's “ inventions” to say they were always a raging success. They looked into the suitcase and saw, beside their usual gadgets, something that looked like a small beauty case, an umbrella and a pair of sunglasses. “What the…” Kurt whispered under his breath.

Blaine frowned. “Sam, the event is inside… how are we supposed to casually pull out an umbrella or sunglasses?” 

“You're worried about the sunglasses? How do you reckon we are gonna be able to pull off using a, what is this, a lipstick ?” Kurt said as he held up a small golden tube. 

“I- hadn’t really thought about that,” Sam confessed.

Kurt looked like a vein was about to pop in his forehead as he pinched the skin between his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

“What do they do, Sam?” Blaine offered.

“Right, so, the umbrella is not only completely waterproof, it is also fire resistant and creates a perfect shield once unfolded. The sunglasses have infrared night vision and the lipstick is my personal favourite. It releases a toxic fume if you press that button on the back there, but that won't affect you when you are wearing the lipstick as it neutralises the toxins as they come close to it, so when you inhale, you're totally safe,” Sam said proudly.

Blaine had to admit the inventions sounded pretty incredible had they been more practical. “Alright,” he sighed. “Thank you, Sam.”

Kurt side eyed him and Blaine offered a shrug in return. 

“Well, we’d better get going, now. We’ll tune back in when we need you, Sam,” Kurt said and tapped on his earpiece once to hang up. Blaine followed. “Honestly, I can’t with him sometimes. I know you guys are friends, but he sure gets on my nerves.”

Maybe Sam didn't always have the best ideas, but he really wasn't bad at his job. Blaine thought. “He tries his best, though. And he is actually really great once you get to know him,” 

Kurt shook his head. “You’re too kind for your own good,” he said, but there wasn't any actual judgement in his voice. 

Blaine smiled and the blush he was sporting a minute ago returned faintly to his cheeks.

They walked through the gate towards a grand wooden front door in front of which a big woman was standing behind a podium with her arms crossed. "Names?" she said as she was eyeing them up and down suspiciously.

Blaine put on his most charming smile. “George and Ralph Murray,” he responded.

She looked at the register in front of her and her expression changed. “Ah! Splendid!" Welcome to the Clarington residence. All guests are expected in the ballroom for the welcome speech at 8:00 pm sharp. In the meantime there will be beverages and appetisers served in the grand foyer. Please enjoy your evening Mr. and Mr. Murray.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said and nodded to the woman. They walked past her as the doors opened. 

“Ballroom? Really?” Blaine whispered at Kurt as they made their way up the steps leading to the front door. “What is this place? Versaille?”

Kurt sniggered and gave Blaine a pointed look. “Play the part now, Blaine,” he said as they stepped over the threshold. 

They entered an incredible marble room with two grand staircases with golden railings on each side. Large pillars reached to the high ceiling on which, in the middle, hung an enormous crystal chandelier. Blaine’s mouth fell open and he heard Kurt release a low whistle. They quickly pulled themselves together as they were approached by a young handsome waiter. “Welcome, gentlemen. Can I offer you a drink? A glass of champagne perhaps? Cocktail?”

“I’ll have an old fashioned, thank you.” Kurt said with a confident, charming smile. See? Blaine knew Kurt had nothing to worry about. He was a natural. Blaine might have come from money, but Kurt just radiated class. 

“For me a negroni, please. Let’s save the champagne for later after the great announcement, don't you think?” Blaine said with a wink.

The young man blushed. “Certainly, sir.” 

“Say, do you happen to know anything about this speech?” Blaine asked him.

The waiter's eyes grew wide for a second. “I- I’m sorry sir, but it’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

“Of course. I’m sorry,” Blaine gave the waiter an understanding smile. The young man bowed his head gratefully and dashed away to get their drinks.

Blaine leaned into Kurt’s side, “You reckon he didn't know? Or he didn’t want to say?” he asked.

“Not sure… Would you share your secrets with the waiting staff?”

“I don’t know. I never had waiting staff.” 

“Hm.” Kurt gave him a considering look that lingered a bit too long. It made Blaine feel a little hot in the face.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Kurt shrugged. “I’m just trying to paint a picture of you.” When Blaine didn't respond immediately he added, “It's a good picture, don't worry.” There was something suggestive in the way Kurt spoke. Blaine looked at him as if to try figuring him out. Kurt was just good at playing his part. Blaine told himself. Though no one was looking at them at the moment so there was no direct reason for it.

“Let's ask around some more, shall we?” Kurt suggested, breaking the tension.

"Yeah. Good plan.”

The young waiter had returned with their drinks and they started moving through the crowd. They asked multiple people if they had any idea what they were doing here, but no one seemed to know or want to tell them anything. 

“This is hopeless. We are wasting valuable time.” Blaine slumped against one of the pillars. 

Kurt opened his mouth to respond but Blaine motioned for him to be quiet when he heard a woman speak; “See, I told you he was weird. Who hosts a party for their cat?” 

They turned to look where the voice came from. A latina woman with long dark hair in a fitted, red, velvet dress was talking to another woman. This one with blond hair styled in a stylishly messy updo and a mint green dress. 

“I would,” the blonde woman said solemnly. “And I have in the past.” 

“Yeah, but that’s different. You’re cute about it.” The dark haired woman flirted and the blonde one gave her a quick kiss. 

“Excuse me,” Blaine piped in.

The dark haired woman gave him a once over, clearly judging him.

“George Murray, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand and the woman took it with only slight reluctance. “This is my husband, Ralph Murray.” He gestured to Kurt who then also shook the woman’s hand. Blaine noticed that the look she gave him was a lot less disapproving. Though Blaine couldn't blame her when Kurt was wearing that suit. 

“Santana Lopez,” the dark haired woman introduced herself. “This is Brittany Pierce.”

The men shook Brittany's hand as well. “I’m sorry, we just couldn’t help but overhear… Do you happen to know what this event is for?”

“I’ve only heard rumours,” Santana said.

“I see. Where did you get these rumours from?” Blaine asked.

Santana crossed her arms. “Well aren’t you the little detective. What's it to you, anyways? 

“Just nosy.” Kurt’s smile turned a little more devious than polite, matching her energy.

“They say it’s his cat’s birthday, but that doesn’t explain the great announcement. Maybe his cat got nominated for an award.” Brittany said

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other in disbelief, and back at the women. “You can’t be serious,” Kurt said.

Santana crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Deadly.” 

“He can't be that passionate about a cat?”

“Wanna bet?” Santana challenged. “How do you think we know him?”

The men shrugged.

“We know him from cat shows.” Santana rolled her eyes. “Brittany’s cat, Lord Tubbington, often runs against his cat, Mr. Puss. So believe me when I say people are passionate about their cats. Anyways if you really wanna know, we heard it from Sebastian Smythe.”

“Who is that?” 

“He is one of Hunter's closest friends .” She grinned as if to imply something.

“Do you think Hunter told him about his plans for the night?” Blaine asked, trying to hide the eagerness in his voice.

“I’m sure he did. I overheard them talking about half an hour ago. Something about ‘getting it ready in the basement.’ ” She shrugged.

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a meaningful look. “Do you know how we can get in there?” Kurt asked.

“I'm sure Sebastian has a keycard to the elevator. But hold up, why do you want to know so bad?”

“Never mind that. What does he look like; Sebastian?” Kurt asked.

Santana smirked. “Oh you can’t miss him.” 

Brittany then took Santana's hand and whispered something in her ear. They giggled. “Look we’d love to stay and chat, but we, er, we gotta go.” Santana said before she was pulled away by Brittany. Santana managed to add a “good luck” as they disappeared into the crowd. 

“What do we do now?” Blaine sighed. “We have no clue where to find this Sebastian character,”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Kurt said and pointed over Blaine’s shoulder. 

Blaine turned to look, and there, in the middle of a group of people, stood a handsome man who was clearly the centre of attention. The people around him were laughing at his jokes and basically fawning over him. “You reckon that’s him?” Blaine asked.

“ Oh my god, Sebastian! You didn’t!” one of the guys closest to him laughed and flirtily touched the man’s arm. 

Sebastian petted the guy’s hand and smirked. “You should hear what I did with his father,” he said and winked at the woman next to him. The people around him all laughed.

Blaine snorted. “Well that answers that,” he said.

“He looks incredibly obnoxious,” Kurt said and narrowed his eyes. “He is flirting with literally everyone in his little group.” He grimaced.

“Maybe we can use that to our advantage?” Blaine thought out loud. However he didn’t really feel like watching Kurt chat up another man. He would just have to do it himself. “I will go and talk to him!” 

“Wait, maybe-” but before Kurt could protest, Blaine had stepped into the circle of people. Sebastian's eyes were immediately on him. 

“Well hello handsome,” Sebastian said and extended his hand towards Blaine. “I don’t think we’ve met. You look like someone I wouldn’t easily forget.” He grinned.

Despite his better judgement, Blaine blushed. The man was handsome, alright. And definitely charismatic, judging by the effect he had on the people around him. “We haven't. My name is George Murray. Are you Sebastian Smythe?” Blaine asked as he shook the man’s hand. 

“Matter of fact I am. To what do I owe this pleasure?”  

“I was talking to some friends of mine and you sounded… interesting” Blaine smiled a what he hoped was a seductive smile. 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and turned away from Blaine for a second to make a dismissive gesture to his followers. “Could you give us a moment please?” 

The small crowd looked annoyed, some even jealous, but they obeyed, leaving the two men to themselves. Sebastian turned back to Blaine “Interesting, hm?” he grinned. 

Now that they were talking Blaine realised he didn’t actually have a solid plan. He couldn’t straight up ask Sebastian to give him the key. He would never just hand it over. Maybe Blaine could convince Sebastian to take him to the basement? But he needed Kurt with him. So he had to think of something else.

“They said you were close friends with the host,” Blaine said, trying to imply exactly whatever Santana was implying before. “I can see why he would like you,” he flirted. Apparently this was the right move, as Sebastian looked him up and down let his gaze rest on Blaine’s mouth. 

Sebastian leaned in closer. “You’re cute, George Murray. How come I’ve never seen you before?” 

“I- I’m usually very busy with eh- work. Don’t-“ Blaine swallowed. “Don’t often have time for parties.” Out of the corner of his eye Blaine noticed movement. He glanced over Sebastian's shoulder and saw that Kurt was miming something. “Back pocket!” He mouthed. What about his back pocket? Wait. Sebastian’s back pocket! The keycard was in sebastians back pocket!

Sebastian, who luckily didn’t seem to have noticed anything, spoke again, “Ah, so you're Mr. Professional, hm? Do you always obey the rules or are you capable of letting loose every once in a while?”

“Er, yeah sure,” Blaine said semi on auto pilot. How the hell was he supposed to get the key-card from Sebastian’s pocket? “What about you?” he asked. “Are you a rule breaker?”

“You could say that,” Sebastian quipped. 

Blaine laughed. He needed to get very close and personal with this man but whilst he was doing so, he might as well find out some more information.

“I was wondering,” Blaine said and trailed his finger over Sebastian’s chest. “As you’re such a bad boy, would you mind telling me what tonight is all about?” Blaine looked up through his eyelashes. 

Sebastian inhaled through his teeth. “Oh babe, I can’t tell you that. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

“I thought you didn't play by the rules.” 

“Why don’t you come upstairs with me where we can have a little more privacy and I can tell you all you want to know.” Sebastian said and slipped an arm around Blaine’s back. 

This was his chance. He could take it now and Sebastian wouldn't notice. He just didn’t know how to get out of the situation once he made his move. Blaine looked over his shoulder in search of Kurt and found him looking at them. Blaine gave him a quick pleading look, hoping Kurt would understand. Here goes nothing. He put his hand on Sebastian's back and slid it down to rest over his butt. “Sounds amazing...” Blaine felt the card in Sebastian's pocket. “...but I forgot to mention…” He slid his fingers into the pocket over the card, trying to pull it off as a caress, and as he retreated his hand he pulled the card out. Got it. “...that I'm married.” 

As if on cue, Kurt stepped in front of them. “Darling! There you are! I was looking for you.” He smiled a bit too sweetly at Blaine. “Who’s our new friend?” he asked and shot a murdering look at Sebastian. 

“Woah, what the hell?” Sebastian took a step back, letting go of Blaine. 

Blaine quickly slipped the key-card into his own pocket and stepped closer to Kurt. “Ralph, honey, this is Sebastian. He is a close friend of Hunter’s. Sebastian, this is my husband, Ralph Murray.”

“Husband? Wow,” Sebastian said. “Was not expecting that.” 

Kurt held out his hand. “Pleasure,” he said through gritted teeth.

Sebastian took Kurt’s hand and shook it once. 

Kurt turned to Blaine again. “Well it’s almost 8 o’clock. We should get going, darling.” 

“Right.” Blaine nodded. “Maybe we can talk later?” he offered innocently to Sebastian as if nothing had happened. “It was very nice meeting you.” 

“Sure was,” Sebastian said and winked at Blaine, clearly recovered from the initial shock. “I am looking forward to seeing you again, George.”

Kurt then pulled Blaine away by his hand through the crowd, leaving Sebastian behind. 

“Thank you for saving me,” Blaine said once they had found a quiet corner.

“You didn't really seem like you needed saving,” Kurt said coldly.  

“What do you mean? If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have been able to get away!” 

“I mean, ” Kurt said. “It didn't seem like you had such a terrible time with him. I know you needed to get the card, but how are we supposed to come across as a happily married couple when you are feeling up all the other guests.” He crossed his arms defensively.

Blaine stared at Kurt for a second. Then it dawned on him. “Wait, Kurt, are you jealous?”  

“No,” Kurt snapped. 

“Oh my god, you are totally jealous.”

Kurt’s cheeks turned red. “Shut up, I'm trying to take this mission seriously. Did you at least get the key?”

Blaine couldn't help but grin as he presented it. “Got it right here.”

“Great. Let's go try it out before he finds out it’s missing. We need to get to the basement before it’s 8 o’clock.” 

[e-dubbc11]

Thank You for 400!!

Celebration Anyone?

Pic isn’t mine. Found it on Pinterest.

Greetings lovelies from my little blog!

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who follows me, comments and reblogs my fics, throws a ♥️ at anything I post/write or sends a tag game my way.

To my pocket friends that I chat with on the regular and sometimes not so regular, you always bring a smile to my face when I see your messages.

I know interaction has been down here in the Tumblr-verse lately but I’ve decided to do a celebration anyway. I hope you’ll come say hello and drop something in my inbox ♥️

I don’t really have a name or a theme for this celebration so I’ll just say thank you again and the rules will be under the cut.

This isn’t limited to my followers, although I would love it if you did.

My two muses I write for are Matt Murdock and Billy Russo, although there are a few characters that I wouldn’t mind trying to write for ( Dean Winchester, Donald Pierce, Quinn McKenna, Brock Rumlow, but I’m really scared to. Maybe I just need a nudge 🤣

Send in as many as you’d like

Fuck, Marry, Kiss (or Kill if you wanna make it interesting) I’ll do characters from the following…

MCU

Supernatural

Netflix Series ( DD, Punisher, Defenders)

Boyd Holbrook characters

Ben Barnes characters

Fall Activity Moodboard 🍁🍂🎃👻🍺

It’s getting to be my favorite time of the year in my neck of the woods. I love everything about autumn. This one is for mutuals only OR if you have ever reblogged and commented on any of my fics.

Send in any character with a fall activity (apple picking, Halloween related, cider tasting, etc.) and I’ll make a moodboard for you

Song Lyric Prompt

Full disclosure, I am not a new music girl. I probably stopped listening to newer music around 10 years ago. But I love anything from the 80’s thru early 2010’s. (I love older music too from the 60’s and 70’s)

Send me a character and a song lyric (from those time periods) and I’ll see what it inspires me to write

Miscellaneous

Send me a character plus a fluffy or smexy gif and I can try to write a drabble/fic based off of that gif

Pick a scene from a fic of mine and I’ll write it from the other person’s POV.

Prompt Lists

I’ll leave some prompt/dialogue lists below and if something strikes your fancy, send it on over with one of my muses (or challenge me with a new one from the above list) and I’ll see what I can do with it. Or if you have one in mind not on these lists, that’s absolutely fine also.

Confessions of Feelings

Kiss Prompts

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue/Prompts

Random Dialogue Prompts

Autumn/Fall Dialogue/Scenarios

I’ll keep this open until September 16 CLOSED

Again, thank you all for following me, for commenting on my fics, just all of the things! Nothing goes unnoticed, I promise you ♥️ Everyone’s support means a lot to me and I hope you continue to like the content I put out. ♥️

Tagging some of my lovelies that always cheer me on and hug me from afar whenever I need it, thank you again!

@mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @munsonownsmyass @ilovewhiteroses @ruflirtingwithme @russosafehaven @qu1etwolf @kayhi808 @k-marzolf @wheresthesunshinesblog @danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fictional-hooman @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @mattmurdocksscars @theradioactivespidergwen @skvatnavle @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @music-indie-tv @idaofinfinity @vaguekayla @pedrito-friskito @wint3r-h3art @freshabogados @gijos @nutmeg17 @jvanilly

[wigster07]

Never Not Commenting Fic List: (my goal of 3-4/Day)

Today's fics read and commented on. If any of these strike your fancy, please check them out and maybe let the author know a favorite line or moment that happened! As with any fic rec, please not the tags and determine if the fic is for you before reading.

Forbidden Connections, Crossing the Boundary - Chapter 1 - Cailean - Willow (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

Rated E / Summary: Kit's easy-going time is coming to an end and she asks Jade for help to face that uncertain future while Jade is struggling with her own path ahead.

Only chapter one of two of this is posted so far and it's delightful. I would say chapter one is more T but sets up for an E rated second chapter.

show don't tell - Geek_and_Nina - Willow (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

Rated T / Summary: Kit is having a mental block with her writing, but it's a beautiful day outside. So Jade takes on a stupid walk for her stupid mental health.

The Show Don't Tell is a delightful series created by @geek-and-nina. There are 31 parts to the series where Nina (who did the crazy thing like I did) and touched a prompt for every day (sometimes more than just the one and weaving them all together). This is a deaf Kit AU that is just *chef's kiss*. I could do a tumblr post just on this series alone and highly recommend it. This is the start of the series and a wonderful starting look into their relationship. (Kit is a writer in this one and carries a little field notebook wherever she goes and that just calls out to me and my little field notebook.)

concert and candy apples - Geek_and_Nina - Willow (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

Rated G / Summary: Jade takes Kit to a concert (yes deaf people like music and concerts)

Another piece of the Show Don't Tell series by Nina. This one has some lovely mirror bits from Kit to Jade from the previous one. (It's about the hands and listen...it's peak lesbian iconic behavior). This one is all about a concert and it has some lovely moments in it.

Longing for the Perfect Kiss - sofys37 - Willow (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

Rated E / Summary: Kit has been searching for centuries, without ever giving up hope that one day she would find the one worthy to be by her side. Jade is just having a regular night out until she meets Kit.

It wouldn't be October prompts without a little horror. This one is a vampire Kit fic with some inspiration from Vampire Masquerade. I'm not familiar with the lore/universe but it shines through and it's easy to get what's going on. There is also a delightful bit of Jade/Elora in this one involving a strap. There is a follow up to this fic that I look forward to reading as I continue my commentfest.

I would love to tag the fic authors on Tumblr but I'm not sure I know them all. Please let me know Tumblr handles so I can tag them appropriately!

I hope you all join me on this Never Not Commenting event for the rest of the month. Kudos, a simple "I loved this", or quoting your favorite line/bit is a wonderful way to show some love back to the people who write amazing fics in their free time for you to get to tag along into the world and enjoy.

[between-thepages]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @gabetheunknown, thank you <3

how many works do you have on ao3?

Currently 88, I am determined to make it to 100 before the end of the year.

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

29,604

3. what fandoms do you write for?

The Witcher Books/Games, Silmarillion, Lord of the Rings and sometimes Endeavour/Inspector Morse when the fancy strikes.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In the Morning (Glorestor)

Dance to the Firelight (Rorveth)

Eating Love (Rorveth)

Mirror Image (Rorveth)

Body and Soul (Yenralt)

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I respond to them, I love comments, but I'm slow. Also, there are only so many variations of "Thank you" one can type in a day before it starts feeling ridiculous. I promise I'll get to your comments before Christmas!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

my Iorveth/Cedric drabble from last spring. I had to cope with the Ending of Lady of the Lake.

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Beautiful like Starlight, but even that isn't really all that happy... I am writing a followup to it at the moment though.

8. do you get hate on any fics?

So far, only from a certain someone for shipping the wrong characters, but i usually have my comments restricted to logged-in users, so leaving Anon hate isn't really possible.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I will write everything once and then decide if I'll do it again xD Expect it to be at least somewhat kinky.

Also, it has to fit into a drabble or two, I can't really write long-form smut.

10.do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't yet, I will write a Witcher/Silm crossover one day, just so I can get some of the ladies to meet

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know, but I doubt my drabbles are interesting enough to steal.

12.have you ever had a fic translated?

Not officially, but I am trying to translate some of my fics myself. No idea when I'll be done there, though.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

No

14.what's your all time favorite ship?

As a multi-shipper, all time favourites are hard, because all i need are three compelling arguments and I start shipping another pairing xD

I guess Fingon/Maedhros is one of the pairings where I am least likely to read a fic if they are partnered with someone else.

15.what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'll burn with a light of my own, because I started it for a flashfic challenge right before my silm hyperfixation hit full force, so Witcher is a bit on the back burner at the moment. It also needs some serious plot outline to develop further, so the continuation really depends on my interest the next few months.

16.what are your writing strengths?

I have been told I am good at writing short stories, which is great because I love writing drabbles.

17.what are your writing weaknesses?

long plots, probably. I always struggle with reaching wordcounts and making my stories interesting.

18.thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Depends on the language and usage. I love things like terms of endearment in another language (I made up a nickname for Isengrim to use for Iorevth, after all), but I do sometimes get annoyed with the random elvish words in Tolkien fics.

The best use of other languages is if it is used to confuse the POV character, but then it has to be somewhat consistent.

19.first fandom you wrote for?

Sunrise Avenue xD But I never published any of it. The first fanfic I published was for Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.

20. favorite fic you've written?

She came in through the window because it got me into a new kind of rarepair hell <3

Tagging @she-who-drank-vodka-with-cats, @aretuzagradschooldropout and @gleamingsilence, I'm late to this so I really hope I haven't accidentally tagged someone who already did this <3

[thewolfisawake]

Ceilidh had returned to the library to find it was not empty. She prepared to start her spiel as to how she could assist. However the words halted when she noticed the visitor in full.

He was reading from the history section. Though it was flitting, she was sure he was actually reading them. Amusement seemed to grace his features. Ceilidh normally wouldn't mind someone that wanted to browse the library...since it was ever rare that anyone bothered with it. But is it not a little strange for the Unseelie king to be wandering the Seelie library?

"Your Majesty, welcome to the Alcove of Prose," Ceiliidh greeted with a curtsy, "I apologize, I was not made privy to your desire to visit here. I would have prepared properly."

"So formal, dinnae pay me any mind," he said, "but ah tend tae be intent on learning no matter where ah gan. Yet ah widnae ask Camhlaidh tae extend himself further fir the sake of a visit. Shattered lad, innit he? So ah wandered doon myself."

"Unattended?"

"Och aye, my generals dae hae interests outside of me," he chuckled. Risteard likely off negotiating his poisons. Solanine seeking whatever pretty things strike her fancy. And his Bheinnan, he deserved his rest, "but Ceilidh if I recall correctly, dae you tend tae this place yourself?"

"There are those that do physical maintenance but for the most part it does fall on the Scribe to maintain the Alcove, yes," Ceilidh said, "so I can recommend some Seelie literature if is so pleases you. However, I would like to ask for permission from His Majesty on allowing you to peruse the historical records."

Balmoral raised a brow, "Haw, so reading aboot the fun you a' goat into is off-limits? Fir wye?"

Saying 'because you could be an enemy' would not be the move to make. However, she couldn't prove that the man would do anything with the history. It likely held no advantage to him but if he wanted it, Ceilidh had reason to be unsure. Part of her wondered why should she care, it wasn't as though her king cared about what she was up to. Nor had he asked her of anything unlike his gentry. But yet she straightened as she said:

"......I have yet to finish transliterating our records. So they are incomplete and thus not acceptable to show to our guests. Especially an esteemed one such as yourself, Your Majesty, I am terribly sorry."

Canny lass, Balmoral thought. At least Camhlaidh has some interesting characters to surround himself, "Course, though when you finish ah would hope tae hae a chance tae read. Your prose is quite beautiful yet mensely informative."

Ceilidh flushed. No one had ever complimented her work before. Much less encapsulate her intent so easily. She stuttered, "You f-flatter me. I...I simply try my best."

"And your best is quite the feat. Of course ah cannae check a'thing within your collection...but the few historical records ah was able tae read, you are wan responsible fir its continued legacy. And ah bet if ah checked much of em, they're penned by your loving haun," Balmoral remarked.

He met the gaze of the Scribe as he informed, "Ah'm interested in an archivist like you, Ceilidh. While my haun with the kingdom is young, ah hope tae have it endure much like the Seelie has. But because of the conflicts much of our pasts are scattered. And it's better tae have a record fir despite our long-lived selves, the mind does nae always remain so keen and unfortunately with some in the Unseelie, they do nae last as long as they like to believe."

"Including yourself, Your Majesty?" Ceilidh questioned. Maybe he was trying to get someone to write nicely about his reign? She didn't like the idea of that and found it brazen of him if he did. However she wanted to get a read on his intention. Yet not once so far has he stalled or stuttered from the draw of a lie. So he had to be speaking something true in all this speak...but she wanted to know if he'd spill a little more.

"Noo you've goat it," he grinned, "ah'm nae so arrogant tae believe ah can rule fir eternity but ah aim tae build something thon'll last thon long. In whatever form ah can manage. A' this blether to simply say: if ever it interests you, the Unseelie does have a place fir you. And while ah dinnae necessarily have gentry tae begin with, as ah said, your best is quite a feat. And ah prize highly--and reward highly--those thon are good at whit they dae."

He placed the book back in its proper place as he said, "Of course, if you are content here. If you are happy here, then ah widnae force you tae leave. But ah would like tae put forward thon you have options, Ceilidh Ìomharach. Ah hope you might be able tae visit the Unseelie tae see if it suits your tastes. Consider it willnae ya?"

With that, Balmoral moved past the stunned woman. She was not expecting that. Were the Unseelie all as strange as him? Or was there some kind of game she hadn't caught onto? Either way...she'd just been given a job offer. Oh, her father would have a fit...and it was something she'd have to bring up to His Majesty.......joy.

[void-kisses]

Masterlist

(I'll try to update this as I go)

Fandoms I'm willing to write for:

Criminal minds

Arcane

Doctor who

MCU & Marvel

DC (I'm fuzzy, but I'll try)

Death note

Hazbin Hotel

Baldurs Gate 3

Good omens

Stardew valley

Formats:

Almost always X reader

- Head cannons

- blurbs

- Works in progress/

- sneak peeks for longer fics (I will post full ones to AO3 & link the fic in the post)

My boundaries:

Requests: please send them! I love prompts and requests give me motivation to write more often

Dms: also, please send them! I'd love to talk to people

Smut: I'm a kinky fuck, so I'm okay with almost everything. My main no's are overt non-con (rape, incest, pedophilia, etc) some cases of dub-con are okay (consensual somno, consensual/mutual substance use, overt in universe CNC, etc) also, sorry but I also have a hard limit with shit/piss/vomit, I just personally can't stomach it.

Fluff: go wild man. Pure fluff, hurt-comfort, whatever the people desire.

Angst: same story. Whump is a fav of mine. I rarely do hurt-no-comfort without prompting but if it's requested, I can do it.

Minor characters: IMPORTANT READ! I will write for minor characters, however as I am myself not a minor, I am no longer comfortable writing for minors. If you know me from my old romantic fics for Black Butler & Hunter x Hunter I'm sorry but I wrote those when I was 12 and removed them from my page a while ago. I will continue writing PLATONIC fics if the fancy strikes, but no more romantic! X reader. I hope y'all can understand. Also, for age up fics, I'll use basic human logic. Meaning; aged up characters will behave as adults and be clearly adult. If this is a problem in your mind, you're weird.

I think that's it, thanks for sticking around if you read all this. You get a cookie 🍪🖤

[cryptidsurveys]

Saturday, October 5th, 2024.

So, how's adulting treating you in the 2020s? Are you smashing those expectations, or do you just wanna Netflix and chill all day? First of all, it was never really Netflix & Chill; for me, it was more like YouTube & Rot. Anyway, I'm certainly not smashing any societal expectations, but I am doing better than what I once believed was possible. It gives me hope that I can continue to make progress.

Remember all the fads and trends from the 2010s? Which one makes you cringe the most when looking back now? Vaguely…? I've never been a particularly trendy person. Most of that stuff just goes over my head. As for things that make me cringe…hmm. Maybe early memes. We've come a long way since the days of Courage Wolf and Socially Awkward Penguin.

In the 2020s, are you living the glamorous life you thought all adults had in the 2010s, or is it more like trying to keep houseplants alive and failing miserably? I never thought every adult had a glamorous life, but I was (and am) guilty of idealizing adulthood, especially when confronted with curated and idyllic social media posts. And heck, not even that - something as basic as a "grocery haul mom vlog" would make me yearn for that middle class suburban dream. ;D The second half is more like my actual experience. I don't have any house plants, but as I ease further into adult responsibilities, it continues to feel like a case of having so much to do and not nearly enough time in which to do it. There's always something I neglect for the sake of something else. It makes leisure activities feel like luxuries I can't afford, but…I mean, look at what I'm doing right now. And look at what I'm NOT doing (aka vacuuming the living room/family room). On one hand, I know I need better time management, but on the other, I can't just go, go, go without feeling like I'm slowly losing my sanity. It's a balance I have yet to strike.

Tell us about a moment in the 2010s when you thought you were the coolest kid on the block, but looking back, you were just as awkward as the rest of us. You know…I think I'll keep those embarrassing memories to myself.

So, do you adult better with a fancy planner and color-coded schedules, or are you just winging it with Post-it notes and sheer luck? My life is so routine and repetitive that I don't really need a planner/calendar. I also don't have much of an issue remembering important dates, but I will write them down if I feel like there's a chance I might forget them. I guess I'm closer to Post-It notes and sheer luck, but it works because I don't have all that much going on. Just the animal shelter (typically Friday through Tuesday), therapy (every other Wednesday), trips to the Mountain Park (whenever I can fit them in), grocery shopping (usually Wednesday mornings), and outings with my mom (also whenever I can fit them in).

In the 2020s, have you finally mastered the art of adulting, or do you still have an impressive collection of takeout menus and not a clue about cooking? I don't get takeout or go out to eat all that often, but I'm also not much of a cook. Most of my meals involve the microwave in some capacity. I can cook - it's not hard to follow a recipe and wind up with something tasty - but for whatever reason, I just…don't. Part of it is probably eating disorder related, but I don't think that's all of it. I wish I did more cooking - the idea appeals to me, as does the chance to eat even healthier - but instead I just eat the same few meals and snacks over and over again.

Looking back on the 2010s, what was the cringiest song you couldn't stop listening to on your iPod, and did you ever dare to sing it in public? CAUSE EVERY TIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING AND EVERY TIME WE KISS I SWEAR I COULD FLY CAN'T YOU FEEL MY HEART BEAT FAST I WANT THIS TO LAST NEED YOU BY MY SIDE It was apparently released in 2006, but it didn't cross my radar until the 2010s, so. And yeah, it was playing in Walmart a few months ago, and it was all I could do to contain myself.

Are you living the dream of having a fabulous wardrobe that puts fashion bloggers to shame, or is your closet a chaotic mix of hand-me-downs and sale-rack finds? It's a mix of Walmart, thrift store finds, and animal shelter shirts/sweaters. I'm not putting any fashion bloggers to shame, but you can definitely tell where my priorities lie.

Do you miss the simpler times of the 2010s when social media was all about posting selfies, or are you loving the meme culture that dominates the 2020s? I do miss the social media culture of Tumblr and Instagram especially. It felt so much more personal and tight-knit, a true slice of life, and I formed some great online friendships around that time. These days, everything feels so impersonal. Everyone's an influencer, their lives are a walking advertisement, and none of it feels real. I wouldn't even know where to start finding online friends anymore. Sure, some of the content is interesting/inspiring, but the people behind it feel so distant.

Tell us your most epic "adulting fail" moment that made you wish you could just teleport back to your carefree teenage years. Probably my failed attempt to work at the animal shelter back in 2021. I quickly crashed and burned. It didn't make me wish for my teenage days, but it was extremely disheartening, shame inducing, etc. I've been back volunteering there for about a year and a half now, close to full time since mid-July (I think…? I'll come back and edit this if I can find the exact date), and things are mostly stable aside from a few hiccups, but…I don't know. The failure of 2021 still haunts me. I want the animal shelter to be part of my life forever, but the fear of losing it all over again keeps me from taking that final plunge. Hopefully one day…

How do you balance being a responsible adult in the 2020s and still secretly longing for the reckless fun you had in the 2010s? I wasn't having much reckless fun. It was more like reckless self-destruction (that might have seemed like fun at times but...yeah). I'm also not a completely responsible/independent adult. There is a part of me that longs for more down time, and I have a complicated sense of nostalgia for my bed rotting days, but I know going back to that wouldn't make me happy. I'd be bored and restless and miserable just like I was before.

Confess your most significant guilty pleasure from the 2010s that you can't believe you indulged in. No judgment here! Probably conspiracies and all the rabbit holes that came with them. That obsession persisted into the early 2020s as well. I felt so hopeless in my own life that an apocalypse actually sounded like an appealing alternative.

Do you have a "best worst" purchase from the 2010s that you still can't believe you spent money on? No.

In the 2020s, have you upgraded your hangover-curing skills from greasy fast food to some sophisticated avocado toast? No. I just drastically reduced my alcohol intake. These days, I might drink once or twice a year, if even that, and not nearly as much in quantity.

What's your go-to dance move when you hit the dance floor in the 2020s, and did it come from an embarrassing attempt in the 2010s? I've never gone out dancing.

How do you cope with adulting burnout in the 2020s, and does it involve a secret stash of chocolate or a Netflix binge? Even though the animal shelter is my passion and I can't imagine my life without it, I still need time away to recharge. I try to make the most of my days off and do things that genuinely refill my cup or reset my social meter. Make art, visit the Mountain Park, purposeful bed rotting with some trash YouTube, maybe put off some house cleaning if necessary (or tackle it if it will make me feel better - it just depends), etc. I'm also fortunate enough to be in a place where I can take extra days off if I need them, but I try not to resort to that too often. The whole point is to get as accustomed to the grind as I can.

Share the most hilariously awkward Zoom moment you had during the great pandemic of the 2020s. I've never used Zoom.

Looking back on the 2010s, what was the weirdest internet challenge you participated in, and did you regret it immediately? I don't think I've ever participated in an internet challenge… Except for things like NaNoWriMo and Inktober, but those are…idk…more wholesome? Not stupid?

Have you finally embraced the fact that you're an adult, or do you still find yourself wishing you had Hermione Granger's time-turner to go back to simpler times? I have accepted…or have resigned myself to the fact…that I can't go back. Not if I want the possibility of a good life in the future. It's daunting as all hell - sometimes the responsibility is overwhelming, and there's only more to come - but I have to keep pushing forward.

So, did you ever jump on the "juice cleanse" bandwagon in the 2010s, and did you last more than a day before devouring a pizza? No.

How do you handle those moments in the 2020s when you feel like you're just a kid pretending to be an adult? Like the first time I went grocery shopping by myself? That was surreal. As a teen, I used to go to the mall by myself like it was nothing (well, "by myself" with friends lmao), but for some reason, grocery shopping was a whole different (and even somewhat trippy) experience. Even though I'm getting more comfortable going places on my own (mainly therapy and the animal shelter), I still have a strong sense of imposter syndrome.

In the 2010s, what was your worst fashion faux pas that you wish had never seen the light of day? Hmmm. Let's just say I definitely had some…outfits…

Are you now the queen or king of adulting, doling out life advice like Oprah, or are you still secretly calling your mom for help with laundry? I'm still fumbling around and trying to figure it out, and probably fooling absolutely no one.

Looking ahead to the rest of the 2020s, what are your hopes and dreams for your adulting journey, and how will you embrace the chaos with a sense of humor? There's just so much I want to learn/do - from the big stuff all the way down to the minor details. I think the main thing is that I want to be employed at the animal shelter before the 2020s pass. As for embracing chaos with a sense of humor…well, it often feels like hilarity is one thin line away from hysterics, so…while I'm not terrible at it, I surely could be better.

[heelachilleshowl]

Hello tumblr rpc!! I am Achilles, I go by they/he pronouns, I'm twenty four and i'm looking for rp partners as i'm new to the rpc here on tumblr!

I am happy to do fandom and non-fandom rp's, I would prefer doing threads on tumblr but if you want to write in discord I can do that! I typically write in third person and do 3+ paragraphs, you don't need to match length but at least one paragraph so I have something to work with would be appreciated!

If any of the plots I have listed below the cut strike your fancy feel free to dm me to continue plotting! If you like to just jump into things comment the title of one of the plots here with the name of the muse(s) you want to write and I'll write up a starter for you!

"𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬" — It's the 1800's and the son of an esteemed painter has fallen for a Viscount, with whom he has been friends since childhood. This season the Viscount is set to find a wife and his friend must do all he can to support him and hide his breaking heart—all the while also being nagged by his mother to find a wife of his own. (Bridgerton inspired, I'd like to play the painter's son and I'd use either my OC muse Dean, Nikolas or Gabriel. I have no prior experience writing in this time era but Bridgerton is giving me an itch I need to scratch.)

"𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧" — The Juniour Deputy of Hope County is being held hostage by Jacob Seed; Sharky Boshaw—their self appointed best friend—has begun racing across the County attempting to put a small rescue team together. By the time he gathers enough people and charges St Francis, the deputy is already in the middle of their own escape plan. (FC5, I'd love to play Sharky and other resistance members/NPC's, and i'm happy to either play my deputy or Jacob depending on who you'd like to play.)

"𝐀 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨" — Your character breaks down on a desert road with no cell reception, they are picked up by a man called David Thorn and he towes their car to his the nearest gas station which he actually owns and runs—his home being behind it a ways. David offers for them to stay the night in his home seeing as it would take him a while to fix their car. During their stay they experience odd occurances and while David is pleasant the amount of time it's taking for him to fix their car is suspicious. Tensions rise until one morning they wake up in a bunker. (Slasher/Horror inspired, I'd really love to write for my Slasher OC David Thorn even if he's not listed as a muse. This is the only plot/story I see him in and I've been wanting to write it for a year or so, it can lead to death, romance or whatever we see fit.)