#also why would they show everyone else but not these three PANIC

[univemma]

Storm and Morph stuck in Victorian era England with a feral Wolverine:

[obsesssedblerd]

life after you and satoru adopt the first years 💜💜

fic of that here. i recommend reading that before these hcs 💕

contains: mentions of pregnancy / birth

yuuji still can't believe it. he now has a large room in you and satoru's large home, parents that adore him, and siblings that'll forever have his back. he cries about it sometimes. after everything he's been through, he finally has his happy ending.

megumi is the most relaxed he's ever been in his life. it felt so good resting, knowing that he was safe and that you and satoru wouldn't let anything happen to him. he sleeps so much. you and satoru saw it coming. he's been in survival mode ever since he was a kid. of course, he's going to want to rest. whenever you see him napping in the sunroom, you put a small blanket over him.

like yuuji, nobara also can't believe it. sometimes, you see her just watching everyone else in disbelief, unable to believe that she's now a part of the family. she's always smiling, though. her favorite part of the day is that last hour before bed, where she's next to you in one of the large bathrooms doing skincare together.

three months into the adoption (and four months into your pregnancy), you ask the three of them if they'd still like to be sorcerers. to your surprise, they said yes. when you ask why, yuuji points his thumb over at satoru and says, "gotta help dad out."

satoru definitely cried later because yuuji called him 'dad' for the first time.

though satoru accepted that, he preferred for the three of them to take far fewer missions so they could enjoy the rest of their childhood. to his relief, none of them disagreed with it.

however, the higher-ups of jujutsu society weren't too thrilled at the news of you and satoru adopting them because that meant that they would have fewer sorcerers.

what they did express great interest and delight in, was the fact that you were pregnant. they were already chatting about how powerful the baby would be and what great things they could achieve; not just with satoru's technique but also yours. hearing those old bastards talk about his child as if they were already a perfect weapon, like he was made to be, made his blood boil.

satoru shut it down swiftly and told them that the baby wouldn't have anything to do with sorcery, regardless of what technique they were born with. they deserved a happy, safe life far away from the horrific system that devoured children. he saved yuuji, nobara, and megumi from it before it could kill them. every day, he wished that he and suguru were saved from it.

when the higher-ups objected, satoru gave them a chilling warning—that he'll show no mercy to anyone who tries to threaten his family's safety and happiness, and that's final.

yuuji, megumi, and nobara keep up with their training, but they also spend a lot more time doing things that genuinely interest them.

you and satoru spoil them rotten. obviously. when it comes to fun family trips, you all always go overboard, but it didn't matter. all three of them never got to have fun experiences, plus, you can tell that satoru is making up for all of the things he missed as a child.

your old colleagues and students from jujutsu tech showed up to your baby shower, and it warmed your heart to see just how loved this baby was even though they weren't born yet.

you and satoru decide to wait to find out the gender until they're born. every evening after dinner, all five of you sit on the large couch in the living room, and the four of them take turns talking to your stomach.

they're always so excited when the baby kicks.

the final empty room in your massive home is stocked with everything that your newborn is going to need.

you're with megumi and nobara when your water breaks. you call satoru, who was shopping with yuuji, and tell them the news. "don't panic, but my water broke, and-" too late, they're both already screaming.

after so many hours of labor, you finally give birth to your beautiful baby girl. her hair is mostly like yours, but she also has a few white strands that she took from satoru.

she also inherited the bluest of eyes, and while satoru is extremely happy, he's also worried. because of the power he was born with, he was hunted. he never wanted that for his princess.

you can tell what he's thinking, and you stroke his cheek, telling him that it was going to be okay because your daughter had so many willing to protect her.

yuuji, megumi, and nobara—a little teary-eyed because their new baby sister was so freaking cute—assure satoru that he wouldn't be the only one with the role of protecting the family. they were sorcerers too, after all.

that brings the most gentle smile to satoru's face.

[porcelainpot]

It takes a long time before you leave your den again, the small cave proving to be a cage, as Soap so graciously called it, for not only them but you too, even if sometimes it can be considered your little heaven too.

It's not that you don't want to leave, it has been at least three hours since Soap had gotten himself too close for comfort, riling you up enough that you almost forgot to keep distance for the both of you.

No, it's not that.

It's that you're fucking terrified and you don't want to admit it.

You have watched and analyzed them all enough to understand that he has a weird sense of flirting and is more feral than what he looks, if his stunt a few hours ago wasn't proof of that, then the way he would usually do the same with other mer, prey mer, or fishes is proof of how he gets off on doing it.

You look at yourself, your fins, your tail, beautiful oranges and whites decorating the venomous spines that serve as hunting and protective tools. Or that should be their purpose, if it wasn't for the lack of poison they had.

They do work for hunting and to protect yourself, but the thing is that they're not lethal at all, if only, the supposed venom is more of anesthetic.

Instead of causing pain, it makes the prey, and predators, lose feeling on their limbs, starting from where the location of the sting and then it spreads, just like the venom should work. You know this, which is why you never correct them about how poisonous you are, because you aren't. You just work as a type of numbing tool.

Everyone would have a field, especially Soap, so it's not like you'll ever tell them and keep your distance away. In the end it's more for your protection than theirs.

Your belly rumbles and you scrunch up your nose, you're hungry, not having really thought of eating since hours ago because you were enjoying Ghost's company and also the fact you were not hungry at all.

But now here you are, and thanks to someone called fucking Soap, you can't find it in yourself to go out and hunt, because what if he's out there? What if he tries to do the same again?

Surely not, Ghost already made him go back to their reef to go bother Gaz or Price, maybe even take a nap but that doesn't deter you.

Your fins and spikes have been flared all these hours and it's starting to hurt a bit with how tense your muscles are. It makes you want to tear out something, to sink your teeth on his shoulder, to grab his face and stab your spikes against his skin until they pierce it to watch him go limp and sink on the sand, unable to move.

You shake your head, clawing at the sand to get rid of those thoughts. He would probably like it, might even fantasize about it if you think enough, he looks like he would. More so at the glee to show he was right, that you're not dangerous as he thought and that's exactly why.

A shiver goes down your spine at his words, at the fact he thought he could break your spines, it has panic raising up your throat before you shake your head and calm down. No, no he wouldn't.

At least you try to think that. (Oh, but he would, how else would you end up with them? That way you wouldn't be able to protect yourself, but they could keep you safe and to themselves.)

Your nerves are too fried to calm down, today you probably won't go out hunting until you've calmed down, the thought of finding Ghost at night causes an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

He stopped Soap, that's fine, good even, at least one of the two has a sense of safety even if he doesn't regard you as a predator like him (although the cause of it barely counts as a threat). Not like you need his approval, you're not friends, far from it, just acquaintances at best. That only makes your decision of hunting at night more difficult.

You sigh, curling up onto yourself. You can skip a day or two of not hunting, it's fine. You can sleep most of it away.

-

You wake up again by the sound of something swimming around your small reef, you barely catch it, with sleep clouding your mind still after sleeping all day. You swim closer to the small gaps of your small den, just to take a peek.

It's Ghost, because of course he is. The mer likes to hunt at night, but it's weird that he's outside your small cave at this hour, by now he should be far away looking for food.

"Wha?"

"Come outside." He commands, it makes you frown, why would you do that? It's late and you're tired.

"No. I'm sleeping." You mumble, unconsciously leaning a bit closer to look at him better through the small space.

Your spikes are all relaxed, finally, muscles sore from your body being alert for so long. You're in no position to speak properly, sleep heavy and worsened by the lack of food, trying to make it up for the lack of energy.

Ghost hums, something low and quiet it almost makes you think it was your mind playing tricks on you if you weren't looking at him through half lidded eyes.

"Come on. I got you something, pretty fish." His voice is low and thick, honeyed, as sweet as someone with a gruff and heavy voice could do, to make you come out.

The pet name has you a bit hooked, and the sight of the actual fish on his hand after he presents it has you fully out of your home. You swim towards him, towards the food actually, and reach for it.

You're too tired to even eat it, but you still inspect it, you have to check it's worth and duplicate it tomorrow so you two are even, even in your half-asleep state your mind knows what to do for someone who even gifts you something. You don't like owning anything to anyone.

Ghost looks at you closely, as close as he dares to be given your current situation.

You're half asleep, any word or action he does could either make you react badly and stab him with those beautiful spines you got or have you still be pliant in his presence.

You're an interesting little thing, gorgeous in looks and deadly in touch, he can understand Soap's infatuation with you but he knows how to handle mers like you, he might look disinterested but he already knows how to handle you well.

Ghost takes his opportunity to swim closer, amused when he noticed you curl up around the fish, not to eat it but because you fell asleep holding the food he got you, curled up around it.

"Pretty thing, nothing more than brash words huh?" He murmurs as he very softly cups his hand under you, eyes sharp and focused on your fins and tail, looking for a telltale of flaring spines or the flick of your ear fins.

You're quite small and pliant, colorful even in the darkness of their reef. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. You're lucky it's me and not Soap, the twat would be pricked as soon as he got you at hands reach."

Of course, you barely make a sound at that, scrunching up your nose before relaxing again and he takes the opportunity to run his thumb on your back, brushing his fingers through your fins and skin, careful to not touch your spines.

Ghost wonders if you're even aware of what he's doing, of how powerless you are right now, but he doesn't entertain the thought much when you star to stir again.

He lets you go as soon as your tail swishes, letting you blink and rub your eyes, looking around before squinting at him, saying a quick 'thanks' before swimming to your small den.

That's dangerous, don't you know you should be attentive at all times? Not every mer is as nice as he is right now.

With one last peek, he swims away to continue with his night routine, what he needed to do is done and he won't do more, you aren't his responsibility if you're not Price's responsibility.

Yet, anyways.

For now, your naps and quiet time together are enough for him, even if he has to look out for Soap.

[ballroamblitz]

caramel pie | J.P

summary: james smells caramel pie on the amortentia potion

james potter x fem!reader

word count: 3.750 content: teeth rotting fluff, angst warnings: crying, reader blushes notes: one thing about me is i love me some amortentia fic with a side of james fluff ughh also i listened to glue song by beabadoobee while writing this :) p.s i accidentally posted this on my side acc so if anyone wanna be mutuals my main blog is @beastofbrden :)

- Someone please, kindly remind me why I decided that continuing Herbology after the O.W.Ls was a good idea? - Y/N huffed out, sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

The four boys sitting around her laughed. 

- Learned a lot today, uh? - Sirius asked, ironically. 

- Oh yeah, loads! We had to feed toad flesh to those terrible toad-eating plants. For some reason, mine just didn't feel like eating it without regurgitating it all back on me! 

The boys went hysterics, and even the girl couldn't help but laugh along. 

- There's still a little piece there - James pointed. - Here, let me take it out for you.

He took out a small chunk of toad flesh off her hair. 

- Well, may I remind you, Y/N, that no one told you to keep up with Herbology. We all dipped from it while we could and no one else has pieces of toad on our hair - Sirius noted, clearly getting a good laugh out of the girl's toad disaster.

- I just didn't want to hurt Sprout's feelings! 

She sighed and brushed her hair with her fingers, only then looking at the food in front of her.

- Merlin, I'm starving! Could eat anything right now.

- Even toad? - Remus joked, sending the group on another laughing crisis.

By the time of dessert, Y/N started scanning the table for something. Clearly not finding it, her panic started showing. 

- Oh no. Where's the caramel pie? 

- They didn't serve any today - James replied, needing all the strength on his body to stay deadpanned. The other three boys were deep in conversation, and him being the one sitting closer to Y/N (as always) only he noticed the girl's agitation. 

- What??? What do you mean they didn't serve any? In the six years I've been here they never not served it and I can't believe they chose today to…

- I'm just joking - James pulled a plate that was hidden behind the steak pudding, smiling playfully at the girl - Saved it for ya.

- James! I would go mad if they stopped serving this pie, y'know! - she let out a relieved breath. 

- Nah, don't worry. They will keep serving it, or I would fight the elfs for ya. 

- One day I’ll hide your figgy pudding, then we’ll see.

- You wouldn’t dare, missy.

James watched with a soft look on his eyes as the girl took the first bite of her favorite dessert.

- Thank you for saving me a piece, Jamie - she leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment to show gratitude. When she got closer, he smelled the vanilla scent of her hair and the caramel pie on her lips.

After lunch, the five went straight to Slughorn's classroom. 

- Good evening, dears, good evening! Now if you could get up and get closer, I want to show you something!

The whole class shifted near the table Slughorn was sitting behind. 

- Here, we have a very special potion. - He pointed towards a bubbling caldron full of a crystal clear liquid - Very tricky to make, very characteristic and perhaps one of the most dangerous we can brew. Can anyone tell me it's name?

Y/N's hand rose in the air.

- Yes, ms. Y/L/N. 

- It's Amortentia, or simply the love potion. Since true love can't really be produced by any sort of magic, it causes more of a crush or an obsession. 

- Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor! - Slughorn smiled.

- Nerd - James whispered,  messing up Y/N’s hair.

- Sod off, Potter.

- You see, one of the most intriguing things about Amortentia is its scent. Everyone smells something different, because its scent is completely dependent on what each person feels personally attracted to. Now, who wants to come forward and tell me what it smells like? 

No one volunteered. No wonder, since it's a very particular thing to simply say in front of a whole classroom.

- No one? I'll pick someone then. Let me think... - Slughorn scanned the faces around. - Ah! Mr. Potter, you will do. 

James was caught by surprise. He had been distracted by the warmth radiating off Y/N, that was almost resting her head on his chest. 

- Me? - he asked and pointed towards himself.

- Of course you! Is there any other Mr. Potter?

The whole class laughed as James stepped closer, his signature boyish grin splashed on his face. 

- Now Mr. Potter, lean in and smell the potion.

James ran his hands through his hair and did as told. One single sniff and his smile fell off his face completely. The scent was unmistakable: vanilla and caramel pie. Vanilla body cream, caramel pie for dessert, everyday. He had the urge to see if Y/N wasn't standing next to him, but he knew she hadn't moved from across the table. He knew he had to lie. If he said what it smelled like to him, everyone would know it was Y/N's smell.  

- So, Mr. Potter. Whenever you are ready to share. 

He looked at where Y/N was. She was looking at him, just as well as everyone else. She looked relaxed, the potion's glow making her look specially pretty, angel-like. Think of something, fast. Something not at all related to what you are really smelling, something like...

- It’s wood and broomstick polisher.

- Very well then Mr. Potter. Looks like you've got a thing for Quidditch, uh?

The class laughed, and everyone looked convinced. James Potter, Quidditch captain, smelling broomstick polisher and wood? Fitting. James high-fived himself for his quick thinking, and let out a relieved sight. Now, no one would go around thinking the wrong things. 

Later that night, in the common room, however, the potions class was almost burning a hole through James' head. Slughorn said Amortentia smelled of what attracted each person the most.  Attraction was romantic, sexual attraction. But Slughorn had been pretty vague, hadn't he? He could've meant attraction in any context. It could mean anything. It could mean platonic love, right? If Slughorn didn't think much of James smelling Quidditch, it probably meant it could smell of anything the person liked a lot, right? But it was a love potion. That caused passion. And Slughorn said he had a thing for Quidditch. A thing. But he didn't have a thing for Y/N! He loved her, of course. Everyone knew she was his best friend, they did everything together and she was probably his favorite person in the world. Yeah, maybe he went to extreme lengths to see her happy, and yeah, maybe he was a bit too affectionate with her, but she was his best friend.

- Can't do homework anymore. - James was ripped off his thoughts by Y/N's presence. She threw her backpack at the ground in front of the sofa he was in and layed down - My brain feels like mush.

James looked at her. Her head was resting on his lap, and she looked extremely comfortable. That was obvious, since they always had been this affectionate towards each other. They both were very touchy people, and it felt natural to be in constant physical contact. James was always happy, eager even, to be like this with her. In a platonic way. Obviously. Today, however, her skin on his felt like it burned. 

- How was it? - James asked, coughing to conceal the way his voice failed a bit in the first word.

- Homework? Awful. It's not that difficult, but it's too much. And it just seems pointless, you know? What will I actually learn from writing 19 inches about toad eating plants? Nothing, I tell you what! - The girl sighed and closed her eyes again - Just wanna go to sleep, really.

He didn't know what to answer. He normally would have made a joke about the plants, added more criticism about essays or something. But he didn’t even do his homework, with how paranoid he was. For the first time ever, he was completely speechless in her presence. Her eyelashes were resting peacefully on her pink cheeks. The light from the fireplace made her skin look more flushed, and her hair had a golden glow to it. She looked awfully pretty. James knew that, of course. She had always been pretty. But tonight.. when she moved her head a little bit, he smelled the amortentia smell. Vanilla and caramel pie, just as strong as it was that afternoon. 

- You are way too quiet today, Jamie. - She opened her eyes and he felt something weird in the pit of his stomach  - Ate too much pudding? 

- Yeah, probably. 

She stretched and yawned, sending another wave of vanilla and caramel pie to James' nostrils. 

- Going to bed - she got up. Her hair was messy and the light from the fireplace behind her looked like a halo. - Night, Jamie.

She lowered herself and pecked his cheek lightly. 

- Sleep well - her soft voice was way too close to his ear, turning James' legs into jelly. 

He watched her going up the stairs to the dormitory, and the place she had kissed burned long after she was gone. 

He had no reason to be this nervous for the potions class the next morning. Slughorn had already moved on from amortentia, since it was a difficult, dangerous and time-consuming potion to make, but James was half hoping the potion would be brought up again, and half hoping everyone would collectively forget about it completely. Slughorn didn't mention the potion again, moving on directly to Felix Felicis. He watched the whole class on the edge of his seat. He had decided he would ask the teacher about the potion just to calm himself down. Just to make sure. Everyone had been really concentrating on making the best draught of living death the whole period, but James just wanted the class to end so he could ask Slughorn and stop eating himself alive.  

- Alright, alright. Congratulations mr. Snape on your draught. Truly outstanding! - Slughorn said, raising a round of applause - Class dismissed!

Everyone started to gather their backpacks and leave, but James made sure to stay back. He pretended to be very interested in a weird type of algae that Slughorn kept in a little ampoule. Just a few more moments and then he'll say that no, I don't have romantic feelings for Y/N and that i just really like caramel pie or something, and then i'll stop going mental... 

- Gillyweed. - Slughorn’s voice dragged James off of his daydreams 

- Uh? - James frowned in confusion, wondering what the teacher was talking about.

- The algae you're looking at, Mr. Potter. Gillyweed. Helps the person breathe underwater. 

- Oh, yeah, right. Professor Slughorn, I was wondering if I could ask you something.

- Sure, my boy, ask away - Slughorn encouraged while distractingly stacking some parchments.

- I was wondering… about the Amortentia potion.

Slughorn stopped his movements and lifted his eyes directly to James. 

- Oh, I see - He looked very amused, for some reason. - What were you wondering?

- Let's just say a friend of mine smells it and it reminds him of someone. It could smell like someone he just truly cares about, couldn't it? Like, it doesn't necessarily mean he's in love with the person that the scent reminds him of, right? 

Slughorn's lopsided smile grew bigger.

- I'm afraid, no, my boy. 

- What? - James felt like the classroom got three times smaller and hotter by the minute - But I smelled wood and polishing oil, and I'm not in love with a broom, am i? 

- Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter... - Slughorn chuckled. - I think we both know you didn't smell any of that. 

James felt his face getting warm and red. 

- But, if you did, that would mean you have a crush on a Quidditch player, let's just put it like that. Amortentia is a very strong love potion, and we can only smell things in it that romantically attract us very deeply. Those of us that aren't in love with anyone would smell something quite abstract. But if this friend of yours smelled amortentia and recognized the scent as someone's, then boy do I have news for him. Does this answer your question? 

      - Hm, yeah, sure. - James agreed. He felt like he was gonna fall down from the absurd speed at which his mind was racing. - Thank you, Professor.

- Anytime. - James began to leave, completely out of it. - Oh, and Mr. Potter?

- Yes? - James turned around, hopeful that Slughorn would start laughing and admit he was joking.

- Tell your friend I wish him the best of luck with this new, blossoming love. 

As James went out of the classroom and up into the common room, he deeply regretted not stealing that ampoule of gillyweed and swallowing it whole. That way, he could spend the rest of his days in the black lake with the merpeople. I bet amortentia wouldn't smell like anything down there, he thought. 

For the rest of the week, James spent every waking hour trying to not think about what Slughorn said and what it meant, and he was succeeding. He kept himself busy with classes, Quidditch and even homework. He also did his absolute best to avoid everyone. He ate before anyone else and made sure he was far away from the great hall by the time he knew Y/N and the rest of the Marauders would go down to eat. In classes, he sat very distant and left early. He even pulled some pranks he didn't even feel like pulling on Filch to get detention in the nights he couldn't schedule Quidditch practices. He walked the halls in the invisibility cloak. Anything to keep his thoughts away from the big fire alarm going off inside his head. The only problem was that he missed Y/N in all of those moments. When he was doing homework, he missed the sound of Y/N's pen scratching the parchment next to him. While he ate, he missed the warmth of her body next to his, the satisfaction humming while she ate her pie . He missed laying down together after homework. He missed seeing her on the stands at practice. He even realized that the real fun in pranks wasn't the actual thing, but to see Y/N laughing hysterically afterwards. To put it quite simply, it felt like he was sleep walking all the time. He couldn’t go on avoiding her forever, but what he was gonna do, he had positively no idea.

Until Friday night.

It was late, and he had been in detention. Filch had made him write “I shall not turn the school’s trophies into pigeons” a hundred times, and his hand was hurting from all the repetitive writing. Normally, he would have complained, but this time, he was glad for the distraction. Enjoying detention, he thought bitterly while crossing the fat lady, I must be really going mad. His grouchy thoughts were interrupted by a sound. It sounded like.. crying. Or better yet, it sounded like someone was sobbing their heart out. He looked around the empty common room, but didn’t see anyone. He followed the sound to the sofa near the fireplace, where he and Y/N always rest after studying. Before you turned into a chicken. 

Y/N was laid on the sofa, her face buried in a cushion, her whole body shaking with her sobs. James was flooded with panic.

- Y/N, baby, what happened? - he cooed, his voice altered with anxiety. Y/N never cried, except when something very serious happened.

Y/N looked up like she thought she was seeing visions. 

- Jamie? - her voice was soft and shaky, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot red, like she had been crying for multiple hours. The hurt on her eyes broke James’ heart in a thousand pieces. 

His mind raced with possibilities: maybe someone was mean to her? Maybe someone died? Maybe she was hurt? The thought of her being in pain panicked him even further. He sat down and pushed her into his lap, laying her head on his shoulder. 

- Are you hurt, baby? Where does it hurt? Please, tell me. 

She cried violently on his shoulder. He inspected her legs for bruises, but she seemed well physically. 

- Y/N, tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this - he begged. -  Did someone hurt you?

The question seemed to trigger something on the girl, because suddenly she was on her feet, out of his arms. 

- Did someone hurt me? Seriously? - the tears streamed down her face, but her eyes glimmered with something new: anger.

James was confused, to say the least. He noticed that she was wearing one of his old sweaters, one that had vanished from his suitcase a few weeks ago. 

- Baby...- he begged some more.

She looked as if he had twisted a knife on her wound.

- Don’t you dare “baby” me, James. Not after ignoring me like the plague for a whole week! 

Oh. Oh. James had been so involved with his own confusion regarding the amortentia incident that he forgot almost completely that Y/N didn’t know what he was doing, or why. She was crying because he hurt her feelings. That was a lot worse than if she was crying because of another person: he could’ve gone out to kick said jerk’s ass. But if he hurt her, what was he supposed to do? Punch himself? 

-Y/N - he cooed, apologetically. - Y/N, I…

She showed him her palm, urging him to stop talking.

- You don’t have to explain wanting to be away from me. I’m sure you had your reasons. But you could have at least told me that you wanted some space from me, or something, because I’ve been miserable, and…

She thought he wanted space from her. The sorrowful shaky breath that escaped her lips mid-sentence threw him over the edge. 

- No, no, no… - he repeated while pushing her back into his lap - Oh my god, Y/N, no…

He caressed her hair while she sobbed violently on his shoulder. Her fists were closed tightly on his shirt, her tears dampened his neck, and he couldn’t recall the last time his heart ached this badly.

- Did I do something? Did I bother you? I’m so sorry.. - she whispered softly, like she was voicing what had been repeating in her head over and over again during the last few days. Her words were laced with anger, resentment, but, above all, hurt. He wanted to double over in pain.

- Listen - James lifted her chin up gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. - I’m the one who’s sorry. 

The tears kept coming, but she was listening.

- I shouldn’t have avoided you last week, and it’s not your fault, okay? It’s my fault. I’m the one who got scared. 

She looked confused.

- Scared? Of me? 

James would have to confess what happened at Slughorn’s class. He had given zero thought about his messy feelings, and even though unraveling them in front of Y/N scared him endlessly, he would have to do it, because he could never let her think that he wanted space from her. That he wanted anything but to be close to her, at all times, if he could. 

- Please - she asked, incisively, noticing his wariness. - Tell me.

He took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable, raw. As if he would undress himself fully in front of her.

- Remember Slughorn’s class about amortentia? - Y/N nodded, encouraging him to move on - He asked me to smell it, right, and I…

- You said it smelled like broom polisher. 

- Well, yes. But I lied. - he decided to avert his gaze to the ceiling, or else he would never talk. - It was caramel pie and vanilla cream. So, I smelled… you.

Silence. A moment, two. He couldn’t muster the courage to look at the girl. He felt her hand grazing his cheek, urging him to look at her.. 

- Jamie… - She looked wonderstruck, and his heart seemed like it wanted out of his chest - Really?

- Really.

James was sure he’d never seen something as beautiful as Y/N after his response. She was smiling the biggest, most shiny smile he had ever seen on her face. Her eyes shined like gemstones at him, so soft he wanted to cry.

- Do you want to know what I smelled? - she asked, soft as a feather. 

His heart somersaulted when she brought her face closer to the side of his neck. She whispered on his ear:

- I smelled… - She sniffed his neck once - Sandalwood - another sniff, followed by a chuckle  - Broomstick polisher…

She distanced herself, looking deep into his eyes.

- And homework parchment. And fireplace naps. And figgy pudding.

His heart was hammering against his ribcage. Y/N smelled him. On the amortentia potion. Him.

- Y/N - James whispered, all warm and fuzzy on the inside. - Really?

She didn’t answer, just grabbed his hand, the warmth and softness of her skin overwhelming his senses. Placed his hand on top of the point of her chest where her heart was. Through the fabric of his shirt, he could feel her heart beating faster than a hummingbird's. She never unglued her soft eyes from his. 

She likes him. Suddenly, all the thoughts he had been avoiding throughout the week came crashing down on him, like a dam.

James was an affectionate friend. He liked physical touch. But he never liked it half as much as he did with her. James was a thoughtful friend. He remembered things about his friends. But he remembered every single thing about her. He was a sensitive friend. He hated to see his friends suffering. But every time he saw her cry, it was like his heart was being crushed. James was an attentive friend. He loved spending time with friends. But when he was away from her, he couldn’t even function properly, like he was missing one half of him. Y/N is his best friend. But she is more, too. He loves her. But there’s something else: he is in love.  Amortentia never lies, after all.

When his hands tangled on Y/N’s hair, he smelled vanilla cream. When he kissed Y/N’s lips, he tasted caramel pie.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 1

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m planning to write an Azriel x Archeron!half-sister reader series, possibly featuring a slow-burn romance and angst. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to have. It begins in ACOMAF chapter 24.

Summary: The eldest Archeron half-sister Y/n hates Fae kind, due to tragic past events. When she unexpectedly visits her sisters, she is met with the very race she hates.

Word count: 2.11K

Being the eldest sibling is not always easy. Y/n knew this firsthand, shouldering the weight of responsibility for her younger sisters from a young age. After their mother’s death, she made the difficult decision to leave her sisters behind and stay with her supposed biological father. It wasn’t because she didn’t share the same father as her sisters; in fact, he loved her like she was his own and never discriminated between them. For the first two years after their mothers death, she stayed with her family, but when her “father” lost his fortune, she knew leaving was the only option. It wasn’t just about lightening their burden by having one less mouth to feed; she also hoped by seeking out her biological father, she could find work and send money back to her family.

Surprisingly, her father welcomed her with open arms, a kindness that caught her off guard considering he had shown little interest in her when she was younger. Despite her initial skepticism, she didn’t question his motives, fearing he might kick her out. With cleverness and father’s help, she managed to pursue higher education, while working to make ends meet. Though her earnings were modest, she’d send whatever she could spare to her family, ensuring they had enough to survive. With Feyre’s help, there was always food on the table.

Y/n’s life was devoid of fun. Between studying, working, sleeping and occasional visits to her family, she had little time for socializing and friends. This isolation was entirely her choice; she distanced herself from others, earning a reputation as being cold, heartless, selfish, and arrogant to those who didn’t know her well. Yet, beneath this exterior, she harbored a deep love for her sisters and would sacrifice anything for their well-being, despite no longer showing them affection after their mother’s death. They understood her silent expressions of care, recognizing that actions spoke louder than words.

One thing everyone knew for certain is that y/n was stubborn. She held fast to her beliefs and opinions, regardless of external influences. Among her sisters, Netsa was the most like her and the one who admired her the most. The two shared the closest bond before she left, but make no mistake, if anyone Nesta feared and obeyed, it was Y/n, knowing she was not one to be crossed.

After Feyre left the mortal realm, her family’s fortune turned, and she finished her education. Consequently, her visits became less frequent, as she immersed herself into her work.

A smile appeared on y/n’s face at the thought of her sisters’ reactions to seeing her after a long time. She decided to surprise them with a spontaneous visit. Unbeknownst to her, another surprise awaited her inside the place she called home.

“Nesta, Elain, I’m home!” y/n announced as she opened the front door of their home.

“Are we expecting someone else?” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Nesta, why didn’t you tell me y/n was coming?” Feyre questioned, panic all over her face.

“I didn’t know. She usually sends word before she comes” Nesta claimed.

The conversation between the two sisters earned them a curious, yet worried look from the three males. Nesta stood from chair, hurrying to the door, but she was too late, y/n was now standing in the dining room, the smile dropping from her face and replaced by a shocked expression at the sight before her.

“What is going on?” y/n asked carefully and slowly.

“These are Feyre’s friends. We were not expecting you today” Elain replied.

“Y/n, it’s been a while. I’m so happy to see you” Feyre stood from her seat and hugged her sister, who was reluctant at first but returned the hug.

“You brought Fae-kind into our home?” it was more of a rhetorical question, but Feyre answered anyway.

“Y/n, this is Cassian” she inclined her head to the male with long hair “Azriel” she pointed to the male who y/n could’ve sworn was the most handsome man she’s even laid eyes on “and Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court” Feyre finished introducing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” Rhys said with a warm smile.

“I’m sure” y/n sneered, returning her gaze on her sisters “you still haven’t told me what’s going on and why the very same race we despise are now in our living room, dining with us” y/n tried making sense of the situation.

Feyre explained the situation, why they were here, what they needed from the sisters and the threat posed by Hybern.

“So the moment you became fae, you chose to forsake us?” this was all y/n could utter.

“I’d never do that. Me being fae doesn’t change that. It never will. You’ll always be my sister” Feyre assured her.

“If you did, you wouldn��t have brought THEM here. Hatred aside, do you have any idea of the danger you just put Nesta and Elain in?” Y/n turned her hand into a fist, her knuckles as white as they could be, trying to keep her temper in check.

“There was nowhere else to go” Feyre claimed.

“And you were alright with this?” Y/n turned to face her other sisters.

“I wasn’t, but Elain agreed” Nesta informed her.

“Feyre’s right, there-“ Cassian spoke.

“Who are you again?” Y/n glared at him “I’m too tired to deal with this now” she rubbed her temples and said to no one in specific “call me when they’re gone”.

“Uhm, they’re-“ before Nesta could finish the sentence, y/n was already gone “-going to stay for a while” she sighed.

“I take it, this is your eldest sister” Rhys asked.

“I told you she could be intense” Feyre replied.

“That’s one word for it” Cassian expressed and was met with a glare from Nesta.

—-

Thinking they had left, y/n descended the stairs, dressed in her nightgown and robe, seeking out a comforting cup of tea in the quiet atmosphere of midnight. Opening the backdoor leading to their garden, she leaned against the door frame, admiring the stars as she sipped her tea. She took a deep breath appreciating the tranquility and solitude the night provided. She could’ve sworn the shadows moved, but she dismissed it believing it was hallucinations caused by exhaustion from a long trip. Noticing a bright star in the sky, she lifted her cup up and uttered “cheers” a sad smile appearing on her face…

As she was locking the door, she glimpsed a figure in the shadows. This time, unable to dismiss what she saw, she called out “who’s there?”.

At first there was no response but she called out again “I know there’s someone here, so I suggest you come out” she demanded.

Azriel hesitated but complied “I apologize, I did not mean to disturb you”.

“What are you still doing here?” She covered herself with the robe, the gesture did not go unnoticed by Azriel.

“Your gracious sisters allowed us to stay here for a while” he informed her.

“Have they now?” she nodded, clearly displeased by the information she just received “how long are you planning on staying here?”.

“Not long. As soon as the letter is delivered, we’ll be out of your way, I give you my word” he politely said.

“Your word means nothing to me. And if you’re staying at someone’s house, do not sneak up on them” her words as cold as ice.

“I wasn-“ before Azriel could explain, she had left, making his jaw clench in frustration.

The following day, she went downstairs earlier to get some breakfast, but what was early for her, was late for others. Upon entering the kitchen, she found Rhys and Feyre engaged in a conversation with Elain, while Nesta and Cassian bickered over their tea. Azriel was standing in the corner and when he saw her enter, his whole body tensed, and Cassian and Nesta went still

“Good morning” Rhys greeted and was met with silence.

Y/n prepared her breakfast when Feyre approached her “how did you sleep?” Y/n just stared at her sister without saying a word. Once she was done preparing her food, she took it and left without acknowledging anyone’s existence. As Cassian and Nesta resumed their bickering, Azriel finally relaxed, prompting Rhys to speak again “not a good morning, I guess?” He joked.

“Oh believe me, this is a good morning. If you think this was something, then you really don’t want to see her angry” Feyre remarked.

“Is she always like this?” Cassian asked.

“Give her time. She doesn’t like strangers and she most definitely hates Fae-kind” Feyre reminded.

“Yeah, that was clear” Cassian said.

“You’re talking about her like she’s a bad person” Nesta defended.

“Nesta, you know that’s not what I meant” Feyre tried to explain.

“All I’ve seen you do since you got here is criticizing y/n. She’s done nothing wrong” Nesta reminded.

“I’m sorry, but you know how y/n can be”.

“How? All she did was ignore you all, instead of engaging in a pitty argument that would hit your weak spots, and last I’ve known, she does not owe any of you anything. If you’re going to stay in this house, then better respect their owners” Nesta expressed.

“Nesta!” Elain said, clearly displeased with her sister’s tone.

—-

“Can I come in?” Nesta asked permission to enter y/n’s room.

“What is it now?” Y/n opened the door.

“I wanted to spend some time with you”

“Don’t you have guests to entertain?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“Elain and Feyre can deal with them. I’d rather stay here with you”.

“Fiine” y/n rolled her eyes but allowed her sister into her room.

“They already have a bad impression of you” Nesta told her.

“When did I ever care about what people thought of me? Let alone, what male Fae thought of me” y/n chuckled “it bothered you, didn’t it?”.

“Of course it did. I wouldn’t allow anyone to speak badly of you”.

“They’re just words spoken by irrelevant people. When you acknowledge their words, you make them relevant. Remember Nesta, you decide who you give power over you”.

The next day, Feyre, Rhys and Azriel were absent from the kitchen when y/n arrived “oh, for fuck’s sake, how do you two find the energy to fight this early in the morning?” Y/n asked, clearly awoken by the sound of Cassian and Nesta arguing.

“It’s noon” Cassian corrected.

“Whatever. If you’re gonna argue, do it outside. Hearing your voice gives me headaches” y/n uttered.

“And here I thought my voice was soothing” he sarcastically said.

“Don’t. Just don’t!” Cassian’s attempt at humor was met with y/n’s annoyance.

“Rough night?” he asked.

“More like a rough couple of days. Some people clearly don’t know how to be good guests” Y/n started making herself a cup of coffee.

“Well, maybe that’s because some people don’t know how to be polite hosts” he snickered.

“You know what? You’re not worth my time, if you want to argue, you have Nesta. She apparently has the patience for it”.

“Y/n” Nesta called.

“What? You do love arguing” y/n reminded.

“Wow, the two of you in the same house as poor Elain and Feyre, how did they survive?”.

“By knowing when to speak and when to shut up” y/n glared at him, taking her coffee and leaving and he said something.

—-

“What now?” Y/n asked as Feyre called for her sisters “We can leave soon to mail our letter” informing them.

“And this concerns me how?” Y/n asked.

“I-I thought you’d like to go with us”.

“Why would I do that? No, thank you”… “wasn’t there one more of you?” Y/n asked, pretending to just have realized Azriel wasn’t present.

“He had to return early. We had an altercation this morning” Feyre explained.

“Altercation?” Y/n narrowed her eyes,

“It’s nothing”.

“If you’re trying to hide it, then it is something”.

“She was attacked” Rhys claimed.

“What? By whom? And you call THIS nothing?” Y/n started checking her sister for injuries and both males’ eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt”.

“Who attacked you?”.

“It’s rather a what. She was attacked by a creature called the Attor who was sent by the king of Hybern” Rhys informed her “don’t worry, Az is taking care of it”.

To his surprise, she only nodded.

“I changed my mind. I’m coming with you” y/n announced.

“Don’t tell me it’s because I was attacked” Feyre smirked.

“Oh, shut up!” Y/n nudged her with her shoulder.

[kzpearce]

A LOST KID CALLED YOUR BOYFRIEND “ DADDY ” !! (PART TWO)

ft. zhongli, xiao, kaeya, baizhu, itto, albedo, cyno, dainsleif.

author's note. here they are as promised!! they're clean on this part! still gender neutral reader (i tried to keep it as much as possible.) i want to thank everyone of you for more than 2k notes on my first half THAT REALLY BLEW UP!! i hoped everything they want were included here! i wouldn't be making part three anymore sadly ;( I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL MWAAAAH

just in case you want to see the part one!

– zhongli

when the child hugged him, his eyes widened. “..dear, i promise you, this is not my child—” he said, wanting to make things clear up for you so that you won’t overthink. 

“hey, zhongli,” you rested your palm on his cheeks to make him look up to you. “it’s okay. i know that and i trust you, okay?”

zhongli smiled. this is one of the main reasons why he loves you. you’re so understanding and seem to be so perfect for him, as if he doesn’t deserve you. zhongli kissed you on your lips despite the child looking at the two of you.

“i love you,” he said. 

“i love you more.” you smiled. “now we go find the child’s parents, okay?” 

– xiao

xiao’s jaw dropped when the little girl hugged him tightly with a cute smile carved on her lips. 

“oh? i thought you don’t like mortals?” you jokingly made your tone serious. “i didn’t know that your dislikes with mortals would make you come inside someone else’s womb?”

“b–but i also have a clear memory and i haven’t done whatever you’re saying—come inside someone else’s womb.” he defended himself, still quite flustered because he got somewhat overwhelmed.

you giggled. “i’m joking, xiao. but you haven’t had…” your mouth mouthed sex, trying to control your language in front of the kid. “with someone..?” you whispered.

“shut it, (y/n).” his face reddened, and you proceeded laughing at him yet found him adorable.

– kaeya

“you–” you tilted your head in confusion. you knew kaeya loved you so much, and he proved it to you that you’re his everything. let’s say you were having trust issues (just quite) when you saw the little girl hugging him tightly.

“there is no actual way that she’s your daughter.” you continued your sentence.

“she is,” kaeya said, looking at the cute little girl. “in fact, she’s my third daughter.”

you also knew that kaeya was a man who tells RIDICULOUS jokes. you glared at him—not just glared—death glare would fit nicely.

“i’m joking, darling.” he kissed the side of your forehead. “you know i couldn’t do that. i love you.”

your lips curved into a smile. you’re very down bad to him, and it’s making you insane.

– baizhu

“dear,” he looked at you sadly, afraid that you might get clouded with your emotions, and you would misunderstand it. “it’s not what you think—”

you smiled, making baizhu’s stomach drop. “i know, i know.” you kissed his head to assure him that you wouldn’t think anything differently.

“i want you to explain this, though..” you added, slightly with a frown.

“i’ve never experienced this until now,” he sighed. “this little girl must be lost and i might look like her dad.”

you smiled. “okay. we’ll look for her parents together.”

his facial expression softened at your retort. you had no idea how much baizhu felt you’re an angel coming from the heavens. he kissed you on your forehead. “alright. i love you.”

– itto

“eh—” his face reddened when the little girl clinged to him. “d-do i look like a father—?”

you shrugged, trying not to laugh.

“are you mad?” he asked. itto didn’t want to show his face. it hinted at a slight terrified look. he didn’t want to lose you.

you shrugged again, refusing to reply.

“t—this is not mine! i—i swear!” he stammered. the panic in his face started to be visible. “i—i don’t even remember liking someone else…”

“i was just joking. of course i trust you.” you laughed, kissing his cheek. he blinked rapidly as his face became redder and redder. 

oh, he looked so cute.

– albedo

“whose child is this?” albedo asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. 

you blinked. “shouldn't i be the one asking? the little girl called you her daddy.”

albedo shrugged. “don’t remember having sexual intercourse with someone else.”

you sighed. you were kinda expecting albedo to give you slight affection just to prove that he wouldn’t do anything like this with someone else, and he only liked you. well… this is albedo for you.

“okay.” you slightly frowned. “let’s find her parents.” 

albedo looked at you, inserted you with a soft smile. “i love you. i hope that clears your mind.”

albedo also knew how to read someone else’s mind. 

– cyno

cyno wasn’t hugging the girl back. 

“why are you ignoring her?” you asked.

“not my child.” he deadpanned. 

“give her affection, you silly.” you laughed. 

“i ain’t going to do something that would make you mad.” he declared. “i love you but you’re kinda hard to please. it’s hard to apologize to you when you’re mad or disappointed.” 

you couldn’t help but laugh. you hugged cyno from the back and kissed his cheek. “i love you too. i’m not going mad, baby.”

cyno smiled, but he couldn’t help but sigh after. “alright.” 

– dainsleif

"too bad. if this is our little girl, she would definitely be spoiled." he sneered, kissing your cheek.

this what made you love him. he's so perfect. you love him and how he makes you calm down. you enjoyed his kiss with a smile, shutting his eyes. 

"you want babies?" you teased.

"as long as they're ours, my love." 

you smiled sweetly, kissing him on his lips. "find her parents. i'll stay here to buy the stuff you need."

"okay, love you." he smiled. dainsleif whispered something to the little girl that made the two of them wave at you as they disappeared to your sight.

[silverskye13]

Helsknight showing up bloody at Welsknight’s base please I need suffering 🙏

There was something to be said about the stupid things he was willing to do in the name of self preservation. Damn his fears, and the unfairness of the universe, and the uncertainty of living [and dying] and everything else. The unknown had always been his greatest weakness, his greatest betrayer. Pity it was also one of the few inescapable things about living in general.

To say Helsknight stepped into Hermitcraft would be a terrible injustice of what stepping normally, let alone gracefully, looked like. What he actually did was stagger and drag himself into Hermitcraft on unsteady and shaking limbs. There were holes in him. He hadn't really taken inventory of them yet. Admitting he had a wound [or several] was enough. The minute he admitted the wounds were bad, in certain terms his mind could comprehend, was the minute shock would steal his senses. He was on Hermitcraft for the specific reason of dodging death, and it seemed to him shock, on any level, meant dying. If he wanted to die and roll the dice of respawn, he would have died in hels, in the alley he'd been jumped in, where he could at least take comfort in familiar cobblestones and the knowledge he'd dragged all his attackers down with him. But he didn't want to die, so he was here.

It was dark. He was inside a building. He was bleeding. Wels was nearby. Those were the only things he needed to know for certain. Helsknight looked around, trying to ignore the sluggish tilt his vision offered when he moved too quickly. The double vision of trying to parse memories of a place that weren't his battled with his wounded animal double vision and together they made him feel nauseous, more so than his wounding already did. Helsknight balled a fist against his sternum, like he could hold himself together that way, and concentrated very hard on walking and nothing else.

Helsknight didn't like being this close to Wels. Not while he was this injured. He could feel the awareness of his other half like a spider on his skin. There was a reflex-like urge to shout and try to shake it off, the instinct-like certainty that if it rested on him long enough it would find a reason to bite him. And he knew, in the way only experience could teach, that if he could feel Wels, Wels could feel him. Helsknight had the sensation of walking a tightrope: his body insisted speed was the only thing that could save him, while his mind insisted he must stay unnoticed. He must balance necessity with making his thoughts and emotions small, and it was hard work to do when he was losing blood.

Helsknight blinked slowly, tiredly. He picked a direction and walked, a hand pressed to the wall, keeping himself upright. Wels's potion room was nearby, a borrowed half-memory informed him, he just had to get there. He searched his drifting thoughts for a poem to repeat in his head, to keep fear and uncertainty from rising. His heartbeat was quickening, a symptom of something; panic, or fear, or blood loss, or all three combined. He was fixing one of those things. He needed to carefully manage the other two, before Wels felt them. The only poem he could think of was in Middle English, and mostly gibberish to him, which told him it came from Wels's memories somewhere.

Why have ye no routhe on my child?

Have routhe on me ful of mourning;

Tak doun o rode my derworth child,

Or prik me o rode with my derling!

[Rhyming child with child was a lazy, but this was written back when one could convincingly spell "down" as "doun" so he supposed he shouldn't be overly critical. The real trick was figuring out if "derling" was supposed to mean "darling", or some other archaic word lost to time. He could only figure out so much from context clues. "Mourning" apparently transcended centuries, and that seemed fitting. Everyone knew mourning, in some form or another.]

An ache opened up beneath his clenched fist, or it had always been there, and his body was only just now reinforcing the fact that it was important. It felt like the mother of all cramps in his muscles, and he stubbornly pretended that's what it was. He needed more potassium in his diet or something, and the gods would forgive him the smear he left on the wall when he leaned on it, waiting on the intensity of his pain to ebb. The doorway he was walking towards seemed close, but also very, very far. Closing distance with it was going a lot slower than he thought it would, and it was only one short hallway. He was glad he'd decided to do this, instead of his other half-considered option of attempting to walk across hels to the Colosseum. He wouldn't have made it.

Dread pooled in his stomach. Dread, and other more physical things, like blood, probably, but he pretended the dread bit was more important. He could feel Wels pricking on his skin again, an insistent spider twitching at a breath on his web. Helsknight breathed out the steadiest breath he could manage.

More pine ne may me ben y-don

Than lete me live in sorwe and shame;

As love me bindëth to my sone,

So let us deyen bothe y-same.

[Sorwe. What medieval idiot thought "sorrow" was spelled like "sorwe"? Maybe it had something to do with inflection. Poetry was half words, half rhythm. Maybe "sorwe" was supposed to indicate they wanted the reader to pronounce "sorrow" as a single syllable, so it sounded more like "sore". That's also probably why "bothe y-same" was sitting there like word vomit. They meant "both the same", but wanted it read without a pause between the first two words. It was really the method for the madness that mattered with poetry.]

Helsknight blinked. He was in the potion room. He couldn't fully remember the walk down the hallway, but that didn't matter. What mattered was there should be health potions in here somewhere, his salvation. Relief edged his vision in stars, and he once again felt Wels's attention cant in his direction, confused and curious. Wels didn't associate feelings of relief with Helsknight. It wasn't an emotion they felt in each other's presence, and it was far too strong to be muffled by the distance to hels.

[He knows I'm here.]

Helsknight opened a chest and rifled through it. His vision was protesting. Stars and tilting that would turn to spinning soon made a clutter of his eyes. It got hard to distinguish the colors of the stoppered bottles. He picked up one that felt overly warm to his cold and shaking fingers. He was pretty sure it was a health potion. It felt too hot, but he reminded himself he was cold from losing blood, so it should feel hot. Hesitantly removed his fist from where it was balled in front of his sternum, and let his eyes unfocus when he grasped the bottle's stopper. His hands were so unsteady, it took a couple tries just to grab it, and when he pulled on the cork, his fingers slipped off weakly. He tried again, eyes closed with concentration, pouring every ounce of his strength into the act of pulling a stopper out of a bottle, only for his hand to slip right off again.

Frustrated, nearing desperate, he looked down at himself for a clean place to wipe his hand on his tunic. It was a mistake. He knew it as soon as he did it. His eyes were inexorably drawn from the fabric to the poke-holes in it, to the wine-dark stain that flowed down his front and still dripped tak-tak-tak slow and inexorable onto the floor. It was a woeful amount of blood. He was honestly surprised he wasn't dead yet. Chalk it up to fortitude, and ignorance, and size. He had more blood to lose than some people did.

Helsknight's world suddenly gave an awful twist, vertigo and the crescendoing, cramping agony of his wounds, only staved off by how his now shattered ignorance, kicking him off his feet just as surely as a horse could. He slumped against the wall, and then to the floor, and the awful jarring of it hurt him worse. Half a dozen other wounds on him aired their grievances, and the big one near his sternum pushed blood onto his fist when he clutched it. Helsknight sat pinned, unable to breathe for many long seconds, feeling a bit like he'd been struck by lightning. The pain was blinding and numbing and overwhelming all at once.

Why-- have no-- have ye no-- something something...

[Words. Breathe. Think of words.]

[Gods... But it hurts......]

Why have ye no routhe on my child?

Have routhe on me ful of mourning;

[And what the hels did "routhe" mean, anyway? He knew the word "route". He knew the name "Ruth". Neither of them fit, unless his bloodless brain was missing something. There was a chance "routhe" was supposed to be read like "bothe", as a double word slurred together, but that still left "routhe the" which made less sense in context than "routhe" did.]

Right. He was supposed to be doing something other than bleeding to death on the floor. Helsknight blinked, looked down at his hand and realized the health potion he'd grabbed was gone. He must have dropped it when he slumped over. Looking around, he spotted it just to the side of his left boot, unbroken, thankfully, but it might as well be a lifetime away for all the good it did him. Helsknight knew without a shadow of a doubt he couldn't reach it. The idea of tensing his muscles and dragging himself forward to reach was exhausting, and he hurt so much he knew the movement would feel like tearing himself in half, and there were just some things a mind couldn't power through. Helsknight laughed dismally and let his head fall onto his chest. Both motions were white hot agonies, but all his pains were starting to blur together into a smear of overwhelming sensation that took thought away. It occurred to him he was breathing too fast, like he'd run too far too fast, and his fluttering heartbeat agreed.

[... It hurts...]

[Gods and saints it hurts.]

[I'm dying.]

A feeling he could only describe as doom fell on his shoulders, a cold grasp of fear that wrapped stony hands around his heart and squeezed. He'd heard of this. Never felt it himself. The utter sureness that if he didn't do something now, he would die. All the unconscious bits in his body in charge of keeping him working all unanimously agreeing they needed divine intervention, preferably right now, before they started shutting down. It wasn't something he often had occasion to feel, though he had heard people tell of it after particularly grizzly matches and bloody tournaments. Death was normally too quick in the Colosseum, or else he'd won his match, and even if he was falling to pieces there was a health potion too close to hand to let him dwell on his harms. This was so terribly different. Death stalked toward him unhurried and unbothered, waiting on him to finish drowning in blood. He might panic, if he wasn't already so cold and scared.

"Ah. This makes some sense, anyway."

Helsknight, who had stopped seeing the world in front of himself without really closing his eyes, refocused his vision on the open doorway. Wels stood there, an angel of death in azure and silver, his sword in his hand. His eyes were the ruthless blue of hels freezing over and lifeless corpses, and Helsknight thought there was no one else in the world he would rather not watch him die. But the universe hated him, so here Wels was, just as surely as if he was fated.

"I didn't think all that fear could possibly be for me."

Helsknight tried to reply, but all he managed was a dying-animal noise that strangled itself out when he tried to breathe a little steadier. He tried again, and this time managed a very weak, but vaguely defiant, "Fuck off."

"Rude," Wels said chastisingly. A glow of something like smug satisfaction prickled Helsknight's skin. The feeling came from Wels. "Especially given I'm the only person who can save you."

Helsknight chuckled, and then stopped when his body seized painfully around the motion. "We both know you don't want to save me."

"No," Wels admitted. "But I don't want to do a lot of unpleasant things I agree to do anyway."

"How... charitable."

"It is a virtue."

"Sure."

Wels didn't move. Well, he did move, but only to sheath his sword. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, the image of patience, as though they had all the time in the world.

[Hungry spider. Waiting on a web for something to struggle.]

"If you're waiting on me to beg," Helsknight informed him through staggering breaths, "I won't."

"Too prideful?"

Helsknight searched himself momentarily for pride, and came up short. Pride would've dictated he die in the alley, instead of here where Wels could lord it over him. This was something different than pride.

"No."

"Then why not?" Wels asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's easy. Just say, 'Welsknight, please give me a health potion'. Or if you're feeling monosyllabic, just 'please' will work."

Helsknight managed a smirk. "Why not help me out of the kindness of your heart?"

"I don't have any kindness for people like you."

[People like you. What a loaded phrase.]

Have ye no routhe on my child?

There was an entire philosophical debate that could happen in the phrase 'people like you' that Helsknight had neither the time or the energy to bother with. Besides, it was all words Wels knew. Wels pretended to be a chivalric knight. Chivalric knights helped the weak. Chivalric knights saved the defenseless. Helsknight, for all the grievances of his existence, was both right now. Then again, the chivalric knights were also supposed to make war against their enemies mercilessly, so he supposed Wels would be in his rights, as a chivalric knight, to walk away and let him die slowly and painfully on the ground.

As if sensing his thoughts, and likely because he could actually sense his thoughts a bit, Wels said, "You are always going on about how I need to be a better knight. There's something ironic here. No matter what I decide, I think you'll owe me an apology regardless."

The feeling of doom, of bone-deep, agonizing dying mantled over Helsknight again and Wels stopped existing to him. His sense of urgency, of desperation to live clawed its way up his throat. He tried to move his arm, his leg. He got his fingers to twitch. He tried to lean forward, to drag himself with willpower alone towards that stupid potion just out of reach. The potion he wasn't even strong enough to open. His vision collapsed in quickly, and he only knew he'd cried out because he was breathless. But he hadn't moved, besides managing to lull his head forward onto his chest again. Cold fear crawled around in his empty guts, a relentless, caged animal that refused to stop squirming.

[I'm dying.]

[Breathe.]

[I'm dying.]

A shadow fell over him, a presence freighted with hate, and deserving, and dissonant guilt. Wels had come forward, only to stop short when Helsknight's terror swept over him like a wave, and he stood baffled by it, and guilty for it. The fool knight probably thought Helsknight was scared of him. If only. Helsknight thought he would prefer that. At least then he could manage to die gracefully. Wels's fortitude bricked itself up against him then, a bitter soul trying to will itself to be cold and cruel, and Helsknight was thankful for it. It staved off his fear, if only a little.

"What did you do to bring this on, anyway?" Wels asked breathlessly, trying to recover his resolve. Looking for a reason to hate him.

"I was... walking home."

"That's it?" He sounded so skeptical, it was almost funny.

"I committed the terrible sin..." Helsknight laughed out a breath, "... of being fearless when I should have been cautious."

"Hubris."

"Habit."

"Yeah right."

"If I got stabbed like this every day, I wouldn't have come crawling here."

Wels glowered, parsing this statement for truth. Helsknight might have mustered some hate in him for it, if he wasn't so scared. His vision had taken on a permanent blur, and he was getting cold. He hadn't gone numb yet, which was something he found profoundly cruel. He wanted to be numb. To stop hurting. To stop fearing.

[Breathe.]

Why have ye no routhe on my child?

Have routhe on me ful of mourning;

Tak doun o rode my derworth child,

Or prik me o rode with my derling!

[Derworth... "Dearworth", probably. Beloved. So "derling" was probably "dearling", which turned into "darling". Middle English was strange. Just slightly to the left of normal. He didn't think "tak" was a word anymore, except where it existed as pieces of words. "Tak" to "take", to take hold, maintain, maybe. "Tak" to "tack" like a nail. "Prik" also, like "pricking" flesh, like a point digging.]

"Hold down the road, my dearworth child," Helsknight muttered. "Or pick me a road with my darling."

"What?"

"Stupid poem."

"How much blood have you lost?"

Helsknight laughed, and his whole body flinched, and for a moment he couldn't breathe because his pain was so alive and electric it almost stopped being pain. The concern from Wels was laughable. He wished Wels would make up his mind about whether or not he cared. Then he could get on with dying, and the terror would stop, and the universe would take him or it wouldn't, and if it didn't, he would respawn and sleep for a week. He felt Wels's hand on his wrist, which was its own kind of hilarious.

"Trying to figure out how many heartbeats I have left?" Helsknight asked.

It would be nice to know. If Wels figured it out, he hoped he would share the information. Then Helsknight could keep count.

"Your heart's too fast."

"That happens."

Wels stood up and paced, all nervous energy, back and forth across the room.

"You don't deserve my help," Wels told him scathingly, angry for how conflicted he felt. "You don't. You've been nothing but cruel ever since we met."

More pine ne may me ben y-don

Than lete me live in sorwe and shame;

["Pine", like pining. Or pain. More pain? Punishment maybe. "Don" to done. Something like: More pain to me could not be done than to let me live in sorrow and shame.]

Helsknight decided whoever wrote this poem had never been stabbed. He'd felt both sorrow and shame, and neither of them packed quite this amount of punch, in his opinion.

"It probably goes against my tenets anyway," Wels continued, still pacing. "And yours too. Aren't you the one who follows some crazy death god?"

"... Saint... of Blood and Steel."

"He probably thinks dying in a puddle on my floor is glorious."

"... they."

As love me bindëth to my sone,

So let us deyen bothe y-same.

[Maybe he was just getting better at this, or maybe this part was just easy. "As love I'm bound to my son, so let us die, both the same." It didn't flow very neatly when it was simpler. Maybe Middle English wasn't that stupid.]

"I can't help but think you did this on purpose to... I don't know. Test me somehow. Prove you're better. Weak again, Welsknight! For helping your enemy when you should have let him die, or speed him along. Don't you know knights are supposed to be cruel?"

Helsknight tried to call up his own tenets, or Wels's tenets, or anything to do with knights and their duties. He got a little lost on his way, his thoughts meandering and dying, and gasping back to life again when they remembered they were supposed to be searching for something. Something he was scared of. Dying. A wave of fear crashing over him that made Wels flinch, and bid Helsknight keep breathing, because any agony was worth not confronting that one, great, crippling unknown.

"What would you do in my place?" Wels asked him suddenly. "Answer me that, perfect knight. What would you do if the person you hated most showed up one day bleeding on your floor?"

That... was an excellent question. Helsknight searched briefly for the answer, and found it wasn't very hard to find.

"I would help."

"You're lying," Wels said guardedly.

"I... can't lie."

"Then you're dodging the truth. What would you do?"

"I would heal you if I could. Or I would kill you if I couldn't." With strength he didn't know he even still had, Helsknight leaned his head back against the wall. It was easier to breathe that way. To talk.

"Why?"

"No creature is deserving of dishonor or pain."

"That's not a tenet."

"It's not a chivalric tenet." Helsknight shrugged one shoulder weakly. "Chivalry states you can hang my guts from the ceiling if I'm your enemy."

"It does not."

"It might as well."

Wels didn't seem to have a ready reply for that.

"What is routhe?"

Wels blinked down at him, guarded and confused. "Routhe?"

"Routhe." Helsknight repeated, as though it were helpful. "Middle English."

"As in?"

"Poetry."

"Use it in a sentence."

"Why have ye no routhe on my child?"

"Ruth." Wels said, a bit too quickly, like he'd known what Helsknight was asking and was trying to avoid the answer. "We don't use it as ruth anymore. It shows up in rue, like regret, or sorrow. And... ruthless."

"Merciless."

"Yes."

Why have you no mercy on my child?

"Why are you asking about Middle English while you're bleeding to death on my floor?"

Helsknight let out a breath. It hurt, but everything did. "Stupid poem."

"Can I hear it?"

"I'm busy bleeding to death on your floor."

"Tell me and I'll heal you."

There it was again, asking for an excuse. That was Wels's real cowardice, his failing as a knight. He was scared of making decisions. Scared of dealing with the consequences of his actions. Paralyzed by indecision. He wanted to hate Helsknight because it was justified. He wanted to watch him suffer, because hatred allows suffering. He didn't want to label himself cruel, nor be accused of weakness, or softheartedness, if he showed mercy. And he didn't want to pick up his sword and kill, if it meant killing someone defenseless. He wanted Helsknight to give him a reason to act, so he could blame it on him later if it turned out wrong. Given it would likely be Helsknight rubbing his nose in it later if it was wrong, he couldn't really blame him for that.

Helsknight closed his eyes and counted his heartbeats, and pretended he wasn't scared.

"Do what you will."

An hour long minute ticked by. Helsknight felt the time moving like it was physical, like he was falling through it and he couldn't catch himself, and he was nearing his limits. He thought the only thing stopping him from begging for it all to stop was the crushing weight of his fatigue, the exponential strength it took to take his next breath, and that stupid poem, skipping in a circle in his head. It kept his thoughts away from his fear, from bearing the weight of the unknown that came next. It was still there, a nameless, formless anxiety that formed the undercurrent of his thoughts. But he didn't have to think about it when he was busy being annoyed about a poem stuck in his head.

Wels moved. He stooped to pick up the potion Helsknight had dropped and unstoppered it deftly. He was surprisingly gentle as he helped him drink, aware that every movement could cause pain. Helsknight could feel Wels's caution in the air like wings, like a bird hovering before it lands. The first potion wasn't enough to heal him completely, so he got a second from his chests and helped him with that as well, one hand hovering over Helsknight's wounds, waiting on the skin to knit back together. Helsknight got to his feet, shaky, and feeling like he'd been wrung dry of all vitality. There was no pain to speak of, but he was thirsty, and hungry, and exhausted.

"You should rest before you go anywhere," Wels said, words of pragmatic care that sounded stilted coming from him. "I can get you some water."

"I'll be fine," Helsknight told him, allowing himself some hesitant pride now that the smothering pain was gone. Even exhausted, he could think so much more clearly now -- think at all, really. And he thought the longer he stayed here, the higher the chance Wels would come to regret his decision to heal him. They were not made to like each other. They didn't even respect each other as enemies. And Helsknight knew if they fought now, he would lose, and he might lose very badly, if Wels decided to leave him to bleed out again. It was something Wels had never done before, but if he could convince himself Helsknight deserved it, he would.

"Do what you will, then," Wels said, bitterness creeping into his tone. He probably thought he was being coy and ironic. Helsknight mostly thought it was annoying.

"The poem isn't mine," Helsknight said. "It's one you've read before. Middle English. Why have ye no routhe on my child. I don't know the title. It might just be the first line. I think it's a lament."

"... I see."

"Next time you find yourself bleeding out on someone's floor," Helsknight snorted, "Pick something stupid like that. It makes things... manageable."

"Right... manageable."

Helsknight gave a helpless sort of shrug, as though what he'd just said were perfectly normal.

Wels mustered an enviable facsimile of concern when he said, "I've never felt terror like that before."

Helsknight felt his already parched mouth somehow go drier. The sympathy he felt rolling off of Welsknight was sickening. Literally. He could feel himself becoming nauseous.

"What are you so scared of?"

Shame, red hot and searing, clawed at the inside of Helsknight's ribs. He wished so badly he could hide it. Distract himself from it. At least turn it into anger. But he was tired, and he didn't know how to bring his emotions back to heel, and Welsknight was already giving him an open, piteous look like maybe they'd stumbled onto something significant. He could feel hope there, like maybe there was a reason they hated each other like they did, and if Wels could figure out where that fear came from, they could find common ground -- or at least the leverage Wels needed to make Helsknight relent.

"I don't need your pity, white knight," Helsknight snarled. "Go sate your savior complex somewhere else."

Wels scowled. A cold wall of loathing, resigned and inevitable, closed itself around anything else he could possibly feel.

[As it should be.]

Hours later, home and safe, Helsknight cracked open his journal and wrote:

Why have you no mercy on my child?

Have mercy on me, so full of mourning;

Take down the road my dearworth child,

O give me a road with my darling!

More pain to me could not be done

Than to let me live in sorrow and shame

As with love I am bound to my son,

So let us die then, both the same.

[sunflowerwinds]

maroon [h.c]

summary: hazel’s fight with tucker made you realize how much she means to you. caretaking and ass-kicking ensues.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language, violence and blood, reader has a slight panic attack, attentive and kind! reader, making out (for the distraction of course) mutual pining, sweet and fluffy, hurt/comfort (my weakness), women being bad-asses.

word count: 3.5K

a/n: this is both a request and won a poll. that scene still makes me wince to this day. and yes, the title is a taylor swift song. the lyrics, though, have nothing to do with the actual oneshot. i love you all and enjoy <33

You had told Hazel that agreeing to this would be a bad idea. After Tim had approached Hazel with the chance to humiliate PJ and Josie in front of the entire school at the pep rally before the big game, you got a bad vibe from it.

The sound of Tucker’s foot kicking Hazel’s eye echoed ferociously in your head.

It all happened so quickly, you could barely process seeing Hazel’s limp body on the ground. The sight made your stomach turn as you shot up from your seat in the bleachers to check up on Hazel. You glared in the direction of Tim and Jeff and that fucking psychopath Tucker— who you were pretty sure was a thirty year old man.

Everything had already been so tense in the group after PJ had humiliated Hazel in front of everyone. Finding out that PJ and Josie had started the group to get with Isabel and Brittany was an eye-opener to what their true intentions were.

This crossed the fucking line.

You were running over to her still frame, trailing right behind Isabel. You kneeled down next to her ribs, a bit of her blood getting on your jeans but you really couldn't care less.

“Hazel,” you whisper her name, wincing at the sight of her bleeding eye.

No response.

Panic settled in you as Stella and Brittany began to lift her body. Your eyes watered as you covered your mouth at her now blood-stained collared shirt.

“Is that true?” You heard Isabel ask PJ and Josie who had also come down from the bleachers as the staff and the rest of the students dispersed. Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. “That’s why you started this?”

You whipped your head to the two girls, eyes flaring with anger and hurt for Hazel.

Josie immediately began to protest.

“N-no, not entirely—“

“Not entire—Okay.” PJ cut her off loudly. “Listen guys. It doesn’t matter…the reason that we started this.”

You felt your skin itch with fury as you watched them drag Hazel’s body out of the gymnasium. You couldn't even listen to whatever bullshit excuse PJ had to say anymore. Sylvie began to walk away as did you and Isabel.

All you could focus on was if Hazel was okay.

The next few days, you didn’t leave Hazel’s side. You were at the hospital that same night at one in the morning with Mrs. Callahan in the waiting room and by her bedside when she came out of getting blood tests and prescribed medications. When the group would go over to her house and spend a few hours after school being attentive and showing support, you would stay the night tending to her wounds.

It was night three and the swelling had just begun to deflate, her eye revealing itself just a bit. Mrs. Callahan had been really understanding about you spending the nights as much as you knew you were intruding. She had pulled you aside after the second night to tell you how much she appreciated you and everyone else staying by her side.

Especially you — for a reason she didn’t disclose to.

You were crouched down next to Hazel’s bed, helping her with the eye drops that were prescribed by the doctor. Hazel was wearing one of her grandpa sweaters and a pair of sweatpants. Splotches of red, purple and yellow covered her entire face.

“Hold on, Haze.” You leaned in a little closer to her face to focus on the little opening of her eye.

Hazel had been fidgeting the entire night and you had no idea what had made her this way. She muttered an apology before sucking in a deep breath. You were gently cupping the unswollen side to give you leverage.

You pretended not to notice her untouched eye flicker to your dry lips.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as you held the dropper right above the swollen skin.

You merely hummed in response as you were focused on her eye. Hazel waited until you put the instructed amount into the dry eye, making sure they all got in. You couldn’t risk her getting infection.

“Are you sure?” She pressed again.

You set the dropper down onto the tray full of doctor prescribed pills and remedies for her abrasions. Your brows furrowed as you held an expression of disbelief.

“Haze, I— why are you asking me if I’m okay when you got the shit beat out of you?” You emphasized, chuckling in disbelief.

“I know but—“

“Seriously. If it wasn’t for this fucking club, this wouldn’t have happened to you, Haze.” You expressed with more irritation laced in your tone.

You admit that you haven’t been getting the most sleep since the event; maybe three or four hours at best. Your mind was clouded with worry for Hazel’s well being.

What if Tucker gave her a concussion that would damage her brain forever? What if she went into a coma? What if she dies in her sleep?

Okay, and you also tended to overthink.

“Hey,” Hazel’s tone was gentle with a hint of stern attitude.

You hadn't realized that hot tears were leaving your tired eyes. You had been so busy taking care of Hazel that you hadn’t fully processed what had happened to her. Not a single tear had left your face until now.

“He could’ve really hurt you, Haze.” You whisper, raising your hand to wipe away the tears from your hot cheek.

Hazel remained silent as she knew deep down that Tucker could’ve done a lot more damage than she had received. She just didn't think that you cared this much about her; let alone cry for her pain. She noticed your chest rising and falling faster than she’s ever seen in her entire life. Your bottom lip quivered as you attempted to hold back the burning tears that were threatening to leave your eyes.

“I know but I’m doing okay. You’ve helped a lot, okay? More than I could ever ask for.” Hazel reached for your shaking hand, taking it gingerly into her grasp.

You nod, not trusting yourself to talk as your throat ached from how much you were resisting to let yourself cry. Hazel sat up slowly, her back aching and cracking from being inactive all day.

“Hazel, the doctor said to refrain from sitting upright.” You begin to scold her but she waves her hand at you.

“I’m okay. I-I’m fine.” Hazel shut her eyes, letting out a grunt as she adjusted her body so that she was leaning up against her bed frame.

You reach forward to push her falling strands out of her face, frowning at her wincing.

“Has PJ or Josie—“

“No.” You remark, refraining from rolling your eyes. You already knew where that question was going and still had a grudge against the two.

What hurt the most that you knew Hazel was going to forgive them; specifically PJ. You knew that they didn't hurt her directly but none of this would’ve ever happened if the club never existed. Then again, you never would’ve become friends without the club.

You would’ve still been just admiring her from afar as you passed through the halls.

“Why did you stay here?” Hazel hummed.

You suck in a deep breath as you continue the night routine as normal. You grabbed the tube of ointment and began to apply it to the slit on her high cheekbones.

“I didn't like the thought of you being alone during this.” You admit, hoping it didn't sound so smitten. “I am your friend, you know? I care about you.”

Hazel’s eyes followed the natural arch of your eyebrows and slope of your nose as you spoke. You knew you looked tired but it was truly the least of your worries.

“I know. Now, at least.” Hazel replied, her gaze finally locking on your lips.

“You didn't think I cared?” The dip between your brows depended on her confession.

“It’s nothing against you. I never really had good friends before. It’s nice to not have shitty friends for a change.” Hazel shrugs her shoulders, fiddling with a loose string on her pants.

“You deserve good friends, Haze. You deserve so much.” You express, your voice keeps a gentle yet passionate volume.

The thought of Hazel getting mistreated all her life made your chest ache. Her eyes were darting all over your features as you pulled your hand away from her aching face.

“Well, thank you for all of this.” Hazel replied, not knowing how to take all of your kind words.

You breathe out: “Yeah, of course, Haze.”

You almost missed how she began to lean into your body. You cleared your throat as a tension fell over you guys. You stood up from the bed, brushing your messy hair out of your face.

“I’ll head to bed now. Goodnight, Hazel.” You nod, turning your back to her as you couldn't have her see you so bothered by the fact that she had leaned into you.

You didn't want to have high hopes but they were there. Way, way, up there. Fucking cloud nine up there.

But it wasn’t right. Not yet.

The Huntington versus Rockridge game arrived faster than you could comprehend. You were wedged between Annie and Hazel, waiting patiently for the game to start.

Her eye swelling had completely gone down at that point to where she just had deep brushing all over her pale features. You were happy to see her darling blue eyes once again. Mrs. Callahan insisted that you two come to the game. You were reluctant but maybe it could be something better to do other than sulk around and be annoyed at Josie and PJ.

As the announcer began to cheer on the Vikings, you noticed Josie and PJ walking up the bleachers, stopping right in front of Hazel. Your eyes rolled as you waited to see what they were going to say.

“Okay, first off, PJ has something to say to Hazel, so…” Josie starts, panting through her words.

You stare at PJ along with Sylvie, Annie and Hazel. Her jaw drops, not knowing what to say exactly.

“The apology. Do the apology. Do the apology we said.” Josie muttered to her in a rushed tone.

“Okay! I’m sorry that I called your mom a skank.” PJ exclaimed.

When Hazel merely sighed and avoided her gaze, PJ continued. “And I’m sorry for saying that you have no friends really loud in front of all of your friends.”

Hazel looked down, glancing over at you as PJ could tell she still wasn’t satisfied with her apology.

“And I’m sorry for being an asshole a lot of the time.”

You and Annie give her ‘really?’ looks when she says a lot of the time.

“Most of the— All of the time!” She finalizes.

Josie hums in agreement with her best friend.

“And I do think that it's nice you always have notes and then you type them up and email them to everyone…” Hazel rolls her eyes with an attitude because she knows that they’re helpful. You’ve told her this a million times before. “And I really appreciate it.”

Hazel stares at her blankly for a moment, trying to process what she was going to say.

“Do you forgive me?”

Hazel’s smile creeps onto her lips as she nods with a soft ‘yes’. You send PJ a forced grin before paying attention to whatever Josie was talking about. Something about the Huntington players targeting a single player on the Rockridge team and how you all needed some sort of distraction to save the players.

“Oh, now you want a bomb?” Hazel smirks at the opportunity to blow shit up.

You would be lying to yourself if you said your bruised features didn't make her more attractive to you. You had followed Hazel and the group regardless of your feelings towards PJ as honestly, you didn't have anything better to do.

They still were your friends.

You and Hazel were crouched behind the tree across the yard as she had formulated some sort of bomb out of the blue. Where the hell did she even get this shit?

“Is it the red wire?” Hazel said out-loud, uncertainty laced in her voice. “Shit, or is it the yellow?”

You stare at her in shock.

“You don’t know?” You whisper-shouted at her.

“I-I get them mixed up. Fuck.” Hazel replied back in a panic.

Just then, you hear Annie shout from across the field that the game was about to start. Hazel glanced up at you as she hurriedly guessed which wires connected to one another and grabbed your hand in hers. You blushed as she tugged you along, sprinting across the field.

You did not wear the right bra for this.

The two of you jumped into the group's presence, your arm dripping over Hazel’s back as you all ducked from the expected explosion. After a few seconds of silence, you and Hazel looked up to the tree to see it was still intact.

“Hazel, it's not working.” Annie tapped her shoulder.

“Fuck. Fucking…” Hazel grabbed the remote, releasing your grasp to aim it at the explosive.

“Maybe try turning it on and off again?” You suggest as you stare at the metal antena.

Everyone was clamoring over Hazel to see what went wrong. You hear the crowd grow more and more in volume as the football team and cheerleaders begin to hip-thrust.

“Okay, Plan B, we get the cheerleaders to make out.” Annie stated as she got up and jogged over to the squad.

“What?” You ask in disbelief, trailing after her as did the rest of the group.

“Guys! Guys, kiss each other!” You shout over, making crude motions along with PJ, Annie and Sylvie.

Hazel had run up top to the bleachers, shouting at them to makeout from there. It was no use. Isabel and Brittany were still upset with PJ and Josie, ignoring their requests entirely. You groaned as you noticed the Huntington team begin to make their way onto the field.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered before you feel someone shove your shoulder.

It was PJ.

“Go and make out with Hazel.” She instructed, jerking her head up to the bleachers.

“Wha—“

“Just go! Hurry!” PJ was now full on pushing you now, staring at Hazel who had seemed to give up on the cheerleaders.

You run as fast as your legs can take you, calling her name from the distance. You’ve never made out with someone before and this is how it was going to happen?

Fuck it.

Hazel turned to you, asking: “What do we do?”

You grabbed the side of her head, pulling her into a messy kiss. Her hands gripped onto your biceps through your navy sweater, trying to go along with your jagged movements. You could hear Annie telling everyone to ‘look!’ as the slobbery mess became a sensual kiss.

You inhale as you feel Hazel take the reins, gripping your face to show you how to control your jaw. Her tongue ever so slightly grazed your bottom lip, humming at the feeling.

Was she always this good of a kisser? Who the hell has she been hooking up with?

The makeout turned into soft gentle kisses, your smile growing as you pulled her in closer.

“Oh, wait. I’m gay!” You hear Stella-Rebecca say as you pull away with a sigh from Hazel’s experienced lips.

Hazel tugs you back in with a grip on your face, seeming to completely forget about why you were even making out in the first place. Her cold rings dug into your cheeks making you crave more and more of her.

Me fucking too, Stella.

The announcer calls the attention back to the game that people came for, causing you and Hazel to pull away with a soft smack. Her hand was at your waist now, both of you staring at the field of players. You pull away, letting out a nervous chuckle as you begin to walk back down to the track field surrounding the football one.

Hazel followed behind you, seeming to be out of it as much as you were. You had not been listening to a goddamn word PJ was saying as you thought about Hazel’s hands on your face and her tongue in your mouth.

How can you move on from this?

“They kissed on the mouth,” Sylvie stated cheekily, pointing at your flushed figures. “With tongue.”

“Okay, yeah. It was for the good of the school so if anyone is asking, we’ll do it again.” You quip back, trying not to make it seem like a big deal when all you wanted to do was have her back on you again.

Josie turned to you guys, suddenly realizing what Sylvie had said. “When did this happen?”

“There were no other distractions! The bomb didn't work.” You protested.

“They’re gonna spray the field.” Annie muttered.

You would’ve missed it if she didn’t repeat it in a much panicked and louder tone.

“We’re gonna have to run.”

“Fuck, more?” You complained as you ran beside Hazel, the insides of your thighs burning from how fast you were sprinting.

You had kicked one of the players away from Jeff, a flood of adrenaline running through you. Fuck, that felt good.

Josie had taken Jeff into her grasp, tugging him up and off of the grass. PJ had her hands over the sprinkler, ready for the pineapple juice to spray everywhere. You stare across the field at the group of Huntington players, eyes widening in a panic. Stella, Isabel, and Brittany joined by the group's side, too, staring down the rivals.

Were you really going to beat the fuck out of the rival football team with the girl you’ve been crushing on and just made out with? To save Jeff nonetheless?

The main player in the middle removed his helmet, staring the group down. He began to scream at the group which resulted in the group screaming back. You saw a large man run up to you, swinging his leg to your chest.

You dodge the force and grab his calf, twisting it clockwise to hear a loud crunch before grabbing onto his helmet guard and throwing him off of you. You feel a blow to your back to see another yellow jersey player, his helmet in hand.

“Fucking asshole!” You scream before throwing a kick to his crotch and throwing a punch to the middle of his face, blooding seeping onto your knuckles.

You don’t know exactly how so much blood got on you. It had all been one huge blur up until you saw Hazel getting punched in the stomach.

You ran over with a shout as you swung a hard punch into his cheek to throw him off guard. Hazel ended it with a kick to the ribs and another punch to the jaw before he fell to the ground.

Your entire body was aching and Hazel looked so weirdly attractive covered in blood.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as gently as ever as she grabbed onto your wrist, leading you to the rest of the group.

“Yeah,” you pant, feeling a burning sensation run up your spine. Definitely not. “I’m okay.”

You had blood splattered all over your blue jeans, running up the sleeve of your sweater with a few dots here and there on your face. There was a collective silence when everyone realized how much damage they had done.

You slowly turn toward the crowd of peers and adults, eyes wide with shock on what had just happened. The sprinklers suddenly turned on and Tim shouted to turn them off once he realized it was pineapple juice.

He slowly began to clap for you and the rest of the girls as the half-dead, half-unconscious Huntington players lay all around you. You let out an awkward chuckle, grabbing onto Hazel’s blood-lathered arm as you lean into her touch. You waved at everyone, snuggling into her maroon-stained shirt.

“So, that was…” You turn to her, not knowing what the fuck to even say about what had just went down.

“We’ll process it tomorrow.” She shakes her head, blood-stained face and all.

“Right, yeah.” You nod mindlessly, slowly blinking at her.

“Did you like the kiss—“

“Are we together now?”

Your question threw Hazel off guard, letting out a soft chuckle as she nervously scratched the back of her neck.

“I mean, I don’t personally just make-out with anyone.” You push out a gust of air, staring into her radiating blue eyes.

“Me neither.” Hazel rushes out, a shy smile on her lips. “So… yeah?”

You nod, laughing out a ‘yeah.’ You look around at the football field now stained with red from the bodies.

“To think, all it took was fucking up some football players for us to get together.” You grin cheekily.

“Oh, I think some of them are actually dead.” Hazel stated as you threw your arms around her neck, more of the blood spreading onto your sleeves.

“Well, the red makes your eyes pop. It’s kind of hot.” You half-joke which causes her to shake her head with a chuckle.

The forgotten tree then exploded, causing everyone to pause in their tracks. The excitement and cheers from the crowd came to a complete halt. You cover your mouth with one hand as the tree caught on fire. Hazel buries her head into your neck, groaning at her failed bomb attempt.

Hazel was right; you’ll process this tomorrow

taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @crvptidgf <33

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire 3

Summary: You’re finally starting to fit in when you freak out in front of everyone. But twenty side eyes later and a lot of forgiveness from your friend Kurt, you discover a scary secret.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Panic attack, manipulation, hidden cameras, finally not as much awkwardness, social dissociation, being in the social eye. Logan is an official warning starting this chapter as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Word Count: 4542 (All other Chapters here) Chapter 4

Tags: @remmyj10 @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @dickmaster3000

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again. 

Enjoy your Forbidden Secret Desire...

“Alright, everyone, find a partner.” You shouldn’t be surprised that Logan was your teacher for your third period class. You remembered Hank and Logan talking about it the other day in the lab, but it still shocked you for some reason, maybe it was something else that surprised you, like the fact that he doesn’t just let everyone do whatever so he could get it over with. You knew he would be the substitute for both your third and fifth period classes for the rest of this week, and only because Xavier was out on some mission. The thing that bothered you the most now, was that you couldn’t partner up with anyone, and you knew no one would want to partner up with you. So you just watched as everyone else excitedly ran towards their best friends.

“Wanna be my partner?” A hand lands on your shoulder, making you flinch a little. It was Kurt of course. “We have a new student today and my normal partner is their guide.” He explains.

“Uh, yea sure. Cool.” Cool? 

“Cool,” he smiles, his little fangs showing under his lips.

“Everyone have a partner?” Everyone nods, including you. “Good, find a place on the floor and sit in front of your partner.” You follow Kurt to an open spot, there were only about ten other kids in the class so it wasn’t too hard. “Once you’re sitting with your partner, find three things you both have in common. You have five minutes to talk amongst yourselves, time starts now.” You realise he’s reading every instruction from a pamphlet, that helped it make more sense. “Also apparently the three things you have in common cannot be common questions such as colours, animals, etcetera.” He finishes, placing the pamphlet down on the teachers desk. “Now your time starts now.” He picks up his phone, and starts the timer.

“So uh. What are some uncommon questions then?” You shrug, trying to think of a question with him. Why do they have to be uncommon Xavier? What the fuck? You wonder and listen to other students' conversations, but everyone is trying to figure out a question just like you and Kurt.

Your eyes turned back to him, and his index fingers were rubbing his temples, it was actually frustrating him. So now you understand the task. It’s almost impossible to come up with a question that no one commonly asks, so of course, thinking is stressing everyone out. It was anger management after all.

“If you were a unicorn, what colour would you want to be? I’d probably wanna be white.” You tell him, shrugging a little, hoping it would calm his frustration.

“Oh yea. I’d probably be white also, I get tired of being blue.” He chuckles a little.

“Okay if you were a dragon, would you breathe fire or something else?”

“I'd probably want to breathe ice.”

“I think it would be cool to be able to choose.” You tell him, sitting back up and crossing your arms in your lap.

“If you were forced to do one subject for the rest of your life, what would you choose?” He asks you, understanding the project now.

“Definitely science.”

“Same, it’s a more fun subject.”

“Especially compared to anger management.” You joke, making him chuckle quietly. “Okay, one more question.” You prop your elbows on your thighs as you look at him. The rule is no common questions, so Xavier wants us to ask uncommon questions, with common answers.

“If everything in the world could only be flavoured one thing, what flavour would you choose?”

“I would choose vanilla. It’s plain, I can't get tired of it.”

“I would probably choose green apples, but not too sour.”

“How about the scent?”

“Scent I would choose vanilla.” He tells you, one again laughing to himself.

“Same, and there’s our three questions.” You turn your head to look at the projector, there was about a minute left and Logan was going around and asking groups how everything was doing. In another direction, a kid who could harness fire had smoke coming from the back of his head as he thought of another question.

“Alright and how are you two doing?” Logan asks Kurt and then his eyes also move to you.

“Good, we just finished.”

“No common questions?” You both shake your heads. “Good, you’re the only pair to finish so far.” He mumbles, moving onto the next group.

“So what’re you doing after your last class?” Kurts asks you, leaning forward to ask the question, his eyes trained on you.

“I’m supposed to help Hank- Mr. McCoy with another project.”

“You do that everyday.” He leans back on his palms.

“Yea, I never have anything better to do. Unless something comes up then I cancel.”

“So he doesn’t ask you for help? You just kind of pop in?” You nod.

“Unless he asks me to. Then it can be important… it’s usually stupid.” He smiles slightly.

“So my friends and I are having a little sleepover in my room tonight.”

“Oh…” You move your hands together, once again your thumb begins to pick at your skin.

“Yea, it would be cool if you came by. We're gonna have pizza, some drinks, and we're gonna watch a movie.”

“What movie?” You ask, the timer reaching zero as Logan walks back to the desk to turn it off.

“Whatever we pick out of the hat. Last week it was Big Hero 6.” He shrugs.

“Uh, yea. I’ll try, what time?”

“Around 9PM is normally when the others show up.” You nod in understanding, then Logan speaks up.

“Okay so, it says here that you guys are all supposed to stand up and share your groups three questions.” He tells everyone, reading the pamphlet out loud. “But I don’t wanna hear it. So the rest of the ten minutes in class is to yourselves. Enjoy.” He tosses the papers back on the desk and the students immediately begin talking amongst themselves. Talking about anything they could come up with. The news, food, anything, while you and Kurt stood back up, he walked to his friend group expecting you to follow. But you only make your way back to your desk to sit on your phone for the remainder of class. Logans eyes settling on you, and you know you’re not supposed to be on your phone, but he doesn’t bother making a scene, instead, his eyes rest on you, occasionally moving to other students to see what they’re doing or moving to look at his email, but the majority of the ten minutes, all he could look at was you.

And then the bell finally rang, and everyone collected their items in their bags before leaving the classroom for lunch.

Normally for lunch you’d just sit in your room on your bed, finishing any work you had to finish and if you were hungry you’d either tough it out or you would’ve ordered something before your third class ended. Today, Kurt changed your plans.

“Hey, we ordered extra, we were hoping you would also sit with us today?” He asks, holding out a box of food that smelt amazing. So you nod, and follow behind him to the little area his friends were sitting. They all smiled up at you from their spots on the floor, and you joined silently. This dude just bribed you with food.

They all chat amongst themselves, and you simply poke at your food with your plastic fork, occasionally taking a small bite. You’ve never been the type of person who’s able to eat an entire meal in front of people you’ve never spoken to without feeling awkward.

They talked about class, and classwork, and talked a little about hanging out in Kurt's room tonight, but that was about it. Occasionally, there would be an inside joke that you didn’t understand, but you didn’t mind. You kept your eyes on your food, and that was it.

“So what about you?” Jean nudges you, making you look up to see everyone's eyes on you. What was the question? You ask yourself, panic rising in your chest.

“Yea, Y/N. Where would you be if you didn’t have to be here?” Alex, you’re a saviour.

“Uh, well…” You think about it for a moment, not sure where you’d wanna be. Definitely not with your family, you don’t have a home or caring family outside of the mansion. Hell you didn’t even have friends inside the mansion. “I don’t really know.”

“Oh come on. Paris? Mexico?” Scott- or Cyclops asks you.

“Oh, like where do I want to visit?”

“Or live.” Kurt cuts in, smiling at you.

“I would choose Russia.” You shrug, and they all stare at you.

“Imma be honest I was expecting the Maldives or some sort of beach.” Jean laughs a little. “But why Russia? There’s nothing there but snow and vodka.” You nod.

“It’s where I was born…”

“No way…” Alex scoffs. “You don’t look Russian. And you’ve only been here for what? Three years?”

“Almost.” You sigh a little. “About two years and eight months.”

“You literally never talk to anyone.” Jean says out loud, and you look up at her, your eyes daring her to continue. “How do you not have an accent?” Rude. Your eyes squint slightly.

“Okay, guys, next subject.” Kurt says, a little chuckle in the back of his throat. “Actually, what kind of pizzas are you guys wanting for tonight? I’m ordering this time.” He takes out his phone and opens a pizza ordering app.

“Can we get Hawaaian?”

“No, come on, meat lovers!”

“That's gross, why not just normal pepperoni?”

“Well I don’t like sauce.”

“I like alfredo.”

“Guys come on, just choose two. I’m getting two pizzas.”

“So get Hawaiian and meat lovers.”

“What about sauce?”

“Just get a sauce cup, or like five sauce cups? I love sauce.”

“Well I hate it.”

It was too much. Too much back and fourth, and you honestly couldn’t stand it. It was making your head whirr and your brain was pounding as they argue about something as simple as pizza. Then they start arguing about sodas and it’s just all this back and fourth. It was too much.

“Hey wait where are you going?” Alex is the first one to ask about your sudden leave as you get up from the ground and throw away your trash, but you don’t walk back towards them. “She’s not answering me.” He tells the rest of the group, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

You just don’t think you would’ve been able to muster one more word from their lips.

“Hey! Y/N, wait!” You hear Kurt's voice call after you and footsteps behind you, and your face heats up as he gets closer, your arms crossing as you try to console yourself. Then his fucking hand touching your shoulder and he turns you around, one hand on each of your shoulders as he tries to keep you steady, but it only freaks you the fuck out.

“Do NOT touch me!” You shout. The entire eating area goes quiet as each pair of eyes lands on you. Shit.

“Hey, uh… Calm down a little…”

“Do not tell me what to do…” You threaten, but it comes out as more of a warning.

“Well uh… you’re probably freaking everyone out with your hands right now…” What?

In your frustration, you hadn’t even realised you had pushed him off of you, his hands were up in defence, but his shirt had a burn hole in it that wasn’t there before.

Looking down at your hands, there was a red and blue glow emitting from your fingers all the way through your veins. You could only imagine how your eyes looked as you stared down at your hands in embarrassment. Oh, right. You can’t control your powers when you’re stressed, frustrated, sad, mad, happy. You always have to be just… neutral.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Another voice calls and Professor Lehnsherr approaches you with a soft smile. “Come with me so you can cool down.” He tells you, gently placing his hand on your back to lead you out of the eating area before anything escalates.

“Alright.” He sighs, and closes your bedroom door behind you. “Want to tell me what happened back there?” You shake your head. It would’ve sounded pathetic. “That’s okay. Oh honey, don’t sit down.” He holds a hand out to grab your arm but doesn’t, knowing damned well he would burn himself if he touched you. “You’ll burn the sheets.” He reminds you, and you take a few steps away from the bed, but bring your hands up to your face to rub your temples, attempting with all of your effort to control your breathing. Got it, so personal questions and constant back and forth conversations stress you out. You tell yourself. “So… I think you should spend the rest of the day to yourself and-”

“No. No, I have to go to class, remember I said I can’t skip anymore just because I can’t fix myself.” You tell him, reminding him of the first time you freaked out and made the promise.

“Y/N, it’s not about fixing yourself, it’s about controlling your emotions.”

“Well everyone else is able to! Why can’t I?”

“Because everyone in this school associates themselves with others.” You hate to say it, but he was right. Everyone else is used to public stress, because they constantly have it.

“Well I still cannot and will not skip the rest of the day.”

“Fine then. Skip just this fourth period, then go to fifth period, but if you feel like you’re not up for it, then send me a text and I’ll send your substitute a text also so he knows you’re not coming.” You don’t say anything. “Sounds good?”

“Yea. Yes. Uh huh, that- yes… that sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll let Hank know you’re not up for fourth period, then like I said.” He makes his way to the door and holds the handle. “Let me know if you need the entire rest of the day off. Okay?” You nod and give him an ‘mhm,’ before he finally leaves.

Okay what normally calms you down..? You wonder, looking around your room and heading towards your desk to search for the little paper you write those types of things on. There was painting your nails, colouring books, sitting in your dark closet because there’s no sounds in there, and then there was a nice shower or bath. Cold, shower or bath of course. You decide you should just do that.

You roll down the sleeves of the jacket that you’ve had on all day, and then unzip it and throw it off into your dirty laundry basket. The bell for lunch had just rung, so the sound of other students chatting in the halls made way into your room. How you wish the walls and doors were thicker. You wonder as you begin to slide off your leggings, also discarding them in your laundry basket before walking into your bathroom and turning on the faucet, letting the water run cold as you step into the tub with your hair up so you could just relax in the water.

As soon as you’re done, you wrap a towel around your body and step out, perfect timing as the fourth class ends and the bell rings throughout the school walls. Then there’s that annoying whirring sound again as you stand in front of your desk, going through the clothes you’d swore you would go through that morning.

After choosing a plain blue sweater and another pair of black leggings, along with your matching set of panties and a bra, you hear yet another clicking sound, the same you heard from last night. You don’t remember hearing it earlier, so you again assume it’s your neighbours, doing something in their room during the ten minute passing period. Annoying. But you wonder what they could possibly be doing with a camera that loud, and that often. It did only start yesterday, so you hoped it would bore them out eventually.

After what felt like a thousand more clicks, on top of getting fully dressed, you decide you’d be able to make it to class. Your nerves were cool, and you didn’t feel as frustrated as before.

So after about a minute with your palm lying on the door handle, you finally had the courage to open the door with about two minutes left to make it to your fifth period, meditation.

Walking back into the halls felt like you were a fox on a bunny farm. All eyes were on you, and as usual, everyone was whispering about you. The only difference between now and before was they didn’t even try to hide that they were talking about you. If you hadn’t been so used to this scene, you would’ve already freaked the fuck out. So instead, you easily and quickly make it to your first class, having enough of the staring eyes.

“Everyone brought their mat today like they were asked to on Friday?” Logan, also substituting for your fifth period.

Everyone takes their mats out of their bag, including you and everyone rolls it out on the floor in their assigned spot. Surprising considering there was a sub. Then again, it was Wolverine. You sit in your assigned spot as well, but a little further away from everyone. Not everyone had been there for the scene that had unfolded during lunch of course, some people were inside the cafeteria. But you knew that by now the word had spread inside and outside of the mansion.

“Today, we’re going to just relax.” His voice softens a little, becoming nearly soothing. “First I’m going to have you all do some stretches though, so will Jean please come to the front to lead the stretches?” He asks, watching as Jean stands with her mat and faces the entire class on the floor before beginning the stretches, the entire class of about thirty people this time copying her.

You watch as she moves to lie on her stomach, and you follow her movements slowly, placing your palms in front of you and pushing up to stretch, then you follow along all the rest of her simple stretches before she finishes and moves her mat back to her original spot.

“Okay, now here’s the video Xavier said to play.” A video on youtube comes onto the projector screen of an elderly woman sitting on a purple mat with her legs crossed, then she speaks into her camera, asking everyone to copy what she does, then the video goes silent for a moment before the sounds of waterfalls and chirping birds play, attempting to put the viewers mind at ease as everyone's eyes close, to apparently rid their eyes of distractions.

You’re ten minutes in. It’s actually peaceful. You tell yourself with your eyes closed, still sitting with your legs crossed on the floor and your hands on your knees.

“Here.” You hear a voice behind you, prompting you to open your eyes. “No, no. Close your eyes and face forward.” He tells you, and you do. He’s quiet enough so only you could hear him over the waterfall and birds. Then you feel his palm press gently on the middle of your back, causing you to straighten your posture as you involuntarily try to escape his touch. “I heard what happened. I didn’t expect you to show up to fifth.” He admits, letting his palm rest on your lower back, just above your ass, and you take a deep breath. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Fine.” You whisper back, matching his quiet tone so as not to interrupt anyones meditation.

“That’s good. I was worrying about you. I noticed you skipped the fourth period.” You hear him move next to you, and you open your eyes just enough so he doesn’t notice. Instead of kneeling, he was now crouching next to you on your right. His left hand moves to your left shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re alright. Just let me know if you ever need anything.” Emphasising “Anything,”  making it clear that he’d kick ass just for someone looking at you wrong.

You nod slightly, then in your mostly closed eyes, you see him move closer to you. Flinching as his left hand gently holds the side of your head, your lips parting just slightly as you feel his lips touch your temple. A gesture that was supposed to feel sweet, but everything in you was saying it was sinister. Of course, being you, you throw the red flag out of your head and settle on him just being a good friend. I mean he’s your professor. Surely it wouldn’t be more than that.

Right?

The meditation session ends and everyone rolls up their mats and are immediately glued back to their phones or talking to their friends obnoxiously. You also of course are guilty, turning on your phone to no notifications to reply to, as usual- Wait. I have a text? You open your phone to see the text with Kurt's name right next to it.

Kurt Wagner: I’m hoping you’re still coming tonight?

You: I don’t know… I’m sorry about what happened earlier.

Kurt Wagner: Hey it was an accident, and I’ve been meaning to throw that shirt away anyways.

You: Oh, well I hope it was just the shirt. I didn’t burn you right?

Kurt Wagner: Luckily no. You’re such a worry bug.

You: Sorry…

“Wait, where’s the pizza?” Alex is the first to notice as they all walk into the room, everyone eyes first landing on you sitting on Kurt's bed with your legs crossed.

“Well, turns out, Y/N doesn’t like pizza. So I got KFC, McDonalds, and Taco Bell.” Kurt explains, hopping off the bed and retrieving his TV remote. You didn’t even have a TV in your room. At least not anymore. “I know each of you likes at least one of these, so enjoy.” He tells them, turning back to see you snacking on a quesadilla.

“So what movie are we watching then?” Scott asks, grabbing a solid ten chicken pieces from the KFC bucket. “Have you guys pulled from the hat?”

“We have not.” He tells them, then disappears in his closet, reappearing a minute later with some fancy tophat that makes you smile a little. “Who wants to choose from the hat?”

“Make Y/N.”

“Yea, this is her first time, let her.”

“Just don’t let Scott choose, his hand is a magnet for Toy Story, and if I watch it again I’ll know the entire script by broken heart.”

“Okay, okay.” Kurt chuckles, holding the hat out in front of you and giving you an encouraging smile. “Lets let Y/N choose tonight then.” He says, and you angle your arm slightly to reach into the tophat and pull out the first piece of paper your fingers touch. “What did you get?”

They all stare at you as you open the little paper. “Finding Dory.” Your eyebrow quirks a little.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for someone to choose that one.” Jean tells you and you roll the paper back up, handing it to Kurt and he puts it back in the hat then sets the hat on his desk.

“Alright, let's get this party started!”

Was the last thing anyone had said for over an hour, aside from Alex asking Jean if she was crying when baby Dory popped on the TV. So pretty much, the entire hang out was amazing so far. No complaints, no fighting, and best of all, you didn’t receive a single sidewards look.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, drawing your attention from the movie and you turn the brightness on your phone down as if you’re in a movie theatre to check the notification. A text from Professor Lehnsherr.

Metal Head: Have you received my email? I’ve been worried.

You: Sorry I’ve been busy. I’m fine now though. My computer is in my room so I haven’t seen it.

Metal Head: Well when you get the chance, please check the attachments I’ve sent you asap.

You: Alright.

“Everything okay?” Kurt asks, crawling close to you as you begin to stand up from the floor.

“Yea, just Mr. Lehnsherr asked me to check my email asap, which also means now.”

“You’re probably the only person who doesn’t just call him Magneto.” He adds on. “Can I come with you? I’ve never been in your room.”

“It’s nothing special, but sure.” You both stand up, and you head for the door with him behind you. Opening the door and heading straight to your room.

As soon as you get inside and close the door behind Kurt, you open the laptop that’s sitting on your bed and you punch in the password to check your emails.

“It’s actually really… woodsy in here.” Kurt tells you, looking around your room in astonishment. “It’s funny how every student's room has a different vibe, yours smells like pine.” He sits next to you on the bed, the side of his thigh touching yours.

“He just sent me a bunch of attachments, he’s been really into my work on nanotech so whenever he has a question he emails them to me.” You shrug, typing back a response to his question saying ‘does nanotech make a sound?’

As you type out the response and finish sending it. Kurt speaks again. “What is that whirring sound?” He asks, looking down at you and you look up at him after closing your screen. Your faces uncomfortably close.

“I actually have no idea. It’s been happening since last night, I just assumed whoever's my neighbour got something that makes that sound or maybe the AC is acting up.” You shrug and he stands up, his pointy ears twitching slightly as he picks up your build-a-bear.

“Nobody is in that room… The student who was sleeping there left a few months ago.” He tells you and you slowly get off the bed. Approaching him as he holds the bear. “Y/N… Where did you get this?” You gently take the bear in your hands.

“From the mall… There’s a build-a-bear shop there.”

“The day you went with Professor Howlett?”

“Yes.” You squint your eyes in confusion. “Was this always there…?” You mumble.

“I don’t know, was it?” Kurt asks, looking down at the little bear's right eye which seemed to have a spec of a glowing red spot on it.

Some panic gets to you, setting deep in your stomach, making you want to vomit. Who would put a camera in your bear? You ask yourself, and Kurt verbally asks the same question. “I don’t know… I’m going to bring it to Professor Howlett though… He’s the one that helped me stuff it.” Kurt only nods, and you wrap the bear in a shirt before putting it on the shelf in your closet and closing the door, leaving the camera to watch the dark…

[veltana]

Sell my soul - 1

✦ Pairing: Lloyd Hansen/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~1k

✦ Rating for this part: Mature

✦ Warnings/tags: Alpha!Lloyd, Omega!Reader, omega auction, slow burn, eventual smut, pet names (sugar plum).

✦ Summary: Lloyd buys you

✦ Note: Due note that this is a drabble series and the parts will be short, but I hope you like it any way! I started writing this because Lloyd was trying to hijack my brain and take over the Buy my heart series, so he got his own instead, and I'm gonna make him suffer 😈 Reblogs, comments and asks are much appreciated!

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

“This is bullshit,” you mutter as you pull on the sheer dress. It's basically see-through. Why can't you wear regular clothes? Isn't it embarrassing enough that you have to sell yourself, you have to be as close to naked as possible also?

But you do it anyway and don't say anything more. This is really your very last resort. Everything else you've tried so far has been a failure.

Panic starts to rise in your chest. What if he's out there? What if he buys you?

Then you realize that everyone sitting out there is an alpha and he wouldn't be allowed in. It calms your nerves a bit but you still glance around now and then as you wait for your turn. He's found you before. You're not safe anywhere.

“This is bullshit,” Lloyd growls as he adjusts the mask covering his face. He recognizes the scents of at least three alphas, despite being unable to see their faces. The masks aren't hiding shit. He knows they're more for the omegas on stage than for the alphas but so far the entire event has been a disappointment, and he regrets attending.

Instead, he studies the high ceiling and artwork on the walls, only glancing at the omegas appearing, one after another getting bought.

Just as he's about to up and leave the omega on stage catches his attention. Eyes that keep flickering and a stubborn mouth, but otherwise delectable! He raises his paddle before he even knows it. A few people bid too, but Lloyd is determined. His paddle is the last to go up.

The omega's mouth is a thin line. A smile cracks Lloyd's face below the mask as he rises and makes his way out to pick up his newly acquired omega.

“Be nice, be nice, be nice. Be nice to the alpha who bought you. You need his protection.” You remind yourself as you stand outside in your clothes after being shown out by the attendant. There isn't an alpha around and your eyes keep searching. You don't like to be out in the open like this but if you huddle against the wall he's probably going to think you're weird. Or you'd have to explain.

With a roar, a flashy sports car pulls up. The owner steps out and looks at you. He’s tall with neat hair slicked back, a mustache above his smile, eyes sparkling with glee. You look away, he obviously thinks you're a prostitute. It would be great if your fucking alpha could show up.

“Hey, get in!” The man calls. You glance at him before saying, “I'm waiting for someone.” “Yeah, me! Omega, get over here right now or I'll command you.”

You stare at him. He waves a piece of paper. “You're the alpha who bought me?” “Damn straight, sugar plum!” Sugar plum?! Your name is on the paper!

“Actually,” you begin but he interrupts you. “We can talk in the car, come on now!” Displeased, you walk over.

The inside looks barely used but it’s filled with his scent. It’s a delicious perfume that smells like the woods after it's rained, an earthy clean smell with an undertone of burnt sugar that makes you think of creme brulee. Saliva pools in your mouth and you ignore it.

Your new alpha, who still hasn't introduced himself, steps on the gas and the car shoots down the road. “Where are we going?” “To my place, it’s not far!” At the speed he's driving, you're downtown within minutes, too focused on holding on to ask any other questions. He doesn't offer any more answers, either. Soon, you lose track of where you are, finding yourself in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Elegant houses and high-rise buildings blend together unnaturally. He parks in an underground garage, and the elevator ascends to the tenth floor. Everything looks new and untouched almost. You've never been in such a place before.

Inside the door, you stop and stare. The apartment you used to live in was a perfectly adequate size, but this is ridiculous. On top of that everything is spotless and sleek. Sure, his scent is present in the apartment, but otherwise it looks like no one lives in it, very similar to the car. Your new alpha seems to be very neat.

You look down at yourself. It's been a while since you had the opportunity to wash your clothes properly. The bag in your hand with your few belongings has seen better days. The alpha struts into the apartment, not noticing you've stopped. You don't have socks on so you don't want to take off your shoes.

Frozen in place you can't decide what to do. Everything is just too much. But you're still at the front door, if you turn around you can run and go back to what you know. It would be easier in a way. He doesn't know you. He has a name but it won't get him anywhere.

Steps coming towards you snap you out of it and you meet the eyes of the alpha. They are calm and blue. The urge to run settles and you notice he has a bundle of clothes in his arms.

“You'll have to borrow some of my stuff until we've washed yours and gotten you more clothes. Bathroom is this way,” he jerks his head and turns around. This time you follow.

The bathroom has everything one could wish for and you look longingly at the tub. How long ago was it that you had a real bath? The alpha puts the bundle down on top of a basket and then shows you where to find towels and what all the different dials in the shower do. You nod, trying to keep up.

Then he turns and heads out but before he shuts the door you blurt out, “Wait! What's your name?”

He turns around and grins at you in a way that is both creepy and at the same time not unpleasant. “It's Lloyd Hansen, sugar plum.”

next

[behindthesoul]

Hello!

Getting back into MK I was wondering how would Kenshi, Johnny and Raiden react if they were told that S/O had gone missing on Mission possible dead, and after a few days their s/o shows up bruised and snapped up but live?

Missing Mission

Masterlist

Warnings: bad injuries, hospitalization, alcohol mentions, not proofread, not my highest quality work

Kenshi

Silent and brooding.

One could practically feel the anger that seeped out his bones. If looks could kill, everyone in Kenshi’s vicinity would be dead; not many would risk their lives by making direct eye contact with him, even though they’re covered in red cloth.

Saying he was pissed off would be a complete understatement. The two of you had been together for about three years now. Kenshi thought of your future together daily - what do you mean it’s being taken away?

In quiet moments alone, Kenshi thinks about where you could be. You must be so scared, so alone, so injured…that is, if you were even alive. He chokes back tears at the pain of not having the closure of knowing what happened to you.

Weeks later, Kenshi’s semi-adjusted to his normal routine. He grieves you daily, but it’s mostly kept inside. He arrives home one day to feel that something’s off; something isn’t right. Sento in hand, he walks through his house, trying to figure out what was happening.

He eventually makes his way to the kitchen where you sat. You nurse a glass of whiskey and smirk.

“Took you long enough to get here. I’ve been waiting all day.”

Kenshi freezes, he doesn’t know if it’s truly you or if this is just some sick joke. You get off the chair you’re in, grunting in pain as your feet hit the ground, and walk over to him. Kenshi knows everything is real when your hand reaches over to caress his face.

He frowns as he feels a bandage wrapped around your hand. His frown morphs into a scowl after he leans over to plant a kiss on your lips, noting how you slightly wince from a small bruise that was planted in the area.

He pulls back and doesn’t know what to say. His breath is a bit shaky and his mind is racing. Words couldn’t explain the anguish of your disappearance, and the joy of your return. Kenshi wishes he could see you again, to be able to get a proper look at your injuries.

Your pain is temporarily ignored when you kiss him again.

Johnny

Uncharacteristically silent. Panic sets in almost immediately. I feel like Johnny would blame himself just a little bit. He already fucked up one relationship, why did he let another slip out his hand? What’s wrong with him?

Days turned into weeks, and Johnny spent each moment wallowing in pity. The pity soon becomes bitterness; no one could recognize who he was becoming.

It’s not long before Johnny forces himself to at least try to return to his normal self. He goes back to being the life of the party, cracking jokes left and right. Though, many notice that his jokes become more dry and lifeless.

He spends a lot of time outside. Home just isn’t the same anymore; it’s devoid of any love and laughter. Johnny only arrives home to sleep, only to feel his heart break once again as he crawls into an empty bed.

A month or two passes before Johnny gets a sudden call. It’s from the hospital, telling him that you’ve been found and-

Nothing else was heard. Johnny immediately raced to the hospital, possibly breaking several traffic laws in the process. Whoops.

He rushes into the hospital and finds your room in record time. Johnny feels his body getting heavier at the sight of you laying in the hospital bed, beaten and bruised. He couldn’t even begin counting the amount of injuries you had. Walking over to your bed and taking your hand in his, Johnny allows a few tears to fall.

You’re home, but you’re not okay.

Raiden

Quan Chi and Shang Tsung had escaped from their prison cells in Sun Do. Liu Kang sent you to Outworld to track them both down. You went alone, as Liu Kang had full faith and your abilities. He also wanted this mission to be completed as quietly as possible; the sorcerers would no doubt flee if they heard many Earthrealm champions were after them.

Your boyfriend didn’t hear about your mission until you already left. Raiden, just coming back from a mission of his own, was a bit upset that he didn’t get the chance to at least say goodbye.

He kept himself busy while waiting for your arrival. He hung out with Kung Lao, ate at Madam Bo’s, and spent time at the Wu Shi Academy. One week, you’d be back in one week. He could handle that.

But a week quickly became a month. Raiden definitely panicked but did his best to ease his own nerves. Lots of deep breathing and redirecting any negative thoughts that try to plague his mind.

Jumps into hero mode when Liu Kang confirms that you’ve truly gone missing. Helps plan an entire rescue mission and plans to find you alone. Liu Kang has to reel Raiden back to make sure he isn’t getting himself into trouble.

Along with a few other allies, Raiden travels to Outworld. He is met by Mileena and Kitana who assist with the search. Millions of thoughts of you being dead run through his mind and he, once again, forces those thoughts away.

The search only lasts for a few days before you’re found near a swamp behind Shang Tsung’s old laboratory. You set up a temporary shelter there so you could nurse your injuries; broken ribs, deep bruises and gashes, and a sprained ankle.

Raiden lets out a huge sigh of relief and rushes over to you. He hugs you as firmly as he can without hurting you more. Raiden looks into your eyes and shows a small smile.

“Just when I thought you were lost forever.”

Mileena and Kitana have you escorted to the palace infirmary where you stay until you’re fully healed. Raiden stays with you the entire time, making sure you never lift a finger.

[rc-writes]

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢  

pairings: benny weir x reader

warnings: one curse word i believe, i say y’all one too many times lol

a/n: this was requested by the same irl friend as my other benny hcs! this blog is going to turn into just a benny fan club soon enough lol. but anyways, i would like to say that in the middle of typing this a roach decided to appear out of nowhere in my room 🙃 that was interesting. also not me writing yet more benny headcanons at 1am. like dude it's bad enough you started appearing in random dreams of mine for a few months (like he’d show up for like to seconds and then dip, or he’d just be in the background and not even say a word) but now you won’t even let me sleep?? 

you and benny had been friends since middle school

which means you guys have been friends forever in your minds

this also means that the idea of benny liking you or you liking him in more than a friend way, and vice versa, was never a thought that crossed either of y’alls minds

for a while at least

since you were friends with benny that also means by default you’re also friends with ethan

and you three, with the occasional rory appearance, most likely spend an insane amount of time together

i’m talking spending full days playing video games or watching movies, grandma weir loving you, having a love-hate relationship with jane, etc.

this leads me to say that there has to been at least one instance where someone though you were dating one of them

or both

which can go one of two ways

either you’re all stuttering, awkwardly trying to explain you’re just friends

or you all laugh it off because that would be ridiculous right?

right?

i feel like if someone was thought you and benny were together he’d be the type to laugh it off

which would lead to you laughing it off as well because once again that scenario never even crossed either of y’alls minds

benny normally flirts with everyone one he sees, especially if they’re the nerd type

it’s like a second nature at this point

so obviously if he never even attempted to flirt with you that means you two are in fact friends, best friends, bros even, and whatever other words that mean friends

until one day benny’s whole universe flips upside down

the gang was fighting yet another monster of the week as per usual

except this entity was particularly nasty and you ended up getting hurt

like i’m talking needing a quick trip to the er kinda hurt

i can imagine trying to explain what had happened was interesting

turns out you sprained your wrist and had a mild concussion

you were going to be fine but the doctors wanted you to stay over night just incase

but no matter how many times you or anyone else said it benny was not listening

you were literally in the hospital, why was no one else panicking??

you are sitting in a hospital bed!!! with a sprained wrist!! and a concussion!!!!

you’d swear you were dying by his shear panic

he’d feel like shit for not being able to protect you

he literally had magic powers so why was this even happening??

you’ve lost count how many times you had reassured him that it's okay, you can take after yourself

i can see him being like stiles in that one episode of teen wolf where stiles fell asleep in the waiting room for lydia until they kicked him out

grandma weir would have to come pick him up and the entire way home she’s all like 👀 because like yes a best friend will get worried about their friend but this seemed like it could be something more

but knowing grandma i think she’d keep her mouth shut and let him figure it out

it’d be funnier that way

and sure enough in the middle of the night benny wakes up in a cold sweat and is like

oh

oh

????

benny short circuits

he decides to ignore that for the time being

but the next day when you’re released from the hospital ethan suggests that they go see you and benny says no

and ethan’s like?? what happened to him thinking you were dying??

eventually benny confesses to which ethan is now even more ????

after some convincing ethan gets benny to go see you

“dude you guys have been friends forever, nothing’s changed”

“‘nothing’s changed’!?!? what do you mean ‘nothing’s changed’?? everything has changed!!”

cue benny being acting so odd once he gets to your place

which confuses and concerns you since less than 24hrs ago he was acting like you were dying

you questioned ethan about it but he quickly and awkwardly said he had no idea

but the fact that he said it in a higher pitch, stuttering, and way over the top about it, made it clear that he did know something

but you dropped because you knew ethan wasn’t going to snitch on his friend

yet, you thought

new mission unlocked for you: figure out what the hell happened to your best friend over night

benny’s new mission was to make sure by all means that you did not find the answer to that

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Nine

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R for smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains mentions of scars/burn scars/branding, it's not very detailed but please avoid if you find these things upsetting. There's also the usual smutty behaviour. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.5k

A/N : This is set the morning after the last chapter. I've given up on trying to keep each part under 4k and am now just embracing it and letting it get unhinged. Thanks to everyone still reading this, I hope you're enjoying the direction the story is taking!.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT

Chapter Nine

The room was spinning. You blinked, eyes bleary and refusing to focus, trying to remember why you felt like you’d been hit  by a truck - ah, that’s right, all the tequila. Closing your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep until your hangover was gone. And you would have, if it wasn’t for the realisation that you weren’t alone. There was a warm hand possessively pressed against your bare stomach, beneath your satin camisole. Billy.  

But the fact that he was there, in your bed, his arms around you, didn’t upset you nearly as much as what you were wearing.

The satin pyjama set left little to the imagination, showing off the scars of your arms that you always went to such great lengths to cover, exposing you in a way that made you feel sick to your stomach, panic quickly taking hold. For a moment you were frozen, staring at the marks left by broken glass and pulling yourself through fire and, then, at the brand that had been etched into your skin; a letter S surrounded by a heart. What had Billy thought when he finally saw you?

You pulled away from Billy’s arms, stumbling as your feet found the floor and your knee connected with an open drawer. If the sudden movement hadn’t woken him, the pained yelp you let out certainly did.

“Hey, what’s -” you heard him start to grumble, but he stopped the moment you turned and he saw the panicked look on your face. 

You froze and, for a second, so did he. It would have been the perfect opportunity for you to move, to grab something to cover yourself with, but you couldn’t think, could barely even breathe once the panic really started to take hold

“Are you alright?” He asked, cautiously sitting up and getting out of bed, slowly moving towards you until you started to shrink back. Billy stopped the moment he saw you recoiling, holding up his hand in a silent surrender. He was wearing his boxers and nothing else, and - and you couldn’t remember anything after leaving the club last night.

Your throat felt dry and, for a moment, you couldn’t find the words that you knew you needed to say to him. You needed him to leave, needed him to know that whatever had happened between you last night had been a mistake. You needed to do something, anything, to get him to go.

“You should -” your voice came out as little more than a frightened whisper, Billy had to lean closer just to hear you. “You need to go, I need you to go.” A tear escaped, spilling down your cheek. You hadn’t wanted things to end like this, you’d wanted to be able to end it on your own terms with happy memories of the night you’d had together, but now Billy had seen you. A choked sob clawed its way out of you, shaking your entire body.

“It’s okay,” he tried again, slowly reaching for you. Even though some part of you longed for him to hold you, to help make all the terrible feelings go away, you stepped back again. Confusion and concern warred for place on his face. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Last night, it wasn’t -” you wanted so badly to remember what had been said, what had been done, but it was all a haze. But, there Billy was, in his boxers while you felt barely dressed in the satin pyjama set. “We shouldn’t’ve -”

“Nothing happened last night,” he interrupted softly. You shot him a confused look that he countered with a gentle smile. “You asked me to stay and - and I didn’t want to leave you. You were drunk and I wanted to make sure you’d be alright. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, it was just a long night.”

“Did you undress me?” You didn’t want to accuse him of being a creep, but you couldn’t understand how you’d ended up in your pyjamas, in those pyjamas.

“No, you did that yourself, you even made me turn around. All I did was hand you your PJs” he explained, still keeping his distance, still speaking so softly. “You wanted to walk home in the rain last night and we both got soaked, remember?”

You shook your head.

“Billy, please,” you tried again, “can you just -”

“I’m not leaving when you’re this upset,” adamant but still so gentle, and it was almost enough to make your heart ache. After everything you'd said and done, Billy was still fighting for you. “Is it me? Is it something I did?”

You sniffled as tears continued to roll down your cheeks. You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him no, save for the slightest shake of your head. He hadn’t done anything, this was all you, your past and all the broken pieces you’d never wanted Billy to see. You pulled your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together while everything felt like it was falling apart. You didn’t even realise you were shaking until Billy moved, grabbing the comforter from your bed and wrapping it around you before you could protest.

“You’re trembling,” he muttered softly.

You weren’t sure if he pulled you towards him or you spilled forwards into his arms, but the next thing you knew, he was holding you tight while you sobbed against his shoulder. The minutes ticked by and he didn’t move, didn’t try to speak or do anything. He let you get it all out, all the while holding onto you, letting you know he was going nowhere. 

Eventually, you were all cried out.

“I didn’t want you to see,” you finally muttered, face hidden against his neck.

“See what?” He asked carefully, cautiously understanding just how fragile the situation was.

“The scars...”

“Oh,” he breathed out, like he hadn’t even noticed the scars before you mentioned them but, then; “is that why you keep pushing me away?”

It wasn’t that simple, but you found yourself nodding regardless. It wasn’t just the scars, it was how you got them, it was the life that you’d left behind when you came to New York; it was who you were, it was all the mistakes of your past. It was all the things you’d never be able to tell him.

Your heart stopped when he pulled away from you and took a step back. You couldn’t even bring yourself to lift your head, already so convinced that he was about to walk away from you, that you’d hear the sound of the door closing behind him at any moment. Pulling the comforter tighter around you, you choked back another sob; you needed him to leave, but you didn’t want him to go.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your cheeks, urging you to lift your head and look at him. His deep, dark eyes found yours with a softness you knew you didn’t deserve, a softness you hadn’t realised that he possessed. His thumbs wiped away your tears and, for a second, he didn’t seem to know what he wanted to say to you.

“I’m not gonna walk away from you just ‘cause you have scars, sweetheart,'' a tender smile on his lips. “Everyone’s got scars. They don’t change how I feel about you.”

“But -” you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say, how you wanted to protest.

“No buts,” he stopped you, “I don’t know what you thought I was gonna think when I saw them, but the scars don’t bother me and I don’t think any less of you ‘cause of them. To go through all that and come out of the other side? That just tells me you’re a survivor like me, and that’s all I need to know. Your past is your own and, if you never want to tell me about it then…” he trailed into a shrug.

Without thinking, you pressed forwards into him, his arms pulling you back into a momentary embrace before he lifted you off your feet and returned you to bed. You relaxed into his arms, finally tired of fighting against what you wanted. Billy gathered you in his arms and held you tight, making you feel safer than you had in a long time. You tried to fight against sleep but, eventually, it managed to find you. And, as you slept, Billy held you.

Three hours passed before you stirred in his arms, your head resting on his chest above his heart while his hand held your arm, his thumb lightly running over the letter etched into your skin at the crook of your arm. His hand moved the moment he realised you were awake, cupping your cheek tenderly.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you offered shyly, feeling like this was the first time that Billy was seeing the real you. “You stayed.”

“Of course I did, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. How’s the hangover?”

“Not great.”

Billy responded by pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Need me to get you a glass of water?” 

“No,” you answered a little too suddenly, “just - stay with me.” Your arms pulled tight around him, wanting to make sure he couldn’t leave you.

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” holding you tighter, letting you know he wasn’t going anywhere.

Silence fell and you closed your eyes again, concentrating on the steady drumming of his heart beat. For a few minutes, Billy seemed to assume you’d fallen asleep again, staying quiet and letting you rest.

“I’m sorry,” you finally muttered, keeping your eyes shut.

“What for?”

“For being a bitch last night. I shouldn’t’ve mentioned your ex,” you felt him tense just at the mention of her, “I don’t think you’d hurt me. I just - I wanted you to leave me alone.”

“And now?” The hesitation was clear in his voice, he still felt tense, worried that things were about to fall apart again.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admitted, finally telling him the truth, but it wasn’t that simple, “but there are things about me that I can’t -”

“Sweetheart,” he interrupted, “I already told you, I don’t need to know anything about your past that you don’t want to share. If you want to tell me, you can, but I’m not gonna push you.”

“How can you say that? I could’ve done something terrible, something unforgivable, something that could ruin your life.”

“‘cause I’ve got plenty of shit in my past that I’m not proud of, but I’m trying to do better and I think you are too,” he explained. “Nothing you could say is gonna change my mind. So, whatever it is you’re hiding, you don’t have to push me away over it.”

It should have set your mind at ease knowing that he wasn’t going to push, that he was only interested in the you that existed in the here and now. But, really, what did that mean for the two of you? What if he changed his mind or, worse, what if you opened yourself up to him and he hurt you? The constant push and pull of the last couple of months had left you exhausted and, now that there was potentially an end to it, you weren’t sure what you wanted. The safest option would be to carry on as you had been, keeping to yourself, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted Billy.

The silence dragged on between you, giving you more and more time to think and overthink every little thing, not knowing what to say to him. And,eventually, you came to realise that the time for words was over.

Lifting your head, you found Billy’s lips, kissing him softly, telling him everything you couldn’t find the words to say; you wanted him, you weren’t going to push him away anymore.

Billy kissed back, and it wasn’t long before things started to escalate. His tongue slipped between your lips, his arms pulled you closer. But it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, you wanted anything that might silence all the doubts in your head once and for all. You straddled him, your hands roaming his bare chest, fingers running over all of his scars and imperfections. 

Your hips started to move, needing more of a distraction, needing to feel not think. Billy groaned beneath you and it wasn’t long before you felt him grow hard, stoking that familiar heat between your thighs, arousal quickly soaking through your satin shorts. It made you want more, made you want everything. Your movements quickly became frenzied, chasing something to silence all the complicated thoughts and emotions that were overwhelming you.

“Hey - hey, slow down,” Billy pulled his lips from yours, hands finding your hips, trying to slow things down. And, when that didn’t work, when you refused to slow down, he rolled you, putting himself on top. “It’s alright,” he told you softly, recognising your internal panic “let me help.”

Your breath caught as he placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and started to slowly pull up your camisole. Lifting yourself, you helped him remove it, though you could feel your cheeks burning with shame as more scars were revealed to him. But Billy didn’t even seem to see them, he just continued to smile softly at you before kissing you again, waiting until you started to relax beneath him. Then, his lips started to trail downwards, going slowly, like he was trying to commit every piece of you to memory.

Lips and hands explored your breasts, enjoying teasing your nipples into hardened peaks, before slipping lower. Your heart almost stopped when he reached one of the more prominent scars that ran across your stomach, but Billy didn’t flinch, he looked up and caught your gaze as he kissed along the length of the scar before continuing downwards, until he reached the waistband of your shorts. Lifting your hips, you helped him remove them, leaving you completely exposed beneath him as he sank lower on the bed.

He lifted your leg over his shoulder, lips finding your thigh, trailing kisses upwards while his fingers ran slowly down your tightening belly. His stubble tickled and scratched along the inside of your thigh, his hot breath creating dampness against your skin. Your fingers slipped into his dark locks as your hips lifted, urging him on. You were panting for breath before his lips were anywhere near you, and when he reached the wetness between your thighs, you stopped breathing entirely. Billy paused, breathing you in, committing everything about the moment to memory. And even though you couldn’t see his lips, you knew he was smiling.

“Fuck,” he muttered, “you’re already dripping for me.”

Your cheeks burned as he looked up at you, and just seeing him there between your legs drew a whimper from you, your fingers pulling at his hair trying to coax him into action. Billy toyed with you, lightly kissing and ghosting his lips against you before, finally, parting your folds with his fingers and letting you feel his warm tongue. He dragged it against you, flat and hot against your arousal, lapping the wetness around your slit before focusing his attention on your throbbing clit. 

It wasn’t long before you were writhing beneath him, one heel pressing into his back while the other dug into the mattress, pressing your hips desperately against his greedy tongue. You moaned wordless pleas as your fingers tightened in his hair, begging and demanding with every desperate noise that slipped from your lips.

A heat rose inside you, burning you from the inside out, and when you thought you couldn’t take it any more, you felt a new sort of pleasure. His index finger breached your slit with ease, and you moaned as he set to work, stroking and curling in time with the rhythm of his tongue against your clit. Your thighs trembled around his head and Billy quickly doubled down.

Another finger penetrated your wet walls, pulling a desperate cry from your lips, your back shamelessly arching, pressing yourself against his eager lips and fingers. And, when your movements turned too eager, too desperate, he tried to hold you in place with a strong hand on your stomach.

You were getting close when you felt his lips pull around your swollen clit, sucking it, distracting your while he managed to slide a third finger into you, stretching you, trying to prepare you for what came next.

“Fuck, Billy!” You cried out, overwhelmed by everything he was doing. And, when his fingers bent inside you, hitting that special spot, you fell apart. Your head pressed back against the pillow, crying his name, over and over, as you came on his fingers.

He didn’t start to slow until he was sure you were done, letting his fingers slip from your trembling body, but his lips remained, tongue trailing slow circles around your over-stimulated clit. Then, finally, he kissed your pussy, as deeply as he would your mouth, allowing himself to indulge in one last taste before pulling away. He lingered for a moment, taking the opportunity to slip out of his boxers before slowly kissing his way back up your body. Your fingers remained in his hair, lacking the brainpower to even consider letting him go.

Billy came to a stop, leaning over you supported by his elbows, looking down at you. His lips and chin were coated in your arousal, and you could taste it on his tongue when he finally kissed you again. It was intoxicating. And, soon enough, you wanted more.

Now that this was really happening, you wanted everything.

For the longest time, he seemed content where he was, his body hovering above yours as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your hips lifted, needily trying to angle yourself so the tip of his hard cock trailed through your slickness. Billy groaned into your mouth, lowering his hips a fraction, then a little more as your hips started to move, as if he didn’t even realise he was doing it. You kept moving, rocking your hips, letting him slip further between your soaked folds, letting him feel the throb of your clit against his shaft. Slowly, your hands slipped down his back, fingernails tracing the path of his spine before you hands came to rest on his ass, pulling him closer, leaving no doubt what you wanted.

Whatever shred of restraint he’d been clinging to quickly vanished and his cock slowly started to fill you. Moaning, you pulled him closer, a leg hitching on his hip, opening yourself up for him, feeling the delicious stretch as he filled you.

It took a second for you to remember that he wasn’t wearing a condom, but once he was inside you and you could really feel him, you knew you couldn’t stop. You knew you’d never want him any other way. If Billy realised he wasn’t wearing a condom, he didn’t let it show, but you could tell from his face he loved these new sensations just as much as you. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he finally bottomed out.

“Don’t hold back,” you begged, before common sense got the better of either of you.

Billy pulled back before pitching his cock back into you, letting you feel every hard inch. Your body gripped him tight, soaking him as he started to fuck you, your arousal letting him move with ease. He didn’t hold back, didn’t take things slow; he gave you exactly what you’d asked for.

You moaned and moved beneath him, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts, overwhelmed by how much of him you could feel now he wasn’t sheathed in rubber. And Billy seemed just as lost in you. His eyes fixed on you, watching the way your mouth went slack and your eyes rolled back as he fucked you. He groaned your name over and over, like he was laying claim to you, and a vague memory of last night filled your mind; once you’re mine, I’m gonna ruin you.

His lips pressed against the column of your throat, kissing and nipping, while his hand rested on your breast, fingers plucking at a hardened nipple. He was everywhere, but it still didn’t feel like it was enough. Your nails dug into his back as he fucked you harder.

“Oh, fuck, Billy,” you moaned, pulling him closer, clawing at his back, demanding more.

“You like that?” He asked, smirking down at you. “You want it rough, sweetheart? Need me to fuck you harder?”

“Please -” 

Before your brain had a chance to catch up, Billy had pulled your legs over his shoulders, changing the angle and opening you up to him, so every hard inch of him could fill you over and over. His fingers continued to play with your nipple, while his other hand rested somewhere between your shoulder and your throat, pinning you beneath him with the slightest pressure. Your head lolled back on the pillow, offering your throat to him without thought, but his hand didn’t move. (Maybe next time, you hoped.)

“Billy I - I’m so close -” you begged.

“Come for me, sweetheart. Come all over my cock.”

“Not without you, I want -” you were cut off by another moan tearing its way from your lips. “Billy, please…”

He continued to fuck you until your walls started to flutter around his cock and your body started to tremble, thrusting into your a couple more times before he fell apart with you. 

“Oh, fuck, Billy. Yes...” You shuddered and cried out as he came, a sudden heat filling you, burning you from the inside out, letting Billy lay claim to you completely. His hips kept moving, cock twitching, gripped tight by your body as he emptied himself inside you. 

Everything fell silent and still when he was done, but he didn’t pull away save for letting you lower your legs back onto the bed, leaving you with his cock buried inside you while you caught your breath. Your arms wrapped around him, holding tight, not wanting the moment to end. You liked the weight of his body on top of you more than you wanted to think about, and there was something so intimate about the way his face was pressed against your neck as he slowly came down from his high.

“I never want to wear a condom with you again,” he finally muttered. You weren’t sure if it was a joke or a demand, but it didn’t matter, not when you’d had the same thought. You didn’t even have to answer, your body did it for you, squeezing tight around his cock. Billy finally lifted himself so he could look at you, a tired smile on his lips. “You alright?

“Yeah, I just...” you weren’t sure where to start or if it was the right time to start any serious conversation with him, given the fact that he was still inside you and your thighs were still trembling. “If we’re going to do this, I need to know that there’s no one else, that you’re not sleeping around. I know you said you don’t do love or relationships or whatever, but I can’t do this if you’re fucking other women.”

Your stomach dropped when he didn’t answer straight away. He took a moment to think about it, to think about whether you were worth giving up casual sex whenever he wanted it - and that he had to think about it at all made you feel like you weren’t worth it to him after all. While he was thinking, he took the opportunity to finally move, slipping out of you and rolling onto his side beside you.

You’d hoped that space between you might help you think clearly, but once he moved, you found that all you could really think about was the slickness he’d left between your thighs.

“I can do that,” he finally answered, “but -”

Billy fell awkwardly silent, like he was struggling with this just as much as you were.

“But?” You prompted, not really sure you wanted to hear the rest.

“I need to know that you’re not gonna push me away again, and that you’ll tell me when I fuck things up. And - and I need to know that you’re not gonna fuck other guys.”

Some part of you wanted to be offended - Billy had already seen firsthand how badly trying to fuck other men had gone for you - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something vulnerable and you realised that you were asking him to do something he wasn’t used to. You were asking him to trust that you wouldn’t leave him. Whatever you were, it might not be a relationship but it would be exclusive.

“Okay,” you agreed, and Billy smirked at you.

“And you have to let me eat that sweet pussy whenever I want.”

“Hmm, I think I can just about manage that,” trying to bite back a laugh.

His hand moved to cup your cheek, but the moment you noticed the bruising you intercepted it, taking it between your own hands and inspecting the damage, concern written across your face.

“I’m sorry, Billy.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” He was quick to comfort you, shushing you when you tried to protest. “I should’ve handled things better, you only went to the club ‘cause I was an asshole to you. Let’s just put it behind us, okay?”

You nodded, softly kissing his bruised knuckles before squirming closer to him and wrapping your arms around him again.

“Do you still want to take me for dinner?”

“Depends, do you want pizza again?” He asked with a laugh.

“I’ll let you pick this time.”

“Tomorrow, seven o’clock,” he decided and you nodded, “and pack a bag, I want to take you home with me afterwards.”

“Oh, you think you’re going to get lucky?” 

“Sweetheart, as of this moment, I’m already the luckiest guy in the whole fucking world.” Billy grinned.

You laid in bed together for a little while longer before real life started to rear its ugly head. Billy’s phone started to ring and, honestly, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that he’d obviously decided to take a day off work just to be with you. 

He slipped out of bed to answer the phone and you found yourself watching him, taking in the sight of his naked body while he bent to grab his phone from his pants. The conversation that followed seemed fairly one-sided and you couldn’t tell what was going on from Billy’s single word answers, but the look on his face said it was serious.

“What’s up?” You asked, as he hung up. 

“A security issue’s come up at Anvil.” He answered with a sigh, moving back towards the bed.

“It’s okay, Billy. You can go if you have to. We’re going for dinner tomorrow night, right?” This wasn’t an ending, it was a start, and you wanted him to know that. 

“Right,” he answered, leaning down to kiss you softly. “I meant what I said; pack a bag tomorrow. I need a whole night of you.”

He kissed you again, almost getting caught up in the moment before you managed to pull yourself away from him, pointing towards the door. You watched as he got dressed and pulled on a hoodie and some sweats to see him to the door.

Chapter Ten

END NOTES : I don't have much to say this chapter, because I don't want to risk giving anything away, but thanks so much if you've been keeping up with this! Unfortunately I've given up on trying to keep these chapters short now so, anything that follows is probably going to be the same length.

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (if it's not working for some reason... I honestly have no idea how to fix that but I hope it is working??)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove @danzer8705

[blazingstar400]

Incorrect Scarlet and Violet Quotes Part 6

Just everybody’s typical school lives.

[Clavell after catching Juliana, Nemona, and Arven riding Koraidon in the school halls]

Clavell: All of you are in big trouble for not only riding Koraidon in the school’s halls, but for also having three people, a very unsafe number, for riding just one Pokémon!

Nemona: Shoot!

Arven: Wait, three?

Clavell: Yes?

Juliana: OH MY GOSH FLORIAN FELL OFF!!!!

[Florian finally shows up to class after missing a few days]

Jacq: Where have you been?

Florian: Asleep.

Jacq: For four days?

Florian: Yeah.

Clavell: Good job, Arven.

Arven: Thanks, dad.

[Everyone freezes]

Arven: Why is everyone staring at me?

Penny: You just called Director Clavell ‘Dad’. You said ‘Thanks, dad’.

Arven: What? No I didn’t!

Clavell: Do you see me as a father figure, Arven?

Arven: No! If anything I see you more as a bother figure because you’re always bothering me!

Saguaro: Hey! Show your father some respect!

Arven: He’s not my dad!

Juliana: I just find it surprising you attached on to Clavell of all people.

Arven: I didn’t! But even if I did, who else would I attach to?!? Raifort?!

Raifort, who is on the far side of the room reading a book: I really don’t appreciate being brought into this discussion.

Arven: You see?!

Juliana: Hmm.

Clavell: Alright, I believe you.

Arven: Thank you!

Clavell: …Son.

Arven:

Clavell: Do you want to talk about this… over a game of catch?

Arven:

Arven: ……I’d like that…

Juliana: Do you ever just see something that changes your life and you’re just like ‘huh’.

Kieran: I saw you.

Juliana: That’s so nice and sweet and it makes this really awkward because I was just gonna show you this drawing Drayton made of Carmine as a monkey.

[The gang about to head out on a field trip]

Cyrano: Now before we take off make sure that all small things are secure.

Drayton: *leaning over to Kieran*

Kieran: What?

Drayton, smirking: Do you feel safe?

Kieran, through gritted teeth: Stop—!

Kieran: Despite what everyone thinks, I don’t actually hate everyone in this class.

Carmine: Are you sure about that…?

Kieran: Well actually Drayton is completely terrible.

Drayton: Ouch.

Kieran: I dislike Crispin because he’s Crispin.

Crispin: Really bro…

Kieran: Juliana was clearly cheating in the training session yesterday.

Juliana: Wha—

Lacey: Juliana winning isn’t called cheating…!

Kieran: Amarys was being particularly annoying this morning.

Amarys: I just said ‘excuse me’ because you were blocking my way…

Kieran: And Florian said ‘It’s not appropriate to yell at other students.’

Carmine: Soo you hate everyone then?

Kieran: Well maybe if all of you stopped being so irritating I might like you better.

[Geeta and Rika being called into Clavell’s office]

Clavell: Juliana got into a fight today.

Geeta: Is she okay?!

Rika: Did she win?!

Juliana: Just forget about it, no one got hurt.

Miriam: You had a concussion!

Juliana: No one got seriously hurt.

Miriam: You were in the ER for six hours!!

[Dendra when she just became a teacher at Uva/Naranja Academy]

Dendra, waking up in a panic: Shoot, I’m late to class!!!

Dendra, lying back down: Eh, but I already gratulated…

Dendra:

Dendra:

Dendra, sitting back up: Shoot, I’m the teacher!!!

Clavell: Florian, did you happen to hear my announcement?

Florian: I hanged onto every word.

Clavell: I’m going to assume that’s sarcasm.

Florian: Correct.

Clavell: So you didn’t hear my announcement?

Florian: I’m barely listening now.

[Juliana after helping Arven and Kieran study for a upcoming test]

Juliana, beaming: Alright guys, I think you’re both ready for that test!

Arven: Great, I just want to test my knowledge real quick. Give me a word.

Juliana: Oh, okay!

Juliana: Um… what’s a synonym for ‘abandonment’?

Arven: Oh, I know this one!

Arven: My childhood!

Juliana: What—?

Kieran:

Kieran: I was going to say something different but actually I second that.

Juliana:

Juliana, tearing up: Aw, you guys—

Nemona: *actually studies, gets good grades*

Juliana: *doesn’t study, still passes*

Arven: *gets Bs*

Florian: *low Cs, doesn’t care*

Penny: *cheats and gets away with it*

Drayton: *cheats, and gets caught*

Crispin: *gets a B-, and is happy*

[At lunch hour]

Juliana: Arven, we’re hungry!

Nemona: Yeah, Arven, we’re hungry!

Carmine: Hurry up, Arven!

Penny: What’s taking so long, Arven?

Florian: Arven, what’s for lunch?

Arven: *screams*

Kieran: Look, I don’t want to talk about it.

Juliana, pulling out a guitar: Would you rather sing about it?

Kieran:

Kieran: You make it so hard for me not to murder you sometimes—

Juliana: Trust fall!

Clavell, from the other side of the room: I’m not going to catch you.

Juliana: Trust. Fall.

Clavell: No.

Juliana: I’m falling!

Clavell, launching himself over the table to catch her: WAIT—!!

Drayton: What are you doing?

Crispin: Homework.

Drayton: There was school today?

Crispin: *nods*

Drayton: I thought it was a long weekend.

Crispin: It’s Thursday.

Drayton: Oh, it’s almost the weekend. No point in going now.

Jacq: Florian is late again.

Penny: I woke him up at 8 and pretended it was 11.

Nemona: I wrote a fake schedule saying we started at 9 instead of 12.

Juliana: I set his clock to PM instead of AM.

Jacq:

Jacq: You all may have overdone it.

Florian, bursting through the door panicked: WHAT YEAR IS IT?!?!

Tyme, walking into the classroom: Alright, so today— *sees ‘Turn down for —’ written on the board*

Tyme, confused: Turn down for what?

[Suddenly ‘Turn Down for What’ blasts through the speakers as the whole class gets up and begins partying]

The sv gang: TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!

Yes both Geeta and Rika grew so attached that they are practically Juliana’s adopted moms lol.

[cloveroctobers]

IN WHICH YOU GO CAMPING! | The Bear —[Summer Writings]

A/N: i haven’t done some somewhat lengthy preferences in a while and I miss it. They’re direct and quick which is why I like reading them as much as I like writing them lol. I think I’ll blame the caffeine (and gorgeous weather) for dropping two works in a week but I’m also excited for season three so there’s many reasons for this! Hope you guys like 🖤

WARNINGS: language & feels?

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞

SYDNEY: when you brought up the idea of going camping (staying in a cabin) over breakfast at Sydney’s place, she paused from putting her fork into her mouth as she stared over at you with her round eyes. “…you mean…outside?” You laugh with a nod of your head, “well where else are we supposed to do it? We’re in the city so we need to be one with nature! With greenery and not bozos who think they can drive.”

Sydney listened to you talk, putting her phone down to give you her undivided attention. She noticed how excited you seemed to be about getting away, bringing your own phone out to show some Airbnb that was ready to be booked and that you could even invite the rest, if they were willing to take two to three days off for a little “summer fun.” Now with the bear being revamped and carmy being even more of a pain in the ass, it would be hard to convince everyone to go and taking Sydney had Carmy doing a big exhale. He knew he had a lot to make up for and since Sydney had a contract to go over he bid his farewell with a quiet, “have a good time…and text me when you get back.”

You didn’t dwell on that too much since you were just glad you got to spend time with your girl. Fak and Marcus even tagged along and that seemed to ease Syd’s worries about the stay turning into a whole, “Friday the 13th murder scene.” And not because they were men—you knew how to use a shotgun—but there was always strength in numbers. Now fully booked it was go mode with a check list of making sure you had everything prepared and packed on days leading up until it was time to go. It excited you that Syd seemed to be down for the trip until…it came down to fishing and there happened to be an angry snake in the boat, causing panic and a flip of the boat sending the both of you crashing into the water together. Fak didn’t notice anything because he was too busy taking advantage of the whole painting outside with his back to the water while he went into air drummer mode to some music with headphones on.

Marcus knew he heard something but he was messing around in the kitchen and didn’t think much of it. He spun back around just in time as a soaked Sydney went stomping by, he looked at you with a tilt of his head along with a frown as he pointed in Sydney’s direction, “she good?”

You sheepishly smiled with a shake of your head, whispering to him that you’d, “tell him later,” before sprinting forward to a huffing and puffing Sydney upstairs. After your showers, You helped her blow dry and spray down her braids so they wouldn’t get frizzy, avoiding her burning gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “So…that was adventurous.”

The creaking of Sydney gripping the sink so tight could be heard as she questioned through clenched teeth, “I thought you said there weren’t any snakes!”

“I mean does anyone truly know what’s in the water?” You asked while Sydney slowly turned to face you and if looks could kill…you wouldn’t have to worry about Jason Voorhees at all.

CARMY: you’ve been talking about camping since forever. You first brought it up as a thought to spend Christmas together, away from everyone possibly in a cabin or even renting a RV, and thought that the snowy landscape would be a pretty view and you knew that was one holiday carmy hated. He would commonly brush it off, letting it go in one ear and out the other keeping his focus on any and anything else. He didn’t mean to do it on purpose but he wasn’t exactly keen at the idea either. There was so much to do and camping wasn’t one of them. Carmy barely had free time and it was a miracle that he wasn’t fucking up his relationship with you. You stood ten toes down for your man but when you got the call from sugar (at a surprisingly good day at work) where Carmy refused to take an ambulance ride after passing out from an anxiety attack at the bear? you had enough.

“I’m fine.” He started but you whipped around to him, a fire so bright in your eyes.

“Are you fine with the fact that you could drop dead from cardiac arrest one day?”

This situation wasn’t that but carmy wouldn’t be surprised if that was how he went out one day. He couldn’t even tell you when’s the last time he had a physical and his own father passed from a heart attack due to heart disease when he was young.

He blinks, his hair greasy and pointing in all sorts of directions, “…if that’s how I’m meant to expire then there’s not much I can do about it then.”

Wrong choice of words to say to someone like you. The tears were hot from the corner of your eyes as you gripped carmy by the collar of his shirt, yanking him so that you were nose to nose. “I’m telling you that I’m willing to take care of you since you won’t do it yourself and this is how I’m going to do it: You’re leaving the bear behind for a couple of days to Syd and Nat for a change of scenery.”

Carmy scrunches up his face, “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Yeah and so are you!” You knocked your forehead against his in warning while he moved his from yours, “I will fucking drag you Carmen, try me.”

The side eyes were strong as he drove down to Plymouth, Indiana while you’re singing along to the radio and tearing up a bag of veggie chips. He’s been all over the world seeing some stunning sights and even tried out for boys scouts way back until…Donna ruined that. Carmy always preferred the city, the noise was much easier to drown out when everything was too much at times compared to the slow and quiet. Silence was something he didn’t think he could ever get used to. To put it simply, Carmy wasn’t thrilled about this trip and knew he wouldn’t live it down from everyone at the bear once he got back.

He had plans to check in during: prep, opening, rush hour, and dinner but as soon as you started walking the woods shirtless he was on his feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! You don’t know what kind of sickos are out here.” His hands are shaking as he’s trying to keep his eyes trained on your face, yanking up his red rain coat to wrap across your front while he peers around the trees only hearing the birds sing and the running of water from the river out east.

“Well maybe it needs to be free the nipple time for you to spend quality time with me and not your phone. I’m surprised you still have signal out here anyway.”

Carmy sighed, “I’m sorry…I just want to make sure things are running the way it should.”

“Uh huh and you worry too much. We’ve only been out for three hours and you’re still thinking about everything back home…which means I’m not doing my job enough so.” You attempt to get out of Carmy’s arms as he’s still shielding you from any hikers or killers.

Carmy tries to reason with you, “alright, okay! Can you just put a shirt on, please? I’ll make us something and we can take a walk along the river after to talk?”

You lift your chin, pretending to think about it before smiling, “I’ll get the flameless candles.”

Carmy puffs out a laugh with a shake of his head, you peck his cheek, ready to slip from his grasp but he’s still holding the jacket. You scoff as you slip your arms through it so it’s fitting backwards against your frame, holding your fingertips out the too wide of a jacket to show that you’re secure, Carmy steps back with a scratch of his brow and a dip of his head. He watches as you make a show, strutting back to the tent, which is not far from where you two stood and even tease him a little, letting the jacket slip while glancing at him over your bare shoulder.

“Y/n…” he warns while you just laugh and continue on.

Soon you’re sitting by the fire you both manage to put together, you wanted to use the utility lighter but Carmy already had some smoke going by the time you found it. You got comfy on the log beside Carmy as he got to work making some veggie fried rice that you knew would taste as good as being back at home. You were dating an award winning chef here! you had no doubts about the taste as carmy was always in his zone.

Crossing your ankles over each other you watched him work, knowing just how much pride he put into his craft. The stress was what Carmy was used to and you knew that but you were also ready to give him balance. To show that there was more you can have outside of the hustle of being a chef. That’s what this was and as you wrapped your arms around Carmy’s right arm, you nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder letting him know that you were still here.

To teach him.

He’s stops bouncing his knee a bit as he settles back against the log, letting the rice cook down some more. The both of you watch the flames beneath the pot, the two of you had the fire inside, with yours being beneath your feet and Carmy’s being in his heart—or maybe it was the constant heartburn? It wasn’t meant to be dimmed by each other or tamed it was meant to be worked with.

Carmy slightly turns to you then, brushing his lips against the top of your head, which you briefly close your eyes to at his affection. He shifts to rest his on top of yours and exhales. If this wasn’t love…then it was damn near close.

RICHIE: “get your ass over here, Richard!” You chased the lanky man around with the camp fork.

His laughter echoes off the trees as he’s doing his damn best running circles around you. You were doing him a solid, coming out here camping because it was his ex-wife Tiffany’s idea. Which then led to her fiancé putting it into motion and then Eva wanted Richie there—although they were all there to get to know each other—but then richie thought it would be cool to ask you to tag along. You didn’t really want to be outside in the woods unless it was a lake house or even a damn cottage! But Richie lied to you telling you it was combination of both of those things and this is how you ended up here.

Surrounded by grass.

He thought it would be funny to throw a raw sausage at you across the fire. Of course you can take a joke, you had to half of the time with a guy like Richard Jerimovich! What made it worse was him squeezing mustard at you right after. The both of you got here earlier since Tiffany had a last minute situation she needed to take care of and just pinged the area for you two to go ahead and they’d catch up a little later.

It was much later.

“Aw come on pork jizz is funny!”

“It’s childish is what it is and Eva isn’t even here!”

“Well thank god for that because I was thinkin’ we can break in that tent before everyone gets here, whadda say?” He wiggles his eyebrows while you catch your breath.

You peered at the lopsided tent, “I think! I should not only kick your butt for doing that and ruining my favorite lollygagging frog shirt but for also lying.”

“Sweetheart, you wouldn’t have thought twice if I told you the truth. I need you here, okay! Is that what you want to hear?” Richie asks.

You tilt your head to the side, “you need me?”

“Is it not obvious?! I’ve been shitting myself thinking about this Frank guy being not only in Eva’s life but ours. What if he’s—

“Nope! We’re not doing that.” You step towards Richie who steps back, puffy blues locked on the weapon, which you cackle at before tossing it to the side and holding your hands up in surrender, “don’t go back to bringing yourself down for some guy we barely know when you’ve shown nothing but personal growth. Your greatness doesn’t have to come at the expense of other’s past versions of you.”

Your hands are locked across his waist now as Richie closes one eye to think about what was being said, “…so what you’re saying is: I’m pretty fucking great?”

A smirk spreads over his face while you roll your eyes with a groan. He leans down to press a scratchy kiss against your slightly sweaty neck but he doesn’t mind. “Nah but all jokes aside, that means a lot coming from you.”

“And it’s nice to know that I’m needed.”

“If I ever gave you that impression then I dunno what the hell I was smoking that day, baby!”

You laugh a little before taking the mustard from your chin to smear right on the corner of Richie’s unamused lips.

Eva’s voice cuts in before Richie can retaliate and it’s a sight to see Richie beam up at the small blonde, “Daddy!”

He steps around you as you inhale and also turn to watch him bend to catch the running girl into his arms. Tiffany’s fiancé drags their own equipment and bags where your set up was while the beach waved woman awkwardly makes her way over to you. She waves, which you return as she stands beside you to follow your sight of richie with Eva.

“We’re late, I know! I’m sorry about that. What have you two been up to?” Tiffany starts with her dark doe eyes.

You turn your head to her, hands on your hips, which makes her look down at your chin and the graphic v-neck, “it’s Richie…I shouldn’t even have to ask right? I’ve got some tide to go if you want it?”

“Would you be so kind?” You two share a laugh, “The stench of mustard is actually starting to make me gag.”

And with that you two make your way over to their set up in process, making yourselves comfortable around each other.

MIKEY: The rough taps against your face brings you back to your senses. You blink the water from your lashes but feel a chill run up your body until a warm breeze glides over you and makes you realize you’re in the arms of someone.

“There you are! I’ve got ya.” Michael’s voice is heard from behind you and you should have known.

Keeping your low-lidded eyes locked on the rolling water you rasp out, “did I just drown?”

“Almost honey, you didn’t take any water to the lungs i don’t think. It took me a minute to find you after the boat got away from us.” Michael tightens his hold on you while you try to move around, “take it easy, will you? You got a nasty bump on the forehead and I managed to get your nose to stop bleedin’.”

It’s like you didn’t feel any of that until Michael mentioned it. A shaky hand went up to one of your nostrils, feeling the crust at the end and wince at the ache from the top of your brow. “Mike, what the hell happened? We were fine, the water was good.”

You’re much more of a water person than Michael was, being deep into water sports since you were younger and carrying it into your adulthood. Your family had their own sailboats, you were on a white water rafting team where you’ve competed in championships all over the world, and your parents were into windsurfing and all that jazz. You knew to respect the water at all times but you couldn’t remember how you got to this point.

Michael always missed out on majority of your championships even if they were in the states but would always ask questions (even if it was local and played on tv at the restaurant or he found a link to stream from his phone) and be ready to hear you tell him every detail so he figured it was time to see you in action out here. That was starting to look like a mistake now. He just didn’t expect this outing to end up with your kayak in pieces and being swept under with the current.

“It was crazy, we didn’t have time to figure anything out. The wind was picking up, you got whacked by a too low hanging branch because I was trying to show you the animal, I saw a fucking bobcat just watchin’ the show from the sidelines as a whirlpool basically grabbed us by the balls!” Michael was getting heated now as he rubbed at his jaw in irritation, “I need a cigarette and to keep you far from this water.”

You looked out towards the mentioned liquid, “what happened to the kayak?”

“What do you mean what happened to it? It’s gone, evaporated into the water where it got damn belongs!” Michael gruffed out.

You sigh as you lightly touch Michael’s arm, “freak accidents happen all the time, Mike.” You started, making the man lean back to look at you in disbelief while you continued, “I’m okay though, did you get hurt?”

“Yeah I did get hurt honey, by losing sight of you!” Michael exasperated with a, “Jesus Christ,” thrown in underneath his breath.

You’re craning your neck to get a good look at the clean shaved man, not taking his word of not having any physical injuries, “So I guess it’s safe to say you won’t be out on the water with me anymore?”

Michael huffs, “and if I had a say in any of this, you wouldn’t be out on it anymore either.”

“Glad you know me so well.” You laugh then wince again at moving too many muscles in your face, “that’s just like me taking you away from Chicagoland.”

Michael sighed as he reached another hand to caress your face, eyes locked on the lump above your brow, “it’s just a place to past the time…but i don’t wanna waste any of mine without you.”

You knew the highs and lows of the family restaurant so those words weren’t a shock to you. Of course Michael had love for the family business but when you take everything on your shoulders you learn to become uncomfortably comfortable with it. Sure he had dreams of what it could be but things never worked out in his favor so he just kept on pushing the best way he knew how.

He shouldn’t be dependent on anybody because he never had to be but whenever you were in his arms? made life just feel a whole lot better.

Worth something, even.

“Was that a line, Mikey bear?” You tease while the man rolls his eyes, swiftly gripping your jaw to peck your lips.

He winks playing into your humor, “Did it work? Naaah but I mean it, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t—

You shush him, “so don’t think about it. I love you, mean it.”

“I love you too, honey.”

“You mean it?”

“Always.”

“Good, now get me outta here before we become bobcat food.”

Michael doesn’t hesitate getting to his feet (although he’s had his own sticks ready to battle if the bobcat did ever show its face up close) and scooping you into his strong and loving arms. You try to protest but he’s not trying to hear any of it, getting you far from the water and into safety.

LUCA: “I knew it! We’re lost and I told you compasses are nothing but lies and set ups!” You dramatically fling yourself against the 10,001 tree you’ve seen today.

The golden blond shakes his head at you, blues locked on the device rather than your complaints. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

“So you finally admit it, we’re lost.”

Camping in Copenhagen was much different than in the states. They give you camp sites and everyone can lounge around like it’s some big festival with their tents or vehicles or you could venture out on a hike to find your own secluded spot. You should have never let your on and off again boyfriend fling? talk you into this.

Luca continues to ignore you, turning each and every way. He pauses for some time, eyes locked on the sky. “That doesn’t look good,” he mutters before waving his hand at you, “we need to find shelter and quickly.”

You’re already on your feet and say at his back in close proximity, “what is it? Do you see a bear?”

He says over his shoulder, “No…a storm is coming.”

You just about collapsed at those words. This was just what you two needed! to be lost in the woods that probably had Blair witch lurking in them along with a storm deciding to rip through. You wanted nothing more than to strangle the beautiful Brit in front of you.

Should have never let him hike his way through your trail against one of these trees, further delaying your path to an overlook but regardless you probably would have gotten lost since the both of you were out of your elements.

Luca nods his head in the direction you would be going, expecting you to follow. You do but not without grumbles and constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure nothing was lurking and ready to attack. In summary, you were not much of an outdoorsy person. You would have much rather spent your time at a pool or spa but Luca asked you to spend the weekend with him…which wasn’t necessarily random but you two were “off” in your relationship.

So you thought.

Luca wasn’t looking for a serious relationship due to the heights he continued to reach at the restaurant and he’s been your on going rebound after being cheated on. Why did that completely change after months of having an intimate relationship? It was a total cliche that you always kicked yourself for whenever you thought about Luca.

Not watching where you were going, your ankle was yanked back while you were walking thanks to being too much in your head, which sent you tumbling right into the dirt. You yelped, feeling the pain radiate through your ankle and the soreness circling in your belly now.

“Oh, what have you done? Can’t walk and daydream at the same time can you?” Luca says, making light of this situation while you managed to toss the dirt in your hands at his own feet.

You hiss as you try to sit back on your knees and there’s concern in Luca’s natural arched brows. He’s squatting, eyeing the swell of your ankle. “That’s not good.”

“Ya think!?”

“Your attitude I’m not loving today.”

“I probably just sprained my ankle and we’re going to be eaten alive by a storm! Or worse being possessed by the witch! So I don’t care!”

Luca exhales as he makes quick work of taking his backpack off to find the first aid kit. He’s wrapping your ankle, grabbing your water from the side of your bag and forcing you to drink. “Nothing is going to get us if we keep moving, yeah? At a much slower pace now but we make work with what we have. You’ll hold my hand and this stick to support your foot.” He hands over a large stick, “slow and steady wins the race I guess. I won’t leave you because if I really wanted to…i don’t think I would have invited you out here and would have done so ages ago.”

A glare is send right to a grinning Luca while you swallow your water, making him pinch your chin which you slapped away. “I don’t know why I like you or put up with you.”

“Just like you said, you actually like me. Really like me.” He continued to pick with you, helping you to your feet, “stop being a negative Nancy and look at the bright side. It’s not a completely bad day…once we find shelter I’ll share your favorite, The Romsnegl.”

You perk up at that as Luca intertwines your fingers now, “you made some?”

“Course I did.” Luca casts a glance over at you as you start moving or in your case limping, “I knew it would be only a matter of time before you went into your rants about hating nature so it was my task to make the treats.”

“Sounds like you really like me too.” You say after some silence, lightly bumping Luca’s arm who snorted with a roll of his eyes.

It’s drizzling now but in the distance you both lock eyes with a structure that you knew Luca would deem as shelter. The lightening blinks through the sky, making you two pick up some speed in your steps. You wait outside the hobbit like cave as Luca checks it out just in time as the downpour pelts down.

Plopping down right at the entrance but out the way of the rain, you stretch out while shining your own flashlight around the small cave while Luca is searching through his own bag.

“Luca…what’s that?” You shine the light at the back of his pink neck.

He turns back to you with the container of pastries, “What?”

“You have something on your neck, babes.” You pointed with a scrunch of your nose.

He shrugs,“It’s probably from my other lovers.”

You don’t feed into that considering the vents from earlier, “I’m serious, Lu.”

He slides the container your way while he takes a hand to brush against the side and back of his neck. Frowning he asks you to take a picture and starts to scratch at it once you show him.

He deeply sighs, “This is either poison Ivy or some other sort of bug bites.”

“Welp there goes the Romsnegl.” You shuffle off your bag and grab some spray, motioning for the tatted man to face away from you.

Spraying him down and waving the air to help it dry the both of you turn to face the storm.

Luca leans towards you over the thunder, trying his best not to scratch,“okay…I officially agree. Camping fucking sucks.”

You laugh, sending Luca a knowing glance before throwing yourself back against the ground with your arms thrown over your head.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 𝄞

Continue with my summer prompts & writings here.

[hugsandchaos]

The Dannypocalypse

I don’t know how to photoshop yet, so this will be my first contribution to the Dannypocalypse instead! It’s unfortunately very short compared to my usual work. I think I did a good job despite it, though! Hope you enjoy!

Actual Summary: Warriors has what he believes to be the weirdest nightmare, Danny is confused.

Word count: 1,919

The first thing Warriors noticed waking up was the lack of the smell of cooking food. That, along with routinely having to get up almost before he even realized he was awake when he was captain, helped him push himself to wakefulness almost instinctively. He didn’t pay much attention to that small part of his mind still trying to put up a fight and get him to go back to sleep. It’s lost for years, and it won’t win this time. Although he felt a little bit heavier than usual. Warriors rubbed the gunk out of his eyes before stretching his arms above his head.

He slowly stood up and opened his eyes to see Wild, Wind, and Four huddled together with their backs facing him. Looking around, Warriors couldn’t see anyone else. The clearing they’d set up camp in was vacant aside from him, the three heroes, and the pot. The forest was also oddly quiet, and it was much later in the day. Maybe closer to lunch than breakfast. The realization made a part of his subconscious panic and think that any moment now, he’d be scolded badly, like back in training.

All these things were off and didn’t make much sense. How did he sleep in that late? Or not notice the others leaving? And if the fire was burning, why couldn’t he smell the smoke? He walked towards the three heroes who were probably looking at the ingredients that hadn’t been cooked yet. Maybe they were deciding what to actually cook. Interrupting was usually rude, but Warriors had to know.

“Hey, where are the others?” He asked. The three of them turned around to face him in unison, and to say that Warriors was startled by what he saw would be an understatement.

Where there should’ve been their faces, Danny’s face had replaced them. They all held the same expression, something akin to irritation or semi-controlled anger. Like the expression was asking “Did you really just do that?”. It was wrong. Very wrong. Not only their face, but also their hair was exactly like Danny’s. The unnatural sight was more scary to Warriors than it should’ve been. He’s felt true fear before, fear that erased everything else in his mind until there was nothing left except his internal voice screaming at him to run, and this was pretty close to it.

The sense of dread that came from seeing someone’s face on a person it didn’t belong to made him feel like he was frozen in place. His mind screamed at him to run, to get away from whatever was happening, but he couldn’t.

The three of them stood up. That was the push Warriors needed to finally move his legs and take a step back, then another. Another step back, and the three heroes took one towards him. Even though they weren’t holding any weapons or a shield, that was enough to make Warriors finally turn his heel and break out into a sprint in the opposite direction. Not towards any specific destination, just away from whatever he’d just seen.

Why did they have the new kid’s face?! How did that happen?! It hadn’t even looked like some mask, it was like their very heads were replaced as soon as they turned around. Where was the original? Where were the others? Maybe they knew something.

The worst thing was even though the captain was going as fast as he could, he felt like he was going at a snail’s pace, and it was terrifying. One glance behind him showed the three abominations running after him, still bearing the same expression. The forest seemed to go on for quite a while before he broke out into a large field he remembered passing through with everyone earlier. Standing by a tree in the shade were the silhouettes of three people.

Warriors could see the outlines standing out against the sunlight covered grass behind them, but for some reason, he couldn’t make out who they actually were. One of the shapes looked like Sky with the cape, but the other two were more difficult. Regardless, he sprinted towards them.

“Hey! Sky?! Is that you?!” Warriors asked, sounding more panicked than he would’ve liked, but he felt like he couldn’t help it. The three of them stepped into the light. Sky, Legend, and Hyrule all had Danny’s face and hair instead of their own.”No, it’s not!” Warriors said, answering his own question. He turned to the left and bolted across the plains, still feeling as if he was moving incredibly slow. It was like he was watching everything ahead inch closer through glass goggles.

Still, seeing his friends’ faces replaced with the new kid’s face was unnaturally horrifying, especially when they’re chasing him without opening their mouths to take steady breaths so they could keep going while Warriors feels like he’s suddenly running low on breath. It only got worse when he suddenly found himself re-entering the forest and running along a skinny dirt path. That wasn’t the bad part, though. The bad part was Time sitting on a small boulder to the right of the path. Just like the other six, he too wore Danny’s face.

“Shit!!” Warriors exclaimed as he ran past. Time watched him pass by before Warriors heard the sound of heavy armor starting to move, and he knew that he was about to chase him as well. It only fueled Warriors’ fear even further, pushing him to run past his limits, and that’s just what he did.

The dirt path led him to a spirit spring like the one in Kakiriko village, surrounded by very tall rocky walls consisting of red and orange colors. On the other side, the water turned to grass to support a fence. A fence encasing several Ordonian goats like in Twilight’s drawings along with Twilight himself, petting the goats like there was nothing wrong.

Warriors had his doubts about him being okay and not having Danny’s face, but he had to try. He must know what was going on!

The water splashed loudly as Warriors ran into the shallow lake. Soon, seven pairs followed behind him. The way the water turned from a clear liquid into solid green grass as he grew closer was definitely abnormal. There should be at least sand between them!

He lunged over the fence when he grew close enough, ducking into a roll and standing up quickly.“Twilight! Thank goodness!” Warriors exclaimed. He started to slow down a little as he grew closer to the ranch hand.”Listen, there’s something—“ He stopped talking when Twilight turned around to reveal that he also had Danny’s face instead of his own. Warriors immediately started running again somewhere to the right, and Twilight’s footsteps following behind him never sounded so scary.

He jumped over the fence on the other side of the plain and kept running now on solid ground as fast as his legs could go, and he even did all he could to push them past that. The way the rocky canyon surrounding the spring opened up on the other side to reveal more open space and green grass didn’t make sense. How was he back on the plains?

He’d seen the map had Twilight shown them of his Hyrule, but trying to reach into his memories and get a clear image of it was very difficult. He was running blindly through a world he wasn’t familiar with, and it was one of the worst positions to be in. Warriors continued running through the forest until he spotted a castle in the distance.

Yes! The castle town! He was sure he’d find help there from the guards!

Warriors kept going as fast as he could, fast enough to make part of him tell him to slow down or he’d trip and hit the ground that was slowly becoming white bricks, but he refused to listen. Especially when that small part of him was outvoted by the rest of him. He ran over a wooden bridge going over a river and past the open, unguarded entrance. Once he was inside and saw the crowd, his eyes widened in horror. He forced himself to stop so suddenly that he almost fell.

Every single person, young and old, tall and short, wore Danny’s face. And they were looking right at him.

Warriors turned around to try to get out and get somewhere else, but he stopped when he saw his friends right at the entrance he’d passed mere seconds ago. They formed a wall and blocked him from leaving.

How did they get there so fast?!

The captain frantically looked around. The crowd was slowly closing in on him, but it felt like he only had seconds to do something or some terrible fate would claim him as its next victim. No matter where he turned, the weird Danny-faced-not-Dannys would be blocking any exit. He didn’t want to do this, but seeing no other option, Warriors tried to reach back for his sword. But his hand clasped over thin air. He turned around. He’d forgotten it back at the camp.

Before he could turn back to look ahead, a hand grabbed at his left shoulder.

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

Warriors startled awake and inhaled sharply as he sat up. For a while, the world was concealed by several black, fuzzy looking dots, but those soon faded away to allow room for what was actually in front of him. At the same time, he became dizzy when he sat up too fast, so he didn’t process whatever was said to him or even notice it until it was repeated.

“Are you okay?” A voice asked.

Warriors quickly turned to see Twilight knelt down next to him. Warriors felt swarmed with relief when he saw that he had his normal face again, black marking and all. He couldn’t help but breathe out a small sigh as the tension from expecting to see Danny’s face unnaturally plastered on the ranch hand’s head again vanished. He never thought he’d be so happy to see someone wearing a face that was their own.

It was then that Warriors registered the hand on his left shoulder. It was all a dream.

Twilight looked worried as he anticipated an answer.

Warriors took a moment to look around the campsite, just to be sure. Sure enough, everyone had their normal faces. Time, Wind, Wild, Hyrule, Legend, Four, all of them. They were already awake and talking while Wild worked on breakfast. Warriors lifted his arm and put his head in his hand. Twilight still had his hand on his shoulders to try to comfort him.“I think I just had the weirdest nightmare of my life.” Warriors admitted, half muttering it in slight disbelief.

Even though he wasn’t in actual danger in the dream and he was awake now, the fear for his life still lingered in the back of his mind. None of Danny-look-alikes had really threatened him, but the way they kept following him and eventually had him surrounded with the only way out seeming to be with his sword was terrifying.

“Really? What was it about?”

Warriors practically jumped out of his seat and turned to look at Danny. The only one with his face, the way it should be. The hoard of Danny’s flashed in Warrior’s mind as he stared at the teen now with slight distrust.”I’ve got my eye on you.” Warriors said, before he even realized it. Danny, the real one, just looked at him confused.

Bonus:

Danny: *glancing between the other Links, then back at Warriors, utterly confused* What did I do???

(I hardly ever write dreams, but I remember some of mine pretty often, so I tried using some of the themes I’d encounter along with some tips I looked up. Obviously, I used the whole “somehow running very slowly” thing, and since Warriors wasn’t familiar with Twilight’s world yet, and dreams are often mixtures of reality, memories, and imagination, I didn’t think I had to make sure the story went along with the map. I also tried to find some middle ground between not being very descriptive and not giving any description of the dream surroundings.)