#I try at least. I’ve gotten better I hope. not perfect but. better

[dandylovesturtles]

I'm trying to get myself back into writing by doing some little things here and there. This is the first one that is actually worth it to post here lol

Awhile back I asked on discord for suggestions of things I could write and then for a long time I didn't actually do anything lol BUT I finally did something. This ficlet is based on a suggestion @abbeyofcyn gave me about Donnie feeling anxiety over a having a new home post S2 (at least I remember it being Cyn but the message is so old now I can't find it orz I'm sorry if it was someone else)

I hope you enjoy it!

---

The subway station has been closed to the public since the nineties. Most of the ways in are already blocked off, and it will be trivial to finish that work to keep out any intruders. The tracks and maintenance station make an ideal garage and workspace for the tank. The old electrical wiring and water pipes are easily accessible. There’s still functioning toilets in the old bathrooms, and ventilated spaces ideal for cooking. There’s easy access to the street, the rest of the subway system, and the sewers. Splinter hums approvingly as he circles an old staff area with a tape measure. His brothers shout as they call dibs on rusted out train cars. April enthusiastically notes that the station is close to her new campus.

It checks all the boxes on their list, and then some.

So why has the sick feeling in the pit of Donnie’s stomach gotten worse instead of better?

There must be something wrong with it. Some flaw they aren’t seeing, some con they haven’t considered. He needs to go over his lists again; double check and triple check from every angle. They’ve only been here an hour - it would just be irresponsible to make a decision so quickly!

He desperately fires up his tablet again and pulls up his list, scrolling with hard taps as his eyes fly over the compiled criteria. There must be something… Something!

It’s structurally sound. There’s ample space for skateboard ramps and arcade machines. There’s plenty of lighting that will only need simple maintenance to be functional. There’s a big space that can be used for a new lab. It checks all the boxes, but there must be at least one it’s not checking, or why would Donnie’s blood curdle at the thought of actually living here?

The way the air moves through the space is wrong. The way the sounds echo off the walls and floors is unfamiliar. The smell is not the one he spent his whole life inhaling. It’s all wrong in a way that embeds itself in Donnie’s very skin, leaves him feeling slimy and nauseous and off kilter, like everything was just tilted at a dutch angle.

He scrolls to the bottom of the list and taps a few more times to be sure. “Air feels right” and “Echoes are normal” and “Smell is bad” are not boxes to be checked, so it can’t be any of those things. It has to be something else… It has to be something!

He scrolls back to the top of his list. Then he scrolls back to the bottom. He can’t find it. But it has to be there.

“Whoa,” says Leo, and Donnie jolts, his head snapping up. “I’ve never seen Donnie look like he wants to murder a computer before.”

“Please don’t tell Raph that something’s wrong with the structural checks or whatever,” says Raph, just behind Leo. They’re all coming up to him, probably wondering why he’s been standing in the same spot for… 

Donnie glances at his screen and jolts again. Twenty four minutes and thirty seven second!?

“Come on, Dee, this place has got to be perfect,” says Leo. “I already know exactly where I’m putting my action figures in my new digs!”

“And I’m already getting sooo many ideas for graffiti!” says Mikey excitedly, bouncing in place where he stands next to April. “And I can’t wait to design the kitchen layout! I can’t believe I get to start from scratch and do it just how I want!”

“Raph already knows exactly where the dojo is goin’,” Raph joins in. When Leo blows a raspberry, Raph pushes him forward and smirks when he has to catch himself.

“I think this is the best you guys are gonna get,” says April. “Unless you wanna move to the Hidden City.”

“We can’t, Raph still has a warrant for his arrest.”

“I keep tellin’ you guys, that ain’t Raph!”

“I only wish I had known about this place earlier,” comes Splinter’s voice as he joins them. “So much square footage!”

They all start talking excitedly, so fast it blends into a whir in Donnie’s ears. They’ve all already decided, but don’t they see? They can’t live here, because it’s wrong!

“No.”

Donnie’s declaration kills the conversation in its tracks. Everyone stops to look at him, and the sudden attention doesn’t feel as good as it might otherwise.

“No,” he repeats, shaking his head and looking back at his list. “This won’t work.”

A chorus of “What!?” comes from everyone else. Donnie keeps his eyes on his list, scrolling frantically, looking for the problem that he knows is there.

“Is there something wrong with it?” asks April, tone measured.

“Yes,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate, because he doesn’t know what it is yet and how can he answer if he doesn’t have any data?

It’s clear they aren’t going to wait for him to come up with the answer.

“Well what is it? Ventilation? Structural integrity? The wiring? Come on, Dee, give us somethin’.”

“It’s… it’s just wrong. I know it is.” Donnie looks up from his list then, and their skeptical expressions make him coil around his tablet in defense. “We’ve barely seen all of it! How can we know for certain that it will really suit our needs?”

He’s protesting too much, and it’s no surprise when Leo catches on, immediately narrowing his eyes as he hones in on Donnie’s uncertainty. 

“You’ve said no to every place we’ve looked at, dude! Are your standards that high, or do you just like living in Barry’s crappy apartment that much?”

“I obviously do not,” Donnie snaps, because he has made no secret of the fact that he hates it there. Sure, it was nice of Draxum to take them in now that they’re homeless and all that, but the apartment is too small, and the sheets are too scratchy, and the way the air conditioner sounds is all wrong, and the street noises bother Donnie at night…

Of course he doesn’t want to keep living there! He never wanted to live there in the first place!

“Then what’s the problem?” Leo asks, folding his arms, and Donnie scowls back.

“I just think we shouldn’t rush into such a big decision just because it sucks to live in Draxum’s apartment,” he reasons, reasonably because he’s being very reasonable!

“And what, wait for our realtor to find us a few more listings?” Leo says with heavy snark. 

“Leo,” says Raph with a warning tone, before looking back at Donnie. “Look, we can take tonight to think about it,” he suggests. “But if there’s nothing really wrong with it, I think this is gonna be the best we can do.”

Donnie shrinks back. “You say we’ll take tonight to think about it, but you’ve all already decided.” He shakes his head. “But I’m telling you, we can’t live here. It’s wrong.”

“Donnie…” Mikey’s hand touches Donnie’s elbow, and it takes everything in him not to jerk it away. “Is there an actual problem with the place, or is this a feelings problem?”

Donnie jerks away.

Then he turns and sprints away down the nearest subway tunnel.

…

He only makes it to the next condemned platform before he collapses against the wall, panting. Maybe he really should take up Raph’s advice to do more cardio… If he can ever face any of them again, that is.

He sinks to the ground and rests his chin on his knees, looking around at the unfamiliar scenery. He knew the old tunnels of his home like he knew the curves and grooves in his favorite wrench. But his favorite wrench is lost forever under an insurmountable amount of rubble, and the tunnels around him are foreign and imposing.

He doesn’t want to live in Draxum’s apartment anymore.

But he doesn’t want to live here.

He wants to go home.

The ugly, bitter feeling in his stomach twists again, and he groans and presses his face into his knees, covering his head with his arms. He knows exactly what would fix this, and it’s something he can’t have.

He did the tests himself, over and over again. He knows that their old home would take years, decades to make livable again. They simply can’t fix it. It’s too big to be fixed.

Which means he cannot be fixed.

The understanding that he’ll feel this way forever washes over Donnie, leaving him desolated. How is he ever supposed to function again?

How can the rest of his family move on so easily when he’s still like this?

Footsteps echo off the walls, and he tenses up, curling tighter into himself. It’s no surprise that one of them came after him. He’s just glad it’s only one set of footsteps, and not five.

He doesn’t look up as they draw close. He doesn’t have to. A barefooted tread, light and airy with a bit of a hop to it even when the mood is somber. He’d know it anywhere.

Mikey plops down next to him and says, “Ready to talk to Doctor Feelings?”

Donnie shakes his head without looking up.

Mikey hums. “Wanna talk to Doctor Delicate Touch?”

Donnie shakes his head harder.

There’s a shuffle, and then warmth against Donnie’s side. “Wanna talk to your favorite little brother in the whole wide world?”

Donnie finally lifts his head enough to look at Mikey with one eye. “Winning by default isn’t something to brag about,” he notes.

A huge grin crosses Mikey’s face. “Hey, there you are!”

“Here I am,” Donnie notes dryly, and it sounds miserable even to his own ears.

Mikey’s expression falls into something more soft. He scoots around to Donnie’s front, then says, “You’re homesick.”

Homesick feels too small for the dark feelings that are swallowing Donnie whole. It’s just not enough.

“...I don’t want to live somewhere new,” he says, and it sounds like, I don’t want everything to be different.

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” says Mikey, even though Donnie knows he can’t be feeling it like this, or at least hopes his little brother isn’t. “You’ll get used to it, though!”

It almost makes Donnie laugh. He can’t begin to imagine it ever feeling anything but terrible. “How do you know?”

“Because I have experience,” says Mikey breezily, like it’s obvious. 

Donnie hopes the skepticism shows on his face. “Really? Micheal, we were both too young when Papa moved us to the lair.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember that. But I do remember when we all got our own rooms!”

Donnie considers that with some surprise. He vaguely remembers that… mostly because he was happy that Raph and Leo couldn’t put their stuff on his side anymore. “Ah yes. A joyous day for all of us.”

“Well it wasn’t too happy for me!” Mikey retorts, folding his arms. “I didn’t want any of us to get our own rooms. I… wasn’t ready to be without you guys.”

Actually, now that Mikey says that, Donnie does remember that part of it. “I also remember that you weren’t without us, because you slept in one of our rooms every night for two months.”

Mikey nods seriously. “Yeah! Because I wasn’t ready for change!”

“And we had to make a rotating chart so that each of us could get a full night of sleep once in a while.”

“Huh?” Mikey pouts. “What do you mean? I sleep like an angel!”

“Kicking and chewing on anything in grabbing distance seems more like demon behavior,” Donnie notes, and Mikey huffs and makes a big show of being offended. 

“The point, Donald,” he stresses, “is that it was a big change! And I wasn’t happy about it for a loooong time.” He leans back. “I didn’t get why you guys were so happy about moving out when I wasn’t. It felt like you were all leaving me behind.”

Donnie frowns. “But we were literally a few feet away,” he notes. “As you proved nightly.”

Mikey points at him excitedly. “Exactly! It was a big change, but I still had you guys. And eventually, you guys helped me get excited about it, too.”

Donnie tries to remember what exactly they did to accomplish that, but… “All I remember is that we helped you hang up your finger paintings and put glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling.”

“Yep!” Mikey nods sagely. “You helped make it my own. I got where I was excited to be in my room, because it was how I wanted it to be!” He falters, tapping his chin. “And also I remember Leo said something about all my toys being sad if they were alone in my room at night…”

“Ah. Manipulative tactics,” Donnie observes.

“But that’s not the point! The point is that when I made it my own, change wasn’t so scary anymore.” He waves back down the tunnel. “And that’s what’s going to work for you, too! Because you’re going to build yourself a big new lab and decorate your room just how you want it, and you’re going to love it!”

Donnie feels absolutely no confidence in that. The idea of building a new lab, of decorating his room, of getting used to the new space, doesn’t fill him with excitement. There is only dread there, and exhaustion, and an insurmountable realization that nothing is ever going to be the same as it was before.

“That might work for you,” he says softly, tiredly. “But I don’t think it will for me. I don’t think I will ever stop feeling…” 

He still doesn’t know what to call this. 

“...Homesick.”

“But you will,” says Mikey, putting a hand on his arm. This time, Donnie doesn’t jerk away. “You know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because you went through it with the rooms too, Dee.”

Donnie scoffs, shaking his head. “I was glad to have my own room,” he asserts. “The rest of you kept getting your things into my space. It was annoying.”

“Sure, maybe you were happy about that part,” says Mikey simply, “but do you remember the big storm? The first one after we moved into our rooms, that was sooo loud we could hear it?”

Again, Donnie thinks he vaguely recalls something like that. It clearly didn’t leave as large an impression on him as it did on Mikey, though.

“I… might,” he says.

“I remember,” says Mikey, “that I was so scared, I ran straight to Raph’s room! And he was already awake, and he was under the covers, and we made a tent together.” He giggles. “And then you came in, and then Leo! And I realized then, maybe you guys weren’t really as happy about sleeping in separate rooms as I thought.”

He shifts around again, pressing himself into Donnie’s side.

“We went through that all together. And we’re gonna go through this together, too. And that’s how I know it’ll be okay!”

Donnie can’t help but make a skeptical noise. He’s not sure it will be. It just feels like too much.

“We’re all homesick, too,” Mikey confides. “We show it different than you… But we are. We’re going through it with you.”

Donnie knows they miss home, too. He knows that. But still…

“What if you’re wrong,” he says, “and it’s not okay?”

“Then…” Mikey trails off, thinking. “Then I’ll use the money I saved up to buy you that limited edition Atomic Lass figure you wanted!”

Donnie twists his head to stare at him. “That figure currently values at eight hundred and fifty dollars,” he says.

Mikey grimaces. “I will give you all the money I have saved up to help you buy it!” he amends.

Donnie snorts. Then he laughs. Then he leans into the warmth of his little brother.

He doesn’t want to live somewhere new… but it won’t be entirely new. His family will still be there. Just a few steps away.

“Does the laughing mean you’ll come back with me?” asks Mikey. “Because this tunnel is cold.”

Donnie snorts again. “I will go back with you,” he agrees, “because I actually don’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Yes! I did it!” Mikey hops to his feet, extending a hand. “Another W for Doctor Feelings!”

“Winning by default is nothing to brag about,” says Donnie again. But he takes Mikey’s hand, and they go back to the station together.

[bibittybopittybadbxtch]

Behave

Pairing: Poly!Woosan x Reader

Summary: You and Wooyoung knew exactly what you were doing. San had given both one simple instruction. Behave. That’s all he asked of you. But he should’ve known better. He knew you both better than that. There was nothing the two of you loved more than ruffling his feathers.

Warnings: SMUT BELOW THE CUT, MDNI, 18+, Petnames (Baby, Princess, etc…), Honorifics (Daddy,Sir), Slight Oral (F receiving), Dirty Talk, Spanking, Safe Word Referencing

Word Count: ~2K

A/N: Hi loves! I’ve gotten into Ateez recently. I’m a HUGE woosan shipper. I also LOVE a good MMF threesome. Thus this imagine was born. I hope you enjoy. Likes, positive Comments, Reblogs are always welcome!

XO,Bibi 🩷

P.S.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It started subtly. Wooyoung dragged you to the dance floor. Which was not unusual. He was always trying to get you to open up a little. Your boyfriend was persuasive. So when San saw him drag you to the floor, he was not concerned. He knew you would keep Wooyoung semi-calm. He wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you, it would betray your trust and make you revert into your shell. He didn’t want that. Even knowing this San kept an eye on you both. He liked having an eye on his babies at all times. Always ready to jump in if needed. He admired you both from a distance. Your arms hung around Wooyoung’s neck as you danced to the beat.

The club was full of various celebrities. He had looked away for no more than a second when loud whooping caught his attention. He turned back to the dance floor to find you and Woo again. As his eyes scan the crowd, he catches your eye. The glint in your eyes is a familiar one, but it’s foreign to your face. It’s the look Wooyoung gets when he’s about to stir up trouble. Usually, the only time you acted out was with a little misguidance from Wooyoung. Typically you were his perfect girl. San watches you for a second more before moving his eyes to Woo’s face. Wooyoung’s expression is devious. Then San realizes what song was playing. It was your favorite. The three of you listened to it in the house frequently. Grinding on each other, hands everywhere. It was something he never thought he’d see you do in public, and he was perfectly okay with that. San watches as you dance seductively to the song. You’ve turned around dancing on Wooyoung. Your hands are wrapped around the back of his neck, with your fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. Suddenly you let go of Wooyoung’s neck. This puts San in motion. He knows what you’re about to do. He sees you bend over and start grinding against Wooyoung’s hardening dick. Wooyoung is smirking at him as he grabs your hips and gently starts grinding with you.

San will reach you soon after. He can’t make a scene, the club is packed. Someone would say something. He moves behind Wooyoung and whispers in his ear. “Step back or you won’t cum for a month.” Woo moves in the blink of an eye. He stands back and watches San approach you. You barely notice them switching places, but when you feel San’s familiar hands you move to stand up straight. Even when you were being a brat, you were still his good girl. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “Baby, I can’t believe you let Wooyoungie talk you into trouble.” You whip your head around to protest. He cuts you off before you can open your mouth. “Nope. Outside. Both of you. Now.” You know you’re in trouble.

The car ride home is silent. There’s music playing on the radio but you can’t focus on that. You wanna know what San is going to do to you and Wooyoung? You look over at Wooyoung who is sitting next to you. He doesn’t look the least bit sorry. He’s smirking out the window to himself. You look over at San, he’s on his phone. He looks up when he feels your eyes and winks at you. Which doesn’t ease your nerves. You know you’re in for a long night. When the car comes to a stop San steps out first and helps you out, while Wooyoung gets out on the other side. The three of you walk into the house after San unlocks the door. You stand in the mud room removing your shoes when San speaks. “I want both of you to strip completely, and wait for me on the bed.” After removing your shoes, you begin to head towards the main door of the house. “Where are you going” San asks with a tilt of his head. “Um…to the room?” you ask him confused, behind you Wooyoung snickers. You turn around to look at him, he’s already taken off his shirt. Then it dawns on you. San wants you to strip here, and then walk through the house naked. You turn back to him shocked. He chuckles at the look on your face, “Go on Baby, get naked for me.” He leans against the door frame and folds his arms, looking at you expectantly. “Here let me help.” you hear Woo offer. You feel his hands on your back before you feel the zipper come undone. Your dress falls to the floor and you turn to thank him. Turning back around you look San in the eye. “Sannie, please. I’m shy.” His face doesn’t change. “It’s just me and Wooyoungie, Baby. There’s nothing to be shy about. Be a good girl for me, huh?” He reassures you. You want to please him, especially after the stunt you pulled. So you remove your underwear garments. You and Wooyoung walk past San and head upstairs. He watches you both before heading into the kitchen.

Upstairs you and Wooyoung are sitting on the bed waiting for San. “Calm down. He’s never done anything we didn’t like and he’d never actually hurt us.” Woo says from beside you. You glance in his direction. “Shut up, because you said we wouldn’t get in trouble.” You see his eyes darken and you know you’ve made a mistake. Even though you both were submissive in regard to San, Wooyoung was still a switch. When it was just the two of you together Woo took control, he was your Daddy. Wooyoung grips your chin and forces you to look into his eyes. “Hey. Watch it, I said we wouldn’t get in trouble for dancing a little sexy. No one told you to bend over and grind your ass into my dick. That was all you Princess.” He’s right. You don’t know where the sudden boost of brattiness came from. You look up at him through your lashes and apologize. “Sorry, Daddy.” He kisses you swiftly on the lips before releasing you. You can hear shuffling around in the kitchen before he begins to climb the stairs.

San walks into the room and smiles at the two of you. He kisses you both on the forehead before stepping back and leaning against the dresser. “Whose idea was it?” he asks simply. Wooyoung quickly glances at you before slowly beginning to raise his hand. But you beat him to it, “It was me! Wooyoungie said we could dance. But the song took over my body.” Wooyoung can’t help but laugh at your sincerity. San cuts his eyes over to him and Wooyoung closes his mouth immediately. San looks back at you. “Baby I’m so surprised at you. I asked you to behave.” He has a mischievous look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sir.” He nods silently at you. “Wooyoungie, come stand over here.” Woo gets up, as he and San switch places. San sits next to you before patting his lap, “Come here, Baby.” You stand up to sit on his lap, but he stops you. “No. Lay over my knee.” A spanking. You had never gotten one from San. Wooyoung had given you a few, you tended to act out more with him. But Sannie had never spanked you before. Hesitantly you descend over his knee. “I’m gonna give you ten spanks, but first I need to know that you understand why this is happening. I also need to know that this is okay.” With your head down you begin to speak. “I’m in trouble for taking it too far on the dance floor. I was taunting you on purpose. My color is green, Sir.”

You made it through your spanking with minimal tears. When San lets you up, he wipes your tears before addressing you. “You did so well from me, girl.” You smile shyly before nodding. He continues talking, “I think Wooyoungie enjoyed watching you get your punishment, isn’t that right my love?” You turn to see Wooyoung looking at you with lust-filled eyes, his hand is slowly stroking his hardened cock. He blinks a few times before responding, “Yes, Sir.” San chuckles at his boyfriend, “Well, now it’s your turn to be punished.” Wooyoung looks surprised by this statement. San smirks at him. “You didn’t think you’d get off easy, did you? I know it was initially your idea, and you could’ve stopped her. Hands behind your back.” San moves you to straddle his lap before whispering in your ear, “Let’s give your Daddy a show.” He pulls you in and kisses you deeply. He slips his tongue in your mouth, you moan and you hear Woo whimper behind you. San pulls away and looks over your shoulder. “Where did I tell you to put your hands?” You turn your head to see Wooyoung playing with his leaking member. “Since you can’t seem to listen tonight let me help you.” San moves you off his lap and to the bed. He instructs you to lie back before he approaches Wooyoung. He reaches the drawer beside the smaller man’s form. He bites his ear before pulling out a silk scarf. “This will help you be still and resist temptation.” Wooyoung makes a sound of protest as San ties his wrists behind his back.

You watch the scene unfold and it makes you wet. Wooyoung is always so dominant with you. Watching him be so submissive with San turned you on. San takes Wooyoung’s chin in his hands and gives him a sloppy kiss before returning to you. He approaches you like a lion on the prowl. He climbs on top of you and resumes where he left off. Kisses your lips before moving to your neck. you can feel him leaving a hickey before he pulls back to pull off his clothes. He begins to kiss down your body, before finding the juncture between your thighs soaking wet.

He swipes a finger through your folds and brings it to his lips. He moans as he sticks his fingers in his mouth tasting you. “Baby you taste so good.” He turns around at the sound of Wooyoung whimpering loudly. “Hush. Be a good boy, you’ll get what you want. Just take your punishment and watch. Be patient” The younger boy lets out a small huff before putting his head down. San turns back around before reaching over to the nightstand and pulling out a bottle of lube. He spreads the liquid over his dick, before positioning himself at your entrance. “Are you ready, Baby?” he addresses you with a smile. “Yes, Sir,” you answer and moan as he pushes himself in completely. San fucks you like he’s waited his whole life to do so. Not too rough, Not too slow. Absolutely perfect. His just barely fits. He’s thicker than Wooyoung is. But their length is about the same. The tip brushes your g-spot with every stroke. The three of you create a beautiful symphony with your moans. You can see over San’s shoulder that Wooyoung has his thighs pressed together trying to create some relief for himself. His tip is red and leaking precum. “Sir, I’m about to cum. Please, let me cum” you beg San. “That’s it Baby, cum for me.” He slams into you and you feel yourself release with him inside. The pressure from your relief triggers San’s. You feel him paint your insides with hot ropes of cum. He slumps against your shoulder. He catches his breath before biting your shoulder and pulling back. He smirks at you before asking “You think it’s time for Wooyoungie to join us?” You look over at Wooyoung and smile. “Yes, please.”

THE END.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

could I request an Ian hecox x reader where it’s an established relationship and reader also works at smosh!? Ty + I love your writing so much!!! Please take care and take your time :)

Fishy || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: you and ian have been dating for some time now, sneaking around so no one in the office knows you’re seeing each other. but when you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, you’re forced to reveal your relationship to your coworkers

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

a/n: hello love!! i hope you enjoy this + the way i went with it. it’s a little short but it gets the job done i think. i love ian sm 🤭

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     “Hey you.”

     You spun around to find Ian, your boyfriend, standing behind you.

      He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a kiss.

     “Ian,” you whispered. “Not here.”

     You were in the middle of the Smosh studio. Well, not exactly in the middle. More like a secluded corner. But still, anyone could walk in.

      “Man, you eat a few garlic fries and suddenly it’s—”

     You laughed, interrupting him. “You know it’s not that.”

     It wasn’t that you didn’t want anyone to know that you were dating Ian. In fact, if any of your coworkers were perceptive at all they would’ve noticed by now. You’d come to work wearing something of Ian’s too many times to count.

     But nobody had noticed yet and you just weren’t exactly eager to tell them. That way you were spared all the dating your boss jokes. 

     “I could send everyone home,” Ian shrugged. 

     “You’re impossible,” you smiled, rolling your eyes at him. 

     “Or a genius,” he countered, tucking your hair behind your ear.

     You leaned into his touch, wishing this could last forever.

     Suddenly, you heard the sounds of voices coming towards you. Your friends must have just gotten done with a shoot.

     You quickly stepped away from Ian, leaving a safe distance between you. 

     You felt Ian flinch. You hated it too, but it was better this way. Or, that’s what you told yourself.

     Courtney was the first one to round the corner, smiling when she saw the two of you. “Hey, my guys! You ready?”

     You’d almost forgotten. Some of you had planned on going to lunch after filming was over that day. You couldn’t believe it was already that time—the day had flown by.

     “Definitely,” you shot Courtney a thumbs up. 

     “I’m starving,” Shayne came up behind his wife, throwing his arm around her shoulder. “All I’ve eaten today is Garret’s weird peanut butter pasta.”

     “I didn’t think it was that bad,” Anthony admitted, standing beside them. “It was flavorful, at least.”

     “And oddly fishy,” Angela added, making a face as she followed.

     “Oh that was the Anchovy paste,” Chanse said. “And I liked it, Garret let me keep the jar.”

     “This coming from Mr. Lube,” Ian mock- whispered and everybody laughed.

     “Laugh all you want, but it came in handy last weekend,” Chanse crossed his arms.

     “Which reminds me,” Courtney turned to you, “Jonah’s coming with us to lunch with us!”

     You felt your face pale. “What?”

     “What does that have to do with lube?” You heard Angela mutter to Chanse.

     “You remember, the guy I was talking about that would be perfect for you? I invited him so you two can officially meet,” she beamed.

     You saw a muscle in Ian’s jaw tick as you tried to fake a smile. 

     You had forgotten about that too. A couple weeks ago, Courtney had mentioned one of her friends who had just moved to the area. She kept going on about how he was kind and funny and something about your signs being compatible. 

     You knew Courtney had no idea that you and Ian were in relationship, otherwise she definitely wouldn’t be trying to set you up with another guy.

     You had panicked in trying to cover up your’s and Ian’s relationship and told her that you’d love to go out with him sometime.   You kinda hadn’t thought anything would actually come of it. 

    “Court, I don’t know,” You started. “Maybe some other time or—”

     “It’s already done,” she said, “Trust me, I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I didn’t think you would hit it off with immediately.”

     There was nothing you could do but smile and say, “Alright.”

     You couldn’t tell her why you suddenly had changed your mind about wanting to go out with her friend. Not without revealing your secret relationship. And you couldn’t not go to the lunch, not without raising everyone’s suspicions. 

     You looked at Ian and he shrugged. Anthony caught your eye and he gave you a reassuring smile.

     He was the only one at Smosh that knew about you and Ian. Being Ian’s best friend he said he just knew these things.

     That, and he’d caught you one time in the break room. 

     “Well, yay!” Courtney exclaimed. “Let’s go then.”

     All of you began walking towards the door. You hung back so you could talk to Ian without anyone hearing your conversation. 

     “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

     “Hey, it’s not your fault,” he said, letting his fingers brush yours as you walked. “Just, you know, be really repulsive so he doesn’t want to go out with you.”

     You chuckled, “I’ll try my best. Where are some of those garlic fries when you need them?”

     You grabbed Ian’s hand, linking your fingers together, safe behind everyone else.    

     Anthony turned around, smiling at the two of you. 

     You took a deep breath, looking at Ian, and praying you could get through this lunch unscathed. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

      “Ok, is it just me, or does everything taste like fish?” Angela asked, dipping a fry in ketchup and holding it out in front of her.

     “It’s just you,” You took the fry out of her hand, popping it into your mouth.

      You sat at a table, an array of food and drinks atop it, Ian on one side of you and Jonah on the other.

      Of course it had worked out that way. 

      Jonah had tried to talk to you throughout the whole lunch—why wouldn’t he? as far as he knew this was supposed to be a date?—and you had tried to act as politely disinterested as possible.

     Now, he turned to you, asking, “So, are you more of a ketchup or a mustard  person?”

     “Um, I like both,” you answered. “Depends on what I’m eating.”

     “Me, I can’t stand mustard,” the man said, “Not since the shark incident of 4th grade.”

     He began telling you the story and you promptly spaced out. You looked across the table. Shayne and Courtney were deep in a conversation and Angela was putting fries in her mouth and imitating a walrus to an annoyed Chanse. 

     Next to you, Ian was talking to Anthony in a low voice. 

     “And so anyways, needless to say I don’t where orange pants on Tuesday’s anymore,” Jonah was saying. 

     You nodded, realizing you’d missed most of whatever he was saying. 

     You turned to Ian. He smiled at you and grabbed your hand under the table. You looked round to make sure no one had seen the exchange.

     But everyone was fully engrossed in their conversations. Except for the man next to you.

     “So,” he started, and you gave him credit for trying to make conversation, even as you were practically ignoring him, so as not to give him the wrong idea. “Do you come to this place often?”

     “First time I’ve been,” you said. “But the fries are killer, I may have to come back.”

     “Maybe we could come back together,” he answered. 

     You felt Ian grip your hand tighter under the table.

     “Oh,” you fumbled for words. “Maybe. But I’m going to be pretty busy with work for a while. You might want to go with someone else, no use waiting on me.”

     “And if I want to wait on you?” He almost whispered. 

     “I’m flattered,” you managed. “But I’m just not really looking to date right—”

     “Courtney told me you were looking for a serious relationship,” Jonah accused.

     Of course she had. You had basically told her as much.

     “Courtney may have gotten the wrong idea,” you said, “I’m not really interested in a relationship, of any kind, at the moment.”

     “What?” Courtney asked. She must have heard her name and now was waiting for a response. The whole table was, it looked like.

     “I lied,” you said. “I’m not looking to date—I can’t date.”

     “Why not?” 

     You took a deep breath. “Jonah, you seem like a great—”

     If not a little pushy

     “—person, but I can’t go out with you. With anyone. Because…”

     You looked to Ian for help, nodding ever- so-slightly. He smiled back at you, as if to say go for it. You watched as everyone’s eyes were on you. Now was a good a time as any.

     “Because I’m already seeing someone,”you blurted out.

     “Oh!” Courtney exclaimed. “Well, that’s great! Can I ask who?”

     “He lives kinda far away,” Anthony interrupted quickly, looking at you. “Right, (Y/n)? You probably wouldn’t—”

     You shook your head, silently thanking him for being willing to help, but knowing you might as well spill the beans now.

     “I’m—” You stared, but Ian beat you to it.

     “It’s me,” Ian said. “(Y/n) is dating me.”

     Everyone’s shocked expressions moved back and forth between you and Ian.

     He lifted your linked hands from under the table, as if it was some kind of proof. You supposed it was.

     “That’s right,” Ian said, pointing at you and looking around at all of your friends. “I’m the lucky guy who gets to get with this.”

     “We were waiting for a good time to tell you guys,” you said, rolling your eyes at Ian. “And, surprise!”

     “You’re dating?” Anthony over-dramatized. “This is news to me!”

     “Anthony, shut up, you knew the whole time,” Ian waved him off.

     “Wow,” Shayne ran a hand through his hair. “Congratulations you guys. I have like four—no, five!—jokes I could—”

     You raised an eyebrow at him.

     “Later,” he corrected, leaning back in his chair as Courtney patted his arm. “It can wait till later.”

     “I had no idea,” Courtney turned to you. “I totally didn’t mean to encourage you to cheat.”

     “I know,” you assured her.

     “Yeah, well, I’m going to take off,” Jonah said, standing up. “Later Courtney. Nice meeting you (Y/n).”

     “You know, I’m not sure I liked him,” Chanse crossed his arms. 

     He left the table and Courtney leaned in. “You know, the more I think about it, the more I’m starting to feel like you’re not perfect for each other.”

     Your whole table burst into laughter, before quieting down again.

     You turned to face Ian. You felt lighter than you had in a while. As fun as it was sneaking around, it would be a lot more fun not having to hide your relationship from your friends. 

     “So,” you started.

     “So,” Ian agreed.

     “I think there’s only one thing left to do,” you told him. 

     “Eat Jonah’s food?” Ian joked.

     But you just shook your head, leaning in and kissing him on the lips.

     Your friends whooped and hollered, enjoying the moment with you. 

     You pulled away from Ian gently, his arm still around your shoulder. 

     You loved Ian so much. 

     And you thought your coworkers reaction was something? Wait until the fans found out. 

     Because you would tell them—in due time. In fact, you had all the time in the world. Right now, you just let yourself enjoy this moment, surrounded by people you love.

     “Okay, taste this celery,” Angela said, as she held out the stalk. You’d almost forgotten she was there—she had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time.

     “You can’t tell me it doesn’t taste fishy!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ahh hope you enjoyed my babes 💋 stay tuned for another ian fic coming soon!!

[inkofthebrain]

GLUTTONY

[Lee (Bones and All) x Reader]

Warnings: Typical Bones and All things

Tags: No Maren (sorry bae ily) Mentions of religion/religious trauma, drugs & alcohol, no use of y/n, blue truck lives, future series, more tags will be added, briefly proofread

It was always nauseating, but you were thrown in such a frenzy that it was impossible to stop. A carving never to be quenched. You always believed you could change, maybe one day you will forgive yourself.

Hope has always been a sticky game. You, especially, used it to lure your victims. A guy at a bar grabbing your ass a few times before slipping something into your drink “hoping” to get lucky? You are observant. You always had to be. You knew his intentions before he could even begin to initiate the sick action.

You just so happened to have been dumped in a small town In the middle of nowhere northwest by a ride you managed to pick up in North Cali. There was talk of some animal killing a few of the locals and their pets. A perfect cover.

You let him take you home, pretending to be drunk off your ass, and then you pounced on him. Not even 10 feet into the house. You had struck him down with a lamp and started eating.

His flesh was warm and blood entered your mouth in a rush as you ripped it from his body, at this point the blood loss and pain had rendered him unconscious. It felt heavenly, it felt blasphemous.

As you stand above the man, half eaten and mauled, you turn your gaze to the cross above the door. There was no god. You learnt this early on.

No matter how often your mother tried to bash it into your head it would not click. You were an odd child born out of wedlock in a small religious town. You had always kept to yourself. Whether that was of your own doing or your mothers was something you had yet to figure out.

Your mother knew what you were, you had a sister. Your father had gotten to her and your mother had gotten to him.

The rest of your adolescence was spent in rebellion, but the night before your 18th birthday your mother quickly packed up a few things, took you up north for a “trip” and before you even woke up in the mildew smelling motel; she was gone.

Months later, here you were, walking along the interstate until you passed an abandoned barn and a familiar smell filled your nostrils. What you had thought was just your fathers cologne was here, in the middle of nowhere, emanating from a barn.

Your curiosity and better judgment bashed against one another as your legs gained a mind of their own and you crept closer, taking deep breaths and trying to pinpoint the source. Every nerve in your body was on fire when a figure emerged from behind the rickety wood.

“He's a few yards back if you wanna…” He looked to be at least a head taller than you and scrawny. With what was illuminated in the moonlight you were able to see the dirty ripped jeans he had on, or at least what was left of them, and a slight tinge of red in his hair that matched the red staining his skin.

“Were you..” you trailed off.

“I smelt you a few yards before you walked up” He says bluntly before beginning to walk away.

“I didn’t know I could do that” you said quietly, eyes following the strange man.

“Yeah well, ya can. He’s back there if you want a bite. I’m heading out of here” He says while walking, his strides were long but staggered due to his slight stumbling in the dark brush.

Before you could stop yourself you were jogging to catch up to him, staying a few feet back. You began to look around at your surroundings, the trees, the light from the moon shining through the overcast. Soon your body collided with a warm figure.

“Sorry” you said before taking a step back, he turned to face you, “it’s just, I ran out of money a few days ago and I’ve been walking trying to catch a ride since”

“So you want to ride with me?” He asks mockingly and you nod your head.

“I just need to get to the next town” You say, kicking some of the dirt below your feet, “Please?”

“What do I get out of it, huh?” He asks. You look up to meet his eyes before turning on your heels and walking away.

“Forget it, I knew it was a stupid idea” you grumbled as the sound of dried leaves crunched below your feet. It’s early fall and you need to find a town soon. Before the nights started getting too cold. Maybe you could wait for him to leave and hole up in the barn.

“I’m lee.” It was then you really noticed his voice. He sounded to be about your age but he had a sultry rasp that poked out when he spoke in a low tone. You stop in your tracks for a beat and say your name before walking on.

“I’m not an asshole you know,” he shouts out, “I just don’t meet many others”

You turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. The entire conversation seems redundant yet he keeps dragging it on.

“Ok”

“Ok.” He responded before clapping his hands together and taking a breath, he had taken a few strides closer. “I’ll give you a ride into town, I’ll get you a bite to eat—actual food. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“I haven't,” you retorted. His demeanor was odd, he had an awkward posture and it was difficult to read his tone, much less his facial expressions in the dark.

“My car is this way.” He said before spitting a glob of blood onto the floor and turning away.

After watching him walk a few feet ahead you followed behind, keeping your eyes on his figure. Soon enough a truck entered your field of vision and as the two of you approached closer you could make out its tattered blue paint job.

Lee opened the door before grabbing a bag that was sitting in the cab and threw it in the truck bed before climbing in. He motioned for you to hurry up, and you did.

Once you made your way around and into the car you noted the smell of cigarettes and the tattered leather seats. The smell must be sticking to the leather.

“You’re a quiet one, aren't ya” he said as he started the car.

“I just don’t have anything to say” you shrugged your shoulders, looking ahead at the dark road.

“I don’t believe that” And with that we were on our way.

———

Next chapter (coming soon…)

Wanna join the Tag-list? Just ask!

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

A New Hobby

Character: Nam Gyu X fem!reader

Summary: You try to teach Nam-Gyu how to bake, but he keeps making a mess and eating the ingredients instead of following the recipe.

Warnings:none🦑🦑

You were determined to share one of your favorite hobbies with Nam-Gyu: baking. The two of you had spent countless evenings together in the kitchen, but this time, you’d decided to try something new—a homemade cake from scratch.

“Okay, let’s start simple,” you said, holding up the ingredients. “We need flour, sugar, butter, eggs… You think you can handle it?”

Nam-Gyu grinned mischievously. “Of course I can. How hard can it be?”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but hopeful. “Famous last words…”

The first few minutes went smoothly, with him following your instructions to add the dry ingredients. But as soon as you turned your back to grab the eggs, you heard him snickering.

“You’re not supposed to eat the flour!” you exclaimed, turning around to see him with a spoonful of the powder in his mouth.

“It’s fine, I was just... testing it,” Nam-Gyu said, looking sheepish but still holding the spoon like a guilty child caught in the act. “Anyway, you said it’s the basic ingredient, so it must be good, right?”

You sighed, but couldn’t hide your smile. “That’s not how this works, but fine. Just… help me crack the eggs.”

You handed him the carton, and his eyes widened at the sight of the eggs. With too much enthusiasm, he tried to crack one against the edge of the bowl, but it slipped from his hand and landed on the floor with a squelch. Nam-Gyu winced and looked down at the mess. “Oops.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to keep your composure. “Alright, alright. I guess I’ll clean that up—just please, no more cracking eggs with your hands.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Not my fault you have delicate eggs.”

Despite the chaos, you had to admit he was amusing to watch, his clumsiness only adding to the charm of the moment. As you began mixing the batter, you noticed that Nam-Gyu was sneaking more and more ingredients, particularly the chocolate chips you had set aside for decoration.

“Nam-Gyu!” You turned sharply, only to catch him mid-chew. “Those aren’t for you!”

He swallowed, grinning like a child who had just gotten away with something. “What? I was making sure they were fresh. You know, for the cake.”

You snorted in disbelief, shaking your head as you continued working. At least he was having fun, even if it wasn’t exactly the lesson you’d intended. After a while, the batter was finally ready—though it was a little more clumpy than you’d hoped, thanks to all the interruptions.

With the cake in the oven, you turned to him, watching as he leaned against the counter, licking chocolate from his fingers. “I have to admit, you’re not great at following instructions.”

“Hey, I’m getting better,” he said confidently, his mischievous grin returning. “I mean, look at how much I’ve improved”

You shot him a playful glare, but deep down, you loved the lighthearted energy he brought to everything. As the timer went off and you pulled the cake from the oven, you both looked at the result: slightly lopsided, with a few burns here and there—but somehow, it was perfect.

“Well, I think it still looks good,” Nam-Gyu said, grabbing a fork before you even had the chance to frost it. “I mean, you know, I’ve helped.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “We’ll call it a ‘Nam-Gyu Special,’ and next time, you’re definitely sticking to the recipe.”

He simply grinned. “I can’t promise that.”

And as you both sat down to enjoy your creation, messy as it was, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, baking together was a hobby you’d never give up—especially if it meant laughing through the chaos with Nam-Gyu by your side.

🦑🦑🦑

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 27 - Voiceless, “I have no mouth and I must scream”

I feel like I’ve been mean to Wind a lot heh, I feel bad for the little guy. It’s better than the three arrows I put in his chest in that other fic! ...Maybe, anyway.

Warnings: redeads

Ao3 link

————————————————————

Wind was not happy.

He struggled and kicked, tried to squirm out of the bruising hold on his arms, went limp and tried to just give the two soldiers dragging him along some underground passageway as worse of a time as possible. They’d already taken his weapons and only held him tighter as he struggled, but Wind kept it up anyway.

One of the Yiga grumbled in annoyance as Wind kicked at his legs, and he felt a glint of satisfaction.

“Rotten kid, that attitude will die plenty quick where you’re going,” the other Yiga snapped, ignoring Wind’s attempts to bite him. “This cell was for the hero, but what better way to lure him there than to dump his little brother in it first?”

“You built a cell underneath the outskirts of a village? Wow, that’s normal well-adjusted behavior,” Wind huffed, and one Yiga sneered.

“We merely adapted it for our purposes. And you’re the perfect person to test it out.”

Wind finally managed to clamp his jaws down on one of the soldier’s hands, and he yelled, gloves not thick enough to really protect him. The other one snatched at Wind and put a dagger to his throat before he could press his attack, and Wind reluctantly released the hand, getting the message.

“Link’ll never fall for your stupid trap anyway,” Wind said with a glare, and the Yiga both chuckled.

“Oh yes he will. Have fun, kid.”

A door was opened, and Wind was tossed through without any sort of fanfare, stumbling as he landed. He whirled back around to the door, but it was already closed and firmly locked.

Wind scowled at it, then turned to look around his prison, mind already turning towards thoughts of escape. Who did these Yiga guys think they were, kidnapping him off the street? He was the Hero of Winds! How had they even gotten the drop on him?

Wind scowled again and kicked at the floor of the cell. At least he’d been walking around with Four and Wild. Surely one of them would notice he was missing soon. And if not, well, Wind was pretty good at getting out of tight spots if he did say so himself.

No problem.

Wind put his hands on his hips, looking around the dark cell. There was a single tiny torch hung up on the wall, too high for Wind to reach that lit up the skinny space. A stone wall stood at the far end of the cell, but the two sides were open bars, darkness yawning beyond them.

It... kinda made his skin crawl.

Wind crossed his arms, feeling cold all of a sudden, but he shrugged it off with a huff. He needed to figure out how to get out of here, creepy darkness or not. The deep shadows beyond the bars suggested a bigger area, so if he could just find a loose one, he’d be set. Maybe he could even climb up and grab the torch.

Wind walked over to a side, starting at one end and giving each bar a solid shake. They seemed pretty firmly in the ground, but Wind worked his way across anyway, hoping for a loose one. He got all the way through without a single loose bar, and sighed, crossing to the other side to try there instead.

He’d gotten about halfway when he heard something, creaky and quiet.

Wind froze, listening, and the hair on the back of his neck went up as he heard it again. That noise was familiar. He couldn’t place it, but he knew it was familiar.

And that it was bad news.

A low moan came from somewhere in the darkness, and Wind slowly began to back away, nerves all alight. If he could just see he wouldn’t be nearly as nervous. Maybe the darkness was just freaking him out, and he was imagining noises because of that?

A bloodcurdling scream rang out, and Wind’s eyes went huge as a familiar sensation wracked through him, deathly cold and terrifying.

Oh no, he thought in a panic, his feet frozen to the floor, body unable to turn away from the shambling footsteps he could hear. Oh no oh no oh—

A face appeared in the flickering light of the torch, decaying and horrible, eyes glowing. A rotten hand stretched forward and wrapped around the bars, and Wind stared at the Redead, trapped in its unnatural terror.

It didn’t look like his version of them, taller, with a few ragged clothes on its lanky body, but the feeling it left him with was the same, sheer, unnatural terror.

I’ve got to get away, maybe by the door I’ll be far enough it won’t be able to—

A different scream rang out, sending another jolt through Wind’s chest, and he watched in horror as another redead grasped at the bars, reaching out to him, trying to pull him close. Beady eyes stared at him, glowing and malicious with hunger, and Wind might have whimpered if he could move his mouth.

He fought the paralysis as much as he could, but the moment it started to wear off, one of them screamed again, leaving Wind with no escape. More screams joined the first two, and Wind choked on his breath as a whole group of redeads shambled out of the darkness. Screams came near constantly from their lips as they grabbed at the bars and reached through, trying to get at him.

They can’t get through, they can’t get through they can’t hurt you, it’s just to scare you, Wind thought frantically, heart drumming in his chest. They don’t want you to escape that’s why they put them there you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay.

The screams just kept coming, endless and piercing and shooting Wind’s heart through with inescapable terror. He couldn’t even move to cover his ears, and he felt a terrified scream build in his own throat.

But it wouldn’t come out. Wind could only keep standing there, immobilized, tears trailing silently down his cheeks.

It felt like his heart was being encased in ice, frost shooting through his veins with every scream and grazing touch. More screams joined the agonizing chorus from behind him, and the terror felt like it would crush him, repeatedly crashing over him like a freezing wave.

Hands grabbed at him, nails grazing his skin. Wind couldn’t move, the torrential screams hammering at him, cracking him, filling him up with so much terror his mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

His world narrowed down to screams and beady eyes, Wind drowning in terror, eyes darting around wildly, mind screaming every time a hand grazed him.

If he could move he’d be curled up on the ground, but all he could do was stand here and sob in his mind as a deathly cold hand finally closed around his wrist.

Then a different noise rang out over the screams.

It was garbled in Wind’s ears, some sort of talking he couldn’t make out over the redeads’ shrieks. But suddenly music poured into the cell, cheery and bright, and the screaming stopped.

All of it.

Wind’s ears still rang with them, and the terror still pressed over him like a wet blanket, but there was finally silence, and the hand trying to drag Wind closer to the bars had stopped in its efforts, the redead’s mouth stuck open with its teeth bared.

Wind would’ve sobbed if he could move, and he heard footsteps and talking, his ears still ringing too much to make out. Strong arms pulled the hand off his wrist and cradled him to a chest, shouted something at the other sets of footsteps. The song trilled again, bright and warm, and though Wind still couldn’t do much as twitch his pinky, some of his panic eased as he felt a steady heartbeat against where his ear rested.

The others were here.

There must have been a trip out, but Wind missed most of it, still trapped in the lingering screams he could hear in his mind. Tears trickled steadily down his cheeks, and past the unnaturally sharp fear was a flicker of annoyance at crying so much.

But the terror mostly blotted it out.

Sunshine finally fell onto his face, warm and soft, and whoever was holding Wind lowered themselves to a knee. A face looked down at him, and Wind saw Twilight, eyes fearful.

“Hey Wind, you alright?” he asked, and Wind could only stare at him, heart pounding, terror still clenching like a talon around him. “Wind?”

“Is he okay?” someone else asked, and Twilight leaned back, Time and Wild’s faces both coming into view next.

“He’s not responding,” Twilight replied, and Time leaned in, studying Wind’s face with a worried look.

“Wind, can you hear me?” Time asked, setting a hand on his chest.

I can hear you fine, I just can’t move! Wind wanted to scream, but his mouth was still frozen shut. The only thing that he was still able to do was cry, apparently.

Time gently wiped his tears away, and if Wind wasn’t still so terrified, he was sure he’d be embarrassed. “Do we know how long he was down there?”

“An hour, hour and a half? No more than two based on when we started looking,” a voice Wind placed as Wild added anxiously. Oh good, he avoided the trap. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a long time to be around an attacking redead, no less dozens of them like he was,” Time replied, gently tilting Wind’s head around as he looked at it. “Usually the song fixes things, I have no idea why he’s still frozen like this.”

“Prolonged exposure I’d guess,” Four’s voice added, and Twilight’s hand combed gently through his hair. “It might just take him longer to break out of it. He’s so cold...”

“I still can’t believe we lost sight of him like that,” Wild said quietly, and a different hand touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Wind.”

Oh Wild, it’s not your fault, Wind thought, trying to look the champion in the eye and convey the sentiment. I’d tell you so if I could.

Some more footsteps pounded against the grass suddenly, and the amount of voices around Wind doubled, more faces leaning over to look at him, worried questions floating over his head. The other Links had obviously joined the group, and Wind struggled even harder against the paralysis making him nothing but deadweight. But he remained as frozen as ever, a scream still stuck in his throat, ice around his heart.

“Give him space, I’m pretty sure he’s aware of what’s going on and you all are crowding him,” Warriors’ voice chided, and the majority of heads pulled back from his view. The captain’s face appeared in his line of sight, full of worry. “Wind? Can you move anything? Even just something small?”

Wind started at his feet and worked his way upward this time, trying to move anything he could. Fear still thrummed through him, his body on high alert, tears tracking down his cheeks, but he finally managed to twitch his eyelids a little.

“Hey, there we go,” Warriors said with relief in his eyes. “Can you do it again?”

Wind focused, managing another twitch, and almost did a full blink when he tried again. Warriors’ face was still worried, but he looked encouraged by even the tiny movement.

“Here, let me see if this helps some more,” Time said then, and Twilight shifted Wind around in his arms so his head was a little more upright.

Time pulled out his ocarina, purplish blue in the sunshine, and he played the trilling song again, the one Wind finally recognized as the song of passing. Time played it through a couple times, magic falling over Wind like a beam of sunlight. He was surprised the time of day itself didn’t change, but maybe Time was stopping it from doing that somehow.

Suddenly the magic loosened something inside him, the icy terror cracking, thawing a little. Some feeling swept back into his body, and the scream that had been stuck in Wind’s throat this whole time suddenly burst out, loud and terrified.

Time immediately stopped playing, and Wind began to tremble as feeling slowly spread to the rest of him, his scream ending in a hiccup. It felt amazing to finally give voice to the horrible coldness in him, and Wind barely noticed when a thumb brushed along his cheek.

“Wind?” Time asked quietly, and Wind breathed in a shaking breath, firmly blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Th-thank, tha-ank y-you,” he managed get out in a miserable-sounding whimper.

Sighs of relief went up around him, and Time gave Wind a smile, even with the way Wind was shaking and still unable to stop the tears from escaping his eyes.

“You’re welcome Sailor,” Time replied, and brushed a few more of his tears away.

Wind managed a shaky smile back, then relaxed into Twilight’s arms, more and more of the ice in his chest melting away into bright sunshine.

[makoodles]

I asked for the last magic rabbit fic, so I’ve gotta do it again: what’s happening for ghost during all this? Here he is, leaving to go run (partially out of habit but also so he doesn’t end up fucking you again when you’re so sore after your first time) and he’s trying to be normal and not obsess over you, or fuck you again when you aren’t ready or push any boundaries but then you disappear? And then flirt with some wanker at the bar when he fucked you brainless not even a week before? Only to find out that you thought you were being rejected by him over and over this week :(((( his heart maybe cold but it damn near broke at that. Ya hash it out, and then he finally has your cunt back in his life, and it’s so wet and he knows she missed him, but before he dive in fully (and make you soak his mask so he walks around all week with the smell of you stuck to him) you want to try something??? Oh fuck you’ve been practicing sucking dick on your toys?? Fuck he’s gonna come from the mental image of that. And then yoh suck him off, and you don’t think it’s very good (and maybe it’s not) but it’s you so it’s the best damn head he’s ever gotten and then you say you want him to come on your face??? He almost did with just those words. He has to promise both of you that he’ll do it next time, otherwise he’d never forgive himself. And then he finally gets to dive into the sweetest cunt in the world and it feels like coming home, he’d gladly live off just your cum if he could. Has to really stop himself from bringing you over the edge at least two more times with just his mouth. And then he finally slides into her and it’s perfect and he’s never letting you avoid him ever again. And then you moan his name???? He can’t control himself in these conditions. You wanna be on top???? He went brain dead for a second. And then when you got him all in, he’s gone feral with possessive thoughts, needing you to know you belong with him. “Am I doing good?” Are you trying to kill him via his dick??? And when all is said and done you ask if y’all are dating now??? As if Ghost hasn’t already decided that you (and your pussy) are it for him???

BABE YOU GET ITTTT!!!

i'm a firm believer that simon riley is an absolute disaster of a man, you'd just never know it because he hides it all behind that mask and quiet arrogance.

besides, like he told you already, he's not good with virgins. he meant that in a very literal sense - it's not that he's not good with them sexually (he's already proven that he is in fact good in that sense), but he is hopeless when it comes to communicating with you. he was hoping that you would be better with it, but you have no experience either so of course it's going to lead to confusion!

but yes absolutely, most of this fic from simon's pov would just be excited mental screaming. you just know that his ego is SWELLING despite the way he is constantly near a heart attack with every word you say and moan you make

[weemssapphic]

can I request a Larissa/r where Marilyn is r's best friend and larissa thinks they're dating and gets a biiiit jealous. then later, r gets to show her just how much they actually love her :)

hello :) you absolutely can! I loved this idea and loved writing it, I had so much fun brainstorming for it. I was debating adding smut to it but it just didn't feel natural and I liked it better this way, I hope that's okay <3

special thanks to @eveymay for the song rec later in this fic <3

so pull me tight and close your eyes

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Words: ~4.5k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: jealous Larissa, hurt/comfort, light angst, fluff, slow dancing

Larissa strides into the teacher’s lounge, closing the door gently behind her. She looks stunning, as usual, her red lips curling into a warm smile as her eyes meet yours - your mouth goes dry. Marilyn is speaking to you but you aren’t listening, her words fading into the background as you return Larissa’s smile, then quickly avert your gaze in a vain attempt to conceal the faint blush that is creeping up your cheeks.

You try to tune back into Marilyn’s monologue - she somehow hasn’t noticed that you’ve gotten distracted and you almost feel bad, given how enthusiastically she’s talking. You start to nod along as she clues you into her Rave’N planning, trying not to stare at Larissa as she passes by you.

“So, you’re chaperoning, right?” Marilyn places her hands on your thighs and leans towards you, pouting and batting her eyelashes. “Please say yes, no one wants to chaperone this year.”

“Yeah, of course I will.” You roll your eyes and grin, laughing at your best friend’s antics - she smiles victoriously, as if she didn’t already know you’d say yes.

Then she leans even closer and lowers her voice conspiratorially: “Have you thought about taking a date?”

“What?” You shake your head, giggling - Marilyn knows you better than anyone, and she knows you’ve been hopelessly single for years now. “You know I’m not seeing anyone. Who would I even take?”

Marilyn soaks in your puzzled expression and chuckles. “You know.” She raises an eyebrow and glances over towards the coffee machine with a smirk on her face. You follow her gaze and your blush immediately returns - Larissa’s back is to you as she waits for her coffee to brew. 

“Marilyn…” you whine quietly. “I don’t - I’m not…” You sigh, sucking your bottom lip nervously between your teeth. “Fine, yes, I like her. Happy? But I can’t ask my boss out. What if she says no?”

The redhead chuckles. “There’s no way she’d say no. I’ve seen the way she looks at you when your back is turned. She has the same yearning written all over her face that you do.”

“Does not.” You pout, but your heart is beginning to pound in your chest - could Larissa really like you back? You’ve been pining over her since you started at Nevermore over a year ago, surely you would’ve noticed…

“Does too,” Marilyn teases. “At least ask her to dance with you or something.”

Your eyes widen in fear. “Oh God, Marilyn, I can’t ask her to dance with me. I don’t even know how to dance. You know how clumsy I am - what if I trip her? She’ll hate me if I make her faceplant in front of the entire school.” Complete and utter mortification rises up within you at the mere thought.

“Relax. Deep breaths.” Marilyn grips your shoulders and gives them a reassuring squeeze. She grins brightly. “I can teach you.”

“I-I don’t know…” Your attention is stolen by a certain towering blonde who walks past you towards the door of the teacher’s lounge, coffee mug in hand. She doesn’t spare you another glance this time, and your heart sinks a bit - you can’t believe your crush has gotten so strong that this makes you sad. You turn back to Marilyn with a sigh. “Yeah, sure. I guess.”

She squeals in delight. “Perfect! How about we meet in Mr. Browning’s old classroom tomorrow at 7? No one’s using it right now so we can clear aside all the desks.”

You nod and give her a hesitant smile - you have no idea what you’ve just agreed to, but you hope it will help you win Larissa over (and save the both of you from the embarrassment of your own clumsiness).

~~~

Larissa had decided to take a trip to the teacher’s lounge during her midday break. She has an espresso machine in her quarters, attached to her office - it’s way more convenient and much quicker than getting coffee in the lounge. But sometimes she finds herself enjoying a bit of socializing with her beloved staff - and sometimes you’re there, and she would never pass up an opportunity to see you. Perhaps one day she’ll even gather up the courage to ask you out, but for now she’s contented herself with stealing glances at you, her heart skipping a beat when you catch her looking and beam back at her.

She spots you as soon as she opens the door - you glance up at her from your seat at a table in the center of the room and smile, and it’s like Larissa’s world has stopped spinning for a moment as butterflies begin to flutter madly about in her stomach. Then you look away, at Marilyn who is talking animatedly, and the butterflies turn into a strange, nagging feeling - Larissa realizes she’s been staring for far too long and strides over to the coffee machine.

The din in the teacher’s lounge is too loud for her to eavesdrop on your conversation, no matter how hard she tries - she sighs in defeat, resigning herself to watching you out of the corner of her eye when she’s sure you aren’t looking.

Coffee is dripping slowly into her mug and Larissa glances over at you once again. Marilyn’s hands are on your thighs, high enough for Larissa to quirk an eyebrow and purse her lips. Then Marilyn leans in as if she’s about to kiss you - Larissa feels her blood begin to boil. She has half a mind to tell the two of you (mostly Marilyn) off for PDA in the workplace, but she manages to reign in her emotions and restrain herself. Her gaze drops to her coffee mug - it’s full now. There’s a hollow pit in her stomach - she tries to convince herself it’s due to how unprofessional Marilyn is acting, but she knows it’s because she wishes that were her instead - her hands creeping up your thighs, her lips inches away from yours.

She lifts her mug in a white-knuckled grip and makes her way back to the door. Coming here was a bad idea - she should have stayed in her office. It takes all her strength, but she doesn’t spare you another glance. If she did, she might have shot daggers through Marilyn’s head with her eyes - but she must remain professional.

If there’s one thing Larissa Weems is good at, it’s distracting herself: she throws herself into her work for the rest of the day, and the next, keeping her mind busy with emails and phone calls and meetings. After all, it’s just a silly crush, and she will not let this affect her work - Larissa has a school to run, after all.

The following evening, Larissa is heading back to her office after a last minute trip to the Mayor’s office when she hears noises from Mr. Browning’s old classroom. She stops in her tracks and furrows her brows - no one should be in there. The only people who have a master key are herself, the janitor, and… Marilyn. She’d given Marilyn a key to make her preparations for this year’s Rave’N a bit less complicated.

Larissa growls in frustration and steps up to the door, ready to rip Marilyn a new one. She stops with her hand on the handle, asking herself where this sudden aggression came from, and she feels a little guilty when her mind drifts to you. You probably wouldn’t be happy with her if your girlfriend were to be reprimanded. 

Deep breaths, Larissa reminds herself - she isn’t even sure if Marilyn really is your girlfriend. The possibility, however, brings a fresh wave of anger out in Larissa and curiosity gets the better of her as she peers through the little window in the door.

What she sees confirms her worst fears, and her stomach drops. Soft music is playing from a phone on the teacher’s desk, all of the tables and chairs are pushed to the far side of the room. Marilyn is standing at the center of the classroom - you’re there beside her. Or, to be more precise, you’re pressed against her, your arms around her neck as she guides you through the room by your hips, dancing to the tune of the song that's playing. 

Larissa can’t see your face but she can hear your laughter - oh, how that sound is music to her ears - and she flinches away from the door as if burned. It’s only a matter of seconds before she finds herself storming off, rushing through the halls of Nevermore until she’s reached the sanctuary that is her office, banging and locking the door behind her. She leans back against the door, slamming her head back against it as she rapidly blinks away tears. She feels ridiculous and stupid. 

Who cares if her stupid crush has a stupid girlfriend. Only, she cares - a lot more than she’d like to admit. 

~~~

“Okay, let’s set the scene,” Marilyn says, after you’ve spent the past ten minutes heaving desks out of the way to create a makeshift dance floor. You roll your eyes as she starts to play Adele through her phone’s speakers.

“How romantic,” you mumble, and your best friend smirks at you. 

“Get over here,” she coos teasingly, opening her arms. You step forward and she pulls you in, settling her hands on your waist. Your arms dangle awkwardly at your sides and Marilyn huffs.

“Are you just going to limply hang there in Larissa’s arms?”

“Yes,” you deadpan - now it’s Marilyn’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Now hold me like you mean it. Hold me like I’m the 6’3 blonde principal of your wet dreams.”

Your mouth drops open and you smack Marilyn on the arm, causing her to laugh.

“Please? At least try to take this seriously. I thought you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Larissa. It’s a Friday night - I could be back in my quarters watching reruns of The Bachelorette.”

You giggle - then you sigh. She has a point. “No, I don’t. You’re right. Sorry.” Lifting your arms, you dangle them awkwardly over Marilyn’s shoulders, and she starts to sway with you. 

“Wait-” you stutter out, and Marilyn gives you a confused look. “What if I can’t even reach around Larissa’s neck?”

Your eyes are wide and Marilyn’s shoulders begin to shake with laughter - you can’t help but laugh at yourself.

“There are different ways you can hold each other. We’ll practice them, okay?”

You nod, relieved. Marilyn always knows how to set your mind at ease - it’s one of the reasons you’ve become so close. You find yourself relaxing in her arms, closing your eyes as you picture that it’s Larissa whose body you’re pressed against. It’s a difficult feat - at 5’1, Marilyn isn’t exactly a body double for the principal. But you’ve always had an overactive imagination and you allow yourself to get carried away, picturing Larissa’s hands on your waist, her lips inching towards yours, her breath fanning across your face-

A shriek is pulled from your throat as your foot bumps into Marilyn’s and the two of you topple over. You try to catch yourself but fail, managing to pull her down with you in the process.

Marilyn lands on top of you, briefly knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

The redhead looks at you for a moment, shocked, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Try not to do that with Larissa, her center of gravity is too high to fall as gracefully as I can.” She nudges you playfully as your cheeks burn, helping you up and paying your embarrassment no mind as she skips the next song and her hands land on your waist once again.

You continue your dance lessons at least three times a week in the evenings over the course of the month leading up to the Rave’N, squeezing in some last minute weekend sessions as the big night draws nearer. You switch up who is leading until you feel comfortable taking the lead, something you hoped you’d be able to do with Larissa.

And your dancing gets better - it really does. But something nags at the pit of your stomach - Larissa’s behavior towards you has taken a turn for the worse in those weeks. She’s been acting strange around you, and pretty much everyone else as well. Where she used to be a frequent guest in the teacher’s lounge, she now rarely shows her face anymore. She pointedly avoids making eye contact with you in staff meetings (she used to shoot you little looks every now and then, looks that you’re starting to miss), and it seems she has a newfound agenda against Marilyn, grilling her on any subject she can possibly conjure up.

Even her usually radiant smiles seem to have been reduced to forced grimaces as of late. You try to chalk up her change in demeanor to the pressure that Nevermore is under to get more funding from the Mayor, but you can’t help worrying that something is really wrong.

It makes you even more determined to ask her to dance at the Rave’N, if only to see one of those beautiful smiles you’ve been missing. Maybe she does like you, maybe she doesn’t, but it would be worth it to make her happy, even for a few minutes. It has to work.

~~~

The Rave’N is tomorrow and Larissa has half a mind not to go - if she sees you wrapped in Marilyn’s arms again, dancing the night away, she might scream and lose the last ounce of professionalism in her body. The whole situation reminds her far too much of watching Morticia get swept across the dancefloor by Gomez some 20 years ago. That rejection still stings, even all these years later, and Larissa isn’t sure she could live through the same scenario twice. Her heart, and her pride, really took a hit the first time - this time, however, it would be nothing short of devastating.

You’ve used the empty classroom several times a week this past month - every few days, Larissa passes it on the way to her office and hears music and laughter seeping through the crack underneath the door. 

Although it irks Larissa, she can’t come up with a reason to barge in and tell you off - you aren’t technically breaking any rules, though Marilyn is using her key for reasons other than those she’d specified. Still, imagining the anger that would surely be written across your face if Larissa interrupted your little rendezvous - anger that would be directed at Larissa herself - breaks her heart, and she can’t bring herself to do it.

Jealous. Larissa admits it to herself - she feels jealous. She hasn’t felt this way in a long time, not since she’d seen the engagement ring glimmering on Morticia’s ring finger, coupled with her beaming grin and Gomez’s own smug smile. But she feels it now, when she sees the ease with which you and Marilyn talk and laugh and dance. Larissa has always been too shy to make a move, too unsure of your feelings to act upon her own - and now it seems she’s too late.

But not going to the Rave’N isn’t an option - not as principal, when her presence (or rather, the lack thereof) would be questioned. She’ll simply have to plaster on a fake smile (it’s not like she hasn’t been able to practice those these past few weeks) and pretend everything is okay - and maybe she can sneak out when the obligatory slow dance song comes on, so that she won’t have to witness you dancing arm in arm with Marilyn, in front of the entire school.

~~~

The Rave’N is in full swing, the music booming in your ears - your nerves are beginning to rise. Sure, the dance lessons have gone well, but you can’t help but worry you’ll forget everything Marilyn taught you the second you look up into Larissa’s gorgeous, piercing blue eyes. That is, if she even agrees to dance with you - you don’t want to get ahead of yourself.

Larissa looks stunning tonight - she’s always beautiful, but tonight she’s practically glowing. She’s changed the way she does her updo a bit - there are more curls piled up high on her head, it’s even more intricate than you’ve ever seen it before. Her dress is modest but it hugs her curves in all the right places - it suits her. Fuck, you’ve really got it bad, you think, unable to take your eyes off her.

When you first arrived, she was greeting the students - you’d given her a bashful smile and thought you could see a hint of a blush adorn her cheeks when she returned the smile. Her smile appeared to be genuine, and your heart did a somersault in your chest.

Now that most people seem to have arrived, she’s moved to the buffet table, keeping a watchful eye over the students. She seems content, though she doesn’t really have anyone to keep her company - the thought of her feeling lonely as students dance and the rest of the chaperones gather in smaller groups at the other end of the dance floor makes your heart ache. You want to reach out to her - you find yourself praying to any deity that is willing to listen that she wants that, too.

Marilyn sidles up next to you, but you begin to ramble before she can even open her mouth. “Oh god, are you sure about this? What if she says no? What if she says yes? What if I trip and fall and take her down with me and-”

“Stop!” She raises an eyebrow at you, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. Larissa looks over in that moment, smiling again as your eyes meet - her smile falters, however, and she quickly looks away.

“We’ve been over this. Larissa definitely likes you. And you’ve gotten so good. You haven’t tripped and taken me down with you the last couple times.” She shoots you an overexaggerated wink and you roll your eyes, playfully bumping her shoulder. “You got this! Now go, before the Rave’N ends and I realize I’ve wasted all my afternoons for the better part of a semester for nothing.”

You take a deep breath and nod, turning towards the punch bowl where you last saw Larissa - only to see she’s left it unmanned, no tall principal in sight. A flash of platinum blonde at the far end of the room catches your eye, and you see Larissa’s form disappear into the hallway.

Your brow furrows as you push past a group of students at the edge of the dancefloor, throwing them an absent-minded smile as they watch you with confusion. You pick up your pace, almost chasing after Larissa, hoping she hasn’t disappeared on you completely.

As you exit into the hallway, your shoulders relax a bit when you see Larissa slumped against the wall just down the hall. With every step you take, however, the tension builds again - Larissa’s head is resting back against the wall, her eyes are closed, a deep frown adorns her face. Your footsteps echo in the hallway and she turns to face you. As soon as you make eye contact, she pushes herself off the wall, smoothing her dress and plastering a smile on her face - one that very clearly does not reach her eyes.

“What can I do for you?” she asks - her voice trembles just a bit. She peels off her gloves and runs a hand over her hair, smoothing it down - you’re caught off guard by the motion, briefly transfixed by the sight of her bare hands.

“I…” your voice trails off and you shake your head in an attempt to clear it. Should you make up some excuse? Or should you just come clean? Seeing the wariness in her eyes, however, makes you realize you can’t possibly lie to her. “I wanted to ask you something but I saw you leave. Is everything alright?”

Another forced smile. “Everything is fine, I just needed a little fresh air. You know how awfully stuffy it can get in there with no windows to open.”

“And how’s the air out here?” you tease, knowing that the hallway is just as stuffy. You try to keep your voice light, and it almost works - the ghost of a genuine smile passes across Larissa’s face.

“Just as stuffy,” she confirms, her lips curling upwards in spite of herself.

You hold her gaze for a moment. You’d been so set on asking her to dance - it’s what you’d been hyping yourself up for for weeks now. But right now, Larissa just looks tired. She looks like she needs to talk - maybe your plan would have to wait.

“Maybe you’d care to join me for a walk?” you ask hopefully, extending a hand towards her. She looks from your face to your hand with a bewildered expression, hesitantly taking a step forward and placing her hand in your own. Your heart begins to beat like crazy - her hand is cool to the touch, her skin so incredibly soft. It is a bit larger than your own, and she is careful to keep her grip light as her long fingers curl around yours.

“Sorry if my hand is a bit cold, it always is,” she mutters - you wave away her concern and give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ll keep you warm,” you tease, regretting the words as soon as they come out of your mouth. You blush and keep your gaze in front of you as you walk with Larissa towards the west entrance of the school. She says nothing, but she holds onto your hand the entire time.

The night air is cool as it washes over you, and you hum. You make no move to disentangle your hand from Larissa’s, and neither does she - the two of you walk in silence towards the lake. You’re so close to her that your shoulder brushes against her arm as you walk - her perfume, sweet and floral, wafts towards you on a breeze. It’s your favorite scent in the world - it makes you dizzy.

“Why are we out here?” Larissa asks as she comes to an abrupt halt. Your stomach lurches.

“We’re getting fresh air?” you whisper, suddenly feeling unsure of yourself.

Larissa sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand as deep frown lines mar her features. “No, I know that. What I mean is…” She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours but apparently coming up blank. “Won’t Marilyn mind?”

You snort, then cover your mouth in horror at the sound you’ve made, your eyes wide. The crease between Larissa’s eyebrows deepens. “Why would Marilyn mind? What’s she got to do with anything?” Why would Larissa bring up Marilyn? Why should Marilyn care what you’re doing? If anything, she’d be cheering you on…

“I-I thought…” Larissa starts, looking uncharacteristically insecure. “I just don’t think your girlfriend would like you holding my hand,” she whispers. Your eyes grow even wider.

“My what?” You don’t understand - you don’t have a gi- Oh.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” you say slowly. “Marilyn is one of my best friends, I couldn’t dream of dating her.”

“I’m sorry.” Larissa looks mortified, her face turning beet red as she raises her hand to cover her mouth. “I-I just assumed, when I saw the two of you slow dancing together, I-”

“Wait, when did you- never mind, it doesn’t matter. Larissa, listen to me,” you cut her off as understanding washes over you. “Marilyn was just teaching me how to dance.”

“Oh.” Larissa pauses, bringing a hand up to her neck to play nervously with her necklace. “May I ask why?” Her voice trembles slightly even as she attempts to compose herself - your heart begins to pound erratically against your ribcage.

“So that I won’t make a complete fool of myself when I ask you if you’d like to dance with me tonight.” You bite your lip, blushing and looking up at Larissa, whose face is unreadable for a moment.

“You want to dance with me?” She sounds slightly breathless and her cheeks are flushed - it gives you the final shot of confidence you need.

“Yes, Larissa, I would be honored to dance with you.” Raising her hand to your mouth, you press a chaste kiss to her knuckles, your eyes never leaving hers. Her cheeks glow pink and her pupils widen a fraction as her lips curl into a shy smile.

Then her eyes dim a bit and she looks up at Nevermore, biting her lip. “I would love to but I’m afraid the dance will be over soon.” She sounds sad and it breaks your heart - you fumble around in your pocket for your phone, Larissa’s eyes curiously tracking your every move.

“My dress has pockets, isn’t it cool?” you comment, grinning as you open Spotify and start to scroll with your thumb.

“Yes, that’s very cool, darling,” she replies with a chuckle.

The song “this is how you fall in love” by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler starts to play out of your phone’s speaker - you turn up the volume and slide your phone back into your pocket so that the speaker is sticking out slightly.

“Larissa Weems,” you start, taking a step back and gazing up into her eyes, which sparkle with childlike wonder. “May I have this dance with you?”

The smile you receive in return is blinding. “It would be my honor,” she purrs, and you waste no time in resting your hands on her waist, tugging gently to pull her flush against you. Larissa winds her arms around your neck, smiling down at you as you begin to sway to the beat of the music.

“You look absolutely ravishing tonight,” you whisper, reveling in the way Larissa blushes and looks away, flustered.

“Thank you, darling. You look beautiful yourself,” she whispers back, ducking her head so that your faces are mere inches apart.

Your eyes drop down to those plush red lips, just in time to see the tip of Larissa’s pink tongue dart out to wet her lips.

“May I kiss you?” You have trouble getting the words out as you stare at her lips, as if in a trance. They quirk up at the outer corners and form the word “please” - you close the gap, pressing your lips to hers. They are incredibly soft, but a little cold - Larissa makes up for the fact by quickly parting them, inviting you to explore the warmth of her mouth with your tongue.

The two of you moan in tandem as your tongues meet and you press yourself even closer to Larissa, getting lost in the kiss, the song, the dancing. You’re overwhelmed with feelings - excitement, contentment, adoration, lust, love. One feeling overwhelms them all, however - the feeling of finally finding your home.

Larissa feels the same way - she smiles into the kiss as it deepens. She’ll have to send an apology to Marilyn for all those dirty looks, though - but for now, she doesn’t care. For now, all that matters are your hands caressing her waist and your tongue flicking against hers. For now, all that matters is you.

This is how you fall in love Let go and I'll hold you up So pull me tight and close your eyes Oh, my love, side to side

-

Marilyn wonders where you and Larissa have gone off to, and if all has gone well. The following day, Marilyn’s questions are answered in the form of a huge bouquet of flowers on her desk, with a note that simply reads: Thank you. I’m sorry. Larissa

x

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Chapter Two

Chapter One

The sound of funeral bells rings in my head as I button up my jacket. Dark colors adorn my body as I look in the mirror. My hair doesn’t quite cooperate, but it doesn’t matter; my hood will be up, at least until I get inside. Then? Well, I’ve changed. I don’t fit that respectable image anymore - I never did. That’s part of the reason why I left, the main reason. When you live somewhere you don’t belong for too long, you get desperate and flee. You cut ties, throw away all you know, for a life you hope fits you better. And I was lucky enough that my new life did.

As I adjust my jewelry, I think back to the times where I would do this for weekly events. My mother - no, abandoner - would stand behind me as I used the mirror to perfect my look. It was never to her liking, though, and she always ended up shoving earrings into my lobes in places where there were no holes, scarring me over time. Now, I go to a piercer to get new earrings shoved through needle holes in my ears. It’s cleaner, healthier, and better. 

I find earrings that fit well enough with my dark attire and quickly slip them through my piercings. I use my finger to straighten out my septum before I turn to leave the bathroom. My apartment isn’t much, but it’s good enough for me. No one in the undercity has much, unless you’re a Chem Baron. My boots aren’t shiny or new, and there’s plenty of scuffs in them, but they’re the most comfortable shoes I have - and they go with my outfit.

“I’ll be back later, don’t get up to any trouble while I’m gone.” I lean over to look at my little betta fish swimming over to the glass to look at me. “I know, I haven’t spent enough time with you lately. But I promise that I will make it up to you,” I tell him. After reaching for his food, I drop a single pellet in for him to eat. “No more until I get back, I don’t want you to get dropsy.” Huy, my fish, stares at me with his beady black eyes. His mouth opens and a bubble comes out, signaling that he probably burped. 

A laugh slips from me before I stand and head to the front door, and my smile slips as I sigh. It’s not fun going to Piltover, but this time, it feels necessary. An old friend’s mother has died; someone who used to occasionally provide for me. The least I owe is my condolences to my friend and her father, and a brief respect given to her mother. Though, she is part of the reason I fled - I’d become a burden to her and her family. I was an orphan who took too much from her. I was needy, and she was rich. I was wild, she was proper.

The door closes firmly behind me and I quickly lock it. A few whistles ring through the air as friendly neighbors bid me goodbye. I offer a brief wave behind my back before beginning on my trek. No one knows what I’m up to, not even my closest friend - well, he’s more like a brother. My actual closest friend had been in Stillwater for the last 7 years, and as soon as she got out, Vi began running around with some random chick, trying to find her sister and save her. We only knew each other for a small amount of time before she was thrown in prison, but I managed to visit her often due to my connection with the guard - it helps to be an orphan in need of guidance, and he was kind enough, or maybe dumb enough, to take me under his wing. I have another friend as well, Ekko, who brought me into the Firelights group. We met one night while I was walking back to my apartment after visiting Vi. I’d gotten surprised by one of the firelight creatures when it landed on my arm. Ekko had been chasing it, and coincidentally ran into me. After that, he’d let me into the group and their home; a beautiful place with a real tree at the center.

Back to my ‘brother’. His name is Thieram, and he works at The Last Drop—my first stop on the way to Topside. Coincidentally, due to me visiting him often at work, I became sort-of friends with Jinx and Sevika, mainly due to the fact that Silco’s office was above the bar. I only ever saw the man in brief passing because when Thieram would see him come in, he’d make sure I looked anywhere but at his boss. He always warned me that one wrong glance would earn me Sevika’s knee in my jaw.

“Where are you off to wearing such a gloomy outfit,” Thieram asks as I walk into the building. 

I take my normal seat at the bar and take that shot he offers me. “Piltover.”

“Topside? How come?” he questions while preparing me another shot—he knows how much I hate going up there, even if it’s for business. He’s heard plenty of drunken rants to know exactly what I would say to any question he’d ask after I returned Underground.

“Friend’s mother died, felt like I should at least show up for once. Haven’t seen her in years anyway, it might surprise me to see what she’s become,” I explain before throwing back the second shot. “Thanks.”

“‘Course. You sure you wanna do this, though? No one’s forcing you to go up there.”

“I should go,” I sigh, taking the glass of water he offers. “I kinda miss my friends up there, ya know? Sure they weren’t the best and didn’t really understand me, but they did their best. I think.”

“You have friends?” he jokes, and I crack a smile. “There it is, I missed those crooked teeth.”

“My teeth are not crooked, thank you very much. Although your nose still is from the last time I broke it.” The snark comes naturally, and of course, he has a quick retort.

“I’m not gonna bother fixing it, knowing how dirty you like to spar,” he laughs, and I join in with him. 

I slip off my bar stool and stretch, a groan coming from me as I do. “I better be off now, Thier,” I say with a crack of my neck, “Sorry I can’t stay more than a minute, I don’t wanna be Topside when it gets dark. They’ll probably think I’m some filthy Zaunite robber,” I snicker.

“Wait, you aren’t?” he asks, faking exasperation.

“I mean, they don’t need to know I am,” I laugh before reaching over the bar and trying to slap him playfully.

“Hey! Knock it off! You don’t slap the guy who gives you drinks,” he says while glaring at me. “Now, go on and git.” He sticks his tongue out at me, an action that I playfully copy.

“See ya later, Thiery,” I say while waving as I walk out. He smiles and waves back, offering me the same salutations. As soon as the door closes behind me, my mood drops again. I’m not glum about her mom being dead, as bad as that sounds. I’m upset about having forced myself back up there, a place that never fails to push me back out each time I venture across the bridge.

Nobody seems to notice me as I walk through the lanes, but the second I step onto the bridge, the eyes of multiple enforcers are glued to me. I keep my head down, trying not to draw any attention, but some young, probably new, enforcer bee-lines to me and blocks me from walking any further.

“State your business,” he says while glaring at me. “And take off your jacket, you’re getting a search.”

“A search?” I ask bewildered, “What did I do to be searched?”

“You came from the Undercity. Now answer my question before I detain you for being difficult.”

I open my mouth to protest before biting my tongue. I pull my jacket off and forcefully shove it into his hands while he signals someone to come over and pat me down. “I’m going to pay respects to an old friend whose mother died recently,” I explain, “hence the dark clothes.”

“And what is the name of this friend?” he asks as the other nods to signify that I’m clear.

“Does that really matter? You won’t believe me, anyway,” I huff. He opens his mouth to object before a superior officer comes over and tells him to let me pass as I had cleared the search. He scoffs before throwing my jacket back at me, but not hard enough, causing me to have to move forward to catch it before it hits the ground. I spit next to his shoe before slipping my jacket back on and pulling the hood back up. I don’t look to see who the other enforcer is, not caring about who came to my ‘rescue’.

As I walked along the bridge, I glanced at the water to my side. I’d never been good at swimming, but there was always the urge to jump in and let the slow current carry me along. The River Zaun looks peaceful, despite being disgustingly polluted and full of who knows what kind of creatures. The rays of sun reflect off of it, catching my eye and causing me to look away. A dot is in my vision now from the brightness, but it’s a welcome change compared to the constant darkness and glow of the Undercity.

I cringe at the sound of my boots on the tiled street of Piltover. My heels seem to produce an echo that reverberates down the row of buildings, and I feel as though it’s a summoning, an alarm that a Zaunite has wandered up to Piltover. Enforcers pass by as I walk the familiar route to my friend’s house; they tend to be more prominent in the rich neighborhoods, probably due to wanting to protect the wealthy more than anyone else. How else would Piltover fund their excessive police force and academy?

I stop at the end of the street to gaze at the gates before me. The metal glints in the sun, and I feel small as I watch them rise into the sky. They don’t send an inviting message, but I force myself to walk over anyway. To my surprise, they’re open, and I walk through them and up to the door. I knock once, softly, before knocking harder, twice. I take a few steps back before putting my head down and waiting. After a few moments, Mr. Kiramman answers the door.

His eyes are wide as I look up at him. It takes only a second for him to recognize me, and once he does, he immediately moves to the side to let me in. “We’ve wondered about you,” he admits to me, shattering the awkward silence. 

“I’ve been alright,” I respond simply, “is Caitlyn here?”

“Yes, I can let her know that she has a guest. Would you like me to tell her it’s you?”

I think for a moment, considering the options. “No, I think I would like to surprise her. Maybe it could be…something to bring a bit of joy to her, in this hard time.”

Mr. Kiramman nods before leading me to a sitting area. “I’ll go let her know, then,” he says before turning and taking a few steps.

“Wait,” I say, stopping him in his tracks. He turns back and looks at me, and I give him a small smile. “I never thanked you guys before. I know it’s probably far too late, but I appreciated everything you did for me, no matter how big or small.”

He smiles briefly before looking down as the smile fades. “We could’ve done more. But Cassandra-”

“I give my condolences for your loss. She was a strong woman. May you find peace in her honor.” I cut him off, not needing to know any more of how Cassandra Kiramman had always thought of me as lesser, an orphan mooch. Mr. Kiramman nods before turning again and heading to find Caitlyn, understanding my tone as one indicating our conversation is over.

After a minute, I hear steps ringing through the house. I stand and face away from the stairs I knew she’d be coming from. I can’t bear to face her yet, not after so long, and not after her mother’s recent death.

“I was told you were here to see me?” Her voice sounds hollow, and I can sense the emotional drain she has gone through. “Well? Are you going to turn around?”

I take a deep breath before speaking as I turn. “I…should have visited sooner,” I say before looking up. Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back, resting a hand on the arm of a chair for support.

A mumble of my name leaves her lips before she lunges forward and wraps me in a hug. “I thought you were dead, or in jail!” she cried into my neck. “I…I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! Where have you been? What have you been doing?”

I slowly pull away and glance into her eyes, seeing a mix of excitement, relief, and hurt. “I…well, it’s a long story,” I admit with a sigh. “It’s not why I’m here. I wanted to offer my condolences—”

“I don’t need any more of those,” she cuts in with a sigh. “Please, sit. Can you tell me anything about these past 6 years?”

I sit and think for a second before nodding softly. I fidget with my hands for a second, deciding how much to spill. “I fled to the Undercity. I realized that I’d fit in better down there, being a poor orphan and all. Topside…well, you know I never fit in here. You and Jayce were the only ones who gave me a chance, but even then…” My words trailed off. I didn’t want to make her feel bad about her past actions, or those of her mother. “I eventually joined a…morale raising group. We embrace the possibility of a better Zaun.” Caitlyn stiffens up in her seat as I speak, and I stop when I can tell she has something to say. 

“A morale raising group? You’re not a part of Silco’s crew, are you?”

“No,” I quickly deny, “they’re kinda our rivals down there. We fight for control, for influence. The group I’m in, we’re more about peace and bringing people together. Silco’s crew…they’re more about fear tactics, forcing people under their control.”

“I see,” Caitlyn says before relaxing again. “It was one of Silco’s people who killed my mother. I had to make sure you weren’t a part of it.”

I shake my head no before studying her outfit, realizing why it seemed familiar to me. It’s my turn to stiffen up in my seat, and I divert my eyes from her enforcer uniform.

“Is there something wrong?” Caitlyn asks, having noticed my sudden tension.

“You’re…an enforcer…” I comment, meeting her eyes again. “An enforcer.”

“Yes, it had always been my dream since I was little,” she explains. “Why? Is that a problem?”

“A problem? Do you understand what enforcers—no, nevermind. Don’t worry about it.”

“Not all enforcers are bad,” she counters me, “We have orders and directions we have to follow. Sometimes they’re more harsh than normal due to external factors.”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Cait,” I sigh, “I need to go soon anyway.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad about the Undercity. It’s just-”

“No, I get it. Your mother was killed by one of us. You’ve grown up and lived in Piltover your whole life. You don’t know what it’s like down there. You don’t know what it’s like for us to see an enforcer.”

“Us?” she questions, her brows furrowed in confusion. “You think you’re one of them now?”

“Yes, I am. I’ve been accepted into the world down there, unlike how I was tossed aside up here. It’s…refreshing, feeling like I belong somewhere. But, again, I need to leave. I don’t want to be stuck here when it’s dark.”

Caitlyn glances at the ground for a second before perking up again. “Have you visited Jayce?” she asks as we both stand. “I can give you an escort to his lab if you’d like.”

“I don’t need an escort, and I wasn’t planning on seeing him. I’m only up here to offer you my condolences,” I explain. “And…I don’t think Jayce would be happy to see me.”

“He misses you more than you know,” she counters. “Please, let me have someone take you there. Or I’ll write down the directions if you feel more comfortable. I’ll just have to give you a note with my official seal to show the guards. Please, just visit him for me.”

I roll my eyes before obliging, letting her quickly scrawl out a note for me, and directions on how to get to the lab. “Thanks,” I say while placing the note in my pocket. I’ll…see ya,” I say, a wave of sadness washing over me again. In a second, her arms are around me again, and I return the hug. “I miss you, Cait,” I whisper to her.

Her arms tighten around me before she responds. “I miss you too. Please visit.”

“Sure. I’ll try.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. She hates the Undercity, and I hate Topside. When we separate, we offer weak smiles to each other before I turn to walk out. As the door closes behind me, I let out a long breath. My heart is racing, and I feel it pick up as I see Vi walking past the gates. 

“Vi? What are you doing here?” I ask in bewilderment.

She says my name in surprise before running up the steps to be next to me. “I’m here to see Caitlyn. What are you doing up here?”

“Same thing. Caitlyn and I were friends before I fled to Zaun. How do you know her?”

“She’s the one who got me out of Stillwater and helped me look for Powder. We’re…dating, I think.”

“Dating? You’re dating an enforcer? What the hell, Vi? They’re the ones who killed your parents!”

Vi steps back, startled by my sudden anger. “Yeah, but Caitlyn wasn’t the one who did it! My sister killed her mother, how do you think that makes her feel seeing me?”

“Vi,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, “those people think we’re dirt. They don’t care about anything other than oppressing us and trying to scare us. How could you be with one?”

“You don’t understand,” she huffs, “you don’t know what she’s gone through, or what she’s like. She doesn’t just go down there to harass us. She does her job.”

“The job of enforcers is to harass us. I can’t believe you would just…switch up like that.” I throw my hands in the air in emphasis of my words. Vi holds eye contact with me for a second before scoffing.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. I gotta go, I’ll see you around.”

It’s my turn to scoff as I shake my head and begin walking away. Soon enough, I’m past the gates and back on the street. I walk quickly, wanting to get my day of reunions over with as fast as possible so I can go back to The Last Drop and have a drink with Thieram. 

The sun is just past midday when I see the building Jayce is supposed to be in. Of course, a guard of enforcers is stationed outside. I groan internally while walking up, and a young ginger girl stops me from going any further. A man that is possibly a Vastaya lingers back, watching the ginger enforcer carefully. I don’t pay attention to him, or how his frills seem to twitch up when he looks at me.

“Hello, do you have clearance to be here?” the ginger girl asks.

“Yeah, I have this note from Caitlyn Kiramman,” I say while handing it to her.

“Caitlyn? You know her?” the ginger asks excitedly. “She’s such an inspiration to me, I could listen to her for hours.”

“Uh, cool,” I say casually, not sure how else to respond. “I’m just here to see Jayce Talis.”

“Oh, I could escort you in, unless you know your way around,” she offers kindly. “Don’t need a good looking person like you getting lost in there,” she jokes casually. 

“If you just tell me the directions I’m sure I can find it.”

“Alright,” she says, a flush of slight embarrassment covering her face in her failed flirtation attempt. “I’ll write them down on the back of this note for you.”

“Thanks,” I say while shifting awkwardly. I spare another glance at the other enforcer, and catch him quickly looking away. His ears twitch but I don’t think anything of it, and turn back to take the directions from the ginger. “Thanks,” I say again before she steps aside to let me continue in.

The halls are large and empty, and I feel a chill roll through my body as my shoes once again echo as I walk. I check the note and make a turn, quickly coming up on the door I needed. I’m surprised at how easy and fast it is to get here, but I suppose it’s easier for Jayce to reach his work quickly when he makes a research breakthrough.

As I walk into the lab, it’s dark and cold. I pull my jacket tighter and cautiously step in. A tall thing catches my attention as it lights up the room. It looks like there’s a body inside it, but I can’t tell what it really is.

“I told you I need to be alone, Mel. I…I don’t want to see you right now.”

“I’m sorry then, I suppose, since I’m not this ‘Mel’ person,” I say slowly as I step into the light. 

Jayce sits up in his seat, snapping his head in my direction. He exclaims my name before standing and walking toward me. “Is…is it really you?” he asks, reaching out to touch my arm.

I resist the urge to move away from the contact and let him feel that I’m not a dream or a hallucination. “Yes, it is. Last time I checked, at least.” I crack the small joke, and his eyes fill with joy before he wraps his arms around me and lifts me up, spinning around with me in his arms. “Alright, alright, put me down!” I say firmly before he sets me back on my feet.

“I’m sorry. I just…it’s been so long! Me and Cait, we were so worried! You didn’t even leave us a note!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I thought it would be best to just disappear, though,” I explain. “I…I didn’t mean to hurt you guys.”

He smiles softly at me. “It’s okay. I…guess I could understand. Feeling like disappearing is the best option, I mean. My best friend…it’s my fault he’s like this,” he says while waving an arm toward the thing with the person in it. “If I would’ve done more to prevent the Undercity from getting Hextech, he wouldn’t be like this.”

I look at the floor, a wave of hurt washing over me. “It’s not the Undercity that’s the problem. It’s a certain individual. One of Silco’s people.”

Jayce glances at me for a second before nodding and looking away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I should go,” I say, beginning to turn to leave.

“What? Already? Wait-” Jayce reaches out and grabs my arm, and I pull it out of his grip.

“I don’t want to ruin anything, since I’m from the Undercity,” I snap at him.

“I said I was sorry,” he counters, “please, let’s…let’s catch up!”

“No, Jayce. I need to get back before it’s dark. You don’t understand how dangerous it is for a Zaunite to be near enforcers at night, especially when we’re in Piltover.”

“I can escort you back. I’m a Councilor now,” he counters again. “Please, you’ve been gone for so long. I miss you.”

I shake my head without looking back at him. “I’m sorry, Jayce. It was a mistake coming here. I only came up to give Caitlyn my condolences then leave. She made me visit you. Goodbye, Jayce.”

I quickly leave the room and head for the doors, not wanting to waste another second up here with friends who don’t understand me. Guilt washes over me as I push open the front door. I ignore the sounds of Jayce calling for me as I descend the stairs, but when I step off and take a few steps down the street, Jayce catches up to me. The two enforcers from before perk up, but he signals to them that everything is okay.

“Please, just…keep in touch, or something,” he says. I look at the desperation in his eyes before shaking my head.

“I’m not the friend that you remember me as, or think that I am. I’ve changed, Jayce, and so have you and Cait. I don’t belong up here, I don’t belong around you guys. We’re from two different worlds, and I’m choosing to return to mine. I’m leaving yours behind.”

“What if we meet on the bridge, once a week? To…I don’t know, stay connected?”

I look in his eyes again, and shake my head while offering a sad smile. I grab his hands and squeeze them briefly. “Jayce, I will always have love for you and Caitlyn in my heart. But I cannot do as you wish. I have a life, responsibilities. I…I could send you mail, once a month, but that’s the extent of it.”

Jayce drops my hands and shakes his head, sadness covering each part of his expression. “Why? Why come up here just to leave us again? Why visit just to say goodbye?”

“Because, Jayce,” I explain softly, “it’s closure. For me. For you, for Cait. Our friendship can be laid to rest now, and we can save our memories for times of reflection.”

“I don’t want you to just be a memory, though,” he begs, “why does it have to be this way?”

“It’s what I need to move on in life,” I explain before taking a few steps back. “Goodbye, Jayce.”

With a final turn away, I leave behind my childhood friends, and make my way toward the bridge. As I cross over, the sun sets, causing a range of beautiful colors to dance across the sky. I take a moment to observe it, remembering how I used to come down here as a child to watch it whenever I didn’t have homework or chores. I lean over the railing to look at the water, feeling the soft breeze flowing around me. I step up onto the railing, feeling the urge to feel taller, to let the breeze carry me.

A sudden strong gust, and my heart drops as I feel myself fall forward. A quick reaction, and someone is pulling me down and to secure ground. My eyes are wide as I tremble from the jolt of fear. A hand rests on my arm, and I turn to look at who it was that helped me. The male enforcer from outside Jayce’s lab pulls his hand away, but I can see the unasked answer in his eyes. “I’m good,” I breathe out, “thanks.” He nods and gives a small smile before stepping back and giving me more room. I quickly get on my way again, making my way across the bridge before descending into the Undercity.

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@gffhjtui @toma-is-tired @dreamingbluerries

[jsmelodies]

Cassian thought it was supposed to be simple. 

Find the witch in the woods.

Convince said witch to give him Ataraxia.

Rescue the princess from the dragon guarding her tower, with said sword, from said witch.

If only the damned witch stopped getting in his way.

Written for @nessianweek Day 5: Behind Closed Doors

Because nothing says behind closed doors like getting to know a witch in the middle of the woods with no one around.

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Cassian had a long time to think on the ride back to the palace. Once he cleared the thicket of the forest, he urged Ruby to go faster, settling into an easy canter for the remainder of the journey.

The sun was just beginning to hit the tips of the castle spires when he made it to the city streets. The children paused in their playing in the streets to watch him ride through the gates.

Ruby let out a snort as he slowed them down to a walk, and he flashed his typical easygoing grin to the children. For the first time, though, that smile felt ingenuine. 

Women gave him shy smiles as he rode by, nothing like the stern look of that witch in the forest. He hadn’t even gotten her name.

You want me to find you worthy? I don’t.

Was all of this just a lie? All of the years hoping he could be something better—something greater. What if he’d just deluded himself? What if he wasn’t worthy at all?

No one paid him any mind as he rode in. He wasn’t beat up like Kallon was, so there was nothing interesting to see. Cassian approached, sliding off of Ruby with one smooth movement.

Rhys and Azriel were already done for the day, placing their dulled practice blades back on the rack and leaning against the stone of the palace wall.

“I take it you didn’t have much luck,” Az said, noticing his frustration, and the lack of a princess on his arm.

Cassian considered not telling them the truth. He considered saying that he searched the woods all day without a single trace. But, he sighed and said, “I found her.”

Rhys frowned. “What happened? Can you remember?” he asked.

“Yeah, I remember everything. I messed up and insulted her. She struck a nerve, so I…”

Azriel watched him with an arched eyebrow. “You what?”

Cassian winced, knowing how what he was about to say would sound. “I may have implied that she didn’t have a soul.” 

Azriel let out a long, long breath. “Yeah. Alright, so you fucked up pretty badly.”

Cassian slid his gaze to Rhys, who had a singular eyebrow lifted.

“How important is this to you?” Rhys asked, his voice contemplative.

“I need to make it right.”

“Yeah, if there’s any chance of you getting that sword-”

“No,” Cassian said, cutting him off. “Regardless of that. I need to make it right.”

An honorable man wouldn’t have said what he did. And if by some chance he did, then that man would apologize. Rhys’ mother ingrained that lesson into him when he was just a boy.

He hadn’t meant what he said. It was all spoken out of anger, but it wasn’t okay. 

Cassian knew what he had to do.

***

He set out again the next morning. The witch wouldn’t try to kill him, he didn’t think. At least, not after he apologized. And he would apologize.

The ride through the forest was short, and his heart beat quickly in his chest for the entirety. 

He remembered the route back to her cottage with perfect clarity. She must not have spelled him, or whatever it was she did to Kallon, because he was able to follow the same path to her cottage, that thread pulling him along faintly.

It was almost like she was waiting to see what he would do.

He took a deep breath as he reached the edge of the line of trees, attempting to clear his head before he faced her again.

His eyes fluttered shut for just a moment. He could do this.

“I’ve asked you to leave. I won’t do it again.”

Cassian was dragged out of his daze by the words, and he opened his mouth, prepared to defend his presence, when he realized they weren’t directed at him at all.

Another man stood in the clearing, hulking and in full metal armor, like he expected a fight. Unfortunately, Cassian recognized that armor. Tomas Mandray. He stood with his sword raised, ready to attack.

The witch was in her doorway, clad in the cloak from yesterday, gripping it firmly around her body. As if that cloak was her own form of armor.

The woman didn’t deserve this. It didn’t matter what Cassian’s opinions were, or anyone else’s for that matter. She deserved to exist without fear of being harmed or killed.

As a knight to the kingdom, he would ensure she could.

“Tomas. That’s enough,” Cassian said, making the last few steps into the clearing.

“What are you doing here?” Tomas asked, sneering. 

They’d never gotten along, only ever exchanging stiff pleasantries before both going on their way. He had a feeling this conversation would not even come close to being that.

“The same as you, I imagine,” Cassian said, getting off his horse. “I’m here for the sword.”

A lie. Well, partly. 

“Then you understand the witch needs to die,” Tomas said. “They’re a blight on our kingdom, and need to be killed.”

The look on Tomas’ face, however, implied that wasn’t where his intentions ended. Cassian felt the rage bubbling under his skin, that if he hadn’t shown up, the witch might have been forced to deal with that.

“You don’t need to kill her,” Cassian said. “She’s just minding her own business. Leave her be.”

“Whatever,” Tomas said, turning away from Cassian, raising his sword once more.

The witch retreated back inside a step, but it was enough for Cassian to see that she was well and truly terrified.

Before he knew it, he’d moved and his sword was at Tomas’ throat. He would kill him, one of his fellow knights, if it came down to it.

“I won’t say it again,” Cassian said with a low voice. “Leave her alone. Take one more step towards that door, Tomas, and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”

The other knight’s eyes narrowed. “Whose fucking side are you on?”

“There are no sides. I just have basic human decency.”

It turned out his intervention was unnecessary, however, because the next moment Bryaxis had jumped in between Tomas and Cassian, hissing up a storm.

Tomas took a single step back, raising an amused eyebrow. “What’s her stupid cat going to do?” he muttered to himself, aiming to kick him aside with his foot.

Somehow, Cassian knew before it happened that it had been the wrong thing to say. Bryaxis shifted into a snarling beast with long, sharp claws that curled into the ground. In a moment, his teeth were as long as Cassian’s forearm and he stalked towards Tomas, black fur bristling on his neck and back.

Bryaxis stood almost three times taller than the man, and he looked ready to tear Tomas’ head clean off of his body.

“Oh, fuck,” Tomas said.

He held his sword out with shaking hands, prepared to fight. At least, until Bryaxis roared in his face.

Then the coward ran. He dashed back towards his horse tied to the edge of the clearing, Bryaxis snapping at his heels for the first few steps.

His horse’s eyes were milky white with fear, and she reared, yanking Tomas so hard that Cassian thought his arm might be pulled out of his socket.

Tomas yanked the horse back down. “You stupid beast!” he seethed, climbing up onto her back and digging his heels into her side until she uneasily started running through the trees.

Cassian would have let out a sigh of relief, if getting rid of Tomas was the only challenge he faced. But Bryaxis turned, still in his beast form, and eyed Cassian and the sword still at attention in his hand.

Don’t mind Bryaxis. He doesn’t bite, unless you do first.

Praying that the witch had told him the truth yesterday, he dropped it, raising his arms placatingly. “I, uh, I don’t want a fight,” he said. 

Bryaxis prowled closer, his breath smelling like a rotten carcass. When was the last time the woman cleaned his teeth? Did he even allow her to clean his teeth? 

Bryaxis huffed in Cassian’s face, and heat prickled at his ears. But then Bryaxis stepped back and sat back on his haunches, letting out a small groan. Within a few seconds he shifted back into a cat, weaving through Cassian’s legs and purring once more.

It didn’t set him at ease. His heart still hammered in his chest. Now he knew what had left Kallon in such a state only a few days ago.

It was safe to say that he had no intention of getting on Bryaxis’ bad side anytime soon.

“So,” he said. “Not a cat.”

The witch hummed anxiously, her eyes on the treeline. He took a deep breath as his heart settled, then he dared to approach her in the doorway.

“Will he remember?” Cassian asked, as she watched Tomas disappear.

“No,” she said, her voice distant. “He’ll forget almost everything as soon as he’s about a mile out.”

“Bryaxis took a long time to step in,” he commented. It was a question, of sorts, of why the witch had the cat wait.

She merely sighed. “I knew him once. I wanted to see if he’d changed. Apparently, he hasn’t.”

If it was even possible, Cassian hated Tomas even more—for crimes that he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d committed yet. Something about this woman had him coming to her defense, even though he was the last person who should.

He’d insulted her, and she probably wanted nothing to do with him. Even still, he wasn’t going to leave her with the likes of Tomas, Bryaxis or no.

She was rattled, that much was clear. As much as the rest of her was an unrelenting fortress, it was her eyes that gave her away—wide as they continued to watch the spot that Tomas disappeared through, not an ounce of silver anger to be found.

He needed to get her mind off it, off him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said softly, laying a hand on her wrist. “Let’s go inside. He’s not coming back.”

It was instant, the way everything shifted. That nervousness shifted to indignation. Fear to bitterness. 

Cassian loved storms. As a boy he’d stay up listening to them rattling the windows, streaks of lightning spreading across the sky. Something about them soothed him while scaring others, and he felt safe listening to the long rolls of thunder.

And she was one, staring him down with pure electricity. She could strike him down with one single blow if she wanted.

Silver returned. There she was.

“I don’t recall extending you an invitation.” Yesterday, her words hadn’t been so distant. Short and snarky, yes, but there had been an undertone of sly amusement before he’d well and truly messed everything up. “I thought I told you to leave yesterday.”

“You did.” 

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

Cassian still didn’t know exactly what he’d say once he got here, and convinced her to listen to him. But he needed to say something.

He thought back to Tomas leaving, and the comment she made when he did.

“You said you wanted to see if Tomas had changed,” Cassian began. “So? Do you think a man can change?”

“What are you getting at, Sir Cassian?”

“It’s just Cassian.”

She let out a small huff, and asked again, “What do you want, Cassian?”

“I came to apologize,” he said. He could feel her watching, studying him with those pale blue eyes that he wanted more than a mere glimpse of. “How I spoke to you was out of line, and I’m ashamed of it. I’m sorry.”

“Anything else?” she asked. “You came all the way out here just to apologize?”

“Nothing else,” he said. “I am truly sorry.”

Her lips set into a line as she thought. The seconds ticked by, and he had the suspicion that she would tell him to leave again. Would once again call him unworthy.

But then, she did the last thing he expected. The set of her shoulders relaxed, and she gave him the tiniest dip of her chin in acceptance.

“I respect a man who can admit his mistakes.” 

She took in a breath, as if she were considering saying something else, but then she let it go. “Come inside. You’re helping me today.”

And that was that. Cassian spent the rest of the morning doing as the witch instructed, chopping and scraping and grounding until his hands were sore. He found that he didn’t mind, that it was nice to put his sword down for a little while. 

While they were cleaning up, Cassian couldn’t help but wonder. He asked the question before he could think better of it.

“What does this matter to you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why do you care who the princess marries?”

“You’re moving into dangerous territory,” she said. “Remember what happened yesterday?”

“Answer it anyway,” he said, “You know her, don’t you?”

“This is how you wish to win me over?”

“Not really, I was just curious.”

For a while, he didn’t think she’d answer. 

She handed him some mushrooms from the other side of the clearing, asking if he knew how to cook. He sighed and brought down a pan from the rack he ran into the day before, assuming the conversation was over.

The mushrooms and a few other vegetables spit and popped in the iron pan, and the witch was happy to watch as he cooked for both of them.

While his back was turned, she said, “I do know her. We grew up together.”

That hadn’t been what he was expecting her to say. He didn’t know why he imagined her growing up solely in these woods, outcast from society. Ignorance, maybe.

“You grew up in the castle?”

“You could say that.”

The answer roused a much longer list of questions, ones he didn’t think she’d be willing to answer.

Who are you, that you know the princess so closely? Why distance yourself out here? Just…why?

“Who are you?” he asked. He moved the now finished vegetables to the side, approaching her at the table. 

“No one you would know,” she said.

She loved to evade his questions, he realized. Or, possibly, there was something about opening up to him that absolutely terrified her.

“Can I look at your face?” he asked.

She didn’t seem to like the idea of that, letting out a huff and leaning back in her chair. “I think you’ve seen enough, haven’t you?”

“I don’t think I have,” he said. 

She didn’t make a sound. 

“If you’re no one that I know, it shouldn’t matter, right?”

She didn’t outright deny him. Instead, she seemed to ponder over what he said, and she stood and took hesitant steps forward until she was right in front of him.

“You can’t tell any of the others what you see,” she insisted.

He felt it in the air, how vulnerable she was allowing herself to be. He’d make sure he never gave her a reason to regret it.

“I won’t. I swear it, on my honor.”

She inhaled sharply, then gave him the slightest nod in permission.

He took the edges of her hood in his hands. Even before he brought it down, he could almost see what was underneath. But when it was down fully…

He couldn’t say a word. Not when the angles of her face were so striking, when her beauty was so absolutely devastating that Cassian thought he might crumble.

Just as he suspected, perfect, golden brown hair framed her face, and her eyes were the most enchanting shade of blue-gray. She was young, perhaps a year or two less than his twenty four. And as embarrassing as it was to admit, Cassian had a purely male reaction.

He simply couldn’t speak, unless the word was one syllable and absolutely meaningless. So he didn’t.

This woman would be his undoing. He couldn’t come back again, because who knew what strings they would pull if he did. Whose bed they might end up in, what bridges they couldn’t uncross.

No. It had to end today. As much as he hated it, it had to end today. The witch had her life, and he had his. 

He resisted the urge to reach for her, instead barely managing to keep the fabric of her cloak between his fingers.

“See? Nothing to look at,” she said, being the first to break away.

Cassian disagreed.

***

In the late afternoon he found her on the edge of the fenceline, a book in her hand while making a practiced motion with her arm.

She was speaking softly, repeating the same phrase over and over, and he could see the soft glimmer of her magic taking hold on the perimeter of the property.

Her magic—he didn’t have words to describe it. It held a silver shimmer, and when it concentrated it almost looked like silver fire.

She was warding, he realized. He didn’t know why he expected something else.

“You have defensive magic,” he said.

She paused in her incantation, and the silver fire faded in small wisps. “That surprises you?”

“If I’m speaking honestly, yes,” he said. “Witches don’t have the best reputation.”

Thankfully, she didn’t get upset by it. She merely asked him another question.

“Yet you came to my aid. Why?”

Her eyes met his, the setting sun making her hair look like molten gold. “Because I don’t know the whole story.” 

He added, “And I want to know it.”

She stood there like a queen, watching him with proud eyes and a stance that he’d seen time and time again with his fellow warriors.

He had to admit, she was striking. He’d seen a lot of beautiful women, but she surpassed mere beauty. She was everything strong and fierce and commanding, and he couldn’t for the life of him explain why he was so drawn to it.

She must have seen something true in his face, because her next words were, “Come.” 

Cassian made his way over until he was standing at her side. He stood close enough so that he could see the drawings in the book over her shoulder. Now that he was next to her, now that she let him closer, her voice turned softer. Not by much, but enough that he could tell that she was trying to connect with him in her own way, by sharing something precious to her.

“So little of what I do revolves around curses and jinxes. Most of what I do is this, and healing,” she explained.

“Do you ever perform those?” he asked.

“Would it make you think differently if I said yes?”

“I think it depends.”

She returned her attention to the book, not looking at him as she said, “I only sell those if it’s necessary.”

Cassian didn’t know what to do with that. All he had were the stories—of good men being cursed with misfortune, with no discernible cure in sight.

She went silent next to him, as if she was expecting the worst. 

Maybe she had a good reason. Maybe she deserved the benefit of the doubt. He’d assumed poorly yesterday, and that had blown up in his face, making him say things he regretted.

Today was a new day. He could choose not to believe the worst in her, and maybe she might do the same.

So he said, “Will you show me what you’re doing?”

The witch let out a soft breath, as if his lack of condemnation meant something to her. She held up the book a little closer so he could see.

“I need to draw the rune with my magic, and say the incantation,” she explained. “The drawings here are for practice. They don’t do anything.”

He looked over her shoulder, having to stop himself from reaching over and tracing her immaculate drawings with his finger.

As he pressed up against her, he resisted the urge to settle his hand on her waist. That would be entirely inappropriate. Her breath hitched as his chest brushed against her, a sound so lovely that it was pure music to his ears.

He cleared his throat. “So, you draw it in the air? And it just works?”

She chuckled. “Something like that.”

She pointed to one of the runes on the page she had open. “This one makes a shield. It’s strong enough to discourage unwanted attention from the men that show up on my doorstep.”

“I was able to walk in.”

She said without pausing, “Your attention was not unwanted.”

She could have locked him out without a second thought, after their fight yesterday. Yet she let him come back inside and apologize.

His mouth parted, then closed, but she continued on. “It’s not impenetrable, though. If any do get past it, that’s what Bryaxis is for.”

Like with Tomas.

“You’re trusting me with all of this?” was the only thing he could ask. A lesser man could sell out this information, leaving her for dead.

“I am,” she said. “Because I do think that under all that arrogance, and bravado, there is a good man. One that I don’t think would betray my confidence.” 

She turned, so that her chest was almost touching his.

Almost.

“Am I wrong?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t do that.” 

“I know,” she said simply.

Cassian shook his head. “I just don’t understand. You’re giving me the benefit of the doubt, when I have done nothing to deserve it.”

Her eyes softened. “You did the same for me,” she countered. “You put down your sword yesterday, and today, when most other knights wouldn’t hesitate to attack. That means something.” 

“That should be common courtesy.”

She shrugged. “It isn’t. It’s why I let you inside, and why I allowed you back today.”

“Your bar is exceptionally low.”

Her lips curved upwards. “Perhaps.”

She brushed a strand of her hair behind her delicate ear, and Cassian tracked the entire movement, not able to look away. “I’m sorry, too,” she said.

“For what?”

“For saying that I think you’re unworthy. I was angry, but I shouldn’t have said what I did. I believe you may be the most worthy of them all.”

Hope fluttered in his chest. “So, you’ll give me the sword?”

And just like that, it was gone—that moment of vulnerability between them dissolved. Her gaze hardened, and she turned away.

“You can’t marry her. My answer is the same.”

He remained silent.

“I know that’s why you came back. Why you…apologized to me in the first place,” she continued.

“I came back to apologize because I was wrong,” he said. “You hit a nerve, and I lashed out. But I do want to marry her.”

“You don’t know her. How can you marry a woman you don’t know?”

He didn’t have an answer to that, but he insisted, “I would be good to her.”

Her silence was a long one. “After what I’ve seen, I don’t doubt that. But my answer is no.”

She didn’t look his way again, returning to her warding. Her voice was quieter now, almost remorseful, as if she expected him to say something harsh.

He wouldn’t repeat his mistakes.

He stalked off before he could say anything he’d regret.

***

Her golden hair fell down until it tickled against his chest. She moved on top of him, naked and glistening, shaking as she took exactly what she needed from him.

The muscles of her thighs clenched around his waist as she let out a long moan, orgasming around him and slumping forward.

“Cassian,” she whispered.

He pulled her onto him, desperate to chase his own release.

“I–” he tried to say her name desperately. But it wasn’t there on his tongue, as much as he wanted it to be.

He was close. He was–

Cassian woke with a jolt, sweating as he sat up in his bed. His pulse threatened to explode in his throat, and he combed his now damp hair away from his face.

“Fuck.”

***

Before he could question what he was doing, he was saddling Ruby up yet again and making his way through the village.

Never mind that he’d sworn he wouldn’t go back. He told himself it was because there was still a chance he could change her mind. Yes. He could work with that.

The witch was tending to her garden, pulling weeds and gathering herbs into her basket when he arrived.

Her hair was pulled into a messy braid over her shoulder. He was hit with the urge to pull that braid apart, weaving her hair through his fingers as his dream came back to him in full force—the sound of her moaning on top of him, and the silver that blazed as she came around him.

Stop it.

He offered her his usual smile, and she pursed her lips in what he could tell was mock annoyance.

“You came back,” she said.

“I did.”

“My answer isn’t changing.”

“I think you’ll find I can be rather convincing.”

Play with me, he thought.

She seemed amused, if anything, and said, “I suppose we’ll see.”

They moved inside, the witch cleaning the dirt off of her hands. “You still don’t know her,” she said, pondering. “I do wonder how you intend to fix that.”

He dared to say, “And if I came to get to know you?”

She let out a huff of laughter. “Then I would say you were foolish, and to not return.” She gave him a knowing look. “But you haven’t said that, have you?”

He knew what she was truly saying. As long as they didn’t acknowledge it, she would play along. She’d let him come back.

“No,” he agreed. “I haven’t.”

But even still, her eyes glimmered. “Do try to change my mind, Sir Cassian. I’m curious to see what methods you employ.”

He almost smiled at her then, but before he could, the witch froze, looking distantly over his shoulder through the window.

He turned to see what she was looking at, but she didn’t let him.

“Don’t,” she snapped, stepping up and stopping him with a hand to his chin. It was stupid for his gut reaction to be that this was the first time she had touched him willingly. It was like he was a damn teenager all over again, desperate for any form of touch.

She was pressed fully up against his chest, her breasts pushing into him, and he blinked as he tried to pretend this was the most normal thing in the world.

Foolishly, he thought she might kiss him. But that was the lust-addled part of his brain speaking, for the witch then dragged him along and shoved him into a closet, hissing at him. 

“Do not, under any circumstances, leave this room unless I tell you to. And do not try to look.”

The door slammed in his face. He fell back into the clutter and scowled as something jammed into his arm.

She rustled around the cottage, clearly looking for something while muttering under her breath, before the cottage door opened.

There were two sets of creaking footsteps. Another feminine voice filled the room. They talked for a while, most of the conversation indiscernible, but he could pick up a word every now and then.

They were talking about a man, from what he could understand. Cassian leaned back, trying not to listen.

It didn’t work entirely. The second woman started crying, and the witch’s voice turned soothing, more so than he’d ever heard it.

“Here,” the witch said. “This will help. And if it doesn’t, you know where to find me.”

He heard the muffled sound of crying for a few more minutes, along with the occasional murmur of encouragement from the witch. Then the gentle croak of the door as the witch led the woman outside.

Once the door was closed, he heard the long, frustrated sigh that came afterwards. Then the door to the closet opened, the witch standing on the other side of it.

“You can come out.”

Cassian stumbled out of the dark closet, coughing up dust as he knocked over something wooden on the side.

The witch looked tired, her normally bright eyes dull and weary. Seeing this woman, whoever she was, had taken something from her.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“She doesn’t want anyone to know,” she said tiredly.

“She was crying. And you calmed her down.”

A muscle ticked in her jaw. 

“I know you men find this hard to believe, but I am not a monster,” she snapped at him, letting the bite leak into her tone. “Just because you all don’t have sympathy doesn’t mean I don’t, either.”

“I never thought you were,” he said honestly. After yesterday he thought they’d made some progress. But he was forced to admit that there were likely still misconceptions, on both their parts.

He didn’t know where the second half of what she said came from. But she’d been patient with him, so perhaps he could afford her the same courtesy.

“And I know it may still take some convincing, but I’m not one, either.”

He gave her a few seconds to calm down. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes while she sunk into a chair.

“No. I know you’re not,” she said, softer. “I’m sorry.”

He’d already forgiven her. 

He asked, “How did she find you here?”

“Anyone who needs me can find their way here with ease.” She waved her hand. “Magic.”

He had to admit, that made very little sense. But Cassian wasn’t a witch. He wasn’t well-versed in how their magic worked, or the intricacies of it. He was willing to learn, though.

He thought about how he’d just known where to find her, how he’d felt guided somehow. That string in his chest had brought him here, not just once, but three times.

Was that her magic? Or had it been something else? Fate, perhaps?

Cassian pushed those questions aside.

“Why does she come to you?” he asked.

The witch considered his question for a long moment before answering. “Some knights beat their wives. Take them against their will, too. Did you know that?”

That wasn’t what he was expecting her to say. He blinked.

He knew it happened. Though the knights in question never talked about it openly, for it was shameful to treat a woman like that, it did happen.

“I do.”

“You asked me yesterday if I perform curses and jinxes. I give them to the women who ask for them, and those that need them desperately. No one else.”

“And for the women who really need it, I help them escape,” she said. “Them and their children, if they need to.”

Not a soulless witch at all, he thought. He felt a lot of things then. Guilt for assuming and for his ignorance, and a newfound respect for the woman.

Her magic was beautiful. It healed and protected, which was a far cry from the stories and the warnings he had been raised on. Hell, even stepping into the clearing gave him a sense of peace that he now didn’t know how to live without.

“That’s very brave of you,” he said, his tone soft and serious.

Curiosity sparked in her gaze for the first time in this conversation. 

“What is bravery to you, Sir Cassian?” she asked.

“Just Cassian,” he said.

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Answer the question.”

Bravery was protecting those who needed it. It meant putting himself in between a beast and a child, risking himself so that others had a chance at safety.

He said as such. 

The witch gave him a small smile. “Bravery isn’t all swords and slaying beasts,” she said. “Do you understand?”

He’d never thought of any alternative. But after hearing that woman cry on the witch’s shoulder, and knowing that she was going to return to her husband…

It made him sick. He’d always known it happened, but had turned a blind eye because it simply wasn’t talked about.

Maybe there was more than one type of bravery, and more than one type of feat to be celebrated. 

What if there was more to being a hero than he thought?

For ages, he’d thought this forest was home to only monsters. But maybe not all monsters lived in the woods, and maybe not all heroes wore shining armor and lived behind palace walls.

Maybe one of those heroes was here, living among the beasts. As he looked at the witch’s face, he could see it. This woman was brave and honorable and charitable, and everything he wished to be. And she hadn’t slain a single monster in her life.

“I think I’m starting to.”

***

Her answer never changed. Not that he expected it to.

He was supposed to go rescue a princess, but this woman looked like a queen in her own right. And sometimes it was all he could do to stop himself from bowing at her feet and swearing fealty.

He found himself obsessed. There was no logical explanation for it. Cassian returned the next day, and the next, and every time the look on her face was a little less surprised. Every day, he grew a little bit less sure of his purpose. Of his destiny.

“Why do you keep coming back?” she asked. “You know my answer.”

“I don’t know.”

Because there’s something about you that keeps drawing me back. Because I can’t stay away. Because I want to know what your hair feels like between my fingers, and the way your name sounds on my tongue–

He forced himself to stop thinking about it. No. He couldn’t fall for the witch. That would be a disaster of epic proportions. He didn’t even know her name.

Never mind that he had come to love the silence of the woods, the only sound being the music of the wind darting through the trees and the babbling of the small creek across the clearing. Or that they so often fell into a gentle companionship that had Cassian staring in awe, watching her furrowed brow as she muttered spells and put together her potions.

He was merely…fascinated. And she was fascinated with him, too. That was all it was. She’d forget all about him once he fulfilled his quest, and then he’d go back, the princess in hand, and…

That unsettling feeling sunk in his stomach again. He’d never forget her. He didn’t know if he ever could.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.

Her question broke him out of the cycle of his thoughts. She’d come inside from the garden carrying a basket of vegetables. He nodded, and she moved to go place the basket on the counter.

When she walked by him, though, he grabbed onto her wrist, forcing her to stop. 

“Tell me your name?” he begged.

Her gaze fell to where he held her wrist, then her gaze softened as she returned it back to his face. “My name is Nes.”

“Nes,” he said, sounding it out.

Somehow, it was perfect.

***

They stopped talking about the princess entirely. 

Cassian helped in the garden, or wherever she instructed him to. He learned that she loved music, and loved to dance when she was able. He wanted to bring her to the great hall someday to dance with her, although he didn’t say that, because he knew she would shut him out afterwards.

And she learned with great joy that he knew how to cook. She’d watch from the table, smiling softly as she pretended she focused on her notebook, but they both knew the reality of which they would not speak of.

She answered his questions. He answered hers. Slowly she opened up to him, and they both said nothing about the afternoons when she accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder while he read her books that were dirtier than he could imagine.

She listened as he told stories of him and his brothers growing up, and she smiled fondly as she spoke of her and her sisters. They had an interesting relationship, from what he could tell. She always avoided telling him any details about them, never even mentioning their names, which he found slightly odd.

She stopped asking why he was there, because internally they both knew that the answer had changed. So she didn’t ask, and he didn’t admit to anything. 

Knights came by every so often. She always shoved him in the cottage when they did, and he watched from the corner of the window as she wrapped her blue cloak around herself.

Most tried to attack on sight. Once Bryaxis shifted, only a few of them ever continued to hold up their sword. Oftentimes they went running, just as Tomas did.

Tomas was the only one that had rattled her, it seemed. He didn’t push, but she seemed grateful every time he asked if she was alright when she came back inside.

Stragglers came by sometimes, too. People who required her healing services, or a special potion or spell. Once she was drawn back to the city to help with a woman giving labor, and Cassian found himself back at the palace for the rest of the afternoon with no idea what to do with himself.

Today, Nes had him collecting larger stones from the edges of her clearing to place in her garden bed. He cupped water from the stream when he was finished, letting it wash away the sweat on his face, before heading inside.

Nes was struggling to reach a plate at the top of the cabinet.

“This damned…dish,” she muttered to herself, on the very tips of her toes, looking like she was about to fall over.

“Here, I’ll–”

He leaned into her space to grab it for her, his arms reaching high up. He pressed against the back of her body, and he felt every single curve up against his chest.

She seemed to realize the position they were in at the same time he did, slowly turning to face him.

She didn’t push him away. Instead her lips parted, barely an inch, and her hands tightened on the edge of the counter behind her.

Nes didn’t move as he pressed in closer, only a few inches away from her. He lifted her chin with his fingers.

There wasn’t a sound. In the pure serenity of the cottage, there wasn’t a single sound, save for the soft exhale from Nes as Cassian leaned even closer, and the slight rustle as the wind tapped on her glass windows.

Cassian didn’t know who closed the rest of the distance first. But before he could question what he was doing, his lips were on hers, soft and tentative as he explored. He gave in to his fantasy, bringing her golden hair between the pads of his fingers and inhaling her scent.

Honeysuckle. Loveliest when it bloomed in the secrets of the dark, sweet in its own private paradise. Somehow she bloomed out here, in a place with no light. Somehow she made it her own, made this dark corner of the world a little more lovely.

He shouldn’t be doing this. But that first brush of her lips had him deciding that he simply didn’t care. 

He didn’t care.

Whatever consequences came of this, he’d face them with honor. He couldn’t resist it anymore, this growing attraction that had turned to full blown lust and possibly even more.

Her fingers curled on the leather on top of his shoulders. He swallowed her gasp with his lips, pushing her open even further with his tongue, desperate to taste more.

Nothing mattered, if it meant he couldn’t have her at least once. Even if once was all they had. He’d selfishly let himself have a taste before their paths no longer had a reason to cross.

His hand cupped her breast, perfect and full in his palm. He pulled her up against him, letting her feel the growing desire he had for her, and her mouth parted as she let out a moan.

It was music to his ears. A symphony.

“I want you. Now, sweetheart.”

“I want–” she said, in the second between kisses, pulling him to her with anything her hands could grip. “Cassian.”

“Nes.”

She pressed her hips into him as he kissed down her neck, guiding her head back from where he held her hair with his other hand.

He brought that delicate skin of her throat between his teeth, nipping slightly, but not enough to bruise. She shuddered, exposing herself to him even further as he made his way down to her chest.

He was struck with it then. A taste never would have been enough. He would have found himself on the precipice here, time and time again, caught in a web he’d never be able to escape.

He wasn’t certain he’d ever want to escape.

“I’m taking this off,” he said. His hands circled around to the back of her gown, meaning to undo the laces. 

That was her line drawn in the sand.

Nes jolted, gasping as she broke apart from him and latching onto his wrists with her hands, seemingly remembering who they were and why, exactly, this was a bad idea.

“Wait.” Her hands tightened around his wrists. “Stop.”

He did instantly, pulling back to check on her. Her entire face was flushed, lips glistening. Her eyes were wide.

“Nes?” he asked, softer.

“I-” 

She didn’t have to tell him her heart was hammering. He could sense it, convincing himself he could feel it through her palms.

“Have you done this before?” He had to ask. Given that she didn’t invite anyone in here, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that she hadn’t.

But she scowled, thankfully taking away that wide-eyed look, and said, “Of course I have.”

“Ok. Still, we don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry that I took liberties.”

He didn’t move a muscle as she leaned back. He monitored her every movement and facial expression, but she’d gone nearly unreadable.

Her hands still held his own with a death grip. With a blink she released them, in turn placing her shaking hands on his chest. 

“It’s getting dark,” the witch said. “You should go.”

It wasn’t getting dark. He’d stayed much longer only two days ago, only going back when the sun dipped behind the line of trees surrounding the clearing.

He didn’t want to go. 

“I should?” he asked. 

“Yes.”

He brought his hands down to her, stroking them softly. Nes tensed and moved back, and he immediately regretted it—doing something that made her uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine. You did nothing wrong. I did want it.”

She still couldn’t look at him.

“Nes,” he said, watching the shudder go through her from him saying her name. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right,” she said, her voice sounding like an echo. “Tomorrow.”

***

When Cassian arrived the next morning, the witch was waiting for him.

He’d barely slept the night before, tossing and turning as he thought about their kiss. The way she felt in his arms. How she said his name.

How she stepped away.

The gold of her hair once again made its way into his dreams, and he found himself being awoken by the sound of her name falling from his lips.

Nes.

Something was different today. It was quiet this morning. The chattering was merely a whisper as he left the palace. No humming filled the clearing when he arrived, and the birds didn’t chitter in the way they normally did.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say there wasn’t a soul to be found. But Nes was here, waiting for him. He knew that before he even walked inside.

He ducked his head under the doorframe to find her curled up in a chair by the window, her gaze set on the floor.

“Hi,” he said, offering an awkward smile in an attempt to break the silence.

Nes remained silent, keeping her eyes cast down, bringing her blanket tighter around her.

That uneasy feeling returned. Something was definitely wrong, he could tell. Cassian didn’t think he messed up too badly last night. She’d said she wanted it as he left. He shifted his weight to his other foot as nerves got the better of him.

“About last night—”

“The sword is on the table,” she cut in, not letting him finish. “You can take it.”

A glance confirmed her words. A large broadsword neatly sat on the table, gleaming in a way natural silver didn’t. He opened his mouth to protest, but his throat had gone dry. He couldn’t speak.

This was supposed to be what he wanted. Wasn’t it? It was why he told himself he was coming back every day, even if he knew it was a lie.

“You wanted to be worthy of a princess? Well, there’s the sword. I’ve deemed you worthy.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Silence fell. Then he said, “I don’t understand. Are we not going to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

He took a step forward. “Really?” he asked, with a soft calm. 

Nes glared at him. “I thought this was what you wanted. What other reason could you have for being here?”

Cassian stared at her incredulously. “You know that I’ve been coming here because–”

“No,” she said, cutting him off. “Don’t. I told you not to do that.”

What had she said that one time? That he would be foolish if she was the person he was coming to see. She had told him. And he’d stupidly gotten attached anyway. Tears threatened to burn in his eyes, and as he stared at the sword, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Didn’t she know? Didn’t she know how she now haunted his every thought, his every dream?

Her voice went softer, but it was still firm. “Take the sword, Cassian. Present it to the princess. You’ll have everything you’ve always wanted. You’ll have fulfilled your destiny.”

It felt wrong, leaving her. But he met her unflinching eyes one last time. Nothing softened in them. Nothing gave him any indication that she would change her mind.

“This is what you want?”

“I want you to be happy.” She swallowed, and looked away. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, Sir Cassian. Go and find it.”

“Cassian,” he said. “It’s just Cassian.”

“Right,” she said. But even as she said it, he knew. His name would never fall from her mouth again. Once he left through that door, she’d never have a reason to say it.

He didn’t want to walk through that door.

“It has been an honor, my lady,” he said quietly, before taking the sword she offered and tearing his eyes from her for the last time.

Cassian walked through the door.

[guardian-of-time-if]

Final Days with MC Snippet: Gaderous

So it's been a hot minute since I posted the rest of these snippets, but this one was giving me trouble. Gat is one of the harder characters for me to write, and I struggled with this scenario. His will be the last one in the set (sorry Sentinel) because I cannot think of a scene with Sentinel that would fit the prompt as he also has a long lifespan.

An unusually warm autumn breeze swept through the air, brushing against Gat’s cheek. He sucks in the warm air from his spot against the towering oak tree. The weather was perfect for a nice quiet picnic, something so familiar it took little effort to get right at this point. 

He twists a flower between his fingers. If she was any later, he would keep them. He smiles to himself at the thought before setting it back in the place he arranged for it. His smile drops when he notices the flower seems out of place, and leans forward to adjust it again. He shouldn’t have picked it up even if he was bored. Now, he’s never going to get it back in it’s proper place.

“It’s just a flower Gaderous,” a voice calls out, grabbing his attention. “You’re not performing emergency surgery in the middle of a battlefield.”

Gat smiles, rising to greet his lover. “Unlike the healers you’re used to, beautiful, I give every patient my undivided attention, however insignificant they might seem to the rest of the world.”

“Is that why you pay so much attention to me?”

“You are not one of my patients,” he says, as they sit down. “You have my undivided attention because you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen walk the face of Tarken.”

She laughs. “Have you been reading poetry again, or are you trying to get me to agree to something you know I don’t want to do?”

“Oh, I definitely want something, but I’d bet money, its something you want to.”

She gives him the side eye. “This I’ve got to hear.”

Instead of answering, he reaches over and pulls her into his lap. 

“Gaderous!” She yelps, and he responds by kissing her ear.

“I was hoping for a kiss, but we can eat first since I made the effort.”

“Considering you made the effort because it’s my birthday, I think I get to decide what we do after we eat.”

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, earning himself a brief smack on the chest with no force behind it. 

“You know it is. After this many years you better know.”

“Or maybe I’m just getting old enough to not remember anything.”

She rolls her eyes, and reaches for some of the fruit, but doesn’t move out of his lap. As they eat, Gat tries to keep a perfect balance in the atmosphere between lighthearted banter, reminiscing, and flirting.

“What’s wrong?” She asks after Gat finishes a joke.

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re trying too hard. When you’re trying not to think about things, you occupy your mind with other things like the exact position of flowers.”

“What if I just really want to impress you?”

She rolls her eyes. “We’ve been together for decades at this point. You don’t need to impress me with a date.”

“We could be together for ten thousand years, and I would still spend every day of my life trying to impress you.”

“Gaderous,” she pleads, drawing out his name.

He sighs. “Fine. How long are we going to pretend this is normal?”

“What are we pretending is normal?”

“We celebrate your birthday every year as if it actually matters. You’re not actually getting older.”

“You want to stop celebrating my birthday?” She asks, drawing her eyebrows together.

“No. I-” He gently moves her off his lap. “You’re aging, and I’m not. I didn’t realize how weird it was going to be until we got here.”

“I-”

“Someone actually asked me the other day if you were my daughter.”

Her eyes double in size, and she coughs. “Daughter?!’

He nods. “We have now gotten to the point where I look old enough to be your dad. That’s weird, or at least it feels weird. Even outside of the appearance thing, I’m starting to notice that my mind is slipping. I made a joke about forgetting your birthday earlier, but I have been forgetting things more lately, and I’m not getting around as easily as I used to.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” She asks, cupping his cheek.

“I didn’t want you to worry, but it has made me wonder, if you wouldn’t be happier without me.”

“Don’t say that,” she chides. “We’re in this together.”

“Before you helped me escape the cult, a lot of our members asked me to check on their elderly family members. Those visits were always rough. People becoming fragments of who they once were. I don’t want you to remember me that way.”

“Gat,” she breathes out his name.

“It would be one thing, if it was reciprocal, and we were both aging together, but it’s just me. I can’t do that to you.”

“Shouldn’t I get to decide that?” She asks, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“Obviously what you want matters, but even if you are willing to, I don’t want you to stay and watch me deteriorate.”

“Gaderous, look at me,” she orders. “Do not push me away from you because you’re afraid of getting old.”

“I’m not afraid of getting old. I’m afraid of losing myself. That aging will change who I am enough that I won’t be me anymore.” He leans his head into the crook of her neck. “I didn’t want to do this to you today.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she assures. “I’d rather know what’s troubling you.”

“I’d rather go back to trying my hardest not to think about it, if it's all the same to you.”

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #23 (part one)

previous // next // story index

__________

Yuri

Complacency is dangerous.

I’m sorry to say, this week I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. More than sorry, in fact. I bitterly regret that yet again I failed to see something which should have been obvious, because I was so wrapped up in the illusion of my perfect little life. That’s my weakness. I know it now, and I know I have to change, not just for myself but for Victor too.

The problem is, I think I’m scared of the real world. The one I’ve been believing in is so much better. In that one, there’s always someone to take care of me, shower me with affection, protect me and shelter me from everything that’s bad. But in the real world, there’s pain, stress and complex interpersonal relationships, and there are no heroes who'll swoop in to save the day and create a happy ending.

Even the strongest people are fallible. Even the ones who love us most can still hurt us. Even the ones we feel safest with can’t shield us from everything. Unfortunately for me, I’ve often forgotten those truths, or chosen to overlook them because they were too hard to face.

All I’ve ever wanted is to be happy and safe. Until I met Victor, I didn’t know what happiness or safety felt like, and once I understood how good it was not to be sad and afraid all the time, I never wanted to experience anything that challenged or scared me ever again. I was sure I’d found a willing protector in Victor, and I’d selfishly placed almost all the burden of responsibility for my happiness and safety on him, and took on very little for myself. Worse, I don’t think I’ve ever taken nearly enough responsibility for his happiness, much less my own.

That position is unsustainable, and I wish I would’ve figured it out sooner.

If I could rewind time and go back to last Wednesday morning, I would, and I’d make different choices. The first thing I would do would be to insist that Victor call in sick from work. We might’ve avoided a lot of trouble if he’d stayed home. I might not have learned anything in that case, but at least no one would’ve gotten hurt.

Victor hadn’t been feeling well when he woke up on Wednesday. I may actually have realized he was getting sick before he did, because he was coughing through the night and it woke me up. As I was trying to get back to sleep, I noticed his breathing sounded different than normal. Most people might not even pay attention to that, but I’m ill so often myself that I think I’ve developed some sort of hyper-vigilance for signs of illness in others.

In all honesty, I’d actually expected him to stay home on Wednesday and was surprised when he chose not to. He did stay home on Thursday and Friday though, and as much as I dislike not being close to him, we mostly avoided each other in the hope that it’d lessen my chances of catching his cold. Maybe that’s something I’d want us to do differently if given a second chance as well.

On Saturday morning, I answered my phone to a woman who introduced herself as Tomiko Izumi, Victor’s boss. The fitness center is open seven days a week, but Victor only works from Tuesday to Friday, so I was a caught little off guard by the call. I don’t know why, but for some reason I’d assumed he and his supervisor would work the same shift.

“I tried calling Victor’s phone, but he isn’t answering,” Tomiko said. “This number was listed as his emergency contact.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m Yuri, his spouse.”

I'll confess, I like saying that. It requires less explanation than ‘soulmate’ and seems to carry more power. We’ll always be soulmates, but in certain circumstances, following the path of least resistance is what’s called for.

“Well, I guess you’re best placed to know when he intends to come back to work,” Tomiko said. “That’s what I’m calling about.”

“I’ll have to get him to call you,” I told her. “I’m not sure when he’ll be ready either. Hopefully by Tuesday, though.”

Tomiko and I chatted for a couple of minutes, and she gave me some instructions to pass along to Victor.

“I hope he gets well soon,” she said. “Everyone at the centre misses him.”

“I’ll let him know,” I said, and then we exchanged goodbyes, and hung up.

After getting off the phone with Tomiko, I went to Victor’s room to check on him. I hadn’t been in his room more than twice since Wednesday evening. It felt a little strange to simply walk in, even though that’s what we both typically do when we enter each other's room. As I crossed the threshold, I wondered if I should have knocked.

The first thing I noticed was that he had his normal colour back, not pale like he’d been on Wednesday, and not flushed with fever like he’d been overnight on Thursday.

His eyes were closed, but I could tell he wasn’t asleep. I knelt beside the bed and touched his arm. "Hey,” I said. “It’s almost ten o'clock.”

It took him a second to acknowledge me, but finally he said, “Okay.”

“You’re looking much better,” I observed. “How are you feeling?”

He made a sound that was like the vocal equivalent of a shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Do you feel like getting up?”

“No,” he said.

“Do you want some tea, or something to eat?”

“No.”

“Your boss called,” I told him.

“Uh-huh.”

“She wants to know if you’re still sick. She says if you’re not going to be back by the time your shift starts on Tuesday, you’ll need a doctor’s note.”

“Okay.”

“So, do you want me to take you to the doctor, or do you think you’ll be better after the weekend?”

“I’m not going to the stupid doctor,” he said testily. “I probably won’t be better, but if my boss wants me at work on Tuesday, I’ll be there.”

“If you’re not better, she’s not expecting you back,” I assured him. I reached out to caress his cheek. “It’s okay. I can take you to the clinic. It’ll be—”

He nudged my hand away from his face. “Yuri, I said I’m not going to the doctor,” he snapped. “How many times do I have to say it?”

His tone was like a slap. Victor had never spoken to me like that before, and the shock and hurt I felt seemed almost physical. I was willing to accept a little irritability, considering that he wasn’t feeling well, but I was not at all prepared for such an irrationally angry reaction over my simple suggestion of going to the medical clinic for a quick examination and a doctor’s note.

“I… I’m sorry. I heard you the first time,” I said, my voice small and shaking. “But I’m worried. If you’re really that sick, I think you should see a doctor.”

“Can you just leave me alone, please? Stop harassing me about it.”

“I’m not trying to harass you,” I said. “I only want to be sure you’re all right. You’ve barely been out of your room for the past three days, and you haven’t been eating, have you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. If anyone should know that, it’s you.”

“Yeah, I know, but maybe I don’t care.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “Can you please just do as I asked, and leave me alone?”

“Fine,” I said, trying to force down my own sudden spark of anger. “You can have the whole house to yourself. I have to do the grocery shopping and go to the post office anyway. Then, I might see if Takahiro and Seiji want to do something. I can be gone all day if that’d suit you.”

I got up and started to turn away, but Victor caught me by the wrist. “Yuri, wait.”

“Let go of me,” I said.

Instead of releasing me, he tightened his fingers around my arm. “You can't go out. Stay here.”

I tugged against his grip. “Victor, let go!“

“You can’t go out by yourself,” he said. “Please.”

“Make up your mind!” I exclaimed. With a backward lurch, I succeeded in freeing my wrist. Unluckily, inertia continued to propel me, and with nothing holding me in place any more I stumbled and landed on my backside on the floor.

After that, It was like time stopped. The look on Victor’s face was one of absolute horror, as if something from his nightmares had become real. As for me, I gave up trying to maintain any semblance of emotional control.

“Yuri, I…” Victor began, but didn’t seem capable of getting beyond that.

“What do you want?” I shouted at him. “Do you want me to leave you alone, or do you want me to stay here? Tell me, or I’m making my own decision, and it’s not going to be to stay in this house with you!”

Victor stared at me, and not unpredictably I saw tears starting to leak from the edges of his eyes. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He cries over everything.

He climbed off the bed and started to move toward me. “Yuri, I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean… Are you hurt? Can you get up?”

“You’re supposed to protect me,” I said. “You promised.”

“I know,” he said, his voice already strained and diminished by his tears. “That’s what I was trying to do.”

“What?”

“I want you to be safe,” he said. “But… I don’t know how to protect you. Not this time.”

“This time? What are you talking about?”

He moved closer, “Come here,” he said, holding his hands out. “Let me see if you’re okay.”

Let me see if you’re okay.

Something about that phrase made my chest constrict in instant fear. My mind flashed back to a moment over five years ago, when someone else had hurt me and had said those same words, exactly like that.

One of Ren’s favourite things to do was to trap me in the corner of a room or against a wall, a door or the refrigerator; any place he could hold me with only one arm and prevent me from moving. He’d use the other hand for… exploring.

This one time in particular, Ren had pinned me on the wall in his bedroom. He’d held me there with one hand pressed into my collarbone, while he tried to unbutton my shirt with the other. When I’d struggled a bit too hard, he let go of my shirt and used both hands to push me into the position he wanted. He shoved forcefully enough that the back of my head struck the wall. I cried out and he let go of me, and I slipped right through his grasp and ended up sitting on the floor.

I’m sure he hadn’t planned to injure me, and I think for a fraction of a second he’d been scared. He’d knelt down in front of me, and in the soft voice he usually reserved for apologies, he'd implored, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Yuri. Let me see if you’re okay."

"Don’t touch me,” I said to Victor, just as I’d said to Ren on that day five years ago.

Victor stretched his hand out toward me, not touching, but looking like he wanted to. He said, “Yuri, I didn’t mean to—“

"Don’t touch me!” This time, I yelled it so loudly my voice cracked.

Victor’s face went white, and he snatched his hand back, clutching it to his chest. ‘Dismayed’ would not have been a strong enough word to describe his expression. I saw in his face the precise moment that something inside him shattered. He inched away from me, as if now he was the one who was afraid.

Of course, I’m remembering all this in hindsight. I was experiencing it then, but I wasn’t processing it. I’m sure I was operating on pure reflex in that moment.

As soon as I judged the distance between us to be enough, I scrambled to my feet and dashed out of the room. I didn’t stop until I was shut securely behind the door of my own bedroom.

Across the hall, only slightly muffled by the closed doors, I could hear Victor sobbing; huge, noisy, anguished sobs that would normally tear at my heart and have me rushing to comfort him. But this time, I told myself I didn’t care. I was angry and scared, and it was his fault. He could console himself.

I didn’t cry. I lay on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, my mind racing frantically to interpret what had just taken place.

Calm down, Yuri, said the rational part of my brain. You have to calm down. You need to think logically and then decide what to do.

My instinct was to run as far and as fast as I could, but the rational part quietly questioned whether that was necessary. It said running would be an overreaction. I felt as if my instinct was shrieking at my rational mind to shut up, that running would be the only way I’d be safe, but eventually the thinking part won over the feeling part.

For a long time I lay still, breathing deeply in the way Victor had taught me. Fifteen-second breathing, he calls it. Breathe in slowly through the nose for a count of five, hold for three, and exhale through the mouth while silently counting to seven. The technique is meant to help manage pain, but I’ve found that it helps me settle just as effectively when I’m feeling anxious or frightened.

After several repetitions, the haze of fear and anger in my brain cleared. I still wasn’t completely calm, but at least I was once again capable of thinking logically.

I raised my arm to inspect my wrist and found myself gazing at my beautiful snowflake bracelet. It was undamaged, and when I carefully slid it higher on my arm, I saw there wasn’t even a mark on my skin beneath it. I took a moment to mentally assess the rest of my body. Other than a growing ache in my stomach, nothing hurt. I was fine.

I lowered my hands and covered my face, feeling completely foolish.

Victor wasn’t trying to hurt me, hadn’t harmed me in the least, in fact. The truth was, I’d been utterly terrified by the prospect of being restrained and I panicked. That, and I was upset and confused by Victor’s inexplicably hostile behaviour and had somehow read my own meaning into it.

I thought I’d managed to purge my mind of all the fear, pain and anger I’d lived with when Ren and I were together. I’d convinced myself that Victor’s gentleness and unconditional love for me had healed me somehow, and that my wounds had disappeared. Of course, that was a convenient lie. I'd let myself be lulled into a belief that couldn’t possibly have made sense if I’d had the will to think about it.

My scars weren’t gone. I’d only been ignoring them. In a world where I was sheltered and spoiled and adored by my loving, gentle protector, setting aside thoughts of my past trauma became easier, and instead of getting the help I probably should’ve gotten, I chose to tell myself everything was all right.

But everything is not all right.

Up to this point, I’ve been fortunate. I’ve never had any reason to fear Victor and nothing he’s done has ever triggered a memory like the one I had just relived. Victor and I frequently disagree and we do raise our voices sometimes, but he's never acted aggressively toward me in any way.

I wanted to believe he wasn’t capable of it, but now I realize he’s as susceptible to emotional outbursts as anyone else. He isn’t immune to mistakes. He’s human just like me. Stupidly allowing myself to accept the fantasy I’d created about my perfect hero led me to a place where I not only felt hurt and betrayed when the slightest thing went wrong, but also to where my complete overreaction to that imaginary betrayal had likely done very real harm to Victor.

With that revelation, the last of my anger dissipated. In its place, I was flooded with shame. How could I have been so selfish and careless?

I’d accused him of not keeping his promise to protect me, but what had I done to protect him? What had I done to even acknowledge he needed protecting? I’d realized on Wednesday that something other than a cold was troubling him, but I hadn’t pursued it. I hadn’t tried particularly hard to find out what the problem was or offered to help him fix it, and the situation had evidently grown to a breaking point.

I’ll admit, I didn’t know what to do next. I didn’t think Victor would want to talk so soon after what had happened between us, but I wanted to say I was sorry, at least. And I wanted to be near him, even if that meant I had to sit in a corner of the room while he gave me the cold shoulder.

Slowly, I dragged myself off my bed and made my way across the hall. I knocked lightly on his door.

“Victor?” I called out. “Can I come in?”

He didn’t respond, which I suppose I should’ve expected. What I didn’t expect was to discover the door was locked when I attempted to slide it open.

I tried again. “Victor?”

Several seconds passed, and then came his quiet reply. “Stay away from me.” It sounded as if he was right next to the door.

“Can you open the door, please? I want to see you.”

“You didn’t want to see me before. Why would you want to see me now?”

Because I love you. Because I was wrong. Because I’m sorry.

Those are the things I should have said. What I actually said was, “Please, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?" he demanded. "Like somebody who’s upset because he always tries his hardest and still isn’t enough?" "

"You're more than enough," I said. "You're everything."

"Whatever," was the dismissive reply. "I don’t want to see you right now, and I don’t feel like doing whatever you expect me to do to make you feel better. Just for once, let's not make it all about you, 'cause I have feelings too, you know."

“Victor—“

"I’m not opening the door, Yuri. Go away.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, but it was evidently too late in the conversation for that, because my words were met with nothing but silence.

I slid down the wall and curled up on the floor, asking myself desperately how everything had spun so far out of control.

[lonesome-witching]

It's Just a Kiss

Sorry for the long wait but here is another prompt for you. This one was sent in anonymously, so thank you. I hope this sort of fit with what you had in mind when you said Nancy giving Robin her first kiss. At least I tried my best.

You can read previous prompt right here on ao3. Or you can send in a prompt of your own.

“What was your first kiss like?” 

The question had tumbled out before Nancy could think better of it. She had just gotten caught up in the conversation, the one where Robin kept making fun of Nancy for dating Steve, and she needed to retaliate. 

But it had been a stupid question. The second the words escaped her lips Nancy knew it was a stupid question. Because if Robin had had her first kiss then it wouldn’t have been a good one. It would have been with Tommy B or Mark Lewinsky during a game of spin the bottle. Or it would have been with Milton Bledsoe out of peer pressure from her friends from band. Or it would have been with Dash Montague when he came on to her, Nancy’s blood had boiled when Robin told her about that. But either way, Robin wouldn’t have liked it. Because Robin didn’t like boys. 

She had told Nancy a few weeks ago. It hadn’t really changed anything between them. They still hung out every Friday night after Robin’s shift, they still sat next to each other at the movie nights the kids forced them into, Nancy still went over to Family Video to hang out with her and Steve. Except it had changed everything. 

Because suddenly, Nancy looked at things differently. She started noticing the graffiti around the town, the vile words that painted Hawkins a special shade of homophobic. She started noticing the whispered remarks between girls and the shouted jokes between boys. And she hated all of it. She hated it even more when she noticed Robin noticing the comments, the way she would fold into herself as if she was trying to hide. 

Which is exactly why she hated herself for asking that stupid question. 

“I– uhm. I haven’t really had my first kiss yet.” Robin looked at her own lap, twisting her fingers around each other. 

It might have been the best answer Nancy could have gotten. But it still rubbed her the wrong way. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, it’s alright. It’s a normal question. I mean, it’s not that I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone. It’s just that no one really wanted to kiss me.” 

“No one?” Nancy probably shouldn’t have sounded as surprised as she did. 

“I mean, the people who did want to kiss me weren’t exactly my type.” 

“Does it bother you? That you haven’t had a first kiss yet?” It bothered Nancy. Maybe she should have just changed the subject. 

“A little. It’s not that big of a deal, I guess I hoped to get some experience in college but now that I’m not going–”

“Yet,” Nancy interrupted quickly. 

“Now that I’m not going yet, it does bother me a bit more. But it’s okay. It’s not like there is anything I can do about it.” 

“Do you want to kiss me?” It slipped out, just like the earlier question had. Somehow Nancy had lost control of her own mouth. 

Robin’s eyes widened in shock. “No– I mean, you are pretty– It’s– I– I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. You’re my friend, I don’t want to ruin that.” 

“It would just be a kiss. It doesn’t have to ruin anything and at least then you won’t have to wait until you leave for college, whenever that will be.” 

“I– Uhm– I don’t know– What do you want me to say?” Robin finally looked up, as if she was hoping to see the perfect answer painted on Nancy’s face. Maybe it was, Nancy wasn’t sure. 

“Just the truth, do you want to have your first kiss?” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Would you be okay with me being your first kiss?” 

“I don’t want to make–” 

Nancy pushed her finger against Robin’s lips. “That’s not what I asked.” 

“Yes.” Robin’s lips pressed against Nancy’s finger as she spoke. 

“Can I kiss you, Robin?” 

Robin made a soft noise as her eyes dropped to Nancy’s lips. “I might be a shit kisser. I have never done it before.” 

“That’s the whole point, that you’ve never done it before. And really, kissing isn’t all that hard, just follow my lead.” Nancy leaned in slowly, giving Robin the time to refuse, to ask for her to stop, to push her away. But Robin didn’t. She just sat frozen on Nancy’s bed, her eyes still glued to Nancy’s lips. “Close your eyes,” Nance whispered softly. 

She obeyed her own words as she pressed her lips against Robin’s. It felt… nice. Robin’s lips were soft and vaguely tasted of chocolate and sugar. Nancy started moving her lips. Slowly at first, allowing Robin to get used to it. But Robin’s lips mimicked the movements perfectly and Nancy couldn’t help but feel a soft tingling feeling in her lips. Her right hand grabbed at Robin’s shoulder, needing to hold onto something. 

It probably wasn’t supposed to feel like this, like she was drowning. Her mind was filled with a new type of fog and her body buzzed with some foreign feeling. 

She needed to pull away. 

But then Robin accidentally bit into Nancy’s bottom lip and Nancy softly whined. The hand on Robin’s shoulder slipped up into Robin’s hair, pulling her closer. She needed more. She needed to lick into Robin’s mouth, needed to push her hands under Robin’s shirt, needed to hear Robin moan her name. 

Nancy pulled away quickly, nearly tumbling off the bed. It was supposed to just be a kiss. It wasn’t supposed to leave her breathless and wanting. 

Robin’s eyes were still closed, a soft smile on her lips. She dropped down on Nancy’s pillow without opening her eyes. 

“So… What was your first kiss like?” Nancy asked, her eyes stuck on Robin’s kiss swollen lips. She really wanted to lean back in. 

Robin opened her eyes. “It was great. You are a wonderful kisser, Nance. I hope I wasn’t too bad.” 

“No, you were– You’re a natural, Robin.” Nancy dropped down next to Robin, watching as Robin’s eyes sparkled, hoping that she’d get to do it again.

[srslyscary]

songs // hyung line

| Contents: SFW, tooth rotting fluff, reader is written as she/her and you, can be gn

soft/love songs I associate with skz hyung line and a scene I’ve pictured of the song with them in it. songs are based off of one’s I’ve listened to.

I searched up the meanings of the songs so it makes more sense if you know the meaning behind each song!

BANG CHAN // those eyes

“I close my eyes and all I see is you. And the small things you do.”

you looked so peaceful while you slept, wrapped in his arms. the sun shone onto your face, the soft rays of morning light broke through the soft curtains in the room. Chan looked at you with the softest eyes, a smile on his face as he moved loose strands of hair from your face. While one arm was tucked under you, the other rested on your hip as you faced him. Your soft snores along with the birds chirping made it feel like a dream, yet real. He rubbed small circles into your hips, cherishing this small peaceful moment of your sleeping face.

“My perfect girl.” He whispered, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. You stirred awake from the kiss, letting out a small breath as your eyes fluttered open. “Hi Chan.” You smiled at him, still very sleepy.

Chan smiled back, staring at your eyes for a slight moment. “Hi beautiful. Sleep well?” Your eyes were so mesmerizing to him, he couldn’t take his own eyes off of yours. They were like gems, or small stars in the sky. He loved everything about your facial features, from the shape of your noes, to your plump lips, to your jawline. You only looked at him, expecting to say more, and when he didn’t, you spoke up. “What’s on your mind babe?”

He was broken from his small spell, chuckling while shaking his head. “Nothing babe. Just takin’ in your pretty face.” And as he said that, your face became flushed. He only snickered at your attempt to try and hide your face. Times like this is when he knew, everything you did made him want to be with you for so much longer. Even if your attempts to show him love were small, such as holding his hand— or big, such as buying him presents and large items, he loved everything. When he closes his eyes, his every thought is of you. When he’s away from you, he misses you more than ever. And times like these, where you could be in each others arms, playing or holding each other in silence, leaving small kisses on each others faces, reminds him more of why he fell for you.

CHANGBIN // west coast

“On the balcony and I’m saying— Move, baby, move, baby, I’m in love.”

Why did you have to go on a trip and leave him behind? You could have just brought him with you. It’s not like it was an option though, he was sick and you didn’t want him to tire himself out. He was currently your every thought, and you wanted nothing more than to make a u-turn and head all the way back to your shared home, to take care of him. You knew he missed you too, probably more than you did. His constant texts had shown, he complained of you leaving on this trip last minute while he was sick. This was just a trip you simply couldn’t back out on though, and he had to understand that. But at the same time, you hated being alone, and you hated being away from your lover. You hoped this trip would at least go by fast, you wanted to get back to your own home to see your lover again. You wanted to take care of him, make sure he was feeling alright.

‘I miss you. Drive safe <3’

You felt that last little straw break, this was a terrible idea, even if you spent so much on this trip. You couldn’t bear it any longer, you had just gotten into the car not even 20 minutes ago— yet here you are, making a u-turn and taking directions right back to your shared home. You wanted to see him, show him love while he was sick. You wanted to kiss his adorable face until he felt better.

A strange thought popped into your head.. I’m really so in love. I want nothing more than to be by his side, and it shows now— more than ever.

HYUNJIN // ride

“I will put you in all my memories.”

Looking out the window, he breathed out softly as he watched the leaves in the trees flutter in the wind. You were currently taking a shower, while he was working on some art. You had bought him an art easel since he wanted to practice his water colors, and he was currently using it. He felt stuck, looking out the window with not much care in the world except for his art at the moment. The sun began to shine brighter for a split moment, filing the room with bright light. He was brought back to his senses for a small moment, taking in the atmosphere of the room.

It smelt like you, for some reason. It smelt like your vanilla bean perfume, or maybe was it your coconut hair cream? It didn’t matter to him, because it smelled good to him. This current space felt comforting and cozy to him, the scent of someone he loved filled his senses as he did his art. It made him think back to his art, smiling once he realized he had been drawing you both as a portrait. You were both holding hands, sitting in a grassy field with a large tree for shade. You always told him you were happy when he made those types of portraits, and little things like that mattered to him. You mattered to him.

The little things about this relationship mattered the most to him, he loved that he could sit here all day and paint pictures of the future you would have together, the moments where at times when he felt emotional, you would sit with him and show him love to make it all go away. Times like those is when he knew— you were his whole world, and you provide a sense of safety and belonging when he’s with you. And that means so much to him, much more than you will ever know.

LEE KNOW // p.s. i love you

“Keep making me wanting more. Girl, you are what I am looking for.”

At Peace is what he felt when he was with you. All his troubles just suddenly faded when you were both together. Sometimes he couldn’t express in words how much you meant to him, that no matter what would happen he would always have an undying love for you. You hold so much significance in his life, it’s crazy how you have him held in your grasp. It’s impossible for him to go anywhere, he couldn’t possibly leave you. No matter how many times he told you he loved you, or the times where words went unspoken— he simply couldn’t find the right words to emphasize that your presence meant so much.

He pledged to you that in every universe he would find you, and love you to the end. To him you were the cold breeze on a summer day, comforting him within the challenges of life and experiences of this relationship. To him you were as beautiful as the brightest star in the sky, never failing to bring light to the darkness he faced some days. No matter the circumstances or reality you both find yourselves in, the love he felt for you would remain constant and unchanging. He knew when you told him you would choose him in every lifetime, that you were the one for him. In that moment he felt a sense of destiny, or a rather soulmate connection to the bond you both formed. He knew he wanted to fulfill every promise he made, every wish you had, because he knew his love for you was serious. He loved you more than infinity, more than everything known and unknown in the universe. Nothing in this world could make his love falter, for the beautiful girl he fell for. Not anyone would change the feelings that came from deep down in his soul— the love he felt for his lover.

[alltheglowingeyess]

i want more, impossible to ignore - ch 13

(double posts for this week to make up for my lack of posting over the past few months :0 nico-centric story from my rewrite series, posted on ao3 here!)

“Why aren’t you guys scared of me?”

The question slips out before Nico can stop himself. Around him, the group freezes, any minor bickering and splash wars immediately ceasing.

Remember, some thoughts are inside thoughts only, a voice in the back of his mind, suspiciously similar to Bianca’s gently chides him. Thank you, voice; if only he had received this reminder a few seconds prior.

Since beginning his stay at Camp, he’s gotten better at handling, well—being perceived really. Losing corporeality does that to a guy.  But right now, with three sets of eyes pinning him down, he has to resist the urge to tumble straight off the dock and into the lake.

He scrambles for any way to double back on his question, though most of his next dialogue options feel like they would only make things worse. Thankfully, the decision is taken out of his hands as he feels someone bump his shoulder. Glancing to his left, his met with bright blue eyes, almost a perfect reflection of the lake surrounding them. 

“What do you mean, Nico?”

Will asks the question gently, with no tones of judgement, just earnest curiosity. Almost as though the question was unfathomable to him.

He takes a moment to think, because truthfully he doesn’t know why the question came up just now. A few months back, when he was first branching out and trying to socialize—sure, that makes sense. But now he feels (or at least, he thought he feels) secure in his current relationships. 

He spends at least three lunches a week with Will, lounging around the infirmary and often taking full advantage of the cramped cot in his office to take a post-lunch nap. When Lou Ellen needs help trialing a new recipe that skews Underwordly, he’s more than happy to help. He joins Cecil and, consequently, a large portion of the Hermes cabin for their poker nights. He listens and gives feedback for Austin’s music despite having no ear for it and he lets Kayla shoot progressively smaller fruits off his head when she’s bored.

He has friends now. For a few months, really. So why is this coming up now? Why are the mean and weird feelings he’s dealt with since he was ten insistent on ruining things when they are good, when he’s just trying to enjoy a lazy lakeside day with said friends?

Nico of The Present does not have a good answer. However, Nico of Six Months Ago Or Something seems perfectly equipped to handle this.

“Well, I’m not exactly…” He gestures vaguely to himself, met by concerned stares turning confused. He retracts his former statement: Nico of Six Months Ago Or Something is not perfectly equipped handle this, like at all. “I’ve been trying to be more, uh, palatable? I try to talk to other campers and I—I just still see it. People are still not… I just make people uncomfortable. So I just don’t understand, really, why you guys, um…”

He trails off on his self-deprecation, chest burning at the admissions. He’s hopeful that maybe instead of (rightfully) finding him to be such a downer, they’ll be more focused on how absolutely socially-inept he is. 

A quiet apology rolls of his tongue as they all sit in silence. He wonders if this is it. If his months of trying to make friends is going to fall apart now, all because he can’t keep his negativity, his poison, where they belong—as inside thoughts.

“You know I fought in Kronos’ Army, right?”

Nico blinks, looking up with poorly-concealed surprise. Lou Ellen has moved from her previously lounging position to sitting upright. The question is posed casually, but Nico doesn’t miss the slight tension that seeps into her frame as she stares at him.

“No, I didn’t,” he answers carefully. She hums at his response, fiddling with a chunky ring on her middle finger.

“Figured as much. I don’t really go around advertising it, but it was definitely a big deal right after the war. You know, random daughter of Hecate turning up set off some alarms for people.” She sighs, shifting as she pulls her legs to her chest. “It took me four months to really make friends. I mean, I had some people like this guy—” she juts her chin out at Will, who does a small pair of jazz hands in acknowledgement. “—who didn’t treat me weird, but I thought that a lot people didn’t seem happy with me being around. Hell, I remember the first head counselor meeting I went to—I almost left halfway through because of the weird energy I was getting from over half the people in the room.”

Nico grimaces. Admittedly, hearing the pattern of behavior isn’t very comforting. “So what changed?”

Lou Ellen shrugs. “I found my people here. And I realized that for a long time, I was pushing away people because I came to Camp with the idea that I wouldn’t fit in stuck in my head. I never came to Camp before the war, but all I heard from those around me was that I wouldn’t be accepted. So when I did arrive, I didn’t try very hard to reach out. But once I started trying, I realized most people here know what it’s like to feel… othered. And there are people who are looking to find their place in Camp too, so I’m not alone in my feelings.”

Nico glances to Cecil and Will, both watching Lou Ellen intently—fondly, really. When she catches them looking, she immediately blows a raspberry at both.

It’s a good place to let the topic go, but unfortunately Nico’s always been a little too curious for his own good (shout out Hades for that one). “But I’ve been coming around Camp for years and people avoid me like the plague.”

Cecil raises an eyebrow at that. “Dude, I guess I can’t speak for everyone, but most people I know were not trying to avoid you.” A grin begins to stretch across his face. “In fact, some people I know would not shut up about how kickass it was when you showed up in your brooding, dark prince glory—“

“You’re losing the plot, Cecil,” Will declares abruptly. His face is slightly red, and Nico wonders briefly whether it really is that hot outside. “Look—the point that Cecil is trying to make is that people want to know you. People have been wanting to be your friend. And three of those people are sat right here, so. Yeah. Not scared of you.”

As if to drive home his point, he lifts his feet off the docks and slams them back down, as though rooting himself in place. Lou Ellen scowls at the resulting tremor that almost knocks her notebook into the lake, proceeding to grab it and begin smacking Will upside the head with it.

Nico breathes out a laugh at the sight. Whatever feelings which had triggered his line of questions initially are still there, lodged deep in his chest after years of isolation and wary stares. But it’s a little less stuck now, like something rattled things up and it’s slowly coming undone.

Next to him, he hears Cecil hoot as Lou Ellen almost manages to smack Will straight into the lake. Glancing to him, then back to the adequately distracted son of Apollo, he leans over.

“Tell me more about this ‘dark prince’ comment.”

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT - 14 Months

Slime time again my good folks (I really ought to start making more slime puns)! I’m here again with the 14 month update and things have continued to get gooier

Firstly: No more bones!! In my arms and legs at least, and gods that’s been wonderful just being able to freely move my limbs around however I want. Obviously beforehand, while my bones were still there, I could move my limbs a bunch already (see the previous entry with puddle legs), but it just feels so much better and free-er now that they’re gone - it’s hard to explain properly. If I had to, I’d guess it’s not feeling my bones move around whenever I do stuff, so it makes it nicer to move. Also helps I don’t have to worry about losing my bones too now, so I am more willing/able to try out weirder shapes and motions.

Adding to this; it’s kinda strange, my arms no longer really feel ‘segmented’ like they did before. Humans (it really doesn’t make sense to include myself in that anymore, if it ever did) have a very defined forearm and upper arm, but slimes, well, we (hehe, it’s nice to include myself in ‘slimes’) just kinda have limbs. My arm is just my arm, and honestly, it’s barely that distinct, arms and legs just kinda feel like the same thing, just in a different shape, and it’s really only the intellectual distinction that one is arms and one is legs. Even fingers are just kind of like, extra, tiny, limbs, which has been a kinda weird realisation to have and experience. Also: Elbows are a suggestion, and knees, given that my limbs are just kinda long pseudopods when it comes down to it, so they bend everywhere, not just at a designated point. It’s kinda funky being able to manipulate my slime like I can now ‘cause, on one hand, it just kinda feels like moving a muscle, but that muscle is connected to every other muscle in that area, and basically the whole limb is muscle.

Anyways, with all my new mobility, I’ve been practising my shaping, and I’ve actually gotten pretty good at it. I’ve been able to make things like spades, hammers and such on the ends of my arms, and I’ve been experimenting with different kinds of feet/legs as well, like mermaid tails and talons. I have tried making arm-blades and stuff too, but it turns out it’s actually quite hard to make sharp edges - so far I’ve only gotten about as sharp as a butter knife, and that took a lot of concentration. Turns out ‘sharp’ isn’t exactly a slime speciality

As for the rest of my body: the skin on my torso has all turned to slime now, due to the two-fronted assault from both my legs and arms it turned quicker than the limbs had individually. It’s still very weird see musculature through my goo, and I know it weirds other people out even more so, so I try to keep my torso as covered as possible, which absolutely sucks when it’s hot, although I have forgone covering for the sake of staying upright when it’s gotten really hot, even if I do now run a bit cooler than I used to.

On the note of the new/extra slime, I’ve actually tried to do some shaping using that, trying to give myself a tail. While I did have some extra slime thanks to most of my fat having been converted to goo, it wasn’t really enough to make anything more than a large bunny-esque tail - which was cute, but I’m looking for something a little longer and more prehensile. I guess I’ll have to wait for more things to dissolve to give me the substance to make myself a tail like I want..

It’s also worth adding that if a slime shifts something for long enough, it ends up sticking, kinda like muscle memory, but for shape. To that end, I’ve actually been practising keeping the claws and talons that I’ve learnt how to make, since I’ve found that they feel nice, even if they’re not quite perfect. My only issue, with the talons specifically, is that they make me taller, something which I really don’t need, but I’m hoping once I can shape my whole body I can adjust such things.

One last thing I’ve been able to do now, is that I can now move slime freely between all of my body - so I can easily reach things if I need to, just by taking the mass from somewhere else and giving it to one of my arms to make it longer. This too has contributed to this newer mindset of ‘I’m just one blob of slime, with shapes coming out of it that I have assigned functions’, a leg isn’t a leg when it’s a super long arm, so distinct anatomy is kind of shrinking away, even if 20 odd years of humanity says ‘an arm is an arm, and a leg is a leg’. This is only further worsened by the fact that I can also just make legs arms and arms legs, so yeah, ‘legs’ and ‘arms’ are really becoming just descriptors of limb functions for me.

That’s all to really report this time, nothing super new or surprising, just adjusting as I become more and more slime now! See you in the next update! Ps. thanks to the person (@bdigfreakingwooper) who suggested using a lint screen to help with the random crap that gets stuck in my slime, running that through my limbs has been really nice and does keep me very clean! Although occationally some of my slime does get stuck since it's not quite the same as water, but it's so minor it's fine.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Been loving the various comments 'nd stuff that people have written, and I'm glad that people seem to be enjoying this! If you want more slime HRT stuff @scrubbinn has just started their own that's neat, so you should check theirs out too over here.

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