#he is hurt and his body never recovered from this job and he is tired; god he is tired

[romanticintheory]

thinking about fellow soldier!reader coming back to ghost after having been mistaken for kia

gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley

-maybe he's back in your shared apartment, holding the last photo he took with you.

-it was taken the day of your birthday, with your arms around simon's waist and a gleeful smile permanently etched on your face.

-you were looking directly at the camera with your eyes crinkled at the corners. simon, however, was looking at you and only you with an expression only a lovestruck fool could manage.

-he had long since stopped crying about what he believed was your death. when price came to him with a somber expression and the news that you were on the wrong end of an explosion, the only thing he could do was cry or be angry.

-now, he felt nothing.

-you could imagine his surprise when he hears the front door open. did he forget to lock it? was someone breaking in? he didn't care enough to prepare himself for a potential attack.

-but, no, you walked in with an ungodly amount of bandaged wounds and a tired look on your face.

-you expected him to stand from his place on the sofa to meet you, but he didn't. he thought he was imagining things, again, so he said nothing.

-"simon," you said softly, not bothering to take off your shoes and throwing you things onto the ground next to you.

-still, he said nothing.

-"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. price said he tried to contact you but that you never answered," you continued. nobody knew where you and ghost lived, and simon's grief took the form of self-isolation.

-he still didn't answer you at this point, and it was becoming unsettling.

-"simon, can you hear me?"

-"you're not real," was all he could muster. he didn't have the heart to tell "fake" you to go away or beg himself to wake up from his supposed dream. "i can't do this again. you're not real."

-you realized just how hard your false death had hit him.

-"i'm real. i promise. i was able to take cover last second and-"

-"no. you're dead with not even a body to recover because i wasn't there to protect you. god, i..." the words got stuck in his throat as he leaned forward on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and near trembling.

-you dropped to your knees in front of him like a follower worshipping their god. taking his hands, you held them tight as you could in a silent attempt at convincing him you were alive.

-there was a moment of silence between the two of you before he drew his hands away from yours. it made your heart hurt.

-"simon..." you were grasping at straws, now, trying to figure out how to convince him of what was true. maybe there was something in your luggage that might help.

-as soon as you turned your body to your bags by the front door, you were pulled right back in by a pair of strong arms.

-he was hugging you like the moment he let go, you'd disappear into thin air (and, in a way, he believed it to be a possibility). after being pulled from your shock, you immediately brought your own arms to reciprocate the embrace.

-"(y/n)," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. there was still a part of him that couldn't believe he had you with him. if he weren't so thankful, he'd be lecturing you about acting wreckless on missions and convincing you to quit your job so nothing like this happened again.

-but, for now, he was content like this.

[pearlymel]

Sweet dreams—Zayne

summery : In which you need Zayne's help to tire you out so you can finally sleep.

Wc : 1.4k

Warning(s) : NSFW, Fem!reader, fingering, use of "good girl", finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, uhh lmk if i missed anything.

You don’t often ask Zayne for help, but he adored it when you did. He liked being needed, liked providing for you, always giving you anything you wanted. He’d never say it openly, though.

And tonight was one of those days, where both were of you were getting ready to sleep, Zayne facing his side of the bed and you embracing him from behind comfortably.

An hour passed. You look up at the clock on the wall, its already past midnight when you still couldn’t seem to get your eyes to close for the night. And who could you blame? Probably the sugar or drinks you had today that only seemed to make you hyper, and your handsome husband who you rarely get to see on nights like these. 

And you’re thankful, really. Finally being able to sleep in the same bed after hours of overtime from his demanding job. But that still doesn’t help with the fact that you missed him everyday when he leaves for work, oh how you ached for him to the point every simple thing he does turns you on. Like opening a jar you probably couldn’t open on your own, or sometimes watching him work out inside your shared space, his muscles flexing underneath that tight compression shirt, eyes fixated on the outline of the bulge peeking out from his grey—

You snapped back to reality when Zayne cleared his throat out loud, your body stiffening. Did he listen to what you were fantasizing about just a second ago?

“Why are you still not asleep? I can feel your fingertips playing with my hair…” you can hear the soft mumbling escaping his mouth. Your eyes follow his hand as he moves it to the back of his neck, his fingers nervously rubbing the area. You slowly pull your own hands back, still feeling the gentle tingle from the brief contact. A hint of redness creeps onto his earlobes, spreading across his skin like a subtle shade of embarrassment despite his back still facing you, but he quickly recovers from it.

“I can’t sleep. Plus I don’t feel tired from the amount of sugar I consumed this morning.” And you can only half blame him for it, since the candy jar he kept on the shelves were too tempting not to munch on.

“Sugar? You don’t happen to talk about the candy ja—“

“Ohh, i think its starting to hurt right here.” You swiftly cut him off, pretending to be in pain as you clutched on your stomach dramatically. And he can only sigh while watching your little act, even so, a small smile curled on one side of his lips. He's hopelessly smitten by your cute display.

"You're so dramatic," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. But despite his words, his hands reached for your wrists to lift them off your stomach, then slotting his hands on your stomach instead, gently massaging at first out of concern whether it was hurting or not.

“Here?” He whispered, fingers poking on your sides playfully which made you laugh, followed by a giggle. “That tickles, Dr Zayne!” And you continue squirming and laughing before he stopped with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Well, that still won’t help me fall asleep. In fact that just gave me more energy!” You smiled brightly in the slightly dim dark room. He only hums thoughtfully in return.

“If you want to sleep, we need to tire you out.” He leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead, and you only raise one eyebrow. When you tried to lift yourself off the bed, he only caged you gently in his arms while gently pushing you back on the bed. “I promise I won’t go too far,” and you feel like you instantly get the hint when his hand slides down to meet your bare thigh.

You silently thank yourself for only wearing an oversized shirt and panties tonight.

Zayne’s fingertips finally found itself way to your panties, his thumb slowly rubbing on your clit in circular motions through the thin fabric which made you gasp softly.

“Zayne—“

“Relax.” He whispered, soft lips finding yours into an open messy kiss, drinking in every mewl and whine that escaped from your lips. “Lie down, and spread your legs for me, darling.” He instructed in a low, husky tone. And you did as told, his arms pulling away from your back before letting yourself get comfortable on the mattress.

His breath hitched when you easily spread your legs open for him, his hands wasting not time to pull your underwear down to your ankles before slowly sinking in his middle finger into your wet, tight cunt. Your little hole fluttering around his finger when he started stroking your insides lightly, the back of your hand covering your mouth, struggling to not moan every time he would push knuckles deep inside you.

“Let me hear you,” he encouraged, gently brushing your hand away with his other hand before sinking in another finger in. Two fingers curling right into your sweet spot which immediately made you shamelessly moan out loud, hips arching off the bed as you clenched tightly around his fingers before coming undone. Though he continued thrusting his digits in and out, not fast, but steady.

“Good girl, now tell me what you want me to do next.” He roughly whispered, his own breathings growing heavier.

“I want…” you panted, mind still hazy while you tried to recover from your orgasm before he pulled out of you. “Open.” He ordered with dark eyes, your lips parting for him to take his digits in your mouth, your tongue lapping and sucking your juices clean off his fingers, a whine eliciting from your throat at the taste of yourself.

He then released his fingers from your mouth, leaning in to softly kiss at your temples. “I want more,” you mumble, eyes looking up innocently at him, which made him shake his head while chuckling. so you’re still not tired.

“More? That’s not enough information.” He said gruffly, and suddenly his pants were off, which made you blink twice for what’s to come. He exhales out shakily as he gives himself a few languid strokes before lining himself between your folds while leaning down to bury his face in your neck.

“You want me to fuck you roughly or gently? Do you want me to tie you up? Blindfold you? Or maybe, something else?” He whispered while pressing featherlight kisses along the curve of your neck. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and enjoyed it. If you were uncomfortable, he wouldn’t proceed. But he knew you liked being dominated sometimes. He could see it in your eyes, the way your pupils dilated and your breathing becoming ragged.

“… Roughly, please.” You uttered, almost to yourself as you wrapped your arms around him. He smirked against your neck so you wouldn’t be able to see him, he was pleased with your decision.

Zayne parted your thighs wider apart using his rough hands as he lined himself up with your tight entrance that clenched around nothing eagerly. “Relax, darling.” He murmured with reassurance next to your ear as he pushed himself into you to the hilt without warning, causing you to yelp in surprise. He moved at a leisurely pace, making sure you adjusted to his size, he then paused, waiting for your body to adjust to his girth.

He then began fucking you harder, pounding into you with long, deep thrusts. His movements were sharp, and deliberate. His hands gripping onto your thighs tightly, further pushing them down which made you cry out in pleasure. 

He took the pleasure at the sight of you, back arched, your nails digging and scratching into his back while hearing your moans of pleasure.

“That’s it, take it.” He grunted, one of his hands sliding down to slap your ass lightly, “take my cock, sweetheart—ah, fuck.” He panted, the rhythm increased, he was soon pounding into you relentlessly, feeling you clench impossibly tight around him, drawing you closer to your next climax.

“Hah… ah, Z-zayne,” you whimpered, tears prickling your precious eyes to which he tried kissing them away. “‘M gonna cum—“ 

“Cum for me, sweets.” He whispered softly, his lips pressing one last time on your shoulder before feeling your muscles clench around him. “My good girl.”

Your orgasm hit like a freight train, your muscles milking his cock intensely. Zayne groaned, following closely behind, spilling into you and painting your walls white in slow, sloppy thrusts.

Finally, he pulled out of you after a moment of catching both of your breaths, he collapsed beside you, panting heavily. “Surely you're tired by now?” And you giggle tiredly in return, eyes closing lazily and turning to him to give his lips a peck.

“I love you,” you whisper, and he takes your wrist, his thumb stroking slow circles inside your wrists. “I love you too, now go to sleep, love. I’ll clean you up.”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart, Chapter 7 (Human!Alastor x Married!reader)

Banner Alastors done by @blobin456drawz, Banner done by @redvexillum<3 Chapter Trigger Warnings: None

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Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Everything hurt. Not so much that you couldn’t move, but you ached all over with every twitch of your muscles. You took a handful of aspirin and waited for the pain to dull as it always did. There were things that needed to get done and the last thing you wanted to do was tempt Laurence’s temper and not get it done.

It was midday on a weekday. Most of the men were working and many of the women were busy with tending to their children and their homes. You didn’t want to brave the bus, but you wanted to walk even less. Your feet ached from the walking you had done earlier in the week and if you pushed your luck much more, blisters would break out on your feet.

Laurence wouldn’t see that as an excuse for the shopping to fall behind or appearances to be allowed to slip. Better to brave the bus than to make the pain in your feet any worse. A little extra pain now would save you untold amounts of pain in the future. There was really no reason to debate it. 

Luckily, the bus was fairly empty and your gamble had paid off. You could snag a seat and, even better, no one took the seats next to you during the ride. The jostling of the bus over bumps caused little flairs of pain to spike, but it was manageable, for now at least. 

You were used to the abdominal pain that lingered after being kicked while on the ground. It was tiring, but it was easier than when his blows would hit your limbs. There were more of you to absorb the blows when he kicked out at your stomach and far more muscles to compensate. 

Closing your eyes, you ran through your list for the day. Drop off the dress. Grab more coffee from the market, more aspirin from the pharmacy. 

Mesmerizing earthy eyes and a warm smile flittered through your mind, demanding your attention over the mundane tasks of a simple housewife. Mr. Mo-, no- Alastor for you. Alastor had found his way into your thoughts more often than you cared to admit since he had walked out your door. 

You told yourself it was just your lack of real social connections that made your mind latch onto the man. It was easier to blame that and not think about the warmth of his body brushing yours in the kitchen or dwell on the way his warm skin was just a hair darker than was acceptable. 

You could hear his laughter as his banter ran circles around your husband, leaving Laurence with little to do but scramble to keep up in his own home. It wasn’t something you should have enjoyed seeing, but you had. God above damn you to hell, you had enjoyed it so much. 

Alastor was someone you should hate. You should blame your current pain on him. Intentionally or not, his actions had contributed to the beating you were now recovering from. It was his fault Laurence had slapped you so hard your nose had bled, staining washrags that would never really be clean again. If Alastor hadn’t wound up Laurence so much, it wouldn’t have been so bad. 

Resenting him, blaming him, wasn’t something you seemed to be able to make yourself do, no matter how hard you had tried. It was just as much your own fault for not pushing Alastor away, for allowing yourself to call him Alastor as he had requested. 

Being friendly was Alastor’s job. It was probably his persona to have married women falling at his feet. He was charming and handsome. Would he laugh he if knew how he occupied the thoughts of a married woman he’d only met in passing a few times and spent one meal with?

As the bus rumbled to your stop, you shook your head, trying to will the man to leave your head. Dwelling on another man was asking for trouble. You are a married woman. That wasn’t ever going to change. You were faithful and would continue to be. You had vowed till death do you part from Laurence. 

You told yourself you were being nothing more than just a silly woman as you shuffled down the sidewalk and up the stairs to the tailor shop. It took more work than it should have to keep your back up straight and the warm spring weather had your heart pounding in your chest with the effort. 

A car pulled up and parked along the street and you paid it no mind as reached for the door. You didn’t see the sharp brown eyes glance at you through the windshield as you slowly pulled open the heavy door. 

You moved slowly as you crossed the empty shop. Pick up your dress. Drop off last night’s dress. That’s all you had to do. Your heart was beating harder in your chest than it should have been. 

The bell over the door jingled as you stepped up to the counter. The sound was sharp, sharper than you remembered it being. The lights were harsh, too bright when paired with the bright sunlight through the large windows. Ringing. Your ears were ringing nearly as loudly as when Laurence slapped you last night. 

The shopkeeper’s mouth was moving, but you couldn’t make out her words. The counter was cold under your hand as you reached out for it. You couldn’t feel the ground under your feet. 

The shopkeeper reached out for you as you swayed on your feet. It felt like smoke as her fingers grazed your hand. Falling back, you registered that the floor was going to hurt, but you couldn’t catch yourself. 

“Alastor,” the shopkeeper called out, but you couldn’t make sense of it. She wouldn’t be calling for him. It was just your mind. He wasn’t there.“She’s going to go down, catch her.”

Rather than hitting the floor, you remained on your feet, propped up against something warm and firm. Blinking, your mind cleared little by little. 

“Hand me that?” You groaned as the sound of Alastor’s voice filled your ears, mind telling you it was little more than a dream or delusion. “Her nose is bleeding.” 

“I’m okay.” Your words come out thicker, slurred. It felt like you try trying to speak through a mouthful of cotton balls, but the feeling was quickly fading.

“We’ll see about that,” Alastor said, dabbing your nose with the cloth. Pulling it away, he folds to a clean portion and drapes it over your nose, pinching your nostrils together firmly. “Lean forward, I’ve got you.” 

Alastor didn’t give you much of a choice, though. His large hand came to rest on the back of your head and applied enough pressure to force you to lean your head forward, not that it took much in your trembling, weakened state. 

“Breathe through your mouth, darling.” His voice was softer now than it had been while he was in your home. There was a kindness to him now that lulled you along with his directions. You wanted to indulge in that and for a moment, you did.

And then reality came crashing around you., the colors and sounds that had faded into the background slammed back into your mind. Reaching up, you covered his hand over your nose with your own. His hand was much larger than yours, making the task difficult. You tried to ignore the warmth of his skin or how long his fingers were as you ran your hand along his, grasping the fabric over your nose and pinching down just above his fingers. 

“I’m okay,” you said again, voice muffled as you stepped out of his arms. “Thank you.” 

“Let me help you to the chair.” Alastor’s hand on your back was a soft guiding pressure you had to fight to resist. Stepping to the side, you put even more distance between you, letting cold air fill where the warmth of his body had been. 

“Dear, you really should sit down.” The shopkeeper had concern written clearly across her face. 

“It’s just a nosebleed,” you muffled out. “I’m fine.” 

“What happened?” Alastor asked, standing close still but allowing you your distance. If Laurence got wind that you were again close with Alastor, he’d rain hell down upon you. There would be far more than sore abdominal muscles and a bloody nose for you to worry about. 

“I just walked into a pole earlier,” you laughed off your lie. “It must have reopened with the day’s warmth.” 

While you pulled the dress out of the bag to request the mending, you didn’t see the way Alastor’s eyes roamed over you. There were no dirt smudges on your dress, nor were there dried dribbles of blood to speak of a prior nosebleed. The only reason your dress was blood free from this incident was his quick rescue with the handkerchief from the display. 

You were lying to them and he knew it. 

“Susan, be a dear and put that handkerchief on my bill.” Alastor called out, interrupting your continued halfhearted attempts to explain away the bloody nose. 

“No,” you protested, stepping forward and resting a hand on his arm before thinking twice and yanking it back, “I’ve got it. There’s no reason to-”

“Nonsense,” Alastor smiled down at you, “I’m the one who grabbed it.” 

You couldn’t argue. You were too tired for that and really; you needed to get out of the shop before someone saw you and Alastor together. The last thing you needed was someone to mention who was helping you to your husband.

Holding the cloth to your nose, you struggled to lie out the dress and show the shopkeeper, Susan; you had learned her name was, where it the seam was torn. Alastor, once again, was eager to come to your assistance as soon as you showed any signs of a struggle. 

“This is last night’s dress?” He asked, ignoring the way Susan’s eyebrow rose. 

“Another one?” Susan sighed. “I just repaired this same rip. How do you keep doing this to your dresses?” She asked, as if she didn’t know. Whatever Alastor had going on with you that had him knowing what a married woman wore last night wasn’t any of her business, but he’d do well to pick up on a trend of ripped dresses if he was going to get close to a married woman. Susan didn’t feel like mending any more of his clothes, either. 

“I’m just clumsy,” you laughed off your lie, praying they believed it. 

“If you’re so clumsy that you keep ripping the shoulders of your dresses, perhaps I should teach you to mend them yourself,” Alastor laughed at his words as if they were some sort of joke and not an indecent proposal. “All these tailor trips sure must get expensive.”

“Says the man is here more than his own office.” Susan grumbles from behind the counter as she began writing up your ticket. 

“I hardly see how that’s any of your concern.” You tried to avoid looking at the man. “And why would you think it would matter how much I use a tailor’s services?”

Alastor leaned into your space, breath washing over your neck as he spoke softly directly into your ear. “Fist off, your home is only partially wired. I can’t imagine a reason why someone would still have gas lights in their more private spaces if they hadn’t run out of money during the update process.” 

“If you know how to sew so well, Mr. Moreau, why are you having the tailor fix your clothes?” You shoved the ticket into your bag and gave Susan a parting smile, working hard to pretend you hadn’t heard a word said about the state of your home.

The woman only raised her eyebrow higher at the theatrics. Whatever was going on between you and Alastor, it was amusing, at least for her. 

“Just because I can, my dear, doesn’t mean I want to.” Alastor leaned his back against the counter as he watched you close your bag. “And I can afford to have someone else do it.” 

“As can I, Mr. Moreau,” You realized you were stomping when where halfway to the door. For all the aggravation Alastor was causing you, he had distracted you from the ache in your muscles and the bloody nose. 

That realization put the fire out. Your shoulders sagged as you turned to face the two looking at you from the counter. 

“Thank you, Alastor.” You hesitated before continuing, “For the offer and for helping me with this.” You twitched your fist, holding the handkerchief in it in his direction. 

With a deep breath as the door shut behind you, silencing the jingle of the bell. The air outside helped clear your head. Walking toward the bus stop, you dipped the handkerchief corner into a fountain and scrubbed the blood from your face, doing your best to remove any evidence of the incident. Walking through town with blood dried on your face would do nothing but cause talk. 

As you walked, you couldn’t help but think of Alastor and the things he said. Was it really that strange that your house was only partially wired? Was there a reason why Laurence was no longer upgrading appliances and utilities in your home? It used to be something he took pride in. There hadn’t been much changes in the amount of pocket money he had given you each week.

Should you be learning to mend your own clothes? Alastor said he could teach you. What would that be like? Where would he teach you? It wouldn’t be proper for him to come to your home to do so, nor for you to go to his. You couldn’t really be seen out and about with him, Laurence already didn’t like Alastor.

It was a shame, really, that the two men couldn’t manage to get along. You could imagine a world where the two men got on well enough to maintain a friendly business relationship. It would be a world where Laurence wasn’t overly sensitive to Alastor’s barbs and perhaps the barbs came fewer between. It was a world where you could learn to sew from Alastor and indulge in the simple act of sharing space and time with him. 

Maybe you could just sneak away and learn to sew from Alastor anyway, perhaps in a park, well in view of all and with feet between each of you to show the clear platonic and instructional nature of the interactions. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful way to spend the afternoon? There didn’t have to be anything improper about it. You could just spend time learning from him. 

There was no way you could do that. Propriety forbade it. It was nothing but a passing daydream.

Next? Masterlist

[anamelessfool]

Papa IV "Copia" x GN! Reader (AO3 Link)

Domestic Fluff, GEN with some strong language.

You’re in the middle of recovering from a broken leg, and after a few months of this every appointment feels more like a setback than a step forward. At least Copia had been there. This whole time, your man was there.

Dedicated to my friend @thew0man. I hope this domestic fluff instantly heals you. Thank you for all your support. Keep being your lovely self.

Tags: Gender Neutral, Established Relationship, Healing After Injury, Married Life, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff. Broken Bones, Wheelchairs, Medical Issues

The lift stops at the fourth floor with a final clunk that knocks a tired sigh from you. Your leg in its cast and new boot stirs and issues a dull ache as a reminder. Your love Copia is wedged in the corner by the buttons, his mismatched eyes blinking in their perplexed way as he waits just a bit more until he's sure the lift’s stopped. He meets your eyes, flashes you a tender smile and a little thumbs up. “Home sweet home, eh?” He chuckles. He squeezes his body around your wheelchair in the tiny service elevator of your flat, nearly stumbling backwards into the hall.

“There you go, I got you,” Copia mutters, placing his hands on either side of the chair to help pull you out.

“I'm fine, I'm fine Copia,” you reply, moving your hands along the hand rims to roll the wheels forward. You exit the lift with a thunk and wince. The painkillers have done their job but your leg still throbs in its boot. The boot is new, and it was a good step towards actually getting over this. In the car you admitted to Copia your exhaustion from today’s appointment, so like a gentleman he brought down the wheelchair.

“Now, amore, we spend the rest of our Saturday relaxing, si?” He says by your ear. “You eh— you need help?”

“No I'm fine.” You give him a weak smile. He's so attentive that those butterflies start to wake. The ones where you're worried for him. You feel a flush of nerves as he continues his friendly chatter as you wheel yourself down the hall towards your flat.

In a few moments you're inside your place and sitting once more on the couch. Copia has arranged a nest of blankets around you as carefully as a mama bird, settling you in for another late afternoon and evening to get through while you heal. Your leg in the cast itches. It always does at the worst time. You stare at it hoping just giving it a tired look will make it stop, but it continues, taunting you. You notice once more an old get well card over the television and its memory continues to sink your mood.

Happy Valentine’s Day, you say to yourself whenever you feel down about your situation. The red and pink, white lace and teddy bears were the decorations festooned across your earliest memories of your accident. The sweet little tributes filled the hospital room but also reminded you too much of how badly you miscalculated. If only I…if I had just…why didn’t I… Over and over the moments replayed themselves in your brain as you stared into the black plastic eyes of yet another “Grin and Bear It!” Plush delivered to your room. Happy Valentine’s Day but it was nearing July. And every time you returned from your doctor’s office it never felt like an improvement, just another problem.

At least Copia had been there. This whole time, your man was there. He had travelled to your hospital bedside as soon as he was able, clearing his schedule to spend time playing Uno and reading you books until you fell asleep. “My love…You'll be well soon,” he had said as he held your hands in his own over the rough hospital blanket. “Believe you'll be well and you'll be well, amore. That's most of it, si? The em— power of the mind and all. Getting you through.”

He's helped you to every appointment he can, kept you clean and fed and comfortable. His whole world was you, even though it had shrunk to the size of your apartment and the occasional wheel around the park to stay sane.

“Let’s get you comfortable, here em—yes, perfetto,” Copia murmurs. He's here even now, adjusting the pillows around you on the couch. He's wearing his Saturday best of ratty red sweatshirt that’s seen better days but over time has become impossibly soft. His freckled cheek is right beside yours, his eyes lowered as he works. He smells of lavender and Florida water aftershave as you lean forward and steal a kiss for yourself. He makes one of those little noises in his throat, frowning comically as he stands up.

“You're distracting me,” he says. “Although I know I am irresistible. As I um— as I seduce you with all of these em…couch cushions.” Copia ends his task with his own thoughtful little kiss on your forehead before moving on to the kitchen nearby.

You learned that when he can't touch you in the ways he wants, he'll stack your table high with food. You're not sure if it's an Italian thing or a Copia thing but watching him putter about in a kitchen calms you down after another long day of being stuck in your thoughts. “We can see that see that gangster film if you like em— which one was it? The one with the guy who…oh, he's in that other film…”

Copia continues his rambling as he chops things in the kitchen. There's the sizzle of oil and the comforting scent of your favorite meal wafts into the living room. You shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself. Spiced tagine chicken, your favorite. Copia's awful proud about how he's figured it out and so now you assume with another chuckle that this is what you're going to eat for the rest of your life.

Or at least until your leg was better. You stare at the new cast now, frowning at it propped up on the ottoman.

You were better, but you were far from recovered. And as sweet as he was, you were worried Copia wouldn’t keep his patience. At some point he’d get tired hauling you from one appointment to another. Would get frustrated from helping you to and from the car, would get bored from all the missed opportunities for sweet dinner dates, concerts or cocktail bars.

It was embarrassing enough asking him for the most basic things that just weeks ago you would do without a thought— damn, if only I—getting up the stairs, bathing, cooking meals. A part of you decided to tell you stories about what was going through Copia’s mind as he doted on you. Surely, this task would be the one to put him over the edge. Yes, this setback, this latest appointment will make his smiles and cheerful demeanor fade. When he wasn’t around you’d sleep. Or lie awake wondering.

Maybe you'll start with a game. Some Zelda or Phoenix Wright, you're not sure. Although you’re halfway through a court case in Phoenix Wright and you don't really remember all the little details anymore. Maybe not. Maybe you'll restart the chapter later, although filing through all that text seems tiring at this point. Fine, perhaps no video games.

Painting? Copia’s left your iPad on the side table within reach. But you're not sure what to paint. And the last one needs some color correction and the thought of fiddling with the smallest adjustments that nobody will notice except you is far from appealing. There's nothing on the TV of any interest to you at this hour. You pick up a book you've been planning on reading but after a few minutes the text swims in front of your eyes.

Or you could always do the jigsaw puzzles. Dear God not the jigsaw puzzles.

You click on the television just to have noise to fill the air. It's two women crowing about handbags on a home shopping network. That’ll do. You set it all down and stare at the ceiling.

“I will set my alarm for eh— the three times a day you need the small white round ones, and the twice a day the long pill capsules and of course the injections….how many do we need?” Copia stares at the doctor’s note, mouth slack like he's attempting to translate an ancient curse carved into the side of a pharaoh's sarcophagus. “How, how do they write like this, tesoro? Is this em— is this English? Cazzo, what is this…”

“Twice a day,” you sigh. You're not happy about the shots but at least your man's been a champ when it comes to helping you with them. However, last two times he made you laugh too much to hold still. “Look away, dear, I’m eh—too scared to look too,” he joked, covering his eyes.

Dinner is set to steam on the stove for a while. He returns from the kitchen, with his Kiss the Cook apron on with the matching tacky fish-shaped oven mitts you brought back from Brighton for him as a joke. The money was worth the polite, nervous smile he gave you when he opened the gift. Now he uses them with pride cooking every night. Getting better at your favorite spiced tagine chicken recipe. He's close, almost.

“Is there anything else? Anything I can get you em—before dinner?”

All this fussing, all the delicious smells of your favorite meal and the buzz of shows on the TV and the warmth of the blanket he's draped on you spins in your mind. You want to be happy. You want to be at peace, but the twist in your chest doesn't go away, and in fact the more he dotes on you and mutters sweet nothings the more that tightness winds.

And right now, it just snaps. You let out a sob, something that you thought wouldn't be detected but is too loud across the space. Copia freezes. He heard it. Fuck. The tears pour out like fizz from a shaken soda can.

“I just…Copia, I'm sorry!” The scene swims in the onslaught of your tired tears. He's frozen in his bewildered mismatched expression, holding onto an oven mitt like a life raft against a tsunami. It's all too much but you can't stop now. “I'm so sorry you have to see me like this. You have to…take care of me like this. After— God, I'm such an idiot! I wasn't thinking and now…now you have to…I'm like a helpless little nothing over here, and it's my fault!”

You don't want to look at him. You've already wasted enough of his time. He's seen you at your absolute worst, and even worse than that carried you around like you were his nonna. You have the image of him wheeling you around some Italian square, pigeons flying about while you tighten your old lady scarf around you. The idea of that injects you with a odd feeling of pity and mirth, and you utter a tired noise you're not sure is a laugh or another sob, but it's an embarrassing honk just the same.

“You’ve done too much. I…” And you say the quiet part out loud. “Copia I don't deserve all this.”

“Amore…is that it?” Copia settles in next to you and places his hand on your good leg.

You nod wordlessly, tears still streaming down your face. The people in the television laugh, unknowing of your inner turmoil. But the secret’s out now. To everyone, including yourself.

“In sickness and in health, si?” His mouth quirks as he struggles to stay serious. “That's ah…that's fifty percent of that sentence, yes? There's good times and there's em—well, not so good times.”

Now you want to apologize for being such a baby. From nonna to whining baby, the shame is giving you whiplash but his touch keeps you tethered in place. “Copia, I’m—”

“Sickness and in health. One hundred percent. I love you one hundred percent, amore,” he says bringing your hand to his lips. His eyes never leave yours as you feel his soft lips graze your knuckles. “Love is getting through the hard times, is it not?”

The moments of shame still dance in your head but his warm presence wards them off. His gaze has softened into something more, deeper. He knows all about you, he always has. So why not give into it. Give in to his gentle glance of love. “Amore….” he presses.

“Copia, thank you,” you whisper as he leans into an embrace.

“We'll laugh about this one day,” he purrs in your ear, his scent enveloping you once more. You bring a hand up to run your fingers through his hair and he utters one of his pleased little myehs that usually make you chuckle.

“Yeah, we will,” you sniff.

“Laugh about it on the Amalfi. Over some gelato. And now I'm retired we can really get into it, you know? Doing nothing somewhere nice. Would you like that?”

You would. The blue sky and the pink gelato and the white sand. His handsome freckled face laughing in the sun. His gold cornicello on a chain against his chest barely covered by a crisp linen summer shirt. And his black socks. Those fucking dress socks in his old man slides. Your smile returns. “I really would, Copia.”

He meets your eyes and senses the change in you, returns your shy smile with his own. “I love you,” he murmurs. He leans in close once more as his mouth meets yours. That tender kiss never gets old. What your mind can't learn from his words its taught with his lips. And they're damn good at convincing you you're loved more than you’ll ever know.

He pulls back with a gentle caress of your cheek and your tears become happy ones. You love this man, and he loves you. He'll love you whether he's sitting at an exotic cafe or your bedside at the hospital. It's the same place in his mind, as long as he's with you.

“But until then we can bear a few Downton Abbey reruns, si?” He settles in next to you and curls his fingers around your own. “What is this…lord so and so? What's her face em— what is she up to now?”

“You'll have to actually watch instead of talk over it, Copia dear,” you reply.

“Right, right. I'm suffering more than you, tesoro,” he chuckles. “Let's ah…keep it all in perspective, here.”

“Of course,” you say, and you rest your head on his chest. He's still wearing his silly apron but you couldn't care less. You can hear his heart beat through it just the same.

My Fic List | My AO3

Thank you for all your thoughts, kudos, kind words, reblogs, all o it

[godessanonymous]

OP81 - Pieces of you

Request: No.

Genre: Hurt, Comfort

Triggers: SH (semi-Graphic), mental health, mentions ofpsychwards.

Summary: Uni is draining you more than ever, causing you to relapse. Oscar finds you, he wants to help

Not proofread - 2.4k Words - will most likely be updated/rewritten at some point

TRIGGER WARING UNDER THE BREAK !!! Please stay safe!

Bloody Arms. Bloody legs. A blade and a empty pill bottle on the floor. Red stains on the bathroom floor. A frantic nurse running in yelling out to another nurse. Words you could not quite make out. Everything was a blur. You knew what you did. But you barely felt the pain.

It had been 3 years since you were discharged from the psych ward for the final time, you have been getting better ever since.

 About one and half years ago you met Oscar, your now boyfriend. You had met at a bar after a race of his. You worked as a logistics manager for Red Bull so it wasn’t unusual for you to be at the track every now and then. At first you hadn’t recognized the young Australian when he chatted you up at the counter of the small bar. He was clearly a little drunk but still one of the politest men you had come across whilst going out. The alcohol helped him work up courage and at the end of a fun night getting to know each other and dancing he awkwardly asked for your number. At this point you had recognized him but after some thinking you decided to give him your number. He was cute, gentle, and certainly a very calm person. You liked that, so why not. It was time to get back into the dating game.

The chatting stage was a little awkward but once he found out you worked in motorsports as well, he started to get a little more chatty. It wasn’t long until he asked you out for dinner. He did not disappoint, a fancy restaurant in the middle of town, it was the best night of your life you thought. Even though you tried to hide it best you could in the early stages of your relationship, he eventually saw your scars. To your surprise he didn’t seem disgusted or disappointed, how people usually reacted. He seemed worried but approached the topic in the right way. He asked you if you were okay to tell him about it. Later he told you that he didn’t mind them, he didn’t think they were ugly. They were a new part about you he didn’t know.

After that you became a lot more open about your past struggles. Sometimes they still got to you, but it got less and less as time passed. A panic attack here and there, being overwhelmed and days you just slept. Oscar was your rock, he felt just as safe as you around him and took care of you when you weren’t doing that well. Same goes for you, sometimes Oscar would get home absolutely drained, then it was your turn to make sure he recovered a bit.

He wasn’t home all the time; his job simply made that impossible. You both dearly missed each other during the long weekends and time spent away from each other. Your love language was touch after all, being deprived of it for weeks was hard, for Oscar too.

The past two weeks had been such weeks, Uni was in the midst of the exam phase at the end of the semester, and it was safe to say you were struggling hard. You were passing your exams, some well others just barely. But you made it through. The cost? Your mental and physical health, you didn’t sleep enough anymore, probably not eating enough. You noticed the familiar feeling of numbness creeping back into your body, your ability to focus was slowly declining and you got more and more tired, basically running on caffeine at this point. One last exam tomorrow, one last all nightery to make it work, one last grind until your break.  Two days after that Oscar was set to return home. Finally.

You walked out of the exam room toward the exit of the big university building, your hand was still a little cramped up and head hurting. The exam went okay, it wasn’t your best work but you would pass, you were pretty sure about that at least. You never know until you get the results but feeling somewhat decent about it was a good thing. You trusted your gut.

Right now, your gut was telling you that you need either rest, alcohol or a hug. Two of those weren’t options so rest seemed the only logical thing to do.

It was finally over. That’s all you could think about as you walked back into the apartment you and your boyfriend shared. It was a mess, the dishes weren’t done, clothes on the floor and papers and materials scattered all over the size of the flat.

You felt disappointed in yourself, Oscar shouldn’t have to come back to a messy home. You really should clean, but the energy just wasn’t there anymore, all you wanted to do was fall into the soft sheets of your bed and finally let your body relax. You suddenly became painfully aware of how tense your body was. All your muscles were hard and hurting from all the work you had been doing.

You didn’t even have the energy to get changed and just sunk into the bedsheets wearing a 3 day old hoodie just barely managing to get the jeans off your legs. The sheets felt cold, not as comfortable as you had hoped. You missed the warmth of Oscars body against yours. He was always so warm, no idea how but he was like a human heating pad. Thinking of him you fell asleep finally.

It was almost 4 PM when you woke up. You were still beyond tired, yet your body wouldn’t let you rest anymore. That all so familiar tingly feeling cooking up inside your body, feeling it in your veins, your bones, everywhere. Your breath hitches, gut clenching as the panic overwhelms you. The place you were in was dangerous, you couldn’t go back there. Into that dark place you almost paid with your life with to get out of. Those lonely nights, cold white rooms and silver blade across your skin.

Despite even the thought of it making you want to scream, the want of a release right now was so high. What else was there to do? You still had them, those sharp silver metals. You knew exactly where they were, stuck to the bottom of your bedside drawer with some tape. A place where no one could find them ever. Just for you, a safety net to fall back on.

After all these years you still couldn’t let go. Your last relapse was almost a year ago, you had hidden it from Oscar. The burning tension under your skin. The thought of feeling again. How good it felt. It was all overwhelming you. Tears long dried out and your mind taking over. You lost control of what you were doing. You didn’t want this.

The familiar feeling of regret kicked in hard. In the moment you felt euphoric, feeling something finally. All the tension getting release for just a couple of seconds. What had you done. No. You ruined it again. Everything. Your progress- all for nothing.

It was a bad one, the red lines spreading all across your thighs some even having been placed on your already scarred wrists. They didn’t need stiches, you made sure of that. But they stung, like hell, like they always did.

The bleeding stopped. A bit of it had already made its way onto the sheets. It was too late to clean up that mess now. You needed to get up. Eat. Drink water. Clean. Get everything ready for Oscar tomorrow. Oscar. Fuck- he was going to be back so soon. He couldn’t see you like this. What if he was disappointed, angry, what if he was going to leave you.

This was all your fault. Every fiber of your body was screaming at you to get back up, clean up and move. But your mind refused to move a single muscle.

The exhaustion of fighting your own mind finally kicked in enough to make you drift back off into the land of dreams. Failing to notice the messages and a missed call from you loving man.

Oscar unlocked the front door of your shared apartment in anticipation. It was 2PM you should be up by now. He couldn’t wait to finally feel your skin again. The body, voice and warmth of his loved girl.

He was surprised to find the apartment still dark, blinds shut. He quietly placed down his suitcase as his eyes adjusted to the light levels of the rooms. It was a bit of a mess, dishes piling up on the kitchen island and random papers and clothes scattered all over. Taking quite steps toward the bedroom he grew more and more worried. He knew you had a lot on your hands with school and all the work that came with it. You hadn’t mentioned that it was this bad though. It looked like you had not been taking care of yourself at all.

Reaching the wooden door he pushed the handle down and slowly swung the door open. There you were, in a pile of blankets, looking ever so small. The bedroom was even messier than any of the other rooms of the house. “Oh baby…” he mumbled, as he was about to walk over to the bed to gently wake you up to greet you.

That’s when he noticed. One of your sleeves was rolled up, red still staining it. The smallest bit of your thigh peeking out under the fluffy blankets. His eyes widened at this sight. His heart broke a little. His favorite person was doing terrible and he hadn’t noticed… why didn’t you say anything. How did it get this bad. What was he going to do? All those questions running through his mind simultaneously.

“Oh god- Love? Hey?” He said, louder this time. Worry filling his voice to a point of almost breaking.

You woke up to the familiar voice. He was home already? Oh lord he was home already. No this cant be, he wasn’t supposed to see this. You opened your eyes to stare in the wide open, worried eyes of Oscar. “Osc- I’m so sorry, i- I’m okay“ you tried to reassure him tears already rolling down your face. He took a big step towards the bed and collapsed by your side. “No love no your not. What’s going on, talk to me. Please-“ He chocked out. You cried, you tried to speak but you couldn't. Oscar just laid there. Arms wrapped tightly around you. All he wished was that he could protect you from this. It shouldn’t have happened, you should be safe now. The thought of you needing him and him not being there broke his heart.

You laid like that for close to a hour before your sobs started to finally slow down and shrink down to quiet sniffles.  “I’m sorry Oscar I’m so sorry, you weren’t supposed to see this. I’m sorry-“ you choked out. “No darling don’t apologize, its not your fault. I’m sorry that you are struggling like this. I’m here now you’re okay baby.” He responded. You could tell he was broken seeing you like this. But all he wanted is to take care of you right now. Make you feel better in any way he could. “let me help you please. What can I do for you right now?” The question seemed overwhelming, you weren’t sure what to respond. Food? A shower? More cuddles? All of those if it was possible.

Oscar took note of your indecisiveness and gave you options instead. “Okay how about we go get your cuts cleaned and bandaged, ill order some food and we watch your favorite show. Or if you’re ready we can talk about it.” He said, voice sounding ever so gentle. “Yes please.”

He got off the bed and you immediately missed the comforting presence. He was quick to return with a small first aid kit.

The wound disinfectant stung, you let out a pained noise. Oscar stopped, looking up at you for your okay to keep going. You gave him a small nod. His touch was so light, he didn’t want to hurt you more. White bandages soon covered all the open skin where the blade had done its dance across the pale skin of your sleep deprived body.

The food didn’t take long to get there. It was your favorite Chinese Place. Its what you ordered almost every time when Oscar returned from races. It was comfort food.

You were back in bed. The rookie, your comfort series playing on the big screen across from you. You cuddled as close to your boyfriends body as possible. You couldn’t stop the quite apologies tumbling from your lips but Oscar was quick to shut it down. “Love, I am not mad at you. Non of this is your fault. We will get this sorted out. We can clean together, we can get you all the help you need. We are going to put you first. You’ll be okay. I promise. You’re so incredibly strong, you’ve got this okay. I love you.” He said, his chest vibrating against your ear. His hands were roaming your body, leaving small kisses wherever he could reach. He wanted you to feel loved. He knew you loved him and he loved you but he wanted to make sure you knew it in this exact moment.

As you were finding embrace in his strong arms he reached for a pen on the side of the bed. He pulled the cap of with his teeth and gave you a questioning look. You were confused. What did he want with that pen. He decided to show you, as he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled it in front of himself. He started doodling on the top part of your arm, the part not covered by bandages. He drew little stars, and butterflies.  

It made your eyes water again. “You’re so beautiful my love.” He said drawing another small butterfly.

He was what you need. All you needed. He was your rock, and he was always there to pick up every ever so tiny piece of you when you broke apart. That’s what love is about. Being there when the other needs it the most. You understood that now more than ever.

This oneshot very much stems from my own struggels, for anyone feeling the same. I hope youre doing alright. Youre doing great bean, youve got this. It gets better i promise.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Can we have a fluff with secret!reader like Jason is comforting her because her body hurts or something like that ? pleeeeaaase 😭

"It looks like it's healing good," Jason said, smoothing ointment over your burns tenderly.

"It hurts," you whimper. "All the time."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured. Leslie had given him explicit instructions when he declared his intentions to take over your care. To hide you. To protect you to keep your sister from trying to finish the job.

He'd had pages and pages of instructions. Foods to eat. Things to avoid. Lots of protein. Stretches to do. Things to look out for as the grafts healed... He'd been afraid of infection. Of grafts rejecting or something. But- you were healing.

And tired of eating so much protein.

"I know I shouldn't complain but-"

"You aren't complaining," Jason said softly, adjusting to be able to see to the wounds on your hands. "You're telling me it hurts- and that's important. I need to know it hurts and how- different pain or-"

"The same pain," you sigh.

"Do you want a pain pill?" he asked seriously. You'd rarely taken them. And at night he could hear you crying. He'd never pushed them. He knew how easy it was to get addicted and how ugly addiction could get- but he worried. Constantly.

You needed rest to recover.

"I don't-"

"I think you should," he said softly. "Have you slept at all?"

"Fits and starts-"

"Collapsing from exhaustion doesn't count," he said going to get you a pain pill and a glass of water. He hadn't pushed it before, but he would now. He didn't save your life just to have you die in his guest room from an infection you couldn't fight.

[kqzii]

Secret Roommate (Chapter 1)

Paring: TF Sukuna x Female reader

Summary: You're a retired jujutsu sorcerer, trying your best to live a normal life again until a frightening being pays you a visit...a 'visit' that turns into your daily life.

Warnings: Nsfw! Smut, Fingering, double penetration, mentions of death, blood, roughness, orgasms, unprotected sex, nipple play. MDNI

Word count:4k

-

You first started working as a jujutsu sorcerer from the heavy inspiration your grandparents gave off to you. Naturally, life became more difficult with seeing death and countless horrific sites. Trying to go on and pursue your career as a sorcerer eventually became too overwhelming for you. Life at Jujutsu high did have its fair share of fun and memorable moments, but none of those seemed to be enough. You first started considering quitting many months before you actually did.

There was only one thing that kept your quitting on hold for so long. But that doesn't matter now, right? It was only foolish to think of. So, you took sides with a coworker you had met there, Nanami, and left. That was over a year ago now. But thankfully you still keep in touch with the friends you made there. Yuuji, Nobara, Gojo, and a few others. They're not people you would want to let go of and just abandon, they really meant something to you.

-

You were so preoccupied with your work to just now notice it's time to clock out when you saw everyone leaving the building. You felt so glad the day was finally over. You grabbed your keys and jacket and began to head outside. Then that's when you hear that same familiar cheerful voice coming from out the corner of the building. The usual spot he walks out from.

"Heyy, Y/n!"

You look over to your left with a smile on your face. His cheerfulness always seemed to be the light of your day.

"Hey Yuuji!"

The pink headed boy walked up to you with a toothy grin. "How was work?"

Awful. You thought. You considered telling him about your day but quickly shoved those thoughts out. You would never want to make him worry about your problems. "Just the usual." you responded.

"Soooo? How about sushi for tonight? Only Kugisaki and Megumi is gonna come with though." His smile faded. "Maki got injured during a fight. Don't worry it's not serious...but she's not exactly in perfect condition. She should recover in about a week though."

Your soft smile turned into a slight frown. "Oh...well at least it's not that serious like you said."

That's when you were reminded of the very day that made you quit being a jujutsu sorcerer. People you care about being hurt. Though Luckily this time it wasn't death.

"I'm sorry Yuu but I just don't feel like it tonight. I'm pretty tired." You felt bad for backing out when Maki wasn't coming either, but today just made you want to go straight to your bed and forget.

An exaggerated frown stretched his face. "Awwww what? I drove here and everything!"

You gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll come tomorrow though, I promise."

He looked back you with an annoyed expression. "Fine I guess I'll just deal with drunk Nobara on my own then."

"I thought you said Megumi was coming though?"

He crossed his arms. "You know he doesn't deal with drunk people very well."

"Oh right. Sorry Yuuji." You shrugged.

He groaned.

But he let it go and gave a soft smile and began to turn his body away. I'll get going then. But you better not break that promise!"

"Goodnight y/n!"

You chuckled. "I won't! Goodnight."

-

It was 10:30 pm and you had just got into your apartment building, slowly walking through the hall till you reached your door, so eager to get the warm and soft comforting feeling of your bed. You're exhausted, tossing your keys over to the kitchen counter, and yawning non-stop. Today had been so draining. Your boss yelled at you for such minor mistakes and threatened to fire you if he doesn't see improvement. You already work so hard at your job and just to hear that bullshit made you want to go off at him finally giving him a piece of your mind, but of course for your financial sake, you didn't.

All you can think about is how shitty your work life is. It bothers you that you can't even come home without something from work pissing you off. But you try to calm down and get ready for bed anyways. You walk into your room and change into a simple tank top and shorts. Just as you finish throwing it on yourself, you hear an alarmingly loud door slam open, making you gasp loudly. You cover your mouth in shock whilst trying to figure out what it was. But then you realized…you recognized the sound.

The balcony.

You try to think logically as to what could have possibly caused it. Was it the wind? Some kind of animal? Frantically looking around your room to try to find anything that could be used as a weapon, all you found was just some small flashlight on the nightstand. Seeing as it was your only option, you quickly snatched it and started walking towards your door. Surely it can't be a person, right? If it was some robber you would've at least heard them go through the front door first. Maybe it really was just the wind, nothing else would make sense, right?

All these thoughts were running through your head, trying to calm you down, but failed miserably and only made you even more anxious. With a few more moments of debating on what to do, you eventually reason with yourself, telling yourself it couldn't be anything more than some stupid misunderstanding.

Foolishly, you begin to open your door and slowly walk down the narrow hallway, trying to keep the flashlight from falling out of your profusely shaky hands. Finally making it to the end of the hall.

"H-hello?"

You felt an immense wave of relief from hearing no response, but that quickly got shot down when whip your head around to see the balcony door slid wide open. The lock had been completely broken off and was lying on the floor. You could feel light gusts of wind drifting upon your pale, trembling figure. Only mere seconds had passed until you felt something sharp slowly scraping your exposed shoulder. You stood frozen as you began to realize the fact that there was a hand placed on you.

Large,

thick,

and with sharp black nails.

"Looking for me?" A deep, gruff intimidating voice asked.

You slowly turned your head upwards to see a huge, frightening, muscular man-wait, man? This was no regular man-or human for that matter. He had four eyes as well as four arms that each had black markings, markings that were on his chest, torso, and face. As your finally eyes met his vicious crimson ones, he grinned at you as he watched your little horrified face. Is this real? Is he really behind you right now?

You couldn't just keep standing here forever. You need to fight back. You need to do something. You finally snap out of your frightened gaze and quickly struggle out of his hold and-without any thought- try to strike him with your flashlight. It was a pathetic attempt and you knew it, but it was the only thing you could think of. You think it might be a success until he catches it before it can hit him. He squints his eyes in annoyance. The light was hitting directly on them.

"Ugh! How irritating." He snarls, before pressing his thumb on the flashlight's lens and breaking through it. He continues digging into the glass until it shut off like it was nothing. Then, everything turned dark. The glass of the lens shatters to pieces and starts to crumble onto the floor. He destroyed it in only a matter of seconds.

You started to panic when you realized you couldn't see him anymore. It was pitch black. You immediately started to move backwards, trying to get as further away from the monster as much as you can. You were shaking so much more than you already were. The beating of your heart felt so loud, like he could even hear it.

When your back hit the wall, you just stood there. You felt so defenseless. Like this was it.

But you just stood there.

And stood there.

Nothing was happening. What is happening? Then that's when you heard a loud, deep sigh. All of the sudden, the kitchen light turned on.

And that's when you saw him. The light had revealed a huge frightening cursed spirit, standing at his staggering height.

Ryomen Sukuna.

"Relax. Let's just chat for a bit."

You didn't know what to say. You scanned your eyes on him. He was holding his spear in his upper right hand. There was red stained on the tip. Blood. He looked almost angry as if he just came here to calm down. But why was there blood on his spear?-Or a better question; Who's is it?

You had remembered him back at jujutsu high. Sukuna had been accepted and trusted to help sorcerers with important missions. In the beginning, there were suspicions and accusations. Of course, Gojo still had his eye on him, but Sukuna's help was much too impactful to ignore. He even saved Yuuji at some point. Even that was enough to gain your trust. Not many people including you had got any actual details as to why they let him stay there, but there were rumors of a pact. A deal. He did his part and helped kill other curses. Though you remember what he was like. An asshole that would always tease you or make fun of how you fought other cursed spirits. He always helped weaker sorcerers with missions. The higher-ups even gave him his own room.

So why? Why is he here right now? Why the hell is he in your apartment with a bloody spear in his hand? You haven't seen him in so long you thought he would be out of your life now.

"What the fuck are you doing here!?" You yelled.

He raised an eyebrow, he was confused as to why you sounded like you knew him. He focused his eyes on you. Then a look of a mix of shock and amusement struck his face.

"Y/n?"

He paused for a moment. "Ahh I knew that voice sounded familiar." he chuckled. "What a small world ey?"

You stood quiet.

"And here I thought I'd never see you again. Well, this should be easy to explain now. I'm sure you'll understand." He said while spreading a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Just...why are you here? What do you want?" This whole situation caught you so off guard you didn't know what to think. Shouldn't he be at jujutsu tech?

"And...is that blood?" You hesitantly asked.

He peered over at the tip of the spear before glaring back at you. "Oh, that's right. I just got into a little... disagreement with someone. No need to worry your pretty little head over it."

"Did you kill them?" You asked, anxious to hear his response, praying that it wasn't true.

"Relax, they aren't people you care about." Soon after he said that he started slowly walking towards you. Your heart began racing, you started backing up.

"They!?" You yelled with all the little braveness you had left in you.

He was getting closer.

"What the hells has gotten into you? Why are you here? Who did you kill!? Wh-" Your bundle of panically thrown-out questions came to a stop there was a sudden clank sound. He lightly tossed his spear against one of the kitchen counters.

"I need to stay here." He said as he glared down at your small figure.

"W-what?" You choked out. His abrupt claim caught you off guard. His voice sounded more quiet and soft. You were too caught up in panicking to even notice he was even closer to you than before.

"I was banned from jujutsu tech. Only because of a small 'incident'. Bastards didn't have any regard for all the help I've done." Banned? You thought. Incident? Just what the hell happened? Why are you just finding out now?-"Said if they see me killing anyone again they'd hunt me down and try to execute me. I'm sick of them. All their shitty morals." He began to run his large hand in between his pink hair. As if his head was hurting just thinking about it.

"I was simply looking for somewhere to stay the night." He continued. "Was just gonna get rid of the owner if they were gonna be a pain in the ass."

A menacing grin plastered his face. "But I see the situation has changed. I won't have to do that now. Surely no doll like you would ever be worth just getting rid of."

"What!?- No! You can't stay here-" You started protesting until you were suddenly cut off when he took a step forward, menacingly.

"I wasn't exactly planning on asking them for permission." He was even closer to you now. His tall, broad muscular body was completely towering over you. You could almost feel the heat of his intense stare on you. Even though part of you felt still felt utterly terrified, the other part felt glad that this was the only thing he wanted. But the problem still stands, you were loyal to the laws of jujutsu. You still respected it.

You kept your head down, too scared to look him in. The eye.

"I can't." You uncontrollably muttered.

"What's that?" "I can't!" You finally gained the courage to look up at his face. Your eyes finally met his. "Under jujutsu regulations, this is forbidden! I'm not just gonna let you stay here just so you ca-"

You were about to push him away until you were cut off when his lips suddenly crashed into yours. He roughly placed one of his large hands on your cheek, while slowly rubbing your jawline with his thumb. His other hand roughly grabbed your wrist and held it. He kept going forward, forcing you to walk backwards until your back hit the wall. His tongue was fervently moving deeper and deeper into your mouth. It was warm. The grip he had on you had completely riveted you.

You let out whimpers, moans, all too engrossed in the kiss to do anything but whine. His lips finally parted after what seemed like forever. His deep voice fell quieter. "I knew you always wanted this." There was a slick string of saliva parting from your mouth to his. "Maybe this oughta change your mind, yeah?" You gasped when you felt your shorts being quickly torn apart. You could see shreds of it falling onto the floor. Your face began to feel as if it was on fire as you squirmed at the sudden roughness prodding at your clothed cunt. Your panties being the only thing left. He moved your panties aside and was feeling every part of you. He spread your folds and rubbed your clit. You flinched when you felt him push his finger in. He started to curl his finger, causing an involuntary moan to come out of you. You were about to say something when he yet again pressed his surprisingly soft lips against yours. As if he did it to shut you up.

You were too enraptured by the stimulation and the kiss to even realize your feet are now off the ground. Your legs are being held around his waist by his lower arms. Everything was happening so fast. So impatiently. Your vision felt foggy. You could only see glimpses of his spear, then the hallway, and now your bedroom walls. The only source of light was the kitchen light barely shining through the hallway to your room. You hitched your breath when you were roughly thrown onto your own bed. He paused to fully capture your lying figure. His dark red vermillion eyes were staring down at you so intently.

You thought back to when he said he knew you wanted this. Was it really true? You've never felt so aroused like this in your life. You knew deep down you weren't going to argue, or resist. Why? Why is this happening? Why aren't you saying something? Why are you...allowing it?

You just watched as he took his-what seemed to be some kind of robe- off and let it fall to the ground. Your eyes trailed his body, then down. You could feel every muscle in your body tighten as you lay your eyes on two massive dicks. Two. Two!? Sukuna watched your terrified expression with amusement. He knew that face was coming.

You couldn't help but squirm at his intimidating sensation. Both of his red tips were leaking with precum and were slowly rubbing against your leaking cunt. He gripped his large hands on your waist and began to tear your panties. You whined when his tips were now really touching you. Feeling your folds, your clit, all of you.

"W-wait...I can't! Th-they won't fit!" Your voice was embarrassingly shaky. You couldn't help it. No matter how hard you tried.

"No need to worry doll. You have two holes for a reason don't you?" He coaxed with a grin.

Your eyes widened. You had never thought of having any kind of anal sex before. Just thinking about you being stuffed in both holes was extremely overwhelming. But he didn't care. His crimson eyes observed your emotions. He saw that look of fear in your eyes but showed no signs of any prudentness. Both of his red tips were now prodding both holes. He imagined the sounds that he was about to make come out of your pretty mouth. Your face when your so fucked dumb you won't even be able to speak. Your pussy filled with his cum. All your reactions up until now have done nothing but fuel him.

Suddenly, he roughly pinned you down by your wrists. The violent grip of his large hands could make you feel the blood rushing to your hand. Another arm took a hold of your hip, steadying your position.

You didn't even get the chance to think when he thrusted both of his cocks into you. Your mind went completely blank. You were being split in two in a matter of seconds. You could only let out a loud moan in a mix of slight pleasure and pain. He drove both of his cocks so deep you could almost see the fucking bulge in your stomach. You could feel every vein grazing your velvety walls. He slowly withdrew his hips, letting you know what you're gonna have to adjust to. He was teasing you with his tips rubbing against your cunt and ass for a moment. Just for him to ram back into you, causing you to jolt at the violent intrusion. His thrusts are so harsh, so unforgiving. Your eyes instantly closed shut, and your mouth hung wide when his dick shoved against your g-spot. His dick twitched inside you from hearing the screams of your voice.

And here you are, being fucked by the King of Curses in your own bed. The very bed you had yearned for and thought you were going to get peaceful sleep in. But now this is replacing that. There's no peace. And there's sure as hell no rest. He began to trail one of his tatted hands up from your chest to your neck. You felt a sudden wetness slathering you. A tongue. He formed a mouth on his hand and was sucking on your neck. You winced when he started to slowly dig the teeth into your sensitive flesh. Leaving his dominant marks. After finishing with your neck, he trailed your body. Your breasts, stomach, waist, and thighs. Leaving light bruises, marking your body as his.

You dug your nails into your palm as his tips were hitting so deep into you. His cock was smushing your g-spot over and over again. He loved how tight you felt. He loved the squeeze on his cocks as your juices coats them.

You reached your arms out and gripped onto his thick forearms for dear life. The little pain you felt from his teeth was nothing compared to your ass. Your rectum felt like it was on fire. The pain wasn't anything like you had imagined it would be like. He knew.

Sukuna leaned down to your face and reached out his arm to your ear. He began gently putting your hair behind your ear before bringing his lips to it. "The pain won't last too long darling, I promise." You could feel the warm abrade of his breath tingle throughout your ear. You clench at his words, earning a deep grunt from him.

"Fuck, you're so damn tight. I'll just loosen you up for you then."

His thrusts were filled with pure belligerence. His rapid pace knocked every breath you had left in you. You gasped when you could feel your nipples harden from being exposed. You were too deep in arousal to notice he carelessly ripped your top off. You feel such sharp jolts shooting through your body. The feeling of pain mixed with pleasure made your head go numb. He grunted at the feeling of both your pussy and ass deliciously squeezing around him. Both girths filled you so well.

Your sense of reality felt destroyed. There was only one thing on your mind. Sukuna. Sukuna Sukuna Sukuna. Then you finally said it.

"Mmm...p-please, don't stop!"

After the pain began to fade, you realized something. You felt so satisfied. Not just physically wise, but mentally. Like this is what was missing. This is why you almost stayed at jujutsu tech. This is why you could never stop thinking about him. This is why you always had that undying regret of leaving.

His face paused for a moment. Then came out a deep chuckle. "I won't."

He finally freed your wrist from his cruel grasp and caressed your breast. Squeezing your soft flesh so hard yet gentle. His finger found itself on your sensitive bud. Rubbing and kneading it, adding even more stimulation to your body. He twisted your nipple, causing you to let out whines. He again formed a mouth on his palm and sucked your breast. The moist tongue licked and wet your chest.

He was right. You did always want this. You have always wanted him.

He continued with his relentless pace except this time there were no screams from you or any excruciating pain. It was sheer pleasure and you loved it. You loved his cocks filling you so full you can't even remember your own name. Your juices were leaking out of you and completely soaking him. Every stretch sent a shot of pleasure through your body. "You take me so well don't you? Gonna make you mine." You didn't know what he meant by that, you could just barely comprehend his sentence. Your only response was more moans and whimpers.

This went on for what felt like hours. You were being so fucked dumb you had lost track of time.

His pants grew louder, and so did yours. He let out a loud, deep groan. Your lecherous scream filled the room as he filled you with his warm cum. "Fuuuck~" His sonorous voice came out in a breathless tone. He stuffed you so full it was leaking out of you. Your limp body was left panting. Your chest rises up and down non-stop.

He leaned his weight against you, bringing his mouth to your ear and started nipping your earlobe. Slowly sliding his milked cocks in and out of you.

"You don't mind me staying now, do you?"

[semperama]

Daniel getting injured in ex-husbands with benefits universe… 👀

This takes place before the divorce. A little bit of a peek into how things might have started to fall apart. Sorry in advance for the angst. <3

It's dumb and petty, but Daniel's pissed at Max for the rest of the weekend.

Max couldn't have done anything. He wasn't realistically going to park his car, jump out, and run to Daniel over something as small as a broken hand. Or even something much bigger than a broken hand. They had this conversation before they got married, about whether they were both okay with the reality of being married to someone with such a dangerous job. It's one thing to take your life in your own hands daily; it's another thing to watch someone you love do it. But they both laughed it off. Of course it'd be fine.

But now Daniel's sitting with his arm in a sling, watching Max win his 6 millionth race in a row, and it's just--he's tired. He's tired of all of it. He wants someone who will jump out of their car and run to him. He doesn't think Max will ever be that person.

"I wanted to bring this one home for Daniel," Max says in his post-race interview, to cheers from the crowd. "We of course hope he will recover soon, but it was important to me to win this one for him."

Daniel knows the cameras will pan to him, so he makes himself smile, hoping he looks the part of the proud husband.

After the race they ride to the airport in silence, Daniel resting his head wearing against the window. Either Max doesn't notice anything is wrong, or he's content to let Daniel wallow in it for now, because he doesn't even attempt to drag Daniel into a conversation about the race or reassure him for the hundredth time that he'll be racing again in no time. He's been oblivious to Daniel's bad mood, for the most part. Too busy, probably. Too focused on racing. Daniel wishes he'd just...reach out. Pull Daniel's head into his lap. Kiss him. But then again, if he tried, Daniel would only push him away. The distance between them feels too big, too impossible.

He makes it about ten minutes into the flight home before he says, "I think I might retire."

Max's head whips toward him so fast, Daniel would laugh if he wasn't feeling so shitty. "What?" Max says. "Don't be stupid. Your hand will be fine."

"It's not about my hand," Daniel says, his anger rising quickly, so he has to swallow hard against it. Why can't Max just understand for once? "I'm just tired of being kicked around by this stupid fucking sport."

"Kicked around?" Max's whole body is tense. "Things have been good, though. I thought you were happy?"

"I was." He was. But now... It can all change too fast. He hates that feeling, of not being in control of any of it. "It'd work out for the best, I think. I've had a long career, and I could be, like, more supportive of you, if--"

"You know I don't care about that," Max says, and yeah, Daniel knows that's true. Despite what he said to the whole world after the race, Max doesn't race for anyone but himself. He's never cared about fans or admiration. Not even Daniel's. And maybe that part hurts too.

"If I do it, will you be okay with it?" Daniel asks, because ultimately this isn't a discussion. It's Daniel's decision to make. "I'm not saying right now. I'll get better and try to finish out the season. Maybe I'll even change my mind and do one more after that. But will you be okay with it?"

Max looks away for a second, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Daniel can see him visibly getting control of himself. It's--fuck, even when he's angry at him, Daniel still loves him so fucking much.

"Of course it is whatever you want, Daniel," Max says when he turns back to him. He reaches across the space between them and wraps his hand around Daniel's good wrist, squeezes it. "I just think you should not make any rash decisions."

"I won't," Daniel says. He turns his hand over, lets Max thread their fingers together. It feels good to touch him. The past few days are still sour in Daniel's mouth, but some of the tension eases when Max brushes his thumb along the length of Daniel's, then brings their combined hands up to his mouth and kisses the base of Daniel's thumb.

"Good," Max says. Then, "I love you."

"I love you too," Daniel says on a sigh. It wasn't so long ago he thought those words could fix anything. Now, he's not so sure.

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 6 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 3104

Act I, Chapter 6 - The Reveal

Another day passed with only wounds and tired adventurers to show for it. They seemed to be getting closer to their goals, but the goblins were so many, and they were so few.

You noticed that Astarion seemed particularly tired, his eyes looking a bit unfocused.

Before he left on his usual evening walk, you approached him.

“Yes?”

You just pointed at your neck.

He smiled. “I thought you’d never ask. I’ll come to you later tonight,” he said, his voice dipping a bit lower. You knew he was trying to sound sultry, but to you, he just sounded a little exhausted. You just nodded and walked away to clean around camp.

You weren’t excited about feeding him, but you also couldn’t let him go hungry. Not after what you felt last time.

***

"You bastard!"

You were sitting on your bedroll, Astarion sitting beside you. He was taking a long sip of your blood when you both heard Shadowheart yell. You both turned to see her glaring at Astarion, her stance ready to tackle him. Her yell had awoken the others, who were all coming out of their tents and gathering close. Seeing you, with blood running down your neck, and Astarion, your blood smeared on his lips, made everyone panic.

Gale held out one hand to you, his other hand clearly preparing a spell. “Don’t hurt her.”

Everyone else was reaching for their weapons.

You couldn’t let this misunderstanding continue. “No, wait!”

The others stared at you in varying levels of disbelief and dismay.

“You’d defend him?”

“He just bit you!”

“Are you under his thrall?”

“We should stake him.”

You purposely put your body between Astarion and everyone else. “Listen, he’s helped everyone so far, hasn’t he? And he’s done all this in a weakened state. So I’ve been feeding him.”

There was dead silence. Then the group looked at the pale elf.

“She’s a valued member of our group,” he said, turning his charm up to twenty as he shifted slightly out from behind you. “I would never jeopardize her wellbeing.”

“How do we know you won’t go too far?”

“I’ve never fed on sentient beings before,” he explained. When they all gave him a disbelieving glare, he amended, “except for our dear hearth witch, who volunteered.” He tipped his head, as if he suddenly had a thought. “And now that you all know, I could bite our enemies. No more concerns about going too far."

You looked at everyone. “Will that be acceptable?”

After a few more questions and answers, they all finally agreed to leave Astarion be. Some of them gave you one last worried look before turning away, returning to their tents.

You finally let out a sigh of relief. Turning back to Astarion, you found him staring at you, a curious expression on his face.

“If you can’t find any prey, you can still feed on me, if you like.”

He blinked in surprise, but quickly recovered. “Why darling, how generous of you."

You reached out and touched his upper arm, his sleeve protecting you from direct skin contact. “It’s my job to make sure you’re all fed. Even if it’s in unconventional ways.” You watched him look over at your hand, and then back up at you, a strange look in his eyes.

"Even though it hurts?” he asked quietly.

“Even though it hurts,” you repeated softly. You remembered what you felt through his touch as he fed on you. “I don’t want you to go hungry.”

There was something calculating in his expression. You reached down and squeezed his hand and you felt a flicker of gratitude. That was all you needed to confirm, and you let go of him.

“Well, good night,” you whispered.

“Good night, my sweet,” he purred.

Something about the change in his tone felt off, as if he had just put on a mask and was speaking behind it. But you didn’t have the energy to figure it out.

***

The next morning, nearly everyone seemed a bit on edge. You supposed that the reveal of having a vampire spawn in their midst had shaken the others, at least a little bit. On the contrary, Astarion seemed rather calm, as if he had been relieved of the burden of carrying such a secret.

You were wearing your scarf around your neck, as you had begun to do since Astarion first bit you, and now the others were eyeing it with new found understanding.

“So that’s why you cover up so much, even in this weather,” Gale said understandingly, nodding his head as if he were praising his own (incorrect) theory.

No, that’s not the only reason, but I’m not about to tell you that.

You discovered that everyone was getting ready to leave, for once. Usually one of them stayed behind to guard the camp. It must have been something big.

“We’re going to take on the goblin camp leaders,” Shadowheart explained when you asked.

You nodded. Maybe that's why everyone seemed tense earlier, not just about Astarion. You immediately began thinking of the herbs you would need to gather today to make the potions and nourishing stew that you knew they would need when they all returned.

As everyone began to head out, you wished them all good luck and to be safe.

I should probably prepare. And hope for the best.

***

You had been out gathering herbs and making potions all day, and a piping hot stew was cooking over the fire. Volo had told you that he would be staying at the druid’s grove for a bit to gather research for his new book, and to not expect him back tonight. That left only Withers and Scratch for company. Neither were much for conversation, so you got a lot accomplished.

The sun was setting as you filled your pot full of ingredients, the reds and oranges painting the sky, the golden light washing over the trees and rocks. A crisp breeze gently reminded you that autumn was just around the corner. You lit the campfire and watched the wood burn, lost in thought as you stared at the growing flames. Part of you worried about your adventurers, but another part of you trusted that they would return, safe and sound. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself to keep you from wringing yourself out from worry.

When your bell chimed, you jumped up and immediately headed towards the main pathway into camp. Seeing your party return, clearly tired but mostly hale and whole, filled you with a sense of relief. And as per usual, they had a new member in tow.

The tall, large elf introduced himself as Halsin. You recognized the name from a previous night’s conversation during supper.

“So you’re the archdruid,” you replied.

“Indeed I am. And you must be the hearth witch. Everyone seemed very keen to return to you, and your meals. I hear they are quite good,” he said with a smile.

You couldn’t help but grin back. It was nice to hear that your work was appreciated.

Leading everyone to the campfire, you pointed out the hot water rune around the corner in the river, away from prying eyes, if anyone wished to relax for a bit before they slept.

“Leave any dirty clothes outside of your tent, I’ll take care of them,” you said as everyone sat down around the fire. “You lot have had a long day.”

As you handed out bowls of stew, Astarion politely excused himself and left to patrol around the camp. Everyone had just accepted it as normal, and Halsin seemed to be either aware of his nature or tactful enough to not ask.

“Oh, do you have a tent?” you asked Halsin as you returned to the campfire after preparing the other tents.

He shook his head. “No, but I am content sleeping under the stars. Being one with nature is where I feel most comfortable.”

Definitely a textbook example of a druid. I bet he doesn’t even like clothes. “Still, I think we might have an extra bedroll somewhere.”

You went off to look for one in the pile of random loot that the party liked to bring back to you. Most of it still needed to be sorted for use or for trading, but you managed to find a bedroll, though it was ragged and a bit smelly. Bringing it over to an empty spot, you cast a cleaning and warming cantrip. Then you stared at all the rips and tears in the fabric, frowning.

Halsin came up to you just as you were working out how long it would take to mend the bedroll. “Thank you for letting me stay in your camp. Your stew was excellent. Had two helpings.” He patted his stomach.

“You’re very welcome,” you replied. You glanced at your companions, who were beginning to wander away from the fire towards their tents. “I just hope you can help them.”

He nodded. “I will do my best. They have done a great deed this day. The goblins should disperse.”

You felt relief. Maybe you could return to your cottage now, if the goblins were no longer a threat. But the thought of leaving the group now brought on a pang of sadness. Did you really want to leave them behind? 

He patted your shoulder, breaking you out of your inner thoughts. “This is more than enough,” Halsin said as he gestured towards the frayed bedroll. “After all, I came barging into your camp unannounced.”

You grinned. “I’m not done yet,” you said as you took a step back and put your hands out. You took a deep breath and sang the mending cantrip, stronger and faster than you had before. This wasn’t the delicate mending that Astarion’s shirt had been. The bedroll was made of rough cotton and hide. It could take a stronger song. Your arms and hands and fingers moved as if you were detangling a giant knot of yarn. Strings of orange light formed between your fingertips, creating a patterned weave that floated down, settling on the material and making it whole once more. 

When you finished, your throat felt parched and your hands felt strained, but the bedroll looked new.

You looked up to see nearly everyone else watching you.

“Wha-what?” you squeaked, suddenly shy.

“I’ve never heard you sing like that before,” Gale commented.

You shrugged. “I just hum for most of the little things around camp.”

“You should have been a bard,” Wyll said with a soft smile.

“Will you sing me a lullaby?” Karlach asked.

You shooed everyone away, feeling self-conscious and shy from their positive attention.

But inside, you were absolutely thrilled.

***

Late at night, while the others were asleep, you awoke to the soft chiming of the small silver bell that you had placed by your head, the one that was magically linked to the tripwire you had placed near the camp’s entry.

Getting up, you met the vampire at his tent, a bucket of heated water, a washcloth, and a soft, fluffy towel in hand.

He looked a little ragged, but healthy. His eyebrows raised at your presence. “Were you waiting for me?”

You nodded. “Figured you’d want to wash down after your meal before going to sleep. Or trance, I suppose.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up and he raised an eyebrow. “I see you have some knowledge.”

You shrugged. “I’ve known a few elves.”

“I see,” he said. He looked at the wooden bucket of steaming hot water in your arms. “So, are you going to wash me?” he asked suggestively, leaning in and giving you his best seductive smirk.

Aghast, you had to keep yourself from yelling. “No!” you rasped. You shoved the bucket at him. “Wash yourself!”

“But I can’t reach my back,” he said, pouting oh so perfectly.

You gawked for a moment. Was he being serious? No, he was just teasing you. Come now, you weren’t going to fall for that face of his again, were you?

But… What if he actually needed help?

“Fine,” you huffed.

He stared at you in shock for a moment. “I was only teasing,” he replied, suddenly sober. He took the bucket from you and started to duck into his tent.

You had whiplash from having to deal with this man’s moods. But you had caught the slightly wistful look on his face before he had turned away.

Dammit.

“Wait.”

“Hm?” He turned back to face you, halfway into his tent, holding up the flap with one hand, cradling the bucket in the other arm.

“Erm.” You let out a breath. Why do I keep doing this? “I can help. If you can't reach.”

He considered you for a moment before slowly stepping into his tent, keeping the flap open for you.

You had warmed up his tent before going to bed, and once the flap was down, the sounds of the outdoors became muted, leaving a peaceful, quiet space, perfect for winding down after a long day. He knelt down and placed the bucket by the entry. You touched the fabric of the tent to cast a light cantrip, and a soft glow lit up the room just enough to be comfortable, almost romantic.

Then he took off his armor and his shirt. You held back your gasp, but you couldn’t help but put your hand over your mouth in shock.

His back was marked by scars, a circular pattern with lines and dots.

Silently, he soaked the towel in the hot water and handed it to you. 

Realizing that you had come to him in your sleeping clothes, you swallowed. Just don’t touch him directly. Keep the towel between my hands and his skin. Oh gods, this was a dumb idea.

“Well?”

You knelt down beside him, took the towel, and began to gently scrub his back. Beneath your touch, his muscles felt stiff. When the towel went lower toward his waistline, he tensed, as if he was bracing himself. You couldn’t help yourself; you were so curious about his mental state that you tentatively touched his shoulder with your bare hand. A very muted sense of tiredness came through, nothing more. He's guarded tighter than a bank.

You continued to wash the rest of his back, but your eyes kept tracing on the pattern on his skin. You ran your hand along lines of his scars before you realized what you were doing, and quickly moved to soak the towel once more, hopefully hiding what you had done. 

"Curious?" 

Dammit, he caught me. "I didn't want to pry," you said. 

"Your touch gave you away." After a moment, he asked, "What do you think?" 

You stared at the symbols and patterns. You had seen something like this before, long ago. "I… I think it's infernal."

He suddenly turned to you. "What?" 

"What?" you asked in return, equally confused. “I thought you were testing me.”

“No, I…” He looked away. “I was told it was a poem.”

“Who the hell would carve a poem onto someone’s back?” you rasped in anger.

Astarion was quiet for a long time. You waited patiently, wondering if he would tell you, as you continued to wash his back, then his shoulders. Finally, his head dipped down, and he took a deep breath.

“Cazador. My… master.”

Suddenly words came spilling out from him. He told you what happened the night he got his scars, who his master was, and what he was. A vampire spawn. Just a tool to be used for his master’s whims, with none of the powers and all of the setbacks. You hadn’t needed to touch him to know that he felt vehemently bitter about it. 

You understood, perhaps not completely, but to some degree. Your ten years of servitude felt like a drop in the bucket now. Two hundred years. You couldn’t even imagine it.

“You’re quite admirable,” you mumbled as you put the washcloth back in the bucket.

“Whatever for?”

“You survived,” you said simply.

He was quiet for a few moments. “I suppose I have,” he finally said.

“Have you ever seen your scars?”

“Difficult to do that without a reflection,” he sniped.

“Right, sorry,” you mumbled, berating yourself for the dumb question. Then you had an idea. “What if I drew it for you? Do you have ink and paper?”

“I— this isn’t your problem, you know.”

You nodded. “I know. So do you have any?”

He pointed to his stack of books, and next to it were a quill and an inkwell.

“No paper?”

“Just… write inside one of the covers,” he said, a little impatiently.

You grabbed the book on top of the stack. The title was The Quarta Sune. You raised an eyebrow at the cover before you flipped open the back cover. The last page was blank. Settling yourself in for a bit, you carefully drew the pattern on his back, every line, every dot, perfectly in place. You blew on the ink to dry it and handed it to him.

He stared at the drawing, his brows furrowed. “What in the hells? What did he do to me…”

“Perhaps Karlach can read it.”

“Perhaps. But what will it say?” Then he looked up at you. “Thank you, by the way. This is… well, it’s something.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Will we? How…” He paused, his expression changing. “...sweet.”

He had that calculating look on his face again, and it made you uncomfortable. You started to get up, but he touched your arm. Once again, his emotions were muted, so you couldn’t sense much of anything.

“Darling,” he purred, “Why don't you stay awhile?”

You looked at him. He didn’t seem hungry, so you didn't think he was subtly asking for a drink. His fingers slowly moved up and down on your bare arm, a whisper of a caress, nothing more. You could have easily moved your arm away, but honestly? Having a physical touch without the emotional baggage was nice.

No, no, he’s shielding for a reason, and it can’t be good.

You touched his hand again. There was no emotion, nothing at all. It was like he had completely hidden behind a rock solid fortress in his heart. 

Something was deeply wrong and it was going to take more than a few paltry words from you to help him. You suddenly felt the urge to run away; you didn't know how to handle the situation.

“I'm a bit tired… so, erm, good night,” you blurted out as you fled from his tent.

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

Chapter 6 End notes: Definitely manipulating some of the existing in-game dialogue to suit the situation! I’ve got the next couple of chapters written up, just need to edit and make sure I keep posting regularly. Did you find the Quatra Sune book in your game? Let me know! And please comment, I very much enjoy seeing your feedback! (And please reblog, help spread my story around so other people can read a cozy story!)

[birrdies]

needs

last life fic (1.8k words)

Etho was good at mostly being alone. 

Silences were easy things to fill with simple nothings: tinkering with faulty machinery, tearing his latest project down to its barest bones and starting all over (just for the hell of it), exploring as far as his tired legs would carry him. When hands are busy and a mind is occupied, it’s difficult to notice the nothingness close in on him. 

Solitude. It didn’t matter the world or game. To Etho, it was as much a talent as it was instinct. To build a fortress up from the ground and pretend he didn’t care that he didn’t have enough to fill the empty rooms. To spend nights alone, because it’s for the best. Because he didn’t need it any other way. There was nothing he needed that he couldn’t wear nor fit in his pockets. 

There were things he wanted, sure, but need and want were different things. Want was frivolous; it was a thorn in his side that he never could muster the courage to pull out. Need, was permanent. Need was saved for when things went bad. When the thorn was ripped from skin, when he needed to staunch the bleed. 

This game wasn’t any different.

Want was a crumbling snowy castle resting like a tomb in the center of the end of the world. Want was a pair of twin staircases, a shield painted red and blue, and his name scrawled on the deed to his own freedom, handed straight into the hands of a madman. 

Need was a fence splitting their home in two, the ravine and impossible task that separated them. Need was a burrow underground, a set of new faces, a message of death written in red. 

Need was picking at the remains of what once stood as his home like a vulture. 

Only one of the towers still stood. The moon hung low in the sky overhead, a silver spotlight on everything that he once had. The ground was upturned all the way through to the stone underneath. Dirt and wood and remaining pits of soul sand sunk into the holes dug and blown into the groundwork of the castle. Like it had tried burying its own body but couldn’t quite get the job done. 

Etho skulked his way across the wreckage. This place belonged to the enemy now. It wasn’t his home anymore, no matter how much it masqueraded as such. 

There wasn’t much left. A few potions he’d tucked away underground days before. A beaten set of iron armor. Scraps of gold and stale bread. Less than he wanted and more than he needed. The rest he could recover with time buried underground. That, he was used to.

Burying himself underground, gathering what he could to fool others into thinking of it as strength, only to rise from the dirt with a sword, bow, and the need to be the one to walk out of there. Not enough to be a phoenix rising from ashes into flames, but rather a body climbing out of the dirt to fight and survive.

He’d played more games than he could count that way, in the solitude and protection the caves and earth below had to offer. When he was alone, there was nothing that could truly hurt him— not in any way that mattered. Really, he should’ve been relieved. He should’ve felt lighter on his feet, a burden shed from his back. 

But instead, he didn’t feel much like anything at all. 

It hurt less than it should have, but more than Etho ever anticipated. The thorn had been pulled clean and he bled, but he felt less the pain and more the uncomfortable twinge. The calculated knowledge that skin had been broken but the detached thoughtlessness not to feel it. 

He was alone again. But that was okay. At least he knew what to do with it.

“Find anything good?” Etho looked to the half-collapsed parapet above his head. Cleo leaned over the edge, her hair hanging in her face. Another need, if he wanted to survive. The more bodies the better. It didn’t make him any less alone, just more fortified. Etho wasn’t so prideful as to think that he’d last out there on his own. Not this late in the game. Not with the Reds out for his blood. 

With a sigh, he shut the chest he’d been rooting around in. “Invisibility potions,” he said, packing whatever he could away in his pockets. “Extra armor I stashed. Some iron and gold. I bet Grian and Joel already picked up everything else worthwhile.” 

Cleo hummed. Etho grasped the wrung of a rickety ladder to hoist himself up onto the parapet beside her. She stood with ease, hands on her hips and an amused quirk to her mouth as she overlooked what never belonged to her.

“We’re going to stick it out with Ren and his shadow freaks?” Cleo asked after a moment. He could feel her gaze on the side of his face, but he didn’t return it. “That’s our plan?”

We. Our. She was just as bad as Bdubs. Etho had the thought to be angry, but really all he could manage was confusion. Curiosity. How did they make it look easy? Like handing over trust was as easy and mindless as breathing? Meanwhile he was a machine short-circuiting between two ends of a binary: what his heart longed for and what his head demanded. The desperation to claw more out more lives for Bdubs from anywhere he could. Anywhere except himself. 

“The Greens and Yellows should stick together,” Etho said, detached and factual. “At least until we knock out the rest of the Reds. Joel and Grian are going to be a big problem… Tango, too, now that I think about it.”

“You’ve made a lot of enemies this go-around, haven’t you?” Cleo teased. He knew she was teasing, but suddenly he was punched by the first flare of something since he stood on the opposite side of that cliff face. 

Etho scoffed and turned to overlook the rest of the hills. Lava burned far off, an orange glow that bled into the night sky. When that wither erupted from the heart of the snow castle, Etho thought that was the end of the world. But it was nothing compared to this: the damage left behind.

“I didn’t even do anything,” he said quietly. 

“You didn’t have to,” Cleo retorted. She rested a hand on Etho’s shoulder and he lacked the grit to brush it off. There were few people he both feared and respected in equal parts, and the person standing next to him was one of them. “Surviving this long always puts a target on your back. Plus, you’re the lucky guy who’s left to clean up all of Bdubs’ messes.” “You know a lot about that, don’t you, Cleo?” 

He didn’t know where it came from. The words were nasty and sharp but his voice was even and calm as ever; he wasn’t convinced he’d even said it. But Cleo only raised her eyebrows in surprise and turned her attention to the rest of the world. She pursed her lips. 

Neither of them said anything. The longer he stood in the bones of something he loved, the more he felt the ache start to sink in. Like pins and needles it started to spread from the pinch in his side, through his chest, up the back of his throat, and behind his eyes. It didn’t hurt yet, but he knew it could. He knew it would, when the worst of the numbness receded. If it ever did. 

He didn’t know if it would. He didn’t know if he wanted it to. It was so much easier to deal with like this. 

“It‘s okay if it hurts,” Cleo said finally. The hand on Etho’s shoulder never wavered, only squeezed the tense muscle there. “I’d be more worried if it didn’t. You’re more human than you pretend to be, Etho.”

The center of the snow castle's been caved in. A bomb detonated by Martyn. The walls to the east were crumbled and resorted to nothing more than dust. A fatal blow from the wither. A large, steep drop between the gap under the walls and the bottom of the hill. The last time they fought side-by-side. A single fence post remained in front of the door to their bedrooms. 

He was good at being alone. In fact, he was better off for it. 

He didn’t need Bdubs. He never needed Bdubs. It was convenient. It was easy. But then it wasn’t. Bdubs kept dying. Bdubs needed more lives. And suddenly it wasn’t anything about needing him and everything about wanting him. About doing everything within his power to keep him.

It was silver-tongued lies and trigger-finger betrayals. Scar coiled in fishing line, an axe through his throat before he knew what happened to him. The curse was easy to blame, but the truth was it simply provided him an excuse. A loop-hole. He would’ve done it either way. He would’ve made a way. 

Because he wanted Bdubs and his brain forgot where the line between want and need stood. 

“I could’ve given him a life.” A stab of remorse. The numbness started to fade as the sun threatened to rise and reality set in over the remains of what he had. “Things could’ve been different.”

“Maybe,” Cleo relented. She sat leaning against an old pillar of wood that supported what was left of the parapet, staring at Etho with an unusually soft expression that he had a difficult time feigning strength in front of. “But we both know Bdubs was dead either way.” 

“No.” Etho shut his eyes. He willed the burning behind them to fade. “I could’ve given it to him, Cleo,” he said again, because she didn’t understand. 

It was his fault. He fought tooth-and-nail to protect the single thing he was foolish enough to let in. Only to shoot it right down in the same breath. A punishment for his mistakes, doled out by his own hand. 

The wood beneath him creaked. Cleo shuffled behind him until he felt her body heat slotted against his back. Her arms wrapped around him, trapping him in her embrace and squeezing his shoulders and chest tight. He didn’t open his eyes. Because he feared when he did reality would come crashing down, and he’d be forced to remember that one of them would likely be dead by the end of the day. 

Cleo hooked her chin over Etho’s shoulder. The side of her head pressed flush with his. Shakily he laid his hands on top of hers, afraid she’d let go. 

“For what it’s worth,” she said against his ear. “I think he’s already forgiven you.”

[marokra]

The circus was quiet, after the dinner. Far too quiet. So quiet, that the recently-dubbed Geminitay was left alone with her thoughts. Which, for the record, was not a very favorable situation given the dangers of mentally spiraling in the digital plane.

She hoped that this was some sort of messed up nightmare. That she’d wake up in a cold sweat, and return back to her dead-end job. A job she hated, really, but she’d rather take that over this.

Gem pinched her arm, and then held her hands in front of her face. Yep. Not a dream.

She sighed and pulled up a mental checklist. Pretending this was a dream would get her nowhere. Might as well begin to process it all, right?

Can’t leave? check.

Trapped in a body that is most definitely not her own? check.

New name because her memory got messed up and she can’t remember any of the important details of her life? check.

Yep. All the signs were there. This was Geminitay’s own personal nightmare, and she was stuck living in it.

Earlier today when she went to check on Ren, Martyn had called this place Hell. and Gem was starting to think he was right. Everything she had seen today, The Void (with the eyes so many eyes that were all watching they were watching-), The Circus that was covered in deceivingly happy colors, the abstracted (unnatural, horrifying, dangerous) form of the so-called “Red King”, the fact that she couldn’t even remember her own damn name-

Not to mention how that “exit” from earlier seemed to be mocking her. Laughing at her feeble attempts to escape. And hell, if Gem’s theories were right, said “exit” was the thing that drove Ren to insanity. The thing the ringmaster had created to try and appeal to everyone’s desire for a way out drove one of his own to Insanity. Pretty messed up if you asked her.

Gem sighed, sinking down into the chair. Honestly, she should have expected this. You can’t be that surprised when the circus’s ringmaster is an AI that has no foresight.

A similar sigh was heard next to her, and she whipped around to see Scott sitting on the floor, the two making eye contact for a moment before he looked away. The plush glanced her beady button eyes to the side, and sure enough, Martyn was sitting across from her. Right. She wasn’t alone. This was fine.

She should say hi, right? She barely knew these people, hell, she had just met them, but it wouldn’t hurt to say hi. This was awkward. The silence was awkward. She was awkward. The tension could easily be cut with a knife. So, Gem did the most logical and reasonable thing to do in this situation. She grabbed the knife and started cutting.

“soooo. What’s the deal with Scar and Grian?” Worst icebreaker ever, Gem! this is the worst one you’ve ever used in your entire life! And sure, you can’t remember most of your life, but still!

Scott seems a bit caught off guard at the question, but recovers quickly. He plucks a star out of his hair, twirling it between his fingers absentmindedly. “Nobody knows. There’s been theories, yeah, but we’ve never figured out what’s going on with those two. Something about a previous adventure. A desert monopoly and a cactus ring, we’ve gathered that much.” the celestial replies, not bothering to spare a glance at Gem as he answers the question.

Martyn sighs. “Scar’s been making sad wet cat eyes at our,” he pauses to do air quotes. “‘ringmaster’ ever since we were thrown into this mess.” The marionette adjusts his position on the bean bag chair, sinking down to Gem’s eye level. “If you’re asking me, i’m tired of it.”

“So something happened with a past adventure and now they’re being all weird about it?” Gem tilts her head slightly, celebrating a little in her mind. You managed to start a conversation with the worst icebreaker known to man! Score!

“They’ve been weird about it for years, but sure, let’s go with that.” the marionette shrugs.

“Maybe it’s trauma. With Scar, at least. Not sure about Grian, is it even possible to traumatize AI?”

“Oh no no no,” A previously unseen jester poked her head over the edge of the balcony above, earning a surprised screech from Gem. “Grian isn’t an AI. He’s human. from our world.” the jester—Pearl, Gem’s mind supplied—hummed.

“Wait, what? but i thought he was-” She felt something hit her plushy body, glancing over to see that Scott had flicked a star into the side of her head. Ow.

“A lot of us thought that, when we first arrived here,” He paused, “Mainly because of his involvement with the circus itself. But over time, his more human mannerisms became glaringly obvious. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t noticed yet.”

“No AI starts wars for no reason.” Martyn commented. “And no AI has an inexplicable fear of being watched.”

“He started wa-??”

“-AI don’t take in other circus members as their own either!” Pearl cuts her off mid-sentence, the jester’s bells jingling as she jumps down from the tower, landing a bit to the right of Gem with an unceremonious fwoomph. “Grian saw us as family, siblings even, when we arrived. Well, me and Jimmy anyways.” Her voice drops to a low whisper, her uncovered eye darting around, making sure that nobody was eavesdropping. “Which was why he was so devastated when Jimmy. uh. abstracted.”

Gem could only nod. She noticed Martyn and Pearl have some silent communication for a moment, Martyn’s expression asking if he could continue. Pearl nodded, and the marionette turned back to Gem.

“It was something we hadn’t dealt with before. Nobody knew how to handle it. we didn’t even know it was possible.” Martyn added, frowning as he did so. The plush deer glanced over at Pearl, who sat in silence. Her gaze returned to Martyn.

“We tried everything we could to bring him back. Nothing worked.” Scott took in a deep breath before he continued. “He became too dangerous. People were getting glitched out left and right. The circus was a mess. And we had to put Jimmy in the cellar because of it.”

Well. That’s quite a bombshell to drop on somebody. Gem couldn’t even begin to imagine what everyone in the circus has gone through. And judging by Scott’s voice and the amount of crossed out portraits in the hall of doors, Jimmy was hardly the only one. Just how easy is it to lose your mind in the digital plane? How easy would it be for Gem to lose her mind? To actively harm the people she’s stuck with, no mercy involved? To be seen as a threat, and get thrown in a cellar with countless others? To experience a fate worse than death? She had to be careful. She had to be careful to never get too close, to always keep tabs on her mind. Because she’d never know when someone would get “abstracted.” She’d never know when she loses someone until it’s too late. She’d never know when she loses herself. Just one more thing to add to the list of reasons why she hates this place-

“Hello! Earth to Gem! Yoo-hoo! Hi! Hello!”

Pearl’s hand was flying in and out of Gem’s vision. The plush shakes her head. Better snap out of it. Dwelling in the possibilities would only make everything worse. Plus, this wasn’t even about her! This was about Jimmy!

“Right! Sorry. What were you saying?” Gem tilts her head as much as her stuffed animal body would let her. Which wasn’t much.

Martyn sighed. “As i was saying, Abstraction has become pretty normal for us nowadays. Yeah, I was a little bit caught off guard by Ren-“

“Extremely caught off guard.” Pearl chimes in.

“Extremely caught off guard, but someone getting abstracted is far from abnormal at this point. We’re used to it.”

“Mm.” Gem nods. “So, Jimmy was the first, right?”

“Yeah. Canary call, first to fall, forever caged in different walls and all that. That’s what They say about it anyways.” The marionette shrugs.

“Who’s They?”

A pause. Pearl, Scott, and Martyn immediately tense. A deafening silence blanketed the room, all eyes on the deer who asked the question.

A few seconds pass.

“Soooo, who wants to go drown in the digital lake?” Scott panickedly proposes. He glances behind himself, seemingly trying to make sure nothing was Watching him.

“Ahaha, I sure do love drowning! Come on guys let’s go like right now-” Pearl blurts out, a fake laugh tumbling from her lips.

Martyn nods. “I can’t wait to go dr-aha-own, byegemseeyoulater-”

The trio of circus members all but ran out of the tent, leaving Gem alone in a confused daze.

“Huh.” Weird.

[herrscherrofyatta]

Trouble on set

Pairing: Tomo x F!reader

cw: brief spoilers for the Sumeru quests, a sprinkle of Kazuha x reader here and there, pining, fluff, contains future spoilers for the everlasting series, slight angst? harassment towards the reader towards the end

summary: after filming the second to last part of sumeru's chapter, you and your co stars sit down and chat about the recent events

a/n: for the modern au event

Tears are spilling from Scaramouche's eyes as he looks at your tired e/c eyes that look up at him with nothing but love for him as your lips part slightly.

"...I love you Kuni."

You say and with that, your eyes close. Taking your last breath as Scaramouche sat there, staring as tears continued to fall, "....Y/n?"

He calls out, shaking you gently, "no.... don't—don't do this to me too. Please.... don't leave me!" He grits his teeth, pulling out the gnosis and pressing it into your chest just as you did before but your body no longer accepts it.

After several attempts, he throws the item to the side, cradling your body in his arms as he sobs, burying in face in your neck as your head hangs back. His body shakes as his cries grow louder.

"...i—i love you too." He knew his words meant nothing if you couldn't hear them, you always showered him with affection like a real sister for decades and the one time he finally returned it, it was too late.

"And cut. You two did well, I don't think we need to redo this scene."

A voice is heard as Scaramouche looks up as his face is still wet with tears and you open your eyes, wincing at the bright light above you two.

"Get cleaned up and have a break." Scaramouche helps you up, as you give him a smile.

"Good job." You tell him as he nods, still in character as you two walk off the set and immediately your friend come over to you two.

"You two did so well! Everyone was tearing up." Nahida says and some of your co-workers nod at her words.

"I'll see you two later." Scaramouche raises a hand at you two before working off, wiping his face and you and Nahida walk back to where the rest of your friends are.

"I think this is my favorite scene." You smile at this, "that's what you said during the fight scene between me and Tomo."

She giggles, "this one tops it, that scene is my second favorite."

You sigh at this, remembering how the filming for that was a bit difficult but it's done.

"You did a great job back there." Aether says as you two arrive in the break room where everyone else who was a part of this season.

"Thanks, me and Scara practiced to nail it in one go. To think we'll be done with this season but you still have like 5 more to go." You laugh as Aether sighs.

"yeah. Oh, did you get your script for the interlude?" Shaking your head, "no, I remember Hoyoverse saying that they would give us a break for a week or so. I'll probably get it soon though but I doubt I'll get any more scenes, they killed off my character."

The blonde shrugs his shoulders, handing you a cup of coffee, "you never know. Maybe they'll keep you around because of your great acting skills and maybe because of the whole romance with your character and Tomo's too, I have a feeling like it's not quite done."

Nahida sits down, going over her script as you and Aether continue talking.

"Oh! Speaking of Tomo, I promised him and Kazuha that the three of us would watch this part of the season when it aired."

The director didn't call you and scaramouche to redo the scene so you were free till the next filming.

A month later, you were recovering from an incident during filming, nothing too serious but it hurt like hell and your phone rings so you stand up to answer it, careful not to hurt your wrist.

"Hello?"

"Y/n! Hello, are you still up to watch the new episode tonight?" It was Kazuha, you smile at this, you two have been in many films together and are very close friends.

"Tonight? What day is it....." You look at your calendar and your eyes widen, "oh my god, I forgot about today, I've been so busy but yes I'm still down. Is Tomo coming as well?"

Tomo, another one of your friends and you two met through Kazuha, who also happened to be acting as your character's love interest in Genshin Impact.

"Yeah, he'll be arriving earlier than me at your place."

And just like Kazuha said, the blonde did ring your door bell two hours later and you let him. Making sure he was comfortable on the couch, you prepared some drinks, placing the tray on the small coffee table and handing him a drink. Your eyes take a good look at the blonde, noticing that he still hasn't cut his long hair since it was still in it's ponytail.

"You didn't cut it," you finally say.

"Well, you said you liked it long." He says before taking a sip, "plus, I think I'll still be acting for Hoyoverse and I have a feeling you will too." He smiles at you and you could feel the heat grow on your face at this, turning away from him as you walk out the living room.

"Oh really?"

He hums, "keeping you for a couple more episodes would give them more benefits.....so can you tell what happens?"

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, "be patient, I'm sure it'll be a ride for you."

He sits up in surprise, "wait! Don't tell me they killed you off?!"

"pfft—" you cover your laugh at this, "no—they would never!" You say sarcastically, not wanting to spoil it for him and so two hours later, Kazuha walked in to find you two in a heated conversation about your characters.

"No but like, we still need to film the festival they first met at! They can't just leave it like that between them!" Tomo says as you chuckle before taking a sip of your water, "we'll be letting the shippers down."

Chuckles at this, you say, "with you as their leader, I'm sure you'll all manage just fine." Tomo gives you an unimpressed look.

"Well, it's not our decision plus I think they'll be alright. I mean, have you read some of the fanfiction they write? Sometimes I think it's better than the official story and that says a lot." You point as Kazuha stands at the doorway, seems like neither of you noticed him quite yet.

"Yeah that's good and all but—"

"But if our characters keep going, Hoyoverse was bound to—"

"No! Listen! Remember their other series, the one you were a part of a couple years back, Honkai Impact—"

You laugh at this, remembering the role you played, "doesn't mean they're gonna let our characters live happily ever after, Tomo, remember that they're on the opposite side. A Harbinger and a wandering samurai who's an orphan."

He sighs in frustration, "still, I hope they give them the happy ending they deserve at least."

Shrugging your shoulders at this, you look away from the man in front of you and look to the side, "how long have you been standing?"

Tomo spits out his drink, looking at him, "dude, stop creeping around like that!"

Kazuha laughs at this, "you two sure do act like a married couple, talking about your favorite characters."

You roll your eyes at this, "everyone says that about us, lots of traffic?"

Kazuha hums, "yes and looks like I arrived on time." You and Tomo look at the time in sync, seeing that there was a few minutes for the episode to air.

The three of you go to the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and turning on the TV. Making sure none of your schedules were packed for the next day, it was like a tradition to sit and binge watch all the new episodes on the day one comes out.

"They better not leave us on a cliffhanger again." Tomo comments as you play the episode released today, Kazuha leans back as you put your knees up to your chest, face snuggling into a pillow and Tomo stares at the screen in anticipation.

The episode starts off where the last had ended, your hand brushes against Kazuha, making you glance at him and he looks at you.

He sees you shake your head slightly and he gets what you're hinting at so he glances over to the blonde whose eyes are glued to the screen.

"He'll be alright." He whispers, giving you a smile as you look at him a bit worried, brows furrow. "I gave it my best for my last scene....I just hope he won't be too disappointed." You whisper back, he reaches up to push a strand of hair behind your ear before gently flickering your forehead.

"You did great."

"We haven't even gotten to that scene —"

"But you're acting so well," he gestures to the screen as you look at it, watching as you appear from thin air in front of Nahida, catching the dendro archon by surprise.

"No way she managed to rip out the gnosis from the archon!? Signora style too!" Tomo yells, you and Kazuha brink at this before letting out a quiet laugh.

"Yeah, he'll be alright." You smile at Kazuha and you two go back to watching.

Let's say the night ended with Tomo being in shock, staring at the screen as the credits played out with vocal singing in Latin, one heard in the fight, now more clearly meant to represent your character's emotions.

"...I'll get the guests room ready." You say, going up the stairs, leaving the two men by themselves. The next morning, you were making breakfast when Kazuha woke up, saying he wanted to help.

Tomo slept in a little late and only woke up from hearing your laughter from downstairs and going down to go see what was making you laugh that hard, he freezes up at the sight of Kazuha and you close together in front of the stove, backs turned to him.

He watches a little while before retreating back to his room, sighing, it was no secret that he was head over heels for you, every single one your friends knew and it was completely obvious too.

He had met you on set, he was new to the crew when he first saw you in person, talking with a smile to the guy that plays Scaramouche, the way you two interact he would have mistaken you as a couple. But he had heard that Scaramouche was like a brother to you, known each other since childhood but Kazuha....he had heard so much from him. Highschool friends to be exact.

He wouldn't be surprised if the white haired male had feelings for you, hell, anyone would and he wouldn't see a chance to be with you since you were constantly surrounded by amazing, better people than him.

Standing in the middle of the room, gripping his fists, he was nothing but a guy who got lucky enough to get a big role while you were someone with experience, talent and big celebrities chasing after you.

why would you bat an eye at his feelings?

A knock at the door snaps him out of his thoughts, "Tomo, are you up? Breakfast is ready." Your voice is muffled as he sighs before answering.

"Oh, I'm starving!" He exclaims, opening the door as you look up at him, staring at him for a moment before looking away.

"We should hurry or Kazuha is going to eat everything." You say, joking, walking away before Tomo grabs a hold of your hand, making you turn around, confused.

"Tomo? What's wrong?"

He stares, hesitating before letting you go. "No, it's nothing. Sorry."

You two stand there before Kazuha's voice calls out, making you two go downstairs.

—

" Actress Y/n L/n who plays an important character in Season 3 of the hit series 'Genshin Impact' is confirmed to be dating Actor Kaedehara Kazuha who also is a part of the same series. The two have been seen together on a date, holding hands at a famous cafe— "

Tomo's heart drops at this, dropping his phone and it makes a loud noise that makes a few people give him weird looks. Picking it up, he checks the pictures taken and can't believe it.

It was you two in the picture, it didn't seem to be photoshopped and—

"What are you looking at?" He jumps at the sounds of your voice beside him, his phone slipping from his hands as you catch it, raising a brow at the news.

"...." You don't say anything, simply staring at the screen before calling out to Kazuha. "Hey Kazu."

"Yes?"

His head pops out from a corner, munching on a cookie, "when did we start dating?" Kazuha takes a bite of his food before shrugging his shoulders.

"I dunno, you tell me."

Waving at him to come over, he does, and you show him, he doesn't look fazed.

"This again?" He asks as you sigh, "I'm afraid so." You two look at Tomo who was quiet this whole time.

".....did you fall for this?" He shakes his head.

Kazuha begins to explain everything, the context of the photo, saying it was taken when you and him snuck out to get something to eat during break. "Look, we're in our costumes and the reason why Kazuha was holding my hand was because the heels I wore were too hard to walk in properly."

Tomo mentally sighs at this, relieved, "also we're the main leads for this romance series so there's that." He freezes up as you hand him back his phone.

Neither of you notice prying eyes watching from a distance.

The day goes on, a couple retakes on scenes here and there when it was time for lunch, you and your friends decide to eat together inside so you quickly went to your trailer to get your food.

The heels you wore made a sound with each step you took, "excuse me," an eerie voice came from behind you, making you tense up and glance back to see a man who you didn't recognize.

"are you lost? I can bring security to accompany you to the exit." You stopped walking, not wanting to show this man where your trailer was in case he tried to come back later.

"No...no, I'm not lost. In fact, I already found what I'm looking for." He says in a creepy way, his face was red with sweat the longer he stared at you.

"What do you—?!" Your eyes widened as he grabbed a hold of your wrist, pulling you towards him as you struggled against his hold.

"Let go of me!" You shout, but his grip on your wrist that was still recovering from an acting incident, tightens as you wince and he sees this as an opportunity to wrap his other arm around your waist.

"You're finally mine—"

—

Tomo looks at the time, it's been a few minutes since you left to get your lunch and Kazuha seems to notice this too. Standing up, he and Tomo begin to head to find you at your trailer but to their surprise, an unfamiliar man had you in his grasp as you struggled against him. Quickly running over, Kazuha calls for security, you continue to push the man off as he leans in to try to kiss you.

"Let me go!?" You raise your knee and hit him where the sun doesn't sun as his grip on your falters and Tomo quickly pulls you behind him, he could feel your hands grip his shirt with fear.

"You bitch!" The man says, glaring up at him. "You'll pay!"

Tomo glares at him, "you have to get through me first."

Kazuha rushes over with a couple security guards, "and before you can get to him, you need to get through security." He says as the buff, talk men pick up the creep who kept trying to tell you things.

"None of you understand! Me and her are destined together! We're going to get married and have children—"

You pull back tomo who is trying so hard not to punch this guy who was creeping you out.

"None of you will get in the way of our true love!"

The security guards roll their eyes at this as you see Tomo turn to you and you give him a confused look before he leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

"What the hell!? Let go of my precious Y/n! We're supposed to be together —"

Your face is red as Tomo pulls away, "together my ass, we've been dating for a long time so she's mine." He flips him off as the man gets dragged off, still saying things.

The blonde sighs, as Kazuha goes to your side, looking around for any injuries and he notices that your hands are shaking slightly.

Being harassed was nothing to you but someone getting that close to you as new, he's been there to see and luckily to protect you but to think someone sneaked in to look especially for you was terrifying.

"Thank you," you finally say, "if you hadn't.....I couldn't imagine what that man would've done." Tomo frowns, placing a hand in your back.

"You did all the work, hitting him in the balls." He smiles when a smile cracks in your face at this. Your face heats up as he wraps his arm around your shoulder as he leads you inside while Kazuha goes to talk with security.

"...sorry for not asking." You glance up to see how red his cheeks were before looking down, flustered as he was.

"...it's not like we haven't kissed before...on set." You mumble, "..I kinda liked it." Stuttering in your words, you refuse to look up at Tomo, afraid of his reaction.

He coughs, "...me too, every single one." If your face couldn't heat up even more at his confession, it did.

Nahida looks up from her book to see you two walk in, speechless to see you two holding hands with flustered faces but smiles to herself.

It was about time you two figured out your feelings.

Tomo: So whose idea was it to show that scene to parallel Ei and Makoto's?

You: well....you see—

Masterlist

[mr2swap]

After Christmas: 1

“Damn it, I can't take this one more day!” My father promised me that this would end today, that we would return to our original bodies, and we would never talk about everything that happened this winter vacation.

He has been putting off reversing the spell he “accidentally” cast on us so I can enjoy my youth for a couple of days. When mom left us my father looked so pathetic and sad, I thought that if I let him use my body for a day or two after Christmas it would be the most generous of me and the truth is I can fully understand why he did it ... his life is shit!

He was never able to finish high school for being an idiot, so all he could get was a 10-hour job as a low paid builder. Every day I wake up at morning, so I can start the day with 3 cups of coffee without sugar because “my” doctor told me that I had to watch my diet, some tasteless eggs and a couple of painkillers to be able to bear leaving the home without having to complain all day that I spend working under the sun.

At first, it was not so bad it was great to wake up in my father's room in his taller, stronger and older body, everything looked smaller especially my father who was now in my slim body of a 14-year-old boy, maybe it was the adrenaline rush and excitement that made me completely ignore the pain in my back and not have had a drop of coffee all day.

After confronting him and admitting that he was the cause that one day to the next he will wake up like a 48-year-old man we reached an agreement, we would return to our bodies once Christmas passed, I must admit that going out to do the shopping For Christmas dinner with my dad it was a lot of fun, we talked all day about everything I would have to do in his body, he even taught me how to drive, and he let me drink my first beer when we got home, I felt funny after empty a couple of cans, and it all seemed incredibly light especially with how big my arms are now.

But all the fun ended the next day, on Christmas Day as soon as I woke up again in this body you can understand why my father told me not to get too excited about drinking beer, I even think I was still a little drunk after drinking so much last night My head hurt like hell and the rest of my body didn't feel better, and I think for the first time I could understand why my father used to take those pills every day with his coffee.

While I was trying to go down the stairs carefully to have a lot of coffee that I now needed my father was already at the foot of the tree unwrapping the gifts that he had personally wrapped a couple of days before, when I realized what it was not I could believe it—DID YOU BUY ME A PS5?! — I quickly helped him connect it while he was just as excited as I was to play however I could see that there was only one control and after a short fight I decided I was too tired and screwed up to spend it all The day I was arguing over who would take the first turn playing and my head was killing me, I decided that I would play the next day once I returned to my young 14-year-old body.

However, the days have passed, and my father still does not break the spell, making excuses after excuses, and he doesn't even make an effort to lie to me during breakfast today. He told me, “have you started with that again? It starts to be annoying to hear you say the same thing every morning, “IT'S A SON OF A BITCH! Right now he must be on my first day of class pretending to be me and talking to my friends while I'm covered in sweat and dust, killing me at his shitty job.

I am doubting if one day I will recover my body, I have to find the spell that my father used to steal my life and be 14 years old again! … well I will do it tomorrow today Robert, a friend of my father from work invited me to drink a couple of beers on the way out of work, he said we had a lot of fun and was really pushy. I suppose there are good things about being an adult.

Hello! Happy New Year, this is the first story here on Tumblr, the second part and a short epilogue are on my patreon.

You can also join my discord server if you want to know the latest news of my stories or chat with me, Tumblr has me blocked or something and I can't receive messages, so discord is the only way to talk to me lol

[lunaekalenda]

Hi An I hope you’re doing well and I’ve been feeling hurt, sad, depressed, and wished I could disappear due to losing my new job after two weeks and no longer want to find work anymore especially with the repeated rejections in the past year. Can I request a hurt/comfort/fluff one-shot of Eren x Fem!Reader where Y/N shuts herself in hers and Erens dark shared bedroom with the door locked sobbing uncontrollably in bed wrapped in a blanket covering her figure and head/face and wishing she could be erased from the world after repeated rejections from getting a job she wanted. Then, Eren tries to get Y/N to open the door and begging her to let him in despite her refusal causing him to worry more for her safety, well-being, and making sure she’s not hurting herself until Eren finds a spare key in his pocket to let himself in before he stripped out of his clothes and underwear before climbing into bed to comfort Y/N and cradle her in his naked body. As Eren lifted a part of the blanket off Y/Ns face, he tearfully begs Y/N not to harm herself, how he doesn’t want to be alone without her, and reminds her how much he loves her especially reassuring her there are places for her where she can work before showering her with kisses and rocking her to help her feel better. Finally after Eren calms Y/N down, he laid Y/n down on his bare chest and tells her that even if she was let go, there’s still hope she’ll find work again and he doesn’t want her to kill herself before comforting her with her favorite lullaby to help her rest? Thank you -🌼

hey!! i'm sorry you're going such tough times, and i hope it gets better for you soon! i'm sure you'll be able to recover and keep going, and you're strong to do so! never lose hope, i'm sure a lot of people (including me) are cheering for you!! you're very loved and very much capable and talented! i hope this helps even a little bit <3

warnings: non-sexual nudity, mentions of self harm, intrusive thoughts, anxiety, panic attack. be careful with reading the first paragraphs, as they have strong self-consciousness and negative thoughts that could affect anyone on a crisis. if you wanna read the comfort directly, jump to the red dot.

Your house was silent. Maybe that was the trigger.

Eren had the blinds down, as he usually does when he leaves, and the darkness of the room made you sadder. Alone, silent and dark. Your home was exactly how you felt. You really wanted that job, and still, you were unable to get it. Taking the big grey blanket that Eren bought for you some time ago, and getting changed into your sleeping clothes, you let your fluffy bed hug your body sweetly, covered by the soft fabric, but still it wasn't enough. You still felt the cold on the inside.

You felt how the rejection took root on your heart, and a tree of thoughts started to grow from it. What if you were not enough? If they didn't see you capable? If they didn't trust your works? If they didn't like you? Is anybody going to accept you anywhere?

You take the blanket above your head, covering your shining cheeks, where tears run down quickly. Getting rejected more than once isn't easy to assimilate. Your head hurts from crying and you close your eyes. The world feels way too heavy for you right now, and you wish that burden was taken off your shoulders. You don't know how many time you've been crying, and you don't know when you fell asleep during it.

.

You hear knocks, followed by your name, in Eren's voice. He knocks again, but you don't feel strong enough to stand up and open the door. Your muscles feel tired and your head feels dizzy. Your eyes start to close again, but your hear a key against the door, Eren's steps inside the room, the light from the corridor filling the bedroom. Eren walks quickly towards you, kneeling by your side. He takes a bit of the blanket away, checking your face. Your eyes are swollen from crying and they search his slowly. He smiles softly when your eyes meet his.

"What happened, love?" he asks in low voice, no more than a whisper. You take your body to your side of the bed, and he understands what you mean. Undressing quickly, Eren takes the blanket and slides next to you, taking your body on a hug, his warm skin calming your muscles. You sigh against his body. His hands run over your thighs, your arms ad your back. He caresses you as he lets you speak.

"I got rejected for that work. Again." just remembering it makes you feel miserable again, but you feel his lips pressed on top of your head. His hug gets tighter as his caresses are still sweet on your skin. "I don't know what fails... I have a nice portfolio, I have nice reviews from my past jobs, I always try to answer correctly at all the interview questions for what? To get rejected again and again and again and cry and see someone get the job I've been fighting so hard for." Tears are unstoppable again when he kisses your head again.

"Love. If they didn't get you, it's not your fault. You're incredible, and all your past bosses say the same about you. I'm sure there are a hundred jobs made for you. I know you really wanted this job, but they're the ones losing. Show them who you are. Make them search you. Make them beg you to join. Andm, if that isn't the case, I'm sure you'll enjoy your new work so much you wont' have time to think about the one that rejected you." he takes a tear away with his thumb, feeling how your erratic breath starts to follow his, and he sighs. "You're amazing, and no one, specially an interviewer. should tell you otherwise."

Then, he takes his time to kiss every one of your tears until they stop falling, to rock your body slowly until your breath calms down, to hear every single one of your thoughts and reassure you that there's a lot of people who loves you, who enjoy being by your side, and who feel lucky to have you in their lives.

"And I'm the first one of that list." he whispers. "I don't know where I would be without you, and I'm sure I wouldn't be the man I am today without you. That's your magic. You make people better. You make people happy, loved, cherished. And you should get the same back."

Your eyes feel quite heavy from all the tiredness of crying, and you let your body meet his, more comfortable and more warm. You whisper against his chest. "Thank you. For everything."

As a response, he sings your favorite lullaby for you, keeping the rhythm with soft caresses on your back, until you feel asleep on his arms.

[chocolatedreamer22]

(WARNING for mentions of blood, cannibalism, and death.)

I found a website that allows you to put in a prompt and A.I. will most likely write a short story or fan fiction about it. (Sometimes it would refuse to write it.) Here are some of the things I (tried to) put in it:

• Willy Wonka gets into a fight at Texas Roadhouse.

• Mike, Violet, and Veruca see Wonka have a seizure and panic because they don't know what to do about it.

• Wonka forgets to remove Augustus's body from the chocolate river and accidentally bakes his remains into a chocolate cake and eats it.

• Wonka, Mike, Violet, and Veruca watch as Augustus dies of a heart attack.

• Willy Wonka gets arrested at a Taylor Swift concert.

• Willy Wonka decides to go to McDonald's for a Big Mac. He accidentally lands the Great Glass Elevator on Ronald McDonald and kills him.

• It's Mike, Violet, and Veruca's first day of school. They get on the bus and are surprised to find that Wonka is their bus driver. Everything was going fine that morning until Wonka runs a red light and accidentally hits Augustus.

• Willy Wonka gets carjacked but he knows jujitsu.

• Wonka is having dinner at a big fancy party he threw in celebration of a fantastic new candy he's created. He is sitting at a table with Mike, Violet, and Veruca when he's given a mysterious drink. He tastes it and it tastes like shrimp. He is severely allergic to shrimp.

• Wonka is driving Mike, Violet, and Veruca to school when they get into a terrible car accident.

• Mike, Violet, and Veruca are sitting in class at their school. Their normal teacher is sick and so Wonka has to be the substitute, but he has no idea what he's doing.

• Mike, Violet, and Veruca are helping Wonka prepare dinner. Wonka accidentally cuts his hand with a large knife. The kids are panicking because he's bleeding all over the kitchen and he's on the verge of passing out from the sight of his own blood.

• Mike, Violet, Veruca and Augustus are stranded out at sea. They fell off of Wonka's boat after standing too close to the edge even after he asked them not to. They've been lost for days. They're scared, tired, and hungry. They decided to sacrifice Augustus and use him for food. Time is running out, they're losing hope, and they're almost out of Augustus. Will Wonka be able to find them soon? Or is it already too late for them?

• Mike decides to throw a rave. Everyone at the rave is having a good time until two of the large and heavy lights fall from the ceiling. One light hits Wonka. Violet and Veruca run to check on him. He's broken and fractured several bones and is in a lot of pain. Mike and Charlie check on Augustus. Augustus is dead. A few days later, Charlie takes on the responsibility of running the factory while Wonka recovers. The other three kids keep him company until he gets well again.

• Mike, Violet, and Veruca get trapped in the chocolate room during an emergency lockdown.

• Violet arrives at school one morning to hear her teacher announce that two new students will be joining their class: Mike and Veruca. Violet was shocked to say the least. But she had a job to do. She has to teach them how to survive in this school. Mike had never moved to a different school before, and Veruca had never been to an american school. But this school was special; and not necessarily in a good way. It had strange rules and very unusual methods. There were only three types of people in this place: the cruel, the weird, and the creepy. No one is safe. Only Violet can be trusted. The three of them are stuck here for 7 months until the summer. Let's just hope they can make it out alive...

• After a tragic accident at the toothpaste factory that lead to Noah Buckets death, Willy Wonka has been offering all the comfort and support to his family that he could. Especially to Noah's wife, Hellen, who was hurting the most. But things take an unexpected turn when Hellen and Wonka slowly start to realize that they've fallen in love with each other. They have to keep this a secret. They absolutely must! If anyone finds out, it could tear apart the whole family. Hellen imagined the confusion in the eyes of her parents, the fury in the eyes of her in-laws, and the hurt and betrayal in the eyes of her beloved son, Charlie. But no need to worry! Everything will be fine as long as NO ONE finds out. And no one will find out. Right..?

• Mike, Violet, and Veruca decided to go exploring the factory. Wonka told them it was okay as long as they never ever go to the forbidden room. They go there anyway. What they found horrified them more than anyone could possibly imagine.

• Mike, Violet, and Veruca are tasked with filming a commercial for a new candy. Wonka is extra busy that day, so he allows his niece, Coco, to help them with it. Unfortunately, the three ticket winners are not getting along that day. They fight and argue while the commercial is being filmed, but Coco decides to release it anyway because they still say the name and show the picture of the product. Once the chaotic commercial is released, it gets a lot of attention from the public.

• Willy Wonka is working on a new kind of candy in the inventing room when his daughter, Coco, comes to asks him a question. She asks him why he had the golden ticket contest instead of allowing her to take over the factory. The answer she received wasn't what she expected.

• Wonka is actually sitting in the chair during the puppet show at the begining of the factory tour. The fireworks go off and set him on fire. He flails around and screams until his lifeless body falls off the stage in front of the kids as his corpse continues to burn.

[fantasmanya]

 For generations only the women in the family were born with the powers to see the supernatural and with them they were given the duty of protecting the main family from any harm that could come for them.

 That was until Kohaku was born, a male with the eyes that could see the unseen, the main family wasn't notified of his birth, a miscarriage they announced, and with that he was hidden behind walls, never to learn how to protect himself or other's from the supernatural. His childhood was filled with memories of spirits trying to hurt him, many of which could have succeeded had it not been for his sisters, to a point that he started to run away at the mere sight of one. 

 It didn't help that the entire house was made to deal with the supernatural with charms, incantations, cursed objects lying around as if they were normal house decorations. So, after turning 15 he left, with prior consultation of the elders, leaving behind the life he knew until then, moving into a small apartment provided by one of his sister's and looking for odd jobs that would accept someone his age with no previous experience or basic education.

 The spirits are still there, but this time around they didn't orbit around him, they had their own life and rules in the city, some even lived alongside humans who were none the wiser their friends weren't as human as they thought. After a while he started getting used to some of them, the more human looking ones were the easiest to deal with as they were the most ingrained in normal human society, even as far as being friends with some.

 This was the life he knew for the past 3 years, he still lived in the same apartment, this time paid entirely by him, he even got a permanent job now, in a hidden cafe owned by another with powers like him, there were still spirits that reminded him of his past, of which he still ran away from, but life was peaceful and he wouldn't have it any other way.

 That was until now, new tenants came and went in his building, it was a normal process in the city afterall, be it humans or spirits that decided, for some reason or another, to live by society's rule. What wasn't normal was a fox showing up at his doorstep before he went to work, he could see it wasn't a normal fox, the power he felt from it sure wasn't something foxes had after all. At first he let out a small yelp at the sight then hunched over to try and see what he was dealing with.

 The fox had a deep vermilion fur and black markings around his ears and paws, he could see it was shivering, letting out small whines from time to time, his first instinct was to do what he normally does with random spirits on his day, that being running away from it, but the fox looked so miserable with all the shivering and whining that he couldn't just let it be. 

 So, with his entire body shaking, he scooped up the creature, taking it inside his apartment. The apartment by itself wasn't anything too grand, composed of 2 bedrooms and a small kitchen next to a living room, but it was more of a home than where he grew up in. He took the small spirit into his bedroom and carefully laid it in his bed, the little fox let out a small purr at the feeling of hitting something soft quickly burrowing into the blankets that were still on the bed, he let out a small chuckle at the sight, even if it's a spirit he still was on the cuter side of the scale.

 He would let the creature in his room while he went to work, it would probably have recovered by the time he got home. It wasn’t the first time he helped a small spirit get better, some took more time to recover, but they were always friendly after, always gifting him some small trinket or money as a thank you. He even managed to meet some of them later around the city.

This one spirit just looked tired, it probably was another victim of losing their usual habitat and found themselves lost in the city, wandering with no direction until they found a replacement or disappeared into thin air. At least this way it would have another fighting chance.

 He walked towards the bedroom door, glancing behind to see the ball of fluff currently sinking further into his sheets.

 "Don't break anythin' hear me"

 The fox let out a small snore and curled further into itself. Cute little bastard. He took his bag and keys and headed out for the small cafe. 

The cafe was busy as always in the first hours of the morning. The store wasn't anywhere near the center of the city, hidden away in the small neighborhood his boss grew up in, but it had a good reputation, mostly thanks for their delicious food.

He remembers when he first applied to the job, he had been jumping from job to job for around a yeat at that point, only to find the small cafe when returning from a random job he had, seeing a small poster looking for a new waiter.

The first few weeks working at the cafe were hard, all those sketchy jobs he had been used to didn't prepare him for this afterall, he fumbled over orders, spilled drinks and forgot some of his tasks. His boss, Niki, didn't let him quit though, encouraging him to continue everytime he thought about quitting.

Kohaku once asked why Niki had chosen him from all the other much more experienced candidates for the position, Niki had only smiled at him and said he reminded him of someone he knew.

 Later on he met that someone, a fox spirit that had run away from home and Niki took in out of pity. That someone also was the biggest annoyance in his life, that was also now bothering him while he worked.

 "Kohaku-chan~ Can you bring me another glass of this?" He shook the glass from side to side making the slowly melting ice cubes hit the glass making an annoying sound out of it.

 He was currently splayed into the sofa near the entrance, playing a game with some small animal-like spirits that, unfortunately, got roped into the game. How Niki managed to share the same roof with this guy and not have killed him already is unknown, but what he did know was that Rinne wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted, be it sooner or later, one way or another. 

What exactly the fox did when he wasn't at the cafe was a mystery, but he always showed up at one time or another, entering the shop loudly and taking his place into the sofa.

 “Rinne-kun! Stop bothering him!” Niki, his savior, begins walking up towards them, probably having enough of Rinne making a ruckus into the cafe.

 “Niki, my lovely wife” He shot up for his seat hitting a poor spirit on the way. “Kohaku-chan was just helping me win another game see~” He showed all the trinkets he managed to ‘win’ from the other spirits, his tail wagging from side to side.

 “I don’t want any of it! Give them back to those little guys” He started yelling “Also stop calling me your wife! I’m a MAN!”

Kohaku knew how these arguments went already, Rinne would start to focus all of his energy into Niki, annoying and following him everywhere he went, so with a sigh of relief he started backing out of their argument and tried going back to work. It would be just a another hour until his coworker would come in and relieve him of his position. It just seemed that today annoying Niki wasn't enough to satisfy the fox.

He felt an arm loop around his neck and being pushed back into someone's chest, he tried resisting but a sudden wave of energy made him freeze.

"Where do you think you are going hmm?"

He felt Rinne's tails coming around him, locking him into place, he then felt his wrist being grabbed and moved near the other's face. Rinne's hold tightened on his wrist for a second before dropping it and releasing him from his tail prison.

Kohaku turned around, still a little shaken from his previous position, and found Rinne with a serious look on his face.

"Kohaku have you..." his expression had a hint of sadness in it, but quickly got covered up "Have you been taking strays into your house again?"

He could only nod, to which the fox narrowed his eyes and began swishing his tail in rapid movements.

"Remember that not all spirits are as nice as the ones you are used to in the city" he nodded again "If you need anything give us a call"

Rinne didn't leave any room for Kohaku to protest, turning his back immediately and walking out of the cafe without saying another word, leaving Kohaku confused at what had just happened.

He tried to ask Niki if he had any idea what made Rinne act like that, but when he looked into the other's direction he had a worried look on his face, that just like the fox had been immediately covered up by a smile.

"Kohaku-chan can you do the dishes for me?"

Again he could only nod.

They didn't mention the situation for the rest of their shift, working as they normally would any other work day. Though even if they didn't mention it there was still a tense atmosphere inside the cafe that ledt Kohaku tense the rest of his shift.

"Oukawa"

The voice pulled him out of his thoughts, behind him stood his coworker with a small pile of mugs.

"Himeru-han, sorry I didn't see ya" he scratched the back of his head reaching for the mugs currently in the other's hands "I will just finish these dishes and clock out"

"You've been washing the same plate for the past 10 minutes" Himeru sighed "Himeru can finish the rest, go home oukawa"

He didn't leave room for Kohaku to argue about his decision, pushing him aside and starting to clean the rest of the dishes.

Himeru had began working at the cafe at around the same time as him, he was someone Kohaku considered a good friend of sorts, even if Himeru himself wouldn't admit to it. Himeru was always looking out for him since they met, one time a customer had started to yell at him for getting his drink wrong, he didn't, only to have the blue-haired male go down on him and being forced to apologize.