#in a way it’s fitting since today i’ll be singing for people

[harrylights]

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[monstersflashlight]

Can we get a sequel/prequel to, Honey I’m Home? Like a story on the love story leading up to marriage. Or maybe even the story of how the Minotaur husband proposed? My favorite story you wrote <3

Hi there! I think this was @strawberrypoundtown idea a looooong time ago, and I thought it would be great to mix it with this request because it feels perfect. I don’t know if this fits the love part that much, but well, they are very horny for each other since the beginning. (You can read "Honey, I'm home" here)

Shared shower

Minotaur x fem!reader || rut, cum play, oral sex, overstimulation

You are always the weird one who decides to shower at weird times of the night, everyone thinks it’s because there’s less people in the shared dorm bathroom, but in reality you just enjoy to singing in the shower and prefer not to have an audience for it. Also jerking off. You couldn’t jerk off in the same room as your puritan roommate, and you weren’t ready to have meaningless sex with anybody… Well, maybe with certain minotaur that you’ve seen around the dorm. You would definitively have meaningless sex with him. But that wasn’t going to happen because he had a girlfriend. Or so you’ve heard. It’s not like you two interacted before.

So it’s two in the morning when you roll out of your room in your way to the showers. You being a night owl never paid so much. You enter without thinking it twice, there’s never anybody there at those hours, just you and the silence of the night. But not today. Fuck.

You could hear on shower running and a very heavy breathing, over the stall you can see the tell tale sign of a minotaur, his horns too tall to be hidden by the door. Double fuck. You wanted some alone time to get one off before bed, thinking about certain minotaur that you were sure was in that exact stall. Triple fuck. No singing, no jerking off. Could your luck be any worse?

And then you hear it. The unmistakable sound of flesh against flesh, of someone jerking their cock in the shower. Oh fuck. Your pussy gets wet instantly, knowing that not only your minotaur crush is in the shower, but also that he’s jerking off… That makes everything else a thousand times more intense. You walk to the stall next to his, slowly and quietly, trying not to alert him of your presence. You close the door behind you and rest your back against the wall, listening intently, trying to hear some more sounds from him.

And he doesn’t disappoint.

He starts groaning and grunting, like he’s about to come. You take your hand down your body, your towel discarded, and start touching your aching center. You know it’s wrong, so, so wrong… But he sounds so pretty when he whines and you are so into him. You start fingering yourself almost casually, not thinking about it too much, you always had something about voices, and him grunting like that is doing wonders for your pussy.

You are rubbing your pussy with your eyes closed when you hear the stall door being opened and a rough voice saying: “What are you doing?” He looks flushed and sweaty, in the most erotic way possible.

You reach for the towel to cover yourself as you start apologizing profusely. “Oh. Shit. Fuck. Sorry. I’ll leave. Sorry.” You run for the door. But then he whines and you turn around, scared that something happened.

He’s grabbing his huge hard on with his big hand, jerking himself as he looks pained. “What is wrong with you?” You ask, confused by the situation. You know he was about to finish, he sounded like he was about to finish, but his dick looks painfully hard.

He sighs, his hand not stopping as he says: “I’m in rut, and I have no partner to help.” The despair in his voice breaks something inside of you, your hand tightening around the towel as you look intently at his face, trying to avoid looking at the movement of his hand.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” You ask, confused all over again. You swore he had a girlfriend, you saw them kissing a couple days ago.

“She cheated. And now I’m in rut and... And I think I’m gonna die if I don’t come soon.” H sounds pitiful, and the whine he lets out makes your clit scream for attention. You rub your thighs together and try to focus on his words.

But then your stupid brain says: “Oh shit. What can I do? How do I help?” He laughs without any amusement, like what you just asked is a cruel joke.

“Are you gonna let me breed you for hours until I have no cum left?” At his words you blush harder than you’ve ever blushed. Your face must be so red you can’t even feel the blood in the rest of your body. “Go back to your room, I’ll deal,” his tone has so much hurt in it that you feel awful for him. He turns around and you stare at his wide back. You want to find the cheating girlfriend and kick his ass. But his words remind you of a problem you have in common right now… a horny problem.

“Maybe… Maybe I can be your rut partner?” He turns his head to look at you with eyes as big as plates and his nostrils flare, grunting when they catch a sniff of your desire in the air.

“I’m gonna ask this only one time… are you sure?” The fact that he even asks is enough for you to nod and let go of the towel you are holding against your body. He looks at your body like you are his next snack.

He is on you instantly. He pushes your body against the wall and devours your mouth in one fluid motion. You can only moan against his mouth. He controls every second of that kiss as you can only grab onto his shoulders to balance yourself on your tiptoes. He realizes soon enough and grabs you by the waist, urging you to get your legs around his middle. The movement makes your pussy and his huge dick make contact and you break the kiss to throw your head back, completely overwhelmed by the feel of him. He has ridges. Fuck. He feels wonderful, and he’s not even inside of you yet. He’s going to ruin you.

He kisses your neck as you pant, mumbling against your skin: “I need to be inside. I need to fuck you. To rut you. To breed you.” His words are filthy and incoherent, but you don’t care. You want the same as him: to have his dick buried in you.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant.

You are so wet he can get inside of you in one long thrust, taking all the air off your lungs as he starts fucking you like a machine. Your back is scratching against the wall but you don’t care, you are bouncing on minotaur cock and that is worth a thousand scratches at least.

He grunts and bellows as he fucks into you without any caress, without any worry, but it doesn’t matter that he’s only focused on himself because you are so on edge after fingering yourself earlier than not three minutes later you are crying out as he covers your mouth. You come messily around him, adding more juices to your fucking and making him go in and out of you like knife through butter. You are going insane with pleasure, and he just keeps going and going.

When you less expect it, he throws his head back, his horns looking amazing over his head as he comes. And comes. And comes. He fills you up so fucking much you think you are going to explode. You think your body can’t hold it together anymore. But then he pulls out and you hear the rush of come, leaving your body and landing on the floor.

He looks down and moans at the sight of your messy pussy, just to lift your body to his head. He cleans you out with his tongue as you grab his horns for dear life. It’s fast and hard, and you are coming around his rough tongue fast and hard. Your brain is fuzzy with everything that just happened. So many emotions and so many sensations, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s impaled in you once again. His dick hitting every part of you as he fucks into you again.

And again.

And again.

He goes for what feels like hours, probably are. He fucks you full of come, and then cleans you out with his tongue just to start again. At one point you can’t even hold your legs around his waist, but he doesn’t care. He has enough strength to hold you against the wall as he keeps fucking your pussy. It’s too much, it’s too good… and he keeps going.

“We need to move,” he says between thrust in what feels like the twentieth round.

“What?” You ask, your brain completely out of reality.

He keeps thrusting into you, but his eyes look less crazy and wild than before, he seems calmer, his thrusts more controlled. “People are going to wake up soon and we can’t be here when they do,” he explains. You only understand about half of that.

“Okay…. Are we… Are we done?” You ask, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth, and his dick still buried inside of you making your brain go extra slow.

“No. I- I still need more. We can… We can go to my room?” He says it like a question and you can only nod as your head falls over his chest. He hugs you tightly as he takes some big towels and throws them around your body until you are decent enough to walk to his room.

You don’t know how many times you fuck, how many orgasms he coaches off you, but by the time he falls asleep, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore.

When you wake up, he fetched you some breakfast and helps you shower tenderly, your legs giving up under you every few seconds as he chuckles every time. When he asks you out after that, you can only say yes.

[007reid]

stalemate. spencer reid

join the taglist | part 1

summary: spencer reid isn't very fond of you, and that you understand. you aren't fond of him either.

a/n: this was the first spencer thing i wrote and since i cant write a lot rn , i’ll push this out for u guys!! enjoy <33 lmk if you want a p2 🤍

the team didn't welcome you coldly, but they didn't hold their arms open for you to run in, either. you understand completely. they're a family, and have worked together efficiently without you for long enough to not need a second opinion from you. yet a help wanted slot was posted and you have been waiting for an excuse to transfer out of your shitty department anyway, so you didn't have anything to loose. however, now that you sit here listening to the entire team's hearty laughter bouncing off the walls, you regret ever coming to this 'celebration,' or whatever. you regret transferring out of your old department. it was shitty, but it wasn't as shitty as this.

you feel inferior, swirling the noodles in your plate absentmindedly as you think about whether or not your old boss would let you in if you come crawling back. because you would. in a heartbeat. the bau's giggles and inside jokes were foreign to you, and you didn't want to sulk in case of ruining their mood but you can't start smiling and pretending that you fit in either; that's even worse. you would excuse yourself, saying how it's late and everything, but it's fucking seven thirty. and considering how you're surrounded by the best profilers in the fucking nation, they will read the excuses by just a single glance at your face. you'd rather not risk it.

it's not like anyone's rude to you either. you look at jj, then prentiss, then to garcia. they're all leaning into each other, completely in their element. hotch is looking at them affectionately, and you rarely see the man smile but he's smiling now, at peace. then you glance at morgan, who has his arm thrown over reid, drunkenly singing and-

reid.

it's not like anyone's rude to you, except for dr. reid, who's always on his fucking guard and keeps to himself like he's all so superior and mysterious, a man with 3 ph.d's and smarter than everyone in the room and loves to remind everyone of it.

you don't realize you were staring until he catches your eye, and you immediately look away, indignant and scowling at yourself for being caught. you stab at a piece of red pepper with your fork and aggressively bite at it. fucking doctor spencer reid, you think bitterly. he looks so miserable and irritated all the time and you hope it stays that way.

***

flashback~

it's your first day at the bau and you're so excited you can't even keep your breakfast down. you've been waiting for a breakthrough your entire career, and today is the day. you heard about what it was like working in the bau from people who have watched them. they're a family.

as you button your blouse, you grow giddy at the thought of what today would turn out to be like. everyone will introduce yourself to you, and you'll take turn complimenting each other, and then you'll find an obscure interest with every single one of them to connect over. they're a caring family, and you can't wait to receive and give some of the care as you become apart of the team. you leave with your brown bag hanging over your shoulder and a pretty, modest outfit, with your hair done not too deliberately.

the people who told you the bau is like a family was right. as you introduce yourself to them, you can't help but like these people. there is something so effortlessly cool about them, making you drawn to them immediately. jj was at the front door first, waiting to walk you in, introducing herself and the moment she finished a short woman runs towards you, jewels on her ears neck and arms clinking together as she throws herself at you, and the hug feels like one from your favorite aunt. "it's been so long since we had someone new around here!" she squealed. "i'm penny garcia!"

a woman with black hair was lingering around nearby too, and she spoke cooly and slowly, the complete opposite of garcia, "i'm emily prentiss." a man behind a cubicle poked out, his eyes kind and cheerful. he winked and said his name was derek morgan.

"you already met gideon and hotch when they interviewed you, hotch's out right now, he'll be back by afternoon. gideon's getting his morning donuts. and there's reid too," says jj. "but...hey, where's reid?"

the entire team looked around. you didn't know who to look for, but you looked around anyway.

"he was just here a second ago," penny said. "maybe he went to make copies of something."

"you'll see him later," jj brushed it off, "he haunts the place. reid is about your age, comes here early and leaves late. i'm gonna show you to your new cubicle, 'kay?"

you had nodded. jj assigned you a packet to look over, and the hour passed by with you concentrating on the packet and exchanging brief small talk with everyone to get to know them. the absent reid never showed up. by the third hour, your fingers were twitching for a coffee. you set the packet down and walked over to penny's desk, since she was the nicest and least intimidating out of all the agents. "hey," you said, slightly shy. "is there a coffee machine...?"

"oh! yeah, i forgot," she jolted from her seat. the energy in that woman never cease to surprise you. "we should've given you a tour. the lunch room is right down the hall, honey."

"grab me a coffee too while you're there, yeah?" prentiss called out to you from her desk. "black. thanks, y/l/n."

you nodded. you didn't mind picking up another cup, and doing favors for someone does make them like you better and you really wanted to fit in with the team. there was no way in hell you're going back to your old desk job; it lacked the adventure you needed and the people there had no soul to them--you shuddered at just thinking about going back there.

you found the break room with no issue and immediately bee-lined for the coffee machine. you started on prentiss' first, grabbing the green starbucks black-coffee pod from the stand. a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"she takes nespresso."

shocked, you whipped around. at the small lunch table, with papers spread everywhere was a man with brown curly hair, pushed back and out of his eyes. he looked unimpressed. you recognized him immediately; he must be the famous doctor reid who was absent from his desk all day.

flustered, you take the pod back out and puts it back in the stand, taking out nespresso. you knew better than to doubt the guy; he probably heard prentiss' voice asking for coffee and he's been around for ages, he knows what coffee she drinks. "sorry," you muttered. "she didn't specify."

he blinked slowly, and if you had just focused on his eyes alone, you would've immediately been comforted; he had kind, doe eyes, patient and gentle. the scowl on his lips and the flare of his nostrils told you otherwise, though. he didn't like you, and he's not even bothering to hide the fact. while the coffee machine whirls, you stand there awkwardly, and reid scoffed an unamused snort looking at you before turning back to his papers. you turned your back to him and stare at the steam gathering on top of the pot.

what the fuck? you didn't expect to start beef with your coworker on your first day, and yet...you rack through your mind--what did you do? maybe you offended him once on the street and he remembered your face? but you have never seen him before, you're good with faces, and if you had seen a face as pretty as his, you'd remember.

at that thought, you mentally scowled yourself. he gets annoyed just from looking at you, dumbass, you chided yourself. the coffee machine beeps, and you poured out a cup, before starting on your own.

"are you the new agent?" reid spoke again, his voice flat and emotionless but you're no newbie to the game, you knew the hostility was there.

"i am," you said, turning around and found that he was already looking at you, trying to sound as confident as possible. you thought it worked, but when his eyes racked your face for tells, you hesitated. "i'm y/n y/l/n."

"i'm spencer reid," he said. you hide your grimace. i know. "sorry i didn't come out to greet you with everyone, i was kind of caught up," he said, gesturing to the messy pile of papers on the table, but his voice didn't sound apologetic at all. you could take a hint.

"no worries," you said lightly, "i understand."

he narrowed his eyes. you repeated what you said in your head. it was a perfectly normal thing to say. what was suspicious about it? he nodded once, and the coffee machine came to save the day as it beeped softly. you turned around, poured yourself a cup, then headed for the door as fast as you could manage.

"it's nice to meet you doctor reid," you said hurriedly as you're out the door, remembering your etiquette. you want everyone here to like you, remember?

"likewise." he said shortly. and that was that.

end flashback.

***

you've been working at the bau for five months now. you'd say you know everyone pretty well, and the team made room for you to slip into their lives generously. all of them except for--predictably--doctor spencer reid. he keeps his guard up dangerously high and whenever he does decide to acknowledge or address you, it's to prove you wrong or to tell you that you're on to jackshit and you should shut the fuck up.

well. he never said that to you specifically, but you know he wanted to say it. it probably recites in his mind like a mantra.

you thought you had got along with everyone pretty well, minus the doctor you won't speak of, but now that you're sitting here at this team party, you realize you haven't made any progress at all. the team doesn't need you; since you're on the team, all they can do is to be polite to you and accept you as one of their own, but at the end of the day, they're a family and you're just the stray cat lurking outside their house looking for any spare food or love.

outside the office, jareau, prentiss, garcia, hotch, morgan and reid becomes jj, em, pen, still hotch (but more affectionately), derek and spence and you stay as y/l/n. you're tough, and it shouldn't make you feel so upset but it does. you suck it up and laugh along with everyone and you are fine with that, as long as at the end of the day, you get to throw yourself in bed and scream the frustration out into your pillow. it was starting to look up a little bit, until doctor spencer fucking reid has to go butch it all up.

jj and emily has their heads all together along with penelope as they shout out which man she should swipe right on tinder and somehow, you found yourself sandwiched in the middle of these women, genuine tears springing up to your eyes from how hard you're laughing. emily is creative with her insults and it leaves you and jj hanging onto each other shaking with laughter, holding each other in place so that the both of you wouldn't end up on the floor. you feel good. when you look up, however, you see reid's sneering, obnoxious face looking back at you, a beer on his lips and morgan talking next to him but he's more busy looking down on you. for the past five months, you've been letting it slide--emily had pulled you over once and told you how reid feels about change, and you tried to get it, you really tried, but there are limits to your trying.

you try to ignore him and turn back to penelope's phone, jj and emily oblivious and still going at it and yelling out "left! left! dear god, get that man off the screen!" but the excitement is drained out of you. you shake the thought in your head; it's not that serious, you tell yourself, but another part fights back. it is serious. he might be smarter, and more experienced, and works faster, and better, but you both have the same job. he doesn't have any right to be such a fucking dick, and what the hell did you even do? you had just walked in the office one day and when he looked at your face, he had decided immediately that he wanted you gone and have tried to express it as openly as possible ever since.

you don't understand, and you don't know what you did to deserve being so looked down and underestimated. and it hurts, too, and from just a single read of your face he must've known how much you wanted it, to be apart of the team; he's definitely doing it deliberately.

okay, the last part isn't true. you're just paranoid. you untangle yourself from the group, saying over and over again "gotta use the restroom guys...i'm sorry, i'm sorry--" and when the attention is off of you, you walk over to spencer and grabbed at the tacky sweater he has on, dragging him up.

"hey," he whines, annoyed but giving up to you easily. you can sense morgan's amused stare but you ignore it. when you're both almost out the door, he yanks himself out of your grip. "i can walk by myself, okay?" it's dark, but you know he rolled his eyes. you lead him outside to the back of the place and he follows closely behind, but not without grumbling about it. "what do you need?"

you pat your back pockets for your pack and the front pocket for your lighter. usually, you'd ask your company if they're okay with you smoking, but that's the last thing you'd be doing when it comes to spencer. cupping your hand over the cig to prevent wind, you light the cigarette up.

"you smoke?" spencer asks. he sounds surprised.

"sometimes," you inhale, keeps the smoke in your lungs for a second, and exhales, making sure most of it blows into spencer's face. you can tell that it did, but he didn't cough. poker face, you'll give him that.

you take a couple more breaths and spencer (surprisingly) waits for you silently, and when you don't feel like smoking anymore, you throw the cig on the ground and grind it with the rough heel of your boot. you look up at him.

sometimes, you get mad at spencer for how unreasonably pretty he is. he has these big eyes that you swear has glitter in them because they're so fucking beautiful in the sun and when he smiles (which is rarely, around you) the lines on the sides of his face scrunches up like a chipmunk and his eyes would crinkle until it disappears from how wide his smile is. it makes you want to bash your head inwards.

the moon, shining on his face and highlighting his high cheekbones and the wisps of his curls is not helping your case right now. you wonder how a person so beautiful can have such an ugly personality. you know that spencer's personality is not entirely ugly, though; you've seen the way he acts around the team, but when it's you, he transform into an entirely different person. no one has ever been able to tell you why. he's nerdy and giggly and has this charming, childish energy to him when he talks, and you've seen it, inside meetings you're not in and when he doesn't know that you're around.

you're sick of it. without his cruel act, you think you and spencer would make great friends. he's the only person about the same age as you in the bau, and he takes the train home, just like you do. he's afraid of walking past this creepy abandoned movie theater on his way there and you are too. you both read toni morrison and children's books. it's a shame.

you look at him, and it's the only thing you can think about. it's a shame.

"why do you hate me, reid?"

you mean for the sentence to sound demanding, like a confrontation but it comes out weak and wobbly. you feel your guts being punched out of your body from the embarrassment. you sound pathetic, and you're afraid to look up, afraid to see the ridicule on spencer's face and you wouldn't blame him for it. but all you received is silence and when you look up, spencer just looks confused. he stands there like a victim when he's the one who's been acting like nothing but a total ass to you. and that caused the rage you needed.

"answer the damn question, doctor," you say harshly. this unfreezes his out of his trance, and he looks down. it's quiet for a while, and right when you were about to start demanding again, he says, quietly:

"i don't hate you."

and it sounds like a bad fucking lie.

"you don't hate me?" you ask, your voice a lot calmer than how you feel. "you don't hate me but every time i open my mouth it offends you? you don't hate me but you sneer at me all day long, every single time i look at you you're already looking at me thinking about how fucking stupid i am. you don't hate me but on my first day you abandoned your desk to work in the fucking lunch room because you didn't want to see my face. i don't know what the fuck i did to upset you, reid, but whatever i did i don't deserve this bullshit you're putting me up with!" you didn't realize that your voice was getting progressively louder until you're yelling, unconcerned and unaware of the raging party inside. "i get that you don't like me, okay, but i-"

your yell turns into a gasp when spencer grabs your face and crash his lips against yours, aggressive and all teeth. before you could even register what's happening your body goes pliant and you unconsciously lean in, but then spencer rips away and you and shoves you forward like some cheap doll.

"what the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, trying to gain back your balance and spencer's quick to catch you swaying on your feet. his hand finds its way to your mouth.

"goddamn it y/n, keep it down," he whisper-yells. "the entire team must've heard you--"

"get off of me!" you demand, but it sounds muffled and distorted through his hand . you thrash around but he holds you steady, too firm for you to fight against.

"promise not to scream and i will," spencer grimaces. you go limp and quiet and he slowly moves his hand and then backs away, like some scared deer. "wasn't that so hard?"

you stare at him. he's leaning on the railing now, looking at the moon. the moon looks back at him.

you try not to think about the small seconds after he’d kissed you and what it meant. it means nothing. "there are better way for you to get me to be quiet," you say, a little bit angrily. you should be fuming, but you find that you no longer have the energy. he turns to you.

"i didn't think it through."

"you not thinking through something?" you snort humorlessly. "i guess there's a first time for everything."

spencer sighs. “y/n…”

it’s the first time he’s called you by your first name, and it doesn’t help his case at all. "you still haven't answer my question, reid," you say, as coldly as possible (which is not much, admittedly. all the rage you've bottled up over these past few months you've already wasted on that rant and now you just feel tired. and you want to go home).

"i'm afraid i don't have an answer you'll be satisfied with, y/l/n," spencer spits back, matching your tone. maybe even colder. it shocks you a little, how a person with that sweet of a face and voice can be this much of an asshole. it's a waste of a human, honestly.

and it's not that you're saying spencer reid is handsome, either, because handsome doesn't mean anything if the person is a jerk. but everyone can admit he's easy on the eyes. conventionally attractive, one could say. a conventionally attractive jackass, one could also say.

"you're saying you just hate on me for so reason?" you say. "i'm a profiler too, reid, not some intern running around bringing everybody coffee. i see the way you are with other people. you act like a fucking angel, kind and considerate, but when it comes to me--"

"the team, they're my family, y/l/n," he snaps, "i'm sorry for not treating you like family when you're just a stranger." and it hurt, but you give him that one. you know that you're not one of them, it's been made painfully obvious to you, on multiple occasions, each blow harder than the last. but that's no excuse to treat you like a piece of shit, like a brick laying on his way. what, did he act like that with everyone too when he first entered the job? causing scenes with emily and hoping she won't punch him in the face for it?

"i'm not asking you to treat me like family, reid," you grit through your teeth. for a genius, he can be so fucking dense. "i'm just asking you to treat me like a coworker and not some inexperienced kid who just waltzed into the place with no qualifications. is that too much for me to ask?"

he stay silent at that. a breeze visits, and his curls dance. you unconsciously wipe at your lips, the feel and memory of it still photographic on your mind.

after a while, you get tired of waiting. "if you're not going to say anything, i'm going home, reid," you say finally, not expecting a response and not receiving one. not surprised, you turned away and start to head inside. you stop by the door. "i know i'm not really 'part of the team,'" you say, scared that you might sound too honest but it's hard to care too much now, "it's too late for me to transfer back to my old department, they've already replaced me. if i could, i would, and get out of your hair. i guess i'm sorry for not being what you expected."

the moment the words slipped out your mouth, you cringe. you're starting to sound way too weak and you don't want to sound that way, especially not in front of spencer reid, who's probably going to torment and laugh at you inside his big ass head forever. you leave before you can say anything else even more stupid and humiliating. spencer doesn't leave his spot.

***

when you come into work the next morning, it's like the entire world flipped.

there's a fresh cup of coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming and the logo on it says it was from the coffee shop close to the office. when you look around, trying to find the perpetrator you catch emily's eye across the bullpen, who smirk and shrug innocently.

you stride over to her cubicle, eyes glancing briefly over spencer's. his satchel is there, but he's nowhere to be found. you set the cup on her desk, the hard paper making a loud, confrontational sound. "explain."

"i don't know what you're talking about," she says, blinking her lashes. emily can be a great liar when she wants to, and right now, it's like she's not even trying to put in the effort. you narrow your eyes. something's definitely fishy.

"yes you do. tell me."

"i don't know what you're talking about," she repeats, stubborn and sly about it. "somethings should explain themselves."

"who left coffee on my desk this morning, prentiss?" you demand, a step away from stomping your feet like a child. she's playing unfair.

"take a sip," emily says, a suspiciously plotting smile on her painted lips. "see if he got the order right."

"so it's a he," you say accusingly. "you do know who it is!"

"'course i do," she scoffs. "now take a sip."

you could only oblige. bringing the cup close to your lips, you take a precautionary sniff. "there's no poison in here, is there?"

emily snorts. you take a careful sip, clicking your tongue, judging, and then tipping your head back and getting a large gulp. it's possibly the best coffee you've ever had in your life. you don't know why you haven't visited the place earlier. it's definitely exactly what you take in your coffee, alright, but better. it's sweeter but sharper, and it tastes like heaven on earth. you could bathe in it if you could. it's godsend, and that's an understatement.

"jesus christ," you breathe, looking at the sticker on the cup in wonder. emily chuckles.

"so he did get the order right," she says proudly. "knew he would."

"emilyy," you move onto your next strategy. if pressure doesn't work, bribery will. "who bought me this. tell me and i'll bring you coffee from this place everyday for a month." it's a win-win for both sides. you're going to start visiting this place from now on anyway, might as well pick up an extra one for her. it's a small price to pay for such a sacred piece of information.

emily remains firmly resilient, not falling into your bribes. it's fair, emily takes black, and it's hard to mess black coffee up. it probably tastes the same everywhere. damn her. "two months," you challenge. nothing. "three!"

bribery, crossed off the list. next strategy. if bribery doesn't work, whining will.

"emilyy," you cry, clutching onto the coffee as you turn her chair back and forth, spinning her in frustration. "please,"

perfect timing as always, hotch passes by, coffee cup in his hand and files in the other, frown already edged on his face despite it being so early in the morning. "y/l/n," he scolds. "stop bothering prentiss and start on your paperwork. prentiss, no phones."

without another word and two eyerolls behind him, hotch walks away. you start towards your desk but you leveled emily with your best puppy eyes, but she doesn't budge. you settle at your desk, and start pulling out things from your bag. if she doesn't want to give you the information, you'll figure it out yourself.

so a guy bought you coffee. thank god there isn't many guys in the bau, making the list easier for you to narrow down. drawing up a mental checklist, you immediately cross spencer reid off, making sure his name is blacked out by a red marker, memories of last night are still floating around in your brain.

morgan is next on your list. he is a plausible target. he's a sweet talker, after all, and loves to flirt, but the person he would bring coffee to is garcia, not you. they're basically work spouses. and if it was him, why would he start bringing coffee to you now, all the sudden? and there's no way morgan would've known how you liked your coffee, he doesn't remember his own sometimes and liked to switch things up. morgan gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

hotch is next. definitely not. he doesn't even offer to pay at social events (but always end up paying). he shouldn't even be on your list. crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

rossi. rossi's got the mind storecloud of a computer, he knows everything and pays attention to everything and remembers everything. its what makes him such a good unit chief. so he definitely would've remembered how you take your coffee. he probably knows how everyone in the entire fbi takes their coffee. but if it was rossi, emily wouldn't have been so sly and secretive about it, because there's nothing special to hide. rossi gets in one of his affectionate moods sometimes and is pretty obvious about it. once he got garcia a whole box of designer chocolates, or whatever those were. rossi's name gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

you evaluate your list, stumped. you start lingering on spencer reid's blacked out name, considering it before scolding at yourself. no chance.

"whatcha thinkin' so hard about?" penelope asks lightheartedly, bouncing by. she stops at your desk, an inquisitive smile on her face. you look up and she squeals. "ooh, your coffee's received!"

your attention's immediately grabbed. "you know who bought me this?"

"don't know a thing!" penelope sings. she does a zipping motion at her mouth, throwing the zip away. "ping! the zip is down the drain."

"what are you and emily hiding from me?" you demand. "however much the guy is paying you to keep quiet, i'll pay you double!"

penelope whistles, and emily spins around in her chair to face you. "that is a pretty good deal," penelope says. "but the guy paid us his loyalties, and well..."

you sigh in defeat.

"and unlimited donuts every monday from now on," emily quips.

"i can do the unlimited donuts!" you say enthusiastically. finally, something you can work with. "every monday and fridays. how about that?"

"sorry honey, no deal," penelope grins, flaunting away. emily smirks irritatingly from across the room. you go back to work, but your mind lingers on the list.

who?

***

the coffees start to become a stable. you found that it's no use picking up your new favorite coffee from the shop because when you walk into the office, there'll be one waiting for you, still hot.

the profiler gears start turning. it has to be someone who arrives only minutes before you. maybe a secret admirer from another department? but then there would be an identifying note, a card for a date or something. no secret admirer would go under the radar for that long, and how you he know how you take your coffee?

you crafted a plan. you're going to start coming to work a ten minutes earlier and hide out in the dark. it should've been an immediate solution, but its so desperate you wanted to have it as your last resort. when you have bribed and begged everyone on the team for the identity of this man since apparently the entire team fucking knows and wants to keep from you, you decide you have to pull out your one last ace.

right before the morning that you were going to do it though, the entire team got flown out to arizona.

you'll do it when you get back.

***

something is extremely strange about spencer reid.

he's been strange ever since the night you dubbed in your head as the conversation, avoiding talking to you unless he absolutely has to and when you do get partnered up together, he would treat you like an acquaintance. not a rival. it's a fresh breath of air from being the end of his cruel comments to someone he's reluctant to work with, but it's definitely an upgrade.

so you did manage to get through his thick head.

[glo0b]

So this is love?

I do not own the characters or art

Content: Yandere!Knight!Sebek Zigvolt x Princess!Yuu/F!Reader, mentions of Prince!Silver x Princess!Yuu/F!Reader

TW: Yandere themes of course and slight mentions of death

note: I wrote this for a class project so I was limited lol. I wish I had more time and could have put more gore in it, sad day. BTW it's in Sebek's POV

word count: 1429

Here I am, Sebek Zigvolt, a knight of the Bair Valley kingdom and lover to Princess Yuu, walking to her sleeping quarters. Oh, I just can’t wait to see her beautiful face! I clutch the flowers in my hand and smooth my green hair back before opening her door. “Yuu!~ I brought you a surprise!~” I pause as I look upon the empty room. I step inside inspecting the room, it seems like someone left in a hurry or was taken in a hurry with objects out of place and thrown on the ground. “No, no, no, no, she can’t be gone! Where is Yuu!?”  My booming voice bounces off the walk as I rush through all the places she could be. I search the halls of the palace in a panic. My heart beats against my ribcage rapidly as I am unable to find my beloved Yuu. 

I stop in my tracks when I overhear other knights talking of how Prince Silver of the Moonlight Kingdom had taken the princess on a trip. “Prince Silver sure is handsome, I bet the princess will pick him as her husband.” The knight speaks in such a casual tone, of course he doesn’t know how horrible Prince Silver is! He would never be a fit man to marry Princess Yuu! “I heard the reason the prince is named that is because of his silver hair-” I drown out the conversation as their talk continues of that horrible Prince Silver. It seems like I’ll have to take a trip to Moonlight kingdom myself. 

At night I planned to sneak out and take my horse out of town. I saddle up Romeo and get on. I named my horse Romeo since Yuu’s personal horse was named Juliet, silly to name the horses after characters in a love story I know. I didn’t pack much since the Moonlight kingdom is only in a day of travel. I tug the reins and Romeo begins to move. “Don’t worry love, I'll be there soon.” I whisper to myself so the other knights wouldn’t hear me leaving. 

It takes time but I finally arrive at one of the towns in Moonlight Kingdom. I pay for a room at an inn and put Romeo in the stables. This town didn’t seem that bad at night, of course there were those few drunken fools running around like any town would have at the dead of night. Though I didn’t see any shady folk I kept my hand on my sword just in case. For now I’ll rest in my bed and wait till morning to investigate where Yuu could be. “She can’t be far, she just left today….” I think out loud as I slowly drift into a slumber.

I wake up to birds singing at my window, groaning as I get up. “I hate those annoying chirps!” I grab my small dagger from my bag and slam the window open in an attempt to rid the small bird from the area. The small green feathers of the bird are stained with its red blood, the small screeches fill my ears. I flick the bird off my blade, the bird falling to the ground twitching. I wipe my dagger with my handkerchief. “What a shame, such a pretty green. Yuu would have loved it.” I throw on my tunic. I wouldn’t want to draw attention to myself with my armor, it clearly had the symbol of the Bair Valley kingdom. 

Walking outside I look around at the people walking around. They all seemed quite cheery and excited. The streets were decorated and filled with singing and dancing people. Carts filled with food and crafted goods. I grab a man’s arm to stop him and ask him what’s going on. “You sir! What’s this festival for?” The man looks at me confused. “Don’t you know? It’s a festival for the prince and his soon to be wife!” I release the man’s arm in shock. The prince was forcing Yuu to marry him already! I have to move quickly! Before the man could say anything else I dash away.

 I make my way to the grand castle, many guards roaming the area. I examine the tall wall blocking entry. The bricks didn’t seem too difficult to climb. Putting my foot in one of the cracks I begin to climb the stone wall. Putting my hand on the top of the wall I hoist myself up over the wall. I look into the small garden beyond the wall. My feet hit the soft grass with a thump. Perhaps I should pick some flowers for my darling? I lean down and pluck a few lilies. “These will be a perfect surprise for Yuu” I mumble to myself as I sneak towards one of the windows to the castle. Peering into the window I don’t spot any servants or guards walking the halls. I push the window up and carefully climb inside. 

I creep up stairs and through hallways until I hear a familiar voice singing a small tune. “I’m coming, my love!” I whisper out to myself. I push the wooden door open silently so as not to be detected. There I finally see my Darling Yuu! I watch as she brushes her soft, long, black hair, gods I bet it smells delicious. I step forward. “Dear, is that you?” I hug her waist from behind. “Oh yes it is!” I squeak out happily, I’ve waited so long to hold her in my arms. I feel her freeze in my arms and I drop the lilies in concern. “Is everything okay, Darling?” I feel her push me away and my heart sinks. 

“GET AWAY FROM ME YOU CREEP!” She looks so angry but scared, what happened to make her feel this way? “What do you mean darling? I came to save you!” I step forward but stop when I feel a stinging sensation on my cheek. I reach up and cradle the cheek. She had slapped me! Why would she slap me, her knight in shining armor! “Silver! Guards! Help! He followed us her-” Before she could continue screaming her head off I cover her mouth. “Stop yelling! They’re not here to save you, I am! Why can’t you understand I came here for you! I love you!” I tried but couldn’t hold back the tears from falling from my green eyes. Yuu started to fight against my grip. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go! I was meant to save you and you were meant to fall for me! Why can’t you get that! Just love me!” I feel my heart sink even more when Yuu’s bedroom door swings open revealing the man I despised. 

I let go of Yuu and push her on the bed so she wouldn’t get hurt. “Get away from her, she obviously doesn't want you here.” Silver glares at me. “No! She loves me and I love her!” I draw my dagger from my pocket. “I do not want to fight you, old friend. We can still get you the help you need…just further away.” I clench my fist at the idea Silver proposes. “I can’t leave her! I won’t go anywhere!” I swing my dagger at Silver but he dodges. He grabs my hand trying to disarm me but I use the opportunity to knock him into the floor. 

Though the dagger is knocked out of my hands I use them to choke him. “I can’t let you have her! I can’t, I can't, I can't!” My eyes widen as I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I look down to see blood dripping down my tunic, I look behind me to see Yuu holding my newly bloodied dagger. “D-darling, why?” My lips quiver as I let go of Silver and fall to the ground. “You were hurting him! I just-” My body starts to feel cold, everything seems to quiet now. I grab out to Yuu and smear my blood on her white dress as she falls to her knees. This isn’t such a bad ending for me, is it? I have my darling by my side as my life leaves my body. This is all I could have asked for when it came to my death. My vision starts to fade out. This is it for me, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you Darling. “Goodbye, Darling….” My body goes limp as my vision goes black. I can’t hear anything anymore, my body no longer has warmth. So is this love?

================================================

Goodbye~! Drink lots of water and get lots of rest dear readers!

[marina41trench]

Nikaidou Yamato - 16PRODUCERS RabbiChat

Tamaki: Iorin come to Yama-san’s rooooom

Tamaki: Hurryyyy

Tamaki: I

Tamaki: o

Tamaki: riiiiiiin

Iori: How vexing.

Iori: Or rather, there is still time.

Have you done your homework?

Tamaki: (king pudding emoji) (cat emoji) (rabbit emoji)

Iori: Please do not dodge my question with such emoji.

Tamaki: Geeeeez Yama-san you should get him here too!

Yamato: Ichi

Yamato: The room’s tidier than before and I’ve prepared zabuton[1]. Will you come here?

Iori: Somehow, the way you invite sounds repulsive?

Yamato: No way?!

Tamaki: The way you invite sounds like an old man

Yamato: I’m the lead today, right…?

Iori: Anyway, I’ll be on my way.

Tamaki:

Tsumugi: Thank you for your work!

I was wondering when I’ll get a notification, but everyone’s already assembled…!

Yamato: Great work, Manager

The three of us have gathered in my room just now

Yamato: Tama laid out lots of sweets and juice

Iori: It’s like a field trip

Tsumugi: I can imagine it! (laugh)

What kind of sweets did you prepare?

Tamaki: Shredded and dried squid[2], crackers, jerky, choco, potato chips, gummies, marshmallow, cookie

Yamato: I’m thankful for the first half of the list

Iori: It is getting late, so let us start

Tsumugi: I agree…!

So, let me explain the aim of this project once again.

Tsumugi: Our discussion will be done via RabbiChat as there were expectations from the other party to see everyone acting naturally, as if having a conversation over a dining table together as opposed to a meeting place.

Tsumugi: I hope I could hear the thoughts of the producing group and the one being produced!

Tamaki: First of all, Yama-san was really happy about it!

Yamato: Ough…

Iori: Or rather, he was very festive.

He had an eccentric mood when he sent a message earlier.

Yamato: I feel really embarrassed now.

Tsumugi: I’m happy to hear Yamato-san’s inside story! (laugh)

What did you feel when you learned that Iori-san and Tamaki-san will be your producers? Yamato: Well… as said earlier, I was happy!

Yamato: I’m sure everyone already knows this, but I’ve always wanted a comfortable place to live, and the people around me have provided that.

Yamato: But Ichi can see through what I’m thinking and knows I have a pathetic side.

I’ve looked forward to seeing how he’ll get through me.

Yamato: Tama is the same too. He suggests things no one has thought of. He can get to the bottom of things.

Yamato: So, they know how to bring out a side of me I’m not even aware of.

Tamaki: Fufun!!!!

Iori: Fufu.

Yamato: Can you two not eat chocolate while looking so proud (laugh)

It’s going to get stuck in your mouth (laugh)

Tsumugi: It’s kind of making me moved to tears…!

Tsumugi:  You’re still close to them despite having the largest age difference, how did you produce him and come up with the song?

Iori: To be honest, we had a dispute over it.

Tamaki: Yea.

Yamato: W-wait. I didn’t know that…

Iori: It wasn’t an argument, but more of a constructive discussion on how enchanting you should be with regards to this project.

So our direction in production is divided.

Tsumugi: I want to hear the details of your divided perspective!

Iori: Nikaidou-san is really good at making alluring expressions by impulse.

For the fans, it stirs up their imagination of his sharp gaze towards them.

Iori: At first I suggested a mature-ish ballad song because it fits best to express his characteristic carefree singing voice.

Tamaki: I suddenly thought that the song is going to be the one where his body movements shine with dancing!

Tamaki: I don’t know what allure is like but Yama-san is really good at making expressions, y’know

So if the focus is matching it with the song and then dance, I’m thinking if the fans would be happy

Yamato: No way, hearing those makes me feel more embarrassed though?!

Tamaki: That’s hilarious

Since we couldn’t decide, me and Iorin wrote in a notebook on what kind of a person Yama-san is during lunch break 👍

Iori: We went back to the drawing board, and listed the things of our image of Nikaidou-san

Iori: 1. He’s very approachable

2. He rarely reveals his true feelings

3. A shy person

Tamaki: Even though he’s trying to look good by treating us to ramen, he spoils us very much.

Yamato: Aaaaaaahhhh this dried squid is really goooood where did it come from?

Did Tama buy this for meeeeeeeee?

Iori: Well, in short, Nikaidou-san might call himself “onii-san”, but in reality he’s like this, right?

Yamato: Don’t say it like that!

Tamaki: Yeah

Even though I really like Yama-san to be like this, you keep that side of you hidden from the public, right?

So me and Iorin decided that the lyrics should be about being okay with being your natural attitude? more.

Iori: And we decided that the melody and the lyrics are like untying a thread one by one.

Iori: So this is like our message to Nikaidou-san.

Yamato: Ahh, I see. So it’s like that.

Yamato: To be honest, since I’m the oldest in IDOLiSH7, I thought that I’d do the first one Ichi said.

Yamato: Somehow, I was surprised at first that the lyrics felt like it’s a message

Yamato: I seeee

It’s a message for me

Tsumugi: It’s a new form of producing…

I’ve read the lyrics again, and it almost made me shed a tear…

Yamato: I know right

Tamaki: Yama-san’s looking away

Iori: You’re hiding something.

Yamato: Hey Tsumugi-san, please move on to the next topic…

Tsumugi: Yes…! ><

Tsumugi: For the artist picture, Yamato-san’s smile under the blue sky and the clear weather is striking!

How did the photography go?

Tamaki: The theme is “A Special in Ordinary Day” as Yama-san thinks of us in a meaningful way!

Me and Iorin were looking for a good location to do it when we go home from school and during day-off

Iori: Yes. We narrowed down our search on our usual path and found a studio that lets us film on the rooftop.

Yamato: Yeah, and it’s near our office

Yamato: I was surprised that there’s such an open space within the city

Even though it’s surrounded by buildings, we could see the vast sky above us. It really felt so special.

Yamato: Tama is the one who definitely suggested using a water gun, right? (lol)

Tamaki: You’re correct!

You guessed it right, Yama-san

Iori: If you relay the meaning of the title, “Transparent”, the water is portrayed in it as well.

And then using a water gun, is something only Yotsuba-san can suggest.

Tamaki: You can praise me more

Yamato: Good job Tama, you can give an idea no one else can!

Tamaki:

Iori: It was pretty difficult to angle the camera that it shows the water

Tamaki: Yeah I think I’m good with water gun for a while

Iori: Moreover, I believe that there’s a small chance to use it.

Yamato: Anyway, the artist picture is a result of the two doing their very best!

Tsumugi: Thank you for the lovely episode!

The outfit having a wavy silhouette is wonderful!

Yamato: Its simpleness is something I really like~.

Either way it could pass as a casual outfit

Iori: Nikaidou-san’s charm is going to stand out even if an almost plain outfit blends in daily life.

Tamaki: And his dance is smooth and the way he moves his flexible fingers is pretty so we requested the outfit to show it by having the sleeve flutter when he dances ✌

Yamato: You’ve been really thinking about me…

Tamaki: Your face is as red as a jerky. Hilarious

Yamato: Don’t compare me to a jerky (lol)

Iori: Yotsuba-san’s food scraps is being cleaned by Musashi right now

This looks convenient.

Tamaki: Recently when I borrowed it to clean my room one time, it stopped moving because it sucked some books

I apologized to it

Yamato: Musashi, you did something ridiculous…

Tsumugi: Thank you for the warm talk! (laugh)

Lastly, please give a word to your fans!

Iori: Well, I’ll start first.

Iori: Nikaidou-san does a great work in dramas and movies while supporting his fellow members, but he’s also truly timid, easy to feel lonely, and has an uncool side.

Iori: Considering that, we wanted to tell that he’s our cool leader, so this is how we produced him.

This is a song where it's not Nikaidou-san-like, but actually it’s very like him. Please listen to it a lot.

Tamaki: Yama-san has a lot of faces, in a good way!

But we really love all of it!

Tamaki: I hope everyone will love Yama-san singing this kind of song even more!

Yamato: Umm… I might not be able to finish this smoothly

Yamato: I’ve received words from Ichi and Tama where they still love me even at my lowest.

I feels really like a miracle that I get to meet such people who’d say that

Yamato: A long time ago, I was scared of being hurt so I made a wall and had a habit of giving up instantly.

I’m sure everyone experienced that before

Yamato: But, it’s fine. I’m sure there’s someone who’ll show up like the messages in this song.

For now it’s okay to think that guy is me

Yamato: Thank you for always supporting me.

Hopefully we meet again, you with those relaxed shoulders and natural smile.

Tamaki: You showed off on the last one

Iori: You really did.

Yamato: That’s fine!!

Let me be a sly charming onii-san!!

Tsumugi: Thank you for your time, everyone…!

I’m sure this conversation will receive a lot of response, I look forward to the day it’ll be open to the public!

Tamaki: Yama-san really loves us

Should we take a picture?

There’s nothing in this room

Iori: Good idea. Let’s put a lot of good memories in this room.

Yamato: Ohh, put anything you want here

Iori: Well then, let us put a picture of Nikaidou-san wearing an Usamimi Parka first.

Manager, please prepare the picture.

Tsumugi: Leave it to me!!! 💪

Yamato: Why!!!!

-

[1] zabuton is a rectangular shaped cushion used for sitting or kneeling

[2] shredded and dried squid, or sakiika, is a snack

[missbunnybunny]

~◇✴𝔖𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔅𝔦𝔯𝔡 ✴ ◇~

Don't you like your new home, my little songbird?

°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇

this is my first Yandere story, I hope you like it. the reader is genderneutral. There is only one use of y/n, and for the rest of the story, you're referred to by you or Songbird.

°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇°◆°◇

Everything was just so dull. no matter the work he took, be it singing, acting, or other gigs, it was so bland. so when his assistant told him of his next photo shoot, he smiled and said, “Sure, I’ll be right there.” But it was just another fake smile, forced, fake, emotionless, empty.  

When he first became a model, it was like a dream come true! he had the face of a natural-born star. ever since he was a little kid, people would compliment him. “ Oh, Elle! you're so cute.” one of his mother’s friends would say, or “I wish my kids looked like you.” another spoke. 

His job was great at first, then great turned into good, good turned into nice, until it finally became boring. his smile started to fade until it just became a mask he wore. entering the photo shoot site, he expected the usual. and by usual, he meant a bratty, entitled model, thinking they were so high and mighty because they had money and a shoot with him. 

But he could care less. One thing he never lost when he became famous was his kindness. Money never got to his head. He was just glad to have a roof and food. so when he finally got out of the car and set foot in his changing room, he wasn't expecting much. 

The stylist curled his wolf cut a little, making sure his red peekaboo hair dyed could be visible in the photos. after his hair was done, his face was next. he didn’t need any make-up, just some light bush, and he was set. His light skin having its natural glow along with the brush was enough.

He was honestly glad that he didn’t have to take off his piercings. It would have been a pain. but that didn’t mean that he was safe from that either. they gave him 5 earrings to change into. They didn’t look bad. he might ask to keep them after the shoot. 

His first ear piercings were a pair of silver 4-star earrings, the second was a star stud earring, and his last piercing, which was on his Hilix, was a heart hop earring he didn’t have to change his tongue piercing for today's shoot. his hazel eyes looked at his reflection in the mirror, and he looked empty. 

He was wearing a black button-up shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. he could hear some of the staff members whispering that he looked like a prince. ‘ he looks so handsome’ or ‘he so my type.’ When he walked out of the fitting room to walk around a little, he had to wait for his partner to be done. 

He was standing next to the wall while looking at his phone, scrolling through insta. He snapped out of his daze when he heard soft humming. he hadn't realized he was next to the other fitting room’s door.  it sounded like soft rain on a rainy day. He loved it. It was so calming to his heart.

One of your assistants asked what song you were humming to, “Oh, it’s inhale exhale by AURORA.”  he was stunned. Your voice was like that of an angel. How could a person have such a lovely voice? It was music to his ears. 

It wasn't long before you stepped out of your fitting room and by the gods the way you looked at him. He thought you were the most ethereal being he had ever seen. You were like a work of art. His chest started to tighten, and his heart beat faster. ‘ What is this feeling?’ he thought while still looking at you. 

He extended his hand to you, “ Am Elliot Achillies, nice to meet you.” he had a small smile on his face. you looked up at the tall man. He was stunning, but that’s expected of a model. “ Hello, my name is y/n. it’s also nice to meet you, mister Elliot.” You spoke while shaking his hand. How nice and polite you are. his name has never sounded so beautiful until they left your lips, he wanted to heard you say it more.

You were so small, your hand compared to his was sending him over the edge. your touch was warm, it was like fire to his skin, “ just call me Elle, Songbird” his smile became bigger. He kissed the back of your hand, the way your eyes slowly widened at his action. oh, you're so cute!

Your outfit matched his perfectly. You could make a wonderful couple. he heard the director call him over to explain the photo shoot and the poses. He half listened while looking down at you. I wasn’t until he heard the director again “Alright, that’s all. I hope we can run this smoothly. Everyone into position!” He yelled, slightly making you jump. Every expression you made was making his heart beat even faster than the last. how could you be this adorable!

You and him got set to the first pose, your hand on his chest and his hand on your waist. he looked at the camera with a small smile while you looked at it with a more natural look. In every photo that was taken, he held your waist slightly tighter. Until you looked up at his mouth slightly open and wide eyes, a slight bush on your face. 

He was drinking up your expression so much that he didn’t realize he had a genuine smile on his face. he was in his own world looking at you. He pulled you closer until your faces were almost touching. you didn’t know what you were doing to him. “ If you look at me so cute, I might just eat you, my little Songbird.” He thought. he was a true wolf in sheep's clothing, but it couldn't hurt being a sheep a little longer.

Soon, the photo shoot was over. You were on the phone with your friend. talking about your upcoming Biology exam and English essay. This intrigues him. You were a college student? Oh, the more he learned about you, the more he wanted to know you. He was like a starving man. the more he got, he couldn’t fill his stomach because he was always hungry. He just couldn’t get enough.

He soon realized he was in love with you, all the magazine photos that you were both in together he had in his room. He would stalk you on social media, figuring out your college. after a month, he knew your schedule, your friends, your family, everything about you. 

He knew it was wrong, that he had an unhealthy obsession with you. he loves you, and you’ll never meet another like him. he has been to your room and even laid down in your bed while looking at pictures you had of your friends. he had some fantasies of having you pin under him, watching your face as his hands run up and down your body. it had him brushing like a schoolgirl with a crush. Can’t you see what you're doing to him? 

He stopped taking any modeling deals and said that he would only do it with you. he knew you were only a part-time model and that you used the job when you needed the money. why not kill two birds with one stone? You get some extra money, and he gets his songbird a win-win. 

Oh, how he wishes he could cut your wings and keep you in a cage. where only his eyes could see your angelic face, only his ears could hear the melody of your voice. But most of all, only his hands could touch your body. You belonged to him and only him. 

So little songbird, LOVE ME, LOVE ME, LOVE ME, LOVE ME MORE THAN YOU POSSIBLY CAN. He loves you to the point of going mad, so why are you throwing away his love letters? You're breaking his poor heart, won’t you kiss it better? better yet sing to him how much you love him, won’t you Songbird?

YOU DO LOVE HIM RIGHT, SONGBIRD? RIGHT.

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Please like,reblog, or boost this post, THANK YOU!

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[allthefujoshiunite]

Sorry I hit the ask button before finishing. My fav trope are age gap ( > 5 years and even more), height difference and teacher-student relationship. Do you have any BL that fits either or mix of the above? I don't mind smut (explicit) but not a fan of pwp (just smut story).

Again, sorry if I'm too demanding, hope you have a good day @allthefujoshiunite 🍀🌼

Aaand we’re back. You literally listed some of my fave tropes there so BOY do I have recommendations! Not a fan of PWP either, so rest assured.

Let’s get this party started ~

Age gap + height difference + teacher/student

Young Bad Education (Dayoo): I fell in love with Mizusawa’s eyes on the cover and bought the volume in Japanese years ago without an ounce of idea what the story was about. No regrets. Young Bad Education and its continuation Young Good Boyfriend will feed your soul. You can read it on Manga Planet (Futekiya).

Hitorijime My Hero (Memeco Arii): This title is a classic so you might have already seen it but just in case. Hitorijime My Hero has an anime adaptation as well (I’m anime-only) and the manga has a spin-off with the side couple as far as I know. The height difference is less pronounced here but if you’re like me and you love delinquents as well, this will be your jam.

The Trees in Spring (Nakaoka Naka): I’m kind of cheating but I’ll do anything to recommend this title! MCs here are a teacher and student, but the teacher isn’t teaching the student, they meet each other in a different way. I have reviewed this title before and take any chance I can get to recommend it, so there you go!

Age gap + teacher/student

Warbler, Sing of Spring (Nago Nayuta): I felt like they don’t have height difference (and checked the first chapter again) but the MCs are always drawn in weird angles so I’m not sure. Another title with the delinquent sprinkled on top. Really enjoyed reading this, Nago Nayuta’s works have a cuteness I like and the uke in Warbler is kind of unhinged xD Love him!

The Neighbor I Desire (Makoto): This one started off a bit weird for me but I can assure you it’s super cute! I have written a review before so if you want more details, here you go.

The Good Teacher (Eeej): Another title I reviewed before. It’s pretty, fun but short and while the plot is not this series’ strongest point, I think it’s worth giving a shot.

Age gap + height difference

Love for Sale (Dal Hyeon-ji): It’s official, you guys. I will literally disintegrate if I don’t recommend Love for Sale, the doctor said it not me. But honestly, do yourself a solid one and read it if you still haven’t. The pinnacle of ultimate goodness. I wrote on LfS before but since the post contaşns spoilers and is more about sugar dating than a review, I’ll spare you the link. On Lezhin.

Love Me Doctor (ANA): Another series I constantly recommended on Twitter and got a couple of unassuming, kind-hesrted people to read it with me as well. Focuses on a university student and a urology doctor he had tovisit for his ED. If you’re comfortable reading a title where a doctor kind of uses his position to get to know a patient and stepping over boundaries, please give it a chance! TOTALLY worth the time. On Lezhin.

On or Off (A1): Can’t say I understood the drama with the artist and the series being wrapped up rather quickly, but I read this popular webtoon with joy! Not as big of a fan as the rest of the BL fans but if youdig these two tropes I think it’s worth checking out. On Tappytoon, but I think TOKYOPOP has released it in print.

Metro (Chika Hongo): This is more of a dramatic title, where a high school student is being touched regularly by the same man on the train and he likes it, until one day he follows him home upon being invited. If you prefer a story that’s laced with trauma and flawed characters, this is for you! On Manga Planet.

Pound Cake on a Sunday (Amida Shizuku): Man this series is SUPER funny that I had to reread today! A father and son lives alone after the mother’s passing and one day, out of the blue, the father starts complimenting the new transfer to the company about how he’s so beautiful or saying how shiny his hair is. Is his father gay? Did he finally lose it? Read and find out! Very different from your usual BL, worth your time!

Bonus - I’m a Dom and I Want You To Stroke My Head (KINACO): Has dom/sub universe (a big fan) height difference as well, but it’s a teacher x teacher pairing.

Whew! Sorry it took a lot of time to write because it’s not so easy to format these posts on the app, it seems. I hope you like my selection and as always, let me know if you liked anything from the list! I’m always eager to know what people think after reading something I’ve recommended. See you around!

[mistresslrigtar]

Chapter Twenty-nine: Make a Wish! (written for @zelinktines24 day 29 prompt)

Well, we've reached the end of this journey. I hope you all have enjoyed it as much as I have sharing it with you. Most of my stories are inspired by music. Below is a link to the playlist for this story. I think you will especially appreciate the lyrics to the song She by Charles Aznavour and Herbert Kletzmer

Me, I’ll take her laughter and her tears

And make them all my souvenirs

For where she goes, I’ve got to be

The meaning of my life is she

Third Time's a Charm playlist

Read below or HERE

Zelda’s startled gasp when Mineru begins to fade from sight breaks Link’s heart. It’s clear she forged a deep bond with her ancestors, and if she deserves anything, she deserves to be loved and have someone besides him and Impa tell her how proud they are of her. He doesn’t have more time to reflect upon it, since it seems their friends must have had some meeting beforehand to recite a pledge of fealty to Zelda. Except, none of them seem to remember all of it and trail off one-by-one half-way through. It’s the thought that counts and if the way Zelda’s eyes are shimmering and she smiles the watery smile that always makes Link want to pull her into his arms and kiss the tears away is any indication, she’s been made verklempt by their effort.

A heavy crumbling sound behind Link draws his eye and he turns his head to see, with Mineru’s departure, the mechsuit has collapsed and lies in pieces. He’s surprised when his eyes burn at the sight, and he blinks several times. Even though Purah had successfully removed the secret stone, the machine had remained intact for the journey to the floating archipelago. It seems Mineru has truly passed on to the spirit realm. He catches Zelda’s eye and sees she’s come to the same conclusion–it’d been Mineru’s spirit, not the stone that held the machine together.

Nodding, Zelda steps to the altar, and Link does his best not to allow the vision of her standing in the exact same spot, wearing an ancient dress, holding her secret stone, while fear and determination play over her features as she debates what she’s about to do, consume him.

She catches his eyes and all he sees on her face is eager anticipation for what their future will bring. Today, she’s not alone, but flanked by Yunobo and Riju. Steadily holding her gaze, Link takes the Secret Stone from the construct Purah hands him and moves to stand between Tulin and Sidon. Once he’s in place Zelda places her stone in the center of the stone pedestal. They all follow suit until the six stones form a circle. 

“Today you made a vow to stand with me to bring forth an everlasting peace to the kingdom of Hyrule. I am honored to have you at my side, and together I know we can make a difference in the lives of our people.” Zelda takes a moment to look at each of them before resting her gaze upon Link. “This chapter is closing, and our final act will be to destroy the stones to ensure they can never be used for evil again, and to seal the Master Sword in this altar around which we stand.”

They’d spent many hours debating if this was the right choice, or if they should journey back to the Lost Woods to return the sword to its pedestal there. In the end, Zelda convinced Link the power emanating from the Temple of Time was just as sacred as that of the Great Deku Tree. It seemed fitting for the sword to be returned to a resting place that mirrors that of its origins described in the ancient texts that told of the first hero. 

Raising her hand, a soft golden light emanates from Zelda's fingertips and flows into the stones. As the stones begin to glow brighter, she sings the ancient melody Link had first heard her sing in the shrine. The light in the stones grows brighter and brighter and when it reaches the point that it's nearly blinding, Zelda nods to Link as she continues singing.

The Master Sword’s hum harmonizes with Zelda’s song when Link pulls it from his scabbard. Holding it aloft, the glowing blue blade pulses in time to the music. Even though he’s prepared for this moment and asked for it, Link hesitates. The sword has never spoken to him with words, but he has always had an innate sense of what it wanted him to do. He feels it’s power vibrating down his arm to his core, and he knows it’s ready to be laid to rest. A weight lifts from his shoulders as he grips the hilt with both hands and turns the blade to point toward the altar.

Locking eyes with Zelda he sees the same burden lifting from her as she pours her power into the stones and when she smiles he knows it’s time. Link plunges the blade between the glowing stones, fusing its power with Zelda’s. As the sword sinks into the pedestal, the stones shatter and absorb into the blade. 

They all shield their eyes from the blinding light that blooms around the sword as it seals itself in the stone. Zelda lowers her hands to her sides as her song comes to a close. The sword’s hum fades away along with the brilliant blue as it falls into a deep slumber. 

The sky has darkened to a deep indigo as the sun sank closer to the horizon during the ritual. Stars are appearing, dotting the heavens above with their twinkling light. Several streak through the atmosphere, blazing a trail. 

“Make a wish!” Purah’s chipper voice breaks the silence.

Link smiles. Zelda told him long ago falling stars aren’t stars at all, but pieces of debris from space, burning in the atmosphere. He knows Purah knows this, but she’s never been able to fully let her childlike wonder go.

He meets Zelda’s eyes, glowing brighter than any star, shooting or otherwise. The only wish he ever made over and over every time he chased a falling star has already come true.

Thank you everyone for liking and reblogging. I hope you all enjoyed!

Final shout out to @floraunderground. TYSM my friend!!

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Wincest Wednesdays

for @wincestwednesdays Sept 3rd prompt: Radio

on AO3

“You’re listening to KZSU Stanford at 90.1 FM. I’m Nicole and I’ll be your host for the next hour as we open the lines up for some dedications. This first one is going out to Brad from Angie…”

The coffee shop nearest to his dorm catered mainly to the college crowd and played the campus radio station at a volume that was loud enough to hear when the ambient clatter and hiss and chatter didn’t drown it out.

Sam had developed a habit of studying at a table in the corner, where he had the wall at his back and could see the entire place easily. His father’s voice was still too loud in his head to ignore, barking at him about situational awareness. 

But the noise, rather than being distracting, made it easier for him to focus. Like the act of filtering out the activity around him opened his mind up to remembering, cataloging, making connections in the information. Something about habits developed through childhood made them especially hard to shake, and even when he wasn’t trying to read or do school work in various cafes, diners, and restaurants, he would still need to tune out his brother. Dean who’d always had the tv or radio on, laughing or singing along, or sitting silent and brooding (which somehow was always louder to Sam than anything else).

“We’re dropping way back into the 70’s on this next song with Foghat’s I’ll Be Standing By for Samantha from an anonymous caller. Ooh, watch out Samantha, this one’s giving off creeper vibes.”

~~~

“It’s Tuesday again, so you know what that means! Got a special song for that special someone? Our phone line is open for the next hour, 855-723-9010.”

“Triple shot, soy, flat white!” the barista announced as he slid a cup onto the pick-up counter. 

Sam scooped it up and headed back to his regular table. Sitting down he pulled out his class notes and laptop. He popped the lid off his coffee, so it would cool faster, and got to work. Handwriting in class then transcribing later into a Word doc helped cement the information in his memory, and digital notes were so much easier to search when he was studying for tests. By the time he was finished, he slugged down the rest of his coffee, which had been room temperature for a while now, and started to pack up to go to his next class.

“For our final dedication today Samantha’s anonymous 70’s rock fan is back! This time he’s requested Zeppelin’s Out On the Tiles. So, Samantha, this one’s for you.”

The driving opening riff hit hard and familiar as Sam pushed through the door and strode out onto the sidewalk. A surge of nostalgia smacked a smile on his face as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets and tried his best to look like he fit in.

~~~

“Third Tuesday in a row, we’ve got ourselves a regular caller. Samantha, if you’re out there, here’s Telegram Sam by T-Rex.”

~~~

“Oh, Samantha, we’re back in maudlin territory this week. Your anonymous friend requested Dylan’s If You See Her, Say Hello. Maybe check on the people you know, 10:15 in the morning seems a little early to be that drunk.”

Sam was taking both Latin and Greek this semester since he already had a solid grasp of basic Latin and he was taking it because it was a requirement for more advanced classes. He hadn’t been as well versed in Greek so he spent more time going over his notes and working on his translations. 

“Two requests in one show? I think I touched a nerve when I said he sounded drunk. Sam, Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd.”

~~~

“Another Tuesday, another dedication to Studious Samantha from your 70’s classic rock fanboy. So here’s Paranoid by Black Sabbath. Sam, your creeper’s got a nice voice but he seems to be going through a manic phase, watch out.”

~~~

“Okay, Samantha, this is the sixth week in a row and I gotta admit, I’m intrigued by your man’s musical choices. This week he’s dedicating Shame on the Moon by Bob Seger to you.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. It was the Seger song that finally made the pattern click. It had to be. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number he knew by heart. It rang twice.

“Heya, Sammy.”

“Your mix tapes? First and last song on each?”

“Took you long enough. Hey, that Nicole sounds hot, think it’s just her voice or…”

“Jesus, Dean. Did you need something or have you really been calling up a college radio station DJ for a month and a half just to get my attention?”

“Just trying to have a little fun, shoulda known you be pissy about it.”

Sam rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose while Dean was quiet on the other end of the line.

Finally, Sam heard an irritated huff and then, “Whatever, man. Get back to studying, wouldn’t want to bother you.” 

The call disconnected.

Sam sighed and looked at the phone, like he couldn’t believe that was it. He dialed again and it went right to voicemail.

At the beep Sam simply said, “Jerk.” and hung up.

[kelppsstuff]

Benevolence

Chapter Two: Vivian

Warnings: none

Word count: 2035

Masterlist

“And then Adam pushed us out the door.” I told Lucifer over the phone. I had decided to stick around till the next extermination. I heard him growl protectively. “And how is Charlie?” I looked over the balcony out my window and saw her with Angel and Alastor the latter blowing up the snake in front of him.

“She has a good heart. Gets it from her father.” I heard him sigh over the phone. “Having one of those always gets you hurt.” He told me, but he knew I already knew that. ‘On the next topic, any ideas on why they moved the date up? They already made the last one more brutal than before.”

‘I couldn’t tell you, but hey the overlords are having a meeting next week and maybe you can take my place, find out yourself what the next course of action should be.” He was trying to pawn his work off to me, nothing I’m not used too. I always give him what he wants so long it was in my power. After all he is my king, but more importantly he’s my friend. “I’ll stop by and send the details over.”

“What would I do without you?” I think I should be asking you that. “Be one lonely bitch. Speaking of meeting, I have a few already today.” I heard him hum while asking details. “Fist one is with the rest of the commandments, most likely about extermination day. The other one I set up is with Adam?”

“Adam? Why?”

“To confirm a theory of mine.” I walked away from the window and out to the elevator, getting on. “So sure he’ll just tell you whatever you want?”

“My dear there’s more than one wsy to acquire information.” He clicked his lips, and I watch the number go down in the elevator. “How’s your hand looking?” I looked down and my burned hand. Even though Lute and Adam were projecting themselves they were still in Heaven. So when I reached for her – well her soul – I reached into heaven. Burning the fucking my hand, my arm healed up quiker though. “Good-bye Lucifer.” The doors opened and I ended the call.

I walked out and about, making my way to my meeting when I noticed alastor and Vox singing with each other or against depending on how you look at it. Though I guess someone recognized me and said my name so loud everyone turned to me. Fuck. Me. I started to up my pace in speed when people started to try and come up to me. Fuck fuck fuck. I turned abruptly into an ally and purple smoke started to surround me – teleporting me to the board room. Gotta love magic. I looked around the table and saw nine demons staring at me. Guess I was late. “About fucking time.” Colin the commandment of truth spoke. Bitchass is what I like to call him. “She was not too late, waiting is not a problem.” Oh hears Xander of patience – talk about being what you preach. I could have been three years late and he wouldn’t give a damn. Fitting for his role that’s for sure. I took my seat and listened as Silas; commandment of piety began talking.

“Colin of truth

Xander of patience

Eleanor of pasifim

Mabel of selflessness

Emma of repose

Nora of purity

Enzo of faith

Killian of reticence

Vivian of benevolence

And I Silas of piety.”

He did this everytime, he’d list us all from our title. Sure it was nice for the ego but holy fuck I know who these freaks are. “The extermination is going to happen sooner than ever, and something tells me that this is going to be the worse one yet.” Nooooo I couldn’t of guess that!

“As commandments we are to protect the hellborn.” I rested my head on my hand as the meeting went on and on.

“Would anyone like to add to this meeting?” I raised my hand and spoke for the first time since entering this room. “The princess and the radio demon created a hotel in hopes to rehab these sinners to bring the into heaven. I would like for you all to try and speared the word, but please no force. This has to be willingly.” Each commadedment obviously though it was a fools run, hell I did too, but Lucifer would want me to help his daughter. They all nodded and with that the meeting a adjourned, onto my next task of the day. Adam.

I did the sign in process just as before and Apparently I was early, since no one was here. I waited for his projection to appear but instead the door opened. Odd. He walked through the door and took a seat that he was in before. “What’s up dangertits.” Did he just– nevermind.

“How’s extermination planning?” He opened a bag of chips and started talking. “Fucking rocks. Want some? There salt n viniger my favorite.” I raised my brow, surley he didn’t think I was that stupid. “I’m not going to fall for your hologram trick.” This time he was the one who raised a brow. He stood and walked up to my sitting form and litterly shived a chip in my mouth. He didn’t hand it to me, he shoved it, with his fingers and everything. “Not a hologram babe. Unfortantely I’m here for real.” I started to chew the chip, I never tried salt n vinigur but I’ll admit it, there fucking amazing. “So you called for a meeting, what’s up?”

“Why move up the extermination date?” He looked around the room and walked to the door, opening it. “Let’s walk and talk?” A commandment and a holy angel? Walking together? Talk about roumors. “Thanks but I have a reputation. Besides where would we go?” He finished off his bag and made them disappear – along with his wings. He grabbed my hand and started to drag me. “First off, your reputation would imporve with me, second off I’m going to go see that greed clown bitch, and am taking you with me.” I stopped dead in my tracks and looked him up and down.

“You do know that one of the cities is literally called ransom? You stick out like a sore thumb with that outfit. I mean you have an A jeez just how cocky can one guy be?” He snapped and suddenly his robe was gone, reveling black combats boots, black cargo pants, and a black compress shirt. He kept his gloves on and waved his hands. We were suddenly in the clown show. He looked up at the clow preforming and it gave me a chance to admire his chest. The compress did him well. I’ll admit I thought he was larger because of the robes but that was quite the opposite. He had a wide chest, filled with muscle yet he was still somehow lean. He was tall, about 6’4 and I get the hype people on Earth give him. I looked away before he would notice my staring. “Why are we here!” I yelled to him over the noise.

“I’m suppose to see if any demon can be redeemed, so I need to take the day to check out hell, which fucking sucks. I thought this guy seems rock n roll, but honestly he fucking sucks.” I agree with that.

“If your looking for redemption, your looking in the wrong place. “Bold of you to assume I am.” I hummed and looked around, Mammon was just going on and on about his clown contest but he did remind me with his insults of woman.

“Oh looks it’s you as a clown” I told the angel as the clown said something on how girls couldn’t ever do what he could — be funny. “That’s not even funny, no way in hell would I ever be a clown.” Hah, your in hell. I’m so funny.

—

“So he’s one of the seven sins?” I looked down to my phone, ordering a car. “Yeah, Mammon sin of greed. He’s one of the most manipulative bastards I’ve meet.” Adam hummed in understanding and looked around the bloody streets in disgust. “So how does the order of power work around here?”

“Imps are the lowest rank — the hell born.

Next are the royals demons — blue bloods

Then it goes to overlords — sinners

The Seven sins

And finally the 10 commandments oh and then you know the king.”

Adam stopped looking at some sinners killing each other over some burger. “And which rank are you?” I raised saw my driver pull up and hold the door open for him. He gave me a shit eating grin and got in. “A commandment, benevolence.” He looked around the limo and noticed how fancy it actually was. “Where are you taking me?” I looked out the window and didn’t respond. He’d find out soon enough. Though he quickly forgot his question as he started to complain about how Sera was making him see if it was possible ‘like there in hell for a reason’. I didn’t comment on how I was one of those sinners he hated so much. I didn’t really care. But one thing did catch my attention. The radio. It sounded just like Adam. I turned up the radio and sushed him.

“When the world has screws you and crushed you in it’s fist. When the way you’re treated has got you good and pissed.” I looked to Adam and noticed his cocky smile. Since when was his music broadcasted? “There’s been one solution since the world began. Don’t just sit and take it, stick it to the man.” Bloody hell, and it was catchy. “I thought you were the guitarist?” He was humming the song but stopped to answer me. “We switch up the singer every now and then, but usually it’s just one guy, Darcy.”

“Parents overwork ya? Stick it to the man!

Hate the way they jerk ya? Stick it to the man!

Tired of the system? Stick it to the man!

Rise up and resist them. Stick it to the man!”

I just nodded my head and listened to the song. But one question remained in my head, since when did they broadcast heaven music in hell? I didn’t ponder it too much longer though. When the song ended another song started on the radio. It wasn’t his however. It was from Verosika Mayday.

When we got out the car we were in my territory. We started to walk around town, heading to my mansion however I wanted to show him something before that. “Do you know what my commandment does?” He looked at me and silently shook his head. “When I activate my commandment anyone with hatred in there heart fall before he and lose their will to even stand.” I stopped and looked around. “After awhile I got used to only using on selective people. Such as now. I’m using it on my everyone around us besides you.” Then I turned my head to him, activating my commandment on him. Just as I suspected he started to fall to the ground. But hey he resisted impressively. “Now you, a angel has hate, but sinners don’t. Surely these people can be redeemed.” I deactivate my power on him and he stood up and cracked his neck.

“Never do that to me again.”

“Not use to being on you knees?”

“Oh darling, if you want me on my knees just ask.”

—

The doors of my estate opened and I finally let a sigh leave my body, I hate society. I turned to look at Adam and I made sure to pay close attention to him for my question. “Do everyone in heaven know about the extermination?” Slight movement in his jaw, that’s his tick. “Obviously.” Lies. This would be useful. “And after my demonstration today, what will you be telling Sera about redemption?”

He cracked his neck and let his wings out. “That not a single one should be alive.” Of course. Suddenly a portal opened. “That’s my que. Later babe.” He walked through and I didn’t bother giving him a goodbye.

[coughdontfeelwellcough]

So I haven’t been able to get this prompt by @perfectpaperbluebirds out of my head since they posted it and so this ridiculous thing was born. I hope you like it! 

Fandom: Any, I didn’t use any names so imagine whoever! 

Words: 3006... I got a little carried away. 

I was running late, the last band was just finishing up as I took my seat. I’d been looking forward to seeing my favourite band for months and was so happy to see they’d been added to the line up of a nearby show. It wasn’t long before the lights went off and the crowd screamed. I got to my feet ready to dance but as the band entered the stage I noticed something wrong, the lead singer wasn’t as excited or energetic as he usually was. He waved at the crowd and as he started to sing I realised what the problem was, his voice sounded a little hoarse and he had to turn away to cough more than once through the song, he was sick. When the song was over the lead guitarist greeted the crowd instead of the singer.

“You’ll have to forgive our frontman, he’s feeling a bit under the weather today.”

There was an awh from the crowd and I felt bad for him, even from my seat I could see he looked pale and tired. 

“I’ll still play better than you,” the front man tried to tease but it only made him cough again. 

“Just don’t die, I’m way too lazy to find a new lead singer,” the guitarist joked and the crowd laughed but I couldn’t take my eyes off the front man. He was sweaty and pale, and though he was playing his guitar just fine I could see he was struggling. 

They continued the set but with every song the back up singers were doing more and more work as the front man failed to keep up. He couldn’t seem to go long without coughing and at one point he had to get a tissue out of his pocket to blow his nose. After the fourth song he disappeared off stage for a few minutes and came back looking worse for wear. 

“Sorry guys, I think that’s going to be it for me tonight,” his voice was congested and almost gone. I felt really sorry for him, he sounded so sad not to be able to continue when he was so obviously ill. 

“Don’t worry,” the guitarist piped up. “We can play just fine without him, isn’t that right?” 

The crowd cheered and so the next song started as the singer departed the stage with a little wave and a cough.

I decided to take the moment to go to the bathroom, I’d been in such a rush to get to my seat I hadn’t had a chance to go beforehand. It was quiet in the corridor and I just went through the first door I found until I got to the toilet. I could still hear the music playing in the background but I couldn’t help wondering how the poor front man was doing, he did look miserable. I must have been thinking about him more than I realised as I left the bathroom as I walked straight into someone going the opposite way down the corridor. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” 

I imidendly recognised that voice, even as hoarse it was, it was the front man! 

“No, I’m sorry I’m the one that wasn’t looking where I was going,” I said. 

He looked like he was going to say something else but was cut off by two harsh sneezes into his elbow. 

“Bless you, that’s some cold you’ve got there,” I said. 

He nodded, running a hand under his nose. “I don’t remember the last time I felt this ill.” 

“Poor you, it sucks you couldn’t finish the show but your guitarist is right, can’t have you dying.” He chuckled, coughing a little. 

“I just hate letting people down, they’ve come out to see us and I don’t want to be the one to mess that up.” 

“No, no, it’s not your fault. Everyone gets sick sometimes, even the front man in an awesome band.” 

“Than…” He was cut off by a harsh cough that quickly turned into a fit. By the time he could breathe again he was shaking and I could hear the slight wheeze to his breathing.

“No offence, but you sound like you should be in bed and as far away from people as possible,” I said. 

“That’s the plan, I was just going to order an uber back to the hotel and sleep,” he said, rubbing his chest. I could see that just being stood up was exhausting for him. I don't know how he managed to even get on stage. He was still wearing the clothes he’d been wearing on stage though he’d pulled a beanie over his messy hair, a few bits sticking out the front, clinging to his forehead. 

“Me too, are you in Carlton?” I asked. 

He looked at me like I was crazy. “Sorry, sorry, I must sound like some insane stalker. I promise you I’m not. It’s just the only hotel around here so it kind of slipped out.”  

He tried to laugh but his voice cracked and he coughed instead. 

“That cough sounds nasty and I know this sounds creepy so I promise I’m not trying to kidnap you, but would you like a lift to the hotel? I promise my car is nicer than some random uber and I’ll have you there in half the time.” 

I don’t know what made me offer, he was a famous musician and I was just a fan who’d walked through the wrong door but I cared about him and the poor guy was so ill I wanted to do something. 

He looked unsure and I would have totally understood if he’d said no, he didn’t even know me but then he sneezed again which quickly became a fit and each one sounded like it was scraping at his throat. 

“Ow,” he moaned, leaning back heavily against the wall. 

“Bless you, they sounded like they hurt.” 

He groaned, running a hand over his face. He looked worse than he had on stage and judging by the fact he was shivering he was probably feeling it too. 

“I think I’ll take that ride,” he said, his voice thick with congestion. 

“Are you sure?” I asked. 

He nodded, coughing lightly into his fist. “Thank you,” 

The poor thing sounded so pathetic I just wanted to give him a hug.

He led me out of a back entrance to avoid any people milling around and I took us to my car. I was suddenly embarrassed about the state of my car, there was mud splattered up the side and the footwell had all sorts of rubbish that I hadn’t had time to clean. 

“Sorry, it’s probably not up to your usual standards,” I said. 

He laughed. “I spend three hundred days of the year in a bus with six dudes, I don’t think a few cans can scare me.” 

As we got in I noticed he was still shivering so I whacked up the heat. 

The rest of the band aren’t going to be looking for you, are they? I don’t want them to think I’ve kidnapped you or something.” 

“No..” He coughed into his fist. “No, they told me to go to bed and stay as far away from them as possible.” 

I couldn’t help laughing a little. “Nice friends you’ve got,”

He smiled weakly and I felt my heart flutter a little. I'd had a crush on this man for years and now he was sitting in my car. 

“Can’t risk anyone else getting sick or we’ll have to cancel shows and we never want to do that.” 

“Makes sense but leaves you to suffer all alone,” I replied. 

It wasn’t a long drive to the hotel and I was already sad at the thought of leaving him, especially all alone. 

“It’s okay,” he sniffed, “I’m used to it.” 

My heart sank, he shouldn’t have to suffer all by himself even if it was to keep everyone else safe. He deserved comfort and love too. 

He instructed me to the back entrance of the hotel and I parked my car as close to the door as I could get. I watched him get out, stumbling a bit as he stood and resisted the temptation to help him. I didn’t want to over step. 

“You okay?” I asked. 

He nodded, coughing again. I hoped he wasn’t going to end up with some kind of chest infection, he sounded awful. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

I led him through the back door and straight up the stairs, avoiding the front desk and no doubt the fans that had gathered there hoping for a glimpse of the band. 

“What floor?” I asked. 

“Thirteen,” he replied. 

“Funny, me too.” 

“Are you sure you’re not stalking me?” he asked. For a moment I was actually scared he thought I was stalking him but his slight smile told me otherwise.

“Hand on my heart, I swear I didn’t know I was sleeping on the same floor as a famous rock star.” 

He laughed and started coughing again, leaning against the wall as he fought to catch his breath. “You’ve got to stop making me laugh.” 

“Sorry, I’m just naturally hilarious.” 

“We’ll see about that,” he said. 

My poor heart was hammering in my chest again, was he trying to say he wanted to see me again? 

I reached the top of the stairs, he was a few steps behind me and I could hear the wheezing in his breathing as he climbed. I knew he’d performed while ill before, it was eventable for all performers but whatever bug he’d picked up seemed to have really taken it out of him. 

“Which way?” I asked, pointing to the list of room numbers on the wall. 

“15,” he replied. 

“No way, that’s just freaky. I’m in room 14.” 

He looked at me then like I was some witch and for a moment I really thought he’d accuse me of being some creepy fan who's obviously planned the whole thing. 

“That is freaky,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re not going to murder me in my sleep are you?” 

“No, god no. Then where would I get some great music?” 

He smiled as we reached our doors. I didn’t want to go in and say goodbye, it was like I’d stepped into one of my teenage dreams and I wasn’t ready to wake up. 

“Thank you, you’ve been really kind to me and I really appreciate it. If I’m still alive in the morning then I’ll speak to the guys about getting you a lifetime pass to our shows or something.” 

“You don’t have to do that, I was doing what any decent person would,” I said. 

“It’d be my pleasure, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

He gave me one last smile, a real one like it’d seen so many times on magazine covers and on stage but this one was all for me. 

I replayed the night in my head over and over again until I must have fallen asleep, I couldn’t believe the whole thing hadn’t been a dream. The next thing I knew I was being woken up by screaming, I  jumped up thinking the worst only to realise the tv was still on and had turned into some horror film. I flicked it off and got out of bed, feeling a little shaken. I decided to make a hot chocolate before trying to go back to sleep. That’s when I heard him, the sound of coughing coming from the other side of the wall, followed by a sneeze and a groan. He sounded miserable and I hated the thought of him being all alone when he was so ill, just because he said he was used to it didn’t mean he wanted it.  I stared at the hot chocolate I was making and wondered if he’d like some or itf that was totally over stepping. I didn’t know him and he certainly didn’t know me, was I really going to knock on his door at four in the morning and over him hot chocolate? 

It took me a few minutes to convince myself it was a half decent idea but I figured the worst that could happen is he said no. 

I put the drinks on a tray and go knock on his door. For a few moments I think maybe he’s fallen asleep but then I hear more coughing and snuffling as he comes to the door. 

He looked worse, even in the low light his complexion looks ghostly pale and even wearing an oversized sweatshirt with the band's logo on it he was shaking. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” His voice was so thick with congestion it was barely audible. 

“No.. Well yes but I was making myself a hot chocolate and I thought you might need one?” as I said it I was aware just how ridiculous I sounded. If I were him I’d want to be left alone, what was I thinking? 

He sighed, running his hand through his messed up hair. He was probably trying to think of a nice way to ask me to leave, I was already kicking myself for bothering him.

“That would be nice actually, come in.” 

I was so surprised I nearly dropped the try as he moved aside to let me in. 

“Sorry about the mess,” he said. 

It looked like he’d just thrown down all his things and gone straight to bed, the clothes he’d worn at the show were piled in the corner along with his trusty beanie. 

“So this is what a rockstars hotel room looks like,” I said, putting the tray on the dressing table. 

“I’m actually quite tidy norm…” he snapped forward with a sneeze. 

“Bless…” 

He sneezed again and again, each one harsher than the last and leaving him dizzy. 

“Sit down before you fall down.” 

He stumbled over to the bed and grabbed a handful of tissues to blow his nose. 

“Sorry, I’m so gross right now,” he apologised. 

“Stop apologising for being ill, you can’t help it,” I said, passing him the hot chocolate. 

“I am sorry about waking you up though, I tried not to,” he said. 

I took my drink and sat down in the chair next to the bed, my arm resting dangerously close to his. 

“It wasn’t just you actually, I’d fallen asleep with the tv on and it started playing some horror flick. I got woken up by the token blonde girl screaming,” 

“Oh..” He started coughing again, barking coughs that really sounded like they were grating against his chest. I finally broke and reached to pat his back, I could feel how hot his fever was even through his thick sweatshirt. 

“Oh honey, you sound terrible.” 

He groaned, leaning back against the pillows. “I feel awful, I can’t breathe through my nose and I’m freezing..” 

“Do you mind?” I asked, holding my hand out. He shook his head and I put my wrist against his forehead. 

“I knew you had a fever but you’re burning up, do you have medicine?” 

He nodded, coughing lightly. “On the table, I fell asleep before I could take any.”

I grabbed the bottles off the table along with a cup of water. 

“Here you go, though I have to tell you what I pictured rock stars doing drugs in their hotel rooms I never pictured it being Theraflu.” 

He laughed which quickly turned to coughing again, it sounded like he was trying to drag up all the gunk in lungs and failing. 

“Here drink,” I said, pushing the cup of water into his hands. He was shaking but managed to take a sip and calm down enough to breathe, though he was still trembling.

“Ugh… I hate this,” 

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well,” I said, I wanted to run my hand through his hair and take care of him probably. 

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t get me sick… did you?” he said, a little tease in his voice. 

“No, I mean being sick sucks, especially when you’re so far from home and have no one to keep you company,” I said. 

“You’re keeping me company,” he replied, sniffling thickly. 

“Only because you woke me up,” I teased but I could see something in his eyes, a little honesty behind the fever. 

“I’m thankful though, you’re right about being alone when you’re sick, it sucks.” 

I reached out and took his hand, feeling relieved when he didn’t pull away. I don’t know what made me feel so brave, maybe it was the fact it was the middle of the night or all the sugar I’d drunk. 

“Can I ask you something?” I asked. 

He nodded, sniffing into a tissue. 

“Why are you letting me help you? I don’t imagine you normally let fans into your hotel room.” 

He tried to clear his throat but it caught in his chest and he coughed.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s the fever or maybe it’s because you’re nice and treat me like a normal person. That can be rare in the line of work…” 

He trailed off and I felt bad for him. We’d all read about their relationships in magazines, how when things go wrong it’s everybody's business. 

“Well I hope you’re at least feeling a bit better,” I said. 

“I am, thank you,” he smiled, one of his genuine happy smiles and my heart melted. 

He took my hand and pulled me toward the bed. I ended up lying beside him with his head against my chest and my arm around him.

“Sorry if I get you sick though,” he said, sniffling.

“It’s okay, I know a good rockstar who can take care of me if that happens.” 

He chuckled, coughing against my shoulder. 

“I guess we’ll have to see,” 

I kept waiting for the moment I’d wake up and it would all turn out to be a dream but as he squeezed my hand I knew it was all real. 

[minnieminss]

JEWELS WITHIN; a wolf story pt.4

Pairing - Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x 6 year old!oc x fem!reader

Warnings - werewolf au, cold!soonyoung, cursing, hoshi using nicknames for his little sister (baby, honey, etc), painfully shy!reader, but also lowkey childish and adorable, angst, age gap, (4years). Bipolar!josh (he can get so soft and then be an ass but we all know he cares), not the best of writing but I try.. :)

Summary - After being rejected by his mother at birth and parents murdered by hunters, soonyoung is faced with the responsibility of raising his little sister alone… until he finds you.

Word count - ?

Hana’s pov

It’s been 2 hours since my brother left. I miss him so much! Who am I going to annoy now? Or…or play games with?

Today I’ve realized how boring it is without hoshi.

Speaking of games… the nice girl Aria offered to play games with me, but I didn’t like the idea of playing with someone else without my brother here. It made me feel bad.

So, I sat on the long rectangle like chair (that’s called a couch… I think.) and watched what they call a ‘show’ on a box called a tv!

The show wasn’t all that good to be honest, a bunch of puppets singing and I was already a bit bored by it.

Who am I kidding? This show is great!

I probably watched about 2 episodes of it until I heard people starting to talk due to someone coming in through the door.

“Josh! Your sisters here!” Said somebody.

The scary guy has a sister? I wonder if she’s my age!

No… maybe?

Joshua came downstairs the greet his sister the same time I turn my head to see who this mystery sister is.

She’s not my age. Should’ve known Hana!

“Y/n? What are you doing here?! How did you even get here?” The boy asked. “I… missed my brother?” The girl said quietly, chuckling nervously.

“Y/n…” he said. Sternly looking at the younger girl.

“Can we just talk about it later? Please.” The girl said looking away from the older boy. “Fine. I want you to meet someone, We have a guest.” Joshua said pointing to Hana.

“Hi! I’m Hana!” The girl said loudly making the girl flinch. “Hello..” the girl said with a small voice.

“I have a brother too! His name is Hoshi!” She said smiling. “How nice… how old are you Hana?” The girl asks. “I’m six years old! Yesterday was my birthday!” Hana says giggling.

“You’re very cute Hana, I can see us being friends..” the girl says looking at Joshua who smiles encouragingly.

“Me too! Wanna watch this show with me?” Hana says turning back to face the Tv with a bounce.

“Sure, sounds amazing”

—

Soonyoung

“Shifts are normally around 8 hours a day, 12 if you do an extra shift.” Aria says.

“I know you wanted to keep as little amount of time away from your sister as possible but this is the best it’s gonna be Soonyoung.” She continued.

“I’m definitely going to hate this but, I really need the money.” I sigh. “When’s the fastest I can start?”

“Well, I can see if I can get you an interview perhaps by Friday, which is in two days so it would be a tight fit but not impossible.” She breaths out. “How about you wait here and I’ll go find my boss so you can chat with him?” She begins walking away before I could answer.

I wonder what Hana’s doing right now… I sure do miss her

Despite the amount of hours I need to spend away from her, I don’t feel anything bad is to go with this chance,

Because I’ll be able to make enough money to get us a new home just for the two of us, raise her the correct way, the only same thing is I’ll keep her homeschooled, nobody will change my mind on that.

She deserves so many great things and life and I just know that I’ll be able to give it to her.

Although I do wish she could have some type of woman figure in her life but even if she doesn’t so what? So many people raise their kids alone, besides I’ve been doing it for 6 years, what’s decades more?

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

Hi everyone! I apologize for the delay in this series and also for a short chapter, writing isn’t my strong suit and I do so many other things out of this. Plus I really wanted to get something out as it’s been soooo long 😅. I plan to have a but of a dramatic time skip in one of the chapters but I won’t say when or which🤭…

Here’s some other things to look out for (hopefully)

New writing layouts

New master list

New one-shot (let’s hope hard on this one)

So thank you all for being patient!

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Eighteen — Tidings

My heart dropped. “Was there another attack?” I whispered.  Brent’s head shook slightly. “No. This is Curdun Cay — someone broke out.”

6.7k Words | 30ish min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: body horror, you know the drill. Death.

Brent and I took to unpacking casually as we waited for the hours to pass in those two days, meaning Dad’s old bedroom in the basement was now available to move into — which I did as soon as there was enough room on the ground for my bed. Or, had Brent do. I didn’t like the idea of not being on the same level as Brent, as dumb as it sounded; we were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by water and woods. We were safe.

Still, it felt too detached. 

Our disappearance from the top level was enough to freak Betty out when she snuck into the house early morning on Christmas Eve, hands tightly gripping a box of doughnuts as she yelled our names down the basement stairwell, panicked. 

“Oh, there you two are!” She sighed in relief when our bedroom doors opened and we poked our heads into the hall. “Nearly gave me a heart attack. It’s time to wake up!” 

Brent’s bleary eyes met mine as he asked, a bit of annoyance in his voice, “Why?” 

Betty took it in stride, throwing her head back to laugh. “You didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas Eve alone, did you?” 

We were coaxed out of the rooms on promises of glazes and chocolate frosting, Betty barely giving us time to wipe the gunk from the corner of our eyes before launching into the itinerary she had pre-planned for us. “I wanted to spend some time with you today, since I’ll give you two and your father space tomorrow. And besides, today is the Christmas Potlatch— it’s about time you learn more about your heritage. You’re going to love it,” 

Way she was talking, it seemed like we didn’t have a choice but to. 

But she continued on about how there was going to be singing and dancing and music, peeks into a heritage we’ve only just learned about. “There’ll be other kids there too, I promise. The younger ones are actually putting on a show, it’s so cute.” Betty assured us, turning in time to miss Brent’s eye roll — but hearing me smack his arm. Betty spun in place, coffee cup in hand, watching Brent try to take a swipe back at me only for his hand to pass through water. 

“You can’t keep doing that, it’s not fair,” Brent chastised, trying his hand at another swing when I solidified. I just stepped out of range this time. 

“Oh, get over it,” 

Betty ushered us into her little Beetle as soon as we were dressed, taking us to a Longhouse that was alive more than ever with energy as dozens of people flirted through its main breezeway, decorating the Longhouse in a mix of Christmas lights and Akomish style artwork. A pile of props laid on a wheeled stage being pushed to fit in the alcove between Betty’s staircase and the wall, and the smell coming from the kitchen swing doors was divine. “Usually I help out with these things but,” she shrugged, turning the key and unlocking her door, “I want to stay with you both till your father gets back,” 

“To be nice, or to babysit?” Brent joked. 

Betty’s living room had switched from a comfortable little room to a holiday haven in the two days we were gone; a Christmas tree was shoved in a corner now, lights strung both along it and on the ceiling line of its neighboring walls. The throw pillows on the couch had switched to white and Christmas red flannel, the fire had stockings and garland and a decent collection of nutcrackers. How she did this all on her own in two days was beyond me, considering she was bordering five feet even and old. 

“Take off your coats, it’s going to get very warm in here once I start the fire,” Betty insisted, unceremoniously chucking her purse and keys on the small kitchen table.

Apparently, Betty wasn’t done with the spoiling; the Christmas tree had gifts under it somehow, the stockings full. Betty warned us — not that we asked — that there wasn’t as much for us under the tree as it looked. “It’s my first Christmas in a while with your father,” she said, “I have to make up for that, as well.” 

And yet I definitely saw at least three separate presents with my name on them as I slipped a tiny, badly folded brown parcel under the tree. She may have been taking the doting grandma thing a bit overboard. 

Dad called sometime near one as we finished up with that vintage movie Home Alone, declaring he was officially on the way back — and bringing a friend. “Eugene said he’d be okay with stopping by, so you’ll get to meet him. Or, re-meet him, I guess.” Dad said, an unidentified chuckle following his statement. “He’ll only be here for an hour before heading back to Seattle,”

The Dr. Eugene Sims. Holy shit! 

Betty came from her bedroom dressed in what I wouldn’t say was traditional clothing, but definitely had Akomish influence, patterns and prints that reflected the art downstairs. It was enough to distract me as Brent and I had a thumb war for the last gingerbread man, Brent managing to pin my thumb down with a pinching strength that immediately made me whimper “Ah, let go, let go, let go!” I yanked my hand away, the pressure from his grip hurting it further. 

Brent at least had the respect to look sorry, saying just as much. “I’m not used to the whole strength thing yet—”

“Well get used to it before you break someone’s hand, Christ.” I shook it out, trying to fling the pain off. 

Betty only let this distract her for a moment before declaring, “Alright, Brent, Regina — are you ready to go downstairs? I should make sure no one needs me before the kids’ play starts.” 

Brent gave some sound of acknowledgement, standing — and taking the cookie for himself. Bastard won it, I guess. “You know,” I pressed against my knuckles hard in an effort to ease the tension from Brent’s death grip, “I can’t pop my knuckles anymore, ever since the powers kicked in. Is that weird?” I hadn't been able to coax a single joint to pop the last few days. Honestly, some parts of me were so flexible now they'd bend without stressing the joints at all.

Betty led us downstairs, which was now more alive than when we arrived. There was a buzz to the air that made me feel high; elation, camaraderie. I was sure not every person here was related, but god, it didn’t look like it mattered; everyone knew everyone, everyone cared about everyone. Immediate hugs upon recognizing someone, handing over a drink as if they knew the newcomer would be thirsty. People seemed to pinpoint us, knowing we were Dad’s kids — but there wasn’t any staring and whispering. They actually welcomed us, giving smiles in greeting or asking us non-invasive questions about ourselves. 

Well, mostly. The conversation would veer to Dad at some point — not in a nosey, fanatical way but in a comfortable and familiar sense. They knew Dad was the hero he is, and they also knew the kid he was. Delsin Rowe just happened to have both titles to himself, in their eyes. 

The long-haired guy from the school cafeteria eventually found us — Chaz, apparently — and veered us to a group of kids our actual age, and not the little ones in traditional costumes begging Brent to whip his wings out. I never really did well in new settings, couldn’t take it in stride like Brent could, but Chaz was there to be that connection between me and the rest of the group, making the transition easier until there was no awkwardness at all. We joked and we laughed, so much so that as the Potlatch began and we were ushered to sit in front of the stage to watch the kid’s performance, Brent teased me about it. “God, you could make it less obvious, Jean.” 

“What?” 

Brent tossed his head back where Chaz and the others still stood, lollygagging since they didn’t have Betty staring at them expectantly. “You and that guy. What’s going on there?” 

I laughed, shaking my head. “Nothing is going on, dude. He’s just being nice—“ 

“Yeah, okay, tell him that, ‘cause it sure seems like he thinks there’s something,” 

I glanced back as I moved to sit in the chair, catching Chaz’s gaze only for his eyes to immediately flit away. Was there something? 

I didn’t get much time to mull over the thought, and didn’t really want to right then; it was Christmas, and everything was still unstable in my life. Chaz was something that could wait for later. For now, it was time to watch the show the elementary and middle school put on, a retelling of the myth of Thunderbird and the Akomish. 

Dad wasn’t kidding about the myth; the kids went on to tell a tale of this storm-bringing bird that wished to guard the Akomish from the approaching warbringers, the kids playing this part abandoning the traditional woven and beaded clothing for stark white and mechanical looking outfits, almost like robots. Modernity versus tradition. Entire ways of life were disrupted with this introduction to technology and futurism from the Warbringers, not to mention the famine and death and torture and whatever else. The Akomish called to the Great Spirit for aid in fighting this enemy, and in return, the Great Spirit (played by a kid in a decorated bedsheet standing on the stairs to Betty’s loft) sent the Thunderbird.

The gigantic puppet they made needed five separate kids to man; one for each head, one for each wing, and one for the movement and props. The Thunderbird fought back against the Warbringers with his lightning, smiting those that threatened the innocent and attempted to return the Akomish to their natural, comfortable, familiar way of life. There were cardboard cutouts of lightning strikes painted yellow that the kids would chuck into the crowd to the laughter of the parents sitting in the first few rows, rain sticks wrapped in some aluminum in an attempt to make it sound like rolling thunder. It was precious, creative, and I glanced over at Brent to say as much— 

And scowled when I saw he was on his phone. 

“Dude, seriously?” I whispered, glaring at him when he looked up. “You’re being a dick,” 

“Look,” he ignored my jab entirely, moving the phone closer so I could see his screen. 

His phone was silenced as it watched another news feed, except this wasn’t one about Dad; there was a huge hole in the brick of a building, the barbed wire of a retaining wall tangling in itself as it fell from its position, the rest of the wall missing. Smoke was pouring out of the hole, the harsh orange of a fire flickering brightly from within, not put off in the slightest by the downpour. 

My heart dropped. “Was there another attack?” I whispered. 

Brent’s head shook slightly. “No. This is Curdun Cay — someone broke out.”

Curdun Cay Station was defunct for a total of seven months before the Government reclaimed and rebranded it, naming it the Conduit Detention and Rehabilitation Facility. Everyone still called it Curdun Cay, though. Once all the Conduits were released back into the wild, it didn’t take long for those with bad tendencies to return to crime — or the ones left to sit in the mud without any reparations for their illegal incarceration. What were they supposed to do, starve? Freeze? 

The cops quickly realized they couldn’t keep Conduits behind bars, not regular ones, anyways. And with the UN on America’s ass for the experimentation and torture Augustine pulled, reopening Curdun Cay was their ‘compromise’; have a safe place for convicted Conduits, and refurbish the labs and battle arenas into a glorified psych ward to help reform and treat Conduits still suffering from how they were tortured. It was the only bit of resources the Government was willing to give out at first; and considering you had to be inpatient to receive care, and couldn’t be released till a doctor signed off…well, it was just another way to keep a tight leash on Conduits. A prison’s a prison, no matter how you market it. 

Well, prison no more, at least not for whoever broke out. 

“When did it happen?” I muttered, trying to keep my eyes on the show so I seemed at least semi-into it. Especially when Betty glanced back from her seat in front row. 

“I don’t—“ Brent exited the news stream to the update tweet he found it on, scrolling up furiously. “Says last night, like, three in the morning.” He chuffed under his breath, “Congrats and Merry Christmas to whoever got outta there,”

I understood why we needed Curdun Cay, in some ways. Bad people deserve jail, and I mean, what’s to stop them when they can escape again and again? But with how easy it was to end up in prison, how judges seemed to tack on harsher sentences and how Conduits seemed to get Baker Acted more than any other person…well, I just hope it was someone who deserved their freedom. “Yeah,” I hummed, elbowing him after a moment. “Put it away,”

“Ow, no need to be an ass,” he muttered, shoving his phone back in his jean pocket. 

The kids blew forward with their little play while we chatted, diving straight into the drama of the Thunderbird’s tale; the Warbringers could be postponed, but stayed close on the horizon, always looming over the Akomish as a threat. The Warbringers would respond to the Akomish’s assaults with their own, rocks traded for lasers in the form of a bunch of little NERF darts shooting their way across the stage to the kids’ glee, taking two minutes for the cast to wind down enough to continue their story. Even when told by a bunch of kids coached by someone standing on the side of the stage and narrating in a flat tone, it still was an interesting one. Especially when the Warbringers released their own avenger, the Bull.

The Bull was another puppet with silvered skin and RGB lights set to red in its cracks, steam managing to come out of its pierced nose. There seemed to be a bunch more kids under it by the not-so-quiet whispering as the Bull confronted the Thunderbird for the first time, managing to strike him from the sky with spits of flame upon their first meet. 

Thunderbird now not only needed to protect his people, but defeat the Bull and find some sort of long-term solution with the Warbringers. Not to mention the hurt to his ego, failing in front of his people. He needed to be stronger and better prepared if he was to take on the Bull, so he embarked on a journey to Black Tusk Mountain, where the answers would lie once summer solstice brought the warm winds back. 

Thunderbird didn’t find winds, but change in the form of a teacher, the Spirit of the same vengeful fire the Bull was birthed from. The Spirit of Black Tusk mountain was a warning; change was inevitable. This Spirit fought against the change and risked their people in the process, completely wiping them out. Thunderbird was going to have to not find a path to victory, but a form of harmony, lest he risk the lives of the Akomish he’s been tasked with protecting. 

Thunderbird didn’t accept the warning at first, instead strengthening itself with a blessing ritual and returning to confront the Bull once more. Thunderbird rallied his people for another battle and dove into it on stronger lightning bolts and louder thunder, seeming victorious as the heat from his strikes brought the Bull to its knees, holes exposed in its tough armor via little hole flaps the kids under the puppet pulled back. And for a moment, it seemed like the Akomish survived with minimal casualties, and the Thunderbird won. 

Until the Bull rose again.

I don’t know what they used to make those terrible metal-grinding sounds, but the kids played the part of a damaged automaton on a rampage beautifully. The screeches that made Brent cringe, the consistent stomping on the stage that they timed together so six pairs of feet hit the ground at once — it even felt like the Longhouse itself was shaking. 

It’s when the kids on stage stopped and glanced at the crowd that I realized it was. 

“Aren’t we on a fault line?” I asked as the last of the trembling stopped. It was minor, I wouldn’t have even noticed it if it wasn’t pointed out. The kids could have blown past the instance honestly. 

Brent just shrugged. 

The kids were prompted to return to the story, the Bull continuing its rampage as it began to take the lives of dozens. Thunderbird fought back to protect them as well as he could, releasing bolt after bolt on a thunderous cry. The rain stick rattled again and again from the ensemble’s hiding spot under Betty’s stairs, finally dying off as the Thunderbird did the most egregious thing he could — he left. Wounded beyond belief and actively scared of the Bull’s strength, Thunderbird fled for Black Tusk, ashamed that he couldn’t even do the one thing he was tasked with. The kids played into this, dropping the wings of their puppet and opening both breaks of the Thunderbird for a thundering cry. 

The sound though, came from outside, a screech of its own as it sounded like something rattled. 

That caught everyone’s attention, parents looking around in confusion. The kids stopped again too, and by the way they reacted, I knew it wasn’t something they managed to pull with the acoustics of the Longhouse. “The fuck?” Brent muttered beside me. 

“Leftover stuff from the earthquake?” I hazarded on a whisper, catching Betty’s eyes. She didn’t look any more knowledgeable, giving me a quizzical look.

“Earthquakes don’t make noise, but what if the Sound is doing something?” Brent pulled my attention away from Betty as he continued, “Can’t they get tsunamis up here?” 

I looked at him like he was an idiot. “Dude that was hardly an earthquake, I doubt it’d do something like that,” 

Brent shrugged, actually scooting down his seat a bit. “I’m gonna go check, c’mon.” 

He didn’t give me the liberty of letting me protest, standing and quietly making his excuses as he squeezed past the people in the row. It didn’t take long for me to decide to follow — if something was wrong with the Sound, wouldn’t it be better for the water Conduit to be there? The kids hadn’t started their play back up yet and the parents were still swiveling their heads around like the answer to the curiosities were etched in the Longhouse’s support beams, so I probably wouldn’t miss much anyways. 

Brent speed-walked towards the exit, leaving me to practically jog to catch up as he opened one of the double doors and looked back, rolling his eyes. “God, why are you so slow?” 

“I have smaller legs!” 

“Stop being short.” 

I debated on spraying him with a jet of water like a naughty cat as we rounded the corner of the Longhouse to the side porch, overlooking the Sound. It was a foggy day, and we were barely able to see beyond where the high tide met rock — but we were able to see where the water lapped away, and I pointed to it. “See? It’s fine,” 

Brent leaned over the wood posts a bit, as if unsure that it was actually water. So to assure him, I waved my hand up, a little waterspout shooting away from the sound and hitting the bit of forehead that eclipsed the edge of the rock, making him yelp and flinch back. 

I burst out laughing, earning a glare from Brent after he came to and readjusted his beanie. “You’re gonna stop doing that.” He threatened, face still as stone as I continued laughing. Sure, I may have pushed too far, but it was absolutely hilarious. 

Nonetheless I forced the chuckle down, opening my mouth to instead apologize because his scowl was just a little too hard, when something cracked in the fog hovering above the Sound. 

It was like the sound Tesla coils make when they zap the air, only somehow sharper and more pristine, and accompanied by a bright flash. There were a few people with us on the Longhouse’s wrap-around porch; parents on a smoke break, a few guys removing headdresses and props from the bed of a truck, and they all turned to face the bay as well, curious. 

The scowl melted off of Brent’s face as the words died in my throat, both of us turning eastward in time to see more flashes, the zaps playing off of each other until the entire Sound lit up like a firework, brighter than midday despite the sun setting. “Brent?” I asked, not even sure what I was asking for.

But he answered, “I know,” on a whisper, hands gripping the wood posts. “Do you think it’s ice?” 

Now that I thought about it, it did kinda sound like ice settling. “Can’t be,” I shook my head, turning to face the waters. “Why would there be lights?”

The flashing continued in the fog, zaps that seemed to try and talk over one another as they cracked somewhere far off on the Sound, the noise echoing in on itself into this cacophony that made my eardrums pulse. 

And then it all stopped. Every zap, every flash, all of it died off and threw the Sound back into that eerie silence the pillowy snow caused as it ate up noise. I didn’t even breathe; I was waiting for the next movement, another sound. Maybe we were being anxious for no reason, and it was some sort of Christmas fireworks show. Did Seattle do that sort of thing? Were we even facing Seattle? 

The people outside with us managed to find their way to the Longhouse’s porch too, layering in beside Brent and I as we all watched beyond the fog, waiting for who would blink first. The only light now was from the sun hidden away in the clouds, and the lighthouse just a few dozen yards off shore. 

“What the hell…” Brent drew off, eyes squinting. “Can you do anything about the fog?” 

I peered into it in that way that was still all too new to me, the water molecules lighting up as well as they could in the sea of sparkling frozen. “I can thin it out a bit,” I offered, “Some of it’s frost, though,”

Brent gave some hum of acknowledgement as I pulled my water out of seemingly nowhere, streams of it running down the folds of my leather jacket as more pooled up from underneath, all becoming sleeves that the people around us gasped at. “She’s one too,” I heard someone whisper off to our right, not doing much to stop Brent from shooting a glare their way. 

It kinda felt like the sleeves were unnecessary, if I’m being honest, but I guess I wasn’t the one that made the rules; they stayed clung to me as I raised my hands and began to will the vapor in the air to move, pulling it down from its levitation to the Sound. Once those would leave, the frozen were bound to disappear just as quickly, and it’d clear up so we’d have a better view of what was going on. 

For now, though, we gained visibility inch by inch, the Sound seemingly taking its sweet time in revealing itself to us. Someone over on Brent’s opposite side began trying to ask me a question, something no one registered as he was immediately hushed because off in the Sound came a new noise: a whistle. I pushed my hands forward in an effort to thin the air faster, proverbially gripping the moisture and yanking my hands down towards the Sound, the vapor visibly following my pull. 

And as the last of the fog dipped into the Sound and only the frosty air remained, it revealed a gigantic black mass hurtling straight towards us at a speed I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop in time. 

“Shit!” Brent yelled as the people around us began to panic, trying to outrun the thing. Luckily, the bulk of it wasn’t going to impact us; it left its arch in the air quickly, rotating on itself again and again as it slammed into the brick of the lighthouse, both shattering on impact. It gave people time to scatter back and kept little more than rubble shooting our way, but definitely still was going to hurt. 

Brent’s arms went silver as mine dried up and he grabbed my arm with one hand, the grip of his fingers bound to leave bruises with how hard he tugged me to the ground. He punched the wood of the elevated porch and something under it shook, thick bars of steel shooting up in front of us to create a barrier. I shielded my head despite not having a need to, the effort doing nothing to keep the horrible scraping sound of the rubble hitting steel from reverberating in my skull. Brent was there, steeled arms cold as could be as his hold went from on my arm to around me, trying to keep me in the small space of the shielding as dirt and snow and dust and brick and wood chips blew up around us. 

There were screams, though I couldn’t really pay them any attention from where I was. The Longhouse doors were thrown open so roughly I heard them smack against the wood wall, voices multiplying as they yelled in alarm. Everything began to settle around us, at least enough for Brent to release me and look around, arms regaining skin. 

People were rushing out of the Longhouse now, looking at us when they first came out and then beyond to the destroyed lighthouse, eyes glancing at the rubble in between. There was so much; shattered brick and leftover glass sprinkled in between the splintered wood from Brent’s barrier. “How much more of the Longhouse do you plan on destroying?” I joked as well as I could, voice shaky. 

Brent mostly ignored me, only bothering to shoot me a brief glare before standing straight to look over his cover at the thinned fog, eyes squinted. I stayed level with his knees; if there was something else, he had a nice metal shell to hide in. I didn’t, and didn’t feel like trying to risk the possibility of being speared by whatever just flew towards us. 

What did fly towards us? I looked around for the shatterings from whatever hit the lighthouse, not many making it past the initial impact — most of it seemed to have sunk into the Sound. But there, a bit in front of me, was a piece of it sitting in the debris of some wood, and I shifted to my knees to crawl the few spaces to where it laid, my hand shaking a bit when I went to pick it up. 

Brent must’ve seen me move to grab it, asking, “Do you know what it is?” without turning away from the Sound. There was this weird crunching sound echoing off the top of the water, like something was consistently being pulled apart and placed back together again, grinding on itself with the effort. 

I stood, moving to place my body back behind the cover Brent made, eyes constantly shifting between the Sound and what was in my hand. “Some sort of rock? I don’t know,” I shrugged. It was black and porous, and while it looked familiar, I wasn’t exactly a geologist. If anyone would have any idea what it was, it was Brent — and that was a hard maybe. 

I nudged him with my elbow, Brent taking a moment to willingly look away from the Sound to take the pebble I offered him. The crunching from the Sound was louder now, closer, shadows of something beginning to become outlined in the frosted fog. It looked like a platform, some huge pier that was constantly shifting, inching itself closer to us. 

“This isn’t rock,” Brent muttered, bringing it a little closer to his face to double check. The ground was beginning to vibrate now as whatever was happening in the shadows of the mist reached down into the Sound, piercing the silt to stay steady. I could feel the perversion, the way the waters rejected the touch. It was weird. Flipping the pebble over once to look at the other side, he began to shake his head – and his face actually paled. “This isn’t rock,” he repeated, meeting my eyes, “This…this is concrete.”

Just then, the fog physically split as another sharp spire of black, of concrete, shot out of it, better angled this time. It spun like a bullet for the Longhouse, slicing straight through the Thunderbird posted atop of it and crippling him in his flight, sending him sprawling towards the crowd of kids and their parents trying to flee the Longhouse. Betty was there, flinching, and Chaz too, holding some small girl close to his chest and crouching low. "My little sister’s in the play," he had offhandedly mentioned to me, "Wants to be an actress when she grows up."

“Look out!” I shouted, the water gauntlets slipping back on with ease. I pushed my arms forward, the rings of waves around my arms becoming spouts as they shot off into the air, gathering every piece of water vapor they could in the rush towards the falling debris and forcing them to liquify. The puddle became a pool as I made a barrier between the fleeing people and the remains of the Thunderbird, catching them in my levitating basin. 

God, I wasn’t expecting to feel the strain of the catch; my arms quivered as the weight of this gigantic wood sculpture settled in my pool of water, and I grunted out in an effort to keep it up. Most people understood this was their chance to make a break for it and ran without a second glance, but there were others just frozen in fear, watching the splinterings of wood and concrete float above them. Chaz glanced at the floating water above him in disbelief, looking over to where I stood with wide eyes, still frozen in place. 

“Go!” I demanded on a strained scream. Brent cursed behind me and there was suddenly more shaking in the ground, making my concentration break further. My arms began to tremble with the weight, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold everything much longer. Holy hell, it felt like lifting a tree. “Move!” 

Chaz nodded feverishly, readjusting his hold on his little sister and standing, spinning in place and running away towards the road. 

Pulling a bit more water from wherever it was stored on me, I pushed my arms up like I was lifting something, the basin beginning to drip into the crowd of fleeing people as more stampeded out of the Longhouse. I threw my hands sideways, the remains of the Thunderbird taking its final flight towards the cliffedge before shattering just short of the grass, peppering the parking lot with the woodchips. 

Brent had gone to work extending his barrier between us and the Sound, the layerings of rectangular steel embedded deep in the rock just in front of the Longhouse and reaching seven feet up. Betty was at his side as his shimmering steel aura disappeared from his arms, demanding, “What on Earth is happening?” 

I moved to shrug, the motion dying on my shoulders as there was a sudden shout from beyond the barrier Brent put up. 

“Where is Rowe?!” The voice demanded, the anger in her screech carrying her voice easily over the chaos on this side of the wall. Some people froze, some stayed running — but it seemed like everyone managed to shoot us a glance. There was another grinding sound and the ground began to shake again. “Where is he?!”

The grinding became accompanied by a harsh slamming sound as the concrete stacked on itself, the absolute tower she was making quickly becoming visible over our wall. I’d never seen anything like it; spires shot out diagonally to make the outlinings of a pyramid but abandoned the project midway through, instead forming tiered platforms. In lieu of a pointed top there was a flat podium barely five feet across, and standing there with pristine black sci-fi looking armor over a bright orange jumpsuit was Brooke Augustine, angry sleeves of concrete swirling rapidly around her arms. 

“She’s the one that broke out,” I breathed, looking at Brent. He sorta tucked himself closer against the wall he made, looking between Betty and I.

Betty, while she was a bit scared, was mostly absolutely pissed. “That trot,” I heard her growl under her breath. I half expected her to go grab her stapler and chuck it at Augustine’s head. 

“What do we do?” Brent asked. “She’s looking for Dad,” 

Dad, who wasn’t here. 

I peeked at the huge structure she made through gaps in Brent’s impromptu fence; she had to be like, thirty yards away. Maybe twenty, I’m not sure, I’m terrible at guessing distance. Either way, she was far enough to put herself well into the Sound, the ends of her crazy build diving deep into the water. 

The ground shook again, and gigantic concrete spikes began shooting out of the parking lot’s surface, cutting off running Akomish and throwing cars that were parked. She was herding everyone that remained, the concrete barrier growing up and curving in so it couldn’t even be climbed. Brent yanked me close to the wall, Betty too, helping tuck us out of her view as she continued her yelling. “I will kill someone for every minute it takes for him to face me!”

And Dad wasn’t here. 

My mind ran a mile a minute as I tried to think of what to do. She sounded furious, probably seeking vengeance for the whole jail thing against Dad — especially now that he was back. How did she get out? That armor looked way too high tech; it had a bluish glow in its crevices like it was mechanical, channeling that anger into energy as the cement around her arms spun faster. 

She put a hand out and tensed it, and people in the crowd in front of the Longhouse began screaming; a man partially dressed in traditional costume collapsed as the skin on his body crawled. Ridges and edges threatened to pierce his skin from the inside out, thickening the muscle underneath as the movement crawled from his appendages to his torso. 

It was like watching a horror movie; he tried to scratch the pain away so roughly little pockets of burst capillaries stained his skin, peeling apart slowly as sharp edges of concrete pushed through the perforation. He tried screaming but couldn’t as his throat began to block out, blood pushing out of his mouth. There was movement behind the yellow textiles on his vest before those too were ripped apart as spires of cement shot out of both his chest and his back, pinning his limp corpse right there in the middle of the parking lot. 

“Oh my god,” I shot my hands over my mouth. His blood mixed with the gross black tar that held her cement together, dripping into a pool below his partially suspended body. Oh god. I was gonna vomit.

Brent looked as queasy as I felt, the contours of his face going a bit green. Nonetheless his jaw steeled, and he said, “We’ve gotta do something, she’s gonna kill everyone here.” 

Including us, and I wasn’t looking forward to figuring out if my Conduit healing would reverse that. 

Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I looked at the time: 4:07. Dad called a little over three hours ago, he had to be close. I knew what had to happen, and I hated it — but it was the only way to make sure everyone else stayed safe. “Call Dad,” I said to Brent. “Tell him she’s here. I can — I can go out, distract her—“ 

“Alone?” Brent demanded. “Are you fucking insane?”

“She’s in water, Brent,” I pointed to the barrier beside me as if it wasn’t there. “I have the best chance of keeping her preoccupied—“

“And if she overpowers you?” Brent shook his head. “No, you can’t go out there—“ 

“If I don’t then everyone here’s gonna—“ I cut off, looking at the body. “They’re gonna die, Brent.” 

He looked at the corpse too — only for a moment, because the green in his face darkened almost immediately. It took him a hard inhale to lift his eyes again, this time looking at Betty. “Is there anywhere in the Longhouse they can hide? A basement or something?” 

Betty shook her head, unable to look away from the body. There was a grief to her face that made my stomach flip in a whole new way. “N-no,” she finally said. “Just my loft a-and the other rooms you saw.” 

Brent cursed, thinking hard. The Akomish would be trapped even if they tried to hide in the Longhouse. His eyes met mine, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. 

I spun in place, gripping Betty by the elbow. “Call our Dad, okay? Take everyone in the Longhouse once we’ve got her distracted and tell them to find somewhere to hide.” Dad and Dr. Sims were supposed to be here soon; we just had to hold her off until then. 

“Fuck, we’re actually doing this,” I heard Brent mutter behind me. 

From beyond the wall, Augustine screamed, “Clock’s ticking, Rowe!” She was going to kill someone else soon if we didn’t get out there. 

She was in the Sound; I had a shot against her. Brent was the defense to my offense, and could probably land some good blows with his steel. He’d be in a dangerous position — no natural drain source, and I still wasn’t sure if he’d sink or swim — but so long as he stayed in my domain, I’d make sure he stayed safe. We just had to hold her off, Dad had to be close. 

Betty didn’t look pleased at all. “You both can’t go out there, it’s too dangerous—“ 

“Remember that talk you gave me?” I asked. “Hide or stand up and help? We have to stand if we wanna keep anyone else from dying. Call. Dad.” I insisted, letting go of her elbow. 

There was a crack beyond the wall, and another whistle as a bomb of concrete was released. It shot through the air like a missile aiming for the crowd, shattering upon impact. Shards exploded in every direction, and there were more screams — but luckily, nothing worse than cuts and bruises. For now. 

Betty nodded, Brent saying something about walking along the barrier we set and sneaking to the Longhouse’s side entrance which was at an angle Augustine wouldn’t be able to see. I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening; I unlocked my phone and opened my messages, the string of texts between Dad and I, the only chat there. He’d sent me a picture of the vintage chest I used to hoard my journals and pens and stuff in, shoved in the very back of the truck’s bed. I hadn’t gotten to respond because he called immediately after with the news that he and Dr. Sims were on the way. 

As Betty begged us to stay safe and began a hobbled gait along the steel wall, my thumbs flew across the keyboard, typing out and sending “i love you” before I released my grip on the phone and let it fall into the snow pile at my feet. I wasn’t going to drown this phone. I promised Dad I wouldn’t. 

“There’s a lot of pollution in the Sound,” I told Brent. “If I can find anything steel, I’ll throw it up for you — if not, I’ll cover you while you retreat. Use that pavilion Dad took us to yesterday,” 

Brent nodded, his ashen face disappearing as steel overtook his skin, securing him in his armored mimicry. “You ready?” He asked. 

No. “Yeah,” 

“Alright,” he turned to the wall. “Let’s do this.” 

[smallcatsims]

Medieval Career Defaults

Alright, I’ve got another mod for you. It’s not as fabulous as my face templates but potentially useful to other simmers who do historical gameplay.

There are some amazing career replacements on Plumbob Keep by Bethgael and Morganna, but they don’t quite cover all the maxis careers, and I would have sims wanting to become a journalist/entertainer/etc and having to just ignore those wants, letting them take up slots. I decided to make my own, and I would never have figured it out without this tutorial from episims so props to them.

 Also I tried to make these as flexible as I could for different historical games. Note that I am not a history professor or anything like that and please don’t send me hate mail just because I got some detail wrong. I play my historical hoods (some mix of medieval, regency, victorian, cavemen.. I have a westeros neighborhood too) pretty much based on aesthetics and I’m sorry if some details aren’t completely accurate. I’m also very new to modding and haven’t done much except edit the flavor text and chance cards. I don’t know how to make new icons, change the career rewards, and I’m not even sure if the text on the ltws will match the new career names.

Today I have a few defaults for you, for three different careers. I do plan to upload a couple more of them later as well. I included versions with the maxis pay and with pay reduced by about one half since I find my sims get too rich too quickly with maxis pay, especially for historical sims. More details under the cut but I’ll put the links up here because I get a bit rambly lol. 

Defaults with 

maxis pay

reduced pay

Artist - replaced with.. artist. But there’s no fashion photography, comic book writing, making llama souveniers, etc. There is some art forgery and the top level is still called “visionary” but the chance cards are altered to be more period accurate. In the medieval times, artistry was considered to be much more of a practical and well paying career than it is nowadays. Artists worked in workshops where a master artist would enlist apprentices and other underlings to fulfil commissions. Your sim will go from an apprentice, work their way up through a workshop, and eventual become a royal artist.. until their work is so universally revered that they are considered a visionary.

Entertainer replaced with.. entertainer. I swear not all of them are this boring lol. It’s mostly very similar, lots of juggling, ventriloquism, singing for knights at court, becoming a court jester etc. There are a couple of “woohoo work” levels just to be warned. Custom chance cards, meant to fit the time period.

Journalism replaced with.. poet. Now this one requires some explanation. I had a lot of trouble coming up with this one. Newspapers are a pretty new invention, considering that so many people didn’t know how to read during the medieval era. News was delivered by town criers for many years, which I could not figure out how to make a 10 level maxis career out of. Sometimes news was delivered on little brochures like Lady Whistledown in Bridgerton, and news papers obviously became a thing at one point but I would have to do so much research to try to make that accurate at all and the way it works varies significantly across times and places. I ended up making a Shakespeare inspired poet/playwright career. Again, custom chance cards to make it period accurate.

I’m planning defaults for the adventurer and intelligence careers as well. The adventurer career will be just called dread pirate and filled with 10 levels of pirate stuff. The intelligence default is based on the spies from sims medieval. I have a lot done, I just haven’t finished the chance cards for those two careers. Chance cards are hard and take forever to write. I worked really hard on the ones in these so I hope you enjoy!

[stickers-on-a-laptop]

Kiva, 'Family'.

Thank you.

Here's Good News: Friends Are The Family You Can Choose

Wataru had always known he would never fit the definition of someone in a “normal” family. After all, with him being half-Fangire (something most people had never heard of), his father dead, and his mother only coming into his life when he was in his twenties, it would be hard to. 

But currently, he was holding a baby boy, one he knew he’d have but still couldn’t believe was in his arms, and trying to sing him to sleep, but Masao was fussy at the moment. 

“Here, let me try,” Shizuka said, who had come after her university classes. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the middle schooler who had barged into his life without warning was indeed grown up now. 

Wataru gratefully handed him over, pulling out a violin that had been recently fixed. 

After a few notes, Kengo came out of the kitchen, grinning as he wiped his hands on his apron. 

“Trying to make Masao fall asleep?” he asked in the quietest voice Wataru had heard from the ex-rocker. 

“He’s starting to get sleepy,” Shizuka said fondly. “He likes his aunt Shizuka.” Indeed, Masao was starting to settle. 

“You’re good with him,” Kivat agreed, Tatsulot peering at the baby who was making half-hearted grabs at him.

“Is he still crying when Nago holds him?” Shizuka asked as she half danced around the room, swaying Misao as Wataru played a simple lullaby. 

“Not as much,” Kengo said, chuckling. “He likes Megumi-chan, though. We’re going to meet them for dinner at mald’amour tonight, actually. That’s why he needs his nap!” 

“Did you want to come?” Wataru asked. “You could bring your girlfriend, if you wanted.” 

“Mmm…better not. We need to study. Thanks for the invitation though!” 

“Masao’s asleep,” Kivat announced. Wataru knew at some point he’d have a son too, which was a very bizarre thought. 

“I’ll take him,” Maya said, having come into the room with no one noticing. 

“Here, go to grandma,” Shizuka said, carefully handing the sleeping Masao over. 

“Taiga is on his way,” Maya informed the group. “He just called.” 

Wataru nodded, hoping that the King duties wouldn’t be too taxing today. It was a lot to balance with a baby in the house now. 

Maya left the room, leaving Shizuka to tell Wataru and Kengo about her classes. The three of them discussed music theory, Shizuka explaining that one of her next assignments was to create a short piece and play it, using the violin that Wataru had to write a bit, Kengo proclaiming all of it “rocking”, to Wataru’s amusement. 

When she got a text from her girlfriend, though, she decided to leave, telling the two of them she’d come again in a few days. 

“Oh, hey, shhh, Masao’s asleep,” Wataru heard as he was putting the violin away, which announced Taiga’s arrival. “Bye, everyone~!” 

Wataru stepped out of the woodworking room, finding Taiga taking a second to look at the sleeping Masao, his gloved hand on the baby’s head. 

“He’s going to look just like your father, isn’t he?” Taiga said. “Even now, you can see it.” 

“Mm,” Wataru agreed. “How’s everything going?” 

“Well…” 

---

By the time Taiga left, Wataru’s head was spinning with the latest information. He considered cancelling with Megumi and Nago, but he also knew he had to get out of the house sometimes. Plus, Master had yet to see the baby, although he knew about him. It wouldn’t be fair to cancel this late, as well.

A babble of baby words meant that Masao had woken up, so Wataru went to check on him. He found Kengo singing a tuneless song as he changed Masao’s diaper, Kivat looking on in approval. He wasn’t giving Kengo advice like he gave Wataru, he noticed. But that was okay, since Wataru was getting better. 

“Hey, look, it’s your Papa,” Kengo said once Masao was all changed. “You ready to go to a restaurant, hmm?” 

Masao looked over, giving his father a smile once he saw him. 

“You okay to go, Wataru?” Kengo asked, looking Wataru over. 

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” Wataru replied. “I know Master wants to see Masao, since Jirou won’t stop talking about him.”  

“Just let me know if you want to leave early, then,” Kengo said cheerfully. “Masao’s all dressed, so you ready?” 

Wataru nodded, grabbing a jacket before putting Wataru in his stroller. 

---

As predicted, Master fussed over Masao while Wataru and Kengo got settled at a table with Megumi and Nago.

“How’s the baby been?” Megumi asked excitedly. 

“He’s a cheerful little man!” Kengo answered. “Loves Wataru’s music.” 

Nago frowned at Master cooing over the baby. “Is Master going to let the dogs be with the baby?” 

Wataru, who knew all three of the Golden Retrievers were the friendliest dogs on the planet, wasn’t too concerned. He was going to try to raise his son to not be as afraid as everything as he had been, and that meant letting friendly dogs be with a baby sometimes. However, with Nago still being fairly uptight and having ideas on how to raise Masao, it made things a little difficult sometimes. 

“Oh, relax! Masao will be fine, look, he likes them!” Megumi said as Master carefully introduced Masao to one dog at a time. The baby was giggling as he grabbed at their fur, the dogs all patiently tolerating it. 

“We’re never going to get dinner at this point,” Nago muttered. 

He was wrong, though, Master getting out a baby chair and placing Masao in it a few minutes later, sitting him next to Nago. Even Nago wasn’t immune to Masao being so cheerful, although he’d try to look stern.

“He’s so grumpy, except with Masao,” Megumi stage-whispered across the table, making Kengo laugh and Wataru smile. 

“Here, four omurice,” Master said, handing out the plates. 

“Thank you, Master!” four voices chorused, three cheerful and one grumpy. There was a pause and then some gurgles in the same tone, making everyone laugh. 

“He’s going to be a good kid,” Master declared. 

“With these two as his parents and us? Yeah he is,” Megumi agreed. 

As Wataru listened to Megumi’s stories, knowing that in a few days he and Masao would go see Jirou and the others, he had to agree that Masao was going to be just fine. 

[livealittleoc-cb]

Happy Birthday Pretty Luna!

🍹: Happy birthday my pretty girl!~ We thought it would be fun to celebrate as a family 🥰 Jay can’t stay the whole time but Jooheon has everything planned out!~ *smiles* your gift from me is these candles I made.~ Jooheon has a lot pressed flowers and I turned them into these lovely candles that also work for protections and such. They also smell like vanilla *laughs* I hope you like them and you can put them to some good use

💀: I got you some quartz, crystal quartz, rose quartz! You can never have too many quartzes~ When I see quartz I think about you so I thought it would be really fitting gift and crystals are my specialty too so, heh, had to do it.~ *snorts*

✨: And from me since I’m sentimental I made an affirmations jar. *smiles big* each little star has a book quote, a small poem line, daily affirmation and so on and so forth. I hope it can cheer you up if you ever have a bad day or help you start the morning off with a big dazzling and beautiful smile.~

✨: So for today I have planned a little trip to this cute cafe that none of us have gone to. *laughs* I was thinking we could all experience it together, I’ve good reviews of their foods and drinks and thought it would be perfect for your birthday. Trying something new and fun.

🍹: They also have a bookstore upstairs so if you’ll like any specific books or any cute stationery I’ll gladly buy it for you my love.

💀: I’ll be there for that! I saw reviews on it and people say it’s a very very good and comfortable place.~

✨: I’ll be holding our seats at the cafe! I hope my outfit isn’t too casual-.

🍹: I’m coming to pick you up with Jay, you should wear some green so we can match.~ Hehe

✨: While they go and pick you up, I'll explain the rest of what I had planned.~ I know this lake in the human world thats kind of far away but it's a really pretty area and it has a perfect view of the starry sky. I can bring my telescope and we can get some snacks with drinks and have a little lake side stargazing. I think it would be a nice way to end the day after being around so many people. We can even get a little cake and sing Happy Birthday!

I hope you like everything and that we can give you a good day you'll enjoy and remember.

@lunaaofthemoon