#i cannot stress enough it is not good. its just warm and filling

[imaginariumgeographica]

Do not make fun of me for this but I never appreciate how much tim's is my safe food until im in a country that doesn't have tim's

[seineko]

it's fluff but minors still do not interact!

note: it's extremely extremely extremely self indulgent (so please proceed with that it mind) and diluc is probably a bit ooc here but i really did think he'd open up a bit more and have fun a bit more with his partner. cheeky diluc isn't written enough. he was absolute chaos as a kid, i won't believe for one second that he did not at least have 1% of it hidden deep inside his heart.

my grandma just gave me a oil massage after so many years and i just felt like i was in actual heaven, that's where this idea stemmed from. i wanted diluc to have someone relieve his stress too so here i am, writing a drabble about it because he deserves everything in this world.

diluc did not hate his hectic days as much as he did before.

they still suck of course, but you make them much, much better.

the first time it happened he was, understandably, confused.

the memory was pretty vivid.

despite being tired, sleep seemed really far away. diluc slowly tried to untangle himself from you, trying his best not to disturb you.

"'iluc?" which was evidently not successful as your half opened eyes stared at him, confusion clear in them.

"go back to sleep, love," he whispered softly. continuing when you did not, clearly waiting for him to answer, "i just cannot sleep, thought some fresh air might help."

yawning, you sat up and bend across him towards the cupboard beside his side of the bed and grabbed a glass jar of what looked like oil.

"come 'ere," you sat on the edge of the bed, patting on the side of it, indicating him to sit down in front of you. voice still thick with sleep, you continued, '"this will help."

diluc couldn't help but be confused as he walked towards to sit where you told him to, watching you pour the oil from the jar into its threaded metal lid, carefully wiping around the edges of both with a tissue that was a constant at the side of your bed. ("you don't know when you come across an emotional part of a story," you had said. "better be prepared than to have my snot all over my clothes.")

"help me warm it a bit, please," voice a bit more sober, you hovered the lid filled with oil in front of him as he sat down.

"what is this?" diluc asked as he regulated a bit of warmth around the lid in his hand to warm it up.

"it's coconut oil," you replied taking back the lid after you probably deemed it to be warm enough. "my amm- i mean my grandma used to massage my hair with warm coconut oil regularly. one massage from her hands and my fatigue completely disappeared."

diluc stared at the smile on your face, heart fluttering a bit at how warm your voice sounded.

"turn around," applying the oil around your fingers, you gripped his scalp to turn his head around and rubbed them through his tresses, applying a bit of pressure on his scalp as they combed through.

oh.

oh!

this is what you meant.

the gentle firmness of your fingers massaging his entire scalp, applying a bit more pressure at just the right places had him practically melt into the floor.

stress slowly seemed to release from his body as he let his head fall backwards barely on your lap, most of it on the pajamas pooling around it, a embarrassing whimper leaving his lips as just at that moment, your fingers hitting a newer still tensed spot.

a small giggle left you and he couldn't help the small upward curl of his own lips as he looked at the upside down laugh on your face.

"does it feel good?" you asked him as his eyes slowly closed on their own accord, hands constantly changing places around all of his scalp.

"mn," he let out as a reply. if it was in the present, a bit of mischief would take over him and he would add something along the lines, "this is probably what people call heaven."

your hands would completely freeze in his head and he wouldn't need to open his eyes to know that you were flustered.

but you weren't there yet.

he did change pretty drastically compared to when he was a kid, but the childishness and the mischievous streak was still a part of him, no matter how small or how deeply buried in the corner of him they were. it only ever came back in front of you now.

"there is a secret to this process, though," he hummed in question at that sudden talk. "magic!"

he opened his eyes to take a look at you as you said that, a small smile still present on his face, "magic?"

you nodded, "my hands are now magical," combing the front tresses of his hair to pull it back into the rest of it, you continue, chuckling a bit at what seemed to be nostalgia, "grandpa used to say that when you give the massage to someone you really love, your hands turn magical."

diluc felt his ears and his neck burn.

"then i'm glad to be one that can experience them," he pushed his arms up to gently pull your head a bit towards himself and planted a kiss on your forehead.

pulling back, the flutter in his heart stayed the same despite the change in surroundings. your hands more precise at massaging the exact spot on his head, but still just as gentle.

his head now cradled between your naked thighs, touching the buttons of his shirt that you were wearing.

you were humming a song that he couldn't quite remember the name of, but did remember it being a favourite of your grandmother's.

"you know," diluc said after the song reached its end, before you could begin another. "i know what your grandfather meant now."

at the questioning hum, he continued, smile widening infinitesimally as a bit of mischief did run through him this time, "your hands do seem pretty magical."

"diluc!"

©2023 by seineko @ tumblr

[uriurijihoonie]

✨ when you look me in the eyes, and tell me that you love me, everything's alright + lee seokmin

"Noodles? Really, love?"

You frowned as you glare at your boyfriend in front of your screen while slurping through your noodles, "Hey, it's been a while! Give me a break."

"And besides, really, you're going to scold me right now?" You pouted as you set aside your noodle cup, shifting your eyes from your video call with Seokmin across the screen to the opened document on your laptop.

"Noooo~" Seokmin whined, making you chuckle as you saw from your periphery that he adjusted himself to 'watch' you better. "I just miss you and I'm worried."

The longing in his voice made you stop from reading your notes and turned your attention back to him, "I miss you too, love. I'm sorry, hm?"

You heard Seokmin chuckle before shaking his head, "No need to say sorry, hm? I understand, okay?" He stated with that warm smile on his face that you can't but sigh lovingly towards your boyfriend.

You've both been busy with academic stuff since Finals week are fast approaching; constant outputs being demanded on your every major, quizzes to take during classes, and the need to review for your major exams. With all these responsibilities on both sides, you and Seokmin haven't been spending time together, just the occasional hugs whenever you see each other across campus, calls and texts that are also minimized with the constant good morning and good night texts. If you remember correctly, it's almost a month since you had last a proper date.

You're still doing some last minute review for your presentation tomorrow, meanwhile Seokmin had finished all his pending tasks. Missing your boyfriend's presence, you took initiative to have a call with him tonight, though you're feeling sorry since you still have work to do.

"It's okay. Besides, I really like watching you work, anyway. Win-win for me!" Seokmin exclaimed with a wink that made you laugh when you called earlier.

"Now, don't mind me! Go do your work, love! Fighting! I'm just here if you need anything, okay?" He then flashed you one of his smiles that you truly love, making you smile back, and goofily formed a heart above your head.

You were about to shift your gaze to your working file yet Seokmin called for your name, "Y/N, love?"

"Hmm?" You hummed. You were somehow taken aback with how Seokmin looks at you, and even though you're a screen away, his gaze filled with love never fails to reach your heart, and you feel your heart calms enough with its warmth.

"I love you. You'll always have me, hmm? So go do your thing, my love," Seokmin just smiled softly towards you as you felt tears prick your eyes, partnered with his gaze still holding the same love, adoration, and warmth from years ago.

"I love you more," you whispered, wishing that he heard it despite but when his eyes turned to crescents from grinning, you knew.

--

"You don't really have to go, though," You mumbled, then you felt Seokmin just laughed at what you said with the way you felt his body shake against yours.

"Should I just go then?" Seokmin asked to which you immediately shook your head no, tightening your arms around him.

You didn't expect your boyfriend to go to your house the next day. He didn't even mentioned he will when you're on call last night; you were just called by your mom saying you have a visitor and the next thing you knew, it was your boyfriend in the flesh, and you haven't let go of him since.

"You know I can't go on a date with you today, right?" You asked as you leaned back to look at him, in case he forgot that today's your presentation; your papers still scattered on your work desk, formal top attire for you to wear still hanging on the back of your chair.

"I know, baby," Seokmin just leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead, "I'm here to be your moral support, actually."

When he mentioned those words, you felt the same prick of tears from last night, only this time, you cannot hide it from him. The stress and pressure you're feeling for your upcoming presentation seem to dissipate with just his presence on screen last night. What more with his presence in person?

Seokmin just chuckled and immediately caressed the skin under your eyes, "Aw, baby, don't cry, I know I'm the best boyfriend ever-- Ow!"

"Heh! Shoo!" The sweet atmosphere was broken when you slightly punched his chest, to which you earned a laugh from your boyfriend. You let go of him and went to your closet to fix yourself for the day.

--

Always true to his word, Seokmin really was there to be your all-around support. While you were changing, he fixed your bedroom and work desk. He was also the one who fetched your lunch from your mother outside your room so you won't be distracted with your momentum. He also helped you with last minute reviews and revisions for your presentation.

All that's left is to wait for the time of your presentation. Though you feel like you were ready as you scan your information in your head, you still can't help but feel nervous and jittery. Good thing your presentation will be done online, less nervousness and fear to make a mess.

You didn't notice that you've been rocking your legs nonstop, partnered with your constant deep sighs, until you felt Seokmin's hand hold yours. You looked at him as you felt his eyes hold yours.

You were just looking at each other. You feel you look like a fool with all the nervous jitters but Seokmin was just there, looking at you lovingly with a soft smile on his face, caressing your hand that he's holding, placing it on his lap.

"I love you, y/n," It's too soft, too quiet, yet you heard it loud and clear. Just then, you didn't know tears had fallen from your eyes until you felt Seokmin's warmth on your hands leave yours and went to your face.

He immediately pulled you into his arms, albeit the difficult position with you on your computer chair and him sitting on the bedside, still, it didn't defeat the comfort Seokmin's hugs were giving you.

"You'll do great, okay? I've seen you last night and today and I know you'll ace it, my love. And I'm here. It will be alright," Seokmin whispered as he gently rubbed your back and press soft kisses on your temple.

-----

A/N: hi, it's been too long. Still trying to get it back.

lyrics prompt list found here! requests are closed for the meantime.

[tsp-narrator-ask]

any tips on how to get out of burnout? I want to bury my head in some sand like an ostrich.

“Oh dear… I apologize getting back to you so late my anonymous asker, you see I fell into a bit of a burnout my self recently. But I do have some advice! Prepare for a tangent below.”

“First things first… to get out of burn out you have to try to avoid burn out. I know that may sound silly but the main cause of burn out is over working yourself, mentally, physically, or both! And that’s never good for any one.”

“There is no way to properly push yourself out of burn out… some times you have to just let it take its course. But remember it’s good to take breaks”

“Try not to see it as burn out but a chance to refuel and regroup yourself!”

“Take care of yourself, have yourself relax, you like tea? Make yourself some tea, take a nice warm shower or bath, take a nap, watch some thing that’ll make you laugh, spend time with some one you enjoy. Do some thing you love just because you can and because you deserve too.

“Remember you are a human being with wants and needs.”

“What else… oh I know! Alright a cluttered room means a cluttered mind! If your room is messy or your work space is, it may make it more difficult for you for you to focus. try putting some thing on like music or an audio series while you work or clean, I can even suggest a few if you’d like! that is if you can focus on multiple things at once… oh and remember to open the shades! Get some natural sunlight into your room or work space if you can.”

“If your burnt out when creating art, try drawing some thing for fun not for your project but some thing just for you, burnt out from writing? Try venting into a google doc or write some thing fun away from your main project! The great thing with both of these ideas is that taking some time off from the main idea may give you ideas to put back into your main focus again!”

“Try to set up a small reward system for yourself, for some people they work better with rewards when a challenge is presented. Try telling yourself “if I finish this objective then my prize can Be-“ and insert what ever that prize may be, time to watch tv? Time to relax? But yourself a pack of stickers or some thing else small that will fill you with joy! Time to spend with your friends? What ever the prize may be use that as incentive for yourself!…”

“BUT THIS IS IMPORTANT! Never use basic human needs as a “prize” if you need to eat, drink, shower, ect then those shouldn’t be prizes”

“Dearest readers I cannot stress this enough your human needs are NEEDS for a reason. Take care of yourself for me won’t you? And take care of you for you.”

Now… I hope at least some of this advice may help you, please remove your head from the dirt! Bask in the sunlight above! Know that your trying your best and your best is good enough.

Sincerely your narrator

[asneakystraykitten]

Overflowing Paper Cup

Rengoku x Depressed Pillar Reader

People... are like cups of water.

Never are the waters at peace- always in motion and rippling against its sides.

Some with powerful mental fortitude have thick stone walls surrounding clear waters.

Liars have murky waters, encased in strangely shaped cups.

Those who are sensitive... have thin paper walls. Like a normal paper cup.

And those who feel like they're drowning, find their waters seeping into wet paper and cruelly overflowing, reflected in their teary expressions.

...so I ask.

Why am I like this?

I remember, in a watery haze of stress and trembling hands, the painful sting within my chest. The ominous instinct of doom and mounting guilt as I look into the life eyes of a small girl at my feet. Then at the pile of bloody corpses stacked above her- half eaten.

...Why was I so late?

A crouched figure loomed behind the pile, the distinct cracking of limbs and tearing flesh pattered against the tiny hut. It had light blue skin as if it was suffocating, reddish eyes with deep bags under its eyes. Blood pooled down the front of its clothes, gaze absent as if itself did not understand the situation.

I breathed in, forcing my shoulders to fall and settled these useless hands over the hilt. In a quick moment, the smooth motion of a blade sliced apart its neck, barely any resistance in its vertebrate.

.. it didn't change anything.

With a tired nod to the watchful crow, it cawed in approval and spread its wings. Mission accomplished.

The deadened look in that little girl's eyes. Blood coated her hair and congealed against a pale cheek. Her lips were parted, a permanent expression of shock forever immortalised on her face.

Even as purple blooms covered my vision, I couldn't shake away the stressful feeling.

It clung to me like a parasite, a mental bacteria that couldn't be washed away.

These hands! Dirty! Unhelpful!

The memories and thoughts cycled around and around in an endless loop. As reality distorted my mind, I couldn't help but silently weep.

It began with a soft voice, "My dear child, what troubles you?"

Why must people ask these questions?

My eyes joined my heart's turmoil with gleeful vengeance. As body betrayed mind, one collapsed in shame and guilt because it failed.

Water was overflowing. It rushed up the thin walls and easily trampled over my lungs. A strangled cough was all I could manage as my throat constricted. Salty tears were falling like fake stars.

Each bearing a little more despair. A little more shame.

Futilely, I blinked the tears away. Again and again I tried.

...For what?

I'm weak. I couldn't save that little girl. I wasn't fast enough. What's the point of being good in "protection" when there's nothing to protect?

People... are like paper cups.

I just happen to be the worst in quality. And terrible at everything else too. Hooray.

But how do you turn these indescribable feelings filled with so much self-loathing, guilt and incompetence into mere words? How do I share such a personal thing, when my body physically cannot respond to my own mind in its wish for a cry of help?

I laughed. It was a pathetic laugh. Low and airless, mouth curling into a shape so despicable it was satisfying in its destruction.

"Everything is-" terrible. Bad. Colourless. Tasteless.

It seemed my lips don't want to work any more. I'm sorry.

"Fine." He finished, eyes soft with a stinging amount of concern. Well. I did just break down at a silly question.

I should've kept them deeper. Close the lid.

I nodded. Sniffling at the stupid aftermath of crying.

The rustle of clothes was a distant thing. Dark thoughts pooled and stuck against this stuffy head.

But two long and warm arms encased me. For a moment, panic sent my hands grasping for the invading limbs. But I was too weak- maybe i didn't care any more.

...and how utterly selfish these thoughts are. Me. Me. Me.

"You will be okay. You are strong. Don't ever think you are unworthy as one of my most trusted Pillars. It is your empathy and unending kindness which have bonded trust between both my children and your siblings."

Frozen and in shock, these terribly scarred arms couldn't return this-- this affection.

When he pulled away, it was like the warmth of a hearth had suddenly disappeared. It left behind an incomprehensible black hole that swallowed all these complicated emotions and cruelly amplified them in a messy tangle of confusion.

A long silence dragged between us, my eyes didn't dare meeting his soft ones. If someone's gaze was a window their soul... then I'd rather go blind and shut them before showing this horrible sight to you.

"...you are dismissed, my child. Never forget that your closest friends are right beside you."

I had bolted as soon as the dismissal left his lips. Hiding away like some guilty demon.

And friends? What friends? The ones that are currently either actively avoiding me or burned into ash?

Somebody loudly yelled my name, the force of the sound shocking several kakushi in the distance. Everyone scattered, leaving me to probably one of the most cheerful people on the planet.

He strode up to me, his wide grin and fiery eyes meeting my haggard appearance, "How was your mission?!"

I nodded, unable to answer. I forced back more tears, infinitely grateful for the break in gasping breaths and a fracturing mental health.

It didn't take a genius to know I was... discontent. My eyes were probably a right mess after an unhealthy dose of catharsis while still hopelessly stressed. Rengoku definitely knew something was up.

He was no longer smiling, flaming eyes a piercing resemblance to the core of a fire. If he were a simple cup, it'd most likely just be an open bonfire under a dark sky.

He offers help without hesitation, without that damning fear.

The silence stretched between us, awkward and stilted. I'm sorry. I should've replied.

"No! It's alright! You must be busy!" He yelled, his smile a mile wide.

Oh no.

I shrunk away. Away from his burning eyes. Like a demon from the sun.

It must've looked terribly guilty. But my internal battery had long been sizzled out- gasping on fumes while flipping between something highly functional under an incredible amount of stress or simply giving up.

Today was not the day to be socialising.

With something like determination, my eyes didn't meet his and neither did my usual apathy. Too tired.

"Hey," the sudden sound jolted me away, strangely soft and deep. I looked up.

"...yes?" Maybe it was a favour or something. A gift? Work?

He was weirdly quiet, voice low as if he saw something. Something unsightly.

Such a low expression was not befitting for someone so... bright.

Please don't find this deep dark hole. Just leave before you fall in.

"I- I'm just tired. It's been--"

"Are you alright?"

There it was. Those ungodly words. Those stupid words that pierce this stupidly overflowing cup. It decimated my walls like the straw that broke the camel's back.

These stupid tears. This horrible hole that seeks to swallow even your weakest defences away.

It was always those stupid stupid words.

That's when I realised I literally didn't-- couldn't care anymore

If caring led to this- then no wonder people prefer to be lonely.

I ran away. Twisting around with vicious speed and breathing deeply. Letting the oxygen soak into my core until I exploded in a burst of unholy speed.

Just as the first muscles contracted, a big hand reached out. But it was too late.

Yanking forward, baggage and all, I surged through the skies. Feet charged with bodily momentum, each step was a visual tremble in the earth. Free-falling tears floated into the wind.

It didn't last long, and in the end all I could feel was that I even failed at running away.

I dropped down, expecting this body to shatter upon impact. I closed my eyes and never arrived.

"...tell me what's wrong." With gentle moves, he landed softly for both of us. Deposited on the grass, I moved an arm to cover the sun.

The stress had temporarily left. Only this deep and untouchable ache remained. It wasn't the feeling of tiredness. It was neither sadness or despair, yet it was all of them and not.

People... are like paper cups.

And sometimes, a breaking point is when the water disappears. Where it goes, no one knows.

"Rengoku," I croaked, cracking open a swollen eye, "leave me alone."

"No." His reply was firm, but his gaze was soft, "Tell me what happened on the mission."

Okay. I can do that.

"Kid died. Family died. Demon died. Late." There. Job done.

Yet this mind wanders in the midnight of thoughts. Maybe if I had run faster, done the previous jobs faster. Gotten the mission earlier. Maybe they'd be alive right now.

"It's not your fault." He said finally. I sat curled on the grass, knees drawn in. He sat beside me, uncharacteristically quiet. Even so- his hair, haori and even the eyes burned an intense flame, beautifully fitting for his name. Mine was so low in comparison, so boring it might as well be some random name.

The Hunter Hashira. What kind of name is that??

"...what about that long speech to motivate and 'set your heart ablaze' or something?" I spat.

"...No. Because your heart is already ablaze. In fact, it's literally on fire and you don't know it."

No it's not. It's far from burning. I think it's charred to death by now. Maybe the cup just tipped out the water and walked away.

I snapped open my eyes, suddenly aware of his approaching arms like a cornered animal.

"Don't fucking touch me." I snarled.

He stopped, slightly shocked at the foul language.

"It wasn't your fault. Demons eat people everyday. You cannot possibly prevent every death. And our job alone is so dangerous we might not come back even after doing a thousand missions. You're not perfect- no one is!"

Tears were pricking at my eyes even now.

"You're right. You're so absolutely right. But I can't accept that."

"Why?"

"It's my fault they're dead. And nothing can stop that now."

"Then get stronger. You are strong. So incredibly kind and able to get along with everyone. I think you made Tomioka smile once!"

I was silent. But he knew, with the most powerful conviction, that this duty was both incredibly rewarding and so draining. Failures and a dose of bad luck could tear through the ranks.

"Can I give you a hug?" He asked quietly.

Looking into those fiery eyes was like staring at a sun. Almost star-like in its intensity.

I nodded and braced. But when the arms came, they weren't prepared to engulf the entirety of my existence. Instead they hovered around my shoulders, a comforting weight that filled the deepest recesses in my chest.

"Thank you." I whispered. He didn't seem to hear me, but his usual grin had returned as if he'd already sensed the mood lifting.

Like a burning star, he truly was magnificent.

[sillyrabbit81]

Hi dear

I'm a big fan of your writing, especially the way you write Sy. Love it. If you are still taking prompts, I have one.

How would Henry and his characters react to having an Erectile dysfunction?

I think that topic is not being discussed enough.

🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for the ask Anon. I was having trouble with this ask so I discussed it with @henryobsessed and we worked on it together. To be fair, she did most of it! If you haven’t read any of her work I suggest you visit her blog and take a look at her Masterlist . She is a great friend and has a wonderful perspective and a unique style. I love her!

@henryobsessed here I have to interject and have my say too, I loved this request, it was so much fun finding creative ways to discuss a delicate subject. And for the record I may have done more characters but @sillyrabbit81 wrote more words per character HAHAHA. You are a wonderful Friend and Cavill sister you inspire and push me to be myself and I cannot be more grateful. That being said have fun reading guys 😊

Summary: Situations in which Henry and his characters suffer erectile dysfunctions

Word Count: approx 3k

Warnings: smut, masturbation (m), oral sex (m and f receiving), anal play, p in v sex, bad medical advice, incorrect use of prescription medication, bodily fluids, period sex, drunk sex, Dom/sub relationship, descriptions of violence and death,

Masterlist

Erectile Dysfunction Headcanon

Henry Cavill

Henry had been filming for months and now he was headed home for a week’s break. You sat there waiting in the tinted people mover, as Henry was ushered to the car. Lights blinded you as the door opened, he climbed in, and smiling a weary grin, he pulled you into a big bear hug. He missed you so much.

That night, he fell into your arms in a passionate embrace. You had both craved each other, missing one another’s touch. As the night progressed, you noticed things were different. For the first forty minutes you were ecstatic, he had bought you to orgasm three times. Your body was super sensitive, but every time he seemed to be close himself, the phone would ring, indicating someone needed him. You had switched it off after an hour, having enough, and wanting his undivided attention.

Henry had managed to stay hard, but after an hour and a half, it was beginning to be painful for you, and he seemed no closer. Eventually, he flopped beside you, drained from the physical exertion.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like I’m right there, but I can’t let go.”

You brought him into your arms, and caressing his back said, “Don’t worry love. It will be ok. Just give yourself a day, and maybe we can shut your phone off. I think the stress it is causing you might be a big part of the problem.”

He huffed at the thought. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe.” He sighed and soon you heard soft snores spilling from his lips.

Walter Marshall

It had been a long day, scratch that a long month. Walter had been working day and night to catch a serial killer. That night as he came home, he couldn’t forget the latest victim. What they had found had turned his stomach. In all the years he had been on the force, nothing could have prepared him for what they found that night.

Arriving home he collapsed on the bed, he was so physically exhausted, and for once sleep immediately consumed him. He woke nearly twelve hours later to the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee. He groaned; he had forgotten it was his two-year anniversary with you. Walking into the bathroom he washed his face, staring at the blood shot eyes reflected back at him.

“Come on man, get it together. You promised her,” Walter tried to fire himself up. It was no use, he was spent. Sighing, he walked into the kitchen wrapped his arms around you and breathed in the soft floral scent in your hair. For the first time in days, he felt a spark within himself, and although the horrific images still played on his mind, he felt a slight peace. He kissed your head, relieved, something could still reach him, something was still good. “Happy anniversary, love,” he growled.

After a wonderful breakfast, Walter sat on the couch with you and the two of you cuddled while watching a movie. His eyes kept sliding shut, his exhaustion made worse by his full belly. His fatigue became even more apparent when after reaching your hand beneath the blanket, you could not bring his flaccid muscle to attention.

Normally this situation would turn heated quickly, you had a way with your tongue that often had him begging for more. But Walter couldn’t get rid of the images in his mind, the battered and dismembered bodies, and the fact they were no closer to catching the killer weighed most heavily on his thoughts.

After half an hour of you trying to arouse him, Walter said in a resigned voice, “Sorry love, I don’t think I can.” With eyes that spoke of immense pain he looked at you and asked, “Could we please just cuddle? I think I need that more than anything right now.” In that moment he knew you were the one for him. He had expected huffing or crying because you thought you weren’t good enough or you asking him to please you. Instead, you had adjusted your position, so he was tucked into your body, holding him close while your hand stroked his curls.

A calm filled his soul as you whispered, “I am here for whatever you need my love. Rest now.”

Captain Syverson

You were just about to turn the light off and go to sleep when you heard the front door open with a crash and heard a rough curse. You grin, Sy was home and wasn’t sober. You knew what that meant, rough, wild, primal fucking. You quickly turn the light off and hide under the covers, well acquainted with the game, you knew how to play your part.

“Where are ya, woman?” Sy’s voice boomed at your bedroom door. “Don’t think you can hide from me. I’m hungry!”

You peek out from under the blanket, Sy had turned the light on again and was quickly undressing. You lick your lips, watching your big furry ox as he dropped his jeans, and his cock was revealed already on its way to being hard. Turning suddenly, he saw you, and you yelped covering your face again. “I see you woman, don’t play shy!” You giggle nervously, excited, your core already dampening with arousal.

Sy pulls the covers back and smirks as he sees you’re already naked waiting for him, “You’re a cheeky little thing ain’tcha?” You bite your lip, opening your legs slightly, inviting him in. Grabbing your ankles, he pulls you down the bed and gets on his knees. A low growl emanates from his throat before he dives between your legs feasting on you with an eagerness that brings you swiftly to your peak.

Licking at his lips and sucking on his glistening whiskers, he stands up pumping his cock getting it ready. Your brows pull together, puzzled, he’s always hard when he eats you out. You don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s soon ready. Sy flips you onto your knees before he enters and begins his assault on your core.

Something is wrong though, you can feel him falling out of you. Did he cum already? Sy mumbles curses, pulling out and you turn around and see him fisting himself again as he slips his fingers inside you. In a few moments he is hard again, removing his fingers and replacing it with his cock. You sigh, relieved, as he builds his rhythm, and you hear him start to groan. But soon, it happens again, and try as he might he just can’t stay hard.

“Fuck,” Sy growls. You turn around and see the look on his face, a mix of frustration and embarrassment that melts your heart. “I think I drank too much Sugar,” he says, running his hand over his short hair. “Fuck. This hasn’t happened… Fuck!”

“Hey!” you say sharply to get his attention.

“What?” Sy replies just as sharply, but he doesn’t look at you.

“It’s fine, Baby,” you assure him. You see him jut his jaw and you reach up and cup his cheeks, making him look at you. “It’s ok. You’re just a little too drunk,” you smile and give him a soft kiss. “It happens.”

“Not to me it don’t.”

“It’s not forever,” you say. “Come on, let’s go to sleep. I’m sure it’ll be back normal in the morning.” You kiss him again and pull his head down to whisper in his ear, “maybe you could wake me up like you did last week.” You pull back and smirk raising your eyebrows.

Sy grins, still a little sheepish, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes again, “You’re a good thing, Sugar.” He kisses your forehead and says, “I love you.”

Geralt of Rivia

Geralt had never in his life had this happen before. The bar maid who had eagerly agreed to keep his bed warm on this cold winter’s night, gaped in confusion.

How could it be? She thought, All the myths about Witcher’s said they were virile and could last most of the night. She had been consumed with the thought ever since The White Wolf had arrived in the area and was quick to accept his offer to take her to his bed. She was bitterly disappointed and pouted at Geralt. Her sweet, plump lips alone should have been enough to make his cock stand, but tonight it lay unmoving, and useless.

That blasted sorcerer, it must have been him who had cast a curse on Geralt. It could be the only explanation for his inadequate showing. Looking at the poor wench beside him, Geralt pitied her. She had been most eager to satisfy his needs tonight, giving a valiant effort to arouse him. No matter, he had other ways to enjoy bringing her to the height of pleasure. Granted he didn’t normally concern himself with their needs as his own normally coincided with theirs. But tonight, his fingers, and tongue would be adequate until he broke the curse and returned to give her what she truly deserved.

Mike

The party had been epic, the drinks flowed, pot was smoked in abundance and Mike had managed to capture the attentions of a wonderful long legged blonde beauty. She helped him back to her apartment and his heart rate raised as she slowly stripped him, leaving him in all his naked glory. Laying on the bed he watched as she did a strip tease for him, her perky breasts bouncing as she jiggled her ample peach in his face.

But something was wrong, the situation was right, she was right but… he held his hand out to the two or was it three beauties before him. One took his hand as he guided her to sit in his lap. He caressed her as they kissed, his tongue violating her mouth with as much enthusiasm as his inebriated self could manage. Even with her grinding against him nothing happened.

“Shit” he swore.

The girl frowned and her lips seemed to move in twisted patterns which stilled again before she snickered. An evil cackle reverberated in her throat and her face twisted into that of a demented creature. “Can’t get it up, boy?” she taunted as she continued to laugh. She collected his clothes and managed to push him out of her bedroom and into the night. Standing in the cold with only his briefs covering his body, he stumbled as he began his walk of shame home.

August Walker

August Walker was hands down, far and away, the greatest lover you have ever had. He was the only man who had ever been able to keep up with you, your average session lasting for four hours. He was able to cum and get hard again faster than any guy you had ever been with too.

But being with August meant following The Rules. There were many Rules, rules which governed how you would dress when you saw him, how you were groomed, how you were to address him and when you could contact him. There were punishments too, but you had been a good girl, never broken any of his rules, so you never gave the punishments a thought.

One of the many Rules was absolutely no snooping. He said it was for your protection as much for his privacy. You didn’t know exactly how August made his money, but you assumed it had to be from some sort of illegal activity. So, you obeyed this rule as you did the others until one evening after a marathon session, you realised you got your period. You were shocked August hadn’t said anything, clearly he had continued to fuck you while you were bleeding. You started opening his bathroom cupboards searching for a tampon or pad or something, hoping you wouldn’t have to stuff your panties with toilet paper until you got home.

You opened the cupboard behind the mirror and were surprised to see a pill bottle with little blue tablets. You recognised them and after checking the label and confirming it you were speechless. August used Viagra? But, it didn’t seem possible that he would need it, his stamina was out of this world… unless…

“What do you think you are doing Petal?” August said from the doorway, a box of tampons and a towel was in his hands.

Quickly recovering your senses, you grabbed the box and towel out of his hands and kissed his cheek saying, “Looking for those. Thank you, August.”

Quicker than you thought possible you were bent over the counter, cheek pushed into the stone benchtop. “You found my pills,” August said coldly. Leaning his body over yours, his weight pushed down on you, holding you in place as he kicked your legs apart. You muffled a cry as you felt him hard again against your ass. “I don’t need them, for most women, Petal. But for particularly slutty, insatiable, cock hungry brats such as yourself, it’s a necessary assistance.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” you murmured, hoping he would take pity on you. Tears welled in your eyes as his finger pressed against your ass, forcing your tight muscles apart and you cried as he entered you. “I’m sorry, August.”

“My dear sweet, Pet,” August grunted as he violated you with a second finger. “If you aren’t sorry now, you will be.”

Napoleon Solo

Napoleon had been watching the siren from a distance all night. Her lithe body commanded all around to her attention. After she finished singing her call to the night goddess, he made his move. Two drinks in hand he set his sights and went in for the kill.

The two danced, drank and now were in her apartment, laid out on her bed he was happily pleasing her, mouth buried between her delicious thighs. His tongue flicked expertly over her button bringing her to climax, exciting his body, he climbed forward and for the first time that night claimed her lips. They kissed passionately until something changed, his mind grew foggy, and his cock deflated.

“Aww, is the great Casanova having trouble?” she laughed her sweet siren song changing to a bitter retort. His confused eyes tried to fix on hers as she began to distort, her last words filling his gut with fear. “Don’t worry love. I’ll take good care of you Napoleon Solo.”

Clark Kent

Clark was in college and his new friend Tommy was egging him on to take Crystal out for a date. He couldn’t understand why the cheerleader wanted to take him out. He wasn’t anything special as far as she knew, but she had been flirting with him all week.

Dinner was nice and Clark was surprised when Crystal suggested they return to her share house for dessert. Nervous as he was around her, he was pleased when after ice cream he had allowed her to talk him into a make out session in her room. They had only been in the room a few moments when he had felt strange. They had been kissing, it was enjoyable, but his stomach had begun to feel off and he felt unusually tired and weak.

The more they kissed the more frustrated he was to realise he wasn’t getting a rise out of his little friend. He noticed a pendant hanging on the wall near her bed, the green stone glowed eerily at him giving him a bad vibe. After a few more moments he politely excused himself, saying he must have eaten something off. Clarke murmured apologies and gave promises that he would call her and he left. Strangely, by the time he left her house he felt better, as if he had never felt ill at all. He was only a little upset that he had ruined his chances with Crystal, something about that pendant made him hope he would never see it again.

Charles Brandon

Charles sat in the apothecary rooms, wondering what he had gotten himself in for. The King had recommended him when Charles confided in his friend of his problem.

“So young man, why are you here?” the old man asked, his face kind but stern.

“Well, I’ve been having trouble, when I pee it burns and well, I can get an erection, but it deflates quickly and sometimes I cannot get one at all. I’m also having abdominal pain.”

The old man chuckled. After examining the affected area, he turned to his wall of potions. Pulling together some salves, and powdered herbs he turned to address the Charles. “Here, rub this on the affected area twice a day, and drink this tea three times a day.” The apothecary paused and said with a grin, “And finally, give the ladies from court a rest for a bit, you will regain your vigour again.”

Shame and chagrin filled Charles as he pulled his coverings back over his privates. Taking the medicines, he snuck out of the room trusting that no one saw him, and hoping against all hope, that this would work.

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock sits back in satisfaction, marvelling at his new invention. Based on some literature he read from the America’s he perfected the design and made it fit himself perfectly.

Having commissioned the glass tube and rubber attachments, the contraption worked by winding a small handle, creating the necessary suction to create a vacuum, pooling enough blood into his cock to make it erect. By placing a rubber ring at the base of his shaft, he found he was able to maintain an erection for approximately thirty minutes. He could even bring himself to orgasm by his own hand.

It really was a delightful invention. Now, he just had to find that little vixen of a maid and see if it worked with her too. Perhaps he should try and use her mouth first.

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67

[jordanstrophe]

 (They’re slowly becoming oc’s, thank you, Dot, for the continuational growth of my OC bowl)

Masterlist

CW: Medieval whump, slavery, noncon nudity (nonsexual) whipping implied, branding implied, manhandling, forceful caretaking/bathing

The carriage rattled to a stop as the guards opened the doors for the king. He then extended a hand to his new slave, who sat quivering in their seat. They held the torn shirt against their chest, the only thing they had left for cover as their freshly whipped back was exposed. 

“Come now, we have much to get done.” He waved his fingers, coaxing the slave to take it. Whumpee knew better than to disobey, their arm extending before hesitating. Their hand was covered in mud as they instantly flinched back, not daring to get a speck of filth on the king's garbs.

“I- I can’t.” Whumpee stuttered, tightening their grasp on their shredded shirt. “Yes you can. I don’t mind a little dirt, now take my hand.” Their tone was authoritative, but lulling as Whumpee couldn’t resist resting their hand within the king’s soft glove. Their hand was squeezed as they were pulled from the carriage, stumbling as they were caught within the king's arms, who only chuckled at their clumsiness. 

“Your majesty, the servants are ready.” A guard said. “Wonderful! Take this dear to the wash and get them cleaned up. I want them groomed before the celebratory bouquet tonight.” 

“Yes sir.” Almost immediately, two metallic hands grabbed Whumpee from each side, pulling them up the castle’s stairs. The cold touch shot shivers up their spine, feeling the stress build in their chest the further they were taken. 

This can’t be happening... Is this... A dream? A twisted hallucination? A slave of all things to be taken in by the king himself was like a child’s fantasy. 

The corridor was made from grey stone, the floors clothed in blood red carpets with matching curtains framing each window. Whumpee could hardly keep up with the guards almost dragging them deeper into the castle. The shirt slipped through their grasp as Whumpee gasped, digging their heels into the ground. “Wait! I l-lost my-” ”-Don’t worry, you won’t be needing it.” The guard laughed, coming to a halt as Whumpee crumple to the floor. 

They were gone as soon as they came, leaving Whumpee surrounded by a group of servants forming a line with curious prying eyes. 

“Oh dear, what a mess...”

“Look at all those scars! Are you sure this is what the king brought home?”

“Quiet! We don’t question his majesty...” 

“Just look at them, a battered slave! Must have been nothing but trouble.”

Whumpee slowly curled in on themselves with each word, hiding their chest within their arms. “Now sisters, that’s enough. Let's get to work.” Their arms were taken as they were practically lifted off their feet right into a large warm bath. It smelled of rich potent oils as they held back a choking breath. 

“It’s myrrh, costume for those who approach the king to soak in it.” A woman kneeling by their side. Whumpee gasped a whimper when they were covered in hands trying to wash them, touching them here and there, oil being poured down their shoulders. They winced when a cloth brushed against their back. 

“Gentle! They're wounded.” She barked. 

“What? The king is expecting them to look lavishing” She argued back. 

“Well make them look lavishing with ease! They belong to the king himself, we must treat them as such.”  The hands covering them hesitated in unison, before continuing with gentleness. 

Whumpee’s pupils were noticeably dilated with fear as they tried not to look at the faces of the hands that handled them. Their arm was taken, coaxing them to lean up. “Come on, I need to wash your chest.” 

Whumpee instantly sank further into the waters, ‘P-please don’t...” They rasped. “Don’t be shy now, this will only take a minute.” Their wrists were taken as they were pulled up until the water was at their waist. Whumpee choked back a sob before breaking into hyperventilation, turning their head away with blushing pink cheeks.

“Oh sweet mother of King Arvand the lll....” She gasped, her eyes glued to the branded sign on their chest. “Pl-please! It wasn’t my f-fault!” Whumpee cried, twisting their body away without any avail. They were slowly lowered back into the water, instantly curling within their arms. 

The branded Sigle, a mark put on a slave by their owner to signifying a pending trade to a rivalry kingdom. Not only looked down upon, but an act of treason to those who dare seek illegal goods from the enemy. 

“When did this happen?” She asks, Whumpee’s arm flinching at the most gentle of touches. “La-last week..." Whumpee hid their head under their arms. "Master put a sword in the forge one day until it was red and-I-.. I wasn’t to-told what I did wrong...!” They looked up at her with a broken voice and tear filled eyes. 

“But I didn’t deserve it.... I swear I didn’t! ....” They shook their head in denial.

“Did I?” 

Their voice was full of uncertainty. “No, you didn’t.” A sad smile painted her face.

“This needs to be brought to the king's attention, immediately!” A servant yelled. “No! Not yet... This week is the anniversary, remember? The king has just returned home. We speak nothing of this until the event has ended.” Her gaze turned back down to the slave. “Listen to me, this cannot be mentioned until the week is over, do you understand?” She asked. 

“I don’t even understand why I’m here!” Whumpee finally broke, ceasing all hopes that maybe this was just a vivid dream. 

“You’re here because you found favor with the king, little one, his majesty is gracious.” She smiled. “Speaking of which, he wants you at the celebration tonight, that’s an incredible honor.” She tried to get them hopeful, pinching their cheek that sent shutters down their shoulders.

But Whumpee knew full well they were probably going to mess that up as well. 

Next

Tag list: @grizzlie70  @alien-octopus @lave-whump @amethysts-sideblog  @whump-it-like-its-hot  @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @yet-another-heathen @princessofonward @whatwhumpcomments  @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @mascmasochist @hamiltonwhumpdump  @shokuhoemisaki @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @tears-and-lilies 

o(^∀^*)o Thank you for reading!

[breathings-of-the-heart]

Stuck on You (Levi x Childhood Friend! Reader) Part 2

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been kinda a while but here is part 2~ I have this habit of writing and rewriting my pieces since I’m never fully satisfied by them, but overdoing that is just as bad so I’m going to leave this as is ajflkajada  The amount of love my first part recieved was so genuinely heart warming and I cannot express my gratitude enough. I’m nervous to post this because of it, to be honest, because I hope it lives up to the expectations. Thank you to everyone who has shown me support, it means so much! If you guys want a part three, or maybe just a short epilogue, I will consider it so let me know! Also if you would like to be tagged in my future works, comment below or send me a message <3 I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, Season 1 and No Regrets ova spoilers

Word Count: 4k

If you haven’t already, read part one here

As a former member of the Scouts yourself, you knew the ins and outs of the military’s regulations. Because of this, you also knew your request was a strange one, seeing as soldiers weren’t typically allowed visitors, but you hoped your letter appealed to the more personal side of Commander Erwin. Apparently it somehow moved the man, seeing as you had been brought by carriage to the legion's base the following night.  

The clopping of horse hooves eventually stopped, and you were currently being escorted into the building by another familiar face, her hand already outstretched to help you out of the vehicle as soon as the door swung open.  

“I understand your reservations about this, but you’re brave for coming here. I think he’ll be relieved to see you, (Y/N),” Hange spoke, her fingers hovering over the small of your back as she guided you down one of the many hallways, lantern swinging in her free hand. “I think he could benefit from seeing a familiar face.”

Your eyes were downcast, staring at the floor as rooms upon rooms passed by along your path. You couldn’t speak if you tried, words seemingly stuck in your throat and unable to keep up with your racing thoughts.

Deep breaths, (Y/N).

For better or for worse, there was no need to reply, as Hange came to a halt not a second later. She squeezed your shoulder gently before bringing her knuckles to the wooden door, knocking once, twice.

Your hands were clammy, heart thundering in your ears as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Levi, someone is here to see you,” Hange’s voice rang out firmly.

There was a distinct sound of a chair being pushed back, and footsteps growing nearer. Time slowed down, and you began to second guess every decision up to now. Would Levi even want you to be here? Will he be angry? You felt like bolting away and forgetting about the whole idea, suddenly afraid of his reaction. Afraid that your presence would only make everything worse.

Your eyes were widening as you realized the possibility of leaving was too late to explore, Levi already turning the handle from the other side. So instead, you swallowed your pride, stood up straighter, and pushed away the growing sensation of nausea in your gut.

“Who could possibly be important enough to interrupt my--”


The second his eyes met yours, Levi halted in all movements. Your gaze was fixed on him as well, every bit of longing settling back in your bones the second it did.

He looked nearly the same as the last time you saw him, clean and kempt as ever, hair styled the way it always was-- the same way he’d keep it when he used to chastise you for running your fingers through it.

And those stoic, gray irises that drew you in your were fierce, yet somehow emptier. At the sight of you, his flooding emotions became too much to properly register, unlocking every moment you’d ever spent with him as they replayed all at once.

“(Y/N)?” He couldn’t hide his disbelief, eyes widening ever so slightly. 


“Hello, Levi.” 


~~~~~~~~~

Never did Levi think he would grow to care for another group of people the same way he had for you, Farlan, and Isabel. But sitting around Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oruo, he found their excited chatter over the dinner table endearing more than anything. The ever stoic look on his face didn’t change, and he would never openly admit it, but it felt reminiscent to be surrounded by trusted company like this. All of Squad Levi had full faith in one another; it was necessary for the battle field. This created an unspoken bond between all of them that the unreachable Ackerman did not picture building with others again.

Fate worked in funny ways, he supposed.

Sounds of clinking silverware and chatter filled the mess hall, sun setting outside of its many windows and painting the expanse in an orange light. The males eyes drifted towards the entrance of the room expectantly, where a clock rested above the doorway. He took a sip of his tea whilst squinting at it, attempting to get a better read before feeling a slight jab in his side.

“Looking for someone, sir?” Petra inquired, with a hint of deeper emotion in her tone that went right over the male’s head.

He glared at her in annoyance, having almost spilled his drink as the thought of you returned to the forefront of his mind.

It was strange, seeing how capable you had become after spending those months by yourself in the Underground. They made you a bit more calloused than when Levi last saw you, carrying over to your skills as a Scout. You never used to be skilled at riding ODM gear, not even when Levi tried to teach you in your youth. Seeing you slash Titans without blinking an eye was like watching someone completely different.

But you had to learn, since you had no one to protect you.

Your open displays affection had grown fewer and farther between as your time in the Survey Corps dragged on. At first, Levi thought nothing of it. Truthfully, the Captain had hardly noticed, with how busy the both of you were. He wrote it off as stress, or the workload catching up to you. Or, maybe, it was that nagging thought in the back of his conscience he dared not dwell on: he had turned you into this, after being away for so long and then failing to protect your friends.

But as your words replayed in his mind like a broken record, too late he realized this wasn’t the case.

“I see the way you look at her. I see it because you used to look at me that way.”

“Captain?” Petra repeated, leaning forward to study his distant countenance and successfully pulling the man out of his thoughts. “She’s probably just training.”

He rested his hand on top of her head, turning it away from him and sighing.

“Eat, Petra. I don’t need you to be whining about hunger during our patrol tomorrow morning,” he chastised, forcing his eyes away from the doorway.

After that talk, Levi had watched you go, telling himself that you’d return soon enough. Yet could not shake the feeling in his gut that there was something amiss. He pushed away the pit in his stomach. You were safe, you were healthy, and that was all that mattered. Humanity’s Strongest had other things to focus on, after all, and tuned back into his comrades’ conversation. The man blended back in easily, occasionally offering a few of his own comments as the meal dragged on.

Every so often his thoughts would shift back to your conversation earlier that day, and he realized that you were wrong. As close to Petra as he had gotten, there was a stark difference between you and her:

No matter how strong you’d get, and no matter what you thought of him, Levi would always shield you from as much of this world as he could.

But it was better this way. Better if you moved on from him and easier to do if you thought it was because he wanted Petra.

If only he knew your last words to him “I’ll be back for dinner,” had been a lie.

It had been strange for him when you didn’t return. Levi tried not to think about how Kenny had done the same, instead grasping for a reason. For once, he could not read your thought process. The male had no idea why you’d voluntarily leave, after everything. He knew better than to hold onto certainty, but you’d thrown him for a loop. You were always the one to communicate, the problem solver, the one who understood him without much direction. Didn’t you know that you were irreplaceable? He should have come clean: told you that he didn’t see Petra that way, and just didn’t have the heart to admit he didn’t feel good enough for you anymore.

Did he ever even get the chance to say “I love you?”

His regret multiplied tenfold as he began to understand that maybe if he had, you would’ve stayed.

~~~~~~~~

A strange sense of comfort washed over the man as you smiled softly, small hands clasped together in front of you. He blinked, wondering if you were simply a mirage caused by his sleep deprivation. But you remained where you were, after all this time, standing at his door. For once in the man’s life, his mind was drawing a blank.

“I’ll leave you guys to it, then,” Hange stated, excusing herself and soon disappearing out of sight. 


Her statement pulled the both of you back into the present, and you were suddenly self conscious of Levi’s stare. You tucked your hair behind your ears and gestured towards his office, unable to gage his reaction to your presence.

“Would it be alright if I came in?” you asked shyly, astonished he hadn’t slammed the door in your face the second Hange left. 


To your shock, Levi simply nodded, stepping aside to let you through. Your movements were unsure and hesitant, stark in comparison to his: calm and collected as ever.

Just like any space Levi occupied, the area was clean and tidy, a lantern sitting upon his desk the only source of light against the cloudy night sky. It smelled like tea leaves, sandalwood, and disinfectant, a signature scent that made you fill with nostalgia. As the click of the door echoed behind you, the reality of your situation set in, and you turned around to face the man you were here to see.

His gaze had never left you.

“You’re hurt,” was the first thing that left your mouth, concern evident as you studied the bandaging that peaked above his knee length shoes. 


“Long story,” Levi offered curtly, eyeing you up and down from a few feet away. “One I don’t particularly care to tell you.” 


“Of course, that’s fine,” you agreed softly, a weak smile pulling at your lips.

You did your best to mask the hurt, knowing you deserved to feel it. It hurt to be here, the fear that Levi hated you previously keeping you away. Now that you were facing the music, that fear seemed more realistic than ever. Your brain wracked to change the topic before your mind could continue overthinking; desiring instead to cut the unbearable, building tension that never used to exist between you two.

“How are you, Levi?” it was a stupid question, but you no longer knew how to talk to him.

“(Y/N).”


The way he said your name was sharp and challenging. You quickly cleared your throat and looked away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Of course you’re--”


“--Why did you leave?” Levi effectively cut you off, orbs narrowing as you dared to come closer.

The question caught you off guard. You thought you’d made it obvious with your last conversation with him those years ago. Surely, he had some idea, although his pained expression said otherwise. His fingers twitched at his sides, a movement you didn’t miss as your eyes flickered back to his in surprise. He had been so composed just a moment ago, that the sudden shift gave you whiplash.

Now his fists were clenching, as he waited in the painful silence, knuckles turning white.

“Why did you leave?” The phrase echoed tauntingly in your ears, over and over again.  

You don’t know what came over you. All you knew was that you needed to rid him of the rare, defeated look etched into his countenance. To purge him of this feeling you caused. Whether reaching out would help or hurt, you didn’t know.

But you needed to be near him.  

Levi’s eyelids screwed shut as you brushed your thumb across his cheek. The action was so simple, so delicate, so unsure and so familiar all at once, and at the feeling, the Captain’s composure finally came undone.


He reached up and gripped your wrist, as if you’d fade away if he let go. In previous years, it was always you who craved skinship, yet it seemed as if a weight had been lifted off Levi’s shoulders to have you this close. Your touch still felt like the comforting warmth of a campfire; the type that would make anyone want to stay forever.

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d be better off without me,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to cause you any pain.”

He let out a breath.

“Then why are you here now?” his question was more defeated than hostile, which you hadn’t expected.

If someone asked a few hours ago, your answer would have been much clearer. But now, the logic that brought you here seemed overshadowed by doubt. After all this time, and after everything that had happened between you and Levi, any semblance of a relationship with him seemed unsalvageable. You told yourself this mantra over and over until it stuck. So why were you here?

Levi must’ve thought it audacious, for you to run away like a coward and still think you were relevant to him.

“I owe you so much. Whether I ended up being wrong or right, I’ve always acted with your best interest,” you sighed, thumb brushing over Levi’s dark circles. “Truthfully, I don’t know if I’m any use to you now. I might be the last person you want to seek comfort from, but on the off chance that I still matter to you, I’ll always come back,” you whispered earnestly.

Levi’s grip on your wrist tightened imperceptibly, and you longed to bury your face in the crook of his neck; to feel him wrap his arms around you in his embrace once more. It seemed as if Levi was staring into your soul, his shallow breaths mingling with yours at this close proximity as he opened his eyes to fully drink you in.

“I’m here to tell you that if you need me, I’ll stay.”


He looked to the side as if brushing aside your touch, hand falling away from the raven-haired man’s face as he did so. It felt like rejection, as if he was brushing all of you away with a simple turn of his head.

Silence.

“You’re a real idiot, (Y/N),” he spoke finally, voice nearly out of place against the stillness.

Moonlight suddenly peaked through the window, showering you in a bath of silver light. Levi recognized this look. You were wearing your heart on your sleeve, offering everything you had to give; eyes wide and honest, shining with a vulnerability that even after a lifetime of knowing you, he had never seen before. The man felt conflicted at the sight, annoyance prickling under his skin as you somehow managed to hold him together and tear him apart all at once with your presence.

Losing his squad twist that knife in his heart, convincing him that he was cursed to be left by everyone and his superhuman talents only doomed him to live a life alone.

But now, here you were, standing within arms length: despite the pain you caused, still the only person he had left. Only you could draw this much emotion out of the typically monotonous man. He couldn’t tell if you were a blessing or a curse, but in the moment, all he knew was that he didn’t want you to leave again. He needed you to stay here, with him, the way it should be. Because you were family.

And true to your word, you did.

“You should really get some sleep, you know,” you stated after a while, closing the door with your foot as you entered with two fresh cups of tea. 


You watched Levi fill out paperwork on the other side of the desk, bringing the cup to his lips in the strange fashion you always teased him for. His gaze flickered up boredly.

“You know I don’t sleep. You go on ahead, though. The bed’s behind that door,” he paused, gesturing somewhere behind him. “I hardly ever use it.”  

You shook your head, reaching forward and plucking Levi’s pen from his hand.  


“What you’re drinking is caffeine free. I switched it, so you have no excuse now.” You ignored the indignant scowl growing on the Captain’s face, urging him to listen. “Please, you really should rest. You know you need to.”

It took an entire hour of imploring and convincing for the man to finally give in, him grumbling as you helped take off the boot on his injured foot and ushered him onto the bed. You knew you were the last person with any right to tell the short Captain what to do, but knowing Levi, he was running on an hour or two of sleep while his body was begging for rest. And yes, you were very much hypocritical, draped across the couch in Levi’s office, staring at the ceiling. But none of that mattered to you, as long as he was okay.

You had been lost in introspection, being a room away from your childhood best friend and first love after so long a surreal experience. It felt strange to be back here, but you were too tired to dwell on how strangely out of place you seemed in a place you once called home.

The weight of your abundant emotions from the day finally crashed down, fatigue settling in. You rubbed your eyes, and snuggled closer to the cushions, letting the darkness claim you.

And in the other room, as Levi slipped out of his uniform, shaking his head in exasperation. His last thoughts while he inspected the door as if he could see you through it, was that of course only (Y/N) (L/N) could be more stubborn than he was.

As he slipped under the covers per your command, the ghost of a smile spread across his lips at the thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perhaps it was the constant danger of where you grew up, and the need to always stay on your toes, but for as long as you could remember, you’d been a light sleeper. If someone so much as stared at you for too long, your body would jolt awake, ready to take action within a moment’s notice. There had been many instances where this came in handy in your past; even after years of seldom disruption in your now boring life within the walls, this was a trait you never seemed to grow out of. So it wasn’t hard to notice the heavy breathing and panicked movement from behind Levi’s closed door.

Just like for you, some things never changed-- when it came to old habits, you knew the man like the back of your hand. The reason he rarely ever slept was one you were quite familiar with. One both of you struggled with, and probably always would. Nightmares never seem to stop. You’d gotten through so many of your own rough nights with your friends by your side.

Levi, however, always refused to admit how they affected him. Insisted on going through it by himself.  

The subconscious urge to look after one other was most likely one you'd never grow out of, even if Levi had. You didn’t think twice before making your way across the office, swinging your legs across the sofa, awake within seconds. Without missing a beat, you stood up and made your way to Levi’s personal sleeping quarters, knuckles rapping against the frame twice. Levi’s shallow gasps quieted, and when you realized he didn’t plan on opening the door, you steeled your nerves to do it yourself. This was what you were here for, wasn’t it? To offer some comfort?

He did want me to stay.

“Levi?” You called into the darkness gently, feet padding foreword as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

His silhouette was upright in the bed, no doubt staring at you menacingly.

“I'm fine, (Y/N). Go back to sleep,” he snapped.

That didn't deter you, for he would never openly admit vulnerability. This was by no means new behavior. Besides, the strong emotion behind the Captain’s voice was an easy tell that betrayed his words. You pressed on, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Do you remember the time we were teenageers and you got sick, but couldn’t afford medicine so I took that sketchy job you specifically told me not to?” Your back was to him, yet you could feel Levi peering at you.

“Obviously,” he humoured you with a reply, knowing you weren’t going to leave. “You came home half alive and I felt like the most useless piece of shit in the world.”

You chuckled, fingers fiddling with the white sheets beneath them.

“Yes, which was unfair to yourself but also something I did not realize since you called me pretty much every name in the book,” you smiled, the memory oddly fond despite its events. “You were so angry, but I was also scared out of my mind... which was more important than your anger, I suppose. So you let me lay next to you that night. That was all it took to make me feel safe again.”

There was a long pause, you trying to get your words together in a way that could allow Levi to understand how you felt right now.

“I know what you’re thinking; what you’ve been thinking your whole life. You haven’t failed anyone and that stupid idea should be the furthest thing on your mind. Take it from someone who knows, alright? So many lives have had meaning because of y--”

His hand closed around your wrist, the grip much like it was the day you left him.

This time, he would not let go.

“--Stop, (Y/N). Don’t.”

You hadn’t realized there were tears falling down your cheeks until Levi turned your face to look at him. Trying to look away in your embarrassment, you laughed bitterly. His grip did not budge as he examined you sternly.  

“Just be quiet and go to sleep, alright?”

You wiped at your face, determination etched into every fibre of your being.

“Mark my words, Levi, I will make you believe me.”

Levi rolled his eyes but tugged at you once more, opening the duvet in an invitation. When he sensed your uncertainty he simply nodded, arms winding around your waist as you finally crawled in beside him. Both of you knew that there was so much that still needed to be said; so many buried feelings and pain that would only take time to unravel. It felt like a miracle to find yourselves in this situation, pushing aside the thousands of emotions and questions and misunderstandings the two of you had, if only to stay together in this moment.

You didn’t need Levi to know that you still loved him; not while he was coping with another loss. It would be selfish to spring that on, and that was not what you were here for. But you had to tell him:

“I missed you.”

Levi hummed, nose brushing against yours in the close proximity.  

“You better not be gone when I wake up,” he chided in response, orbs fluttering shut.

Your fingers threaded through his onyx black locks, brushing through the knots soothingly. Knowing you’d help this man heal no matter how long it took, you took comfort in the realization that he’d finally let you do just that.  

“I’ll be right here. You’re not alone, Levi. I promise you never will be.”

He pulled you closer, thankful that there was at least one source of warmth left in his life that he could hold onto-- especially after coming to terms with and almost having been certain he’d never experience this feeling of contentment, again. But here you were to prove him wrong, a living slice of home in his arms.

It may have been wishful thinking, but you could have sworn you felt Levi’s breath fan across your hairline, a soft voice whispering “Thank you, (Y/N).” before you felt yourself slip away into slumber once more.

taglist: @asterroidd @chucky-26o1 @silversxble @belovedwindermere @christina-mj-stan @leviackerrman @cravrat @thekohakuriver1 @batakprincess @sunisenpai

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale part 2

Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader

Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)

Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Original image by @maewoahoah

Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.

By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.

It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.

The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.

It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.

It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.

Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.

“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.

“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.

“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.

“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.

“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”

“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”

“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”

“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.

“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s gonna see you…”

“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”

“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”

“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.

What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”

“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”

Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.

He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.

Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.

“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.

In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.

“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.

“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”

God.

“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”

He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”

After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.

“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”

Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.

“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”

“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.

“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”

Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.

“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”

Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.

“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  

What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.

The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.

Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”

Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.

Tricky, magic fish-man.

“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”

The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.

They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.

Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.

“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”

“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”

In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.

“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.

“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”

“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”

“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”

You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”

“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”

“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”

“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.

“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”

“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.

“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”

It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”

“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”

“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”

“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”

“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”

Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.

I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.

Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.

“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.

At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”

“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.

“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”

“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.

Hitoshi frowns.

“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”

“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.

“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.

“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”

“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”

“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”

“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.

“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”

Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”

“He’s a fish, Denki.”

“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”

“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.

“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”

Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”

“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”

Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.

“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.

“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.

“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.

Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.

“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.

“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”

And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.

“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”

“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”

“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”

“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”

“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”

Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”

The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”

Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”

“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.

“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”

“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”

Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”

“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”

This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”

“Which would be?”

Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.

“Romantic rendezvous.”

“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”

Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”

You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”

Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.

“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”

Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.

“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”

“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”

Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”

To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.

There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.

“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”

At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.

“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”

“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”

Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?” You ask.

“That the two of you are going to help me.”

The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”

“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.

Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”

Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?

Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”

“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”

“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.

On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.

“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”

Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”

“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”

“So good at questions,” you murmur.

“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.

“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”

“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”

“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”

“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.

“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”

Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.

“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”

Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.

However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.

“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”

The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.

“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”

“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.

“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”

“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”

At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.

“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”

Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.

“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”

“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”

“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”

“I have a boat.”

“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”

“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.

“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.

“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.

“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”

There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.

“So if we help you find these gems—“

“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.

“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”

“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”

“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.

“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”

Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.

“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”

“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”

Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.

“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”

Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.

[luckysevenwrites]

Who’s your bias?

Haechan finds himself in the hospital waiting to get an x-ray after hurting himself during a warm up. While his mind is filled with worries about his leg, he’s able to find some distraction in you, the x-ray tech who is an intern. Haechan didn’t think he would find anything to smile about while getting an x-ray but you prove him wrong.

Part of the long term couples series

Sitting in the waiting room waiting to be taken back to get his x-ray Haechan couldn’t believe that he was here. Who would have thought warming up to perform would lead to him twisting his leg wrong and not being able to walk. Glaring down at his traitorous leg he hoped that nothing was broken. He didn’t want to miss any more performances than the one he is already missing. He feels like he is letting the group down. Even though all of them assured him that it was fine and that they were more concerned with him being okay.

           Still, he couldn’t stop the guilt from forming. Leaning his head back he closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. His manager next to him glances over at him and assures him that it won’t be long now. That they’ll know the results soon and he’ll be back with the rest of his members. He wants that to be, his gut though is telling him that its more serious than what everyone is hoping for. Eventually a nurse comes in and wheels him into a room to get his x-ray done.

           “Hi there Haechan, I’m Dr. Kim and this is my intern Y/n, Y/l/n do you mind if they join us today,” Haechan shakes his head no. He could care less who is performing the x-ray he just wants to know how bad it is and how long he isn’t going to be able to perform.

           “Okay let’s get you onto the table.” Dr. Kim nods for the nurse to push him towards the table. You follow behind her and together you help Haechan onto the table and get him in the correct position. It’s as you’re placing a pillow under his head that you first talk to him.

           “Try not to stress too much about it. Even if something is broken, you’re young and you’ll heal fast.” Haechan gives you a weak smile. He appreciates that you are trying to make him feel better.

           “For my line of work, it would be better if I didn’t have a broken bone.” He admits to you as you continue to adjust him until he is just right.

           You pause by his hip and lean against the table. Studying him Haechan wonders what you are thinking and why you are looking at him like that. Like you want to scold him but also comfort him. He’s not sure how he feels about you looking at him like that.

           “If your fans are true fans, they’ll still be there after you heal and the ones who aren’t then they weren’t real fans at all. And from what I’ve heard your members will be there to support you through all of this.”

           “You know who I am?” Haechan sits up a little causing you to huff at him because you now have to readjust him. You gently push him back down.

           “Of course, I do. They told us who was coming in and we had to sign a bunch of paperwork saying that we wouldn’t say anything to anyone about you being here. Also, I’m a fan of all of you,” Haechan notices how you won’t meet his eye while you admit that part and he wants to tease you but you disappear behind the door, and he hears Dr. Kim over the intercom telling him what they are going to for x-rays.

           Closing his eyes Haechan tries to think positive. He can hear clicking every once and a while from the machine and before he knows it you are walking back out and having him sit up so you can help him back into the wheelchair. Placing your one arm around his waist, the other holding onto his bicep Haechan cannot stop his mischievous mind and he turns towards you bringing your faces within an inch of one another.

           “Tell me Dr. Y/l/n who is your bias,” Haechan almost loses it with how wide your eyes get. He somehow manages to keep a straight face while he waits for your answer.

           “Let’s get you into your wheelchair so you can find out your results,” you tell him instead and start to pull on him. Reluctantly he lets you move him into the chair but before you can get behind him to push him back to his exam room he grabs onto your hand and looks up at you with what he hopes is his best puppy dog eyes.

           “Please tell me. It would make me happy to know,” he whines hoping that you’ll give into him and for a moment he thinks your about when you start to lean in towards him.

           “My bias,” you whisper, and he nods his head encouraging you on, “is someone in NCT 127.”

           With that you straighten up and move behind him to start pushing him back to his exam room. Haechan throws his head back and whines.  Calling you unfair and that it’s wrong to torture patients that are already in pain. You just ignore him but he’s almost positive that you laugh at one point during his rambling.

           Rolling him into the exam room you turn him around in his chair, so he is facing the door. You lock his wheels in place and give a nod to his manager who has been sitting in one of the chairs waiting for Haechan to return. Haechan continues to pout, and his manager raises an eyebrow at him, but he just ignores him. He really doesn’t care who you bias but now that you won’t tell him he has to know. It’s like those do not touch signs, once he sees them, he just has to touch the thing he’s not supposed to. Now he needs to know who you bias.

           “Is it Johnny Hyung?” Haechan says before you have a chance to leave. You look over your shoulder at him and laugh.

           “I’m not telling you,” With that you turn around and walk out of the room. Haechan crosses his arms over his chest and starts to make a mental list in his head of who you could bias. You give off more of a vocal vibe than a rapper vibe when it comes to having a bias. Then again maybe you are more of a visual person. Haechan isn’t sure how long he has been analyzing who you could possibly bias, but you and Dr. Kim are walking in with his results.

           “I have good news and bad news,” Dr. Kim announces. Haechan looks over at you and you give him a reassuring smile.

           “The good news is that it is only a fracture. The bad news is, you have to stay off your leg and give yourself time to heal. That means no performance,” Haechan really wasn’t sure how it only being a fracture was good news, but he wasn’t about to argue with the doctor.

           He let Dr. Kim continue to go on and on about how long he would be out when he should come back for a checkup, and a bunch of other things that Haechan was not paying attention to. All he could think about was that he was out for now, he couldn’t perform and would basically have to lay around all day. And he wasn’t sure if he could do that. If he could just sit around for hours on end, he was going to go insane, especially since everyone else would be off doing things and he would be stuck at the dorm.

           Dr. Kim had his manager follow him out so they could get some paperwork taken care of and talk about in more detail what the fracture could mean for his future. You had stayed behind and once the two men had left the room your eyes turn to him, and you walked over, squatted down in front of him and placed your hand on his knee.

           “It’ll be okay,” you tell him, “Like I said you are young and healthy. Your bone will heal quickly, and you’ll be back performing before you know it.”

           Haechan looks down at the hand you have placed on his knee then back up at you. You quickly remove your hand from his knee and stand up. You look away from him and clear your throat before you look back at him. Haechan can’t stop the smirk that spread across his face. He likes you and he likes seeing you flustered.

           “Anyway, you’ll get a cast any special request on colors?” You ask and Haechan considers teasing you, just to see how much he get you riled up. But he figures that you probably are embarrassed enough as it is and instead answers your question.

           “I’m thinking red,” he tells you then can’t help himself with his next question, “will you be the first to sign my cast?”

           Your eyes widen for a second and again you can’t make eye contact with him. Then your eyes take on a mischievous look and Haechan is rethinking his question. Before he has the chance to take it back a nurse has come in and is wheeling him out to get his cast on. He looks back at you and you give him a wave of your fingers and Haechan has a feeling you are up to no good.

           When he returns to his exam room, he has a red cast on his leg, and he finds you sitting in a chair waiting for him with a sharpie in hand. He didn’t think that you would stick around and sign his cast he was only teasing.

           “Don’t you have work to do?” Haechan questions.

           “I’m off the clock,” you tell him as you stand and make your way over to his cast, “Still want me to sign it?”

           “Sure,” Haechan watches as you look over the cast before you settle for a spot on the side of his cast. You lean in and start to write, and he wonders what exactly you are writing because it should take that long to write your name.

           When you stand you recap the marker and give Haechan a triumphant smile, “You are all set. We’ll see you in a few weeks. Rest up well Haechan. I’m looking forward to your return.”

           With those parting words you walk out as his manager walks in. He gives you a nod as the two of you pass one another. Haechan’s manager then looks at the cast and then burst out into laughter. Haechan furrow his brow wondering what could possibly be so funny.

           “Why are you laughing?” Haechan demands as he tries to see what you wrote on his cast, but you put it in a spot that he can’t easily see.

           “She wrote ‘my bias is Doyoung’,” his manager chokes out and Haechan groans. He’s going to get you back and now he has something to think about while he’s on bed rest. He’s not going to let you have the last laugh that’s for sure.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood/violence and language Genre: Action with a lil bit of fluff Warnings: Lil bit of blood Notes: There's an unnamed character in here who may or may not end up as recurring in my stories. I don't really have anything in particular planned for her, she's kinda just here to fill a role/allow for some easter egg type shit in the next chapter. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1, Pt. 2

{Wounded Love 3: Bloody Valentine (No, not that Valentine)}

“Mother Miranda, I must insist, if these lycans stray any further they might start feasting on the village as well! Pray tell, who will you use for research then? We can’t just-... Forgive me… Mhmm. Yes, I understand. Of course… Have a good night, Mother Miranda,” Lady Dimitrescu said, before setting her phone down with a loud thunk. Her hands shake a little, and for a moment you worry that her vanity won’t survive the coming moments. Then you make eye contact with her reflection, giving her an encouraging smile, watching as her gaze softens. “I’m afraid there’s nothing she can do, my dear. I cannot allow Heisenberg’s negligence to go unpunished, but we will have to take care of it on our own, without Mother Miranda’s support.”

“Is that wise, love? To go behind her back like this? I can’t imagine she’ll be terribly pleased if we cause chaos for one of her favored few,” you replied, clicking your tongue as you thought things over. Again you see anger cloud Alcina’s face, though she makes sure not to direct it at you.

“We are not the ones who started this mess,” she reminded you, through clenched teeth. “But we will be the ones to end it, one way or another. I don’t care if I have to gut that wretched man-thing and bring Miranda his corpse as proof of his incompetence! He has shown his lack of loyalty hundreds of times… and now he will pay.” Gulping, you rise to your feet, wanting to comfort your girlfriend. While you had understood that your injury angered her, you hadn’t (until this moment) realized the sheer intensity of that rage. How much blood would be shed before this was over?...

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

Crimson drips down the beast’s side, across matted fur, before hitting the wooden floor. A stench as awful as you had ever found filled the air, only made tolerable by the nearby presence of scented candles. What a mess, you think, glad that you wouldn’t be the one to clean it up. Why had the girls insisted on bringing the damn thing inside? Couldn’t they have simply snatched a few teeth from its jaw as a prize? Somehow you doubted that the thought had even crossed their minds. Violence was a passion of theirs, and they preferred their trophies to be as large as the effort they put into getting it.

“How close to the path did you find it?” You asked after finishing your examination of the lycan. Next to you, the eldest daughter is rapidly taking notes in a leather-bound journal. Both of her siblings stand near the fireplace, hands held out next to the flames, needing to warm up after being outside for so long. It wasn’t even that cold of a day, with temperatures averaging around eighteen degrees celsius. All the snowfall from the prior week had now melted. While you knew of the family’s weakness, you also knew that they had bundled up before leaving, and had even taken a torch with them in the hopes of using it on a lycan. Their powers had taken somewhat of a hit, temporarily, but not nearly enough to prevent them from killing a single lycan.

“Heard it howling almost as soon as we left the castle. We couldn’t smell it until halfway to the village, though. Once we could we tried to track it, only for the stupid thing to come charging at us. Must have been eight, maybe ten, meters away by the time we collided,” Cassandra answered. There’s a bit of a shiver to her voice, and you can’t help the rush of sympathy you feel in response. Being out on the path, wearing little more than a dress and scarf, had been absolute hell for you. Even if it was warmer outside now, you imagined that being weak to the cold just about made up for the difference. “There was a little more howling once we started walking back here. Louder, if not closer. Heisenbitch isn’t even trying to keep these fucking things in check.”

“Cassandra, language!” Came a voice in the distance, making everyone present look up at once. Strutting down the stairs was a clearly miffed Alcina, eyes narrowed, body tense. “Did you three really have to bring the mutt inside? Surely you advocated against this, Bela? Or did you think I wanted new bloodstains right by the entrance, where everyone can see them?” Next to you Bela winces, but doesn’t respond, too worried about angering her mother further. “And you, my dear, what on Earth are you doing on the floor? You should be resting, in an actual chair, if not lying in bed awaiting my return. There’s enough for me to worry about without you limping around on a useless leg!”

Now it was your turn to wince.

“Please, love, I know you’re stressed, but I can still help. Given enough time I could help ascertain these things’ weaknesses. At the very least I could pass on what I learned during my fight with one,” you pleaded. Then you tried to stand up, wanting to prove yourself, only to stumble, barely avoiding a faceplant- and only doing so because of Bela’s quick reaction time. She helped you to your feet, letting you lean on her, then lead you towards a bench. Begrudgingly you sit back down. “You’re only doing this because I got hurt. Helping you in your endeavor to avenge me is the least I can do.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Alcina snapped, now just a couple meters away from you. Even with that space between you, her presence was intimidating, and you almost felt like a child being scolded. “Were you to get hurt again, how would we avenge you? If you fall by your own hand, there will be naught I can do other than lock you away somewhere without any dangerous elements. What sort of existence would that be for you? I simply can’t allow it, no exceptions.” At this you pout, feeling rather disappointed. It’s not as if you were asking to carry a gun and shoot Heisenberg yourself! Not that you would be opposed to doing so, of course. “Try to put yourself in my place, my dear. Could you live with yourself if you failed to protect me?”

“I suppose I could not, love. Very well, I shall simply root you on from here, and kiss away any injuries you return with,” you replied, at last giving in. Then you found yourself smiling… and on the receiving end of a very soft forehead kiss. “Nothing will separate us, my love. None can tear apart that which the universe has stitched together.”

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

“Like I said, my Lady, I already want him dead. Did you really think that your family was the only one to suffer because of his machinations? I know half a dozen people who would love to put a bullet in that fucker’s skull, bare mims,” the huntress said, white teeth showing in her half-smirk. There was an odd coolness to her voice, like this whole ordeal was just another job, and you couldn’t help but feel uncertain about her. Could she really be the solution to Alcina’s problem? You couldn’t even judge her arsenal, considering she had been instructed to come unarmed. After all, she was a hunter of monsters, with a sizable history to her name. If not for her hatred of Heisenberg, you would never have felt comfortable letting her come within two hundred meters of your girlfriend.

“How can I be sure that you’ll succeed? The last thing I want is to have that wretched man-thing come crawling out of the filth he lives in, angry and coming for vengeance,” Alcina responded, scrutinizing gaze locked on the huntress.

“Didn’t Duke give you my file? Or at least read the good bits out loud? I’ve been in my fair share of scraps, with all sorts of bioweapon mutant freaks. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving any receipts behind. If he manages to survive, which is already one hell of an if, there’s no way he can prove that you asked me to do it. Considering he’s already seen my face, and knows I want him dead… yeah, he won’t bother accusing you, not when I’m in the picture, and certainly not when you’ve got such a big reputation for following Mother Miranda’s word down to the very last letter. So, you gonna make this official, or what?” The huntress asked, gesturing her arms wide. Although you’re still not convinced, Alcina nods quietly, seeming ready to make her decision. Regardless of how you feel about the stranger in front of you, you’re more than willing to support your girlfriend in whatever she planned.

“Very well, huntress. Show us just what you’re capable of.”

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

Flames licked at her heels, even as she charged forward, tickling like hot breaths against her skin. Behind her half a dozen lycans roared and screeched in unison. Smoke and ashes flew upwards, into the air, but could not poison her lungs, not when she had come prepared. Still, the mask was not as easy to breathe in as she had hoped, making her chest heave with effort at each intake of air. Good thing I’ll be gone soon, she thought, sparing a glance behind her as she ran. Dozens of trees were aflame, and countless glowing eyes watched from between the branches. They wouldn’t be there for much longer, not with what she had done.

Soon enough an explosion would shake the Earth. Then, finally, both the lycans who had killed her father and the man who desecrated the remains would be dead. And if a certain countess happened to pay her for her services? All the better, really. Funerals could be expensive, especially in such a remote village. More than that… there was no guarantee that she’d be able to outrun Mother Miranda on her own. A little money would make the flight out a hell of a lot nicer.

Assuming she made it that far. There was another scream behind her, this one more human, though somewhat warped by mechanics. It wasn’t a pained cry. No, it was filled with rage. Clearly Heisenberg had come out of his lair, hearing the fireworks, finding his scrap metal and werewolf army in chaos. From the sound of things- metal against metal, electricity crackling- he was coming her way.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” She muttered, desperately trying to get to higher ground. Even if the lycans succumbed to the overwhelming fire, it wouldn’t be hard for their leader to overcome. But the huntress was still too close to her explosives to risk activating the detonator. Just a bit farther, she thought, ignoring the way her lungs ached. Rocks kicked up with every step, loud enough to be heard from a distance, and made traction harder to keep. In the end she had to scramble to get up the side of a short cliff. A few scrapes appeared on her hands, making her curse under her breath.

But with one last movement, pulling herself up with both arms, she was finally far enough to be relatively safe. In one clean second she turned around, pulled the detonator out of its pouch and clicked the trigger. Just like that, a forest blazing turns into a mushroom cloud of pure hellfire. The setting sun makes for a beautiful backdrop, and the sight almost brings a tear to the huntress’ eyes. For a few moments she just enjoys the view. Then, without hesitation or remorse, she starts to walk away, mentally congratulating herself for a job well done.

Until something shoots past her head with terrifying speed. Before she can react another sharp piece of metal flies past her, grazing her arm, and there’s a blood-curdling roar from behind her. Then she’s running, fast as she can, pulse pounding harder than it ever has. One hand goes to the rifle on her back, pulling it out as quickly as she can. The area is rocky, with plenty of outcrops, perfect to hide behind (assuming there weren’t any hidden metal deposits). Quickly she ducks behind one, crouching to keep her head out of sight. Mere milliseconds later another metal spike slams into the ground just beyond her cover.

In the distance, more screams pierce the air, and something heavy drags itself across the ground. It almost sounds like a tank rolling through the woods. The thought alone worries the huntress, but she had never been one to let her fear control her. So she double checks her rifle, adjusts the scope, and pops out of cover. Less than a second later she has her target in her sights. It’s Heisenberg, for sure, more metal than man, but dripping with red. One press of the trigger sends a bullet straight for his ugly head. Unsurprisingly, it’s not enough to pierce his cranium, instead making him mad as hell.

Which is why automatic guns were invented, probably. The huntress holds the trigger down this time, though briefly, before dashing to the next piece of cover. She repeats the process a few times, hoping to kill the man before he could climb the cliff she stood on. If he managed to get up there with her… no, she couldn’t think about that, not now. She had to focus.

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

Hidden among the trees, the Dimitrescu sisters watched as plumes of smoke rose in the distance. Even though they had been aware of the huntress’ plan, they hadn’t expected this much carnage. It was certainly exciting! But they really couldn’t see much from where they were. Getting closer was probably a horrible idea, and yet Cassandra shared a meaningful look with Daniela. A split second later they were forming a swarm, rushing into the trees, leaving their elder sister to yell after them.

“Mother’s going to kill me,” Bela said, before rolling her eyes and following. Maybe she could at least keep them out of trouble?... Probably not.

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

Metal hands wrap around the huntress’ throat, squeezing hard, but do not twist or otherwise break their prey. No, Heisenberg does not intend to end this that quickly. This rodent had taken so much from him, set his plans back by decades. He was going to kill her slowly. When she still fights back, pulling a knife from her boot and trying to stab whatever she can reach, he does little else but laugh. It’s a crazed cackling that echoes through the surrounding rocky hills.

Just barely loud enough to drown out the sound of insects buzzing.

“Fuck that guy!” Someone shouted, right as a sickle descended upon the monstrous Heisenberg’s neck. The first slice isn’t enough to sever the connection, which is why it’s immediately followed by a second, from another sister, then a third, from the eldest, that finally does the job. Just like that the hands release from the huntress’ throat, and she gasps for air. Coughs leave her distracted as the sisters move to surround her. “Good thing we wanted to see the show up close and personal, eh?” Daniela asked, twirling her sickle with a little giggle.

“You idiots are just lucky I followed you,” Bela added, glaring at her sister. Internally, she was relieved that the end result was a success. Still, she worried about what her mother would think, and certainly didn’t intend to voice her satisfaction at delivering the killing blow. “Now let’s get back, before mother assumes the worst and comes to get us herself.” Sighing, she extends a hand to help the huntress up. Though their mutual enemy had been defeated, there was still much to be done. Who knew how Mother Miranda would react? Who, if anyone, would take Heisenberg’s place? There was plenty to be unsure about, and Bela let her mind wander the whole way back, hoping that things would only get better from here...

[heartcal]

“who do you believe?”; l.h.

Disclaimer: i didn’t want to write sierra as a bad person because i personally cannot see that, and i know there’s some discourse about her within in the fandom but i don’t want any of that here! so i named the girlfriend after a girl who bullied me in elementary school lol (but another disclaimer: i do not want to see any hate towards the boys’ s/o! pls don’t send any asks that talks bad about them, i will not answer them!)

thank you for requesting! :^)

a/n: while transfering this from microsoft word, the formatting kept screwing up for some reason so if there are some janky paragraphs, i apologize! not too comfortable with this one compared to my previous fic (this feels rushed) but it is long and i did not mean for that to happen lol. enjoy!

if there are any mistakes, please tell me!

pairing(s): not really a mention of luke hemmings x reader but it’s mostly luke hemmings x named gf (rachel/oc) (gender neutral but if i slipped up, please let me know!)

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

genre: angst, and mostly angst >:^)

warnings: swearing, luke’s gf being mean, bullying?

wc: 4,057 (she’s a long one)

my masterlist!

You don’t know when it happened, or frankly how it happened, but one thing is for sure: you don’t want to feel this way.

Was it when he bought you a stuffed animal version of a pet you had as a kid, one that you remember so fondly and still tear up about it to this day? Or was it when he would always bring back a certain candy you can only find in its country of origin, and bring as much as customs would allow? Maybe it was when he printed out every photo he could find from the beginning of your friendship to the present day (at that time) and made a scrapbook for your birthday since you cherish memories?

Whatever memory it was, you want to track it down and destroy it. It wasn’t fair that you developed such strong feelings for your best friend, knowing he doesn’t feel the same since he’s taken.

It’s not that he isn’t attractive – far from that because if anything, you wish you could draw just so you can draw him because there’s no way someone can look that good – but it’s more of the fact that he’s your best friend, someone you hold dear to you.

You two grew up together; saw each other’s worst phases, styles, and embarrassing moments (it was well documented towards the middle of the scrapbook). He was with you when you went through bad break-ups, and you with him. Throughout school, you two were inseparable, and when the band got big he made sure to keep you close and to never lose contact. It was hard in the beginning but you two managed.

Now finished with college, you’ve taken on the role of working with the team when they’re on tour and helping plan aesthetics for the next album. He offered the jobs after you struggled to find a job after graduation, and in the end, you enjoyed being with the guys and doing the tasks needed.

Tonight, the band was set to play their new album to an intimate crowd. It was to welcome back old fans and welcome new fans, introducing both sides to a new sound they worked hard on. You couldn’t be any more proud.

You sat on the couch as the guys walked around the room, pepping themselves up and hyping each other. You had finished doing your tasks with the crew and spent your free time watching the band prepare as the audience began to fill in the theater seats.

A nudge on your arm makes you direct your eyes from Michael styling his hair with a nervous expression to the person on your left.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling at the curly-haired individual.

Luke shrugs, glancing around the room before his eyes land back on you. He has a small smile on his face as he leans back onto the couch, “Nothing.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a smile, “Yeah, sure, ‘nothing,’” you mimic, tilting your head to the side, “I doubt that.”

“What do you want me to say?”

You give him an incredulous look, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. You can tell he’s nervous, like the rest of the team and the band, but he won’t admit it. He’s always wanted others to view him as strong and unbothered, especially when those around him feel off.

He mirrors your position, a smirk on his lips because he knows you’re about to lecture him.

And he’s right.

“Your band has a new album out in a couple of days—an album you guys have worked hard on even when your management gave you shit, mind you—and you’re about to perform a majority of the songs in front of 500. Are you not nervous?”

He shakes his head, smugly smiling as he returns to his position leaning against the couch, watching Ashton dry the wet ends of his hair.

“Liar,” you mumble, uncrossing your arms and taking your phone out to check the time.

“Alright,” Luke sighs, giving in, “maybe I’m a little nervous, but I’m not a wreck.”

He’s still a liar. The success of their last album was astounding, so creating an album to reach that level and hopefully top it was hard enough. Playing it in front of an intimate crowd who may or may not like it was tough.

Luke isn’t cocky. He’s a humble man, but he likes to joke around in stressful situations. He’s used to concerts, so he doesn’t have any anxiety when it comes to performing. But when he is nervous for any reason, he won’t show it. He’ll act cool, completely collected with his head held high in confidence. If he needs to relieve the stress, he’ll either do it himself with a strong pep talk, or he’ll go to you.

“What are you nervous about?” You ask, wanting to make him feel better.

“Will they like it? Will it even chart? Is it too bold?” he continues listing out his insecurities about the album and the performance, finally lifting everything off his chest.

And you listen. The way his eyes stare into yours with slight confidence, covered by worry makes your heart sore. Luke’s kept everything inside and now that he’s listing his grievances, it makes you wonder just what else you can get out of him that he’s kept buried inside.

However, before you can give him your insight on this particular problem, “Luke!”

His head immediately turns to the door, the worry in his eyes fading out into sheer happiness and adoration. Something you’ve always wanted to see directed towards you.

Luke stands arms wide as he captures his girlfriend in his arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms go around her shoulders, dipping his head down to kiss her on the head.

“I can’t believe you made it!” you hear him speak with excitement, expressing more words of happiness as he guides her to another part of the room.

You don’t miss the way her eyes glare in your direction, and you’re not afraid to give her a look back.

Rachel was nice when you met her. You actually liked her, despite your crush on Luke, and you were rooting for the two. But, a couple months ago during a stressful week, she turned on you. Her attitude towards you shifted, almost as if you had disrespected her and her bloodline. She would always act as if you weren’t in the room, and when plans were made with the boys, she would “accidentally” leave you out. It was embarrassing for you when you’d find out your friends went out, calling you to find out why you didn’t come. Due to the embarrassment, you would go along with it, making up some excuse as to why you were absent.

None of the boys, to your knowledge at least, have caught on to her antics, and you honestly hope they don’t. Whatever it is you did to her, you want to find out for yourself so you can fix it.

With a sigh, you stand from the couch, stretching your arms briefly before wandering to Calum, who stood in the shower room connected to the dressing room.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

He smiles back, finishing his drink before tossing the plastic cup in the trash. He grabs his bass, which was placed on the counter, and holds it out to you.

“You want me to see if it sounds out of tune?” you jokingly ask.

He nods, “Yeah, I feel like one of the chords might be flat.”

You chuckle as you pluck a random chord. His instruments are always tuned before it’s time to play. One of his pre-show nervous ticks was the constant doubt of his instruments being playable.

“It’s fine, Calum.”

The doubt shows on his face as he brings his guitar back to himself, putting it on and checking the chords himself, but it doesn’t last long as Ashton’s voice calls everyone to the center of the room.

Walking with Calum to where the rest of the crew was, you notice how attached Luke was to Rachel. Joint at the hip, arms wrapped around each other; it was annoying.

“Show starts in ten,” Ashton gains your attention, holding up a cup as Michael hands Calum a similar cup before doing the same to Luke. The three follow the drummer’s action as he continues, “let’s make this show fuckin’ awesome.”

The crew cheers, dying down quickly as Michael gives his thoughts, “We worked our asses off for this album, I don’t have any doubts about it. We got this, guys!”

The cheers resume as those with a drink take a celebratory sip before placing their empty cup on a surface near them.

Calum leaves your side to join Michael while Ashton heads to you.

“You excited?” he asks, putting his right arm around your shoulders with a large smile.

“Yeah!” you return the smile, “What about you? Nervous like the others?”

He shakes his head, crinkling his nose, “I’m not too nervous. I’m just happy to play again.”

You’re about to ask him what song he was the most excited to play, starting to get into the conversation but yet again you are interrupted by Rachel.

“Hey, Ash,” she greets him, Luke following close behind her as his arms make their way back around her shoulders again.

“Hi, Rachel,” Ashton nods his head at her – his eyes dance to Luke briefly before returning to Rachel’s, “didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Couldn’t miss your big show,” she smiles, looking up at her boyfriend as she pats his stomach.

Luke laughs, gently pushing her hand away from him, “I’m surprised, too—“ he grabs the guitar a crew member hands him, left arm lifting itself from Rachel’s shoulder as he slips the strap over his head, “—because her schedule did not look clear enough, but here she is.”

“Three minutes,” a different crew member rushes out, patting Luke and Ashton’s shoulders before rushing to tell the others.

“See you after,” Luke shifts his guitar away from Rachel before leaning down to kiss her on the lips – something you wish you didn’t see – and turning around to head out of the dressing room.

Ashton gives you a quick hug, “Excited for the lights,” he mumbles in your ear before turning to Rachel to give her a side hug.

It doesn’t go unnoticed how Rachel’s eyes glared at you by Ashton, but he doesn’t mention it as he heads out with the other guys towards the stage.

As a majority of the crew follow them out, you stay behind to clean up the empty cups and other trash, trying to occupy yourself as Rachel too stayed behind.

Her eyes followed you as you moved about the room, carrying the small plastic bag with you as it fills up with cups and wrappers. You could feel the glare burning into your side and back as you paid her no mind.

When it was just you two left, the bass from their opening song was heard and felt as you finished picking up the garbage.

“For how long have you liked Luke?”

You froze. Your head whipped towards Rachel, wide-eyed as you glanced around the room to make sure it was just the two of you.

“What…what are you talking about?” You can feel an extreme warmth rising up from the bottom of your back, all the way to your face, nervousness clouding your brain as she stares you down.

“Luke—,” she crosses her arms and moves to the couch, “how long have you liked Luke?”

“I don’t—I,” you stutter, your stomach dropping as you realize you’ve been caught.

His girlfriend knows you like him.

“Cut the bullshit,” she spits, “I can see it. You’ve been friends with him for years, you obviously caught feelings for him.”

You shake your head, standing up straight to give off the illusion of confidence. Turning your back to her and towards the door, “I don’t have to talk to you.”

You opted for walking out of the dressing room and go watch the band from the side of the stage, but you made a quick stop in the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

You did what you could to avoid her during their performance. You knew she was watching you, seething at how you ended the conversation so fast.

Rachel wanted to break you down, find the reason why you like him and separate you two for as long as it takes to make him fall in love with her. She finds you a problem in their relationship because of how close you and Luke are, because of how long you’ve known each other. A threat to her and her relationship.

An hour and a half later, the show is finished and the whoops and cheers from the crowd indicate the album was very well received. That thought swept the interaction with Rachel from earlier under the rug as the boys’ adrenaline spread throughout the crew.

Ashton was first to greet you, sweaty and ready to envelop you in a hug but you’re quick to avoid it, ducking down just as his arms closed around the space where your head was. He laughs it off, heading for his next victim.

Next was Calum, who grabbed a drink from Andy and gulped it down. He had a smile on his face after, only growing wider when he saw you. “I think they liked it!”

“Bass in tune, huh?” you return, patting his back as he passes you to go to the next person.

Michael is the third, taking off his hat (which made you question why he was so worried about his hairstyle that he spent at least fifteen minutes playing with before the show). He stops in front of you, phone in hand as he takes a picture of the two of you: a tradition he started a few tours ago as a joke.

Finally, Luke makes his way towards you, ready to ramble about the show but is brisked away by Rachel. He doesn’t even glance over at you after he’s taken away towards the hall.

Entering the dressing room where the rest of the boys sat, you saw Michael talking animatedly on the phone, Calum laying across the couch with an arm over his eyes, and Ashton wiping off excess sweat with a towel. He was the first one to notice you.

“Ready for that hug?” he asks as you approach him.

“Why not.”

You hug each other, smiling as you pulled away. In the distance, over the cool-down music, you hear Luke’s laughter in the hall. Knowing he’s with Rachel makes you wonder if she’s told him about her suspicions, and that thought alone makes you clam up all over again.

Ashton immediately notices, tilting his head as he asks you what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” you quickly reply, eyes focusing on him.

He notices how jittery you seem, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he says nothing.

“Guys,” Andy comes in with his camera in hand, “we need to take a few photos.”

The three agree and follow the photographer out. You move to the snack table for a bottle of water, but before you can take a sip, someone clears their throat in the doorway.

You roll your eyes immediately because you know who it is. You don’t pay her any attention and instead take the sip of water you need.

“We need to finish that conversation you oh-so rudely ended,” Rachel moves into the room, keeping her voice down as she crosses her arms.

“We don’t need to finish anything.”

She scoffs, “I asked you a question, and you were so quick to avoid it. I think you’re proving a point.”

“What point?” you turn to look at her, “I know you don’t like me but I don’t know why, can we start with that?”

“Like I said before, I know you like Luke. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t like how he’s close to you.”

“We grew up together,” you state, standing tall as you glare at her, “of course we’re going to be close.”

“Well I don’t like it,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a sigh, closing the lid to the bottle as you turn your back to her. You were getting angry at the fact that someone who didn’t know Luke as long as you did was hinting that you should stay away from him.

“Stop hanging out with him.”

A curt laugh escapes you before you can stop it, “Are you jealous of our friendship?”

“No,” she smirks, “but I know you’re jealous of our relationship.”

She’s right; you’re only a little jealous of their relationship, but it’s not something you want to risk your friendship with.

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but you’re caught off-guard when nothing comes out. The one opportunity to make her believe you don’t like her boyfriend and you can’t say anything.

Giving up with sinking shoulders, you glance at the door before looking back at her. Grimacing at her knowing smile, “How did you find out?”

She hums, “It was easy. I love him, so I know what it looks like to look at someone you love. You made it so obvious, I’m surprised no one else found out!”

You grit your teeth. You did your damn best to make sure no one, especially Luke or Rachel, know how you feel about him.

“I’m not intimidated by you,” she walks closer to you, arms uncrossing as her hands move to her hips, “but I won’t deny the fact that you and Luke have chemistry.”

“What will it take—” you place the bottle back on the table, “—for you to leave me alone?”

“Do the same to him.”

“What?”

“Leave him alone, unfriend him,” she shrugs, “simple as that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you walk around her to the door, ready to end the conversation.

“Do that or I’ll tell him,” with a harsh tone she walks towards you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” another voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump, “that’s enough.”

Ashton walks into the room, grabbing Rachel’s hand and removing it from your arm.

“W—” she stutters out as she watches the tall man move to stand in front of you.

“I came back for my drumsticks—” his eyes shift to the object sticking out of his bag before dropping down to Rachel, “—but instead I find you, what, threatening a good friend of ours?”

Rachel is speechless while you’re frozen. It was embarrassing enough for one person to find out about your crush on Luke, but now Ashton might know and you want to go into hiding.

“Let it go,” you tug on Ashton’s shirt to get his attention but he doesn’t move.

“Telling someone who’s known your boyfriend longer than your relationship to just abandon him is low, Rachel. Don’t think the way you’ve been treating our friends has gone unnoticed.”

You hear more footsteps approaching the room, and now you wish the ground can swallow you up. You don’t want all this attention on you.

“What’s happening here?” Michael says as he peeks into the room, Luke behind him as Calum leans against the other side of the doorway.

“Nothing—,” Rachel tries to deflect but with four pairs of eyes on her, it becomes too much. Tears start pouring out, and you’re in disbelief.

How can she be the one crying after she was the one who was rude to you?

Luke immediately rushes in, creating a beeline right to her side to wrap her in his arms.

His eyes dart to yours, an emotion on his face of something you’ve never seen, but you know it’s not good.

“What did you do?”

You’re taken back by his tone and the way his angry eyes stare you down. It hurts because instead of staying neutral and finding out what exactly happened, he immediately chose a side: a side of someone he’s known for only for a short amount of time.

“Mate,” Ashton speaks up for you, “I think you’re asking the wrong person that.”

“No,” Luke’s voice raises, eyes moving from yours to stare into his band mate’s, “I’m asking the right person.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes welling with tears as the weight of everything happening within the last ten minutes starts to bring you down. Your eyes move away from the ones boring into yours, and with a tremble in your voice, “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who started—.”

“Bullshit!” Luke’s roar cuts you off, “Absolute bullshit, because if she started it, then why is she the only one crying?!”

The two other guys move in to the room to mediate the situation.

“Luke, calm down,” Michael’s hands raise to the motion of ‘calm down’ as he tries to get Luke’s attention.

“There’s gotta be more to the story,” Calum moves to your side, checking on you briefly.

“Don’t,” Luke states as he watches Calum grab your shoulders to move you out of the room.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Ashton questions. He watches Luke soothingly rub Rachel’s back, wiping her tears with his free hand.

“My girlfriend is crying and you two were the only ones in here,” Luke replies, gently grabbing Rachel’s arms so he can look directly into her eyes, “what happened, babe?”

“I asked them—,” Rachel sniffles, continuing her façade, “—if they needed any help cleaning the room earlier and they yelled at—at me and told me to go away. Then after the show when you guys went for your photos, I came here to apologize to her, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She was selling it; the tears, the sniffling, the stutters, and hiccups. A great actress who knows what she wants.

“That’s not true,” you inhale, your ears feeling warm and ringing, “she has had a problem with me lately and I don’t know why!”

Luke scoffs, shaking his head, wrapping Rachel in his arms again.

“C’mon,” Michael mumbles, wanting to leave the room.

Ashton turns around, watching your face go from pleading to blank as the tears fall from your eyes. He turns his head to face Luke, “You’re unbelievable,” he grabs your shoulders and starts to move you out of the room, “let’s go.”

Michael is already out of the room, the tension too much for him and ruining the after-show vibe. Calum is waiting by the door ready to help lead you out. Ashton has you turned around, pushing you towards the door.

“Wait, Luke,” you mumble, getting out of Ashton’s hold and turning back to face Luke.

He doesn’t look at you, sighing as he rubs Rachel’s head as it’s against his chest.

“Please,” you plead, begging him to look at you and when he does, you ask, “who do you believe?”

“What?”

“Who do you believe, Luke,” you gulp with a sniffle, “me or her?”

For a moment, you think you see hesitation. His jaw tenses as he stares you down, his best friend for years and someone he turned to when times got tough. He then looks down at the girl in his arms, someone he loves crying into his chest.

He sighs again, this time soft, before looking up to meet your eyes. He does notice the tears, the pain etched on your face as his other best friends watch them. “I believe Rachel.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Ashton mutters as he gently grabs your shoulders again to lead you out of the room.

You let the tears fall freely, not meeting any of the boys’ eyes as you kept your head face down.

You’ve lost your best friend. He chose someone else over you, a lie he chose to believe.

Whatever it was that made you catch feelings for your best friend, you wish you can find it and destroy it, along with any other memory you’ve made with him. After tonight, you want him erased from your cherished memories.

---

part two!

[saphirered]

Would an individual ask about Caleb ending up with the reader instead of Essek at the end of campaign be alright? I love the wizard bois together, but I'm crushing baaaad on Caleb hehe. Maybe they teach and live happily ever after together, very domestic living after all the adventures they've had :3

Hoping to satisfy your Caleb crush. How's this for some domestic fluff? Enjoy! 😘

The first rays of sunlight are blocked by thick heavy curtains. Awake or asleep, Caleb’s sense of time never fails him. He wakes up bright and early on the minute precise but makes no move to truly start his day. How could he with the sight he wakes to? There you lay, in his arms, eyes closed in peaceful sleep. Never did he think he’d see you so relaxed, or allow yourself to be so relaxed. Sure your lives are not free of stress or the occasional disaster and rarely are your livelihoods in peril these days but compared to months ago that doesn’t even come close to the dangers you’ve faced together; dangers that the majority of the people will never know about. A moment of peace and quiet was just another luxury you and him couldn’t truly afford no matter how much you may have pretended. But now you finally know peace.

Caleb watches your eyes flutter beneath your eyelids and watches just a moment longer carefully trailing his fingers up from their place on your waist to your cheek, caressing it fondly as you sleep. He reminisces when and where your lives intertwined in that tavern in Trostenwald and the events leading you both here together in your shared apartment in Rexxentrum at the Soltryce Academy as respectable teachers of the arts you both love.

When you first met Caleb feared you. He feared you more than anything for you just like him had ties to the Cerberus Assembly but you did not suffer the same fate he had. Luckily your studies were of no interest of his former master and you were instead claimed by another sent out into the world to learn more and find your own way. He was so scared you might lead the Assembly to his nonexistent doorstep and at one point entertained the thought you were a spy sent to bring him back but you proved the opposite. When he revealed his story and you told him you would help him or die trying beside him he brushed you off. Persistent as you are you gave him the wakeup call of a lifetime saying that you’re not doing this just for him but everyone before him, everyone after him.

To Caleb you will always represent all that is good and pure in this world despite the horrors that may have shaped you, changed you for better or worse. He will always consider himself to be the luckiest man in the world to have you at his side as his confidant, moral compass, study-mate, intellectual equal, bailout, friend, partner, but most of all; his lover for he could not want for anyone else in the world. No one could ever replace you and no one can compare to you. You may tell him you’re not the most intelligent, quick-witted, charming or interesting individual in the world but to him you are and he will argue with you on that until you grow tired of him and are forced to accept. He certainly does not mind the fluster of your cheeks and kiss you offer to shut him up.

And now you lie asleep cuddled up against him, limbs intertwined, the sunset orange covers slipping from your shoulder. Caleb hears the birds begin their song signalling he must leave the warm comforts of your embrace so carefully he begins to untangle his legs from yours, his arm from underneath your head replacing it by quickly pulling the pillow above down. He begins to untangle your grasp on his shirt slowly removing your fingers one by one. A deep intake of breath on your end and adjustment of your legs below the covers has him worried he’s woken you up.

Caleb knows fully well you have your own ways of waking up on time and you would have asked him the night before if he ought to wake you, so since you’re not already awake he’ll give you every extra minute of sleep you can get. You deserve it so he’ll curse himself if he’s the one to ruin it. Once you have adjusted and he’s sure you’re still sleeping he continues and removes himself from the warm comforts you’re huddled up among longing for nothing more than to share them a minute longer and gathers his things. In putting his lesson plans, notes and a few books to pass the time for the day he bends down to allow the orange tabby to jump into his arms and sets the cat onto the table taking a moment to stroke its fur and give some chin scratches leaving the little beastie purring.

Ridding himself of his night clothes Caleb puts on his shirt, and trousers tucking the shirt into the waistband and moves on to his footwear as per his usual routine. He takes the vest set out for him and is about to button it up when he feels eyes on him. His first thoughts go to the cat but that one’s not the guilty audience so instead his eyes fall to you, propped up against the headboard watching him.

“Well don’t stop on my accord. Though, I prefer the clothes back on the chair.” Your voice is still riddled with sleep but you’re awake enough for your comments so Caleb feels justified to give you a disapproving scowl though he cannot prevent the smile from creeping up his lips.

“Good morning to you too.” Caleb smiles as you cover a yawn with the back of your hand. You pull yourself out of the bed and stumble over to Caleb until you’re toe to toe placing a hand on his cheek guiding him into a kiss. Your lips move against his and his arms wrap around you to return and welcome your efforts openly. Though, enough’s enough and Caleb breaks the kiss giving you one final peck in an attempt to kiss away the onset disappointment and pout on your end.

“No matter how much I’d like to continue, Astrid will have both of our heads we show up late.” Caleb runs his fingers through your hair kissing your cheek as you cross your arms. Is there nothing you can do to convince him to stay? He might be right about Astrid…

“Well, I do not have any classes until second period but if you’re so adamant to stay with me I can send the archmage a message to tell her you’re regretful to be missing your first class of the day and to find a substitute.” You’re joking. Not really. A joke hiding the actual offer. Caleb considers it for a brief moment purely to entertain the thought but he knows very well he shouldn’t.

“You know we can’t but how about I make it up to you with dinner and dancing and a night in? Just the two of us.” Caleb cups your cheeks stroking your cheekbones with his thumbs, a gesture he knows very well makes you melt.

“That sounds like an agreeable offer, professor Widogast.” Your acceptance brings another bright smile to his face and he pulls you into another chaste kiss to seal the deal. This time you’re the one to pull away.

“Best get you ready for the day then, lest you be late.” Your nimble fingers stroke down the front of his chest finding the buttons of his vest and one by one buttoning them up. Once you’re done you take a few steps back looking him over.

“Do I pass your inspection, professor?” Caleb laughs half the mind to do a little spin for you but he refrains instead lifting the cat from the table into his arms.

“With flying colours. I think his highness is inclined to agree.” You watch as the cat meows making himself comfortable in your wizard’s arms without any intent to go anywhere but alas, all good things come to an end be it for the cat or you. With some protests Caleb puts the cat back on the ground allowing the creature to skitter off to gods know where.

You pull open the curtains allowing the light of dawn to fill the room. Caleb already regrets the decision of not taking you up on your offer to call in late and miss his first class as you look absolutely radiant but he feels certain both of you will be missing second and possibly even third period if he does, so he must refrain. Tonight will make up for it. He’s already got the perfect place in mind for dinner.

You catch Caleb staring, his gaze following you as you pull at the heavy fabric until the outside world is revealed to you. You put a little sway in your step before you gather your own clothes for the day and change in your usual attire, slowly. Deliberately slow. If he’s already staring you better not waste your opportunity and make a show of it.

“No use in staying in bed all alone. His Highness makes for good company but he’s a dull conversationalist. Perhaps I’ll drop by Beau at the Archives?” You deliberate your events for the morning tapping your chin.

“If you do, tell the Expositor I have some more files for her to study.” Caleb, finally pulled out of his trance steps back over to you, or rather besides you to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. You know he’s about to be off so you wrap your arm around his waist as you guide him to the door. Not much you can change about the need for students to be taught the wonders of transmutation magic. While you may find times you’d want to spend more time together, in the end neither of you would ever want to give up teaching. There’s plenty of other times you can spend together happily. Or you can justify combining your classes for one reason or another as you love nothing more than to share your passions.

“I’ll see you in a few hours at the Academy?” Caleb watches as you fall silent for a moment, your focus drawn away.

“Yes, I’ll make sure he knows. We’ll be there. Thank you.” You speak but Caleb knows fully well it’s not directed at him. This has become a habit he’s very much gotten used to so he simply awaits for you to share the message.

“Astrid wants us for lunch. She threatened to limit your access to the library if you’re late.” Of course she does, Caleb thinks to himself. So the archmage may or may not have heard about his almost-arrest of the day before. He’d already gotten an earful from you.

“Of course she does. There go our lunch plans for our free period.”

“You’re the one to get arrested for- and I quote ‘encourage insurgence among young impressionable souls’.” You grin. Okay, you may have been a little proud of Caleb actively trying to do better but you could do without the accusations of treason. You’d rather not have Caleb spend the night in jail because word got out or he pissed off the wrong person. You’d expect this from Beauregard but had hoped Caleb would be more careful about it and so apparently thought Astrid. He’s in for a scolding according to her tone.

“Merely teaching young impressionable souls how to be better. Is that a crime?” You grab Caleb’s coat and help him into it as he offers you a ‘thank you’.

“According to the king, yes it is.” The amusement in your voice is enough to earn you a playful glare. You open the door for Caleb and he steps halfway out offering you one final kiss.

“Love you.” Caleb pecks your lips. You’ve drawn out the length of the kiss long enough and he’s already on the verge of running late now so no matter how much he may want to stay, he has to go.

“Love you too, Caleb. See you soon and for the love of the arcane arts; stay out of trouble.” You know he won’t make that promise as he can’t keep it but you still tell him to every time. You kiss his cheek stepping back and watching the wizard leave as you close the door. Nothing but a usual morning; sneaking out of bed, cats, kisses, a message from your friend the archmage, talks of treason and the love of two fate-entwined mages trying to make the world a better place.

[katatonicimpression]

Thoughts about the Iceman mini series a few weeks on:

I'm surprised by how positive I still feel about it. I was expecting my enthusiasm to be at least 70% "new content finally omg" and fade a lot over time, but actually I still feel really good about it.

Thinking about what other people have said:

A lot of the backlash I've seen is from people who just really don't vibe with the art style which is a) completely valid but b) not really a complaint I care about. Like, for instance, I can't watch Rick and Morty - the animation makes me feel physically ill idk it's so off-putting - but I couldn't use that as an argument for or against the overall quality of the show. It's not bad necessarily - it's just a style I don't like. It's just one of those things.

I've seen some people complain about the Romeo thing, and tbh I really don't care. Some people have made it out to be problematic, but I don't buy into that, which I've talked about elsewhere. And I've also seen some people complain that Romeo isn't really an independent character and it's bad for that reason. This is funny to me because Bobby's last love interest was Christian and that was the biggest non-event let's be real.

It's fine if Bobby goes on dates with a side character. Like, I cannot stress enough how much it is not a problem that he has a random love interest that isn't a pre-existing major character. And it's weird to see people suggesting "fixes" to this that are just ludicrous ideas narrative-wise? Maybe people need to stop viewing characters' relationships as their assigned endgame ship, and instead see this storylines as what they are. i.e. stories.

Some negatives:

I think my biggest worry about this in general has nothing to do with the mini-series itself, and has more to do with Duggan, and Bobby's writing outside of his solo appearences.

I can't imagine anything from this series being revisited or continued by Duggan in a way that isn't just plain awful. I think Vecchio's done a good job of filling in the void left by Marauders, but what good does that do if he spends another few years in limbo? I can appreciate the series as its own, standalone thing. But still - I have very low expectations going forward.

The global warming thing is a funny thing to bring up, but idk maybe it would be funnier as a tweet. I do like the ever present implication that 616 earth just has way worse pollution and eco damage than the real world, and that's why the Storm and Bobby can't fix everything. Maybe whatever Tony Stark is up to is just environmental poison. Maybe the human torch's carbon footprint really is that bad.

Another thing I've thought of is that there are aspects of Bobby's character that didn't get explored here and maybe could have been. Bobby's dad is Catholic, and his mum is Jewish. This didn't get brought up in this comic at all, and it's not like it had to be, but like. Ok, so the way I interpret it is that the mixed nature of Bobby's heritage is less about his own beliefs and lifestyle (you never get the impression he's particularly religious in the first place, or that he has any angst about fusing the two different cultural traditions), but more about the way he feels inadequate and out-of-place. Like, he's got all these insecurities and imposter syndrome, and his childhood experience of "I don't belong anywhere" is a part of that. I bring it up because THIS IS TOTALLY RELEVANT to the themes of this series and could have fit in seamlessly.

Some positives:

Related to the last thing, I did really appreciate how the series directly confronts the "living up to your potential" thing and calls it out as a false and harmful way of understanding his life. Yes, this was the original unsubtle theme of the 90s storyline, but seeing as Duggan seems to not understand it, it's worth repeating it. Bobby does belong, he's not an imposter. I really appreciate this.

I also think Vecchio is good at handling the omega mutant thing. Like, ok so if you're writing Storm or Magneto or whoever, you know that it's never a question of whether or not they can do The Impressive Thing with their powers. It's a matter of when and how, and what their internal journey is like. This is not super complicated by hey, Duggan struggles with it so I guess it's worth spelling out. It's not inherently impressive or interesting for Bobby to get really big, or survive an injury, or freeze a lot of stuff. And it's weird for him to brag about it when he does. It's about putting something creative on the page, and about feeling feelings.

I loved the bit about being distant from humanity. That was on point for the character.

He should get to keep the facial hair.

He's being drawn too blue in other comics. Vecchio goes for mostly white with blue accents and that's fine, but not the only way of doing things. There are tons of good blue Icemen out there. But he shouldn't be looking like Dr. Manhattan. Just move that cursor up a little bit on the old colour diamond. Please. For me.

[abittersweetsongforyou]

wtfock fic recs part 2

saddle up for pt 2 babyyyy

wtfock fic recs pt 1

the underrated (just read them trust me they're brilliant)

wishing, wanting and longing by dottori

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart by orphan_account This isn't our first time around by noobishere this is us, through your eyes by dottori - with yasminas season starting id like to draw everyones attention to this fic from yasminas pov its sweet and sentimental and lovely and the fact that it has under 100 kudos is a fucking crime Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) by berrevy - i love this author so much and this fic is so good, i love the way they're written here, the description is beautiful, 10/10 A morning without you is a dwindled dawn by Createdforyou - so soft i love seeing them just living their lives together Elayna Aan Zee by zetaphiuchi(ryuujitsu) - this one is sad and maybe sander forgives too quickly but its beautifully written and i love it you're an angel in disguise (you're an angel in my eyes) by thekardemomme - this is so sweet and lovely and warm everyone should read it I do now. by irregardlxss - robbe tells jens about the hate crime dreaming of you by ivy_seas - just them being happy at christmas time hold all my cliches on the tip of my tongue by nbrook - they're dorks and they're too horny for their own good but they love each other very much i've never been in love (but i wanna be, i wanna be) by ladypeaceful - what if sander took noors place at the party in episode 1 we have the stars (and this is given once only) by merengue - military au but also childhood friends and its so soft and beautiful and they love each other so much Agents Sliding Down The Chimney by berrevy - i seriously cannot recommend berrevy enough this is a christmas fic thats a little sad but also a whole lot sweet and very real which is what i like

angst bby

I follow you (deep sea, baby) by emotionalgoblin - sander pines in my mind, in my head by cubedmango - canon divergence for s3 last two episodes

gonna help you be free, honey by lamourestout - aftermath of the hate crime

We're always gonna be contaminated by nbrook - sander fucked upppp and everyone is sad but they communicate so its fine

the night we met by themoongirl - college au, sad boys :(((

show me some stars (beneath this ceiling) by peaceoutofthepieces - five times robbe wishes he could wake up next to sander and one time he does You're always there for me by nbrook - the s4 car accident aftermath (don't want anything) but all of you by MajorAccent - s4 car accident but extra extra angsty i know someone who kisses the way (a flower opens) by romantiser robbe and sander see each other again after sander paints the mural

sander and robbe being so in love it hurts

he is the one by themoongirl - marriage proposal im soft

I'm holding my breath, as the seasons change by bruisingknees - robbe moves out of the flatshare

new year's eve by themoongirl - sander is sad but robbe is soft

all you never say by nothingbutniall - fluffffff

you're the one that i want by themoongirl - sander needs reassurance

dark paradise by luckycharmz - sander is coming out of a low and robbe takes care of him

i was grounded (while you filled the skies) by wafflesofdoom - theyre in love okay

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance by allforyoumylove - theyre childhood friends and theyre in love

oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight by alsjeblieft - sander painting robbe

Early Morning Dancing by teen_content_queen - flatmates dance in the morning v v cute

(inside my head) I've been at war by nothingbutniall - they're so soft pls

The sun came up and I was looking at you by allforyoumylove

Baby, Home Is In Your Arms by clarecas - robbe comes home to sander after his exam

don't be scared, you are my rock by peaceoutofthepieces - sander is sad but robbe is there purple lips (underwater) by dottori - fluff so much fluff i love it sm

in all your gorgeous colors by nothingbutniall - sander paints robbe you're still the that i love (the only one i dream of) by thekardemomme - i couldve also put this in the angst category but they just love each other so much its so beautiful My darling, I'm rooting for you by allforyoumylove - sander is having a depressive episode and robbe loves him fully formed, ready to run by MajorAccent - sander is down and robbe just wants to be with him paper rings by thekardemomme - they love each other so much and theyre going to get married one day i've always wanted a (boyfriend) by thekardemomme - christmas is sanders favourite holiday and robbe doesnt love christmas but he loves sander Come lie with me by allforyoumylove - they're roommates but they cuddle and fall in love glimpses by foxsake5 - theyre just living their lives, being in love, as they should

boyfriends being boyfriends

I absolutely adore you but we're absolute beginners by nbrook - sander is adorable

boy, i fucking got you by noobishere - yeah its rated e but its so sweet okay

Lovesick by szamsson - sander picks robbe up from school

you're a wonder under summer sky by nothingbutniall - boyfriends go camping

memories painted with much brighter ink by nothingbutniall - Christmas gift giving at the flatshare

we're keeping it simple by noobishere - eenvoud babyyyyy

Meet me in the hallway by nbrook - ahsdka Milan

double date. by fockinglevendcliche - double date with amber and aaron

back to the beach house. by fockinglevendcliche - sander wants to get it on and robbe is weak but their friends are assholes

take me with your constant shame by peaceoutofthepieces - cute date hold me close by sincerelysobbe - robbe is stressed and sander is the best boyfriend you charge me up (like electricity) by howlingsaturn - secret boyfriends if you say swim by soundnvision - another date another pool Modern Love by angelboygabriel - okay yes this is e rated but their. boyfriends and they're happy they're just also horny mkay You make me feel like I am whole again by nbrook - robbe has a rough day but sander is there being all cute and making it better I've been looking so long at these pictures of you by nbrook - much banter very cute You're my favourite kind of night by nbrook - at a halloween party finally kissing the right people Show me a piece of your heart, show me a piece of your love by nbrook - boyfriend tag for the broerrrs channel, unfinished but so much fun thus far working double time by noobishere - sander is wearing a turtleneck and he looks hot in it Ground Control by angelboygabriel - christmas clinging and sex because why not oh and they're in love hopeless romantics by thekardemomme - it's their anniversary and ugh they love each other sm sander driesen versus a mistletoe by dottori - its christmas and sander just wants to fucking kiss robbe okay high for this by flowermaze - sander is drowsy and still finds time to flirt with robbe All You've Got to Do Is Win by berrevy - they actually do play that tennis match years kept in minutes by peaceoutofthepieces - they have traditions and its adorable pls love is the opening door by cryingcancer - robbe and sander facetime on their anniversary after sander was sappy on instagram Home by foxsake5 - sander is a massive simp and robbe looks hot in a robe You don't have to say you're mine by nbrook - robbe is a little insecure and sander is there to reassure him Distracting by sincerelysobbe - v v v cute jahsdjah sander is weak for robbe we all understand bro February 14th, 2021 by foxsake5 - no words bro just cute af if we can make it through december (maybe we'll make it through forever) by nothingbutniall - sobbe at the christmas market This = Love by nbrook - robbe is hungover and sander loves to tease him They ain't living life like this by Createdforyou - halloween but this year they're together

sexy times

Woensdag 16:36 by Anonymous

i don't even wanna fuck, i just like you by eversincewefellapart

Vrijdag 18:26 by Anonymous - hurt and comfort

video phone by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - quarantine times

Don't know where I'm going from here (but I promise it won't be boring) by skamsnake

snakebite by Anonymous

Zaterdag 09:58 by foxsake5

Wildfire by sincerelysobbe - no smut just kissing but they steamy

come on (mess me up) by MajorAccent - sex but tender 🥺

The Teenage Trifecta by little_but_fierce

i glow pink in the night in my room (blossoming alone over you) by midsummernightoddity

life is a pop of the cherry by icedwhitemocha - the hotel

Ik Win by Anonymous

In his arms tonight by allforyoumylove

long may he reign by tokyometropolis(meohorany) - well considered smut jsdhjhd

Draw Me Closer by skamsnake

When I live my dream (please be there to meet me) by skamsnake

we click, we go boom! by strangeparties Dark Red by nancy_mcfly - friends with benefits play the game of grown-ups by Anonymous - they have a lot of sex but its because they're in love

[witch-hazels-musings]

is this all i have?

^ hey all, a little different fic I have for you today.

If you decide to read it, it’ll give you some insight into why I haven’t been posting a lot ... it says more than I probably would normally share about my struggles but @genshin-karebear encouraged me to be honest and, so, here I am. (thank you, friend)

Warnings -> negative self-talk, comfort, one curse word 

I sat at my desk, head in my hands and tears on the verge of spilling over the edges of my eyes. For days I’d been struggling, frantically, painfully trying to get back into the swing of things with nothing to show for it other than tear stained clothes and empty pieces of paper.

Where did it all go? Where was the spark that used to ignite in my heart when I sat down to write the words which once came so easy? Am I spent, have I used up all that skill in a matter of months … what’s wrong with me.

A single tear cascaded down my cheek as I stared at the massive nothingness that lay before me. The taunting paper which looked back at like a score card of failures after failures, as if to remind me that I will never be a person worthy of it’s time. I rubbed my eyes, pushing my glasses over my brow and feeling the hot liquid which rested in them, this would be the tenth time I’ve done this today.

“I’m just spent and I don’t know what I’m going to do anymore.” My lip quivered, my cheeks became wet, my eyes blurry. “I’m a failure.” I whispered to myself shaking my head and holding onto the last ounce of energy I could muster - it didn’t matter that the sun was warm and shined through my window, there was nothing strong enough to push through my veil of despair.

I looked out the window and saw the world move on around me; it never waits, while it pushes on I’m left behind. The trees continue to spread out their leaves in an attempt to soak up the necessary nutrients they need to survive, seeds float on the wind looking for a place to rest, bugs move from place to place at random, the cat lounges on the chair lost in its dreams as its fur is warmed by the sun I cannot seem to feel. I’m jealous of that cat.

I contemplate getting up and doing something different, but there is a voice inside of me that tells me to push through, to keep going and write something - put anything down on this piece of paper. Fuck you, paper … you are nothing to me and yet you have total control over my pen. I’m angry and frustrated at an inanimate object when I should really be mad at myself. It’s my fault I cannot get anything out --- I’m broken, that must be the only answer.

The tears have all fallen, water droplets speckle the parchment and my eyes look onward without any ounce of life left. I feel empty and hollow, I have no more energy for it all and so I lay down the pen, drop my head to the table and close my eyes.

I don’t know how long I sit like this, time has been moving so slowly for me as of late that this feels like nothing new. I don’t even hear the sound of the door opening, or footsteps headed my way. In fact, I barely register there is another presence in the room until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Hazel?” I stir, but only enough to turn my head onto its side and glance at the person who called me by name, a name I didn’t feel I had the right to claim. I looked up and felt my stomach drop, of course it would be him … the one person who I continued to fail over and over again. “Are you okay?”

I bit the inside of my lip, desperate to keep my emotions in check. I hated looking weak, and complaining about my frustrations only made me feel worse. These worries and inadequacies are my own issues to deal with, there was no need to drag others down into my sorrow, so I changed the subject.

“You’re back earlier than I thought you’d be.” I leaned up from the desk and turned myself to face him. Instinctually, I placed my hand on the blank paper, an attempt to hide my shame.

“Yes, there wasn’t much for me to do, it seemed everyone had it under control and I didn’t see a need to stick around.” He placed a few items down on the table in the study. It was some of the only sounds which broke the monotony of my day. “… did I disturb your work?”

“No, I only just started.” I lied, grinning to add another layer to my coverup.

“Oh, normally you get started much earlier than this …” His observation was accurate, even if it stung a little. He was right after all, I’d been sitting at this desk since we parted ways earlier in the morning … I felt chained to it, obligated to do something worthwhile at this god forsaken wooden nightmare.

“Normally, yes. I just, uh, had some things to get done before this …”

“Well I’m sure you are eager to get started, I’ll leave you to it.” He looked down at me kindly, and I yearned to have more than just his words and kind eyes at the moment, but I knew it wouldn’t be possible to ask that of him.

“Sounds good, I’ve got a lot of ideas and think I can get some good stuff done today.” Another lie.

“I believe you will.” He looked at me and my brain screamed. It battled between the side of reaching for him and letting him go. As busy as he was, he didn’t need to be bothered by my struggles. So, in an effort to keep them under control I pushed my knuckles to the small space between my chin and lips, the nail of my index finger digging into the corner of my mouth for extra sensory support. I smiled weakly at him and watched as he made his way through the threshold, disappearing beyond my line of sight. When the door closed I stood from my chair and walked to the window, my hand extended to capture the rays of the sun which normally brought me comfort, but today only illuminated my skin.

The emotions bubbled up in my chest and, like a sad child who didn’t get what they wanted, I removed my glasses, dropped my head into my hand and cried. Soft, quiet sobs spilled from my mouth while my eyes remained shielded by the darkness of my hand. Something caught my attention and as soon as I allowed my vision to adjust to the source, dark cloth and a flash of red envelope me.

“What …?”

“I knew something wasn’t right.” His voice was so soothing, his arms tight around my body, his chest inviting and the way his hand spread across my back ... it all meshed perfectly together. “For days, you’ve been acting strange … I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“What .. what are you talking about ..?” my voice was strained, telling of my emotions, and still I tried to push through. “I’m fine, I-I just got something in my eye.”

“You know you can be honest with me.”

“I know …”

“So, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“This isn’t something to worry you over.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulled back so he could look at me and I was glad my glasses were still off. I couldn’t bear to see him clearly right now. “Something is clearly weighing on you, how could I not offer my support?

“It’s stupid, and I just need to get over it.”

“If it makes you feel this way, then whatever problem you have isn’t stupid.” He pressed, and his words, combined with the closeness of him, was starting to break my resolve. I didn’t want to put anything else on his shoulders … I didn’t want to appear weak … I didn’t want to be a failure.

“I’m … struggling.” He didn’t let me go or say anything, which made me fill the silence with my own pitiful words. 

“I’ve been trying for days to get something, anything out and every time I do the words don’t flow like they did. I’m worried … did I write all that I’m ever going to write. What if I can’t do it anymore … what if this is all I have …” The tears began to slip down my cheeks, some found a home in the bend of my lips and filled my mouth with the taste of salt. I shook my head and bit my tongue, this is stupid, I’m acting like a child. I tried to push away from him but he only tightened his grip. “God, there are so many more important things to be upset about, and here I am whining about something so petty.”

“When was the last time you took a break? Perhaps, that may help?”

“I’ve done that … I’ve taken such a long break -- I-I don’t want to take a break anymore. Why is this so hard.” I felt the pressure of my brows as they moved closer to one another, the bending of my nose as I scrunch my face out of frustration. “I’m wasting time and people are waiting on me … how long can I ask them to wait … how long do I deserve their patience …”

“Has anyone pushed you to work faster than you can?”

I parted my lips and ran my tongue over the back of my teeth, “No … but I can’t expect them to wait forever. There’s gotta be something wrong with me, right? That’s the only explanation I have at this point. I’m not good at it anymore … I’m worried and stressed and ... just ... so sad.”

His hands slipped around my arms, one resting against my shoulder and the other cupping my face. “I know this feels like an impassable obstacle, but you haven’t lost anything … you just need to give it time.”

“Haven’t I done that?”

“You told me you’ve been in here trying to force yourself everyday, have you really taken time to rest?” I shrugged my shoulders and shifted my eyes away from him.

“You don’t take breaks either …” I mumbled, my words were an effort to get even and show him how the suggestion was nothing but a silly statement that had no meaning.

“Maybe, I should.” I didn’t want to look at him, but I could tell his tone had grown more thoughtful. He let his hands fall to my wrist, the feeling of his glove against my skin was somehow comforting. “Come with me.” He gripped tightly and led me through the door of the study faster than I could protest. We walked down the stairs, confused maids and staff staring at us as we blew by them before leaving through the heavy doors of the winery and onto the dirt path which held endless possibilities of destinations. I protested, but there was no escaping his grip and, soon, all my effort was on keeping up with his pace.

When I thought I couldn’t take another step we stopped, he released my hand and with him no longer keeping me upright, I fell into the grass below me, my arms sprawled outward. I breathed in deeply and relished the feeling of the wind against my face.

“It’s been a long time since I moved that quickly.”

“How do you feel?”

“Let me get back to you on that… ” I laughed and rested my hand against my chest, the beating of my heart pounding there as I tried to breathe with hot lungs.

I looked up at the sky, the vastness of it stealing my vision and removing anything else. My skin was tickled by the blades of grass that brushed against it, and I watched as a small bee flew over my face his swaying movement mesmerizing. When was the last time I was outside like this… it felt like such a long time ago.

I stretched my hand toward the sky above me, the blue color peeking through my spread fingers, my palm cutting off the fuzzy clouds that moved lazily along. His face came into view and I realized I had yet to put my glasses back on.

He bent down to meet me, his back falling into the grass at my side, hair following the pull of gravity and spreading out in the grassy hill. 

“I can’t believe you are laying in the grass.” I chuckled and dropped my hand back onto my chest, turning my head to look at him.

“I’m known to have a few surprises up my sleeve.” He responded, turning his head to look at me, the light from above gracing his face and somehow only making him even more beautiful than he already was. It was so blinding that I had to look away.

“Hah, well, color me impressed.” For the first time in days, I feel a small reprieve from the darkness which had seeped into my skin. Something internal began to tingle, starting from my fingertips and slowly up my arms and as I took in a deep breath the smell of sweet flowers filled my nose. “Thank you, Diluc.”

He reached for the hand which was moving back and forth above the grass at my side, his strong, large grip providing protection and comfort, and for the first time in days, the feeling of warmth.

“Promise to tell me next time you are struggling; don’t hide away alone.”

“I’ll do my best.”

---

I feel much like Kiki did in Kiki’s Delivery Service ... how can I fly again when I feel so ... bleh 

I’ll keep trying, all <3