#i am not even cognizant enough to know what i’m thinking let alone trying to figure out what the fuck she’s talking about

[littlemissjesuschrist]

i cannot live in my home with my parents for many reasons but number one being the moment i wake up and my mom gets eyes on me, she doesn’t shut the fuck up it’s instant talking instant full blown conversation and i’ve had my eyes open for maybe 45 seconds it drives me fucking insane leave me aloneeeee

[ventisehe]

crying on their wedding day, or not / genshin impact / part two

this is the second part of crying on their wedding day. i didn’t add dainsleif and baizhu because i don’t have enough creative juice to squeeze them in. 

requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro

includes: venti, kaeya, xingqiu, scaramouche, razor, albedo, chongyun, xiao, kazuha

warning: unedited, not proofread, different variation of not seeing the bride before the wedding ceremony, written before kazuha was released

part one

THOSE WHO WILL NOT CRY

     VENTI

            Although his wings that have soared through the vast open azure skies was as ancient as the winds that swept ever so delicately through the lands that made up Teyvat, although his curious viridescent hues have become quiet witnesses to numbers of renowned and untold tales of mortals across nations, no matter the countless years he devoted trying to cognize the mortals and their atypical behaviors, Barbatos – or Venti, as he refers to himself now – can never truly understand how so many human beings can stay in one place with one person.

                            Before he had even come to be the Anemo Archon, all that Venti knew was how to heed the call of the wind. To him, it was confounding how mortals do not have the similar urgency as he to follow the winds. Even when he had taken the form of his dearest friend, Himmel, and has elapsed through myriad of seasons and centuries, still he soared gently in the air, lyre in his possession as he sung melodies of his own composition and strummed symphonies for those who yearn to hear his voice, and with his braids billowing in his travel to a destination even he cannot tell yet.

            One has made an attempt - and unfortunately, a fruitless one - to make sense to him why some has gone against the heed of the wind, a very peculiar decision in the eyes of someone like him. His form nothing but a mere wisp at that time, nothing but a small creature with little understanding, and he remembered he was seated on the shoulder of his companion as they perched by the edge of a mountain, legs dangling and kicking gently back and forth. They basked in the caress of the wilting warmth as the sun bid its farewell.

                      Himmel was humming a tune with the corners of his mouth curving up and his eyes closed, and Venti's small frame thrummed with delight at the euphony he made.

                And in the serene quiet, his dear friend spoke, "Someday, you'll find yourself wanting to stay somewhere. For something, or for someone. You don't understand now, but when you come to love one thing, you'll always want to be close to their side." Himmel turned to him, a subdued smile etched across his features, and upon catching sight of the sincerity and fervor Himmel in his bright eyes, Venti cannot help but mirror his sentiments and reciprocate his smile the best he can with the body he manifested in.

     "When that day comes, you'll understand why many choose to . . . stay." Venti tilted his head to the side, and Himmel let out a small chuckle once he catches on the puzzlement that he displayed in his actions. "Don't look at me like that. I know you're curious about the whole marriage thing. Who knows, maybe someday you'll find yourself a nice fellow wisp and - "

            All it took for Himmel to cut his statement short and burst out in laughter was how Venti prodded against his neck as a feeble attempt to make him quiet down.

               And as Himmel has predicted, Venti - in time - did understood.

                        Venti was able to perceive the reasonings of mortals to turn their heads away from the beckon of the wind, to live a peaceful and quaint life, some alone, and some with their spouses. Himmel had done his absolute best to explain to him the wanders which are humans, and gleefully watched as Venti attentively listened to every word he spoke.

      However, at the end of the day, Venti was still a free spirit. He can never be tied down to one place, much more to another living being. He will always find himself favoring the whisper of the winds in Teyvat, adrift and letting himself go adrift.

            It was after he had witnessed the life in Himmel's eyes leave, heard his last breath, the whisper of the triumph of Mondstadt in achieving freedom, and his final request as he stroked Venti's quivering figure - A sad smile has been painted upon Himmel's brims as he gazed at the smaller entity weeping under his touch, "I ask only for one last favor from you, my dearest friend. Look after Mondstadt, after our people, for me, and never let everything we've sacrificed go for naught."

                          Venti was still a free spirit, but with what happened to Himmel, he longed to understand how he saw the world. It seemed he understood it differently than he did. And thus, he took the form of his beloved friend, and ventured closer than he had before to mortals.

      The day he found a place in The Seven, the fateful he became the Anemo Archon, Venti has not once missed an event with his people. He celebrated with them in festivities, cried with them in their sorrows, aided them in battles against transgressors or wars within their own mind. He laughed with them, ate with them, drank with them, and his love for his people grew everyday.

          But still, he can never stay for too long.

                      Venti tried to, he really did, for his friends, as his last gift before he lets go of the pain of losing him. But cannot force himself to remain in one place if his heart kept searching for places to explore, people to meet, discover the secrets of Teyvat.

    Hopelessness was beginning to gnaw inside him as hundred of years has passed, and he has already traveled through long distances and saw generation after generation of his people in Mondstadt, and yet nothing he has yet to fulfill his own promise to hos friend.

           Perhaps this was the way it was supposed to be. Maybe only mortals are giving the ability to be content and stay, but the Anemo Archon was forever to be appearing and disappearing - always, always stringing along with the wind.

                      And Venti believed that thought of his, and it stuck to him throughout many more years in Teyvat.

       Not even a dust of faith was left in the ruins of what he now thought of as a vanquished promise, marring Venti with a wound in his heart, and a doubt in his standing as an Archon. However, it was through this belief that took him by surprise when he met a rather strange woman at the last day of the Windblume Festival, and in Stormterror’s Lair, no less.

                    The Honorary Knight, and their odd traveling companion have long been gone after they bid him farewell and a safe travel in his return to his abode – or whatever dwelling was the closest he could denote as home – leaving Venti by himself to reminisce in the ruins of where Old Mondstadt once stood.

                                        The heavens were a color of black dotted with stars and the moon. The wind has grown softer, as though to accompany him in this lonesome hour, leaving chaste kisses against his pallid skin. From afar, the City of Mondstadt remains lit with lanterns and plethora of flowers. Even in this distance, he can oversee the joy that exuded from the people as they celebrated the remaining hours of the festival and take in the fragrance of the flowers friends and partners exchanged with one another. It was a beautiful sight to behold if one sits in such a desolate and dark place, in the very tower that he had confronted Stormterror – no, it was Dvalin now, Stormterror has perished along with the danger of the past.

                                        But a presence – curious, sorrowful – has intervened in the quiet evening Venti thought he had saved for himself. He stood up from the platform where he has previously perched upon and took off to take a gander in the Lair, and it did not take a moment longer for him to spot a figure nearby. There, standing on top of a boulder clad in a crestfallen expression was a lone woman. She was casting her gaze around Old Mondstadt, and the breeze blew her tears away,

            Venti had never seen her before. He had met every family, every person, in Old Mondstadt, and the same was to be said to the generation that followed after them. He knew them well, recalled their quirks and appearances, and this woman has no resemblance to any of them. Has she come from another nation?

                                   Venti made it his point to glide down and noiselessly land behind her, but it seems his efforts have failed him for this stranger spoke the second his feet made contact with the ground.

        "I wonder how this place used to be." You stated, and Venti was unsure whether you have felt his presence or you were speaking to yourself.

   “So, this is Old Mondstadt.” She stated in a murmur. Her voice was laced with awe, but with evidence of forlornity. “I heard rumors about what happened here, and-and the thing with Stormterror too. Archon, I wish someone would tell me the real story of the City of Freedom. Back in my home, we’re not even allowed to learn much about the Archons of other nations. It’d be foolish to just trust rumors.”

                                  There was something about her that piqued his interest. He did not know what it was. Maybe it was the way she talked about Mondstadt, her interest in the history of his city and his people, the sincere sorrow she felt for what the fallen tyrant of Mondstadt had had done to his former subjects, and how he had forced their hands to rebellion to protect their nation.

                            Venti spoke before he can stop to think. “If you’d like, I can retell the story of how Old Mondstadt came to be. I’m well versed in the history of this city, so rest assured everything you’ll hear is the truth.” He carved a smile to his lips. “And I am a Bard, so you have no need to worry about me chatting your ear off. All it takes is an audience and my lyre to get me started. Of course, a private performance will cost you, but since you’re new in the city, I suppose I can – ”

                                  His breath was taken away when the stranger turned to face him, and his words withered from his tongue. Ever seen a speechless bard? It was a sight people will scarcely see.

                Could he ever compose a song to even come close to the lovely view that was before his eyes? Gleaming curious pair of eyes, a smile so eager to listen, hair flitting with the wind as his heartbeat raced –

             Venti was used to captivating his audience with his songs and stories. However, this time, it was he who was captivated, and when he took out his lyre and played a sweet tune to sing the story of his beloved city, with this gorgeous woman listening to him with bright and shining eyes, Venti knew then that he wanted to play for her every song he knew, every story he saw and heard, to the end of time.

                            You told him your name after his song, and you came all the way from the isolated nation of Inazuma. It took him by surprise how you have confidence in him to reveal to him your identity and place of birth. Surely, not everyone will trust a stranger who has appeared out of nowhere who offered to sing them a song. But then again, Venti trusted you as quickly as you trusted him, and now it was his turn to listen as you confide in him.

  You have escaped from your home nation and survived out in the seas under the heat of the sun and threat of starvation for days until a compassionate Captain from Liyue, and her crew found you and delivered you to safety. And it was after your recovery that you fled to Mondstadt, the opposite of the nation you were born in.

                     Venti found himself sitting down in front of you as you told him your story, sight never leaving your frame as he did so. You were no Bard, and you were no storyteller, but he cannot tell the time or noticed the sun has set as you regaled him with story of Inazuma and your life after and before your escape. He was enchanted with the way you spoke, how you looked about Old Mondstadt with saddened awe, the fervidness in your voice – Have I found myself a rival? Thought Venti, eyes softening as you went on about your admiration for the affability and generosity his people have shown you.

                                                          When you left that day, you promised to come back and when you do, you shall ask him to sing to you more of his songs. At first, Venti was hesitant to believe your promise, but to his relief and happiness, when he saw you in the same place in the ruins undoubtedly waiting for him with your eyes closed and relishing in the wind that rushed past you. Venti always came to Stormterror’s Lair to oversee what remained of his old home, but for once, his sights were held torn and you have all his attention.

                   Seeing you keep your promise of return made his day, but when you whipped your head to face him with a smile, waving a hand as you asked him to sit with you, Venti knew that his heart desired yours. Was it a wise decision to fall for someone you've only just met? Certainly not, but he was an Archon who had too much time but too little for those who he holds dear. He cannot afford to be unsure when his time with you was limited.

     So, he decided – when the day is right and the wind is quiet, he shall make his feelings for you known.

            It became a routine for the two of you to meet in Stormterror’s Lair and share your stories with one another, Venti always telling his in songs, as a Bard would. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and every story told in the ruins were to be fascinated of. And soon, it wasn't just stories. Soon, he was finding out more about you, knowing you better until he couldn't get you out of his head.

                  It became a routine for the two of you to meet in Stormterror’s Lair and share your stories with one another. Venti always told his in the form of songs, as a Bard would, you will always applaud him after, to which he would respond with a melodramatic bow. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and every story spoke in the ruins and the silence of the night was to be fascinated of.  He was learning more about you, knowing you better, until he couldn’t get you out of his mind when his head falls against his pillow.

    Venti cherished these times he had with you. He knew it won't be long until you were gone. He knew his fate as an Archon – seeing loved ones perish and more to come, and the cycle continued.

                                           He hasn't even told you about his identity.

                          Venti was grateful for the Traveler for pushing him to tell you about his feelings and his standing in Teyvat, but he was still uncertain. What would you say if he confessed to you? What will you say if he admits to being the Anemo Archon? Will things change between the two of you? Will you leave? Venti can’t think about that.

                                                                       Venti grew worried when you didn’t come to Stormterror’s Lair one day, and then another, and his concern grew as days turned to weeks. Everyday he found himself visiting Stormterror’s Lair in hopes of seeing you waiting for him again, but he was always left disappointed. You did not mention going on an adventure or a commission, so his worry was warranted. Were you safe or were you simply sick of him?

                 When the day you finally appeared in the Lair, relief washed over Venti and he practically jumped off the broken tower he frequently resided and made haste towards you. But his footsteps faltered when he found no traces of a smile on your face. He can see the relief and joy, but the smile was absent. From that, Venti’s own beam wilted as he walked over to you with reluctant steps.

      When he came close to you, he opened his mouth to ask how you have faired for the past weeks and question your abrupt disappearance when you said something that took him by surprise.

                                    “I know who you are.”

          It felt like his entire world has stopped for a moment as he stared at you with disbelief smearing his countenance. How ever did you discover the truth? Certainly, he had similarities with his statues, but none of his people nor visitors from outside ever pieced the puzzle together.

                            He averted his gaze, ashamed. Why was he wallowing in shame? Or perhaps was this regret of not telling you sooner? Did you feel betrayed? Will you cast him away?

                      “But how . . . ”

                                            “The man at the Tavern told me, Master Diluc.” You answered. “I was telling him about you, and I guess he thought I already knew of you being the . . . Anemo Archon.”

           “Is that why you were gone for weeks?” Venti questioned, and when you nodded in response, he winced. He can’t help but think of the worse – She’ll leave me.

                          Venti looked away. “Ah, I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, it is hard to believe someone like me is an Archon.” He laughed out, but the humor was nonexistent in his statement. “So, how do you feel about that?”

                      Venti let out a gasp when you threw yourself to him and enveloped him in a tight hug. Venti froze at your actions and waited for you to withdraw, but when you did not, he slowly accepted your embrace with gratefulness. He didn’t know what you do this, but he was more than happy to reciprocate your actions before he lets you go.

        It won’t matter, anyway. He’ll hear the winds calling for him somewhere soon. Maybe letting you go now would hurt less in the long run.

                    “Are you not . . . angry?” Venti asked as he closed his eyes and rested his chin on your shoulder.

                                    “Oh Archons, no, Venti. I could never hate you.” You assured him in a whisper and from the brokenness on your voice, Venti knew you were crying. “Those times you told me about Barbatos . . . all the stories about his past . . . everything he had gone through . . . ” You murmured, tone lowering. “ . . . you must have been so hurt and lonely.”

                                              He didn’t know why your words shot through him. He can feel tears streaming down his cheeks as memories of his past and the continuous pain of loss and regret caught up with him. Finally, after thousands of years, his false smile was shattered.

          How pathetic. He thought. An Archon weeping in front of a mortal that he is in love with. Could things get any worse?

                  Your hand stroked his hair, comforting him as he cried against your shoulder and in your arms.

                          “I was . . . ” He breathed out, choking as he tightened his grip around you. “ . . . it never stops hurting . . . I keep seeing Himmel, and everyone, and – ”

                He couldn’t finish what he was saying and just relished in the comfort of your arms, breathing in your scent.

                                    “I don’t understand what you’ve been going through these thousands of years, and I never will, but it’s okay now, Venti.” You whispered in his ear, and he can detect the compassion and love lacing your voice. His heart hammered against his chest. “You have me. You don’t have to pretend everything is okay. I’m here for you. I want you to be Venti and Barbatos with me, I want all of you.”

             He couldn’t believe his ears. Did he hear you correctly? You want him?

                    Venti gently retracted himself from you, but his arms remained at your sides. “You still want me, even after I kept this from you?”

         “I want you, Venti.” You clasped your hands over his shoulders, firmly looking into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere anymore. I’m staying here, with you.”

                 And so, you stayed, and so did he – it was the first time he stayed, and he will never regret it.

One would think that as a renowned Bard in Mondstadt, Venti would push for a grand wedding where all people of Mondstadt are invited to wine and dine together as bards banded together to regale everyone with their music, and as the Archon who values freedom above everything else, a big part of him wanted to. But he thought of you and what you wanted. It took some time for him to deliberate over how selfish it would be for him to make you uncomfortable in your wedding day and agree a small wedding would be a much better option considering how sacred and intimate marriage is.

However, knowing you cannot simply have the Anemo Archon go against his belief, and of course because of your love for him, you have secretly devised a plan with Jean and Kaeya to invite all the citizens of Mondstadt to your reception to celebrate this joyous occasion for the two of you. There was more than enough food and drinks to feast, courtesy of Master Diluc, and you’re sure Venti will be over the moon with this surprise. 

Venti had no family, and those he did consider as family were long gone, just a memory from the past. Even though it is unusual for a groom not to have a best man in his wedding day, Venti claimed he was fine without a best man. He had no doubts in marrying you. When he proposed to you, there was no touch of regret or doubt. Albeit reluctantly, you were in a mutual agreement in that matter, as well. Until, of course, an unexpected tribute arrived offering his services.

Venti was not the least nervous when the day of your wedding came. He did not waste time when he woke up and immediately got to work on his appearance. Jean was kind enough to have his wedding suit tailored for him, an early wedding gift, as she says.

Venti knew of the rule that a groom mustn’t see his bride in her wedding gown until the time she walks on the aisle. But he was just so thrilled for this day that he forgot all about it. And even if he did remember it, who in the world would stop him from seeing you? He has no best man to stop him anyway -

Venti almost choked to death when a hand came to grasp him by his the back of his collar, and he blubbered pathetically as he was thrown off balance and was dragged back to the altar.

“Who are - Master Diluc? What are you doing?”

Diluc let out a huff as he continued dragging Venti away from your house. “Stopping you from upsetting your bride. I’m sure you know that you shouldn’t see your bride in her gown before the wedding?”

“But Master Diluc, as much as I appreciate what you’re doing, you’re not in any position to - ”

“Actually, I am in a position where I’m allowed to stop you from making a mess of your wedding.” Said Diluc. “I’m your best man, after all.”

Venti couldn’t put to words how touched he was, and more so when you revealed to him after the wedding that Diluc has offered to be his best man by his own volition. As thanks, the next time Venti visited the tavern to drink, he paid for a single bottle of wine once. It wasn’t exactly ideal but considering how he had no original plan to pay Diluc for any of the drinks he will consume, this was as good as it gets.

When the doors opened to reveal you in your pretty white wedding dress, Venti swooned, and a large joyous smile stretched across his lips.

A gentle breeze swept in the altar and Venti felt his feet leave the ground briefly, floating in the air as he excitedly watched you walk down the aisle, and it took Diluc’s hand pulling him down by the back of his suit to stop him from floating up above the cathedral.

“My, my, if I knew any better, I would have thought the Archons have taken favor on me and blessed me with a beautiful bride.” Venti said once you join him in the altar and took your hands in his own. “You look beautiful, darling. I might just write another song about you.”

You shook your head, pink tinting your cheeks. “Haven’t you written enough songs about me?”

Venti inched his face close to you, his large smile altering to a soft smile. “There aren’t enough songs to tell you how much I adore you.”

The wedding went on, and when the two of you kissed, only one thing entered in Venti’s mind - I found my reason to stay, Himmel. I just hope you can see this.

The wind blew gently.

     KAEYA

                      Kaeya did not know what to feel when his brother has made it clear once and for all that he wanted nothing to do with him. His dismissive remarks, his heated glares, his cold and aloof treatment – he had known Diluc for so long, and his memories with him in their childhood never grew old in his mind, so it pained him to have his once bright-eyed sibling who aspired to be part of the Knight acting as though they were strangers. No, strangers would have been merciful. He acted as if the bond they had never meant anything to him, and casting him aside and seeing him under the light of contempt was the easiest decision he has ever made.

                                               Even you were not spared from the same fate. The three of you become inseparable the day you and Kaeya were introduced to each other. You’ve done everything together, and it would be a strange sight to see one missing from the group.

                When Diluc has cut ties with Kaeya, you suffered the same fate as he. You poor, poor thing – you tried your best to patch the friendship he no longer wanted to be part of, and Kaeya did not waste time running to your side and picking up the pieces Diluc shattered. It was not an easy feat for both of you to lose Diluc – he lost a brother, and you lost a good friend.

                                 But it was because of your fall out with him that you and he become closer than ever, closer than before, if that could even be possible. The two of you support one another and you go to each other when things get difficult.

             Kaeya will never admit it, and he would rather die than do, but he has loved you for many years. The moment Diluc pulled him into an unknown house, claiming that he wanted to meet someone important to him, and his eyes landed on your form with the sunrays kissing your skin, a wide smile stretching across your face, and a fake sword in your hand, his heart was taken.

                            You were one of the reasons he wanted to become a Knight. Diluc admitted his want to become a Knight, and you expressed the same sentiment, and of course, hearing his friend and brother say so, he became inclined of joining the Knights. I’ll get good training. He thought back then as stared at you, blushing as you braided Diluc’s hair. Then, I’ll be able to protect ( Your Name ).

        Now that Diluc no longer wanted to be in contact with you than more than is necessary, Kaeya grew to be more protective over you. He knew you can handle yourself as you were a Knight yourself and wields a Vision, too, but his heart clenches at the thought of you getting hurt when he could have easily had your back, like he always did.

                                                 Kaeya didn’t knowif you had feelings for him, or for anyone, for that matter. Many times he thought of confessing to you just to rip the band aid off, but he couldn’t. He’ll keep his feelings to himself and continue being the Cavalry Captain that everyone adored, and your own personal protector.

   But it was getting harder and harder to hide his feeling. Everyday he was always under the threat of falling deeper in love with you. Everyday, you always give him more reasons to love you. Waiting for him to come home after taking too long in his work, taking care of him after a nasty battle or when he’s drunk, always checking up on him even if your schedule was hectic, offering him help if you deem the responsibility given to him is too much. How much longer can he pretend that he wasn’t thinking of you everyday and every night?

                                He was pulled back from his train of thoughts when he felt a soft material doused in alcohol perch on the wound blemishing his skin. “Ah, be gentle, ( Your Name ),” Whined Kaeya, stilling himself to refrain from moving and delaying your nurse on his cuts.

                          “We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had only been careful fighting those Abyss Mages.” You reprimanded with a stern glare. “Think of this as your punishment from me. Now, hold still.”

                      “I was fighting Abyss Mages and came back with small wounds. How am I not careful?”

       “You can be more careful.” Quipped you, and finding your chance, you pressed the cotton again his skin, causing the Cavalry Captain to hiss in pain.

                      “Ow, ow, ow – I said be gentle!”

                                         “Oh, you can fight Abyss Mages but can’t handle getting your wounds treated? What a baby.”

                        Kaeya pouted while you pulled away from him. “My dearest ( Your Name ) doesn’t love me anymore.” He cooed. “Tell me, what can I do to make it up to you, hmm?”

                                      You shook your head and placed your hand over his head, beaming. His heart leaped in his chest. “Stop being reckless.” You responded. “You’re the most important person to me, Kaeya. I don’t want to lose you too.”

             Days and days he spent thinking of what you said. He never truly knew how he important he was to you. The thought of that had him sleeping and dreaming of you and your smiles, how the days will be if you loved him the same way he loved you, and the fateful day you owned his heart.

   He had to thank Diluc for introducing him to you. He couldn’t imagine being in a world where he has no one to lean on when he lost the only family he had. You became his rock, someone he could lean on and trust. His friend who he loved more than he should have, the woman he wished to see in his arms someday.

                     But it will never be. He has to protect you. He is always in danger and he doesn’t want to hurt you more if he died and you two are in a relationship. And he had seen firsthand how affected you were when Diluc no longer wanted to be friends with you. He won’t let you go through the same pain if your relationship didn’t work. He loved you too much to let you suffer again.

                                  Kaeya didn’t think he would be able to thank Diluc again after their fall out but he was mistaken.

                            He didn’t know the full story of what had happened the night he got shitfaced drunk in the tavern but woke up the next day to learn he has revealed his feelings for you in front of his brother, and the latter had casually mentioned it to you when you dropped by the tavern to escort him back home.

                      Regret and frustration welled up inside of him and he spent ten minutes walking back in you guest room, trying to explain himself and perhaps even jest about having feels for you but his preparation was all futile when you opened the door just as he was about to.

               Before he can speak, you beat him to it.

        “The next time you get drunk like that, you’re sleeping on the couch.” You chastised, shaking your head and proceeding to turn your back to him to return downstairs. “Freshen up, and head down. I already cooked you breakfast, so hurry up before it gets cold.”

                                              Kaeya stared blankly at the spot you previously stood before smiling. He rushed over to the staircase and looked down to watch you descend the steps. “I won’t keep you long, love.”

                            His smile broadened when he saw redness rush to your cheeks.

Kaeya proposed to you in a way you expected him to propose to you. A fancy dinner at a fancy restaurant where he ordered a fancy bottle of wine and placed the fancy ring he bought into your glass. It was only because you knew him well that you have no accidentally imbibed the accessory. 

Upon receiving your answer to his proposal, the first thing Kaeya did the day after is hunt down for a best man. As a popular and charming Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, he thought it would be an easy task finding himself a best man but that notion gradually wilted as the date for your wedding approaches, he has yet to find someone to take the position.

In his pursuit for a best man, Kaeya came to realize something. His relationships with others aren’t exactly intimate. They drink and laugh together, but none of them really knew him. Kaeya couldn’t go to them with his personal problems or have their shoulders ready for him to cry on. They were good friends, but not people he would let inside his heart and vulnerability.

There were only two people who knew him behind the title of Cavalry Captain - you, and of course, his estranged brother, Diluc.

The very thought of Diluc sent a shiver down his spine. Diluc hated him and ( Your Name ). He pushed them away, treated them horridly, like they had been nothing to him but strangers with bad memories. Why would he want him to be his best man?

He remembered one day in Angel’s Share, he asked Venti if he could stand as his best man in the wedding and he swore he heard a glass dropping from behind the counter but when he turned, he saw Diluc wiping a wine glass with a blank expression. When Kaeya faced Venti once again, the excitement of being asked of such honorable position has withered and the Bard kindly declined before telling him to ask Diluc to be his best man. He did not.

Who cares about best man? The only thing important to me right now is marrying ( Your Name ).

But when the day of his wedding dawned, Kaeya was in a panic. Behind his charm was a man with a dark past, dark memories, and dark thoughts. He began doubting his ability to give you the life you deserve, began feeling insecurities he thought he had set aside.

He tried his best to remain calm, and for the most part, it worked. Everyone did not find something amiss when Kaeya was interacting with them before the wedding, but someone did, and that someone took him by his arm and dragged him a far and secluded corner after excusing him from who he was conversing with.

“Stop fidgeting with your tie, it’s beginning to bother me.”

Kaeya let out a huff. “Master Diluc, what a . . . surprise that you’re here.”

“You sent me an invitation.” The red head retaliated.

Kaeya had indeed sent him an invitation but he had no recollection of this or whatsoever. He was too wasted to remember.

“The Cavalry Captain losing his cool. Now this is a wedding just waiting to be ruined.”

It was almost like magic how the anxiety that has been eating him up vanished at his brother’s taunt. Kaeya glared at Diluc, opening his mouth to retaliate but before he can even let a single word move past his lips, Diluc turned his back to him and returned to the cathedral, leaving Kaeya in disbelief.

He let out a huff as he stared at his brother’s retreating form. “Bastard still knows me best.”

Kaeya has taken the reins over his emotions again, and he was sure he can keep his composure when you enter through the doors. But he was thoroughly mistaken as he swallowed the lump in his throat when his sight landed on you.

It felt like a dream. How can someone like you love him? In all his flaws, mistakes, and faults, how did you see him as someone you can lean on? Someone you want to spend the rest of your life with?

Surely, he must be dreaming. He’ll wake up in his bed any moment now and realize that everything had been the foolishness of his mind -

Except you continued making your way down aisle, and then you were in front of him with a veil covering your flushed face, and then he was slipping his hands in yours. This was real. You love him.

You leaned forward to him, nose brushing against his. “You look very dashing today, Kaeya.”

Kaeya chuckled. “And you look splendid today, Mrs. Alberich - oh, don’t go shy on me now.”

His smile broadened at the sight of your reddening cheeks. If it wasn’t for the priest speaking right now, he would have flipped over your veil and kiss you.

But there is plenty of time to do that. Kaeya will make sure of that.

     XINGQIU

          The youngest of the Guhua Clan will rarely be seen without a novel in hand. Everyday, Xingqiu will be seen with his friends with a book near him, always different from yesterday. He had read many novels and heard stories from storytellers, but one story he will never get tired of was his story with you.

       Although it may not seem like it, Xingqiu was a hopeless romantic, and he has always imagined seeking a woman to make his bride. However, it will always be something he can only imagine. As a heir of the Guhua Clan, he has responsibilities to keep and adhere, and he has willingly accepted this. Being given the freedom to choose his bride is something he cannot afford. When his father has informed him about offering him to a daughter of another prestigious clan, he has voiced his discontentment and disinclination to the arrangement but has nonetheless followed.

                  What a horror it would have been if he had followed through with the tiny voice inside his head saying to run away because if he did, he would have missed the chance of laying eyes on you and experiencing what many romance novels he read called – a heart skipping a beat.

           It was a tiring charade of formalities and display of pristine etiquette. All Xingqiu wanted was to retreat to a secluded area and continue immersing himself in the book he has picked up from the local library. With how often he reads, the novels in his own house he has already read, twice.

                                And so, he did. He kindly excused himself from the dinner between the families, making up a lie about feeling unwell and needing rest, and hurried over in the fields near his place. It is not exactly rude for him to skip dinner. It is not exactly ideal for his bride-to-be to be late in an important occasion like this so why shouldn’t he exhibit the same treatment as they did to him?

                    When he came to the spot be frequented, he caught sight of an unfamiliar figure from afar. A girl around his age sat on the bench under the tree, in the same spot he always occupied. She wore clothes similar to the families of the clan his family are negotiating with, so it didn’t take long for Xingqiu to learn this girl was related to them. He just didn’t know what her standing was with them.

 She was beautiful, he will admit, but it was the book in her hand that caught his attention. Thus, he approached her, adorning a friendly mask as to not scare her away. It is rather uncomfortable meeting strangers in the dark of the night and somewhere far from civilization.

           “Her hair billowed as she stood by the precipice, golden hues dimming in the dying light as she was left disappointed for yet another century. Her tears stung her skin and her throat tightened, but another century is simply common for someone like her. She will wait for his return, even if every mountain has eroded and all that was left of her was hope.” He recited a line from the novel as he took even ambles towards the girl, and he did not falter as she turned to face him. He offered her a smile and bowed with the elegance that his family taught. “Apologies for my disruption, my liege, but I can’t help but be thrilled to see someone with such incredible taste for literature. Not many are fond of historical fiction. Well, in my case, not many are into literature.”

                                        Her eyes appraised him with wonder as she perfected her posture. “That’s one of the lines in the book. My, even I haven’t memorized a single phrase from any of the books in my collections.” She remarked.

                                “I like to memorize a line or two from all the books I’ve read. It feels like a part of them will always be with me even if my memories fade in time.” Xingqiu gestured to the vacant spot beside her. “May I sit next to you?”

     She let out a laugh, to which sent shivers down Xingqiu’s spine. “You may. It’s not everyday I get to speak with someone with the same interests as me.”

                      He gladly seated himself beside her and immediately, he was greeted with the fragrance of flowers.

                    The girl extended her hand to him, smilingly softly at him. “My name is ( Your Name ),” She introduced herself. “You’re probably thinking you haven’t seen me around in Liyue, and you’re right. My family is here to meet with the Guhua Clan.”

                                                      Xingqiu took her hand and pressed a chaste kiss on the back. “Glad to make your acquaintance, my lady. My name is Xingqiu from the Guhua Clan.”

      Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. “Is that so?” She mused. “Then, I must show my sincerest gratitude for letting my family into – ”

               “Ah, there’s no need for that,” Dismissed Xingqiu as he shook his head. “We’re far from the dinner they’re sharing together. No need to be so formal with me.”

          Her smile brightened. “I have a feeling we’re going to get along splendidly, Xingqiu.”

                        Upon returning together to his house and finding an excuse as to why Xingqiu had been outside did he and ( Your Name ) learn that it was them who were destined to be married when they are of age. The disappointment of meeting his soon-to-be bride has dissipated at the revelation, leaving him filled with utmost joy and pride as to having you as his, and from the shy and gleeful smile that wandered to your lips, Xingqiu can tell you think the same with him.

It was to be expected that the two of you will have a luxurious and grand wedding. With the two of you coming from wealthy families, it was no surprise. If you have insisted for a small wedding consisting only of close relatives and friends, your parents will fear some other elite clans will perceive this as them losing power and money and will take advantage of them or simply cut ties with them. You and Xingqiu had no other choice but to respect their requests. Although Xingqiu was secretly relieved you agreed to a big wedding. For him, you deserved only the best of the best, and in this case, larger is better.

Both families came to an agreement that it would be for the best if the two of you are not to see each other for the week before your wedding day. You found nothing wrong with this arrangement. Xingqiu, however, was the opposite of you.

Many times he tried to sneak out of his house to visit you in secret but Chongyun has thwarted this attempts many times. When he goes to adventures with the Traveler, he find himself missing you in mere hours. How can he survive a whole week without communicating with you?

Oh, how foolish of him. He was now allowed to visit you but he can, however, write letters to you.

For the whole week, Xingqiu will be writing to you without ceasing. You’ll have a difficult time keeping up with his letters but you’ll always find time to respond to him. After all, you missed him just as much as he missed you.

Xingqiu woke up before the sun can call for him. He walked around in his room, breathing in and out as he tried to soothe his joy. Chongyun, who was tasked to look after Xingqiu for the whole week, woke up from the sound of his footsteps. When he stepped inside his best friend’s room, Xingqiu held Chongyun’s hands and twirled him around, startling the half-asleep Cryo user.

“I’m getting married to ( Your Name ) today!”

“I know, Xingqiu. I’ve been stopping you from visiting her the whole week.”

Your wedding was held in a beautiful garden where cherry blossoms flutter and the wind was gentle and cool.

Xingqiu always held his composure in any situations and circumstances he encountered. But he was going to admit that seeing you in your wedding dress with the cherry blossoms kissing your skin and tresses every now and then had him malfunctioning.

It took a worse turn when you finally stood before him, expectantly looking at him. A compliment, a playful jest, a seductive remark - but there was none of that.

Xingqiu stared at you, eyes shining with admiration and his lips parted in pleasant surprise.

“Xingqiu, earth to Xingqiu,” You whispered. “You there?”

It was only after you spoke that Xingqiu snapped out of his stupor.

“Get yourself together, Xingqiu.” Stated Chongyun beside him in a whisper.

It took him a while to find him bearings but when he did, Xingqiu smiled at you and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

“Beautiful, just like the first time I saw you.”

     SCARAMOUCHE

            Scaramouche has dedicated his entire life to seeing through what his majesty, the Tsaritsa, desired. His life shall be nothing but a pawn for her to use in her schemes and may her will be done through him and her subjects. If she must dispose of him to make success of her endeavor, Scaramouche will gladly surrender before her eyes and bare his neck for her to cut. He will do anything she commands without a second thought, and anyone who dares get in his way will face the wrath of an incensed Harbinger.                

         It was all about the Tsaritsa. His entire his existence is for his majesty. It was all he ever believed in when the honor of being the sixth Harbingers was crowned over him. With that said, Scaramouche can never bring himself to admit his resolve has been altered upon his discreet visitation to the City of Freedom to conduct a more intimate investigation over the meteorites and the impact it had on the people of Mondstadt.

                      His skull was throbbing, his thoughts scattered, and frustration was beginning to settle inside of him. Scaramouche has just dispatched his soldiers to continue their research on the meteors after his failed attempt to eliminate the traveler. He was left alone in the tranquility of the night, with the remnants of the astrologist’s escape glittering beneath his eyes, mocking him.

     “I should have acted quicker. The Traveler will continue foiling The Tsaritsa’s plans.” Mumbled Scaramouche to himself. “No matter. There will be another chance in the future to finish off the hero of Mondstadt, and I’m sure it’ll come sooner than I expect. I must prepare for that time. I can’t make this mistake again.”

                  A curious hum that echoed behind him had him stiffening in his place and drawing out his weapon from thin air. “Are you interested about the meteors too?” A voice asked.

          Scaramouche turned around, and he found a woman standing behind him a few meters away. She has a beauty that he favors, a smile so gentle that it thawed a bit of ice in his heart, but a scowl made its way to his countenance. She’s taller than me.

  She didn’t look particularly like anyone he would have any interest in knowing, and when she has introduced herself to him after he supplied her with no answer, Scaramouche predicted correctly. She was merely an ordinary folk in any ordinary city with no Vision or any skillset that could benefit him in anything.

                                                    “I must get going.” Curtly stated Scaramouche and he turned around without even bidding goodbye to the woman.

                          “So soon?” You asked. “I thought we could at least talk what’s been happening – about the meteors, the stars.”

              Scaramouche frowned at the mention of the latter and he spun back around to meet your gaze. “The stars? What about the stars?”

                                        You smiled a secret smile. “The stars . . . they’re fake.”

         Scaramouche stared at you with wonder and amusement in his dark hues. He has always believed in that notion, and only a handful came to agree with him. Now, here a lady stands before him, with nothing in particular to offer him, speaking of the truth many has rejected.

                      He examined you from head to toe, evaluating your form before beckoning you to come over to him, saying, “Perhaps I can spare some time to talk.”

                  What was supposed to be a conversation within an hour or so has extended for a day, and when you requested to accompany him back to ship docked in Liyue Harbor to continue your conversation (it surprised him but has nonetheless allowed you to tag along) about the meteors and the stars, it dragged on for weeks.

     But Scaramouche would be lying if he said that was all you discussed about. There was only so much information they can relate to the subject that has intertwined their fates that it did not take long for the two of you to stray from it to favor a more civil conversation. He learned of your mundane life back in Mondstadt where you were merely another dot in the bustle of the city and he managed to extract from you valuable material regarding the Honorary Knight (in truth, you have willingly told him everything you knew about the Hero of Mondstadt and this he was very pleased with). He learned about your family, your work, your past, and your ambition to adventure throughout the lands of Teyvat even without a Vision.

                He thought it was foolish of you to believe you can ever get out of your city without a Vision. There were too many enemies that a simple adventurer like you could easily be overwhelmed with. Not to mention the Fatuis that he and his fellow Harbingers has placed all throughout Teyvat. The thought of you getting hurt, especially by his own soldiers . . . it did not sit right with him.

                                 Arriving at Liyue Harbor, Scaramouche proposed that you come with him. It is no secret that anyone who do not possess a Vision cannot survive if they were ever to embark on a journey. Hearing your desire for an adventure, Scaramouche has come to decide that as gratitude for your pleasant company and for your compliance in giving him information about the renowned traveler, he shall take you along in his voyage, showing you the grandest landscapes, granting your every need and desires, all the while keeping you at his side where he was certain you were safe.

    It was all to thank you, nothing else. It wasn’t because Scaramouche knew he would find himself missing you and the comfort you bring when you leave, nor was it because he was fond of you. Yes, yes, all just to show his gratitude.

              As his soldiers watched as Scaramouche led you aboard in ship with his hand interlocked with yours, they thought the same thing – Scaramouche is never the one to show gratitude to anyone. You had him smitten.

How you were able to fall in love with Scaramouche in such a short period of time is fascinating. Especially with his horrid personality.

But he was different with you. He was gentle, caring, and never raised his voice. The insults remained but there was no venom behind them. It took you quite some time to get used to his belittling remarks but it didn’t evade your perception how Scaramouche begun lessening his insults, opting for a more playful jab instead.

He proposed to you over at dinner. He had just come back from an expedition and came home to a table filled with your cooking. As the two of you are exchanging your stories of what went with your lives when you two were separated, Scaramouche placed his chopsticks away, looked at you straight in the eyes and said, “Marry me.”

How can you say no to such a romantic proposal?

Actually, you made him redo his proposal before you accepted but nobody else has to know about that.

There was no best man for Scaramouche in your wedding. The man was feared by everyone, and his fellow Harbingers hated him. Childe did insist on being his best man at one point but he almost ended up being fried by a lightning bolt. Apparently, the 11th Harbinger pestered him for a whole week trying to convince him to let him be the best man so his actions were justified - just a little bit.

You have to give it to Scaramouche. Regardless of his busy schedule and the current predicament in Inazuma, he managed to find time and opportunity to plan your wedding and marry you without having to worry about the Electro Archon and her subjects.

Scaramouche scoffed at the tradition of not being able to see you on the very day of your wedding. What good would it be? You were going to be his wife, and he wanted to see his wife. He saw himself above tradition, and visited you first thing in the morning at the day of the wedding.

It was no question Scaramouche was an authoritative man but he was more so as he prepared himself for the wedding.

His maids ran about in the room, providing everything he needed and wanted. Scaramouche was not known for being compassionate, but this was the first time they’ve been on the receiving end of his wrath. Normally, he would ignore their existence and not even bother to call them by their names but today, he was different. He acted worse than when he comes home after a failed mission.

The maids knew he was beyond frustrated with the wedding. So, they called to ask for your help.

“Scaramouche, you’re scaring the maids.” You cooed as you came up behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders.

Scaramouche let out a scoff, but you felt his frame soften. He sat before a mirror, and he gazed at your reflection as he placed a hand over one of yours. “Even they weren’t so terrible with their jobs . . . ”

“You’re making things so hard for them. And for yourself too.” You stated. “Marrying me shouldn’t be hard, should it?”

That statement set Scaramouche right, and when you left to carry on with your own preparation and the maids returned to their duties, he was more civil with them. If that’s what you want, then he can endure it.

The hour has finally arrived. Scaramouche has faced many dangers in his life, but it was only now he felt restless. What is taking you so long? He thought you wanted to marry him. Then what’s warranting your late arrival?

At that thought, you finally appeared by the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in your hands. Everyone in the venue gaped at your beauty, and Scaramouche was thankful you had everyone gazing at you. He didn’t want them to see the dumbfounded and poorly hidden lovestruck expression that crossed his mien for a moment.

But a sense of pride also touched him. 

That’s my bride.

When the ceremony begins, you and Scaramouche were seated side by side. You smiled brightly at him when you sat, but he didn’t any indication that he saw your smile and continued giving his undivided attention on the person conducting your wedding. You pouted heavily at this but said nothing and followed his actions. However, your smile returned when you felt his fingers hooking with yours. It was a small improvement, but it was intimate and loving.

Scaramouche didn’t cry in your wedding but when his arms held you tightly to his chest when evening came and two of you lied down on your shared bed, it was enough for you to know he loved you as much as you loved him.

Maybe more so.

     RAZOR

   Razor rarely experience human interaction, and if he did, it would be abrupt and depending on how the communication was being dealt by both parties, it would either be Razor who parts from them first out of wariness or lacking knowledge of being social or the other would, most of the time for the reason they find it disturbing a human could act so much like a wolf. The humans Razor constantly encounter are the hunters from Springvale and due to their bellowing voices and violence against his Lupicals, he has limited his ventures to Mondstadt unless something calls for an emergency.

        Other than the man who gave him his name, Razor only knew a handful of people – six of them being the Traveler, Traveler’s companion, Bennett, Klee, her big brother Albedo, and the woman he sees as his mentor, Lisa. He can only ever let his guard down when around them, though he was still a wee bit cautious of Albedo whenever Klee drags him to his camp.

                          He didn’t think he could meet anyone else who can consider a Lupical. That was until he met you. You were taking a peaceful stroll around Wolvendom – Archons know why you chose the most avoided place in Mondstadt to walk through – at the same time he was hunting down boars for his Lupicals.

  There was no rescuing or danger involved when he met you. It was a simple encounter, to which Razor was pleasantly surprised with. In almost all occasions, when he is meeting a fellow human being, it would be under rather unusual circumstances. He met the Traveler and her floating friend when they were being attacked by slimes. He met Lisa when she has painted the skies dark as she was singlehandedly fending herself off from a mob of Hilichurls. He met Klee when she was using her bombs to fish. He met Albedo in the middle of a chaotic experiment to which resulted in an evacuation. He met Bennett when he was hanging upside down from a tree when he tried to take an apple from a high branch, and the tree was up in flames.

                   To say, meeting you normally was a breath of fresh air.

      The two of you hit it off almost immediately, or so that is what it seems to you. Although you consider Razor a good friend even in just the few days you have met, he was still very careful of you. He had been deceived by humans before and it may be a little unfair to you since he trusted the Traveler and Bennett almost in an instant, he must first know you are trustworthy.

  And indeed, you’ve proven yourself as such. Perhaps, more so than the Traveler. You have done everything to show him you have no ill intentions against him and his Lupicals – helped him in hunting for sustenance for his family even if you have to knowledge in hunting, helping him broaden his vocabulary, helping him read and write – but it was your sacrifice to protect them that made him truly open himself up to you.

             An Abyss Mage has appeared out of nowhere and has wreaked havoc in their residence. Razor can feel his heart thundering as he raced through Wolvendom along with a few of his Lupicals who he had gone out with to hunt. Upon arriving at their home, Razor has anticipated to see the grass painted with red and wounded wolves whimpering in pain as others try to battle against the Abyss Mage. But to his relief, such image was not implemented into reality. Instead, he found his Lupicals sleeping soundly in their den, and the remains of the Abyss Mage has slowly evaporated in thin air. As the particles gradually disappeared, they made way for your presence to be revealed.

           Razor let out a gasp when he laid eyes on you. Bruised, bleeding, exhausted, but smiling as you happily waved at him with the hand clutching your weapon.

                              You happily advanced towards him, tittering. Razor reached out to take your hand, and reluctantly asked of your welfare. Now he understood why humans ask how one is fairing when they are clearly unwell – they do not know what else to say.

                      “Why would you do that?” Razor questioned as he brought you far from his den to tend to your wounds without waking his family. “You are hurt now.”

    “I can’t let an Abyss Mage hurt your Lupical.” You answered firmly, the smile you wore dissipating as you gazed into his eyes. “I might not be as strong as the Honorary Knight or Acting Grand Master Jean, but I fought well.”

               What was this odd sensation he was feeling? This strong urge to protect you, to take you in his arms and never let you go – what was this? He has never felt like this before. So light, so . . . flustered. He thought this feeling would be gone after a few days, but months has passed and since then, the feeling became more prominent, stronger. All the time he could never get enough of you and there will always be that lingering trickle of pain in his chest when you have to leave for the day. Razor knew you would come back the day after when the night has gone, but it never stopped that little ache.

                          Razor understood that he lacked understanding of feelings, so he confided to Bennett about it. Bennett was almost as clueless as Razor about feelings – almost – but he did know when someone was taking a liking of someone in a more amorous manner. He has filled Razor about exactly what he was feeling for you, and not the kind of feeling that he has for him and the Traveler, but the kind of liking he would have towards a . . . girlfriend? (Bennett had to explain to him the meaning behind girlfriend and it was no easy task).

            “Liking someone like a girlfriend . . . ” Razor muttered, scrunching his face in puzzlement. “ . . . like a mate?”

                                 Bennett flushed at the word but nodded. “Yes, like a mate.”

                                                Bennett tried his best to help Razor confess to you, and this is where disaster happened. Since Razor is mostly uneducated in terms of romantic feelings, he did not feel any anxiety crawling up to him when he decided to admit his feelings to you. The problem is that he has decided to confess in a wrong time and in a difficult situation.

       “You should confess to her after you’ve saved her from danger!” Exclaimed Bennett, beaming at Razor.

                   The latter tilted his head to the side. “Razor doesn’t . . . get it.”

    “Well, in the books I’ve read, the guys confess to the girls they like in a dangerous time. I don’t know how that’s safe, but it works. But since we don’t want to hurt ( Your Name ), you’ll save her before confessing!”

                    Bless his innocent heart, Razor trusted Bennett’s word without a smidge of doubt. His opportunity to admit his feelings came when the two of you saw Reckless Pallad being surrounded by Hilichurls getting ready to pounce on him. The thing is you too knew your way around a battlefield and have efficiently begun fighting off the Hilichurls. Razor watched as you made quick work of rescuing Reckless Pallad and he didn’t even notice himself beginning to pout in disappointment until you were right in front of him again, worriedly gazing at him.

             “Razor, what’s wrong?” You questioned, appraising him. “You’re not injured, are you?”

                                     He shook his head. “Razor not injured.” He confirmed.

        “Well, that’s good, but why aren’t you moving? We need to save that man.”

                            “Razor wanted to confess to ( Your Name ) by saving her.”

       Razor explained the plan of his confession he conspired with Bennett, how he would save you from danger and tell you his everlasting love that he didn’t notice the redness tinting your cheeks and the wide smile stretching across your face.

           Razor only took note of the phenomenon occurring on your features when he has finished elaborating his scheme. He narrowed his eyes curiously. “Your face is all . . . red. Sick?” He asked.

                                                                         Razor didn’t have a chance to further speculate just exactly was ailing you before you took hold of his face and softly placed your lips against him, catching him off guard.

                                      There was a blossom in his chest when you kissed him – this is love, right? Razor decided there and then he liked this feeling of love.

                      Needless to say, Reckless Pallad was left alone for the Traveler to save. Again.

Razor had no idea what weddings were. He has never heard of such thing before. The first time he did learn about it was when he was hanging out with you and the Traveler. The latter mentioned that you and him are invited in a wedding. Razor tilted his head in confusion but when he turned to ask you what it was, he froze. Your eyes were shimmering with joy and excitement. Razor liked seeing you like that.

So when you were preoccupied, Razor asked the Traveler what a wedding was. Perhaps a wedding was some sort of food that he can find in the wild?

After Traveler has explained what weddings are and the concept of marriage as well, Razor did not waste time trying to propose to you. Since he had no money to buy a very expensive ring, he asked Bennett for help to find materials so he can make one of his own. In the end, they had Wagner help them form a ring. It wasn’t exactly the best looking but when Razor showed it to you and asked for your hand in marriage (Traveler helped him with his proposal speech and had to explain that asking for your hand doesn’t mean literal), and he saw the pure joy on your face, he thought it was pretty enough for you.

Razor didn’t know you were happy mostly because he proposed to you but you didn’t tell him. He looked so proud with the ring.

Your wedding was small and only a very few people were invited. Klee insisted on being one of the flower girls and Razor almost agreed until she began spouting about bombs which will detonate in the air and will explode with flowers. Albedo advised Razor not to make her one of the flower girls because Klee, for sure, will bring flower bombs (it will explode with flowers, but the explosion is still there).

Razor chose Bennett as his best man. That was supposed to be a good thing but when the two of those pair up together, they can tend to cause a lot of chaos, unintentionally.

At the day of the wedding, nearly all the invitees refuse to enter the cathedral as they claim there was danger inside. When Kaeya and Jean came to inspect this danger they speak of, both wielded their weapons once seeing a pack of wolves huddled at the front, just before the altar, with Bennett and Razor telling them to behave.

You had to explain to Razor why it was dangerous and made people uncomfortable when there are wolves present in the cathedral. Although Razor was understandably disappointed by this, he conceded and brought his Lupicals back to Wolvendom. To make it up to him, you promised a private celebration will be held in Wolvendom with nobody else but you, him, Bennett, and of course, his Lupicals.

Razor didn’t know why Bennett seemed more nervous than him when the two of them were standing by the altar. 

“I’m going to ruin your wedding, Razor! Aren’t you worried?”

“ . . . but you not ruining anything . . . ?”

When you finally arrived in the cathedral, Razor felt excitement surge in his body and he can hardly stop himself from squirming on his seat. 

But he wasn’t smiling. These emotions . . . he was having a hard time comprehending them. It was good, it was nice, but it was overwhelmingly so.

He could have cried, and he almost did but when you were before him, smiling at him, he couldn’t help but smile back.

His beautiful wife, his Lupical.

Bennett was the one who cried in your wedding.

     ALBEDO

                It was always a fascinating sight to see a traveler meandering through Dragonspine without minding the sheer cold or flawlessly fending themselves off from the enemies lurking around. Even Albedo has some degree of difficult in navigating his way back to his camp without the Fatui spotting him or tailing him. But it was more fascinating to see a young woman standing in the middle of a freezing lake with nothing but her trousers and her brassiere.

                            It was a peculiar meeting, yes, but out of the ordinary people and matters has always endeared him.

    Albedo brought you to his camp as quickly as he can and asked Timaeus to hand you a cup of warm tea and a blanket. After thanking him for his kindness and consuming half of the beverage generously given to you, you introduced yourself.

             You were an adventurer who came all the way from Liyue to embark on a journey to discover the harshness and secrets that laid within Dragonspine, a mountain many do not dare set foot further in. Other than the mentioned reasons, training was a top priority of yours. You claim one cannot go further in their adventure while being comfortable in their current, and he completely agrees with your statement. When Albedo questioned why you had been in the middle of a lake in Dragonspine, you answered that being able to withstand the cold was just part of your training and seeing as he had caught you shivering to close to death, it was not going well.

                            Albedo didn’t think he would see you again after you parted from him, but he was surprised when the next day he found you waiting for him in his camp, a smile on your face as you stand proudly and wave at him.

   Something about you piqued his interest, if his interest was somehow related to how his heart accelerated whenever you come close to him to offer help with his experiment, or when his face grows hot if you offer him a compliment. He thought it was your way of showing him your gratefulness for taking care of you yesterday, so he allowed your presence in his camp, around him. Albedo didn’t expect you to visit again the next day, and the day after that, and so on and so forth. But he can’t say he disliked your frequent visitations, or your presence that always seem to be following him everywhere he went. He very much liked your company and thoroughly enjoyed listening about your adventures and everything you came across in your adventure. They were a good distraction from his experiments. Everything about you set his mind in ease.

             It wasn’t long until the two of you are spending more time together alone. No experiments, no work in mind. It just the two of you keeping one another company and sharing stories about your days, and making banters here and there – whether it be in a walk under the moon, or sharing a meal in Good Hunter, or while he paints somewhere in Dragonspine.

                 Although Albedo was not well versed in the complexity of romance and has deemed relationships to be rather tedious to uphold, but he was knowledgeable enough to know that in the process of his growing friendship with you, he has caught feelings for you.

  This has certainly brought difficulty in his relationship with you. Albedo, although never verbally admitting so, has always thought of feelings as a nuisance. In a relationship, in his own observation, disadvantages trump over advantages. He had seen the irrationality that love has caused, the stupidity. His observation led him to one conclusion – other than being friends with people, relationships is not for him.

           You have put him in a challenging situation. It would have been easy to cut ties with you if you haven’t successfully infiltrated his walls and snaked your way in his heart. The very thought of pushing you away was repulsive to him. Seeing the hurt cross your features – it will haunt him for the rest of his life.

                      The interest he had for you was not interest at all. It was the beginning of love. He should have been more alert, and this wouldn’t have happened.

                                 What if you returned his feelings and your relationship did not work? There was no way your friendship could be salvaged. Isn’t it much better to remain as friends than risk ruining any chance of keeping you in his life?

  No, no, that would be insanely idiotic. It will eat him up. Thus, he treated his feelings for you like an experiment. Dipping carefully, testing the waters – confessing to you.

        He can construct a confession that will perfectly enunciate his feelings for you while emphasizing your freedom to reject him and his desire to remain good friends with you. Surely, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. All he needed is for you to let him down, and he will hope you can still see him the same way after.

            All his preparations, however, were thrown out of the window when you beat him to confessing.

   Albedo had no idea how struck his expression must have been with puzzlement, anxiety and flatter as he attentively listens to every word that leaves your lips. His heart pounded at everything you were saying – everything he adored about you, you adored about him. Being unable to speak his mind felt foreign to him. After you finished your confession, a beautiful red hue coloring your cheeks as you looked into his eyes with hopefully eyes, all he can do his open his mouth a smidge, and close, and then open again. He must have resembled a goldfish at that time.

                      Albedo couldn’t believe it. You loved him, and here he was expecting to be rejected and thinking relationships were a waste of time.

                                          He was in a dilemma now. Accept your feelings as his heart desired to, or gently reject you for practicality? Having a lover would complicate his life and he will risk so many things that he were used to just to be able to keep his relationship with you fruitful. Was he ready for something like that?

           This was the first time Albedo has listened to his heart. He still remembered how he cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours, muffling the gasp that tumbled out of you.

                                Albedo might be a stranger to romance but he is an Alchemist and risks are part of his job, and risking coming out of his comfort to be with you was something you deserve, and maybe something he deserved as well.

You knew Albedo was going to propose to you. He was always immersed in his experiments and research that you took the responsibility of tidying up his lab. It did not take long for you to find a small black box nestled in the back inside a drawer filled with haphazardly thrown papers and used pens.

Albedo knew that you knew he was going to propose to you. The two of you were taking a peaceful stroll around Dragonspine and after a heartfelt speech, he knelt down to one knee, he curiously watched as you malfunctioned right in front of him, trying to elect which route of surprise should you take before displaying a less then satisfactory theatrics of surprise.

Nonetheless, the two of you are still happy.

You and Albedo agreed that the two of you will have a small and private wedding. Klee, however, did not. She was less than thrilled to hear about that and went on a whole spiel of the reasons why you should have the biggest and most fun wedding ever, as she said.

“ - then where will a really, really tall wedding cake and Klee is going to make a bomb that will explode in the skies where it will burst out many pretty flower petals - ”

Jean promised the two of you that she will keep an eye on her at the day of the wedding.

Albedo is adamant on two things - a small wedding, and having no best man, and the latter had two reasons. Although he is highly respected in Mondstadt, there was no one he could ask to be best man, and the second reason is that he loves you and is certain that marrying you is something he wants. No doubts. He didn’t need a best man helping him in something he didn’t need help with.

Albedo was also not someone to conform to the ritual of not seeing the bride on the day of the wedding until the very ceremony, but for you, he begrudgingly followed.

On the day of the wedding, Albedo prepared himself without the help of anyone. He prepared his own clothes and had Klee braid his hair (it was a wee bit sloppy and Albedo fixed them when she had her back turned to him and gave her all the credit).

The man reached for the door to visit you but he let out a sigh when he realized that he cannot. He made a promise that today, the first time he’ll see you is when you walk down the aisle. He has to keep his promise. Not to mention Klee blocked his way and reminded him of that (tried to block).

Albedo was a patient man. Patience was nothing new to him. His research and experiments needed patience or they will ultimately fail. It came to the point where being impatient made him uncomfortable. That’s exactly what was happening when he was standing at the altar. Nobody, not even the observant Kaeya himself, can tell Albedo was beginning to lose his patience.

The day had been a little too long. He wanted to see you already. It didn’t matter if the ceremony would take a while before he can kiss you and call you his wife. He just wanted to see you again.

Albedo turned away the moment you stepped inside the cathedral. You were far from repulsive or ugly (and he can never think of you like that), but he had to cast his gaze somewhere but on you. He knew you’ll be beautiful in your wedding dress, but seeing you now with your adorable and shy smile, with Cecilia flowers in your hands, and your eyes fixated on him and only him - Albedo nearly lost his composure.

This time he was sure Kaeya saw it.

“Waah, big sister ( Your Name ) looks soooo pretty!” Klee cooed loudly, causing the guests to let out a few chuckles of amusement.

His impatience was beginning to pierce through him. The moment you faced him, Albedo did not waste time grabbing your hands, and once he did, you saw him visibly soften, as though a huge burden was lifted from his shoulders.

“What happened to you?” You asked, giggling.

Albedo returned your smile. “I’m just very happy to see you.”

The fervor that he exuded when he kissed you certainly supported his statement.

THOSE WHO WILL HIDE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RECEPTION TO CRY SOMEWHERE NO ONE CAN SEE THEM

     CHONGYUN

    Chongyun was known for two things – being an exorcist and having a type of condition that needed his keen observation and awareness.

       He has always disliked his condition. Whenever his Yang energy overwhelms, he must immediately consume an icy treat to be able to soothe his nerves. But it seems he can be thankful for it for this one time. If it wasn’t for his congenital positivity, he wouldn’t have stumbled across you, and your hundred homemade ice cream you smuggled out of your own home.

                      Chongyun had been hurrying to meet his friend at that day. He had just finished an exorcism somewhere in Qingce Village and was rushing to where he and Xingqiu usually meet in Liyue. He was already running late, and who knows what Xingqiu will do if he was late again. He let out a pained yelp when he crashed against your form when he made a sharp turn, and his Yang energy has never been in a more unstable state than when he saw you seated on the ground, groaning in pain, with peculiar looking containers littering the floor around you.

                   Chongyun had profusely apologized for his actions and assisted you in gathering all the belongings he had knocked off your possession. He felt the coldness in the small containers you once held and wondered what was inside. He hasn’t seen anything like this before. He knew his Yang energy was starting to ooze out of him but he underestimated its manifestation until you placed your hand over his forehead. He pulled back away instantly, startled by your actions, to which you immediately apologized.

        “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He repeated, light blue hair bobbing with his movements as he bowed his head over to you again and again, mortification palpable on his features. “I-I didn’t mean to run – ”

                        “No, no, I should be the one apologizing! I wasn’t looking where I was going and I put my hand on you all of a sudden – ” You were about to continue spewing apologies and explanations when you froze, concern etching across his face. “ - oh, hey, you’re really, really red. Are you okay?”

                  Even when it had been years since his encounter with you, he still gets embarrassed when he remembered that, and you and Xingqiu tease him about it.

                                           He explained to you then about his condition and when you offered him a container you owned containing ice cream you made, that’s when your friendship begun. When the two of you snuck out to a secluded area in Liyue Harbor to gorge on the tons of ice cream you have once again brought out of your house despite your mother’s warnings did he know it would be a friendship that will last long. His only regret was that he introduced you to Xingqiu, and now he must endure double the teasing.

                       One thing he appreciated about you was how ready you were whenever you were with him. You made it your point to know what can cause his condition to act up and soothe him by your words, and always having ice cream with you. And the best part was that the ice cream you give him is always homemade, made by you. His popsicles could never compete to your masterpiece.

    He never really thought of you as someone he would be romantically interested in. Sure, there were instances when his Yang energy would flare up because of having you by his side, when your smile brought upon his own, when his heart raced when you held his hand as the two of you were returning from a commission, when he gazed at you with adoration when you took care of him and fed him cold noodles when he was having a fever (he refused to eat hot noodles even in his illness). Surely, all friends do that with one another, right? And feeling this odd sensation in his chest was normal, right?

                      When he confided in Xingqiu with this, the boy laughed at his cluelessness. It wasn’t surprising. Chongyun did not have a lot of friends so distinguishing friendship and romance was not easy for him. The Hydro Vision holder filled him in with everything he has to know about relationships, and he used some pretty unconventional ways like giving him a too descriptive image of how a man and woman would kiss, and other explicit doings of adults.

         But it did bring light one thing – Chongyun liked you, and of course how he handled such revelation was, simply put, disastrous.

                                      His entire body felt hot, and he was stammering to the point even the ever so eloquent Xingqiu cannot understand him. Normally, when things get like this, he’ll rush over to your place and request for some of your delicious ice cream but seeing as you were somehow part of the reason for this, he had to rely on Xingqiu to take care of him.

                      After learning about his feelings for you, Chongyun have never been more uneasy around you, which was odd, and he was sure you’ve noticed, and yet has never dropped any comment about it.

                     He was always nervous around you. Blushing whenever you come close to him, jumping when you take his hand in his, stammering whenever you praise him for anything, feeling the need to run away if you ask him about how he was fairing – he has lost count just how many popsicles he has eaten just to keep his cool. He has stopped asking ice cream from you and declined any offer from you because he thought accepting your homemade ice creams could lead him to falling deeper in love with you until he couldn’t move on anymore.

             Chongyun didn’t notice your growing impatience. He was so immersed in his own feelings that he didn’t take into consideration how you felt whenever he flinched away from your touch and rejected your treats.

   It took Xingqiu for the growing tension between the two of you to alleviate. He made an elaborate plan to get the two of you together in an isolated place (a broom closet) and has made a claim not to let any of you go until the two of you have confessed your feelings with each other.

                      “Just tell me what’s wrong with you, Chongyun! Why are you acting so weird around me?” You asked him but he refused to answer you just as he refused to look at you.

      You let out a sigh as you reached out to take his hand but when he pulled away from your touch, that was the last straw.

               “If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, just say so.”

          Alarmed, Chongyun faced you, stuttering. “No! Of course, I want to be friends with you - I mean, I don’t want to be friends - wait, that sounded wrong, and so bad - ”

   Your brows burrowed together in question. “You want to be friends but you don’t want to be friends?”

   Chongyun groaned as he buried his face on his hands. It’s now or never.

                “I like you, ( Your Name ).”

           The silence that followed was deafening for Chongyun. He removed his hands from his face and prepared himself to apologize and beg to continue being friends when he felt hands cup his face, and your lips pressing against his. It was a good thing you had ice cream on you even after he avoided you for weeks. He almost fainted in your arms if it wasn’t for you shoving a finger in his mouth with a scoop of ice cream. 

                                   It was one of the few times Chongyun was grateful for Xingqiu’s interest in romantic tropes because if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have left that room with a blushing but happy face with you.

      Xingqiu smirked as the two of you exited the room, hand in hand and redness coating your cheeks. “Well, well, well, look who - ”

                    “Shut up, Xingqiu,” You and Chongyun chorused. The two of you looked at each other out of surprise and then burst out laughing, all the while the Hydro Vision user stood by the side, sighing.

         “Now, I have to deal with these two’s teasing.”

When Chongyun realized he was ready to propose to you after years of being together, he asked Xingqiu to propose to you on his behalf.

His best friend nearly destroyed his book from whacking the Cryo user for thinking such an inane idea could work. Not only was it not romantic, it was also inappropriate. Xingqiu had to reprimand him for an entire hour proposing that idea but being a good best friend that he is despite his mischievous streak, he vowed to help the man propose to you.

It was no easy task and there were times where Chongyun held himself back and risking yet another proposal plan. He was thankful Xingqiu was well versed with romance and everything entailed with it and knew more ways to help him. After a countless of delays, Chongyun managed to get down on one knee one fine evening by the trails leading to Liyue Harbor, spew out affirmation of his love for you in stammers, and asked for your hand in marriage.

When you accepted his proposal and adorned your finger with the ring, Chongyun discreetly showed a thumbs up to a nearby bush. About three hands popped out from the leaves, offering the same action.

Xingqiu let out a sigh as Xiangling and Xinyan giggled. “Finally.” He breathed out. “Now, time for me to be his best man.”

Of course, Chongyun chose him as his best man. Who else would be a better choice than him? 

Chongyun is firm about Xingqiu being his best man but sometimes he can be a little bit . . . pushy, especially when it comes to something he believes in.

There was a tradition where he cannot see you for a whole week until the ceremony. Chongyun was mildly bothered by this arrangement but nonetheless, since you agree with it, he will respect your wishes and do the same. Xingqiu has over and over again tried to persuade him to visit you at home, and he made some interesting points why he should. He almost convinced him a few times but in the end, he refused to be lured in his trap and stopped the temptation of breaking his promise.

He missed you dearly, yes, and his patience will surely be rewarded soon.

Chongyun, as expected, was freaking out at the day of wedding. Marriage is a huge step for the both of you. You’re not going to regret marrying him, will you? What if this marriage didn’t work? He’ll lose you for you.

Xingqiu had to guide him away from the altar and to a corner for privacy. Other than you, Xingqiu was a person who had been when his condition start acting up and how it worked.

After successfully cooling him down with a popsicle, Xingqiu consoled Chongyun. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about back there but you have nothing to worry about. ( Your Name ) loves you.”

“What if it doesn’t work between us?”

“It will. I’ve seen how you two are. You’re perfect for each other. I think you already know that, and ( Your Name ) does too. Why would she accept your proposal if she didn’t think the two of you wouldn’t prosper together?”

Chongyun murmured. “Pity?”

If Xingqiu had a book with at that moment, he would have smacked Chongyun again.

Once his condition has subsided, Chongyun returned to the altar and Xingqiu stood behind him, waiting.

The moment you arrived, Chongyun can feel himself heating up and his heart pounding against his chest. It felt like his condition was acting up but he wasn’t feeling nauseous or at the edge of fainting. It was a pleasant sort of warmth, the warmth he felt when he first met you.

No. It was the same warmth that travels through his body whenever he sees you, but this time, it was stronger to the point he it almost felt like his condition.

Your smile immediately disappeared when you saw Chongyun flushed red and his eyes averting from yours.

Worry encapsulated you. “Is your condition acting up?” You asked in a whisper.

Chongyun blinked, puzzled. “What?”

Discreetly taking a gander at the audience completely unaware of your interaction, you slipped your hand under your dress and showed Chongyun was a small ice cream container.

“I brought this with me just in case.”

Chongyun decided he made the best decision of his life to marry you.

He took your hands in his and pressed a small kiss on top of one.

“Thank you, love.”

After the wedding, Chongyun immediately visited the comfort room. You tried to follow him but Xingqiu told you there was nothing to worry about, and he was right.

When he entered the comfort room, Chongyun locked the door behind him and headed straight to the sink to splash some water on his face.

One won’t be able to tell Chongyun was crying from the water streaming down his face.

He looked up at the mirror, staring at his reflection as he let out a small, and content sigh.

“I’m married. I’m married to her.” Chongyun tried to hold back his smile, but he failed. “She’s my . . . wife.”

And did it sound nice to call you his wife.

     XIAO

              It was his duties to Rex Lapis, to the thriving land of Liyue, that kept Xiao grounded and his mind temporarily fleeting away from the karmic debts that weighed on his shoulders. If it had not been for the responsibilities laid down on him, he was sure to have succumb to the consequences of his bloodshed from the past long ago. It was the reason behind his creation, to serve the people of Liyue and protect them from any transgressors or anything that could potentially lead to their destruction, and it was all he knew. His existence was all for Liyue, and to seek out the desires of Rex Lapis and accomplish them no matter how difficult and by what means.

    Day and night he oversees every part of Liyue and hears every call of his name and seeks refuge in Wangshu Inn. It was a cycle that has never changed ever since the gruesome war between gods has taken place in Teyvat, and all was same until that night when he heard a cry for help from a distant place, and rescued a strange maiden from the peril she found herself in.

                          Love at first sight disgusted him the most. He can understand, to some degree, that mortals can fall in love with people they have built a caring and trusting relationship with but falling in love with someone who one has no dust of knowledge of their identity was simply unwise and incomprehensible. And yet there he was, leaping from the precipice of a soaring mountain and securing the mortal in the middle of her fall.

               Xiao had no clue why it felt like time has stopped and they have gently floated in the air as he took a gander at the woman in his arms. Scratches littered her features, and twigs adorned her mop of hair, but she still shone brighter than the stars and moon behind her.

   He did not let her speak to him after he has placed her safely on solid ground and he quickly took his leave without even a glance back.

                          When he had painted the lands of Teyvat red with the other Yakshas, he did not blink an eye or feel a bead of sweat trail on the side of his face. But that woman has caused his chest to flutter, and he always find himself thinking back to the day he had saved her. If he had been like any other mortal which has sleep as a necessity, he would find himself thinking of you every morning and every night, longing for another chance to meet you again. What has she done to him? He already has to carry the burden of his sins, and now he must endure this painful curse she casted on him?

              But it didn’t matter now. She was already long gone, for all he knows, and he doesn’t even know her name.

    Xiao already came to accept that she was merely going to fleet away from his mind, a distant memory that his heart will ache every time he remembers her. He had many regrets in his lifetime, and this leaving her behind without knowing her name is one of them.

                                    But it seems to him that Rex Lapis has taken favor of him and has graced his undeserving existence. Xiao had just exterminated a Hilichurl camp getting increasingly close to Wangshu Inn when his ears preened and his pupils dilated – that voice, the same voice that he never thought he’d hear again, was calling out for him again. He did not find the time to dispose of the monsters in a more appropriate location where they will no longer continue their venture towards the inn, and quickly made his way to where he heard her.

           When he arrived, it did not take long for him to spot her standing perfectly still in front of him, hands behind her back. His eyes dilated as he took in her familiar form. Her tresses were no longer matted with twigs and mud, the scratches that once marred her skin no longer present, and a smile has replaced the cowering fear that adorned her visage before.

                   Xiao ignored the increasing heartbeat that drummed against his chest and surveyed the area with a flick of his spear. “There’s no danger.” He remarked after assessing the parameter, his mask dissipating into the night as he returned his gaze back at her.

       She rubbed her arm as she averted her eyes from him. “I spent months trying to find you again.” The mortal woman murmured. “When all has failed, I thought back to that night you saved me, and I called – and you came.”

                                         Xiao did not speak another word, but he was afraid that you can hear how loud his heart was racing. He needed to ignore his selfishness, he needed to leave. “If you’re not in any danger, then I’ll be leaving.”

  He turned around to do as he said, but his eyes widened when he felt your hand around his wrist.

                “Wait, please,” She pleaded, and when he looked over his shoulder, any resolve of leaving her again vanished. She was looking at him with hopeful and vibrant orbs. How can he ever let her down when she’s looking at him like that?

      Xiao let out a sigh and turned back around to meet her properly, but her hand never left him. Were you afraid he might disappear as quickly as he did like last time?

                                    “Don’t go.”

                   “Why not?” Xiao questioned. “If you know anything about an Adeptus, then you understand my duties.”

              She bit her lip as he withdrew her hold. Xiao missed the warmth she gave him already. “I know that but . . . ” She trailed off. “ . . . can I . . . at least know your name?”

                                                Xiao did not give her an answer.

            “Even if we never meet again, I want to at least know the name of man who saved me.” She mumbled softly. “But I’m afraid if I ever know your name, I’ll never get to think of any other man but you.”

                                                    Xiao appraised you, taking in her apprehensive frame. A mortal has fallen in love with an Adeptus? This was preposterous. He saved her months ago, and back then they shared little time together. Too little to gain feelings for him.

    But still, he found himself relenting to your wishes.

                                     “Xiao,” He answered. “My name is Xiao.”

            Don’t look for another man. I’m here. I’m staying.

                   That’s how he met his first and last love, ( Your Name ).

Xiao has lived in Teyvat for thousands of years and is knowledgeable of the culture of mortals, one of them being marriage. He had witnessed humans bounding themselves to another, promising to cherish them, protect them, to love them. For Xiao, marriage is something far from disgusting. Although he cannot understand the need for them to be together under an oath, it was undeniable that many great things and opportunities birthed from them.

However, no matter how beautiful it is for them, it will never stop perplexing Xiao. How is it that one can look at another and know that they’re the one? Are they not afraid to be betrayed? Are humans so willing to have themselves get hurt and offer forgiveness for the sake of love? It’s confusing for him.

Not until you came along that it made sense. Every argument, every disagreement, sleepless nights, every sincere apology, every countless forgiveness, every embrace, every kiss - is this what mortals feel? If so, he’ll endure all the hardships of love if it means staying by your side, and he knew that you feel the same.

Unfortunately, Xiao is not one for marriage.

Not that he does not love you - oh Archons, because he did, deeply so - but the consequences of your relationship always hang in front of him.

 It’s already a risk to let you in his heart and love someone as sinful as him, but the thought of you bearing his karmic debt terrified him.

What happens if the two of you are bound together, and under a contract that Rex Lapis will surely oversee? Will the demons that torment him sink their teeth on your pure and innocent soul? Will he see the life in your eyes wither as you strive to remain with him? And what if you try to break the contract to escape karma? Will the both of you suffer in karma and the wrath of the rock?

Xiao can’t do that to you. This is one way he can guarantee your safety. It hurts him to know he cannot marry you, and it hurt more when he saw the disappointment and pain in your eyes when he explained himself. But keeping you safe is his top priority. He deserved this punishment, he can’t put it over your shoulders too.

But that didn’t stop Xiao from imagining how your wedding could have been if things we’re a little different.

A small wedding in a place of your choice with only a handful of close friends and families. You’ll wear a gorgeous dress and walk up to where he is with the same smile you wore when he met you for the second time.

As you stand before him, Xiao could only imagine the happiness and contentment he would feel at that time. 

He’ll hold you close, hear you laugh, and then he’ll press his lips against yours, sealing you to a promise that everything that he is, and everything that he has, is yours.

He’ll find himself retreating somewhere private. He didn’t want you to see him vulnerable, weak, as he cried for the first time in his life, and for the greatest reason.

He could have a chance of happiness, but he can’t.

It was all a dream.

A dream he will never achieve, a dream of yours that he can never grant.

“Xiao, you’re still awake?”

The man looked away from the moon and looked over his shoulder to see you standing by the threshold leading to the terrace. You were tired, and yet you woke up to tend to him. 

“You know I don’t need sleep.”

“But you always lie next to me. What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”

Xiao did not respond, and you didn’t push any further. He adored it how you know when to prod to a subject or not. You know him so well.

After a moment of silence, you walked over to him and sat  beside him on the railing. You looked up at the moon, and Xiao slowly placed his head over your shoulder.

He felt at peace.

Xiao closed his eyes, dreaming of a day that will never come when he can marry you without anything holding him back.

     KAZUHA

                        Kazuha can no longer remember how long it has been since he was on the run from the shogunate. The Electro Archon and her subjects are on the hunt for Visions of every single person residing in the walls of Inazuma, and he was one of the few who refused to have their Visions confiscated from them. It seems exiling him from his homeland was no longer sufficient and the said Archon has ordered for every so-called transgressor that they banished to be apprehended and have their Visions forcefully taken from them. It was only his luck that Beidou, and the crew she captained, has taken him under their wing and he has been sailing the seas with them since then.

            Has it been months? Days? Or perhaps weeks? Being away from land with nothing but the ocean to take in and his mind seemingly always preoccupied with his doubts and worries has him losing track of time.

   In all honesty, he doesn’t remember the last time he stepped on dry land. Perhaps they did, but it was not a memory that has fleeted a long time ago. All he can think about was Inazuma, the threat of being having his Vision taken, and his past he buried deep within the back of his mind.

            Beidou must have taken notice of his continuous lackluster attitude and has set sail for Liyue for him to take a break from the seas. This, of course, he appreciated though he insisted Beidou that she did not have to dock just for him to clear his mind.

          Back at that time Beidou claimed she knew what is best for him and she should put his trust on him, and with the lack of reasons to refute her statement, Kazuha merely let out a sigh and agreed to land in Liyue.

                         He has never been to Liyue, or to put it more accurately, he has never stepped foot in in the few times the Crux made their return on Liyue. It wasn’t because he hated it there, but he felt more comfortable and more at home inside the ship. The furthest he has gone was on the docks to help the crew load supplies in their next sail. But now Beidou has encouraged him to leave the ship and explore, and implied being forbidden to come aboard if he refused to do as she says.

       When Beidou said she knows what is best for him, maybe she was right. He must admit, even if he was still longing to return to his homeland, Liyue had many sights and delicacies to offer. But the best and most beautiful sight he saw was up on a rooftop when he was resting from hours of mindless meandering in the streets.

                                                              He played with a green leaf that fluttered over to him after it has been carried away by the wind from its tree, and he pressed his lips against it to whistle a melody. The tune was buried under the bustle of the city night but it seems that one picked it up from the terrace just below him.

                    Kazuha saw a girl around his age walk out to the terrace, head moving left and right, as though looking for something. Kazuha did not think much of this behavior assuming she was searching for something else, and he tore his eyes away from her and nonchalantly continued to whistle against the leaf.

                                           “So, that was you who was making that beautiful sound.”

                Kazuha casted his gaze down to see the girl on the terrace looking up at him as she leaned against the railing with her arms crossed, a gleeful smile present on her brims. He pulled the leaf from his lips as he regarded her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”          

          She shook her head, chuckling. “No, no, it’s fine. You can stay there.” She assured, and Kazuha eased on his spot. She stared at the leaf in his hand. “I didn’t know you can make a tune using a leaf.”

                      Kazuha flashed her a small smile. “It’s something only a few can do. It’s pretty hard to master.”

                     “And you’re one of those few.” She remarked. Silence prevailed between the two until she spoke again. “Can you play something for me?”

      Kazuha was bewildered by her request. It wasn’t common to find a foreigner sitting on the rooftop of her household. One would think that their first reaction should be an accusation of trespassing and a demand for identification, but no. This girl was different, you were different.

                    Kazuha did not question your request, just as you have not questioned him of his place on your rooftop. Instead, he granted your wish. He pressed the leaf against his lips and blew, a tune of his own composition sounding in the air.

      He watched in awe as you raised both your hands to your chest and white particles formed above your palm, creating a shape until it formed and bloomed into an elegant wooden lyre. Without saying anything else, you strum the strings along with his tune, and the people of Liyue beneath their feet are unaware of the small haven the two of them created together.

               Kazuha is more than grateful for Beidou for pushing him to go to Liyue. Ever since that night, he has made constant visits to your house. Early in the morning – that’s when Beidou would barge into the barracks and force them out of their beds – he would always be the one out of the door to finish his tasks and leave immediately to visit you, a prominent smile over his face. The crew, of course, has pestered him to tell him of the reason for his constant leaving and he could only let out a sigh of relief when Beidou shooed them away from him and asked them to return to their work. She winked at him right after and whispered, “Go and hurry to your girlfriend.” To which he denied with a shy grumble before making haste to Liyue.

                               Liyue was brighter than the isolationist Inazuma has become, and one of the reasons Kazuha thought this was you. The Crux was like a family to him, and Beidou was like an older sister to him, but you – he has never felt more soothed than in your presence. You felt like home, and it has been so long since he had felt like he was at home. Seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, seeing how you nod attentively as he talked, your arms embracing him when he opened up to you about his past, the music you played together in perfect harmony even without practice – it was all so surreal.

        Kazuha didn’t have to tell you about his growing feelings for you. He knew that you knew.

  It started with a shy kiss, and then a longer one, and the two of you found solace in each other’s arms. There was no music playing, and there were no stories shared – just him with his arms around your figure and lips connected with yours. None of you dare say it but your days together were slowly coming to an end, and it won’t be long until the day comes when he has to set sail to visit neighboring nations.

                  But Kazuha will always come back to you, that he promises.

After a few years of frequent visiting and writing letters to one another, Kazuha has finally decided that it was time for him to propose to you. Beidou - being the supportive big sister she is to him - upon hearing of his plan, gathered her crew to help Kazuha in his objective. Everything from food, drinks, location (they chose the ship), and atmosphere, they provided. As thanks for their dedication and help, they only ask an invitation to his wedding, to which Kazuha replied will surely come even if they did not help.

The crew claimed that they shall be far away as possible from the ship so that the two of you can have your privacy, but Kazuha, and definitely you, as well, heard loud cheering from a short distance followed by a shushing Beidou when you accepted his proposal.

“I thought they said they’d be at Wanmin Restaurant - ”

“To be honest, I didn’t really believe them.”

Unlike the other boys who were hesitant of not seeing the bride for a week until the wedding, Kazuha was actually the one to push this tradition. He disliked it as much as the other boys, but Kazuha loved being able to give you his all. Not being able to see you for a week is a sure way for him to crave for your presence, and once the two of you see each other again, he’ll pour out every love and care for you then.

You were dismayed by this whole arrangement but since it is important to Kazuha, you respected it.

The crew fought for the spot of best man, but in the end, all of them got to be best man. Kazuha did not have the heart to choose one from the crew, so he had to explain to you beforehand that the almost the entire male crew of The Crux are going to be standing with him at the ceremony.

It wasn’t a common occurrence in a wedding but you allowed it. The crew was like his family to him, and if it’s going to make him happy to have them as his best men, who are you to go against it?

At the day of the wedding, Beidou was the one to fret over Kazuha’s appearance. The Anemo user tried to calm her down but after she continually tried to fix his hair for the wedding, he just sighed and allowed her.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be married in just a few hours.” Beidou remarked in the quiet after a while. “To think you were just a teenager when we met you, and our little teenager is a big man now.”

“Nothing’s going to change. I’ll just be married.” Kazuha tried to ease her worries but he knew as well there are going to be major changes. One of being concerning his frequent endeavors with the crew. Once he gets married with you, he’d want to be with you always, to settle with you. But he was so used to the sea, to be living with the crew in a ship. Can he really get used to this coming change?

Beidou let out a sigh. She placed a hand over his head, patting him gently. She would have ruffled his hair but that would waste her effort on making it as presentable as she can.

“Things are going to change, Kazuha.” Stated Beidou, beaming. “And it’s not all bad. Trust me.”

Kazuha nodded, but he was still uneasy. He was ready to give himself to you, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to leave the crew. 

This thought haunted him even in the time of the ceremony. He should be focusing on the wedding but he couldn’t. 

He needed to talk to you about this. You need to know what’s bothering him.

Was it possible to feel dread for the future while also looking forward to it?

Because it felt like a gust of wind billowed his direction when his eyes landed on you. Beautiful, you’re beautiful. What else can he say? 

Was he really going to marry you? Whatever did you see in him? He was a banished Ronin from Inazuma. There must be some other man more worthy of you.

But you loved him, nobody else.

“Stop gawking at me like that. You’re making me embarrassed.” You murmured, cheeks flushed. He didn’t even notice you standing before him until you spoke.

Kazuha closed his parted lips as he turned away from you. “I . . . uh . . . ” He swallowed. “You look beautiful, ( Your Name ).”

“At least look at me when you say that, Kazu-kun.”

 He looked at you, breathing in before speaking. “You look very, very . . . uh, pretty.”

You laughed a little. “You look very, very handsome, Kazuha.”

You took his hands in yours and gazed into his eyes, smiling. “Things are going to change once we get married.”

A pang of uneasiness struck Kazuha.

But what you said next shocked him.

“After this, I can finally be part of the crew and join you on your adventures in the sea!”

Kazuha gawked at you again, blinking.

Everyone invited to his wedding gasped when Kazuha suddenly kissed you out of nowhere in the middle of the ceremony.

Beidou, and the rest of the crew, however, cheered loudly for the two of you.

After the wedding, Kazuha snuck away from the reception for a while. He found a tree from a short distance and sat on the branch, breathing in the cool evening air.

He caught a fluttering leaf and smiled as he gazed at it and recalled how the two of you met.

Things will change, and soon, he’ll be adventuring with his wife in the vast ocean. Oh, he has so many things to show you.

[daemonprom]

dolly.

Kishibe simps come get y’all juice.

pairing: kishibe (chainsaw man) x reader

warnings: age gap (reader is a college student), mentions of alcohol/tobacco, a lil bit of fluff ig, sugar daddy/baby relationship, degradation,  vibrator, facefucking, overstim, dumbification, breeding, uhh there’s a lot lolll, also needless to say mdni

also this is the first fic I’ve published on this acc so I hope you guys enjoy!! I haven’t found a lot of him but this man is so fine istg haha

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That moment he first laid eyes on you that evening, clad in nothing but a shiny latex white bodysuit, some bunny ears standing tall on your head, and some fishnet stockings that complimented your translucent pleasers, he couldn't stop thinking about you. Countless other girls, dressed identically, passed by his table–serving him drink after drink or feeling up on him teasingly–but your face in the dimmed neon lights never left his mind. God, he wanted you so bad. The older man knew he could capture the attention of any girl he wanted (well, almost any girl) just by looking at them–and he was going to capture yours tonight, without a doubt.

He frequented this club either for a good fuck, a good drink, or both. Call him a pervert, but nothing brought him more joy than seeing scantily dressed girls frolic around him as the scent of alcohol reeked through the air.

"Hey, Doll," his gravelly voice greeted you as you finally passed by his table. He was sitting alone with an empty glass in his left hand, dressed oddly formally in a suit complete with a long black coat. He wasn't the first old guy you've encountered at this club–hell, most of them were straight up weirdos–but he was different. He was probably one of the few customers you'd seen that was actually...kind of attractive. He was a bit rough-looking, with an unkempt beard and tired, aged eyes. But he looked strong, too, both physically and mentally. His piercings on both ears shined in the lights above you, and an unusual stitched scar trailed across his left cheek to the corner of his mouth. You didn't know who he was, but you found yourself intrigued.

"Hello," you said slowly. "Would you like me to get you a refill on that drink?"

" 'S alright, Doll." He let out his hand to the seat in front of him. "Why don't you sit with me? Haven't seen you around here before."

"Do you come here often?" you replied, instantly cringing at such a cliché remark as you lowered yourself at the table.

"Only when I need to" was all he said.

"Well...yes. I am new."

" 'S your name, dear?" You answered, to which he replied with a "Wow, that's beautiful." You looked down bashfully, appreciative of the compliment. "So what's your...you know, day job?"

"I'm inclined to ask the same of you," you responded, eyeing the stitches that adorned his hallowed cheeks like embroidery.

He let out a hearty laugh. "You'll find out soon enough." He lowered his voice as he eyed you. "But if you're interested, it makes a nice amount of money and there's room to share."

You froze. Was he...proposing what you thought he was? You had only been here a few days, and you had already encountered a potential sugar daddy? As a college student, working at the mall just wasn't cutting it, so your friend jokingly suggested you apply here. You didn't think you'd get it because of your rather reserved demeanor, but you heard back from the club almost immediately with an offer.

"Um, I--"

"Aww, you're flustered, dear? That's alright, just thought I'd subtly offer you some assistance. You go to the university a few blocks away, don't you?"

You stared at him, flabbergasted. "How...?"

"What a smart girl. I love smart women, you know."

You said nothing as you felt your face get hot.

"So how's about it? Gonna be mine or not?"

"Well...."

"You won't have to work here anymore. I can tell you just dread it. Drunk old men yelling at you to come over, serve 'em another drink, give 'em favors...." He chuckled. "Of course, I guess you could say I'm another drunk old man asking for favors. I'll leave you be if you just tell me to go."

It was true; who knew how many shots of sake he had downed since he stepped into the building. But unlike the other patrons that entered this club, he appeared calm, collected, and fully cognizant of his surroundings. If it weren't for the scent of the drink stinging your nose, you would've believed he was completely sober. You didn't feel too uncomfortable by his words; if anything, you were simply shocked by his forwardness. If he truly was who he said he was, then what was there to lose?

"Who are you? And what do you do?" you eyed him again with a raised eyebrow.

"You can just call me Kishibe," he answered vaguely. Kishibe. You recited the name like a mantra in your head. It was a common surname, but on him it felt...mysterious. Alluring, even. "And for what I do....dear, let's just say you'll be protected with me around."

"Oh-kayy. Well, Kishibe," you said the name slowly, "perhaps I'll take up your offer."

"I knew you would," he said with a smirk. He rose from his seat, and you followed slowly, confused. "Alright, let's book outta here."

"Um...right now? But my shift isn't over until–"

"Fuck the shift. You're quitting, remember?"

"Oh...right, yeah."

You followed him through the sea of tables and girls as he grasped your hand tightly with unbelievable strength, and not simply for his age. The two of you eventually made it out through the French doors and into the dark parking lot. It was nearly one in the morning, and though it was midsummer, you were absolutely freezing in your skimpy bunny girl outfit. You wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm yourself. Before you could look behind you, you felt cloth fall down on your shoulders kindly. You looked above you to see that the older–and much taller���man had removed his coat and was only wearing the flattering white button-up and tie.

“T-thank you, Mr. Kishibe,” you said softly.

He didn’t look at you, but coldly replied, “Just Kishibe.”

“R-right. Thank you, Kishibe.”

He led you to his car, a modest but still attractive red five-seater.

“Wanna start your new job now?” he asked, stopping in front of the car.

“What do you–“

Before you knew it, you felt his hand grasp firmly on your waist and his lips dive into your neck.

“Agh, Kishibe,” you uttered. His hands lowered to squeeze your rear, and you let out a small gasp.

“ ‘S the problem?” he asked as he lifted up his head.

“We should at least go to the car,” you huffed as he continued.

“Mmm, right,” he muttered. Still focused on your neck, he abruptly lifted you off the ground almost effortlessly with a single arm and walked to his car. You were absolutely shocked at how strong this man was. He opened the passenger seat with one of his hands and set you down as you looked up at him, dumbfounded. He then closed the door and walked to the other side, fastening himself in.

“Um, Ki–“ You opened your mouth to speak, but he pulled out a small object from his left pocket. He flipped the switch and you heard a subtle whirring sound from his hand.

He laughed. “Mmm, Doll, this is gonna be so fun.” His hands traveled gingerly onto your thighs, and you looked up at him and sighed. He gave each one a squeeze and smiled, muttering a “fuck” to himself. You remained silent as he used his strong hands to part your legs, then ripped with ease through your stockings and leotard. He chuckled as he looked up at you. “No panties? Naughty girl.” He took his fingers and messed around with your clit a bit.

“K-Kishibe,” you muttered, trying to resist his firm touch to the best of your ability.

“You’re just making it easier for me,” he laughed, shoving the active vibrator in without warning.

“Gah! Kishibe....”

“You’re not gonna cum, right, Doll? You’re gonna be a good girl on the ride home, right?” he asked, both hands now on the steering wheel.

“Mmmngh....”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, then, let’s get going.”

With that, the two of you headed off. You were honestly an embarrassing sight next to him: a writhing, moaning mess. The drunkard kept his eyes on the road, not saying anything but often smirking to himself as your curses grew louder. At stoplights he would pull out his remote and watch as you adjusted to the abrupt increase in intensity of the vibrations. Other than that, he acted almost as if you weren’t there, or so it appeared to you.

After what felt like an eternity, the two of you arrived at his condominium complex. He stopped in the parking lot, watching you still calling his name and squirming in the seat next to him.

“So, how’d you do?” You knew he was going to be pissed once he removed the device. He quickly removed the vibrator, to which he was welcomed with a flood of your clear fluids. You let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m s-sorry, Kishibe,” you begged. “I really tried not to cum, honest.”

“Bullshit.” He grabbed you by the shoulder and waist and flipped you over in one swoop. Then, lifting his hand, he smacked your soaked slit. You yelped in reply, still apologizing.

“Gah! I’m...h-hah...sorry!”

He ignored you and smacked you again in the same spot, smiling at your reaction. Then he did it again. And again. Then again, until your labia stung the impact.

“You couldn’t even wait till we got home, huh?”

“I–“

“Suck my cock.”

You were shocked once again at the bluntness of his orders, and tried to form some sort of sentence.

“Don’t just sit there. For a smart girl you shouldn’t be this confused.”

“I-I’m...sorry.” You lowered your head towards the seat next to you, grabbing the zipper of his slacks and pulling it down. The tent in his pants poked through his underwear, and you instinctively bit your bottom lip as you eyed it. You used your hand to caress his bulge teasingly, and he let out a low huff in response. You continued to react to the positive reinforcement, before his hand swooped down and slapped your cheek.

“I said to suck it, bitch. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Your face still burned, but you did as told and rolled his underwear down. His cock sprung before you, hitting your cheek. You moved your head back to get a good look at it. Needless to say, he was fucking hung–and once again, not just for his age. The shaft extended far above him, curved at a slight angle with veins protruding across like vines on a sturdy tree stump. Precum dripped at the tip, tinted a dark mauve, and you licked your lips again at the sight.

You dove in, firmly cupping your hands around the base to give his appendage a gentle massage. Then you planted a soft kiss on the head–to which he grinned–before opening your mouth and moving up and down his length. He let out small sighs, praising you for being a "good little cockwhore", and demanding you to "take more" of him. His words encouraged you to work more diligently to please him, and he was absolutely relishing in your efforts.

Then, without warning, you heard a grunt above you as he rammed his cock into the back of your throat. You reflexively gagged in surprise, to which Kishibe simply chuckled in reply.

“Aww, too big for my little Doll? Too bad.”

He grabbed your hair with his fist with those rough hands, yanking your face to make eye contact with him. “Look at me,” he whispered.

Flustered, you tried to obey him as he began to fuck your face mercilessly. You found yourself flinching every time his balls slapped your face with each movement. As he hastened himself, he found it more difficult to suppress his own voice, and you heard the man blissfully groan above you.

"Such a–fuck–pretty little mouth," he huffed. "You're gonna–huhh–gonna taste me real soon, Doll, okay?" You nodded in response, moving with him as he continued to propel into your face even more violently. He pushed, and shoved, and squeezed himself into your needy mouth, and he grinned at your embarrassing gagging sounds below him.

He released himself with a hefty grunt. You looked up at him, mouth full of his cum and eyes full of your tears, as he looked back down at you with the most devious smile on his face. “Mmm, don’t swallow it yet, Doll.”

He hoisted you again with one arm and pulled your naked body onto his lap in the driver's seat. Your chest rested on the steering wheel as you turned around to see the older man unbutton his shirt and throw it towards the backseat. Then, he forcibly pulled you back up until the back of your head sat on his shoulder.

“Mmm, my cute little Dolly’s gonna feel so good on my cock,” he growled, fingers trailing softly across your body. You gasped as he made his way towards your most sensitive parts between your legs. You could feel his breath, hinted with notes of sake and tobacco, tickling your ear as he whispered, “Spread these cute little thighs for Daddy, now.”

You did as told, feeling your hole stretch in response to his length squishing itself inside you. God, it was huge. You huffed as you arched your back onto his cool chest. He had his firm hands grasped on each of your hips, guiding you as you bounced up and down. Meanwhile, he was pushing himself further into your cervix, letting out bass-filled growls above you.

“Hhh, attagirl....You can swallow now....Go a little faster, will ya? Show me how bad you want this cock.”

“Mmngh, y—hah!—yes, sir,” you yelped in response, gulping as you savored his seed traveling down your esophagus. You picked up the pace, tightening your walls around him, rotating your hips as your tits bounced even more erratically.

You heard him laugh as one of his hands found its way to your chest, fingers toying playfully around one of your nipples. Then he lifted his other hand, squeezing it tightly around your neck. Your strained moans struggled to escape you as you tried to keep pace with his deep thrusts.

“That didn’t mean slow down,” he hissed. “I’m not choking you as hard as I can, Doll.”

“ ‘m sorry, sir,” you whined, moving faster.

You continued to ride him as you felt the buildup warm up inside you. You felt that same sensation develop: the same sensation from earlier when he had teased you with his toy, on the verge of cumming again.

“K-Kishibe...” you croaked.

“What—agh—what is it?”

“I’m gonna....I can’t h-hold it,” you told him, still limited by his firm grasp around your vocal chords. “Please l-let me cum, I’m b-begging.”

He just let out another hearty laugh, ignoring your cries while he fucked you even harder.

“P-please, sir....”

And then it happened. Your legs shook around him as your slick poured down his cock and tears rolled down your guilty eyes.

“I’m s-sorry!” you yelled, expecting him to chastise you for disobeying his demands. But he said nothing. Hell, he just pushed himself inside even faster, thrusting with that same focused determination. You cried even more, begging him to slow down, to stop, but the words wouldn’t reach you. You felt yourself growing brain dead, craving nothing but for his giant cock to bury itself deeper within you.

“Y’like that, Dolly? Like me fucking you like this, even though you want me to slow down?” You let out complete gibberish in response. “Or maybe you like it rough? At this rate, I could get you pregnant and you wouldn’t object, couldn’t I?”

“Nmggfsh,” you answered, trembling at his forceful movements.

“Gonna use your words? Or are you just gonna be a dumb slut?”

Your voice cracked and your brain clouded. You could understand him just fine, but you just couldn’t find the words to respond. You continued to let out unintelligible vocalizations as he fucked your hole with more intensity, with more vigor, with more abstractness, more–

"Gah!" The two of you screamed in unison as you felt his warm fluid splash inside your womb and down your thighs. You fell back into his arms as he cradled you against the seat. His sunken eyes looked down at you affectionately.

“You did so good, Dolly,” he said kindly.

Regathering your thoughts and catching your breath, you found the words to tell him, “Thank you, Kishibe.”

He rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand, and you felt his chest rumble as he let out an amiable chuckle.

“Gonna be mine now? Promise to treat you real nice, baby.”

“Mm-hmm,” you cooed.

“We can stay here for awhile, then you can come into my place to stay the night. We can head to your dorm to get your stuff in the morning.”

“That sounds great,” you replied sincerely.

Still warming his cock inside you, the two of you remained in Kishibe's car, closing your eyes to take in the ambient sounds of planes and passing vehicles outside. You weren't fully sure of what you had gotten yourself into, but if it felt like this...well, you guessed that you'd made the right decision.

[tennessoui]

#18 Prompt: Ohio in Pre-Slash,16/17 year old Anakin has had a crush on his Master for awhile but knows/thinks Obi-Wan would never return his feels. He's almost completely given up and is think about maybe finding a substitute outlet. Then Obi-Wan gets amnesia while they are stranded on an uninhibited planet. Their Locator Beacon only giving off a general area. Obi-Wans amnesia leaves out the Code, and that he's Anakins teacher so the Boy calls him Master so he MUST be Obi-Wans pet/slave.

ahh so i could easily see this going dubcon and smutty and if i were better i might have gone that way too but instead i made some pining fluff but i hope you still like it!!

18. Waking Up With Amnesia (Hurt!Obi-Wan, underage!pining!Anakin, misunderstandings)

Anakin does his level best to land the ship gently, he really does. But he can’t work miracles here, and the locals had damaged their hull quite effectively when they had shot at them as they descended from atmo.

Friendly negotiations, yeah right. When Anakin gets his hands on these guys, he’s gonna show them exactly how friendly Anakin can be. But first he has to make the landing. And then he has to make sure his master is okay. Failure on either of these fronts is not an option.

His master had just gotten up to go to the back to grab their identification. They had been talking, seriously for once and without anger or impatience laced through their words--he’d said he was proud to have him as his padawan, that Anakin had grown into a young man anyone would be fortunate to know.

Anakin had turned to watch his master leave, his shields raised high but his eyes stripped bare. He’d be eighteen in two months. Somehow he’d made it through most of his time as a Padawan already. With his impending adulthood comes the realization that he has no more time for words of anger or scorn, not directed to his master at least. In a few years at most, Obi-Wan would be free of him by all Jedi rules and obligations.

Now more than ever he has to convince his master to want to keep him around. It’s a grueling task, made more difficult by how terribly difficult Anakin had been in the last, say, nine years. What with his pod-racing, his temper, his pride, his stubbornness--his huge and achingly obvious hero worship turned crush on the older Jedi.

But he can’t lose Obi-Wan, can’t even stand the idea of his master leaving him. The idea of missions alone while his master cavorts around the galaxy without hm--with another Padawan?--is absolutely intolerable. No. He has to convince the Jedi to want him as more than a Padawan. To want him as a friend, as a partner.

(In his wildest fantasies, as more than that, too.)

But now, as if the Force has heard his thoughts and is punishing him, the ship is crashing and his master has been hurt somewhere behind him but he can’t check without losing control of the vessel completely. He just has to--land--on this wide stretch--of karking sand.

It’s not his best landing, but they’re on the ground at least. The first thing he does is, of course, throw off his own landing protector and rush to Obi-Wan’s side, pulling his body out of the mangled remains of their ship and into the light and heat of outside. His master is unconscious, but he doesn’t seem to be bleeding terribly nor fatally. Now, and only now, he thanks the Force.

That’s when he notices the startling wet and spreading red across his master’s usually pristine robes.

Never mind, he tells the Force, fumbling with Obi-Wan’s belt in a panic. He needs to treat the wound, which means he needs to see it, which means he needs to get these outer robes off, as well as his master’s inner tunic.

“If I’m ever undressing you again, I swear to the Force you better be cognizant,” he mutters to himself as he rips at the fabric of the thin undershirt. “So many layers and not one of them protects you from debris, how is that fair?” He continues as he pushes Obi-Wan to the side far enough so he can see the man’s bare shoulder and the cut itself. It doesn’t look deep, at least, but it is long, spanning at least Anakin’s entire hand.

How much bacta do they have? Is their distress beacon working? Does Anakin want it to be working? Half of him thinks no, because what if the locals show up to finish them off? Half of him thinks yes, because he’d love to get his hands on the creatures responsible for Obi-Wan’s current state now.

It’s a very un-Jedi thought, but Anakin can’t even feel bad for it. He goes back into the wreckage of their ship--and he knows already he’s going to hear about this from the Council, as if anyone else could have done better--and grabs their first aid kit.

There’s bandages and bacta and that’s the important thing, he reminds himself. He’ll fix up the wound and then worry about why Obi-Wan hasn’t woken up yet.

But. Well. There’s not a great way to patch it up. The only thing he can think of is to give Obi-Wan’s form a solid thing to lean his head against while keeping his lower back pressed against the durasteel. It’s an awkward angle, but any other would result in Obi-Wan getting a face full of sand, and Anakin wouldn’t do that to his worst enemy, let alone his master.

Look. There’s no delicate way to put it. He straddles his lap and brings his head so it can rest on his chest as he works.

Of course this is when Obi-Wan begins to stir. Anakin tightens his hold on him and tries to send feelings of relief and calm through the Force. He needs Obi-Wan to not startle away from him until he finishes putting on the bacta. They can be embarrassed about this later. They’ll laugh about this later.

“You’re fine, Master,” Anakin murmurs at what he decides to take as a garbled word of confusion. “I crashed the ship, you can punish me later.”

Anakin can feel Obi-Wan’s signature spike around him, but he’s too intent on his task to figure out what specifically his master is feeling.

“What--” Obi-Wan mumbles, hand coming up to brace his head.

Anakin leans back as he finishes, tapping gently on Obi-Wan’s cheek until the man lifts his eyes to look at him. They’re dazed and confused.

“Master?” Anakin asks.

Obi-Wan’s brow furrows. “Master?”

Now Anakin’s getting very worried. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he demands.

Obi-Wan blinks. “You’re...not holding up any fingers,” he says, words becoming clearer the longer he talks. “I’m sorry

“Master,” he says slowly. “How are you feeling?” “Confused,” Obi-Wan says. “And...worried. And sick. Why are you calling me that?” “Calling you what, Master?”

“That. Master,” Obi-Wan looks sick just saying the word. Anakin scrambles up off his lap and kneels in the sand in front of him.

Panic clogs at his throat, making it even harder to force words out. “This isn’t a funny joke, Master.”

Now Obi-Wan looks distressed. “I’m not joking!” He looks wildly around and then clutches at his head in pain. “I don’t know who you are. Who I am. And I need you to stop calling me master because it’s making me feel sick to my stomach knowing that apparently I’m the kind of person who owns slaves because I know it’s wrong.”

Anakin blinks. It’s a lot to process. “You don’t remember?” is the first thing he says. He wants to say anything or anyone or perhaps the Jedi Order you’ve been a part of since you were a baby, but instead what comes out is, “Me?”

“I don’t remember myself, how am I supposed to remember you? Did you expect me to?”

Anakin stays quiet because well. Yeah. He hadn’t thought anything could really truly make his master forget him. Not time, not distance, not anything. Looking at Obi-Wan looking at him now without any sort of familiarity feels like all of his worst nightmares coming true.

His master glances down at his half-dressed state and then back to Anakin suspiciously.

It’s a harsh expression without the fond exasperation that usually hovers in the back of Obi-Wan’s eyes when he sees Anakin.

“What were you doing?” Obi-Wan asks him. “Why were you...touching me?”

“Nothing!” Anakin yelps, knowing that is the worst response he could have given. “I mean. I was tending to you, Master.”

He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Ah, kark.

“Don’t call me that,” Obi-Wan snaps, looking furious. Anakin wants to explain that he can’t not, that Master is as much as Obi-Wan’s name to him as Padawan is Anakin’s. “You mean to say I’m such a terrible person that I don’t just own a slave but a pleasure slave?”

Anakin thinks he must be blushing to the roots of his hair. “No!” he yells, much louder than he intends. “No, you don’t own me, M--Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan mouths his name as if it’s a new word. Anakin is about to break into hysterical laughter.

“I’m your apprentice,” Anakin forges ahead. “We use Master as a term of respect for our teachers.” He adds, “I was tending to your wound,” just so Obi-Wan doesn’t next think that Anakin was trying to take advantage of him or something. There’s only so many misconceptions he can deal with in one sitting, especially with the amount of panic that’s raging through his brain.

Obi-Wan looks achingly hopeful. Anakin supposes that without the memory of years of emotional suppression training, he’ll be able to see what his master is feeling more easily. He wonders if he could get Obi-Wan to laugh or smile. He’d kill for one unbridled grin from the other man, although there’s nothing joyful about the situation they’re in right now.

“You’re the best man I know, Obi-Wan,” Anakin tells him softly. “I know you don’t remember right now, but I promise you’d never do that to someone. You’re good. And honest and brave and kind and…” he trails off and looks away, crossing his arms over his chest as he’s hit with the reminder of everything he stands to lose if Obi-Wan’s memory loss can’t be undone. “We’ll get this fixed. It’s just temporary. I won’t let it be permanent.” He says the last part fiercely and mostly to himself. “I won’t.”

Obi-Wan smiles, just slightly and reaches out a hand. Perhaps his need to comfort a distressed Anakin is simply instinctive. “I believe you,” he whispers back. “I trust you.”

Anakin beams. And then he thinks of something else. For a second, he wonders about whether or not he should ask the question that’s burning up his mind, but he needs to know now that he’s asked himself. “Ma--Obi-Wan, why did you think that I was. Um. A pleasure slave?”

Obi-Wan’s blush is a thing of wonder. It could single-handedly keep them both warm on Hoth itself.

“Because of how we were positioned when we woke up,” Obi-Wan mumbles, burying his face in his hands. “And because you look like that.” The last part is said from behind his fingers.

Some sort of unfamiliar fire lights itself in Anakin’s stomach. “I look like what?” he prompts, barely daring to breathe.

But this Obi-Wan must not remember why he shouldn’t always be straightforward with the truth, especially to Anakin who he’s said he trusts.

(Obi-Wan trusts him!)

“Beautiful,” Obi-Wan says, so hushed and embarrassed that Anakin almost can’t hear it over the sound of his heart beating.

Inappropriately for their current situation, Anakin wants to crow in victory as the flame inside him grows larger.

Obi-Wan trusts him. At least on some level. Instinctively. And a part of him, stripped of his Jedi code and teachings and lifestyle, thinks that Anakin is beautiful.

He puts a name to the burning in his chest. It’s hope.

[bau-baby]

the ultimate loss. 2/?

aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: While you and Aaron are grieving the loss of Haley, an untimely realization comes up on your part after a night of consolation. Will anything come of it?

word count: 3k

warnings: grief, loss

A/N: Holy cannoli I am so sorry for how long this second installment took me!! Also the ending seems kind of rushed and it’s not the greatest, sorry! Now, onward with the story! 

read part one here

It has only been a few months since Haley’s service, and you have been at a loss. Ever since the time you and Aaron had together on that patio, something changed. Something that you couldn’t really put a finger on. Neither of you addressed it for fear of messing with things you weren’t ready to face. So you both did what you do best: ignore it.

You’ve filled your time with hours on the job, Aaron has been doing the same. You both merely dance around one another, not allowing your colleagues to pinpoint or figure out what happened. And if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t either. Hell, you weren’t sure Aaron knew what was going on, and he is one of the best profilers you have the pleasure of knowing. 

It’s another late night, early morning at Quantico. You’re burning the candle at both ends, losing sleep by the day. You blame it wholly on losing a friend, and sure that was the big, main reason, but you also know it’s a ploy to throw whatever it is that’s happening with you and Aaron out the window for a time.

After-action reports fill your time as the coffee keeps getting brewed and your pen isn’t running out of ink anytime soon. And you always love to think that this is your time away from Aaron, when in reality he’s right up the stairs, hunched over his desk just as you are. You saved your glances for when your hand got cramped or you needed a refill on coffee. What you don’t see was the glances he’d send your way while you were engrossed in the paperwork. 

You normally end up staying late at the office since you have a tendency to take some of the extra files from Aaron as well as the team so they could get home quicker.

You finish up a majority of your reports just before midnight, opting to take the unfinished ones home. You gather your finished files, making the short walk up to Aaron’s office before knocking. You hear him faintly say “It’s open,” and open the door.

“Hey Aaron, just wanted to drop these files off before heading home for the night. If you-” Your words die in your throat as you finally look at Aaron much closer. His eye bags were getting worse, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. “Are the nightmares still happening, Aaron?”

He knows there’s no use in lying, especially to you. He nods as he presses his pointer and middle finger to his temple, trying to alleviate the dull headache that hasn’t left him in so long. It was one of the only constant things in his life, outside of Jack and you.  With the headaches and the nightmares saddled on top of the grief, he hasn’t had true peace in months.

You tentatively take a seat at his desk and wait him out. You know that once he feels like talking, he will. He takes his time, twiddling his pen in between his thumb and pointer finger.

“I miss her. I left her at home with Jack almost every day, I was never there for his appointments or for his big milestones. I forced her to be a single mom when I could have easily just been there. I-” He stops, and you can see his eyes are brimmed with tears. You swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“Aaron, she loved you-” He scoffs, “-No, she really loved you. It tore her to pieces when she left, she just reached a point where she had to put Jack’s needs first. She still cared for you. The call I got the day you were admitted into the hospital told me enough,” You look down at your hands, trying to find the words, “You’re a great dad, Aaron. You do your best and right now that’s all anyone can ask for.” 

Aaron lets out a huff of breath and leans back in his chair. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to lessen the pulsing headache still fully present. You only hope that your words made a difference, and you start to get up to leave.

“Wait. Please don’t go. I- I can’t stand being alone here anymore,” The admission makes your heart swell while simultaneously hurting for the broken man, and you settle back into your seat. Maybe finishing up the rest of your reports in the company of a friend wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-----

The late nights you and Aaron were pulling to keep each other company quickly transitioned to going home early to see Jack, still keeping each other’s grief at bay. Didn’t help that Jack was the sweetest kid on the planet, and one you definitely couldn’t say no to.

There were days where Aaron would just break down away from the watchful eyes of his son. He wanted to remain strong and not worry the young boy, but he knew Jack was hurting too, just as you were. Even if he was vulnerable with you at times, he still kept some walls up and held some feelings to his chest.

And Aaron would never tell you, but some days it was hard to even be in that apartment. The wall has been long since repaired, the bloodstains lifted from the carpet. But that didn’t remove the nightmares that haunted him every time he came home.

He could never forget the acrid smell of Foyet’s breath as he continuously taunted him, the knife driving into his abdomen. He couldn’t forget the fleeting memories that he surrounded himself with, a hopeful yet useless distraction as he was bleeding out on his apartment floor.

He couldn’t forget Foyet’s smile, his laugh that haunted Aaron’s deepest nightmares. 

Foyet’s words would come to him in flashes, always coming back to remind him of everything he lost.

“Do you know how much you have to study the human body to stab yourself repeatedly and not die? I don’t want to brag but I’m somewhat of an expert.”

The humor Foyet found in what he was saying was not ever lost on Aaron.

He always felt the ghost of the knife, cold metal gracing his abdomen that was slowly losing heat due to the blood blossoming around his still body.

“Do you wanna see my scars?”

The image of Foyet’s mangled abdomen was stamped into his brain, a fateful image that spoiled his sleep every night.

“Yours are gonna look just the same.”

And that they did. Aaron hated the scars that riddled his chest, the raised, gnarled skin always a reminder of his failure. He not only failed Haley, but his son that he swore to protect and give a good life. He ripped the life away from both of them. Haley would never see what Jack would become, and Jack would never remember the woman who gave her life to protect him.

No matter how much he trusted you, there was still that wall that held him back from telling you all of this. His rational brain told him that you’d help him work through it, but his trauma-riddled brain told him that he’d end up overwhelming you, even though you both lost the same person, she just had different emotional ties to both of you.

That call that you listened in on while racing to Fairfax was imprinted in your brain. You’d continually tried to tell yourself that you couldn’t change anything that happened, that you couldn’t save Haley. You couldn’t give Jack his mom back, and you couldn’t bring back Aaron’s closest friend. 

You knew it wasn’t right to blame yourself. You knew that Foyet had fooled all of you. That didn’t stop you from taking the blame, forcing yourself to relive the worst moment in your career, just to subject yourself to something you felt you could have prevented.

Jack wouldn’t have any memories of his own mother. You would just plant four years’ worth of stories as he grew up, telling him tales of how strong his mother was, and how she was the best thing that happened to his father.

Maybe these similar trains of thought are what led you to be knocking on Aaron’s door late at night. And maybe, that’s what led him to answer.

“Y/N? It’s so late, what’re you doing here?” The opened door revealed a distraught yet cozy Aaron, floppy hair and eye bags in all.

“Can I, uh, can I come in?” You remain composed, trying to regulate your breathing before you possibly could fly off the handle.

“Yeah, of course. Are you alright?” 

Now isn’t that the question of the hour, Aaron Hotchner? You aren’t really sure what you feel, so instead of answering, you walk over to his couch and sit. 

Aaron trails in behind you, two cups of coffee in his hand. You accept the cup, the ceramic mug already bringing life back into your hands. Aaron sits on the other side of the couch assuming the same position you are: a blank, grief-filled stare aimed at the table in front of you. The only sign of either of you being cognizant is your periodic sniffles. You don’t even realize you’re crying.

“I just miss her, you know?” The sentence comes through a wavered tone, and you hiccup through the tears. 

Aaron’s in a similar state, his red-rimmed eyes giving way to a tear-filled, “I know. I miss her too,”

A watery laugh leaves you, “Y’know, one time when I visited Haley, told me about how you two used to be. Before Jack, before…”

Before the divorce. Before she died.

“-just, before. She even gave me a little insight on your stint as Pirate #4 in Pirates of the Penzance,” A watery smile makes its way onto your face, and you hear Aaron huff out a sad laugh, shaking his head as he does so.

“I swore her to secrecy on that. She liked you, honestly. She loved how you were with Jack, and I can’t say that I don’t either. You being here, for us, is something we’ll always be grateful for. Thank you,” The sentence makes your heart swell, as more tears fall down your face. They’re full of grief, sadness, and a love you don’t catch onto right away, but when you do, you force that back down to whatever depths it came from.

You hear the feet padding across the floor before you see him.

“Y/N? Why are you crying?” Jack asks as he clambers up next to you and into your arms.

“Hey, bud, what’re you doing up? Your dad and I were just talking about your mom, and how much we miss her,” You say, rocking the boy as you hold him.

“I miss my mom too. Do you think we could talk to her?” He asks. You could hear how tired he is, and you look at Aaron.

Go ahead, his look says, and you stand up with Jack still in your arms. You pick up the candle and lighter on the way.

You lay Jack back in his bed, grabbing the picture of Haley off his dresser. You light the candle and hand it to him.

“Hi, momma. Y/N is here, and I miss you. I love you,” You continue to listen to the boy, but you can feel the tears pressing at the back of your eyes again. You can’t imagine what this four-year-old boy is going through, trying to understand why his mom isn’t coming home anymore.

You feel a certain pair of eyes on you from the doorway of Jack’s room, and you see Aaron watching you and Jack. He’s got this soft, sullen smile on his face as he hears Jack recount his days since he’s last talked to Haley. Soon enough, the four-year-old runs out of steam and says goodbye, blowing out the candle. You reach over, tucking the covers up to his chin, and tell him goodnight.

You walk out to see Aaron sitting on the couch again, his elbows resting on his knees, hands covering his face. You sit with him until the early morning light washes over the DC skyline, sunlight peeking into the windows. You both laugh, cry, and sit in silence as you talk about whatever, but the topic keeps coming back to Haley.

“Well, if I want to make it to the building on time, I better go back to my apartment and change,” You say as you get up to grab your shoes that have long since been forgotten, as well as your keys and such. “Oh, I didn’t even notice the time. See you at work,” He says, getting up off the couch too.

“Bye, Aaron. See you at work,” You give him a soft smile, and make your exit.

Aaron doesn’t make light of this, but seeing you leave after the night he spent commiserating with you, made him miss it more than he thought he would. The freshness of it all, the connection you shared with mutual grief, was something he never thought he’d get out of his job.

-----

When you step into the bullpen, you’re the first one there for once. Fresh clothes and a rejuvenated heart puts a small pep in your step, even on no sleep.  After the night of vulnerability you shared with Aaron, you felt refreshed, if only a little tired. 

For the sake of making sure you actually stay awake, you make two cups of coffee. Made one cup just how you like it, leaving the other one black. You set your cup down at your desk, climbing the stairs up to Aaron’s dark office. You turn on his desk lamp, setting the coffee down. You knew he wasn’t too far behind you when coming to the office, it was only a matter of time before he walked out of the elevator. 

When Aaron finally makes it to the bullpen, he sees you already cutting into the reports he left on everyone’s desks the night before. He practically floats to his office, his lack of sleep starting to catch up to him. When he opens the door, he sees the coffee mug at his desk, a sticky note attached to it. Very familiar handwriting fills the note. 

Thought we could both use some coffee after our late night. 

You know where I am if you need anything, old man. 

Sincerely, 

A very concerned friend :)

Aaron just shakes his head at the note, a smile he’s not used to filling his face. He looks through the window out into the bullpen to find you with an equally facetious smile on your face. 

That’s when it all comes crumbling down for you. The realization hits you as you turn back to your work, and you have to slow your breathing so as to not worry anyone else making their way to their desks. 

Fuck. 

You’re in love with your boss. 

You’re in love with Aaron Hotchner. 

You could not have worse timing, you realize. He just lost his wife, you just lost a friend. Neither of you should be open to dating. He isn’t open to dating, and you’d be damned if you were too.

You were never known for your timeliness, but this is a whole other level of bad.

 What are you supposed to do? There’s no handbook, nothing to tell you what you’re supposed to fall in love with your divorced boss who just lost his ex-wife. And there shouldn’t be, you’re being careless. 

It’s normal for people in grief to come together, and after a loss people make strides to fill that gap. That’s all you're doing. You don’t actually feel this way about him. 

That’s what your profiling tells you, but you don’t try to reason with it. No amount of reasoning can fix this. You’re screwed, and you know it.

That’s why you make a vow to yourself- right there in the bullpen. 

You are not going to let this get too far too fast, and you are not going to scare this man away. He is your boss first, friend second, and lover will never make that list if you keep up this fast train of realizations and possible confessions.

You get saved from your rabbit hole as you hear Reid and Morgan walk into the bullpen, talking about whatever those two can talk about at 8 AM. You just shake your head at their antics.

Those two really are like brothers.

Slowly, the rest of the team trickles in, and you’re expected for a day of paperwork when JJ flashes a file at you. Seems like you won’t your day of reprieve, but if you’re honest with yourself, you’re glad.

On top of the Aaron Revelations™, It’s been really hard these past few weeks without Haley. You usually went over to see Jack and her often, talking and laughing over some glasses of wine. Now, you just... don’t have that.

But, all that aside, you have a case.

So you put the pieces of yourself back together, compose yourself, and take a breath.

You can do this.

-----

You can’t do this.

You did fine on the case, and you know that. You remained composed, and kept your head on straight. That doesn’t change your realization, nor does it settle your feelings. Professionalism is at the forefront of your mind as you settle into your seat on the jet. Aaron sits next to you like always, and you school your expression for most of the flight, but that didn’t stop your brain from going faster than light.

You lean your head against the window, and hope against hope that everything- every feeling, every thought- would just leave you. They didn’t, but you welcome the sleep that comes like an unknown force.

When you wake, you smell Aaron’s cologne. You’re groggy, and it takes you a minute to realize that his suit jacket rests across your upper body. 

“You looked cold, just thought I’d help,” Aaron says, not looking up from his file.

That man never stops working.

“Thanks, Hotch,” You say, sleep still laced through your words. You get lost in the moment, the familiarity of it all sinking into your bones. You smile blissfully, sleep consuming your conscious again

You just miss the small smile Aaron gives you after your eyes close, sleep taking your body again.

[axoxtxhxh]

Not Without Trying - Chapter 12

Summary: It’s time to take back Wall Maria.

LevixFem!Reader NSFW

Warnings: Death, sexuality, sadness (which sort of sucks after ch 139)

Word Count: ~ 2,600

A/N: I did change the way this whole thing went down a little bit so just a warning that it’s based on canon, but I did change things.

Also, I am doing my best to get this story completed by the end of the month.

Y/N noticed Erwin’s signal and called over to her privates to stop what they were doing, head back to the top of the wall and wait for further orders. She noticed a lot of soldiers scaling the wall. What in the world? She made her way over to Levi and the others.

“What’s going on?” She looked down at the group tapping the wall with their blades.

“I’m still not—“Levi started before he was interrupted by a man shouting. Everyone looked down.

“Here!” The soldier called just before a piece of the wall came out and a metal blade was thrusted into the soldier’s stomach. Everyone froze as the man holding the blade exited the wall.

“Reiner…” Y/N whispered. Much like everyone else, she was frozen in place, unable to move, she could barely breathe.

Before anyone had time to think, Levi was already halfway down the wall, blades drawn. He drove his sword into Reiner’s neck and quickly forced him to the ground, driving his second blade through his chest. Reiner hit the ground and Levi flew back up to the wall. In a matter of seconds, Reiner transformed into the armored titan.

In the scramble of trying to get things done, Y/N stood there, lost in her thought. Chaos was all around her, but she couldn’t get a grip on herself. Levi stood in front of her and she looked at him, disconcertedly. He was yelling something at her, but she couldn’t hear. He grabbed her shoulders, and shook her, getting close to her face.

“Y/N!... Y/N, you have to listen to me.” He continued yelling until she was fully cognizant. She shook her head and focused on him. “Y/N…”

“Y—yes. I… Yes. I—I’m okay.” She looked at him. “I’m okay.”

“We’re going to the other side, away from the armored titan.” Levi explained. “You need to help guard the horses. Can you do that?” He looked at her, concerned.

“Yes.” She looked back over where Reiner’s titan form was climbing the wall. “I can do it.”

“Hange, Miche and the rest will take care of Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it.” He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “Let’s go.” They both dropped to the other side of the wall, heading towards the horses.

The struggle of keeping the horses safe wasn’t as bad as they thought it would be considering. Most of the titans that were attacking were small ones and easily taken out. Y/N couldn’t shake the thought of Reiner being on the other side of the wall. It’s not that she wanted to see him, but she couldn’t stop thinking of him. Was he thinking of me? She thought to herself, then quickly shook her head. Now was not the time.

Y/N heard a loud roar coming from the other side of the wall. Everyone looked up to see what was happening.

“Was that…” Levi started, talking to himself, “was that the armored titan?”

They all looked up and saw a barrel soaring through the sky, falling down to where the others were.

“Do you think that was Bertoldt?” Y/N landed next to Levi. They both looked back at the wall then at each other.

“I’m not sure.” He replied. “I’m sure he was in that barrel that was thrown, but where was the explosion from his transformation?”

“I hope everyone is okay.” Both Y/N and Levi looked at the wall.

“Either way, we should probably head over there soon.” He looked back at Y/N and noticed rocks flying through the air. “Shit!” He grabbed her and they both lowered themselves on the roof. They looked back to where the rocks were coming from.

“Is he throwing those stones?” She squinted her eyes to see further.

“Incoming projectiles from the front!” They could make out Erwin’s voice. They both looked forward and saw a group of privates farther up.

“Shit!” Levi stood up. “Those guys!” He started flying through to the new recruits up front to warn them and Y/N followed. They quickly grabbed the horses and recruits and ran for cover.

Erwin made his way down and tried to come up with a plan. There was a loud bang near the wall and looking up, wondering what it was.

“It doesn’t matter,” Erwin said, “We don’t have many options. Here is the plan.”

After Erwin explained the plan, immediately tears filled in Y/N’s eyes.

“Y/N.” Levi grabbed her face as she started crying. “No crying, you can do this. I can do this.”

“But Erwin… and you.” She sniffled as tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“No.” He shook his head. “We will be fine. You have a job to do, you can’t be worried about us.”

She nodded her head, sniffling again and wiping her cheek. Levi wiped her other cheek and rested his forehead against hers, kissing her quickly and then running in the direction to take out the beast titan. She watched him until his body slipped behind the houses and she cleared her throat, standing up and heading back to the wall.

Her job was to assist in keeping the privates on the other side of the wall safe. Levi wanted to keep her as far from Reiner as he could, but this was the only option. They weren’t sure if Bertoldt was in that barrel, but Hange was going to need help with the privates on the other side.

She dropped down on the opposite side of the wall just as an explosion went off and she was thrown back against the wall, hitting her head.

“Y/N?” She heard a voice calling her and someone shaking her shoulder. “Y/N?”

She opened her eyes and saw Miche.

“What’s going on?” She sat up quickly and he put his hand on her to lay back down.

“You must have passed out,” he said.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“I’m fine.” He laughed lightly. “Why are you always asking if everyone else is okay? Can you stand up?”

“I think so.” She started to stand. “Don’t rush.”

“No, we should find everyone else.” She groaned as she fully stood up, stretching her back. They saw everyone gathered on a roof not far from them and headed that way, climbing up.

Armin was laying down, his body severely burned and Y/N kneeled down next to him. Levi had the titan injection out before quickly turning to Hange.

“Reiner?” Levi asked, leaning in close to Hange. They all looked for Reiner’s body, but couldn’t find anything.

“Bertoldt’s transformation happened right above him, it was more than likely enough to completely turn Reiner’s body to ashes.” They responded. They were both watching Y/N look over Armin.

In the middle of their talk and preparation of giving Armin the titan injection, Floch climbed the roof carrying Erwin’s body. Erwin was still alive.

Y/N could only sit and stare at his body lying helplessly on the rooftop while the rest of them fought over who was going to get the injection. It was ultimately decided that it would be Armin and no one was taking that decision harder than Levi, Miche, and Hange.

“Erwin.” Y/N whispered. Hange, Miche and Levi were knelt down in front of his body and Y/N joined them, resting her hand on their backs. She had been a section commander for only a short time and her relationship was nothing like theirs was, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hurt by this. Tonight wasn’t going to be an easy night for any of them.

She turned around and watched as the younger privates helped Armin out of the colossal titan’s body. His new titan body. She turned back to Erwin. This isn’t fair.

She did her best to try and look strong, knowing that it should be her job since the others would be struggling. She wanted to make sure they knew that they could rely on her.

Quickly Levi stood up and hopped off the roof. Hange and Y/N watched him as he walked away, both of them understanding him needing time alone.

They had a little while that they would be sitting there. Armin needed rest and there weren’t many of them left to fight off any attack if there should be one. Y/N hopped off the roof to go check on the rest of them.

Levi walked aimlessly through the paths in between the houses. He just needed to clear his mind. He wasn’t sure how far he’d walked at that point, but he couldn’t hear the small noises coming from muffled chattering and was thankful. Silence. Silence is what he needed at that point.

He found a small stool that somehow managed not to be destroyed in their fight against Bertoldt and sat on it, leaning his back against the wall of a house. Sighing to himself as he closed his eyes. His mind going blank.

His eyes shot open when he heard someone cough. He looked down the path to see if one of the soldiers was approaching him. The cough seemed a lot closer than anyone slowly approaching though. He looked around the other way, slightly standing up to lean around the house, checking to see if someone was behind it. There was no one.

Another cough had Levi on edge. He stood up and prepared himself with his gear in his hands. By the time he heard the third cough he could guess that it came from inside the house. He slowly peeked through the door. In the corner of the front room, was Reiner.

Levi’s eyes widened and he charged in, his blades drawn and nearing Reiner’s throat, stopping just before he stabbed through. His hand was shaking, the blade tapping Reiner’s chin as he shook. Another cough.

He wasn’t even sure if Reiner knew he was there. His limbs were missing, eyes completely wrapped in gauze. Levi was fairly sure he wasn’t even conscious. The perfect chance for him to strike. Each time he went to drive the blade through his neck, being sure to hit the spine, he stopped. All he could see was Y/N’s face.

“Fuck!” He threw his blade to the ground, walking around the room.

“I say we get Armin on the wall, we can rest up there, and you guys get to the basement,” Jean suggested to Hange.

“Yes, that could work.” They agreed.

“I’ll help them get up there.” Y/N placed a hand on Hange’s back and went to the rest of them. They all worked to carry Armin and moved whatever gear they had to the wall for safety.

Hange stood in the middle of the road, hands on their hips as they closed their eyes, letting their mind take a break as their face soaked up the bit of sunshine. Erwin, they thought.

“Hange.” They heard a familiar voice calling their name and they opened their eyes to see Levi not far from where they were. He was dragging something behind him. Something much larger than himself.

Hange walked closer, closing the gap between them and realizing quickly what Levi was dragging and their eyes widened.

“I found him in a house not far down from here,” he explained. Hange turned around, looking for where Y/N was, hoping she didn’t see. “I couldn’t kill him because of her.”

“You’re a good friend, Levi.” Hange put their hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll see about that.” He took a deep breath.

…..

Since returning back to HQ, nearly everyone retired to their room. Everyone except Levi, he went to Y/N’s room and they both laid in bed. Both of them confused. Erwin was gone. Armin was now the colossal titan. Reiner was still alive and in their jail cell. It was a lot to cope with even without discovering Eren’s father’s journals.

Both Y/N and Levi were lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling. She turned over, wrapping one hand around his neck and one around his waist, pulling him into her. Not really sure if he needed or wanted it, but knowing that she did.

“Do you mind if we stay like this? I—I just want to be held a little longer.” Levi pushed his head into her chest and pulled her closer by her waist.

“O—Okay.” She pulled him even closer. It wasn’t like Levi to ever talk like this. She knew something was wrong so she held him. This was never a request he’s made before. Yeah, there have been times that she knew he needed her, but he never directly said anything. They were all still coping with the loss of commander Erwin. Everyone coping in their own way.

His breathing got faster and shallow and he would clutch her hip firmly. Then it would slow down and he would take deeper breaths, releasing his grip. This continued for a couple minutes. Finally, he pulled away enough to look up at her. His eyes looked dark and full of pain. He studied her face, bringing his hand to her cheek.

“Levi…” She started. He moved his thumb to her lips, softly touching her bottom lip. He licked his lips and brought his face to hers, kissing her lightly. She knew this wasn’t what he really wanted, but he wanted a distraction from everything he was feeling and this was the easiest thing.

He started moving his lips more and she did the same. He pulled her face even closer and climbed on top of her. Her hands sat at his waist as he sat up and pulled off his shirt, leaning back down to connect their lips again. He started unbuttoning her shirt. He got about halfway before he moved his lips to her neck and his hands to her sides, caressing her waist and breasts.

Suddenly, he was grabbing wildly and roughly, forcing a hungry desire that wasn’t there. Then just as abruptly, he stopped, his hands freezing where they were.

“Fuck…” He whispered. His hands started shaking. “Shit…” He backed up and sat on the bed next to her, looking down. She sat up, studying at him.

“Levi…” She put her hand on his leg and he looked up at her. His eyes were full of tears and he was fighting a pout. His lips trembling, trying so hard to hold his composure.

“Y/N…” His breath was shaky as breathed out. He tightly held her arm as the tears started rolling down his cheeks, his eyes begging her to help him, to do anything to stop him from the aching he felt. She pulled him into her arms. She held onto him as he sobbed into her, his hand squeezing a fistful of her shirt. She rested her cheek on the top of his head and rubbed his back.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. There was nothing she could say. They were all heartbroken over Erwin’s death, but Levi took it the hardest. Erwin was more to him than just a commander and she knew that.

“I’m sorry, I…” Levi sat up and looked at her. “I’m sure you’re feeling things too. I don’t mean to force this on you.”

“You’re not forcing anything.” She wiped his cheek.

“Are you going to be okay being in the room for questioning tomorrow?” He asked, wiping his nose.

“I think so.” If she was being honest with herself, she had no idea if she would be okay, but thinking about it now wasn’t going to help her be more or less okay.

“Maybe we should sleep,” he suggested, “it’s probably going to be a long day.”

They both laid down facing each other.

“Levi?”

“Yes.”

“Is everything going to be okay?”

“I hope so.”

Taglist: @levisbebe @nefelimalfoy​

[petri808]

N4+Inukag Ex’s Still in Love @liz8080 its angst 🙃

It had been a year since the break up, but Inuyasha was no closer to moving on and according to his best friend, neither was Kagome. He only knew what his ex was going through because their best friends were caught in the middle and providing updates. Poor Miroku and Sango, Inuyasha was sure they thought he and Kagome were idiots by this point.

Not that it was from a lack of trying, because they both were trying... maybe a little too hard to start dating again. Inuyasha had tried the typical avenues like bar hopping and even posting a profile on dating sites. But if irony wasn’t such a bitch, every single site he tried would match him to none other than Kagome Higurashi. It was fate, Miroku would coax the idea onto his friend. Yeah, well fate didn’t have to deal with reality and they were two stubborn fools unwilling to relent.

At the bars, Inuyasha’s handsome hanyo looks gained a lot of attention and the night would always start off right. Every single woman in the place took a chance to talk to him. If he liked what he saw, he’d give them a shot to butter him up, lulling them in with his molten amber eyes. Flirty conversations and flowing alcohol made for... women making excuses and leaving him to walk out single. Every. Damn. Time. Because something always sparked his ex’s introduction to the conversation. It turned out once Inuyasha was past the tipsy stage, all he wanted to do was talk about Kagome. Good or bad. It didn’t matter and according to Miroku during one very drunken evening, he’d even cried. If it wasn’t for the blackmail video, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Okay fine! So he still loved the woman! They’d been together for seven years, that’s not something you just get over quickly! She wanted kids and he was hesitant... it wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes. That’s when Kagome broke up with him.

Inuyasha swirled the drink in his hand with a low growl. “You know our world isn’t always safe,” he admonished his co-worker, a fellow Yokai named Kouga. “And she’s human, the child could be born human, and what if I can’t protect them both?”

“Stupid,” the Wolf yokai sneered back. “You’d lose the woman you love over fear? The Taisho’s son showing weakness, that’s pathetic.”

“Bite your tongue wolf. It’s not just about fear and you know it.”

“Yes, it is.” Kouga countered. “Modern times or not, that woman has spiritual blood coursing through her veins, so an offspring will most likely be a full hanyo. I suspect Kagome senses this, so it is your own fears that’s overruling you.”

“Tch, I didn’t come here for a lecture!” Inuyasha stood up from his bar stool. But as he turned to leave, his phone rang.

It was Miroku. “Something happened Inuyasha. Kagome was attacked on her way home by a yokai. No one knows who. She’s been taken to Shinkon Medical and she’s... in a coma.”

“What?!”

“It’s really bad, you should get here as soon as possible.”

Inuyasha doesn’t respond and quickly rushed out of the bar with Kouga hot on his heels.

“What’s going on?!” Kouga questioned.

“Something attacked Kagome.”

“Oh, fuck.” Kouga could see Inuyasha’s demon side manifesting, purple stripes along his cheeks and red eyes replacing gold. It must be serious.

When they arrived at the hospital, Miroku took them up to the room Kagome was in. Not that Inuyasha needed his help to track the woman’s scent, but thanks to Kouga’s steadfast hand in his shoulder, he stayed cognizant enough to follow quietly so as to not scare the staff. Sango stood just outside of the door ready for their arrival.

“Brace yourself Inu,” the woman warned, “she’s... it’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

He simply nodded shakily and walked through, leaving his friends to wait. There really was no way to brace himself for what he saw. Kagome was almost unrecognizable. She had tubes and wires hooked up to beeping machines that flashed her life on a screen. It was an unnerving sound in an otherwise deadly silent room. Her arms were all bandaged up, one leg in a cast with pins and metal sticking out, but her head... his fists clenched tighter. Her forehead was wrapped in gauze, face bruised and swollen, her nose and mouth with tubes coming out of them to keep her alive. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the blood, smelled the dried blood stuck in her hair.

It was his nightmares turned reality.

That’s when he smelt it, the lingering stench of a familiar panther yokai left on Kagome’s body. Had this been a targeted attack? Anger surged to the forefront. Inuyasha leaned down and took her hand gently while placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Regardless of reason, this yokai would pay dearly!

Inuyasha growled and sped off faster then any of his stunned friends could stop him, out of the hospital. Kouga called from behind in pursuit, but his demon side had taken over and nothing could stop him. He leapt over buildings, speeding through alleyways before humans could even register what had passed them by. There was no way to know exactly where the rogue could be, but he had a territory to start in.

The panther yokai had always hated the inu’s reign over the central part of Japan. They fought and lost an epic battle during the edo period, forever retaining a grudge. But this was a brazen attack, the first since those long ago days, and on a human?! It was unforgivable. It was because of the inu’s control that the human world was safe from the yokai inhabiting it. Most of the other’s, like Kouga’s wolf clan fell in line without any problems, and peace remained. Oh, this panther will pay dearly for trying to kill the chosen mate of the Inu no Taisho’s son!! This wasn’t the first time the two men will clash, but it will be the last.

From a rooftop, Inuyasha perched as he quickly scanned the dock area. The yokai was alone. Perfect. With a deep roar, he dropped down on top of the male before it could take off. Claws and fangs unhinged as the two males battled. Despite being a hanyo, Inuyasha’s blood was no different than a full-blooded yokai, and worse, his adrenaline and anger was without remorse due to the bloodied images of his girl lying in a hospital bed to fuel his rage. If there were any humans in this desolate part of town at night, it must have sounded like the unholy blood bath it was.

Over and over, Inuyasha tore his claws and teeth into the panther yokai’s flesh. Though he sustained some injuries of his own, Inuyasha felt nothing but the pure hatred coursing through his veins. Kouga had finally arrived as well, his screams to his friend to stop, deaf in his ears. His blood lust had taken control.

“Stop!!” Kouga roared and jumped onto Inuyasha’s back. He hooked his arms around both of his friends shoulders, lifting, and wrapping his hands behind the man’s head to restrain them from moving freely. Inuyasha thrashed hard against the hold, but Kouga refused to let go, continuously growling at the man to stop resisting. “You’re gonna kill him!”

“He deserves it!” Inuyasha countered.

“Agreed! But that’s not for you to decide my friend, so stop! He’s done!”

“Let me go Kouga!”

“Only if you’ll stop resisting. Think about Kagome, idiot! I’ll take the panther to your father for punishment, you need to get back to her!”

At hearing Kagome’s name, the human side of Inuyasha began taking back control from his inner demon. Kouga was right. If they were caught like this by authorities, being thrown in jail for murder would do her no good. Inuyasha let out a long exhale as his body slowly transformed back to normal, and he slumped in his friends arms. “You’re right.”

“I know I am, idiot.” Kouga let him go. “Now get out of here, and make sure you clean up! You don’t wanna scare the hospital people to death!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the hanyo growled, though he appreciated his friends help. “Tell my dad what’s going on and I’ll contact him as soon as I can.”

“Will do.”

It didn’t take him long to get back to his own house to clean up, and it was only then did Inuyasha realize just how far he’d gone that night. What little of his clothes was left undamaged was soaked in the blood of the panther yokai. He threw it all away and showered the filth from his body, then bandaged his wounds as best he could. By morning they’ll probably be healed, but with the adrenaline gone, the pain had also kicked in. He’d still do it all again in a heartbeat.

When he shambled back to the hospital, of course Miroku and Sango were concerned with his appearance. He assuaged their worries before flopping painfully into a chair at Kagome’s bedside.

“The doctors say she has stabled,” Sango explained now that he had time to listen. “But the shock has left her in a coma, so now we can only wait for her to wake up...” the woman paused, “there’s a small chance, Kagome may never wake up.”

Inuyasha shook his head refusing to entertain such a suggestion. “She’s strong, I know she will,” he spoke even though inside he wasn’t so sure. He just needed to hear those words of reassurance.

“You’re right.” Sango agreed. “We think so too.”

“Hang in there.” Miroku patted the hanyo’s shoulder. “We’ll be back in the morning to check on you.”

“Thanks,” Inuyasha nodded weakly.

Now that he was there, the couple left him alone, safe in the knowledge that no one would bother Kagome anymore. So, at the sound of the door closing behind him, the full weight of emotions engulfed Inuyasha. The guilt tore away at what little sanity held him together. He blamed himself for her state. If he hadn’t been so stupid and stubborn to leave her alone, that panther would never have dared to strike at Kagome. She was strong, but couldn’t have fended off a surprise attack by herself.

“I’m so sorry,” the tears broke free as he held her hand tightly in his own. “Please don’t leave me, Kagome. I’ll do anything! You want kids? I’ll give you all the pups you desire, just please come back to me. I can’t— I can’t lose you. It shouldn’t have taken something like this to make me realize that I’m nothing without you.”

Inuyasha thought the pain of losing his mother at a young age was hard, but this was a thousand times worse. His soul was bonded to Kagome by choice and his heart felt shattered at the thought of never hearing her voice again. If she died, a piece of him would die along with her.

Night turned to day, and days passed by with little to no change in Kagome’s condition. Inuyasha rarely left her side, except to take care of bodily functions or shower at the behest of friends and staff. Her family, his family, and their friends visited, but at night it was just her and him alone between the stale white walls of the hospital room. For two weeks, Inuyasha didn’t get a full night sleep. Exhaustion forced him to pass out at times, only to be awaken by nightmares. To suffer along side Kagome was his penitence as far he believed.

He clung to the smallest of improvements. By week three, all the bruising and abrasions were healing well, and Kagome was taken off of the breathing tubes since she was doing it on her own. She was still fed intravenously with a high protein diet to give her body the fuel it needed to mend. To pass the time, Inuyasha would talk to her about everything and nothing, sometimes telling her stories of ancient tales, or just reading the newspaper aloud. The doctors had told him coma patients can sometimes hear them talking, so it was worth a shot.

“It’s crazy right?” Inuyasha chuckled if only to keep his sanity intact. “I’d give anything to hear you yell at me right now.” He sighed. “Just call me an idiot, because I deserve it.”

“You’re not... an idiot.”

Inuyasha sat up stunned at the beautiful sound of Kagome voice. It was soft and raspy, but music to his ears nonetheless. He squeezed her hand. “Yes, I am,” he smiled. “But it’s okay, as long as I still have you— if you’ll still have... me? I’ll give you what ever you want, Kagome. Kids, anything, just please stay with me. I love you too much to let you go again.”

This time it was Kagome who squeezed his hand weakly. “I love you too, you big idiot.”

Inuyasha leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Now there’s the woman I fell in love with.” Everything was gonna be just fine...

The banner is for my AO3

[hournites]

A huge part of me thinks that Pat & Barbara just need to adopt Yolanda, Rick, & Beth already. Their parents/guardians are awful!! Yolanda’s are self-righteous, abusive, zealots. Rick’s uncle is a deadbeat abusive drunk. And Beth’s parents barely talk or see her (I don’t even think they care about her at all). I mean, Pat & Barbara have their faults (looking at how Mike is treated), but they’re still the best & most caring adults/parents in Blue Valley. I know they couldn’t just legally adopt the kids, but at least offer them a place to stay once they’re old enough to get away from their current crappy home lives!

Look I'm about to have some hot takes but I think people need to hear it:

I disagree. On the adoption stance. I know you say you know they can't legally adopt but let's just walk through what that suggests for a moment.

While I do agree and have said before that Rick should be given the grace to crash at Pat's place and that Pat should investigate what's going on at Rick's house to get him in a better living environment, I don't think Pat adopting Rick and Yolanda (and certainly not Beth) is what is needed or best for them.

I can't deny the fact that I wish Pat had picked Rick up much sooner, or had known about his existence to take Rick out of his situation. I wish that so much I started a whole AU concept with that idea, but it's just not viable at this time in this timeline and with all that's been said and done.

Yolanda is in a really tough situation and I am horrified by her parents (she asked forgiveness from them and they rejected it. That's awful), but she does seem to have a bond with her brother and grandmother and to tear her away from that could be worse. Her best course of action is to push through until she's 18. You think Yolanda's parents are just going to let a stranger adopt their child? The reason why they are so ashamed of her is because they so strongly feel the kinship to her. It's a terrible place to be at but Pat doesn't have any business adopting Yolanda here. Offering her the support she needs right now is where that's at.

With Beth ... First of all, Beth has parents of her own and to just say that she should forget her parents and be legally adopted by another man doesn't 1. work that way and 2. doesn't solve her issues. Beth's parents DO care about Beth. You don't call in and have lunch with your child every day if you don't care about her. They DID that. They just are growing out of that phase and this adjustment is taking a real sour turn. They need to discuss and talk to Beth about her isolation and loneliness and how that's actually been enabled by them. Beth's father said they love her. They do love her. They just are disengaged with her emotive pain at this stage of her life (which is a parenting problem that needs to be addressed) but it is not severe enough to suggest they deserve the right to have their child taken away????

Last point is that and you've mentioned it. Pat and Barbara do provide the teens a safe environment to be when they're not at home just via the JSA function. They invited them over for Christmas and they let them crash at their property late into the night...This does show they are making an effort to reach out and help them. They don't have an extra bedroom, they had to make Sir Justin sleep on the couch and when Jennie showed up they had Courtney on that couch too. They can't just tell Rick and Yolanda "hey drive 4 hours up north you two minors should live alone in our cabin" so as far as things are. They are trying. And that Mike concern is a legitimate concern. Pat is not cognizant to his treatment of Mike right now.

The last thing Mike needs is to see Pat bring in 3 other kids into his house when all he wants is attention from his own father. Mike is being bullied and feels so lonely a dimensional entity pointed it out and related to it. That needs to be fixed before Pat and Barbara open themselves up to become foster or adoptive parents. They need to focus on Mike, the kid who may literally end up going down a villain route over this exact issue.

[super-secret-sick-fics]

hii i requested the last fic and i loved it very much! excited for pt 2 :D

OH and it wasn’t even out of character it felt like exactly how they would react! you write suna especially well aquarius twins

Thank you!! I’m so glad you liked it :) Here’s part 2!! I didn’t proofread this at all, so I apologize for any mistakes. 

I tried to make it so that they could each be read independently. Also I am bad at endings sorry lmao. 

Sick & Delirious: A SunaOsa fic (part 2 of Sick at School)

Pair: Sick Suna, Caretaker Osamu

Word Count: 3,028

Warnings: Vomit, panic attack, swearing & fluff 

Part 1 Here 

___________________________

“Rintaro, you poor, poor baby!” Osamu’s mother cried as soon as she showed up to the front office of the school.

Shortly after the nurse agreed to let Osamu go home too, Suna and Osamu were escorted (slowly and with a small bin in hand) to the front to await Miya-san. They sat down and Suna almost immediately curled into Osamu’s warmth. If he wasn’t so sick, he’d be utterly embarrassed at how clingy he was being. Their hands had been joined since they left the classroom and Suna squeezed Osamu’s every time a cramp rolled through his body.

Now Miya-san was there, her hands immediately cupping Suna’s face and brushing back his hair.

“Geez, Ma. Give him some space. Bet ya won’t be that nice to me and I know you’re not being that nice to Tsumu,” Osamu scoffed.

“Well of course not,” she deadpanned, “yer both idiots. Rintaro is much nicer to your poor mother than her ungrateful children.” Osamu scoffed again.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay with you, Miya-san,” Suna interjected, undeterred by the Miya’s usual show. She looked over at him again and smiled gently.

“Of course. I’ve spoken with yer ma and she’ll bring over some clothes for ya when she’s off work. Now let’s go boys.”

***

“Shit, Rin,” Osamu woke up from his nap when Suna started heaving beside him. He sat up and rubbed Suna’s back as he leaned over the bed and threw up in the bin beside it. The crinkling plastic and splattering sounds reverberated painfully in Suna’s ears.

“S-sorry,” he spluttered.

“Don’t be,” Osamu whispered.

This was the third time in the last two hours that Suna and Osamu were awoken by Suna’s stomach. When they got back to the Miya’s house, Suna was directed to the guest room. Osamu leant him some clothes so he could change out of his uniform and brought him some water, crackers, and a bin. When he was getting ready to leave, Suna grabbed his wrist and asked him to stay. He wasn’t good at being sick and felt much better knowing Osamu was around to help.

When the fit let up, he rolled back into bed and wrapped his arms around Osamu’s stomach. He was shaking again, but this time it wasn’t because of the fever.

Honestly, he wanted to cry. He was so exhausted and his stomach ached so badly. His migraine was relentless. His body didn’t know whether it was cold or hot and all he wanted was to sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time.

It didn’t help that Atsumu had set up camp for himself in the bathroom that was shared between the twins’ room and the guest room. He said that he didn’t mind the sleeping on the floor as long as it meant he could flush the vomit away immediately, instead of having it sit mocking him in the bin beside his bed.

The two of them seemed to be on opposite cycles. Every time Suna thought he could get some sleep, he could hear Atsumu start puking in the bathroom. Then every time Atsumu had quieted down for a bit, Suna’s stomach attacked him. He felt bad, knowing that Atsumu felt just as bad as he did and had to deal with the same things. Never in his life did he think that he would ever feel bad for stupid Atsumu. His fever must be pretty high.

“Rin,” Osamu sighed. Whenever they were both awake, Osamu’s hands were on Suna’s body somewhere, comforting him with little touches and gentle pats. Suna’s favorite thing was when one of his hands was in his hair, the other moving, ghosting his fingers up and down his back. Right now, one of his hands propped him up in the bed and the other was lying dormant on Suna’s head.

“Rin, are ya crying?”

Suna nodded. Osamu sighed again.

Slowly and carefully, as to not jostle Suna’s stomach he was sure, Osamu wiggled himself into lying down and repositioned Suna so he was laying on Osamu’s chest. Then he started ghosting his fingers up and down Suna’s back and caressing the back of his head. Suna wondered if Osamu knew that was his favorite.

“I’m sorry, Rin. I wish I could help ya,” he soothed and something inside Suna squeezed. He whimpered pathetically and curled further into Osamu’s chest.

With that, the dam broke loose. Hot tears started soaking Osamu’s shirt as Suna sobbed quietly.

“I-I don’t f-feel good,” he cried. His throat hurt, from the bile or being ill in general he wasn’t sure.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” Osamu comforted. If Suna were more cognizant, he probably would’ve blushed at the pet name.

He was sure that he liked Osamu and that Osamu liked him back, but they had never addressed it. They were both content to let things happened naturally, not minding the little more-than-friend’s touches here and there or the less-than-platonic-flirting they did at practice and in class. Being in this situation though and having Osamu being the one to take care of him really solidified how Suna felt.

Osamu let him cry for a while before Suna started hiccuping dangerously again.

“Rintaro, yer gonna make yer self sick again,” he exhaled. As if on cue, Suna gagged.

“N-no,” he moaned. Osamu sat up, taking Suna with him and reached down to pick up the bin beside the bed.

“Ya gotta let it happen, babe.” He put the bin on Suna’s lap. Suna glared at it half-heartedly before he felt his chest tighten uncomfortably and a gag forced its way out.

“How is there even anything left?” Osamu lamented. Suna answered with a painful heave. He also wondered the same thing.

Suna’s stomach felt hollow and yet nausea continued to plague him. The room spun as he heaved. His throat was scraped raw. At this point, he was barely aware of Osamu’s presence behind him. Through the fog, he knew he was there though, and that was reassuring enough.

A gurgle came from his stomach and he moaned. Within a few seconds, a wet, crackling, burp brought up the blue sports drink Osamu gave him to try and keep him hydrated. A few more painful heaves brought up more blue tinted vomit before his stomach seemed to allow him a break.

He collapsed into Osamu’s side, panting.

“My poor Rin,” Osamu cooed, but it was muffled, like he was talking to Suna through a pillow. He pulled Suna into his side and kissed the top of his head. The movements were happening in slow motion though, and Suna was, for the second time that day, thoroughly confused.

“‘Samu?” He tried, but his tongue was heavy in his mouth and he wasn’t sure that he made any sound.

“Yeah?” Osamu asked, rubbing up and down Suna’s arm. And wow….no. He didn’t like that. It set all of his nerves on edge. He tried to squirm away from the unwanted touch.

“Rin?”

Suddenly, everything was Too Much. He pushed on whatever was wrapped around him. The soft fabric beneath his hand itched painfully.

“Rin? What’s wrong?” A loud voice boomed in his ears and he flinched away.

“Le’ go...” he gasped, his chest felt like it was on fire. He weakly pushed again. Whatever was encasing him did not budge. His eyes burned and his surroundings swirled alarmingly.

“N-no,” he choked on something hot and sticky.

Then he was released from the bindings holding him and he felt the world tilt forward for just a second. His chest landed on something and it stopped. He was forced upright, and his field of vision changed. A blurry figure appeared in front of him. Maybe a person?

Something captured his face on either side and his eyes blew wide. Cold. No. Scratchy? No.

“Rinta...he...loo..me...whas…ong?” The voice exploded through his brain again and he whimpered. What was happening? Why was he so hot. It was so hot.

“Ho-t…”

Why was he alone? Wasn’t someone helping him before? Where did that person go? He needed help.

“Shit,” a voice cut through his haze. Osamu?

“It’s….I’ve go….”

Too quickly, he was moving. Whatever caged him before was back around him and he tried in vain to break free.

“‘Samu?” A new voice. He whined.

“Move,” too loud too loud too loud. He was released from the bindings again for just a second before being captured again. This time they were hot. And wet. And they torched his skin. He wriggled in yet another futile attempt to get free. What was that roaring sound?

“Whas...on?” The new voice again. Closer. It hurt his head.

“Hi….feve...high…”

Suna was in a new space. Things were different around him now and the sudden change made him dizzy. He coughed and then his mouth was full. He dropped his jaw heavily and his mouth was empty again.

“Fuck!” A screech and he moaned in response.

He was moving again and then his entire body was being pricked with icicles. It put his surroundings a little more in focus.

“Cold!” He shrieked. He tried to get away from the ice, but was held down.

“Tsumu….sorr...ease..” Another force held him down. It wasn’t as strong, but Suna couldn’t get away from it.

“No no no no…” he repeated, his entire face felt heavy. Was that possible? He writhed in pain. It hurt it hurt he wanted out.

“I’m sorry, Rintaro, I’m sorry,” the first voice shook. It was clearer now. It still pounded in his skull.

“Please please please please,” he said and it hurt his throat.

“Rin, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It was Osamu. He thrashed harder.

“I’m sorry, Samu, I can’t—“ oh that was Atsumu. One of the heavy things holding him down was gone. He fought against the last one. He almost won. It was gone for a second before there was a splash and something behind him grabbed him around his waist and held him down.

“No please it hurts please.” He begged. Someone was crying.

“Rin, it’s okay. Please calm down.” Osamu was behind him now. Behind him. Oh he must be what’s holding him down. Okay okay. That was fine. But why was he torturing him like this?

“Samu no…��� he tried to push away. He was really really tired though.

“Yeah, Rin it’s me. I’m trying to help. Please let me,” Osamu said. But his voice was wrong. It was shaking and tight. Was he upset? He was trying to help? Okay okay. He trusted Osamu. He relaxed into Osamu’s hold. It got tighter.

Suna wasn’t sure how much time went by. He tried really hard to trust Osamu, even though the ice prickled and burned at his skin. Eventually, the pain lessened.

There was a soft whimpering sound and he couldn’t figure out who it was for a while. Then he realized it was him. Next, he felt the tears on his face and his entire body shivering.

Slowly, his environment came into focus. He was in the bathroom, more specifically a bathtub.

Finally, the fog in his brain cleared and he put two and two together. Osamu put him in a cold bath to bring his fever down.

“Osamu,” he said through chattering teeth.

“I’m sorry, Rin, I’m sorry,” Osamu said. His face was buried in Suna’s shoulder, but even still, he could tell hear his voice shaking from the cold. More than that, he sounded desperate. Almost defeated.

Suna hated it. He brought a hand up behind him and placed it on Osamu’s head, letting his own collapse back onto his friend’s shoulder. Osamu stiffened before whipping his head up.

“Rin?” He choked and Suna nodded lethargically.

“Can we please get out?” he whispered. Osamu nodded quickly. He got out and wrapped himself in a towel before helping Suna up. It was then that he realized he was still wearing his clothes. They clung to him and he grimaced at the feel. Osamu enveloped Suna in a fluffy towel and hugged him tightly.

Suna relished in the warmth for a second.

“C’mon, let’s getcha outta these wet clothes,” Osamu murmured and let Suna go. He lead him back to the guest room and sat him down in the desk chair. Suna’s teeth chattered noisily.

Osamu left, only to return a minute later with new clothes.

“Do ya need help?” he asked. Still unnaturally soft. It was starting to unnerve Suna. He nodded in response.

A little while later, Suna and Osamu were both sitting on the bed, dressed in dry clothes. Osamu sat in front of him, rubbing a towel over his hair, trying to get as much of it dry as he could. He was quiet. Suna was content to let things settle before he asked what was wrong. He knew Osamu would either talk to him when he was ready or if Suna pried a little.

His hands stopped moving and Suna was about to ask if he could lay down when Osamu bent forward and buried his face in Suna’s neck again.

Suna was a little lost, but put a hand on Osamu’s still damp hair anyway.

“Still too warm,” Osamu mumbled. He nuzzled his face into Suna’s shoulder. He was starting to get really worried and really agitated at Osamu’s weird behavior.

“Samu,” he demanded softly, “what’s the deal?” Osamu tensed in his hold then he sat up so abruptly it made Suna a little woozy. When the vertigo passed, he was face to face with a furious Osamu.

“What’s the deal?” Osamu seethed. Suna looked at him with wide eyes.

“Rin, you were gone!” Osamu shouted, making Suna’s head pound. Osamu stood up ferociously and started pacing the room. Suna wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

“Osamu, please I don’t feel good. Can you just be straight with me?” Suna complained. Osamu turned on him. His face was contorted and Suna was taken aback when he saw tears rolling down flushed cheeks.

“Osamu, what—“

“Rin, ya were gone. Ya were here but ya just weren’t. Ya didn’t know who I was or who Tsumu was and ya didn’t know where you were and fuck. It was terrifyin’. Ya screamed when I put ya in the tub. Saying that I was torturing ya and that ya were caged and shit,” Osamu sobbed. Suna’s chest twinged.

This was not his Osamu. He brought this man to this state?

“I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do. Ya kept throwin’ up but it didn’t seem like ya even knew it was happenin’,” Osamu continued. He fell to his knees.

“Yer fever was so high and it happened so quickly. Tsumu tried to help, but he’s still sick. My mom left to go get more medicine and I felt so helpless,” he whimpered before devolving into a fit of heart wrenching sobs.

Suna stared at the boy before him, shell-shocked. He eased himself onto the ground and crawled over to Osamu and hugged him. It wasn’t long before Osamu’s arms were wrapped around his middle and he started crying into Suna’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he soothed, “I don’t remember a lot of that. I remember being confused and cold and feeling like I was being held down, but I don’t remember anything else. I’m sorry, Osamu. I’m so sorry.” Osamu nodded, but kept crying and that was okay.

They stayed like that a little while longer, Suna shushing Osamu gently. Eventually, Osamu pulled back and wiped his face. Suna smiled softly at him and he chuckled sadly.

“Sorry,” he sniffled. Suna shook his head.

“I really need to lie down,” he said. He was starting to feel really heavy and nauseas again and it was getting difficult to keep his eyes open.

Osamu nodded and helped him back to the bed. He lay down and Osamu quickly followed, enveloping Suna into his chest. Suna nuzzled his face into the soft fabric of Osamu’s shirt. He felt Osamu place a kiss into the top of his head and give him a little squeeze.

“I’m sorry again,” he mumbled, half asleep already.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad yer alright. I’m sorry I freaked out on ya.” He stroked his hand up and down Suna’s back.

“‘S’okay. I’m just that important,” Suna yawned. Osamu chuckled and it warmed Suna’s heart and calmed his mind.

“Ya sure are. Go to sleep. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Osamu said. With his blessing, Suna fell asleep.

***

Later that night, Atsumu would show them a picture of the two of them cuddled up and drooling on each other that he took when he mustered up the strength to come check on things. Osamu yelled at him but Suna asked him to send it to him. He may have set it as his phone’s home screen.

By the next morning, Suna woke up to the sound of Osamu heaving beside him. It was unpleasant and made his stomach turn. Before he realized what was happening, he was sprinting to the bathroom and pushing Atsumu out of the way and emptying his stomach into the toilet.

“Sunarin, please,” Atsumu choked before turning to the bath tub.

Miya-san ran into the room and surveyed the situation.

“My poor boys,” she sighed, “I’m gonna go set up the livin’ room so I can watch all three of ya.”

And so Suna spent the next few days camped out in the Miya’s living room. Soon enough, Atsumu was well enough to help out his mom here and there. And when Suna was feeling up to it, he returned the favor and rubbed Osamu’s back as he puked disgustingly.

“Ya can go home if ya want,” Osamu panted between rounds. Suna shook his head.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you, stupid.”

Osamu smiled gratefully before his cheeks puffed out and he turned back to the bin. Suna laughed and kissed the back of his sweaty neck.

Maybe they didn’t define their relationship with labels, but Suna was pretty positive that he wanted to stick with Osamu for the rest of his life.

[thatesqcrush]

Team Bonding

Bryan Kneef x Reader. NSFW. Warnings: dub-con, because he’s her superior. Oral sex, vaginal fingering, and fisting. Yes. You read that right. Also squirting. You have been warned. Oh, and this covers ice-skating in my naughty & nice bingo. This is most definitely naughty. 

WC: 2.8K

***

“Bryan Kneef doesn’t do ice skating.” A voice boomed from down the hall.

“Stop referring to yourself in third-person you psycho.” You rolled your eyes as you headed towards the voice. You paused in front of a decorative mirror in the empty law firm and rubbed lip balm over your lips.

“I told you, Bryan Kneef doesn’t do ice skating.”

You rubbed your lips together, and then made way to the lobby, finding the acerbic head of litigation at STR Laurie, sitting in a chair, with a scowl on his face. Which, lets face it, was nothing new for Bryan Kneef.

“Look, I know this is the last thing you wanted to be doing. But your bosses up there, wanted to make the transition with Reddick Boseman smooth.” You pointed towards the ceiling and then pointed back down. “It’s not my fault we got paired up together. You said I could choose what we got to do. I chose ice skating.”

You walked past him and hit the button, calling for the elevator. You crossed your arms and began tapping your foot, irritated. “Well?”

Bryan glowered and then stood. “Fine.”

**

When STR Laurie announced that they wanted to do a team building exercise with Reddick Boseman & Lockhart, you were less than thrilled. The last thing you wanted to do was spend more time with work on your weekend. Especially when you were paired with Bryan. You were not blind, the man was fucking gorgeous and he cropped up in many a fantasy with your battery operated boyfriend. However, his attitude left much to be desired. He would work you and the rest of the paralegal department to the bone. You knew from his bio on the firm website, that he started himself as a paralegal upon graduating from Northwestern Law – you figured he’d be cognizant of how to treat junior staff, probably having been through it himself. Instead, he chose to continue the cycle of asshole treatment. Bryan tried to get out of it himself, but his own boss Gavin Firth told him to make nice and take part – especially if he wanted to keep leading the litigation department and not give it to Diane. Backed into a corner, Bryan reluctantly agreed.

Initially, he had hoped he would be paired with a fellow colleague who he would be able to convince to blow off this event and hit high end bar with. And if not that, he had hoped it was the blonde secretary with big tits two floors down that he could wham, bam, thank you ma’am and then move on from. Instead – he got stuck with you – the mousy senior paralegal. He knew who were – he knew who everyone was. You had worked with him on a few cases before. You were very good at your job but otherwise, left little to the imagination with your baggy, shapeless sacks of dresses and frumpy sweaters. There was no desire for him to try to get under your skirt. Not when there was a bevvy of women and men he could have, just a dial away.

As the elevator went down, Bryan chose to study your profile. Though you were bundled up to the hilt in a white puffer coat and burgundy hat, he could still see your long lashes and lush lips that had a sheen from whatever you put on them. His nose caught the barest whiff of perfume and he had to admit that it smelled lovely. The elevator landed and you walked out first. He was surprised to see a shapely ass under the dark denim fitted jeans you wore.

STR was close to Millennium Park. You both made way through to the ice skating rink, barely a word between you. You were meeting a few other STR/Boseman colleagues and friends from your department who were already there. Bryan paid for the skating rental and soon enough you were both on the ice. You skated towards your friends with ease, leaving the attorney behind, gripping the sides. A look of panic was on his face as he tried to maintain balance. You turned around and let out a derisive laugh before skating back towards him, offering your hand.

“Is the big bad lawyer afraid of a little ice?” You mocked.

“Shut up and leave me alone. I am here, aren’t I? Go back to your friends and go take your pictures. Make fun of me all you want. Come Monday, I am going to bury you all with doc production.” Bryan sneered.

You skated closer to him and offered your hand once more. “Come on, it’s not that hard – watch me.” You stood next to him. “Your knees should always stay slightly bent. That position lowers your center of gravity, stabilizing you. It also helps you to skate without falling. Also, you should always have your weight positioned over your skating leg. One time you’re skating on the right leg, and the next moment on the left one. Every time you switch legs, you must shift your weight so that it’s over the skating leg.”

You demonstrated what you had explained and then repeated it. Bryan looked at you like a deer in headlights. Your lips twitched into a small smile. “Give me your hand.”

Bryan sighed, his breath causing a small puff of air. “Fine.” He grunted and took your hand. Your hand and his hand were encased in gloves and you mourned the idea that you weren’t holding hands bare skin to bare skin. You skated easily and Bryan wobbled a bit behind, but managing to keep pace. However, at one point, another skater flew by catching Bryan off guard and he lost his balance, falling, bringing you down with him.

“Mother fucking cock sucker son of a bitch!” You swore loudly, rubbing the side of your left ankle. “Ugh, I think I twisted it, you jerk!” Tears pricked your eyes.

“You? How about me?” Bryan snapped. “I can’t even get stand up without falling down.”

“Boo hoo asshole.” Two of your friends helped you up and you tried to bear weight but found that you could not. You were helped off the ice and Bryan followed, clambering to get off the ice, using the wall of the rink to help him.

You winced as you remove the skate, examining your ankle. It was starting to swell and the area was tender to touch. Bryan sat next to you, removing his own skates as well.

“How bad is it?” You heard him ask. You looked at him. “It’s sprained.”

For a brief moment, he looked remorseful. And just as quickly as you blinked, it was gone. “I’ll get us a car; I’ll take you home.”

You cocked your brow. “Excuse me, I can get home on my own just fine.” And stubborn as you were, you tried to stand but let out a grimace of pain, plopping back onto the hard bench.

“Let me take you home.” Bryan replied.

“Wonderful.” You seethed. Bryan returned your skates, along with his and brought over you shoes. You smashed your foot into your sneaker as best you could. Bryan offered his arm and begrudgingly, you took it, and limped out of the park. The ride home was uneventful, again with barely any conversation. You hobbled up the stairs rather comically and it was Bryan’s turn to roll his eyes at your pathetic attempt. You yelped as he suddenly picked you up, bridal style.

“What’s your apartment?”

“2D.” You replied mournfully, feeling embarrassed and humiliated that you could barely manage to get around and now you were being carried like a baby. There was a small part of you, however, that squealed inwardly. You clutched onto Bryan, his body solid and warm. He smelled wonderful and you allowed yourself to pretend to be swept away by the handsome lawyer.

**

“I got it from here, you can put me down.” You insisted once you were both inside. You both took off your coats. Bryan swallowed hard – for all the mousy outfits you wore at work, today you wore a form fitting sweater, which showed off the dip of your hip and swells of your tits.

Bryan carefully set you down and sharp pain shot up your leg and you swore again. “Maybe you should see someone.”

“I’ll tape it and ice it,” you reassured Bryan. “I’ll be fine.” This earned you an exasperated sigh. “I will take some ibuprofen,” you added for good measure.

Bryan grumbled in French about you being stubborn as he made way through your apartment. “I heard that, and you’re one to talk,” you replied cheekily, surprising him that you knew another language. Bryan was further surprised at your modest, but overall modern apartment. He liked the exposed brick and thought your small Christmas tree with its large, vintage bulbs was tacky, but charming in a way. He went into your kitchen and rummaged through your freezer, before returning with a bag of frozen peas.

“Put this on your ankle.” Bryan ordered. You took the bag. You propped your ankle onto your coffee table and stuck the bag on. You looked up at him. “I’m good. You can go now – and don’t worry, I’ll be in on Monday. Thanks for the lift.”

Bryan nodded and turned away, making his way back down your hallway. As soon as he did, you attempted to stand and swore loudly once more. Bryan turned on the balls on his feet. “Christ, Y/N, at least wait ‘til I am gone.”

“Wha—hey!” You shouted as he picked you up again, this time over his shoulder, so you were face to his ass. He gave your ass a playful spank and made his way down your other hallway, looking for your bedroom. “Put me down!”

He found it fairly quickly and unceremoniously threw you onto your bed.

“Are you always this stubborn?” He asked, his hands on his hips. He eyed your bedroom. It was small, like the rest of your apartment.

“Are you always a pretentious asshole?” You asked. Finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “Why are you being nice to me?”

Bryan didn’t respond. Instead, he sat next to you. “I know everyone thinks I am an asshole.” You snorted and Bryan let out a defeated sigh. “Okay, so I am an asshole. But I am still a fucking person.”

“The devil has feelings?” You covered your mouth and then cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Bryan shrugged. “For all the shit I do, yeah, I do.” He turned to you. “Look, I am sorry that I hurt your ankle. And maybe take Monday off – see a doctor. Don’t worry about it. I will make sure it doesn’t count against your PTO.”

You looked at him and you smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

You were suddenly aware that Bryan was in your bedroom, on your bed. He looked debonair in his burgundy sweater and dark jeans. You could see the dark beard with the tiniest flecks of grey. When he began to massage your foot, you felt desire pool in your most intimate of parts.

“Bryan – I…” You swallowed hard. He looked up at you, his green eyes were intense and he gave the slightest nod to you. You leapt into his lap, ignoring the screaming pain of your ankle and kissed him. Bryan kissed you in return and slipped his tongue into your mouth, seeking and exploring. His hands were over your ass, grabbing at your flesh. He gave you a playful squeeze which earned him a moan from you.

A hand moved up and under your sweater, skillfully unhooking your bra and immediately moving to your breasts. He tugged and twisted a nipple, enjoying how you squirmed in his embrace.

“Let me take care of you,” Bryan replied breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting. You removed your sweater and fished off your bra. His eyes darkened at the sight of your shapely breasts. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on them.

“Oh yes,” you agreed, practically purring. “I ache.”

Bryan hummed in acknowledgement. He pushed you back onto the bed and helped you out of your jeans. Slowly his hand made its way back under your underwear, along your hip. Your breathing hitched as his hand moved closer to the apex of your thighs. You were already sopping in anticipation.

“You’re so wet,” Bryan noted, a single finger stroking you briefly, before slipping inside. You sighed at the feeling of his finger in you. Encouraging, you pushed your panties to the side allowing him greater access.

Bryan slipped another finger inside of you, his tempo quickening. You began moving against his hand, mewling as he continued his ministrations. His fingers pumped in and out of you faster and faster. You cried out in pleasure. Bryan slowed his momentum before removing his fingers completely. You whimpered in protest and Bryan made a big show of sucking on his fingers. “You are delicious.” Bryan commented and you blushed in response.

Leaning over, he grabbed a pillow and encouraged you to lift your hips, placing the pillow under you. You spread your legs wantonly and unabashedly. Nipping your thighs, Bryan nestled in between your legs, his tongue in your folds, licking you and swirling his tongue on your swollen clitoris. You groaned, and your hands lost themselves in his dark hair, trying to keep him in place. The added feel of his beard along your sensitive skin only heightened your pleasure.

Bryan hummed in agreement and the vibrations sent shockwaves up your body. You arched your back as his tongue flicked on your clitoris as he slipped two fingers back in, all the way deep to the knuckle. Ignoring your aching ankle, your hips rose to meet the thrusts of his fingers. A third finger slipped inside, stretching you.

“Oh shit! Bryan!”

“That’s right, take it.” Bryan whispered. His thumb rubbed your clitoris haphazardly. You like getting fucked by my hand?”

“Yes, fuck, give it to me!” Your legs were shaking. “I am going to cum.” You groaned.

“Not yet.” Bryan grunted. He withdrew his hand and you whined at the lost contact. “Do you have any lube?”

You looked up at him, curious. “Uh, top drawer. Condoms in there too.”

Bryan winked at you and moved off your bed. As he rummaged through your drawer, you eyed the tent in his pants hungrily.

Bryan removed his shirt, leaving his jeans on. Seeing his thick body, with his dusty rose nipples and smattering of chest hair – he was even more hot than you could have imagined. He spread your legs again and dipped his head once more tasting you. You watched as he drizzled lube along your folds and then over his hand. He tucked his thumb into his palm, tapering his fingers and then slowly penetrated you until his entire hand was inside of you.

You let out a sound that was akin to animalistic howl. “Holy shit, holy shit, oh my God!” Bryan began rock his hand back and forth, fucking you with his fist. You felt so full and all you could think – or even say was more, more, more!

“Cum for me,” Bryan growled, his fingers finding that sweet spot that no one else ever had. You sobbed in pleasure and he dipped his head back between your legs and flicked his tongue against your clit. You came hard, shouting his name, grabbing the sheets haphazardly. Bryan continued to pump in and out of you, while looking up at you. A smirk graced his face, and he stroked that sweet spot once more. Your lungs burned as you gasped for air, feeling tremendous pressure and then release as you squirted all over Bryan’s face. Bryan lapped at you through your orgasm until it subsided. Slowly he removed his fist. Moving back up to you, he pushed his fingers into your mouth. “Suck” he ordered. You sucked on his fingers, tasting yourself.

You nipped Bryan’s fingers playfully and he chuckled, removing them. He pressed a kiss on your lips. “Feeling better?”

“Mmmm much,” you replied grinning. Pushing Bryan gently back onto the bed, you climbed onto him. “But I do think more TLC is in order,” you replied taking his hands and placing them on your breasts. “Up to the challenge, Mr. Kneef?”

Bryan winked. “I think I like my odds.”

FIN.

--

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[mca-attack21]

The Sacrifice

Hi guys, this was an interesting concept that I thought I would try out. I haven’t quite decided if I want to leave it as a stand-alone or add a second part. Anyways, grab your bow-ties and enjoy!

You had gone on so many incredible adventures with The Doctor. As a side-effect, you had often been placed in dangerous situations, but you were never truly scared because you always knew that the Doctor would come for you. You knew that at the end of the day, everything was going to be okay because that was who he was, the man who saved the universe. You loved him with all of your heart and you chose willingly to put your faith in him. 

But this time was different. This time you were absolutely terrified.

The Doctor and you had traveled to a planet to waste some time as Amy and Rory were ‘honeymooning’ in Amsterduke. You would never pass up a chance for one on one time with the Doctor and were excited to see what the day would bring.

And everything was going great, at least until the two of you were captured. When you woke up, you were being held in some type of pod. You couldn’t move to even begin to try to get out. You saw that across the room the Doctor was strapped down to some sort of table, the aliens were hovering over his seemingly unconscious body.

“Why are you doing this?” you yelled gaining their attention.

“We have been waiting for centuries to find someone with time vortex energy to use as a stabilizer. He refused us, so we are going to take away his option to disagree with us by making him autonomous,” one of the creatures said bluntly.

“What does that mean?” you asked already afraid of the answer.

“We will end his independent brain function, and put his body in a permanent state of homeostasis. But don’t worry, he won’t feel it.”

“You’re going to kill him!” you yelled.

“We have no other choice. But don’t worry, as he stabilizes the ruptures in time, his existence will be rewritten, you will not remember him,” the creature tried to reason.

Your mind rushed as you realized what it had just said and with complete confidence you said, “Use me.”

“What?” the creature, who you later learned was the leader, asked.

“I am covered with vortex energy, and am entirely willing, let me take his place,” you pleaded.

“Stop, what you are doing,” he order those that were working on the Doctor. He then turned back towards you. “You would be erased from time like you never existed.”

“I know, please, just let me take his place.” 

“Why would you do that?”

“Because he is the most important man, the last of his kind, the savior of the universe. Killing him would devastate the world, but me? It wouldn’t even leave a mark.”

“Do you love him?” he asked.

“More than anything in this world,” you answered sincerely.

“Okay, we will test you, if you are compatible we will make the trade and let him go free, you have my word.”

With that, you were escorted to another room where a female came in and ran tests.

“You are very brave,” she said.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry, we can make it to where you will never feel it.”

“What if you don’t? What if I want to stay cognizant? To be able to remember everything?”

“You would be in agonizing pain, why would you want that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t lose him.”

“It would ultimately be up to you, though I wouldn’t recommend it.”

The tests came back and it was confirmed that you were compatible. The leader came back in and said that it was the most honorable thing to make a sacrifice for love. He asked if there was anything that you wanted to do before they put you in the capsule. You asked him for the chance to say goodbye to the Doctor and the ability to make a phone call to assure he’d be taken care of afterward. He agreed.

As you were led back to the room, you tried to prepare yourself. You knew that you could never tell him what you were about to do. He would try to talk you out of it, but the leader had been clear that it was you or the Doctor. If you tried to escape, he would kill you both and after what you witnessed earlier, you knew that he could. You took comfort in the fact that the Doctor wouldn’t remember any of this. You knew that if he did he would blame himself and it would absolutely tear him apart. But it was okay because he never would.

You put a brave face on and pushed the door open. The doctor was now sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He still looked awful, but managed to shoot you a weak smile as you entered.

“I don’t know how you did it, but you saved me, they are letting us go,” the Doctor said.

“Well, I figured it was my turn. You’re always saving me,” you replied taking a seat beside him. ‘But not this time’ you thought.

“I just need about an hour to recover and then we can go back to the TARDIS and forget any of this ever existed.”

Those words hurt you and you hadn’t really realized that you’d started crying until the Doctor reached up to wipe your tears.

“Y/n? What’s the matter?” 

“It’s nothing, I’m just glad that you’re okay. I was scared for a minute there,” you answered.

‘Even if that means that I will never see you again’ 

“Come on Y/n, I’ll always be okay as long as I’ve got you,” he promised.

This sentence brought more tears, which caused him to pull you into his arms with a painful inhale. You had to remind yourself that this was the only way. It was either you or him. And he would be fine, he wouldn’t remember you, he’d still have the Ponds and River. He would still be the Doctor, alive to fight another day. 

Without really thinking, you whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n,” he whispered into your hair.

The two of you stayed like that until there was a knock on the door signaling that your time was up. You felt like it wasn’t enough time, but you knew deep down that no amount of time could have ever felt like it was enough.

“That’s my cue, I have to go check on something. Just stay here and rest up,” you faked a reassuring smile.

“Oh, okay,” the Doctor said with confusion in his voice. He could tell that something was off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

You gave him a tight squeeze and in a moment of weakness you kissed him. You hadn’t even really meant to do it, but something inside of you took over. The Doctor was slightly caught off guard, but happy nonetheless. Another knock was heard at the door and you pulled away, leaving the Doctor with a slight pout.

You walked towards the door, knowing better than to turn around and look at him again. He mistakenly took this for embarrassment over the kiss.

“Was I that bad?” he joked, longing for you to smile over your shoulder and laugh.

But as you refused to look at him, he realized that it was something else. You hesitated for a moment as you reached the door and said, “Goodbye Doctor, thanks for the adventures,” and without missing a beat exited the room.

“Wait? What do you mean goodbye? Y/n?” he asked trying to push himself to his feet ignoring the aching in his muscles and the fire in his lungs. He watched as the door shut behind you and tried to force it open. His hearts sank as he realized that his feeling that something was wrong was being confirmed. He forced himself over to his suit jacket to get his sonic, knowing deep down that he was running out of time. But it wasn’t there, someone must’ve taken it. 

He was starting to panic, he was trapped in here while you were out there. He wasn’t there to protect you. He was also incredibly frustrated as he now knew that you were hiding something from him, him. That could only mean that you were about to do something incredibly stupid, something that you didn’t think he’d be able to fix, something you didn’t want him to see. A tear rolled down his cheek, that wasn’t your decision to make. He forced himself back over to the door, and tried to open it. The exertion eventually came to much and he sunk down with his back against the wall. He felt so helpless, this was all his fault. And for the first time in a very long time, the Doctor cried. But even as the tears fell, he started to forget why he was crying.

By the time the door opened, he was surprised to see who entered. For it was the woman who perplexed him endlessly. The one he was pretty sure that he was going to marry someday.

“Hello Sweetie,” River said with a smile, though he saw the sadness in her eyes, but, he knew better than to ask. Spoilers.

“River? What happened? Where am I? Where are the Ponds?”

“Amy and Rory are on a honeymoon adventure in Amsterduke. You decided to come here and waste some time, but bit off a little more than you could chew. Your captors almost killed you, but it’s okay, everything has been handled. Should we go find the TARDIS?” she asked pitching him his sonic.

“Of course,” he said, though he had this strange feeling that something was missing.

River grabbed his coat, which he gratefully accepted. Something was missing, where was his bow-tie? Oh well, he had plenty more in the TARDIS. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit out of sorts. The two of them made their way back to the TARDIS and the Doctor made himself some tea to help his body rebalance itself. When he returned to the console room, he was surprised at River’s unusually quiet demeanor. 

“So, aren’t you going to ask where we are this time? Pull out our diaries, do the whole nine yards?” the Doctor asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, of course,” she said smile brightening her face. River knew how to put on an act for him. She was practically the only person alive who knew what had actually happened that day. But she could never tell him, time didn’t work like that. If there was any chance of getting you back, the Doctor would have to remember you for himself.

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 11 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So I really struggled writing Chapter 10...Chapter 11 however...took me like two days. So yeah...uh characters are still in Iceland, Days 3 and 4 sightseeing will be posted following this. As always all posts for this series can be found by searching the tag ‘038’ on my blog. Let me know what you think. 

Gif Credit: @j-compher​

Warnings: cursing, oral sex, smut, unprotected (on birth control but no condom) smut

Word Count: 3,819

~~~~~~

If you’d thought day two of your trip had involved a lot of driving, you were in for a rude awakening moving forward.

The morning of your third day in Iceland, you and Cale had slept in until around 8 am before getting up, heading down to breakfast, packing up and then checking out of the hotel. Before leaving Reykjavik, you stopped at a market to stock up on some drinks and snacks, then a gas station for a refill before finally hitting the road heading south.

After about an hour and 40 minute drive, you reached your first stop: Seljalandsfoss Waterfall. This waterfall was the perfect photo op because you could actually walk behind the falls. Taking some sillier but also sweet pictures, you continued on to another waterfall about a half hour away. From there, you stopped for lunch before Cale drove on to Dyrhólaey Nature Reserve.

The nature reserve was home to sea stacks and arches and the view from the upper trail was breathtaking. It had only been three days but already you were certain that Iceland was one of the most beautiful countries in the world.  After taking in the views from above, you headed to the lower trail and onto Reynisfjara beach.

There, black sand stretched in front of you as far as you could see. It was so different than any other beach you’d ever been on but it was honestly really, really cool. As cool as the sand was, the rock formations lining the beach were even cooler. After walking tucked into Cale’s side for a little bit you looked up at the cliffs to your left and immediately started freaking out. Jumping up and down, trying not to squeal, you tugged on Cale’s sleeve as if your previous actions hadn’t already gained his attention.

“What are you freaking out about?” Cale asked, mystified expression on his face.

“Puffins!” You squealed quietly, pure glee on your face. “They’re so cute!” The last thing you wanted to do was disturb the birds, but you were so excited to see them it was impossible to keep completely silent. Of course, you kept your distance, simply admiring them from afar.

Cale didn’t seem to know what to do with your reaction but he let you have your moment watching the birds, his lips pressed against the top of your head. As you headed back down the beach Cale rubbed his thumb against your side.

“I take you to see beautiful geological formations but it’s the birds you’re excited about.” He mused, shaking his head.

“Leave me alone.” You pouted. “You don’t just see puffins anywhere you know.” Lifting your chin, Cale kissed you softly.

“As long as you’re having fun and are excited about something I’m happy.” He insisted, his arm pulling you closer into his side.

It wasn’t a far drive to the village of Vik which Cale informed you was where you were staying for the night. Unlike yesterday where you had been going non-stop, not returning to your hotel until after 11pm, today you were already here and it was only late afternoon.

After checking into your hotel, you dropped off your bags and used the bathroom before heading into the village itself to park and walk around. Stopping into the tourist shop, you browsed around looking specifically at all of the locally made products. Eventually, you spotted a set of glass coasters made from the black sand of the beaches you’d just been on. Across the tops, various local scenes were painted. They were simple but beautiful and your fingers lingered across the tops of them.

“Those are nice.” Cale said, appearing over your shoulder suddenly.

“Yeah they are.” You agreed. Picking up two sets, Cale handed you one.

“We should get them. One for the house, one for my apartment.” Cale declared. “That way we both have something to remind us of this trip.”

“That’s really soft Cale.” You murmured.

“Don’t care.” He replied. Though you continued to look around, there wasn’t anything else that spoke to you as much as the set of coasters did and eventually you headed to the register to purchase them.

Walking around the village you took in how cute and quaint it was. Soon after your stomachs started complaining, you stumbled into a small restaurant. There you and Cale split a pizza with pesto for sauce, mozzarella cheese, tomatoes, parma ham, topped with a balsamic glaze and parmesan cheese. It was delicious and you left feeling completely stuffed.

You’d called it an early night back at the hotel, settling for a movie on Netflix as you curled up together in bed. A relaxing evening was exactly what you needed to recharge and be ready to continue on your journey.

++

Day four of your trip started by filling up the gas tank and then embarking on an hour long drive to Fjaðrárgljúfur canyon.

Just before you reached the canyon, you encountered a small turn off which led you to a viewpoint. Climbing out of the car you walked up the pathway until you reached a platform. As far as the eye could see were moss covered rocks and it truly felt like you had stepped onto another planet.

“Are you sure we’re still on planet earth?” You whispered to Cale. Your boyfriend chuckled quietly in response, his hand resting on your hip. It seemed like the more time you spent alone together, not worried about who you saw or who saw you, the more reliant on physical touches each of you became. You’d never felt so comfortable just being with someone and thinking back on the times you’d seen Cale with Sara, you had a feeling the same could be said for him.

With more pictures clogging up your phones, you continued on to the Canyon itself. It was only a two-minute walk to the start of the canyon from the car and the moment you reached it your jaw dropped.

“Cale…” You whispered. You didn’t even have words to describe how beautiful this place was.

“Woah...sweetheart.” Cale’s thumbs brushed against your cheeks as he spoke and it wasn’t until he pulled you into his chest that you realized you were crying. “Shhh..give your brain a minute to process.” Cale assured you. His patience with you seemed neverending as his hands stroked your back until you finally calmed down.

“Sorry…” You mumbled, wiping frantically at your eyes when you finally pulled away.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Cale insisted. “You’re allowed to be emotionally effected by things. It’s normal. Especially when it’s something as amazing as this.” Cale’s lips pressed gently to your forehead and he dropped his hand from your back to lace your fingers together. “You good to go walk?” He questioned.

It took about 45 minutes to walk all the way up to the top of the canyon and back and you stopped for pictures at various points along the way. You still couldn’t put into words the way this place made you feel; it was all so overwhelming in the best way. As you stood off to the side of the first viewpoint, away from the majority of other tourists, you tugged Cale’s hand until he was close enough you could wrap your arms around his neck.

“Thank you.” You murmured, kissing him lightly. “You always know exactly what I need, you’re always putting me first and taking care of me. It doesn’t go unnoticed, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. You mean the world to me Cale...I don’t know if I’m quite as good at showing it as you are, but I hope you know that.”

“I do...know that…” Cale responded, kissing you again gently before pulling away, a fondness in his eyes that nearly sent you reeling. Dragging your fingers along his lower back you made up your mind to show him just how important he was to you once you were actually alone.

Back in the car, you munched on some of the snacks you’d brought in lieu of trying to find somewhere to stop for lunch. It took almost two hours to get to your next stop, the Jökulsárlón Iceberg Lagoon.

There, the two of you hopped on a boat tour where you got to taste a piece of 1,000 year old ice as you toured the lagoon. It was incredible to see first hand just how much ice was breaking off of the glacier and it made you more cognizant of the consequences of global climate change.

Right across the highway from the lagoon was Breiðamerkursandur or the diamond beach where fragments of ice wash up after floating from the lagoon out into the ocean. You made Cale climb onto an iceberg so you could take a picture of him and you got some great shots of all of the ice scattered along the shore. Despite the fact that it wasn’t all that cold outside, having been surrounded by ice for the past hour or two left you feeling chilly even if you had dressed in layers.

As you climbed in the car, Cale turned the heat on and you squeezed his knee in thanks. It was just a short drive to your hotel for the night and once you’d checked in, you shed a few layers before heading to the bar for a drink before dinner.

You’d retreated to your room around 6:30pm and Cale hopped in the shower first to clean up. While you waited for him to finish, you dug in your bag trying to decide what to grab for after your own shower. Thinking back to how you had promised yourself you were going to show Cale just how important he was, you unzipped a small compartment where you’d hidden the lingerie you’d bought.

Buying lingerie had been a spur of the moment decision possibly fueled by a few glasses of wine, and the thought of actually wearing it made you nervous. Your sex life with Cale had been fairly tame so far, nothing too out of the box. It had also been completely spontaneous on every occasion. You honestly had no idea how he would react to lingerie and though both sets were fairly tame in comparison to some sets you’d seen online, this was still something new and therefore nerve wracking.

Hearing the shower turn off, you jumped, your heart racing as you grabbed the more modest of the two sets. If you were going to do this, you were going to ease into it. Collecting your cosmetic bag, you hid the lingerie close to your chest.

Slipping into the bathroom as soon as Cale exited, you stripped out of your clothes and stepped into the shower trying not to overthink this. Focusing on shaving your legs and cleaning up served as a bit of a distraction but as you toweled off, your eyes landed back on the lingerie you’d placed on the counter.

You were certain you’d talk yourself out of this if you had to stare at yourself wearing the lingerie in the mirror for too long, so you started with your makeup, doing just a little bit more than you had been lately in order to make yourself feel confident and sexy. Blow drying your hair, you brushed it out before finally reaching for the lace and silk fabric.

Burgundy colored silk sat low on your hips, edged by black lace along both of your thighs. The same black lace covered your chest, ending at the bottom of your ribcage leaving your stomach exposed. It was...sensual but not over the top and when you slid the burgundy silk robe over it, you felt like you might actually be able to pull this off.

Reminding yourself that Cale had nearly lost his shit at the sight of you in a bikini the other night, you took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door and stepping out into the bedroom. Cale was sprawled out on the bed with just a pair of shorts slung low on his hips.

“What do you want to watch tonight?” Cale’s question was asked before he ever looked up at you, but when he did he blinked slowly. “That’s uh...that’s not your usual pajama set…” He murmured.

Blood pounding through your veins, you moved across the room to climb onto the bed beside him. Grabbing the remote from his hand, you turned the tv off before setting the remote aside.

“I was thinking about a different form of entertainment tonight…” You stated, your own voice sounding foreign in your ears. Sliding over Cale’s lap until you were straddling him, your hands ran down along his arms as his eyes did a slow once over of your body. “I think it’s time I take care of you for once.” You husked, raising an eyebrow. Cale hadn’t even seen what was under the robe yet and already he was slack jawed. The power you held over him in that moment sent a rush of adrenaline through you and you slid down the bed, tugging his shorts and boxers down with you.

“You good handsome?” You teased, lightly stroking your fingers over the length of his rapidly hardening dick. Cale couldn’t seem to speak, but he nodded his head and for now that was enough consent. Flicking your tongue along the slit of his cock, you stroked the length of him in your hand until a soft grunt fell from his lips. Only then did you hollow your cheeks, sinking down around him, taking as much of his length as you could down your throat. Bobbing slowly, you felt him twitch and when you pulled back to breathe you ran your tongue along the veins on the underside of his cock.

Following your instincts, plus Cale’s body language and verbal clues, you settled into a rhythm blowing your boyfriend for the first time. You’d seen and felt Cale orgasm enough to know when he was getting close as his body strained beneath you.

“Fuck. Babe. Stop.” Cale gasped, but peeking up at him you knew he didn’t actually want you to stop.

“We’ve got all night handsome...plenty of time for you to recover after coming down my throat.” You murmured before flicking your tongue through his slit again collecting all of his precum. Returning to your efforts, you cupped his balls as you sunk down his length. After just a minute, Cale came with a moan as he spilled down your throat and after swallowing you pulled off of him, sliding your tongue along his skin to clean him up. Cale’s cheeks were flushed as he tried to catch his breath and you slid up his body, settling yourself back over his lap.

“Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” Cale gasped, his head falling forward to land against your shoulder. Kissing his head, you ran your fingers through his hair waiting for him to become more coherent.

“Just trying to take care of my man.” You hummed. “But if you’re complaining...you don’t have to see what’s under the robe.” As you spoke, you drew his hands up to the tie at your waist, leaving it for him to undo.

The speed at which Cale undid the bow told you that he wasn’t complaining at all and you let him push the robe from your shoulders, his eyes landing on you once more. His cheeks flushed further to match the color of your shorts and his eyes were wider than you’d ever seen them. You let him stare, watching as his tongue ran over his lips leaving them wet and shiny in the dim lighting of the hotel room.

“Fuck…” Cale breathed harshly, drawing out the word. “I must be dreaming right now.” He added. “You’re a fucking dream sweetheart.” Cale’s eyes ran slowly up and down your body like he wanted to memorize every inch. “You bought this for me?”

“I take it you like it?” You assumed, letting out a soft sigh in relief at his reaction.

“What do you think?” Cale grunted, pulling your hips to roll down against his cock which was already hard again.

Laughter bubbled from your chest in reaction and you cupped his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him deeply.

“Good to know lingerie is a hit with you.” You admitted. Cale’s eyes flashed with concern for just a moment before his hand fell to your hips, his thumbs brushing against your bare stomach.

“I don’t know whether I want you to keep this on or take it off.” He declared. Clearly he knew better than he thought he did, because as he spoke his hands slid up your sides, gently gripping the fabric and drawing it up and over your head. Half nude on top of him, Cale’s hands cupped your breasts as he pulled you into a desperate kiss.

“Can’t believe you’re mine…” He mumbled, pulling back. There was something about seeing him like this, flushed red, swollen lips, blissed out from one orgasm already that lit every primal need inside of you. As much as you were his, he was yours and god did you need him inside you.

“Please Cale…” You whimpered, rolling your hips against his.

“Shh…” He soothed, hands gliding across your ass. Sensing that he was going to try and flip you, you kept your weight centered firmly above him.

“I wanna be on top.” You pleaded. “Just need out of these shorts…”

Cale wasn’t responding quickly enough, so you pushed the fabric of your shorts off of your own hips, shifting as little as possible while attempting to kick them off and onto the floor.

“Let me…” You cut off Cale’s statement by raising your hips and lowering yourself onto his dick, a gasp spilling from your throat as you felt him slipping deep inside you.

“Yes…” You hissed, the stretch of your body around him filling you with a warmth and ache that you had missed so much. As you started shallowly leveraging yourself up before dropping back down your eyes met Cale’s deep azure orbs, the look in them heightening your arousal.

“So wet.” Cale eventually groaned. “My girl doesn’t even need foreplay after blowing me to be this soaking wet. Fuck.”

Though one of Cale’s hands fell to your hips, you were the one putting in all of the effort to fuck yourself on his cock.

“You’re so needy...fucking yourself...just using my body for your pleasure. So much for wanting to take care of me tonight.” Sinking down on him again, you purposely tightened your vaginal walls against him, drawing another moan from his chest.

“Hmm...I think me doing all the work...letting you cum inside me while you just lay there is taking pretty good care of you…” You corrected. Your thighs were starting to burn from bouncing on top of him but your orgasm was within arm’s reach and there was no way you were stopping before ensuring you both got to climax.

“My girl is close.” Cale groaned. “Cum for me sweetheart...let me feel that tight heat clamp down on me.”

Cale’s words pushed you over the edge and you sunk down on him in exhaustion as your body shook with your orgasm. Spurts of Cale’s semen filled you from deep inside and you whimpered at the feeling, warm from head to toe. As you collapsed against him, still connected intimately, Cale’s fingers played with the ends of your hair.

“I can’t get enough of you.” Cale whispered a few minutes later, his cock starting to harden inside of you again.

“Again?” You inquired, a little bit in disbelief that his rebound time was this fast.

“Only if you want to.” He assured you. “But I’ll take over, you can relax and enjoy this time.” This time when Cale attempted to roll the two of you over, you went willingly, staring up at him. Before moving, Cale settled your legs up over his shoulders and when he thrust inside of you, you cried out softly at the feeling of him brushing against your g-spot.

“I got you sweetheart...just tell me what you need.” Cale sighed, pleasure lacing his tone.

The sound of your skin smacking together and the squelch of your mixed bodily fluids rang in your ears.

“Talk to me…” You pleaded. “Like before.” You weren’t afraid to admit that hearing Cale dirty talk had pushed you so much closer to orgasm than you would have been otherwise.

“Yeah?” Cale breathed, his cheeks turning bright red again as you nodded. “You feel so good like this sweetheart. You’re even wetter than before. So tight too.” Every movement he made brushed against your g-spot and you couldn’t help the litany of noises that fell from your lips at the feeling.

“You like it when I fuck you like this huh?” He continued. “Your pussy stretches around me so nicely, just welcoming me inside. Do you like being fucked nice and deep like this? Feeling each ridge of me against your walls...feeling me spill deep inside you?” Crying out again, your head tossed back and forth against the pillow, your orgasm creeping up on you quickly.

“You do like feeling me spill inside of you don’t you? That’s why you wanted to stop using condoms. You like being skin to skin with me, feeling me raw you bare. You like being filled with my warm sticky cum, the way it drips out of you if I let it…”

Your vision went black for a moment as your orgasm crashed down on you hard. The muscles in your thighs spasmed painfully, but you barely noticed through the waves of pleasure that rippled through you, leaving you panting. As your body clenched around him again, you felt Cale spill inside of you for the second time tonight.

Carefully he pulled out of you before kissing your lips lightly.

“Be right back.” He declared, disappearing into the bathroom. He returned with a washcloth and after wiping down your thighs, he offered you a hand so that you could go to the bathroom yourself. When you returned to the bedroom, Cale handed you a t-shirt to wear before guiding you under the covers.

“So dirty talk huh…?” He chirped, his nose brushing against the top of your head.

“Shut up and turn the tv on Cale.” You replied, feeling heat flood your cheeks. Chuckling, Cale complied, but as he handed you the remote to pick a show he couldn’t help but get in the last word.

“It’s hot. I enjoyed it.” Shaking your head, you snuggled against him just basking in what was left of the afterglow.

“And for the record...you can always surprise me with lingerie. I’m definitely into that as well.”

Lingerie:

[bumblebee-moreno]

Lovers

After hours of cursing at my laptop, I have finally finished my secret santa fic for @artemiseamoon​ (hope you like it!!!)

Ezra x reader (written with an AFAB reader in mind, though it’s entirely possible I accidentally made it gender neutral)

Warnings: insecure Ezra, discussion of body image (Ezra), light angst, but mostly fluff, possibly OOC Ezra? idk I haven’t written a lot of him yet... umm marriage is discussed just but it’s left ambiguous as to whether it’s legal or if y’all just decided to say you were 🤷 ...um possible inaccuracies with the tarot content?? i did my research but I had zero knowledge to begin with so idk if I got everything right?

Word count: 5098

A/N: Important!!! This fic is separated into sections... Italics take place in a different point in time. The three middle sections (which each have titles) are to represent each card in the tarot reading, the first titled section (in italics) is a flashback, the second is present time, and the third (in italics) is a snapshot of the future. the beginning and end also take place present time. 

before you continue, did you read the author’s note?? it’s important to understanding the fic!!

Ezra lets out a soft sigh, burying his nose deeper into your chest. You card your fingers through his hair, a soft smile appearing on your lips at the way he leans into your touch.

These moments are your favourite: when the weather outside is too dreary for work, and the two of you curl up together on the small cot you share.

Ezra insists he hates days like this. A day without work is a day without pay, after all. You’d always laugh at his complaints.

“Surely a day in bed with me isn’t that unbearable,” you’d always tease.

“A day in your arms,” He’d reply, pressing a kiss to your lips, “is the only satisfactory substitution for a day’s work.”

Ezra shifts in your embrace until he can reach to brush his lips against your neck. You tilt your head, allowing him easier access.

Ezra begins murmuring against your skin. Between every kiss comes a compliment. You have no idea what most of them mean; you can only guess by the love with which they’re said. “There are,” Ezra kisses you again, “no words,” kiss, “impressive enough to describe you, my Star.”

You slowly sit up, Ezra following suit, not allowing any significant distance to come between the two of you.

You cup Ezra’s cheeks, steadying his face between your hands. Softly, as if he might shatter if you’re not careful, you brush your thumb across his lower lip.

Your lover stares into your eyes, almost as if they are the night sky and he’s searching for constellations. Just as you begin to wonder if he’s lost himself, Ezra breaks the silence, his voice barely more than a breath. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to hold the universe in my hands,” you reply, and as if to prove your point, you pull Ezra into a kiss that is as gentle as it is passionate.

“You are mistaken, Star,” Ezra lifts his hand to your face, desperately wishing he had his other, so he could properly mirror your touch. He places a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

“Oh?” you breathe, preparing yourself to argue when he says that he’s the one holding the universe in his hand. Just as he always says.

But his touch falls from your face. With a feather-like touch, he pulls your right hand from his cheek, turning it to place your palm on your left one. He mirrors it with your left hand.

“Now you hold the universe in your hands,” he whispers with a subtle quiver in his voice.

You drop your arms, lips parting to argue with him; to insist you had it right the first time. But your words catch in your throat when a single tear spills down Ezra’s face.

He tries to swipe it away before you see, but you catch his wrist. “What’s wrong, love?” you dry his cheek with your thumb, allowing your fingertips to linger against his jaw.

You watch the wheels turn in Ezra’s head as he chooses his words. “…Me,” he replies simply.

For a moment, you don’t know how to respond. “…you?”

Ezra nods, pulling away from you to lean against the wall.

“What does that mean?” you try to brush a strand of hair out of Ezra’s face, but he shies away from your touch.

“You deserve… more,” Ezra refuses to look at you.

“I don’t understand,” you search Ezra’s face for clues.

“You deserve someone who can give you everything,” he sniffs, “You deserve more than a forlorn pod and allocating freeze-dried rations.” More tears escape from Ezra’s eyes and drip into his lap.

“Ezra,” you soothe, “I don’t care about any of that.” Ezra opens his mouth to argue, but you continue. “Is it not enough to love each other?” you question, not bothering to wait for an answer. “If I only cared about material possessions, do you think I’d really have stuck around this long? I love you, that’s all I care about.”

Ezra wordlessly stands, shuffling across the floor to rifle through a canvas bag.

“What are you doing?” you sigh. You’re met only with a hollow silence.

After a moment, Ezra returns. He delicately sits beside you, placing a small object in your lap. Your gaze drops to find a stack of well-loved cards.

“Ezra,” you protest, setting the cards aside.

“Please,” the desperation in Ezra’s voice breaks your heart.

“You don’t need a tarot reading to tell you that I love you,” you try to meet Ezra’s eyes, but they’re glued to the floor.

“I just—” Ezra sighs. “Forgive my trepidation, but I need to know… where are we headed? I comprehend that you love me at this moment in our journey, but what about years from now? Will you still be enamoured by me?”

You give in with a sigh, realising that Ezra won’t be satisfied by just your insistence that you’ll always love him.

“I’d like to believe you when you say you love me, but I can’t help but speculate that your judgement may be clouded,” Ezra continues. “Our ceaseless wayfaring, our lamentable career… It’s all beneath you. You deserve better.”

You finish shuffling the cards and lay them in front of you. After taking a moment to examine the spread, you open your mouth to speak.

---

Reversed Ace of Cups

Ezra sat back, frowning at the canvas bag. It was stretched at odd angles, stitches pulled tight. He didn’t even attempt to close it, the zipper would tear right off.

“You’re certain all your possessions fit in here?” he asked. He wasn’t able to fit half your things in the bag, let alone all of them.

“Yes, Ezra, I’m certain it all fits.” You lifted your attention from scrubbing filters to examine Ezra’s progress. Laughing at his lost expression, you crossed the floor to kneel across from him.

“You just have to reorganise so it fits,” you explained, shuffling items around until there was room for more.

Ezra watched your hands dig through the bag. They looked like they’d fit perfectly in his. He watched your eyes analyse your work. Just like they do in the field.

Ezra could tell there was a lifetime of stories behind that gaze. He wondered which story caused that slight frown that only seemed to disappear when you were asleep. Or, perhaps, it was a collection of stories.

“There,” You sat back on your knees.

Ezra dropped his attention to the bag. Everything fit. It was still a bit stretched at the seams, but the zipper would no longer struggle to close.

Something caught Ezra’s eye. He reached in, lifting a deck of cards from the top of the bag’s contents. He removed the string holding them together and spread them out in his hands to admire the art on each of them.

“I, um…” You stuttered, watching Ezra’s fingers trace the worn ink and well-used edges.

“I was not aware that you read tarot,” Ezra murmured with a hint of admiration in his voice.

“Keeps me sane,” you shrugged.

“Would you feel inclined to do a reading for me?” Ezra asked, offering the cards out to you.

Your fingers brushed against his and Ezra’s heart jumped into his throat. The contact only lasted a moment, though, before you began shuffling the cards. You were saying something. Your voice was beautiful. Ezra could listen to you talk forever.

You were staring at him expectantly. Ezra’s face heated up—he hadn’t heard what you said.

“I apologise, I didn’t quite catch that, Star.” He chewed his lip, praying that you didn’t catch on to his train of thought.

You fought the urge to smile at the nickname. Ezra has called you that since the day you met. You always pretended to be annoyed, insisting he use your name. You don’t hate it; you just wish it meant the same thing to him that it did to you.

“I asked if you had a question? For the reading.”

“Oh,” Ezra exclaimed. “My apologies, my cognizance was elsewhere.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you laughed, your usual frown melting away. Ezra’s chest swelled with pride at being the reason you’re so relaxed, despite his embarrassment.

“This assignment is approaching its end,” Ezra took a moment to sweep his gaze across the room that had been your shared home for the last several months. “How should I converge with the coming weeks?”

‘will you stick around?’ Ezra meant to say. But you couldn’t know how he feels. Not yet.

You nodded to acknowledge Ezra’s question before you finish shuffling.

Ezra wasn’t even sure how many cards you laid down.

Even through your concentration, you looked happy. Relaxed.

You began to speak. As you shared your interpretation of the cards, Ezra watched how different emotions transformed your face.

Some of them, he had seen before; the passionate look you get when you talk about the stars, the way your brows furrow in an excited concentration. He only saw your eyes light up like this on occasion; at night, usually. When it was too dark to work but neither of you are quite ready to go to sleep, so you settle on opposite ends of the bed, each doing your own thing. He’d sometimes watch you from the corner of his eye, and when you thought he wasn’t looking, you’d glance up at him with that same look in your eye, Ezra had always wondered what it meant, but has never dared ask for fear you’d stop letting him see it. It was a look that felt rare and intimate. As if only those who you’d trust with your life would ever have the privilege of seeing it.

But some of those expressions, Ezra had never seen on your face. The way you looked when you paused for a breath, it was as if you were doing so much more than interpreting the message the cards were telling you; you were the connection between this reality and the next, watching a story unfold and telling Ezra what he needed to know to make it his reality.

Your expressions confirmed what your words were telling him: everything was about to change. His lifestyle. His relationship with you. Everything.

It should have scared Ezra. But this was the safest, the calmest, Ezra had felt in a long time.

You fell silent, finished with your reading. You searched Ezra’s face for a reaction.

“I love you,” Ezra blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your jaw dropped. “Ezra, I—” You didn’t know what to say.

“I understand if my feelings are not reciprocated. And I apologise if this puts you in a vexatious position, I assure you, that was not my intention.” Ezra paused, wringing his hands together. “I simply needed you to be aware of my feelings towards you.”

You didn’t know how to respond. A million words sat at the tip of your tongue, but none of them seemed right. With each passing second, Ezra could feel his stomach drop further and further into the floor.

“Oh,” Ezra breathed, taking your silence as rejection. He backed away, shoulders threatening to collapse around him. Tears stung at the backs of his eyes. His stomach was turning. How could he be so stupid as to think you’d fall in love with a man like him?

You dove forward suddenly, pulling his face toward yours, your lips crashing against his. It took Ezra a moment to register your actions, and another to react. He was soon pulling you into his chest in a bruising embrace, his lips engulfed yours in a way that was almost overwhelming. Ezra let out a soft moan when your fingers found his hair. His nose bumped yours and his breath tasted like the stale, nearly unbearable rations you’d been living off of for months, but you didn’t care—yours probably wasn’t much better.

The kiss was rushed, desperate. Your teeth kept hitting his. He couldn’t decide where on your body he wanted his hands to be.

You finally broke away for a breath. “I love you too,” you whispered into Ezra’s lips.

___

Reversed Judgement

It’s been years since that night. You’d gone through everything together; Ezra nursed you back to health when you got sick, you’d taken care of him when he, inevitably, caught whatever you had. It’s been ages since you stopped counting how many times you’d stitched each other’s wounds. You’d been there for him when he lost his arm, he’d been by your side for every injury of your own. It has never been a question that you have each other’s backs.

Ezra smiles softly. You’re so beautiful like this. The way your eyes light up as you speak, as if you’re a prospector who has just uncovered a valuable gem. It’s an expression Ezra has seen a million times, but his heart aches to see it a million more.

But his smile quickly fades. You’re happy right now. But how long until you realise you deserve better? You don’t deserve this life. You deserve more than a creaky pod and a lumpy cot much too small for one person, let alone two.

And what about the loss of his arm? The jobs Ezra can take now are restricted, the people who will hire him even more so. In bed, he can hardly figure out what to do with himself. You keep insisting that it’s okay, that he’ll learn. But how long are you willing to wait?

Ezra closes his eyes and listens to your voice; it’s his favourite sound. And the passion behind it now, during a reading? It’s overwhelming.

Ezra wants the rest of his life to be spent by your side. He can’t stop thinking about his future with you. Will you settle down together? Or spend the rest of your lives travelling the galaxy together? He’s not sure which he wants more. But either way, he can’t imagine a story for himself that doesn’t include growing old with you. If he’s honest with himself, Ezra can’t even remember a time he’s thought so much about the future. It’s always been about now. About surviving to see tomorrow.

Why does that have to change now that he’s in love? Why is he suddenly afraid of the future?

You’re happy now. Your kisses, the way you seek Ezra out even in your sleep, how your hand finds his almost constantly, proves how happy you are.

Ezra’s never been this happy. He’s never known someone who makes him feel so safe. Around you, Ezra can put his guard down. He doesn’t have to be so cryptic all the time. With you, Ezra can just exist.

Ezra’s hand finds its way into his pocket. His fingers wrap around a small stone.

He watches your hands accentuate each point you make. Ezra loves your hands. Especially your right hand; it’s the one he gets to hold when you walk beside him. It fits so perfectly in his. He loves the way your hands bury themselves in his hair when you kiss him. He loves how gentle they are when you’re patching him up. He pretends to hate it when you slip your hands under his shirt when you notice how cold they are just so you can press them against his chest and laugh at him when he squirms. Ezra loves that laugh.

He fidgets with the gem. He’s forgotten exactly how long it’s been there, though he remembers the day he got it as if it were yesterday. It was one of your first digs together. The gem was too small to be worth anything. So Ezra pocketed the stone, and it’s become a bit of an extension of himself.

Ezra watches your lips move in sync with your words. He loves your lips. The way they taste against his. The way they trace along his jaw when you’re teasing. Ezra’s kissed you a million times, and yet he always yearns for another.

“My Star,” he’d always say whenever you noted that he could never seem to stop kissing you, “a single touch shared with you could console even the most pained of men. And therefore, what motivation do I have to add to the distance between us?”

My Star. Ezra’s called you that… Forever. Ezra loves your name. But to call you his Star is a privilege only he has. Every time he says it, he remembers the countless times the two of you have laid on the ground, examining the night sky in search of constellations. No matter where you are, you always find a way to stargaze.

Through the window of your shared pod.

Passing glances through your helmet when the air outside isn’t safe to breathe.

But by far, Ezra’s favourite is when the air outside is breathable so you pull him outside to lay on the ground, held in each other’s embrace.

On those nights, you’ll continue to talk about the stars long after Ezra’s coaxed you inside to bed. He loves to fall asleep to the sound of your voice in one ear, the rhythm of your heartbeat in the other. Those nights fill Ezra’s chest with a lightness that washes away years of trauma.

But tonight, the stars are hidden behind a veil of clouds. Rain echoes through the trees outside. It reminds Ezra of the nights you’re curled under threadbare blankets and you’re whispering sweet nothings in Ezra’s ear.

Ezra smiles at this. Rainy days are his favourite. It stresses him that he often can’t work on those days, though in your company, that stress quickly melts away.

Ezra is never happier than when he’s with you.

___

Ten of Cups

“Star,” Ezra calls out to you.

You’re on your knees, elbow-deep in a sticky black mud. “Yeah?” you grunt back, nearly toppling forward into the mud in your distraction.

“The spoils of these pits appear to already have been claimed, and the sun is beginning to set.” Ezra sits back on his knees, pulling his arm from his own mud pit. “I suppose it’s time we get cleaned up for the remainder day.”

Ezra stifles a laugh at your disgusted grimace when you free your arms from the mud. After a brief examination of the sun-streaked sky, you let out a frustrated huff, pushing yourself to your feet.

“Yeah,” you give in. You have to resist the urge to wipe your hands on your clothing. You accept Ezra’s outstretched hand, lacing your fingers in his.

The stream isn’t far away—close enough that its inviting babbling has called out to you and Ezra all day.

Ezra leads you hand-in-hand to the edge of the murky water. He sinks to his knees first, wasting no time in submerging his arm into the icy liquid to wash away the itchy layers of chemically contaminated mud.

With a desperate splash, you follow close behind.

It’s jobs like these that makes Ezra wish gloves were a luxury the two of you could afford. But gloves strong enough to not break down upon contact with the mud would cost a fortune to buy and would require frequent replacements.

And so, after a long day buried in the acidic material, your arms are left itchy and raw. Ezra frantically rubs his forearm back and forth over a rock just below the surface of the water in a desperate attempt to wash himself clean, and, perhaps relieve some of the painful itch. If he notices the blood staining the water, he doesn’t care; in this moment, the temporary relief overpowers the regret that will later come from allowing the rock to break through his skin.

Ezra startles when your hands close around his wrist. Gently, You begin rubbing away the mud with your already clean hands. You’re conscious to take extra care around the steady trickle of blood.

“You’ll only make it worse like that,” you murmur, focusing your attention on making sure no mud is left under Ezra’s fingernails.

“Thank you,” Ezra closes his eyes in pleasure when you begin massaging his raw skin under the cloudy water to remove the last traces of mud.

“Mhm,” you reply absentmindedly and pull his hand from the water.

Ezra stands, hoisting you to your feet and pulling you into your shared pod.

You help each other dry off and spread an ointment over each other’s arms that makes tears of relief spring to Ezra’s eyes. After stripping yourselves free of your dirty clothes, Ezra collapses onto the cot, pulling you into his chest.

You shift until your head is resting on his shoulder and your body is curled around Ezra’s side leaving his arm free to reach what he needs to.

This position makes it difficult for Ezra to wrap his arm around you, but after a long day of work, neither one of you wants to move if he needs to reach something from the rusty bedside table.

You wrap your arms around your lover’s neck. Reflexively, Ezra’s fingers lift to find yours. He silently fidgets with the thin metal band around your finger, which had been returned to its rightful place upon arrival at the pod.

The pads of his fingers trace over the small gem embedded in the metal. Ezra smiles, remembering the cold winter’s day you’d finally said “I do.”

A soft chuckle escapes Ezra’s throat as he recalls the night you’d agreed to marry him, despite the many years you’d spent telling him about your distaste for the idea of being married.

“What’s that about?” you ask, not seeing a reason to laugh.

“I’m so fortunate to have you, Star,” Ezra whispers back, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” You murmur and lean up to press a kiss to Ezra’s jaw, at the same place you always do; the little patch in his scruff, where Ezra seems unable to grow any hair.

You love those spots on either side of his face. “They’re built in places for me to kiss,” you’d always insist whenever Ezra was feeling insecure about his patchy stubble.

“Still?” Ezra asks. “You still love me after all these years?”

“Why not?” You can’t think of a single thing Ezra has ever done that might make you rethink your feelings. Sure, he has his habits that never fail to get on your nerves. But, if anything, that makes you love him all the more.

“You’re not growing exhausted by my presence?”

“How could I ever get bored of you?” You sit up enough to meet Ezra’s gaze. “I love you more than anything. If I didn’t, what reason would I have to follow you on all these jobs and crazy ideas you get to make a living?” You caress Ezra’s cheek with your knuckles. “Ezra, I stay because I love you. Those feelings are never going to change. And, if they do, it will be because I’ve fallen further in love with you. If that’s even possible.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Ezra smiles softly.

You let out a hum of contemplation. “I’m just here for the kisses,” you tease, placing a brief peck on his lips.

Ezra hums contentedly, and you snuggle back into his chest. After a few moments of a loving stillness, Ezra’s fingers find their way back to yours to toy with your ring.

“Do you remember the night I gave this to you?” Ezra whispers, tracing circles over the tiny gem.

“How could I forget?” You whisper back.

___

You finish your reading and lift your eyes to gauge Ezra’s reaction. A small smile tugs at his lips, but he doesn’t respond.

Silently, Ezra rises to his feet, gathering the cards and stowing them back in your bag.

“Lay down,” Ezra commands. With a grunt, he pulls a strange machine from under the cot. You obey, too curious to argue. Ezra shoves the machine to the centre of the floor.

Ezra switches off the lamp, plunging the tent into absolute darkness. “My mother had one of these when I was a child,” Ezra explains, “I had to construct this one from scrap parts, so it’s not as impressive as the one I grew up with.” With a soft click, the machine turns on and the ceiling is decorated with small flecks of light.

Ezra continues to explain, but you’ve already figured it out. “It’s the stars on Wehouf,” you interrupt with a gasp. Wehouf was where you first met Ezra.

Ezra lays on the cot beside you, wrapping you into a firm embrace.

“You built this for me?” you murmur in disbelief. How did he find time to work on this without you noticing?

“Took me two years,” Ezra presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “The majority of the parts I required aren’t easy to come by in the green.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“The entire time I was assembling it, I couldn’t help but meditate over how intensely I feel for you. I never thought I was capable of these feelings. When we first met, you were nothing more than an associate on an endeavour to make a living. I’m not certain when I fell in love,” Ezra’s hand slips under your shirt and he begins tracing gentle circles against your skin with his fingertips. “I don’t think I ever stopped falling. I don’t believe I ever want to. I crave to spend my whole lifetime by your side. I want to chart the view of the stars from every planet, every moon. And I want to do it with your hand in mine.”

“Ezra, I—” You start.

“You could count every single star in the sky, and still only know a fraction of the love I feel for you,” Ezra continues. “And I know you’ve expressed a distaste for it in the past,” Ezra shifts to pull the tiny gem from his pocket. Gently, he slips the metal band around your finger. A perfect fit. “But, I was hoping you’d consider marrying me? I wouldn’t expect it to be legal if that’s not what you want, but—”

“Of course I’ll marry you, Ezra,” You interrupt, shifting to meet his gaze. “I love you more than anything. If it makes you happy, of course, I’ll marry you. And besides, we’re out here alone a solid 98% of the time. So marriage can be whatever we want it to be. Right?”

Ezra breathes a sigh of relief. He wasn’t afraid of you saying no, per se, but he was terrified the question would make you uncomfortable and perhaps cause you to push him away.

“I know I can be an arduous man to love sometimes,” Ezra begins to tear up. “And I still think you deserve better than me. But, you make me exultant beyond any doubt, and you seem content by my side as well. I can’t promise that things will be perfect, because they most certainly won’t. But I will love you eternally, with every fibre of my being. And that, Star, is a promise.”

“Oh, Ezra,” you whisper, “I don’t expect things to always be perfect. I’ve lived with you long enough to know that life will go to shit. A lot. But I’ve also lived with you long enough to know it always ends up okay.” You rest your forehead against Ezra’s. “You deserve more than you think you do. I know you’ve made mistakes. Fuck, I’ve watched you make some seriously questionable decisions. To the point where I sometimes wonder how you’re still alive. But you have more love in this little tuft of hair than most people have in their whole body.” You gently tug on Ezra’s little blond patch of hair to emphasize your point. “And that’s all I care about.” You finish with a brief but passionate kiss.

Ezra doesn’t know how to respond. Tears threaten to escape down his cheeks. “Fuck,” he sobs, pulling you closer until your nose is buried in his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ezra,” you hum.

Your fingers begin to toy with the ring on your finger. “How’d you manage to get this?” Ezra doesn’t even have to see to know what you’re talking about.

“The gem is from one of our first digs together,” He explains. “It was too diminutive to sell, but I couldn’t bring myself to dispose of it. I got it fixed with a ring two planets back.”

“That must’ve cost a fortune,” you say, suddenly feeling a bit guilty that he felt the need to do such a thing to please you. Sufficient jewellers aren’t easy to find this far out, and because of that, it can be quite expensive to so much as repair a simple ring.

“Nearly depleted my personal savings,” Ezra answers. “But I couldn’t think of a superior way to spend it; now whenever my gaze falls upon your hand, I am reminded of our years spent in each other’s presence.”

“You didn’t have to,” you kiss the soft skin at Ezra’s neck. “I’d have married you without it.”

“Do you not like it?” Ezra asks with a touch of panic to his voice.

“Oh, I love it,” you reassure. Ezra visibly relaxes. “I love everything you get for me.” You pull the ring off your finger to inspect it as you talk. It’s a simple band, with just enough width to have room for the gem embedded in the smooth metal. Upon closer examination, you find a tiny engraving inside. ‘I love you, my Star.’ “I love everything you do for me,” you turn your head to admire the speckles of light above you. You return the ring to your finger. “I always will. Just know I don’t expect to be spoiled. I enjoy it, but your love is enough for me.”

“I know, my Star,” Ezra sighs. “I can’t provide you the life of luxury you deserve. I enjoy doing what I can to make up for it.”

“I have everything I want right here.” You snuggle deeper into Ezra’s chest to admire the stars projected across the ceiling.

He doesn’t respond. For a few moments, the only sounds are the rain, the soft whirring of the star machine, and your breaths combined with Ezra’s. You never saw yourself in this position. But Ezra has a way of turning the lives of those around him upside down. And for you, it somehow feels right.

“I love you, my Star.”

“I love you too, Ezra.”

[raendown]

Next up in the follower milestone gift fics is for @FollowingTheRivers, prompt word torpid. 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 1397 Rated: T+ Summary: It wouldn't occur to him until much later just how ready he'd been to trust the one who found him.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Anchor in  the Drift

Maybe, Tobirama thought, if he tried very hard, he could invent a new seal on the spot that would allow him to stand up outside of his own body and carry it to safety. That sounded a great deal like a job for those solid clones he was still working on but not really, that wasn’t entirely what he wanted. What he actually wanted was to close his eyes and just let consciousness swim away from him like it was trying so very hard to do. Unfortunately that was definitely a bad idea at the moment. Very unsafe. Entirely likely to get him killed. 

If only he could muster the energy to care. 

Something grunted nearby and Tobirama gave some thought to a curious hum. Then decided against it. Humming felt like too much effort. The sheer act of living felt like too much effort right now while his head swam wildly between perfect silence and jangling alarm. 

“You’re a hard man to find, Senju.”

Fingers carded through his hair and Tobirama found he was so much more interested in that sensation than any of the other ones he could barely feel anymore anyway. His eyes fell closed and then his eyebrows pinched when that seemed to act as a signal for the fingers to stop. That wasn’t right. He hadn’t meant for them to stop. 

“Uh...alright. So that’s not normal. You good?”

He would be perfectly good if only the fingers would come back to his hair but the very thought of cracking his jaw open to communicate such felt like asking himself to lift a mountain. Instead he whined faintly and hoped that would do. It was hard to remember the last time he’d made any sound even close to a whine over the past decade or more but thankfully whatever or whoever might be attached to those fingers seemed to get the point because a moment later they were there again and Tobirama could only smile happily with his eyes still closed. How nice. 

“Not good. Definitely not good. Look, whatever’s up, you need to live long enough for me to make fun of you for this, okay?” 

Obviously he had no answer for that but as long as he got to enjoy the sensation of being petted like some common housecat he found that he just did not care. Even when the entire weight of his body was suddenly floating, torpid limbs lifted and positioned for him, still he had no thoughts but to admire the pleasant cool sensation of whatever he was being draped across. How lovely just when his body was starting to feel too warm. Clearly the universe had decided to realign itself in order to grant him his every wish. Actually, no, that wasn’t entirely true. The hand in his hair was gone and that was simply unacceptable if he was supposed to be getting everything he wanted. 

For a short time Tobirama drifted, vaguely cognizant of the air rushing past him just a tad too firm to be a pleasant breeze, barely aware that whether his eyes were open or closed the world existed as the same blurry haze. Something might be wrong. It should probably bother him that he couldn’t tell. Mostly the last shreds of his thought processing abilities were taken up by wondering if he’d somehow developed the ability to fly. Now that would be an absolutely fascinating development, one he would need to perform extensive tests on, though just the thought of performing any sort of experiment at the moment made him want to lay down and go to sleep. Was he already laying down? It was hard to tell. 

“Here we go, easy now. Don’t even think about flopping around or something. If you get any more hurt than however much you already are I’ll kill you myself after you’re better.”

Whoever that was they appeared to lack a certain sense of their own irony. Tobirama wanted to laugh but lacked the energy. He settled for mentally composing a rather disjointed speech about how pleasant this person’s voice was, very soothing to listen to. Definitely not helping his urges towards sleep. 

“Tobirama. Can you even fucking hear me?”

“Nnh...”

“Oh thank fuck. You know, I had my own shit to do. I’m tired too. Got my own fucking mission and everything. But no! No, here I am pulling your chestnuts out of the fire and you can’t even roll over to thank me. Fucking hell.” 

It took a few moments of lethargic musing but eventually Tobirama realized he knew that voice. Or, rather, he knew the shape and cadence of those swear words, could have recognized that tone in the soundless vacuum of outer space. Apparently Madara had come to rescue him. That was sweet. It would have been sweeter if he could have done it without the bitching but that was just his way and Tobirama was self aware enough to admit he wouldn't change the man. Well, he was usually pretty self aware. Right at that moment he wasn’t aware of much more than the haze in his veins and the warmth of something tracing along his cheek.

When did they stop moving?

“Back with me again?” Madara’s voice asked him and this time Tobirama found it in himself to hum the affirmative. “Not a single injury on you; this is actual bullshit. I’ve seen all sorts of reactions to chakra exhaustion but this one’s new. You’re more coherent when you’re drunk, for fuck’s sake.”

“Hair.”

“...what?”

“My hair.”

Somewhere above him he could hear the disconnected spluttering that had soothed him off in to dreams more times than anyone could count until finally Madara gave a violent snort. “More words, dumb ass. I don’t know what the hell you’re on about.”

Annoyed, Tobirama reached deep for any remaining tatters of energy. It was just enough to form what he hoped was a very irritated frown. 

“Liked it. Touched my hair. Again.” As soon as the words were out his muscles liquified and his jaw snapped shut, utterly drained. The trained shinobi in the back of his mind piped up at last to note smugly that he had, at least, completed his mission. Unfortunately he’d also run across not one but two squads of resistance on his way out of Lightning Country and fighting when he was already exhausted was never fun. If he tried he could almost recall the way it felt to drain the very last of his chakra and hit the ground in tandem with the man he’d just killed. If Madara hadn’t found him - well, there was really no point in thinking about it. No doubt he’d be getting a lecture on the subject later anyway.

It would be worth it, though, because Madara’s hands were back in his hair and if he had the energy Tobirama would have purred like one of Izuna’s damn cats. Even with the low grumbling diatribe that accompanied the petting it was soothing, grounding. Tobirama couldn’t even bring himself to care that he was being so open about something he enjoyed, a vulnerability neither of them could easily afford even after several years of marriage. 

Time had already lost all meaning so the fact that hours or minutes could have gone by didn’t even occur to him. Consciousness came and went but Tobirama couldn't tell the difference. He definitely noticed when his chakra finally started regenerating itself enough that he fell in to a true sleep, waking probably too many hours later to the rumble of Madara snoring. Which meant he’d fallen asleep sitting up. He only snored when he slept sitting up. It took a shamefully long time for Tobirama to realize he was sprawled out on cold ground with his torso leaning back against the other man’s chest, thick fingers buried in his hair with the sort of grip that spoke of an unwillingness to let go. 

Why, he wondered, were they sitting alone in a dark cave? 

“One of us did something stupid,” he muttered to the silence around them. Madara’s snore jumped in time with whatever he was dreaming about and Tobirama sighed, eyes sliding closed again. “You can tell me about it later.” 

For now he was tired, limbs like molasses, more than happy to lie here without moving for just a few more hours. 

[kingofthewilderwest]

This hasn’t been a good year for me first I was stalked then I lost someone who I thought was a friend because my mental health issues caused me to impulsively lash out at people I been apologizing and apologizing they refuse to listen to me all they told me was get outside help. The thing is I was there for them when they needed me but when I needed them they abandon me I am autistic and have trouble regulating my emotions I explained that to them when they told me that I keep lashing out at people even after I apologize for it. :( what should I do? Should I just just keep spamming how sorry I am and that I will keep my mouth shut and not lash out at people anymore I just want them to like me again I don’t like lashing out at people I have no control over that why can’t they understand? How many times do I need to cry in their inbox until they realize how sorry I am and that this time I won’t lash out impulsively.

Hello, friend. <3 I'm really sorry for the struggle and pain you are going through. That's tough. My heart reaches out for you. I was in an extremely similar experience once (I'll talk about the experience and results below), so I both care about your situation, and I hope my message can help you with your choices moving forward. My phrasing might sound blunt, but every word is written with love, and I will give comfort through the end, so bear with me. Sorry that I suck at brief. XD

From the way you’ve described your situation, you’ve already been messaging friend(s) repeatedly explaining your actions, giving apologies, etc. My answer is under the assumption you’ve been sending repeated messages. Here’s the unfortunate kicker.

You need to stop messaging them. Period.

If you want them to feel better and feel better about you, you need to give them space for a decently long period of time without breaking that silence once, it doesn’t matter if your desired topic is helpfully explaining how you tick, apologizing, or talking about something entirely unrelated to the drama.

I know that's probably the hardest thing to do. I know for me, when I was in a situation like this, every fiber of my being *SCREAMED* at me to try to make things right by messaging again. I was so terrified I couldn’t leave it alone. I understand how scary it can be for someone to not listen to your apology. I understand the drive to get someone to understand your circumstance for why you messed up. I understand the overpowering pressure of guilt for having done something wrong and the itch to keep acting until I make it right. But you can't make it right by messaging someone repeatedly.

While your intent is reparation, your result is harassment. I'm so sorry to say this, but if you’re messaging like that, you are continuing to inflict pain and make matters worse because your constant messaging gives them no relief. It’s like constantly picking a scab to make it bleed again rather than letting it heal without touching it. If you pick that scab too much, you’ll lose more blood and you’ll get a scar. Lots of people, after being hurt, need time to process their emotions before they can be comfortable resuming a chill conversation. So long as you keep acting like this, they aren't going to want to listen to you, and your actions are going to make them wish they weren't around you. They’ll see you in a worse light because if you can’t give them time and space to heal themselves and you can’t stop fixating on past events, then they see that you’re not handling the situation well.

Now. If you do talk to them again, after that *LONG* break, there are several things you have to do. Ask if it’s okay to talk first and be clear it’ll be a one-time event. Be rational, be calm, be objective, accept responsibility for yourself without trashing yourself or sounding desperate for their response, and make sure you acknowledge their feelings and experiences as much as your own. Accept responsibility for yourself in your words. Make sure you listen to them, too, and respect their thoughts. 

I know that’s hard to do. I can get scared, tongue-tied, and emotional in conversations like this. The way I get around that is writing down what I’m going to say beforehand. That way, I can spend several days carefully tweaking my words so they’re optimally diplomatic (and have someone else check me if I need a second perspective). Now I have a script I can follow that can prevent me from tumbling into babbling emotion. “I’m sorry, I’ll keep my mouth shut, I just want you to like me again” will turn more people away, unfortunately. People don’t trust that because it sounds like you don’t have control of yourself, which makes them think more bad things could happen. Level-headed but kind discussion of the issue is essential; it shows you are *capable* of handling the situation. Showing capability helps engender trust. Also, please make it clear to your friend(s) that once this convo is done, the goal is to move on.

Note that your friend can say “no” if you ask to talk. And that’s okay. If they say “no,” leave it at “no,” and don’t try to get a “yes.” Your friend can still say “no” to points you make during your conversation. Those aren’t the words you want to hear but you have to accept them if they come. Stay humble. Do not try to get them to fully be in sync with you because that may be impossible and only hurt everyone more. All you can do is present yourself at your best; after that, it is their choice how they respond, and their responses must be accepted. If they are bitches, that’s on them, and you’re better off not being friends with shitty-ass uncaring bitches. If they choose not to be friends with you for understandable reasons, it hurts, but it’s valid; we do not have to be friends with every person we meet, even if they’re cool. And if they choose to forgive you, which they could too, then you guys have a basis to move forward again without reopening cans of worms. I do want to reassure you: I’ve had plenty of conversations like this go well and friendships get repaired. <3 It can be done.

Now. You said you feel your friends aren’t helping you at your time of need. I understand the pain of supporting a friend but the friend doesn’t reciprocate at the time I need them most. This was hard for me to learn, but: a friend is not obligated to help you. Yes, good friends will help when they can. Yes, if you’re only helping them and they’re nevvvvvvver helping you, that’s a one-sided relationship and that’s a bust. But healthy relationships also have boundaries and “no”s. It’s not a contractual obligation to help a friend through everything. Plus, not everyone has the skillset to help you for every need. Friends who are not used to neurodivergence might not know how to handle neurodivergent-specific challenges (that’s what I’ve experienced with my own support networks). You can explain it and hopefully they’ll get better about understanding how you tick, though. There’s even types of friends who understand how you tick but still not want to be around it, and sometimes that’s because they have to protect their own health. They can understand you lash out but still need to leave to heal themselves because lashing out hurts them, and they don’t have the energy or emotions to help or listen to you right after. They have enough on their plate trying to keep themselves going without assisting someone else too. Those things can happen. You may find out what type of friends yours are later.

And I know it’s really hard to regulate emotions... I’m saying this as someone who had extreme issues regulating my emotions due to neurodivergence and mental illness, albeit of different kinds... but ultimately mental health is an explanation, not an excuse, and you are still responsible for the results when you are cognizant enough to act well enough. You are valid for being autistic and that is not a problem, that is who you are period, and if they don’t respect that, that’s their issue. Explaining why you act like you do is a first step. It’s good to communicate and I think it’s good you want to your friends to know why it’s hard. But you do have to work at getting better with your treatment of people, too. Sometimes we do things outside of our control. Sometimes these will never be in our control. But some things will be in our control. Part of our responsibility as a friend is to not just admit we hurt someone in the past when we’re at our worst and least controllable, but make an effort, as we can, to prevent these things in the future, as we can. Figure out prevention tactics. Figure out ways your friends can be equipped and prepared if something happens. Find professionals who can help you with emotional regulation. And so forth.

Your friends do have a point about getting outside help. I love supporting my friends and helping them through emotionally dark times, but sometimes a friend’s mental health struggles are out of my abilities and I can’t be expected to be the one to handle it. I cannot help my friend with heart surgery because I am not a heart surgeon; likewise, sometimes I can’t help my friends with mental illness ailments because I am not a professional psychologist. If it is within your budget, this may be a valuable resource for you that will help you, your friends, and more.

If you’re anything like I was, what I said may make you want to go into another round of apologizing, but before you do that (you shouldn't! you can't!!!!), I want to explain what happened to me. This involves me talking about the worst period of my life, the worst mistakes I ever made, and the worst legacy I'll have to contend with. I haven't talked about it on tumblr because I haven't wanted people to misread me or judge me, but the truth is, those old mistakes are a defining characteristic of my everyday life because of how thoroughly I fucked up and hurt someone else by my desire to "make things right."

I was eighteen and sharing a dorm room with my high school significant other. We broke up several months into the school year. At first things were okay, but then our friendship started to slide. We both did foolish things and wrongdoings against each other. The result was my ex needed breathing space to heal, whereas I felt I needed to heal by coming closer to them. As you can see, these are opposites, and it... didn’t work. It resulted in me pestering them and them wanting to get further from me.

I was also suicidal at the time. I had undiagnosed ADHD and rejection sensitive dysphoria and maybe more, and all that put me in the worst psychological state of my life. My emotions were more powerful than I could control. I had no coping mechanisms yet. My diary entries sometimes don’t sound... sane... from that time period. Being suicidal, I begged my ex for help, and my ex said “no”. My ex was rude and cold (understandable... hard to be polite when you’re stressed), but still, she had a right to say “no.” No one is obligated to do anything, but I was extremely emotional at her denial. Terrified for my life, I tried telling my ex that I had helped HER through HER problems when SHE was depressed, why the fuck wouldn’t she help me with my low point? I felt like she abandoned me and I told her so. I was intending to suggest she was breaking a promise and being an uncaring, unfaithful friend... but my words came out sounding like I was guilt tripping. My friend felt emotionally abused, forced into a situation where someone was threatening their life if she didn’t do what I said.

That’s a lot of pressure on someone, a roommate screaming at her that she had to do X or someone would die. It’s a cruel thing to shove someone into. I did that. I did it accidentally, my only intentions were making amends and saving my life, but I’m still 200% responsible for the results. It destroyed her psychologically, and ten years later, I don’t think she’s fully recovered.

When I recovered from the worst of my mental illness lapse, I felt sick to my stomach about how much my emotional responses harmed her. Thus began my rounds of apologizing. At first she coldly “tolerated” it, but I couldn’t leave it alone because it didn’t feel like closure. She outright told me she would never forgive me and that made me more desperate. About once every six months for the next three years, I tried talking to her. She felt harassed. She increasingly hated me. Soon, she thought I was stalking her, and sent the start of what could’ve become legal action against me. One time, I tried talking to her about something entirely unrelated (I was trying to save a friend who was having panic attacks and my ex was unknowingly responsible for the panic attacks), I panicked, I grabbed her arm, she threatened to call the police on me, had the teacher drive her home from class, and the next thing I knew, we were both in the university’s Office of Student Conduct. Oof.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

For the rest of my life, I will have to contend with the fact I fucked up the person I loved the most, and that the best thing I could ever do to help her was... to... leave... her... be.

If I had let my friend breathe after my first apology, if I had given my friend space to process through her hurt emotions until she no longer felt hurt, we might have been able to rekindle a friendship. But I never gave her the time to heal. I never respected her “no, stop talking to me.” My apologies were intended to make her feel better because I knew I was hurting her, my apologies were intending to say “I’ll never hurt you again!” But instead I kept digging a deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper hole.

I realize this is a dismal story. I don’t want to scare you. I want you to read this private story of my pained heart to understand what happens when I let desperation do all the talking. I want to share it to show how much I care for your situation. And I want you to understand that... after I learned taking a step back... I had radically better results with the friends I got into conflicts with. It took a ton of effort and work to retrain my conduct, but it worked, and I’ve found stabler and happier and relatively drama-free relationships. And if I fuck up for some reason mental-health-wise, it’s usually a single conversation and done to get us back on track.

I fuck up, but I’ll never fuck up like that again, never ever EVER, nowhere CLOSE. And that’s a... happy ending in its own right, yeah?

I do believe in you. I believe that not every story has to end like the one between my ex and me. I want to give you that hope. I believe you have a good heart and you definitely want things better. You wouldn’t have messaged me (and I believe... others... on tumblr?) if this didn’t matter to you. And anyone who wants to do something about a problem has the starting kernel of Betterness happening. I believe you can find more peace. Maybe it won’t come right away and maybe there’ll be rocky points, but life can become better, relationships can become better. There are ways, even with mental health struggles, to find that comfortable equilibrium again.

I wish you the best, friend. Take care. <3 Rooting for you. I apologize if any of my words ended up coming out wrong accidentally. I really do hope you find some relief in this situation. <3

[candied-peach]

ao3: “how bad can i be?” rating: T warnings: food, remus typical stuff, age regression, sympathetic remus, sympathetic deceit, creativitwins genre: fluff description: Roman ends up with babysitting duty.

A knock on the door drags Roman from his work and he frowns, looking up from the impassioned scribbled ideas for Thomas's next video.

"Yes?" He calls, willing the irritation out of his voice. He did forget to say he'd be working all day at breakfast, after all.

"Roman, are you busy?" Deceit's strained voice comes through the door. Roman's eyes widen in surprise. Deceit never seeks him out. Never seeks anyone out, really. They've accepted him, but it's still tentative, especially from Patton's side. He tends to stay in his room or hang out with Remus.

Speaking of Remus...

When he opens the door, Deceit stands there, flustered, one gloved hand raised to knock again. Remus clings to Deceit's side, a stuffed octopus slung under one arm and kraken-printed pacifier stuck firmly in his mouth.

Oh.

"Thomas needs me," Deceit explains breathlessly. "One of his friends is having a hard time with their parents, and Thomas, as you know, has a hard time with-" He gestures to himself. "But Remus is regressing, and he can't be left alone. Can you watch him for me? It shouldn't take more than an hour."

"Of course," Roman answers, belated. How hard could watching his brother be? He might even be able to get his work done. "Would you like that, Remus?" He asks, addressing his brother. Remus shyly nods, before looking up at Deceit with distress.

"Leaving?" Remus asks, popping out his pacifier. Deceit brushes some of the hair out of Remus's eyes.

"I have to help Thomas, little kraken," he says. "Just for a little while, and then I'll be back. Okay?" Remus looks like he's pondering for a moment, before he nods.

"Okay," he says. "Come back fast."

"I will," Deceit promises. "As fast as I can." He turns back toward Roman. "He isn't allowed to watch the movies he normally likes when he's regressed, but he asks for them anyway. He's an unholy terror if he's bored. He likes coloring and it usually turns out a little gory, but praise it anyway. He can have snacks, but only edible ones. No deodorant sticks." Deceit's nose wrinkles. He looks past Roman into his room, furnished with pristine red, white, and gold, then frowns. "Maybe you should watch him in his room. Or mine."

"It'll be fine!" Roman dismisses with a wave of his hand. "I've watched Virgil before when he regressed. How bad could he be?"

A funny look passes over Deceit's face, but it's gone before Roman can properly examine it.

"Sure," he says. He passes Remus's hand over to Roman's. "Remember, I'll be back soon," he says. "Behave for your brother, Remus. Okay?"

"Okay," Remus says, around his pacifier. Spit slides down his chin and Roman has to hide a wince of disgust. "I'll be good."

As soon as Roman shuts the door behind them, an enormous grin comes across Remus's face, the kind that bodes no good for any of the parties involved.

Roman's heart sinks down to his toes. What have I gotten myself into? He thinks.

"Revolution!" Remus shouts, and charges toward Roman's bed, stuffed octopus flapping madly in one hand.

"Whoa there!" Roman exclaims, reaching a hand and snagging Remus's sleeve, jolting him to a stop. "Where do you think you're going?" Remus cocks his head to one side, looking at Roman like he's an idiot.

"The bed," he says, as if he's talking to a baby. His pacifier dangles by its clip.

"Why?" Roman asks. Remus grins and Roman discovers that he has a gap in his teeth when he's regressed.

"Jump," Remus says, cackling. Before Roman can process what he's just said, he tugs free of Roman's grip and scrambles on the bed, bouncing on his knees.

"Get off the bed!" Roman demands, all too cognizant of Remus's dirty boots now making their way over each and every inch of his perfectly pristine prince-sized bed. Remus sticks out his tongue.

"No," he says. No longer content with bouncing on his knees, Remus clambers to his feet and begins to jump, nearly hitting his head on Roman's oversized canopy. Roman wracks his brain, desperate. Think, Roman, think, he chastises himself. Aha! He conjures up an enormous Disney coloring book, one with princesses and villains, and waves it enticingly in the air.

"I have a coloring book for you," he cajoles. Remus pauses, glancing his way, interest brightening his eyes.

"Coloring?" Remus repeats in a hopeful tone. Roman nods, trying not to seem too desperate.

"And a jumbo pack of crayons," he says, pulling a fifty-count box out of thin air. Remus's eyes really light up at that, and Roman has to smile, even if his bedspread is now covered in Remus's boot prints.

"Color!" Remus cheers, hopping carelessly off the bed in a way that scares ten years off Roman's nonexistent life span. He barely stumbles, though, and makes his way toward Roman, his stuffed octopus now perched on one shoulder, plush limbs looped around his neck.

"Here," Roman says, conjuring up a desk and chair. "You color. I work on stuff for Thomas." Remus's face droops a little at his last remark, but he accepts the coloring book and crayons willingly enough, clambering up in his new seat.

"Hey, Ro Ro," Remus interrupts him a few minutes later. Roman looks up from his idea pad, biting back his frustration. This was supposed to be the perfect distraction for Remus. How could it work if Remus kept interrupting? "Which red is good for blood?" He holds up a handful of red crayons.

"Uh, that one," Roman says, picking one at random and hiding his shudder of revulsion. It's not Remus's fault he is the way he is, he reminds himself.

"I like to color," Remus chatters. "I like to draw too. One time I drew everyone, you and Dee Dee and Lo and Virgey and even Pat! On a big paper-" He stretches his arms out comically wide to demonstrate. "And at the bottom I drew lots of skulls. Like a big pile of skulls." He beams.

"That sounds...delightful," Roman manages to say, narrowly avoiding an inadvertent Deceit summons. Wouldn't that be awkward. Unbothered, Remus nods happily, coloring away. The tip of his tongue sticks out between his teeth.

"I'm coloring Ariel," he says. "And a kraken comes and eats her up." He shows Roman his progress. Even regressed to a child, his art skills are nothing to sneeze at, Roman thinks. If only they weren't quite so...gory.

"Well done!" He praises. Remus practically glows, and Roman feels a pang of guilt stab him. Remus really is doing his best after all. It's not his fault that his imagination runs to- well, that, even when a child.

"Would you like a snack?" Roman asks. Remus nods eagerly.

"Deodorant!" He chirps. Roman shakes his head, alarm bells ringing in his head at the sight of the pout forming on Remus's mouth.

"Dee said you couldn't have deodorant," he says, cheerfully passing the blame to Remus's primary caregiver. "Edible snacks, kiddo. Do you have any favorites?"

"Goldfish!" He says, excited. The brewing squall seems to have passed, much to Roman's relief. "I like biting off their heads!" Of course you do, Roman thinks as he conjures up a sippy cup full of strawberry juice and a plastic bowl full of goldfish. Remus accepts both, cramming a handful of goldfish into his mouth as he colors. A few droplets of juice stain his coloring page and Roman expects him to tear up over it, but instead, he incorporates them into his artwork.

"More blood," Remus announces brightly. With an indulgent smile, Roman gets back to his own work. See? He tells the Deceit in his mind. He's not so bad. Sure, there has been a minor hiccup or two. I have to wash my covers, for instance. But really, he's not at all like you portrayed him to-

"Look, Ro Ro, I can fly!" Remus announces from the top of the wardrobe and Roman's heart stops.

"Remus!" He shouts, diving toward the wardrobe just as Remus bends his knees and jumps. With heart-stopping slowness, Roman makes it just in time for his brother to land on his back, driving him to the floor with a painful whoosh of breath.

"You got in the way," Remus accuses, disappointed.

"Get off me," Roman says. Reluctantly, Remus rolls off him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Roman tries to still his frenetically beating heart as he glares at his brother.

"That was very dangerous," he says, breathless. "Don't do that. You could have been seriously hurt." Remus shrugs, unconcerned.

"Not really," he says, popping his pacifier in and out of his mouth. "Dee Dee says I'm like a bouncy ball."

"Be that as it may," Roman says. "Dee is not here right now. I am. Please don't jump off the furniture. Why don't you finish coloring?"

"I did finish," Remus says. "You didn't see 'cause you were too busy with your dumb work." He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, scowling.

Another splinter of guilt wedges itself in Roman's heart.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry, Remus. You're right. I'm supposed to be watching you and I'm not doing a very good job, am I."

"Better than Pat," Remus says. Roman wonders at the story there, but decides to ignore it for the time being.

"Would you like to watch something?" He tries. "Just me and you, no work involved?" He expects Remus to ask for one of his favorites when he's older, like Repo! or perhaps a true crime documentary. Remus looks up shyly.

"Finding Nemo?" He requests. Roman smiles.

"Sounds good to me," he says. "Come on, let's make a blanket fort and watch it that way."

"And then I have more snack?" Remus asks hopefully. Roman laughs.

"Sure," he says. "Then you can have another snack."

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @bexxbeauty @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @matthindavick @killjoy-3000 @littlestliu