#eventually ill hit ocean and have to deal with that but i think having a drippy area will be fun

[muffinrag]

extremely fucking bored of my streamer friend's minecraft server so I'm building the backrooms underneath it

[troquantary]

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Spoiling Dinner

So... been a while since I shared a slice of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings and Always, hasn’t it? A whole month in fact. Yikes! Don’t worry, I’m still working on it, just, ya know, chronic illness. I’ve been getting less spoons to work with these past few weeks. Don’t be surprised if the next clip takes another month to appear.

Anyhoo, onto the clip itself. I figure why not show off some more drama from Step 2? It was referenced in the Adrift snippet that Jamie chose their thirteenth summer to be the time to reveal the big deal Cliff offered her to Cove, so I figured why not give a peek at that? So here’s another slice of Step 2′s moment, Dinner.

As always, thank you to everyone who enjoys reading my work and giving me such lovely feedback, especially the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch. I can’t thank you all enough for encouraging me to keep working on this self-indulgent little fan project.

...

Despite the fact that Cove and Elizabeth had never been friends, and it was rare they even really got along, it was always interesting to see and hear about how Jamie interacted with her big sister. The relationship Jamie and Elizabeth had was always something he could never quite get a grasp on.

“I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have a sibling,” he admitted after a moment.

Jamie took some time to give serious thought to that statement. It was a tricky thing to explain to someone without a point of reference. A sibling relationship wasn’t anything like a parental one, and it wasn’t really like making friends with a kid who just happened to live in the same house either.

It was also hard for Jamie to want to touch on a topic that would bring the mood down. Still, Cove did remind her recently that he wanted to listen to her problems…

“It’s complicated,” Jamie eventually concluded. She took her time to choose her words with care as she focused her gaze on the tank again, though she didn’t really watch the fish this time. “I love Elizabeth, and when we were really little, we were best friends. Then she started making friends at school like Shiloh and, well… It’s just over time, I guess we just grew apart. She’s still a lot of fun to be around, but only when she wants to be there.” Her voice quieted a little. “But now, she barely feels like hanging out with me.”

Cove couldn’t think of how to respond right away as he grew aware of the melancholy that had settled over his best friend. He knew Jamie and Elizabeth didn’t spend all that much time together, but he hadn’t realized it was something that bothered Jamie. He took his time to consider what to say, pursing his lips as he tried to figure out the best way to help Jamie with something he never had to deal with before.

“Maybe you should talk to her about how you feel about it sometime,” Cove suggested, though with an uncertain note to his voice. He couldn’t even imagine how that talk might go. “If it’s really bothering you, I’m pretty sure Elizabeth would wanna know.”

Jamie considered that before shaking her head a little. “It’s fine. It’s not really that big a deal. Besides, I don’t think that’d really work.” She favored Cove with a bent smile. “I mean, this is Elizabeth we’re talking about here.”

Cove had to admit Jamie had a point there. Although not intentionally malicious, Elizabeth did have a tendency to overlook other peoples’ feelings when it came to doing what she wanted. “I guess you’re right about that.”

Jamie turned to face Cove properly as she strengthened her smile, feeling compelled to soften the awkward atmosphere she had created. “Don’t worry about it. Having a sibling is still pretty great anyway.” She playfully nudged him with her elbow. “And besides, I already have the most amazing best friend in the entire world by my side.”

Cove felt warmth fill his cheeks at that, and he nudged Jamie back softly in return with a shy smile of his own. “I feel the same way.”

Jamie relaxed a bit now that the mood had returned to something more jovial. “And in case you were wondering what it’s like to have two moms, it’s absolutely the best.”

Cove nodded. Even if Elizabeth could be a challenge to get along with at times, he had always known Noelani and Pamela to be friendly and encouraging, if a bit strict with their rules. The Leimomi family were overall probably the best neighbors he ever had, especially Jamie. “That’s… interesting. I think your family is cool.”

Jamie flashed Cove a grin, glad he agreed. It was impossible not to feel like she hit the jackpot when it came to the family that she ended up with. She couldn’t consider having better parents, or even a better sibling.

Of course, talking about parents brought Jamie’s mind back to the dinner she was going to have with Cove and his. Things were weird between the three of them in ways she didn’t know how to touch on.

The little surprise Cliff pulled at the beginning of summer had just made things even more strained. Things felt tense in a way that reminded Jamie of when Cove first moved to Sunset Bird.

That line of thought brought Jamie back to the first time she met Cliff and the deal he had offered her.

Jamie glanced at Cove out of the corner of her eye, noticing that he had gone back to looking at his fish. He probably never learned that ever happened. She doubted that Cliff ever mentioned it, and as for her…

It bothered her. The incident hung over her head for the past five years, popping up in her mind at awkward moments that left her feeling guilty despite the fact that she never took the twenty dollars Cliff had offered her.

When Jamie was little, she held the secret back from Cove for fear that he might decide not to be her friend anymore. He resented being pressured into becoming friends with Lizzie and Shiloh, so he never did. Granted, that was more because he just didn’t click with either of them than due to parental meddling, but still… In her eight-year-old mind, she was convinced that if Cove ever learned that Cliff wanted to pay her to be his friend, he would be so upset that he would never want to see her again.

That fear had disappeared over time as their relationship grew stronger, but that didn’t make the subject trouble her any less.

Jamie was keeping a secret from Cove - a big one. Usually, they told each other everything from silly jokes to their darkest thoughts. The only other thing she kept from him was just how deep her feelings were for him, and she already had a plan in motion for how she was going to tell him about that.

Much like with her crush, Jamie had sought out Lee’s advice about the incident with the twenty dollars. Her cousin had encouraged her to just tell Cove about it, if only because it bothered her for so long and wouldn’t stop haunting her.

Besides, Cove deserved to know that his dad did something like that behind his back. This incident with Kyra proved that Cliff was still pulling stunts like this, and not just on him.

Jamie knew that if the positions were reversed, she would want to know the truth about something as big as this, and as soon as possible.

It had been five years. They weren’t eight anymore. Telling Cove wouldn’t destroy their friendship.

She had to tell him.

Jamie placed her hands on the mattress to steady herself, drawing one back into her lap when she accidentally brushed it against Cove’s thigh. The unintended touch drew his gaze back to her - she could feel it even through her closed eyes. She took in a deep, steadying breath as she prepared herself.

The quiet that had settled between them was comfortable, Cove thought, finding it a sharp contrast to the uneasy atmosphere that had overtaken his home since the beginning of summer. Jamie’s presence made things easier on him - it always did.

That was why Cove didn’t expect to see Jamie looking so tense all of a sudden. He could tell that she was building herself up for something, but he couldn’t imagine what. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, her expression was solemn and tainted with nervousness.

“Cove,” Jamie said before pausing to wet her lips. “There’s something… I-I have something important to tell you. Something… something you’re not gonna like.”

The undercurrent of unease to the way Jamie spoke troubled Cove almost as much as what she said. He turned to give her his full attention, his knees bumping against hers in the process. “What is it?”

For a moment, Jamie could only stare into her best friend’s ocean blue eyes. Cove waited patiently for her to find her voice again, but the longer it took her, the greater the tension grew. She could see it in the way his brow furrowed and his lips curled down into a frown.

Please don’t get mad about this, Jamie thought desperately, feeling as though her stomach was tying itself in knots. She was already regretting her decision, but she had already said too much; she couldn’t just drop the topic as if it never happened. She had to take another deep breath to steady her nerves as they started to fray on her.

“It’s… um… it’s about way back when you moved here,” Jamie finally said, practically forcing the words out. “Before we met, I actually met your dad first and…” She started to falter as what she wanted to say started to fall apart in her mind, and she scrambled to right herself. “It was… your dad he… um, well…”

Jamie had to pause to gulp down another lungful of air, feeling as though there suddenly wasn’t enough around her.

Cove started bracing himself for whatever Jamie was struggling to tell him. The more she spoke, the more nervous she grew, and it was making him anxious as well, impressing upon him the seriousness of what she wanted to tell him.

Whatever this was, it was big, and he needed to be ready to deal with it.

“Your dad offered me twenty dollars to be friends with you.”

The words came out of Jamie in a rush then hung so heavily in the air between them that the already thick atmosphere turned suffocating.

Cove locked up. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. What Jamie told him made everything else disappear.

His dad… bribed Jamie to be his friend?

Jamie held her breath as she waited for Cove to respond. He sat still, so utterly still. He was no longer looking at her, but through her, as if she ceased to exist. His face, always so easy for her to read, was uncharacteristically devoid of expression.

Then Cove was moving. He said nothing as he rose from the bed before bolting from the room.

For a moment, Jamie froze up as well. Shock kept her rooted to the bed even after Cove disappeared around the corner.

This was… oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no!

Jamie tore after Cove once she could move again, panic giving her feet wings. “Cove!”

Cove didn’t hear Jamie. He didn’t even hear his parents as they bantered while setting the table, oblivious to what was happening. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as he reached the living room.

For a moment, Cove could only stand there and glare at his father. His entire body was a tense coil, ready to spring. His hands faintly shook from how tightly he clenched them into fists at his sides.

Although Jamie caught up to Cove, she froze again just short of him. She didn’t need to see his face to know exactly what he was feeling - he was furious.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kyra asked as she finished setting down the last glass on the table. “When did you start running in the house?”

Cliff flashed Cove a wink as he wagged the spoons he carried at his son. “Are you that famished?”

The friendly banter didn’t register with Cove at all. There was room for nothing else inside his mind but the betrayal he felt towards his father that sent his entire body quaking with rage.

It had only just begun to hit Cliff and Kyra that something was wrong when Cove took a step forward.

“You paid Jamie to be friends with me?!” Cove shouted as he glared daggers straight into his father’s widening eyes.

Cliff froze, the spoons dropping from his hands onto the table with a clatter. He looked like a helpless deer caught in the headlights of a speeding semi.

Kyra recovered from the shock first, and rounded on her ex-husband. “Clifford!” she shouted as outrage overtook her as well. “Are you serious?!”

Out of reflex, Cliff turned his wide eyes to Kyra, blinking at her rapidly. “It was only one time!”

The blurted admission left Kyra reeling back, aghast.

Cliff raised his hands up in a defensive gesture, his eyes darting between his ex-wife and his son as they both stared him down. “I-it seemed like a good idea when it happened.”

As the shock waned, Kyra brought a hand over her eyes. Her jaw was set, her patience frayed, as anger slowly gave way to disappointment.

Cliff bowed his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost shrinking in on himself before their eyes. The fact that Kyra accepted that he would do something like this so easily was the most crushing part.

For all his anger, Cove had nothing else he could say to his father after his initial outburst. He could only stand there, fuming silently during his parents’ short exchange. The tension in his body was so strong it was painful, his eyebrows furrowed hard and his eyes trembling as he continued to glare at his father.

That was all Cliff had to say for himself? That he ‘only’ did it once? That it ‘seemed like a good idea’? What part of this could be considered ‘good’ at all?!

Jamie could only watch helplessly from the sidelines at the disaster she had created. She had been afraid that Cove might be angry or hurt to hear about the deal his dad offered to her, but he took it far worse than she ever imagined. That wasn’t even going into how badly Kyra or Cliff were feeling about it all.

Jamie felt so bad for Cove. She wished for the power to rewind time to five minutes ago so that she could choose to just keep her big mouth shut. Having a stupid secret about something she didn’t even agree to hanging over her head was nothing compared to the pain that she had inflicted on her best friend and his family.

Everything was horrible, and it was all her fault.

[jacks-obsessions]

Jackie & Jotaro’s Relationship

Jackie and Jotaro hit it off almost immediately due to how much she ends up fretting over him and the others, Jotaro thinks it’s cute and it just reminds him of his mom, he actually catches himself wondering when he would start getting good luck kisses, not to mention she doesn’t hang on him and is fairly quiet too

He ends up noticing that Jackie gets over whelmed by large crowds and loud noises so he started to wrap his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him, at first Jackie would resist but in the end she gives in and lets him keep doing it, after a little bit of bickering soon enough he starts putting his hat on her head and lending her his coat, but neither say that they love the other because both were too shy too to say

By the time they defeat Dio and is said and done they separate without saying anything about their feelings for one another, so when Jackie get’s an invitation to Jotaro’s wedding her heart is crushed, Jotaro moved on, she almost doesn’t go but decides to go to support her friend, but boy does it hurt and she ends up leaving before Jotaro can get to her to say hi, Jackie disappears to Italy to continue her duties as Diavolo’s personal executioner

Jotaro tried to move on after thinking that Jackie didn’t love him back, but no matter what happened he couldn’t get rid of his love for her, he can only push the feelings down, it didn’t work very well and his wife as well as Jolyne could pick up on it too and on top of that he’s almost always absent, as a result the marriage was never a very happy one, and Jotaro and his wife get a divorce just before he goes to Morioh

While he is at Morioh he spirals into depression, he’s dealing with ptsd and the fact that he needs to stay away from his own daughter to keep her safe, so when a serial killer comes into the mix he almost breaks down and ends up calling the Speedwagon Foundation to try to get in contact with Jackie for help, when she showed up at the Morioh train station he about cried, but Jackie has been away for so long she treats Jotaro like a stranger, breaking his heart even more, so Jotaro makes it his mission to rekindle his relation ship with Jackie

Stone Ocean spoilers... I think

He is able to rebuild the friendship but it never goes any further, much to both of their disappointment, despite them both sending signals of wanting to be with the other, but in the end Jackie goes back to Italy and loses contact with Jotaro once more, until the Speedwagon Foundation contacts her and tells her that Jotaro is in a coma, she comes and stays by Jotaro’s side until Jotaro gets his memory disc back, he and Jackie then make their way to Jolyne and the others

In the fight against Pucci, Jack is heavily injured but manages to kill Pucci with her stand before passing out, while Jackie is rushed to the hospital Jolyne and her friends are taken back into custody, but with help from a certain golden haired Don their sentences are lifted, while in recovery Jackie finally tells Jotaro how she feels and Jotaro finally tells her how he feels

The two end up dating, but Jolyne is very against said relationship due to her feeling like Jotaro was replacing her mom with some total stranger to her, and unluckily for Jackie she refuses to acknowledge her, no matter how hard Jackie tries to win Jolyne’s approval she can’t, not over night at least, but with time Jolyne begins to grow fond of her after Jackie brings not only her and Jotaro on a trip to Italy to meet Giorno but her mom too, showing that Jackie had no ill will towards Jolyne’s mom, that and seeing how she makes her father happy and how Jackie is able to help Jotaro when he has panic attacks or ptsd episodes, and eventually she accepts Jackie as a good match for her father

Jolyne ends up being the one to convince Jotaro to propose to Jackie, Jotaro is overjoyed that his daughter finally accepts the love of his life, the wedding is big due to Giorno wanting to see his adoptive mother have a big day to match the importance of the situation, afterwards Jotaro and Jackie move in together and work on keeping track of known stand users and going about their daily lives

[arvandus]

Touch (pt 9) - Amity

PAIRING: Dabi x Fem!Reader

STORY WARNINGS: 18+ only please!  Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*

CHAPTER WARNINGS: talk of killing, blood, needle/medical sewing; pining... lots of resistant pining.  Typical sensory overload due to quirk use.

CHAPTER SONG: Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish

Part 1   Part 8

Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)

Part 9: Amity

Between your second night in a row of poor sleep and waking up incredibly early, it didn’t take long for exhaustion to find you again.  By mid-day your sensory overload had subsided enough that you collapsed into your bed, dreamless sleep dragging you under instantly.  It was short-lived, however; it felt like no sooner had your head hit the pillow, that a knock on your door roused you groggily from your slumber.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stood up and answered the door to see Toga standing in front of you, a bloodied washcloth held to her temple.

“Oh my god, what happened to you??” you exclaimed, as you let her into your room.

“I was out running some errands and a thug tried to jump me in an alleyway.” Toga replied cheerfully. She halted in her tracks.  “Oh… aren’t you still sick with the flu?”  She instantly covered her mouth and nose with her free hand, taking a step back.

“Huh? Oh!” you exclaimed. Right.  Crap. You forgot about that little white lie.  “Sorry, hang on a sec.”  You quickly went to your medical bag and pulled out a white disposable mask, placing it over your face.  “Is that better?” You asked, your voice muffled.

The tension in Toga’s shoulders instantly left, her posture easing as her hand dropped away from her face. “Yeah, thanks.  Are you feeling okay?  I could try to do this myself this time…”

You balked at the thought of Toga treating her own injuries.

“I’m fine right now, I promise.” You replied. 

The blonde shrugged and fully entered your space, although her folded hands in front of her body communicated she didn’t want to touch anything.

“So, a guy jumped you in an alley?” You asked.

“Yeah.  He was big, too.  And had a quirk that gave him extra reach on his arms.”  Toga explained.

You weren’t quite sure what sort of errands required Toga to be in alleyways, but you had a feeling none of them were good. The curiosity pulled at you - you could feel the question on your lips, but you swallowed it down.  When you had first joined the League, you and Shigaraki had discussed the importance of compartmentalizing your role from the others.  You were the only one out of the group who was defenseless after all, so as the weakest link within the League, you had both decided it would be best if you knew as little of the League’s affairs as possible, in case you ever got captured and questioned.  You were allowed to participate in general discussions regarding the League’s next moves and what areas were important to you that you wanted to focus on, but the nitty gritty details were kept separate: private meetings with other villains, locations, times, that sort of thing.  So, despite your curiosity, you knew not to pry.

Instead, you asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “but I can’t get this to stop bleeding.”

“Let’s take a look.” You gingerly removed the cloth from the wound to see a deep gash in the skin before new blood filled up. You placed the washcloth back over the wound before it could spill over.  “Hm. Better keep that on there.  You’re going to need stitches.”

“I figured.” She grinned. She took over holding the cloth to her head while you grabbed your medical bag.  You escorted her into your bathroom and had her sit on the toilet seat. Her outfit was speckled with blood, some of it from her wound, and, you suspected, some of it not.

“So…” you started, as you washed your hands in the sink. “What happened to the thug?”

“I drained him.” She replied cheerfully.  The casualness of her statement filled you with a confusing mixture of fear and pity.

“You killed him?” you asked, as you prepped your needle and thread.

Toga looked at you with her yellow feline-like eyes.  “He would have killed me if I didn’t.”

“Tilt your head back.” You instructed.  Toga did as you said, and you carefully removed the cloth before placing your fingers over her open wound. She winced slightly at the contact, but quickly relaxed as your quirk soaked in. 

Silence filled the room as you cleaned her wound with antiseptic and set to work.  The heavy quiet dragged on as your mind mulled over the girl next to you.  You had a thousand questions in your mind, but none of them seemed very appropriate to ask, not without upsetting her.  And despite your good standing with the League, you made it a careful point not to get on anyone’s bad side.  It wasn’t so much that you didn’t trust them, although a part of you was always wary around those who were willing to commit violence.  But you also understood on a personal level that the problems these villains had went far deeper than society was willing to acknowledge.  Mental illness, quirkology, environment… all of it played a role in dealing the hand that these outcast individuals had been dealt.

Minutes passed as you stitched up the cut and cleaned the blood from the sealed wound once more. You were washing your hands when Toga finally spoke, her voice soft.  “Are you mad at me?”

You paused to look down at her.  Her brow was furrowed, her mouth pulled into a sulky frown as she stared at her hands. She looked like a child waiting to be scolded, and in that moment, you could see how young she still was.  You gave a soft sigh.  “Of course not.  He attacked you, right? You had to defend yourself.”

You paused then followed up with, “I’m sorry you had to do it.”

“Don’t be…” she replied. “I liked killing him.”

Your hands faltered as you began putting away your supplies and Toga noticed. 

“You don’t like it, do you?” she asked, accusation lacing her voice. She was defensive, waiting for your judgement. 

You couldn’t blame her. No doubt her quirk was something she likely struggled with all of her life before finally giving in to it.  She had never given you her story directly, but it wasn’t hard to guess.  Everything about her – from her ramblings to her actions - spoke of a caged animal who finally got a taste of freedom and refused to be captured.

Contradicting feelings warred within you, and you struggled to wrangle them.  You had to admit, you hated the idea of her killing.  More importantly, you knew that her victims weren’t always street thugs, villains, or corrupted heroes.  But at the same time, despite this uncomfortable fact, you also understood how strongly quirks affected behavior, how it could act like a poison, messing with the mind and forcing its way into being expressed.  It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it; you understood it intimately.

You looked down at her and a familiar sense of pity unfurled in your gut, snaking into your veins, pulling at your emotions even as your core roiled at the idea of needless violence. She was just like him... a victim in her own way, despite the horrific things she did.

“You think I’m a monster.” Her words cut through your thoughts, and your attention refocused on her. She had her knees hugged up to her chest, her feet propped on the closed toilet lid that she occupied.  You mentally scolded yourself for abandoning her as you got lost in your head and crouched down next to her.

“No.  I don’t think you’re a monster.” You answered soothingly.

“Then why do you look scared of me?” Toga demanded. 

You gave her a smile that you hoped reached your eyes. She was more perceptive than you gave her credit for sometimes.  You had to choose your words carefully. 

“I’m not scared of you.” You explained.  “ But I am a healer, Toga. I see someone who’s hurt, and I want to take that pain away.  It’s what my quirk is. It’s a part of who I am and it’s what motivates me. So, I won’t deny that it’s hard for me sometimes to understand why you do what you do because it’s so opposite of how I am.”

Toga averted her eyes, her body tightening in on itself.

“But…” you continued as you placed a hand on her forearm, “I’m not scared of you.  And even though you do monstrous things, I don’t think you’re a monster.”

Toga slowly lowered her knees, letting her feet touch the floor as she stared at you.  “Why not?” she asked.

“Because,” you replied, “You still care about people.  You and Twice were the first to welcome and befriend me when I joined the League. And the way you take care of Twice… like he’s your big brother… that counts for something.  You even care about Dabi, even though he’s an ass. That was why you checked on him that night, right?  You treat each of us like family.  Now why would a monster do that?”

“But I still want to cut you guys all the time…” she confessed.

“I know.  But you don’t.  That should count for something.”

Toga smiled at you with teary eyes.  “You’re so nice, big sis.”  Her compliment made you smile. 

Toga hopped of the toilet with a nimble bounce, signaling the end of the conversation.  “Am I all done?”

You nodded.  “You’re free to go.” You announced.  Toga made her way to your bedroom door, but she halted when you called her name.  “Toga… don’t forget to change your clothes.”

Toga looked down at the bloodstains splattered across her school uniform.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  Thanks, big sis!”

She left your room with a jovial wave.  As soon as the door closed behind her, you slumped down onto your bed as you removed the white mask from your face and placed it on your nightstand.  Exhaustion washed over you again, deeper this time than it was before.  It wasn’t even so much due to your quirk since you didn’t have to use very much of it this time.  Instead, your mind focused on Toga, replaying the conversation.  It filled you with a swath of competing emotions; pity, anger, frustration, helplessness, fear.  The feelings swirled in you making a rank stew in your soul, old and familiar.

This was just like before.

You shoved the feelings aside, unwilling to look too closely at them. You already had enough on your plate as it was… you didn’t want to dredge up more of the past.  It would only add more stress and it wouldn’t change anything.

You laid down again in the hopes that this time, finally, your sleep would be nightmare free and uninterrupted.

 * * * * *

The withdrawal-induced restlessness Dabi felt lasted throughout the day, making sleep near impossible.  To keep himself from going crazy, he forced his energy into cleaning up his space, despite his typical disdain for chores.  He straightened up his desk, took out the trash, and most importantly, did his laundry. It was overflowing and stank of mildew, and he was in desperate need of clean towels.  His bed was no better, reeking of sweat and infection and covered in chip crumbs. But while his body appreciated the movement, the lack of mental power the activities required did little to distract from intrusive, obsessive thoughts.

He wasn’t sure which thoughts he wanted to avoid more - thoughts of his family or thoughts of you.  The memories of family were old and familiar, but the emotions in them were raw, threatening to suck him in and shred him to pieces like it’d already done so many times before.  But thoughts of you weren’t much better, at least not to Dabi. He didn’t like the warmth he felt each time he thought of you, and yet he kept going back to that feeling, like opening the fridge to stare at that last piece of cake.  He was at war with himself, and he didn’t know how to fight it.

Somehow, with all of his coming and going from his room, he somehow managed to never run into you. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not, but like all other uncomfortable thoughts, his forced himself not to focus on it.  It shouldn’t be important.  You shouldn’t be important.  His mouth pressed into a thin line.  The number of times he had to tell himself that were becoming too many to count, and it never did seem to make much difference.  

The cleaning only occupied him for so long.  Towards the end of it he found himself sitting in his room, waiting for his clothes to finish drying so he could retrieve them.  He had laid back on his bed just for a moment, to stare at his phone. He woke up an hour and a half later, his mind muddled with jumbled dreams and memories.  Cigarette smoke, a child’s laughter, the sound of himself screaming in agony…

He shook his head to knock the unwanted fog from his brain and grabbed a smoke to soothe the shaking in his hands.  The cigarette was gone within a minute.  The haze still lingered though as every inch of Dabi’s nerves hummed and his gut clenched in discomfort.  So, he inhaled a second cigarette for good measure and followed it up with an electrolyte drink paired with a couple of antacids.  His laundry was likely done now; no point in letting it sit there and risk another League member touching his things.

With the laundry dry and sitting on his bed in a crumpled heap, he stared at the contents, a frown on his face.  Your towels were mingled with his, and the sight of it filled him with an uneasiness that had little to do with his withdrawal.  It looked entirely alien to him, intrusive in his personal space.  His stomach gave a weird flutter before giving way to a wave of nausea.

Stupid, he thought to himself.  They’re just fucking towels.

He began folding the first towel. It was half-assed in its effort and one hundred percent intentional, as if giving careful care to your items would give away something about himself he wanted to keep secret.  But even as he did so, intrusive curiosity crept into his mind.  How did you fold your towels?

Idiot.  He caught his wandering mind and reeled it back in forcefully, but it did little good. His mind was a master escape artist, running away to explore other unwanted thoughts without his permission as soon as his mental back was turned.

As he folded your items, his hands slowed slightly in their actions, taking in the feel of cotton on his fingers. He watched as he rolled the soft material between his thumb and forefinger while memories bubbled forth, broken and vague.  Waking up in the shower, sitting on the toilet with your towel over his head, feeling of your hands working the cotton over his wet hair. He tried not to think of your face, but of course not wanting it made it appear in his mind.  He remembered your eyes, the concern in them, and the memory filled him with a warmth that he was still struggling to understand, even as he tried to deny its presence. 

It was short-lived – the memory of your tender gaze soon faded away to a terrified one, and now he was remembering your scar.  A new thought came into his mind then, dark and plaguing. The look of fear you’d given him that night - did you wear that same frightened expression on your face when you were burned, marked by whatever asshole laid their hands on you?

Dabi could feel his body temperature begin to rise.

The last towel was folded, and he swiftly grabbed the pile and shoved it on top of his dresser as if were contaminated.  Contaminated with memories, contaminated with you…

He faltered for a moment, his anger disrupted by that strange sense of guilt that gnawed at him.  The unwelcome mental picture of you cowering in fear as flames licked your skin danced in his imagination.  No wonder you had been so utterly terrified of him that night. No wonder you’d been unable to look him in the eyes the next day…

Dabi caught himself staring at your things and forced himself to turn around to finish his laundry. He folded his clothes swiftly, not caring whether or not they were done nicely before shoving them into the dresser drawer. Then, with his clean towels in his arm, he went into the bathroom to give himself that much-needed shower.

 * * * * *

You woke up feeling groggier than usual as the orange-red glow of the late afternoon haze filtered into your room. As predicted, your sleep was restless and riddled with hazy uncomfortable dreams that instantly began to fade away as soon as you opened your eyes.  You sighed in annoyance as dissatisfaction slinked across your tired skin. It was as if you had slept the entire time with your body tensed, ready to run at a moment’s notice, and now you were feeling the effects. 

You got out of bed with a stretch to ease the stiffness in your muscles.  Maybe something to eat and drink could lift your spirits and wake your body up.  You slipped on your shoes and opened the door before remembering to grab your mask off of your nightstand.  Then, you left your room to trudge downstairs.

The smell of pizza greeted you as soon as you stepped out onto the main floor, and your stomach growled in response, your mouth watering.

“Y/N!” Toga cheered. “Did you take a nap?”

You frowned as your hand self-consciously went to your messy hair. Was it really that obvious?

“Yeah, I was pretty tired.” You confessed, as you tried to fix your stray strands.

“Are you feeling any better?” Magne asked.  You could tell she was asking about the ‘flu’ you were supposed to have.

You shrugged. “Yeah, a little…”

“And how about Dabi? You were treating him too, right?” Magne continued.

You felt embarrassment bubble in you, and you scratched at your cheek as a distraction.  “He’s doing okay… I think it’s hitting him harder, though. He’s probably going to need some more time to recover.”

“He came down here yesterday without a mask and everything.” Spinner grumbled. “Then decided to take a stroll.  He couldn’t be that bad, could he?”

You shrugged. “Stomach bugs are weird and vary from person to person.”

Shigaraki’s voice surprised you from behind.  “How’s his burn?”

He knew about that…?  Maybe Dabi said something the day before.  Either way, no point in lying about it now…

“It’s doing well... but it’s not completely healed yet.”

Shigaraki grunted and grabbed a slice of pizza from the open box sitting on the bar.

“Hey, Y/N!  You want some pizza?” Twice offered.

“Yes, that’d be-“

“She can’t eat pizza when she has the flu!” Toga scolded.  “She might throw it up.  She needs something simple!”

Your heart sank.  No pizza??

“No, it’s okay…” you started, your eyes staring at the perfect slice.

“I’ll go make you something, okay big sis?” Toga chirped as she bounded lightly towards the small kitchen behind the bar.

Oh… oh no….

“Oh, um… it’s okay Toga, I’m not really hungry…” you tried to call after her, but she was already gone and out of earshot.

You fiddled with your hands nervously.  Cooking was not one of Toga’s strong suits.  Fortunately, Kurogiri was present, watching the exchange.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t burn down the kitchen.” He commented, as he followed after her.

You stood there awkwardly, strongly contemplating grabbing the entire pizza box and running away with it. But you’d just had that personal exchange with Toga earlier, so abandoning her when she was trying to do something nice for you probably wouldn’t go over well.

Damn it.  You were too nice for your own good sometimes.

On defeated feet, you walked over to the couch and sat down next to Compress who was reading a book. He put the item down as you sat next to him and gave you a smile.  “How nice of you to grace me with your company, little flower.”

You crossed your arms and sulked into the couch cushions, wishing they would swallow you up.  “Toga is cooking for me.”

“Oh dear, so I heard.” He commented.  “However, Kurogiri is supervising her.  Perhaps this time it won’t be so bad.”

“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” You pointed out.

“True,” he laughed. “But perhaps you set your standards too high.  I never said he’d ensure that the food is good; however, his assistance may ensure that it is edible.”

“Don’t you use logic on me, Mr.” you replied, even as you tried to suppress a smile.

“Then perhaps a magic trick then?” he offered.  “As a distraction.”

“Sure.” You grinned.

A few minutes later, Toga came out with two steaming bowls sitting on a rectangular tray.

“Oh good! You’re still here!” Toga smiled.  “I made you soup!”

You stifled a groan as you stood up and stared at the contents.  It… didn’t look bad…. It looked like it was canned soup at least, which, all things considered, were one of the simplest things to make. Still, it had that a slight burned odor to it when the steam reached your nose.

“Why are there two bowls?” you asked.

“Oh!  One’s for you and one’s for Dabi.”  Toga explained.  Behind her, Magne chuckled at the table.  “He hasn’t come down to eat yet today so he’s probably hungry.”

“It was my suggestion.” Kurogiri stated.  “You are still sick after all, so it would be in the League’s interest if you and Dabi had your meals in your rooms until you are no longer contagious.”

“Maybe it can be like a little dinner date!” Toga added.

You fought the flush of hot heat that seemed to take over your insides.  “A what?”

The last thing you needed was the League thinking you and Dabi were dating.

The blonde girl giggled as she handed you the tray.  Her hands instantly went up to her hot cheeks, her eyes glazed over with infatuation. “What I wouldn’t give to have a private dinner date with Izuku!”

“Oh geez, not this again…” Spinner grumbled.

“Hey!” Toga shot at him.  “It’s rude to tease a girl in love!”

You were grateful that Toga was easily distracted, and you took the opportunity to make your escape. “O-Okay. I guess I’ll go take this upstairs then… Thank you, Toga.” You mumbled.

You walked out of the room quickly, the soup sloshing in the bowls and threatening to spill.  But you wanted to get out of there before things got even more awkward.  Toga wasn’t even the real concern – the real concern was Magne.  Her chuckle had not gone unnoticed by you, and she was a master conversationalist when she wanted to be.  The last thing you needed was more intrusive questions or implied statements, especially with everyone there to listen in.

You took the stairs instead of the elevator, not trusting the old rust bucket to run smooth enough with bowls of hot soup in front of you.

Dinner date.  You wanted to laugh.  Dabi certainly wasn’t the type to do dinner dates.  In fact, Dabi probably didn’t even date. He probably just hooked up with random girls whenever he felt like it.

Your stomach tightened into an uncomfortable knot.

It didn’t matter.  You weren’t his type anyway.  And he shouldn’t be yours, not with all of his baggage. And boy, did he seem to have a lot of baggage.  Besides, he didn’t need the pressure of someone pining over him while he struggled to keep himself together.  He needed someone he could trust.  He needed a friend.

You felt yourself start to calm as you centered yourself on that single fact.  He needed a friend. You could do that.  You’d already committed yourself to it.

You made it to your own room and set the tray on the floor outside your door so you could go in and grab your medical bag.  If you were going to take soup to Dabi, then you might as well treat his wounds and give him his pills.  It was about time for it anyway.  With your bag slung onto your shoulder and the tray once again in your hand, you went over to his door and knocked.

It opened and you froze, eyes wide, as a warm humid air wrapped you up in the scent of shampoo and body wash.

Dabi stood before you in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination.  Shit. It hadn’t even been a full five seconds and you were already staring at his crotch.  Hot embarrassment flooded you as you averted your eyes, only to get stuck on his glistening, bare form.  You’d seen him shirtless many times, had your hands on his body, even… but something about this moment was different.  Maybe it was the shower.  Maybe it was the simple - yet absolutely sinful - sweatpants.  Or maybe it was how he seemed to be carrying himself in this moment, like he was the king of his domain.  He was a living art piece, every angle of him stunning from the slope of his shoulders to the cut of his lean waist. Even his stitches looked beautiful, the light bouncing off of them like gems.  Whatever it was, Dabi seemed to be a thousand times hotter than you remember him being, and it left your brain feeling dumb as hot desire washed over you.

You were staring.  You knew you were staring but you couldn’t break the trance he seemed to put you in. Your eyes took in the cut of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips.   Aqua blue eyes stared at you in knowing amusement, grabbing you like the tide and pulling you in.  You could feel yourself floundering beneath his intense gaze as you struggled to get a hold of yourself.

“Uh…” you stuttered.

You were still staring.

“Hey, Doll­…” He greeted, a playful grin on his lips.  His voice washed over you, and you felt lightheaded.

This was so embarrassing.  If he had any doubts that you found him attractive before, then he certainly didn’t now.

“Hi.” You said dumbly.

His eyes broke contact with yours to look down.  “Hey-” His hand shot out to quickly grab the tilting tray, soup splashing messily over the sides of the bowls.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry.” You cursed, as you adjusted your hold. You kept your eyes down, unable to stare at him any longer.  “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” 

Was that a chuckle you heard in his voice?  How dare he.

You crossed the threshold, only to find yourself even more smothered by the clean scent of his recent shower that permeated the entire space like a fog.  Beneath it, the faint hint of cigarette smoke was present, but it was muted.  The light in the room was dimmer than you remembered and you realized why – he had put one of his shirts over his shoddy lamp, reducing its brightness.  The humid warmth in the room was paired with a strange heavy silence.  Your eyes instantly checked his window and there was no billow of the curtains this time, no street noise coming forth.  Your breath froze in your throat for a moment as you realized – he remembered.  All the things that had bothered you this morning were modified for your arrival.  A weightlessness swelled in your chest, intertwining with the attraction you were still grappling with.  You set the tray down with shaky hands before wiping your sweaty palms onto your pants.

Dabi came to stand next to you with his towel on his shoulder, the warm bare skin of his chest brushing against your arm as he stared down at the bowls.  With his proximity so close and your own emotions running amok, it took every ounce of mental fortitude not to hug him right then and there.

“Did you make that?” he asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Oh, uh.. Toga did.” You finally said, as you moved slightly away from his bare skin.

“We should have let the tray fall.”  He stated as he stared at the contents with distaste.  You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, and it helped clear some of the brain fog.  He gave you a soft glare.  “Why did you even take this?  You should have just said no.”

“Well, not all of us can be as nice as you, Dabi.” You teased.  “Besides, she wanted to do something nice for us because she thinks we’re sick.”  You explained.

“If I eat that I probably will be.” He retorted.

“Oh, come on… it’s probably not that bad… just a little smokiness to it.  That shouldn’t bother you, right?” You put a spoon into a bowl and handed it to him.

He gave you a deadpan look as you held the bowl against his chest, his hands refusing to take it. “I’m not eating it.”

“Hey, if I have to eat this, then so do you.” You glared.

“Like hell.” He replied. “Besides, I already have food here.”

You set the bowl down and stared at the bags on his desk.  “Yes, chips, beef jerky, and cigarettes!  So healthy.”

“The three basic food groups.” He agreed with a grin. He sat down in his desk chair, his legs spread wide as he slouched back.  It took extra effort to not let your eyes wander.  “Tell ya what, doll… you try it first.  If you don’t throw up or die, then maybe I’ll consider eating mine.”

You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your bowl.  “Fine, you big baby.” 

You filled your spoon and raised it to him in a mock toast before placing it into your mouth.  He watched the motion in silent amusement, his eyes focused on your lips as they closed around the spoon.

It was awful.  Definitely burnt.  And the parts that weren’t burnt were overcooked, making the textures all wrong in your mouth.  You swallowed forcefully, suppressing a gag.

“Mmm… You look like you enjoyed that.”  Dabi teased.

“Hey at least I’ve actually tried it.” You shot back.  “So, I guess that means only one of us is a little bitch.” 

Dabi’s eyes widened, the light in them dancing in amusement, as a grin spread across his face. “You kiss your mother with that mouth, doll?  You’ve been with the League too long.”

You pointed your spoon at him.  “Don’t try to act like you know me.  And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not dead.  So eat up.”  You picked up his bowl again and held it under his nose. By this point, you knew the soup wasn’t really that edible, but now you were determined to have him suffer with you.

The smell wafted up and he wrinkled his nose.  He pushed the bowl away back towards you.  “I don’t think so.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.  “You said you’d try it if I did.”

“I said I’d consider it.”  He replied. “It’s been considered and denied.”

“You’re an ass.” You pouted. “It really is awful though…” you confessed.  “and she had Kurogiri with her, too.  Like… how?”

“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” Dabi replied.

You laughed.  “That’s what I told Compress!”

Your conversation was interrupted by a loud, hungry rumble in your gut.

A low chuckle rumbled from Dabi’s chest that made your heart pound and your flesh feel warm.  “C’mon doll, don’t torture yourself.” He said. “Why don’t we just go get a bite to eat. There’s nothing keeping us locked up in here.”

Toga’s words echoed in your head.  Dinner date.  Oh geez, if she or Magne saw you two leaving the premises together, you’d never hear the end of it.  The offer was tempting though, and you were pretty sure Dabi was starting to get tired of his snacks.  Junk food could only satisfy for so long; at some point he needed a proper meal.

But something nagged at you as you stared at the man in front of you.  He seemed to be doing okay at first glance… his recent shower certainly seemed to lift his spirits.  But you had been too distracted by his attractiveness earlier that you hadn’t taken the time to really assess him.  Now, you could see the exhaustion still in his face, could see the small wiggle of his leg and the drumming of his fingers on the table.   You checked the time on your phone – no doubt your quirk and the pills were beginning to wear off.  But how far along that was, you couldn’t really say; it was hard to tell with Dabi; he didn’t show his pain very easily.

You knew your appetite would disappear once you pushed yourself into sensory overload.  But Dabi couldn’t wait, even if he might try to play it off that he could.  More importantly, you didn’t want to try to deal with a withdrawal-suffering Dabi out in public. Your heart sank slightly. Goodbye delicious dinner, for the second time that night.

“…I should probably treat you first.” Your eyes landed on his bag of goods as your stomach rumbled again. “But maybe a snack would be good.” You confessed.  You felt embarrassed for asking, especially after the big show you’d just point on… but pride had to take a back seat before your stomach ate itself.

His blue eyes stared at you for a long moment.  You could feel your skin start to prickle under the weight of them.

“Sure, doll.”  He finally said.  He rummaged through one of the bags until he found what he was looking for under a bag of spicy chips.  “Is this your style?”

He tossed you a prepackaged muffin about the size of a softball.  You couldn’t fight the smile that blossomed across your face.  “Yeah, thanks.”  You opened up the wrapping and began breaking off pieces of it.  “You want some?” you offered, holding the muffin towards him.

He shook his head. “Nah.  Don’t feel much like eating.”

You broke off half of the muffin for him anyway.  “I still need to give you your pills, so you should eat something first.  Besides, this is too big for me to finish by myself anyway.” 

Was it a lie?  Of course. You were starving.  Did Dabi know that you were lying?  Of course.  But he took the other half of the muffin anyway.  You sat on the edge of his bed while he sat in his chair as the two of you ate together in silence for a moment. As you ate, your eyes wandered around his room.

That was when you noticed it.

 “Are those my towels?” you asked. 

Dabi looked over at his dresser as he stuffed the last of the muffin into his mouth.  “Yeah.  They’re clean now.”

“Thank you…” you replied. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details.  “You cleaned up…”

Dabi shrugged. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a complete slob.”

You stared at him as he began fidgeting with a pack of cigarettes, tapping the box on the table, flipping it over, and tapping the other end.  Over and over it somersaulted, and you wondered if he was craving one right now.  Why didn’t he just take one out and light it up?

Was Dabi… being considerate?

Then again, the action didn’t come as much of a surprise to you as it might have before.  He’d been more willing to do small acts of kindness ever since the night of his withdrawal.  Bringing ramen.  Adjusting his room for your sensory overload.

Now this.

Was it fueled by guilt? Or did he actually care?

He looked like he was waiting for something.  You watched as he rubbed at his scarred arm with his free hand, irritation flashing across his eyes.  Of course. He was waiting for you and your quirk. You ate your muffin faster.  As soon as it had disappeared into your mouth, you reached for your bag and took out the pill bottle.  His eyes were on it instantly, the shaking in his leg stilled by the sight of it, his shoulders releasing some of their tension.

“Here.” You offered, handing him his pills.  He took them and swallowed them dry before opening up a beverage and taking a swig.

Dabi eyed the bottle in your hand as you closed it.  “That’s looking awfully low there, isn’t it?”

You put the container back in your bag, enclosing it in a zippered space.  “It’ll be enough to last us through tomorrow morning.”

“That’s cutting it real close, don’tcha think?” he replied.

You looked up to see his brow furrowed in concern and offered him a reassuring smile.  “It is.  But I’ll be picking up the refills tomorrow before our evening session, so there’s nothing to worry about.  Now let’s take a look at your back real quick.”

He stood up and dragged his chair over to where you sat and straddled the seat with his back facing you. The bandage was still on, but you could tell it had gotten wet in the shower.  You’d have to be careful when changing it this time, since the bits of skin that were starting to heal might reopen.

You applied your quirk first around the bandages, then began to delicately remove the wet gauze and tape. Your fingers were cold on Dabi’s skin and a small shiver ran up his spine at the sensation of your touch.  The wound didn’t show any signs of infection or fresh damage, so you continued business as usual, applying the antiseptic followed by fresh gauze.  As you patched him up, your eyes kept drifting to your towels, thinking about what had happened that night.  There was something important you’d been meaning to ask him.  Something you had to know.

“I… have a question.” You ventured.

“Hm?” Dabi responded, his head turning slightly to the sound of your voice.

“The next day… after I helped you out that one night… was there anything… off?  About you specifically?” you asked.

There was a long pause and you could tell Dabi was thinking heavily, which only made the dread in your gut sink in deeper.

“I couldn’t feel anything.” He finally admitted. 

“I’m not talking about the pain.  I’m talking about… I don’t know.  Anything else.”

“I know.” He replied. “When I woke up, I couldn’t feel anything.”

Your brow furrowed and the dread hardened into a stone.  “…what does that mean?”

“It means I didn’t care about a thing, doll.  Everything was turned off.” He was facing away from you and in that moment, you wished he wasn’t – you desperately wanted to see the expression on his face.  Your hands felt clammy as you processed his words.

“You mean your emotions?” you clarified.  You needed to understand more.  You needed to know how bad it was.  “What… did it feel like?”

“Empty.”

You finished putting the last bandage on him but you barely noticed as your vision became unfocused, your thoughts whirling.  Holy shit. You had turned off his emotions?  You supposed in hindsight it made sense, since it was likely his memories and the emotions attached to them that were torturing him that night.  Why else would he have been blabbering incoherent apologies as if he were desperately trying to atone for something? But still… the severity of that made your blood run cold. Emotions were everything, contrary to what some people might think. They fuel how people think, how they act, how they react… entire personalities – entire identities are built around how emotions are felt and how they are dealt with.  You very well could have entirely erased Dabi as a person. In fact, you likely did, at least temporarily.

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and tried to calm your panicked breathing.  “…How long did it last?”

He was quiet again, and the silence was worse than anything.

“Please tell me.” You begged.  “How long?”

“Hours.”

Your heart was racing and your ears ringing.  Your eyes began to sting but you fought it, focusing on a patch of scarred flesh on his back to distract yourself, memorizing its pattern.  You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again.  And certainly not twice in one day.  You wanted to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, but you couldn’t make the words come out, not without your emotions spilling out with them.  Instead, you forced yourself into action, treating his scars with your quirk. 

There was so much more you wanted to know. How did he get his emotions back?  What did it feel like? Was it slow, or at all at once? Did he feel relieved?

Did it hurt?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask those questions, no matter how badly you wanted to know, no matter how badly you wanted to understand.  They were too personal, and you could already tell by Dabi’s growing reluctance that he didn’t want to talk about it any further.

You’d apologize to him. At some point, once your emotions were under control, you’d apologize.

You finished numbing his back and shoulders, even tracing down his triceps a little.  “Turn around,” you instructed.

He did as you asked, adjusting himself in the chair so he was now facing you.  You avoided looking at him, the shame and guilt far too heavy for you to lift your eyes.  Unbeknownst to you, a frown pulled at his brow, his lips.  You wore your emotions so plainly…

You took his hand in yours and continued your quirk as your skin began to prickle and sting. The sound of the shower dripping in the bathroom was louder now. Dabi shifted slightly in his chair and the scraping sound against the floor was like nails on a chalkboard.  The odors in the room went from pleasant to offensive.

“I gotta question for ya,” Dabi suddenly ventured.  “Did you change my clothes that night?”

Your hands faltered and you glanced up at his face before you could catch yourself.  His eyes had a glint in them you couldn’t quite place in your distracted mental state.  You felt embarrassment creep across your skin.

“I did.  I had to get you into the shower before you combusted.” You replied as you continued to treat him, your hands on his collarbone. The feel of it was so familiar now…

“I was naked?”

“Only for a moment!” you replied.  “You were in your boxers for most of it, but I had to change you out of those after the shower.” God, this entire conversation was so embarrassing… why did he have to ask about this of all things?

“…did ya peek?” he asked.

Your mouth struggled like a fish out of water for a moment as you glared at him.  “NO!” You finally exclaimed.  “Of course, I didn’t!  Why would you even…”  but then you saw the grin on his face and you realized he was teasing you. 

You playfully punched his arm.  “You’re an asshole.” You fumed.

He laughed.  “That didn’t even hurt.” He mocked.

“Of course it didn’t, idiot. I already used my quirk there.” You shot back.  “Now stay still so I can get your damn face.”

“So feisty…” he murmured.

Shit.  With your senses heightened, you could almost feel the vibration in his voice, as if he were closer to you than he actually was. For the briefest moment, it distracted you from the growing pain of your scar, from the sound of the drip drip from the bathroom shower.  You wondered what it would feel like to have those words uttered against your skin, his hot breath warming your flesh, the feel of his rough lower lip brushing…

You clenched your jaw until you nearly gave yourself a headache, forcing the intrusive thoughts out of your mind.  You weren’t here for this.  You were here to treat him and get out of his space.  You weren’t his type.  You repeated it to yourself like a mantra, a prayer, a reminder to the illogical part of you that wanted to follow the lure of his voice.  Why did he have to be such a flirt?  It didn’t surprise you, but it certainly left you feeling confused when his actions and words sometimes contradicted themselves.

All it meant was that he was getting comfortable with you again. He was treating you like a friend, and friends teased all the time.  Right?

His eyes watched you closely as your hands caressed his jaw, relieving the ache there.  You seemed lost in your thoughts and while you certainly didn’t look comfortable, you also didn’t look too be too horribly in pain. You were doing better today.  Still, your fingers danced quickly across his skin, skating under his eyes which he instinctively closed, and barely touching his lower lip.  It happened far too quickly before the presence of you disappeared, and it left him feeling empty.  How badly he wanted to grab your hands right then and put them back onto his face. 

When he opened his eyes again, your own eyes were downcast as you stretched your fingers slightly.

“You okay?” he ventured. The question sounded odd coming from him, even to his own ears.

You looked up at him then, and you could see he was concerned. That’s right… he knew about your quirk and your scar now.  You clasped your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.  Shaking from the pain you were feeling, shaking from the fear of your own thoughts and desires.

“I’m fine.” You lied. Did he know you were lying with this too?

He knew.  In fact, you’d given him the same false words he always gave you.  It was like looking into a mirror.

“You don’t gotta do the legs.” He offered.  “I’m not dressed for it anyway.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You chided.  “Of course I’m going to do your legs.  The better I treat you, the better you can rest.  And your body needs rest to heal your burn.”

He noticed that you made no comment on his withdrawal, which a part of him appreciated; it helped him avoid the discomfort of shame that was always associated with it. Still…

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere, doll.  I won’t be needing them.  Besides, the drugs help.” He replied.

You eyed him for a moment, assessing.  “How about I just do your calves then?” you bartered.

He assessed you in return before he gave a small half-smirk.  “Deal.”

By the time you’d treated his calves down to the tops of his feet, you were definitely grateful you didn’t have to do any more.

PING……..PING……

You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, feeling the onset of a headache as you skirted just shy of overload. You closed your eyes, hoping maybe the lack of visual stimulation might make the auditory more bearable.  Or at least bearable enough that you could actually move your body instead of feeling frozen.  But it only made it worse, allowing your brain to hyperfixate on it. You covered your ears against it as you struggled to find your way out of it, to regain control of yourself.

While you lost yourself in your senses, Dabi watched you in displeasure.  He’d made sure to have everything ready before you showed up.  He even made sure not to light up a cigarette, as much as that had grated on him, since he knew the smell would linger long after. But clearly, something was bothering you.  What had he missed?

He watched, waiting, giving you time to figure yourself out or ask for help while he secretly tried to decode the mystery.  Your eyes were closed, your hands over your ears.  Was it multiple sensory attacks?  You flinched again.  And again. There was a rhythm.  So, it was something you were hearing.

Curiously, Dabi closed his own eyes listening for anything that stood out.  Slowly, the quiet sound of water dripping greeted his ears like a whisper.  He opened his eyes just in time to see your flinch match with the sound.

That was it.

“It’s the shower.” He commented. 

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement.  You opened your eyes and looked at him with surprise before giving a nod, your hands still over your ears.  He knew his shower leaked for a bit after he used it, but he’d gotten so used to it that he just tuned out the sound by this point.  But for you… especially after using your quirk on him…

Why didn’t you just get up and leave?  Why stay here if it was bothering you this much?  Obviously, you wanted to get away from it…

Maybe you couldn’t.  Maybe, for some reason, you were stuck in what you were experiencing, unable to find your way out.

Dabi could relate to that.

And he didn’t like it.

He stood up and closed the bathroom door before returning to sit in the chair in front of you, waiting.

You could still hear it. But it was manageable now, muffled. Quieter.  You could feel yourself start to process the rest of what you were feeling.  The pain on your back; the feel of your clothes, your hair; the smell of Dabi’s body wash, fresh linen… cigarettes.  Slowly, your hands lowered from your ears as you focused on each sense, identifying all you recognized.  The world was still loud around you, but at least you could somewhat function again. Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him watching you through an unreadable expression.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much.” You replied. “Thank you.  Again.”

“It’s fine.”

A heavy, awkward quiet filled the space, and in that moment, despite Dabi’s kindness, all you wanted was to be back safely in your room.  Maybe it was because you were feeling overwhelmed by your own emotions, unable to properly control how your heart pounded around him, or how you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at you, his expression unreadable yet his gaze intense, as if you were all that he was focused on and he was determined to discover all of your secrets.

Either way, you felt an ache grow within you, threatening to drown you. But you couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t dismantle it or bury it, not while your brain fought the senses overwhelming you. You could handle one or the other… but you couldn’t handle both.

You needed the comfort of your room; you needed your safe space.

“I’m… going to go lay down.” You said quietly, as you grabbed your bag.  It felt heavy in your hand.

If Dabi noticed the shift in your mood, he didn’t say so.  Instead, he stood from his seat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Yeah.  Me too.” He replied.

Despite the suddenly aloof atmosphere, he still walked you to his door.  After you left, he leaned his back against the cold wood and ran his hand down his face.

So much for not caring…

________________________________________________

Part 10 ________________________________________________

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[knightsarmor]

@moiraxlibs

It was dark, but the sky was lit up by the stars, glittering on a surprisingly clear night. Despite it being just after two in the morning, Oliver was still awake as was fairly typical for him. He sat just at the end of the dock, feet dangling above the water. He had a drink in his hand and tilted his head back as he looked up at the sky. 

He reached out a hand, tracing the Big Dipper with his finger, connecting the stars, before his line of sight moved to find the North Star. He breathed deeply, the humid air filling his lungs with moisture. 

“’M sure you’re aware,” he started speaking softly, “‘M engaged now.” He might have been drinking since midnight now. His grief, for whatever reason, had hit him particularly hard tonight. It happened so seldomly nowadays. But sometimes, much like waves in the ocean, which could be calm on most occasions, he would be hit by a particularly swift and powerful wave, knocking him over, nearly drowning him. Today was one of those days he felt like he was being dragged. “She s’real great. I honestly didn’t think I’d fall in love again.” It might have taken him sixteen years to get there, but he had. 

When Ana had died, Oliver had spent nights afterward speaking to her, working through his grief, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. As the years had gone on, he spoke to her less and less, possibly because he had been dealing with his grief, the periods when he felt like this becoming less and less frequent, more time in between each phase.

“And I guess, I just want to make sure I can move on.” Oliver wasn’t sure if it was survivor’s guilt or something else that had compelled him to feel like he needed to ask permission. He was perfectly aware that he knew Ana, being the person she had been would have wanted only for Oliver to be happy and to move on. She would have hated the idea of him being stuck on her for so long, despite that being exactly what had happened. “If you can show me anything, just so I know it s’okay, because ’m really happy with her,” he said. 

Oliver looked up, as if looking for a sign, anything that might indicate that he was going to be okay moving forward, that he was allowed to move forward. For years, Oliver thought maybe he had been standing in the way of his own happiness. Ben had always told him so, that Oliver thought he might not deserve to move forward and to live his life without Ana by his side. Oliver supposed on some level that was true. After all, how was it fair that she had been the one to fall ill while he lived and moved on? Especially as Oliver had been on a somewhat self destructive spiral in the years immediately following her death, on a mission to almost keep himself from being happy, drinking excessively and keeping any other relationships from forming, punishing himself. 

However, Oliver had eventually been able to get himself under control, able to secure a job, trying to find reasons to keep moving forward, Ben and Shauna there to help him through it, even as they had kids and their family to raise. He supposed that had been part of the reason he had pulled himself together, to prevent the last few people in his life from being gone forever. 

“I need to move on, really,” Oliver went on as he looked down. “I always thought I had, but I think I never really had, not until Moira came.” Not until Moira was all he could think about, not until Moira was the only person he wanted to be with and marry. And even as he thought about that, he felt guilty for it, like he might have been betraying Ana, like he was meant to be alone forever because she was meant to be it, but Oliver knew that life was more complex than that. Oliver also felt that maybe, just maybe, despite all that he had gone through, for the first time he did deserve to be happy.

In a blink of an eye, it was raining. It didn’t even start off as a soft drizzle, and instead there was a heavy downpour, the stars suddenly hidden away by the clouds. But as he was soaked by the rain, Oliver suddenly felt free. He looked up at the sky, the moon still partially visible through some space in the clouds and Oliver laughed

“Thank you.”

[writing-gifts]

Finding Home (merman!Elliott x gn!reader)

A/N: Me and a friend, @hideyoosh, worked on this stardew valley reader insert fic together. There should be more chapters in the future hopefully. 

-------

The tree branches sway as the fallen leaves are carried in the gentle wind.

Today was a perfect day for fishing. You had been so caught up in tending to your autumn crops that you hadn't taken the time to focus on your hobbies. It wasn’t like you didn't enjoy farming though, it was just nice to take a break every once in a while.

Unfortunately, the lake in the forest south of your farm seemed to be quiet today. Nothing was biting, even with the bait you had hooked on. This was extremely peculiar since every time you came here multiple fish would bite throughout the day. You'd even throw some back. But now it was well into the afternoon and you hadn't caught a single thing.

You sigh and lean back in your seat you placed on the dock. Good thing you brought one with you.

While you contemplate whether you should call it day or not, your rod jerks forward. You finally had hooked something!

You scramble to try to reel it in hoping, praying, that it wasn't trash that got caught. However you cross that off quickly. Whatever you had at the end of the line was fighting back hard.

You put up your best fight, set on making this fish yours and it seems like neither of you will let up. But then your line suddenly snaps.

The release of tension sends you and your chair falling backwards. Your mouth gawks at the destroyed line on your iridium fishing rod. This wasn’t any cheap rod either. In fact, it was brand new!

What could have been strong enough to do this?

You pout at the loss of an incredible catch and your line that you would now have to fix.

"Dammit…"

Suddenly, you hear splashing from the lake and look up to see a man in the water not too far away from you. You had never seen this man in town before so you're immediately alarmed.

How long had he even been in the water?

"I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" he called out.

Your mouth hangs open and you’re at a loss for words.

The man had long ginger hair, and deep green eyes. Along with his defined cheekbones and sharp jawline, he might as well be physically flawless. Part of you couldn't believe he was even human.

He holds out your hook, the broken off piece of your line hanging from it, and begins making his way closer to the dock.

"I apologize for breaking it, but I couldn't get it out otherwise so…."

You finally manage to somewhat collect yourself back onto your chair and try to make sense of what was happening. Surely you would have noticed someone out in the lake before you cast out your line, so how did he get hooked?

He stares at you, and you stare right back. His gaze was warm and honest, almost naive.

Breaking the momentary silence, you utter a very eloquent, "What?"

"This hook. I believe it belongs to you seeing as we’re the only ones here. Thought I would return it since my arm has no better use for it."

You give a breathy laugh and reach for the outstretched hook. “Yeah I suppose you’ve got a good point there. Thanks.”

You take the hook from his hand, your fingers just brushing up against his. The small bit of contact has your face heating up unexpectedly and you look away.

What's wrong with you?Just an ounce of human contact and you're on fire! Touch starved much?

The other equally reasonable part of you argues otherwise though.

The man is a living, breathing deity of grace and beauty! Anyone with eyes can argue that. How am I still conscious?

And somehow you agree with both.

Once you take the hook, you notice the blood on his left arm.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hook you. I’d be a sorry excuse for a fisherman if I could only fish men."

He offers a short laugh and replies, "That's quite alright. You were just trying to catch a meal.”

Oh, I caught a meal alright...

“I assure you it appears much more garish than it actually is." He pokes around the wound to demonstrate no reaction. “See?”

"Please, it's my fault you’re hurt so I can at least help you clean the wound. My farm’s not too far, I’ll grab a first aid kit and be back.”

You get up from your chair quickly and give him no time to argue. If you were fast enough you could be back within an hour, so you half-sprint the trip back to your farm.

As you look through your medicine cabinet for anything else you might need, you remember the times you hurt yourself with fishing hooks. Sure, they can be annoying to deal with, but that’s really all. You can't really say much for experiencing getting hooked and reeled though.

Catching yourself zoning out, you quickly gather what you need before heading to the dock once more.

You run down the old wooden planks to your chair and pole, but you don’t find the injured stranger there with them.

Confused, you look around in the distance to see if he got out of the water somewhere. As soon as you turn to look behind yourself, you feel something grip your ankle. You shriek and frantically try to kick it off.

“WHAT THE F-”

"Shh! Please don’t scream! It’s me!"

Your ankle is released and you fall backwards onto the dock. Again. You scoot closer to the edge and meet an apologetic gaze. The man was still in the water after all. You give a sigh of utter relief.

“I’m so glad it’s you and not a murderous mythical fish monster...Where did you go?”

“I was diving a bit while you were gone. I’m sorry. It was ill mannered of me to grab you so suddenly,” he said earnestly.

Part of you wonders why he didn't just call out to you but you shrug.

“All is forgiven.”

You place a towel and first aid kit on your fish cooler and motion to the chair next to it.

"Can you get out of the water for me? You can sit on this seat so I can clean you up."

"Um…"

"What’s up?"

He visibly tenses at the question and musters out, "I just don't think I can get up into that seat."

He moves closer to the pier and places his hands on the worn wood before trying to lift himself up and falling back in the water.

“Not a problem man! I’ll help you up.”

“Wait!”

You take a good grip on his arm, muster all the strength you used trying to reel him in the first time, and heave him onto the dock. Your eyes widen when you see that his bottom half isn't human at all. His hips were completely covered in burgundy scales and as he sits himself on the edge of the pier, you realize that his lower body tapers off into a giant tail.

For the second time today you find yourself struggling to find words.

The man--no merman realizes your shock and gives an empty chuckle. "I've scared you again…"

Immediately, you blink and shake your head. "I--I'm just a little surprised, but not scared. You’d be surprised yourself that this doesn’t even top the list!"

Supernatural beings in this town aren’t exactly few and far between, are they?

“Anyways, tail or not, your arm still needs attention. Lift it up for me?”

The man gapes back at you but does as you say. It seems he’s the one left speechless this time.

You grab the disinfectant spray off the cooler and move the bandages to the seat before approaching him.

"This might sting a little."

You spray where the hook had got him and you realize that the gash goes down further than you thought originally. It begins near his shoulder and fades out around the middle of his bicep due to you trying to reel him in. The guilt starts to set in pretty fast as you inspect the wound.

As you try to take your mind off the damage you caused you notice the merman seems lost in thought.

"What's your name?" you ask.

He seems surprised yet relieved by the break in the silence. He slips into a relaxed and elegant smile and says, “Elliott. Might I ask you yours?"

"I’m ____, but most people just call me the farmer around here."

"Then it's very nice to meet you, farmer."

You grab the bandages but then remember that the Elliott would eventually have to go back in the water. So you fiddle with the packaged roll in your hands instead.

"Well, I think I'm done. I can't wrap the wound cause it would be bad if the bandages got wet. Will you be okay?"

"You needn’t worry! It will heal in no time at all and even more so since you helped me." He gives you a very charming smile and you can't help returning it.

He’s really different from everyone else in town, you think to yourself, and not just because of the whole merman situation. Elliott had a mature and sophisticated manner of speaking which was a welcome change of pace. And speaking with him was effortless as it was enchanting. You hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.

"Do you live here?"

The merman frowns slightly before shaking his head. "Unfortunately, I appear to be stuck between a rock and a hard place in terms of my home.”

"Oh, are you lost?"

"Not necessarily. I ended up here because I had nowhere else to go. The humans in blue along the coast have closed off any underwater entrance back into the ocean from here."

You tilt your head wondering what he means before it hits you.

Joja.

"The dam--They must have shut it off completely. But they said that they wouldn't!"

Your brow furrows as you try to figure out how this happened. Earlier in the year, Joja had finished the construction of their dam running along the outlet of the river bank to the sea. All you knew about it was bits of information you overheard in the saloon, really, and that helped you remember two things. That the dam was unfortunately an energy powerhouse in Stardew Valley and Joja was only allowed to build the dam under the condition that they could not mess with the river bank’s environment.

Cutting off the sea from the river is a huge interjection! They couldn't even do it without the proper authorization! What could they possibly be hoping to gain from a severed connection between the river and ocean?

Your thoughts come to a halt when you see Elliott giving you a concerned look. The last thing you want to do is give him more reason to worry, so instead you inhale deeply and do your best to comfort him.

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I wish I could help you get back."

He smiles weakly, "Your kindness and concern are enough."

The sentiment was nice but you shake your head. "No, I'm going to help you get back home. I've just decided."

The merman's eyes widen. "But how?"

"...That is a good question." You think for a moment but nothing is really coming to mind.

"I don't know yet but I'm sure we can come up with something eventually!"

Fortunately, that's enough to raise Elliott's spirits. "Perhaps you're right. They do say two heads are better than one."

You smile, but maybe you need to recruit some assistance though.

[bloodfromthethorn]

The past is never dead. It’s not even past

Bozer and Riley knew, logically, that Mac and Jack would share some bad memories. They weren't expecting to stumble across one while they were busy planning some R&R over the Pacific Ocean.

Also on AO3 ->

..

Bozer was still getting used to the idea of going on actual, honest-to-god missions for a US government covert agency, but even he had to admit, this one sounded pretty simple. Mac and Jack apparently had some sort of aversion to the word - the instant Riley had said it earlier, the pair of them had looked a heartbeat away from running for the hills - but all of them had had to agree that being tasked to fly to the other side of the world and sit around surveilling a suspected dead drop was about as plain sailing as it was ever going to get. They didn’t even have to confront anyone who approached said dead drop, just record and report it. 

The result was, unsurprisingly, Riley and Bozer planning what they were going to do with the ample free time they were sure to have. Jack had initially made some attempt at reining them in, reminding them that as easy as it may seem, they were going there to do some actual work, but he’d given up some time ago and now seemed content to listen to them plotting in peace. Amused, Mac had just watched the whole conversation play out without a word. 

It wasn’t until Bozer and Riley had spent a solid ten minutes arguing about the possible pros and cons of a natural mud spa that the blonde figured it was time to intervene. “You two know that at most Matty’s going to give us a few hours of R&R before she calls us home. All of this planning is going to go to waste.”

“If that,” Jack put in with only a touch of sullenness. “Remember that time in Trinidad? We didn’t even get a full ten minutes before we had to be back on the plane.”

Mac wrinkled his nose at the memory. His recollection was foggy given that they had more or less crawled back to the landing strip and then passed out the instant they were off the ground, but then, that was really the point Jack was making. “Right? Just saying you shouldn’t get your hopes too high.”

Bozer scowled at them both. “You two have absolutely no faith. I have no idea why Matty thinks all four of us should be on this mission but I for one fully intend to make the most of it. If you want to sit back and be negative, that’s on you.” He let that indictment hang in the air for a minute, then bumped his shoulder against Mac’s. “'Sides, you’re supposed to be helping! You must know all the best sights, right?”

Unexpectedly, that earned him a confused frown. “Should I? Why? I’ve never even been to Fiji.”

Across from them, sprawled out carelessly against his seat, Jack suddenly went rigid. The change was sharp enough that all three of them picked up on it even though the man hadn’t actually moved, staying exactly where he was like a bug under a microscope. Bozer cast a quick glance at Riley but she looked every bit as lost as he did.

Fortunately, Mac was apparently more clued in. “When was I in Fiji, Jack?” He asked quietly, his voice very gentle. 

For a very long moment there was no response. Bozer considered answering the question - he’d asked Mac about tourist attractions in the first place because he remembered Mac had holidayed in the South Pacific with Nikki three summers ago - but he’d gotten the sense that maybe this wasn’t a conversation he should involve himself with. Jack still hadn’t so much as twitched and he could feel Mac tensing up beside him. 

Eventually, Jack answered with a heavy sigh. “July 2015.”

A short pause. “Ah,” Mac said quietly, his eyes darting to an unremarkable spot on the floor for a second before jumping back to Jack. 

The pair of them fell silent, Jack glaring sharply at the ceiling of the plane cabin while Mac watched him steadily. Evidently something significant had just happened, and Bozer had a sneaking suspicion he was at fault for whatever it was, but he didn’t think he could just leave it there. Apparently, neither could Riley. “What happened in July 2015?”

Predictably there was no response, so Bozer offered her the little that he knew. “Mac went on a ‘work trip’,” he said with quotation marks. “I thought he was in Cleveland. Then just when he was due to come home, Nikki called me. Said they were taking a last minute vacation to Fiji and I shouldn’t expect them back for another two weeks. Ended up being gone most of a month.”

At the time, it hadn’t been that weird. Logically he understood that it might sound strange to most people, but Mac had always been a somewhat inconsistent presence in Bozer’s life, even when they were kids. It was just the way he worked: Mac would go where his brain took him and he wouldn’t stop until he’d achieved whatever it was he was hoping to do. In hindsight, that long standing pattern of behaviour must have been a godsend when Mac had joined DXS and Bozer had become part of his cover.

But that was then. Now, he knew the truth of those strangely frequent, unpredictable work trips - except in all the ways that he didn’t. “I take it you weren’t in Fiji,” he asked slowly. 

Mac didn’t look away from where Jack was still frozen. “No.”

“Where were you?”

He hummed. “Not entirely sure, to be honest. I think I wound up somewhere in the Ural mountains.”

Bozer tried to work out the most delicate way of asking further and found none. The deadened tone of Mac’s voice would have made it very clear it wasn’t a happy memory even if the fact that he apparently hadn’t known where he was hadn’t given it away, and his eyes hadn’t drifted from where Jack was looking more and more strained. 

As Bozer floundered, Riley pressed on. “A mission gone bad?”

“In the worst way,” Mac agreed, then seemed to come awake from some reverie. He blinked, and finally looked away from his partner to take the two of them in. Whatever it was he saw on their faces, he visibly made an effort to make himself smile and relax, shaking off the grim set of his shoulders like an unwanted coat. “We were in Minsk, tasked with surveillance on a human trafficker. Turned out that he was more well-connected than we thought, and some of his friends ended up grabbing me out of our hotel room.” His voice faltered ever so slightly and he bit off whatever he was about to say next. 

Bozer did some quick maths and came up feeling ill. “You were gone for a month.”

“I wasn’t with them the whole time,” Mac hurried to reassure, immediately seeing what Boze was getting at. “Jack caught up with me after about ten days.”

“It was too fucking long,” Jack murmured, the first thing he’d said in over a minute. He still hadn’t moved, but he was wearing one of the darkest expressions Bozer had ever seen on his face. “Should have got there sooner. Should never have let them take you in the first place.”

“It wasn’t your fault Jack,” Mac said with the air of someone who had already said it a thousand times, but was willing to repeat it for as long as necessary. “You were on the other side of the city when they found us. We didn’t even know that they knew we were there.” He glanced back at Bozer to explain, “Someone at the CIA leaked information. The target wasn’t supposed to have any idea there were agents in the city, but somehow his guys knew exactly what hotel room to hit. We didn’t get any warning.”

“I knew something was bogus,” Jack said, more to himself than anything. “I said it felt off, and then I fucked off and left you in that hotel on your own.”

“Instinct isn’t everything. We had no reason to suspect the hotel wasn’t safe.”

Jack shook his head sharply and said nothing more. Mac sighed, but didn’t press. 

Thoroughly thrown for a loop and feeling more than a little bit guilty for inadvertently touching on what was so obviously a sore point, Bozer cast a wild-eyed look at Riley. She looked little better than he felt, pale in the harsh white of the plane’s overhead lighting. They’d both known that, in theory, Mac and Jack both had years of service behind them and that those years were likely to be host to any number of bad memories, but to have the knowledge of that so suddenly and specifically confirmed was a lot to take in.

“If you were- there for ten days,” Boze started slowly, half-knowing the answer and needing to hear it anyway, “Why were you gone for so long?”

Mac glanced back down at the floor, looking distinctly uncomfortable before he settled himself. “I was in medical for a bit. Once I could shake the oxygen mask, I moved into Jack’s apartment for a few weeks. I would have been good to come home but there was- bruising.” He fumbled over the last word, waving a distracted hand at his face as though that explained anything. 

For the first time since they’d broached the topic, Jack moved. He jerked to his feet with a strange lurching step, as though he hadn’t expected to do it himself, then marched towards the back of the plane, shaking his head as he went. Bozer caught the tail end of some dark mutters, but he couldn’t make anything out past the stormcloud of Jack’s expression. Startled, Riley shifted forwards to go after him, but Mac just waved her down, watching Jack’s retreating back with a careful eye before turning back to the two of them. 

“He’s okay,” he said, as though that was in any way believable. “It’s not a great memory, for either of us. Despite what it sounds like, he got the worse end of the deal.”

Riley’s eyebrows rose. “You were in captivity for ten days and he had the hard time?”

“I knew he would come after me. He didn’t know what he would find when he got there,” Mac said with a shrug. He’d said it flippantly, like it was some great truth of the universe that was just the Way Things Were. Maybe to him, it was. “Sure, physically I was a mess, but that stuff heals. If I had the choice again, I wouldn’t have switched places with him for anything.”

Bozer was shaking his head slowly, trying to remember details he had brushed off as unimportant years ago. “I remember you coming home. There were bandages on your arm.” A pause, then, accusingly, “You said you got got by a jellyfish.”

Looking down, Mac tugged self-consciously at the cuff of his rolled-up left sleeve, only managing to draw attention to what he was trying to keep hidden. They were faint - so faint as to be almost invisible against his already pale skin - but for the first time Bozer was able to make out a fine tracery of scars marring the skin of his forearm like a spider’s web, twisting all the way from his wrist to beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Jesus, Mac,” Riley breathed. 

“Electrical burns,” he offered as the explanation they wouldn’t have asked for. Catching their thunderstruck looks, he shifted his expression to what he probably imagined was reassuring. “It looks worse than it was, mostly; being shocked hurts like hell but there’s no real permanent damage to worry about. Honestly, most of it was superficial stuff, scarcely a mark left on me. The only reason I was in medical for as long as I was was because they had to drain my lungs and get me on antibiotics in case of infection. Could have been home within a day otherwise.”

Bozer wasn’t entirely sure what it was about Mac that made him think that explanation would do anything at all to allay their concerns, but he didn’t care for it at all. Worse than any of that though was the dawning realisation in the back of his mind that had been growing steadily ever since Mac mentioned moving into Jack’s place. “Except you couldn’t have come home,” he said quietly, needing to hear it for himself. “Because I was there.”

Mac shuffled in his seat, but held his gaze. “A couple of bruises could probably have been explained away, but I was… kind of a mess. Even if you could have believed I got hit by a car or something, all it would have taken was a few screaming nightmares to give me away. No way it wouldn’t have blown my cover.”

He sounded apologetic even as he said it, bracing himself as though he was expecting Bozer to lash out at him for something that had already been long forgiven. Sure, lying to him for years had been a shitty thing to do, but Boze understood why he had done it now, and he knew that Mac had only ever been trying to keep him safe. It might have been the wrong choice, but it was done for all the right reasons. 

“Mac,” he started, uncertain and wounded and so, so guilty, “Mac, you should have been at home. After whatever it was you went though, you should have been able to recover in your own house.”

Mac blinked at him in clear surprise. Did he really not understand? Boze tried again. “I’m guessing that Jack wasn’t the only one dealing with some shit when you got back to LA and I’m not even going to pretend I can imagine what that was like. You should have been able to come home, come back to the place where you felt safe and cared for and-” He sucked in a hard breath. “And you couldn’t, because of me. I chased you out of your own house when you’d been tortured.”

The blonde was already shaking his head, looking stricken. “That wasn’t on you. Boze, that was never on you.” He finally stopped worrying at his sleeve to grip Bozer’s shoulder, tight and grounding. “I was the one who kept the truth from you. I lied to you, for years, and that’s all on me. I know that if you’d known what had happened you would have been there for me and you only weren’t because I didn’t let you.”

He wasn’t wrong and Bozer knew it, but he wasn’t exactly right either. “I get that. But you do know that you shouldn’t have had to make that choice, right? You should have been able to come home Mac.”

Riley was glancing between the two of them looking utterly lost, and Mac was starting to look not much better, so Boze took a slow breath and tried his best to let it go. He had spent years of his life trying to convince Mac that he should rank his own well-being at least somewhere on his list of priorities, and this was really just another piece of that endless puzzle. There would be time to fight that battle later. “I’m just glad you’re okay man. No lasting damage?”

Thankful for the lifeline being offered, Mac dropped his hand away from Bozer’s shoulder and shrugged lightly. “A few scars, but nothing else. Like I said, I had a surprisingly easy time of it in comparison to Jack.” His eyes darted over to where his partner had hunkered down as far from them as he could get. “And speaking of, give me a minute.”

He was on his feet and gone before either of them could even think about trying to stop him, not that they would have done. Bozer had the sense that this was a conversation they had had before, and he knew that Mac would have it handled. If there was anyone who could convince Jack that he hadn’t somehow apocalyptically failed the man he had dedicated his own life to protecting, it would be the man himself. 

“How many stories do you think they have?” Riley asked quietly, soft enough that the others wouldn’t hear her. “All the years they’ve been doing this… How much is there that we don’t know about?”

Bozer thought about the scars on Mac’s arm that he’d never really seen before, about the number of unannounced work trips he had gone on after he came back from Afghanistan. Thought about the number of times he had heard him moving around the house late at night after a nightmare, or worse, the times he’d woken up crying out in panic. He’d known for years that Jack had a protective streak a mile wide and he’d centered it firmly on Mac; before he’d known about the Phoenix, Bozer had always wondered if the man was going overboard. Now, he knew with certainty that he wasn’t. 

When he met her gaze, there were tears in Riley’s eyes. “Too much.”

[sweeethinny]

Reputation - So It Goes... (Chapter 6)

sorry for the delay, it is always complicated to write these chapters

for this chapter, a special thanks to @theroomofreq who helped me and didn’t let me give up and delete everything, thank you honey <3

AO3

TW: for depressive feelings and suicidal thoughts

See you in the dark All eyes on you, my magician

GINNY WEASLEY

It had been almost two months since the battle was over, since Voldemort was destroyed, and all those people died. It had been almost two months since Ginny and Harry had returned.

It had all been so fast that she didn't even remember it; 

Two nights after that May day the Burrow felt like the worst place to stay, Ginny was so suffocated that even though she breathed normally, it felt like her lungs were getting dry at all. It was so difficult to accept, so complicated to deal with all that ... but she was not alone.

Harry looked the same, even if in different ways. He dodged conversations, disappeared for hours, and always seemed to be prepared to wake up and fight again.

They were both so destroyed, it didn't even seem to be real.

Then, on the third day, when Ginny jumped into the lake in the middle of the night even though it was light rain and cold wind just to feel something, being submerged by who knows how long, Harry was there, jumping together and going after her with a wit that for a moment Ginny thought she had jumped into the ocean.

''Oh, Merlin!'' He grabbed her shoulders, lifting her with all his strength, looking scared to hell. ''Ginny, fuck!'' Harry hugged her, cold and trembling, crushing her against him, his heart pounding as fast as a parade of 100 hippogriffs. ''I thought… heavens, I thought you were drowned'' She felt so fragile it felt like sugar in his arms

''I'm fine'' She whispered, like a secret in his ear ''I'm here'' Her nails dug into his cold skin, her breath coming out in sobs

She didn't remember how long the two of them stayed there, or when they started kissing, or even how they ended up together in the living room, hugging each other in front of the fireplace, in silence. And for the first time in those three days, or in the whole year, she wasn't sure, Ginny breathed easily, feeling safe. Feeling something.

After this episode, the two returned in secret, thinking that it was not necessary to communicate to anyone at the beginning, and that they deserved to have something just for themselves. It was a relieving peace when there was no need to explain every detail to anyone.

But it was pretty tricky when the fucking Wizarding World Savior was secretly dating, because Harry captured all eyes on himself, even though he tried to camouflage himself anyway

All eyes on us You make everyone disappear, and

''I wanted to be alone with you'' he whispered in the midst of all the confusion in that Hall, pretending to fix his tie.

It was another tiring Ministry event where everyone would be assessing Harry's every move, commenting on his clothes and the way he had cut his hair, or the scars that appeared on his arms, and Ginny was even happy with the burns that still persisted in the his skin, because she had marked him on the neck last night and was still barely visible.

"That witch keeps looking at us," Ginny whispered too. She smiled at the woman who seemed a little curious about Ginny's proximity to him. "Maybe she wants an autograph from me."

Harry laughed, disguising himself with a cough before turning to talk to whoever wanted his attention, leaving her alone in the middle of everyone.

He looked very handsome, with the elegant black suit and the cut hair - but still messy - his weight was starting to come back now that he ate nutritious and healthy food, and, Ginny thought, he looked more and more like that boy she dated in her fifth year. Even though many things had changed, many things, that burning in her chest and the tightness in stomach every time he approached and whispered in her ear, or blinked boldly when no one was looking, were still present.

And as much as they were in a room with 500 other wizards, and her entire family was nearby, it was as if when the two stood side by side, only they existed.

Cut me into pieces Gold cage, hostage to my feelings

''Harry looks very happy'' Hermione approached, speaking as if it were a secret that no one but them was allowed to know ''I wonder what has changed''

''What?'' Ginny replied, not wanting to report that she was following him with her eyes, looking for the best way to escape to a bathroom or some dark, empty room.

''I said that Harry looks very happy. Reminds me of sixth year...'' Hermione said, looking at Ginny with all that knowingness that only Hermione had, smiling restrained while raising a brown eyebrow.

''I don't know, maybe it's because there is no more war, and his name is no longer marked to die'' The redhead shrugged, while speaking very naturally ''Teddy has done a good job of leaving him good mood too''

"I don't think it's just him," Hermione insisted, before leaving and walking towards Ron.

Ginny looked for her boyfriend, his head protruding from some around him, not looking so excited to talk to anyone around him, nodding as usual and barely opening his mouth, scratching the back of his neck and ruffling his hair as usual . When the green eyes went up and looked for her too, she thought his visions sparkled, a light pink color rising on his cheeks as he secretly winked at her, before turning his full attention back to the man in front of him.

She can barely contain the feelings that ripped through her chest, her lungs filling with air and relieving all the tension that it was to be in those events, where everyone always insisted on remembering Fred's death.

Ginny knew she was hooked up to the neck by that noble idiot.

Since that kiss after the game against Ravenclaw, the sunny days clinging to the gardens and any dark alley that existed, Bill and Fleur's wedding day when he left, leaving her with no promise of return, alone in that absolute terror it was Hogwarts, even today, when they sneak into the lake, or into each other's room - Harry was in Percy's old room...

And she couldn't see a future where Harry wasn't there.

 Back against the wall Trippin', trip-trippin' when you're gone

''They're going to drive you crazy'' Ginny said as soon as she managed to approach him without generating suspicion, grabbing a glass of wine and wetting her lips - she would be 17 in a few weeks, but who really cared? She had lost a brother, had the right to drink a glass or two.

''They always leave me'' Harry replied. Ron and Bill approached, including them in a banal conversation clearly in order to free him from all that tension, which did not make sense, because many people also wanted to talk to Ron, who was sometimes more tense and nervous than Harry.

''Gin, are you following our wizard everywhere?'' Ron commented, looking slightly loud, Bill laughed, but looked closely at the two, who were keeping a safe distance.

''No, we just crashed around here. I came to get wine'' she said, raising her glass ''I was talking to Hermione, and then to another witch too old to wear a dress as colorful as that'' She lied, just because she knew that no one would confront her about the truth. Hermione had spoken to her, and there were many witches in very colorful dresses for an event like that.

The conversation continued, without many interesting things and complex subjects, just a chat that you would easily hear in a banal meeting of friends. Her brothers eventually pulled away, and as much as everyone still looked at the remaining Weasley next to Potter, Ginny continued with her performance, tasting the wine and biting her cheek to keep from smiling when she saw Harry's eyes on her lips.

''If you keep looking at me like that, everyone will know'' And this time, after saying that, she left, leaving him alone for anyone who wanted to disturb his peace.

Nothing was still so easy, in fact, just those moments where the two teased each other and hid giggles were so simple, the rest of the hours, it was still tense and difficult to endure, and eventually, Ginny broke down completely with the reality that hit .

There were nightmares too, that chased her almost every night, just as they chased Harry, which had made them start sleeping  together, hugging each other whenever one woke up flushed, sweaty and trembling with fear, ensuring they could find that spot of balance that only seemed right when they were side by side.

And these events were definitely the worst, not just by all eyes on them, but the feeling that nobody could talk about anything other than the War, the deaths, the losses ... Everyone knew that Fred was incredible and everyone those attributes that they make a point of talking about after the person dies (even if they used to speak ill of him before), Ginny didn't need to be remembered every two minutes.

''Corridor to the right, fourth room'' Harry whispered as he passed, the voices around him muffling slightly, but nothing that Ginny couldn't hear. Their ears were trained to recognize his noises from impressive distances.

Ginny smiled, feeling the excitement burn her body, happy that almost everyone around her was paying attention to the story that Shacklebolt was telling, to the point that they didn't notice when the Savior of the Wizarding World disappeared with the youngest of the Weasleys.

'Cause we breakdown a little But when you get me alone, it's so simple

Nor was there time between her entering the room and being able to look around before she was grabbed and her lips were attacked, crushed against Harry's, which, like her own, tasted like wine. She could easily get drunk, and she wouldn't be complaining.

''I hate to like being so provoked with every move you make'' Harry spoke against her mouth, pushing her further against the protected door of everyone outside.

''But I wasn't even teasing you'' Ginny said.

Not in the last few minutes at least, she thought, laughing.

"And licking your lips and drinking the wine very slowly, is it natural now?" Harry snapped, looking quite affected, attacking her neck skin with delicious hunger.

''It's hard to take without smudging my lipstick'' She said while throwing her head back, giving him more space for his endless fun ''They'll notice our absence''

"No, I acted like a poor sad boy just now, and they'll think I just ran away somewhere in search of peace," he said. The two met again, nose touching, Ginny's feet floating as Harry held her in the air so that they were at the same height, increasing the pressure and pressing her against the door even more. For a second, she thought they would end up breaking the wood and falling on the other side, like two stooges. ''Well, I technically ran away in search of peace ... ''

"Don't say those romantic things" she said, blushing like a tomato, even though it was idiot. Harry always said these stupidly cute things at random times, which made her feel embarrassed like a little girl. "And what is the excuse for me to be gone?"

''I don't know ... colic? Menstruation? Do any of those things women have to use to escape from places?'' Harry commented laughing, winking at her before kissing again, with all that ferocity from before ''I just need time with you '' Ginny  melted, sighing with the kisses and letting go of all that sentimentality that burned in her chest.

She knew what Harry meant, she also needed a time away from everything, a time where nothing else mattered but him, where they didn't need to wear masks or armor to deal with situations. That moment when the two understood each other perfectly, getting naked even if they were dressed, without shame in exposing their minds to each other. That moment that was theirs and no one could steal.

'Cause baby, I know what you know We can feel it

Then no other words were heard in there, at some point Harry laid them on a couch in the room and stood over Ginny, kissing any part he could reach without having to move much.

She took off his suit, leaving only the white shirt, playing with the buttons while sighing with the kisses he gave in her skin. It was all so needy, that the two looked like hungry animals, marking each other as if to claim them for themselves.

Ginny thanked her for listening to Fleur and putting on a skirt, as her boyfriend's hand reached her panties much more easily than it would have if she had put on her jeans. ''Shit'' She moaned, biting her cheek and losing consciousness.

Harry lifted his head from the curvature of her breasts, smiling all proudly, his lips and cheeks all smeared with red lipstick, which made her wonder, how was she at that moment.

But it didn't matter, nothing mattered in there, not when Harry was making her lose her head like that, and when he sighed and moaned in her ear saying nice words, that if it was another time she would make some joke that he was so romantic when was excited. There was nothing but them, raw and open to each other.

And all our pieces fall Right into place Getting caught up in a moment Lipstick on your face So it goes

"Presentable to go back there?" Harry said, turning to her and adjusting his tie, before running his hand through his hair in an attempt to lessen the mess.

''Yes'' She replied, barely looking at him through the mirror she carried in her bag, going over her lipstick and wiping off any smudges that still lingered on her face ''You go first, I'll stay awhile and I can use the excuse of being just breathing'' He nodded, kissing her cheek before leaving the room.

After a few minutes, a check again on her look, and more makeup to cover the marks on the skin of her neck, Ginny came out, looking as good as she could get, walking among people and following where her mother was, getting relieved that no one cared much about knowing where she was.

Harry, who was a few steps away, was red as a tomato, wiping his face awkwardly, seeming to control himself not to look at Ginny, who wanted to laugh the moment she saw the blood red spot on his lips and cheek.

"Harry, what the fuck?" George, who hadn't laughed in a while, said, holding up a laugh

''I didn't know you liked makeup, Harry'' Ginny commented, approaching her with brown eyes shining with amusement ''The color looks pretty on you'' The lipstick wasn't coming off completely, just smudging with every hand he took gave, which made it even more comical

''Dude, if you wanted to have some time for touch-ups, it was just talking, we wouldn't judge you'' Lee said ''But I think you'd look better with a darker color'' Everyone around him laughed, even Harry who managed to clean his face

"Ginny, maybe you can lend me your kit next time" Harry said

''Of course, a bright shadow and a good illuminator would make you look better in the pictures'' She blinked, all playful and provocative, biting her own blood-red lip slightly, and happy to have slightly ignorant siblings for not noticing these small details.

When George and everyone else started talking about any trivial matter, Ginny got close enough to Harry to reach his suit pocket, sliding the fabric from her hands to the other location, then removing her hand and smiling at her boyfriend, who frowned and looked curiously at his pocket, now slightly heavier.

The redhead withdrew, walking slowly away from them and barely managing to smile when she heard Harry's exasperated sigh, not restraining herself and looking over her shoulder, only to see him with his eyes closed and his cheeks turning red, but this time, it didn't look ashamed. As if he knew he was being stared at, he opened his green eyes, much darker and brighter than usual, which made Ginny smile victoriously, continuing her parade through the hall - this time, without panties.

I'm yours to keep And I'm yours to lose You know I'm not a bad girl, but I Do bad things with you So it goes

HARRY POTTER

Still - very much - affected by the black lace in his pocket, Harry sat in the bar table, happily already out of the Ministry event, feeling much freer from all the looks in him and all those questions that never seemed to end or a good answer.

It was a muggle bar, where the only people who recognized him were those who were accompanying him, and the bartender, who was an abortion, but who didn't seem to care much about Harry being there.

''Everyone is looking at you'' He whispered to Ginny beside him, filling her glass with the water she had asked for, and then, doing the same with his own glass, buying time so they could have those close moments without anyone suspecting it.

"It's not true," she replied.

But Harry could point out at least five guys who couldn't take their eyes off her, looking almost like clouds with Gin's every move. And he didn't blame them, it was really hard to take his eyes off her that night - like all the others, that he needed to force himself not to be staring at every part of it.

Met you in a bar All eyes on me, your illusionist

Harry was happy, for the first time in almost a year, he had managed to spend more than a month happy, as when he was in the sixth year and lived those sunny weeks with Ginny by his side. But this time, it was weeks turning into months.

She had scared him to hell by jumping into that lake, and as much as he thought she should have a little rest, it was terrifying just to imagine that Ginny could be trying to take her life or anything. Those few seconds - which seemed like hours - that her body did not appear in the middle of the dark water that shone at night, Harry almost went crazy, barely able to reason properly. He would hardly be able to survive if she died.

There were already so many deaths to endure, that if Ginny was gone too ... no, Harry thought, he probably would have died together.

''I think they might be looking at you too'' She replied, in that cheeky tone that only Ginny could do ''The guy on the left, looks really impressed with you'' Harry laughed, amused by the man a few years older, winking at him

''I'm interested in making only one person look at me'' He spoke softly, enjoying the mess on the table while Ron, Lee, George and Percy discussed their orders

Ginny did not answer, Hermione - who was looking at them suspiciously - started a banal conversation, leaving Harry to rest his head on the cushioned wall of the booth, looking at everyone at the table.

It was good that George had made a joke or two again, and that Ron managed to drag Lee with them again, even Percy, seemed convinced to make everyone feel ... more relieved.

Everyone was doing a good job, however, none of them managed to do one percent of what Ginny did, even if they didn't even realize it. And Harry might sound like a corny romantic she always said he was when he was aroused, but there was no doubt that she was the main cause of him being able to breathe again - and he was not aroused now.

All eyes on us I make all your gray days clear, and

"So, Harry, whose lipstick was it?" George asked, looking a lot less tense than hours ago

''Was it that blonde who was talking to you? Because if it is, bud, you were lucky man'' Lee teased, raising his eyebrows and winking maliciously, making Harry laugh.

Ginny's nails hit the table at a calm and controlled pace, but Harry would bet his fortune that she was giving everything she could to be as serious as possible, even though her brown eyes were burning like embers.

"It wasn't hers" he said. They had dealt with keeping it a secret, and apart from the part he couldn't grab her at any time, it wasn't too bad. Doing things without having to explain and having to deal with millions of questions and opinions was a relief, but Harry hardly ever knew what to do when someone talked to him about another woman.

''So, who? Or did you really start wearing makeup now?'' Ron said, smiling at the waiter who placed the orders in front of each other, taking a little longer when he placed the chicken salad for Ginny. Harry had to wrinkle his napkin to keep from rolling his eyes and laughing.

He didn't blame them for thinking she was beautiful, but it was quite intrusive how they looked at her breasts or how they made her look like a piece of meat and nothing else.

''Yeah Harry, who?'' Ginny said, filling her mouth with her colorful salad and pieces of chicken, looking at him curiously, proving to him that her eyes were burning like embers. And he knew it was not excitement, because he had seen another moment like that when they were in the Leaky Cauldron and a witch flirted with him. Ginny looked like an angry cat at his side.

But it also had that spark of amusement, because unlike the Leaky Cauldron day, now he would have to explain himself.

''Just ... '' He started, trying to think of something correct to say, biting his cheeks to keep from laughing ''I was just trying on lipsticks ... what can I say? These events make me do things to stay away for a while'' He shrugged

''Mate, as much as I understand you, I'm crazy there too, but you could have told us'' Ron said.

''Yes, that blonde was really hot, and I think she was quite willing to make you have an empty mind'' And this time, after Lee's comment, Ginny's nails sank into Harry's thigh, which he swallowed fright and tried his best not to express any reaction or to laugh.

I wear you like a necklace I'm so chill but you make me jealous

The conversation continued between everyone, Ginny's nails eased but her hand remained there, a little territorial, but nothing that Harry would ever complain about. Everyone was entertained with mundane things and maybe it was the least stressful time they had in the whole day, which was great and soothing.

Hermione would occasionally look at Ginny's interactions with him, but the two were great actors and made things seem just friendly, and simple, even though her panties were still in his pocket - now that he had dropped his suit , it was in his pants pocket - and the redhead's bold hand occasionally fell on his thigh and went up far more than the respectable among friends. Ginny also made her charm, throwing her hair over her shoulder and laughing out loud, lifting her chin and showing her creamy neck. It seemed normal and natural to anyone, but Harry always had to look away when that little show started, not wanting any part of his body to wake up.

''What are you going to do now?'' George asked, drinking what should be, his fourth muggle beer, looking at the younger ones

''Harry and I are going to do auror training'' Ron said, and Harry nodded ''Shacklebolt offered and ... I don't know, we just accepted ''

''But you didn't do the NIEM'' Hermione replied

'' I think saving the Wizarding world is proof enough, Mione, but thanks for your concern'' Harry said, laughing weakly and taking a sip of Gin's soda, which was clearly a mistake, as everyone looked at the scene

"Do you share drinks now?" George said, faster than Hermione who narrowed her eyes

''Er .. I ... '' Harry was barely able to formulate the rest of the sentence, blaming the beers for that for that.

"Potter, if you wanted a soda, just tell me and I would ask you. I know the waiter was beautiful and all that, but you don't have to be ashamed'' Ginny joked, smiling all mischievously ''Stay for you, I'll get another one'' And then she got up, as normal as possible

''Harry, are you surprising us today, one hour putting on lipstick, the next time embarrassed by the waiter? Mate, I don't recognize you anymore'' Ron said, seeming to have even more fun ''And look, we spent almost a year living together in a small space''

''Does anyone else want anything?'' Ginny said, her smile never leaving her blood red lips ''If you want, I can try to make him say the name to you'' She looked at Harry, looking as amused as ever

"Thank you, but I'll let this one go" Harry replied, winking and lifting her can of soda.

After Ginny left, wiggling and fussing with her hair with a widespread knowledge that it was making him have to clench his teeth and close his eyes, Harry sighed, barely paying attention to the stupid jokes the boys were making, or that even Hermione was laughing and playing with his face too.

"But now tell the truth, is there no one who is the Chosen One?" Lee said, eating George's fries

Putting his hand in his pants pocket just to feel the fabric against his fingers, Harry felt his heart racing, remembering each day of those past months that he had been with Ginny, each secret he shared with her, and each banal moment they had together. Like when she was embarrassed that he saw her wake up, or when they talked about the Dursleys and she was - without him noticing - terrified by the news that they wouldn't let him eat and that Harry slept under the cupboard.

"I don't know," Harry said, shrugging. "Who knows?"

But I got your heart Skippin', skip-skippin' when I'm gone

[...]

"So, did anyone suspect?" Ginny asked, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and standing on tiptoe to kiss him, pushing him to find her bed so the two of them would fall right there

''No, I think everyone bought the idea that I was just a little crazy today'' Harry replied, squeezing her waist so he could lift her on his lap, sitting on his girlfriend's childhood bed and kissing her back

''You look good in black'' she whispered in the middle of the kiss, running her hands all over his suit before starting her quest to get him out of the way.

Soon Harry's shirt fell to the floor, as did Ginny's, the lacy bra was clearly premeditated by her, but he didn't care, he loved to think she wanted him as much as he did her, planning the attack. He turned them over, laying her in the middle of the pillows and kissing her ankles, calves, knees, thighs, until he reached the middle, still hidden by the black fabric of the skirt, but naked underneath, shiny as a silver piece. Harry salivated.

"You look perfect in black too," he said.

Come here, dressed in black now So, so, so it goes

It was not long before Gin's loud moans tested the silencing spell that Harry cast, his shoulders burned with her nails against his skin, and every time she pulled his hair, it was as if Harry might have his head split in half if he dared to walk away.

Those moments were always intoxicating, with her being overwhelming and loud, moaning his name as if it were the only prayer that could save her, squeezing him between her thighs and arching almost to heaven. Harry could stay there for hours, days, centuries, just tasting and smelling, and listening to the noises that echoed in his mind whenever they were unable to spend time together.

In those moments, when he couldn't just grab her hand and get it out of everyone's eyes, Harry regretted being secretly dating, but then Ginny would tease him and play with his mind until Harry could barely formulate a complete sentence. - without even touching him - and he was enjoying all that secret again, having fun with his goddess who would clearly lead him to his death.

''Up'' Ginny groaned, clenching her nails even further and pulling him by the shoulders ''I need you here'' And with that, Harry almost came in his pants.

They had already done this, a few weeks ago when Ginny came into his room saying that she had had a nightmare and just wanted to sleep with him. Harry knew it hadn't been premeditated, but it had been so good, so perfect, that even though it had been a few days, it still seemed unreal.

The rest of the clothes disappeared in the next instant, and a tangle of mouth, hand and sighs made them fall back on the bed, Ginny hugging him with her legs around his waist, while he disappeared inside her, in the same movement that took him from paradise to hell in milliseconds, feeling her nails dig into his back again and watching her arch with much more intensity.

Scratches down your back now So, so, so it goes

The pace was not as frantic as two nights ago that the two were angry and close to exploding with lust, but it was also not calm and peaceful as the first time, it was just right and perfect, making them touch in the right places that caused louder moans, as Harry's mouth wandered wherever he reached, while he felt her hands mapping him with the usual curiosity.

He didn't even care about the scars or any other marks because it was so ... natural, to be naked in front of her, in every way. It was as if all barriers fell and there was only the two of them again, as if no one could interrupt them in that paradise they had created for themselves.

Ginny managed to heal him far more than any healing potion or spell.

You did a number on me But, honestly, baby, who's counting? I did a number on you But, honestly, baby, who's counting?

''Fuck'' Harry moaned as she pressed herself against him, her thighs encircling him even more as she turned them over, standing on top like an incredible goddess she was, precariously tying her hair and biting her red-stained lip

''I've been thinking about it a lot of the time'' she said, adjusting herself on top of him and resting her hands on his chest, before starting to ride him as if she were after the biggest reward somebody could offer to her. Harry was barely able to contain his own moans every time she touched him again, feeling the pressure build more and more at the base of spine, his vision starting to blur, getting lost in the sea of ​​freckles that ran from her lap to breasts for Ginny's belly.

He felt bewitched.

His hands tightened on her hips, increasing the pressure and speed, aware that he would possibly mark her, but so lost in the sensations that perhaps if he loosened his grip, he would pass out. His toes curled, holding on as tightly as possible, even though he felt her getting hotter and tighter around him.

''Harry'' Ginny moaned, throwing her head back.

He just needed to wait a little longer. Once again she fell again, putting him fully inside.

Twice, and Harry thought he was capable of dying.

Three, he found himself in paradise.

There was no fourth time.

You did a number on me But, honestly, baby, who's counting? Who's counting? One, two, three

Ginny screamed, falling flat on his sweaty chest, looking as soft as gelatin, not that Harry was far from it, feeling like he was floating as his balls softened, just like Ginny around him.

The feeling of peace that hit him was so great that Harry could barely contain the tremors in his thighs, hugging his girlfriend's small body to steady himself on the ground, breathing in the floral scent mixed with sweat and seeing stars behind his eyes.

''I love you'' He was the one who spoke first, after his soft cock slid out of her, causing him to shiver.

''I love you too'' Ginny replied, hugging him too and resting her head on top of his heart, listening to the beat at the same pace as her, fast and almost breaking his chest. Harry was alive, as alive as she was, and he was there, with her. She was his.

The man squeezed her even more, returning to the earth and feeling all that explosion of feelings that always happened when he was beside her, above, or below her. Happy to hell to be there.

Ginny was alive, curled up in him like a tame cat, with him. He was, fucking until the last seconds of his life, hers.

So it goes..

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 13)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 12

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Your existence in their world had reasons. A purpose that involves the contentment that Geralt never found in the world that he was in. The feelings you have for your witcher makes you feel things that you haven’t experienced yet, desires that make you feel sorts of things as it also was a cause of the Cicatrix that laid in between your chest. The question is, were you on the same page as Geralt is? or was it just a misunderstanding prior to that night?

Warnings: Soft and smiley Geralt! (*rolls on the ground*), Sexual Implications, a needy reader, an annoying bard, MODERN references, mention of Divergent, grumpy Geralt, a soft-touchy-feely reader. FLOOFY chapter! Insecure reader tho. 😭 Harry potter and Lord of the Rings references. HAHA!

Words: 8.5k (Well, Hello long ass chapter)

A/N: THERE’S STILL CHAPTER 13.1 BEFORE THE SMUT. AHE. Sorry for the delay. Happy mother’s day to all the mothers out there! Y’all are the best and real superheroes! If this chapter didn’t make you smile, then this means I am a failure for everyone! 😂💖

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

KISSING GERALT HAS BEEN SUCH A DREAM. The kiss felt like you were in seventh heaven and it also kept your mind wide awake the whole night; even with Geralt by your side with his lulling monster stories and those gentle fingers raking your hair like how he always does.

The gesture even made you a little more giddy than ever and Geralt didn't seem to mind as you've kept yourself wide awake; watching him sleep and never keeping him out of sight.

Though, he'd eventually covered those coy eyes of yours because it was bothering him; coaxing you to stop staring and just have your beauty slumber because you needed all the energy for your training.

A training that you thought would be for Cirilla because they've always had their swordplay fights before the sun rises and sometimes in the middle of a beautiful morning; as you watch Geralt in discreet as he wields his sword like how the waves move in the ocean. Very satisfying to ogle and observe.

The way he handles a sword was perfectly smooth and bland like how your coffee tastes in the morning.

Which is why your face was scrunched in peculiarity when he was done with Cirilla's training; giving the smaller silver sword to you with that reticent expression on his face; his habitual tight-lips now relaxed as he eyed you back with that tender gaze he holds whenever you were there.

An image you weren't used to; but may seem to wish it would be there forever because of how soft he appeared for you to see, not his usual brooding and serious persona.

"This is a very nice first date," you sarcastically muttered; wanting to scoff and whine from how unusual it was to receive training from the witcher like you were some sort of Tris Prior in the world of Divergents.

After the kiss last night, you've expected him to give you flowers, gifts, kisses or maybe more of his attention. Howbeit, you'd remember that you weren't in your world and that he wasn't a typical man who'd woo women like that. Geralt was probably a man whom women has been trying to court just to have his attention based on how beautiful and captivating he was.

Were you his beloved now? A girlfriend? his lover? you actually had no idea and chose to stay silent. Never asking anything more as to not ruin his good mood as he woke up in the morning.

Geralt didn't specifically told you anything about being his beloved. The only thing you understood in his words last night was that you were important to him and that he also cared.

Perhaps, he doesn't roll that way. The witcher wasn't particularly that type of man.

Therefore, you left it at that although it was dithering your heart. You were contented whether how ill-defined your position was in his heart.

"Why am I doing this again, Geralt?"

The latter silently watched you fidget with the sword on your hands, your cheeks puffed from how strange you thought his favors may be. He couldn't help but give you a beam that showed his teeth, his emotions thoroughly in a bliss after the night he confessed; parts of his aggression lifting up his chest, "The bard knows how to fight with his dagger," he adhered strictly to the fact, keeping the sword safely on his side.

Those lips of yours jutted in an opposing pout; your eyes seeming to connect with his spellbinding ones while he continued to wheedle, his cat-eyes curving into a soft shape of a crescent and you were totally enamored. Your heart skipping a beat when he was never breaking his gaze away; giving your stomach the heebie-jeebies, "---Cirilla is finally learning the techniques of using a sword,"

Your mouth was now turned into a tight-lipped one, shaking your head from the idea he wanted as you scrunched your nose further, "And I am better watching you and Cirilla have your little sword play fight," pause. "---I'm not going to fight anyone,"

You've continuously shook your head, tutting at the brilliant idea he'd tried to think of. Though, Geralt was adamant for his preposition; seeming to think the idea won't get you stabbing him accidentally or better yet, yourself.

"We can't be certain that there wouldn't be," he proclaimed, utterly determined.

You huffed out a frustrated breath, face falling right in the middle of the meadow as Geralt stood before you. His comely stature shining against the morning light and you were sure you've been blinded, "Right. Bad people are chasing you still,"

A bashful look has been unintentionally given to the witcher, lighting up an amused crooked smile and hum from the latter as he stayed completely taciturn, admiring the shy woman that stood before him.

You've suddenly felt him shift, turning your focus back at the Herculean, white haired Legolas as he'd languidly took a step back, looking calm and composed as he firmly ordered. His smile falling, turning all ruminative.

"Hit me."

More complaints were sent for what he requested, finding the whole ordeal somehow lamented because all you ever held was a pen, paper or laptops that certainly doesn't deal with people shedding blood unless you stab a pen at them. Sure, you've dreamt of fighting in combat in fantasy series or movies; but in your imagination, you were skilled. The version of yourself that you had in your dreams had talent and the one you have today only had idiotical abilities to plot your own demise because of how foolish you were in their world.

"Can't I fight with Jaskier?"

Geralt cocked his head to the side; in utter amusement as a small smile carved his pretty, luscious lips that grabbed all your attention. The witcher immediately noticed and had a smug glint in his amber eyes as he talked, "If you wish to annoy people and woo the king then he is excellent at it," pause. "---You wouldn't learn how to use a real sword from the bard. Unless, using a lute as a form of weapon in the middle of a royal banquet is your choice of fighting then Jaskier would do a great job,"

Thus, from the moment Geralt has made his utterance, Jaskier somehow had the luckiest time on planning to feed Roach as he emerged from the doorway, ceasing himself from sending a teasing ridicule as his name has been called in vain; backstabbing him by finding entertainment from how he tried shielding himself from the incident back in the years.

"I've never received any compliments from you don't you, witcher?" he hollered back, enclosing his mouth with a hand as he called from afar; a bucket full of Roach's food on the other.

Jaskier seen Geralt shake his head, a surprising beam drawing his face as the witcher playfully wisecracked out loud, "You don't need them, Jaskier."

The harmless banter made Jaskier pucker his lips in surprise, never anticipating how he'd gradually changed from being the brooding, reserved witcher to the grinning, active man he was seeing as he was teaching a woman who had no inspiration on learning the techniques of sword fighting.

Geralt simply turned his head to see you awkwardly holding onto the base of Cirilla's sword; having a gawky, hunched stance and the witcher took heed of it but chose not to correct it yet. You were dubious of even holding a sword and also a lot more hesitant as you've tried to strike a blow at his face. Without effort, he'd simply dodged the attack with one hand using minimal strength. The swords instantaneously crashing against each other with a satisfying ring of metals colliding.

Unfortunately, the weapon flew out of your hands as he'd dodged your strike, shamefully falling on the ground with a soft thud. Geralt snapped his eyes at the sword that fell from your hands before feeling his eyes turn to you, "Midget." he calmly scolded, having at least a massive amount of patience for you, "---Take it easy." you'd heard him advice. Baritone timbre soft but still rough which stirred that familiar warmth pooling just below your stomach; heart beat stumping upon your chest because of how you were worried it would obscenely pool in between your thighs. Just the thought of Geralt's presence kindled with the fire raging your insides.

You've never had felt any such strong desire for a man other than the witcher himself and it was beginning to grow frightening because of how you wanted him so bad; the kiss you had probably triggering something inside of you that didn't know it existed.

Maybe, it was probably horny hours like how you had them back in your apartment. The problem here was that you finally had a man to do it with, but you weren't sure if he also desired for you the same way as you do.

What if he only wanted you for companionship? Perhaps, he'll somehow find you boring like how your dates went back in earth when the time comes?

You didn't notice Geralt has grabbed onto the sword that flew right out of your hands, sauntering towards where you were and his presence lingering a little too close for those kindling flames aggravating that desire you had when his voice vibrated from behind.

"Also, try harder."

Despite of how enormously tall and brawny he was, the witcher leaned down to grab onto your hand, his rough fingers caressing yours that was sparking up the flames as it felt so gentle. He placed the handle of the sword onto your palm, delicately dragging the other to hold onto the base. Those calloused palms of his enclosing yours in a warm embrace as his warmth from behind seemed to turn more quenchless as time goes by, a sudden hunger flooding your system as your body turned putty with just a simple touch.

You've felt your throat run dry, stance turning standoffish when he'd loomed behind you. Heavily aware of his presence. Your voice cracking and stuttering as you mindlessly thought out loud, trying to wash the vulgar thoughts away, "I--I--I am! It's just that you've given me a real sword for practice!"

Geralt reiterated; utterly droning, "It's lighter than mine," with a simple raise of his brow as he stood behind you, his face inches close and you could feel his stare completely immense, making you look away from how flushed your face have been, "Even so! It can hurt anyone! Can't I learn witchcraft instead? I’ll be the potato version of Hermione Granger! It’s impossible that your world has no Voldemort! Expecto Patronum! Avada Kedavra!"

The preposition was hurriedly rejected with just Geralt's smile turning upside down; replaced with a scowl that coaxed you to turn your head to see him shaking his head with his face approximately close to yours; those amber eyes trying to melt your heart as he still had that vivid, affectionate dewdrop clustering in those peepers that provoked a satisfied sigh out of your ajar mouth.

His pitch suddenly turned austere; mouth tight-lipped as he quoted, "You will not use any ounce of sorcery from my world," you've seen the side of his lip turn into a smirk as he haughtily added, "---Alas, you are also too clumsy and impulsive for it,"

Geralt grudgingly moved his face an inch away; not before seeing a sight of him taking glimpses of your ajar lips as you awaited to be kissed by the witcher himself; howbeit, he chose to tease and ignored the accented feelings he had been trying to hide since the first day.

The latter surprisingly gave a chortle, his chuckle sounding heavenly amongst the birds chirping in the background, "How dare you?!"

He gave your hands consolatory pats as it was already surrounding the base of the sword. Geralt straightened his back, his thumbs casually giving the back of your hand a soft caress before taking heed of your silent squealing from his seraphic touches, "Hold the sword with your dominant hand, midget." before he took a step back away and muttering a mocking repartee, "---Maybe a Hirikka will be a better combatant than you,"

You've watched him waltzed back to where he was as he stood in front of you with a grin on his face, "I shouldn't have accepted your apology last night." you deadpanned with your eyebrows furrowed from how riled up and entirely flustered you were feeling early in the morning.

The witcher tipped his head with his smug grin, "You didn't. I just knew you would because you never get to have your nap without receiving cuddles and chill from me,"

You've feigned a gasp, unclasping your hold around the sword as you placed your palms around your hip, giving him a sassy posture of how you were appalling by the truth that he suddenly was giving; thoroughly surprised by his sudden pesky, frolic attitude he seemed to vibe. He was learning from your modern references and it shocked you even more.

"It was cold last night!"

"The night is also dark," He ridiculed and mocked what you've said to him last night while he was asking for forgiveness. His teeth slipped against the cardinal pillows of his lips, giving you a gorgeous toothy grin that made your breath hitch as if his aesthetics radiated off the sun light, "---You needed my warmth, midget."

A playful glare was sent to the witcher; intentionally keeping up with his mockeries as you gave a chuff and found his mischief rather entertaining because he rarely acts the way he is right now, "Are you a furnace? No. You aren't, Geralt of Rivia. Don't act like raking those fingers of yours through my hair doesn't help you sleep at night---"

"But, I'm your furnace amidst the benumbing night."

You couldn't help but giggle from his innocuous pick up line, utterly finding it amusing and endearing when you've understood it way differently despite of how ingenuous he wanted it to sound.

Their era and how they communicate was certainly giving you a good ol' laugh.

"Are you calling yourself hot?"

Geralt couldn't help but outstare; gawking from the dazzling laugh you've mindlessly given him. He was oblivious of his beguiling beams he has been making you see and the gaze that bewitched the morose of his spirit, puzzling how a mere person could take away the misery that has been haunting him since the moment his mother has left him alone to become a witcher in their world and a lot more great affliction he'd somehow experienced.

Presumably, your existence in their world had reasons.

Hence, the witcher knew it involved his happiness.

"Now, keep your stance firm," he snapped out of his daydream, gently tapping the tip of his sword on your thigh which erupted a squeak and a tiny whine from you, "---I can't always be with you when you are attacked by anyone who wants my family dead,"

You tilted your head to the side, cheekily wiggling your eyebrows as you grinned up at him like a Cheshire cat as he shook his head from your playfulness, "Did you just lowkey tell me that you treat me as family?"

"Would you want it to be that way then?"

Another failed attempt of giving a successful, strong blow has been swung towards the latter, easily stepping one foot back as he blocked the smite with one hand. Though, you hadn't let the sword fly out of your hands this time which Geralt considered as slight improvement for being taught in the first day.

"Hmm. Again." he'd given an entranced hum, giving a tight lipped smile as he affirmed and tried to wriggle out more strength from you because it was pretty much a reluctant strike as well.

You've straightened your back, keeping your feet loosely away from each other as you sighed an exasperated one. The sword falling on your side as you wanted a truce. Feckless of the pout you were giving to the witcher who was too persistent in giving your body an ache from the training. Geralt raised a brow, seeming to enjoy your whining and allegations from the moment he'd given you a sword.

"Stop puckering your lips like that. I'm not giving you a buss when you're acting like a chit,"

A buss. It sounded pretty much familiar as it was used in those romance books you've read back in earth. His straightforwardness tickling your spine in a delicious way that got you flustered for the tenth time this day. You know your eyebrows rose up till your hairline from how he was assuming things that were actually the truth, "Did that mean a kiss?! I--I wasn't asking for a kiss though!"

"Then, acting adorable won't let you get away from this."

You've groaned out loud; fighting yourself off from stomping your foot out in utter vexation from how he'd always seem to knew what you were thinking. Were you that obvious?

"I hate you,"

Geralt took a stroll towards you, thoroughly leaning down to your height with a cross of his prodigious arms; the sword still in his fist and watching how he'd closely stared into your eyes as he fought off a smile, "The hate is quite indistinct and difficult to tell after you've been kissed last night,"

Your heart wanted to burst from the embarrassment, feeling your face turning into flames. Just add a little bit of oil and people could probably fry anything they wanted to as they use your face as a pan.

Reprehension would have escaped your lips if a hand hasn't clutched onto the side of your neck, his hot breath assaulting your face before you've felt his lips on yours in a hot second; never giving you time to process everything as he broke the buss with a sweet, tinge sound that seemed more soundly in your ears rather than swords colliding in a battle.

His hand behind your nape left in haste, straightening his back and shoulders; acting like he hadn't done anything wrong nor he continued to act like he didn't even give you a small, plain peck to the lips that gave a startle and somehow positioned you into a blissful, heart exploding condition.

"You don't dislike me, midget." Geralt's expressions were indescribable. His features stoic for five seconds before seeing his lips turning into a gloaty smirk as he spun in his heels, leaving you dumbstruck from the surprise.

"G-GERALT! That's not fair!" you stood rooted on the ground, keeping your lips together as you smacked it out loud like you couldn't believe he'd given you another kiss to ruin your ovaries and focus.

He strolled along the meadow, his emotions flying elsewhere as he was entirely finding your reactions hilarious. Geralt walked the path back to where he stood before, turning around in face-front to see your face all red and giving him the stink-eye, "Nothing is ever fair. Now, use all your strength to hit me with your sword."

You tightly grabbed onto your sword with both hands, listening to how he'd told you it should be held and also thoroughly remembering the basics that he told you prior; keeping your stance better than the one you held a while ago, watching how his face lit up as yours turned serious and challenging, "Oh, I will! You're a cocky witcher today and it's annoying!"

Jaskier have fed Roach back in the stable, he walked back to the doorway to see Cirilla leaning her back on the stone walls, arms crossed with a smile that tells how amused she was as she watched how you were trying to strike a successful blow at the witcher who found your lack of knowledge utterly astonishing and endearing; regardless of how he has been fond of having lovers which were strongly independent and knew how to stay alive in a battle.

You were a paradox to his life. Utterly questionable as to why you have even arrived.

"He's not teaching her how to fight," Cirilla admitted towards the bard who subtly nodded beside her, also watching the quote training unquote that you had with the white wolf. Yet, both of them could see how his way of teaching seemed to be less harsh than how they've been taught. Totally aware of how he was also buoyant rather than serious and brooding.

It was like a different Geralt that loom before them as he tutted and shook his head to cease your reckless attempts of trying to hit him with the sword; grabbing onto your fingers to cease you as he explained with a relaxed face he'd given while all you could do was glare and huff back.

Jaskier gave a small smile, eyes narrowed from how the sunshine hits his face and mindlessly tapped the handle of the bucket with his index finger, "The witcher is flirting with the rat, probably want some bonking,"

The lion cub of Cintra gave him a once over, "Some what, bard?"

"Forget what I said,"

Cirilla brushed him off as she went on with her lurking, Something you said ignited a grin out of the witcher as he quietly listened to your rants and rambles about how annoying he have been, "Also, this is the first time I'd seen Geralt smiling like that again. I hope she doesn't leave. I'll do everything for her not to leave,"

The bard gave a nod of understanding. Deeply thinking as to why Cirilla would do everything in her willpower for you not to leave; hence, seeing the smile that Geralt has given you was a simple answer as to why you needed more protecting and a lot more time to stay. Would it be selfish of them when you probably had a family back in your world?

Thus, Jaskier's gaze lingered on you and saw how you giggled back at the witcher who has said something that made him scowl. The mere sight of you strumming along the rakish onslaught of his heart strings from the week that Geralt wasn't around bothered him but he chose the better of it and ignored.

"But, isn't it strange?---" he momentarily ceased, snapping his gaze away from you as Cirilla gave him a nasty lour for whatever thoughts he wanted to say out loud, "---That your step-mother would be pretty much smaller than you?"

The child loudly groaned in response, turning her back away from him as she pulled the doors to go in, "You are honestly the most irritating person in the continent,"

The day has been pretty much a blur. After being trained by the witcher no matter how many failed attempts you tried; his patience utterly high for you to even comprehend that he had a lofty tolerance for your inability to successfully strike a sword.

Your arms were somehow sore, considering the amount of attempts that Geralt has been repeatedly telling you to just hit him with all your might, yet being active in the battlefield will never be your forte. He tried giving you hope, downright telling you that it was normal and everyone improves sooner or later as long as your training had consistency.

You've been a bitchy-pants after the training. All catty and stopping yourself from sending a t-bird for the bard who received a snide remark and decided to send irritating teases that you were just being sexually frustrated.

Simply to say, Jaskier knew you were having your horny hours. That time of the day or that day of the week.

How'd he know? you had no idea. It was probably only his guesses as to why you were acting bitchy towards everyone except Kolby and Cirilla. You were being bitchy towards the men of the house especially at Geralt who has given you body soreness.

If only it was a different type of ache, you would probably not be bitchy.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat your back along the walls of the hallway, the only place where you've found peace because walking in the first floor even got you vexed because Jaskier seem to find your irritation amusing and had been running his mouth about how it was fine to just give in to your fantasies especially that the witcher probably had wanted it as well since the first day.

You were contemplating whether or not to turn on your cellphone; remembering how it was only at seventy-five percent. You've stared on your phone that rested on your hands, spinning it around as you were trying to fight off the kept fervor that has been insatiable and a bother when Geralt has given you one touch.

The feelings and emotions have been skyrocketing, it was already there even just from the start of your morning. However, after going home from the Djinn troubles, it started doubling and began to grow bestial like a monster wanted to come out of your chest from how you badly needed the witcher.

It just wasn't normal.

Geralt was entirely aware of your vexation. Though, he was meters apart from you and was actually outside to take care of Roach. Inside his chest, he felt an ounce of disturbance with the help of your irritations and frustrations; the sensations coming back again and the witcher still had no idea why.

He knew where you were and decided to find you. Finding a midget hunched in the middle of the hallways with her brows tightly furrowed, a worried pout on her face and blown cheeks as you fidgeted with your phone.

Geralt fought the urge of smirking and just sauntered to where you were, his heart beat beating in blissful thumps that got him wondering how it was even possible in just the sight of you.

You've felt his presence looming before your stooping form, a stink eye was given to the witcher who crouched in front of you, his burning gaze solely on you as he cocked his head to the side, observing your face and the state you were in with a smile growing on his face.

"You're annoyed." he artlessly admitted, never risking to leave your sight.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you felt the burning desire grow even further, turning away to help your poor little heart from feeling more bothered than it ever intended to, "How'd you know, Legolas?"

The nasally mention of that nickname you had for him got Geralt frowning. His forehead creased to the extent that he seemed to be thinking rather too deeply as to who this Legolas was and why were you even calling him that.

"---and now you're the one annoyed,"

Geralt kept his lips in a tight firm line. Amber peepers shining in dissatisfaction.

You brushed off his noncommittal reaction; already used to his lethargic norms as you complained about his infuriating friend, "It's Jaskier! He's annoying me since this morning!"

He just continued to give you a listless look, giving a displeased hum as he wholeheartedly let you rant to him.

Then, you added, "---Just his breathing irks me!" which only a hum was the only word you've received again, "Hmm."

You've irritatingly grunted, giving him a glout as you also kvetched, "Stop the humming! You're annoying me as well! You've been annoying me too since this morning!"

Your cavils has stirred a defeated sigh from the latter. His sudden actions obviously had reasons as to why you were abruptly being trained with a weapon. If only he hadn't brought you with them in the marketplace and haven't run into Tybalt then gallants weren't supposed to be searching for you by fair means or foul.

"What did I do this time?" he lowly grumbled, utterly dead beat. A faint, crooked smile raising those lips of his. You've held onto your phone a little more tighter, feeble arms crossed in front of your chest as he simply gave you his attention that you somehow yearn a lot, "You and Jaskier can stay in one room together while I sleep in yours! Men are so annoying! Always have been!"

Geralt's features appeared to be of someone who was suddenly bothered at the understanding of your statement, his listening comprehension twisting whatever it is that you've said as he skeptically appalled, "You have been with other men?"

Your face twisted in a tight cringe, bewildered by his presumptions that sounded like he was telling that you had a lot of men back in the days or basically his words were telling you that he couldn't believe that you actually had a man before. You've given him at least ten seconds of you just giving him a displeased flicker of your eyes before the white haired witcher proceeded with his remarks.

"Also, are you threatening me in my own home? You're kicking me out of my own chambers?"

An innocent nod was given to Geralt. The witcher simply gave an enervated blink, hearing a serious growl buzzed out of his chest; scrutinizing for whatever your eyes held out to him. The intensified gaze of his peepers searing that says he needed your sincere answers.

"This...Legolas you have been calling me," pause. "--- Do I remind you of your previous lover?"

You waited for more additional questions or perhaps a moment where he could tell you that he was just joking around. However, the intimidating, gargantuan monster-slayer who was crouched before you; never said that he was just giving out any jocularity of his previous light-hearted demeanor as he was all brooding again.

He fervently stared you down, making you shift on the floor as you looked up into his eyes; mirth surrounding the windows to your soul when he didn't budge after you've given him an guileless beam, "Yeah. Pfft. Earth also has their own witcher slash elves---What? Oh my God, this is funny."

Geralt is all wordless and silent; awaiting for whatever explanations you could give him and you couldn't help but ask in a skeptical manner; bizarrely gasping for his seriousness.

"Wait, you're actually---stop giving me a scowl! I never had...one? He's a Lord of the Rings character and I swear to God, he is fictional---Not real! Though, he looks like you because the hair and such---but---" you've jumped from one thought to another, feeling the scrutiny under his gaze and obviously nervous that he appeared to look like he would grab his sword and look for the man to behead him. Though, it will never happen due that Legolas was entirely fictitious to even start.

You ceased yourself from trying to explain the background story of Legolas for Geralt. Your nerves getting the best of you whenever you were being interrogated. An exhale of breath escaped your lips as you took a good look at the grimacing witcher before witlessly reaching onto his face with your palms on either side of his chiseled face as you gave him your best doe-eyes, sweetly trying not to coo at how his brooding demeanor actually makes him look fetching nevertheless.

"Stop being mad at me," you buttered his silence up with a tender tone of yours and the way he scrunched his nose and appeared to be looking bizarre tells you that your sweet-talking was cringe-worthy because of how you probably never knew how to simmer a man's troubled day.

Or he was just not used to gentleness.

You've retracted your hands away from Geralt's face and tried your best in avoiding those questioning and bemused eyes of his as you abruptly stood on your feet, shamefully rubbing your nape as you had yourself wincing from the second hand embarrassment of treating Geralt like he was some soft baby, reminding yourself to never do it again, "I am embarrassing myself,"

At the time you've stood up, Geralt also has been on one's feet. He didn't mean to look at you weirdly as you've cupped his face with that tender gaze inside your eyes. When the moment your delicate fingers brushed his, he felt as if he was in utopia. The man wasn't just used to intimate touches especially your caresses that felt like Gossamer.

Geralt just wasn't used to people treating him like he was actually human instead of someone who deserved to be treated differently.

Only Renfri, Yennefer and you had this effect on him. Though, with yours seemed to be much stronger.

Your panicking state urged you to flee from his presence, but the witcher wasn't going to let you go that easily as he'd caught your wrist; gently pulling you as your back hit the wall. Both hands and fingers scooping your neck like a baby chicken he'd caught and decided to take care of as his his warm touch skimmed till his thumbs brushed against your jaw, carefully urging you to peer up into those amiable gazes he successfully tries to give.

"I'm not mad." he dearly reassured, his small smile bringing your heart into euphoria because he was much more beautiful this way; smiling as if the world hasn't condemned him with an ill-fate of being a witcher.

Your beams were difficult to fight off; immediately giving him a smile as he also did as well. Chiefly, only giving you the sight of his crinkled eyes. His thumbs tenderly caressing your jaw which coaxed you to calm down from being fidgety which was totally a good medicine because your nervous jitters actually ceased with just his gentle touches.

You've grabbed onto his hand, memorizing his soft features as it was ever been a rare sight. Never believing he was acting the way he right now towards you. Your fingers brushing against his hands like a feather tickling the witcher's sanity.

Before another utter cockblocker slash disturbance came trudging up the staircase and somehow found you both in an heartfelt position; with Geralt cradling your face like no other.

"Oh! Ughm, this is a rare sight." Jaskier ceased his steps, midway through the hall, the bard's growing grin seeming to give you jitters as his ridicule began, "---and the small rat has been sexually frustrated, Geralt!"

You just wanted to strangle him sometimes.

"Cot damn it, Jaskier! SHUT UP!" you exclaimed, totally flustered as Geralt dropped his hands to the side; looking between you and Jaskier in ponder; those eyes of his full of curiosity, "You're...?"

"I AM NOT FEELING SMUTTY!"

If only you could dig and cover yourself up from the embarrassment, you would.

"---Smutty."

"You get my point, Geralt! I know you do!"

Geralt had his forehead in a tight wrinkle, thoroughly thinking what you meant; though, he understood none because the word seem to be peculiar, "Midget."

Jaskier exhaled an exasperated breath, dramatically rolling his eyes as he waved you both off and curved right pass between the both of you, entering his chambers to grab onto some clothes because he wanted to bathe.

The bard pointed a finger as he walked off, his hips swaying as he does so and never looking back, "She needs some nightly penetrating! You're welcome, witcher!"

Geralt watched Jaskier leave, an amused pucker of his lips was the answer to your questions that he certainly understood everything now and cocked his head to the side, peering you down as he awaited for an explanation. Yet, all he saw was you covering your blushing face with a guilty, forced smile as you washed your face in frustration to give him your regretful eyes.

"Don't listen to him," you quoted and begged for him to just take the bait.

Nevertheless, you've seen him raise a hand; about to start talking about being one horny woman for him when you've stopped him midway and tried to shift the topic away, "Anyways, I forgive you, Geralt. Now, can I braid your hair?"

The witcher closed his ajar mouth, humming in wonder as he dropped his hand to the side; narrowing his gaze at you, "I wasn't asking for any of your forgiveness."

You've blinked back at him, jutting your lips together as you looked away, tone teasing and slightly threatening, "You sure that's your final answer? No regrets?"

Geralt roughly puffed out a breath, muttering profanities beneath his chest, "Fuck." and another grunt because he'd remember how he still wasn't forgiven by yelling at you for last night, "---Fine. Do I have a choice?"

Your smile turned into a knavish grin, wanting him to regret why he even agreed to whatever plans you have for him as you bluntly answered.

"No."

The one you had in mind, planning for a simple diversion for Geralt to erase the horrid truth that Jaskier has told out loud for him to hear was actually another rabbit hole that had caught your feet, catching you going far down the pit like you have been scammed. Clearly, because Geralt's unwitting deep groans and hums has made you hot and bothered every time you've tried combing his hair along his snowy locks.

You were wincing every time he has his nose flaring whenever your fingers thread along his hair, the knots giving his head a rough yank from how you were trying to untangle those knots.

Geralt sat on the floor; his arms on either side of the bed. With you who sat on the bed and your legs criss-cross behind his impressive, thewy back; tempted to just give him a big hug because he seemed so comforting but chose not to based on how grouchy he became once you've combed his hair with your fingers.

You didn't even know if he was irritated or somehow liking the whole situation because he was deeply growling, groaning and eventually having to hear a slip of guttural, restrained whimpers that caught your ears. Enlivening that cravings and curiosity you had for some human touch.

"Midget..." he grumbled another complain and lowly warned, hearing the baritone growl he'd ought for you to hear which made you ignore his protests as you had your own protestations as well, "Stop complaining. Also, don't you own a comb? Your hair---It's---Oh! I'm sorry! Can you please stop growling and moaning at the same time!"

His head was minimally pulled back because of your reckless combing. Your nose scrunched even more as you'd received another menacing hum that tells he was close to hitting your face with a pillow because of how rough you were taking care of his hair. It's not that you weren't rough, but the locks in his hair was frustrating you to the highest.

"Hmm."

You subtly leaned down, sneaking your head to the side of his face to see his expressions void of emotions. The typical Geralt whom you've met as he felt your presence nearer, he'd turned his head to give you a lackadaisical look in his eyes that tells that you were stressing him out.

Your eyes twinkled apologetically as you had no problem in receiving a glare from the fussed out witcher. "Well, that sounds like a displeased hum," you stated as a matter of fact, shrugging your shoulders before straightening your spine and grabbing onto his Ivory roots again, "---and a different kind as well,"

He sighed in defeated, letting you handle his hair in spite as he simply closed his eyes. There was no more backing out as he was now sat in front of you, hair all untied as you've threatened to cut his hair with a scissor you've managed to have that was sat beside you.

"Bad kitty! You're liking this, aren't you? You like your hair being pulled!"

No answer was received and you left it at that. Thinking that maybe he wanted silence as you went on with brushing his hair with your fingers. Now, all gentle as the tangles were already free from the knots. It was certainly improvement; in Geralt's side because he stopped complaining after you scolded him so and quietly waited for you to finish; showing like he trusted you with his hair or whatever.

With a gentle tuck of his hair behind his ears, the witcher was all putty on your hands. Hearing a low rumble that resonated off him in pleasure and satisfaction because of how your touch was sending torment to the cravings he had for you.

Hence, his patience and respect he had for not throwing you over the bed and just relishing in with those insatiable desires he had for you needed and deserved an applause because of his high-capacity to resist the mania.

His appetite was surely in a famished mayhem as he breathed in slow and deep, your gentle touches that raked through his roots and his cravings growing more and more uncontrollable with each passing day and night.

Maybe, the scar you had on your chest had effects. Lewd effects for the both of you.

After minutes of comfortable---well, aching moments for Geralt; you've heard him mutter through gritted teeth in the midst of his slow breathing, "I'm not a cat."

You were already at the ends of his Ivory hair, simply braiding them in perfection as you objected, "But, you are! My grumpy kitty!"

There was no response again and you focused on braiding his marvelous hair and let the silence flow. You were actually just hearing him breath as it also calmed your nerves; a bewildering occurrence on how one's breathing could simply put you in peace.

You've grabbed onto his black ponytail which seemed to be owned by Cirilla and tightly tied onto the ends. Small hairs that seemed to not be possible in tying them down were imperfectly out of its nest; though, the ruggish effect it gave was actually making it look perfect for him.

"There! Done!" you mirthfully exclaimed, giving out a tiny tee-hee before you recklessly surrounded your arms around his musclebound shoulders. The irresistible urges just telling you to cease from being shy even just for today and be more of your unshackled self; stepping out of your timid borders every once in a while. It surprised the witcher with your touchy-feely attitude as his body went stiff when you've embraced him from behind, "See? I told you! You'll still look beautiful with your hair braided! Now, payment time, mister!"

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, clicking his tongue as he tried to find any words to say from your hasty, sweet gestures while he was not one who is used to receiving such care. Geralt had no words to say, his mind going in a haywire as he suddenly saw your palms in front of his face, begging like a peasant with your face nuzzled to his side as he weirdly stared at your palm.

"You want coins?" he skeptically questioned, your warmth and scent crashing his ability to think straight. You've dropped your arm around his shoulders, your actions seeming to surprise you as well but you paid no heed and just wanted him closer; his warmth insatiable as you hugged Geralt tighter. Your warm touches giving his body to adjust and be used to it as you felt him slowly relaxing against your hold.

You peeked from the side of his face, giving him a twinkle of those vindicated eyes as he languidly turned his head to see you giving such a naive look that he couldn't help but be fond of everyday. If it would take his hair to be braided for you to sweetly look at him like how you do right now; he would take the risk on letting his hair get yanked, "I don't know. Whatever payment you have in mind---I would love it,"

Faces were inches apart. You've seen the way his eyes glow in sudden mischief. His risquè suggestion making your heart warm in a way that got your ravenousness fueled as your face felt the blush and sudden excitement, "The one I have in mind is quite unseemly for your chastity,"

You gave a giggle, always loving how he'd intensely stare into your eyes like you've given light to his darkness; that type of glow inside his eyes that got your insides churning whenever he does, "Aren't you playful and naughty today, Geralt?!"

Geralt gave a tight-lipped smile; knowing you wouldn't accept his ravenous suggestion because of particular things he knew about. The witcher knew he wasn't wrong, he can never be wrong by what he was sensing.

However, a rare smirk was promptly shown, the ingenuous flicker inside your eyes changing in just a snap of one's fingers as it turned suggestive and playful, "What if I actually want that?"

It was what your heart wants and what those voices inside your head has been whispering. The mere idea of Geralt defiling your chastity that you have been treasuring because no other men deserved was utterly thrilling and worth it.

Not because of the thought that he was striking, but he was the only man you've wholeheartedly trusted and probably have given your heart like he was a king no matter how unsure of what you were in his life.

Closer and closer, you went in for the kill. Just his golden peepers alone was enough to pull you into a hypnotizing trance as you closed the space between you both, landing your lips to his in a soft, birdsweet peck that got you insides melting and the desire rapidly coming back in scorching flames, "I thought you wanted to indulge my curiosity all night long?"

Your words were temptingly drawled slower as your warm breath hit those ajar lips of his, an impenetrable haze in his eyes that suddenly brought uncertainty to what Geralt actually meant the last time you had the bathroom moment, your sudden confidence kind of wavering but still you've wanted to see how he was fond of you the way you also had your affections for him, "When I told you I was curious, it’s true, Geralt."

You've brushed your lips together and felt the witcher sigh before you had given one last honeyed kiss to his lips in which Geralt had puckered back, raising your hopes that he was solicitous about you.

'More,' his consciousness and emotions echoed, kissing you back with the same tenderness you held for him. He seemed like he was about to deepen the kiss; breathing through his luscious lips before you've felt the pillowy vermillion brush against yours as he abruptly ceased, hearing him lowly growl as he kept the tip of his nose, touching yours in an eskimo kiss before slowly pulling away to your disappointment.

The hesitation of wanting to deepen the kiss shot a sting to your heart; your overthinking self reading his actions that you've misunderstood his feelings that it was downright doting because you were head over heels for him after quite sometime.

But, hearing his next words immediately brought a weight down your chest, feeling the ineptness, dismay and shame for even suggesting lechorous behaviors that made you feel shameful because you think that it was rejected; thinking he rejected you.

He bedded tons of women. So, what makes you different?

You probably just weren't worth it.

"You don't mean that," Geralt lowly grumbled, his robust shoulders moving from how deeply he was breathing; ceasing himself from doing anything more further as the witcher continued to dispassionately utter, "---I don't deserve it,"

You hardly ignored the shame trying to strangle you into feeling such tightness around your throat as you unlatched your arms around his shoulders, skeptically eyeing the witcher who avoided your eyes, "What do you mean you don't deserve it, Geralt? You do,"

Were you desperate? Was the irresistible sensations making you act this way? Maybe. Howbeit, you would never regret every little thing you do for Geralt because it was what your heart has been telling you to do and not just your impulsive decisions.

Yet, the more he'd talk; it felt like as if the only thing you would regret was asking him what he meant.

Geralt heavily swallowed, jaw tightening as he apathetically muttered, "I'm guessing it's the Djinn's work that is talking,"

His response to your question ignited such ferocity inside your heart, shooting straight to your mouth as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Did you misunderstood everything he has said when you were important to him? Deeply thinking that him and you were actually in the same page when his gestures and words right now seem to be the opposite?

"Are you saying that what I feel about you isn't true?" you questioned in disbelief. The scoff automatically being done as you've seen the tight scowl that Geralt has managed to put up again, "---That it's all...magic? The thing happening between us?"

You've tightly bit the insides of your cheeks, watching him stay silent and cease from opening up to you as he went on in avoiding your gaze and looking like he was the one who'd been rejected when it was you.

Thus, a continuation of your vulnerability went on despite of his stillness, your honesty probably will rue once it was said and done, "---before the Djinn even happened, you've been clouding my mind since then," a breathless pause. "---Since the first day I've been here, it felt like I was bound to fall for you, Probably, because the reason why I'm here is because...you are also here,"

Your candor has gotten the best of you and when Geralt was about to open his mouth for whatever that he wanted to say, your anxiety has managed to take over as you stood up from the bed in haste, feeling your palms tickle in humility from how everything that has been planned went down the hill because you misunderstood everything.

"Midget---"

You tightly swallowed the tightness stuck in your throat, finally feeling his gaze on you but you chose to look away; eyes now downcast as your toes fidgeted inside your boots, voice cracking when the apprehension was starting to take a toll as it was harshly plucking with your heart strings, "It's fine. We're just probably not on the same page yet and I understand why. Who would want me even?"

Geralt has been ruffled by your sudden assumptions, yet he chose to stay silent and be upset by whatever lies he'd been hearing; only having the actions to grit his teeth together as you restlessly tried your best to steer clear of your own dismayed feelings.

You shuffled on your feet, briskly walking towards the door before giving him a faltering gaze of yours as you awkwardly pointed at his perfectly braided hair while you stammered and tried to get a hold of yourself from the mortifying, stinging shame, "It's probably just...the genie effects doing these effects on me---I'll go apologize to Jaskier or something---Don't take that off, okay?!"

Hence, Geralt could only watch you leave as it was obvious that he'd upset you by his complicated behavior. Thus, leaving his heart stinging as well; feeling the same way as you.

Y’ALL ARE PROLLY CURSING ME FOR MAKING AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER 13.1 AHONHONHONHON XD (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, buddy! Please do check your settings, bb! Thank you!)

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @winter-moons​ @cheesecakeisapie​​ @silverkitten547​​​ @angelofthorr​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum​​ @stuckupstucky​​

[steve0discusses]

S4 Ep38: Awkward Hugs Episode

Remember how excited I was about the good storyboarder? Well this episode has the opposite of that. It looks a lot like they hit some sort of crunch and this entire episode got shipped to Singapore so that some other animation studio could deal with their problems. It’s got some jank.

And like listen, animation is hard, there’s a billion moving plates, there’s a lot of office politics and deadlines, this season in particular is very long and complicated, and I don’t know exactly what happened this episode, but it just...wow it’s a lot funny poorly animated moments and I was here for it.

So first off, Dartz died! I didn’t even cap it because it happened so quickly. He was standing there, a portal opened up, and then the Great Leviathan kind of munched him up in 3 frames of animation, and then dissolved away back into the portal. It was card shenanigans anyway, and I don’t go over card games here--just trust me he played cards, he lost, he died.

Once Dartz died, this happened, in the one place Roland thought he was safe.

Roland has spent a good amount of this time debating whether or not to go inside and now he’s got a situation. Is it safer in Soul Hut than...whatever this is?

I wouldn’t know either.

So he just decides to uh...look directly at it while everyone else deals with orb hell.

The three knights of Atlantis decide to revive the respective owners of their cards.

So Pegasus just has to sit back, relax, and find some other unsuspecting orb person to share his fanfiction deep cuts with.

PS, that was not an exaggeration on the lazy PowerPoint spiral-in transition--this episode was a marvel of “Oh crap we ran out of time!” last-ditch effort animation and I approve.

(read more under the cut)

And if you thought they were done being orbs now that we’re on a physical mortal plane--nah.

This is the closest Pharoah and Yugi have ever gotten to a physical hug. Just throwing it out there that this is the only time they’ve touched in any way as two separate entities. Also--I like that this is the same way Yugi holds his necklace when he’s talking to Pharaoh. Cute little parallel there.

And as I mentioned, there were a lot of people just hugging it out as if it’s the last episode of the season. First off, one of the most huggy people on this show, which I’m still surprised is the Kaibas.

(he did legitimately pretend to be asleep by the way, because as he was spiraling out of hell he was like “whaoooahahhh”)

So I guess if Mokuba, Tristan, and Tea woke up without being orbs first, then that really does mean they never died 2 episodes ago.

Fine. This is fine. I’ll append my headcanon.

...so Dartz really was just so tired of them that he decided to make them take a nap, huh? That Mokuba was so annoying he was just like “I’m turning them off ok? Not like OFF off, not killing them or anything, that would be rude--I just don’t like small one.”

Meanwhile Tea has a Yugi appreciation moment where she’s reunited with her very confusing relationship. Which is how she likes it best. Undefined in nearly every sort of way. A relationship made entirely out of subtext.

(and honestly, relationships made entirely out of subtext is like 75% of the teen dating experience, which I may have mentioned before, but I do not remember if I have because 2020 has wiped my memory of just so many things.)

I vocally, out-loud, went “Ahhhh!” at the screen because I FORGOT how big his eyes are. They are so wild usually, but with the animation B-team at the helm, I was just not ready for the eyes to return. Yugi’s eyes are just...an abomination in every way and I forget when I see them consistently. I get used to them, I get over it...But when I go an entire season without these hell eyes staring directly at me every five seconds, then it’s like I’ve seen them for the first time.

I’m glad he’s back but man his eyes.

Those eyes.

Anyway, on for some more awkward hugs. First off, Yugi’s visceral reaction to his pretty-much-a-wife-at-this-point giving him a...hug?

(she’s kneeling, by the way. Bro mentioned that it looks like she picked him up and held him entirely by the neck--that would have been great, and I would never doubt Tea’s strength, but she had the decency not to do that.)

And then to Yugi’s just overall confusion to whatever Joey Wheeler defines as a hug.

I am 5 feet 0 inches tall, much like Yugi, and can confirm that yes, some people do hug me like this.

This type of hug should be illegal, it’s very disorienting.

Then, Yugi got to do what he does best.

The FIRST THING he does from coming back from death is immediately hold back information. Mm. Yugi at his finest.

At the point that you’d assume that someone in this room would indicate that maybe this hell vortex is like...a situation...Roland comes in the room screaming for Kaiba to come outside and tell him what the hell to do with his life.

So they go outside and the city of Atlantis is popping out of the sea and flying directly into the air--which...sure, it doesn’t really go in the air usually...but I’ll take it.

And in case you’re like...wait, I thought Atlantis was in California, not in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, don’t worry, it’ll get even more confusing later on.

Also, this happened.

Most of the human race freakin died so like...not sure what we should be concerned about here. Gotta get that one last guy in Florida to board up his house, I guess.

I like that Tea is contractually obligated to beg Yugi to stay behind so she doesn’t have to live without him when...it’s like...Tea, your relationship is already a big ass question mark, and Yugi actually dying did not even mean you were living without him. He’s been around this whole season as Pharaoh, my dude. You have the only boyfriend who will not only never officially date you but will also officially never go away.

So like...earlier in the season it was mentioned that Florida had the pieces of Atlantis shoved in a museum so like...is Atlantis off of Florida now? Because the Battle of Atlantis was in the Bay Area, and Dartz lives in San Francisco, and they went on a helicopter and flew out to the sea so...

We GOTTA be in the Pacific, right?

Anyway, it could be that they’re worried it’ll hit the East Coast of Japan--which, yes--it would. That would also be way more pertinent to our cast of people who live in Japan, it’s just that if you’re doing a show in English that takes place in the USA and you say the “East Coast” it only means New York.

I don’t think the translation team got the memo, it was a very weird line.

Tea wishes Yugi luck instead of Pharaoh for once, and Yugi was like “I don’t know why you want to talk to me instead of the version of me with the fine ass.” and his confusion was kind of cute, but they didn’t actually go into any more deets than this.

Valon and Mai were almost making out with each other’s dead body like ten episodes ago, so maybe the team felt like they had enough practice to maybe almost approach something happening with their flagship couple? Almost.

But also...Yugi just has no idea that a few days ago Tea was trying to get Pharaoh to talk to her on a Caltrain by talking about wearing little swimsuits on a Florida beach date, and then Pharaoh got so upset he went to the tiny area between trains and started sobbing while punching a wall. Yugi doesn’t know this. I don’t think anyone will ever tell him.

And like...will anyone tell Yugi that Pharaoh woke up in Tea’s bed? Like no one, right? Like no one even knows that happened? The irony of how cautious Yugi is with this relationship after Pharaoh was just slicing and dicing for this entire season is great. It’s also probably unintentional, but I can still laugh at it.

Anyway, inside soul hut, Yugi got a little lost, and then his puzzle started glowing and brought him to the Macguffins from last season. Would have been really inconvenient if these got doused in the sea, honestly, and I don’t think the Ishtars would have appreciated it.

Also, this puzzle sensor would have been really, really useful in S2.

Meanwhile, I think Seto and Joey just stared at this glowy gate of hell thing being all “Do you know what this is, Kaiba? I was dead” and Kaiba being all “Hell if I know, I was also dead, I don’t know what this thing is.” And Joey being like “Well Yugi doesn’t know what it is, he was also dead.” and Kaiba being like “The only one of us alive was the dead guy who lives in Yugi’s imagination?”

And then Joey being like “Also, where the hell are we?”

So, frustrated that this obvious trap was simply too confounding, Dartz decides to explain to our dumb as hell cast what a “door” is.

Where we can then admire the sights of Atlantis! Which is mostly brick buildings and giant gates with snakes on them.

Also it would just be COVERED in dead fish but we’re gonna skip that and save it for what would be an extremely ill-fated Netflix live-action series that they will probably eventually make of Season 4. Netflix can’t help itself, you know it can’t. This is a spicy series. It would be terrible in gritty live action. Make it happen, Netflix.

I feel like the artist was trying desperately to fix Joey’s bangs and I feel that on an emotional level. We all want to fix Joey’s bangs. Why did they stop at Joey?

They find Dartz in some weird Gazebo which...OK. It was a whole lot of weird concept art that I didn’t cap because it’s like...nothing is terrifying about a Gazebo...

I straight up don’t understand Atlantis culture.

So, Dartz decided that he could just...use himself to raise the Great Leviathan. He had only one more soul he needed, and he was just as powerful as Yami--so lets just do it, lets just raise the snake!

MAN I just realized what a euphemism this season is.

Good job, Dartz.

Course this is how he spun his story to us, but he seemed pretty surprised when the Great Leviathan gobbled him up in the first 10 minutes of the episode.

But this is the story Dartz is sticking to. He, himself, will raise the Leviathan, himself, and he is very happy with his decision that he made all by himself. I mean, Dartz has been alive for 10,000 years, and maybe he got bored of immortality.

Dartz could have done this from day 1.

What’s up, Sephiroth? Nice little uh final fantasy thing we’re doing with this lizard’s face. I really can’t unsee these uneven man boobs (like what is that angle?) but it’s fine. Dartz doesn’t need hands or...legs...he’s a dragon now, like he can just bite stuff and fly around and stuff. Can’t be that bad.

But for reals, what is the dragon’s angle here?

what is it gonna DO?

Like after everyone’s dead. Is it just gonna...float around? Fly around outer space? Enjoy the sunrise?

Like what do dragons...DO?

Anyway, I’m sure we’ll never get the answer on why the Leviathan wanted to leave the core of the Earth so stinkin bad, but maybe--just maybe--this season might actually end next episode? Maybe?

Will I actually finish this season in 2020! I might! Y’all I MIGHT!

And for anyone reading these for the first time, here’s a link to read these in chrono order

[eddiesquinnsworld]

Walk The Red Carpet

So this is my first fanfic! So please be kind as I was so nervous to upload this. I haven’t seen any fanfiction that represented us disabled gals so I took the job on as a disabled gal myself. I’m by no means a writer and this is probably terrible. Also I do have dyslexia so I might have missed out a word here or there. 

There’s a bit of swearing in this and mentions of a panic attack but apart from that it’s pure fluff! Enjoy!

Today was one of those days, one where your mind was so chaotic and busy with pointless thoughts. One where your mind was frantically telling you the same unhelpful things constantly. That you were never enough and you’ll never be enough, this was all thanks to your mother because from a young age you were always the last thought, the inconvenience and the girl who fault it was for everything.. you just weren’t enough. You’d been through therapy and counselling multiple times, and it seemed to help calm those intrusive thoughts and you started to become an independent woman who didn’t need no one else.

But the reality was you were a young woman with multiple disabilities which meant you needed more help than you’d actually admit, your dreams had been dashed when your consultant said you were too ill to continue with education. This meant that you spend a lot of time at home with your dysfunctional family constantly checking on you, blood pressure checks, medication to be taken at certain times, physiotherapy to complete and regular hospital and doctors appointments to attend. 

Also being a full time wheelchair user meant all your friends ditched you, because you ‘couldn’t be fun’ as you always had to plan ahead. As somehow not every location is wheelchair accessible, this did piss you off but it not like you chose this life so you just accepted it. Basically you were alone in this world, however you found solace in filming videos and uploading them to YouTube weekly, because it was something you had complete control over and meant you could share your experiences to others. 

You also had gotten to a point in your life where you wanted to start dating again after a 3 year break because up until then the guys you’d talked to took one look at the wheelchair, and either started acting distant or ran a million miles. You couldn’t keep count of how many times a guy had asked you if you could have sex and after that shit show experience you decided to quit the dating game, believing you’d never find your ‘Prince Charming’.

But you thought surely not all guys were pricks, so you started hanging out in bars again to see if Mr Right would walk in. Then if by luck after 3 months of waiting for a miracle, he did. 

It was his ocean blue eyes you saw first glancing at you, that made you blush because he was quite possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Within seconds, he was besides you. “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing alone in a place like this” he said grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “oh you know just waiting for my prince charming” you replied with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. He held out his (rather large) hand for you to shake “Well my name’s Henry and I hope I’ll do for now”

That was 2 years ago, now you’re in the middle of a global pandemic with the love of your life in a cottage in the English countryside. You’d both been together 24/7 for the past 4 months and it had been bliss, waking up together in the morning, baking together, watching Henry play his favourite games and snuggling on the sofa in the evening. However you knew it would come to an end eventually, today was that day.

Henry had been called back to work on the Witcher, you’d visit the set occasionally but you didn’t want to get in the way too much. So you stayed at home and made yourself busy. However this was when your anxiety took over and that one thought crept in your mind again. 

‘You’ll never be enough for him’ 

Tears started to escape your eyes and your breathing started to quicken. A panic attack. You didn’t want to bother Henry on his first day back so you got on the bed and curled in a ball and let the panic attack take over your body, until you heard the front door close and a familiar deep voice “hello darling I’m home” 

Henry looked everywhere for you and called you several times but he got no response, he knew something was wrong instantly. Once he made it to the bedroom door and saw you on the bed, curled up and shaking. 

“Oh sweetheart what’s happened?” He realised straightaway that you were having a panic attack and he also knew exactly what you needed. He laid on the bed next to you moving your head onto his chest and securing you into tight embrace. He learnt from previous attacks that you needed to feel safe and protected, also having seen many of your panic attacks over the last 2 years, he also understood the implications they had on your health. “Darling I need you to steady your breathing or you’re going to pass out on me” 

After 10 minutes your breathing became calmer and slower so you could finally tell him what happened. “I’m so sorry Hen, I’m such a mess. I don’t know what you see in me? Surely you want more than this… more than me” You gestured down your body whilst trying to stop tears falling from your eyes.

He pulled away from you so he could look into your eyes. “I see the most beautiful, intelligent, strong and caring woman I ever met. I watch the way you deal with pain everyday, without complaining and it astonishes me. I see how strong you are by getting out of bed everyday when somedays your body really doesn’t want you too or how you get on with your day making sure everyone else is ok and forgetting about your own needs.” 

You process his words for a minute feeling how they warm your heart but your brain takes over again. “But don’t you want a woman that can actually walk the red carpet with you without all the pity looks and stares. How can I ever be enough for you, ‘the great actor Henry Cavill’, you see what they write about me, they act as if you need a medal because you decided to love someone who’s disabled” 

He seems generally hurt by your words and you can instantly tell you’ve hit a nerve “I’m not the one needing a medal, you are! You are so inspirational to me, I honestly feel ashamed for all the times I moaned when I pulled a muscle when I know you deal with far worst pain than me everyday.”  He pauses for a moment, thinking of the best way to say his next sentence.

“Plus I decided to love you not because you’re disabled but because you wanted to know the real Henry, the man away from the cameras. You fell in love with me as a person not as an actor and you have made me feel love like I have never felt before, I love waking up to your beautiful face every morning knowing that you chose to love me… so if anyone needs the medal it’s you”

“Also just because your legs don’t work properly doesn’t make you any less of a woman to me. Anyone who decides to defines you by your chair, the thing gets you around is shallow and isn’t worth worrying about so let them write what they like, because all that matters is that we love one another… in sickness and in health. Anyway, I’d rather have you by my side on that carpet in your wheelchair with all the looks and stares than some woman who can walk and doesn’t love me and support me like you. They’re only staring because you’re so damn beautiful and they’re jealous that you chose me as your date” You stare at him in awe wondering how you got so lucky.

“That’s how you see me? You know I’m not as strong as you make out right? I love you so much because you’re the first man to see me as person and not as my disability.” 

“Plus what do I need a medal for, loving you is easy, I mean one look at you and two no one has made me feel the love you do. With you I feel ‘normal’ and like I could conquer the world. You know I love supporting you, walking that carpet with you knowing my boyfriend is so talented at what he does, but I just worry, I sometimes take the spotlight because the tabloids seem to focus on ‘Henry Cavill’s disabled girlfriend’. That’s why I thought maybe you’d like to have someone that could actually walk” You look down as your eyes well up again. You can feel your anxiety bubbling up inside you. Henry places his finger under your chin to lift your head up.

“I mean I think walking can be a bit over-rated anyways. Plus as I said most of the women I’ve been with who could walk don’t have your massive heart and kindness, so I think I’d rather show you off as my girlfriend” You both chuckle as he wipes your tears away. You grab his hand bringing it to your lips as you look into those ocean blue eyes you fell in love with.

“You really think the world of me don’t you and that makes you the most amazing man I’ve met. I’m glad I met you in that bar 2 years ago because you’re the best thing to happen to me” 

“Yes I do because to me you are ENOUGH” 

Insomnia

[oswildin]

A Promise ~ Dhawan!Master x F!Reader

~ I’ve been watching Eastenders, and the abuse storyline they’ve been running (Chantelle’s and Whitney’s) inspired me to write this. I hope nobody takes offence, I want to empower women (and men out there) that you need to walk away from toxic people. Whether it’s a partner, family member or friend. You are worth more. This is an important topic to talk about. Of course, I do not condone murder, just to put that out there.

Also I haven’t done a taglist due to the sensitive nature of the fic. ~

Warnings: Abuse, some heavy stuff, please don’t read if it could possibly trigger you. And if you are suffering through something like this (emotional or physical) please stay safe, and reach out for help. I know it’s hard, but you are worth so much more. Speak Out ❤️

Summary: The Master decides to help you.

You’d tried to stay away from your home as long as you could; looking for anyone who was about to meet you, or anyone who needed a hand with anything... But to no avail. Even the Master was busy. You didn’t want to go home. It didn’t even feel like home anymore. He had made you feel that way.

The Master had begun to notice differences in you. Whenever he would get angry, you would flinch, whenever he would suddenly move, you would back away. He also noticed how you weren’t so argumentative to him anymore. You used to fight back, argue against his motives and decisions, but now you just let him do what he wanted. It was very unlike you.

He had noticed you would also distance yourself every few weeks or so, telling him you were ill, or busy, or away with family. It was getting suspicious, and routinely, which made him wonder whether you didn’t want to travel with him anymore. So, of course, he granted your wishes, as he stayed away. Finally doing what he was told.

You arrived home, closing the door behind you as you felt a shiver run down your spine at the silence that filled the house. You used to relish in silence, now it was the one thing you dreaded. You instantly shrunk as you entered the house, placing your keys down as you slowly walked down the hallway. You didn’t dare call out. You hoped he was out. But of course, life never did go in your favour. You jumped as you heard a glass smash from the kitchen as you recoiled. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you entered the room. There he was. You could feel the anger radiating from his body.

“Where have you been?”

He questioned, eyes glaring at you as you tried to remain calm. You licked your lips nervously.

“I was helping a friend.” You told him softly. “They, they er, needed someone to watch the kids.” You lied, hoping it wasn’t obvious. He hummed in thought as you began to remove your jacket. “I thought I could make us dinner. Or buy takeout. Whatever you prefer.” You tried, looking at him the whole time. “Maybe, watch a movie... Or some rubbish TV show.” You shrugged, laughing lightly as he gave you a tight smile.

“Who’s M?”

You froze, as you looked down to see your phone in his hand. Crap. You thought you’d lost it at work. Turns out you had left it at home. You furrowed your brows, shrugging.

“A friend. He’s someone I used to travel with.” You said casually. Wasn’t really a lie.

“Why did he text you this morning?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. “I believe he said ‘I’ll pick you up at 7:30.’” He quoted as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Why would he say that?”

“I said I’d meet him for a catch up.” You told him, trying to keep your voice steady. “I haven’t seen him in a while.” You tried to explain, but he wasn’t having any of it. He slammed the phone onto the ground as you flinched back, grimacing as he stomped down on it. You felt tears burning your eyes.

“And you weren’t going to tell me?!” He shouted, causing you to back away as he stepped closer.

“I-I forgot.” You insisted, as he came closer. “I promise. I forgot! I wasn’t even going to go.” You exclaimed, trying to calm him down. “I want to stay in with you.” He laughed, but not genuinely.

“Oh really?” He raised a brow.

“Yes! Of course! I love you.” You forced out. It wasn’t true. You hadn’t loved him for months. He’d become a monster. And not the kind you could fix, or love through his pain... the kind that you knew you had to walk away from. But for some reason, you couldn’t. Every time you wanted to leave, he would apologise, beg you to stay, make you feel guilty. It was toxic.

“Don’t lie to me.” He growled, as he came face to face with you, inches away. “How long has this affair been going on? Hmm? Months?! Years?!” He cried, as you jumped at his words.

“There is no affair!” You exclaimed, shaking your head. “I promise, please, please don’t do this.” You felt the tears fall. Unfortunately, he didn’t listen. He went to lunge at you, but you quickly moved out of the way, breathing heavily as he continued to try and grab you. You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t. You grabbed the nearest object, a large cooking pan, as you turned, yelling in anguish as you hit him. Everything went too fast. You didn’t even think about it. You dropped the pan as you covered your mouth in shock, fear... He laid on the ground, unmoving as you furrowed your brows. You tried calling his name, but nothing.

You leant down, turning him over as you noticed blood on his forehead, staining the floor as you recoiled back, shuffling yourself away. What had you done? Everything went silent once again, your mind blanking out the littlest of sounds. And finally, in your mind, you felt peace... No, this was wrong. You had just killed a man. He didn’t deserve it. You cried to yourself as you hugged your legs to your chest. You hadn’t even heard the door opening or your name being called.

The Master instantly heard your muffled cries as he froze at the sound. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He slowly walked down the hallway, your cries getting louder as he rounded the corner, finally seeing you rocking back and forth in a state, before his eyes landed on your boyfriend. He looked back at you as he flared his nostrils, rushing to you. You jumped at the sudden touch, flinching away before you realised who it was. He’d never seen you look so broken.

You held onto him, crying into his chest as he held you close. Usually, he would push you away, tell you to shut up, but this time was different. It was then he noted how your shirt had been rolled up, revealing your wrists as he saw bruises marked your skin. He felt anger flow through his veins. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had been happening. Eventually, he stood you up, still holding you as he moved you into the living room, out of sight of the body. He was going to fix this for you. He was going to make sure you were ok.

You didn’t know how long he’d been gone. Time stood still. You felt numb, your throat dry from the crying. The Master eventually reappeared, his jacket no where in sight, as his hair looked more disheveled than usual. You peered over at him.

“I’m a bad person.” You whispered. “I killed him.” Your lip trembled, as he clenched his jaw, looking at you with anger in his eyes. He was mad. He hated you. You knew it. Even he hated you. “You should go. You can’t be here.” You told him, before reaching over shakily, grabbing the home phone as he furrowed his brows. He quickly rushed towards you, shoving it out of your hands as he looked annoyed.

“What are you doing that for?” He hissed, shaking his head. “Are you stupid?” He snapped as you looked at him confused.

“It’s going to come out.” You argued. “I’m sure my neighbours heard it all.” You feared. “Oh god, I’m going to go to prison.” You realised, moving your hand over your mouth as you trembled with fear. He sighed, kneeling before you, as his eyes softened ever so slightly.

“No. You’re not.” He told you sternly.

“There’s a dead body on my floor!” You exclaimed as he shook his head.

“No.” He paused. “There was a dead body on your floor.” You furrowed your brows, eyes searching his own for answers. “Everything will be fine.” He promised, as you believed him. You felt safe around him. You felt at home. “He will never touch you again.” He growled. “I’ve made sure of that.” He told you, as you nodded slowly. “(Y/N), he was hurting you.” He said lowly, flaring his nostrils. “He’s was a pathetic, weak human being, a coward of a man...” He spat. “He didn’t deserve you. He got what was coming to him.”

You didn’t believe his words.

You sat on the TARDIS, snuggled on the sofa as you wrapped a blanket round you. The Master approached you, holding out a cup of tea as you gave him a small smile before taking it carefully. He sat on an armchair nearby as he stared ahead, looking away from you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, his voice soft, almost sad. You felt guilty.

“Because... I didn’t want to involve you in my mundane domestic affairs.” You shrugged as he shook his head.

“You should’ve told me.” He stated.

“Then what?” You laughed wearily. “You would’ve gone in there, guns blazing. You would’ve killed him instantly.” You swallowed the lump in your throat at your own words. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “Besides, it wasn’t your fight to handle.” You told him, taking a sip of your drink.

“Doesn’t mean you had to deal with it alone.” He glanced at you, as you saw the pain in his eyes, hearing the sincerity in his voice.

“What did you do with him?” You hesitantly asked, raising a brow. He sniffed before pursing his lips.

“Don’t worry about that.” He told you. “Just know he’s very very far away, floating somewhere no one will find him.” You bit your lip.

“People are going to ask where he’s gone...” You paused. “What about his family?” You asked numbly. “What do I tell them?”

“You tell them he ran away.” He ordered. “You tell them, you told him to leave. You tell them what a sad little pathetic human he was. Let them know who he truly was, and how he should be remembered.” He spat, as you felt his rage flowing off of him. You looked down at your drink.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “For helping me.”

“Don’t thank me.” He shook his head. “I did nothing.”

“Stop.” You told him sternly. “You didn’t know. Ok? No one did!” You laughed breathily. “There was nothing no one could’ve done.”

“I could’ve helped you sooner.” He sighed. “I could’ve stopped him. Ended this a long time ago.” He looked you in the eye as you felt your heart beat increase speed. “You shouldn’t have gone through it on your own.” You gave him a small smile.

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like you care.” You teased, as he gave you a brief smile. He stayed silent. Both of you did. It was the first time you enjoyed the silence... In a long time... It was peaceful.

It had been a few months since the incident. You were still struggling. You knew it was going to take time. Guilt was still eating away at you and the memories of your time with him still haunted you. You couldn’t help but remember the good times, the rare moments. Yet, when you were asleep, all you could replay was the bad times, leading you to have little sleep in fear of the nightmares. Having to relive it every night was horrific. Eventually the Master helped you with that, as he noticed the dark circles around your eyes and your tired gaze. He managed to block off that part of your brain, allowing you rest at night.

You were surprised at how helpful the Master had been. Not that you didn’t think he was capable of such acts of friendship, but more that you didn’t think you were worth it. Or rather that he thought you were worth it. You appreciated his subtlety around the situation. He wouldn’t outright show affection or comfort to you, but he would ensure you with looks that he was there if you needed. You wondered how he carried on with his life. He wasn’t exactly the most moral man, having killed probably hundreds... But then again, you were different. You definitely didn’t approve of his choices or actions; but you definitely didn’t think of yourself as having the moral high ground.

You noted even his anger had subsided. Well, at least that’s what he showed you. He wouldn’t raise his voice as often, he would pre-warn you before he had bouts of frustration or annoyance, just incase it triggered you. You couldn’t help but feel thankful for it.

Overtime you got better. Of course, it would always stay with you, but you knew one day it would all be a bad memory. And you would never let anyone ever treat you the way that man had treated you. The Master helped you realise you were worth more. Although he would take cheap shots at your species, he would always tell you, you could do anything and deserved the best.

Eventually, you found yourself falling for the alien. You didn’t know when or why or even how, but it just happened. One day, you stared at him for a second too long, and you just felt right. You felt at home. Of course, panic was your first response. You were just a human. It was too soon. You didn’t deserve love yet, you hadn’t served your sentence for your action. You managed to push it away for as long as you could, but it began to hinder your every day activities and interactions with the Timelord.

Of course, the Master was oblivious to your lingering stares and small smiles whilst watching him. What you didn’t know was he was the one that didn’t feel worthy. He felt like he didn’t deserve to be loved. He had harboured feelings for you for quite some time. He’d never show it, or tell you. Especially not now. You deserved the best, and he wasn’t that.

“Hey.” You smiled softly at him as he sat in his usual chair in the console room. He glanced over at you as you approached him, giving you a slight smile. “What you reading?” You asked, raising a brow in curiosity, glancing at the book in his lap.

“Just some rubbish I found on the shelf.” He shrugged. “Don’t even know how it got there.” He closed it dramatically, throwing it down onto the side table as you looked down at him. “Why aren’t you asleep?” You shrugged.

“Think I’ve had enough of that.” You said quietly, before sitting on the sofa beside him. “What about you? Do you sleep?”

“Rarely.” He waved it off. “Timelords don’t need as much sleep as you humans.” He commented as you nodded at his words.

“Perhaps you’re just not doing enough activity.” You offered. “You need to tire yourself out.”

“I’m not a child.” He argued. “I don’t need to have a run around to have a nap.” He looked at you unamused as you rolled your eyes at him. “Plus I think I do enough of that anyways, don’t you?” He joked as you couldn’t help but laugh lightly.

“I suppose.” You smiled. “Or... You’ve got something on your mind...” You suggested, as his eyes pondered on your own, before he pulled his gaze away, leaving you feeling empty.

“I’ve always got something on my mind.” He casually said. “The curse of having multiple brains.” You furrowed your brows at his words as he gave you a cheeky wink as you shook your head at his antics.

“You’re something else.” You smirked. “Full of surprises you are. Anything else you got multiple of?” You cheekily asked as he looked at you amused.

“Two hearts.” He informed you, as you hummed in thought. ‘Both of them yours’, he thought as he watched you with a small smile on his lips. “I can read minds.” He told you, as you instantly shifted in your seat as he laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, there has to be a link. I haven’t seen your sordid thoughts.” He teased as you gave him a playful glare.

“Why did you help me?” You asked suddenly, out of the blue as he furrowed his brows. He took a moment before shrugging.

“Bit of fun.” He told you. “Always wanted to chuck a person into a supernova.” You shook your head.

“No... Seriously...” You leant forwards in your seat. “Why? You could’ve just... left. But you didn’t.” He pursed his lips. “You always tell me how you don’t care, you don’t interfere in human lives, no matter what. Unless it’s to cause chaos.” You said softly. He sighed.

“Believe it or not, I can be nice.” He told you. “Sometimes, I do the right thing. Maybe not morally by your standard but to my own.” He licked his lips. “Seeing you, in that situation, appealed to my better nature. And I don’t exactly have one of them. So well done for that.” You didn’t say anything, just listening. “Besides, I could’ve done it for my own personal gain. You owe me now.” You raised a brow.

“Is that a threat?” You joked as he smirked.

“No, it’s a promise.”

[delfinodreams]

OKAY i said i would make a post about my thoughts on paper mario a while ago and im finally writing it out

ill put it under a break because its probably gonna be long-ish

update: yea this bitch is LONG

okay so overall i really really enjoyed it!! it was really solid for the first entry in the series and i could definitely see the inspiration that ttyd later took from it. one thing that i didnt know about was partners not having HP, which threw me for a little bit of a loop. partners as a whole in this game don't play as active of a role as i wouldve expected because they have so little lines but using them in battle is still very fun! another small thing but i also hadn't expected mario to be completely silent, but it later grew on me!

i'm also gonna list my experiences and opinions on each chapter so here we go!!

chapter 1 - pretty alright for an introductory chapter! i didnt find anything especially notable, apart from getting 2 partners in one chapter. navigating the koopa bros. fortress was fun, and i loved the battle at the end!! their theme is SUCH a banger i had to sit back and listen to it for a bit when the fight actually started ehe

chapter 2 - not quite a fan of this one imo? i liked the first part through the mountain, but the trek though dry dry desert kinda took it out of me. BUT the addition of my favourite partner made up for it! parakarry my beloved <3 also the cutscene where dry dry ruins rise up??? that shit was SPECTACULAR. i absolutely loved how it turned dark when it first came up, i wish it stayed like that for more than just until you entered the ruins. the boss itself wasn't too exciting for me, probably because there wasnt much of a story?? i dont know how to describe it. actually its like that for quite a few of these bosses, but its the first entry for this series, so i wont fault it too much.

chapter 3 - this might be my FAVOURITE chapter- the suspense buildup throughout the entire chapter was AMAZING holy moly!!! first through the forever forest when you have bootler ask for you, and then wandering the mansion itself. i TOTALLY thought that boos were gonna be actual enemies when i saw them floating around. sneaking around tubba blubba's castle was so so fun to do, and i legitimately panicked when you ran into him in the hall and also when he wakes up and chases you back to the windmill. i didnt actually think the heart itself was the boss, just a miniboss, so i freaked out when i left the windmill and was immediately thrown into a battle with tubba blubba. i cannot express just how much i enjoyed this chapter, seriously!!

chapter 4 - coming back to toad town with the music change threw me for a bit; i wasnt expecting action to pop up so soon! figuring out that you could actually go into the toybox was such a "wait, what??" moment for me, but like, in a positive way. it was really cool to navigate this chapter and the lantern ghost encounter genuinely creeped me out at first because it was COMPLETELY dark. the fight against general guy is also a BANGER i could listen to it all day

chapter 5 - man i LOVE the whale. just a big guy willing to take u across the ocean :^) i really appreciated how you weren't stranded on the island too, like how you were on keelhaul key in ttyd. the ravens are also funky little guys, love them too. again, the lava piranha didnt really have any substance to it BUT it was a nice fight nonetheless! when it popped up again i was shocked but i made it through!! also fuck kolorado he doesnt deserve his wife

chapter 6 - this one's formatting is really neat- one central area with lots of branching paths, which i hadnt seen in my past pm experiences! i loved the quest leading up to the big beanstalk, plus the environment was so pretty!! the little part with the sun tower popped out to me, i'm not sure why though. maybe it was the music, it was so different from the flower fields theme. at first i had actually expected to go up to the clouds earlier, maybe like midway through the chapter. i thought that would be the "dungeon" of this part, so i was a little bit let down when i realized that the fields were the majority. however, the bit of the clouds we do see is SO good i LOVE the atmosphere!! huff n puff was actually relatively easy, using parakarry and lakilester for their all-around attacks. the guitars were a nice touch for his theme as well!

chapter 7 - oh dude i LOVED this chapter. i didnt know what i was expecting when i first went into the pipe in the sewers, whether it would put me into a village immediately or if i would have to make it through some screens before. needless to say, i was relieved when it popped me out into shiver city. the whole place felt "warm" which was really nice!! i was comparing it to ttyd's chapter 7 and fahr outpost which i didn't really vibe with, so it was a nice change! the whole murder plot was also unexpected but i enjoyed the whole "whodunnit" mystery! omg as im typing this i realize just how many aspects of this chapter i love this is gonna be long,, the entire snowy atmosphere is just so PRETTY and starborn valley felt so solitary to the rest of the land, like its own little bubble. i also had no idea that ninjis were in this game so when i saw one at merlon's i was like HUH?? anyways the way up the mountain to the crystal palace kept me on my toes; i thought that was the dungeon at first! the small bit where you see madam merlar and she tells you the story of the palace really got to me i have no idea why. the music and mysticality of it all was just SO good. dont even get me started on the crystal palace itself HOLY MOLY. the whole reflection bit was SO SO clever and the moment you realize its NOt actually a mirror?? fucking magnificent. this has to be my favourite dungeon in the whole game because it has such a NEAT gimmick!! it also has my favourite mario enemies, duplighosts! FUCK the crystal king though. he stunlocked me with his freezing move because i could not get the hang of blocking it. my partners really carried me for that battle; thank god for quick change

chapter 8 - THIS CHAPTER DELIVERED. the buildup for the entire game leading to this point. OUTSTANDING. i had to sit back and admire star haven because its so pretty- did i mention i love the water graphics in this game?? it has a pixelly look but it works SO WELL. going to the ship to take you to bowser's castle really felt like a "this is it" moment. the entirety of bowser's castle was So Good, it kept me on my toes the entire time!! slowly advancing as the music got more intense REALLY pumped me up. tracks that start off with only a couple instruments and eventually add more as you progress is one way to make me go BONKERS. the one bit where you make your way outside on the bridge and the music dials down and then you re-enter on the other side to it SLAMMING you in the face- that was Great. and then the complete silence as you get outside peach's castle HOLY SHIT. and then you actually enter the palace and the music is SO EERIE and youre like OH SHIT THIS IS REALLY IT. seriously, the buildup for this entire castle is done SO magnificently. i hadn't expected to fight bowser twice, i guess it was the game's way of letting u level up One Last Time before u got to the big bad. that being said, i wasn't too worried on getting a game over since i was fucking stacked on items. but that's besides the point- the fight itself got my heart POUNDING. the effects for the star rod and the star's powers were really nice to see in action, and the little section with peach and twink was so cool! i was expecting a little interlude where you would get your stats maxed out because thats how its like in every pm game, but it was still moving :)) bowser's final battle theme fucking SLAPS. the guitar especially sounds AMAZING. you really see him as a threat here and its so badass. his healing move fucked me over multiple times- i probably ended up having to deal with double his base HP over the course of the fight.

after the fight was over and you got to see peach's castle float down with the soft music in the background, it really hit me that its done, its over. again, the effects in this game are so pretty and theyre utilized SO well for the n64. visiting toad town one last time with all the npcs was a really nice touch- for some reason i really loved being able to interact with vanna t. (chuck quizmo's toad assistant) she's ADORABLE and i will probably end up drawing her sometime :)) the credits were also something that i really enjoyed- i LOVE the ongoing theme of parades at the end. seeing everything and everyone in the game condensed into a short 8 minutes really got me, i cant remember but im pretty sure i was smiling the whole time! and a small sidenote- TOADS WITH GLOWING SPOTS ON THEIR HEAD HELLO?????? I WANNA DRAW THAT SO BAD.

the ending screen with peach and mario looking at the fireworks made me really soft and i teared up a little because i was finally finished. the addition of pop diva's solo in the track was also so touching, it was my favourite sidequest in the game so hearing it again brought up Emotions :')

one thing i wasnt sure of was if there was a post-game mode and my completionist heart was disappointed a little when i found out i couldn't advance from the end screen and was forced to reset. although not many games from this era had post-game content so i cant dock too many points for that.

the paper mario series has a fond place in my heart, and finally being able to play the game that started it all really was a special experience. it really cemented my love for the original formula and i could see many places where ttyd took inspiration from. this game really is fun, and i would highly recommend playing it yourself if you have the means!

[talesfrombeyondthebelly]

“Come into my parlor,” Said the spider to the fish.

I know I’m not great at titles but oh well. This is an Eri.Vr.is oral vore fic! Mainly because I’ve been doing some rps and been caught up in the great dynamic they have imo. This is a sfw fic, but again it is a vore fic so if you turn away I won’t be offended. That said, I hope you enjoy and I’m always open to criticism!

There would be an unceremonious sigh that would come from a certain violet blooded sea dweller as he fiddled with the pieces for his latest scheme to exterminate all the land dwellers. Or at least, that would be what he had claimed he was doing, he never truly planned to execute it both due to lack of ambition and the resources. Really, the boasting and bragging about what he planned to do wasn’t as much of a threat as he liked to claim it was, and truly it was more along the lines of a need for attention than any true plans of committal. 

It had been a slow night for one Eridan Ampora, and having wasted most of it attempting to message any troll to either gossip with three of them or spew some rhetoric he didn’t fully believe. But even then, all that was accomplished was that he was being ignored while he vied for attention. All that was left was to stay cooped inside and rewatch old documentaries as he idly fiddled with historical figure memorabilia.

That was, it was all he had to do until someone had decided to free him from his self-isolation.

AG: Heeeeeeeey, Eridan. ::::) 

The sea dweller would squint, he didn’t think his rival would message him after deciding not to message her first. They had broken up when they were six sweeps due to him boring and overbearing; but some time after they turned seven sweeps, Eridan’s attempts to renew their rivalry would pay off after much work and effort. And now they had been going strong even after they hit nine sweeps old.

However, he would roll his eyes at the sight, he knew her innocent seeming spider smile was anything but.

CA: wwhat do you wwant you cerulean blowwhard dont you knoww im busy AG: I’m hurt! After all I went through to check on my dear rival! I would have thought he liked someone giving him attention. AG: Oh well! Guess I’ll just leave you to your devices seeing how you’re *so* busy, CA: god damn it wwait CA: okay maybe i got a bit of an openin in my schedule to wwaste time wwith you AG: Please! The only one who’s going to be wasting their time is me, we 8oth know you’re pro8a8ly doing something 8oring like watching one of your lame documentaries. CA: theyre not LAME theyre goin to be your miserable dirt munchin dowwnfall soon enough AG: Oh???????? 8old claim from you Ampora. Seeing how I know you’re dead wrong. AG: Anyway! You’re coming over to my hive today right? AG: Why am I even asking? You o8viously forgot. CA: i didnt forget i totally fuckin remembered our meeting at your stupid and completely ridiculous hivve AG: It’s not stupid! What’s stupid is the fishbreath who 8uilt his hive surrounded 8y the ocean when he 8arely spends any time in the water. AG: Whatever, just come over. I’m not waiting all day for your dum8ass. CA: ugh fuckin fine CA: you still havvent told me wwhat specifically you wwanted to do ovver there anywway AG : :::;)

And with that, the conversation was brought to an end. Eridan would rub his temples, her purposely vague answer meant any number of things, usually which ended in his embarrassment in one way or the other. Of course, it was better to just go over as soon as possible rather than him wasting time by speculating, even if he did plan to make her wait to purposely be fashionably late. Something to put his pompous attitude on display. Soon enough, Eridan would don his scarf and cape before leaving his hive and embarking on the trip to Vriska’s.

The trip wasn’t terribly long, mainly because traversing through the ocean was far from an issue and her home conveniently overlooked the sea. Even so, Eridan would hold make sure to wait for an extra amount of time for no reason than to uphold the gesture that he was royalty. Feeling accomplished with his amazingly petty task, he would approach the door and knock a few times before waiting for her to answer as he dried himself off as he uncaptchalogued a few towels.

Vriska would answer the door surprisingly quickly, having not had the patience to return his petty actions before pulling him inside and closing the door behind them both. The expression on her face was blatant annoyance, but that was far from the norm regardless if it was actual exasperation or not. Eridan would up look at the other troll with a frown, even since they had gotten older he would find that she had sky rocketed past him in height. He had been a respectable  height of nearly six feet, while she had him beat by additional four feet, much to his unending irritation and to her endless amusement.

“You’re late. Even after I went and so kindly reminded you of our little arrangement. Well, I guess everything’s little to me when you’re short, but the point stands.” “yeah yeah keep braggin vvris i wwas towwerin ovver you before-” “Sure, you had a few inches on me when we were six! But now we’re nine and you’re still short, how do you explain that, hm?” That would cause him to shut up rather quickly, though he would dart his eyes around and attempt to come up with a retort, only to fold his arms and huff soon after. It wasn’t uncommon for trolls to grow as much as she did, but the fact that he wasn’t one of them meant that  discussions of height were biased in her favor. Her ten feet tall favor. His violet eyes would eventually return to her cerulean ones, there had been smile on her face, one that reeked of mischievous intent. Before he could open his mouth to question her intentions, she would cover his mouth with her hand, and some of his face as a natural consequence of the difference in size between them.

“Alright Ampora, shut up for a minute and listen. I had you come over because I had a proposition that’s going to 8enefit 8oth of us. Here’s the deal: You got two minutes to hide somewhere, and I’m going to seek you out. If I can’t find you in 8 minutes, you win! And if you pick somewhere dum8 and I find you, I win! And the loser has to do whateeeeeeeever the winner wants! Sound good? ::::)”

Eridan would try to speak his response, only for Vriska to keep her hand pressed against his face, only pulling back once he felt something wet trail along it. Irritation making itself apparent with a scoff, she would return the favor by grabbing one of his hands, sticking out her tongue and  slowly pressing the wet muscle against the other troll’s hand in a rather long lick before finally letting him go. His hand utterly drenched in saliva, Eridan’s face would scrunch up as he shook his hand dry while a small tinge of violet came across his face. It made her brief taste of him all the more delicious. 

“for fucks sake fine ill WWIN your stupid land suckin game and then wwe can do somethin wway less ridiculous and more dignified afterwwards” His statement was spoken with his usual amount of sea dweller pompous pride, even if the chips were stacked against him. Even so, he held his head up high and puffed his chest out, not about to turn down a challenge that was surely easy enough to win. She had a castle, there must have been plenty of places to hide.

“Good! Now get going Eridan, unless you want to 8e 8oring and lame and make this too easy.” She’d give him a wink, teasing him over her self-assured victory and a lick of her lips. She had no problem hinting at what she wanted to do once she won, it made it fun to see him squirm.

He’d pause for a moment and confidence turned into brief uncertainty in less than a minute, “wwait you mean right noww i havvent fuckin evven gotten to-” He cuts himself off as he sees her turn away and start to count, realizing that she wasn’t even going to wait for him to prepare himself. He’d scramble off, the sea dweller handling himself incredibly well on land even when he’s running around wearing a rather long cape. 

He wasn’t used to hiding as he was often hunting for the sake of Feferi’s lusus, but he would certainly try his hand at it to the best of his ability. Of course, his first two attempts were less than idea, having run to the very bottom of her hive to try and disguise himself by burying himself under her pile of miscellaneous belongings, only to realize he was shifting too much. He’d then decide to try his hand at hiding on one of the upper floors, deciding that hiding behind her pile of treasure would have been an unlikely spot seeing how he resented her various wins against him during their FLARP sessions. Unfortunately, this would prevent him from hiding there for long, as he does grow irritated looking at her spoils and decided to leave before it caused those pitch feelings to flair too much. Ultimately, he would decide to hide somewhere so obvious, Vriska would never think to check. He was confident in this idea, so much so that he decided to take it easy and relax in his new found spot, all he had to do now was wait 8 minutes and win. He means eight.

Vriska, predictably, did not count the entirety of two minutes before she began her hunt. Rather, she stopped once she got to eighty eight and decided that was enough for her. When she turned around, she half expected Eridan to standing right there out of spite and stubbornness about the whole thing but to her delight the violet blood was playing along. The question was where to find him, if she had to guess, it was probably somewhere dumb, like him. And so her very first guess was her trophy room, because of course he would think she’d skip over her own hoard of treasure to look for him. But upon making her way up the many stairs to check, she would find not a hair of him to found. She was a bit annoyed her first guess wasn’t right, but she had extra time to spare and her next guess would most certainly be right.

Except it wouldn’t The next room would be devoid of Eridan, and the next and the next. It would seem that no matter where she searched, he was nowhere to be found, it raise her irritation with him, and with it her hunger. The stomach of the ten foot cerulean would grumble as she briefly put a hand on it and huffed, she had to give her rival credit, he was doing a good job at making her work for this. And here she thought she’d grab an easy snack. But the warranty of it was  wearing off as time passed on, even with her head start, it would seem that Eridan was safe wherever he had chosen to hide. She couldn’t allow this to happen, she had planned for this all to go a certain way, and the fact that it wasn’t was unacceptable. Annoyed, she’d retire to her block for a moment, purely for the sake of trying not to get too caught up and at least try to remain rational about this. Only a minute to go, there wasn’t much time left, and Vriska was certain she had searched about every place there was to offer. Unless...

Without a word, Vriska would approach her wardrobe dresser, there was no way he’d hide in there right? It’d be dumb and stupid and completely ridiculous! Well, she didn’t have time, so she would ultimately waste not a moment more as she ripped open the doors to her wardrobe and... found her prize. Eridan for one was shocked with the sudden burst of light and appearance of Vriska, who apparently been frustrated looking for him. He wishes he could have seen the whole experience, but from the noises she made he got his fair share of entertainment. “8h my g8d, r8ally!!!!!!!! Y8u hid in my wardr88e????????” There was an unending amount of vitriol pouring from Vriska now, irritation at herself and him were flowing freely, and despite Eridan’s surprise, he would waste no time in displaying adjusting himself and nodding, “of course i hid here because i thought youd fuckin ovverlook it seein howw all your attire is plain as SHIT and it wworked just god damn fine seein howw a certain obnoxious glory lovvin troll took forEVVER to find me-” He would step out with a large amount of pride, quite certain he had won, only for his eyes  to dart over to the clock in her room and his face would immediately fall. She had found him with ten seconds to spare. “wwell fuck”

Vriska would try to take a moment to herself to not have too radical an outburst, she was upset, but she also wanted to savor her prize. The expression on Eridan’s face certainly helped “Wwell fuck is right! I win! And that meeeeeeeeans you have to do what I want, and I think we both know what that is.” A chill would go down his spine, while Eridan could be clueless at times, she had given him more than enough hints as to what she wanted. It certainly hadn’t been the first time they had done such a thing, but it was more than a bit embarrassing for him, which made give her some push back on the idea. “are you fuckin kiddin vvris you didnt say anythin about this bein your prize-” “Don’t 8e coy!” She’d interrupt him immediately, taking a step closer to him as he took a step back. “ I made it plenty clear! 8esides! I win, and you agreed to the terms right? It’s only fair I get what I’m promised.” 

Another step forward and he’d take another few steps back and bump into the wall behind him, Vriska smirking as she’d get closer to him, their bodies practically touching as she leaned down towards him and her lips would slowly part, strands of saliva breaking apart as he start down that cerulean abyss, taking a few teasing swallows as she inched closer before letting her warm breath washing over him and fogging up his glasses.  A few drops of drool would fall into his face before she’d close her mouth pull away, letting the situation sink in for the sea dweller as well as calm herself down, she may have had a bit of cerulean tint her cheeks in the same manner violet tinted his. Eating someone in this manner was embarrassing after all, which was why she’d only do it in private, not that she’d ever admit it out loud. Eridan had similarly shared the sentiment on the other side of the spectrum.

While embarrassment would go around on both ends, the sea dweller still contemplated making a run for it; the thought of being consumed always did trigger a fight or flight instinct, regardless of the fact that she probably wouldn’t digest him. Before he can even make an attempt however, his body is kept in place by hands on his shoulders, she had decided that she wasn’t going to give him the chance to scramble off and hide again, “I hope you’re ready, because you’re going to be in there for a while~” She would lean in again, salivating as she brought herself closer yet as her jaws widened to accept her meal. Slow warm breaths would beat against his skin as she drew tantalizingly close, all the while the fish troll would gulp nervously.

Instinctively, he would press his hands against her face as she started to lean in, he wasn’t about to let his hatemate have her meal without at least giving some fight back. One hand on her top lip and the other on her bottom, there’d be some push back as she slowly closed the distance between them yet again, it was a losing fight on his end as the predator drew closer and closer, letting him stare once again into her mouth before her tongue would slide out to press against his face and trail upwards, taking his glasses with it and causing him to loosen his hold. It was all he needed give the spider troll all the leeway she needed. Before he can even think about his mistake, she would jolt forward and wrap her lips around his neck, sealing him inside the jaws of the ever hungry troll. A hum of approval would resonate around the noble of troll royalty, reveling in the taste of victory and her meal, saliva being thoroughly slathered across his face during his various attempts to voice insults and protests. Though that wouldn’t stop him from trying. 

While it was certainly dark in the other’s mouth, being a nocturnal species meant that Eridan could see each and every detail as she made sure to truly make him squirm. It wouldn’t be long before she’d take the first swallow, letting his glasses slide along her tongue before they were unceremoniously pulled down her gullet Of course. with that swallow, he would be brought only a short distance away from the opening in her throat, as his shoulders would be brought in next. Her teeth would be pressed against his clothes to  keep him in place as his struggles and attempts to free himself grew stronger despite the situation going in the opposite direction for him. Her tongue would waste no time in running over the formerly dry parts of the troll, drenching the top of his shirt as drool as she decided to move on with her meal and take the gulp that would trap him inside her throat and bulge it out with his struggling form.

His head now captured in a pulsating throat, Vriska can continue her meal in confidence he won’t wiggle out. Her hands would move to keep his arms pinned to his sides as she moved further down his body, a hum flowing freely as she continued this consumption of him. Drool would pool in her mouth and dripping down as his chest was next to slide between her jaws as Eridan was tugged further down her throat, slightly bulging it out as he defiantly tried to move it around. Her tongue was relentless in running along the fabric she brought into her mouth, it was a bit tasteless and bland, and she regrets not shredding the shirt when she had the chance, but she ultimately makes do. Mainly by lapping at the shirt to lubricate it before taking another swallow, sending him further down the slimy gullet.

Her lips and fangs now reach his hips, and his stomach is safely contained within her mouth. Now she could have a bit more fun with him. Her tongue would curl under the bottom of his shirt to gain access to his skin yet again, an unadulterated groan escaping her to make it well known how much she just enjoyed this feeling, the noises ringing through his ears amidst his own grunts and swears. She’d stop her swallowing for a moment, reveling in the taste and wanting him to squirm a bit longer for her and attempt to fight back against the intrusive tongue as it rubbed against him,  only to end up rubbing his body more against the wet muscle, her taste buds gets all the flavor she could ever want. What probably gets the biggest reaction from her is when she gives attention to his grub scars, which are oddly enough, pretty delicious for a reason she couldn’t quite explain. But they do elicit some sounds from Eridan was well, mainly increasingly flustered insults as he keeps kicking wildly. It was quite enjoyable a feeling if she were to be honest.

While she could have kept slathering, lapping and sucking on him for a considerable amount of time, a sudden loud growl would emerge from her stomach, reminding her that she was quite hungry still. And so, she’d wrap her hands around his legs to keep them still as the next series of gulps condemned the violetblood to his fate. There would be only the briefest moment where she would remove his shoes before finally sealing the deal, tracing the last of the troll’s form down with one hand as she pushed him down to her stomach. A long sigh would come out of her as she laid on back and massage her now bloated stomach. It was a lot of work to get him down and she was blue in the face, but she had done it. She could feel him fighting and hear his complaints both of which were more than annoying when she was trying to relax, but damn, it was always satisfying to do this. 

 Eridan, for his part, always had conflicting feelings about this. His face flushed violet and his entire body was absolutely drenched in ever warm saliva, it and he was now surrounded by a brilliant shade of blue that made up her stomach walls. He attempt to push and stretch it to its limits and cause her indigestion as a form of revenge, but all he would be met with was a few gurgles as the stomach churned around him. Luckily, it didn’t seem like he was going to be digested, otherwise he would have been splashing stomach acids all over him from his struggles, instead of other contents in her stomach. It included a few eight balls and dice, unsurprisingly. Despite his best efforts, he would only slightly stretch out her grey skin as Vriska could see her bloated stomach wiggling and bulging with his form, she was content to keep him in there.

It would be a few minutes before Eridan’s protests would die down and he’d resign himself for now as he attempt to get comfortable against the soft stomach lining that surrounded him. As embarrassing as this had been, he had expending his stamina and his frustration dying down to contempt. It would allow her to relax a bit more and close her eyes. She thinks she’s going to take a nap before they do anything else. She might let him out later but for now, this was just another mark of victory for her. It was fun, they’ll have to do this again sooner rather than later.

[captainsuke]

seventeen/eighteen

Deran had been on edge lately, in the long stretches between surf comps and missing days, sometimes weeks where Adrian doesn't get to see him because he's too busy with Cody family stuff; Adrian had hoped a day blocked out for surfing would settle things. Maybe even dragging the day into an evening someplace quiet and private. But Deran had been late, his shoulders hitched up and tense like his mother was riding around on his back and that seemed to set the tone for the afternoon.

Deran's emotions are an unstable thing on a good day lately, explosive and dangerous to everyone including himself, and his embarrassment for being late had only served to annoy him more no matter how much Adrian had tried to stress that he was just glad he could make it at all.

Deran had seemed to be smoothing out, or at least calming down enough to enjoy the waves.

There's a few people out today - not so many that it was impossible to catch a wave – but Deran's glaring at a group of older guys, maybe late twenties-early thirties. They keep floating closer and closer to the spot Adrian and Deran have staked out, catching waves that by rights should have been theirs.

Adrian's seriously considering suggesting they pack it in – find that quiet private place and get off handful of times and see if that has any effect on Deran's shitty mood. He doesn't want to deal with this, the posturing and the insults and the fighting, not today. Not when he's supposed to be cheering Deran up, not pissing him off more.

He's paddling back to their spot after catching a wave when he realizes he's left it too late.

Deran's moved closer to the group of men, shoulders braced like he's got his pack of brothers behind him instead of just Adrian too far back to be any good at being back-up.

“Hey fuck you!” Deran's yelling right up in one's face.

“Fuck you too, you little pussy. Get the fuck outta here kid.” The guy shoves at Deran, whose hand shoots out shoves it back away from him.

“Don't fucking-”

a punch

“Hey!” Adrian yells as he fucking finally gets back.

Blood dripping from a split in Deran's lip but he doesn't look anything but annoyed.

“Come on, guys.” One of the friends says, tired.

“He's just kid, Rob.” Another says and Deran stiffens at the words.

The guy, Rob, snorts, looks away, mutters something derisive that Adrian can't hear but Deran makes an angry noise, the guy ignores him and starts paddling for a wave. Deran's face darkens and before Adrian can say anything he's going for the same wave.

They both managed to catch it, but they're too close and the clash before going down in a messy mash of body, waves and boards.

Adrian sees Deran's board fly up, maybe clips him from the way his body jolts, then falls beneath the wave crashing white water.

“Deran? Deran?!” Adrian doesn't know why he's yelling, he can't see anything, the waters too choppy, too foamy to see anything beneath it.

Rob's is paddling back red faced and angry but he looks around, almost worried when he realizes that Deran's not come back up.

Deran's board floats free and he's not coming up. Adrian paddles over to it, corrals it in and checks it over; the leash is intact but Deran's nowhere to be seen.

This can't be happening, Deran can hold his breath for a long fucking time but if he's knocked out that doesn't mean shit. This can't be happening, Adrian thinks, looking around wildly as if he's just not looking hard enough.

A hand shoot out of the ocean, grabbing Rob's wrist, The guy tries to jump back as Deran's head surfaces, and Adrian feels a swell of relief even though there's a dark look in his eyes that makes Adrian shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the wind that's picking up.

He watches as Deran's shoulders shift back as his chest expands, taking several deep breaths before dragging the guy down, both of them disappearing with Rob's high pitched shriek of terror.

There's a long silence as they all just float, Adrian with relief that his idiot best friend hasn't drowned himself, he doesn't particularly care about the other surfer, you start fights on the ocean eventually you're going to come up against someone whose more than ready to hit back. The other surfers seem to be in shock, they're half calling out, half just looking around like they can't believe what just happened.

They're both down for a long time.

Finally the guy pops up out of the ocean some fifty feet away from where they're all floating. He's half crying, half gasping for breath as he swims back to his friends and his board.

Deran surfaces lazily like he doesn't care one way or another if he ever breathes air again.

Seawater's dripping down Deran's face mixing with blood leaving lines of dark pink down the sides of his face, running down to stain the splashes of color on his wetsuit.

There's no more name calling, no bravado. The ocean's gone quiet as the group paddles back to the beach, watching Deran with wild eyes.

“Whose the pussy now?” Deran asks no one. His voice is mean, but not like Adrian's heard before; it's cold and wild, twisted into something unhinged. The look in his eyes as he watches them swim - run – away is no longer a warning, it's a dare, an invitation, begging for a fight, for a chance to prove something.

They stay out for a little longer but neither of them have their hearts in it. Deran's head is still steadily dripping blood and every fresh run of red fills Adrian with worry.

Is he swaying because of the tide, or is he about to drop from a concussion?

Finally, after Deran had bombed out on a particularly easy wave, Adrian decides they need to go in, Deran's just gonna keep getting more and more frustrated, fucking up simple shit and building himself up into a Mood, which Adrian is too tired to deal with on a good day.

“I'm beat, man,” Adrian says, as Deran scowls out at the horizon. “Wanna get something to eat? Chill for a bit?”

Deran looks at him, the two of them bobbing on the waves looking at each other, then he snots an impressive amount of seawater out of his nose, closes his eyes and finally looks as tired as he's no doubt been feeling all day, nodding

“Yeah, a'ight.”

By the time they get to the beach and hit the showers Deran's eyes are drooping in a way that makes Adrian's stomach flip in worry. He grabs Deran by the arm, jerks him around til his heads in the sunlight and maybe Adrian can see where the fuck all the bloods coming from.

“Hey! Ow, what the fuck?” He snaps pulling away, an arm coming up like he's expecting to need to guard himself, “Jesus Christ, what's your fucking problem?”

“I was worried, asshole!” he fires back and Deran's staring at him, mouth open, red spreading across his cheeks and burning the tips of his ears.

Deran shakes his head then drops down on one of the benches with his head bowed. There's a good size cut running through his hair near the crown, but it looks like it's just weeping blood now, not pouring out, maybe its not too deep, maybe it is okay.

Deran lets him fuss for longer than Adrian thinks is usual, so it must hurt some, but he only gets about a two second look at his pupils before Deran's standing up and toweling the last of the water off.

He's a sight with his wetsuit pushed down to his hips but Adrian is for once not just enjoying the view, not with the way he's gingerly trying to dry his hair, the towel coming back a little more red each time.

Adrian's fingers twitch to get another look but he holds off, he can wait til they're back at the house, when they're away from prying eyes.

“You know, Nico got me a video of years Mavericks, we could get take out and watch some real pros.”

Deran throws the towel at Adrian with a laughed fuck you.

“Hey I rode waves at Mavericks.”

“You were in the hospital for two days because you nearly drowned.”

“That was at the end!” Deran defends, “I rode ones before the last one.”

They joke about Deran's ill-fated trip to the big waves as they shove each other towards the scout. Joke like Adrian hadn't spent hours worrying when Craig and Deran hadn't returned from Princeton. When he'd had no way to contact them and he didn't dare go and ask Smurf because he knew Craig and Deran had run off, taken the five hundred mile roadtrip to Half Moon Bay without asking for permission and things were already weird at Casa Cody that month.

Anytime he'd spent at the Cody household lately had already been tense, every conversation between family had been filled with not so subtly hidden barbs and Adrian had to pretend he was too stupid to realize the reason behind all he interpersonal hostility was the lack of high stake heists in the news the last couple of months.

So he'd waited, worried, and when a pale Deran with dark rings around his eyes had come back late, boasting of the waves he'd ridden, the board he'd snapped and the time he'd spent held under by relentless waves, and when Deran was back and okay as he was going to get, Adrian had tucked that worry away . Because he knew the hell Dean would be getting at home, and he wouldn't make it hostile here as well.

Adrian thinks sometimes the only reason he and Deran have stayed so close is that Adrian knows when to push and when to let things go.

He throws the towel back, puts a flick on it so the wet part slaps Deran in the face.

“Fuck you, man.” Deran says, a smile in his voice, throwing the towel in the back of the scout and head towards his pile of clothes in the front seat.

Adrian's settling his board in the back when notices Deran's gone quiet. He looks up to see Deran's head bowed over his phone, fingers white where he's gripping it hard.

Adian doesn't need to ask to know what that's about and he feels a burst of rage. Can't Smurf leave him alone for one fucking day? Is one afternoon too much for Adrian to fucking ask?

He tries to tamp that rage down, be practical, some of their skate crew friends were talking about hitting the waves today, they could be still around to take Adrian home if Deran's gotta cut.

“I can get a ride from one of the guys, if you've gotta go.” Adrian keeps his tone even as he suggests it.

He's not mad at Deran, he tells himself, no matter how much Adrian might wish he'd stand up to his mom. They're still kids and Julia's sudden and complete fall from grace was still fresh enough in everyone's mind. No matter how much Adrian he'd love to see Deran out from under Smurf's thumb, he doesn't know if Deran would survive being cut from his brothers, thrown to the mercy of the world without anything but a propensity for violence and theft.

Deran's carefully blank face crumples for a moment before he pulls it back together. When he looks up he pastes on a grin he obviously isn't feeling, shrugging with an exaggerated I don't care.

“Nah, fuck it, I got time, it's fine.” He says though the way he scratches at his neck as he texts back an answer says that's probably a lie. Adrian let's him have it, sometimes if you said something enough it could become a sort of truth.

The short drive back to the house Adrian shares with Chad is mostly silent, Deran and Adrian both half starting to say something – anything – and then failing, in between the ding of Deran's phone's notifications, the harsh noise making Deran's shoulders pull up tight with tension.

When they finally pull up in front of Adrian's house, Deran swallows a couple of time before finally speaking.

“Sorry, man.” Deran says, his voice sounding rough as he stares straight ahead, like he can't look at Adrian.

“It's okay,” Adrian shrugs, “Give us a call when you can.”

Adrian reaches a hand out but Deran flinches back, shoulders flexing outward like he's trying to pretend he didn't just do it, like he's trying to pull together the posture of someone who didn't give a fuck, like he's not looking around wild eyed like he's somehow impossibly expecting his mom to be hiding outside Adrian's house waiting to catch him acting gay.

Adrian doesn't know how he has the energy for it, all tense muscles and constant self correction, Deran cares so much he makes Adrian tired just watching him try to please everyone while yelling loudly about how he doesn't care.

Adrian sighs and lets it go as Deran looks down at his lap hair falling down to cover his face.

Neither of them say much as Adrian retrieves his board, pats the Scout as he passes behind it.

He calls out a see you as he walks away and gets a grunt in reply.

Out of the corner of his eye, as he unlocks the door, he can see Deran staring at him, a weird almost wistful look on his face. Adrian thinks of turning back, of waving goodbye, of telling him he's a fucking pussy, of stalking back and kissing him in the broad daylight and to hell with everyone and everything.

Instead he lets Deran have his moment of private regret, and swears one day it's gonna be different.