#ill-naturedly

[l45brolc7bx]

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[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance

contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !

author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎

satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.

that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.

gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!

gojoslittleslut: notice me pls

"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"

you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.

gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~

satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.

suguru-geto: he has a gf ...

gojoslittleslut: yeah

gojoslittleslut: me

you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 

satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.

eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.

toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day

inumaki: we know gtfo

gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?

toji-fushiguro: bet

"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 

satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).

your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"

satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.

he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.

satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"

"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.

"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."

[roxygen22]

SNIFFLES

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Summary: Ben/Bean (age 2) and reader (mom) are sick. Willy takes care of you both.

C/W: Illness but nothing graphic

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You hadn't experienced this level of exhaustion since Ben was a newborn. The poor dear had been down with a cold for three days now. His hacking cough and stuffy nose kept him from getting comfortable enough to rest well at night, causing him to be lethargic and clingy all day. Granted, you enjoyed the snuggles, but you would give anything to have your happy, energetic Ben back. Unfortunately, though, you caught his cold with the constant closeness.

Willy was accustomed to coming home to happy noises of reading, playing, or cooking. But on the third day of illness in the Wonka household, there was nothing but silence to greet him upon entry except the occasional sniffles coming from the study. Willy came around the sofa with a pitiful pout on his face. You and Ben were just lounging on the sofa staring at the fire. You had a book in hand, but neither of you had the energy to look at it.

"Oh, [y/n]. You, too?" Willy took in the sight of your pale skin and dark circles under your eyes as he picked Ben up from your lap. Normally very excited to see his papa, the boy just nestled his head into the crook of Willy's neck and sucked his thumb. He could feel heat radiating from the little body. Willy then gently rested the back of his hand against your forehead. "Both of you are running a fever."

"I believe it," you responded weakly after clearing your throat. "My skin hurts. I'm hot and cold at the same time, and I can't breathe through my nose. Ben hasn't been able to get comfortable all day, either."

"I'm home now, so you should go rest."

"No, I need to get dinner started," you argued while trying (but failing) to sit up on the couch.

"Nonsense. You can't pour from an empty cup, my sweet," Willy chided as he helped you up with his spare hand. "Why don't you go take a hot steaming bath while I make my mamma's soup recipe? It's sure to help you feel better." You opened your mouth to speak before he held up a finger, "Before you say it, don't worry about Bean. I've got him. Let me take care of you, too."

You conceded. You knew arguing further with Willy once his mind was made up was an exercise in futility in your current state. Most of the time, your stubborness rivaled his, but not this day. Your fatigue outweighed the guilt of temporarily relinquishing your [self-imposed] role of caretaker.

You made your way to the bath, thankful for Willy's contraption that provided hot water on demand.* Once the tub was filled, you sank down into the water with a long sigh. Your muscles protested as you went about your normal ablutions, but the steam did wonders for your ability to breathe. You felt semi-human again as you stepped out and toweled off.

Willy was a bit slow-going on the soup since one arm was busy supporting the toddler on his hip. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your boys. Their matching curly hair was in disarray thanks to the humidity from the soup. Ben looked up, alerting Willy to your presence in the kitchen with a quiet "mamma" as he reached for you. That was a rarity when Willy was home, preferring you only if he was tired or sick. Ben and his papa were as thick as thieves.

Willy turned around from the stove to look at you as he handed you the boy. "It's nice to see some color in your cheeks again, even if it's just from the warmth of the bath. Did it help?"

"A bit. I can actually breathe through my nose at the moment."

He chuckled and went back to stirring. "Good, good. Soup should be ready in a couple of minutes." You set Ben in his high chair and started to grab bowls and bread before Willy good-naturedly scolded you. "Nuh-uh. Sit." You pursed your lips and glared but complied nonetheless.

Willy set the table and dished out the soup. He scooted Ben's high chair closer to help him eat so you could focus on feeding yourself. The soup looked amazing, leaving you longing to actually be able to smell or taste it. Instead, you just enjoyed the warmth as it soothed your scratchy throat.

The family slowly ate their dinner in relative silence. Unable to smell or taste, Ben quickly lost interest and begged to be held. Willy obliged and set the boy in his lap. Having ate your fill, you pushed the bowl back and stood up to clear the table.

Willy tutted at you. "[Y/N]. I've. Got. This. Now. Go. To. Bed." Ben, however, was not ready to let you out of his sight. Reaching up to you from Willy's lap with grabby hands and pouty lip, he whimpered. Before you could react, Willy turned the boy around to face him instead. "Now Bean, Mamma takes good care of us all the time. It's our turn to take care of her. She is going to go night night a little early. You and I, little man, are going to read a story after we clean up the kitchen." Over Ben's head, you saw Willy mouth to you, "Go."

You smiled, blew a kiss, and quickly made your exit before Ben turned around. It felt deceitful, but if anyone could keep Ben distracted, it was Willy. You could faintly hear Willy bustling around the kitchen singing the clean-up song without further complaint from the boy.

Satisfied that Ben was in good hands and relatively happy, you readied yourself for bed. After two nights of interrupted sleep and a full day of fever, you were practically unconscious before your head even hit the pillow. You slept solidly for hours before you woke with a start. Why is it quiet? Where are the boys?

You tiptoed to Ben's room, avoiding the planks in the floor that tended to creak. You found Willy in the rocking chair, feet propped up and holding Ben upright on his chest so the boy could breathe freely. You picked up a blanket from Ben's bed and covered them both, taking in the sweet scene. "Rest well, my loves," you whispered before retreating back to bed.

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*Remember, Willy is an inventor, so it's totally plausible that this fictional character invented the precursor to the modern water heater, lol.

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Find more "My Little Cocoa Bean" shorts on my masterlist.

[creepswrites]

MEAT PIES (Thomas x Reader)

as a result of the poll i made, here is a lil something with Thomas Hewitt! also, this is sort of in celebration of 500 followers so thank you so much for that!! :D

Thomas Hewitt x gn!Reader (they/them)

Summary: You nodded and slipped out of the kitchen, hearing Luda May call the directions to you. Down the hall, first door on the left. Easy. The door in question was underneath a large staircase that led upstairs from the entry foyer. As you reached to open it, your hand froze on the doorknob. The sound of a revving chainsaw and screaming could be heard just beyond the door.

WARNING: 18+, violence, murder, c/nnibalism

Living in Travis County was becoming more and more difficult, particularly in Fuller. There were whispers around town that the meat processing plant had gone bad. The latest drought had caused illness in the cattle but the plant did nothing about it, continuing work as expected.

Those whispers had reached your ears almost immediately. Fuller was a relatively small town as is and the sick meat would be bad for your business.

Currently, you ran a little corner store making and selling various baked goods, though your little meat pies were especially good. Despite the town's size, you had various customers come in almost every day. When you'd first moved to town about two years ago, many of the older residents had turned up their noses when you'd continued to work on Sundays, not being particularly religious yourself.

Their attitudes quickly changed once they got a taste of your baking though.

You made various things as well, from cakes to breads to cookies. There was little you couldn't make. In summer, you'd whip up vanilla ice creams with apple cobblers and in winter you'd make warm honey and vanilla cakes. The town couldn't get enough of it.

Today was a warm day, as were most days in Texas. You'd just finished cleaning up one of the tables when you heard someone come inside. "Be right with you!" You called over your shoulder as you finished wiping down the table with a disinfectant wet wipe.

When you spun around, you smiled at a familiar face. "Hey Mrs Hewitt, how can I help ya?"

Luda May Hewitt was a regular of yours, always paying you generously to bring home some of your cakes and plates of cookies. She bought more than any other customer but you certainly weren't complaining. Sometimes she'd bring you some of her own family recipes for you to try, always looking proud when they came out a success.

You were always respectful to her, which you could tell she also appreciated. "Just here for the usual, dear." Luda May smiled at you.

With a quick nod, you slipped back behind the counter and began collecting chocolate clip cookies into a paper bag. "Did somethin' a lil different with 'em this week." You gave the old woman a secret smile. "Added a bit more salt to this batch, so let me know what ya think!"

"Ooo!" Luda May smiled. "I'm sure they'll be delicious as always. My Tommy's such a big fan of your bakin' you know."

You looked up at her, giving her a raised eyebrow. "Tommy?"

She nodded. "He works at the meat plant. Walks by your lil store every day on his way to work but he's too shy to come in, poor dear."

"I hope I don't scare him," you laughed good-naturedly as you sealed up the bag before collecting a dozen cupcakes into a paper tray. "He's welcome to come in if he wants! Can make him a hot chocolate if he shows up before openin.'"

Luda May gave you a fond look. "You're such a darlin,' don't know what angel sent ya to Fuller but I know the whole town's grateful." She paused, fidgeting with her fingers. "You heard 'bout the plant, right?" Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke.

You nodded at her, leaning closer over the counter like the two of you were sharing a dark secret over the little cakes and cookies. "Yeah, heard the meat was bad."

"Not just bad, dear." Luda May frowned. "Been stomach infections all over the country 'cause of the spoiled meat. A health inspectors comin' out this week to see."

A soft gasp left your lips and Luda May nodded sadly. "I mean... is the plant-?"

Luda May gave a wistful smile. "You've heard the rumors. I'm sure you've seen the families movin' out of Fuller this past month. Everyone's already cut their losses an' moved on."

You frowned, crossing your arms over your cool counter as the old woman opened her purse to pull out coins and bills to pay you. "What're you gonna do?" You asked her, chewing on your lip.

She looked at you with a soft look. "Don't you go worryin' about an old woman like me. I ain't last this long on pillows and cotton." She teased you, making you smile slightly. "I got my boys to look after me. We got a farm out in the country, we'll get by. I still got my job at the community center, for now."

As she slid the money across the counter and took the two bags of sweets, you gave her a polite wave. "Let me know if I can help somehow, yeah?"

Luda May just gave you a smile as she left, leaving you alone in the empty store as the bell of the door echoed emptily. You just hoped her family would be okay.

The Hewitts were a fairly reserved family but were the heart of the little community. Luda May and Charlie had a strong presence in the town and, despite the sheriff's best attempts, the town looked to the Hewitt family for advice. So you'd heard of Thomas Hewitt - Luda May's son who, according to rumors, was mentally challenged and physically disabled. You'd never met him but you'd heard stories.

You finally got to meet him just a few days after Luda May's visit.

It was early in the morning and you'd barely gotten dressed when you padded downstairs in socked feet to your little shop. You lived above the store in a small, one room apartment. It was convenient though!

A knock on the glass door confused your still-sleepy brain. You crept towards the door, unlocked it, and opened it. An enormous man stood there, staring at you with surprise. His hair was long, messy and matted, and he wore a mask over his mouth that obscured a lot of his face. You opened and closed your mouth for a minute before managing to choke out a few words. "Thomas, right?"

He nodded and you felt yourself smile. "Luda May told me 'boutcha! C'mon in," you stepped aside and shuffled back towards your coffee machine. You heard Thomas enter slowly, shutting the door carefully behind him. "You want coffee?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

Thomas looked dirty, the apron he wore stained with blood. If he didn't work at the meat plant, you would've been more alarmed. He just stared at you, unblinking. "Hot chocolate?" You tried, earning a quick nod. "Comin' right up!" You gave him a bright smile as you set about making coffee for yourself and hot chocolate for your guest.

"Luda May says you walk by my shop a lot." You hummed as you worked. "You're allowed to come in, y'know? I ain't gonna run you off."

Thomas was silent still. You got the feeling he didn't talk much. So you went into the back room as drinks brewed and opened one of your storage boxes. Despite the dusty, rough nature of the rest of the town, you prided yourself on keeping things clean and tidy. So you grabbed two cinnamon rolls and went to reheat them in the little oven.

All the while, you felt eyes on you. For some reason, you got a heavy feeling in your stomach but you pushed it down. He was strange, not dangerous.

You slid the man a mug of hot chocolate and a warm cinnamon roll across your countertop with a smile. "Yer always welcome here."

To be polite, you turned your back to him as you drank your coffee to let him take off the mask he wore to eat better. The two of you enjoyed breakfast in relative silence until, without much fanfare, Thomas stepped away from the counter and slipped out the front door, back into the Texas heat.

He was strange, without a doubt, but he meant well. It was clear Luda May adored him so he must just really be shy with strangers. You'd start stocking up more hot chocolate, despite it being summer, for if Thomas ever visited you again.

And, later that very afternoon, hundreds of men were seen leaving the meat plant. It was shut down for good by the health inspector. You watched from your windows as the angry men stormed home, yelling in protest and anger with each other.

You didn't see Thomas in the crowds though. You hoped he was okay...

With the meat plant shut down, life in Fuller came to a complete stop. Where once it had been difficult, it was now near impossible to continue living there. At least 85% of the town moved away by the end of the month, abandoning their properties or selling them. The town, effectively, shut down in a matter of weeks.

But you remained.

You didn't have anywhere to go or the means to leave. Selling the property was an option but where would you even go? You didn't exactly have a means of moving. Your little car couldn't hold all your possessions and getting a moving company to help was ridiculously expensive...

You felt trapped.

Luda May visited you late one afternoon, a sad smile on her face. "Hello dear." She said softly, the overhead bell ringing to announce her arrival.

Glancing up from the catalogue you were browsing, you smiled back. "Hey Mrs Hewitt. How can I help ya?"

She made her way up to your counter, looking down at the catalogue before looking back up at you. "The Jamisons moved away." She said softly. Your eyes widened and you straightened up. "Just this afternoon." Her voice was shaky as you reached over to hold her hands.

"I'm so sorry..." Your voice was soft as the old woman looked close to collapsing. "I know how close they were with the town, I-"

Luda May held your hands back tight. "It's been so hard, havin' everyone move away just like that. Like this town ain't worth nothin' without the meat plant." She grit her teeth against a wet sob. "My Tommy ain't got no place to work an' we- we can't leave. But if everyone else goes, what'll happen to us? What'll we do?"

You let go of Luda May long enough to slide over your counter to hug her. "I'm so sorry. I- I wish there was something I could do to help..."

She held you tight as she let herself sob. You swayed with her for a moment, trying your best to console her. "Ain't nowhere left to work in this town. We can't survive on pennies from my community center job, sweetheart. It's gettin' too hard." Luda May wept.

You felt for her, truly. "If there's anything I can do, please let me know. You an' your family have done so much for me, for the town. Least I can do is repay the favor."

Luda May pulled back slightly, wiping her cheeks. "You're too good for this world. Certainly the Lord blessed us when he sent you to this town." She sniffed once, straightening up and adjusting her glasses. "You should come on by for dinner tonight. We got guests comin' over an' I think you'd fit right in."

"Oh!" You perked up, smiling at her. "I'd love to! I've got this pie recipe I've been meanin' to try out, I think y'all will love it."

Luda May smiled and nodded along. "I got two hours left in my shift at the community center. I'll come on by and getcha after, alright?"

You nodded excitedly. "I'll get cleaned up. Thank you, I'm honored to be invited along!"

When you turned to hurry up the stairs to your little apartment, you missed the way Luda May's smile faded away. Her heart ached with remorse for what she was sentencing you to.

As she left the store, she cried silent tears for the betrayal she was about to give you.

But, as promised, Luda May came to pick you up just as the sun was going down. You'd gotten cleaned up, dressed nice in light clothing to protect yourself against the hot Texas afternoon. An airy, white and blue striped shirt with the collar pressed nicely alongside matching navy blue shorts. The boots you wore were simple and the cleanest shoes you owned.

When Luda May spotted you, smiling and waving at her as you clutched a wicker basket in your hands, she almost told you the truth. Almost made up a lie to keep you from coming over, to save you from the fate that Charlie - Hoyt, he'd insisted now - would surely sentence you to. But he'd been right. The family needed to eat.

She just wished you'd left town earlier. Packed up your cute little things into neat, nice boxes and left this shithole of a town. But no. You'd stayed because you were sweet. And you trusted her. Which only made her feel worse about putting you into this situation.

You, who had only ever been so kind and loving to her, her family, Tommy...

But she didn't say or do anything. She just smiled as you got into her old truck and drove you down the old, dirt road towards the Hewitt house. The old blue truck rattled but you were polite and didn't say a thing. You were too good for this world, in Luda May's eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be a way to save you still.

The Hewitt farm was much bigger than you imagined. The large, manor-like house lay surrounded by various barns, cattle pens, and a nearby junkyard. You didn't let it show on your face but the whole place felt... Dirty.

Like dirt caked every surface, even lightly. As though if you were to drag your fingers across anything, you'd find layers of dirt and dust left on the tips of your fingers. You suppressed a shudder as Luda May left her truck, shutting the door rather loudly. You were quick to follow her up to the big house, stumbling slightly as you hurried.

"Now, be wary of the boys. They tend to be a bit rowdy this late in the day. Once dinner rolls 'round they'll settle. If any of them give you trouble, you come straight to me." Luda May said as you approached the door.

You gave her a quick nod. "Yes ma'am."

The smile she gave you was fond but it was also... something else.

Before you could figure out what, you heard a scream. Your heart lept to your throat but Luda May took your hand in hers and squeezed. "The boys play rough. They're alright, dear." She gave you a warm look. "Lets just get inside 'n outta this heat."

You obeyed, swallowing down a sick feeling you had rising in your stomach.

The inside of the house was. Messy, to say the least. But, you had to remind yourself to be polite as you were guided from the foyer to the kitchen. Some dishes lay in the sink, making Luda May curse. "Monty!" She called somewhere into the house. "Next time ya fuckin' leave dishes in the sink, I'm havin' Tommy throw your damn truck out!"

You blinked back in shock. You'd never heard her talk like that.

A man, who you could only assume was Monty, poked his head into the kitchen. "God damn woman, ain't my job to clean the place!"

Luda May scoffed. "I pride myself on runnin' a clean house. You start undoin' my hard work an' you can sleep in the barn with the other stupid animals!" She let out a loud huff. "Where's Tommy anyway?"

Monty shrugged. "Ain't seen 'im. Might be downstairs." He looked you up and down, over and over. The gesture made you feel dirty. "You can go look for 'im while I entertain our, uh, guest."

"Absolutely not." Luda May said, scrubbing a plate with a brush. "They're my guest, you an' Charlie can keep your dirty hands off. They're the sweet baker from down the road who makes those sweets y'all like so much."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are they now? Well I'll be damned."

You flushed under all the attention, fidgeting nervously with the basket in your hands and deciding to just set in on the counter nearby Luda May. "I could, um, go find Thomas. If- if you wanted?"

Anything to get away from Monty's leering eyes.

Luda May nodded to you. "He should be down in the basement workin'. Don't mind if he doesn't hear ya, you can shout."

You nodded and slipped out of the kitchen, hearing Luda May call the directions to you. Down the hall, first door on the left. Easy. The door in question was underneath a large staircase that led upstairs from the entry foyer. As you reached to open it, your hand froze on the doorknob. The sound of a revving chainsaw and screaming could be heard just beyond the door.

The sounds of heavy footsteps on the staircase above made your stomach swoop and you quickly opened the door and slipped inside. Your breath caught in your throat as the sounds got quieter, the screams turning to gurgles and the chainsaw dying down. Fearing the worst, you were silent on the rickety, old, wooden steps that went down into the darkness of the basement.

You held your breath as you neared the bottom, looking out into the dimly lit room.

Ice-hot fear shot through you at the sight. Thomas, standing over a man's body that was strapped to a table. The chainsaw he'd used lay on a bench beside the table as he appeared to be skinning the eviscerated man laying before him.

Thomas looked up at you and you slapped your hand over your mouth to cover your gasp. Tears filled your eyes as you scrambled back up the stairs, utterly terrified. You tore open the front door and took off running, only going faster when you heard Thomas chasing you.

But he knew the land better than you.

Eventually, through all your running and hiding, you found yourself cornered in one of the large, dusty barns. The ceiling and walls were wooden and the floor was just loose dirt. You whimpered when you saw Thomas's shadow approach you, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He stood in the open doorway, meat cleaver in hand as he stared at you. You backed up until you hit the wall but Thomas kept approaching you. "Are you going to hurt me?" You choked through a sob.

Thomas froze and just stared at you. You could tell your question had surprised him but he was quick to recover. He nodded. You felt your heart sink as you slid down to the dirt floor, curling up on yourself.

You sat there, curled up in the fetal position, and began to cry openly. Thomas made a soft grunt but you couldn't hear, too busy crying. You didn't want to die, much less at Thomas's hand. He'd always seemed nice, if a bit intimidating, but you thought he and Luda May were good people.

The memory of the basement flashed in your head and you blinked up at Thomas with wet, red-rimmed eyes. He seemed to deflate then, sitting down criss-crossed in front of you, careful to keep his distance. He set the cleaver down and put his hands in his lap and just watched you.

You sniffed. "Can... can you at least do it quick?"

Thomas looked guilty as he made a grumbling noise. You wished, momentarily, he could talk to you. At least then maybe he'd tell you what he was planning to do to you. Instead, he surprised you by picking up the cleaver and tossing it further away before looking expectantly back at you.

You blinked. "You're... you're not going to hurt me?"

Thomas shook his head.

"Are..." You swallowed a thick lump that had been lodged in your throat. "Are the others...?"

That made Thomas pause. With a thoughtful look, he shook his head once before holding out his hand to you. Slowly, like you were reaching for a dog that might bite your hand off if you were too fast, you slid your hand into his.

The size difference was considerable. His hand was at least a quarter size bigger than yours, if not more, and it was rough. You knew he'd worked at the meat plant cutting up meat so of course he'd have workers hands. He gingerly ran his thumb along the back of your hand, trying to reassure you.

"You won't... let them hurt me, right?" You asked, voice low.

He nodded his head, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Whatever had changed his mind about hurting you, you weren't willing to question it. "Okay." You said softly, letting Thomas help you stand up. Your clothes were covered in dirt but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Though you did almost retch when you saw the blood on his apron.

"Tommy, where'd you-" Luda May called out, freezing when she saw you with Thomas. He still hadn't let go of your hand as he stepped in front of you with a pleading sound. Luda May's shoulders seemed to sag. "I'm sorry, dear." She looked at you with a remorseful look. "I... I was hopin' to keep you from findin' out. Charlie's been... persistent 'bout gettin' food for the family an' I had no choice."

Your mind slowly caught up to what she was saying. "You... you brought me here to... to be killed and eaten?!" Tears began falling again, streaking down your dirt-covered cheeks.

Thomas squeezed your hand again and you felt like throwing up. Luda May didn't say anything as she looked to Thomas. "Charlie'll be angry to know you're keepin' them alive. Are you sure about this?"

He nodded once, still standing protectively in front of you. As terrified as you were - of both Thomas and the entire concept of being made into dinner - you felt a bit reassured that he was set on not hurting you.

Luda May sighed quietly. "Alright. Dinner'll be ready soon. Proper meat." She shot you a reassuring look. "You two get cleaned up. Charlie'll be back soon."

Thomas tugged your hand gently, looking down at you and asking you to follow. He guided you to walk ahead of him, gently pushing you along after Luda May. You glanced over your shoulder as you walked to spot Thomas picking the cleaver back up. When he noticed your alarmed look, he quickly put it behind his back with wide eyes.

You almost laughed at the hysterical nature of it all. You were being invited to dinner - which you nearly became - and the guy who was going to butcher you was hiding the cleaver so you wouldn't be scared of him. Like you were a kid who had no object permanence.

Thomas genuinely did not want to scare you. You knew that. It didn't make you any less terrified though.

Charlie Hewitt - or Sheriff Hoyt as he was calling himself now, as you were terrified to learn he'd also killed - was currently having a fit.

When you'd come downstairs having mostly cleaned off in the bathroom, he'd spotted you quickly. When Luda May informed him you were a friend of Thomas's and definitely not dinner, he'd been enraged. He'd started throwing things around the house, yelling at Luda May and Thomas, who both stood strong. "I asked ya to find somethin' for dinner and ya bring back nothing? Just some sad lookin' baker kid who ain't worth jack?!"

Luda May glared. "You give em any trouble, I'll beat ya black and blue and make ya sleep outside, ya hear? I ain't puttin' up with your shit tonight, Charlie."

"Hoyt, it's Hoyt now!" He yelled back, smashing a plate.

"Every dish you break, you buy a new one!" Luda May yelled, smacking his arm hard.

Hoyt's eyes fell on you as he glared. When he moved forward to grab you, Thomas was quick to interfere. You ducked behind his arm as he stood between you and Hoyt. "Thomas. Move." Hoyt snarled.

But Thomas didn't budge. In fact, he looked surprised as he looked down at you clinging to his forearm, terrified out of your mind. While you were scared of everyone in the room, Thomas was the most likely to defend you and defend you hard. The cleaver he'd been carrying was laying out on the table and, while you'd known Luda May longer, you doubted she'd be able to use it against Hoyt if he came closer.

"I won't ask you again, boy," Hoyt snarled. Thomas calmly lifted Hoyt up by the collar of his shirt and threw him aside, sending the man crashing into the table with a hard tumble.

Luda May spoke up then. "That's enough!" She snapped at both Hoyt and Thomas. "You two clean up this mess."

Hoyt glared over at her. "We look after family. They," he pointed a finger at you as he stood, "ain't family."

You shared a nervous look with Luda May, who remained steady. "They may as well be. Far as I'm concerned, they're the only one who provided food for dinner tonight." She glared down at Hoyt. "While you were runnin' around playin' dress up."

Hoyt was quiet. "What'd they bring?"

"Meat pies." You said quietly. When Hoyt looked at you, you repeated yourself louder, fearing his anger. "I brought meat pies. L-lamb ones."

The room was silent. "Ya brought lamb pot pies?" Hoyt asked slowly, raising an eyebrow. You nodded frantically and he sighed. "Alright, fine, ya can stay." He grumbled, leaving the room with a huff.

You looked up at Thomas with nervous eyes. The mask he wore obscured a lot of his face but you could see his eyes. He blinked slowly, a softness there you were surprised by.

Clutching his arm tighter, you let yourself relax as Thomas stood protectively beside you. You could survive this, you thought to yourself.

You will survive this.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Get Well Soon

Poe Dameron X GN!Reader

Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Rating: T

Warnings: TYPOS, SWEARING, mentions of feeling sick, fluff, hurt/comfort, unwell reader, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

A/N: for the ask here. This is the Poe version. Sorry this has taken so long. I am having some not great times with my mental illnesses at the moment.

Word Count: 623

You stared at the control panel, trying your best to actually see it, despite the aura of lights that were disrupting your vision. 

It had been a stupid idea to try to keep working, to push through the pain in your head and nausea in your stomach. The obvious warning signs of sickness. 

And now here you were, on the far side of the base that was still practically abandoned until the repairs were completed. 

You groaned and slowly sat down on the ground. If you just took a few minutes, you’d be fine. You’d be better. You’d have enough strength to get to your bunk without passing out. 

The cold wall was soothing against your back and you closed your eyes for a second, trying to fight off the wave of nausea. 

After a few deep breaths you ended up completely on the floor, curled into the foetal position, clutching your legs, and willing the sickness to dissipate. 

You must have fallen asleep at some point because you didn’t hear him come in or call your name. Anxiety adding an edge to his words. 

But you did feel his cool hand press against your forehead and the sharp hiss as he took a breath. 

“Baby, you’re burning up.” The pet name slipped passed his lips before he could catch himself. He bit down on his tongue, as if he could take the word back, and prayed that you hadn’t noticed.

“Poe?” Your voice was low as you cracked open your eyes. The strong sunlight from earlier had weakened dramatically. How long had you been here? 

Concern was etched into his handsome features. 

“I’m here.” He whispered; brow furrowed. “Been looking for you.”

You hummed an answer, your mind taking a minute to catch up with his words. 

He moved his hand from your forehead, tracing his fingertips down your face and along your jaw. You lent into his touch, unable to stop the instinctive need to be close to him. 

Finally his words from before registered. And despite your sickness, a giddy high flooded your veins. “You’ve been looking for me?” 

He nodded. “You’ve been gone for a while.” 

“Sorry.”

That made him smile softly. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” He swallowed. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.” 

He nodded again. 

The urge to close your eyes was so strong, overpowering almost to the point of pain. You’d close them for a little while, just a little while.

Poe, noticing your ongoing battle to stay awake, shifted in his crouched position. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

You gave him a weak smile, but kept your eyes closed. “I don’t think I can walk.”

He tutted good naturedly, “who said anything about you walking?” Carefully he took you into his arms, moving slowly so that he wouldn’t shake your head. 

“Poe,” you tried to protest, your voice weak. “You can’t carry me all the way.”

“Yes I can.” He said so matter of factly as he stood as smoothly as he could, trying to cause you minimal disruption.

“I’ll throw up on you.” He was so warm, comforting. A different heat from the burning of your fever. He felt safe. He felt like home.

“Okay.” 

“Poe-”

“I don’t mind.” He whispered, cradling you as he began to walk.

“Poe-”

“I really don’t mind.” 

You frown but conceded your defeat. “Drop me if I get too heavy.”

“I will not.” There was an almost childlike humour in his voice.

“Or if I start to throw up.”

“Nope.”

“Poe-”

“Shh,” he hushed you gently, and with kindness. “Try to go back to sleep.”

You pulled a face but didn’t say anything as the sound of his beating heart lulled you to sleep. 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockley @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @melodygatesauthor

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as their natal charts: jeonghan

sun in libra, moon in aquarius

this man is moody and exciting, it's impossible to get bored with him; has trouble settling for one activity, easily changes his own plans, is more nervous than people think of him, needs someone to calm him down; actually is really nice and sensitive if you get past his tough shell

'hannie, wait!' you shout, hearing his answering giggle. instead of making you irritated though, it only brings a smile to your lips. you quickly wipe it off, trying to sound stern: 'i'm serious!'

'hurry up, slow pants!' he shouts back, laughing. 'or i'll go without you!'

you roll your eyes at his dramatics, but inside fondness blooms at his spontenous nature. just few minutes ago you both were content with a nice picnic next to the river and now here you are, running to catch a ferry because he suddenly thought that it'd be a great idea. you stop to tie up your shoes and when a shadow looms over you, you look up, smiling. 'thought you said you'd go without me, huh?'

jeonghan huffs and kneels, batting your hands away and tying your shoes himself. 'what i'm going to do with you? you can't even tie your shoes properly,' he teases good-naturedly.

pouting, you snark back: 'you can leave me here, then.'

he stands up, looking at you with a gleam in his eyes. for all of his playful banter, jeonghan knows when to be serious to soothe your worries and can tell when you're not taking the joke lightly: 'not a chance, babe. it's only fun if i'm doing it with you.'

you smile, reaching out to poke his cheek. 'sweet talker. let's go now.'

he nods and takes your hand in his. 'or we can go to amusement park instead of a ferry? or no, we can go to ferry and then from there we can-'

'let's just get to the ferry first,' you interrupt him gently. 'and then we can decide what to do afterwards, okay?'

jeonghan looks at you at this, giving your hand a light squeeze. sometimes his mind runs too far ahead and he is thankful that you are always there to calm him down even in the smallest stuff like this one. 'you do know that i'd never actually go without you, right?' he suddenly asks, nervous. he knows that his jokes can go too far, so it's always good to check; he can close his eyes on many things but not on making you feel insecure in this relationship.

you chuckle, nodding. 'i know, hannie. i know.'

because you do know - for all of his bravado, jeonghan is actually much more sensitive than he lets on and he cares for your feelings even more than he realizes.

idolizes relationships, a best fit for him would be someone with motherly tendencies due to his childish nature; while concept of relationships intrigues him, he doesn't jump into them quickly, takes his time to decide whether his partner can give any additional meaning to his life or not. relationships just for the sake of it do not interest him, he values his independence and freedom too much for that.

jeonghan stares at the chicken soup in front of him and something in his chest squeezes uncomfortably. you are so nonchalant about it and this is what gets him the most, because making chicken soup for someone who's ill is such a small thing for you, you don't even give it any meaning. it's obvious for you, something like breathing. and you have no idea how you shatter his world with such a simple act, how your caring sides makes him want to hold you tight and never let go. with small acts like this one you pull him closer and closer to you, make him think of things like future together and it's too much. because then he starts thinking of what you mean to him and what you bring to his life and then he starts thinking of how life without you would be incredibly dull and then-

'that soup is not going to eat itself,' you remind him, stepping closer. you check whether he has a fever or not with a hand on his forehead. 'hm, i think you're starting to burn up. how are you feeling?'

'okay,' jeonghan croaks, wincing at his voice.

'yeah, that sounded very okay,' you sigh, leaning in. 'i know you're not hungry, but soup will make you feel better.'

you make me feel better, you and your care and your love is on the tip of his tongue but he says nothing. being cared of is something that he needs 24/7 and something that he so afraid of asking for. he doesn't want to seem weak or needy, but you somehow guess his desires right away, giving him what he needs without him having to ask for it. jeonghan thinks he might be more than just 'a little' in love with you. 'thank you for the soup,' he says sincerely, smiling at the way your entire face lights up. 'it's delicious.'

'you haven't tried it yet,' you point out, smiling.

'when it's cooked with so much care for me, of course it's going to be delicious. i'll eat it even if it's bad.'

it's the 'thank you for taking care of me and always being there for me' wrapped into one and you smile at this, nodding. confessions from jeonghan sound exactly like 'i'll eat it even if it's bad' and there's a certain charm in them, too. 'i promise i didn't poison it,' you respond, attuning to his teasing side.

jeonghan chuckles, pulling you closer. 'you come here and eat it with me.'

he doesn't listen to your protests and forces you to sit on his lap, tucking his chin on your shoulder and making you feed him. 'you're such a baby,' you mutter affectionately, patting his hands on your waist.

'your baby,' he replies easily and yes, he is. and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

a/n: bursting into your feed with another series! hopefully this is good? pls let me know what you think! - nini

all of my works are here and my tag list is: @smalliechelle @jaetaimjadore @yeow6n @a-wandering-stay (let me know if you want to be added!)

[puddle-nerd]

Healing Warmth

Summary: When you’re sick, Spider makes a great cuddle buddy.

Prompt #10 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Human Reader, Established Relationship, Sick Reader, Spider loves cuddles, Spider radiates heat, Change my mind

Author’s Note: A long time ago, my first ex did this while I was sick, and I felt so loved despite being a sick mess at the time that I wanted to share this with you all. Also, remember, Spider is a sixteen-year-old boy who doesn’t know the healing arts of the Omatikaya so he’s trying his best.

AO3 Link

“I’m fine,” you protested vehemently for the fifth time in thirteen minutes and twenty seconds before a round of violent coughing stormed malevolently up from your lungs and sliced your throat from the inside to add insult to injury. You doubled over beneath your many blankets, curling in on yourself as you choked and gasped and coughed some more until your body was trembling and you felt weak to the point of wanting to pass out. You refused to meet Spider’s knowing dark chocolate gaze and huffed weakly as you slowly slumped back onto your bed. Unfortunately, this – your terrible illness, what usually went by the term ‘head cold’ around the human encampment, which was stupid because you felt it throughout your whole body and not just in your head – was expected because you always without fail got sick annually for, like, two and a half to maybe three weeks when the weather of the Omatikayan forests turned cooler. And you’d already been feeling under the weather for at least a week, though this was the worst of it, so far.

It wasn’t fair.

Spider hardly ever got sick. Not even when he spent time around you while your fever was high, and you felt like you were dying. And even when good ol’ Norm tried to cheer you up at your bedside by explaining that Spider had different chromosomes and genetic makeup that was a little more effective against human ailments than you did, you would just groan and toss a pillow at your adoptive uncle. Good naturedly, of course because the tall human male was a nerd, but you loved him dearly anyway.

“Wanna try that again, my silly little girl?” Spider smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and raising a brow at you.

You flipped him off, your arm trembling when you raised it in his direction.

Spider just laughed, knowing you didn’t actually mean it and uncrossed his arms, coming towards you and crawling up onto your bed until he could flop beside you on top of all of the covers. You groaned at the sudden weight pressing against your over sensitive body but twisted onto your side, anyway, allowing the tall boy to curl up behind you. Your body soaked up the heat radiating off of him like a sponge and it did make you feel better… a little. Of course, that could have also been wishful thinking, too, wanting to spend the day with the boy you cared for deeply, even if you were ill. Still, you knew he had plans today, like most days, and you decided to remind him, just in case he had forgotten. That’s what a good girlfriend did, right?

“You’re gonna be late… Lo’ak’s gonna come looking for you soon if you don’t go meet up with him soon,” you murmured to Spider over your shoulder, “and he’s gonna be upset if you cancel.”

The younger Sully son hated when you took Spider’s attention away from him, but you weren’t sure if it was because Lo’ak didn’t have many friends or because of something else…?

You suddenly started to cough again, though not as violently as before, thank Eywa, and curled in tighter on yourself, your lungs temporarily itching deep within your chest cavity with each ounce of air tickling their insides. Spider, unable to do much, hugged you through the blankets and rubbed at your back before reaching over onto your nightstand and handing you your water bottle. He helped you take a sip, encouraging you to continue to suck up the liquid until you moaned in protest. Carefully, he put your water bottle back and eased your body back down onto the mattress, cuddling up into you once again.

“Lo’ak can survive without me for one day,” Spider muttered. “You might perish this time and I refuse to let my girl die on me.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. And really, you actually did love cuddling with him, whenever you could. Your bedroom door opened and – instead of the blue skinned teenager you were expecting – your mother carefully strolled into the dim room with a small medication bottle and a steaming cup of tea, not even blinking when she noticed the sixteen-year-old boy at your back. “Drink this and take these,” she said before looking at Spider, who helped you sit up once more. The older woman commanded him, “Make sure she drinks lots of water whenever she's awake, please. Whenever he comes around, I’ll tell the Sully boy you’re occupied today.” The blonde teen nodded his head, replying, “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” Your mother smiled and took the empty cup from you, adding, “Try to get some sleep – both of you. Sleep will help you heal faster, baby girl.” “Thanks, Mom,” you nodded, and your boyfriend helped you lay down again. “Thanks, Spider,” you whispered as your mother closed the door about 50% of the way. You pulled his arm around your middle and intertwined your fingers together, adding “For taking care of me.” Instead of answering, he hummed and kissed the hinge of your jaw, snuggling closer to you with a soft sight, holding you tight and secure. With his heat seeping into you, and his arm around you, you drifted off as the medication attempted to get your body back to normal, feeling safe and well loved.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 10 February 2024 Word Count: 900

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee, @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

May i request headcanons for malleus, sebek, the tweels and jack dating a short mc who tries to kabedon them? (Seperately) thabk you :)

Floyd Leech: 

Floyd gives you an amused, sharp grin, looking down at you with a look that was almost too smug. You wanted to back out of your idea now knowing you’d just cornered a predator, which meant he had just let you corner him and was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  He poked at your cheeks with his fingers, asking what the big idea was and telling you he wasn’t a fan of you wasting his time. But if you did have something important to say, or do, well, he was there now so you’d better get to it or else…

Jack Howl: 

Jack had never been privy to any romantic movements so he had not a single clue as to what you were doing to him. Were you trying to corner him and start a fight? He could probably take you but there was something scratching at the back of his mind telling him he didn’t want to hurt you at all. He just stood there and took it, waiting to see what your next move might be. His raised eyebrow does nothing to help your nerves and you can see it’s flying right over his oblivious head.

Jade Leech: 

Jade is smiling patiently at you, pretending as if your kabedon had stopped him in his tracks. He gave you an expectant look as he knew a few things that could follow, but who knew if you truly had the courage for that. He was amused that you had even gotten this far and it felt good to have all your attention on him. He asked politely if there was something you needed of him, teasing that there were other ways to get his attention though he wasn’t a fan of being cornered then stared at unexpectedly.

Malleus Draconia: 

Malleus wondered if he just hadn’t heard you speaking and that’s why you chose to get his attention in this manner. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d heard about this particular ritual but it seemed like you were trying to stay in the position, looking up at him with a nervous glance. He smiled good-naturedly at you, sensing no ill-intent though he wasn’t sure what you wanted. When Lilia later explained what said kabedon gesture meant a few lightbulbs go off for Malleus, and the next morning you find yourself pinned to the wall effortlessly, with Malleus implying he would finish what you had started the day before.

Sebek Zigvolt: 

Sebek does not react positively. He doesn’t know what you’re doing for one, expecting him to have knowledge of anything outside of Malleus is a fools wish. So, when you suddenly try to stop him, hand slamming against the wall near him, it sends him into fight mode, glaring at you in a way that made you wither on the spot. His temper is a bit flared but when you insist it wasn’t you trying to start a fight, Sebek urged you to explain yourself, which in the end turned out to be just as mortifying.

[dolleminas]

I think the last few days really taught me (but what I secretly already knew) is that middle-class women have very little solidarity, let alone empathy for working-class women. It's not only women, it's men too, but it's just glaringly obvious when we supposedly should fight for women, up until it's middle-class women fighting for poor women. There's solidarity, up until a certain point.

Let me paint you a picture. It's summer, I've just started getting back into the workforce after years of crippling illness. I'm meeting with my job coach. A lovely woman, and we get talking about why I want to go back to work.

"Part of it is that I'm bored at home, but I'd be lying if finance isn't a motivator too."

She scoffs good-naturedly. She says, money is not important! The important thing is that you have fulfilment in your work!

I look around myself. We're sitting in her garden. The garden of her two-story house. It's bigger than my entire home. I say I would like to be able to eat, to pay rent. She brushes me off. She doesn't get it. I don't think she's ever had to go hungry.

Let me paint you another picture. I grew up in a neighbourhood full of people like me. The homes were built from the rubble of WWII. When I laid in bed, I would brush my hands over the walls and feel the grit and the dust stain my fingertips. Sometimes it would even stain the bed. My bedroom is hardly bigger than a broom closet, but it's all I know. Most of my neighbours are immigrant families and poc. That's where the government puts them. Crime is rampant. But it could be worse. My mother buys hand-me-downs from the neighbours for me. Other kids bully me for my clothes. During the christmas holidays, the school has to board up the windows because of vandalism. We sit with our coats on in class because heating costs too much.

Still, I know people who have it worse. My mother has a part-time job as a receptionist and my grandparents help. When I wear holes into my underwear my grandmother silently buys us some more. I have never known underwear without holes in them. When we go on vacation, I feel rich. I know many kids who don't. My mother only has to take care of me.

This all makes it that much more of a slap in the face to see women claim to be supporters of women, so-called feminists but have absolutely no empathy for poor women. And most of the time they don't even know it. They have an idealised world-view. A, 'just do x' or 'just do y' and my personal favourite 'well I'd never do that!' or even 'you have options.'

No. No, don't. Be quiet, be silent, listen. If you have solidarity with women, then listen about the lives you have not lived, the struggles you have not struggled with. Do not come from a place of 'I would never' because you cannot, with any resemblance of accuracy, say that until you have lived it. Poor women aren't stupid or lazy, stop thinking of us as such! Stop blaming us for the life we were born into, the life we often are unable to escape.

Sit down, listen... and don't expect poor women to have solidarity with you if you do not have it with us. You, the privileged one. The idealistic one. The one who never knew how it was like to go hungry as a little girl and have to watch your mother lie to you about why.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

@kikker-oma Happy birthday, my beloved frined! <3 Enjoy <3

Four hummed as he puzzled over the clues all around them. He, Hyrule, and Legend were trapped in a room with only their wits to get them out (or if they just asked the dungeon master, but there was no fun in that). It was a somewhat small space, but it was blessedly quiet, only with some gentle brain tickling music playing in the background. No beeping of monitors, no overthinking if something was going to be detrimental to someone's life. Just the thrill of puzzle solving with no repercussions if anything went wrong, and good company to boot.

The clues were obscure, to be sure. A clock with no pendulum and an upside down drawing of an elephant, a locked chest with three giant numbers, a table with a jewelry chest that had two drawings that could rotate, and three frames on the wall, one with a series of numbers, and the other two with symbols that resembled the Zora dialect, though Four wasn't entirely sure it was actually Zoran.

"There's an elephant on this chest, just like on the clock," Hyrule noted, immediately flipping the image of the elephant on the furniture to match the clock. That helped pop open the jewelry chest, which revealed the missing pendulum, but there was clearly more to be solved. Four eagerly added his own observations, how certain symbols had dots over them, which might indicate an order to a lock.

Legend, however, was silent.

"You notice anything, Ledge?" Four asked as he and Hyrule were stumped by the next step. "And, out of curiosity, is that actual Zoran on the wall? You understand their language, right?"

Legend glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, obviously distracted. "Hm?"

Four stared at him a moment. "The... the Zoran... are you okay?"

At the question, Hyrule immediately turned to face Legend fully, eyes analyzing him from head to toe, and then he relaxed a little, not finding any obvious sign of injury or illness. "Need another energy drink?"

"Another?" Four repeated. "You don't even work today!"

Legend huffed. "Still need them."

"Okay, but then what's wrong?" Four questioned again.

Legend shook his head. "Nothing. What part are we stuck on?"

Hyrule glanced between the nurses, a quiet resolve turning his face to stone, and then he looked back at the clock pendulum. "We need a code to get this out of the box. And Four was curious if the Zoran on the wall was legit."

Legend looked at the framed words and immediately shook his head. "Some of them are close, but it's just gibberish."

"How do you know Zoran anyway?" Four had been wondering about that, and maybe it would distract him.

"I've traveled a lot. Did an assignment in the Domain, picked up on some of it."

Well, at least Legend was talking now. Four wasn't quite sure what was up, but clearly something was. Maybe it was as simple as being tired; maybe Legend did need an energy drink. But still...

The trio got through yet another clue, managing to get the pendulum back on the clock, but were still puzzling over the the locked cabinet which held the key they would need to escape the room. Four found his stamina draining as he had been working all day, but Hyrule was poring over every item in the room, stubborn as ever to figure this out.

And Legend had zoned out again.

"Ledge... are you sure you're okay?" Four asked quietly, trying not to attract Hyrule's attention and put his friend on the spot. That was usually the quickest way to get Legend to deflect, after all.

"I'm tired, okay?" Legend fired back a little snippily. "Just tired."

"Let's get coffee afterward," Four offered.

Legend huffed good naturedly. "That isn't gonna cover it."

"Got it!" Hyrule shouted as he opened the cabinet. The key inside barely had an instant to glisten in the light before Hyrule snatched it and opened the door to the exit. He smirked at Legend. "Guess we'd better get that coffee, then."

The emergency nurse rolled his eyes.

The trio settled at a café nearby just as it started to rain, and between the water droplets sliding down the window and the dim, calm lighting of the room, Four nearly nodded off before he could drink his coffee. Hyrule sipped happily at his hot chocolate while Legend stared outside, his triple espresso sitting forgotten on the table.

"Does this have to do with the trauma patient?" Four finally asked, trying to confirm his suspicions. He himself hadn't taken care of the patient, but Legend clearly had since he'd asked about the outcome earlier in the evening.

Legend took a slow, weary breath, and turned his attention to his drink. "Shit happens. I'm just tired."

Yep. That was what this was about.

Four wasn't entirely sure how to address this issue. He'd been a nurse for a year now, and though he'd had a few patients die, he himself was still figuring out ways of handling it. He remembered when Sky had checked up on him after that one awful slew of shifts, how everyone had trickled through, stopping by his place, bringing him food, letting him rest and talk and cry and do whatever he needed. Four had felt well supported and loved, and he'd been eternally grateful for it.

But the weariness Legend showed, the shield of indifference he put up... it wasn't how Four coped. So Four wasn't sure what to do. He glanced uncertainly at Hyrule, who was watching Legend in silence. His paramedic friend could be equally distant, though not so cold. Four found himself wishing Dot or Sky or Malon or Twilight were here. They were much better at this.

"It sucks," Four acknowledged, feeling like that woefully underplayed it but not sure what else to say.

Legend looked at him a moment, and Four wanted to melt into the bench, but then the travel nurse smiled. He bit his lip, his gaze dropping back to his espresso, and he muttered, "Yeah. It does."

That was all the conversation Four could drag out of him, but when Hyrule started to talk about some funny stories from the ambulance, Legend followed along with calmer energy. Four gave in to the conversation, tossing jokes and inane topics back and forth, and Legend eventually started to chime in a little. By the time the three were preparing to leave, the atmosphere seemed less tense overall. Four offered to give Hyrule a ride home, but Hyrule said he could walk from there, and the three all parted ways.

Four hoped that somehow he had helped. The smile on Legend's face seemed to indicate as such, at least.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Faith Consuming Hope

Gale x F! Tav (named)

(Child Of Dawn, part 9)

18+ complicated feelings, sub/dom, urgency, roughness, riding (f!), temperature play, fingering (f!), oral (f!), p-in-v, unprotected sex, religous trauma, depictions of implied violence, autonomy/identity issues, discussions of terminal illness (in a way), tenderness

Meeting a certain tressym, Gale finds an opportunity to coaxe more sincerity and trust from his closed off love. Though he is powerless to not imbibe in her own persuasion...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

"The roof, huh?" Karlach remarked, leaning on her battleaxe.

"I mean, if we're looking for lost pigeons there's a good chance the creatures would be roofbound." Astarion huffed. "I remind you, I feel this errand is below our standing."

"I know." Aurum sighed good naturedly, patting his arm. Already staring up at the angle of wall to shingles, eyes calculating.

"Oh no you don't." Gale cut off the determination he could already see forming in her face, pulling his sleeves back.

"You're still not well enough, we're taking the safe route." He admonished, pulling a thread of Weave down to him. Twisting it around his fingers and releasing it around them.

Casting flight on them both, the spectral feathers circled her. Lifting her off of her feet, hair hovering above her shoulders.

She gasped out a laugh, giving a little twirl in the air. With the Weave connecting them, he felt her joy washing over him in jubilant waves.

He couldn't help his own wide smile, taking her hand. "Shall we?" He lifted up, pulling her up through the air.

He flew them a little farther than necessary, savoring this small moment. Her eyes held his in sparkling wonder when they landed, his heart so full of adoration it ached.

"Getting truly swept off your feet. Thoroughly magical, yes?" He smiled.

"Are you fishing for compliments, wizard?" She teased, eyes still dancing with mirth.

"Oh, you know me too well."

She ran a finger along the bridge of his nose.

"You're too cute when you do that."

"Do what?" He wondered, genuinely confused.

Her eyes caught a sight over his shoulder.

"Well I think we found our culprit." She intoned warmly, coming around his side.

Folding elegantly onto knees, she held her hand out to the cat to sniff.

No, not cat. Tressym. Surely it couldn't be...

"Tara!" He called excitedly. "It is you! What are you doing up here?"

She paused from sniffing Aurum's extended fingertips. "What a well-mannered acquaintance you have here, Mr. Dekarios. So few greet me so politely."

Aurum smiled, tilting her head at Tara. Leaving her palm open for her to push her little head into.

"Ah, it would be a great disservice to call her my acquaintance! This is Aurum, my..."

He was at a loss to what to call her. They certainly hadn't made anything official, but he didn't want to overstep by naming it outright...

"Girlfriend." She finished easily. "Aurum Orndeir, pleasure to meet you."

He smiled so wide he thought his face might crack. Glad that she was preoccupied greeting Tara to not see his surely giddy looking display.

"I'm glad you two have finally met, I had been hoping it could've been over a home cooked meal in my tower and not on precarious shingles."

They both gave him a look of teasing reproach, setting his heart fluttering.

Oh, these two might be trouble together.

"Inviting me to your house for the first time? You must really like me." Aurum remarked, Tara purring appreciatively at her sass.

"More than you could possibly believe."

She bit her lip at him in a smile, turning back to Tara. "If it's not too much of a bother Tara, we've been tasked to retrieve these letters." Aurum explained, gesturing to the letters strewn inside of the nest Tara was guarding.

"Ah, these must be important birds indeed, Ms. Orndeir."

"They were." Aurum agreed warmly. "I'm sure their handler would appreciate your discretion. But between you and me, they do seem delicious."

"What better company you've been keeping recently. A welcome change." Tara circled around Aurum's feet as she rose, letters in tow.

He always loved watching her charm those around her, but even more so here. Tara's approval was hard to come by, but she was firmly within her good graces already. Gods, it was no wonder why she had him so happily wrapped around her finger.

"What a lovely tressym!" She sighed, watching Tara glide away.

"I'm impressed you correctly identified her! Have you met many before?"

"Only one, it would come to a window at the temple sometimes." She smiled somewhat mournfully, many emotions flitting across her face.

He took her hands, pulling her eyes to his. Pouring his earnestness into her.

"Would you tell me more? About your time there, I mean."

She sighed, thumb rubbing the curve of his fingers. "It's very few happy memories."

"I know, but I'd like to hear them anyway." He encouraged, voice low.

Her lips pursed in thought. He tried not to show the desperation on his face. Woefully aware that though he had bared his soul to her countless times, there were large swaths of her life she had not shared with him. He knew it was due to pain and not indifference towards him, but it still made his heart ache all the same.

He wanted her to share everything with him, to be a safe harbor for her strife.

"I know I promised I would show you, and I will. But not now, we need to get back to our earth bound friends." She smiled, pulling his hands towards the lip of the roof.

The relief washing over him was apparent. Sighing out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Tonight, then?" He urged.

"Tonight." She nodded.

-

The chatter around the fireplace was as warm as the flames. Bowls and wine glasses being passed around, mouths leaning in to tell anecdotes, hands gesturing. Aurum smiled at the banter Karlach and Wyll had started up, hotly debating which is worse; an Orthon or a Cambion.

Gale's body enveloped behind hers, hand rubbing small absent-minded circles into her waist. She leaned back into him contently, looking up at him.

He stared back down at her lovingly, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Getting sleepy?" He whispered.

"A little. You're too snuggly, it's not fair." She chastised.

"Gods, you two are so sweet it's going to give me an abscess. Go to your private chambers before we vomit, please." Astarion chided.

"I love you too, Astarion." She smiled, rising and kissing his cheek.

"Would you like to retire, Gale?" She offered her hand to him.

"Yes, let's." He sighed, more than happy to have her to himself again.

She unlocked their suite with quick fingers and pulled him inside, pinning him against the closed door.

He jolted in surprise, lips crashing into his. Her body pressed hard against his, mouth slick and demanding. Hand tangling in his hair.

He moaned against her, heat immediately igniting in his pelvis. Taking two handfuls of her ass greedily.

He tried not to focus on just her figure too often, but Gods, what a sight she was.

Wide hips that swayed when she walked, thighs thick and lambs ear soft. Hips dipping so enticingly into waist, the small curve of her stomach. Breasts just big enough to fit in his hands, their smaller size complimenting her ample hips.

He would have to commission a statue of her when they got back to Waterdeep.

He kneaded the fat of her ass in his hands, groaning against her mouth. Already unbearably hard.

He knew she was trying to distract him from their incoming conversation. But he was a greedy man, and she was a call he had no desire to resist.

Her hands pulled roughly at his robe, wrestling with the tie at his waist. Impatient, she pulled it down over his shoulders, the fabric falling around his waist.

Her mouth left his and he sought for more, following. Until her mouth found his chest.

She swirled his nipple into her soft mouth. His head fell back against the door with a thunk. Gods it was so good. The twisting pulses of her mouth emptying his head. Nothing but hazy desire glazing over his eyes.

His hips arched towards her of their own accord. A magnetic pull.

She noticed, dropping to knees. Beginning to pull his robe aside.

"Wait," He panted, halting her approach with a gentle hand.

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Is something wrong?"

Gods give him strength.

"No, quite the opposite." He dropped to knees with her, cupping her cheek.

"I want to treat you tonight. Our last coupling was just my pleasure."

She smiled cheekily at him. "If you think I didn't enjoy myself that night you're a fool."

"Oh most definitely a fool. One that wants to give you the ecstasy of the heavens and the passion of the hells."

He moved forward on knees, kissing along her swan neck. "Please, Aurum. It's all I want..."

She sighed in pleasure, head falling back.

"Well I have been curious about this talented mouth you've mentioned..."

Oh, she'd get her curiosity sated.

He chuckled and opened the ties of her silk robe, now dyed a deep purple. When she had debuted it casually, walking out into their shared room, his jaw quite literally dropped. Then a deep wonderful heartache set in when he realized it was his purple. The one he often sported.

The color suited her beautifully. The rich indigo contrasted with her gilded hues, like a gold ring circled with sapphires.

"Lay back, my sun and moon." He hushed. "Let me love you."

-

Aurum's heart constricted, but she looked into his deep brown eyes. Trying to separate the devotion apparent there from her tainted experiences. Assuring herself that his love wasn't weighted, she didn't need to perform any role here.

No one had loved her so purely, and it terrified her. The ever circling thoughts: What even was she outside of her holy purpose? Could there truly be more to his love than misplaced worship?

That the true reason why she had pushed his love away for so long is that, on some level, she was afraid of him. The depth and honesty of him was too warm, too open. And what did it mean to be loved like that? How could she live up to what he poured into her?

He looked at her as she hesitated, her swirling thoughts reading on her face.

"I love you, Rosa'sune."

Her mouth fell open. Shock stricken through the heart.

"How...?"

"Ah," He chuckled, embarrassed. "A truly humiliating amount of research. I'm sorry if that's a breach of trust, your family name was too familiar to not investigate."

His eyes lit in that spark of joy he got in sharing information.

"Your birth name, did you know it's of drow origin? Fascinating, for a wood elf to take inspiration from Undercommon."

"It's..." She started. "My wet nurse named me, she was drow."

His eyes sparkled. "Do you know what it means?"

She shook her head, her father had never shared that with her before he sent Ih'ara away.

"She chose well for you. It means warm rain."

Aurum hissed a breath between teeth, eyes welling.

"Oh, my love." He hushed, gathering her in his arms.

So much had been taken from her, her body, her voice. Her name. Little pieces of her whittled away, year after year. She had held on white knuckled to the fragments she still remembered. So much lost, discarded as useless by higher hands. Now, another piece of her was returned.

"Thank you." She hiccuped, hot tears dampening his shoulder.

He rubbed warm circles into her back.

"It's my greatest pleasure, my soft summer rain."

She pulled back and kissed him, her heart overflowing. A well of tenderness for him so full it ached.

Leaning back, she looked deep in his eyes. Body falling open for him.

He smiled, breathing a slow breath in through parted lips. Looking at her with deep longing. Eyes brimming with an intensity of adoration that nearly made her dizzy.

"Please give me your love, Gale."

He leaned down, cupping her face. Kissing her so deeply it took her breath. Slotting between her legs, a wide hand caressing the outside of her thigh. Pulling it up into a curve, angling around his hip.

Her head fell back from the kiss when he started to slowly grind into her. His lust blown pupils watching her face through lidded eyes. Thumb stroking her cheek. His labored breath a warm miasma that encircled her.

Her robe fell open with the arching of her chest. The sunburst burning a brilliant silver between them.

He kissed along her sternum, pulling up on her ribcage with a low moan. Mouth traveling to her breast, tip of his tongue trailing a circle around her peak.

She shivered, cunt clenching. Her nipple already standing eagerly at attention.

His warm mouth enveloped the hard nub, tongue pulling up in a swirl.

She whined, legs rising up into a curl.

He naturally hooked them over his shoulders, continuing to swirl and flick, sending jolts of pleasure through her. Her hips tried to grind into his belly, leaving a wet trail on the toned plane.

He moaned into her flesh, hand pushing down to cup her cunt. Gathering her slick in his fingers, eyes fluttering up into lids at the sensation.

"Gods, Aurum." He groaned, looking down at the copious pull of arousal on his fingers. "Is this all for me?"

She nodded, biting her lip. A blush rising to her cheeks at how much there was coating his long fingers.

He held her eyes as his slicked fingertips lit up a low red, casting a spell under his breath. Her breath held as she felt a wave of heat radiating from them, slowly plunged into her.

Immediately, her hips started writhing. His hot thrusting fingers bringing choppy whimpers to her lips. The heat impossibly pulling more slick from her. Pushing out into his palm.

"Fuck," He gasped, pulling back to watch her arousal drip down his wrist. Hips rocking unconsciously, heavy lidded eyes roving over her arching body.

Her orgasm already fast approaching, she gripped his wandering hand and pressed it to her chest. Yellow and silver twisting under her sternum, rays of light carding out between his fingers.

He watched rapturously as she crested over, her light reflected in his wide eyes. The sunburst pulsed brightly under her clenched shut eyes. Body twisting up as the pleasure took her apart. Gasping out pleading whines, hips bucking hard into his skilled fingers.

His thrusts slowed but didn't stop, thumb rubbing gentle circles into her clit.

Her hips twitched with each pulse, her cum pooling in his palm.

"Gods below..." He breathed, arcing his head down. Lapping up her cum, tongue plunging into her to catch more.

She whined, pushing into his mouth. Already needing more. Hand linking with his below her sternum. Twisting and pulling his fingers in phrases as he slurped at her clit.

Yes. Yes. More. Slow. Yes.

The working of his mouth was sending her toes into a curl, trying her hardest not to clamp her legs around his head. Muffling her cries into her cupped palm. The pulls of her fingers in his becoming more frantic.

His hand not twined with hers caressed along her thighs, her hips. Reverent skating fingers, feather light. The sensation mingling with the hungry wet pulls of his tongue. Slurping and suckling her clit with low moans. Tongue pulsing down to enthusiastically catch the arousal that poured from her.

Her second undoing pushed up higher and higher in her pelvis. His mouth too insistent, too learned already. Fast learning what took her apart at the seams.

"Gale, I'm-" She whimpered, gripping his hair back in a ponytail.

He looked up at her, nodding fervently. Mouth impossibly hungrier, roaming fingers pulling back to her center to push back inside her. Curling up and pumping hard.

His talking fingers twisting fast phrases against hers, already fluent in her language.

Go. Let go. Good. Beautiful. Safe. Give. Want.

Her mouth fell open in a silent cry, her second death hitting mercilessly, ripping up through her belly. Her own fingers unable to speak to him. Just grasping desperately into his, twining into his wide hand. Hips bucking erratically, his mouth still pulling as she clenched the fingers inside her, body demanding from them. His mouth determined to pull the thread of her orgasm to its frayed end.

He had no sign of stopping, and she had to pull back on his gathered hair. "Gale, baby, slow down..." She breathed, a small laugh on her lips.

"I'm sorry," He gasped, his own chuckle on the edge of his words. "I've been ravenous for this. Absolutely starved."

His middle and ring fingers pulled on hers in a warm circle. The phrase they had made together.

Her head cocked slightly, a baffled smile creasing her face.

"Good morning?" Giving a pointed look at the dark balcony.

"Ah," He smiled, heat rising to his cheeks. "Well, I know we agreed upon a meaning for this. But I've been deceiving you, see I've had my own meaning from the start."

He came up to her, planting a gentle and needful kiss into her lips. Murmuring his true phrase against her, pulling his looped fingers in tandem.

Her heart ached so deeply, thinking of the amount of times they'd exchanged this greeting. Nearly every morning, as he rose to meet her in the early blue light, their fingers found each other and spoke two phrases to each other.

Good morning.

I love you.

Tears streamed down her temples, kissing him in desperate tender pulses. Trying to get as close as nature allowed without being inside. But the world would only give her the inverse.

"Please, Gale." She whimpered against his warm mouth. "I need you inside me."

His breath caught, then slowly pulled through his teeth. Flipping onto his back. Fingers hooking around her hips and pull her to straddle him.

"Lead, my love. Let me be the seat of your pleasure." He rumbled, voice all gravel. Eyes dark and deceptively calm.

Her cunt clenched at his voice, the desire bleeding from him. His fingers massaging into the flesh of her hips in restrained encouragement.

She lost all decorum then, giving into the animalistic carnal drive she loved to indulge. Though she adored his love making, this was her true nature. Fucking mean and nasty.

She angled him to her entrance and slid him slowly inside, gripping his lower belly in fingernails. Mewling at the stretch, her cunt already bearing down in greedy clenches. His head falling back, gripping her thighs for dear life.

"Ah-h- tight..." He moaned out, voice choppy. Eyes fluttering back into lids.

She gave no pause, body unbearably hungry for him. To chase that feral desire into oblivion. To fuck him into the mattress until he was pleading.

She rolled her hips up and down in a vicious wave, his cock stroking euphoria into her body. Knowing that she should ease him in, but far too ravenous to slow herself.

Opening her strained shut eyes, she watched him. His eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure, lips fallen open with huffed breath. Flushed with exertion, the slightest sheen of sweat on his brow. Watching her with equally hungry eyes.

Losing herself entirely to her base desire, she drug her nails down his chest. Moaning at the pink lines that raised in her trail and his thrown back head.

She pulled his hands from her hips and pinned his wrists next to his head, leaning over his face. Hips still driving in hard thrusts. Hair falling curtain around him.

His wide eyes stared up at her, pupils so blown they were black saucers.

With a low groan she licked up his neck, tongue curling around his adam's apple. Flicking up the edge of his jaw.

She felt his cock throb hard inside her, his lower lip pulled into his teeth. A slight tremor in his thighs.

"So handsome," She breathed against his throat. "Trying not to come undone for me."

He moaned out a pleading whine as her hips picked up speed. Chasing her pleasure untethered. Pressing her hands down on his wrists as an anchor.

"Aurum," He whimpered, head turning to the side in effort. Teeth gritted and drawing fast shallow breath.

She rose his hands above his head, overlapping his wrists to push down in one hand. Her freed hand taking his chin, pulling his face back to hers.

His eyes met hers, wide and begging. "Kiss me..." He gasped, thighs starting to tremble.

She pulled him hard into her, stifling his cry in her mouth as he came apart under her. Wrists pushing against her hand, body twisting and arching desperately. Hands clenching into white knuckled fists. Hips bucking up into her in fast, erratic thrusts. Flooding her cunt to its brim.

Her hold broke as she buckled forward, crying out against his shoulder. Her body responding in kind as her own end crested, vice gripping him in vicious contractions. Wrenching him of all the spend he could give. His newly freed hands flying to her hips, slamming them up and down in an even faster pace than she had set.

She gripped into his shoulders, eyes rolling marbles in her skull. Mewling out desperate cries as his unrelenting thrusts pushed her orgasm to an impossibly high edge. Fingernails clawing into his skin. Shuddering hard, their shared cum pushing out onto his pelvis.

Tracing the sign for stop into his palm, she fell boneless into him as he stilled her thrusts. Both gasping out fast breaths into each other's necks.

He cupped the back of her head, pushing exhausted kisses into her hairline, her temple, the point of her ear. Murmuring out I 'love you' in repeating croaky hums.

She bit his shoulder in response, giggling at his dissaproving sigh.

Pulling his fingers in their new meaning three times for good measure. His happy sigh at her response setting her heart alight.

-

Gale ruffled his hair into a fresh towel, stepping out of the bath. Disappointed that he woke too late to share in her own bathing. Gods forgive him, but he was unexpectedly exhausted for some reason he couldn't quite place. Sleeping like a stone, body a puddle. Waking feeling far more rested than he had in months. But to a devastatingly empty bed, after all.

He would have to work on coaxing her to stay in bed in the morning. Wanting nothing more than to lay in warm tangled limbs as the sun rose. Snuggled into a lazy pile together, morning be damned.

Naturally, she had already been up, sweeping around the room in his robe. Greeting his groggy wandering with gentle kisses along his jaw, humming good morning to him. Tea in hand, hair piled elegantly on her head. Dodging his hands trying to pull her back into bed with a teasing click of her tongue.

He emerged from their bathroom feeling more like a person again, sleep pulling it's veil back. The rising sun cascading across the balcony where she was sat, leaning her hand on her chin, smiling at a little figure striding on the table.

Tara twirled happily, speaking low to her. A conspiratorial look passing between them, Aurum's wide smile telling of secrets being passed.

His heart soared watching them, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

"Now, what are we whispering about?" He hummed, raising one eyebrow. Kissing Aurum's temple as he came up behind her.

"Well, I was just informing Ms. Orndeir that both your mother and I are so excited to see you finally find a partner, and such a lovely one at that. She was absolutely beside herself when I told her the news."

She tutted at him, turning back to Aurum. "Thank goodness he's found someone to settle down with. We were starting to think he intended to die alone! Now, if you could just convince him to shave that unsightly beard..."

"Oh, I don't know." Aurum smiled, eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. "I think it makes him look rugged."

Her fingernails scratched light circles into his beard, sending little trails of pleasure across him. His eyes closing, mind emptying.

"Such a cat." She teased, scratching under his chin playfully.

"Oh, Morena is quite eager to meet you, my dear." Tara remarked, tail in a happy curl.

"Now hold on a minute," He started, already knowing far too well how the Dekarios women schemed. "How much has been agreed upon without my input?"

"Oh, please, let the women talk." Tara waved away his protest easily.

"We have ever so much to catch up on, and it wouldn't do to not have a spot of tea and chat. Wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Dekarios?"

Gale sputtered out his tea, Aurum patting hard into his back with a laugh.

"I couldn't agree more." She hummed, smiling radiantly at the little tressym. "Tell Morena that she can expect us as soon as we're available."

Oh, the three of them would be trouble together, of that he was sure. Though he desperately yearned to have them all under one roof, he knew there was no hope for him once they were united.

"Of course, we must meet your family as well." Tara added.

Aurum smiled sadly, her jaw tightening just slightly. "I'm sad to say it's just me. There are no more of my lineage left."

"Oh," Tara intoned softly. "I'm very sorry, dear."

"I appreciate that." Aurum sighed, eyes warm.

"Well, no matter. The Dekarios clan is sprawling enough to make up for that tenfold."

Gale laughed appreciatively at that. "Truer words never spoken. An abundance of family, honestly a suffocating amount."

"I would like that." Aurum smiled, thumb caressing his on the table.

"Of course, we would always welcome another..." Tara started, eyeing her in a leading lilt.

"Tara!" Gale hushed, glaring down. "That is not up for discussion!"

Of course, he had thought about it. In vague faraway musings naturally. Even more so as he realized in a jolt that he had finished inside her last night. But still.

Aurum's face slid into that practiced grace that, to the outside, presented a calm serenity. His fingers subtly stroked hers in a reassuring arc, acknowledging her veiled distress.

"I'm sure we will have much to discuss when the opportunity presents itself." He retorted, reigning the conversation back in protectively.

"But my beloved and I have much to attend to today. Our work is endless, isn't it?" He sighed, kissing her cheek.

She smiled, signing a subtle 'thank you' into his fingers. "Truly." She sighed in return.

"Tell Morena that I'll be expecting that letter, though I'm uncertain where it will find me." Aurum added, rising with him from the patio table.

"Ah, no matter. I'm certain I can spot that light in any crowd." Tara tilted her head at Aurum's chest, purring. "Such a radiant sight."

Aurum rested her hand over it, the silvery white hue reassuring.

"Thank you." She offered graciously. Giving away none of the discomfort he knew she felt. Keeping to herself that she tightly shielded this light away from the prying eyes of the world.

His hand weaved into hers pulled gently behind her back to sign freely.

Are you okay?

She stepped back into him.

Good. Safe. I love you.

His knees still went weak when she said it, by mouth or hand. He imagined it would have that effect on him for quite some time.

As Tara glided away he led her inside by the small of her back. She sighed heavily, a sad smile pulling across her face.

"I wish I didn't have to disappoint them."

His heart fell three stories.

"What do you mean? There's no way-"

She turned to him, taking both of his hands into hers. The clench of her jaw and the shaky breath she exhaled through her nose making him pause.

"Is it time?" He hushed, opening his mind to her pre-emptively.

She nodded, the pain in her face making his heart ache.

He leaned his forehead into hers.

"Show me."

She took one deep breath, then closed her eyes. Releasing to him.

A wave of memories crashed over him.

Rising choirs, large sweeping rooms and great clanging bells. The weight of duty. The weight of bearing worship. A purpose so definitive that imperfection was not possible. A voice that was silenced to only sing in hymns. A body that belonged to a higher power, to many powerful hands. Many hands. Many hands holding down. Many hands carving. Many voices drowning out her screams in harmonized rising prayer.

He choked out a sob, tears burning his eyes. But he held strong onto the channel as she tried to pull away. Feeling her hesitation that it was overwhelming him.

The broken hollow cries to her god. Begging night after night on hands and knees to return her faith to her. To return her love, her trust. Then to ask why. Why, why, why.

Then, finally, to give her retribution. To intercede for her if nothing else. If she cannot hide from his wrath, then neither can he. She must stop him, she must be the only one. The unbearable burning in her chest. One word, the only her god spoke to her. Hissed in her ear.

Ungrateful.

She pulled back, cupping his face as he wept.

"I'm sorry, that was too much." She wiped his tears away with her thumbs. Kissing him in soft pulses.

He stared at her in deep sorrow, gripping her hands in a desperate attempt to communicate his grief. No words could express it.

She smiled at him, gently sweeping her thumb over his cheek.

"When I would cry as a child, my wet nurse would never scold me. She would only say a phrase: Roesor russte xanalress, xta'rl transilit. Sorrow exhausts language, touch translates."

"Come here." She whispered, pulling him into her arms.

-

"We need to tell them." Gale's voice equally determined and genuine. Lathering soaps into her hair.

Aurum had just started to relax, his fingers massaging into her scalp.

Chest aching in a sharp burst.

"They don't need to know. It won't do any good to just add another thing on their backs. Not while there's a netherbrain still looming."

Her hands swam slowly in the bathwater, hoping he would relent to her. That her tone and words could be sliding and smooth enough to pull him back around.

"Both Astarion and I know." He pointed out, unhelpful.

"Yeah, and that's two more than I had planned on already." She grumbled.

"Okay, ouch..."

"You know I don't mean it in that way... Look, it won't change anything if they stay in the dark. We'll still have the same battles lined up as far as the eye can see, just with one less looming death on their minds."

He hissed out a breath behind her, clearly caught hearing her say it so plainly.

Another of the reasons she had planned on keeping it entirely to herself. Her death was a certainty that she had made peace with long ago. Others were usually not ready, nor willing, to meet her where she was.

It was unfair to expect that level of acceptance from people so fresh to grief, so it suited her better to just keep that information where it belonged. A facet of her that was irrelevant to their endeavors.

"Besides, Aylin cooled the heat death enough for a few extra years. Even if our troubles carry on to that excruciating of a degree, it's covered." Her tone was fluid and twinkling enough to usually make him laugh.

"Rosa." His voice stern.

Her jaw clenched hard. She knew, deep down, that he was right. They both were. Her approaching death would weigh heavy on them and they would want to know.

"Chi'thall... you're not going to give in on this, are you?" She huffed, letting her hands float on the warm slippery water.

"No." He kissed the edge of her pointed ears. "I am not."

Rising her arm from the bath, she rested an elbow on the water fragrant wood. Leaning her forehead into fingers.

He stayed quiet, knowing her far too well now. Knowing more of his words meant more pathways for her to persuade. Letting her sit in the silence.

"After dinner." She finally offered.

"You're doing the right thing, my love." His warm voice in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I know..." She sighed, heart already exhausted.

Aurum avoided the grief-stricken eyes as much as she could. Explaining in as clear and as reassuring words that could be mustered when dealing in death. Harnessing all of her gracious talent to distill this news into something less devastating.

Answered all of the tearful follow up questions that naturally came.

"There's no way to fix it, outside of divine intervention. Or giving in, but trust me, you dont want that."

"Burning, then implosion. It's safe to be near, I can't hurt you. I would hurt you far worse as the weapon I was designed to be."

"Long enough. With Dame Aylin's grace, I have more than enough time to see this through with all of you."

The air in the room was quiet and swollen with sorrow, soft sniffling and heavy sighs.

Karlach rose from her seat, breaking the silence with a stride forward.

She gathered Aurum up into her. Arms twining strong around her back, cradling the back of her head. Not crying, not choked. Just holding on.

Aurum's eyes closed, relieved. Leaning into her chest, relaxing into her in a slow exhale she hadn't even felt herself holding.

They weaved into each other in solidarity, an unspoken understanding flowing warm through. More arms joining around her until she was encircled completely. Tears staining her shoulder, her back, the crown of her head. Quiet hiccuping breaths and choppy embarrassed laughs.

"We're so glad to have you." Karlach murmured into her ear. Several heads nodding into her in agreement. Recognizing the scratch of Gale's beard against her neck.

"Thank you." She whispered, overcome.

~

Part 10

[triforce-of-mischief]

Not Yet

Summary: Legend doesn't have to trigger his phobia again until he's ready. That's what Warriors tells him, at least.

Word count: 4,070

AO3

Warnings: needles, vomit

Reblogs > Likes!

The portal deposited the heroes on the outskirts of the Lanayru Wetlands, and Wild warned them that they might not reach true civilization during this trip. Both Zora’s Domain and Kakariko were a few days’ travel away, but the Wetland Stable was an hour or two down the road. It was better than nothing, so the group agreed to head there and get their bearings.

They had hardly reached the main road when Wind shouted excitedly, pointing to a figure approaching from the south. Legend squinted, making out a blond man riding a sturdy brown horse. The stranger slowed as he reached the heroes, calling out a greeting that Wild happily returned.

“Everyone, this is Spoone,” Wild said. “He’s a good friend of mine, and the best doctor in Hyrule.”

Legend tried to suppress a shiver. Spoone was just a man, and seemed to be a nice one at that. Legend couldn’t let Spoone’s occupation ruin his opinion of him before they even truly met. So what if he was a doctor? That was… fine.

“The only doctor in Hyrule,” Spoone corrected good-naturedly. “Not counting Doctors Calip and Robbie, whose medical skills are… lacking, anyhow.”

“I’m sure you’ll find an apprentice soon,” Wild said with a grin. “You’ll need all the help you can get to find a use for those scales, right?”

“Ah, yes! I almost forgot that you haven’t heard the news,” Spoone said, one hand absently resting on a pouch at his hip. “Through minimal trial and error, Director Purah and I were able to develop a formula that will change all of Hyrule for the better.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Four asked.

“I’m glad you asked, young man!” Spoone smiled down at Four, and Legend snickered as the teen stood a little straighter. “You see, it’s been my life’s goal to collect even a single scale from the great dragon Naydra. It’s said that her magic can cure any illness, and the thought of delivering that kind of widespread protection is almost too exciting to bear. I had nearly given up hope, but one day Link descended Mount Lanayru with more scales than my horse could carry. I brought them to Hateno, where Director Purah and I transformed them into this.”

The man retrieved a small box from the pouch and angled it so they could see. Rows of tiny vials were lined up inside, each filled with a cool blue liquid.

“Medicine?” Four guessed.

“Correct. A single dose of this stuff will prevent a hyrulian from falling to any of the diseases that spread across the land, or cure them if it’s otherwise too late.”

Warriors stared at the admittedly unimpressive number of vials. “And… this is enough to treat every person in Hyrule?”

“Yes, it is,” Spoone confirmed. “Rather than brew the scales as an elixir, we were able to implement a medical technique that has only recently been discovered since the Calamity. All I have to do is collect a fraction of a vial’s contents and inject it directly into the patient’s bloodstream via a hollow needle.”

Vaguely, Legend heard Warriors suck in a sharp breath. The captain’s words were muffled by Legend’s own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Of course. Of course.

This doctor had reinvented the very thing that was the cause of his phobia and all of its related trauma. Legend just couldn’t catch a break. He knew what would come next.

Warriors was still trying to speak to him, but Legend ignored him in favor of listening to Time.

Their leader was oblivious to Legend’s predicament, saying, “That sounds like it could be incredibly useful for a group like us. If we could travel without fear of our entire party falling ill…”

Spoone responded in the affirmative, offering to administer the medicine once they arrived at the stable. Time agreed, waving the heroes forward as Spoone led the way. Legend started to follow, walking on numb legs, and jolted when Warriors gently grabbed his shoulder.

Warriors waited a moment, holding Legend back until the others were out of earshot. “Not so fast, Lege. I saw how you reacted. If you’re not ready yet-”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m not ready,” Legend whispered. His voice would break if he spoke any louder. “This is for the good of the group. Imagine how much we could get done if none of us get sick, Wars- I can’t ruin that just because I’m a coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” Warriors reminded him. “You’re not mentally fit to go through this, so I’m not going to let you. That’s an order.”

Legend knew that this was a dangerous game, pitting his stubbornness against the captain’s protective streak. Still, he pressed on despite the part of him that begged to accept this mercy. “I’ll be a liability. I could be the one holding everyone back. Wouldn’t it be easier t-to-” His voice gave way, and he mentally cursed it for giving Warriors the proof he needed.

“We’re a team, Lege. When one of us isn’t at their strongest, we cover their weak spot. In this moment, that means sparing you from unnecessary stress. We still have a lot of work to do before you’ll be truly ready for this. Until then, and always, we have your back.”

Legend sighed, finally letting himself feel relieved that he wouldn’t have to go through this… yet. The relief was gone as soon as it came as he remembered that this was only a temporary solution.

“But it’s gonna happen eventually, it-”

“Listen to me, bud. Nothing’s happening today, ok? Right now, you don’t have to do anything.”

“Okay… promise?”

Warriors pulled him into a quick side hug. “Yeah. Promise.”

Legend shoved him away, grumbling about how they needed to catch up to the others. Warriors easily agreed, choosing not to comment on the flush blooming on the tips of Legend’s ears.

Four was walking slower than the rest, and Legend matched his pace as Warriors jogged to the front. The smith took a moment too long to notice Legend, obviously preoccupied with his thoughts.

“He said you don’t have to, right?” Four said, and Legend nodded. “Good.” He fell silent for a minute, and Legend realized that he was walking much closer than he normally did, almost letting their hands touch.

“And how’re you holding up?” Legend asked.

“I’ll be okay.”

Legend frowned, not liking Four’s subdued tone. “You sure?”

Four debated his next words, then sighed before admitting, “Red is crying.”

“What? If you’re not ready either, I’m sure you can-”

“No… I can do this today. We know how to calm him down.”

Legend chewed his lip, wondering again if he should just get it over with now. A wave of anxiety and nausea answered that question.

Four’s next step brought him even closer to Legend. Four grabbed Legend’s hand and Legend gave it a comforting squeeze. “We’ll be okay,” Four repeated.

Legend didn’t know who exactly Four was referring to, but he believed him.

They caught up to the rest of the group, and Four left to check on Sky. Warriors was talking with Spoone as Wild and Wind chattered nearby. Legend joined them, unaware that it was a bad idea to tune into the younger boys’ conversation.

“I was one of the subjects of Spoone and Purah’s experiments, so I know what it feels like,” Wild said. “It hurts, more than a bokoblin club but not as much as a lynel charge. It kinda feels cool, you know? Monsters usually leave surface scratches or wide wounds but with an injection, you can feel the needle going in your arm.”

“Cool! I can’t wait to get to the stable!” Wind chirped.

“Wild, Wind!” Warriors snapped. “That’s enough.”

A gentle voice came from beside Legend. “Breathe.”

“I am,” Legend gasped.

“Not enough.” This was Hyrule, nudging Legend’s shoulder. “Don’t pay attention to them, just take deep breaths. There’s nothing to panic about.”

“I’m not-” Legend stumbled, suddenly weak from a lack of oxygen. Din dang it, he was panicking, and that stupid phantom pain in his arm had returned in full force.

“That was uncalled for,” Hyrule muttered, holding Legend’s arm to keep him upright (and, unintentionally, driving the pain away). “How about some revenge after this is over?”

Legend noted that Hyrule was nervous too, though he was good at hiding it. He indulged the traveler’s need for distraction, helping him concoct a plan so epic that it would take multiple days to prepare. They were laughing by the time the stable came into view, having momentarily forgotten what was about to happen there.

Hyrule’s snickers trailed off as they gathered in front of the stable, falling silent as he and Legend watched Spoone dismount. The doctor handed his horse’s reins to Wild, who led it to the man at the front counter.

“It should only take me a few minutes to get everything set up,” Spoone announced. “Please come inside if you’re ready and willing.”

With that, Spoone entered the tent, leaving the heroes to mill around and send each other glances that said, Well? Go on!

Legend noticed that most of the others were starting to pair up, the more confident heroes taking the nervous ones under their wing. Wind had gravitated to Time, and Four to Sky. Legend nudged Hyrule forward, pointing him to Twilight. The rancher ruffled the teen’s hair before pulling him close, making him giggle. Warriors glanced at Wild before stepping closer to Legend.

“Stay outside the tent, all right?” Warriors said. “There’s a cooking pot over there, you can sit there until we’re done.”

Legend nodded and watched Warriors go to where Wild was waiting. The champion led the way into the tent, the rest of the heroes filing behind. Legend waited for the last pair to disappear behind the flap before walking over to the cooking pot.

A man was sitting near the pot, and gestured for Legend to join him. He wore a stable hand’s outfit and was meticulously polishing a torch for some reason. The man looked curiously at Legend’s sword and shield as the vet set them beside him.

“Nice baby sword, pal,” the man said. “I bet it can’t even keep a flame going. What’s its name?”

Legend couldn’t care less about indulging this weirdo, but it was a sufficient distraction from what he imagined was happening inside the stable. He sighed and lifted his sword, letting the blade catch the light just so. “She used to be known as the Master Sword, but now she’s the Tempered Sword.”

The man scoffed. “Well, it’s nothing compared to my weapon of choice! For I am Yolero, the hero of legend chosen to wield the Master Torch!”

“Hero of Legend? Yeah, right,” the veteran laughed. “I’d double check your history books if I were you.”

Their banter continued for a few minutes, but Legend’s mind started to wander. His ears pricked in the direction of the tent though he didn’t know what he was listening for.

Yolero noticed Legend’s lack of attention, changing the topic so fast that it took Legend a moment to adjust. “Say, why aren’t you in the tent with the rest of your gang? Don’t you care about protecting people and all that?”

Legend flinched, mentally cursing himself for doing so. “I’m… not ready today.”

Yolero huffed. “Why’s that?” “I’m just not. Not like it’s any of your business anyway.”

“Hmm.” Yolero leaned back, a calculating smirk on his face. “You’re not scared, are you?”

Legend gave him a silent glare.

“I mean, that would be pretty pathetic. A well-armed guy like you, too much of a coward to go in there and let a doctor stick a needle in your arm.”

Legend hissed, fingers gripping the wooden seat instead of clutching his suddenly aching arm.

Yolero’s eyes narrowed, knowing that he had Legend trapped. “Just as I thought. You’re scared and weak and willing to take your team, maybe all of Hyrule, down with you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Legend growled.

“Prove it then,” Yolero said, pointing at the stable.

“I have nothing to prove to you.”

“Suit yourself.” The look on Yolero’s face said that he knew that he had won.

Legend tried to ignore him, taking deep breaths and staring at the castle in the distance. His ears twitched again, expecting to hear something.

When he was young, he had sat in the examination room, white knuckling the table as he listened to sobs and screams from the other side of the thin walls. He stuck his fingers in his ears, pretending that he couldn’t see Uncle’s look.

No such sounds came from the tent. The youngest of them was nearly fourteen, plenty old enough to have some dignity. Legend was the only one who still acted like a child. A child and a coward who was taking the easy way out.

Warriors wasn’t going to be happy.

Before he could lose his nerve, Legend stood up.

Yolero had the nerve to act surprised. “Well, look at that. Maybe you’re not as much of a wimp as I thought.”

“Shut up,” Legend grumbled. “I’m doing this for me, not you.”

“Just go in there already!”

“I am!” Legend snapped, taking a step forward that was more shaky than he would like to admit. He could feel Yolero’s eyes on him as he walked over to the tent and reached for the curtain concealing the interior. There was no backing out now. He pushed the curtain aside, eyes darting to every corner of the stable.

Wild and Wind were sitting on the floor, laughing and poking each other’s arms. Warriors and Four watched them, the smith wrapped in the captain’s scarf. Legend was relieved to see Four’s small smile. Sky was seated at the table, head pressed to the wood while Time rubbed his back.

Then Legend looked to the back of the stable and saw Hyrule.

The traveler was leaning against Twilight, who held his hand in a firm grip. Hyrule’s eyes were closed, his lips pressed into a flat line. Spoone sat in front of him, at such an angle that Legend could see what he was doing.

There was a needle in Hyrule’s arm.

It only took a few seconds but Legend stood there, paralyzed, as he watched Spoone administer the vaccine. As the needle emerged from Hyrule’s arm, a surges of nausea told Legend that he had witnessed enough. He tore his eyes away, momentarily crossing gazes with Warriors. The captain’s expression of horror (and was that anger?) registered for a split second before Legend’s hands flew to his mouth and he stumbled out of the tent.

Legend barely made it to the woods behind the stable before he collapsed, the contents of his stomach lurching up his throat to spill on the ground. He retched and coughed, unable to hear footsteps running toward him. A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump, but another hand was already pulling his hair away from his face.

“It’s ok, it’s just me- just get it all out, all right?” his helper soothed, and Legend identified Four’s voice. The pitch was higher than normal, too- closer to Red’s voice. Great.

Four held Legend’s hair back until the vet finally exhausted himself, then waited as Legend spat the rest of it out. “All done?” Four asked.

Legend shivered, feeling Four rest his hand on his back to rub small circles. He stared at the mess beginning to soak into the dirt and opened his mouth to speak, but a pathetic whine grated out instead. Hot, angry tears burned Legend’s eyes, from pain and embarrassment and gods knew what else.

“Don’t try to talk if you’re not ready,” Four tutted. “Can you stand? We should get you cleaned up by the river.”

His legs shook like a newborn foal, but Legend managed to stand. Four took his weight without complaint, supporting the older teen as he led him down the hill to the riverbank. A sullen silence hung over Legend as he washed his face. He could tell that Four was full of questions that Legend wasn’t in the mood to provide answers to.

The sound of boots tromping down the hill saved Legend from that conversation.

“Lege… I told you to stay outside the stable.”

Oh no. A scolding from Warriors was way worse.

A heavy sigh. “There’s a man by the cooking pot who’s laughing his head off. I don’t suppose he had anything to do with this?”

A rush of fury gave Legend enough strength to stand again, but Four pulled him right back down. “Let him handle it,” the smith whispered, a blue gleam in his eye.

Legend didn’t even want to hold any pity for Yolero. If anything, he wished that he could go with Warriors himself. There was no way that Four would let him in this state, though.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, even after Warriors had gone. The air surrounding them was… awkward, almost tense, with only the river’s steady flow to cut through it. Finally, both of them attempted to speak at the same time.

“Lege-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

They both winced, Legend tearing a fistful of grass from the mud and Four reaching up to tap his feather earring.

“Do you… need some alone time?” Four offered quietly.

“Yeah,” Legend whispered. He stared straight ahead, only his ear flicking back as Four stood and hesitantly returned to the stable. He watched the sun shimmer on the water as it flowed over and around rocks and fallen tree branches and the occasional fish. It was a mesmerizing sight, mirroring the erratic whirl of Legend’s own thoughts.

He had known that he wasn’t ready, he had known that he didn’t have to face his fear yet. All it had taken was a few barbed comments from a stranger and he had marched right into the stable and made an absolute fool of himself. What had he achieved? What had he even hoped to achieve? Absolutely nothing, that’s what.

His ears, trained on a lifetime of paranoia and hiding, detected the rustle of something approaching from behind. Tiny feet, definitely not Sky or Warriors. Legend doubted that Four could sound that small even at his sneakiest. So who…?

Something soft and furry nudged his wrist, and he yelped at the unexpected touch. The sensation vanished with a jingle of magic. A few sparkles floated past Legend, then another flurry of them appeared above his lap along with a glowing blue bunny. The vet yelped again but the bunny was undeterred. Calm yellow-orange eyes stared up at him, and he blinked.

“What… what are you doing?” Legend whispered, afraid to move in case he scared the bunny away.

One of the creature’s antennae (ears? antennae) twitched and it plopped down, resting its head on its paws.

This was clearly some kind of magical rabbit, and his deeply hidden instincts were rousing with a gentle feeling of kinship. The little one must have sensed his brooding and come to help him feel better.

“Are you here to cuddle?” Legend asked, tilting his head a little. “Have you come to smother my storm cloud? I won’t blame you if you don’t want to be near me… I do it on purpose, sometimes, project my bad mood so I can deal with it myself. At least Wars and Four know better than to be around me when I’m like this.”

The bunny huffed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know… it’s just easier for me, okay? For them, too… they shouldn’t have to be responsible for my messes.” Legend laughed bitterly, soft enough that he didn’t disturb the bunny on his lap. “And what a mess I’ve made this time. I’ve ruined the group’s chances of complete immunity, Wars is about to give some guy the scolding of his life…” He swallowed, grimacing at the sour taste. “And I left a literal mess for some poor stable hand to find. I deserve to stew in my own misery for a while, don’t you think?”

He felt a pressure on his leg, like the bunny had tried to thump its foot but forgotten that it was laying down.

“Don’t give me that… here, will it make you happy if I pet you?” Giving the bunny plenty of time to escape, Legend stroked its silky blue fur. Sure enough, he felt it begin to happily purr.

“This is ridiculous, you know that? I acted like an idiot and what do I get out of it? A rabbit to vent to and cuddles by the river.”

The bunny simply nuzzled Legend’s hand, and he sighed.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, his thoughts gradually calming as he focused on the simple task of petting the bunny. The sun shone differently on the river, refracting pink and orange by the time a voice came from the top of the hill.

“Legend? Wild’s almost done cooking, are you ready to come back?”

Legend stayed silent, making a shooing motion with his hand. This, of course, had the opposite effect and the vet heard Four jog down the hill.

“C’mon, please? Wars wants to talk to you-” Four froze as he reached Legend’s side and the bunny came into view. He flapped his hands excitedly and squealed, “Eeeee- it’s so cute! Can I pet it?” His hand darted out and the bunny’s antennae flattened before it disappeared in a shower of blue sparkles.

“No-” Legend whined, reaching a hand out to empty air.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

The bunny materialized on Legend’s lap once more, staring at Four warily.

Legend sighed in relief, resuming the gentle strokes down its back. “You have to be slow and gentle. Let it learn to trust you before you touch it.”

“Sorry…” Four repeated as he crouched beside Legend. He offered his hand to the bunny, who sniffed it then bowed its head. Four smiled and gave it a gentle pet.

“Are you feeling any better?” Four asked softly.

Legend grunted, not looking up from the bunny.

The smith bumped his shoulder. “You know we’re not mad at you, right?”

Legend gave him a flat stare. “You don’t have to lie to me. I made a scene and a fool of myself… you shouldn’t have to put up with this.”

“That’s not true,” Four hummed. “Nobody blames you for panicking, and Wars made Yolero tell him what happened. He tried to bully you into doing something you weren’t ready to. We just want what’s best for you, and that means letting you take things at your own pace.”

“My pace is too slow. I should’ve been able to share the protection but because I’m not ready, we have a crack in our ranks. I’m just a burden-”

“You. Are not. A burden.” Four’s voice was low and serious, but he poked Legend with every word. “We look out for each other, okay? We need you to look after yourself too.”

The bunny grumbled agreement, and Legend groaned. “I’m not going to win this fight, am I.”

“Nope! You’re just going to have to accept the fact that you need to be patient with yourself, and we’re going to keep reminding you of that.” Four gave Legend one last poke. “But seriously, losing everything must have made you hungry.”

“It did,” Legend admitted. “Wild’s cooking sounds really good right now.”

“Come on then.” Four stood and offered his hand.

The blue bunny gave Legend a final nuzzle before bounding away, a trail of sparkles leading to thin air in the blink of an eye. Legend took Four’s hand and let the little smith lead him back to the stable, where Warriors wrapped him in his scarf (despite half-hearted protests from the grumbling teen) and assured him that Yolero had been sent packing to the Riverside Stable.

“Spoone said that he understands why you couldn’t join us today, and he can see you whenever you’re ready,” Warriors told him. “You don’t have to let fear guide your actions, all right? Please let us help you, bud.”

Legend bit his lip to prevent his scowl from turning into a smile. His brothers could be annoying, but it was nice to know that they wouldn’t give up.

[emedvs]

Day 5: Angst/Sick day

In the midst of a crisp Canadian evening, Noah found himself bundled up in his cozy bed, feeling utterly under the weather. He let out a series of melancholic sniffles and groans, his mood grumpier than ever as he scrolled through his phone, reading messages from friends excitedly chatting about a party he couldn't attend due to his wretched illness. One by one, his pals had abandoned him, except for Alejandro, who harbored a clandestine motive for sticking around.

Alejandro, masterfully playing the part of an irate mother, bustled around Noah's kitchen with exaggerated exasperation. He was engrossed in preparing a steaming pot of soup. "Noah, you must eat this soup. It will cure all your ailments!" he scolded theatrically, prompting an even louder groan from Noah.

Rolling his eyes and bundled up beneath the blankets, Noah reached for his phone and noticed a text from his friend Owen. "Hey, buddy, are you alright?" the message inquired. A mischievous grin crept across Noah's face as he glanced over at Alejandro, who was fervently mixing the soup. He quickly typed back, "Don't worry, I've got a hot nurse taking care of me," and sent it before burying his smile beneath the blankets.

Intrigued by Noah's sudden amusement, Alejandro approached Noah's bedside, raising an eyebrow. "What's so funny, mi amigo?" he asked, his tone genuine, although a hint of curiosity danced in his eyes.

"Nothin.." Noah mumbled, attempting to conceal his blushing cheeks.

Sighing good-naturedly, Alejandro decided to refocus on his mission: nursing Noah back to health. He gently spoon-fed Noah the steaming soup, despite Noah's protests. "I could do this myself, you know," Noah grumbled.

Alejandro chuckled softly, his heart fluttering with affection. "I know you could, Noah, but I want to take care of you," he replied, shooting a meaningful glance that locked their eyes for a lingering moment, filled with unspoken emotions.

Noah felt a comforting warmth envelop him, not just from the soup but also from Alejandro's caring presence. Perhaps being sick wasn't so bad when it meant spending time with someone you secretly harbored a crush on.

After finishing the last spoonful of soup, Noah couldn't help but complain about his sore throat and heavy legs. "Ugh, my throat hurts, and my legs feel like they're made of lead," he lamented genuinely.

Alejandro, still in his faux-angry mother persona, couldn't resist a teasing response. "What? Do you want me to massage your legs for you?" he quipped, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Noah's eyes widened at the unexpected suggestion. He looked at Alejandro with a mix of surprise and curiosity, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Alejandro, on the other hand, was taken aback by Noah's reaction but remained undeterred.

"Seriously, Noah?" Alejandro asked with a playful smirk, trying to gauge if Noah was serious.

Noah hesitated for a moment, then shrugged, attempting to play it off as a joke. "Well, if you're offering..."

Alejandro's baffled expression quickly transformed into one of intrigue. He couldn't deny the excitement building within him at the thought of massaging Noah's legs. With a dramatic sigh, he gave in, "Alright, fine. But just this once."

Noah grinned, secretly delighted that Alejandro had taken him up on the offer. As Alejandro began to massage his legs, the room filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by Noah's contented sighs.

As Noah's eyelids drooped from the soothing leg massage, a sudden loud notification from his phone startled him awake. In his half-asleep state, his foot accidentally collided with Alejandro's shin. Noah barely noticed the collision, too preoccupied with checking the message from Owen.

With a groggy voice, he muttered, "Sorry about that." But his attention was quickly diverted to Owen's message, which featured a winking emoji. Noah couldn't help but grin; it seemed Owen was well aware of Alejandro taking care of him.

Alejandro, feeling the impact on his shin but more focused on the interaction with Owen, raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?" he asked, trying to sound casual while still massaging Noah's leg.

Noah, still grinning, replied, "Yeah, Owen's just being Owen." He put his phone aside, not wanting it to distract from this unexpected moment of closeness with Alejandro.

The two of them continued the leg massage in comfortable silence, their feelings for each other becoming increasingly evident with each passing moment. It was a simple evening spent in each other's company, but it was filled with unspoken affection and the promise of something more.

Later on Noah's grumpiness persisted, even as Alejandro put on a Spanish movie and sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. The movie played in the background, but Noah was more focused on Alejandro's comforting presence. He couldn't deny that having Alejandro by his side was making him feel better, despite his persistent irritation.

Trying to suppress a cough from embarrassment, Noah ended up choking on it, accidentally smacking Alejandro's face. Alejandro quickly withdrew, his face reflecting a mixture of surprise and hurt. He held his cheek, his expression transforming into a sorrowful puppy face, genuinely heartfelt.

Noah, already annoyed by his own coughing fit, was now baffled by Alejandro's reaction. He stared at him for a moment, his annoyance giving way to confusion. "Dude, are you okay?" Noah asked, his grumpiness momentarily replaced by amusement.

Alejandro nodded, still wearing the sad puppy face, though now it was mixed with a hint of guilt. "I'm fine," he muttered, his accent making his voice sound even more endearing.

Noah couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously, Alejandro, stop with the drama. it was an accident." He shifted his gaze back to the movie, trying to hide the faint blush on his cheeks from the unexpected closeness.

Despite Noah's grumpiness and the awkward moment, the evening continued, and the two of them remained side by side, Alejandro's arm around Noah's shoulder and With Noah having dozed off, Alejandro decided to turn off the TV to let him rest peacefully. He reached for Noah's phone, intending to mute the notifications so that his sleep wouldn't be disturbed. However, as he unlocked the phone, he couldn't help but notice Owen's message that read, 'Noahhh you better be nice to your crush.' Alejandro's eyes widened in surprise, and he found himself staring at the sleeping Noah, baffled and intrigued.

He closed the phone, a wide grin forming on his face. "So, he does have a crush on me," Alejandro whispered to himself, barely able to contain his excitement. His heart raced, and he felt a rush of emotions he couldn't quite put into words.

Unable to contain his elation, Alejandro did something completely out of character. He squealed, a sound more akin to a teenage girl in love than the composed and confident guy he usually portrayed.

He couldn't help it; the revelation was just too much to handle.

After his mini celebration, Alejandro laid down beside Noah, careful not to wake him. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close with a soft, loving smile. The warmth of their shared body heat and the comfort of each other's presence helped Alejandro drift off to sleep, his heart full of hope for what the future might hold between him and Noah.

(now im finished with the alenoahweek even tho i was late for like 9 days oopsies, i already wrote like 5 chapters for the total drama highschool but i will post it when i write at least 10 chapter or more.. for now im just going to write other short alenoah stories or i could do other ships so i need ideas)

[avatar-anna]

heyyyy are u okay writing smthg about a miscarriage???

i am! i know i do this a lot, but this is another converted wattpad piece. enjoy!

tw for miscarriage, obviously

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

"So, Harry, you and your wife keep a pretty low profile when you're not touring or on a red carpet," Ellen says, her legs crossed casually in her chair. Harry tried not to eye the interviewer suspiciously, but he wasn't sure if he liked what this statement was leading up to.

"Erm, yeah. I guess you could, uh, I guess you could say that." There was truth to that statement, he supposed, but it wasn't necessarily on purpose. Harry and Y/n just spent so much time apart, they liked their alone time when they could get it. The moments he spent with just Y/n and their two puppies were Harry's absolute favorites.

"Is she here?" Ellen asked.

"Uh... yes. She's around here somewhere, I think."

"You don't know? She's not in the audience?"

Ellen and the audience laughed, and Harry tentatively laughed along with them. "I think she wanted to watch backstage. She, um, she was a little, erm, a little afraid you might ask her questions if she was sitting out here."

Y/n could hear the laughter from where she was in the restroom. While what Harry said was true, the main reason she was backstage for this taping was because she was feeling incredibly ill today. She woke up feeling under the weather, but didn't want to worry Harry, so she sucked it up and went with him to the Ellen taping like they'd originally planned.

What Harry didn't know was that Y/n was about seven weeks pregnant. She'd had some of the usual morning sickness, which she'd been able to hide from Harry for the time being, but this felt different. This wasn't the usual nausea she'd been feeling for a few weeks. Y/n had originally chalked it up to just catching a cold or something. People got sick, it happened.

Now, though, as Harry and Ellen continued their interview, Y/n went to the bathroom thinking she was going to throw up again, but immediately knew something was wrong when she felt a sharp pain in her belly. She choked on the sob that wanted to escape and schooled her features into something calm, knowing now was not the time to panic.

She walked with incredible care, wincing every few steps, trying to find someone she knew in the tangle of crew members and studio execs, trying her best not to draw attention to herself. Finally, she spotted Jeff standing a couple yards away.

"Jeff," Y/n called as loud as she could without being heard onstage. Clueless to her pain, Jeff turned and smiled good naturedly as she continued to walk over. As Y/n got closer, he noticed the thinly veiled grimace on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his hand immediately coming to rest on her lower back. Y/n eyed all the people milling around backstage, not wanting to talk about this in front of anyone. Jeff seemed to notice her apprehension because he quickly ushered her into Harry's green room where they could be alone. Away from everyone, Y/n felt the pain more than ever and bit her lip in an attempt to get ahold of herself.

"I'm—I'm, um, pregnant, but I think something's wrong," she confessed, holding her tears back with everything she had.

"Okay," he said, his voice calm and steady. "We're going to get you to a hospital. We'll tell Harry at the next commercial break, and—"

"No!" she blurted. "No, he—he doesn't know. Just wait until the end of the taping to tell him. Please."

Jeff looked conflicted, but he didn't really have time to argue with her. The more he looked at her, the more he realized they should've already left. "Alright fine. Come on, we gotta get you out of here."

Harry stepped off the stage fifteen minutes later, expecting to see his wife, but all he saw was his band packing up their equipment. He didn't even see Jeff, which was odd because he liked to be there for every minute of these things to make sure nothing went wrong. Mitch looked up to see a confused looking Harry, and his heart sunk, hating to be the one to have to tell him Y/n was in the hospital. He didn't know why, only that that's where Jeff was rushing her off to when Mitch passed them as they were leaving. Harry's blood went cold when the words left Mitch's mouth. Without another word or a second glance, Harry nearly sprinted off the set of The Ellen Show and got in his car. For a minute, he had no idea where he was going, but he looked at his phone at a stoplight and saw that his manager had texted him the name and the address of the hospital he'd taken Y/n to.

She was in a private room wearing one of those papery hospital gowns when he arrived. It didn't slip Harry's notice that she was being treated in the maternity wing, but in the moment, all he cared about was her. When he entered the room, his heart broke. Y/n, who was always so calm and level headed, had tears streaming down her face and her chest heaved with heavy sobs while Jeff rubbed her back soothingly.

When Jeff saw Harry at the door, his shoulders slumped, looking at a loss for words. Harry didn't say anything, just quietly slipped into the small hospital bed next to Y/n and pulled her into his chest. He wanted to know what happened, but didn't know how to ask. Though the longer they sat together on the little bed, Harry started to piece some of it together—the hospital, the tears, the way Jeff couldn't seem to look him in the eye. It killed Harry not to know for certain, but his focus had to be on his wife right then.

She eventually cried herself to sleep against his chest, and he was thankful that he'd gone with a soft sweater for his interview today. A doctor came in while Y/n slept, and Jeff stepped out of the room so she could talk to Harry alone. It felt like he was hearing everything underwater, all this medical jargon thrown around that he didn't really understand, but he got the gist: there was a baby, and now there wasn't. And this whole time, he had no idea.

Harry tried not to focus on that last part, trusting that Y/n had her reasons for not telling him she was pregnant. He desperately wanted to call his mother, to talk about this to someone, but he didn't want to leave his wife's side. Jeff stayed for as long as he was able, but Harry eventually told him he could go.

Later that evening, Y/n began to stir. Her eyes were puffy and red as she blinked them opened, and she looked confused, like she wasn't quite sure where she was. When she saw Harry and the hospital gown she was wearing, it all came rushing back to her.

"Harry," she said, her voice breaking. "I—"

"Shh, it's okay, you don't have to say anything," he whispered, pulling her close.

Harry had never seen her so visibly shaken up before, and it rattled him to see her that way. So many thoughts kept swarming in his head, but he tried to focus on Y/n and keeping her from falling apart.

When she was somewhat ready, Harry helped her slip into the pair of sweats and his hoodie that Mitch had brought over an hour ago. He'd come after Harry texted him, but didn't stay long, giving the two of them their space. She kept trying to explain herself, feeling like there was this guilt holding her heart hostage for not telling Harry about the baby, even if she'd only known for a couple of weeks herself, but Harry kept telling her all of that could wait.

"No," Y/n said on the drive home. "I—I need you to know why I didn't tell you."

"That can wait, darling," Harry insisted. "We don't have to do that now."

"No, I need to. Harry please." In all the time Harry knew her, he had never heard Y/n sound so broken. He desperately wanted to know what was running through her head, to take all her pain away, and if this would help, then he could sit and listen to her. He nodded, his eyes staying focused on the road ahead of him.

"I wanted it to be special, you know? And I—I know we've been...trying for a while, and when I found out a couple weeks ago, I was so excited, and I thought it would be such a nice surprise, especially because you've been working so hard recently." Y/n took a shuddering breath, and Harry reached over and took her hand. "You just—you have to know it wasn't because I was scared to tell you or because I didn't want it. Please, just know that."

Harry pulled over to a lookout point on the freeway, worried that he wouldn't be able to drive them home safely with the tears pooling in his eyes. Leaning over the middle console, he pressed his forehead to hers. He didn't know what he could say to ease her pain, didn't know how to feel about any of this, so he went with the one thing that hadn't changed, that they both knew no matter what happened. "I love you."

Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, feeling like a warm blanket had settled over her shoulders. "I love you too."

Harry kissed her, gentle and unsure if she wanted to be touched that way right now, but she kissed him back with the same amount of love and passion and intention that she always did. When he was sure neither of them were going to break down in the time it took them to drive home, he got back on the road.

He worried about his wife, wondered if he should call her mum, or any one of her sisters. But when they eventually made it home, Y/n told him in a feeble voice that she just wanted to be left alone.

She felt numb. There were so many emotions swirling around her at the hospital that the only thing she felt now was an all-encompassing weariness. She wanted Harry close, and at the same time didn't want him to look at her. She wanted to run until she couldn't anymore and wanted to sleep until today felt like a dream and not a cruel reality. Y/n looked at Harry and saw how much all of this sudden news seemed to be affecting him too. He did a good job of hiding it, but she knew him well, and he was almost in as much pain as she was.

Y/n wiped her tears and bent down to greet the furry little animals that had come trotting over to the couple at the door. She needed to be okay. For Harry and for her own sanity, she needed to be fine. Looking up at where her husband watched her carefully, she offered him a small smile she didn't feel. Harry knew what she was doing, and he knew that if she kept pushing her feelings away, she would explode. But Y/n was trying, and if she didn't want to talk today, then they wouldn't talk today. There was always tomorrow, and he wasn't going anywhere.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A few weeks later

"Hi, darling. How are we feeling this morning?"

Y/n was sitting up in bed, but Harry knew it was going to be a bad day when he saw that she hadn't changed yet, hadn't even gotten out of bed. It had been like this off and on for almost four weeks, and Harry didn't know what to do. He tried talking to her about it, but she never said much; he tried helping her take her mind off the mess of thoughts swirling about in her head, and it would work, but only for a little while. He'd called her mum, he'd called his mum, but they both told him that she just needed time and space, that the grief his wife was feeling wasn't the normal kind.

And they were right. Y/n felt like she had failed somehow, and when Harry looked at her, she felt like his gaze burned her. She didn't want to feel like this. Harry had been nothing but perfect since the night they came home from the hospital, but she couldn't shake this shadow that had passed over her, making her feel small and like something was wrong with her for not being able to do the one thing women were supposedly meant to.

She looked over at Harry with tired eyes, noting the way he was looking at her. Like she was about to flutter away with the breeze that blew through the open window. "I'm alright."

Harry smiled at her. Y/n's heart fluttered, but she didn't have the energy to smile back at him the way she normally did. They both knew that she was lying, but Harry continued right along. "That's great. Mitch and Sarah are coming over in a little bit. Why don't you come down and join us for lunch?"

She knew he was trying, and she knew that she should see their friends, seeing as Harry was really the only person she had spent time with in the last few weeks. But she couldn't find the energy to get up and spend time with anyone these days.

"Um, I'm still a little tired, but maybe another time?"

Harry's heart sunk down to his feet, but he kept his smile. "Okay. Another time then. If you need anything, let me know."

"I will. Thank you."

Harry went back downstairs, two dogs greeting Harry at the bottom of the staircase. "Go see mum," he whispered in one's ear. "Go on."

The dog trotted up the stairs, and he heard Y/n coo at her as she jumped up and joined her on the bed. Harry went about his normal routine, cleaning up a bit before his friends came over and scratching his and Y/n's other puppy behind the ears as he went.

Mitch and Sarah came about half an hour later, bringing lunch and a bottle of tequila with them.

"I figured we'd stay in and make margaritas," Sarah said, lifting the bottle up.

Y/n could hear talking and laughter downstairs, and she tried to ignore it. There was a part of her that had grown accustomed to the melancholy she'd found herself trapped in, and the guilt and shame she felt for weeks made it hard for her to get out of bed. But then she heard Harry laugh, and she could picture the way he threw his head back as his eyes crinkled in delight. Y/n realized she hadn't heard him laugh in weeks, couldn't remember the last time she genuinely smiled.

Pushing past everything that had kept her chained to her and Harry's bed, she got up, slipped into one of Harry's sweatshirts, and left their room. Her dog dutifully followed at her feet as Y/n carefully made her way down the stairs and closer to the animated chatter. Upon seeing Harry, the dog went up to him and started sniffing around. Harry turned, almost in disbelief. He stayed on the couch, blinking at his wife, who was now frozen on the last step.

Mitch reacted first, realizing that if someone didn't do something right then, Y/n would retreat back upstairs. He stood up and walked over and hugged her. She tensed a little at the contact, but it didn't feel alien or wrong the way she thought it would. And as Y/n tentatively wrapped her arms around Mitch, Harry beamed. He moved in his spot on the couch to make room for Y/n as Mitch walked with her to where he and Sarah were still seated. Mitch was whispering quietly to her, and though Harry didn't know what he said, he didn't care because she was smiling. It was small, and it flickered a little, but it was there, and she wasn't faking it.

Harry opened his arms up for her, and after giving Sarah a small hug, she settled in next to him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple. Y/n felt his smile grow against her head as she took his hand in hers. Harry sat back while Y/n spoke to Mitch and Sarah, her voice quiet and a little raspy from disuse, but it felt good to see her coming out of her shell a little bit. His thumb moved back and forth soothingly across her skin while she asked Mitch what he and Sarah had been up to, and if they wanted to stay for dinner. Things weren't totally back to normal, but this was a start, and both Harry and Y/n were looking forward to living again.

[only-omo]

ok but something ive never heard anybody talk abt ever and they should

tourettes omo

or at least tics, i understand why it may be a touchy subject bc awareness and stuff but like as someone with tourettes can i just say

i get bladder tics

and theyre luckily on the rarer side but like, it is literally ill just be doing stuff and then essentially suddenly either actually just wetting myself, or so ungodly close to it as im fighting the waves of desperation accompanying the muscle spasms and its

actually crazy

but like could you imagine your fc who has ts or some other tic syndrome (ts au ? medication ? idk man) and theyre hanging out with friends just doing whatever or something like that, and basically they just start wetting themselves out of nowhere, leading to prying questions (good naturedly or not) about why they didnt go if they had to that badly

maybe theyre peeshy and this kind of thing is semi normal already; or they arent, and they then have to delve into explanations on the fact that either they didnt know/didnt have to go, met with varying degrees of belief, or that they did know, but they also were certain it wasnt near close to bad enough to have an accident yet, and maybe through rambling even admitting straight up that they literally just pissed themselves regardless of need.

or if they didnt even wet fully, anywhere from a rather messy leak that they cant hide, similar to above; to one thats smaller and less obvious, but maybe they freeze up in a really conspicuous way, still bringing attention to themselves, and maybe they suck at playing it off, or just have really pushy/concerned friends, or both, so they end up still having to admit to just having peed themselves a little, despite there being no immediately visble/no visible damage, and then try to explain that they arent in desperate need of a bathroom despite that

or maybe they are. maybe now their body is confused and theyre teetering on the edge of a full accident all of a sudden. and of course theres the constant worry nagging in the back of their head that theyll tic again and lose it the rest of the way, but also trying not to think about it for fear that focusing on it too much will make it happen, which is an entirely real possibility

not to mention any tics that arent actually their bladder, but help just as little, for instance, i get vocal tics but they arent often real words, so like,, invlountary whines and groans that have nothing to do with anything but sound so desperate, paired with jerky/restless movements that arent a real potty dance but at this point only the one ticking themselves can tell the difference; which doesnt matter much in the end anyway, as theres still a real chance theyll wet regardless

or someone who is actually rather desperate, and theyre trying to play it off for one reason or another, but despite their control in terms of potty dancing, they continually lose focus on their tics, which eventually simulate the same thing, and they keep drawing attention to themselves anyway

the absolute confusion and misdirection it causes for everyone else because no one can ever tell when they actually have to go, and eventually they learn that it doesnt really matter if their bladder isnt already completely empty (which only really lasts for like 5 min after using the bathroom if that, so)

[projectionistwrites]

GESTALT | 2000

YEAR TWO.

pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!babysitter!reader (4.4k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: age gap, angst, slow burn, graphic depictions of mental illness (schizophrenia, agoraphobia), descriptions of violence/blood/gore, self–harm, suicide, death, grief, strained parental relationships, no smut in this part NOTES: potentially ooc!joel? also, please heed the warnings, this content may be triggering to some.

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MARCH 8, 2000

“Girlfriend, you were on fire!”

You hugged Sarah's sweaty body against your chest tightly, swaying her back and forth in excitement.

“You’re—squeezin’ me too tight!”

The girl struggled, and you released her from your hold.

“Shit, sorry. Got excited. Seriously, you rocked out there, Smiles.”

You nudged her shoulder, and Sarah beamed, turning towards her father and uncle, who were gazing at her with equally as impressed expressions.

“MVP over here! Way to go, kiddo.”

Uncle Tommy tousled her hair playfully, and she swatted at his hand with a laugh. Joel knelt down slightly and Sarah immediately rushed into his hold, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Good game, baby girl. ‘M so proud of you.”

You watched on, smiling softly to yourself at the interaction. You pulled at the windbreaker on your body as the breeze picked up. Families and players were quickly clearing off the field, and you took note of the setting sun as you turned back to the group.

“Can we go get pizza, now?”

Sarah whined, and Uncle Tommy chuckled to himself, reaching down to pick up the girl’s soccer bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“‘Course we can. But your old man’s buyin’.”

Joel scoffed good-naturedly, turning to follow the two back towards the parking lot. He glanced over his shoulder to find you staring down at your phone screen with a frown, brows furrowed in concern.

“Everythin’ alright?”

He asked quietly, letting some distance form between him and Tommy and Sarah. You shook your head, as if trying to clear fog from your eyes, blinking rapidly, and looked up at him.

“Sorry—what?”

“I said, is everythin’ okay?”

Joel tried again, stepping closer to you as worry crested his features. You let out a breath, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

“I—yeah. Yeah, everything’s—everything’s fine. S’just—my mom hasn’t answered the phone since we left this morning, which is...weird.”

The statement loomed in the air, heavy and daunting.

“That... doesn’t usually happen, then?”

Joel questioned, and you shook your head fervently.

“No. She—I always make sure to check in with her every hour, and now it’s been—it’s been six.”

He could see the way your chest was beginning to rise and fall a bit faster now, and he reached out to rest a soothing hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, ‘m sure everythin’s fine, Y/N. Probably just fell asleep, or somethin’, right?”

You drew in a breath, before nodding slowly. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you started walking back up the hill towards your vehicles, where Tommy and Sarah were waiting in the distance.

“I’m probably gonna head home, just to check. It’s an hour long drive from here, and after—”

“You should go, darlin’. Sarah won’t mind. We’ll bring you some food for when get back, alright?”

You smiled gratefully at him, leaning into his side as you ventured onward.

It wasn’t even a full hour later when Joel received the phone call.

It was your name on the screen, buzzing with an incoming call. He finished his sip of beer, listening to Sarah ramble theatrically as he picked up the phone.

“Hey, sweet thing. You get home okay?”

“Is this Mister Joel Miller?”

The voice was foreign to him, a woman he didn’t recognize, and he immediately got up from the table and walked towards a quieter corner of the bar.

Sarah immediately silenced at her father’s abrupt departure, watching his expression shift as the phone call went on. She couldn’t read his lips very well, or take stock of every emotion that registered on his face, but one thing was for sure—something was very wrong.

Moments later, he rejoined them at the table, reaching for his keys and jacket.

“Dad, what—what happened?”

Sarah asked weakly, eyes wide and fearful. Her fingers latched onto the sleeve of his canvas jacket as he slipped it on. He looked down at her with a frown on his face, bending down slightly so she could hear him over the hubbub in the crowded space.

“You’re gonna spend the night at Uncle Tommy’s, alright?”

Her face fell. It's not that she didn’t like spending time with her uncle, but that meant...

Tommy’s gaze snapped towards his brother in confusion, brows furrowed, but when he saw the look that Joel gave him, it told him everything he needed to know.

“Sounds like fun, huh, kiddo?”

Tommy smiled warmly at his niece, but she didn’t tear her eyes away from her dad's face.

“What happened, Dad?”

Joel inhaled deeply through his nose, steeling himself, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby girl. Promise.”

The man quickly figured out why he was lucky enough not to get pulled over on his way home, having exceeded the speed limit an average of 20mph the entire way—every goddamn cop in the state of Texas seemed to have congregated on his block.

Red and blue lights illuminated the slick asphalt as he slowly rolled down the street, narrowly passing between the rows of parked police vehicles on either side of the street. The tires of his pickup thumped as he passed over the curb into his driveway, throwing his car into park before rushing out the door with a slam.

Face pelted with raindrops, he jogged towards the center of the chaos—the small two-story suburban house that had become his daughter’s second home for almost a year. He approached a uniformed women standing in the driveway, her hands on her hips as she observed the bustling activity of both police and EMTs in and out of the front door.

“Where is she?”

Joel's voice cut through the noise, and the woman spun around, startled at the sudden intrusion. Somehow, Joel knew this was the woman he spoke to on your cell.

“You Mister Miller?”

She quirked a brow, and the man nodded firmly, the cold sprinkle of rain beginning to dampen his tousled hair. The officer’s face softened as she reached into her pocket, offering Joel the cell phone she had borrowed. He took it in his hands, the weight of it accompanying the growing gravity of the situation on his broad shoulders.

“She’s on the back porch. Won’t move, won’t speak to anyone. Asked if there was someone we should call, and all should could manage was your name.”

Joel followed her around the side of the house, between their shared side yard, his boots sinking slightly in the damp grass. When they made it to the back door, his stomach dropped—you were sitting on the rickety wooden steps that led up to the back porch, arms wrapped around your knees and vacant eyes staring straight ahead at nothing.

The man let out a stuttering exhale, turning back to the woman beside him.

“What happened?”

He asked quietly, and the officer shook her head.

“Eight years on the force, and I ain’t never seen anything like it. Suicide, but—fucking brutal. Wrote on the walls with blood and everything. Poor girl, her momma—musta been real messed up in the head.”

“Why all the cops? If there wasn’t a crime or nothin’—”

The woman shuddered, lips pursed.

“Needed to document everythin’. Like I said, the stuff in there—woman was seriously disturbed. This was planned, without a doubt. We gotta secure the scene and the cleanup team’s gotta clear the place out. Not gonna be ready for inhabitance until the morning, at the very least.”

He mulled this over in his head, mind wandering at what possible atrocities lie within those walls.

“The kid wouldn’t talk to us—any chance you know what was wrong with her mom?"

“Paranoid schizophrenic and agoraphobic.”

Joel had never met your mother, nor did you speak about her often, but he had overheard your phone calls with her psychiatrists and picked up some prescriptions for you on occasion.

“Nasty combo. We tried to get the girl to go to the hospital for a psych eval, but she wouldn’t budge. You got some place she could stay, maybe get warm?”

Joel nodded, unsurprised to hear of your refusal. He glanced at you again, your posture and expression unyielding. He thanked the officer for her time before slowly making his way over to you, hands buried in his pockets. He stopped a few feet in front, unsure of the best way to approach the situation. He wasn’t particularly experienced when it came to offering comfort to others—particularly in situations such as this. But, he figured, if he were to make an exception for anyone, it would be for you.

He closed the gap between the two of you, squatting down until his gaze was level with yours. He took great care not to startle you, attempting to grab your attention by reaching up and gingerly resting a calloused hand on your forearm. Your eyes, which had previously been staring straight through him, regained their focus, and after several blinks in rapid succession, your gaze zeroed in on his face.

“Cowboy.”

Your voice was thick and hoarse, as it hadn’t been used in awhile. The corners of your eyes crinkled as you smiled softly up at him, studying his solemn expression carefully.

“Did Sarah get her victory pizza?”

Your calmness was unsettling. He knew you were in shock—could see it in the misting of your eyes, the vacancy in your expression, the sluggishness of your responses. He lifted his hand again to brush a strand of your wet hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. In any other instance, you would've blushed at the intimacy of the action; now, you continued to simply watch his movements.

“Yeah, she did. Missed you, though.”

You frowned.

“I know, I wish I coulda come, but I had to—”

Your voice trailed off slightly, as if suddenly dazed. Your eyes cast downward as your brows furrowed, as if trying to remember something from long ago. Your exhale was shaky as you sighed, tears finally starting to sting the back of your eyes.

“—oh, God—”

“Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you outta this rain.”

He reached for your shoulder and coaxed you to your feet, your arms wrapping around your abdomen in a protective stance. You followed him blindly, letting him guide your across the grass and to his front door as the rain began to escalate into a torrential downpour.

He opened the door for you, gesturing for your entry, and you begrudgingly stepped into the threshold, shivering from the dampness of your clothes. The door clicked shut behind Joel as he filed in behind you, stalking towards the staircase. When he turned around to make sure you were following, you were stationary, arms hugging yourself as you stood your ground, body trembling and jaw quivering.

“Come on, sweetheart. What’re you waitin’ for?”

You frowned again, your eyes looking at him incredulously.

“’M soaked. Gonna get the floor all wet.”

You grumbled, and the man threw his head back with a sigh, trying to be patient with your obstinance. He walked back over to you, kneeling down in front of your body. Your brows furrowed, but he quickly gestured for you to lift up a leg, which you immediately obliged to. He began dutifully unlacing your sneaker, slipping it off your foot followed closely by your wet sock, before repeating the process on the other side. He placed your discarded footwear beside the door and stood again, offering you his hand. You accepted Joel’s invitation, his large fingers gripping yours as he lead you up the stairs and into the (his) master bedroom.

He released your hand momentarily, leaving you briefly as he disappeared inside his closet, emerging moments later with a worn Beatles T-shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts. He offered them to you, and you grabbed them mindlessly, body still shuddering with tremors every once and awhile.

“You wanna shower?”

He offered softly, trying to catch your eye, but you just shook your head in response, and he nodded.

“Well, at least go and put somethin’ dry on. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Y’know, if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.”

Your voice was small, but relief washed over Joel as you cracked the joke, thankful you still had at least some amount of fire within you to be teasing him. His cheeks darkened slightly as he rolled his eyes.

“The bathroom, Y/N. Go on.”

You shook your head slightly, a barely-there smile on your lips. Joel let out a long sigh when the bathroom door clicked shut behind you, sitting down on the edge of his bed and running a tired hand down his face. The flashing of red and blue lights peeked through the cracks between the blinds on the window, and got up to draw the curtains closed before reentering his closet to change out of his own damp clothes.

Your shirt stubbornly clung to your body as you pulled it off, the skin beneath dappled with residual rain and sweat. Without much thought, your wet sports bra joined your discarded shirt on the floor before you slipped the large tee over your head. It was big—you practically drowned in it, but the slightly threadbare fabric was soft, and somehow, it smelled like Joel, which filled you with a deep sense of comfort. Your jeans were the worst to take off, scraping at your legs as you peeled them down, slipping the mesh black shorts over your hips and tying them tightly in order to get them to stay up.

You were standing in front of the closed bathroom door when he reemerged, holding your neatly folded clothes in your arms, looking lost and confused. Joel walked towards you and your eyes met his, soft and sympathetic—it made you feel small. He took the clothes from you before gesturing towards the queen-sized bed.

“I’ll be right back.”

As Joel left the room, presumably to stick your clothes in the dryer, you felt yourself grow uncharacteristically bashful. It was one thing to shamelessly flirt with the man in order to ruffle his feathers, but it was a completely different thing to be wearing his clothes and crawling into his bed. He felt sorry for you—that was the truth, you knew. He was trying to help in the only way he knew how. The same way he would take care of Sarah.

Because you were only just a kid.

He returned once more to find you laying atop the blankets, curled into the fetal position on the far right side of the bed, as if afraid to take up too much space. He could tell just by the way your body was shaking that you were crying.

A warm hand pressed in the space between your shoulders, and you flinched, but the soothe of his voice eased your heightened senses.

“It’s alright, darlin’. Come here.”

You rolled over at his request where he had pulled the covers back, inviting you to lay beneath them. You scooted closer, sliding your bare legs between the cotton sheets as he pulled the blankets back over you, carefully tucking them beneath your chin. You didn’t dare look at him, staring straight up at the white ceiling, afraid that you may burst into sobs at any moment.

Joel stayed seated beside you on the edge of the bed, carefully watching the pained expression on your face. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, cheeks flushed pink. After adjusting the blankets for you, he let his hands rest on the left side of your collarbone, on the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Neither of you spoke for several minutes, tension hanging heavy in the room.

“It’s my fault, you know.”

Small and uncertain, your voice rang out, and Joel squeezed his eyes shut tight at your admittance.

“Don’t say that, that’s not—”

“It is true.”

You insisted, pressing your head back into the plush of the pillow.

“She’s—she’d been cheeking her pills, Joel. I was always so careful to make sure she took them, and I keep the bottle in the glovebox of my car so she can’t get it when I’m not home, but... we thought she was doing better, but it—she just wasn’t taking them anymore. Said she hated the way they made her feel, made her brain feel cloudy, but—she didn’t understand.”

The man stayed quiet, looking down on you carefully as tears slipped down your cheeks. He wanted to protest, to interject, but he knew you needed to get this off your chest before it suffocated you. All he could do was sit and listen.

“They—they said she’s stuck them under her mattress. Said—she’d been planning this, Joel. Saved the pills for when she was ready, when she’d have time to pull it off, and—God, there was blood everywhere. She wrote on the walls. Don’t come upstairs, in big block letters. For me. She—she didn’t want me to be the one to come find her—”

A strangled sob escaped from your lungs, overwhelming your words as you began to break down.

“Oh, babygirl.”

Joel laid down beside you as you clung to his bicep with all of your might, tears drenching the sleeve of his gray shirt. His other arm came to cradle the back of your head, holding you close against him as you wept.

“She—they said it was the blood loss that did it. She—cut her arms real good with a kitchen knife before she took all the pills and got in the tub. Said—said she wanted to be sure it worked.”

Your breathing was labored and strained, huge gulping breaths sucked in between stuttering sobs, voice muffled from being pressed into Joel's side.

“She left a note. Practically wrote an entire fuckinm’ manifesto about how the world is gonna end and—and how she doesn’t wanna be around when it does.”

The man tried to keep his own breathing slow and even, hoping the steady rise and fall of his chest would help keep you grounded in reality. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as you shook.

“She asked me to come with her, Joel. She wrote about how she doesn’t want me to have to live through it, too.”

That one broke something in him. He pulled you into his chest tightly, turning so your entire body was enveloped in his hold, warm and comforting and steady. You breathed him in, face pressed into his torso as you listened to the steady rhythmic beating of his heart.

His hand carded through your tangled hair, his other hand rubbing soothing circles along the soft expanse of your back. It took close to half an hour for you to calm down, the frantic mourning eventually slowing into soft, shaky exhales.

You pulled away from him slightly, face splotched with redness and moisture dotting your complexion. You looked up at him, his hazel eyes searching your face, lips downturned in a concerned frown. He reached up and wiped a stray tear from your face, jaw rippling as he clenched his teeth.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You started, voice thick with emotion. The man shook his head forcefully, ending your apology before it even began.

“None a’ that. Please. Got no reason to apologize. Just—wish there was somethin’ I could do to make it go away.”

Your lip quivered again, and you scrunched up your nose, trying to prevent a fresh wave of sadness from overtaking you. Instead, you offered a sheepish, lopsided half-smile.

“If only magic kisses could fix this kinda stuff, too, huh?”

Something shifted in his expression, then—something indiscernible, something that made your heart lurch in your chest. A sort of resolve in his eyes, the set of his jaw.

Your smile faded and your mouth parted as you felt his large hand cradle the back of your head—eyelids fluttering shut, his lips met yours with the most tender, featherlight brush of a kiss. The coarse slide of his stubble against your chin sent sparks down the expanse of your body, burning straight beneath your skin and sizzling all the way to your fingertips. As soon as it started, it was over, his rugged mouth leaving the hot chase of your lips as he pulled his face back.

You were practically panting, eyes searching his in pure disbelief. You could still feel the singe of his breath against your cheeks and you studied you with hooded eyes, almost waiting to gauge your reaction.

“Still magic?”

His gruff voice managed, barely above a whisper, and the corners of your lips tweaked up at the corners.

“Dunno. We might have to try a few more times, just to make sure.”

When you closed your eyes again, however, you felt the press of his lips against your hairline, brushing over your forehead briefly. You blinked once, then twice, and when you looked at him again, there was an unfamiliar sadness in his gaze.

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

He urged, and something about the command made you suddenly aware of the exhaustion weighing on your limbs. You let your head sink back into the crook of his neck, feeling the warm press of skin against your nose as you finally let yourself drift off.

JULY 12, 2000

Joel was grateful for an escape from the scorching sunlight, the echoing of children’s screaming and laughter reverberating around him as he walked into the fenced-in public pool, searching for his daughter and her babysitter.

The pool was large, in an L-shape, with a diving board on one end and the shallow area on the other. It was packed today, as it was the perfect way to beat the summer heat and to keep the restless kids of the neighborhood entertained. Practically every lounge chair was occupied, and Joel’s eyes searched the crowd in hopes of locating familiar faces. He’d promised Sarah (and you) that he’d join you at the pool that afternoon after he and Tommy finished up some more work on their latest project, and he had finally finished half-an-hour ago, now sporting his blue swimming trunks and a white T-shirt, a pair of aviator sunglasses resting on his nose.

He wandered towards the other end of the space, his eyes briefly pausing on the body of a young woman, her long slender legs stretched out along the chaise, one arm lifted lazily above her eyes to shield her face from the sun. The thin fabric of her bright yellow bikini only covered the intimate parts of her body, accentuating the softness of her curves and leaving her sweat-shining skin on display. Joel should’ve noticed he was staring, but when her arm lifted from blocking her face, he felt his jaw go slack.

“Howdy there, cowboy.”

You called out, squinting in the harsh light to make out Joel’s figure standing a few feet away. He approached you cautiously, letting the beach towel in his right arm fall onto the unoccupied chair to your left.

“Glad you could make it.”

Joel huffed out a laugh, sitting down beside you for a moment as you turned your neck to face him, your hands coming to rest on the skin of your toned stomach. He swallowed.

“Too fuckin’ hot out here today.”

Joel grumbled, slipping out of his sandals. You laughed at his clear surliness, casting your eyes away to focus in on Sarah at the other end of the pool.

“Smiles is over there, made a few new friends. Time to reapply sunscreen in—”

You check the watch on your wrist.

“—twenty-one minutes.”

Joel’s lips quirked, grateful for your attentiveness for his daughter. He reached for the bottom hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head, flinging it to the side before adjusting the sunglasses on his nose. Your eyes briefly skimmed over the newly-exposed skin, the broad expanse of his chest and the dark happy trail that extended down his navel and disappeared into his shorts. You tore your eyes away quickly when he turned to face you again.

“You’re not gonna put on sunscreen?”

You questioned, quirking your brow, and Joel rolled his eyes.

“Did you?”

He questioned, his gaze trailing down the length of your body once again, briefly stalling on the valley of your breasts before finding your face again.

“No, but that’s because I’m trying to get a tan.”

Joel shook his head, but reached for the spray can of sunblock nonetheless, making a very careless effort to cover his body before setting it back down. You watched his half-assed attempt with an amused grin, before something sparked your memory.

“Oh, by the way... I’m staying.”

Joel paused briefly, confusion passing over his face.

“Here, I mean. Texas. Dad said he’d keep payin’ for the house if I wanted to stay here, at least ‘til school’s over.”

The man’s eyes brightened.

“Son of a bitch. You’re kiddin’.”

“Nope.”

You popped the P sound, relieved to be sharing the good news.

“Can’t get ridda me that easy.”

Joel chuckled.

“No complaints here. I’m glad—er, we’re glad you’re stayin’. Woulda been hard on Sarah for you move away.”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief, watching the way his eyes carefully avoided yours, his words skillfully dodging his true intentions.

“Just on her?”

He met your eyes, then, studying your face with a forcibly neutral expression—you could’ve sworn there was something resembling longing just beneath the surface of his guise. Joel looked away quickly, but not before his eyes stole another glance down at your perfect breasts, almost of their own volition

“I’ll yell for you when it’s time for Sarah to reapply.”

You granted him the mercy of changing the subject. Joel grunted in response, standing to go join his daughter. He watched you roll from your back onto your stomach, your swimsuit exposing the round globes of your ass. He reluctantly tore his gaze away, turning to leave.

“And, cowboy?”

You called back to him, and when he turned to face you, you beckoned him closer with a come hither motion. He stood beside you, hands on his hips, looking down at you expectantly.

“Just, for future reference...”

You started, sitting up slightly to lean in towards him conspiratorially, and he leaned down slightly to hear you better.

“...those sunglasses aren’t reflective.”

Joel’s brows furrowed, but when the implications of your statement dawned on him, he felt his face flush. Before he could try to defend himself, you turned your face away, settling back into a comfortable position.

A few brief moments passed before his footsteps could be heard stalking away from you. As much as you tried to prevent it, you couldn’t stop the triumphant smirk from overtaking your face—yeah, you had definitely just caught Joel Miller checking you out.