#multichap

[ksficrec]

Run with the Hares (Hunt with the Hounds)

By: @brighteuphony

Link: Ao3

Words: 9k | E | tw: -- | Ongoing

--

ANBU masks are passed down. Some are so notorious they never see the light of day, and some are better off staying buried. Kakashi finds himself faced with the past when the Hound is assigned to his guard detail.

🌸 I am so excited abt this fic!!! Brand spanking new, I am beta for it, and it's going to be so much fun!! tysm to brighteuphony for writing this and indulging with me hehehe, join us on this journey

[turnupswritessometimes]

Visions are Seldom All They Seem - SoRiku Fanfic - Chapter Two

First | Next

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63723232/chapters/163368439

Summary:

“C'mon, Sora - I thought you had more fight than that,” he said. Smiled, just like a hero. He still sat on the floor. Staring at this saviour. This saviour, who looked at him, as though he was expecting a reaction. There was something, he thought – he knew – but he couldn’t remember. It was like he’d forgotten his lines for a play. The boy frowned a little. Still offered his hand to help him up. “Thank you,” he said. “Sora,” he said again, but this time he was fizzy around the edges. The image was starting to fade. Sora was already becoming aware of the pillow below him. He burrowed into his sheets, trying to hold onto the dream for a little longer.

Riku is Sora’s Dream Eater. He manages to reach him in his dreams - it comes with unexpected consequences.

Word Count: 3,414

Chapter Two

“Tell me another story,” Sora said.

It was amazing that his mind could come up with stories within dreams, he thought. Supposed they were fragments of bits and pieces he’d heard throughout the day becoming a narrative. But when that happened, usually it didn’t make any sense. The stories Riku told in his dream did. Riku did. He’d never known anything like it.

He loved these dreams.

They were outside the castle, now, on a balcony. When Riku had found him, standing against the monsters and yet unable to wield a key of his own, he’d led him from the lobby. He’d reached out his fingers, as though he was going to take Sora’s hand, but hesitated.

Sora had followed, for a moment, before he slipped his fingers into Riku’s. He knew he wouldn’t have the courage to take a pretty boy’s hand in real life, but it was easy to do it in a dream. It didn’t matter, because it wasn’t real.

Riku started. His fingers tightened. He hadn’t let go. He’d continued, across the room, until he came to the huge double doors. He placed his other hand on the deep, dark wood. Sora saw him take a deep breath; it made his eyelashes flutter. Then, he pushed.

He revealed the outside of the castle – of Hollow Bastion.

It was stunning. All white marble flagstones, with a matching, intricate fence. All of it glowed amber and rose in the twilight. The castle was high enough that it seemed level with the horizon. The soft clouds were painted by the setting sun, stained saffron and gold.

Sora felt like he was flying. When he stepped up to the marble fence, he discovered the castle really was high in the sky, more courtyards spanning below, all the way to a town in the very distance, practically hidden. Of course, the castle was in the sky. It only made sense.

“Be careful,” Riku had said, as though Sora would topple over the edge – as though it would hurt him, anyway. He had laughed, and Riku rolled his eyes, like he expected that. Like he knew Sora.

He looked beautiful in this light too, with a halo twined in his silver hair. The evening made his eyes look dark, more like moss than opal; his pale skin like the marble around them.

He joined Sora at the rail, though he didn’t seem to see any of the splendour, and Sora had asked for a story. Riku paused. He wore fingerless gloves, Sora noticed, because he fiddled with the edge of one now. Ran his fingers underneath.

“Once upon a time,” Riku started. His eyes flickered to Sora’s face, and away. “There was a princess, who lived in this castle. She didn’t have any parents any longer, but she did have a grandmother who loved her dearly. The princess was very pure of heart. Then, one day, the darkness came.”

Riku paused, like he was thinking.

“The grandmother made the princess flee to safety – they were after the light inside her, after all – and the princess had no clue where she was going. She washed up on the shore of an island. She made friends there, and grew to like it just as much as the castle. It became her home.”

“But it wasn’t her home,” Sora said. “Didn’t she ever make it back to the castle?”

Riku paused, again. It was one of those long silences, where his eyes lingered over Sora’s features, as though he had a lot more to say – as though Sora should know the answer. Eventually, he settled on, “She did.”

“And did she meet her grandmother again?”

“No.” Riku turned away again. The wind lifted his hair, and it obscured his features. Sora leant over the railing to catch them; to see Riku frowning like he was in pain. He often made that expression. “When she returned, everything had changed.”

“Well, did she take the throne?”

“She wasn’t that kind of princess.”

“What do you mean?”

Riku finally looked at him, then. Just for a moment, and in it, he looked tremendously sad. It was in his eyes. The way he bit his lip. Then he turned further away. “It’s – complicated.”

“How?”

Sora leant further across. Couldn’t stand Riku turning away from him like that – wanted – needed – him to look at him. Needed him to tell him more – tell him everything – to not hold back.

His hand slipped on the marble. He numbly felt his chest hit the rail, and then he was toppling over. He flailed—

Someone grabbed his hand, just as his body swung all the way over. He hung, suspended, clutching the wrist that had saved him. Riku. Riku, holding him tightly, catching hold of the railing himself. Sora looked up at him, feeling his heart racing. Not at the danger – there wasn’t any, here. His heart raced from the expression on Riku’s face.

“I told you to be careful,” Riku said. He slipped, slightly, bracing himself against the railing to stop Sora dragging him over too.

“I’ll be fine!” Sora called back. “It’s only a dream!”

“Sora!”

Riku was losing his grip, and Sora was loosening his. He’d wanted to stay longer. Wanted to talk to Riku longer, but he could feel the dream fading; sensed that he couldn’t let Riku fall. That it would ruin this.

So he let go. Started falling—

And woke with a start. He woke with a hand outstretched above him. It ached. When he drew it back down, it prickled with pins and needles.

Sora sat, kicking his blankets away; they’d tangled up in his legs; brushing his hair from his face. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Riku’s face. Panicked, wide eyed, calling for him.

His heart still raced. He still remembered how easily they’d held hands, and it made his cheeks warm. Which was ridiculous. It was ridiculous that he’d dreamt up a crush, and kind of sad he was apparently lonely enough to. And now he dreamt about Riku most nights. It felt like he did know him, now, even if he was only a figment of his imagination.

Sora sighed into his palms. They were wonderful, vivid dreams, but he had to remember that was all they were.

Then he pulled his hands away from his face, and saw the mark on his wrist. Already fading, but unmistakable. A red mark, just where Riku had grabbed him. He told Strelitza about it at breakfast. The mark had faded completely, but he knew it had been there.

“Maybe you did it yourself,” she said. “You said that you were reaching out, maybe you also grabbed yourself.”

“I don’t think so,” Sora replied. “Otherwise, I’d have woke up like that.”

She shrugged, helplessly. “Then, maybe you slept on it. I’m not sure, but I think you could just be seeing a coincidence where there is none.”

“Well…” He wanted to argue more, to say that he’d felt Riku’s hand. Couldn’t dream up someone like that. It wouldn’t help his case. “Maybe.”

“I don’t think it’s healthy to be obsessing over dreams so much,” she continued. “You’ve got to come back to reality.”

Reality was boring. A mundane job that paid just enough for him to afford rent and food every month and a degree a didn’t have any passion for? It was an endless, unescapable cycle. Sora would rather take the dreams. The beautiful castle and the beautiful boy who didn’t think twice about saving him. Who saved him, every time, and still looked at him like Sora was the amazing one.

Sora was painfully normal.

“I’d better get going,” he said, as a way to avoid further conversation. To avoid reality a little longer, and daydream on his way to work.

Yet, and he couldn’t explain why, there was something in those dreams – something that felt more real than his apartment and his job.

*

“Here.”

Riku pressed the handle of his keyblade into Sora’s palm. His fingers felt heavy, like they didn’t want to take it.

Sora tried to shake his head. “It’s yours.”

“Just hold it a moment.” Riku waited, then closed Sora’s fingers around it himself. He kept his hands over the top. Sora could feel his nails against his skin. He looked up, into those teal eyes. They stared back, intently. A strand of silver hung over his nose.

Sora did. Slowly, Riku draw his hands away, letting him take the full weight of the keyblade. He almost dropped it. It was heavier than it looked, like it was made of solid metal. He supposed Riku had the advantage of those biceps; he was clearly strong.

He pulled the keyblade back up, his body taking on a fighting stance. Another weird dream quirk, that he knew how to do that, that it felt familiar and easy.

The weight in his hand disappeared.

He watched the keyblade reappear in Riku’s. He caught it, effortlessly; held it effortlessly.

“Now you remember how it feels to hold one,” Riku said. “Try summoning yours.”

Sora tried. He held out his hand and concentrated. There was a flicker of something in his chest, he thought. But it didn’t work. Nothing appeared.

“I can’t,” he said. Smiled, ruefully. “I’m not like you, Riku.”

Riku’s green eyes stared at him, for a long moment, before they went back to his keyblade. He loosened his fingers, and the weapon disappeared. “No, you’re not like me.”

“I’m just – normal.” Normal job, normal apartment, normal life. There was nothing remarkable about Sora.

"No.” Riku stepped forward. “You’re wrong about that.”

Sora opened his mouth to argue, but stopped short when Riku’s hand pressed against his chest. His fingers were splayed, and it felt like he would leave a handprint there.

“Your heart, Sora,” Riku said. His voice was low and passionate. “It’s special.”

Sora’s heart was racing like a rabbit’s. He stared, fighting for something to say. It was a dream, a small voice in his head persisted. It was a dream telling him he was special.

“And you’re a better fighter than me,” Riku continued, and it seemed he was half in his own dream. “It took me a long time to see it.”

They were close. Their faces and chests were close, and Riku’s hand was still over his heart. Sora covered it with his, tentatively.

“What do you mean?” he whispered.

Riku blinked. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

He tried to pull away. Sora tightened his grip. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s only because you don’t remember.”

“I want to.” And Sora meant it. He wanted his mind to unlock this dream. It was all in his head, he just needed to create more of it.

Riku gently tugged his hand free. His hair hung, to hide his face. “I can’t.”

“You can tell me.” He was asking his own subconscious to create this fantasy for him, but it had before.

“Maybe.” As though Riku didn’t want to – couldn’t – tell him. Maybe he couldn’t. “But I can’t make you remember."

Sora wasn't sure how any of it worked. He wondered if maybe Riku could make him remember, just by telling him. After all, he’d never remembered his dreams at all until Riku appeared in them. There were the one which felt familiar.

"I suppose not."

"But I can protect you," Riku continued.

Sora felt his cheeks warm. Pressed back against the bookshelf. "You're very good at it."

It made that expression cross Riku's face again. He turned away, and wandering to the closest shelf. He trailed his fingers across the top of the books. It shifted dust into the air, like a flurry of butterflies.

"Not always," he murmured.

"When didn't you?"

Riku shook his head, slowly, as though he could see through Sora’s ploy of trying to get Riku to tell him more. Or to just stay. He wanted to stay. He stepped forward, looking at the books too. Just when he thought he could read the titles, they slipped and merged into each other.  The more he tried to concentrate - the more he thought he'd done this before - the more the dream tried started to slip away.

He woke up to the sound of rain pattering against the window. Sora took his duvet with him to the window, pushing the curtains to watch the drops run down the glass. It was still dark outside, the streetlights distorted in the rain. If anything, they were getting more vivid. He saw Riku almost every night now, and he remembered most of it. Remembered the castle - Hollow Bastion - and the story Riku told about it.

Remembered thinking there was more to that story, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Sora felt vaguely ridiculous doing it whilst awake, but he held his hand out, like he did in the dream, trying to find that hitch in his chest that he felt before.

Nothing happened. Of course.

Maybe Strelitza was right.

He needed to reconnect with reality.

*

Riku woke to the taste of blood.

Ienzo, as always, helped him out of the bed, and as always, Riku felt as though he hadn’t slept a wink. He’d go back to the room Leon was letting him stay in and hide under the covers until the smell of Aerith’s cooking pulled him downstairs. It was exhausting, reaching out in his dreams.

As usual, Kairi was waiting at the side of the bed. She jumped up and caught his hand. And as usual, asked, “How is he?”

“He’s fine,” Riku murmured. There was blood on his tongue. He swallowed it, and tried not to open his mouth too much, in case she saw. “He still doesn’t remember.”

He didn’t dare tell them Sora couldn’t wield a keyblade, currently. He didn’t want them to know; didn’t want it to get back to Yen Sid. Sora was important to them because of his keyblade. Without that, he worried Yen Sid would tell them to stop the search; that it wasn’t worth it.

“He will,” Kairi murmured. “I know he will, eventually.”

Riku smiled, close-mouthed. It felt strange. Something was wrong. He was getting tired of the same conversations; the same reassurances. Nothing seemed to be changed. At least, it didn’t seem to be changing Sora.

He escaped back to his room downtown as quickly as he could. When he looked in the mirror over the desk, he saw just how exhausted he was. His skin was as pale as his hair, and there were dark rings under his eyes. He could still taste the blood. Riku took a shaking breath –

Then opened his mouth.

His canines had grown. Not by much, but they had. They’d sharpened to a point, enough to cut the inside of his mouth.

Fear twinged in his gut. This was different. This was because of how often he was diving into Sora’s dreams. From fighting those heartless. From eating his nightmares. He knew that he should tell someone. Not Kairi – she would only worry, and stress that she couldn’t be of any help. Ienzo, though, probably. He might even be able to tell him what was happening.

But he might also tell Riku to stop. And he couldn’t – wouldn’t – do that.

So he kept it to himself. Ate carefully, but even when he spoke, no one seemed to notice the change in his teeth. As long as it didn’t noticeable, he would be alright.

He wondered just how worse it could get.

He returned to Sora’s dream. To the nightmare Hollow Bastion. He fought the heartless, and pretended he didn’t notice Sora’s longing stares. The way his deep, blue eyes drunk in every part of Riku; how he looked at Riku like he was a hero. Stood close to him; let their hands graze at every opportunity. It made him feel like he’d been hit with thundara; like he was electric. And yet, he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve those gazes, and he couldn’t take advantage of all this.

They sat on one of the many balconies of Hollow Bastion again, looking out over the setting sun, and Sora’s shoulder nudged his.

“Will you tell me another story?” he asked, softly. Like he used to, when they were small. When they were small and still on the island and Sora thought Riku was the best person in the world.

Riku wasn’t much of a storyteller. Hadn’t been, even then. If he told Sora any stories, they were meant to scare him. Tales about the kraken and other sea monsters, about the ghosts living in that hollow tree.

He didn’t want to scare him now.

“Once upon a time,” he said, because that was how all stories started. “There were two boys who lived on an island. They were best friends. Until one grew jealous of the other, not because he was a better fighter, but because he had a better heart. A good, honest heart. So, because that boy was a better fighter, he turned on his friend. He made a deal with a witch to get more power. He took his friend’s weapon away, leaving him to fight the monsters by himself.”

His hand was on the cool marble. He felt Sora’s little finger nudge his. Riku knew he should probably pull away. He couldn’t bring himself to. His stomach was roiled with guilt and a self-hatred he thought he’d conquered. It was a dream.

“Does this one have a happier ending?” Sora whispered.

Riku nodded. Almost smiled. “I said his friend had a better heart than the boy did. That was true. He confronted the boy, and with the strength of his friendship, won his weapon back. He – brought the boy back from the darkness he had fallen into. He saved him.”

“And then what?” Sora pressed. He was so close that Riku felt his breath on his cheek. “Did they live happily ever after?”

Riku thought about that. He ran his tongue over his newly sharp teeth. “For a time.” He paused. Thought about the fact he would be waking up and not knowing where Sora was at all. That after fighting so hard for each other, they were apart again. “I’m starting to think that ever after doesn’t happen. Trouble crops up.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sora replied. “My life doesn’t have much trouble at all.”

Sora didn’t even know he was trapped in unreality, whatever that meant. Didn’t know that he was in more trouble than he’d ever been.

“Well—” Riku took a breath. “You have a lot of bad dreams.”

It made Sora laugh. A bright, happy sound. He leant against Riku to steady himself, and Riku twitched his shoulder to try and push him off. Sora stayed, stubborn as usual, against him.

Riku, despite his better judgement, let him. Sora was warm, and he missed this. Missed him. Missed the fluttery feeling contact between them gave him.

This was Riku’s dream too, he told himself. He could indulge a little. No one would know. Sora might not even remember this dreams, when he returned; it wouldn’t be the first adventure he completely forgot. Then it could be Riku’s secret.

“But I have you,” Sora murmured. “You’ll keep me safe, Riku.”

Riku’s stomach twisted. His arm moved by itself; now that he’d decided not to pull away, it was easier; he put it around Sora’s shoulders, and tugged him closer. Sora’s head fell onto his shoulder. It felt natural. Easy.

“I will,” Riku said. “I promise, Sora.”

Sora’s fingers traced over Riku’s, finding the shape of them, before he took his hand properly. It had been a while, since they’d done that. Riku had tried to minimise their physical contact, since the feelings were only getting harder and harder to push down. Since touching Sora made his heart race and his stomach flutter, and he knew he loved him, and also knew he couldn’t act on it. Sora saw him as a friend. Sora loved Kairi. Because he was a prince, and she was a princess.

But this was his dream too. He could allow himself this, in a dream. When Sora needed to be held, and he was there. When he was warm, and the sun was kissing their skin.

He sat with Sora, looking over the dream version of Hollow Bastion and Radiant Garden.

And would keep that promise, as he always had.

[azaleablueme]

To each one of you following, rereading and commenting/reviewing In Search of Hermione - Thank you 🧡 for once again being a part of this journey. Edited Chapter 17 is now up on AO3 Full Story on FFN

[jilyarchive]

hi i am looking for a modern non magic au jily fic that was based off of dash and lily where james and lily communicated through the notebook when they were kids and then james moved away but they reunited when they were out at a club and there was something about them both being in twelfth night

One of my faves!

Title: ‘Tis the Fucking Season

Author: thequibblah

Rating: M

Genre(s): Muggle AU, Fluff, Angst

Chapters: 7

Word Count: 31,297

Summary: Six-year absences. Yearly photograph burnings (figuratively). Low-cut tops. Two nosebleeds. Little red notebooks. The Past, with a capital P. The desire to pour your heart out to strangers (maybe pathologically). The desire to do unspeakably bad things to one James Potter. These are the ingredients that make up Lily Evans’s holiday season. Shelby the cabbie is in for a fucking ride.

[mousiekosmos]

HI IM ALIVE IM BACK I DIDN'T COMPLETELY DISINTERGRATE FEAR NOT !! i wish i had a better explanation for my prolonged vanishing off the face of the earth but unfortunately literally anything i could say boils down to 'busy :((' bUT WHATEVER WE'RE HERE NOW AND THATS ALL THAT MATTERS !!! HERE PLEASE TAKE THIS FINAL CHAPTER OF RAGBROS BULLSHIT I ADORE THEM DEARLY VOILA ENJOY!!!! :DDD

Summary:

'A Cavalry Captain walks into a bar and immediately slams a few thousand mora on the counter.

“Give me however much this’ll buy,” he says, and quite frankly, he looks horrendous. So much so it’s a bit strange, actually, Diluc thinks as he bends to pick up the coins that’ve toppled onto his feet in the process.

For one, he smells something between a ditch and a river. Probably both, given he also happens to be half caked in mud and various splatterings of bruises, and the lot of it seems to purple under the warm tavern lamplight as he smacks his forehead against the wood, "I don't care what, just make it strong."

The bottle of dandelion wine goes clunking back to the shelf, "Fire-water mixer?"

"Perfect."

or

kaeya has a habit of ending up at angel's share. not that it's deliberate, of course'

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

coffee at midnight

a hotchniss grumpy x sunshine fanfiction

Coming 12th October.

[resident-gay-bitch]

FIC REC! FIC REC! FIC REC! FIC REC!!!!

omg this is one of the first marauders fics i read after atyd and i Loved it so fucking much. it’s so cute and definitely deserves a read!!!! <3

[ksficrec]

To Build a Home

By: RedPowder

Link: Ao3

Words: 80k | E | tw: Major character death (happens before the story) | Ongoing

--

Sakura and Kakashi are assigned a mission that will change the path of their lives forever.

Arranged Marriage AU

--

Submitted by anonymous

[turnupswritessometimes]

Visions are Seldom All They Seem - SoRiku Fanfic - Chapter Three

First | Next

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63723232/chapters/163368439

Summary:

“C'mon, Sora - I thought you had more fight than that,” he said. Smiled, just like a hero. He still sat on the floor. Staring at this saviour. This saviour, who looked at him, as though he was expecting a reaction. There was something, he thought – he knew – but he couldn’t remember. It was like he’d forgotten his lines for a play. The boy frowned a little. Still offered his hand to help him up. “Thank you,” he said. “Sora,” he said again, but this time he was fizzy around the edges. The image was starting to fade. Sora was already becoming aware of the pillow below him. He burrowed into his sheets, trying to hold onto the dream for a little longer.

Riku is Sora’s Dream Eater. He manages to reach him in his dreams - it comes with unexpected consequences.

Word Count: 3941

Chapter Three

There were other changes. Just small ones. Riku’s nails seemed longer – he trimmed them back – and there were two knots on his back, as though he had been hit, and it had swollen up. Perhaps he had been; he’d been fighting a lot. Not just in Sora’s dreams, heartless still found their way into Radiant Garden.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Leon said. It brought Riku back to the dinner table, and away from thinking about his own body; worrying about his teeth.

Riku looked up from Aerith’s stew. He was. He knew that. These new side effects aside, he was also exhausted. He was barely sleeping.

“I have to get him back,” he said. His voice sounded tired and cracked.

Leon examined him, his jaw set. Riku hadn’t known what to make of him, at first. He had been Sora’s friend. Older and stronger and wiser, and it made Riku feel like a fumbling fourteen-year-old again. Made him flustered whenever this attractive man spoke to him like he was in any way an equal.

“You’ve been at this for a month,” Leon said, levelly. “Has anything changed, yet?”

No, not really. At least now Sora remembered his dreams, and the stories Riku told in them, but he didn’t remember who he really was. Didn’t remember the keyblade or the heartless. Didn’t think any of it was real.

“No, but—”

“Then you can take a break. Recharge.” Leon used his mentor voice. It was a demand.

Riku raised an eyebrow. “I’m no good to Sora dead?”

“Exactly.”

Riku didn’t have the confidence to glower at Leon, but he could scowl at his stew. His teeth still felt uncomfortable. Maybe if he took a break, he’d lose what little progress he’d made.

He poked at a potato in the stew with his spoon. Riku couldn’t. Not now that he knew how to talk to Sora again; knew how to see him again.

“Leon’s right,” Aerith murmured. “If you want to continue, then you need to keep your strength up.”

Riku could feel Leon watching him, too. He put the spoon down.

“I’m the only one,” he said. “It’s just me. I can do this – I’ve done things like this before. When Sora was asleep, I was the one who remembered him.”

He saw Leon wince at that, and felt a twinge of both satisfaction and guilt. He knew it was a sore spot. He half expected to be yelled at like a naughty child.

Leon didn’t. His lips tightened, then he sighed, brushing his hair from his face. It highlighted the scar across his face, the puckering of his skin around it.

“Let’s step outside for a minute, huh?”

Leon didn’t wait for an answer; he pushed his stew away, and headed outside. There was the creak of the door opening, but not the sound of it closing. He was waiting for Riku, who looked to Aerith. Her eyes were soft, like caramel, as she nodded.

“I’ll keep the food warm,” she murmured.

Riku pushed himself up from the table, and tried earnestly not to stomp his boots as he made his way to over to the door. Leon leant against it, arms folded. He didn’t acknowledge Riku, not until they were stood on the porch, and the door was finally closed. Leon rested his elbows on the rail, looking out over the square. The remains of Radiant Garden. Kairi’s home. Not Riku’s, or Sora’s.

Sora didn’t dream of Destiny Islands; he dreamt of here.

“I understand how you feel,” Leon said, slowly. “You’ve been through a lot. Both of you. It understand how deeply you feel for each other.”

Riku felt his cheeks start to warm. He stood back, shifting his weight, like he really was in trouble. Because that was a secret, and he’d hoped he could hide it better. Because he knew him loving Sora wasn’t the way the story was supposed to go.

“It’s…” he murmured. “Complicated.”

Leon turned. His eyes were solemn. They caught the reflection of one of the streetlights, catching a star in them.

“Riku,” he said. “I understand.”

It felt like being hit with a jolt of lightning. He got what Leon meant; that Leon was like him. And it suddenly made sense, he realised, how Leon was around Cloud – he’d drop in infrequently and the air around them was always charged. That should have been comforting. It was terrifying; that anyone could guess it about Riku. He stared back at Leon, his mouth dry.

“Am I that obvious?” he whispered.

Leon’s mouth twitched. He took a step forward, and Riku had to dig his heels into the wood to stop himself from running like a coward. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much at all.

“Only when it comes to Sora,” Leon said; put a hand on Riku’s shoulder, and he wasn’t sure if it was to reassure him or stop him from fleeing. “And only to people who understand.”

Riku opened his mouth. Found he didn’t know what to say, and closed it again. He hadn’t expected it from Leon; hadn’t expected it to be such a quiet, accepting moment. But then, he’d only ever envisioned a nightmare.

He swallowed, still trying to come up with an explanation. But Leon understood.

He relaxed; his body gave up resisting; he relaxed into Leon’s touch. His forehead bumped Leon’s shoulder. It was comforting that Leon was taller, broader, than him. Riku didn’t have to be the strong one.

“I know, kid,” Leon murmured from somewhere above him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Riku finally managed to murmur. “He’s not…”

The same. Here.

Leon’s fingers squeezed. “Are you sure?”

No. Riku wasn’t. Not entirely. Because in his dreams, Sora looked at him differently. It wasn’t just admiration. But perhaps he was only seeing what he wanted to see. Perhaps it was only because it was a dream.

Or perhaps Leon was right.

Riku didn’t reply.

“I know,” Leon repeated. “But you’ve got to take care of yourself, too. You won’t be able to help at all if you burn yourself out completely.”

Like Riku was a candle, or a star. Now, though, he understood it. If he did keep on like this, he’d find himself completely stuck – not to mention the other things.

So he agreed to take a rest.

But that didn’t stop him thinking about Sora.

*

Sora hadn’t seen Riku in a few days.

It left him feeling listless; itchy. He couldn’t settle to anything for longer than ten minutes without checking the clock. Time seemed to pass so slowly, especially at work. Reality was boring. Reality didn’t have a mysterious, beautiful boy, who insisted Sora was special; instead, it had disgruntled customers and coffee and the same five acoustic covers on repeat. It had Strelitza telling him to find something to do – sleeping so much wasn’t healthy.

Sora supposed he should have more drive. But whenever he thought of changing jobs, or changing his major to something he was more interested in. None of it felt right.

Riku had told him he was special.

Sora wanted to believe him, though he wasn't sure how that could be, when he didn't seem to have a talent. It was nice to have Riku look at him like that; easy to touch him, as though he had known him for years.

Easier, he supposed, to touch a dream, than it was a real person. Not that they were queuing up in reality. The only person who looked at him twice was that boy with the white hair that came into the coffee shop, but Sora was sure that was because he always seemed to mess up his order.

When he finally saw Riku again, he looked different. Brighter. Stronger. He handled the heartless with ease. Sora was becoming used to them now. They didn't feel as terrifying as the first few times he'd dreamt them. But he knew, instinctively, he could not let himself get caught. Something bad would happen. Very bad. Even if it was just a dream.

Riku fought them. They dissolved back into black mist, and he reached out a hand to help Sora up. He was pressed against one of the bookshelves, back in the library.

"You're back," Sora said. He didn’t let go. Riku's fingers twitched, as though he was going to pull away. He didn’t.

"I am," Riku replied. "Sorry. They made me take a break."

"They?"

"Leon?" Riku asked like Sora should know that name. "Aerith? Yuffie?"

The names shouldn't mean anything. He didn't know anyone with those names; He didn't even think those names had come up at work. And yet there was a twinge in the back of his mind, as though they were familiar.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Riku's green-blue eyes lingered over his features, before he finally slipped his hand free.

"It's fine," Riku said. Though he turned away, like it wasn’t.

Sora followed him, ducking to catch his expression. He saw Riku's lips twitch, as he turned more fully away. Sora followed, round and it was almost like dancing. Was worth almost tripping over his own shoes because Riku was laughing, now, and it was a lovely laugh. He really wanted to hear that laugh more.

"What have you been doing?" Riku asked. He caught Sora's shoulders, and stopping him still.

"Working," Sora replied. Riku's thumbs brushed the side of his neck, and even in the dream, he felt sparks.

"You?" Riku raised an eyebrow. It made Sora realise that even his eyelashes were silver. "Working? The whole day?"

"What's funny about that?"

Riku shook his head, and his hair shifted with the movement. The low lamps of the library made it look like starlight. Made him seem beautiful, when he was smiling like that. "Normally, you're goofing off."

"Well, I said I was working." Sora couldn't help smiling. "I didn't say I was working hard."

Because that was true. Sora did goof off, whenever the opportunity presented itself. He could go into automatic, could serve customers, but otherwise he was always looking for ways to avoid work. Wandering the shop floor with a cloth never failed to kill time.

Riku's fingers tightened. "Same as always."

Sora opened his mouth to reply – to snap back – but stopped at the look on Riku's face. It was soft. Fond. His thumbs twitched again, and Sora bit his lip. Riku's opal eyes stuck there.

Heat bloomed across his cheeks; he could feel that, even in his dreams. He let go of his lip. Slowly eased himself a little closer, reaching up on his tiptoes. It felt easy – too easy. Not really following what came before, but he didn't think too much of it – dreams didn't make sense. If Riku was looking at him like that, and Sora wanted to kiss him because of it, he would.

Sora steadied his hands on Riku's biceps – gently, as though he was a deer that would scare away – and was close enough to see the moment his breath hitched.

When they were inches apart, Riku turned his face away. He steadied Sora's shoulders again.

"I'll show you more of the castle."

When he'd first started to appear here, he'd have loved that. Would have been excited to see more of this place, because it was magical and mysterious. Now, he just wanted to talk; to be with Riku. He followed him through the library and up the stairs. There was a huge room with cross-crossing platforms – he assumed this was the inside of one of the towers. They crossed over with magic he didn't understand and didn’t care to. It made sense, here.

They emerged on another balcony, overlooking the little town and the rest of the castle. It was dusk, this time. Clouds were strung like a pearl necklace across the lilac and mauve sky.

Riku stayed silent. Sora traced his fingers over the marble balcony, his stomach roiling. It shouldn't bother him, that Riku turned away from the kiss. But it did. It hurt to be rejected by a figment of imagination.

Maybe it was because he felt closer to his dream figment than anyone else in his life.

"Do you…" Sora paused. "Have another story?"

"A bedtime story, to give you sweet dreams?" Riku's voice was still soft. He let his hair fall forward, and cover his face.

"Yes."

There was another long pause. Riku's shoulders moved with a heavy breath.

"There were two boys," he began. "They were best friends. They lived on an island, and spent their days exploring it together. One night, they snuck out whilst there was a meteor shower. One of the boys got scared – he thought one of them would hit the island. The other boy made a promise to him, that day. That if one came raining down, he would hit it back. That he'd protect him, no matter what."

He felt a familiar arche in his chest - in his heart. He pressed his palm over it, to feel it racing. Sora looked out, over the sky. A few stars had appeared, which shouldn't be possible, he knew, if the sun hadn't properly set.

"And - did he?"

"He tried his best," Riku replied.

Sora stepped closer. It had been easy, before, to touch Riku, but now he hesitated. Had to push himself to touch his fingers to his shoulder, and he saw Riku jump.

Still didn't look round.

"I think he did."

Riku shook his head, again, though this time he caught Sora's eye as he did. He took another long, slow breath.

"If you knew everything, you wouldn't say that," he said. Seemed to be leaning closer.

Sora met him. There was a warm breeze in the air, the twilight painting Riku's hair with rose and purple. He hesitated, as he raised his hand, not quite having the courage to touch Riku's cheek.

"I don't believe I would."

"You should, then."

Sora's fingers landed. He saw the tiniest flinch, as though Riku wasn't used to touch. He leant into it, a moment later, half-frowning, like he was going to argue more.

He traced his thumb over Riku's bottom lip.

"I believe," he murmured. "You're a very good dream eater, Riku."

He felt Riku's huff against his skin. But he didn’t pull away. His fingers grazed Sora's hips, and he leant shamelessly into the touch. Arched himself against Riku, losing himself in those deep, green-blue eyes. Shifted his thumb away to make room for his own lips.

Riku's grazed his.

And then the dream fell away. The bricks drifted away from each other, merging into the swirling sky.

Sora opened his eyes to his own room.

His lips still tingled.

*

"How is he?"

Riku pretended to still be dealing with his mouthful of sea salt ice cream. He sat on the steps of the courtyard with Kairi, not really wanting to answer that question. How was Sora?

Sora had nearly kissed him. Twice.

And Riku had nearly let him.

His cheeks burnt. He swallowed the ice cream, and it hurt his throat and stayed as a frozen shard in his chest.

"The same," he replied. "I'm not sure I'm making any progress."

"You're staying in the dreams for longer," Kairi replied. She examined the rest of her ice cream, in the dying light. "That's good. And you actually managed to find him."

Riku had found him, when Kairi couldn't. He still felt guilty about that.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" Kairi's large, blue eyes flicked to him. "Finding him?"

That Kairi's bond wasn't strong enough with Sora's for her to. That Riku was Sora's dream eater. That Riku wanted to kiss Sora. It would be easy, when Sora didn't remember him, and he thought he was a hero. Like he used to. When Sora knew the stories Riku told him were of them, and asked for more. Hadn't asked about the princess again.

"That I haven't got him back yet," Riku said, instead.

"Do you know where he is?"

"He just calls it the city."

Kairi tilted her popsicle stick to one side. The blue lump slid to the end. She smiled, slightly. "Can't imagine Sora in a city."

"Apparently, he has a job."

That made her snort with laughter. The rest of the popsicle slid to the pavement, but Kairi was leaning against Riku's shoulder, laughing in earnest. He couldn't help chuckling too.

When the laughs subsided, Kairi stayed against him, her hair shielding her face.

"You'll find him, Riku," she murmured. "I believe in you."

Riku rested his head on top of hers. He watched the popsicle melt into the pavement cracks, leaving a slurry of blue goo. His own was starting to run down his fingers. He left it on the side.

Currently, all he wanted to do was be with Sora again, like that.

Which made him an awful friend.

"Thanks," he replied. Ran his tongue over the end of one canine. It felt like they were getting bigger. Sharper, after that dream. He was sure it was only because he was concentrating on them.

He went home early. Helped Aerith cook dinner and avoided Leon's questions about how he was feeling. He didn't want to talk about Sora. He hadn't wanted to talk about these feelings before, and even though Leon understood, he still didn’t want to be laid so bare.

He'd never been very good at articulating his feelings for Sora.

He slept, half dreaming of blue eyes looking up at him like he was a hero. He woke. Made his way to the laboratory, and acted like he was eager to contact Sora again.

As though he didn't feel nervous about having to face him again, after that.

It was too easy to slip into Sora's dreams. By now it was second nature.

Yet, this time, it was different. There were no heartless. He found Sora wandering the large, empty corridors of Hollow Bastion alone. He looked like a lost prince. Riku tried to keep his distance. That was safer. Make sure Sora was alright. Defeat his nightmares. He trailed him as he crossed balconies, re-entering the castle.

Turning the corner into that corridor—

Riku's stomach twisted. He followed.

Sora had disappeared.

He ran into the room, searching almost frantically. Sora couldn't disappear. Not in his own dream. Not without everything fading away. Would that mean Riku was trapped here?

"Boo!"

It made him start. Made him spin, summoning his keyblade, ready to fight.

Sora stood in front of him, hands on his hips. Looking amused; looking so like Sora that Riku’s chest hurt.

He caught his breath. Lowered his keyblade, forcing himself to breath out. To relax. "You made me jump."

"That was the point." Sora grinned. Uncaringly. Of course he was. "You were tailing me."

Riku saw now. Saw that Sora had ducked behind the door the moment he was inside to make it seem like he had disappeared. He wanted to be mad. He couldn't help his lips twitching, because that was what he’d always do. Because this felt normal.

"I was – making sure you were alright."

"You couldn't do that from right next to me?" Sora asked. He ducked his head, his hair falling forward. The shadows played over his skin; made him seem like a fairy.

Riku turned away. His cheeks felt warm. Remembered that almost kiss. Remembered the warm sun on the balcony, the feeling of Sora pressed against him, the way his eyes had closed, dark lashes fluttering, lips parted. A prince.

He didn't reply.

Was aware of Sora stepping closer, still watching him.

"I didn't think Dream Eaters got embarrassed," he said.

Because Sora didn't believe he was real. For him, this was a string of strange dreams and it didn't matter, to Sora, if they kissed.

It didn't matter.

And when they did eventually find Sora in reality, he might not remember any of this. It wouldn't be the first time. Dreams were fickle things. And if he did—

Riku would cross that bridge when he came to it. His heart pounded; he could feel it in his fingertips; as he realised he was free here. It was just them, and their memories.

"They don't," he murmured, his cheeks still warm.

Sora stepped closer, in front of him, and Riku held his breath. Looked up, slowly, through strands of silver. Sora's finger brushed that hair out of the way. Tucked it behind Riku's ear, and stayed, lingering there.

Riku's hands found Sora's hips. He held them, gently as he stepped closer. He'd grown, a lot, but he still had to reach onto tiptoes to get close to Riku's mouth.

He felt Sora's warm breath.

Had one last moment of panic, before Sora's lips pressed against his. Before Sora kissed him. His mouth was soft; gentle; just moving against his own for a long moment. His hands brushed Riku's chest.

He caught his breath. Kept his eyes closed for a moment, before he opened them to see Sora smiling. His eyes shone.

"I should scare you more often," Sora murmured.

Riku found himself smiling back. "You scare me plenty."

Sora leant against him one hand against the back of Riku's neck. His fingers ran through the hair at the nape.

"Now you know why."

He wondered if that was why Sora was the way he was, in reality.  That he was outlandish and ridiculous just to get a reaction – to get Riku to notice him.

As if he'd ever stopped looking.

It felt like a blow to the chest. He held Sora against him, and kept staring. Drunk in every part of him like it would be the last time they saw each other.

Sora smiled back, toying with Riku's hair. But his gaze became unfocused. Eventually, he took in the room around them.

"What is this place?"

It was a long chamber, with three huge, glass cylinders either side. It was a chamber Riku recognised - that he hadn't wanted to bring Sora to.

"This place," Riku said. "Was built to hold princesses."

"To capture them?"

Riku’s stomach twisted. “This castle is a dark place.”

It was impulse – it was selfish – to reach for Sora’s hand. But he did, taking a step backwards.

“We should go.”

He didn’t want Sora to go any further. Didn’t want him to learn anymore. Not whilst he looked at Riku like that; smiled at Riku like that.

Sora didn’t turn back immediately. He lingered, taking in the chamber; the old bricks and the rising steps.

“It feels familiar,” he murmured.

Riku’s fingers tightened. He didn’t mean them to, but they did. He didn’t want Sora here, knowing this, remembering any of that.

Sora did look back then, blinking like he’d just woken up. “It makes me feel sad.”

“Let’s go.”

Sora allowed himself to be led from the room like a lamb. He pressed closer to Riku, their arms nudging. It sent a wash of warmth through him. It was an odd jolt to realise their hands were still intertwined.

He didn’t pull away. Maybe, if he didn’t move them, Sora wouldn’t notice.

Instead, Sora reached up, and pressed another faint kiss against Riku’s lips. It took the breath from him; and Sora’s laugh after made his heart skip a beat.

This boy was going to destroy him.

“I didn’t know Dream Eaters could be shocked, either.”

Riku managed to reply. “We have a full range of emotions.”

Which made Sora laugh again. He tugged their joint hands, no doubt wanting to explore more of the castle.

And Riku allowed himself to follow.

[azaleablueme]

With your lovely reviews on FFN and AO3 motivating me, I have been doing marginally better and have been able to write. So here is the next edited chapter for ISOH (AO3). Full story on FFN Fingers crossed, the next chapter of WFD should be out soon as well.

[batbirdies]

Ding ding did anyone order some Duke Thomas sickfic??

[theredconversegirl]

Hello. Do you have list of your favourite multi chapter ss fanfic? Hope you doing well

Hello nonny,

Thanks for stopping by! I hope you're doing well too. 💕

Yes, I do! Here you go:

Multichap Fics (Canon/Canon-Divergent/AUs) 🍅🌸

The list includes only complete fics. I hope you enjoy the recs! 😁

Stay Safe,

xoxo

[heroescore]

Heroes will launch on 2 December!

To avoid spam I will post one chapter per day on week days and re-blog in the weekends.

[notasapleasure]

I've never actually finished a longfic in draft before posting before. What are people's reading preferences for something that's 100k (and may want some commentary with each chapter)?

Spread as far and wide as you like - I'd love to hear directly from people who might actually read an Icelandic saga AU about Cassian Andor and Brasso the Ferrixian, but getting a general survey of how people like to read longfic would be cool too.

[sosohh]

@jilychallenge | Partner: @blitheringmcgonagall  | April 2023: Letters and Texting.

Prompt: First date - “ Words We Should Never Have Left Unsaid / P.S I Still Wait For You’.

I’m so sorry it’s late but I literally had to force this thing out of my birth canal. xoxo

Also mahoosive thanks to @blitheringmcgonagall who helped me decide the most embarrassing events to happen in chapter 1

Read it on AO3

Words we should (never) have left unsaid 

or 

I just keep waiting for the day when I’m not an idiot around you.

If you asked James Potter if he loved the theatre, he would answer very diplomatically that ‘yeah, it was alright’, and ‘sometimes the tunes get stuck in your head, you know’, and ‘my mother brought me up on a diet of show tunes, I can’t help that I sing them out loud sometimes, God’. 

As a matter of fact, being a naturally curious and inquisitive (and sometimes lonely) child, Euphemia Potter had enrolled her son into a summer of theatre classes in the hope that it would use up his endless energy and perhaps guide her son onto the path of acting so that she would always have some free theatre tickets. As naturally, if her son chose that path, she was sure he would succeed.

So when she was called into the theatre to ‘chat’ about James, she was surprised (yet also unsurprisingly unsurprised) to learn that James had gone AWOL for an hour, only to be found backstage watching the technical crew pull on the fly ropes for My Fair Lady – ‘accidentally mum, I swear!’ and had zero intention of retuning back to rehearsals about ‘being a tree in the ocean’ (James’ words). Euphemia Potter, being a woman of many talents, strong maternal instincts and an unprecedented prowess at sniffing out the places and things her son was interested in, managed to sweet talk the theatre into allowing her son to apprentice backstage on weekends, which lasted until he gained enough qualifications for him to earn a paid full-time technical position at the theatre.

And so, nearly 15 years later, James Potter found himself backstage during a performance of the touring production of Cats at the WNAC, having only just started the same week.

A few years ago he done a refresher training residential week and quickly became friends with an extremely tall Welsh man called Remus. They’d stayed in touch, Remus often staying at his and his best friends’ London flat whenever he was working on a production in the city, and a month ago Remus had been in touch about a technical position opening up at his venue. And James, looking for a change in life, scenery and jobs, had applied and got the job.

So here he was, backstage in the labyrinth of a new theatre, belting out Memory along with Grizabella who was singing over the tannoy.

‘Touch me’, he sang, ‘It’s so easy to leave meeee – oof!’.

Rounding a corner, James collided into something soft and firm.  Someone, he mentally corrected. Something soft and warm and -

‘You’re dangerously close to my boob right now.’

‘Oh my god’ – James jumped as though he’d been shocked and stepped back quickly, and in doing so, walked into some lockers which lined the corridor.

His curses now joining the clang of the metal and Grizabella’s voice, he could swear the silence from this stranger was louder – or maybe that was his embarrassment he could hear. Blowing through the corridor like tumble-weed.

‘That’, the woman deadpanned, ‘was either incredibly bad timing or I need to make a trip to HR’.

James cringed. He could well imagine the phone call to his mother if she found out he’d been suspended in his first week pending investigation into inappropriate conduct.

‘Oh, it was definitely incredibly bad timing.’ He closed a locker door which had swung open with the force of his hit and had come to a stop near his ear but the locker door popped open again and slowly creaked to a stop. ‘I would never -’ he cut off, embarrassed, just as Grizabella let out another cry of ‘Touch me!’

The woman laughed – prettily, he thought, before internally berating himself; ‘Not the moment, Potter!’ - and motioned to his head, which he still had a held in his hand to soothe the pain from the locker.

‘Do you actually need me to have a look? I’m a first aider.’

‘That would only honestly make this situation more embarrassing,’ James said, grimacing at the thought, before shutting the locker door again, only to hear it pop open a second time, ‘so no, I’m good. But, thanks.’ He dropped his hand, even thought his head was still smarting.

‘Um, right. Okay, well,’ she gestured past James and towards the crew room. ‘Is Remus in there? I need to have a chat about finding the WOC’s Gobo - I think they’ve definitely misplaced it but they’re looking to blame someone...’

‘Oh, good luck.’ James said wryly, ‘I’ve been trying to find him for ages. I think he’s ignoring my texts because I thought his dinner was ravioli and not tortellini and God forbid I don't know my pasta. Also, if I deviate from this path that I've learned around the building, I just know I’m going to get lost.’

She laughed again, ‘Yeah, this place is a bit of a maze, but you get used to it pretty quickly. Mind, if you’re only here for a week, maybe you need to put some chalk on the walls or something?’

‘Oh, I’m not – I work here, I’m not with Cats.’

She looked at him for a beat, and then with some confusion asked him;

‘Oh, sorry. I just thought – I mean, I could hear you down the corridor singing all the lyrics’.

James flushed and laughed awkwardly, his hand making his way back to the base of his head, willing himself to rid the redness he could feel creeping its way up his neck.

‘It’s my mum’s favourite musical so..’ he trailed off, trying to laugh through a smile, which in hindsight, surely made him look even more bizzare.

‘Right.’ She said, and when the silence almost got too painful she added; ‘Um, well, I better get – I’ll just teams Rem...’ before starting to walk away.

And for some reason, some strange reason which made him question his sanity for the next 12 hours straight and sporadically for a good few days later, he saluted and called after her;

‘Cool, okay, well, bye. And sorry for almost touching your boob. I honestly wouldn’t - well, I mean, you do have nice boobs - not that I’ve looked! Or touched! God. Sorry.’ And with a final note of desperation he added, ‘Bye’. Then he turned around and promptly walked straight back into the locker door.

He could’ve sworn he saw a second bail of tumble weed blowing past in his mind’s eye. Along with an actual trickle of blood with passed his eye from the now angry looking cut above the eye socket.

Ten minutes later, patched up and with a first aid form sheepishly all filled out, he finally located Remus, and accosted him with a nonchalant (or so he thought), ‘Remus, who’s the woman that works here with ginger hair?’

Remus, put down his fork of butternut squash macaroni and said, ‘That’d be Lily Evans, Front of House and she’s not going to HR.’

‘How do you know?’ James cried and sunk into a chair in mortification.

[itshype]

Just curious, for people who read WIPs on Ao3 and subscribe to them, do you like there to be a chapter summary for you to read in the email?

If I missed something or you want to elaborate on your feelings please go ahead!