#i doubt i will be heard but i just had a sudden urge to share a thought

[strangefable]

the words you speak about another person will always, always, speak louder about you than them

[midnightjewel]

Sheets

Stained the sheets?

It’s natural, don’t worry hun! <3

Should I make a part 2?

Characters Included: Kirishima, Bakugo, Denki

Kirishima

Your period decided to pay you a visit yesterday afternoon. It was abrupt but luckily you had been able to sense it before you bled through any clothes. You just patted yourself on the back for catching it before having to do the walk of shame to the washer with one pair of stained jeans.

You knew your second day was going to be a crime scene so you had gone the extra mile with precautions. You made sure to wear an overnight pad along with some thicker underwear that would assure that nothing would “move around” while you slept. You topped it all off with some warm sweatpants. It was January, you could use the extra warmth anyways.

With all the extra precautions taken, you were sure that you would be just fine. You were too confident…

As the sun shined through the sheer curtains of you and your husbands shared bedroom you groaned as you attempted to turn away from the window. But, something caught your attention just before you could go back to sleep. You felt it, and you knew it was on the back of your sweatpants. No doubt it was on the white sheets you had insisted on getting.

As your eyes widened in horror of what had just happened to you, you slowly turn your head to look at your husband who slept peacefully. In 5 years of dating and 2 years of marriage you had never ever had this happen, at least not while in bed together.

So why now?!

As you pondered what to do, you heard your husband’s soft snoring come to a pause and you whipped your head over to see him opening his eyes while stretching.

“Ah” he relaxed after letting go of his stretch “Good morning beautiful” he sleepily smiled at you and you couldn’t find the words to respond. Your mind was too preoccupied.

“Eiji, I think I should wash the sheets” you shamefully tell him “No need I washed them yesterday” he yawns and sits up

“Yeah but I think I should just wash them again” you tell him “Oh? Why?” He looks confused and you look like you want to die on the spot “Uhm well…” you look away “You see the thing is..” you nervously laugh

Then it clicks for him. “Oh my gosh babe!” He smacks himself on the forehead for not catching on sooner “No! Don’t you worry about that! I’ll go run you a warm shower and I’ve got the sheets!” He frantically runs to the master bathroom to run you a relaxing shower

“Honey it’s okay I can-“ you begin but he cuts you off “Nonsense, you are a woman dealing with something so unfortunate. What kind of a husband would I be if I didn’t make things easier for you?” He questioned picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom “Eiji!” You exclaimed “don’t touch my butt! You might get blood on your hands” you warn him and he just laughs “Relax, nothing about you is gross, my love” he kisses your forehead before leaving you to have some privacy

Bakugo

You were always on top of tracking your cycle. Which is how you knew that your period wasn’t supposed to be here for another 6 days! Wrong!

You groaned as your fiancés 4:30 alarm awoke you. “Katsuki turn it off” you grumble as you shuffle around in the bed as the annoying sound blared in the once quiet bedroom “Yeah Yeah shitty woman” you could hear the eye roll. “Have a good day I’ll see you later” you sleepily tell him and he makes his way to the other side of the bed where you slept to kiss your forehead

“See you tonight” he quietly tells you as he makes his way to the bathroom that was connected to your shared bedroom.

You hear the shower turn on and you attempt to go back to sleep but the sudden urge to pee washes over you. “For fucks sake” you groan in annoyance. You knew that your wouldn’t be as tired when you returned to bed now.

As you trudged to the bathroom you felt a gush. It was all too familiar and you panicked. Sprinting to the bathroom you flung the door open, interrupting Katsuki’s shower. You could care less, you opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed whatever you needed before doing your business and going to apply the necessary supplies.

Then you saw it… the crime scene in your pajama shorts.

If it’s this bad in my shorts you ponder to yourself

“Oh fuck” you rush to apply your product and run out of the bathroom, pushing Katsuki out of the way as he attempted to dry off “What the hell?!” He scowled at you as you slam the bathroom door shut “Nothing!” He hears you say from the bedroom

It’s definitely not nothing and he knows that

As you quickly get to the bed you check and much to your dismay, there’s a stain of blood on your side. “Stupid light colored sheets” you grumbled as you quickly get the sheets and bedding into the wash before Katsuki can come out of the bathroom.

As you make your way back to the bedroom you see Katsuki make his way out of the bathroom in nothing but some boxers “Where’s the sheets?” He raises an eyebrow and you freeze

“I just felt like washing them” you lie and he knows it “Mhm well you should’ve thrown those shorts in there” he gruffly responded and you felt a pang of anxiety in your stomach. You had somehow forgot about the stained shorts you were still wearing

“Oh! Uhm-“ you look startled “Come here” he grabs you a pair of his sweatpants and some clean underwear from the closet “let’s go get you in the shower” he intertwines his hand with yours as you both walk to the bathroom

“You should’ve told me” he explains to you “I would’ve taken care of everything”

“I was embarrassed” you shamefully admit and avoid eye contact with the blonde as the situation was awkward enough for you

“Don’t be” he simply states “It’s a natural thing” he says as he puts your towel in the towel warmer and tossing in a steamer into the shower to relax you.

“At least you aren’t pregnant” he laughed and you elbowed him in response while rolling your eyes

Denki

You were just not having a good day. Everything was irritating you and you were having uncomfortable stomach pains. It almost felt like you were coming down with something. But you knew that wasn’t the case since you were fine in all other aspects. So, you just deemed it to be something you ate.

It was a rainy Friday evening and classes were done for the week which relieved you. The hero course was no joke. You were sore and had a massive headache. That’s how you found yourself walking to your boyfriends dorm with a blanket and stuffed animal in hand

You knocked on the door just to make sure you weren’t walking in on anything. But you heard your boyfriends voice on the other side of the door “No! Cover me! Kirishima I’m literally getting targeted!” He yelled and you shook your head as you walked in the dimly lit room. It was dark aside from his TV screen and purple led lights that were lined just below the ceiling

“Kami?” You say as you shut the door behind you and he glances at you before turning his attention back to the tv. He sat in a bean bag on the floor that had a bag of chips and was littered with soda cans and wrappers.

“Yes?” He looks at you “What can I do for my lovely beautiful girlfriend?” The electric blonde gives you a cheeky smile

“Well I-“ you start

“I am not a simp Ser-bro! You talk to Mina like that all the damn time!” He shouts into his mic and you heavily sigh and roll your eyes “Never mind” you scoff and go to lay on his bed

“Hey” he turns around and mutes his mic “What’s wrong honey?” He looks at you, concern lacing his features as you cover yourself up with his blanket and your own “I just need a nap” you say as sleep takes over you

“Rest up” he walks over and kisses your cheek “You deserve it baby” he softly says as he goes back to the game reminding himself to stay moderately calm and quiet so you could relax

About an hour later you were awoken by a loud boom of thunder outside. “Holy shit it’s really coming down out there” Denki says to who you assume was either Kirishima or Sero. It was practically pouring. This was one brutal thunderstorm.

“Denki?” You call out sleepily. “Oh good morning love!” He says not taking his eyes off the tv screen. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom” you grumble as you trudge to the bathroom still half asleep.

As soon as you sit down to do your business you catch a glimpse of it and it wakes you right up. “Oh shit” you hiss as you realize you’ve started your period and it’s all over your gym shorts even on your thighs a little. This was horrible and you weren’t even sure if Denki had any supplies for you

As you frantically check the cabinet under his sink you find your holy grail. A box of pads with a sticky note

For whenever you need them, my love :)

Was written and you couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was. As you cleaned yourself up, you came to a haunting realization. If it was this bad on your shorts… what did his sheets look like?!

You wash your hands and rush out of the bathroom to subtly check the sheets. There was no sense in making a scene if there was nothing there. You held your breath as you checked his sheets and much to your dismay there was noticeable stain on the sheets.

“Uhm Denki, can you mute the mic for a second?” You ask and he happily obliged. “What’s wrong?” He asks you as he turns around “I need to go back to my room to get some new clothes” you grit your teeth in embarrassment “oh okay don’t be long!” He grins as he turns his attention back to his game. He was so oblivious and you were grateful for that at a time like this.

You quickly rush down the hall to get a new pair of shorts and underwear. You go to your bathroom to clean yourself up a bit more and then you quickly make your way back to your boyfriends dorm hoping that he would take your word for it when you said you drooled on his sheets or something when you go to put them in the wash.

“I’m back I-“ you stop dead in your tracks when you see the sheets gone “oh hey honey” he casually says as if nothing has happened. How could he act so chill about that?! You were sure he’d be grossed out!

“Did you take the sheets out?” You swallow thickly with anxiety “Yeah they needed to be cleaned anyways” he shrugged “I hope you don’t mind them not being there if you wanna go lay down” he smiles warmly at you “But I-“ you start to speak in a confused manner

“Oh! I have stuff for you under my sink! And I have some candy in my mini fridge if you’re craving something sweet. Or! You can have some of my chips!” He offers

“Denki I bled on your sheets!” You exclaim “How are you so chill about this?!” You frantically question him. “Oh, I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want to embarrass you” he looks like a lost puppy, not sure if what he did was the right thing.

“Denki I love you so much” you exclaim as you let your emotions go haywire and pull him into a tight embrace

“I love you too” he laughs and hugs you back, taking a moment away from his game. It doesn’t matter if he gets killed in the game, he would risk that just to be with you.

“I also have ibuprofen and a heating pad under the sink. I don’t know if you need those but Mina says they’re a holy grail!”

[kairiscorner]

it may be sudden of me, but i've had an idea i've forgotten to bring to light in the server or to anyone else

miguel 'n reader are engaged, and we catch the man sorrowful and doubtful of *himself* because he thinks he won't do a good job. we let him ramble on and on until we have to shut him up with a kiss ^^

just thought it'd be really sweet, esp if we comfort and reassure him after his rambling

don't do a friends first kinda deal, do reqs that you like that came before mine first if you have a lot! and dw about doing mine at all 💃

(if you do tysm)

YURI MY BOOOOOO omg i'm SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO GET TO YOU 😭😭😭 BUT I LOVE THIS IDEA AKDNDJDLKDKDKD i wanna do this justice. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT AAAAAA

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i just want us to be okay. — miguel o'hara x reader

you didn't need to think twice when he asked you if you'd marry him, you'd've been a fool to have lied to him about how you felt; but you ended up an even bigger, more lovesick fool than ever when you kept repeating to yourself this: i'm getting married to the man of my dreams. you would never forget the way his eyes watered up, how his smile seemed to brighten the whole place up just a little bit in your eyes when you said yes, the saccharine laughter that rang in your ears as he kept asking you in a bewildered, awestruck voice if you really meant to say 'yes' to being his spouse, his spouse.

and up to this day, he can't stop asking you if you mean it; he is that smitten and enamored with you, he can't believe that personified perfection agreed to share their life with him.

however, it's due to that disbelief, that urge he has to think that nothing good in his life will last—that your love is merely temporary, that the universe will one day inevitably rip you away from him like nearly everyone he ever truly cared for in his life—that this affectionate him right now won't be around forever. he's scared that if he makes one wrong move, says one wrong thing, takes one look at the wrong direction—he'll lose you forever. and in a way... he feels like he deserves it, that he deserves to lose you.

he's been holed up in his office, brooding in the dark and thinking to himself in silence as the images and videos on his monitors play by without him looking up to acknowledge what's happening on the screens. he whispers to lyla to play footage of the two of you dancing at your friend's wedding, specifically to the timestamp when you two had your first dance as a couple at the reception hall's dance floor. he heard your voice and laughter, as sonorous and melodic as it was the evening he held you in his arms. it certainly wasn't the first time he held you, but it was the first time he held you with a great feeling in his chest, one that couldn't be labelled nor replicated by any other feeling in the world—it was the first time he held you knowing that his life and yours were going to be one, you two are each other's, like your friend, you two would have your happily ever after one day.

he smiled to himself, much like how he smiled on the video; and he repeated the same words he uttered that night when you chuckled to yourself nervously. "i feel so... weird and nervous having all these eyes on me. is it obvious?" "oh, very." he teased you, mouthing the words out with a wide grin as he watched the footage back with a smile, chuckling as he heard you laugh at his smart ass quips and sarcastic remarks. he missed how sweet your laugh was, how adorable you got when you pretended to be angry at his little comments. "this isn't even our wedding, but, gosh... i can't imagine how it'd be like if it was ours, it's so... so intimidating..." you muttered to him as you held his hand and shoulder tighter, with your feet nearly stumbling and wobbling out of sheer embarrassment.

miguel smiled wider as he watched himself sigh and place his hands underneath your chin, turning your head to make you look at him. "cariño, you're perfect as you are already. even if you're... a nervous mess, i'm falling deeper in love with you when i see you this vulnerable, this honest, really." he said as he leaned in to kiss you, with your eyes gazing up into his mahogany brown ones. the clip was paused in the middle of the kiss scene since a guest had knocked on miguel's office door. "is that during my friend's wedding night?" you asked him with a big smile as miguel's face got all flustered and he closed the monitor, shaking his head. "huh, what friend, what wedding night?" he asked you rapidly as you stifled a laugh. "you're not that slick, miggy." you told him as he rubbed the back of his neck and awkwardly grinned at you. "that's my fatal flaw." he admitted with a chuckle as you held his other hand in your own.

"why were you watching it, miggy? too excited for our own wedding night? can't wait to dance with me?" you asked him with a glimmer in your eyes. miguel cleared his throat and looked away from you and off into the dark distance of his room, his eyes scanning the surroundings, not really looking for anything in particular, but merely wanting to look at anything but you, because... he didn't know how to tell you the words that he wanted to release from his mouth right now. he sighed and decided that, since you were going to be his spouse soon anyway, better yet he be honest and confess to you right now his anxieties.

"well, um, i... you could say i'm excited, yes, but... i'm a little scared." he admitted in a hushed voice as he felt your grip tighten around his hand. "do tell me about it, i won't judge." you told him in a soft tone as miguel smiled a little and shook his head. "oh, where to begin?" he asked himself as he rubbed his forehead and took in a deep breath. miguel went on to describe his worries about being the perfect husband, if he could even fulfil the role of being your lover, your husband; if you'd have even the slightest regrets about marrying him... it's these irrepressible, negative thoughts of his that hinders him from enjoying the time he has with you, because he can barely enjoy time with himself.

"i just... want to be enough for you, you know that..." he said as he held your hand back and squeezed your hand slightly. he sighed again as he thought he just bummed you out and made you see just how weak he really was when it came to the things and people that really mattered to him in his life. "i'm sorry, it's really pathetic, isn't it?" he asked you with a slight chuckle, which was soon broken by you suddenly leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips. it was short; a brief kiss, though one that pulled miguel out of his self-deprecating trance for a minute to listen to you. "i'm going to marry a man who loves me and is self-assured that he loves me; i'm not going to marry this handsome impostor who doesn't even know if he thinks he's enough for me, he is, has, and always will be." you said with a loving smile as you placed both of your hands on either sides of his face.

miguel's eyes soften as he gazes back into your own eyes, filled with love and slight sympathy for him; you have no idea what it's like to be in those big shoes he has to fill, and you won't pretend you have all the answers, that you know everything, but you can guarantee him that as his lover, best friend, and future spouse--you will definitely be there for him, come rain or shine. you pulled him in for another kiss, which felt more passionate and longer than the previous one. as you pulled away, miguel not only appeared more flustered, but he appeared to be more... in awe of you. he nodded and covered his lips, which he kept parting and bringing together over and over in an effort to say something, anything to thank you for your words, your assurance, because he needs that more than you will ever know.

he returned the favor by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for another, more dramatic, kiss. his eyelids fluttered open after he kissed you and he smiled as he gazed at your beautiful, bashful face. "i'm really marrying you, huh? how did i... how did i get so lucky?" he asked you as you smiled and kissed him again, leaving him unanswered, but thoroughly happy and satisfied with you and all the love and comfort you had for him, with plenty more in store when you two were finally to be wedded.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @meeom @ophanimgold @melovetitties

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

You can count on me...you know?

♡♡-Request: Diluc, gn!reader, hurt/comfort; he walks in on you crying, you usually don't show negative emotions like this. He's here to comfort you!♡

☆☆-Warnings: crying, reader is upset, self-doubt, negative talking (by reader), mentions of anxiety, coworkers (he kinda likes you though)

Diluc wouldn't say he knew you well. From the two years you worked at Angel's Share, he never once saw you without a smile on your face. Making small talk with the customers, offering refills even if the patrons were less than civil. He didn't know how you did it, but he admired you for it. Diluc wasn't often expressive, but you could definitely tell when he more or less didn't like someone. Or couldn't be bothered to deal with certain troublesome matters. But you were different, and he had to admit, after much debating with his heart and mind, that he found that attractive. Had even started to feel things for you. Not that he'd ever tell you.

Which is why he was in stunned silence when he heard quiet sobbing come from the break room. Only you and him were scheduled to work today.

He didn't know what to do, but listening to your quiet sniffles had his heart twisting in pain. With as deep of a breath he could take, he knocked lightly on the door. He couldn't very well just barge in; you were vulnerable. The sound of tissues and the scraping of a chair caught his attention. Then, roughly three minutes later, the door cracked open.

Your usual bright eyes and even brighter smile were replaced. Tears stained your cheeks, and your eyes were puffy. "Diluc…I, I'll be out in a moment. I know my break is-"

"Are you okay?" He found himself asking, resisting the sudden urge to capture your tears with his gloved hand. You winced, the hold you had on the door growing more firm as you tried to calm yourself. Not wanting to unload all your issues onto your boss. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine, there's no need to worry." His brows furrowed; obviously, something was wrong. Something was bothering you, and he wanted to help. But he also knew that pressuring for an answer could possibly make it worse.

So, instead of asking, he simply nodded. "If you wish to keep your troubles to yourself, I won't insist. But…" He hesitated, shifting softly on his feet. "I'll be here if you need an ear. You can count on me.."

His eyes widened as soon as he saw fresh tears form in your eyes. Your body shaking slightly as you attempted to contain it. Immediately, he tried to apologize, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean -" the door flung all the way open. Your body rushes through and wraps your arms around his waist. He was frozen again for a second time. Only now, there was a hint of pink on his cheeks. You rested your head on his chest as you continued to sniffle into the fabric. "Thank you…I've been feeling so anxious lately. And have been pretty hard on myself…thinking I'm not good enough. That I haven't accomplished much."

There it was again, the painful twist of his heart. Slowly, his hand came up to pat your head softly. Afraid he wasn't being gentle enough.

"I don't know you well, and perhaps that's partially my fault. But what I do know is you change the lives of everyone you speak to. In positive ways. Including me." He heard your sniffles pause, your head craning up to look at him. "Really?" And it was in that moment, for certain, he would do his best to make you remember this.

He smiled, genuine,"Really."

Navigation

[1ovede1uxe]

04. death xiii, part one┊ ┊⋆ beyond the stars - kakyoin x reader

synopsis - you've been sent to join the joestar crew on their mission to defeat dio by... dio? y/n is an undercover stand user who joins the sdc to report back to dio their findings and notes about their stands, up until a few moral dilemmas get in the way of your original mission.

ch. synopsis - we're gonna crash !!!

The blaring alarm on your phone rudely interrupted the remnants of your peaceful slumber, signaling the unrelenting reality that it was already 7:30 am. Groggy from the previous night's exploits, the temptation to linger in bed for just five more minutes was almost irresistible. Nevertheless, with a reluctant sigh, you sat upright, unlocking your phone for a quick scroll, only to be jolted by the realization that it was already 7:55.

Shit.

Your mind was awake, but your limbs seemed to contrast your mind, as each step to the bathroom feeling like an arduous journey. There was no time to wait for hot water in a hot shower; the cool water hit your skin, inducing goosebumps as you hurriedly scrubbed a cleanser across your face. Emerging from the shower, you felt only halfway refreshed, your tired eyes struggling to open fully. Unexpectedly, a tenor scream pierced the air.

Kakyoin.

Propelling yourself through the connecting door into Kakyoin's room without a second thought, you entered to see that with a scorned look nestled in his bed, lay Kakyoin. He spoke something to himself, but the following holler derailed your train of thought.

Kakyoin's sudden thrashing dispelled any doubts. "Kakyoin?" you called, hoping to wake him. The yell only continued, and you moved closer, leaning over his broad frame, shaking him urgently. "Wake up!" His eyes shot open, breath labored. "(Y-Y/N)?" Upon realizing it was you, it almost felt like his breathing calmed. “Alright you two, let’s wrap things up here. Mr. Joestar and Jotaro are already at the airstrip.” Polnareff, now towering in the doorway, stated.

As you gathered your belongings, Kakyoin began to get ready. "I had a dream... a really terrible one," he began to explain, wiping the sweat that dripped down his forehead. "Hah! What was it about? Tell me everything!" Polnareff urged. However, that was the last you heard after stepping out the door.

Walking out of the hotel, a different holler reached your ears compared to the one before. The scene was gruesome – a dog's head sliced open, and a boy crying over it. You stood there, almost entranced yet equally disgusted. Your instinct to comfort the boy kicked in; no one deserves to suffer heartbreak and loss in such a way. Just as you took a step toward him, Kakyoin tapped your shoulder.

"(Y/N), we have to keep moving," he said, glancing at what had captured your attention. "A dog... I remember seeing a dog's body recently."

"Though it's disgusting, it has nothing to do with us. Let's go," Polnareff announced.

Approaching Jotaro and Joseph, you noticed a commotion and heard something about not being able to get the plane.

"Truth is, this baby is sick with a 39-degree fever. There are no doctors in this village; he'll have to be taken to one that does" the salesman explained. Kakyoin tensed visibly at the mention of a baby, and you shared a side-eye with Polnareff.

After some awkward and honestly poor decision-making, somehow, the five of you ended up with a baby aboard the plane as it ascended into the sky. It sat in your lap in the basket peacefully. You weren't quite sure what to do but just stare and make sure the child didn't wake.

After a bit of cruising through the sky, Polnareff began to dose off, his head nodded against the window. You suddenly felt pressure on your shoulder, and you glanced away from this so called precious child for only a moment, only to understand that Kakyoin had been sleeping peacefully and drifted over to you. Face dusted pink, you look up and see Jotaro turning himself back around. He'd definitely taken note of this.

There was a sudden putrid smell in the air, and you definitely could tell the source. "(Y/N)! You're a woman, can you change the baby?" Your once tickled pink face quickly turned to green, mostly out of disgust for the idea. "Wait...What did you just say to me?"

"Ugh, nevermind, POLNAREFF!" The old man hollered; Polnareff stirred. "Change the baby before you go back to sleep." Kakyoin lifted his head from your shoulder to lean to the wall of the plane. He began to mumble and sweat. Polnareff finally was awake. "Ugh... I think I had a bad dream."

"DIAPER!!!" Mr. Joestar is not a patient man.

Polnareff tried every which way to change that damn baby. Even if it was in your lap you would just do your best to look out the window and breathe through your mouth. Kakyoin began to mumble and stir again, catching the attention of Jotaro. "Hey Kakyoin.." He called out softly. Without warning, Kakyoin began to thrash and yell in his sleep. "Kakyoin! what's wrong?!" Jotaro exclaimed.

It was a commotion. You held onto that basket for dear life. “Oh Shit! This is Bad! He bumped the controls!”

“Are we gonna crash?!”

“Someone hold down Kakyoin!”

Polnareff held down Kakyoin with all his strength, blood suddenly dripping from the restrained man’s wrist. The plane was stabilized, Mr. Joestar had saved the day once again. However, this is Joseph Joestar in a plane. This did not last long.

bonus dio tweets :D

previous chapter // next chapter // masterlist

Thank you so much to everyone for the well wishes for me and my mom, it’s very much appreciated! Things seem to be going a lot better with her. I hope you’re all enjoying the series! I’ll probably edit this later tbh, I just wanted to get out a chapter for y’all. Constructive criticism is always appreciated and the taglist is still open to those interested!

taglist: @kerto-p :)

[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas Interlude: Under My Tree (Din’s POV)

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,114

Rating: M. Language.

Summary: Din doesn’t know exactly how to move forward - but it seems like you’re going to meet him every step of the way. 

Author’s notes:

Figured it was finally time to see things from Din’s point of view ... and there was no better time to go there.

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

Thank you for reading - and for giving me some leeway with being behind on chapters. I’m working on 6 now, so it should be out soon, though this story won’t be finished on Christmas, when I intended. I apologize for that.

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares​ and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2

He woke up before you did the next morning to the sound of the plow going by, Din’s eyes cracking open when it was barely light out. The fire was only embers, but Din was plenty warm, even under the thin blanket you’d draped over the two of you as you laid down. Because she’s still right here.

One of his arms was folded beneath his body, the other draped loosely over you, and he flexed that one, hoping that it wouldn’t jostle you awake. You’d both shifted in your sleep, you rolling over to face him, legs bent and tangled together. When he went to straighten one of his, he heard a quiet huff, his foot making contact with something even warmer than you - and furry. Grogu? 

Raising his head just enough to peek, Din saw the curled up form of the dog at the opposite end of the couch, Grogu’s eyes open and staring at the sudden interruption of his sleep. Sorry, pal. Carefully moving his foot into a more comfortable position, Din looked down at you before settling back against the pillow, fighting the urge to lean down and kiss your cheek or temple. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to - in fact, Din wanted nothing more, but after what you’d talked about the previous night, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. 

He hadn’t meant to tell you everything. 

In fact, Din hadn’t even known what was going to come out of his mouth when he’d started talking as you decorated. But you’d taken it all in stride, though he hadn’t missed the look of anguish in your eyes as he’d confirmed that he was expected to go back to Mandalore and rule, leaving his life in Mistletoe - and you - behind only a few months later. 

He couldn’t blame you for it. He’d let his feelings for you grow too quickly, and that fact had made telling you the truth much more difficult, even though you’d deserved to know. Especially if … if she really feels something for me. He didn’t doubt your affection, and the reaction you’d had to learning his secret had been genuine. He was also certain of you really hadn’t known anything more than what your friends had figured out that morning. And that means she liked me and not … what I am. 

It made everything harder, and as Din settled back down next to you, he closed his eyes, tilting his head forward and listening to the sound of your breathing. 

It was slow and deep, your lips parted slightly, and he risked opening his eyes again to get another glimpse of you. Because this might not happen again. 

It would have been easy to wake you up then, to whisper your name and wait until your eyes opened to say anything else, to offer you breakfast and the opportunity to see how the roads looked. But I don’t want to. It’s too early.

You’d accepted his story without hesitation, seeming to understand that even if he didn’t want it, he had a duty to Boba and to his country, and he wouldn’t abandon it. He wondered why you were taking the situation with him the way you were when you’d explained how upset you’d been with James. That man had been unable to commit to anything past the present, much the same way Din couldn’t give you anything but the promise of a few more months of his presence in Mistletoe. Maybe it’s because we aren’t actually together. Or because I didn’t lead her on. 

Whatever the answer, he was grateful that you’d listened to him, and even more pleased that he’d gotten the chance to wake up next to you at least once - even if all that had happened prior was actual sleep.  

Din wouldn’t be selfish and sacrifice Mandalore’s needs for his own long term, but he knew that a few more hours on his couch with you wouldn’t do any real harm. So he closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath… and willed himself to go back to sleep. 

— 

The next time he woke up, it was because Grogu was whining. He’d left the couch and was standing next to the door, tail moving back and forth. You were up too, shifting in front of him as you yawned. 

“You gotta go outside, buddy?” You pulled yourself out of his arms to stand, and Din watched as you moved across the room, opening the door enough to let the dog through. “Damn, there’s a lot of snow out there.” You stood in front of the glass for a few seconds before you turned back to face him, mouth set into a thin line. “I wonder if they plowed yet.” 

“Heard one go by earlier.” He yawned, too, covering his mouth - but he didn’t sit up. “So they’ve been through at least once.” Din finally stretched as you stopped next to the tree, reaching up to touch a branch instead of returning to the couch. “Come back and lay down, it’s still early.” 

“It’s 9:30, Din.” You almost smiled at that, raising a brow. “That’s not early.” 

“It is for a Sunday.” He patted the open space next to him - still warm from where you’d lain. “Just a couple minutes. Until we need to let Grogu in.” If you said no again, he wouldn’t have pushed, but you didn’t, stepping back toward him and then sinking down onto the cushions, Din lifting the blanket to encourage you back underneath it with him. “See, that’s better.”

“It is. You’re warm.” Sighing, you cuddled up to him, pressing a hand to his chest. “I don’t think I’ve slept that well in … months.” Good. I’m glad to hear that. 

“Me either. It was nice to have you here.” Both of you were silent then, Din looking down and watching as you stared at your hand, one finger dragging slowly back and forth over his chest. “I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m sending you mixed signals.” It came out before he could stop himself, and at your rapid movement - head jerking up so that you could look at him, he winced. “I didn’t mean to lead with that, I just …” 

Cautiously, he settled a hand on your hip while he waited to hear your reply. “What do you mean by mixed signals?” 

“I mean…” He sighed. “You know I have to leave. I don’t want either of us to …” Din wet his lips, closing his eyes. “Get too far ahead of ourselves.” 

“What, you mean like sleeping together on the same couch?�� Eyeing him, you pursed your lips and paused. “Or like making out in your kitchen or mine? Or - “

“Yeah, like all of those things.” He laughed then, hauling you closer, and you let him, the two of you laughing together until you cleared your throat and flattened your hand again. Keep going. “It’s not fair to either of us, and I’m not an asshole, even though I’m sure there are a few people that would call me one.” He had no idea where he was going with what he was saying, so Din was thankful when you jumped in - like you had so many times since he’d met you - and spoke up. 

“So what does this mean, Din? No more mixed signals, like … no more touching? No more kissing? No more hanging out outside of the competition? Both of us ignoring whatever this is between us and pretending like last night didn’t happen and you didn’t tell me anything? Because if that’s the case, then …” You tapped on his chest again. “We probably shouldn’t be under this blanket together.” 

“You just …” Dank farrik, she went right for it. “You just got out of a relationship that you ended because you wanted something more permanent. I don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time with me.”

“Din.” You lifted your hand, running your fingertips along the edge of his jaw. “You just said it. I just got out of a relationship. Maybe … maybe knowing something isn’t meant to be long term is a good change for right now.” You chewed on your lower lip in thought and then spoke again. “Maybe it’s what I need. Or, what we both need. You can’t exactly just casually start seeing someone when you’re back in Mandalore, so…”

“Are you…” He blinked, struggling to catch up. “Are you saying that you want that? That you’d go into more of this with me knowing that it has to be casual?” 

“It’s not what I want, no. But if I’ve only got you for a few more months, I don’t want to deprive myself of any time with you.” You shrugged, the motion of your shoulders moving the blanket with them. “Like you said last night, we’re both adults. If that’s what we want to do, why shouldn’t we?”

It was more than he’d expected to hear from you - more than he could have ever hoped for - and he didn’t know how to answer. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell you yes, that that would be fine with him, that he would spend the remaining few months exploring what he had with you before he had to leave. But instead, he said something much different. 

“We should set some ground rules.” You recoiled slightly, but moments later, nodded, closing your eyes. 

“Can we set those over breakfast? I’m really hungry, and I know there’s pizza left.”

“How about actual breakfast? He sighed. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff - cereal, eggs, pancake mix… I think there might be some bacon in the fridge, too.” Your eyes lit up at the mention of other food, and when you nodded in reply, moving to sit up, Din was relieved - but didn’t let you go. 

“What?”  You stopped moving in his arms, waiting.

“Can I kiss you good morning?” It took you by surprise, but you only bit your lip in response, tilting your head.

“Is that going to be something that’s prohibited by one of these rules, Din?” Your lips curved up into a smirk, and though he’d worried you would deny him, he could tell by the look in your eyes that you had no desire to. “Because if so, sure. Gotta get at least one of those down before you crush my dreams and -” 

That was as far as he let you get, closing the distance between you until he could press his mouth to yours. Your lips were soft and warm, the smile still on them even as he leaned in, urging you onto your back and settling his weight partially on top of you, 

The couch was larger than normal - and it was much more comfortable, too, the two of you sinking into the plush cushions as you slid the hand that had been on his chest around to his back, the pressure between his shoulder blades growing as you urged him to stay close. 

He appreciated the fact that you hadn’t been shy about the fact that neither of you had brushed your teeth before falling asleep the night before and tried to deter him because of your morning breath. And the truth was that Din didn’t mind - if you were allowing it, he was going to take any and every opportunity to kiss you. 

But he didn’t try to deepen it, and when you did, he pulled away, wrinkling his nose and dragging his teeth along your lower lip. “None of that. You said you were hungry.” You groaned, your hand falling away. Even though he didn’t want to, Din pushed with one arm, lifting himself backwards and giving you an out. “I’m going to let Grogu in, if you need the bathroom, you know where it is down here, but if you just want to head to the kitchen, you can do that, too.” 

Blinking up at him, you waited a few seconds to move, gracefully rolling forward and then standing, raising your arms above your head as you stretched. He watched as you reached behind yourself to scratch the center of your back, but without a word, you turned and headed for the steps, diverting into the bathroom before climbing them. 

Once you were out of sight, he scrubbed both hands over his face and groaned quietly. “What the fuck are you doing, Djarin?” He was playing with fire - but a large part of him didn’t care. I came here to live my life while I could, and that’s what this is. 

He stood, too, heading for the door and opening it. Din whistled and then watched as Grogu streaked through the snow, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Skittering to a stop just before he barreled through the door, the dog shook himself, removing the snow that had collected on his fur, and then stepped inside, looking up expectantly at Din. 

“Yeah, I know you’re hungry. C’mon, pal. Let’s get you fed.” It took no time for Din to refill his water and food dishes, but since you were still in the bathroom and he didn’t know what you wanted to eat, he went back into the downstairs area while Grogu ate, opening the gates of the fireplace and kneeling in front of it. 

It felt cozier in the house with the fire going, and so he worked to get one burning, the tiny flames catching quickly thanks to the kindling he kept handy. “Offering me breakfast and building me a fire? What’s it called if you kidnap a king? I think I need to keep you here.”

“I’m not the king yet. And trust me, you wouldn’t be kidnapping anyone.” You laughed, the sound filling the room, and when Din stood and turned to face you, he saw what had taken you so long - you’d washed your face and attempted to fix your hair, though you were still wearing your pajamas. “Your clothes from last night should be dry, do you want them?’

“Nah, not yet.” He heard your stomach rumble before he could say anything else, and you rolled your eyes as you turned toward the steps, Din following close behind you as you passed Grogu and opened the refrigerator. “Want me to make you an -”

“Can I cook for you?” He paused. “I mean, you can tell me what you do and don’t eat, but -”

“Yes.” One hand on the fridge handle, you looked at him over your shoulder. “Yeah, you can. Also, I think my phone died overnight, can I plug it in somewhere while you start?” He pointed to the counter and a spare charging cable, and when you stepped away and toward your bag, he moved into position, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator and cupboards and setting them on the counter. 

He didn’t plan on making anything fancy - just a hearty breakfast since it had been a while since you’d eaten - but as he looked over what he had available, he decided to try and impress you - just a little. You brushed past him to plug the phone in, and then moved over to the other cupboards and pulled out plates and two coffee mugs. Without even asking, you set a pot to brew. 

Neither of you spoke much, though you did make it a point to bend over and scratch Grogu between the ears after the pot had started doing its job, but the silence didn’t bother Din because it was comfortable. 

Like he’d been the first one in your place since your breakup, you were the first woman in his house since he’d moved in, at least in the way that mattered. He’d had a coworker over a few times to work on difficult jobs after hours, and the man had been dropped off and picked up by his girlfriend since they shared a vehicle - but in Din’s mind, that didn’t count. 

It had been a lonely 8 months, but it had given him a lot of time to consider everything that he needed to expect from the rest of his life, and Din wouldn’t have traded the time for anything. Well, except maybe more of this sooner. 

Covering the sizzling pan and turning the heat down, Din turned away from the stove to find you sitting at the table and watching him, your chin resting on one hand. “What? What’s that look for?” 

“I’m just trying to remember the last time someone cooked me breakfast outside of a restaurant.” Tapping your finger against your lips, you grinned. “It’s been a while.”

“James wasn’t a breakfast guy?” He crossed his arms, leaning back against the sink. “Or just not a cook?” 

“He could cook, and he was actually pretty decent with the grill, but breakfast …” You hummed, closing your eyes. “I love breakfast, but we’d usually just grab something quick - cereal or eggs or toast. It wasn’t an actual meal unless we were out somewhere.” Oh, that asshole. 

“Well, I don’t know how much we’ll be having breakfast together, but I have no problem making it for you.” Your eyes lit up, grin widening. “And it doesn’t even have to be morning, either.” 

“Oh, perfect. Breakfast for dinner.” The coffee pot finished then and you stood, moving back toward it. “Coffee, Din?” He told you yes and then watched out of the corner of his eye as you rummaged through the cabinets for sugar, setting it down before you went back to the fridge and grabbed one of the creamer containers. “I know what you ordered the other day, but I’m not even going to try to -”

“Just a little of the flavor. No sugar.” He nodded. “It’ll be fine.” 

You poured the coffee as he started plating the food, Grogu standing by his feet and whining. “You already had your breakfast, little guy. How are you still hungry?” 

“I told you, he’s always hungry. You’d never know it looking at him, though, he’s still pretty small.” Nudging the dog away with one foot, Din carried the plates to the table and sat down just as you did, sliding one mug of across and toward him. “How’s it look?”

“Fucking amazing, Din. Smells great, too.” 

It felt oddly domestic to him - sitting and eating with you in his kitchen after cooking a meal, and he hoped that you could do it more often, even if it wasn’t in the morning. “Well there’s plenty left, so eat as much as you want.” He watched you take your first bite, your eyes closing as you nearly moaned at the taste, eyes rolling back into your head. “Good?” 

He barely managed the single word, his grip on his own fork tightening at the sound you’d just made. Damn, it’s going to be … “It’s great Din, this tastes like you spent hours cooking it.” He finally took a bite, too, trying to distract himself - but you kept talking. “Where’d you learn how to cook?” 

“It was actually one of the things we did at school. Everyone had to learn. And I just kept going after I finished - got better over time. I cook a lot for Fennec, even though she could eat way better than my cooking, because she lives in the palace.”

“Boba’s palace.” You swallowed, sipping your coffee. “And soon to be yours. I bet that kitchen’s amazing. I hope you have time to cook after you’re k… Mand’alor.” He appreciated the fact that you corrected yourself. The terms were somewhat interchangeable, but it was a sign of respect to use the Mandalorian language, especially as an outsider. “Are you going to be able to take Grogu back with you?”

“Yes. He’s family.” Din took a long swig of coffee. “Boba and Fennec can’t wait to meet him.” He glanced down, eyeing the dog as he laid next to the table on his side, legs stretched out. “Not very regal, but…” You snorted, looking down too. 

“He’ll learn. Get him a friend or something to teach him the ropes.”

“He’s one of a kind.” Din sighed. “And, to be honest, I don’t think I could handle two of him right now, so once I’m … busier, it’ll be even less possible.” 

“You’d figure it out.” Chewing, you narrowed your eyes at him. “So, Din… what are these ground rules you wanted to establish?” He nearly choked on what he had in his mouth, the man coughing as he leaned forward, bringing a closed fist up to stifle the sound. “Or just go ahead and choke on that instead of - “ 

“Gimmie a second.” He coughed again, shaking his head. “You really just jump right in, don’t you.” 

“I do. I want to know what to expect from situations, and … I really want to know what to expect from this one.” You got up then, walking over and pulling out a carton of juice and then another glass. “Want one?” 

“Sure.” That one you poured for him with no pause, replacing the carton and then carrying both glasses to the table. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah. Like I was saying, Din… I like knowing where things stand. And the sooner I know what you���re… what you want, the sooner I can figure out if it’s something I’m capable of giving you.” He almost couldn’t believe it - that you were being so straightforward with him, telling him what you needed to hear from him. 

“Well… first of all.” He cleared his throat, coughing again. “First of all, it goes without saying that who I am and what I am has to stay secret. I’m not worried you’ll say anything, but I just wanted to be clear.” 

“Of course.” You took another bite, brows knit together thoughtfully. “But I’m not sure who would actually believe me even if I did say anything, so…” You shrugged. “It’s kind of an unbelievable story, you know? Heir to the throne of Mandalore working as an IT guy for some tiny little company here in Mistletoe? It kind of sounds like one of those dumb movies we started to watch last night.” 

He didn’t disagree. “Thank you.” Thinking for a few seconds, Din continued. “We should probably keep any sort of PDA to a minimum, too. I know I kriffed it up kissing you in that hallway, and then again last night, but …”

“Those were accidents. You got carried away.” Finishing your meal, you pushed your plate forward. “But that’s fine with me, too. I feel like most of the time we’ll be out somewhere in public, it would be at work, or -”

“No, I want to hang out with you.” He reached across the table, hand flat atop it. “That isn’t … we can do that, but once I do take the throne, if people start digging, they’ll find out I lived here for a while, and it could … it could come back on you if they find anything. And I won’t be here to deflect it.” 

“Oh.” You glanced down, and Din hated to hear the hurt in your voice, but he needed to be honest. “That makes sense.” 

“People knowing we’re friends is one thing, and that’s fine especially because we’re coworkers, but …” This is the shitty part. “In public, that’s all we can be.” 

“People here will think something different. It’s a small town, and I’m sure some people are already talking about the fact that we’re partners. So it’s … that’s probably a good idea.” You met his eyes again. “What else?” 

“If… if things were to get to…” He glanced up. This isn’t hard, you kriffing idiot. “If we ever sleep together for real, we need to use protection. Accidents happen, and that wouldn’t… I would hate myself if -” 

“Got it. Sex is on the table, but we’ve gotta be safe about it.” He could tell that you were upset - not at his requirement, but at the fact that such a serious conversation between the two of you was even necessary in the first place. I’m not happy about it either, if it makes you feel any better. “Can’t have any little Dins running around.” 

“No, that’s another thing. Like I said, on Mandalore, since the throne isn’t passed down to a blood heir every time, I don’t need to have kids. And to be honest with you, I …” He frowned. “There are perks. A lot of them, but I know how I feel about this whole thing, and I don’t want … I don’t want to … If I had a kid, they’d be expected to take my place, especially if it happened soon.”

“So instead you’ll just pick someone else - like Boba did.” He nodded. “So how do you make sure that the person you pick is going to want it?” Good question. 

“Boba asked me because he knows I don’t want it, and he trusts me to act in the best interests of the country. I’ll… I’ll have plenty of time to find someone to replace me that’s the same. Maybe someone that isn’t as hesitant, but …” Din shrugged. “That’s what advisors are for.” You actually smiled at that, finishing your juice. 

“Ok, so what else is there? You’ve covered PDA and safe sex and discretion. But after next week, Din, we won’t have any reason to see each other outside of work, and if we start spending the night at each other’s houses when there’s not a foot of snow outside, it… it’ll be a little hard to hide.” 

“Yeah, it will.” He pushed the remnants of food around on his plate, frowning at it. “But we can figure it out, and -”

“So we’d be friends with benefits.” You stood, grabbing your plate and heading to the stove, continuing to talk as you got a second serving. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with the term, but here, it means people that casually date and do things together - including sleeping together - but that’s all it is. It’s not meant to be long term, but it’s a little more serious than just hooking up.”

You didn’t come back to the table, instead standing next to the stove and eating - plate in one hand, fork in the other. “Yeah, I … I haven’t heard that before, but … that’s…” It’s bullshit is what it is. It sounded almost ridiculous coming out of his mouth, and he knew it - meaning that you knew it, too, and yet you weren’t turning him down. You were agreeing, continuing to eat what he’d made for you and having a conversation that was no different than if you were discussing the weather. “Does this make things weird between us? Making rules for -”

“No. It’s a little formal, but it’s better to get this all out in the open now.” You rinsed your plate off. “I can’t say that I’ve ever set up an arrangement like this before, but it’s not everyday that the future ruler of a foreign country asks for some discretion because he wants to kiss me.” You sat back down across from him, laying both hands on the table. “I’ll be honest and say that this kind of sucks, Din, because like I said, I like you, and we don’t have a chance to see if this could be something more, but it is what it is.

“You can say no.” He reached out again, settling a hand over both of yours. “Call me a terrible person for even suggesting any of this, and I wouldn’t blame you.” I don’t want you to, but… “But I want to be honest with you. I want to see what this is, and see if … see if maybe it would be possible for it to turn into more later, and -”

“No, Din.” Shaking your head sadly, you squeezed your eyes shut. “You’ll be thousands of miles away, and while you’re learning how to lead, you won’t have time for distractions. Let’s just … let’s just do this now, and not … not worry about anything else. Don’t get our hopes up. It’s easier with an expiration date.” It wasn’t - and he thought you knew, it, too, but at the look on your face, he couldn’t do anything but agree - though he did it in his own way. 

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We might not like each other much by the time we’re done with this competition, especially if we don’t win.” It took you a second but you laughed at his words, pulling your hands from beneath his and reaching for your coffee mug. 

“You never know.” Taking a sip, you curled your upper lip and stared at him over the rim of the mug. “Din?” He hummed, frowning. “This is going to hurt when it has to end, you know that, right?” Again with the honesty.

“I do.” Rubbing at his forehead, he nodded. “But I think it would be worse if we just tried to ignore all of this.” 

“Yeah.” Averting your eyes, you stared into your cup. “It would.” Grogu sighed from the floor, Din’s attention dropping to him - and giving himself a chance to think. It was almost cruel that you’d agreed to the arrangement with him, especially with so little time left. 

He wished that he’d started speaking to you sooner after he’d found out that you were single. But I didn’t want to seem like I was taking advantage of an opportunity. He wished that he’d been able to keep his feelings and emotions hidden - something that he’d been so good at after a lifetime of growing up in Mandalore. But months in Mistletoe had changed him even though he’d kept to himself, and part of Din wondered if he’d be able to go back to his old self when it was necessary. But is it necessary? 

Din didn’t know for sure, and as he looked back at you, catching you staring out the window over the sink, he realized that in that moment, it didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because I’m not there right now. I’m here… with her. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Din pushed to his feet, picking up his plate and the juice glass, turning toward the sink. “I’m going to need to clear the driveway before you leave. With both cars parked there, that cuts down on what needs to be shoveled, but it’s still going to take me some time.” 

“I can help if you want.” You stood too, carrying the remainder of the dishes to the sink and setting them down, though you didn’t move from his side. “If you have two shovels, it’ll take even less time.” 

“I don’t.” Turning to face you, he crossed one arm over his chest, gripping his shoulder. “But you could clean the cars off, or play with Grogu.” Your eyes lit up at the second suggestion, Grogu’s dog tags jungling as he sat up at the mention of his name. “He’s pretty good about staying in the yard.” 

“That sounds like fun. I’ll keep these pants on though, that way I can change into my jeans before I go home.” Whatever you want to do. “I wish I had my hat. The hood won’t stay up on my jacket.” 

“I have a couple. You can wear one of them as long as you don’t mind them not being just washed.” You said you didn’t, and so he headed up and into his bedroom a few minutes later, leaving you standing by the sink and rinsing dishes. 

He used the bathroom and changed his pants quickly, pulling on a pair of thick socks and grabbing his spare beanie before heading back out into the hallway and then downstairs, tossing the fabric onto the table. “Dishes are rinsed and loaded, but I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with the pan you used. Some people are weird about -”

“Like I said, the house was furnished. They’re not mine.” Holding up a hand in understanding, you moved to load them into the dishwasher, closing it while he leaned against the table and watched you. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I don’t like leaving a mess in the kitchen.” Wiping your hands on a towel, you spun to face him. “Besides, you cooked, so it’s the least I could do.” He liked the way you had an answer almost immediately no matter what he said, and told you as much. “I say what I mean, Din. You’ll have to get used to it.” 

“I definitely could.” You stepped over to the table, picking up the hat - dark gray with a faintly metallic sheen - and pulled it onto your head, tugging it into place. His eyes widened as he watched you, the man’s attention locked on your form as you adjusted the hat. It looks better on her than it does on me. 

“Well?” You held up a hand, cocking your head to one side. “How’s it look?”

“Good. I brought that one from home. I’ve had it for years, but I don’t wear it much here.” He saw the happiness in your eyes as he spoke, your smile growing with each word. “Maybe I should, though.” 

“Want to switch?” Not a chance. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.” Taking a breath, you pointed at the front door. “Should we get out there? The sooner we start, the sooner I can head home and see how bad my own driveway looks. 

“Do you need help clearing it? I can always bring over my -”

“No. The neighbor has a plow on the front of his truck. He usually does it for me before he goes out and does his contracted work, but I won’t know until I get there.” You were both putting on your boots and coats as you talked, you using one hand on the hallway wall for balance. “And if not, I’ll just park in the street and clear enough space to get my car into the garage until he can get to it later.” 

“The offer stands.” He zipped up his coat, pulling his hat into place. “Grogu doesn’t need a leash, Just say “k’olar”, and he’ll listen.” He opened the door leading to the garage and Grogu bolted past the two of you and into it, yipping happily. “I’ll keep an eye on him, too.” 

You thanked him, and as Din pressed the button to open the garage door, you both blinked slowly in the brightening light, the dog sitting on his haunches and waiting. “You should pull your truck forward. That’ll give you a place to start.” It was a good idea, and Din retreated into the house, grabbing his keys. 

When he went back into the garage, he saw that you’d picked up a broom and were clearing his windshield off, careful not to step on and compact the snow in the driveway. He let you continue, stepping forward to keep an eye on Grogu - the dog zooming back and forth across the yard, and was surprised to hear his name a few seconds later. 

“All done.” You had snow on the front of your jacket and pants - but a huge smile on your face. “I’ll go out there with him.” Setting the broom back in place against the wall, you moved around the front of the truck and carefully stepped toward the yard, hopping over undisturbed snow. 

He watched you for a few seconds - smiling as you bent down and called for Grogu while you picked up a handful of snow and tossed it into the air. I’m glad they get along. Looking away, he unlocked the door of his truck and climbed in, starting the engine and letting it idle for a few seconds before pulling into the garage. “Fuck.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. “Fuck, this is a dumb plan.” 

It wasn’t dumb because it was a bad plan, it was dumb because he knew how foolish it was to let yourselves have a few months of happiness before separating. But we agreed to it. We both …we both want something instead of nothing. And when he got out of the truck’s cab and tossed the keys onto one of the shelves in the garage, trading them for the shovel and stepping to the edge of the driveway, he returned his gaze to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

You and Grogu were still playing, the dog running in circles around your legs as you gently kicked snow at him, his jaws snapping as he tried to catch the powder. He could have watched you all morning, but instead tore his gaze away and started to shovel, the man making quick work of the side he’d been parked on before beginning behind your car. 

He checked in on you occasionally, making sure that you and Grogu were alright, but when he was almost done clearing the apron, he felt an impact against his left shoulder - and then, seconds later another. What the… 

When he looked up, you were standing in the center of his yard with a snowball in each hand, Grogu rolling around on the ground next to you. “Did you just…” He trailed off as you reared back and lobbed another snowball at him, the man able to duck out of the way of that one. “You did.”

“I did.” Laughing, you bent down and quickly formed more snowballs. “This is perfect packing snow, Din.” He brushed the snow from his coat and turned his head to look at the remaining section of the driveway - likely only a few more passes of the shovel - and then let it drop to the ground instead, striding toward you and bending to scoop up some snow of his own. 

“You asked for this.” Grinning, he stood and threw a snowball in your direction, Grogu quickly getting to his feet and barking happily. “Remember that.” But you didn’t reply, sending another snowball over - and that was all it took. 

The two of you traded shots for the next ten minutes, snow flying through the air and both of you laughing as you danced through the drifts, Grogu underfoot as he ran back and forth between you. He didn’t concentrate as hard as he would have if he were actually aiming with something that wasn’t snow, but he still hit you quite a few times despite your attempts to duck and avoid the snowballs. 

The hat you were wearing was covered in snow, clumps of it sticking to the cloth parts of your jacket and pants, and Din assumed that his outfit looked the same - but he didn’t care. I’m having fun. I’m … this is … He groaned as you hit him square in the back with a large snowball, Din shouting out your name as he spun back to face you, three leaving his hands in rapid succession. “Oh, now you’re gonna get it.” 

He advanced toward you, Grogu leaping and trying to bite the snow he still held, but before he reached you, Din felt his boot sole catch on a slick spot, his arms flailing as he fell onto the ground. Ow. You took advantage, surging forward and scooping up more snow - but instead of forming it, you moved to stand next to him and then dropped it on his head, Din shutting his eyes at the last possible second as his skin was sprinkled with the cold powder. “Am I?” You laughed again, moving to step back - but he was too quick for you, a hand shooting out to take yours into his, the man tugging once and pulling you down so that you fell across his lap, both of you laughing as his arms went around you, urging you closer to his chest. “Alright, Din, you win.” 

He held you close, watching as you turned your head up to look at him. This wasn’t a bad idea.  This is … the best idea. 

Pulling one gloved hand back, Din used a finger to wipe snow from your cheek, his eyes locked on the movement and the way your lips parted at the touch. “Do I?” A tiny nod was all you managed before Grogu jumped into the mix, placing his paws on Din’s leg and leaning in, licking the side of your face. “Grogu, daab. Get down!” 

“No, it’s fine.” You laughed again, letting go of Din and wrapping your arms around the dog. ‘He just wants to play.” 

“We should go back in. I’m soaked, and you have to be, too.” He hated to get up, but didn’t want either of you to get sick from the cold. “Come on. You can change and I’ll throw our wet clothes into the dryer for a couple minutes before you leave.” 

He didn’t want you to go but knew that he couldn’t keep you all day. “Sounds good.” You pushed to your feet and brushed your pants off, staring down at him. “My hands are kind of cold anyway.” 

Within a few minutes, the two of you were back inside the house, your outer layers removed. He brought your jeans and shirt from the previous night up from the dryer and handed them to you. “Be right back.” You nodded as he headed up the stairs, Din’s hand on the railing the entire way. 

He changed quickly, just putting on a different pair of sweatpants and a dry hoodie before pulling on a new pair of socks. What a great morning. What a great … weekend. He was still smiling as he went back downstairs - but it disappeared when he saw you standing in the kitchen, phone in hand and a horrified look on your face. 

“What’s wrong?” You didn’t respond right away, instead lifting one hand to cover your mouth, head whipping back and forth. Din said your name, reaching you in only a few steps. “What happened?” 

“Look.” It was only one word - and whispered through your fingers, but Din’s eyes moved to the screen of your phone, his heart sinking at what he saw on it. 

It was a picture of the two of you from the night before - his arm around you as he kissed you. Oh, that’s not …  But as he continued to look at the screen, the pit in his stomach grew when he saw that not only was there one picture of the two of you there - the one with your snowmen in the background was posted, too… and both your names were listed beneath it. Ibic cuyir dush. This is really bad.

— 

Ko’lar: come here:

Daab: down

Ibic cuyir dush: this is bad

Tag list reblog coming soon!

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

The Concierge Attends A Meeting (Part 12)

The Continental is housed within an old, old building. One brought to the modern age with all the elegance of an old movie star ageing gracefully. 

But one thing that one cannot do with an old building - make the elevator shafts bigger. At least, not without difficulty. And you never thought you’d have to.

“Shall I take His Highness and Captain Undyne first?” You feel your brows furrow as the massive King of Monsters stuffs himself into the comparatively small elevator along with his bodyguard. You’re not amused. Not in the slightest, not--

No you’re definitely suppressing a smile. 

Fairly successfully, given that both monsters don’t grumble more than is expected from stuffing both of themselves into the lift, or from Papyrus wanting to shove himself in there too.

“NO, WE ARE FINE. COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FINE.” Oh dear, you should not enjoy seeing poor Papyrus squished between the enormous King Asgore and the broad-shouldered Undyne. Although clearly Sans and Frisk don’t share the same sentiment.

“good thing you’re skinny, boss, otherwise you’d never fit,” Sans snickers from where he stands behind you, not even remotely willing to get into the same elevator. 

I think the lift is at its weight limit. Frisk tugs at your pants and signs, their eyes dancing with glee. 

Sad to say, that is indeed the case. You may have miscalculated how heavy the King and his Captain were. Though Papyrus weighed little, considering he is all bones.

You nod down at the young-but-old human ambassador. “I am afraid that is the case,” you look back up at the three colossal monsters with a mildly concerned expression. “The Manager will receive you at the rooftop terrace, Your Highness.”

“M-much obliged,” the King says with a sheepish smile, rounding his shoulders to make them...only marginally smaller, his head tucked between them so his horns don’t scratch the walls. 

You have to squeeze an arm in to press the right buttons, but press them you do and up goes the elevator after both doors close. 

“didja get a picture?”

A blink. A moment. Then you look down at Frisk who smiles up at you innocently. Sure did.

The smile that quirks up your still lips is not one that you can suppress. “Leverage, Mx Frisk?”

You got it.

“send it to me, that’s hella good blackmail material.”

The elevator takes a while to come back down - perhaps the three monsters had a hard time extricating themselves - but eventually you usher both of them in there. It was your intention to send them up and on their way, leaving you to go back to your post at your counter, but Sans stops you.

“not comin’ with, sweetheart?” he asks, hands in his pockets. Your hand remains on the elevator doors, stopping them from closing. 

“I am not required for your meeting, Mister Sans,” you say with a slight tilt of your head. 

Frisk seems to catch onto Sans’ meaning and makes a small noise, the first that you’ve heard from the young-but-not child. Not that I’m doubting the Manager’s authority in her own hotel, but she might feel better having someone by her side?

You take a moment to stifle the sudden urge to snort. The Manager is not likely to ‘feel better’ having you by her side. But...

“just come up with us. if ya don’t get an order to stay, you can go,” Sans shrugs and leans against the wall, nodding to the elevator door. “you’re holding the lift up, by the way.”

Why that little--

“Very well.” You incline your head to hide the side-eye you give the smug skeleton. The slight heel of your shoes click on the marble floor, the metal sound of the cage door sliding closed, and then the comparatively softer sound of the elevator closing. 

As you stand at the buttons, with Frisk and Sans standing some space apart, you come to the realisation that those three monsters should not have been able to squeeze in here as they did. It is a roomy elevator - of course it is, it’s a luxury hotel, but goodness.

Ding goes the elevator bell. There is a small ruckus as you help to slide the cage door open, drawing the attention of the four others scattered across the tastefully decorated rooftop terrace. 

All around, the glimmering lights of a never-sleeping city twinkle like stars in the dark, the rooftop of the hotel high enough that only the light of the fire and the scattered lamps provide illumination. In the dark of night, the city seems like a different place. As if the hotel stands apart from the rest of reality. Separate. Isolated. A world hidden within a world.

“Mx Frisk, Mister Sans,” the Manager lifts a cup of tea at them from where she lounges on the loveseat next to the fireplace. Then she looks at you, and her smile stretches just a little bit more. “My Heart.” It is a verbal affection. A silent order. 

All the monsters, plus Frisk, stare at you then. 

Sans looks at you with a quizzical expression. ‘My Heart?’ he mouths at you. 

To which you do not respond. Your back is straight, your shoulders level, your posture perfect and proper as you stride to the Manager’s side to stand behind her sofa, hands folded over your belly. 

Ignoring Sans look, all of their looks, you take up the teapot and offer it to the Manager silently. She turns her head up at you, smiles that secret smile that you take to mean that all is well, and nods. “Would any of you care for a drink as well?” The question is directed to the rest.

For a brief moment, there is no noise but for the sound of you bustling around and bringing drinks and offering serviettes. Though soon enough, even the King tires of the propriety of it all.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet us,” he speaks regally as expected of one of his station. “I deeply appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule.”

The Manager crosses her legs, teacup gracefully held in the fingers of one hand. “But of course,” she purrs, not even batting an eyelash at the overtures. “It would be remiss of me not to extend a welcome to those who are interested in becoming a member of the Continental.” Then she gestures with her teacup to all of King Asgore. “Even more so to those who so newly call our city home.”

Undyne stiffens where she stands behind King Asgore, her fins fluffing like a cat’s hackles. And yet she stays silent, and so do you, despite how your hands drop to your sides in readiness.

“Not just the Continental, Miss, but the--”

“High Table,” the Manager interjects before King Asgore could complete his sentence, completely unrepentant at the slight. It seems the King takes it in his stride, despite that. “I’m aware.”

He inclines his great, horned head. “Yes, the High Table. The ultimate authority of the criminal underworld.” Thick fingers lace together between his thighs, the expensive fabric of his suit straining at his biceps. “And by extension, the Surface. Feared and respected by all, to sit at the Table is to rule the world.”

A glint of understanding tints the Manager’s eyes. Your chin tips down slightly in disappointment. 

“Ah, power,” she purrs, finishing the last dregs of her tea. The porcelain cup hits its saucer with a gentle clink, freeing her hands. “Well, though the Continental shares ties to the High Table, I do not have a seat. No manager does.” Her palm faces upright in a gesture of ‘what can you do?’. “As management, I agree to the rules of the High Table. But the High Table agrees to our rules in turn. A...symbiotic relationship, one can say.”

Uncrossing and crossing her legs again, the Manager tilts her head to the side, eyeing the King carefully. “You want protection for you and yours. This world is too much like the one you know so well, and you know the one place you will find such strength is in the ruling council.” 

From the way the King exhales slowly, you know the Manager hit her mark. The bovine monster seems to consider her words, the way he stares briefly into space indicating that he is thinking. His entourage, too, remains quiet. 

Frisk, bless that young-old thing, pads forward to sit at a couch adjacent to both rulers. In the middle. An ambassador, truly.

You’re saying there’s no real way to get a seat at the High Table.

The Manager follows their hands carefully. “I’m saying that no one earns a seat at the High Table. Not so easily, not without blood. Or stepping on toes. Or making powerful, powerful enemies. You gain little from trying to ease your way into that world using my reputation.” Smiling coyly, the Manager leans her cheek on a fist, “They say that to attract a spirit is to call their name. To attract a devil is to stir their interest.”

A long finger dances up to painted lips, pressing against them in a universal gesture of silence. “Be careful what you wake, gentlemonsters. What stirs will take, and take, and take, until you have naught left to give. And when you have nothing, they will take you.”

Silence reigns for a heartbeat. Then two. 

Your hands ache.

“I thank you for your counsel,” the King says at last, his observant, uncomfortably warm eyes lock with the Manager’s. 

The Manager inclines her head. “That’s not to say I cannot grant you membership to the Continental,” she says, gesturing to them with the same hand she had leaned on. “You might find it helps you, or hinders you. Either way, I offer a gateway into the world you wish to enter. Whether you find what you seek, or we sweep up the dusted remains of your Family, is still unknown.” 

A wink, then. “Welcome to our beautiful city, gentlemonsters.”

With her piece said, the woman reaches over to pour herself some tea; you do not move to help, your eyes still locked on the monsters while the Manager’s attention is divided. Or rather, just Sans.

Sans who looks like he wants to grind his teeth so badly. Sans who looks up at you with a question in his eyes. Sans who looks disappointed by the shake of your head. 

As much as the Continental had an understanding with the High Table, it still sits under the Table. Serving the Table. If the Table thought that the Manager was making a move against them, plotting to take more power...

No, that would not end well. 

Best to stay neutral. 

You had learned the hard way what it was like to stand against an unstoppable force.

[absylphe]

eavesdrop (feel free to include dirk or dont im not a cop)

I Feel Like I Take More Liberties Than I Should And Make More Assumptions Than I Should And I Feel Like I Should Be Reprimanded For It Rather Than Rewarded With Friendship

Each And Every Time That Tiny Kernel Of Insight I Intend To Provide Ends Up Rolling Up Dense Inches Of Conjecture And Observation Until The Tiny Snowball I Had Meant To Playfully Pelt A New Friend With In The Park With Becomes The Size Of An Oversized Snow Man's Disembodied Ass Crushing Him Under The Weight Of My Invasive Dissertations

(Pardon The Sudden Crass Language But I Think Dave Would Get A Kick Out Of That Metaphor For The Record)

And There I Go Making Assumptions Again Because I Have A Single Mode And It Is Overthinking Everything Until My Sponge Dries Out Or My Pusher Stops Beating

Whichever Happens First

Doubt Spiral Aside I Am Relieved That He Is Beginning To Relax And Feel A Bit More Comfortable

I Always Worry That I Am Perhaps Too Familiar

And That If I Am Too Familiar It Is For The Wrong Reasons

"A Fondness For Striders" Feels Like Such A Dismissive Over Generalization But The Shared Characteristics Of Our Collective Upbringings Always Make Striders Feel More Real To Me Initially Than Other Humans Do Somehow And I Think That Alone Is Enough To Put Me At Ease Early On When I Am Normally More On Guard

Seeing The Fierce Devotion He Has For His Brother Makes Me Wonder If Porrim And I Could Have Been Close If Time Had Permitted It

I Wonder If I Had Been Made Human If Anyone Could Have Mustered Such A Selfless Love For Me And I Find Myself Dissatisfied With The Conclusion

--------

I Don't Know

Of Course I Have Heard All Of The Things He Has Said About Himself And All Of The Things That Dave Has Mentioned But It All Seems Rather Excessive

And I Know That We Have A Lot In Common And I Think It Would Be Condescending To Assume That He Has Not Noticed

I Anticipated It Even Before We Really Spoke Just Given How Dave Talked About Him

The Thought I Keep Going Over In My Mind Is That It Is Not Really The Monstrosity Part Of His Possible Tyrannical Future That Terrifies Him

But The Maintained Integrity Of His Current Level Of Cognizance That Rings Throughout That Future

That Is To Say

It Is Not The Idea So Much That He Could Be Corruptible So Much As It Is That He Already Is Or He Already Believes That He Is

It Is Not The Dread That In The Future He Will Become A Monster So Much As The Dread That In The Future He Will Still Be Himself

Which In The Context Of This Hypothetical Is The Same Thing

(And As Always I Have To Make It About Myself)

Because Of Course I Resonate With That

I Am A Literal Physical Biological Parasite

I Have No Choice In That Matter Anymore And I Have Not For Nearly Half Of My Life Now

The More I Give In To It The More Those Urges And Thoughts And Mannerisms Consume Me

The More I Feel I Am Correct And That My Guidance Is Objectively For The Best

But How Much Of That Is A Mutation That Influences Me Toward Behavior That Prioritizes Resource Hoarding And How Much Of That Is Just Me

The Real Me That Sleeps Under Pangs Of Hunger And Purposeful Deprivation Too Weak To Exert Itself

Whenever He Alludes To The Perceived Inevitability Of That Future For Himself I Just Can Not Help But Think Of The Times I Have Overindulged And Become A Creature I Still Cannot Bear To See Glimpses Of In My Own Reflection

I Think He Must Think Me Terribly Naive Or A Terrible Busybody To Involve Myself So Much In His Business But My Heart Aches To Think How Much His Mind Must Race Given How Much He Observes And How Little He Speaks

The Echo Chamber Of One's Own Mind Is An Inhumane Place To Flog Oneself

Over Perceived Flaws And Actions Considered But Not Taken No Less

As Hypocritical As It Is To Say For Someone Like Me

Selfish Though It May Be I Hope He Will Be Free To Travel One Day

I Would Like To See The Kind Of Pottery He Would Make

[sourinksoda]

Bitter water [ Talen and Faolan’s youth ]

Two boys meet by the river on opposite beds, watching the other with intrigue and the urge to connect.

One early afternoon many, many moons ago, a young Talen was partaking in his daily routine of dozing off on the dusty banks of the river, when a noise distracts him enough to only just take notice of a wispy white dog? Or a boy, maybe? On the opposite bank.

Patting down the dust from his worn clothes, he curiously plucks a stone from the shallows, clumsily skimming the rock over their way. As it sharply clacks against the lone tree, something the size of a kid his age flinches behind it. Talen in glee lets out a call for them to skim it back.

A boy slowly pokes his head out from behind the tree, uncurling from its safety as he nervously fishes around the knoll for and picks up the small smooth piece of chipped slate. He steps over great roots making his way to the shore, pulling the knees of his bottoms away from the small splashes of water in his way.

Squinting over the water to Talen’s energetic figure he shyly barks back “I-I’m not sure how?”.

“It's easy!” a cheerful yell rings out as Talen, barely keeping balance, pushes all his energy into a full body gesture feigning the action to take. The boy perks up at the demonstration with an eager smile. Looking down at the stone, confidently rubbing his fingers into a firm grip, he winds his body back, before finally launching forward with all his might. In a flash the stone slipped loose, skipping at speed across the water landing with a sudden splash at both sides of the river.

“You did it!!!” muffled words heard under the warble of water, attempting to lift himself up out of the shallows, gasping, soggy and shocked.

With another great splash, feathered hands reach out for his, helping him to his feet.

“I haven’t ever seen anybody do anything like that on their first try! That was amazin’!” Talen remarks overjoyed at his new friend’s show of skill.

His face falling as their eyes meet, the boy near tears, cold and embarrassed. 

“I-I’m sorry” he splutters out.

“Here l-let’s”.

Talen helps the boy now looking more like a pup, back up onto his bank of the river under that lone tree, taking off and wrapping his old poncho around him.

“Sorry you got all wet”, he says quietly after a while, hanging his head and pulling at the grass under his clay clad wet boots.

The pup now, who seemed to look more boy-like, pulled the ratty poncho down, his head popping free, wiping away muddy hair, from his hazy blue eyes.

Looking down at the blades of torn out grass and small blue flowers at his toes, then to the boy sitting next to him.

“Do you- Do you know how to make these?” he says, threading and knotting two flower stems delicately together.

Talen looks up wary in his eyes, he doesn't meet the boy's gaze just yet, letting go of the clumps of grass as his eyes meet with the steadily forming chain of flowers.

“I’d seen my mom do those, didn't ever get shown how” he looks back to his clumps of grass doubtful.

“I could show you?” Muffled a reply from beneath the poncho.

“What? Show me? But…” he trails off, head sinking into his knees.

A baby blue flower pokes through, gently poking the tip of his nose.

“You showed me how to do that cool rock thing”.

Bursting down his own walls “But- but I made you fall!” Talen exclaimed.

The boy shines him a sheepish smile, twirling the chain of flowers between his fingers, “and it was fun! Fun to have a friend”.

Their eyes meet once again, all of the two’s anxieties having drifted away down stream, their shared deep desire laid bare and rang clear, all the two of them ever wanted was a friend.

Their arms strewn round one another in comforting reassurance as chuckles of muffled joyous laughter slipped between the cracks.

That day the two of them felt a wholeness they never had before, returning every day by the river to play, tell stories and grow up together.

Everyday until the red war came.

Hello, hello!

If you made it all the way down here conga rats! [a treat 4 u! 🥞]

Seriously tho thanks, I've been really trying to practice my writing for HeartFeller and other things.

This is the backstory to two key characters from my game, that isnt really in the game in this form [ at the moment anyway ], Talen Cairo and Lord Faolan Rend, theyre both around 7-10ish here.

Yes theyre dumb and in love also, love them alot.

[emily-chant]

Entry III - Chant

I just want to clarify something before we continue. When I woke up, I couldn’t remember any personal details about myself, but I was a far cry from a blank slate. I knew how things worked, how to drive, how to make coffee. I knew that Washington DC was the capital of the US, that a Colt SA Army 357 Magnum held 6 rounds, and that Game of Thrones went to shit after season 4. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like there was a me-shaped hole in my otherwise untouched mental landscape; there were blank spots aplenty. I just wasn’t born yesterday. 

I tell you this because, as Hill grumbled and reshuffled the photos of my murder scene back into his case file, my fractured memory informed me that lawyers tend to be perceived as slimy or unpleasant. Now, I think that’s unfair to a good number of people who work in the legal industry. After all, I’m told that I’ve worked my share of disreputable jobs. But when my attorney walked into that interrogation room, my only thought was that the prejudice didn’t go far enough. 

He looked perfectly average. Average. That’s the word but it isn’t strong enough. The utter, complete banality of the man cannot be overstated. He was aggressively unremarkable. He reeked of the ordinary. 

His skin was somewhere between olive and pink. His hair straddled the boundary between brown and black. He was neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin. His gray suit and blue tie were inexpensive but tasteful. 

He was median, mode, and mean embodied. The most common of all denominators. He was the platonic Form of blandness. 

And when I met his eyes, I felt every hair on my arms stand straight up. 

Like the rest of him, they were entirely normal - a solid medium brown, neither wide nor narrow. But there was a stillness to them, a detached, almost predatory stillness. Like a snake just before it lunges, or a shark before it bites. It was only for a fraction of a second, but in that moment every muscle in my body urged me to get up, get away, get anywhere that this man wasn’t. 

As though he could sense my sudden tension and sought to dispel it, the lawyer’s face broke into a staggeringly everyday smile. Most of the calculating frigidity vanished from his eyes as he paced forward towards me, his sensible shoes clicking on the tile floor, a briefcase in one hand and the other stretching out towards me. I made no move, but attempted to reciprocate his friendly demeanor with a wan smile of my own. 

He rested his free hand on my shoulder and bent down to come face-to-face with me. His grip on my shoulder was firm but gentle, and his professionally warm expression remained, but I could feel his eyes studying me - as though they were looking for something that was hidden on my features. Finally, he spoke, his voice neither treble nor bass, neither reedy nor gravelly. 

“Emily. I don’t believe it.”

His tone was one of shocked relief, and he turned to Lieutenant Hill, who had been abiding those few moments in a practiced state of silence and observation. 

“Detective,” said my lawyer, “you have no idea what this means to Miss Chant’s family. When they heard -”

“And how,” interrupted Hill in a tone of with gruff but polite firmness, “exactly - did they hear about this? Mister...”

“Dawes,” replied the painfully ordinary man, not at all taken aback by Hill’s apparent suspicion. He produced a business card from his jacket pocket and presented it to the police officer, who took it and looked it over sourly. “The Chants’ family lawyer. And please forgive me, Lieutenant, but I have had a private detective working on tracking down Miss Chant for some time now. I assume someone in your or the medical examiner’s staff passed along the good news.”

“Private dick, huh?” Hill’s face was curling into an impressive and no doubt frequently-employed frown. “You got-”

He cut himself off as Dawes popped open his briefcase and produced a manila folder thick with documents. He handed it off to Hill with a polite, almost apologetic grin. 

“Copies of the investigator’s contract and produced casework,” he straightened and rested his briefcase on the metal table before folding his hands behind his back, “Miss Chant’s family has been deeply concerned about her disappearance. It appears that she...” Dawes glanced down at me with an expression of fond reprimand, “emptied a shared account and went on a bit of a spree, following an argument with her mother a few weeks ago. After a few too many missed calls, her parents began to worry.”

“Uh-huh,” murmured Hill as he leafed through the private investigator’s casework, “Isn’t twenty-eight a little old for that kinda thing?”

Dawes shrugged. “We’re just happy that she’s safe.”

“Yeah,” said Hill, closing the attorney’s folder, “about that. How familiar are you with the details of Miss Chant’s reappearance?”

The lawyer cocked his head, the very picture of perplexed politesse. He frowned slightly, his eyes flicking from his own folder to the police files tucked away in front of the lieutenant. Hill offered no explanation in response. 

“I had heard that she broke into a medical examiner’s office,” Dawes said finally, “Either that or she was, ah, ‘involved’ with someone who worked there and chose to get a little... ‘adventurous’ with their romantic venue.” He shook his head, as though shaking off a dusting of embarrassment. 

Hill’s sour expression took an a skeptical twist. “I see. It’ll surprise you to learn, then, that your client woke up after being pronounced dead four hours earlier?”

The unremarkable lawyer’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced from Hill, to me, to Hill again. “You really... If this is some kind of joke, Detective -”

“No joke, Mr. Dawes,” Hill settled back into his chair, as well as the stiff straight-backed seat allowed, and opened his case folder once more. He splayed out the crime scene photos in front of me and the attorney. 

Dawes stooped and began looking over the photos. Once in a while, he shot a look back at me - a growing expression of horror on his face - before turning his gaze to the butchery shown in the photos. 

“It looks like someone took a fire ax to your client’s chest cavity,” Hill continued after a few moments. Dawes had his hand over his mouth, clearly rendered momentarily speechless. “So yeah, don’t think she was feeling particularly ‘adventurous.”

His eyes shifted over me to and his hard expression softened a little bit. “Sorry kid, I don’t mean to be harsh. Just laying out the facts for your counsel here.”

It took Dawes several minutes to collect himself after scanning the text of the police report. Finally, he spoke up, his vanilla voice strained with some cocktail of confusion and revulsion. 

“She...” he glanced back at me before continuing, “she died?”

Hill nodded grimly. 

“So...” Dawes continued, as though working through a knot of logic in his head,  “Is her death certificate available?”

The detective’s brows furrowed as he looked from the attorney, to the photos, to me, and back.

“What?” 

“Her death certificate,” said the lawyer, and something lean and hungry flickered across his excruciatingly average face, “if she was dead, where is her death certificate?”

Hill made an exasperated gesture. “Really? That’s your focus right now? The paperwork? She came back from the dead.”

“If that’s so,” there was a kind of muted glee in Dawes’ voice, the sort of thrill that a chess player feels when he sees his adversary’s king exposed, “then surely there is a death certificate.”

I felt something in me sink, though I didn’t know why. Unconsciously, I think I had been rooting for Hill, if only because I found my lawyer so unnerving.

“We didn’t process one yet,” the detective had risen from his seat, propping himself up in the palms of his hands, “we didn’t even perform an autopsy, that was slated for this afternoon.”

Dawes lifted his hands, palms out in a placating gesture. “Easy, lieutenant. I don’t mean to needle you. I’m simply saying that, from a legal standpoint, the blinking,  breathing girl to my right is very much alive.”

“And?” said Hill, a growl entering his voice.

“And,” continued Dawes in a steady tone, “while a dead girl can afford to cool her heels on a mortuary slab while her paperwork is processed, my client is alive, unharmed, and wearing nothing but hospital scrubs one size too large.”

I’ve seen mountains that were less stony than the detective’s glare in those moments, but he said nothing. Instead, he closed his eyes, let out a long breath through his nose, and sat back down. 

“Is my client under arrest?” asked Dawes, his tone eminently reasonable.

“She could be,” said Hill, looking up at the lawyer as though seeing him clearly for the first time. “Could run her in for trespassing. Indecent exposure.”

“Really, detective?” Dawes asked plaintively, every bit the long-suffering advocate. 

“To use your argument, dead girls can’t trespass. But your client, being so ‘very much alive,’ has no reason to skulk around an ME’s lab in nothing but her birthday suit.”

The lawyer rested his hand on my shoulder, still facing the detective, but didn’t respond. Even then, I knew he had won - that he was getting me out of there. I didn’t know how to feel about it, though. Hill’s eyes met mine and he let out another sigh, this one more resigned than its predecessor. 

“You aren’t under arrest, kid,” he looked back up to Dawes, “you can get her out of here, but I expect the full cooperation of both yourself and that private dick of yours as we try to sort this shitstorm out.”

The attorney smiled magnanimously and bowed his head, a gesture of acknowledgement more than respect. “You’ll have it.”

It took another hour for everything to get sorted out, but it was around sunset that I, still barefoot, stepped out of the police station onto the busy sidewalk of Major American City on the East Coast.  I was flanked on one side by Hill, and on the other by Dawes. I felt the detective’s hand on my shoulder, this one rougher but somehow more reassuring than that of my victorious counsel. 

“If you need anything, kid,” Hill assured me, his eyes in the middle distance, “give me a call. You’ll know where to find me.”

With that, he let go of my shoulder and leaned against the frame of the precinct’s door. 

There was a black town-car waiting for me and Dawes in front of the station, its windows tinted - one of which boasted stickers for both Uber and Lyft. He opened the door and held it for me, and I slid into the cool darkness of its interior. After a moment, the door on the opposite side opened and he slid into the back seat as well. 

And with that, we were off - ducking and weaving through the traffic of downtown with the jerking starts and stops of a hurried Uber driver. I stared out the window for a long time, too lost in my own confusion and turmoil to ask any of the questions that ate at me. Dawes was taking me back to my parents, they would help me sort things out. 

We were approaching a tunnel now, not an unusual sight in a city that hadn’t so much grown out as up, and it was at this point I glanced over at the exceedingly, blindingly ordinary man that was to deliver me to my family. 

I had to suppress a shiver. Gone was any effort to appear affable or approachable. Absent was any affectation of humanity. He stared forward at the roadway ahead of him, neither breathing nor blinking. His body was tense with predatory stillness, his face devoid of the slightest emotion. I took a steadying breath to constrain the panic rising in my chest and caught a faint acrid scent, like burning hair or battery acid. 

He must have caught my glance, as he slowly fixed me with a soulless gaze. His mouth twisted into a mirthless smile and he spoke, his voice emptier than I thought a voice could be.

“Well, that’s it then.”

He turned forward again just as the Uber entered the tunnel. Things went black for a few tense moments. I heard the voice again. 

“See you around, spellbreaker.”

Then we emerged from the tunnel, and the amber light of the setting sun flooded into the back seat. I was alone. 

[movedto-galenmarekstan]

—BRUISES & BACTA PACKS summary: just some good old-fashioned hurt/comfort a/n: this was a request i got before i nuked my old blog so this is for you sweet anon

In just one day, the only life Kallus knew was over.

He was free from the Empire. The relief of a clear conscience was almost blissful, but he would’ve had to be blind to not notice the suspicion he was met with from his new allies. 

The Rebels, many of whom had been injured during the attack on the Atollon base, glared heatedly towards him and the ISB armor he wore.

Kallus had no doubt they were projecting their hatred for the Empire and the pain of what they had lost onto him, but he couldn’t fault them for that.

So he kept to himself, despite the cramped hallway of the Ghost they shared. He grunted as he slowly sat down against the wall, stretching his legs out. Pain shot through him with every breath and he closed his eyes, focusing on controlling his breathing. For a man who fought a war from the safety of a Star Destroyer, Thrawn was utterly brutal in hand-to-hand combat. 

Kallus was certain the Admiral had broken a rib, at the very least. 

It wasn’t long before Kallus found himself drifting off to sleep, exhausted from combat, torture, and the adrenaline leaving his system now that he was something close to safe. 

But only a few minutes passed before he was startled awake by a sharp noise. A door had opened on the opposite end of the hall and a familiar woman stepped through. 

You kneeled beside the nearest wounded soldier, speaking softly as you held a flashlight to his eyes. 

Kallus recognized you, of course. The Ghost crew’s medic; not officially a Specter but still an invaluable asset to the team. Back when he spent day and night hunting the Lothal Rebels, you had played a role in nearly every operation and he took it upon himself to find out all he could about you. 

There hadn’t been much to find, however; all he knew was that you had been born on Hosnian Prime, attended the Imperial Academy to become a combat medic, and then abandoned your career for unknown reasons. 

Not long ago, he had planned to capture you and use you as leverage against your Rebel friends, but they protected you too fiercely for him to even get close. 

He watched you now as you made your way down the line of Rebels. Their injuries weren’t too severe, most only needing a bacta patch or spray; but you still took your time, only moving on when you were satisfied they were okay. 

Kallus was up next. He tried to sit up straighter, but a sudden sharp pain quickly stopped him. You smoothed a bacta patch over the last shoulder’s arm and looked over at Kallus. He fought the urge to fix his hair. His anxiety must have shown on his face as your eyes softened and you gave him a kind smile, walking over to kneel at his side. 

“Kallus,” you said, your voice barely above a gentle murmur, “you look awful.”

He chuckled and immediately regretted it. “I feel it, too. I’ve had a very bad day.” 

“I’ve heard. Where does it hurt?” 

Kallus patted his ribcage and you immediately got to work; skilled hands quickly removing his chestplate and the layered uniform underneath just enough for you to examine his torso. 

You gently touched his ribs and Kallus flinched, both in pain and the heat of your palm as it moved down his side, applying just the slightest pressure to each rib. You were being as gentle as you could and that… meant something to him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him with such care. 

But perhaps he was reading too much into it. After living disconnected from others for so long, it was no wonder he would be affected by the slightest bit of compassion. 

Your touch disappeared and Kallus opened his eyes — which had closed slipped without his notice — to see you rummaging through your medkit. He paled at the sight of several syringes in a neat row. 

“Two of your ribs are bruised but not broken.” You pulled out a few bacta patches. “These will help with the pain, but don’t do anything strenuous for a few days.” You ripped the packets open with your teeth. Kallus helped by lifting his uniform so you could use both hands. 

You gave him a grateful smile and again you touched him, warming the skin that had suddenly felt so cold. Kallus was glad you were so focused on treating him that you didn’t notice his blush. 

Three patches of bacta were applied to his ribs, held in place by medical tape wrapped around his torso. You checked your work with a critical eye before you fixed his uniform. “Done. Now, let me take a look at your eye.” 

You hovered your hands on either side of his head, silently asking if you could touch his face. He nodded and you cupped his jaw in your hands. 

You gently tilted his head towards the light. 

Oh. 

With nowhere else to look but your face, it was as though Kallus was seeing you for the first time. And he thought you had an effect on him before. The light eclipsing over your shoulder made you look like an angel. 

“It should heal just fine on its own,” you said, one hand moving to hold the back of his head as you picked up a thin metal tube, “but I’ll give you some bacta anyways.” 

“Thank you for this.” Kallus murmured once you were done spraying his eye. 

Your entire demeanor softened. Kallus wondered how often you got a “thank you” in your line of work. You patted his shoulder comfortingly. “You’re welcome, Kallus.” 

“Alexsandr.”

He wasn’t sure why he wanted you to call him by his given name, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it after hearing his name from your lips. 

“Alexsandr.” You smiled. “Don’t be afraid to call for me if you need anything, alright?”

With that, you packed up the last of your supplies and gave him a tiny wave before you moved on to the next injured soldier. You spoke to her with the same gentle tone as you did him and he couldn’t help but feel… disappointed. Which was utterly ridiculous, he reprimanded himself. 

You were a medic — of course you would treat everyone the same. 

He wasn’t special. He was imagining things. 

[masonmountx]

whispered confessions • mason mount┆part 1┆⋆

summary: you agree to a quick getaway with Dec and a few friends, which somehow results in you sharing a bed with the one person you despise the most, Mason Mount.

tropes: enemies to lovers (kinda), forced proximity (more so in part two)

warnings: none that I can think of :))

a/n: this is my first ever fic so I'd appreciate any feedback on here/via asks!! hope you enjoy <33

You stood at the hotel reception waiting to check into your room. Surrounding you was elegance and luxury as crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The sun was shining through the windows, illuminating the intricate designs that were carved into the interior of the hotel. You glanced around in admiration, feeling a sudden sense of relief to agreeing to this last-minute holiday, planned by your closest friends Dec and his girlfriend. Also invited were a few other friends but most of them were unable to make it due to the short notice. Unfortunately for you, only Dec's best friend Mason was coming along on this trip. For some reason, Mason never got along with you, so the two of you were practically at each other's throats at any given moment.

At first, you were completely against the idea of going on holiday with him. However, Lauren managed to convince you to join them as it has been a while since you went abroad together. Reluctantly you agreed, knowing that you would have to tolerate the sight of Mason whilst trying to enjoy your short holiday. You had also promised her that you would remain civil with Mason, considering you and Lauren rarely get to go on holidays together, so you would not want to do anything to ruin it.

After queuing for what seemed like an eternity, it was finally our turn to check in. Dec talked to the receptionist as he was the one with all the booking information. Everything was going smoothly until you heard the confusion in the receptionist's voice.

"I'm sorry, but the system says that you have only booked two rooms," she explained apologetically. Your head shot her direction, almost giving you whiplash as you realised it meant that you and Mason would be sharing a room. You urged Dec to find out if there were any available rooms because you knew full well that if you were to share a room with Mason, neither of you would get any sleep, and not in a good kind of way. Mason had his signature cocky smirk plastered on his face whilst pushing his tongue against his cheek, making you roll your eyes. Did he have something to do with this?

The hotel was fully booked so we had to stick with the original two rooms that we had reserved. Dec apologised profusely, to which you reassured him it wasn't his fault since the receptionist admitted to a system error at the time of booking.

"You and Lauren should share a room and I'll share one with Mase," Dec suggested whilst we took the elevator to our floor. You considered this for a split second because you would do anything to not share a room with Mason. But then your thoughts drifted to Dec's busy work schedule and how he booked this getaway to spend more time with his girlfriend, which he can't exactly do by sharing a room with Mason.

"No, you should share with Lauren, I'll be fine with Mason," you replied through gritted teeth and a forced smile, almost choking on the last few words.

"You sure?" Dec questioned hesitantly, doubt evident in his voice as he glanced between you and Mason.

You didn't trust yourself to speak so you simply nodded. From the corner of your eyes, you notice Mason raise his eyebrows with surprise as you had just agreed to share a room with him of all people. You were immediately flooded with regret but it was too late to change your mind.

It’s only for a couple of nights, not much can happen right?

...you could not have been more wrong.

[bumbleklee]

Hi! I love your work and I’ve been binging it for a while! <3 I was wondering if I could have some angst and a broken heart since it seems I like to suffer. ;’) Can I have headcannon with an insecure adventurer reader who’s in a relationship with one of the Mondstadt boys (or just the dark night because I’m down bad since he didn’t come home). They are insecure because while they are a great adventurer, ever since the traveler came, they’ve been living in the traveler’s shadow with everyone, even possibly the readers lover, praising the traveler. The reader takes on increasingly difficult missions, even putting their life on the line since they feel as though they have to prove themselves. In an attempt to stop the reader, the Mondstadt boys tell the reader that they aren’t the traveler, but instead of the good intent behind it, the reader takes it as if their lover prefers the traveler and decides to try and give up adventuring since they realized that not once did their lover go on an adventure with them, but they did with the Traveler. This was long, I’m sorry, but feel free to reject it! Stay safe and healthy!

hey!!! a few little notes: i ended up going with just diluc and instead of hcs, i wrote a little one-shot. i hope you enjoy it and i hope i nailed your idea lol <3 enjoy! (requests are open)  also: u will pull diluc!!! and thank u for ur support :3

before reading: 1.8k words, little mentions of blood but nothing graphic, kinda angsty w feelings of despair (tw?? idk), under cut for length

The first time you realized you had fallen into Lumine’s shadow is when your weekly commissions are given to her. Jean didn’t give you much explanation when she sent you home for the day but you could only assume it’s because Lumine could do them better

The second time is when you were absent for a weekend to clear out Hiluchurls from Wolvendome and when you returned back to Mondstadt to share the news, everyone was preoccupied helping Lumine find her brother.

The third time is when, despite your tireless efforts to protect your hometown this year, Lumine was chosen as the Windblume Star.

You had gone from the Knights of Favonius' greatest knight to a mere shadow. Your accomplishments and achievements felt like nothing when compared to Lumine’s and you became desperate to be known again. You watched your teammates pick Lumine over you, choosing to accompany her on adventures, and your friends constantly chatting about how amazing she was.

And, well, she was.

Lumine was beautiful. She was delicate and soft and fought gracefully, while you often came home covered in dirt or blood. And she was kind - so, so kind. She offered her hand to you on multiple occasions, never once seeing you as the threat you saw her as. And beyond her looks, Lumine was passionate and strong and everything you were not. She had everything you had and more except for one thing.

Diluc.

But when you saw Lumine sitting at the bar in the tavern, sharing a daring story with your boyfriend, you became doubtful.

From your seat on the second level of the tavern, you had a perfect view of the pair. Diluc looked happy - perhaps even happier than with you - and your heart broke. Would Lumine be the end of an era between you and Diluc? You loved Diluc to death and all you wanted was for him to be happy.

The truth was, you were running out of patience, running out of fake enthusiasm and fake laughs and fake smiles when Diluc bragged to you about what Lumine did that day. The constant praises and compliments towards a woman who wasn’t even in the room tore you apart bit-by-bit. You were finding it harder to get through each day as Diluc slipped through your fingers.

When you finally broke your silence, you talked to Kaeya.

It was an accidental breakdown - Kaeya had made a cheeky comment about how his brother was spending an awfully lot of time with the traveler and you just broke down. Realizing the severity of the situation, Kaeya pulled you into his office and closed the door. He let you sit at his desk until you calmed down.

“What’s going on?”

So, you told him. You finally let out the bottled up despair and, frankly, jealousy you had been holding in for the past few weeks. You told Kaeya about how you went from ‘hero to zero’ and how you didn’t even deserve to be a knight anymore.

“If I’m not a knight, I don’t have a purpose,” You said solemnly. “I haven’t picked up my sword in a month, Kaeya.”

Kaeya makes a noise of acknowledgement and urges you to continue.

“And I can’t stand how she’s better than me! I’m the Revolutionary Knight - not her!” Despite your angered words, you’re suppressing panic deep in your chest. “She’s already taken so much from me and she’s going to take Diluc.”

“Diluc loves you,” Kaeya reassures you. You’ve never heard his voice this soft and serious before. “Nothing Lumine can do is going to make Diluc ever stop loving you.”

Deep down, you knew that. You knew that Diluc loved you and planned to marry you one day, you knew that. It was just hard to convince your heart of that. As you stared down at the floor, you heard Kaeya sigh.

“Maybe you just need to show him you’re just as good at Lumine.”

That night, you packed a bag before Diluc got home from the tavern and left for Liyue. You would fight the Cryo Regisvine and bring back Diluc a hoarfrost core. He would see your heroic nature and forget all about Lumine - they all would.

***

When Diluc came home that night to find your absence, he began to worry. You were never one to leave without saying anything so Diluc rushed to the Knight’s Headquarters quickly. He was fortunate that Jean and Kaeya were still there finalizing some paperwork.

“Master Diluc?” Jean asked, rising from her desk as Diluc rushed inside her office. “Is everything alright?”

“Y/N is missing,” He said quickly.

“Missing? Are you sure?”

“Yes! They never go anywhere without telling me,” Diluc continued. He noticed Kaeya avert his gaze and snapped his eyes over to his brother, “Kaeya, what do you know?”

“I may have told them to do something heroic to win you back,” Kaeya said, realizing his idea may not have been the best.

Diluc’s eyes widened, “Win me back?”

Kaeya sighed and explained what was going on with you. Diluc’s heart dropped into his stomach and he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. He should have been praising you, not Lumine. “They mentioned something about the Cryo Regisvine-”

Diluc didn’t let Kaeya speak another word before he took off. You couldn’t have gotten that far and when Diluc noticed the darkening weather, his feet picked up their pace.

***

A fierce gust of wind made you cover your face with your arms. Out of nowhere, it started pouring rain but you wouldn’t let that stop you. You pushed through the impending storm and made your way down into the cave where the ice monster lived. You gripped your sword tightly as the monster sensed your presence and unraveled, turning the downcoming rain into shards of ice that landed on your skin like needles.

Without much delay, you charged the Cryo Regisvine and landed three hits on its corolla before one of its leafy arms wacked into you, sending you hurdling backwards. Your sword was knocked out of your hand and you struggled to catch your breath.

More sharp icicles pierced your skin and a spray of freezing air coated your skin. Yet, you still managed to grab your sword and stand. Your hobbled toward the monster again and when the same leafy arm came towards you, you slashed at it.

The monster let out a screech and retracted itself before slamming it’s head down towards your body. You dodged the first hit but were caught off guard when the second hit knocked you off your feet. You barely had time to roll away when it slammed it’s head down a third time.

“Y/N!”

Diluc surged forwards, grabbing your arm and forcefully pulling you to your feet. Your sword became lost from your hold and the sudden movement caused the blade to scrape down your leg before clambering to the ground again. A nasty gash was left and you seethed.

He couldn’t even think as he pulled you away from the monster. You had never seen Diluc move so fast. He didn’t let you go until you were both far enough from the cave to feel secure. Diluc’s arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly and you were too stunned to say anything.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Your mind felt foggy. You tried to open your mouth and speak but no words came out.

“Do you realize how dangerous that was?”

“I just...Lumine…”

Diluc pulled back at this and stared in your eyes. You couldn’t quite match the emotion on his face. “You’re not Lumine!”

His words cut deep and you felt tears soak your eyes. Maybe if your head was clearer and you could actually hear your thoughts, you would have realized Diluc didn’t mean it that way. But the only thing consuming your mind was that he was right. You weren’t Lumine and you would never be Lumine. “I know!” You cried out suddenly, “That’s why I have to go and kill that thing! So I can give you a hoarfrost core and you’ll love me again!”

Diluc only looked at you. His hands ran down from your shoulders to your hands and he brought your left hand to his lips. You heard him sigh before kissing your knuckle gently.

Your wet hair was dripping water down your face in freezing cold droplets. At that moment you felt useless. You weren’t able to fight the Cryo Regisvine and bring Diluc a hoarfrost core. He would leave you for Lumine and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You’re hurt,” Diluc said, motioning to your leg. In your desolate state, you had forgotten about the gaping wound on your leg that was pouring blood. “Come on - we’re going home.”

You were too upset to protest and let Diluc maneuver your body onto his back. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck and relished in the warmth his vision released. You held onto Diluc like it was the last time you ever would.

The walk back to Mondstadt was silent and when you two arrived at your shared house, Diluc let you down on the couch. You could only stare at your lap.

“I’m sorry,” You finally mumbled, “Next time I’ll finish what I started.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Diluc said sternly, “No way you’re ever going there alone again.”

Your face stiffened into annoyance. “I’m the Revolutionary Knight - I can do it.”

“No, you can’t.” His words seemed cold and unusual but they were coated in concern. Diluc reached up and cupped your face with his large hands. You tried to pull away but his grip was firm, “It’s okay.”

The situation was suddenly overwhelming and far too much to deal with. The tears you had been holding back tumbled down your cheeks and your words were choked between sobs, “Lumine is so perfect and I’m not...I don’t want you to leave me...I know I’m not good enough but-”

He stopped your rambling with a kiss. “Don’t ever think you’re not good enough,” He whispered, taking you into his arms. You hid your sobs in Diluc’s chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Eventually, your cries settled.

Diluc spent the rest of the night dressing your wound and laying with you in your bed. He didn’t stop comforting you until every horrible thought about yourself was gone from your mind. In the morning he would talk to you more but for now, his job was to make you feel strong again.

And it would take a while but one day you would come to realize that you were just as good as Lumine and no one could truly compare to you. Like the storm on that horrifying night, this too would pass.

[aminiatureworld]

Old Faces

Characters: Albedo, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,151

Warnings: None

Premise: In which the reader runs into their ex

Author’s Note: Did something a little different by changing which character perspective it was for different prompts. I found it a good way to explore this particular prompt.

Albedo

The moment Albedo walked out of his office door he felt his stomach sink a bit.

Though the alchemist liked to think that he was a man of perfect rationality, whether by nature or by will, he couldn’t help but feel a knot in his stomach as he watched you talking to your ex.

Albedo knew that things hadn’t ended well in your last relationship, knew that there had been a lot of shouting and crying done by both parties, all culminating in you getting kicked out of your shared apartment. You didn’t like to talk about it even now, focusing on your relationship with Albedo instead of dwelling on the past. If any reminder of your ex ever surfaced you usually glared it before moving on.

That knowledge made your evidently awkward conversation all the worse. As you leaned against one of the beams which held up the alchemy front, seemingly distancing yourself as much as possible from the person in front of you, Albedo felt a sudden urge to run and wedge himself between the two of you. OF course he would never act upon something so unhelpful, but the alchemist was finding more and more that he’d be seized by illogical wishes the more he opened himself up to you.

Now he curbed his thoughts and made his way over, planting himself firmly next to you and not bothering to introduce himself beyond a curt nod. Not as if he needed an introduction anyways, as Albedo had run into your former partner a few times before, and the icy coldness between him and them was completely natural, at least on Albedo’s part.

“Ah Albedo!” You turned, smiling brightening for a moment. Placing a quick kiss on the alchemist’s cheek, something which caused warmth to immediately flood his face, you turned back towards your ex. “I’m sure you know about my partner, this is Albedo.”

“So you’ve been screwing around with this runt,” you ex shook his head as if disgusted. Narrowing his eyes, Albedo felt irritation wash over him, and for a moment he wondered if there was a potion that might indispose your ex for at least a week that could be easily hidden.

“Yes I’m currently in a relationship with him,” you replied, ignoring your ex’s jeer. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“None of my business? Don’t I have the right to be worried for you?”

“Oh please,” you snorted. “If you really worried about me you wouldn’t have kicked me out. Now if you please I have something to do. I’m very glad to hear that you’re well and getting your life on track and everything, but in truth I think this is really awkward, so could you please give me at least a head’s up next time.”

“You’re still think you’re better than everyone,” your ex spat.

“No, they don’t.” Albedo heard himself say, finding himself more and more irritated by this conversation. “But though they would never admit it, they are certainly better than you. I suggest you listen to their warnings, otherwise there are a few elixirs that could certainly use a human test subject.”

Your ex’s face paled, and they let out a curse before turning away. Suddenly feeling very depleted of energy Albedo sighed.

“Hey, thanks for that.”

“Of course,” Albedo looked up at you. “You seemed uncomfortable.”

“I was,” you admitted. “They weren’t really listening to me, so thank you.”

Leaning over to kiss Albedo once more you stopped in surprise as your partner tilted his head so that your lips met his, instead of the cheek you were aiming for. Pulling back Albedo looked at the ground.

“Sorry, I realize that wasn’t what you were planning.”

“I don’t mind!” Your reply came fast. “I’m just surprised. You okay?”

“Of course I’m alright,” Albedo looked at you. “You should be more worried about yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I be also worried about you?” You tilted your head. “I know that you don’t really like conflict. And I’m sure that was awkward for you as well.”

Albedo said nothing in reply, merely leaning over to kiss you gently on the forehead. You were so quick to notice things sometimes he couldn’t fathom it.

As the afternoon drifted on Albedo found himself once more thinking about how wonderful you were. There was no one in the world like you, no one nearly so precious to him, so worthy of love. If this was beyond the intelligence of a shadow of the past, well, what did it matter.

  Xiao

“Why don’t you just go back to them?”

You stared at your partner, surprised by the words that had just come out of his mouth. All day Xiao had been as prickly as a cactus, even more standoffish than usual, and all day you’d been trying to coax some words out of the silent yaksha who had taken to standing next to you all day. Now you wondered if that hadn’t been a mistake.

“What do you mean?” You felt your voice waver slightly. “Xiao why are you telling me to go back to my ex?”

You had run into a former significant other of yours at the Inn a day ago, as they had taken up a carpentry contract for the rotting bits of stairwell that made the Inn so difficult to manage sometimes. Though you two had long since been finished, the split had been amicable, and at the time it had felt nostalgic to simply chat with an old friend, a memory of an earlier part of your life when everything had been so different.

Though you were certainly aware that Xiao might have been watching, a suspicion confirmed by the adeptus’ questions that evening, you had never thought much of it. Sure it was your former partner, but it was too long ago to even think about now. You had been a dumb kid then, and though you might not be infallible now, you were certainly different. Standing across from your partner now you realized that not everyone appeared to hold the same opinon.

“Xiao, I know that I was talking to my ex yesterday, but just because I was doing so doesn’t mean I don’t love you or care about you. That was a very long time ago for me, if not for you, and I don’t see in them a partner anyone, I haven’t for years. I understand if you might not feel the same way regarding the timeframe, but there’s no reason to, well, I don’t know what you’re doing right now.”

You stared at your partner, who appeared to be glaring at the railing right next to your hand. You loved Xiao, despite all the rumors that often circulated him and the rest of the adepti. You also knew that Xiao had an incredibly fine-tuned sense of justice and logic. He normally wouldn’t hurl something at you like a challenge. Though he wasn’t perhaps the most well-versed in the ordinary lives of humans, you would hardly call him oblivious to human customs. Partner’s weren’t always partner’s for life. Why then was Xiao acting so cagey?

Now you partner let out a small “hmph!” Shifting himself so he was facing the outside, he stared out at the inky night of Liyue. His cheeks were warmed by the flickering candles of the Inn, and in that moment he seemed oddly vulnerable.

“Xiao,” you ventured. “Is something wrong, are you, are you still uneasy about yesterday.”

For a moment Xiao said nothing, and your heart began to sink. As you turned to walk away however you heard the soft tones of your partner’s voice.

“Would you be happier with them?”

“No,” the answer came automatic and true, “though I may have been their partner once, now they’re merely a friend. There is no one like you to me Xiao, there never will be; I realized that a while ago. Even if you worry about your karma or you lack of knowledge or whatever you shouldn’t worry that I’ll ever leave you.”

You quickly found yourself enveloped in your partner’s embrace. Letting a small sigh of relief pass your lips you returned the embrace fiercely. Feeling the arms around you tighten ever so slightly you found the strangest urge to laugh. Maybe because it was so silly, the idea that you would ever leave your partner. Though it was sad that he would never know how deeply those feelings ran.

“I’ll never go back to anyone but you,” you murmured.

 Zhongli

The first thing Zhongli thought was that you two looked so right together.

Though the ex-archon did not like to admit it, the doubts that he had had at the beginning of the relationship still plagued him. Not the doubts about his love for you, oh no he could never doubt such a thing not if all the stars went out. No, his doubts lay in himself, in who he was. Perhaps it was wrong of him to still linger on his impending immortality, something that you assured him you had come to terms with. It felt disrespectful towards your decision to continuously feel this way. Yet standing at the door of the Funeral Parlor, watching as you chatted with your former partner, Zhongli could not help but feel the familiar pain.

The walk home was spent in a bit of a fog, as Zhongli half-listened to you discuss your day. Normally he found everything about you fascinating, and the things your job put you through were no different. This time though the words trickled off his back like water off a duck’s wings, the image of your and your “ex”, as you called it, pressing down upon him.

“My love?” He found himself saying, not realizing he had made up the decision to ask you something. You paused your conversation, titling your head slightly.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” It was a lie perhaps, but an understandable one. “I just wished to comment upon the fact that I saw you with your former significant other. I hope that all was well with them.”

“They’re fine,” you replied. “Doing great actually, if what they say is true. Then again then were always prone to lying.” You let out a small laugh.

“Do you miss them?” Zhongli found he could not contain his questions today.

“No, not really. To be honest, talking to them kinda sucked. They sort of half-ghosted me back in the day, and even though you have to keep up appearances and all, I mean I can’t take them to task now, it still hurt.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Oh don’t be!” You shook your head. “I’m perfectly happy where I am now. Even if that whole debacle sucked, it’s worth it if it let this happen.”

The both of you glanced down at you intertwined hands. The image was so perfect in Zhongli’s mind that for a moment all his worries went away, and the golden sun seemed to brighten just a little bit.

Later that evening however Zhongli once more found himself thinking about it. He really had been shaken by you talking with your former partner. Even if they were not the right one, they were still human. Did that not make things easier for you? Happier for you? Zhongli thought back at your hands. How fast would they age in his mind, how fast would you notice how frozen Zhongli was. As if he was carved from rock, the ex-archon could only be eroded slowly. He could not grow old with you.

“My darling?” Zhongli murmured. It was dark and the two of you were in bed. Limbs tangled together, heads nestled close, Zhongli felt as if he could ask what he so feared.

“Yes?” Your voice was heavy with sleep.

“Do you ever regret falling in love with me?”

“No,” your murmured. “I know that you might not believe me, or you might not stop worrying, but you should. I love only you, my dear. I always will. Death will not change how much I love you.”

Zhongli pondered these words as your breathing evened and you slipped off into dreams. How could you say such a thing so nonchalantly, how could you be so sure? Then again, humans always seemed to be more confident in their decisions than those who had been given immortality.

Though the ex-archon wasn’t always fond of sleep, Zhongli felt himself begin to slip away. In the in between of awake and asleep everything seemed painted over, made simple by the logic of one half-dreaming. He would never be rid of these feelings. Perhaps then he should rely on yours. He relied on your for so much already.

Kissing your cheek before finally being dragged into sleep the last coherent thought Zhongli was aware of was that he loved you so very much.

[exyandotherobsessions]

can you write about andrew calling neil captain as a joke but he likes it so much that andrew regularly call him it in bed

~~~

“Just shut up unless you want ten more laps.”

“Damn Neil,” started Nicky, making a gesture of zipping his lips up. “Didn’t know you were as bad as Kevin.”

“Fifteen.”

“Shutting up now.”

Sighing, Neil brushed away the curls of hair falling in front of his eyes before leaving Nicky to his lunges. With Dan and Kevin on some sort of promotional trip for the day, Neil was left to lead the foxes’ training. Granted, the idea sounded much better as just that— an idea. But no one could deny⁠— he was effective.

Blonde and black on orange caught in the corner of his eye, and with a quick jog, he arrived at the other end of the court.

“Having fun?”

Leaned against the goal was Andrew, plucking at the net of his racket with a disinterested look on his face.

“Actually, yes,” replied Neil. They’d barely started, yet Neil’s shirt was already sticking to his torso with sweat. “Are you planning on doing anything?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Just a few rounds?”

“Hope must be a blinding thing.”

“Fine,” said Neil, pulling a light scowl. “But you’re covering the goal so the rest of them can practice.”

“Yes captain.”

The word was barely uttered, yet Neil heard it loud and clear over the chatter behind them. His face flushed a deep red and for a split second he froze. To his embarrassment, Andrew seemed to have picked up on it, raising an eyebrow.

“Flustered much?”

“Shut up.”

“Or I’ll get ten laps?”

Neil simply replied with a glare.

~~~

For an strenuous hour (though they’d all have sworn it was two), Neil went on yelling orders to the others. If they were being honest, practice was slightly irritating, possibly because of Neil’s favouritism to a certain blond goalkeeper. But no one could deny; it was almost the most effective they’d been in weeks.

That being said, they were still exhausted, practically dragging themselves out of court. And after a tiring morning of practice, Neil would have been perfectly content spending the rest of the day on Andrew’s lap, or skimming through a math textbook that Nicky had once threatened to burn.

“Wait— Neil hasn’t been to the ice cream place on fifth street, has he?”

But apparently, Nicky had other ideas. Neil sighed redundantly.

“Really?” Asked Matt, frantically turning to face Neil. “Have we seriously never taken you?”

“No, but I don’t really⁠—”

"Well, would you like to⁠—” started Renee, quickly interrupted.

“We’re going now! And you,” emphasised Nicky, pointing directly at Neil, his finger just falling short of Neil’s chest. “Are coming with us.”

With a helpless look on his face, Neil turned to Andrew for some sort of help. But Andrew merely shrugged and turned to Neil. “Have a problem, captain?”

After almost missing his step and falling flat on his face, Neil resisted the very strong urge to roll his eyes.

“As a matter of fact,” started Neil, making deliberate eye contact with Andrew’s unbothered face. “No, I don’t. We’re going.”

That seemed to elicit some sort of reaction from Andrew, even if it were only his eyebrows twitching up slightly in surprise. Neil took it as success, though his satisfaction was quickly wiped away by the rest of their smiling faces rushing him to the car.

Though he wouldn’t admit how contagious their excitement was.

~~~

If Neil was being honest, the place wasn’t half bad.

With bright blue walls and an overenthusiastic waiter, it was practically trademark to the underclassmen, and came with no surprise. Squeezing into a booth, he was grateful for the way Matt next to him tried his best in a feeble attempt to give Neil some space. Neil threw a glance at Andrew, who seemed surprisingly void of regret.

“No, shut up Neil,” started Allison.

“I didn’t— ”

Aggressively, she shushed him with a finger to her lips. “I’m ordering for you. Because a plain vanilla ice cream is not an acceptable choice.”

The way she said it, you’d think Neil had committed a war crime.

“Don’t worry about Allison—” said Nicky, waving her off. “This place is her lifeforce, just smile and wave is my advice.”

Neil noted the way he seemed to have perfectly mastered the art of ignoring Allison shooting daggers with her stares.

Daggers turned to smiles as the waiter came over to the table. As if on script, each person recited their order on cue— except for Neil, whose pleading look was unfortunately not enough to bag a choice.

With a glance, Neil observed as Allison sent a wary glare to Andrew, waiting for his order. And he watched as her look went from wary to puzzled with his dry response.

“Tell the captain to choose for me.”

No words in any of the numerous languages Neil knew were strong enough to describe the feelings that flew through Neil, all at once.

The emphasis on a certain word was obvious, and Nicky’s stare was uncomfortably knowing. And Neil certainly wasn’t the only one blushing faintly.

Only Renee seemed utterly unfazed. “I’d suppose that’s Neil?”

At Neil’s scowl she responded, “…as he’s the captain of the team for the time being, of course?”

Watching tense faces melt slowly, Neil sent a much more grateful look, for which he was rewarded with a glowing smile.

“The same for him, please.”

“So…” started Nicky. “Practice was hard, huh?”

“No,” mumbled Allison. “The captain was.”

“Well I for one have no doubt that Neil would make a delightful captain.”

Neil passed a small smile to Renee.

“As long as we’ve all graduated before.”

“Well, Allison,” started Neil. “It’s not my fault you were sloppy on your—”

“It’s not my fault you left us too tired after warm ups to actually play anything decently!”

“I agree with her, actually,” added Nicky.

“Oh really? Because you weren’t perfect eith —"

“I was glowing, thank you very much.”

The deadpan stare on Neil’s face was answer enough. Allison tried to hide her grin. Something about a riled up Neil was so easily entertaining. And somewhere at the edge of the seat, Andrew shared a glance with Renee, silently thinking the same thing.

Eventually amongst the bickering, came a voice. “Your orders are here, ma’am.”

The waiter looked baffled— so baffled that Neil had to let out a chuckle. Placing down the ice creams that looked too large to be real onto the tables, he disappeared almost as quickly as he came.

“Well,” started Renee, trying to break the silence. “What are Andrew’s thoughts on practice?”

Perking up ever-so-slightly, Andrew said smoothly. “I was just obeying the captain.”

And with that, he ignored the almost flustered breath Neil took in as he shot a world-class glare. If looks could kill, almost everyone at the table would certainly be in danger. Most certainly Andrew.

But his stare was as blank as ever.

~~~

If Neil knew how the evening would turn out, maybe he wouldn’t have pushed himself to exhaustion during training.

Sprawled over the floor with his math book laid out in front of him he flicked through the pages, skimming the pages disinterestedly. Every couple seconds— though he wouldn’t admit it⁠— he stole glances of Andrew, staring vaguely into the air. Numbly, his mind was going over the events of the day, and Neil couldn’t help a certain, faint blush that overcame certain moments.

When the keys jangled, and Nicky left the house, a small glance was shared between the two. Funnily enough, the bed seemed awfully empty all of a sudden.

It started out with small kisses. Andrew’s lips were soft against Neil’s— something that he was grateful for, what with being thoroughly exhausted.

Fingers trailed over bare skin, and with every small touch, Neil felt his breath quiver. With sudden contact, Neil felt his back against the wall. Letting a heated breath out, he felt Andrew’s lips travel over his neck and collarbone, exploring his skin. With Neil’s elbows resting on his shoulders, he let Andrew lead the way.

Soft kisses gradually became more passionate, until both of them were ready for more. Meeting Andrew’s eyes, Neil pushed back ruffled strays of auburn hair.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes, captain.”

The sigh that escaped him was answer enough.

[pepper-up-potion]

Humor me (George Weasley x fem!reader)

Summary: Reader can't stand George Weasley but over time she realizes he might be a good addition to her life.

Warnings: crying, angst, let me know if I missed any.

Word count: 5.5k (this is my longest fic so far!)

A/n: I still don't know how to feel about this. A part of me likes it and a part of me feels it could be better. This is my first enemies to lovers and it was very very fun.

———

“Thanks (y/n)! I can always count on you, you’re a lifesaver.” Shouts Neville as he runs down the hall and towards his next class. (Y/n) had helped him put healing salve and a bandage on his cut hand.

“Anytime!” She smiles as she watches him stumble away. She pulls out her book and sits back down on the windowsill.

“Humour me.” Says a foreign voice.

She looks up frowning. “I’m sorry?” She asks politely.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself?” Asks the red-haired boy.

“What are you talking about? I’m doing that right now.” She points to her book: Charms for first years

“That’s weird because I could’ve sworn you were in my charms class and not in first year.” He argues, shoving his hand in his pockets and clicking his tongue.

“Well I’m helping out a first-year next period but I enjoy doing that so I am doing something for myself.” She explains, slightly irritated.

“You can’t be serious?” He waits but she offers no response. She only lifts her nose at him. “That is not taking time for yourself. That’s preparing to help someone else.”

Her nostrils flare as she abruptly snaps her books shut. She shoves it into her bag before swinging it over her shoulder. She steps towards George. She suddenly realizes how tall he is. She gulps before placing a hand on her hip and pointing a finger at him.

“Listen here, helping other people is a very noble thing and if I wish to spend my free time doing that, I should not have to explain myself.”

“Ah, so you admit that you spend your free time helping other people rather than doing something for yourself?”

George smirks at her and she wants to slap it off his stupid pretty face.

“Wha-? No.” She huffs. “I don’t know why I’m arguing this with someone I hardly know but what I mean to say is that yes, it’s demanding and tedious but it’s also rewarding and the most gratifying thing I could ever do, so I believe I am doing something for myself. You just don’t get it because you spend all your time playing stupid pranks on everyone.” She snaps before pulling the strap of her bag further onto her shoulder and walking away. Normally she would feel bad for saying something like that to someone but for some reason she felt George could take it.

“So when will I see you again?” George shouts down the hall.

“I have to go!” She shouts back.

“I’ll see you in class then. Or maybe in the halls again.” He continues.

“Goodbye!” She turns the corner and speeds as far away from George as possible, steam practically fuming from her ears.

———

“Hey (y/n) could I just copy your homework before class? I didn’t have time to do it what with quidditch practice and all.” Asks Angelina.

(Y/n) nods and pulls out her answers, stands and walks to her seat, passing them to her. As (y/n) walks back she sees George slide into the spot next to hers. She grunts before stomping to her seat.

“ ‘Morning.” He sings, kicking his feet on the desk. She rolls her eyes and pushes his feet off, offering no other greeting. Now this is saying something, (y/n) always greets everybody. He laughs a little before turning to his bag and pulling out his textbook.

“Ark, couldn’t you go sit somewhere else?” She asks with a look of disgust.

George shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I could, but I’d like to think we’d make a good team and I’d like to test that theory.” He waves a pointed index as if to emphasize his point.

She shudders at the thought of having to work with him. It’s very likely they will, it often happens in potions class. (Y/n) is at the top of the class and she doubts Snape would have any objection to George working with her since she could easily bring up his grade. She sighs as Snape walks in and starts the lecture portion of the class.

“You will have the remaining hour to make your hiccoughing solution. Work with the person next to you.” With a wave of his arms everyone starts opening their textbook and discussing the potion.

To her surprise, George is really good at potions. Logically it makes sense because him and Fred are always creating new things but she never really thought it transferable to school. She watches, a little stunned as George quickly and skillfully goes through the steps of the potion. For the first time since she can last remember, she sits back instead of running the group. George occasionally asks her to cut something or extract oil from a root. She doesn’t argue, it’s sort of nice being told what to do rather than making all the decisions. She doesn’t tell him and refuses to think more of it because that’s not her proper role. She’s the leader, she’s the helper. Maybe this once she’ll let it slide, give herself a break.

Once the bell rings they gather their books and George finally speaks of other things than the potion.

“Relaxing isn’t it?” She tilts her head in confusion. “Not having to take care of others for once.” He continues.

Oh no he didn’t. He just ruined it. He took her small guilty moment of peace and crushed it. “You hardly let me do anything! What was I supposed to do? Fight you?”

George shrugs. “You could’ve.” He winks at her and she lets out an angry moan.

“Ark!” She turns on her heels and walks out of the class without another word.

“Same time next week?” She hears him shout but she’s already in the hallway and simply ignores him.

———

“You know you could give that to a house-elf and they could take care of that for you.” Says George as he leans into the door frame and watches (y/n) clean the chalkboard in the defence against the dark arts classroom.

“Well I don’t need to be taken care of, I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own thank you very much” she spits back at him.

George and her are acquaintances at best. It’s been a month since they’ve first spoken to each other. Since then he seems to always be around her. Sitting next to her in class, offering to help her with her books in the hall. She’s never asked for him to be there or to share his opinion. Yet he’s there and very verbal about his thoughts.

He steps into the class and sits in the front row. He bounces his leg under the desk and leans back into the chair. He looks nervous but she can tell he’s trying to cover it up.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Waiting for Umbridge.” He points up the stairs at the closed door of her office. “I got detention.” He adds.

“What did you do?” She stops cleaning the board and sets the cleaning potion on the desk next to George.

“Gave a ton tongue toffee to Filch. His tongue was four feet long when Umbridge found him.” He chuckles to himself, remembering Umbridge’s reaction.

For the first time ever, (y/n) laughs in front of George. She tries to hold it in but it slips past her. George first looks surprised but soon he’s laughing with her.

“Glad to see someone is standing up to them.” She shakes her head. “Umbridge really is a horrible person. I can't believe all the mean things she’s doing to the students.” Her face is sad. George can see how much she cares for the other students.

“Well, would you look at that? We actually agree on something.” He crosses his arms and smirks at her. “Does this mean we're friends?” He asks.

She barks out a loud laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Weasley.” She grabs her bag and walks out without another word. She can feel George’s gaze following her until she steps into the hall and out of sight. She wonders why her cheeks feel so hot suddenly.

———

(Y/n) is tutoring Seamus Finnigan in the library. They’re whispering over a book when George spots them. He smiles and beelines for their table.

“Mind if I sit here.” He asks, holding onto the chair in front of them. They both look up at him. Seamus smiles and reaches out his hand for a fist bump. (Y/n) rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out.

“Yeah mate, it’s no problem.” Says Seamus.

“No, you may not. It is very much a problem.” She hisses. Seamus looks at her, shocked by the bitterness in her voice.

“Blimey (y/n), I’ve never heard you so angry before.” He stuns.

She laughs nervously. He’s right, she normally doesn’t talk to people like that. The only exception to the rule is George. She grits her teeth and pastes a smile before looking at George.

“Of course you can sit here George. Any friend of Seamus is a friend of mine.” She somehow manages to sound sweet and somewhat sincere. George raises his eyebrows in surprise. He quickly recollects himself and takes a seat before she changes her mind.

“So, going back to charms. Can you tell me the definition of the substantive charm?” She asks Seamus.

“How long have you been doing this?” George interrupts.

Seamus grabs (y/n)’s arm and reads her watch. He whistles dramatically. “Crickey, it’s been an hour and fifteen minutes. I think we should call it a day.” He grabs his book and bag and gets up. “Thanks again (y/n). See you next week.” And with that, he was off.

(Y/n)’s jaw clenches as she looks from the now empty chair to George.

“Why?” She groans. “Why would you do that?”

“This is great. He got his help and you get a break. What do you say we go down to the dungeon and pull a prank on Malfoy?” He beams at her, pleased with his idea.

She gets the sudden urge to scream. Who does he think he is? Coming into her life and ruining everything. It is quite likely that Seamus won't do as well on the quiz as if he had stayed for the extra fifteen minutes she had planned and now she has to go deal with Hermione who wanted to rant about Ron. Something which she had very much been putting off. She takes a long, deep breath before looking at George again. The urge to scream has faded with the breath but the look on his face makes her see red.

“Could you please, please, find someone else to annoy. I don’t have time for this and you’re really starting to test my patients.” She pleads.

George’s face drops, evidently displeased by her response. He stands from his chair and puts his bag strap over his shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll leave.” He surrenders. There is a pause like he’s debating between leaving or adding another word. To (y/n)’s dissatisfaction, he continues to speak. “Anytime you need someone who doesn’t need help tutoring or homework to copy or healing salve, you know where to find me.”

She laughs loudly making everyone turn to look at her. “Pff yeah okay.” She dismisses, and with that George is turning away and walking out of the library.

She hates the sad feeling that settles in her chest. It’s like it’s telling her she wants him to stay. She rolls her eyes and swears to herself, gathering her things and heading to Hermione’s aid.

No matter how hard she tries not to, she spends the rest of the day thinking about George. His stupid face keeps popping into her head. What does he know? She likes when people ask for help. She is happy being the person people can turn to. She can’t understand what George thinks is wrong with that. Maybe he’s just a horrible person. It’s much easier to tell herself than to think there could be something wrong with her.

———

A week later (y/n) is knocking on Susan Bones’ door and stepping in before hearing a welcome.

“Merlin! I can’t stand him!” She shouts once in her best friend’s dorm room. Susan looks up from her book with her brows knitted.

“Who?” She asks while shutting her book and sitting up.

“George!” She states looking at Susan like she should have known. She shows no sign of further understanding (y/n)’s dilemma.

“Why?” She asks hesitantly. (Y/n) stomps to Susan’s bed and plops onto it.

“First he’s everywhere meddling into my life like it’s his business and now, radio silence.” She adds nothing more, leaving Susan even more confused.

“And that’s a problem because…”

(Y/n) sits up and flails her arms in the air. “Well, why did he make me question myself like that and then just vanish?” She exclaims exasperated.

Susan gapes, further confused. “But, didn’t you ask him to leave you alone?”

“Ark! That’s not the point!” She gets up and stomps out of the room. Susan blinks and looks around the room stunned even though there is no one to share the confusion with.

A moment later (y/n) is back into the room. “What on earth did he mean by if ever you want someone who doesn’t need help, you know where to find me?” She puts her hands on her hips and waits for her friend’s answer. Susan’s eyes light up and she smiles slightly. Now it’s (y/n)’s turn to look confused.

“He said that?” Asks Susan with a hopeful tone.

“Wha- I- Well yes he did but-.” She stops. Susan has left her stunned, she’s too confused to debate.

Susan’s smile grows wider. “Have you heard about Dombledors army?” She asks.

(Y/n) scrunches her nose. “No. What does that have to do with this?”

“Well I think you should come to our next meeting.” Her smile is mischievous, (y/n) hates it.

———-

The next day Susan takes (y/n) to the seventh floor. She stops in the middle of the hall and passes back and forth in front of a stone wall. Soon a door appears in front of them and (y/n) smiles, amazed by the castle's secrets.

Susan is the first to walk in waving at a few people near the door. Once (y/n) follows through the room goes silent. Harry finally walks up to them, hand stretched out.

“Welcome to the army.” He says confidently. She looks to Susan who gives her an encouraging nod. She finally accepts Harry’s hand with a small yet nervous smile.

As she looks around the room she feels a pair of eyes on her. She turns to find George looking at her with a neutral face. She lets out a little screech and turns back to Susan.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to be here!” (Y/n) whispers with a panicked tone.

“Well if I did you wouldn’t have come.” She states simply before walking off to talk with one of the other girls.

“Alright everyone. I think we’ll get started.” Announces Harry. Everyone goes quiet and they quickly form a half-circle around him. She sees a tall man settle next to her in her peripheral. She can just make out a flash of red hair. Her heart starts beating at an unruly pace.

“Today’s focus is on stunning. Nigel and I are going to do a demonstration so watch closely.” Everyone moves to the sides of the room whispering excitedly.

(Y/n) claps her hand over her mouth as she watches Harry fly backwards after being stunned by Nigel. She lets out a relieved sigh when Harry sits back up.

“I’d like to see you do that.” Whispers George into her ear. She jumps a little as his hot breath on her neck sends a shiver down her spine.

She turns to look at him. She has no snarky answer. She just gapes at him in surprise.

“I’d like to see you stand up for yourself for once.” He adds. She huffs in shock.

“I-“ She starts but Harry cuts her off. “Who wants to go next?” He asks.

“(Y/n) and I will go.” Announces George. She freezes as everyone eyes them curiously.

“Maybe someone else would like to go before us.” She tries.

“Nonsense, go on (y/n).” Says Harry enthusiastically. “No one here will judge you.” He adds thinking that’s her concern.

It’s not that she didn’t want to defend herself, it’s just she felt sort of bad stunning someone. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to do it. She walks to one end of the room and George to the other. He stretches out his arm, wand at the ready. She looks at Susan with a pleading look. Susan gives her an impatient nod and (y/n) reluctantly lifts her wand.

Neither of them moves, the room is completely silent. Soon there are whispers in the crowd. George is looking at (y/n) with a challenging eye. She gulps, trying to convince herself to stun him. She thinks that maybe if she does nothing he’ll grow impatient and stun her. That way she wouldn’t have to do it and he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of getting what he really wants.

“Right, any second now. Go ahead.” Says Harry slowly.

Nothing happens. George slumps out of his stans and raises his arms in the air. “Oh c’mon (y/n) stun me!” He exclaims.

She looks at the crowd as they all stare back at her. She suddenly feels weak in the knees. She begins to sweat nervously and looks at Susan. She looks a little concerned, maybe thinking this wasn’t as good an idea as she first thought. She still gives her a weak encouraging smile and a little thumbs up. (Y/n) looks back at George who has his arms stretched out taunting her.

“Oh for once in your life be mean!” He shouts. The words echo in the room.

“I can be plenty mean!” She disputes. “Last week, I ate Susan’s cookie.” She adds, puffing her chest.

George tries to hold back his smile. She hears a couple giggles in the crowd.

“That is not mean.” His tone is adoring and she hates it.

“It was her favourite brand.” She adds trying to make it sound more horrific. She’s the only one in the room with a serious face. Everyone else is smiling enjoying the tense exchange between the two.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “If it’s anything, it’s cute.” He says with a wink. There it is. There’s the final straw. She can feel her blood boil. Everyone holds their breath as they watch her face contort into an angry pout. George smiles wide thinking the pout is possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

She lets out an angry grunt. “It is not cute! You wanna see cute? Watch this.” She flicks her wand and shouts: “Stupify!” The spell sends George across the room. Everyone exclaims as he hits the ground with a thud.

“Excellent! Really good (y/n)!” Exclaims Harry.

Across the room George is whooping. He runs over to her with arms wide open. His smile is contagious, she can’t stop hers from pulling at her cheeks. Laughs spill from her lips as he wraps her tightly into his arms. Fred helps George throw her over their shoulders. Everyone gathers around them and cheers. (Y/n) feels her cheeks go hot suddenly, very aware of George’s hand on her thigh keeping her in place. She looks at everyone’s happy smiles and she can't help but join in. She hates to admit it but George might have been right. Standing up for yourself can feel good.

———

It’s a Wednesday evening. Most people were already back in their common rooms. (Y/n) was walking back from the library, having finished another tutoring session with Zacharias Smith. The halls are practically deserted when she suddenly hears quiet sobs further away. She speeds her pace and turns the corner finally spotting a little boy crying quietly while holding his hand. Two older boys are kneeling next to him. Her breath hitches when she spots him. George hasn’t talked to her since their duel. She would sometimes catch his eye across the classroom or in the dining hall but this is the first time she’s run into him. George is rubbing circles on the boy's upper back as he whispers sweet comforting phrases to the crying boy. As she steps closer she recognizes the boy to be Michael. She has helped him countless times after he has gotten detention from Umbridge.

Looking at George now she questions how she once called him a horrible person. She sighs accepting she might have been too quick to judge. She steps between the Weasleys and kneels down at Micheal’s feet so they're at eye level. She looks through her big bag before pulling out some gauze and a small glass jar of healing salve. Micheal gives her his hand, remembering the drill. She quietly applies the salve and wraps his hand. She listens to George explain to Micheal how soon the pain will subside. She notices he never stops rubbing circles on the boy's back. There’s something reassuring about the movement and she’s not even the one receiving it.

Micheal takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. He looks between George and (y/n) before smiling mischievously.

“Thanks mom, dad.” He tips his head to each before getting up and walking to his dorm. George’s hand stays frozen in the air even if there’s no longer a back to rub. (Y/n) stops screwing the lid to her salve as she looks at the now empty seat. They both jump when Fred starts howling with laughter. His laughs echo down the hall as he doubles over himself, holding his aching stomach. He wipes at his eyes and sighs loudly.

“Good one kid.” He shouts though Michael is much too far to hear it. “Ah! That’s golden.” He adds before he walks off in the same direction as Micheal did before.

George and (y/n) remain frozen. (Y/n)’s face is pale and George's cheeks are tomato red. (Y/n) is the first to move, she finishes screwing on the lid and shoving it into her bag. She’s in a hurry to get out of this very awkward situation. She shoots a look at George who moved from the floor and onto the bench. He’s leaning back onto the wall with his arms crossed. He smirks when she meets his eyes.

“We would have some cute kids.” His tone is teasing but there’s still something soft and affectionate in the statement.

“Oh honestly George, get a grip.” She rolls her eyes and walks away quickly. It takes all her willpower to hold in her smile until her back is turned to George. He’s not wrong she thinks to herself.

——-

She knocks lightly on the dorm room door. She can hear George’s loud laugh on the other side. She hopes he won’t be mad at her for interrupting the fun. Lee opens the door and the smile on his face is quickly replaced by a look of surprise.

“(Y/n)?” He stuns. The laughter in the room stops abruptly. She hears shuffling and soon George is peaking his head over Lee’s shoulder.

Lee quickly moves out of the way and George looks at her with a concerned look.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He asks looking around to make sure there is no one else listening.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you were having fun there.” She feels pretty stupid now that she’s actually standing in front of him. George shakes his head vigorously to tell her it’s no problem.

“I just-“ she runs a hand through her hair. “I sort of need someone who doesn’t need help with tutoring or homework or healing salve.” The offer is months old. They haven’t even talked in weeks. She never thought she’d actually take him up on it but she didn’t know who else to turn to.

His shoulders drop and a natural smile spreads across his face. “Well then I’m your guy.” He closes the door behind him and guides her down the stairs and into the common room. It’s late, most students are in bed. George asks the few left if they could give them some privacy and they all retreat to their rooms.

“What’s up?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

She sighs and walks over to the big red couch. She sits down and buries her head into her hands. “I- I’m so tired George.” Her voice is laced with despair. “There’s just so much to do and I’m trying, I really am but I just don't know if I have it in me.”

George sits next to her, so close that their knees touch. “What are all the things you need to do?” He asks softly.

“I have to run the potions club and make that banner for the Ancient Runes Club. I have to tutor Hannah and Seamus and Zacharias and so many other people. I have to make sure Lavender is okay and that Luna found her socks. I have to listen to Hermione and Ginny talk about their boy problems and then give them advice. I have to write back to my parents and help them with their problems. I have to help McGonagall with the rat problem because no one else wants to. Madame Pomfrey said I could intern with her but that means I have to spend ten hours a week in the hospital wing. I told professor Sprout I’d help her extract pus from Bubotuber. I promised Colin I would look out for Dennis and I haven't even seen him in weeks.” It all spills out. For the first time ever she is totally transparent about her problems. “And then I have to worry about my own studies and try and keep my grades up and there’s the stress of Dumbledore’s army, what if we get caught?” She’s panting by the end suddenly feeling much lighter.

“Well maybe you could say no to a couple people. I’m sure the Ancient Runes Club can wait for a sign, Mcgonagall can take care of the rats on her own. You can say no you know.” He places a hand on her thigh and looks deep into her eyes.

“But- I can’t George! I can't say no. Those people are counting on me. What if the clubs fall apart or Seamus’ grades drop or Luna never finds her socks.” Her face is panicked.

“Let me help you.” He says it so softly. She feels a dry lump in her throat. Her jaw suddenly hurts and she feels tears well up in her eyes.

“I don’t want your help George!” She jumps off the couch and onto her feet. George’s hand slips off her thigh and onto the couch. It looks limp and sad without her leg to hold it. “I don’t need you, I was doing perfectly fine before you came around and I’ll be fine without you moving forward.” There’s a pause. “ I didn’t come here for you to save the day.” There it is. She doesn’t want to appear weak. She thinks asking for help makes her weak.

George stands up, towering over her. “Fine. If that’s how you feel then I’ll leave. I will go for good and you won’t have to worry about me meddling in your life anymore. I just want you to know that I’m offering to help because I can see how hard this is for you and I think you deserve more than what you’ve granted yourself.” George steps forward closing the gap. “I think you deserve to be taken care of for a change.” They’re inches away from each other. His face suddenly turns soft as he looks into her tear-filled eyes.

There’s a silent pause. She looks into George’s eyes and she sees the honesty, the care, the love. George is there for her when no one else is. He’s right, she is having a hard time and he’s the one offering the help. No one else. All the other people she has sworn would help her, be there for her, aren’t there. But how could they have known? She never tells them how hard it is, always caring for others. She never asks for their help. It’s not that those people don’t care. She just never opens up to them. She never permits them to be anything else than people she could help. All she ever did was give and give. She never believed she should do anything else. George is the first person who wants her to take, not give. It finally clicks. Everything that George has been trying to make her see is crystal clear now.

A tear spills from down her cheek and she feels her knees go weak. She cups her hand over her mouth trying to hold in a sob. She takes a step back shaking her head in denial. George’s face remains soft but there’s concern in his eyes.

“Hey.” He tilts his head, maintaining eye contact as she tries to look away. “It’s okay.” He pulls her towards his chest and she welcomes it. She falls into his arms as more tears fall down her cheeks. “Let it out.” He says.

With that permission (y/n) cries. She cries like never before. Loud sobs slip from her lips as her body shakes in George’s arms. She cries about all the sad secrets people have confided in her. She cries for all the days she sacrificed for others. She cries for all the “I love that you never say no”. She cries for all the grades she sacrificed to keep others high. She lets out years of pent-up tears, of hurt.

He rubs small circles on her upper back and remains quiet. She was right, there relay is something reassuring about those little circles. She cries for an hour and George never moves, never speaks, never stops her.

Finally, she sniffles her last tear and steps out of George’s arms. He reluctantly lets her go but takes her hand in his. She pulls it away to wipe at her eyes.

“Thank you.” Her voice is so delicate she would be embarrassed if it weren’t George in front of her. She laughs suddenly and George looks shocked. She soon starts crying of laughter and George gapes unsure of what to do.

“Are you okay?” He asks confused.

“I just, I hate you.” She laughs again. George looks stunned. He takes a step away from her and opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off.

“Or so I thought. You have bugged me every day for months yet there’s no one I want here more than you.” George takes a tentative step forward. The words seem to give him confidence. “As crazy as it sounds I’ve had some of the best times talking with you because I actually said what I wanted to say. You can handle me better than anyone else. You challenge me in a way that I absolutely hate but I know why you’re doing it. You’re helping me learn to take care of myself and that’s hard because it’s something I’ve never done before.” She stops for a moment. The look in her eyes changes. First, there’s shock as she realizes. Then there’s a soft and happy glow. “I think I’m falling in love with you George.” She gasps. It’s almost a whisper. She barely wants to admit it.

“Come here.” Is all he says. She doesn’t move. Her brows knit themselves as she searches his face for an explanation. She takes a deep breath. The step towards him feels like a trust fall. He gently pulls her closer by the waist. He presses his forehead to hers. (Y/n) pushes her nose to his, bringing their lips closer to one another. He repeats the movement.

They tease each other a couple more times before George whispers “Can I kiss you?” She nods slowly and whispers a yes. He tips his head so their lips connect. His soft lips send sparks down her spine. George wraps an arm up to her back and pulls her closer quickly deepening the kiss. She wraps her arms around his next and soon her hands tangle into his fiery red hair. It feels like rain after a dry summer, like the cold side of her pillow, like the warm fire after coming in from the cold, it feels like heaven. Nothing has ever felt more right than their lips pressed together and for once, she’s giving in to what she wants.

When George pulls away she finds herself chasing his lips. She pouts a little missing the kiss. George runs a hand over her hair and looks at her adoringly.

“I’m falling for you too (y/n)”