#i felt i at least owed the people who have sent me asks an explanation skmdfmksd

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt. 6]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(what if mc's Cinderella night just-- had to be ruined?)

(not really filler chapter anymore shits getting real‼️‼️/angst/not proofread/injuries/mc will be happy again soon I promise TT-TT/very, very light swearing)

(requested tags!: @chxrry-blxssxm-tea @missotaku34 @aprityormarj )

if you want to be tagged in future chapters please comment or message me! I will only tag you if you directly ask for it and I will only tag you once unless you asked to be tagged on all future chapters of a particular series. now let's wrap this up and head straight into part 6!!)

the ball: the clock strikes 12

(follow the white rabbit)

your breath hitched as the head the body that held you then started to scramble back from the embrace yet held your shoulders in their hands. those green eyes, those fangs, the horns, the outfit that correlated to the dorm of a powerful fae. yeah, as you feared.. it was Malleus.

"oh how I've missed you my dear.." Malleus's mouth widened into a relieved and joyous smile, his fangs out and all and his eyes full of adoration. "you have no idea how bad it's been for me, for all of us since you left us.." he let out a small sigh before he brought you in for another hug, squeezing you a little tighter this time but knew to be careful of his strength.

"Malleus.. stop it--" you attempted to push him off with your arms on his chest yet he wouldn't budge. You continued to squirm under his arms to part from him and when you finally were able to push him off all you could see were his eyes widening in heartbreak "fuck Malleus.. I said stop it!"

"I..." he took in a deep yet shaky breath "why did you leave..? I've dreamt about you since the day you left, why would you go?.." he then held your hand in his, trying to get some sort of answer from you. "I mean I understand why you'd go but.. why not at least bid all of us.. bid me a farewell my dear?" you could see his face slowly get desperate as his vibrant green eyes got misty with the longer he looked at you "if you come back my dear I promise no one will ever hurt you again, I will always listen to you, I'll take care of you-- I'll do everything you need or want just-- please come back to me."

"then you clearly don't understand well enough as to why I left." your face subconsciously formed a scowl "I am not obliged to say goodbye to you or anyone else at that school, not when you all just kept dragging me in the mud whenever you all felt like it." you scoffed "I can admit that I have missed you all, I've missed all our good moments and trips but I can't forgive any of you for breaking my arm or cutting me or--or scarring me in more ways than one" you could feel your voice slowly raise in volume.. little by little. "I do not owe any of you an explanation as to why I left, I don't owe any of you an apology for doing what's right for me."

Malleus stared at you as you kept on talking, his mixed feelings swirling on his face, his features contorting into phases of emotions that you have never seen before. It could've been almost terrifying to look at but the thing was that-- you weren't scared, not anymore. you had more people, better people, people who never forced you into chores or missions you didn't want to do, people who didn't dump everything on you without first asking you, people that actually fucking cared about your feelings.

Malleus cared, oh he did and obviously still does. It's just he's never cared enough the way your new friends do, he never truly has.

"I don't owe you an explanation as to why I left Malleus since it's clearly obvious- that even a blind man can see it-- that I'm better off here." you stared him down in a way that sent him chills down his spine, in a way that made him feel small instead of vice versa. "I'm closer in finding a way home than I ever have at Night Raven where I wasted months of my life for people that just liked dragging a magicless human to feed their own little and fragile egos. and if you can't except that I'm better off here and better off at finally going home then you clearly have not learned anything from your overblot."

oh how you, a magicless human prefect, astounded the fae prince of briar valley. you may not have power in magic but hell did you have power in words. whether you yourself thought your sentences were powerful or not either way it astounded Malleus since it seems he's gotten used to the quiet and almost obedient version of you. his features were almost unreadable, it was unclear if he was even angry or upset. the hair on your body raised up when you sensed a few distant thunderclaps in the background and the sound of a few stems of sharp thorns grow and reach out from the floor and beneath his feet. in the end all Malleus really did with that blank expression of his was reach out to you but you flinched away from his touch.

"you look stunning tonight my dear, shining brighter than any star in the sky." his soft comment was almost random and out of place, but he seemed genuine when he spoke with that true yet strained smile on his face. he slowly pulled his hand away when the stoned room you two were in started to be filled with various large stems of every size and shape, littered with the sharpest thorns you could think of. the stems popped out from cracks in the wall, the window from the ceiling, to even more below his shoes. as they moved the thorn decorated branches all seemed to reach out to you as you backed away slowly. all this whilst he sang a gentle tune under all the ensuing chaos..

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream..”

“I know you that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam..”

"tsunotarou-- " you quietly begged as you continued to back away until you felt many sharp pricks on your ankles which caused you to scream and fall down to land on your rear end in pain. Malleus had to immediately cut short the tune he sang as he desperately reached out to you with a panicked look when he saw you fall but kept himself from moving any further since it seems that all he ever does to you is hurt you, even when he doesn't mean it.

also because a curious, rabbit-chasing blonde already ran to your aid.

"_____! hold on I got you!!" Alex exclaimed as he picked you up, one arm behind your back and the other under your legs. The room quivered and the stems of thorns grew into bushes, slowly reaching out for Alex's legs as well. You looked over to face Malleus who is seen clenching his chest with fistfuls of his uniform, as if he's clenching his heart.

Tsunotarou looked at you with pain and concern with quiet tears rolling down his face from seeing how he just-- keeps hurting you. Even so, he lets you go.

Luckily Alex was fast enough to jump over the growing thorns to then quickly exclaim a spell you couldn't exactly hear well with how the rumbling and stones from the ceiling started caving in.

your last view of Malleus was his sad and pitiful face before the stones started piling up and covering eachothers views. officially ending this short yet aching encounter.

Alex ran headfirst into the wall where you first came from. once you two were now on the outside of the entrance you were both hit with cold and harsh raindrops from the sky. Alex continued to run and run as far away from the collapsing structure as possible, the tower being wrapped and hugged tightly by many large stems and branches of thorns and the roof of the tower now halfway caving inside the building. Alex huffed and puffed as he dodged a few rocks of the tumbling rubble from the building before dropping down to his knees to use the wet grounds to slide against the back exit of the school dance, not entirely protected by anything but a small roof that hovered over the back door but it was much farther away from any falling debris and awful rain. as the tower continued to roar in destruction Alex basically used himself as a shield as an attempt to cover you completely, holding you close to his chest and covering your head under his chin so if anything attempted to hit your head it'd hit his instead. he held you tightly until everything went quiet and all you could hear was just a few rolling rocks.

Alex slowly turned to look behind him with you following suite. as the dust slowly started to settle and the rain just getting more violent as time went you could see that the building was on the verge of completely collapsing, there were no longer any walls up with only the many and bushes of thorns holding onto the halfway collapsed ceiling and the rest of it's stone body. there were many stones of all sizes that held up the building now on the grass floor or stone path now ruining the recently polished or beautified lawns and floors.

Alex was panting and catching his breath before he finally faced you with a very exhausted look on his face and sweat and rain dripping under his chin, the adrenaline rush slowly sinking down now that everything is somewhat quiet except for the voices of afraid or shocked students running out from all openings of the ballroom to see the scene. "are you alright?.." he asked.

you nodded while also slowly coming out of the adrenaline high. "sorta.." you paused to catch your breath "how'd you know.. that I was there?.."

he lightly shrugged as he then slowly forced himself to get back into a normal breathing pace. "I noticed that the magic you were following felt-- more sentient than it seemed at first glance..." he slowly let you down on the ground gently whilst explaining to let his body rest "when you went through the wall-- I had only gotten more- curiouser.. and eventually walked in a bit after you but I hid in the shadows." he paused to finally get himself to breathe properly, his body shaking now that the energy high was now at it's last drop. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop I really didn't but-- I felt that if I left that something terrible would've happened. I guess it's good that I stayed, plus!..." he let out a light chuckle "the bathrooms are inside the ballroom, opposite side from the back exit so-- "

you let out a breathy 'hah' as a way to still laugh with him despite the lack of energy. your ankles were stinging and pulsing with blood that was coming out from small holes decorating your skin. Alex noticed how much blood was dripping from your skin to the ground and he prepared his body to pick you back up the same way he did before. and as if on cue right when he properly held you close the chime of a large clock rang against your ears as a way to announce that it has now struck twelve. you felt your now tattered, drenched, and dirty attire now fade off of your body and back into your previous outfit. same happened with Alex with his attire shining and poofing off of him to show his school uniform yet despite these sudden outfit changes Alex immediately started walking to get you help from anyone nearby. all the students that jumped and ran out to see the commotion all gasped. some stood in shock, some were asking for both of you and Alex's physical health, and some were even offering help. Alex would accept the help but would immediately ask for anyone to get Raps over here so that he can heal you with his unique magic. The rest of whatever was happening around you slowly got a bit blurry since as you laid in the arms of the young man you slowly felt your eyes slowly close, not because of bloodloss or any of the sort, but because everything you felt in those fast and short moments just emotionally and mentally tired you out, you were feeling incredibly exhausted after the shock and adrenaline finally now had it's run on your system and you couldn't help but feel safe enough to fall asleep in the warm arms of your friend.

when you let yourself fall asleep, all you dreamt about was sleeping back in your home world while laying in the softest covers you owned. the covers in your dream were so warm and cozy as if they just came out of the dryer. you heard distant yet familiar voices of family members in the background outside of the room you were sleeping in and the soft orange light from the outside peaked into your room while gently kissing your sleeping face. the air was filled in that specific smell your home always had. your bed and covers smell just the way you remember them, your room looks exactly the way you left it and the pillow under your head seemed to hug and warm you back to sleep.

for a moment you felt that you really were back home.

Back in Night Raven College......

Malleus teleported back to the school, Lilia awaiting him inside the Diasomnia dorm after accompanying him to RSA awhile ago. Sebek and Silver beside their father while watching the prince brush past them and ignored them while opening and slamming his room doors shut. There was an eerie silence before the slams and shatters of glass and wood were heard, roaring and shouts of frustration were booming from the creaks of the doors yet boomed throughout the halls as well. The three couldn't do anything but watch, they did everything they could to get Malleus back to himself to even getting him to see the former Ramshackle prefect again. but it seems as if it only made him even more bitter and frustrated. In this moment as a group Lillia, Sebek, and Silver accepted this temporary defeat. they won't give up on the young master, but they have given up in trying to get him back to his former self. now they will attempt to still bring in his favorite things, items, and hobbies-- but they know it wouldn't be the same anymore.

meanwhile the entire rest of the school was in disarray. everyday the students had to use umbrellas or raincoats with the never-ending storm hovering above them constantly, P.E was cancelled for a whole week with how bad it's gotten and the people you left behind mostly all have a sour attitude towards the mention of you. Heartslayul, Pomefiore, and Octavinelle students were pushed on harder than they were before, the dorm leaders of those particular students basically almost, just almost going back to their former ways. they still try to keep the lessons they learned from you and their overblots but their pettiness and the grudge they now hold against you holds them back from their true good potential. Savannaclaw, Scarabia, and Ignihyde were unique cases in it of themselves. Savannaclaw's dorm leader continued to try to stay on top of his responsibilities somewhat but due to your absence it's like he's neglecting the dorm even more than he ever used to. Scarabia's dorm leader was still generous and kind as usual, maybe even more! he held you close to his heart and continued to do good and more in your memory. Ignihyde's dorm leader.. basically neglected his position fully, he's almost on the verge of falling out of the title of house leader of Ignihyde yet his younger brother continued to be his shining and motivational light to even keep this stupid title. then of course, the dorm leader of Diasomnia, not fully neglecting his responsibilities but it's clear how much he's missed out due to his constant naps to fade away into a world with you in it.

people tried to fix all the issues that have smacked the school into rock bottom but no matter what their efforts are always fruitless. some students think they can keep on going without you, that you aren't needed to keep the school running again.. while others think that the only way to revive this place is if you're back in it.

(hopefully everything here made sense! I'm not the best at describing dramatic ongoing environments so I hope it all was understandable somewhat. thank you all for the excitement towards this part! I hope to excite you all with this series even more with the stuff I have in mind for future chapters.

also this is kinda random but I also draw too! and just for the funzies I may or may not draw my version of mc’s RSA friends that don’t have an official design. maybe tho.. depends on motivation..)

[brick-a-doodle-do]

Please just give me anything from your tiny workers au!! Literally anything and I will absolutely cherish it :D

*ahem*

would you like the first chapter? would you cherish that?

(also fuck scheduling, have it now. >:D its not proofread tho fyi)

tiny workers (i)

words: 4069

cw: vague description of depression, swearing

—–—

Knocking wakes him up. Loud and repetitive knocking. 

Wilbur blinks, trying to adjust to the golden sun that filters through his blinds, even as closed as they are. 

The knocking still hasn’t stopped. His nerves flare up at the continuous noise and he sits up, blinking a few more times to adjust to being awake before he finds his way out of bed. The hardwood under his floor has never felt more neutral, which makes him unusually aware of the surrounding air that feels so invisible that it’s suffocating.

Knocking.

He tries to ignore it and leaves his room, traces the length of the hallway and continues the beeline to the door, where he can faintly hear  a muffled conversation from behind.

Wilbur stops, standing at the front door. Through the agitating knocking sound, he holds his head in his hands for a moment before swiping his hands through his bed-ruined hair.

“Wil, mate!” Phil says, loud and clear through the door. Wilbur groans.

Quietly, he listens as Phil murmurs something to Techno, who in return whispers an ingenuine apology.

Right there, he considers walking away. They can’t knock forever.

But, his conscience figures he owes it to his family to at least make an effort. And so, taking the cool doorknob in his hand, he opens the door and puts on a fake, strained smile. “Yes?” 

“Good mornin’,” Techno butts in before Phil can. Wilbur raises his eyebrows at him tiredly.

“D’ya mind if we come in, Wil? We have something for you,” Phil explains, and Wilbur tries to find the courage to decline. And despite how much he told himself to promptly shut the door on his father and brother’s face, he found himself instead nodding along. 

“Yeah, go for it,” Wilbur agrees and steps aside.

Phil leads, brushing past him, where Techno lingers in the doorway for a moment. “I’ll admit, he’s stretchin’ this a little bit,” Techno warns, and before Wilbur can question what he meant, his vision is obscured as Techno walks past him. 

He shuts the door and settles in on an armchair, which sits across from the couch Phil and Techno have found a seat on.

“Are you here for what I think you’re here for?” Wilbur asks, an explanation hung between them.

“It depends on what you’re thinking, Wil,” Phil hums, laughing to try and break the tension. It doesn’t work, and in the end it’s only him finding amusement. His father sighs. “We don’t care about you not replying to us, or making an effort to be social, we just care about you actually getting outside,” Phil starts, glancing at Techno, whose  expression is nothing but curious at Phil’s particular wording, “so, see, we found something.” 

He can’t say he enjoys the sound of that, and especially not as Phil pulls his phone out and taps at his screen, only to hand it to Wilbur. A long article catches his vision as he’s handed the phone. “Here ya’ go,” his fathers says, trying his best to  smile.

Wilbur stares, face wooden as his finger slowly scrolls down his father’s phone.

Impending outlines of familiar figures and silenced commotion of bated breath keeps his flat quiet.

His eyes are hung heavy as he scrolls, skimming impatiently through the articles’ pre-advertisements. Something unintelligible of promised family fun and worthy relaxation flies past his eyes until he finally reaches it, an overdue title with a cheesy caption.

COLONY PARKS

“Tiny adventures await! Explore small worlds of wonder with tiny people, big fun!”

Wilbur squints at the screen, his doomful eyes blending in with his uncertain frown. “An amusement park? Are you fucking— fucking come again?” he scoffs. He had to ask; lingering in the back of his mind is hope that he isn’t sent to this hellhole.

His father lets out a sad sigh. “It’s for a few hours, Wil, that’s nothing compared to the things we could do.”

Handing the phone back, he shakes his head. “I think anything could be better than this. I thought your goal was to get me out of the house to have a good time. This is just—fucking childish!”

“I think one could pretty easily argue that you’re being childish right now,” Techno remarks. Phil elbows him, but Wilbur see’s the way he struggles to keep a smile down. “Heh? You know I’m right, but excuse me for putting a mark on your ‘good-parent’ facade.”

Phil stares at Techno, struggling down a smile. Wilbur shrinks into himself.

Eventually, Phil sighs. “He’s right,” Phil starts, and he watches as Techno smiles, “Wil, you gotta give it a try. One shot. If you don’t like it you know we won’t force you into it and we’ll find something better for you,” he finishes, and Wilbur solemnly nods. He knows better than to pick a fight with his father or Techno.

“Fine,” he murmurs. 

–

When a day had passed after the conversation, Wilbur couldn’t say the passing time with the absence of people had let him think, because he honestly had to answer and say he had continued with his musty routine. The only thing different was he was wallowing with slight agitation with his father. 

The sudden announcement had been a spring that he wasn’t exactly ready to release. He’d much prefer to ease into a “recovery”, but he can’t get everything he wants.

And now, with his phone vibrating loudly under his hand, he found his sore eyes opening, unadjusted to the sunlight that strung into his room, the sun high in the sky. He’d nearly drifted off again when his phone disturbed him. 

He pulled himself up, propping his upper body up with his arm and unlocking his phone. Rushing notifications from Techno continuously layered until he had the decency to open them. 

A long string of “urgent” messages. 

From what he could gather with his five-hours-of-sleep brain, Techno was parked outside. 

Begrudgingly, he tapped at Techno’s contact until the phone was ringing. Techno picked up immediately.

“You wakin’ up at twelve now?” Techno asks. 

Wilbur sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, what little energy he has murmuring out a quiet response. “Techno what are you doing downstairs?”

“I recall Phil ‘n you coming to an agreement with the theme park.”

Wilbur groans. “Now? Today? He never told me that,” Wilbur complains. Groggily, he pulls himself up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. The air is uncomfortably warm, but somehow the feeling of the heavy blanket over him still felt lovely.

“I’m only waitin’ ten more minutes before I go up ‘n get you myself, just so you know, Will-I-am,” Techno says.

“I’ll be down.”

And he was, with a fresh set of clothes and tamed hair, more than anything he’d been able to put together the past few days. He tried not to pay attention to how gross he felt, considering the greasy streaks of hair he felt just by trying to make it look presentable. 

And his laundry was growing scarce, it was only a matter of time before he’d start rewearing things from his pile of filth in the corner.

Never mind that, though, he had one free day of being outdoors where everything was covered for him. But the thought of it still made him feel unnerved. Alone in an unfamiliar place that was probably packed with people. He’d heard of the place, probably one too many times over the years.

It was unconventional for Phil to think he would come out of his shell there of all places.

But, he did, and Techno was there, already walking around his car to seemingly come and find him. “That took you so long,” Techno murmured, turning back around at the sight of Wilbur. The brunet hummed in response, trying to sound amused. He got in the car, feeling out of place in such a tidy and unusually vibrant place. But he’d been in Techno’s car year after year, so he couldn’t say it didn’t feel familiar. 

Techno drove off quickly without a word, and Wilbur buckled his seatbelt in and slumped against the window. “How far is it?” he asks on a whim.

“Nothin’ convenient,” Techno mutters, glancing at the GPS on his phone. “But it can’t be longer than two hours,” he quickly reassures.

Wilbur groans. “He wants me to be happy but can’t pick a convenient place for me to be happy at.”

“At least he’s trying,” Techno quickly butts in. “Not a lot of parents do that, bad parents ‘n all. That’s why there’s a lot of orphans.”

“I don’t think that’s what orphan means, Techno,” Wilbur muses.

“Don’t avoid the topic. And orphan can mean what I want it to mean ‘cause I’m the one killin’ them.”

“I’m not fuc—that’s still not how it works!” Wilbur argues, smiling ever-so-slightly. 

It was like that the rest of the ride, brotherly banter between them while Techno still tried to drill into his head that Phil meant good. And Wilbur considered it, which was pointless because he knows Techno is right.

He watched as the time on the GPS went down slowly, until eventually it announced that they’d arrived. Which wasn’t entirely true, because even as Techno made a right-hand turn, down onto the path with a road sign announcing the park in big black letters: “COLONY PARKS”. A thick arrow pointed right, down the road that they were currently pulling onto.

 In the distance, Wilbur spotted an overhead bridge with a big overhanging sign that decorates the entire side of said bridge. A dull brown background, the name of the park in what he recognizes as oversized shoelaces, suitably on-brand. 

There’s strands of large, fake grass that obscures some of the words, and other giant versions of everyday things: buttons, bugs, probably other things had he been paying attention. It was interesting how all-out they went, but it didn’t excuse the fact that he wanted no part in this.

Fucking Phil and his need for him to be fine.

From that point forward, the scenery had changed drastically—there were towering blades of glass that gave the intended shrunken effect (where, if he was being honest, it made his mood lighten a bit). Certain sculptures of oversized shoes or again, bugs and old trinkets of the “nearby humans” lay in the “fields of grass”. He could certainly see the appeal, speaking for the children he knows passing by this very place with a much more exasperated and fulfilled face, while his dull and unamused; trying to hide how eager he was to look at the detail in everything.

“Honestly, I can see why you don’t wanna go here,” Techno chimes in after a moment, himself looking around at the scenery. 

“Don’t say that unless you’re turning us around,” Wilbur deadpans. When Techno huffs, he shrinks deeper into the seat and tightens his arms around his torso.

(*)

“Woah—fucking shit!” Tubbo chants from afar, where Tommy can just barely hear him over the gust of air as a golf ball flies past him, narrowly missing his body. He thought he had that.

The human above him chuckles, and Tommy holds back a rant with a sour “I’ll fucking sue you”. 

“Yeah, yeah,” the human murmurs, walking past him with ease to the next hole.

Tommy stays put, looking back at Tubbo, who’s sitting in the crevice of one of the fake rocks. “I’ve lost my pep, Tubbo,” he starts, and Tubbo’s already giving him a knowing look, but Tommy continues, “I’ll steal you a free thing—just please cover for me, my lungs are dying and I think if this person fuckin’ taunts me one more time I’ll probably get fired.”

Tubbo hums and shuffles up from his spot on the ledge. “I got you, bossman. Cut yourself off, or whatever. Go take a break,” he agrees. 

Tommy’s offer slipped through Tubbo’s finger and he hurried off before he could remember. He bids a ‘thank you’ and speeds across the fake grass of the course, following along the left-hand side of the previous hole then hoisting over the low bricks that line the sides. 

As he lands in the dirt, Tommy slows his pace and basks in his unofficial break.

He approaches the small hut for mini-golf booking, where Karl was leant against the counter with his phone in front of him. Lucky bastard, getting to use a phone with such ease.

Briefly, the worker noticed the tiny and Tommy nodded at him solemnly, and Karl offered a small smile and returned to the device.

Tommy ignores his jealousy (and his impulsive desire to steal it) and carries on, ducking under the tiny-worker entrance and slumping his shoulders as a gust of air-conditioned room hits him instantly.. 

Quiet feedback from his earpiece-turned-radio breaks the quiet silence, and Karl looks down at him. Tommy in return pauses, looking up at him. 

There’s only a beat of passing silence before Karl chimes in with, “Hey, Tommy.”

“Hi Karl,” Tommy greets, wavering his previous path to cut across the floor; closer to the human. “You giving me a boost up? All the newcomers that are gonna have their mind fuckin’ blown when they come in here,” Tommy grins, “You know I just gotta see that.”

“Why should I help you?” Karl asks, and Tommy scowls at the question. “Will you put in a good word for me?”

“Oi! Come on Karl, don’t be a dick,” he yells up, scoffing.

Karl stares down at him, hand cupping his chin.

Fuck this. “Fine, dickhead. Who to, fuckin’ Big Q again?”

“Actually–yeah.”

Tommy makes a gagging noise, shaking his head. “You fucking romantic,” Tommy jokes—though he can’t say there wasn’t sincerity to it; he never saw the appeal of romance. But, the longer Karl stares at him with an expression even Tommy can quite literally not say no to, he shrugs. “I’ll try again, then, but I won’t accept assholery against me when he rejects you. Again.”

Karl nods, satisfied, then crouches down with his hand extended. With practised ease, Tommy steps on and adjusts his footing. 

The human stands, and Tommy watches greedily as a view of the opening-hour crowds start fumbling in. Amusingly enough, Tommy also has a view of the human he was up against earlier. 

He steps off of Karl’s hand and rushes across the counter. Karl returns to his phone, and Tommy takes a seat near the edge closest to the crowd.

There are the usual: families of three or four with giddy smiles as they ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ at the decor as they try to ignore the inconvenient rush of people, and the couples that look too happy to be there. There’re grandparents with their kids, large groups of teenagers and large groups of adults, kids—everything. 

But, one person in particular stands out to Tommy. There’s no kid clung to his side or running off, not a partner at his shoulder. He doesn’t look particularly invested; his shoulders are shrunk in on himself and his lanky torso, and frankly Tommy can’t say anyone has stood out quite like that in such an unordinary way. 

Usually, the people who catch his attention are those with colourful clothes or boisterous voices and laughter. This guy is making himself small, and he looks quiet at best. It’s funny—someone so tall and dull couldn’t blend in with a familial crowd, but he attempted it anyway, and it was amusing to watch. Simple as that.

(*)

Kill him. Right here, right now, kill him. 

Phil’s interpretation of fun and relaxation is still puzzling to him, because as eager people run from every direction and pay no mind as they brush against his still form, it doesn’t feel relaxing. He can only imagine the park stretching out for miles, and he can’t say that trudging any deeper would make this jungle of people any more coherent.

So, he looks to his left and makes a beeline over to the least crowded place he can find.

He goes sideways against the crowd, keeping his eyes narrowed to try and keep his vision straight ahead. He stumbles as he catches himself before he trips over a stroller, and just manages to find his footing on the path leading up to the attraction. 

It’s a simplistic design, holding nothing special against the initial drive up, with towering flowers that cast a shadow over some areas, fake rocks that seem to fit in like pebbles against the flowers. 

Wilbur takes a habitual look around, noticing the layout of a golf course. 

Lucky find, he muses.

The path cuts short and opens to a wider area, where a wooden (yet somehow still posh-looking) stand is built. Behind the counter, a worker who couldn’t have been older than twenty five was scrolling idly through his phone. As Wilbur approaches awkwardly, he seems to catch the worker’s attention. He looks up, flashing a genuine smile as he sets his phone down.

“Hello,” Wilbur greets.

“Hey!” The worker greets back, and Wilbur tries to compose himself to talk. “Look, let me be honest with you, I’ve never been here before and I just—I think I need something to pass the time.”

Karl (if his nameplate had a say in it) nods along, looking fairly interested for any theme park worker. “Uh, do you want to try a few rounds on the course?” 

“Yeah, that might be a better start than sitting around,” Wilbur agrees. Out of the corner of his eye, something shifts, but he can’t pay attention to it for long before Karl’s talking to him again.

“Okay, and have you been introduced to the rent-a-tiny feature?”

“Uh—oh, they may have mentioned it. I can’t say I was listening,” Wilbur explains. Karl nods. 

“Oh. Well, newer members get it free,” Karl begins, ducking behind the counter, “but that is specifically for attractions. To take them around the park it would be extra,” Karl pops back up. “And there’s a new-member discount for that as well, usually for if it was paid online. But it’s totally optional!” Karl finishes, finally, and Wilbur takes it in.

“I—my dad set this up, I wouldn’t know what features he got. Again, I wasn’t exactly listening when they read it over.”

The conversation continued, back-and-forth for another five minutes until it was squared away that Phil had opted for the rent-a-tiny feature, which he hadn’t been thrilled to discover. But it was valuable money to Phil, and in one angle it was for a good cause. And so, again, his conscience won.

Karl had fitted him for the club and left him to choose a ball, while the worker set off to find a tiny. It was startling to know he was going to see one, purely because of his uncertainty that he would manage to handle such a small thing—person—whatever. It was unnerving.

And that’s why his heart ran nervously when Karl finally emerged, something wedged between his forefinger and thumb.

A borrower. A real fucking borrower. Wilbur tries to hide his suddenly piqued interest in the being, watching as calmly as possible as the two approached and the borrower was set down onto the counter. He looked irritated, but still put on a fake, flashy smile for customer-him. 

“Hello, you’ve interrupted my break time but I can take a break for you, I saw you over there,” the borrower points to the crowd to Wilbur’s left of them, “and you looked all sad as shit,” the borrower finishes. His voice was so loud, so clear, no stutter in sight and swearing proudly. It was hard not to seem impressed.

“Good luck with him, and have a good game!” 

Wilbur tucks the club under his arm and pockets the golf ball, then stares at the borrower. 

“Uh—” Wilbur’s voice ran dry. Karl had disappeared out of sight, and that left the two standing there. 

“Dy’a want me to walk then, dick?” 

“Ah—no, I can just pick you up?”

“You’re one of those people?” The borrower asks, raising an eyebrow at him in plain frustration. Wilbur feels guilty, but he does feel an underlying irritation of his own. “Look, set your hand down. I won’t bite you,” the borrower instructs. Wilbur obliges reluctantly, slowly approaching his hand to the counter. “And while I’m at it, since you’re a bitch and got me for a day, I’m Tommy. Big T.”

Wilbur rests his hand on the surface and responds “Wilbur”. 

Tommy nods and turns his attention to his transportation, which Wilbur has been focussed on excruciatingly long to keep steady. As tiny skin brushes onto his, Wilbur’s entire body freezes. In that moment, his strength is kept in keeping his hand still. It was also at this contact that Wilbur remembered how touch starved he had been as of lately, with days of laying in bed with nothing but a blanket and his clothes stuck to him. 

And now, there was a borrower climbing into the palm of his hand, settling right in the crevice where his fingers couldn’t help but curl at the touch. 

Wilbur tries to shake away the feeling of contact against his hand and turns away, Tommy kept carefully in his palm. 

“It’s fucking stupid to be scared of something smaller than you, pussy,” Tommy says, looking up at him through Wilbur’s curled fingers. 

Wilbur furrows his brows and looks down in return, shaking his head. “I’m not scared of you, I never implied that,” he argues.

“Uhuh. You seem to be going the wrong way, I recall the first hole being back there,” Tommy says, grinning like he’s already known.

Wilbur turns on his heel and starts off in the right direction. “And you didn’t want to tell me?”

“Well, you don’t seem like the most talkative fella’,” Tommy points out. Wilbur furrows his brows.

He laughs half-heartedly. “That’s fair.”

(*)

So much for a break.

He watches as Tubbo grins at him from the last hole, while he’s sat in a palm at the very first one. Tommy wrinkles his face and flips the other off, who in return follows suit.

Then Tubbo is distracted by the other human, leaving Tommy alone again. 

Might as well be worth it to pry Wilbur out of his shell if their day was going to have any confirmation of a good ending. 

“Alright,” Tommy announces, shuffling up from his spot on Wilbur’s palm and pushing his fingers away. The human obliges, standing scarily still. “How—how uh, how do you want to play?”

“I have no fucking clue what that means,” Wilbur says.

Tommy frowns. “Okay, well, I can help you, or I can, well, not help you—which I’ll be fair, either way ends in me not helping you, unless you're really lucky. And I don’t think you’ll be lucky enough, even though you are a sad, sad guy."

“I’m not sad!”

Tommy stares at him. 

“Okay, whatever, you caught me,” Wilbur says sarcastically. “And do whatever you fucking want, I’m sure I could punt you no matter you’re advantage,” the human says, chortling. Tommy gasps. 

“Fucking try me. Bitch.”

Wilbur hums and crouches down carefully, an irritating slowness to his movements that makes Tommy’s world go by in slow-motion. He’s scrambling for purchase on the fake grass as soon as he knows he can, which happens to instantly trigger a reaction from Wilbur, who’s other hand moves to catch him. 

Tommy lands on more skin, the softness of the landing being both comforting and infuriating. 

“Oi! I can handle myself,” Tommy yells as Wilbur takes the initiative to let him down. “I value my safety, I wouldn't've jumped if I didn’t, dickhead.”

The gentle-ness continued for the remainder of the game. And despite Tommy’s request for a stronger hit, (which he did execute a couple times, until it dispersed into small and lazy hits), he never seemed to take it to heart. 

But, the game did eventually end.

There wasn’t any winner that got to celebrate, it was just a little bit of a lighter mood. Tommy, hesitant as he would be to ever admit it to the human, had taken a liking. It was rewarding to watch a more violent part of him come out the more Tommy kept pushing him.

The rest of the day was ahead of them, and Wilbur had already seemed more eager than he had been to interact with the tiny. 

—–—

EUEUEUEUEUUE IT'S REEEEEEEAAAAAL !!!!!!!!!

[sorcerous-caress]

Hi! No rush or anything, but do you know when requests will reopen?

Short answer: no I don't know.

Long answer:

I closed them because I was getting overwhelmed, I would get more than 10 requests per day and if I replay to one another one immediately gets sent and takes its place.

And at first it was fine yk? I love writing and I love talking, I answered as much as I can of them per day and gave up hours of my life just to write some drabbles or fanfics.

But then it became apparent that they requests are just there for the requester to talk about their own stuff, not to have a discussion with me, not because they value my work and not because they plan on listening to what I have to say.

Even then, no matter how many I posted or replied to, I would be lucky to get a small thank you from someone. A nice comment or reblog was like a fever dream that happens once a week.

Instead I just get more requests, with total disregard to the work I just posted, just asking for more without any tact or politeness. And If I didn't reply the way they wanted? They would complain to me afterwards or send me a long anon ask explaining how I misunderstood their request and here is everything I did wrong.

And those same people would never send a similar long anon ask of what i did right, of if they even appreciated the work I've put in.

I felt taken for granted, both the rude people and the silent people who would just ask for stuff or come talking about their own ideas and never mine were just as horrible in my eyes. I felt not appreciated and just used.

Like I said before, why am I doing free work to people who aren't nice to me? We are not friends, no matter how friendly I am to any requester. We will never be friends, that's a parasocial relationship if you think we are. And I'm not a content creator either! This isn't content I'm posting because I'm literally gaining nothing from it. No money, no coms, not nothing and that's how I want it to be.

I share my writing because I want to, and it's a hobby, I never plan on opening commissions or using monetization. The least someone could do is appreciate the time and work i put for free to the thing they request of me, but no one does that, do they?

There is a different between being a nice person and a decent person, juet because you were decent to me and didn't demand or insult me during the 10 requests in a row you've sent without even leaving a comment on any of them then you're definitely not a nice person.

And fuck I hate talking about this, I hate having to explain myself or my feelings or why I closed requests as if I owe anyone in here an explanation, as if I'm not already taking time from my life for this blog. Time that I could've spent playing videogames or doing something else equally as fun as writing but this time at least I get appreciation back in form of in-game rewards.

I hate seemingly needy and this effected by something as meaningless as comments. But those same needy feelings are what impacted my writing the most, you don't get to enjoy my writing then turn around and condem the same traits that made me write this way in the first place just because those traits started affecting my creativtly negatively.

I'm just tired and fed up, I'm not replying to asks that have nothing to do with me or my writing, I'm not doing any requests when I'll just be met with radio silence. If people who read my work are planning on ignoring me either way and just leave likes then i might as well write what I want and be as self indulgent as much as I want.

And if you think "oh this isn't about me, we are on good terms right?" Then I promise it's definitely about you, it's about each and every single one of you who sent a request and barely sent any appreciation back.

I thought if I was nice and gave everyone the benfits of the doubt, then they'd appreciate me back. Clearly, if I just worked harder, I'll get recognition and love, right? Fuck no, all I got was more work from the same selfish people.

And it stings so much more when it comes from fellow artists and writers you know? You fucking clearly know how this feels like so why are you treating me the same way?

And if you're asking "so what you expect me to always write a comment on the work I requested? I don't wanna spam you and wouldn't it just get redundant."

Then go re-read the fact that we are not friends. I am a stranger to you. You only treat your friends with this level of familiarity and take their nice treatment for granted. I expect you to always be polite, even if it's redundant.

What fucking irks me more is when I go to their profile and see how many fanarts they reblog and leave nice comments under, how it clearly shows how little they value writing in comparison to art.

I posted my writing almost every single day for almost three months and not once did someone acknowledge how hard it is to keep my creativity from drying for this long, how annoying it must have been to cut my own free time in half just to answer a request or post a new work.

I'm not gonna pretend fanartists have it any better, I've seen firsthand how the thousands of likes get 10 or 20 comments at most, and half of these comments are jokes while the other half is asking for permission to repost or use their work.

God, you people have zero tact, and you'll only witness the domino effect of your actions when everything is behind a paywall or on exclusive discord servers that you need to jumpt through hoops to get into.

I'm really fed up. If you think that "well I'm just one person" then you're part of the problem too.

This rant, essay or whatever won't change shit. No matter how many times I keep re-explaining this. It won't change people's minds or views and even when it does, it will only last for a day or two where everyone is suddenly nice to me and walking on eggshells then it's back to the same silent treatment as if this is a tantrum I'm throwing for attention rather than a serious problem that's killing my blog and writing.

It's only you who can change your own mind. You have to sit with yourself and activity change your mindset, you have to keep your own self accountable when you read something and never leave a comment or when you send a request and never send anything nice after it.

And most of you won't, it's sad and hurtful but true. Because you're losing nothing by taking artists for granted, you lose nothing by being selfish and rude, you lose nothing by always asking for stuff and never giving anything back.

Except when you eventually lose the artist or the right to freely request from then, all of the sudden this is effecting you so much and you need an explanation on when the request will be open again. Gosh writer why are you being so selfish and keeping us from demanding free work from you? Aren't you done yet? Instead of actually motivating you by appreciating your work or sending a sweet ask, I'm going to directly ask you when the requests will be open! But it's fine and totally not rude because I said it's not rude!

Of it wasn't for that single anon sweet ask on the Gale interactive story I would've just stopped posting it. A single person single handedly is responsible for motivating me to finish the story while the remaining 50 something voters in it did jack shit and just sat on their ass. You all should be grateful for that one person who sent the ask for giving you the story, I was fully planning on not posting any new part this day.

A single person can make a difference. I remember everyone who left a sweet message after their request, I remember everyone who didn't. I remember everyone who comments or leaves a reaction.

And I remember when a seemingly nice person stops being nice after leaving one nice ask then start spamming requests and never leave anything anymore. It happens more often than not, especially when I make exceptions for them since they were so nice and they take it as free permission to go ham.

I don't know what's causing this, is it my bpd? Is it just December making my depression hit rock bottom? I don't fucking know.

But what I know is that requests won't be open. Not until I decide to.

Drabbles too, i was too latent and expected people to behave better. Instead they started requesting full works but add the word drabble at the end as if it will make it any better.

If your ask isn't related to my work I'm not answering it.

If you don't like this, or think I'm being mean or too demanding, that's fine. Just leave.

Because that what most requestors do after you answer 10 of their asks, they leave to the new shiny artist they find. Not a thank you not anything.

My work has been dying since I closed requests, much less interactions. And that's fine that's okay, I rather be forgotten than used.

Also hello! No rush or anything, but do you know when you're going to start treating me like a human person instead of a fic bot? Do you know when the ability to comment or give feedback is finally unlocked? Do you know when people will understand that a request is a one per person rule until your old request is done, so don't spam me with them?

You don't know? That's fine, have a great day anon! This wasn't meant to be rude or anything because i said it wasn't so that makes it valid right? It makes it okay since I can claim I didn't know better right?

[txtaetertots]

hellooo all~

i've been feeling kinda icky since last night and i don't feel comfortable updating my au just yet until i address this myself. i hope you don't mind.. and also anyone who didn't know about this i hope you don't get turned off from my aus over this 😭

i've already sent fairybinie a dm about it but i feel like i owe it to their followers to address it to them personally as well because i'm aware they're keeping tabs on me and my smau. i had a feeling that ask i received about my inspiration was a little weird bc people don't normally ask that especially in that manner. thought i was just overthinking it and just brushed it off. but it got the best of me and after some digging i found kdt as well as the asks and comments on fairybinie's blog about me and my smau.

i understand their followers believe my au is plagiarizing fairybinie's au kiss don't tell. and i can totally see how you could assume that given that our synopses are practically identical aside from a few key plot points. same general idea though with the whole hs drama club aspect. and i can assure you that i did not intentionally steal fairybinie's idea. i promise you this was entirely my original idea. it's just a really crazy coincidence i guess.

this idea has been in my drive since 2021. the original idea was slightly different to what i have now but it's still the same main concept. that was last modified a year ago in may 2022. here's a screenshot of the doc details as well as the general idea i had for the fic!

then, january 2023, i revisted the document and drafted the current version in my notes app. i was going to post in january but i was very busy with school so i decided to postpone it until summer when i could ensure i had more time. which is also why a majority of my character profiles list their creation date as january 2023 since.. that's when i created them.. :')

i don't prefer to seek inspiration from reading other people's works (but now i'm thinking i should at least review some when i do get an idea so i can avoid this again bc wow big oof on my end). i usually get it from consuming big media like tv, films, music, etc. which is how i got this idea. i watched movies like hairspray and grease which influenced how the current version of my au came to be.

again. i'm truly so sorry that i've caused so many of you to worry. that was never my intention and i'm sorry it appeared to be that way. and i don't blame any of you for reacting and moving the way you did! it was totally valid and fairybinie is very lucky to have people who care so deeply about their work and efforts. but i hope you accept my explanation and apology or at least understand where im coming from and believe me.

hopefully this doesn't deter anyone from giving my works a chance or continuing to read hopelessly devoted tho.. i was really looking forward to sharing my ideas with you guys but i feel like my name has already been tainted without having a proper chance to even create a name for myself yet 💀 sorrows sorrows

i will be updating my au again soon. had a bit of writers block bc i just could not get this issue out of my head. it felt wrong trying to update and ignore the issue when i know there are people watching me like a hawk with negative connotations. pls don't be mad.. 🥲

((if you don't want to continue reading hopelessly devoted tho i totally understand i mean this isn't the greatest image i've got going on right now but thank you at least for giving me a chance!))

[theoddcatlady]

Biter

I’m never going to complain about working at a daycare, it really is my dream job. I love working with kids and seeing how they grow up, when they learn to talk and walk, when they learn to string together sentences… It’s the best.

However, there are some kids that drive me up the wall.

“Ow! Parker, you don’t bite people!”

The hardheaded two year old responded by throwing a block at my head, which I barely ducked as I ran into the bathroom. Parker had been a handful all day, he’d already bitten two of the other children and had kicked Tara in the shin when she managed to drag him away from a quarrel he’d been right in the middle of.

I bit back any swearing as I ran my finger under the tap. Jesus Christ, kids can really bite harder than you think, he’d managed to draw blood. After slapping a band aid on the bite and calling it a day, I headed back out to see that Parker was sulking in the corner and Tara was on the phone.

When she hung up, she turned and grimaced. “How bad did he get you?” She asked.

“Drew blood. Nothing a band aid can’t fix.” I nodded at the phone. “Who were you calling?”

“Parker’s mom.” Tara shook her head and I saw her fingers twitch toward her bag, she might’ve claimed to have kicked her smoking habit but after a rough day she would still vanish for a bit when it just got too much. “Honestly, Parker’s a little monster today and it’s getting to the point where I am not letting him near the other kids. After he took a piece of your skin he went back to hitting poor Brittany. I managed to calm her down with a juice box but… wow, this is not a good day for the lil guy.”

“Did his mom pick up?”

Tara shook her head. “Got sent to voicemail. Just keep an eye on Parker. I’ll manage the other rugrats, hey, at least it’s Friday?” She grinned and weaved over to the TV, loudly offering to put on Spongebob. That got the attention of about three quarters of the kids, the indifferent ones were too young to be enthralled by the cartoon or they were napping.

I saw Parker start to scoot out of his corner and I tutted my tongue. “Parker, ten more minutes in the corner, then we’re going to apologize to everyone you bit,” I said, pushing his chair back into the corner.

Parker glared and for a brief second I was nervous around the kid. Good thing too, because he lunged for me again. This time I managed to shove his ass back in the chair, maybe I was a little rough but this kid was going for my throat. “Stop it! What is up today, Parker?” Sure, he was a rambunctious kiddo, but no more than any other toddler. This was actually concerning.

Parker just turned and sat back down on his chair, crossing his arms and pouting. I sighed.

“Fine. Ten more minutes, buddy.”

Ten more minutes and before I could let him out of his corner his mom showed up. Rita looked as distracted as always, she was still chatting on her phone as she signed Parker out for the day. I tried talking to her about Parker’s behavior but she blew me off, saying, “He’s just going through a phase,” before going back to her conversation on the phone. Without so much as an apology or an explanation she grabbed her son by the shoulder and dragged him off.

That night I headed home, filled my bathtub, tossed in my most glittery bathbomb, lit some candles, turned on some music, and prepped for a night of relaxation. I deserved it.

About a half hour of soaking, I felt the bandaid I slipped on come loose and fall off. I sighed and stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel to dry off.

I came to a dead halt when I saw my finger was turning black.

At first I thought it was a trick of the candle light, but flipping on the light confirmed my initial inspection- the bite mark had turned completely black, while veins running down my finger had began to darken. I wouldn’t have known anything was wrong otherwise, it hadn’t gone numb or anything. It was just black.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Tara’s number while I peeled off the scab, squeezing out the wound into the sink.

“I’m on a date, this better be good,” Tara grumbled when she picked up.

“Yeah, it’s good, Tara. Can you help me call the other parents of the kids that Parker bit? Because my wound is… kinda fucking gross…” I shivered as gray goop dripped into the sink, the same consistency of pus. “I’m probably going to the doctor in the morning, I think it’s an infection.”

“I mean, I’m not surprised. Kid’s mouths are actually the worst,” I could hear Tara shudder, “So many germs.”

I grimaced as more gray goop splashed off the faucet. “You’re telling me. I’ll call Brittany’s dad, you can call Logan’s? Just tell them to check the bites and see if they’re infected too. Then get back to your date, meanwhile I have a date with a needle as I lance this bitch.”

“Aaaand just like that, I’m going to be thinking about your gross pus all night. Thanks for killing the mood.”

“You’re welcome.”

I hung up. I wasn’t seriously going to lance the wound, squeezing it seemed to do the job well enough. It hurt like a bitch though. I gritted my teeth before I turned on the sink, rinsing the wound off and grabbing some Neosporin out of the cabinet.

A new bandaid later and I was right as rain. I checked my list of parent’s numbers and texted Brittany’s mother about the biting incident and to make sure that her daughter was all right before I headed to bed. I was drained, mentally and physically, from a rough day at work.

I rolled over the next morning to find seven missed calls from Tara and that the infection had spread, to put it lightly.

I screamed when I reached for my phone and saw that my right hand looked like I’d dipped it into black ink. If I wasn’t awake then, I was now as I shot up and grabbed onto my hand with my good one. I wiggled my fingers but it was like wiggling them through molasses, each movement sluggish and almost unresponsive. My entire hand was completely numb, no matter how much I poked it there was no response.

I picked up the phone and saw the missed calls, immediately calling Tara back.

“Oh my god, where were you?!” Tara screeched nearly loud enough to pop my eardrum.

“Sleeping! Like a normal person!” I raised my hand in front my eyes, still shocked about what I was seeing. “What happened-”

“Go to the fucking hospital, right now.” I could hear Tara flick her lighter. “I’m serious, how bad are you?”

I swallowed. “… Bad. Let’s just say it’s bad.”

“I… oh Jesus fucking Christ,” Tara’s voice cracked, “I… I had a bad feeling about Logan when I called his parents and they didn’t pick up. So Danny and I went to his house, just to make sure everything was okay, I mean, I live right on his block anyway… I knew it wasn’t when I saw that all the lights were on and it was already past eleven. His house is in bed by ten, at the latest. So I went up to the front door and knocked. I didn’t get an answer… so I walked in.”

My heart sank as I heard Tara start to cry. Tara never cried.

“Everyone was dead. Black goo was everywhere, and his dad was just laying in a puddle of that and blood. I saw Logan just sitting next to his toys and he didn’t look right, like… at all. I’m not fucking kidding, he looked like a corpse stacking toy blocks. He looked up at me and his eyes were just black. He grinned and his mouth was all bloody… I ran out of there screaming. I got into the car just before that little ankle biter launched himself at the window. It cracked and I screamed at Danny to just drive, drive as fucking as he could… I don’t know if we ran that little fucker over or not but I genuinely thought you might be dead.”

I already had thrown on a bathrobe and was walking out the door. “I’m going to the emergency room right now, Tara. What happened after that? Did you tell somebody?”

“No shit we told somebody!” Tara sobbed. “We… we’re at the police station still. Logan’s not the only family who has this happening to them. Brittany’s mom was found hiding in the bathroom as Brittany was clawing at the door and screaming like a wild animal. Brittany’s in the hospital right now and she’s unresponsive. Please, please just get help as fast as you can.”

I’m in the hospital now. I think they’re going to try to stop this from spreading further by taking my arm. The black’s crawled up past my elbow now, I swear it’s gained an inch every time I look to check. Across the hall from me is Parker, while his mom screams that he’s fine and that he’s just going through a phase. She claims she’s going to sue them all but I’m pretty sure she’ll be the one buried in lawsuits.

I managed to catch a glimpse of the little shit though.

He seems to be just like every other little kid… except that he’s still a biter. I think I saw him take a chunk out of the nurse’s arm before the door closed.

[ibblescribbles-archive]

bit of an update on my inactivity! please dont reblog!

i just wanted to make a quick post to acknowledge the people who are waiting on replies to their asks skdmfkmds, i feel bad for not answering them but ive been recovering from a bad bout of depression from around late jan to earlier this month and its been difficult to keep up w/ social media once i find the energy i’ll def get around to answering them, and in the meantime if you have any business or shop related questions you can always contact me through my shop, im still monitoring and responding to emails ofc! other than that im still drawing and working on projects so hopefully ill have some new art to post soon, ty guys for ur patience w/ me ;v;

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (2)

Alright, Here is the addition to the first post I made about Marinette having a somewhat of a similar backstory to Jason.

[Masterlist]

WARNING: the Revenge part have some suicide, death, physical abuse and bullying stuff mentioned. Extreme Lila Bashing.

--------

Marinette runs a business called Afterlife (I am bad with names, gimme a break) with Wayne Enterprise as a partnership. She is the mysterious designer MT.

Jagged knows about Marinette and the whole LB thing after one scare and an explanation and promotes it a lot.

The Waynes can’t believe that she knew Jagged Stone.

So Afterlife brand is taking off and is the hottest new thing since Jagged is wearing it and MT is apparently the mysterious newly adopted Wayne who hasn’t appeared in public much and the family’s personal designer.

Loads of Celebrity commissions.

Gabriel loses sales as the new line they launched ‘coincided’ with the launch of Afterlife’s newest fashion line called Karma.

I should mention that Edna Mode(?) and Audrey Bourgeois gave many praises to MT because they are amazing designs and to spite Gabriel a little bit.

Gabriel doesn’t panic yet. A lie

I haven’t talked about Lila much, have I? Let’s just say she got a visit from a ghost, well, several ghosts.

Remember that guy Marinette mentioned that could get her fake documents. It was John Costantine, who owes her a favor ( he owes her more than a few and he would do anything she asked for her brownies. )

Tim and Babs dig up dirt on Lila Rossi and their silence was brought with a delicious cake.(coffee flavored for Tim)

Gets John to do a little summoning for her.

------

(Suicide implied, death, bullying, You have been warned)

“~Lila~. ~Oh Lila~”

Lila turned to her other side, wishing the voice would shut up.

“Oh, Lie-la, sleeping so peacefully. So silent. I wish you would stay that way forever.” The voice said menacingly.

Lila’s eyes snapped wide open to come face-to-face with supposed to be dead Marinette Dupain-Cheng with a manic look. Did Marinette had red eyes before?

Lila screamed.

“Oh, it’s no use. No one will hear you. Remember when you said those words. To poor Bianca. Every day at lunch break in the old unused bathrooms when you beat her up for not doing as you say.”

A girl with long dark hair appeared. Covered in black and blue bruises. Looking at Lila with hate.

“Let’s not forget. Poor Tommy. Alex. Andrea. Wil. Gary. Nico. Freya. Magnus. Della…” As Marinette listed off names, more and more teens appeared, the youngest being a 10 year old girl.

They all had the same expression as Bianca. Utter hatred.

“And there is me. The latest in your long line of victims. Lie-la, how do you feel right now, looking at the casualties of your greed for fame and fortune? Your ‘enemies’. And you know that English saying, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’.” Marinette gave a sinister laugh.

“You are dead. You were all supposed to be dead. This isn't real. This isn’t real.” Lila chanted, closing her eyes and covering her ears.

She felt cold fingers lifting up her face to meet red eyes, promising many Bad things.

“Sorry, sweetie. This is the cold harsh reality. You thought that you could get away with it. The deaths you caused with your filthy lies and ‘so-call accidents’. You danced on our ashes and you built your kingdom with our blood on your hands. I hoped you enjoyed it while it lasted. ”

The nails dug further into her face, drawing some blood and sure to leave some scars.

“Because, Lila Rossi, this is the last time you would know peace. And could you pass on a message to the Agrestes for me. Tell them that Death cannot hold back the wrath of Ladybug.” Turning to the other ghosts. “Get her.”

Marinette stepped back as the other teens pounced on her. Scratching, pulling, biting. Inflicting pain on Lila. She jumped out the window and landed next to John smoking.

“Thanks for everything. Will she be okay?” Lila’s screams can’t be heard due to a soundproof charm.

“She will wake up in the morning, a little sore thinking it was all a nightmare.”

“That is until she looks into a mirror. I left a little something to remind her that it actually happened. By the way, can you help me with this curse?” She said, pulling out a notebook.

“Let me see. Hmm.. Oh.. that’s a good one. Nice. Wow...You are very creative with curses, remind me to never get on your bad side. But are you sure about that last part?”

“Lila needs a lesson and as much as I hate her and wants her to suffer for the rest of eternity. She doesn’t deserve being tormented for the rest of her life. At least, she should learn that actions have consequences, especially for everything she had done so far.”

“You are too kind despite everything that has happened, Pigtails.”

“Doesn’t mean I am going to give you the resurrection spell I used.”

“You are no fun. You are as bad as Bats.”

--------

Lila’s curse is that she sees her victims when she leasts expects it. Alya, talking about her blog, is replaced with Bianca cracking her knuckles and about to punch Lila. In everyone else, it looked Lila screamed ‘Please don’t hurt me” to a confused Alya.

Lies some more to save face but the more she lies, the more the ghosts keep appearing. Some actually hurt her but there are no bruises or cuts to prove that it happened.

She is just so jumpy all the time and during photoshoots, Adrien gets replaced with a rotting corpse and every picture comes out with fear in her eyes.

Gabriel fires her after a million complaints.

Not before relaying Marinette’s message. “She cursed me. She came into my room and did this to me (pointing to the scars on her face.) She sent my dead classmates after me.”

“Who?”

“Ladybug. She told me to tell you that even Death cannot stop Ladybug’s wrath. So better watch your back, M. Agreste.”

(Gabriel didn’t feel threaten not at all. There is no such thing as ghosts. Sure magic is real with the Kwamis and the Miraculouses as proof. But ghosts? Those are just stories. Lila Rossi just had a nightmare that was too vivid for her. He definitely is not searching Google for warding them off. Especially revenge-seeking ones. He was just looking for inspiration. That MT caused a lot of trouble and sleepless nights for Gabriel but this next line was sure to be a success.) He was wrong.

No matter how many NDAs he made people signed and how much security measures he took. Afterlife seems to hosts fashion shows, launch new lines or their designs made the cover of a famous fashion magazine and SHOWING UP the GABRIEL brand EVERY! SINGLE! TIME!

Gabriel is rarely in the headlines these days and most of the billboards in Paris is filled with products from Afterlife (Chloe as a model with a mask to conceal her identity which adds to a mystery.) or WE.

He is super frustrated and a little desperate.

------

Got any ideas for revenge on Gabriel, Natalie and Adrien? Also the rest of the class?

(Part 3)

[marveicinematics]

kaleidoscope (loki x reader, smut)

Summary : Loki has got the whole night ready : the hotel suite, the rope and the perfect lover. 

Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x female reader.

Words : 1,504

TW : Smut. Oral sex (female receiving, male only mentioned), fingering, unprotected sex, bondage, dom/sub kink, safe word use, masturbation (only mentioned).

Note : Based on readers’ requests. A lot of you wanted Loki in this sort of plot, so I really hope you enjoy it.

"What is this place?“

Your eyes widened as you entered the hotel room. Room — that’s what he called it, but you had never seen an hotel room this big, before tonight. It looked like the most luxurious New-York apparement you had ever set a foot in.

“Our room, for the next..—“ He checked his phone, before turning it off and setting it down the table. “Exactly eight hours and forty-two minutes.“

A laughter escaped your lips. Loki surely knew how to make this romantic, but not by counting every minutes.

“Then we better get started, big boy.“

It all started two weeks ago, after you spent the night at the Avengers headquarters. Loki’s room was on the same floor as Black Widow’s and Captain America’s. After what had been a wild night for both you and Loki, your first time having sex with the god you had been dating for two months, Natasha couldn’t help but to tease you during the entire breakfast. It was only by how blushed Steve’s cheeks went when Natasha mentioned how Loki seemed to have lost his voice overnight, that you realized they both knew. Soon enough, Loki decided both of you deserved a night of wildness without dealing with the Avenger’s sarcastic comments.

When he mentioned an hotel room, you had imagined a gloomy motel room. But there you were, inside what seemed to be a palace room coming from a Disney’s animation film. It didn’t stop you from kissing your man with all the passion and desire you had been saving for this moment. Loki had been so busy with the Avengers that you barely saw him all week long. Sure, you took care of yourself, thinking about how good this night was going to be. But you wanted to save some of this frustration for tonight. A spark of desire rushed in Loki’s eyes as he kissed you back, pushing you down on the bed.

“You’re going to need a safe word, love.“

“A— what?“

He smiled at what you believed was stupidity, but was really just innocence. As always, Loki explained everything he wanted you to know on how and why you should use this word, before reaching an agreement with the word "kaleidoscope“. It was only after both of you repeated it a couple of time to make sure you both knew the meaning behind it that he kissed you again. Deeply, fiercely. With just a kiss, you knew how much he had been wanting you — all of you. Quickly, you managed to undress the brown-haired god, throwing his clothes all over the hotel room floor. Loki seemed to enjoy it, because he followed your idea, taking care of your dress and underwear, leaving both of you fully naked on the queen-size bed.

“Are you ready?“ Asked Loki, and with a large grin across your face, you nodded.

He leaned towards the bedside table, catching the rope he had bought just for you. He even sent you a whole text about it, and how it wasn’t going to hurt you, or as least it would only be a pleasurable pain, from the type of rope he bought. Before his explanations, you really believed a rope was just a rope, but he managed to change your opinion on this subject. While Loki was tying up your wrists on the headboard, you looked at his naked body, your eyes worshiping everything he was. But soon enough, the man was done, and slide between your legs.

"Now, you will obey my commands. Do only as I say, or you will be punished."

His voice was deeper, filled with lust, which only turned your on even more. You could feel yourself getting wetter just by listening to his voice. You nodded again, and despite the fact that he was trying to stay as serious as he could be, you saw a soft grin on his face — he was, oh, so in love with you. But before you had time to say anything, Loki’s face was between your legs, and his expert tongue was all over your pussy, hitting the right spots, sucking the right parts and making you moan with pleasure. For once, you were free to be loud. You wouldn’t hold back. His strong hands made sure your knees stayed wide opened, as he kept licking you the way you liked it the most. How was it that he already knew all your soft spots, all the things that were driving you crazy? Eyes rolling back, body arching against him, you pulled the rope to free your hands, but it wouldn’t let go. He must have learned exactly how to tie you up — how fucking arousing. And while you tried to think of a way to touch his body, his tongue was still working magic between your legs. It didn’t take you long before your whole body was shaking against the bed, your first orgasm making you scream your lover’s name. But it didn��t stop the god of mischief, who kept pleasuring you, as one of his finger entered you.

“Fuck, Loki. I’m so— Fuck, so sensitive.“ You muttered, only causing his smile to widen while he was sucking on your clit.

Expert fingers going in and out of you while his face was still between your legs, you could feel your inside clench and your legs shake again, even before you reached your second orgasm against his fingers.

“Faster. Yes! Keep going. I’m going to—“

You tried to warn him, but his strong digits kept hitting the right spot inside of you, and you came again, hard. Third orgasm, and it was loud enough that the people in the room next door knocked on the wall.

“We’re busy.“ Loki replied, shaking his head.

You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, even if he already made you reach orgasm three times. One thing you realized about Loki was how he enjoyed seeing you lose your mind, while you were so sore ans sensitive. You only had a minute to calm down, before he entered you without warning.

“Fuck, Loki.“

“Do you feel how hard hearing you scream my name made me, baby?“

You nodded again, and he started bucking his hips. The expression of pure bliss on his face aroused you even more, making you arch against him as he was going deeper. You liked it when he got rough because of how he needed you, how he wanted you so badly.

“I’m not sure you can make me come again.“ You said softly, innocent eyes staring at him.

Was it a defiance? Yes. Did you entend it to be? Absolutely. His eyes darkened and he gripped your face.

“You will come again against my cock, or you will be punished. Understood?“

You nodded. Loki went deeper and harder, making sure you would actually reach another orgasm with him. And as you started to feel closer, you heard Loki’s moans becoming louder as he was approaching his peak. “Come, love. Together.“

He thrusted deeper inside you, emptying himself in a groan you were positive the neighbor must have heard. To make sure you were following his orgasm, he reached down between your legs, circling your clit with his fingers. “I said cum for me.“

And you did, again. Body shaking, you closed your eyes so tight while you were screaming your pleasure that when they opened again, everything around you was blurry. Fourth orgasm, you felt like your head was spinning. But it didn’t seem to stop your man, who started to give a few hard thrusts inside you. “Fuck, stop. Loki.“ You moaned again, your body still shaking from the previous orgasm.

But he kept going, his fingers taking care of you at the same time again. And you felt another rush of pleasure brushing through your whole body, but you weren’t quite sure if you were about to cum again or to pass out.

“Ah! F—Fuck, ka— kale—.“

Moans after moans, it took you a few seconds to actually say the word.

“Shit, Loki. Kaleidoscope!“

He stopped as soon as he heard. Quickly, he untied your arms, laying down against you. One of his arm wrapped around your naked and sweating body, he whispered.

“I’m so sorry, love. Did I hurt you? I thought you were enjoying it.“

“I was. It was so fucking good, Loki.“

Doubtful, he frowned, his eyes staring at your tired face while he was trying to understand.

“Never a man fucked me so good, okay? It just started to be a lot of pleasure. Do you know how many times I came?“

As he shook his head, you let out a soft chuckle. Your hand found his long black hair, that you started caressing tenderly.

“Something between four and five times. I’m not sure.“

“So, you owe me a lot of orgasms, right?“

You laughed again at his observation, looking at his beautiful face.

“Let me get some rest, and my mouth will take care of this matter.“

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 23}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was torn.

Half of her thought that Cassian was overreacting, but the other half of her thought that his anger and frustration was perfectly justified.

What exactly were they getting into? And, was it what was best for Nyx? Yeah, the last month had been great, but if it didn’t work out, what would that mean for him? Would it be better if she and Cassian had simply remained two friends, co-parenting under one roof?

Nesta’s heart began to beat a little faster.

She felt like she was going into a panic attack.

Cassian and Nyx had been gone for an hour, and every second that passed became more and more unbearable.

She needed him to be there.

She needed to figure this out.

She just didn’t know what the answer was.

Alis had gotten into her head, there was no doubt about that. A little over an hour ago, she was living in a dream, then Alis came in, out of nowhere, and brought her back to reality.

She was sitting on the couch, almost exactly where he’d left her, when he finally returned. He was covered in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. Nyx was having a conversation with him, more to himself though, since it didn’t seem like Cassian was even close to paying attention to him. But his eyes went directly to Nesta as soon as he walked in.

She’d changed. She no longer wore his t-shirt, instead in a loose shirt of her own and a pair of jeans, and her hair was loose and wet around her face. As if she’d need to shower their night together, shower him off of her. Not a shred of that beautiful skin was showing, not like she’d been doing lately. Leggings and shorts and tank tops. She’d been comfortable around him.

With a scoff, Cassian set Nyx down on the floor. He headed for the stairs, but Nesta stood, nearly toppling the cup of coffee she’d been clutching over as she set it on the coffee table. “Cassian, we need to talk about this.”

He paused, waving a hand towards her. “What for? It looks like you’ve already made your decision.”

“I need you to calm down,” she said, steadily. “I need you to think logically.”

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me.”

Nesta hesitated. “Tell you what?”

“If this is something you want to pursue or if I just wasted the last couple months falling in love with you,” he finished.

His voice may have lacked emotion, but Nesta felt every word like a stab in the chest. Falling in love with you. Those were the words she was going to tell him today, under much different circumstances.

Now, she didn’t know what to think.

Now, she was overwhelmed.

Now, all of her thoughts were rushing toward the same spot in the middle of her skull at a thousand miles an hour, and when they got there, her head would explode.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“But it should be,” Cassian said. “If you feel the way that I do, it should be that easy.”

“We have to think of Nyx,” she breathed.

“I am thinking of Nyx,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. At the sound of his name, the baby turned to look at him. “I want him to grow up in a happy home, seeing two people who love each other, and damn it if that isn’t how it’s been for the past few weeks.”

“It’s not that simple,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “What happens if we break up? What happens if we get in a fight or something happens to one of us? What then?”

He had strode down the stairs and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He framed her face in his hands, like he had so many times the past month, to kiss her, to make love to her, to show her how he cared for her. “Why are you worrying about the what if’s? Why are you worrying about what could go wrong, rather than how right everything has been?”

Because everything goes wrong eventually. The only reason we’re together is because we were shoved into this house after the worst thing imaginable happened. They died. We took over. What right do we have to be happy?

The words flooded her mind, but stilled on her tongue.

Nesta didn’t push him away. She wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him, softly, but she didn’t.

Instead, she met his gaze. “Cass,” she breathed.

The pain in his eyes nearly shattered her heart into a million pieces.

Nyx had walked up to them and was hugging Nesta’s leg, as if he knew that she needed the comfort.

“Dont say my name like that,” he whispered.

Nesta slowly shook her head. “I just think this has all happened too quickly. We haven’t been thinking, we’ve just been acting-.”

“You’re pushing me away,” Cassian interrupted, swallowing harshly. “Damn it, Nesta.”

“You don’t understand,” she pleaded.

“Because you’re not making sense,” he argued. “Things have been perfect—”

“They’re dead!” She cried, pulling from his grip, scooping Nyx up. “Things have been far from perfect. We’re only like this now because Rhys and Feyre are dead.”

The words seemed to freeze something inside of Cassian and he stepped back as well. “So what? We go back to how we used to be? I’m back in the guest room and we awkwardly exchange good mornings over breakfast?”

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of him, the scent of him, everything. “I don’t know, Cassian, I don’t—.” She took a shuddering breath, her arms wrapping tighter around Nyx. “I just need some time to think, to breathe…”

When she looked back up at him, his jaw was set and he was slowly nodding. “Fine. Take your time.”

And then he was moving, back up the stairs before Nesta could even ask what he was doing.

A few minutes later, he was back with a duffle bag in his hands.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Giving you space,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.

Nesta opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging open, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach into her heart, which was beating far too quickly.

Cassian kissed Nyx on the forehead as he passed, but paid Nesta no mind as he went for the door.

“Cassian!” She called, at last.

Cassian stopped just in front of the door, keeping his back to her, one hand on the doorknob.

“You're just going to leave?” She asked, quietly, bouncing a sleepy Nyx on her hip. “Just like that?”

Cassian didn’t turn around. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”

Yes. No. I don’t know. Nesta said nothing.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grumbled, exhaustion lacing his tone. “Maybe I need time to think, too.”

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him.

*

He didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He knew where he wanted to be, but right now…

He couldn’t look at her.

It didn’t escape him that when he’d told her he’d fallen in love with her, she didn’t say it back. He couldn’t even act like he hadn’t seen her eyes flare in panic. So he couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t go back to sleeping in that guest room, not when he’d become so used to sleeping with her in his arms every night.

So Cassian had ended up here, knocking on his brother’s door, thankful that his car had been parked in the driveway when he pulled up.

He needed a drink. He needed someone to tell him he was being an asshole. He needed someone to listen while he vented and bitched. He knew Azriel would do all that for him.

When he answered the door, Seph was in his arms, pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled when she saw Cassian, but Azriel’s surprised smile quickly faded.

“Do I want to know?” He asked, looking at the duffel bag tossed over Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Azriel stared at him for a second before stepping aside and letting Cassian pass.

“Are we talking about this now or later?” Azriel asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Beer?” Cassian asked, dropping his bag beside the couch.

“Fridge,” Azriel said, slowly, watching him.

Cassian made his way to the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, grabbing a cold bottle and chugging its contents.

Azriel followed, leaning against the countertop and Seph continued to play with his lips.

“Where’s Elain?” Cassian asked, tossing the empty bottle into the trash and getting another.

“Work,” Azriel said, sighing. “So, if this involves smack talking Nesta, you may want to get it out now.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to do that, barely wanted to think about her. But he owed Azriel at least some explanation.

“The social worker stopped by this morning,” he sighed, leaning back against the counter and opening the beer. “And honestly, yeah, it was unexpected, but I figured it’d be fine. Last time, Nes was drunk off her ass, but we— I figured, since we were more of a family this time, things would be great.”

Azriel blinked. “They’re not taking Nyx, are they?”

Another shake of his head. “No, gods, no. They— She could tell he was in good hands, but she immediately picked up on Nesta and I. What we’ve…become.”

It seemed, just like Cassian, Azriel didn’t see it as a problem. He wasn’t following. “And?”

“And Nyx was hungry so I left the social worker and Nesta alone to get him breakfast. I came back and she’s gone and Nesta is second-guessing our relationship. She asked if I’m just fucking her out of convenience.”

The thought made him sick to his stomach, almost as badly as it hurt his heart.

“And you replied with…” Azriel began, trailing off, waiting for Cassian to finish the sentence.

“I went for a jog,” Cassian said, shrugging.

“So you ran away?” Azriel pushed.

Cassian shot him a look. “No. I went for a jog.”

Azriel sighed. “And when you came back?”

“She said she needed space,” Cassian said, emptying his bottle.

Azriel set Seph on the floor with a plastic spatula, which she instantly start banging on the cabinets. “And that’s when you ran away?”

“I didn’t run,” Cassian snapped. “I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space.”

Azriel slowly shook his head. “Did you even try to talk things out?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, the word clipped. “Told her I was falling in love with her, and guess how she replied?”

Azriel watched his brother.

“Didn’t say a fucking word,” Cassian finished.

When Azriel didn’t speak, he walked back to the trash can, dropping the bottle inside.

“Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here,” he said, unable to turn around and look his brother in the eye. “She was ending it. She was calling things off and I’m supposed to, what? Just keep living there like we were before? Pretend nothing has changed?” He swallowed hard, willing the damn tears clouding his vision to fade. They wouldn’t. “She didn’t even ask me to stay.”

Azriel sighed, opening a cabinet beside the fridge that Seph couldn’t reach. He produced a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter. “I can’t drink until Elain gets home. And I absolutely think you need to talk to Nesta, but I think you’re right. You need to stay here tonight. Give her space.”

Cassian blinked, and a tear that was holding on slid free, down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He felt ridiculous, but it had been a long time since he had told a woman that he loved her. He’d never said it in his adulthood. A couple times in his teens, before he knew what the word really meant, but never as an adult.

He’d said it.

He’d meant it.

And she hadn’t felt the same.

Cassian nodded and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

*

Nesta stared at Cassian’s contact on her phone screen.

She wanted to press the call button, but didn’t.

She did open a blank text a few times, but couldn’t type anything.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Cassian.

But, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

She had never been one who was dependent on a man, had spent most of her twenties single and having no problem with it. But suddenly, she couldn’t imagine her day to day life without Cassian in it. And that terrified her.

She heard murmuring on the baby monitor sitting next to her on the side table and glanced over to see Nyx sitting up in his crib.

It had been nearly three hours since Cassian left, and aside from putting Nyx down for a nap, Nesta had barely moved. She still sat in the same spot on the couch she’d been in when the social worker had shown up and when she’d ignored that Cassian had said that he loved her.

The words should have filled her with joy and she should have screamed from the rooftops that she loved him, too. Instead she locked up and thought she was going to be sick.

What was wrong with her?

Wiping away the tears she didn’t even realize had fallen, Nesta hurried up the stairs, and into Nyx’s nursery. He reached for her the moment he saw her, his own big, blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“What’s wrong, bubba?” She cooed, resting his head against her shoulder.

After a deep sigh, he looked up at her and reached for a tear that had fallen down her cheek. His lip began to wobble.

“I’m okay,” Nesta promised, even though her voice cracked and those tears continued. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise.”

Nyx knew, though.

He knew something wasn’t right.

He knew Cassian was gone.

He knew Nesta was heartbroken.

Little did he know that her heartbreak was self-inflicted.

Nyx laid his head back on her shoulder and clung to her. He stayed like that as she walked back downstairs and sat back in her spot on the couch.

He held onto her, looking around the room. She knew he was looking for him and was about to tell him he wasn’t here when he spoke. The word wasn’t a mash up of noises like it had always been. No, it was a true and steady word. His first word.

“Dada?”

Nesta froze. She didn’t even know what to say. Should she tell him Cassian wasn’t his father? He probably wouldn’t even understand, just like he didn’t understand where Rhys and Feyre had gone.

But…for all intents and purposes, Cassian was his daddy now. And she was his mama.

So she pressed a kiss to his dark hair and whispered. “He had to leave, baby. He had to go for a little while.”

Nesta hoped and prayed that Cassian would walk back through that door, and yet, she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him to.

That night, instead of Cassian taking up the spot next to her, it was Nyx, who held her hand until they both fell asleep.

[dat-town]

not gonna miss this chance

Characters: Han Seojun & soloist!female reader

Genre: fluff

Setting: true beauty au, set a year after the tv show’s ending timeline

Summary: Your career is on the verge of ending, hence your management puts you up to do a duet with the infamous Han Seojun. You have heard too many rumours about him to keep track of and yet, none of them could have prepared you for the feelings that came with meeting him.

Words: 4.1k

Self indulgent little snippet because he deserves happiness too.

You had heard of Han Seojun before meeting him, of course you had. Everybody who was in the industry had heard of the hot trend of a Newstagram star-turned idol and his band's shining debut from a year ago. They were told to have snatched teenage girls hearts all over Korea with their good looks and soulful music. You had heard their title track and you had to admit it was nice but nice wasn't enough in a cut-throat industry like entertainment.

Look at you, starting training at twelve, debuting at fifteen and now barely twenty-one you were on the verge of becoming a thrown away doll. Once you had been called cute and the it girl of your generation and now? People were saying you got boring just because your music had matured. Gosh, you couldn't keep singing about first love like your hit song had been for the rest of your life for god's sake. Your last album had been a flop, your company had been losing money and you were still afraid that even with a year left of your contract, they would cut you. But your manager had begged them for a chance and here it was: a collaboration with the newest love of Korea.

But the thing was, Han Seojun had quite a reputation and you didn't know who to believe. Some said he was well-mannered and hard-working. Others gossiped that he was always flirting with his makeup artists and Chen claimed he had been rude to her even when he had just been a ‘nobody’. Not that you were particularly fond of Chen either but as a fellow solo female singer you were a tad bit worried how the infamous singer would treat you.

Well, standing in front of Move Entertainment, you were just about to find out. Taking a shallow breath you followed your manager's lead, bowing to the receptionist and getting into the elevator after taking your visitor's badge. You had heard the company has gone through many changes after the executives were replaced due to the revealed Seyeon scandal but everything looked expensive, shiny and new, unlike in your small agency.

“Hey, I’m Lim Heekyung, nice to meet you. Seojun will be in a minute, too,” a woman in a pantsuit walked up to you on the right floor with a confident smile as she introduced herself. She led you to a meeting room which was apparently customized for a few people only and started preparing papers. She looked excited which was a relief and nice to see, at least someone from Move Entertainment was happy for this project apparently. You were a bit afraid they would see you like a leech, trying to cling onto their new star’s popularity.

“Shall we start? Seojun is a fan of dramatic entrances anyways,” Miss Lim laughed joyfully as if it wasn’t new to her that the idol didn’t make it on time. Ah yeah, you had heard rumours saying that he had something on the company and that was why they were so lenient with him.

You sat in silence, let your manager do the talk about the collaboration project. Seojun could play the guitar, you could play the piano, apparently it was perfect for a ballad duet, though if you used instruments yourself it added to the preparations time. But luckily, there was a songwriter named Leo at the company who had already sent in a few samples specifically for Seojun, so you didn’t have to start from zero.

“Ah, I see you started without me. What did I miss?” A tall boy opened the door wide and flipped down onto the chair across you casually. He had grown into his lanky limbs and with those wide shoulders hugged by the leather jacket, helix earrings in one ear and soft brown hair brushed to one side, it wasn’t a surprise how many female fans swooned over him. But there were a lot of handsome boys in the business, just his looks – no matter how confident he was in them based on the way he carried himself – wouldn’t make a difference.

Miss Lim patiently let Seojun know about the advances and only when she mentioned your name, did the boy glance at you. His dark brown eyes had a sharp form, just as piercing as his gaze, but the cunning smile spreading over his lips softened it a bit. He looked at you as if he wanted to see through you, to figure out how he should have approached you. You expected a snarky or arrogant comment, but in the end, he just flashed a blinding smile at you, one you could see on his posters, before turning back to Miss Lim.

“What’s the schedule?” he asked simply and you both were notified about the deadline of deciding and finalizing the song, the dates of planned recording sessions and the photoshoot. Since there would be no promotion period, it all would be done within a month and half from start to finish. You were a bit relieved hearing that and leave Move Entertainment without any confrontation.

You thought you were good at masking your wary feelings since the further meetings went well and the first recording session went okay-ish. Although both of you had been a bit scolded by the producer for not putting enough feelings into your singing. He claimed that the demo sent by Leo was much more emotional which made Seojun scoff and mumble under his nose. The PD called it for a day, making you promise to practice for next time and one by one they all left. Your manager told you that he would bring the car while you refresh yourself in the bathroom, so you really didn’t expect anyone to wait for you when you stepped out of the restroom, much less Han Seojun.

"Spit it out," he bit out barely glancing your way as he leaned against the corridor’s wall.

"What?" you spluttered as you were really taken aback by his out of blue appearance and question. The guy let out a tired sigh at your obliviousness and pushed himself away from the wall just to walk up to you, towering over your height with his.

"You look at me as if I killed your hamster or something. Which rumour about me bothers you? I fucking can't keep walking on eggshells around you, especially when it's just the two of us," he tsked and you gulped at the sudden called out. You didn’t think it bothered him, or that he was considerate enough to ‘walk on eggshells around you’, you merely thought he was so distant from everybody. It was still better than what Chen had told you.

"Oh, I… nothing. It's stupid. Sorry," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed for your your actions but Seojun apparently wasn’t satisfied without a real answer as he carried on:

"I didn't bully kids in high school but I threatened ones that deserved it, I didn't only get a pity chance from the entertainment, one of our makeup artists is actually one of my best friends, I'm not…"

"Chen told me you are rude and arrogant and have no respect for girls," you blurted out to stop him from speaking because you felt like you didn’t deserve to hear all that. He didn’t owe you any explanation for the way he was. You were just co-workers for a project after all, you had no place in his life, nor he had in yours, so he shouldn’t have been that bothered by your opinion but you understood that he felt uncomfortable due to your silent accusations.

Hearing your hasty interruption, the singer scoffed, a laugh-like sound leaving his mouth.

"Well, I have no respect for girls like Chen who harass my friends and turn their lives into hell just to go on a date with me," he said and it made you blink slowly.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Check your facts before you go around believing such crap," Seojun stepped back with a roll of his eyes.

The whole situation made you feel made about how you acted, so you wished to apologise but it fell from your lips all too carelessly: "Sorry, I was just worried. This is my last chance, so–"

"Last chance?" the guy quirked a brow at you, curious but you quickly waved his question away.

"Nevermind, I just need this song to do well."

"Of course, it will. I'm Han Seojun, it will turn to gold under my hands," he grinned and made eccentric gestures as if he was about to do magic. You couldn't help a smile. “Or well, vocal chords.”

And turn it to gold, he did.

The rest of your recording sessions went smoother, even the previously grumpy PD complimented your for the development in your chemistry. Funny, you wouldn’t have thought that the wall pulled up between the two of you mattered that much, but at least you didn’t have a knot in your stomach, nor did you worry about every small thing you did around Han Seojun. He also acted more casual, more playful, joking around when both of you had a bit of time to take a breather. He snapped silly pictures, showed off with his height, smirked when he got too close but despite all his bravado and lowkey flirting, you believed even he wouldn’t have jeopardised his career over something like this.

Maybe that's why wrapping up the recording felt a tad bit weird: you got used to his presence, his jokes, his beautiful, deep voice that you could have fallen asleep to. Sure, sometimes he was cocky, a bit rough around the edges but he was a great singer and a fun guy. The project seemed to work out well and you loved it a lot, so you hoped the listeners would appreciate it as well.

But before all that you had one photo shoot together for the promotional pictures and the single's cover. You were grateful for the simple pastel colour background and elegant setting. The warm light latte colour and the clock in the background really fit the song's vibe. Luckily, your dress was decent and pretty as well, you didn't have to feel uncomfortable in it at least.  However, you didn’t expect that happy yelp coming from one of the makeup artists stepping into the dressing room. You turned to face the girl, wondering whether she was your fan judged by her excitement.

"Oh my! I'm so happy to finally meet you! Seojun told us about you so much!" she beamed at you which obviously took you back. Well, that you didn’t expect at all. He spoke of you to others? Ah. Apparently to the makeup artist who was most probably that certain one of his best friends he had told you about?

"Don't exaggerate, Imju, I mentioned her like what… once?" Seojun walked in on cue. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, trying to avert the topic. "How's Suho?"

You had know idea who that said guy was but after a moment or two you could breathe properly once again while listening to their chatting.

“Just the usual. He’s excited about your duet.”

“Of course, he is,” Seojun grinned, a bit snarky but you could hear the proud undertones of it. When he looked at you, you were surprised by him leaning close though as he quieted down until only you could hear it. “Don’t worry, Jugyeong is really good and just stop her if she gets too gossip-y.”

“Are you talking about me behind my back, hah, Han Seojun?” The pretty girl called Jugyeong raised her fist as if she was about to hit the idol but he just laughed it off and left you two alone when he was hurried onto the set to start with his individual shoots.

“Have you known each other for a long time?” you couldn’t help but wonder as you were seated to get your makeup from her.

“Ah, almost 4 years, I think. We went to high school together. Plus, he’s best friends with my boyfriend. Though, they are always bickering like a married couple,” Jugyeong chuckled joyfully as she started with the cushion. You closed your eyes, listening as she kept going on about the time when Seojun had been obsessed with his motorbike, getting into trouble with his mother. It was strange hearing about a whole other side of him, mama's boy but the image tugged on your mouth, making you smile even though you weren't sure you had the right to know all that. You also learned that Seojun's sister was dating Jugyeong's brother and you felt so involved with the girl's trust albeit it was your last meeting, you were sure Seojun must have only told good things about you.

Hence, you felt shy under his knowing gaze when you walked out of the dressing room. He must have known that Jugyeong couldn't shut up for the life of her, so he looked a bit uncertain, too, stretching the back of his neck, forcing a cunning smile onto his smile when you took your place next to him.

To fit the ballad's theme, the setting was a piano decorated with flowers and you were instructed to sit beside him as if you were about to play a four hands piece. As you did what you had been told, you were very much aware of the way your arms brushed, his long fingers over the keys close to yours, his smile small but genuine.

"Great, great, guys! Someone help her onto the piano and Seojun, stand in front of her," the photographer directed the next scene but before any staff members would have rushed up to you, the singer next to you shushed them.

"I can do it," he insisted as he stood up and looked you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded while holding your breath back before Seojun put his hands on your waist above the fluffy tulle skirt part and counting on three, he lifted you onto the lid of the beautiful instrument.

You crossed your legs, watching in awe as your pink skirt fell down on waves  but your breath hitched for an entirely different reason when you looked up, gaze meeting Seojun's feline eyes trained on you. You had never seen him look at you like that, lacking playfulness or suspicion or curiosity. He looked open, vulnerable, outright starstruck. Your lips parted meaning to ask something but your brain shut off when you heard the shutter of the camera go down and the director yelling compliments at you. It made you snap out of it and later, you blamed the evident blush on your cheeks on the makeup. Seojun blinked too, his guarded expression back in no time, finishing the photo shoot professionally, always lingering close to you, but never touching you. Even though you wouldn’t have minded.

"Hey," Seojun peeked into your dressing room just as you were about to leave, packing up, with a smile on his mouth and sparkles in his deep brown eyes. But unlike half an hour ago when he wore a fancy suit and looked at you like a prince would have looked at his princess, he acted just as casual as he looked in his denim jacket over dark tee. "Wanna grab something with me if you finished for today?"

His question took you back but first thing first you glanced towards your manager, eyes begging for permission which you had gotten with a sigh.

"Just be discreet and call me if you need me to pick you up," your manager shrugged, leaving you two alone with a knowing look that told you to be careful. You didn't need to be told though, you knew how much depended on the current public response to your image.

"Seems like a green light. Have you thought of anything specific?" you turned back to the boy with a subtle smile.

"Not really but I know a few less frequent, secluded places to avoid much talk about us," he said and you nodded, following his lead. Masks, caps and hoodies on, you barely talk on your way to the tent with the lovely ahjumma who welcomed Seojun (two heads taller than her) with a pinch of his cheeks and told you to get seated.

"Are you a regular here?" you inquire, carefully pulling down your mask since not many people are around.

"You could say that," the boy hummed letting you adjust to the place at your own pace, not pressuring you with extra reassessments about how safe it is there. Yet, he is so casual as if he wasn't afraid of a getting mobbed by Dispatch out of the blue. Not that it happened to you a lot of times but you heard stories and at such a crucial time in your career, you feared something like that more than anything.

"Do you want to come up to mine instead?" Seojun blurted out suddenly which made you wide eyed in a span of a moment as you splattered out a surprised yelp. "Come on, I don't mean anything by it. You just look really nervous being in the public," the singer said, his deep voice softening, soothing by the end and you needed to take a breather before answering. You didn't think it was so obvious but apparently you had never been a good liar with him.

In the end, you decided on going over to Seojun's place, so he asked the ahjumma to pack your food to go and you headed towards his flat a few blocks from the company. It was a small but cozy place, much softer and brighter than you expected, lots of pastels and photos of friends and family. While the boy busied himself in the kitchen, getting you plates, chopsticks and beer, you were encouraged to look around and you couldn't help but smile at his photos with not only his band members but high school friends, too. You had seen photos of his graduation with Jugyeong, then another one of his debut with her and another guy.  He was a recurring person on a lot of pictures, so you assumed that he was the so-called Suho.

"He's Jugyeong's boyfriend," Seojun affirmed as he walked up to you which you acknowledged with a hum and smiled at his photos with his sister and mother. The makeup artist was right when she said he was only tough on the outside.

"You knew Seyeon?" you whispered as your gaze shifted of a picture of three boys smiling widely into the camera. The middle one was the talented boy you had known  from the news of his committed suicide. Such a tragedy.

"Uhum. We were best friends. Him, Suho and me," Seojun nodded and without having to ask, he told you how they had gotten to know each other, what were their favourite past time activities and how they fell apart when he died. You could see he was hurting even now as he was talking about it, so you grazed your fingers against his knuckles as though to say you were there for him to listen, or whatever he needed.

Talking about his best friends and how a group of guys including someone named Chorong stuck by his side over the years warmed your heart. It was nice to know that not everyone had it as lonely as you who basically missed out on high school and memories from that time to be able to turn your dreams into reality. Your only friends were also in the industry but it made things both easier and harder.

"What about you? What did you mean by this being your last chance?" Seojun asked like a loaded gun but after everything he had just told you, you knew you could trust him with this and being in the industry for a while now, he must have understood, too.

You told him about the rising expectations, about your image and your company's ultimatum. It actually felt nice to talk about with someone other than your manager. Especially since Seojun seemed to understand exactly why you felt conflicted over the matter. You have given your youth to this dream of yours, so giving up on it would have felt like betraying yourself and everyone who believed in you but you weren't sure you could give it another 10 years of your life no matter how much you liked music. You had decent CSATs result, maybe you could have applied for a university program. Seojun even offered to arrange a meeting between you and Suho who was studying to become a proper songwriter.

You talked for hours and ate the tteokbokki even though it had gotten cold long ago and you couldn't remember when was the last time you had felt so light. You felt giddy even with just the tiny bit of alcohol in your system by the time you knew it was time for you to go.

Once you had felt relieved knowing that promoting your duet would be only one performance but recently, you started dreading the moment because that meant that you wouldn't have any more excuse to see Seojun. In the backstage, this time around you greeted Jugyeong like an old friend and teased to give Seojun a funny makeup before walking up to your  own assigned staff members. Your look was full of sparkles and glow fitting the silver colour of your dress, completing the ethereal vibe off the stage you were going to do and the beautiful song you had grown to love so much you held it close to your heart. The last rehearsals went smoothly and if you noticed Seojun's gaze lingering a bit too long, you didn't comment on it.

"Are you nervous?" he asked before the final recording and you knew it would have been unreasonable to deny it, so you replied with a small smile.

"A bit."

"Don't be. You're pretty and you'll do amazing," he reassured you and the way he said those words oh so easy. As if they were natural. As if he believed in you and maybe this was all the reassurance you needed because when you walked up onto the stage, not taking your eyes off his, it felt like it was just the two of you there. All the stress about not being good enough, about being judged for who you were and what you wanted to do with your life was subsided as you focused on the moment, just to sing this one song with one while trying to fight your heart's crazy beating.

You didn't really have the luxury to have crushes. You had always been concentrated on your work, you couldn't let yourself have distractions, especially since love scandals always affected girl worse than guy. At least that was what you told yourself for always putting up a wall around you and guarding your heart all too well. But during the past few weeks, between playful or flirty remarks, between smiles and ruffling hair, Seojun took apart your wall brick by brick even if he wasn't aware.

So it might have been only a few days since you had last seen him but in that rare moment of boredom, alone in your room, you realized that you missed him. Hell, you liked him and the feeling made me want to scream into your pillow as if you were a silly teenager. As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a new message and seeing the KakaoTalk ID made you shy.

duet partner, han seo jun

so...

i've been thinking

you

sounds dangerous but ok

duet partner, han seo jun

don't get sassy with me, miss

you

what have you been thinking about?

duet partner, han seo jun

that i don't want to miss my chance

there's this girl i like

i thought of asking her out

do you think she would say yes?

you

oh. well... why wouldn't she?

i mean, you are talented, handsome, funny and reliable

duet partner, han seo jun

and what about my job? it's busy and a bit crazy

don't you think it would be unfair of me to ask?

you

I think you should let her decide that

duet partner, han seo jun

okay

are you free on friday?

you

um, sure?

duet partner, han seo jun

cool, then go on a date with me?

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1

This is my first time publishing any of my reader insert work so don’t be too hard on me. Y/N is a psych student that needs a favor and asks her therapist for help. Lmk if you want to see more.

It was an unmistakable conflict of interest, your relationship with Hannibal. He was your therapist, your mentor, your partner, and many years your senior to boot. You recognized this monumental power imbalance. You put on a façade of embarrassment for the people who expected it; people whose proclivities were done in the shadows and therefore easier to get away with. Why should you be expected to rationalize your loving, mutually beneficial relationship to a person who regularly cheats on her boyfriend?

You'd dated men your own age before, and without fail, you always found yourself waiting for them to grow up. Hannibal made you feel comfortable. Both emotionally and physically. You had a side of his bed and a spot in his arms to fall asleep in every night. Given the choice, you could truthfully say you'd never want to leave his arms.

Like many unlikely relationships, it didn’t start out in the most romantic of ways. Clutching your laptop under your raincoat, you hesitated knocking. Your therapist had, of course, seen you at your lowest points and was sworn to secrecy, but this was a low you didn’t want even him to see. Standing outside of his home, in the so-incredibly-not-business-hours dead of night with mascara running down your face. 

You finally worked up the nerve to knock, telling yourself that he was probably asleep and wouldn’t hear you. This rationalization fell apart when the interior light turned on and the door unlocked. Although you’d been seeing Dr. Lecter for quite a while, his presence never failed to intimidate you. Now it was even worse. His severe expression was fixated on you as he silently awaited an explanation. 

“Dr. Lecter...” You lowered your head and fumbled with your computer. You made a point to kiss your last shreds of dignity goodbye before you opened your mouth again. “...could I please borrow a book?” 

Dr. Lecter narrowed his eyes. “I take it by the hour, this is an urgent matter, Miss [L/N]?”

“My midterm. It’s due in...” You glanced at your watch. “Eight hours.” 

“Well you don’t have a moment to waste, now do you?” Dr. Lecter said, a slight upturn in his voice connoting amusement. “Come in. Let’s find you that book.” 

You felt your muscles relax as he stepped aside to let you in. The house was spacious. Much too large for one person. That was really the only thing you could bring yourself to notice before he shut the door behind you. 

“Now what is this all-important book of yours called?” He asked, pulling your raincoat from your shoulders like he always did. 

“It’s called Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism.” You explained, tucking your computer under your arm. “By Robert Jay Lifton.” 

“You’re in luck, Miss [L/N].” His thin lips turned up into a smile. “I have a copy from my own years as a student.”

You breathed an audible sigh of relief. You tensed your muscles and held in your excitement at the prospect of something finally going according to plan, even if that plan was your third or fourth backup.

You followed him into his office, which reminded you more of Belle’s library than any workspace you’d ever encountered. He must have had thousands of books in this room alone.

“It’s a fascinating read, but not one you could finish in eight hours.” Dr. Lecter's voice echoed from somewhere in the office, getting lost in the books. “Even for the most ravenous of psychology students, of which I know you to be.” 

"Hardly." You muttered under your breath. "If that were the case, I wouldn't be begging for help at 2am before the final paper is due."

"Procrastination is only human, my dear." He assured you, his voice drawing closer. "It's common in those with deep-rooted insecurities about their competency."

"Now that sounds more like me." You joked, leaning back on your heels. "Should you really be trying to validate my bad habits? I feel like that's counterproductive."

"Scolding you would be more counterproductive." He corrected. "You've been scolded many times before and you continue your bad habits. Only when we get to the root of your behavior can you begin to reverse it."

He emerged from the bookshelves and handed you a beat-up copy of Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, which you graciously accepted. 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Lecter.” You said, placing your hand over your heart. "I owe you my life."

"I'd hardly equate your life to a used book, Miss [L/N]." Dr. Lecter said. "I feel like, as your therapist, we should talk about why you do."

You looked away, smiling sheepishly. "Maybe sometime in daylight. I've taken up enough of your time as it is. I'll get out of your hair now."

"It would take you more time to get back to your dorm that you could use writing." He said, matter-of-factually. "Write your paper in my office."

You looked at him in disbelief. Your judgment was clouded with energy drinks and desperation. So your usual self-sacrificing polite denial was steamrolled by a very enthusiastic acceptance. "I would be forever indebted to you, Dr. Lecter."

"Miss [L/N]," Dr. Lecter cut in. "You're a student, you need to study."

You didn’t really remember a lot of what happened after you wrapped your arms around his waist, too overwhelmed with gratitude to think if an embrace was even appropriate. It was the middle of the night, so you had an excuse if he shoved you off him. But surprisingly, he didn’t. 

You broke the embrace and gathered up your book and computer. “Seriously, I owe you big time for this. You’re really saving my life here.” 

“Go write your paper, [F/N].” He ordered. “We can discuss why you conflate your academics and your life during our next appointment. For now, make yourself at home.”

And that you did. Dr. Lecter retired back to bed and you spent a solid four hours typing away. An antique grandfather clock kept count for you. When you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, you sent the paper off to your professor, editing be damned. You let sleep compel you, comforted by the fact that you didn't have to think about your paper for at least another week before the grading period was over. 

Dr. Lecter’s desk was the most comfortable surface in the world to you that night, because you slept for six hours with only your arms as a pillow. It was the first rest your body had gotten in quite some time. You were gently coaxed awake by the smell of something delicious. 

You followed the smell into a kitchen that could rival those of Michelin-starred restaurants. Dr. Lecter was hard at work, cooking something that enticed your nose. He cracked an egg and looked up at you. “Good morning, Miss [L/N].”

“I’m sorry.” You said, shaking your head shamefully. 

“For?” He asked, fixing his attention back on his recipe.

“Falling asleep.” You dropped your shoulders.

“I told you to make yourself at home, did I not?” He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. This time, he sounded like he was actually going to scold you. “Tell me, do you sleep at your desk at home?” 

“I try not to.” You answer with a shrug. 

“But when you feel yourself falling asleep, you usually put yourself to bed, right?” He continued.

You started to feel a bit stupid. “...yeah.” 

He poked at some sausage links in a frying pan, letting out a sizzle. “You could have taken the couch.”

“I guess I was just too sleepy to think of that.” You explained, preparing to be psychoanalyzed no matter what you said.

“No, you were just too polite to push the imagined boundaries of my invitation.” He concluded, busying his hands with plating whatever it was he was making. His tone was comfortingly familiar. “Miss [L/N], don’t sacrifice your comfort for what you think I perceive to be rude. If I found you rude, you’d know it.”

"I'm sorry." You repeated.

"Don't apologize." He said, reaching for the pepper mill. "I know your anxiety disorder makes you feel like you are a burden. I assure you, you are not. I want you to know for next time that the couch is open. Or you could take the guest bedroom."

You stopped yourself before you could apologize again. You momentarily pondered what he had to say before uttering a quiet but convicted "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." Dr. Lecter slid a plate across the table in your direction. "Eat, my dear."

You didn't need to be told twice. You usually didn’t care for sausage, but reconsidered when you took a bite. The meat was so flavorful and rich, a little noise of delight escaped your lips.

Dr. Lecter smiled, your little moan sending his ego through the roof. “You like it?” 

“It’s delicious.” You put your fork down, your face flush with embarrassment. “Way better than the food at the dining hall.” 

“Miss [L/N],” Dr. Lecter began, putting an extra sausage link on your plate. “If you find yourself in need of psychology texts, I’d be happy to extend my invitation indefinitely.” 

You nearly choked on your eggs. “On god?” 

“Given that you arrive sometime before midnight and perhaps call ahead, yes.” He answered. “Your studies are your life and breath, after all. You would find yourself very accommodated to here.”

This time, you'd really take him up on his offer.

[lockley-spktr]

Start With One

Summary: Bucky’s conversation with Sam makes him think of someone who he owes an apology to.

Word count: 2,715 

Warnings: None that I know of. There is some angst if you squint, but this is mostly fluff with the start of friends to lovers.

Author’s note: This is my first time writing for Bucky. I had this idea after I watched TFATWS EP 5 last Friday. It’s been a work in progress since then. Feedback is appreciated!

Every moment that passed by standing in front of your door was agony for Bucky. 

He wasn't sure how’d you react to seeing him after all this time, especially since he had left abruptly without a goodbye or an explanation of where he was going.

Part of him felt like he was overreacting the two of you weren't dating, but you had been friends for nearly a year.

She's your only friend, your best friend. He thought.

Bucky raised his hand to knock on your door one last time, but before he could you opened the door.

When you heard the sound of knocking on your door you ignored it at first, too engrossed in an episode of your TV show. You just figured whoever it was would take the hint and go away, but they didn't. They knocked again, and again, and you realized you couldn't ignore them anymore. 

The last person you expected to see standing in front of you when you swung the door open was Bucky Barnes considering he had been MIA for the past week.

You were angry, he had you worried sick, but when you saw him in front of you alive and well, physically speaking at least, all of those negative feelings momentarily faded away.

Bucky hadn't expected you to embrace him, you could tell by the way he tensed up when you first wrapped your arms around him, but after a moment he relaxed and hugged you back. 

Honestly, you hadn't expected to hug him or for him to hug you back, but you felt a sense of relief knowing he was safe in your arms and that you were safe in his.

When you pull apart Bucky notices your expression change, he should've figured you wouldn't let him off the hook that easy.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asks.

You nod, making your way to the couch, Bucky takes the hint and follows you.

Bucky drops his backpack next to your couch, taking his gloves off as he sits down. You sit down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping a distance between the two of you.

Normally the two of you would practically sit on top of each other, sharing a blanket while you watched a movie or just talked. 

This was different though. This talk wasn't going to be like all the others. 

“It was wrong of me to leave without saying goodbye. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry.” 

“You’re right, you shouldn't have done that, but you're going to have to do a lot better than one I'm sorry.” 

“Doll, I–”

“No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to charm your way out of this one.” 

Bucky shakes his head, “I’m not trying to charm my way out of anything.“

“Then what are you trying to do?”

“Apologize.” 

You scoff, “I told you. You're going to have to do better than one I'm sorry, that won’t fix this.” 

“What can I do to fix this?”

Sighing you run your hand through your hair. You could tell that this was hard for him, you knew how guarded he was, but you thought your relationship was different, Bucky told you everything even the hard stuff. 

You knew about his time as The Winter Soldier and you didn't judge him for it, that wasn't him, you knew that. 

You trusted Bucky and you thought he trusted you, that's why him disappearing and ignoring your calls hurt so much. 

“You can start by explaining a few things to me.”

“Alright, that's fair. I do owe you a few explanations.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Bucky sighs, playing with his hands, “Where do you want me to start?”

You soften a little bit, “Wherever you want to.”

Bucky starts by telling you who he was with and where he was. He spares you the details of exactly what happened. He had a feeling a lot of it would upset you. And the last thing he wanted to do was further upset you.

There were things he couldn't shake that he wanted to tell you about like Zemo practically selling him off; treating him like he wasn't a person, and Ayo removing his arm during their fight, but now wasn't the time for all of that. Bucky wasn't even sure if he was ready to talk about how any of that made him feel. When he was ready, he'd tell you. After all, he had trusted you with everything else so far.

You didn’t have any over-the-top reactions to anything he told you. You knew he could tell you were worried and upset, but you couldn't help it. You care about him. You really care about him. 

You don't say much when he finishes explaining what happened, you just move a little bit closer to him and Bucky feels a wave of relief wash over him. You're still maintaining your distance. He knows he's not out of the woods yet. 

“Why didn't you tell me where you were going? Why didn't you say goodbye?” You ask, your voice sounds so small that it makes Bucky’s heart hurt. 

“I was scared. I didn't know what to tell you, I wanted to protect you.”

You can tell he's telling the truth. It's an innocent enough answer, but it makes your blood boil.

“The truth, you always tell me the truth,” you run your hands through your hair, “I was scared too. I went to go check on you after I saw John on the news with the shield, but you weren't there, then I called you a dozen times, and instead of answering you sent me to voicemail. I care about you. I’ve been worried sick about you for a whole week. By not telling me things and not saying goodbye to me you just made things worse.”

“I’m sorry, I really am,” he pauses, “I’m not used to people caring about me.” 

You move closer to him, “Bucky, I've cared about you since the moment I met you,” taking both his hands in yours you squeeze them, “And I will always care about you.”

Bucky smiles, it's a small one, but it's a genuine one. “I care about you too.” He looks down at your hands in his, “Does this mean we’re okay?”

You nod, “We’re okay, but if you ever disappear on me like that again we won't be, understood?” 

Bucky nods, “Understood.”

You cuddle up against him, “I missed you.”

Bucky relaxes feeling you against him, he moves his hand up and down your arm, “I missed you too.”

“Why'd you bring your backpack with you?”

“You noticed that, huh?”

You chuckle, “Kind of hard not to.”

“I came straight here from the airport. I was with Sam, his sister, and her kids in Louisiana.” 

You look up at him, “Oh, what were you doing there?”

“I went to deliver something from the Wakandans. I ended up staying there for a bit to help out with boat repairs.”

“So you and Sam are friends now?”

“We’re co-workers.”

“You're definitely friends, but okay Bucky, whatever you say.” 

That makes Bucky laugh. Yeah, they were friends now, but he wasn't going to admit that to you or Sam for that matter. 

“Why'd you come straight here from the airport?” 

“Sam and I had a talk. He said something that wasn't about you, but it got me thinking about you. And I told you, I missed you. I wanted to see you.” 

“What did Sam say?” 

“We were talking about my list amends, he told me I was avenging rather than amending–”

You cut him off, “He's right about that.”

“Yes, Doll, I'm aware of that now.”

“As long as you're aware, keep going.” 

“He told me I have to be of service to the people I'm trying to make amends with. I need to make them feel better and bring them closure.” 

“He's also right about that, but how did that get you thinking about me? You didn't wrong me or anyone I know as the Winter Soldier.”

“I know that, but I owed you an apology and clarity about where I ran off to without saying goodbye,” he pauses looking down at you, “And to be fair you were on my mind the whole time I was gone. You're the most important person in my life, you know that, right?”

You nod, “Now I do. And I appreciate your apology. I know that coming here to have an uncomfortable conversation wasn't easy for you. You've come a long way and I'm proud of you.”

Bucky shakes his head, “I haven't come that far.” 

You sit up and face him, “Don't do that.” 

“Don't do what?” 

“Put yourself down like that. You have come a long way. You should give yourself credit for that.”

“Sometimes it doesn't feel like it.”

“Hey, I know that sometimes your thoughts aren't your friends and your brain feels like your own worst enemy, trust me, I do, but those negative thoughts are lying to you,” you hold his hands, “You're a good man Bucky, you deserve to be happy, have moments of calm, and have a good life.”

“Doll, I've done terrible things.”

“That wasn't you, you know that. You didn't have a choice, you weren't in control.”

“But I remember all of them, I have memories of that time of my life.”

“So? That doesn't mean that was you. Bucky, what you experienced was traumatizing. You aren't just going to forget that time of your life even though you weren't the one in control,” pausing you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, “Let me ask you this, do you want to do any of what he did back then now?”

Bucky shakes his head, “No of course not.” 

“You wouldn't do any of that now when you have control of your mind, so that means that isn't who you are. You aren't the Winter Soldier, you're James Bucky Barnes.”

“I don't know who James Bucky Barnes is anymore.”

“Who do you want him to be?”

“What?”

“You’re free to be whoever you want to be now, James Bucky Barnes gets to be whoever you want him to be. You don't have to answer my question out loud, just answer it for yourself, you're the only person who needs to know the answer.”

“Sam told me that I have to stop looking at other people to tell me who I am.”

You smile, “I gotta meet this Sam guy, he seems like he's pretty smart.”

Bucky laughs at that and rolls his eyes.

“He's right though. If you keep looking at others to tell you who you are you won't ever truly know who you are.” 

Bucky sighs, “I know, Doll, I know.”

“Why don't you try going on some more dates? Put yourself out there, Ya know? It might be a good way to meet new people and learn more about yourself in the process.” 

It pained you to say that, but if anybody deserved to be with somebody it was Bucky. Although you couldn't deny that you'd like to be that somebody. The thought of losing him hurt too much, you decided that his friendship was enough, you just wanted to keep him in your life.

Bucky groans, “You know I hate those dating apps.”

You roll your eyes letting out a soft chuckle, “I never said you had to use a dating app. You could just go out and meet someone in public, Ya know like you used to do back in the day?”

“You did not just “back in the day” me.”

“Oh yes, I did.”

“That's a low blow.” 

“Sorry old man, I can't resist sometimes,” you nudge his leg with yours, “Seriously, anyone would be lucky to go on a date with you, I meant what I said earlier, you're a good man.”

Bucky shifts in his spot so he's fully facing you, he holds your hands and brushes his thumb over your knuckles,  just like you did for him moments ago. 

You can tell he wants to say something, he's got that look on his face. You noticed he had shifted in his spot, he had fully opened up to you physically, but still, he wasn't saying anything. 

“What is it, Bucky?”

“Why don't we go on a date?”

Looking at him your eyes go wide, you hadn't been expecting him to say that, “What?”

Your voice was soft, Bucky could tell his question surprised you. In all fairness, it had surprised him too. There had been a few times where he almost asked you out, but he never did. He was always too scared to go through with it.

He didn't want to ruin your friendship, he didn't want to lose you. So Bucky never said anything at all, he always told himself that his friendship with you was enough and it was, but he wanted more. 

The only person Bucky wanted to go on a date with was you.

“Y/N, I like you, I want to take you out on a date.”

The smile on your face reaches your eyes. Bucky swears his heart is about to burst.

“Really? You like me?” You ask in disbelief and Bucky can't help the laugh he lets out at that as he nods, “Yes, really, I like you.” 

Now you're laughing, full of joy as you wrap your arms around him, the position is awkward since the two of you are still seated on the couch, but neither you nor Bucky care.

“I take it that the feeling is mutual?” Bucky asks, his voice is playful, but you can hear the serious tone that's underlying. 

You pull away from him, that smile still on your face, “Yes Bucky, it is.” 

“So you're going to let me take you out on that date?”

“Of course.”

“Where do you want to go?” He asks.

“That's up to you to decide.” You answer snuggling up to his side again, Bucky wraps his arm around you and you feel him relax.

“Why do you want me to decide?” He asks.

“Because you can.“

It's a simple answer, but it holds so much weight. Both of you know that.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while after that. Bucky’s moving his hand up and down your arm. His hand is warm and his touch is soft. 

After a while Bucky breaks the silence, clearing his throat as he looks at his watch, “Doll, it's late. I should go.” 

You look up at him, “You don't have to go. You can stay if you want to.”

Bucky looks down at you, “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah. We can sleep in my bed or we can sleep on the couch, it might be a little bit more firm than my mattress.” 

“I don't think we’ll fit comfortably on the couch. I don't want you to be uncomfortable because of me.”

“Bucky, you could never make me uncomfortable. And the couch pulls out into a bed. The mattress isn't all that great, but it's certainly better than the floor. Although if you wanted me to I would sleep on the floor with you.”

“I know you would but the couch is fine, I promise.”

You get up and extend your hand to him, “Come on, help me set up.”

Bucky doesn't say anything, he just takes your hand with a smile on his face getting up off the couch. 

The two of you have the pull-out bed set up in no time. You go into your room to get pillows, while Bucky makes himself comfortable on the bed. 

A few minutes go by before you make your way back into the living room, putting the pillows on the bed you look down at Bucky, “Do you need anything before I lay down?” 

Bucky shakes his head, “Just need you.”

You laugh shaking your head. There it is, that charm. 

Once you're under the covers you look up at him, “Hold me, please?” 

“‘Course.” 

Bucky rests his chin on your head and wraps his arms around you.

“You’re warm,” you mumble into his chest causing him to chuckle softly, “I’m glad you're here, Bucky.”

“I’m glad I’m here too, Doll.”

[cafeinthemoon]

The Home I Crave - Chapter XV

Chapter: 15/?

Wordcount: 2900

Title: Hand Signs

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: Tobirama Senju X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14

Symbols: ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warning (s): none

N. A.: Yeah I think I owe you apologies for taking this long to post this chapter, but here it is, finally! I was feeling so upset and guilty for not writing as much as before, but it's simply because I haven't had time to sit down and work on my stories. These days have been rough 😣

You didn’t remember well how things happened after the man left your door. You only remembered seeing Tobirama turning to you and saying something, trying to raise his voice above the storm’s sounds, but it wouldn’t let you understand the exact words. You probably stood up and took the first clothes you could find, but you weren’t sure how; even less passable of an explanation was how your husband could find time to put his full armor before you two left the room, all your package except for the weapons being abandoned there as well as your hopes of having at least one pacific night before going back on your journey.

Somehow you reached the first floor, from where the people of the tea house were trying to leave as fast a possible. The ninjas you saw when you arrived at the place came to speak to you. They were in three.

You two turned to them and the one who seemed to be the leader of the group introduced himself:

- I am Yuuta from the Land of Wind– and turning aside to indicate his partners – These are my brothers, Yuji and Yoko. We understand that you two are shinobi like us. We’ve heard about the ditch and thought we could work together to help the people who live here.

There was no time to think about the strangeness of the situation or to have suspicions about the group. You felt a sort of regret for the bad impression you had of them at first, because they seemed to be honest people now that you paid close attention to them.

Apparently Tobirama had the same opinion, judging by his response when he spoke for you two.

- We are shinobi from the Leaf Village. I am Tobirama Senju and this is my wife, Y/n from the … clan. We are going to the village near this tea house to help the people there.

- I am used to work in rescuing missions and it would be of great help if some of you came with me – you completed.

Yoko, who was the only woman among them and seemed to be the youngest sibling, replied that she had experience in rescues too. You and the three ninjas had a quick conversation and it was decided that Yuuta and Yuji were going to help the people of the inn while you and Yoko were going to the village. However, when Yuuta asked Tobirama to stay at the inn with him and his brother, the Senju refused.

But it was the explanation given by him for such refusal that left everyone stunned.

- I will be more useful if I’d go with the women because I have a plan to stop the flood. However,I need to see the territory to make sure it will work.

The entire group stared at him in silence, but none of them dared laugh at him or question his attitude: it was clear that Tobirama was not joking, neither he was the type who needs to justify himself to others, even more if he just met them. That was not a man one wouldn’t take seriously. You yourself were caught in surprise, but you had the same reasons as the others to keep quiet as well.

In the end, Yuuta and the others nodded and the group was divided and you three were running toward the small village that was said to be near the tea house.

***

Now that you had some time to pay attention to your thoughts, you were running without talking, trying to process everything that was said during the conversation with the three shinobi of the Wind. So, Tobirama had a plan to help the villagers – perhaps a plan that started to take form when you were still in the inn’s room and your husband was talking to the man at your door – but whatever he wanted to do, it sounded absurd even to his standards. You started to think if all the Senju people were like him or if he was the one who differed from the rest of the clan.

Above these valid questions, an intrusive thought that you’ve been trying to suppress just took over your mind: you couldn’t forget the involuntary way in which you turned your head away from the group when you heard him introduce you as his wife. If that situation happened just a few days before you’d surely be irritated: he haven’t done anything that served as a proof that he acknowledged you as his spouse, so why would he call you his wife in front of those strangers? Well, after the things you’ve been through in that journey, it didn’t seem appropriate for you to just get angry. The truth was that you didn’t know how to feel about it.

If things stopped at this, you would be okay. Problem was that it didn’t: soon, you were remembering the dream you had just before the knocks on your door woke you up. The strangest part of it was that you weren’t sure of when exactly you fell asleep – was it before or after the… kiss? You firmly believed it was before. Just the diligent manner in which he left your side on the bed to answer the door showed that the kiss was not real. It couldn’t be.

But it felt so real. Almost as if you’ve been wanting it for days. Thinking of this made your face warm up despite the cold drops of rain falling on it.

Yoko’s voice brought you back to the present moment, among the sound of the raindrops on the trees above and the soaked soil swallowing your feet.

- Y/n-san, do you know this village? – she was asking – Any information about its geography can be useful for us to form a rescue plan!

You took a second to understand what she was saying under that storm, but once you did you tried as best as you could to explain that you’ve never been at the village.

- I’ve been in that tea house before, but I’ve never visited the village itself! I don’t know what we’re going to find there!

- So what now? – there was preoccupation implied in her tone.

- Supposing that the village’s territory is similar to the inn’s, with a flat ground and enough open space, things can be a bit easier – you knew it was a shot in the dark, but you wanted to avoid causing desperation in your new partner – It means that its people have a good chance to escape just by running. I’m a Doton user. I can stay behind and build barriers to delay the flood while you lead the way for them!

Fortunately for you, Yoko agreed with your suggestion.

- Right!

However, that was not the end of the conversation or your worries. The girl didn’t forget that Tobirama took a difficult – almost impossible –task for himself that would separate him from the rest of you, and decided to question him about it.

- And what about you, Tobirama-san? – she spoke to the man who was slightly ahead of you – What exactly are you going to do?

Tobirama replied your question as if the answer was something obvious.

- I am going to check the flood’s path and think of a way to stop it.

You opened your mouth and the storm drops that entered it almost made you gag.

- Listen, I know you are a master of Suiton, but I think that’s a bit extreme!

That time he looked at you while speaking.

- I do not plan to use mere Water Style to solve this, y/n-san. I will explain when we get there!

***

The village, just as the inn’s owner informed you, was so close to the tea house that you reached it in less than two minutes.

It was smaller than you imagined, though. It was formed by one large, main street that had its lines defined by groups of small, modest houses on both sides. These houses had their doors and windows all open, and the villagers were reunited outside them.You didn’t need to look for too long to see terror in their eyes. An old man was holding his cane so tight that his fingers were becoming pale; no so far from him, a woman was trying to calm down a child crying and asking what why was everybody so scared. Others were trying to run with packs on their backs, trying to reach the grove’s path. Among all those people there were some animals, faster than their owners in leaving the place to hide among the trees.

Tobirama, you and Yoko looked at each other but didn’t say anything. You just walked ahead and when the people noticed your presence, they opened the way for you without questioning your reasons to come. You knew what this reaction meant: it only showed how rare was for them to see shinobi in their territory.

Before any of you could ask who was in charge there, a man ran toward you, screaming:

- Who sent you three? The village is doomed! Soon this place is going to be under water!

You asked if anyone was missing.

- No, we are all here – the man replied – Except for Toji, who ran to the inn to alert the people there.

You were thinking of what to say in response when Tobirama took a step toward him and spoke in his commanding voice:

- We are shinobi from Konoha and we’re here to stop the flood! – and elevating his voice for the others to hear – All of you! My partners, y/n-san and Yoko-san, will guide you through the grove! Our other friends will meet your group in the middle of the way and help you! Do as they say and everyone will be safe!

You didn’t know it was possible for someone to obtain such power of influence on people they didn’t even know in so little time until you saw the people’s reaction to your husband’s words. Once they heard his voice, they gathered around him, their desperation soon replaced by a serious attention; they stopped pushing and stumbling on each other he gave his instructions. Their eyes turned to you then, and you did your best to calm them down: as your experiences in rescuing missions told you, that was the crucial moment when you had to make sure the victims would trust your leadership.

- Prioritize the women, the children and the elderly! Those ones who can carry children, do it! Do not take unnecessary weight with you! Follow the same direction and do not push each other! Yoko-san will go ahead of you, and I will be right behind you!

You pointed the grove’s path and felt relieved when you saw the people obeying your command. With words like “Do not look back” to the people, you went to the end of the line and saw Tobirama going to the end of the street, now empty. Instead of staying with the last people of the group, you followed him. You needed to ask what exactly he was going to do, because yes, you already knew he had an established plan, but you would feel safer if he shared its entirety with you.

Before you could say something, he turned and asked you:

- Y/n-san, do you have any Doton technique that is able to open a large crack or a ditch in the soil, one that could divide this ground from side to side?

You swallowed your surprise for receiving this very specific question and said that yes, you knew such technique. As well as its level of danger.

- Of course. But this is not a simple technique. It requires great quantity of chakra and might not work well if you’re not familiar with it. The ditch could end up not being deep or large enough.

Your reasons apparently were not enough to scare the Senju, however.

- Do not worry about it. This is exactly what I need right now. Tell me the signs.

You swallowed and told him the signs. His eyes followed your movements without blinking, and when you finished he thanked you with a nod. He made the signs of his Shadow Clone technique and created two other versions of him, each one with a pair of kunai that carried the mark of his Hiraishin. He also marked the Clones themselves with the seal.

As if he understood that you wouldn’t leave until he said something, he didn’t deny an explanation of his plan.

- Me and these two Clones are going to take positions at the points where the flood is going to pass. Each of us are going to use your jutsu to open ditches on the ground. They will contain part of the water and diminish its force. If it shows to not be enough to completely stop the flood, it will at least minimize the destruction in the village’s ground.

So he was really going to try what you suspected: to stop the water all by himself. Within the little time you had at the moment, you thought of it. If this have happened just a few days before, the first and only thing you’d think would be how ambitious, even pretentious of him to try such plan without help. But now that you’ve seen a bit more of Tobirama, something like that coming from him didn’t sound so absurd. No, it was exactly the kind of thing you should expect. You also remembered when he manifested an interest in seeing that village’s structure when you were talking to the inn’s owner. Of course: he lived in a village, one that he helped to build and worked to protect. It was only natural for him to be willing to do something for the people of this one when it was in his power to do it.

You stood for a moment.

- Tobirama.

That was the first time you called him by his name. It was enough to make him turn to you again; his Clones followed his move.

- If your plan doesn’t work as you expect, do not stay here.

There was no disdain for your preoccupation in his reply. Still, the respect for your worries didn’t stop him from exposing his belief in the plan’s success and reminding you that you didn’t know everything he could do. Not yet.

- It will work. Thanks to your technique.

And without waiting for a response from you, he turned to his Clones and sent them ahead. They used their kunai and teleported themselves to somewhere out of your sight.

***

When you went back to the group of villagers and explained your husband’s idea to Yoko, you sensed that she was as shocked with his plan as you were, but she was better than you in handling her surprise.

With the shock came the question you never felt you were ready to answer.

- Well, that’s an audacious thing to try. But do you trust him with this?

You nodded without thinking too much of your own fear. Yoko was not your only company; the villagers were there, looking at you – and you knew that in times like that, the wrong word could mess up with the best plans.

- I will go to the end of the line now. Just follow the plan!

The girl didn’t waste time with discussions or doubts.

- Right!

With these matters solved between you and her, you ran back to the end of the line.

But you wouldn’t stay with the people for too long. Patiently, you waited until the last villager entered the woods, far enough from the flood’s way, to go back to Yoko and talk to her apart from the folks.

- Listen. When you asked me if I trusted my husband’s plan, I said yes. And I really do. But I can’t go with you and leave him behind.

The woman’s reaction was nothing like you expected when you said that. Instead of minimizing your worries or suspecting from you, she put her hand on your shoulder, speaking in an assuring, whispered tone;

- Of course you can’t. Don’t worry. I’ve been living among men for a while. I know how stubborn they can be sometimes – she then looked over her shoulder, to a spot above, in a tree; there was a bird looking down at you, one of the species used to send messages – Besides, my brothers are close now. They can help me with the people.

You put your own hand on her shoulder to express your support and gratitude.

- Right. I’m leaving, then. Thank you.

She laughed.

- Just go!

You looked behind you, to the deep grove, eager to cross those trees again and terrified by what you could find after them. However, you were on a rescue mission, not only for the people of that village, but for him and yourself. You still had to leave that place and follow your journey; you still had to reach your family’s compound. And you wouldn’t do that if you stood there. The flood was coming. There was no time to waste.

You took a deep breath and forced your feet to move.

[mersuperwholocked-lowlife]

Not Blood But Family

Word Count: 1,922

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (brief), Sam Winchester (mentioned), OC Character, Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, some slight fluff

A/N: me: hey i should post at least once a week   also me: hey guys i’m back from a random ass hiatus

A/N 2: enjoy the dog poop

A/N 3: lisa’s daughter btw

Masterlist

You shot your eyes around the darkened room, squinting as you tried to make out any figure, seeing if there was anyone who was being held captive with you. Unfortunately for you, you were all alone. You could barely make out the bruises on your wrists, the rope burns caused by being tied up for days. 

“Hey!” you yelled.

“Hey! I know you can hear me! What the hell do you want from me?!” you screamed as loud as you could, more annoyed than scared.  

Ever since you found both your mother and younger brother dead, you’d given up any emotion you could show, mainly numb inside.  

“Ugh,” you groaned softly, laying your head back against the wall as you leaned against it, closing your eyes for a moment. 

Everyone always warned you, don’t hitchhike, and now you’ve learned your lesson.

---

“Did you just take a picture of me?” you squinted your eyes, sitting chained up to a chair as you saw a bright light flash.

“Freak,” you scoffed.

He ignored your comments, grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling it up as you grunted, clenching your jaw.

 He just chuckled, pushing you back. You could feel the blood trickling from your forehead as you breathed heavily.

“If you’re trying to sell me, no one’s gonna buy me. I’m a pain in the ass,” you struggled against your chains.

You were met with a blank expression from the man, having not said a single word to you. 

“If you’re planning on killing me, at least give me the decency of some good conversation,” you laid back in your chair.

You heard his phone ring as he turned his back to you, picking it up.

“Yes, sir. I have (Y/N) with me. I’ve sent a picture to you to send to Dean Winchester,” you poked your head up, hearing an unfamiliar name before be hung up.

“Who’s Dean Winchester,” you asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough... or not,” he shrugged.

You could feel a slight panic in your chest as you stiffened, seeing him walk towards you while clutching a knife.

“Keep that away from me,” you tried and tried to pull your chains, trying to stay away as he grabbed you, pressing the knife against your shoulder.

“Let's have some fun.”

---

“Hey. Hey!” you groaned as you squinted your eyes, hearing someone calling your name in a distance.

“Wake up, (Y/N), please,” you felt him out a hand on your shoulder, cutting open the ropes tying you down.

“Hmm, who are you?” you winced softly, your body ached from all the miniature cuts all over it.

“I’m… I’m here to help,” Dean said. He debated whether or not to tell who he was, pushing your arm around his shoulder.

“How do you know who I am?” you groaned. You blinked your eyes, fading in and out of consciousness.

“Just stay quiet. Come on,” you breathed heavily as you took a step forward, falling onto him completely.

“(Y/N)?!”

---

“Holy shit!” you groaned, sitting up in the bed as you looked around cautiously.

“(Y/N),” you tensed slightly as Dean wrapped his arms around you tightly.

You felt a sense of relief washing over you, feeling a safety that you haven't felt in a long time as you exhaled softly.

“W-Wait, who are you?” you asked.

He stood up, sitting in front of you at the side of your bed.

“You don't remember me, but I knew your mom, a-and your brother,” your face dropped, frowning as you scooted a little away from him.

“Who are you,” you asked again.

“My name is Dean Winchester,” he said.

You thought back for a minute, trying to think where you heard that name before.

You remembered, hearing the man saying his name.

“That… guy mentioned you,” you started.

“Well, I have some bad blood with his boss and they were trying to use you to get to me,” he explained.

You stayed quiet for a moment, before talking again.

“Why me? I don’t even know you,” you shook your head.

His face dropped slightly, looking at you as you ran your fingers through your hair, slightly nervous.

“My friend is coming, everything will be cleared up, okay?” Dean asked.

You nodded, wrapped your arms around your legs as you exhaled sharply, laying your head on your lap.

You heard the noise of something fluttering, as you frowned, looking up. You jumped back, seeing a man appear in front of you.

You could feel your heart racing as the man reached two fingers on your forehead, his eyes glowing blue.

You felt a sense of warmth over you, feeling warmth in your body as it healed. You gasped softly, seeing visions with Dean inside your head. Everything from the years that past came back to you as you pulled away from Castiel, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Dean,” you remembered.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he took a step forward, walking to you.

You shook your head, stepping backward. He turned his head to the side, slightly in shock.

“You’re Castiel,” you said.

“So then where’s Sam,” you asked softly.

“Sam’s at this place we live at. This bunker,” Dean replied.

You continued to stand there quietly, running your fingers through your hair as you turned your head away from Dean.

“I heard that… Lisa’s gone,” you tensed as your mom’s name fell from his mouth.

“Yeah, so is Ben,” you kept your emotions of both anger and grief hidden.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry-” he started.

“Shut up,” you glared at him.

“(Y/N), I-” he tried to speak again, only for you to cut him off once more.

“I said shut up, Dean. Thanks for the help, I’ll be on my way,” you began heading for the door as Dean stopped you.

“Why are you acting like this?” he asked.

“Like what?” you rolled your eyes.

“Why are you acting so cold? So different?”  he crossed his arms.

“Don’t start with me, Dean,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

Dean motioned to Castiel, telling him to leave as he nodded.

“What happened?” he asked.

“What happened? My family is dead, Dean,” you spat.

“I know, I-I’m sorry-” 

“Saying sorry won't bring them back. It was your choice to leave, you had to know that this was a possibility,” you crossed your arms as you glared at Dean.

“The only reason I left was because I wanted to keep the three of you safe. I couldn't have done that if you guys were with me,” he tried to explain while you kept ignoring his words.

“You don't owe me an explanation. You’re not my dad you don't owe me anything,” you could see the look in his eyes fade away.

“I know I’m not your real dad, but that doesn't mean we're not family,” he started.

“You're just a guy that lived with us for a year, who had a past,” you knew you were hurting him, and hurting yourself while at it. 

You couldn't let your guard down and you knew it. Even if Dean was there for you when you needed someone the most, when you had boy problems, school problems, things somehow your mom didn't understand, he always helped you. With all the late nights you spent crying, trying to convince yourself that you don’t need help, he was always there by your side. 

Not that you would ever admit that. Dean was the only person your mom dated who cared about you and Ben.

“You know that it’s deeper than that, (Y/N). I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I erased your memory of me. I was just trying to keep you safe,” he said.

“Stop apologizing,” you shook your head.

“Will you come back with me?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“W-What?” you were slightly taken aback by his question, not sure why you were so surprised.

“We have a home now. A sort of home, it’s a bunker. But we live there, and there's more than enough room for you to live with us,” he explained.

“Are you… even after everything I just said?” you frowned.

“Yes. You're still 17, you still, technically need a legal guardian. I know that you’re not happy with me, but I’m gonna fix that. Come live with us,” he said.

“What if I say no?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I know you’re not going to. You hate being alone,” he replied.

“I’ve been alone for a year, I can-”

“I’m sorry you had to be alone for so long. Please, come with me,” he begged again.

You could feel your eyes watering slightly as you frowned, biting your lip nervously.

“Dean, please stop,” you wiped your face with your hands, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath.

“Stop what?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“Why do you care about me?” you whispered softly.

“What do you mean?” he crossed his arms, taking a step closer to you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red and watery as his face dropped.

“I’m not… I’m not your kid o-or anything, why do you always try to take care of me?” you closed your eyes, feeling a tear escape down your cheek.

“(Y/N), listen to me,” he put his hand on your cheek, wiping your tear away. 

“I know I’m not blood, kid, but I’m still your dad, you’re still my kid. Nothing’s gonna change that, no matter what. I love you so much, kid. I’m still your family and you’re still mine. I would never leave you, I-I would never hurt you,” he continued to stroke your cheek, while you kept your tears at bay.  

“My real dad didn’t want me,” you whispered.

“That’s cuz he’s an idiot. Come here,” he wrapped his arm around you tightly as you shut your eyes, letting your tears fall freely while you let out a shaky cry, holding onto him tightly.

He kissed your forehead softly, then rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“I got you, you’re safe now,” he said softly.

“You’re okay now.”

---

You shot up in your bed, looking around cautiously as your breathing was labored. You looked around, before remembering that you were at the bunker as you let out a breath of relief. 

Maybe I should tell Dean

No stop bothering him and just try to sleep

Nightmares weren’t uncommon for you, whether it was about Lisa and Ben, or about any event that happened to you in the past year. You were alone, nothing was ever easy, and most people were the absolute worst. 

You found yourself trying to stop your hands from shaking as you rested your head on your lap, hearing the door open as you looked up.

“Dean?” you asked. 

“What are you doing up? I thought you went to sleep hours ago,” he sat down next to you on the bed. 

“Well, I did, it’s just…” your voice drifted off, trying to figure out how to explain your nightmares without Dean having pity on you. He already gave you a home, a place to feel safe.

“Your nightmares?” he asked.

“How did you know?” you frowned.

“Because it’s normal. Come on, I’m staying with you tonight,” he laid down in the bed, wrapping his arm around you in a protective manner. 

You yawned softly, snuggling up into Dean’s side as you closed your eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep. 

“Thank you, Dad.”

Dean smiled softly, kissing your forehead.

“Anything for you, kiddo.”

[cryoaquila]

the cost

prompt; you see something you weren’t supposed to see...

pairings; tartaglia x gn!reader

themes; established relationship, genshin universe, death (no major characters), descriptive death, blood, angst, break-up.

wc; 2k

you were in over your head, but that realization came far too late. now, every little sound, like the creek of your house or the sounds of people walking outside or the knock at your door like the one you just heard all cause your heart to skip a beat. you peek through your window, something that had become custom for you, and there he was; tartaglia was standing at your door, waiting for you to answer and explain to him why you’ve been avoiding him. as you look him over you notice he’s wearing a sorrowful expression, but your eyes could not unsee his expression before, the one you saw during the 'accident’, as you refer to it. it was a terrible event you wish you could forget or not care about, but no, instead it changed your relationship with him forever.

the ‘accident’ occurred at his house. he wanted to treat you to a nice dinner out and asked you to come by his place in the evening. having gotten ready a little early, you decided that you’d just go to his house to hang out before the date. but as you approached you noticed his front door was slightly ajar and you heard angry yelling coming from inside that made you both curious and fearful. you hurried up the steps and let yourself in, your mind racing with possibilities from the tame to the quite imaginative. the entrance hallway was dark save for a light shining from the dining room all the way toward the back of the hall. quietly, you walk over to peer into the dining room, pressing yourself against the wall to stay in the shadows. tartaglia was sitting in one of the dining chairs, dressed and ready for the date tonight, but there was someone else in the room that you had never seen before. a man, who was pacing around the table, dressed in black and red and wearing a mask, muttering about something. it was strange, while you’ve never seen him before, his clothes looked… familiar as if you saw them once stuffed somewhere in the back of a closet or drawer. your train of thought ended as the man began to yell once more.

“you can’t just vanish without saying a word and expect us to accept it without consequence. you know how our organization deals with deserters.” 

“i know how your organization deals with people who want to leave, too.” tartaglia scoffed at him before letting a sigh out, resting an arm on the table beside him, “i can do what i wish, my past ranking should allow that much.”

“but why leave? you were at the top of your game and you loved what you did, i don’t understand.”

“i owe you no explanation,” he replied coldly.

“then,” the man in the mask muttered, “let me show you what we owe you.” suddenly, the gleam of a dagger appeared from one of his pockets. you reached out a hand, about to say something, but it was too late. he lunged at tartaglia. you gaped, watching as he skillfully jumped up from the chair before you could even get a single word out. the candlelight flickered as the dagger slammed into the back of the wooden chair, getting stuck. tartaglia grabbed the chair before the other man could retrieve his weapon, and, in one swift motion, he slammed the chair into his attacker before taking the dagger for himself. he threw the chair at the masked man who staggered backward against the wall behind him. the masked man managed to punch tartaglia in the face as a last defense, but this only made him stagger sideways a little. he looked back up, a smirk on his face, and you heard him chuckle, almost as if he enjoyed the futile effort of his attacker. you slapped your hands over your mouth, trying to hold back your scream as, before your eyes, tartaglia stabbed the man directly in his throat without hesitation. you watched in horror as the attacker’s body spasmed for a few seconds along with a horrendous gurgling sound that scarred your ears. he clawed at the dagger impaling him, desperate, but tartaglia didn’t let go and instead his grip on the weapon only seemed to tighten. you continued to watch in horror as the life left the masked man’s eyes and his body went limp. once he made sure the man was dead, he yanked the dagger out, blood splattering across his attire and pooling on the floor below.

“damn,” he muttered as the body fell to the floor with a loud thud, “what a mess this was.” you swallowed hard before taking a few small steps backward toward where the front door was, wanting to leave without alerting him but unable to take your eyes off the scene before you. a small creek from the floorboards echoed from one of your steps and you paused, noticing that he was now looking toward the hallway you were in. he held the dagger out in your direction and asked, “who’s there? come out, or do you not want to die like your ally here?” that’s when you saw his expression. he had a small grin on his uncaring and unafraid face and he looked strangely determined, as if he was ready to stab the next person who dared confront him without any mercy. and his eyes. dear archons, his eyes were that of a killer’s - not the wide bright blue eyes that you were used to seeing. you were sure if you stayed, if you showed yourself, he’d act without thinking and that single thought sent a shiver down your spine. with your heart now racing your flight instincts kicked in and you turned and booked it out of his house and headed back to lock yourself inside your own home, terrified of what you witnessed him do and terrified of… well, him.

that was the reason you had been avoiding him for a while and, currently, why you weren’t keen on opening the door. he knocks again and you see him roll his eyes as you duck back down. “hey, i’m worried about you. i haven’t seen you in weeks, just, talk to me? please?”

you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him, even though you wanted to. you rise to your feet, letting out a shaky sigh before heading to the front door. you crack it open only a tiny bit, enough to show him that you were somewhat alright. you decide to rip the bandage off and confront your fears and let him know what the issue was, “i saw.” was the first thing to come out of your mouth.

“you saw?” he pauses to think over your reply before responding quicker than you expect, “oh. you mean... that day, before our date...? you weren’t supposed to see that...” he stayed silent for a few moments before trying to justify himself to you, “it was nothing but self-protection, i didn’t want to harm him.” he connected the dots so easily, you wondered if he had expected that you saw what happened but hoped you hadn’t. at the very least, that... uncaring killer you saw at his house was gone and the tartaglia you fell in love with was before you.

“i know it was self-protection.” although, you couldn’t help but feel like a part of him took a little joy in killing that masked man - a mixture of self-protection and a liberating form of pleasure seemed more like it to you. “who was he?” it was difficult to even look at him, afraid that the next time you glance up he’d be covered in blood with a dagger in his hand.

“he was an old... colleague from a past i’m not happy with, but that doesn’t matter right now. i don’t understand why you avoided me if all i did was protect myself. it’s not like i was in the wrong.”

“no, you weren’t in the wrong.” you shake your head, “but i’m so afraid of seeing someone die like that or... seeing you kill like that again. you did it so easily, without a second thought, even when he lost his weapon. and how you looked when you did it.” you notice he flinched as soon as you said that. “what... did you do before i met you?” your voice was barely a whisper at this point.

he put a hand on his chest, “what you saw wasn’t me, or, i mean, isn’t what i want to be anymore. it’s just... an after affect, i guess, but i’m done with that life. however, if death is the cost of protection, i’d rather the death be someone else’s than yours or mine.”

“no! i don’t want there to be any more death. yours, mine, theirs, a stranger’s, i can’t...” you mutter in a shaky tone, resting your forehead against the cold door in-between the two of you. your words were jumbled together, your thoughts equally so. 

he leans to the side, trying to get a peak of you, his face distraught, “that... might not be a possibility. this organization i used to be a part of doesn’t look kindly on deserters like me. that’s why i didn’t mention it to you, i know you aren’t used to... such a lifestyle since you’ve lived in town your whole life. but that doesn’t matter, they don’t matter. i swear, they won’t touch a single hair on your head, i’ll die before they harm you.”

tears form in the corners of your eyes, “please don’t say something like that! i can’t see you... die.” just saying the word out loud felt like you were bringing it into fruition and you can’t help but grit your teeth and hold your breath, ready for an archon or even someone lesser to come and end his life before your eyes. but nothing of the sort happens. letting out the breath you were holding, you continue speaking, your voice shakier than before, “and not just dying, i can’t handle you killing either! seeing you like that, with blood on you, ready to kill or be killed...”

he looks just as confused as you felt, “i’m sorry, i’m really, truly sorry. you weren’t supposed to ever see me like that. tell me, how can i make this right so we can be happy together once again?” his tone went from worried and confused to practically begging.

“i… i don’t think i can... i’m terrified...” you wrap your arms around yourself before muttering, “i’m terrified of you and what might happen to you.” the words felt strange to say, to be terrified of the man you once hugged and kissed freely, and now watching his hopeful expression drop off his face was not helping your own conflicting thoughts.

“no, archons no, i don’t want you to be terrified of me, i want you to see me like you used to see me and how... how i want to see myself now that i’m not with them. i love you, please i don’t want this to end, i can be good-”

“i just, i need time for myself, time away from... you. maybe that will help me come to terms with... everything? i don’t know... i just don’t know...” your head was hurting, but not as much as the ache in your chest like someone ripped your heart out.

“i…” he sighs, looking like he was on the verge of tears. he rubs his eyes, trying to keep the tears from building up, before looking back at you, completely defeated, “ok… i can give you some space if that’s what you need now.” his words cause your bottom lip to tremble.

“i think it will help me figure things out.” you try to keep your voice from cracking, but couldn’t. and his response only made your stomach churn.

“i won’t ever stop loving you, though.”

you shut your eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears from rolling down your cheeks, “... i know.” you whisper and, with that, you shut the door before letting the tears flow freely.

[yapperlesbian]

a fix-it fic/drabble (???? i might write more if people want it and post it to ao3) for acosf because i got through 7 chapters and gave up. it was that bad. i worked really hard on this so feedback is very much appreciated <3

Exiles of Light and Flame

Nesta was being sent to the human lands as punishment by her sister and her mate. No, she was being banished. Banished to a place where she was feared and forced into isolation. Her sister hadn’t even bothered to drop her off herself, she’d had Morrigan do it. The blonde hadn’t made the trip pleasant, to say the least. She knew that Lucien and his human friends had taken up residence in the area, she just didn’t expect it to be so far of a walk. Nesta rubbed her hands together to keep the biting wind at bay. Perhaps she should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

“Nesta.” Lucien greeted her with a guarded nod, stepping aside to allow her in. He didn’t ask why she was there or how she got there. He simply led her to the sitting room where Jurian and Vassa were sitting on an atrocious pink couch. The couch was gaudy and loud and unlike anything Feyre would’ve chosen to decorate with. Her lips upturned in a small smirk at the thought. Maybe a banishment to the mortal lands wouldn’t be the torture she’d first imagined.

“That’s an ugly couch. I like it.” It was the first thing she said. Blunt and rude, something her sisters found disgraceful. Jurian barked a laugh at her comment, obviously not taking it to heart. She tilted her head to the side in calculation, gauging their reactions to her presence.

“Nesta Archeron. No longer welcome among the Night Court, I presume.” Jurian was more perceptive than he let on. Nesta wondered if spending all that time on Amarantha’s finger had taught him how to find hidden emotions and intentions.

She’d heard Feyre speak of the three of them before, disdain evident in her tone. Lucien and his new human friends called themselves the Band of Exiles. It was a better name than Court of Dreamers but Nesta knew better than to voice that opinion to her sister and her temperamental mate. Sometimes she forgot that her sister had once been human. That she had once been human. That life seemed so far away now, not that it was only two years prior.

“Do I get a room?” Nesta had decided she’d stay awhile, if they’d have her. Though she was fairly certain none of them actually owned the home they were residing in. Jurian and Vassa exchanged a look, with each other and then Lucien. Lucien who had only said one word to her, her name.

“I’ll show you to it.” He finally breathed, his auburn hair resembling living flame beneath the faelight. He wasn’t what she expected, what she remembered. His steps weren’t deep and commanding like the Illyrian males of her sister’s new family, instead they were quiet and calculated. She followed him silently, unbothered to find conversation to fill the silence.

Nesta nodded a thanks as she entered her new room, shutting the door and catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She ran a finger through her long hair, it surprisingly still holding a semblance of shine despite her horrid eating habits. It was the High Fae genes she now had that kept it so. Her pointed ears came into view, a stark contrast to the ears she had grown up with. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to them, to her new body. Nothing felt like it was her own anymore, especially not the power she’d stolen and kept buried deep inside. She needed a change, something to take control of.

~

It was Jurian who found her digging around in the kitchen searching for scissors, arriving just in time to see her hold them up triumphantly. He chuckled at the sight, his eyebrows raised in question.

“I’m cutting my hair.” Nesta explained, not that she owed him an explanation. She didn’t owe explanations to anyone. Her sister and her husband didn’t agree with that sentiment. Hence, her banishment. “Well, I was going to ask Vassa to do it. I saw that she cut hers.”

“I cut her hair.” Jurian corrected, holding his hand out for the scissors. Nesta clutched them closer, unsure at the prospect of the former general cutting her hair. “Her Majesty would hack your hair, you think she’s ever lifted a pair of scissors herself? There’s no one to cut hair for you on the battlefield, you learn to do it yourself.”

Nesta nodded, handing over the scissors and plopping herself into one of the dining chairs. When Jurian asked how short, she pointed to halfway up her neck. She wasn’t expecting how much lighter she felt the more he snipped away. It was like she had been tied to a weight upon the ground and she was finally freeing herself.

Elain would have fainted at the sight of most of her hair upon the floor. What Cassian would think of it briefly drifted across her mind before she shut it down. He had agreed to send her here, to uproot her small sense of normalcy and send her away. She wouldn’t forgive that. She couldn’t forgive that.

~

If Lucien was surprised at her dramatic hair change, he didn’t show it at breakfast. She was surprised at the comradarie he shared with Jurian, treating the human as an equal. She still remembered how her sister and her court had looked down upon her when she was human, how they still did. How they reviled her with fear and distaste. An embarrassment to our reputation, Feyre had said. As though the Night Court wasn’t already hated long before her.

“Your eggs are getting cold.” Lucien reminded her with a surprisingly warm tone, taking her out of her thoughts once again. Jurian had since left the room, something she hadn’t even noticed. She pushed around her eggs and took a small bite.

“Thank you, for breakfast and for letting me stay here.” She forced a small smile, taking another bite of the eggs before pushing the plate away. Lucien didn’t comment on her barely touched plate, he simply took it and added to the pile of dishes he was washing.

“It’s no problem, wouldn’t want you out on the streets.” Lucien shrugged as he washed the dishes, looking up to meet her eyes. The scar across his metal eye was striking in a surprisingly handsome way. It was only then that she’d noticed he had tied back half of his hair. It wasn’t a bad look on him, he almost looked relaxed. “There’s a library in the house, second door on the left from the foyer.”

The red-headed male remembered how she had spent most of her time within the House of Wind. She was so sure no one was paying any attention to her there. Although his reasons for remembering could have to do with the fact that she was often with Elain then. She nodded and headed towards the library, it was empty when she stepped inside but magically warmed like the rest of the house.

Nesta ran a finger along the spines of the books, feeling which books were more worn than others. Whoever had previously owned the home had an extensive collection. It had been a while since she had read anything, too busy trying to bury her thoughts beneath alcohol. She picked a random one with a worn spine, her dress falling over her feet as she curled up in one of the chairs.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed but soon she noticed the laughter coming from the living room. Vassa must have returned for the evening. A glance outside confirmed it, catching the end of the sunset. It was her plan to avoid her new housemates and retreat to her room but then there was a knock at the door.

Somehow the knock sounded and felt so familiar, but it couldn’t be. She hated herself a little for hoping that maybe it was the person she thought it was. That he’d come to save her. That he had defied his High Lord and decided she was worth it, even after how she’d treated him since the war.

Lucien got to the door before she could make herself move, opening it to find a broad shouldered Illyrian male. Nesta peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. When Lucien stepped aside, she saw what he was holding and the hope in her heart shattered. Cassian was here, but he wasn’t here for her. He was here to bring the last of her things and to be rid of her. Nesta didn’t need to listen to any explanations or ramblings, she didn’t have it in her. So, instead she turned her back on Cassian and walked away.