#my fix it fic does not heal much pain but it does heal some

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

"melissa introducing herself to another teacher was out of character" okay then I'll say it jacob and zach breaking up was out of character

[starcurtain]

I wish everyone collectively understood aventurine’s character like you…things would be so much easier! I genuinely don’t understand how people keep getting his motivations wrong??? Could it be because some of the most popular Aven fanfics were written prior to his release? That could have contributed to some of the takes we tend to see about him…thoughts?

I struggled all day to come up with a concise way to answer this and couldn't think of one, so here, have a long-winded ramble:

I don't think early fic writers have much impact in the situation with Aventurine's character now, since most people can look at when a story was posted and go "Oh, this was before we had ____ information."

I think that Aventurine's problem is being a male character in a gacha game. Gacha game characters are designed to sell. Hoyo can sell female characters very, very easily. Give her huge tits and a visible underwear strap and you're good to go. I love all my guy friends, but I'm not gonna sugarcoat it: straight men are not the hardest audience to please. Hit a particular fetish (feet, spandex, dommy mommy), and you're gucci.

Nah, we all know why Jade's trailer is Like That.™

Male characters in gacha are harder to sell because women as consumers are a little harder to predict. Does every woman want a tall, ripped hunk? Shit, no, small cute boyish models like Aventurine are selling better now? Why?! Would a bad boy be more popular than a nice guy??? It's harder to account for women's tastes, especially because they are often (a little) less visually-oriented.

Hoyo is good at what they do though, and they've figured out that male characters sell very well when they possess at least one of two specific traits:

Endearing vulnerability/helplessness

Gay ship tease

Give a character both, like Aventurine? They might as well be printing money.

That sound you hear is Hoyo's stock prices rising.

So, from the very beginning, Hoyo is incentivized to create a character that appeals to people, a character people will want to crack their wallets open for. And they achieved this, first and foremost, by giving Aventurine traits that female players (in particular, but men too), find especially appealing: emotional and physical vulnerability.

We see Aventurine's pain. We sympathize with his grief. We identify with his struggle to make meaning of his difficult life. He's our woobie, blorbo, babygirl, whatever the hell they're calling it now.

He can't hide his suffering anymore. He's on the very edge. He's a dude in distress. He's surrounded by enemies! He misses his mama! He's been betrayed! No one understands him like you do, dear player!

The ultimate feeling evoked is: He needs to be saved.

When people talk about male power fantasies, I think they forget that women can experience them too, and "Emotionally vulnerable man that only I (or my favorite character) can fix" is actually a female power fantasy.

And from there it's really easy, right: the people who shell out cash to buy warps for their harmed-husbando feel like they've saved him; the people who are into mlm ships look for the nearest hot dude to be the savior Ratio was waiting for his time lol.

Morally and intellectually, this type of deep-down-golden-hearted, emotionally-wounded male character is very easy to digest. There is nothing to dislike about this type of character or role in the story: this character is a good guy who has just gone through so many terrible situations, whose victim status makes him endearing, and whose lack of agency means that any of the questionable or downright bad things he does are always the result of someone else forcing his hand, and never something he would have chosen himself.

His motivations are always clear and consistent: get free, heal, and live happily ever after.

Insert the Wreck-It Ralph meme: "Do people assume all your problems got solved when a big strong man showed up?" But to be fair, a big strong man did kind of solve Aventurine's problem, so--

Anyway, it's simple. It's straightforward. Morally, it's pretty cut and dry, black and white: Aventurine is our hero, which means everyone dictating the course of his miserable life is evil.

Hoyo is not remotely discouraging people from literally buying into this emotional appeal.

And trust me, I get it. I'll be the first to admit that hurt-comfort is its own entire genre in fandom because it is so appealing. People eat up Aventurine's tragic backstory like candy! The idea of watching a character go through hell at the hands of bad guys just to finally find a happy end is like the definition of everyone's favorite story.

In fact... people love Aventurine's suffering so much, they have invented whole new ways for him to suffer that aren't even in the game.

This is where we get all the headcanons that Aventurine was a sex slave, every single person he meets hates him because of his race, the Stonehearts are executioners holding knives to his throat, Jade enslaved him to the IPC with a lifelong contract, his material possessions belong to the company, the IPC is forcing him to take only the most dangerous missions where he is being required by his evil jailers to continually put his life on the line... You name it and I promise you, I can find a fanfic where Aventurine suffers from it. 😂

Bro can't even sleep in on his day off; life is so hard for this man.

Being serious: if the game is telling us that Aventurine is a victim... Why not make him the perfect victim?

Why not envision an Aventurine with no freedom, who bears no responsibility for any of the horrible situations he is in or any of the dubious things he does?

It's so natural to like that version of Aventurine, so appealing to see a totally powerless underdog use his own wits and charms to claw his way up to freedom. Or, if you're the kind who really relishes angst: It's even appealing to see Aventurine lose more. To delight in fics where he loses his wealth, where the IPC punishes him for past crimes while he's powerless to stop them... (I assure you, this is many people's cup of tea and the fanfics prove it!)

Ultimately, there's nothing wrong with liking characters who are exactly this straightforward! It's completely fine to embrace characters that are intentionally written to be morally above-board, whose primary role in the story is to generate angst by being a good person who suffers, or those characters who never show unlikable traits, bad decisions, or contradictory actions.

The problem is that that's just not who the game is telling us Aventurine is.

Hoyo may be capitalizing off people who love to envision poor Aventurine still living his life as a slave... But the game also needs to tell a complicated enough story overall to appeal to people who don't care about this specific husbando--Aventurine's role in the actual game's plot has to be interesting enough for almost everyone to appreciate it, not just Aventurine's simp squad. (Don't get mad, I'm in the simp squad with you.)

So his character doesn't stop at just being a pure-hearted victim who is still waiting to be saved.

Aventurine is not that easy to label, and I think the biggest struggle in this character's fandom right now is between people who prefer the even-more-angsty, still-a-slave Aventurine versus people who want a morally grey, self-destructive character instead.

To me personally, while I greatly understand the appeal of fanon!Aventurine and the joy of a really juicy angst fic where characters lose it all, I think that missing out on the depth that canon is suggesting would be a real loss on the fandom's part.

The character motivations that Aventurine shows in the game are complicated. They cancel each other out. They're basically self-harm! He makes almost every situation he's in worse for himself--on purpose.

He is a good person, but also a person who has done unspeakable things. He does have morals, but he's not above allowing those who don't have them to use him to their advantage.

He's both the victim and the victor. He's his own worst enemy. He's a lost little boy who's been making terrible decisions for himself since he was like eight years old, and a grown ass man who is barely managing to fake his way through an existence that destiny is not letting him quit.

This kind of character is a lot harder to embrace. He's done things that most people would find appalling--like willingly joining up with the organization that let his entire race be massacred. He's invented a whole new peacock persona to frivolously flaunt riches he doesn't even care about (Poison Dart Frog Self-Defense 101). He actively plays into racist stereotypes about his people to manipulate others through their preconceived expectations. He's made a mockery of his mother's and sister's hopes and dreams by endlessly trying to throw his own life away.

He has flaws! He bet everything he had on a ploy without doing his homework to find out if the people he was risking his life for were even still around. (Maybe he already knew, and couldn't bear to admit it, even to himself.) He's intentionally off-putting and obnoxious to everyone he meets (Poison Dart Frog Self-Defense 102). He terrifies everyone who gets close to him by (seemingly) carelessly throwing himself into the jaws of death without the slightest provocation.

He knowingly allows the IPC to exploit his power and talents for profit. Did everyone forget that his role in the Strategic Investment Department is asset liquidation?! Like, his actual day-to-day job is ruining people's lives. Canonically, Aventurine kills people when his deals go bad.

His motivations change off-screen in two lines of story text. We're told in one line that his biggest reason for joining the IPC was to make money to save the Avgin, then in the next line we find out that's impossible. And... then what? What motivations does he even have now? The whole point of his character arc from 2.0-2.1 is that he was on the edge of giving in to utter despair and nihilism because he couldn't even perceive a single reason to stay alive. He has no purpose in life before Penacony, and that didn't start with the Stonehearts at all??

People keep saying Aventurine was held in the IPC by golden handcuffs, but how do you tie down someone for whom profit is meaningless? What can you offer to a man whose only desire is to bring back something already lost forever? How do you imprison someone whose only definition of freedom is, canonically, death?

Working for the Stonehearts is obviously not healthy. But that's why Aventurine was doing it--because taking dangerous missions allowed him to put himself at risk. The job that he originally pursued hoping to save his people became a direct means to self-harm, and the IPC's only real role in that was just happily profiting off the results.

The journal entries for Aventurine's quests are there deliberately to tell the player what is on his mind, and none of it has to do with escaping from his job:

Like... Work is the least of this man's problems.

At really the risk of rambling on too long now, he's also just a massive walking contradiction:

Aventurine is among the most explicitly religious characters in the game, yet he's one of the only people in the entire game that we have ever seen actively question his people's aeon.

You might be tempted to think Aventurine's risky gambles with his life as an adult are a result of giving up after finding out about the Avgin massacre... Butttt no, Hoyo makes sure to tell us that even at knee-high in the Sigonian desert, Kakavasha was already willing to risk himself in a fight to the death against monsters because even back then he found his own life to have less value than a single memento.

He's the "chosen one" who will lead his people to prosperity... except they're all dead.

He's explicitly suicidal... andddd also a pathstrider of Preservation.

He wants to die... He doesn't want to die. He wants to make it end, yet goes to staggering lengths to continually survive. (Every plan risks his life on purpose--but every plan's win condition is also to live.) He life is the chip tossed down, but his hand is trembling beneath the table. When faced with an otherwise unsurvivable situation, Aventurine literally became a winner of the Hunger Games. He beat other innocent people to death with his own chain-bound hands just to come out alive.

He knows the IPC failed the Avgin and left them to die... and he still willingly sought out a position of power in their organization. Maybe he really is after revenge... but maybe not.

He starts his journey in the IPC with a truly noble goal in mind: to help his people using his newfound wealth and power. He's a good guy who did genuinely want to save the Avgin and repay all those who helped him. But once it became clear he was too late, once it was obvious he would have no use at all for that monetary wealth and power he risked his life to get... What did he do with it? Unlike Jade, we don't see him over here donating to orphanages. (I'm not that heartless; I'm sure he does actually do a lot of good things with his money on the side, but the point is that the game does not show us that--it shows us, over and over again, Aventurine putting on a wasteful, over-indulgent persona toward wealth. We've supposed to feel how meaningless money is to him, how meaningless everything is becoming to him.)

He outright refuses to use underhanded tactics or to cheat at gambles, which is meant to show us that's he's more morally upright than his coworkers. There's an entire exchange where he says that he'll never stoop to using manipulation the way Opal does. But... he doesn't have any issue fulfilling Opal's exact agenda. He was never remotely morally conflicted about denying the Penaconians their freedom by dragging Penacony back under IPC control.

He's willing to risk his own life, which is one thing--but he's also willing to risk other people's well-being. Topaz accuses him of constantly egging their clients on into dangerous situations; we've actively seen him shove a gun into Ratio's hands and pull the trigger with no care for how Ratio would feel about that on their very first meeting... Dragging the Astral Express crew into the entire Penacony plan in the first place was exceedingly dangerous...

To me, I just think it's vital to understand his character through the lens of these contradictions because they demonstrate the extreme polarity of Aventurine's life: from rags to riches, from powerless to empowered by multiple aeons, from willing to kill to survive to killing himself... He has quite literally lived a life of "all or nothing," and while he is the victim of many terrible situations out of his control, his arc as a character involves facing the truth of himself and the future his own actions are hurtling him toward.

Frankly, the Aventurine that canon is suggesting is a little annoying. You want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and say "Why are you like this?!" And he won't even have an answer for you, because he doesn't even know why he's still alive.

In the end, to me, this is so, so much more interesting. I can read an endless supply of hurt-comfort fics where Aventurine escapes the evil IPC and Ratio is there to fill the void in his life with the power of love and catcakes and be a perfectly happy clam online, but I want canon to continue to serve us this incredible mess of a man who constantly takes one step forward and two steps back.

Who is fully aware of his role as a cog in the grotesque profit-wheel of cosmic capitalism and still manages to say he never changed from the rags-wearing desert rat of the Sigonian wastes.

Who over and over again flirts with nihility but, ultimately, even if he has to wrest it from the grip of the gods themselves with bloody, chain-bound hands, chooses life.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

hello

In what way do you think Dream is disabled/affected post-prison and if he does, what do you think he does to hide it?

permission to yap granted

this is what i do in most of my fics, so i have a good amount of content to go through. i could keep yapping, honestly, but i wanted to include the main things that cause my brainrot. gross pictures under the cut.

muscle atrophy. this happens quickly as the body enters starvation mode and begins to burn proteins. there would be a visible decrease in muscle mass, he would feel very weak and his limbs might tingle. recovery is possible, but isn't as easy as i think many people portray. the body is smart and will reduce its basal metabolic rate to adjust for a long period of starvation, and even after leaving the prison, his body would be primed and ready for another period of starvation. his body has learned that his environment doesn't provide consistent food. the body cannot 'reset' after a normal calorie intact resumes. the body keeps the score, or whatever they say. (i looked at a lot of pictures from 'the starvation experiment'. it lasted a little less than a year and was a setting where participants were carefully kept alive. most men lost 25% of their weight and only returned to their pre-study weight after 2 years of extensive treatment and therapy. u know cdream ain't seein a therapist. pictures under the cut)

quickened mouth decay / mouth dryness. on the topic of starvation, the mouth is actually one of the first places affected during a period of starvation. we don't make the saliva that we should when we aren't eating, and without saliva, the mouth begins to rot. this, along with fasting headaches, would be one of the first things he notices in the prison. it would be fixed pretty quickly upon eating normally.

seizures. many things can cause seizures to begin in someone who wasn't born with an epileptic condition, and dream's experienced most of them: starvation, head trauma, nerve damage, severe vitamin d deficiency, severe sodium deficiency, severe stress. these may decrease in frequency as he heals, but he'll be at greater risk if he fasts for any amount of time or if he's stressed. low-level muscle spasms are also going to be common.

impaired night vision/ decreased overall visual acuity. malnutrition does a ton of funky things, including to the eyes. he'd probably have a harder time adjusting to nighttime; i imagine returning to the prison is comfortable for this reason because he can control the brightness. hazy, eroded corneas are also common and might be visible to others. i put a picture under the cut. notice the green hue.

weakened immunity. like many others have mentioned, he will emerge from that cell with a paper-thin immune system. he'll be particularly weak to pneumonia and other respiratory diseases-- muscle atrophy also effects the muscles of the lungs.

essential tremors. just a fancy word for constant shaking. these could be psychological in nature, given the, you know, torture, but there are some links between malnutrition and tremors as well. he might try to hide it with weighted gloves.

improper amputation. "improper" is certainly a word for it, i know, but i want to emphasize that the kind of chop c!quackity would perform is nowhere near the level of a professional, surgical amputation. wearing a prosthetic would be very painful to say the least, especially if it isn't hand-crafted to suit his residual limb. i think cdream would probably try to endure that pain for the sake of hiding a major amputation, ie leg or arm, but i'm not sure he'd worry much about something like a finger. losing fingers doesn't affect grip strength as much as you might think, and i feel like thats all he'd really care about.

panic attacks, ptsd, memory loss, depression, hallucinations. just being locked in a single room for that long, let alone being tortured in it, would be enough for any of these symptoms. we have canon evidence for many of these, of course.

whatever other symptoms his injuries caused. depending on what tendons/muscles/bones quackity targeted, we might be looking at some different symptoms. i'm a big fan of concussion headcanons, and stiffness/immobility around scar tissue.

ultimately, i think the best bets for cdream as far as HIDING these effects are thick clothing, ill-fitting prosthetics, weighted gloves, moving in daylight, and avoiding confrontation. he'd probably want to prioritize mobility training to regain some dexterity and coordination, and to ensure that he can run away even if he can't fight.

^ eroded cornea

^ the starvation experiment

[wolfienation]

some rhaenicent fic recommendations

grey ridge (ríl liatroma) by molter ( @molter-writes ) - married with kids; business drama; they’re sickeningly cute; arguably the best thing ive read in the fandom; 10 out of 10; read it like 6 times; if you haven’t read it dude what are you waiting for

ride the dragon (and do it quickly) by molter - the #roadtrip fix it 

love is complicated by molter - Alicent is an actress and Rhaenyra is her rich best friend; they idiots and they’re in love; Laena is featured and she is fed up

leaf and blade by molter  - it’s summer; they’re hiding their relationship; they’re teachers; and my all time favorite tag ‘harwin gets a whistle’ 

bodhrán beat by molter - read the tags. its by molter trust me its good.

cleopatra by dontaskmedude   - divergence from episode 4; Joffery does not die; Laenor and Rhaenyra do everything right; Alicent and Rhaenyra raise their kids together 

someone to watch me die by dontaskmedude  - this is just, this is just depressing; good but depressing; like if hurt/no comfort is your thing this is for you; it’s just so, so sad; kinda Alicent in chains/Rhaenyra half year queen era with some timeline tweaks but no happy ending; do not read this if you want them to be happy 

Untouchable by mylordshesacactus - young rhaenicent; if Aemma never died and if Alicent never married viserys; i love this story so much you dont get it

Blame it on Fate by Lumyart ( @lumyart ) - they’re rival co hosts; well, actually, they’re rival co hosts in Alicent’s mind; Rhaenyra is thoroughly enamored (as per usual) 

you don't know what love is (if you don't put up a fight) by tansymeadows - viserys manages to last a couple extra days and Rhaenyra returns after Alicent blinked her pretty brown eyes and said “you’ve only just arrived”

The Silver Queen and the Lady in Green by WanderingFan - idk how to explain this; honestly just read it; it’s really good; slow burn; like incredibly slow burn im on chapter 26 rn and they’ve only just become friends a couple chapters ago but god is it worth it 

is it too soon to do this yet ('cause I know it's delicate) by Arvedui - episode 1 divergence; it’s cute; they’re cute 

would it be enough (if i could never give you peace?) by Arvedui  - Jeyne Arryn my beloved; you and Laena would get along splendidly when it comes to these two nitwits ( i say with affection) 

Midnights Like This by pure_black_wings - based on Taylor’s album; college setting; slow burn

Duty and Sacrifice (A History of Rhaenyra the Blessed by Archmaester Gyldayn) by TheIronDragon10    (@theirondragonrants) - now when i say i love this story i mean i LOVE this story; if you ever wanted to know what the House of the Dragon looked like thoroughly united then LOOK NO FURTHER; top tier; it’s wonderful; it has angst, it has joy, it has family and sibling vibes, it has slow burn, it has pain and healing and love everything i could ever want from a realistic version of canon where my girls can be happy; emphasis on realistic because the irondragon does not pull any punches 

Cleaving to Rhaenyra by WanderingFan - another episode 4 divergence 

you’ve got your demons (darlin’ they all look like me) by geralehane    ( @geralehane ) - the reincarnation au 

lying (in the hollows of your heart) by wakesiren ( @wakesirens)  - read this for the last scene of chapter 3 and thank me later; update: READ THIS FOR CHAPTER FOUR AND THANK ME LATER

towers and dragons verse by beepboop (permanganato) - Alicent is one adorable nerd okay and Rhaenyra just loves her 

what is it good for? by bluebaric ( @viscountcrow ) - arranged marriage au; Rhaenyra is a war hero; Alicent is perpetually terrified for her life  

tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart by alphayamergo   ( @sydneysageivashkov ) - this was just, this was just hilarious; like picture Corlys and Otto snarling at each other from across the council room trying to convince Rhaenyra to marry either Alicent or Laena and that’s what this is

thine is the queendom by liadrell ( @lesbianalicent ) - this was an excellent read, really good character dive on alicent

Ember to Flame by CrowSaint (@ dayneonychus ) - intriguing concepts 

our shadow over the sea by queensmooting - sigh

Long Live Our Queens! by WanderingFan - they’re gonna kill their fathers and they’re gonna rule together and it’s gonna be great

blood in your mouth (I wish it was mine) by dontaskmedude - this made me shed some tears

Of Our Own Accord by 99bad_habits ( @99bad-habits ) - can’t wait to see how this turns out; canon divergence at 1x08; Viserys lives long enough and Rhaenyra returns on dragonback and our girls get to co-rule

and i'll still see it, until i die by irridescence - h e a r t b r e a k i n g; starts around the winter fever and goes backward from there

by choice by alicents - co-parenting rhaenicent my beloveds <3; family fluff told in segments in a non-linearly fashion; it's cute; they're cute; something to read while canon is breaking your heart

good luck, babe! by somebodytoundress ( @somebodytoundress )- based on the song by chappell roan; they're friends reconnecting after 10 years about to play lead love interests in a movie. give the song a listen and give the fic a read

am i making you feel sick? by  somebodytoundress - rhaenyra is a vampire. need i say more

fault lines by rogueorbit ( @rogueorbit ) - 1x08 canon divergence; rhaenyra returns on dragonback and her and alicent make peace; alicent plays otto like a fiddle while rhaenyra stands back and chants "i'm in love with you"

once more, to see you by Jazzfordshire ( @jazzfordshire ) - 2x03 canon compliant. takes place after their sept talk. bittersweet as hell. supercorp fans rejoice because jazz wrote it.

And in the Darkness, Hearts Aglow by mrdcai ( @mrdcai ) - #valyrianmagicbabies need i say more

Desire (I want to turn into you) by mrdcai - they're friends with benefits because they're fucking idiots

lately i've been crying (like a tall child) by noheteroexplanation ( @noheteroexplanation ) - this has one of the best characterizations of alicent i've ever read. it's told from her pov from the beginning of season 2 come forward with minor changes and goes into speculation for the rest of the show. heavy, heavy book spoilers.

it’s a craving, not a crush by BeastGirl2k14 - did someone say toxic modern au rhaenicent with some vampire action thrown in for fun? (alicent with a fang kink for the win)

Where love is elsewhere held and she lingered by koyuki_kazahana - alicent runs. rhaenyra runs after her. there are book spoilers in this.

there’s more i just got tired so feel free to add your own; there are also other stories by these authors (Wandering, wakesiren, somebodytoundress, mrdcai to name a few) which I have not put here that are also enjoyable so you can check them out 

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 2 (new steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one here Also on AO3 (where it's tragically in need of some love *sobs*) Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Chapter Two

Steve POV

Steve blinks his eyes open. Fear lurches then fades. Leaning over him, kinda blurry, are… Robin? Munson!?! He’s at home. Lying on the couch in his parents’ living room, to be precise.

“Steve? You back with us?” Robin appears wild-eyed, spooked out. She’s holding a bloodied cloth over his bat bites, which stab like new again.

Steve presses the heel of his hand to his brow, disguising his pained whimper with a shaky, “Yeeeeah.”

“Phew! Not delirious? Only a bit woozy, huh?”

“You seriously still shitting yourself about rabies?”

“To be honest, no. That’s slithered so far down my list of things to lose my mind over, I’d forgotten. Trust me, he’s as likely to have it as you now.”

Eddie, who hovers at her shoulder, pokes out his tongue, kinda jokey. The rest of Eddie’s face is still slightly blood-smeared. Haunted. His hair is a mad mess, his bandana repurposed as a bandage about his elbow. Steve glances down his own aching body, which is damp, vaguely shivery. Near naked, in fact, with a towel tucked around his waist.

Oh yeah. He went for a swim, and then… 

“Shit! Are you seriously mopping my blood with Mom’s linen napkins?” Steve tries to push himself up, and flops back down, humiliatingly fast. On top of that, his head throbs—when does it not, these days? He makes a more concerted effort to sit, forcing himself through a wave of nausea and dizziness, then notices: “Shit, shit, SHIT! I’ve bled on the couch—this cost a thousand bucks!”

“I knew there was a reason Wayne avoided white faux leather,” says Eddie, as he and Robin share a look. “Oh, and a Munson never splashes less than fifteen-hundred bucks on soft furnishings.”

“You’re hilarious,” mutters Steve.

“Your Pops can chew my head off,” says Eddie. “Some of that blood is yours truly’s. I mean, I got got bad. Really bad. And theeeeen… I got better.” He narrows his eyes to inquisitorial slits, which bewilder Steve, given how rough he feels.

Robin lifts the ruined napkin. “You’re bleeding like before Wheeler first bandaged you up. It makes no sense.”

“Nothing’s made sense for about two and a half years,” Steve points out. Actually, scratch that. Little of his life has made much sense. “There’s a first aid kit in the kitchen, with proper bandages. Where did you think I got the Hibistat towelettes from? Didn’t you morons think to look?”

Robin hurries off. Eddie takes over holding the now thoroughly disgusting napkin over Steve’s bites. “Woah, he’s not lying,” she calls. “His parents keep an actual first aid kit with actual useful crap in it.”

“Yeah, in case you forgot in the last thirty seconds,” says Steve, “the Harrington family bleed.”

“It doesn’t even come out green,” Eddie says. “Totally destroys your ‘rich folk are aliens’ theory, Buckley.”

“Haha,” snarks Steve.

“This might take a minute,” calls Robin. “I had no idea there were so many sorts of dressings. We don’t want a triangle one, huh?”

Left alone, Eddie doesn’t seem able to look Steve in the eye. He’s giving off such awkward vibes that Steve takes pity, nudges Eddie’s hand away, holds the napkin himself.

“I guess this is where I thank you for saving my life,” says Eddie.

“From what I could gather from Dustin, you’d only gone and done the same for us. Not a hero? Total bull.”

“Those weren’t normal circumstances.” 

Eddie’s so squirmy, Steve flinches away too. He’s felt drawn to Eddie for some time. He likes the guy way more than he’d expected, finds he likes looking at him too, crazy rocker tresses and all, but… Jesus Christ! Talk about shitty timing.

It’s not the first time Steve’s been blindsided by a crush on a guy. Plus, he knows Eddie is queer; he’s one of the few other friends that Robin’s lately ‘come out’ to. However, Steve’s simply not gotten the energy to figure out if the weird fizzle of chemistry he feels is all in his head. What he really wants is to stagger upstairs to bed and sleep for a week. No time for that, though. He groans, threads the fingers of his free hand through his damp hair.

 “We need to take advantage of this earthquake chaos. Get you outta town right now before somebody comes looking.”

“Yeah. I figured as much.” Eddie sighs hard. “No more facing down ferocious monsters. I return to being Eddie the Banished.”

“Not much choice, man. Look, we can bring bedding, whatever supplies we need from here. Take one of Dad’s cars and find a place to lay low till we know what’s happening and what the next plan of attack is.”

“You were worried about the couch and now you’re suggesting we jack your Pop’s wheels?”

“I don’t give a crap about the furniture—it was a dumb knee jerk reaction. I mean, things change. People change. Last time I looked, we weren’t exactly bestest buds.”

Now we’re off saving each other’s lives.

A loud crash from the kitchen slices between them. “Sorry!” yells Robin. “Kinda dropped… everything.”

“Need some help there, Rob?” Steve tries to push himself to his feet. His head rush is instant and epic; his vision blacks out, nearly taking his entire consciousness with it.

“Easy, easy!” Eddie’s arms are around him, clumsily guiding him back down. Steve whimpers before he can stop himself; his stomach churns and he feels painfully sick. Eddie wedges a cushion beneath Steve’s head, presses the cloth back to Steve’s bleeding side. “Robin’s right. You need those injuries looked at. I go alone.”

“No.” Steve snatches a shaky breath. “Way I see it, we’re both deep in the shit."

“I’m the one with the murder rap snapping at my butt, Harrington.”

“And I’m the one who’s been harbouring a known fugitive, stealing Winnebagos, and Christ knows what else. Crap, I bet they’ll blame me for Nance’s sawn-off shotgun. While the rest of those underage brats get off light, I’ll be dragged to jail as sure as you.”

“Your daddy can afford a lawyer, man.” At least Eddie’s looking at Steve now. His words still feel like a punch in Steve’s already bleeding gut—with those knuckle dusters that’d gotten lost somewhere on the ride.

Steve retaliates with as daggers a glare as he can conjure: “You wanna thank me for saving your life, Munson? Then stop trying to ditch me.”

Part 3

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

...

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, I would probably cry... in a good way, honest! Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :)

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

Genre: Smut, no hurt just comfort, fix it fic

Word Count: 3089

Warnings: PWP, mild ddlg, soft dom Nanami, plus size reader, female bodied reader, use of the word 'cunt', no protection, pussy eating, 69, pet names, very cutesey shit.

Summary: Days after the incident at Shibuya, your lover and you finally get a day of rest. But Nanami and you have missed each others company, and you take the opportunity to reacquaint yourself with each other.

A/N: I reject the canon. The canon does not get to have my man Nanami Kento. This is a purely self indulgent fic. It takes place after the incident at Shibuya but veers off after the burning. Nanami Kento LIVES. He is very much alive, in our arms, being loved and worshiped. Mahito? Idk them. This goes out to all the girlies that -- like me -- have lost their sanity a little bit over this man.

There’s a faint fragrance of tea when you open your eyes. The morning light scatters through the windows which have been opened to let the crisp autumn air in. Pink curtains flutter in the breeze – the ones you insisted on having when you saw them in the shop window. You reach out to the other side of the bed and feel the sheets, the warmth of its recent occupant fast fading. 

You swing your legs over the edge and find your fluffy slippers. Another impulse buy, but this time, not yours. His. He’d noticed how you always hated your toes being cold especially when you just got out from under the covers. So, when he saw them in a shop while out on a mission, he’d picked them up for you. After swiftly brushing your teeth in the adjoining bathroom, you head outside. The warmth of the kitchen beckons you, as well as the promise of finding him, so you make your way there, picking at the remnants of sleep from your eyes. 

Your lover, Nanami Kento, stands at the stove with his back to you. “Tea’s almost ready my love.” He says, without turning. Of course, he heard you coming! His senses are as sharp as a cats. You pad up to him and put your arms around his waist feeling the broad expanse of his back against your chest.

“You should’ve woken me” Your voice is soft and still laden with sleep. He loves hearing you like this. Smushing your face into his back you take a long, deep breath. His scent is comforting to you. Like home. Like love. Like tea and biscuits. 

“I was just about to.” He replies. You can feel him moving. He’s pouring out the tea. Black Darjeeling with a spoon of honey. The perfect drink for this weather you think to yourself. You kiss his broad back, as he picks up the mugs and slides one arm over your head, manoeuvring you to come and nestle against his side. Even though it’s not winter yet, there’s a chill in the air, but Nanami foregoes a tee, opting to stay barechested. You hope he doesn’t fall sick, but know that his body runs hot, so for him, it’s nothing really to be in just his sweatpants. The incident in Shibuya had left its scars. He called his left side ‘scary’. He’d been healed of course – physically, but sometimes, you thought, there was still some healing left to be done. He would cover himself as much as possible whenever he was outside, so truth be told, for him to even show you this… The first few days had been the toughest. The fear, the pain that wasn’t really there but still was, the covering up. It had taken a lot of kisses – a lot of love, to get to this. A place where he knew you appreciated him, regardless of the way his skin looked. But a reminder every now and then never hurt.  

The two of you don’t speak much, but you don’t need to really. Five years into a relationship, some things become as smooth as breathing. Morning routines on holidays are one of these very things. Sipping tea, watching the birds fly in the sky as it gets bluer. The kitchen windows are like a small portal to a different world at this time of the day. Outside, you can both hear the people waking up and starting to walk around, up and down the street in front of the apartment. But up here, the two of you are in a little bubble of your own. You turn your head and lay a kiss on Nanami’s chest. He hums a deep rumble that you feel, despite it being soft. A kiss on your head. Another on your forehead. Nanami’s mug set back down on the counter. He places a finger right under your chin and gently tilts your head up; just enough – that he can now lower his and kiss your lips. You melt into his touch. “Min-min…” Things had been getting harder, you know this. The curses were getting tougher, the hours longer, and the time for rest was practically nonexistent. The two of you had barely had any time for each other, so today was precious. Who even knew what the future would bring… 

Nanami backs you into the counter. His hand runs down your arm and takes the mug you’re still holding to place it safely away. His lips don’t leave yours for a moment. Gentle, drawn-out touches soon turn harder and more desperate. 

“I’ve missed you baby girl.” he breathes, crashing his lips into yours. You run your hands through his hair pulling him closer. 

“I know,” you gasp out half breathless, “I’ve missed you too. So much!” He pushes his thigh between your legs and rubs his knee against your clothed crotch. 

“We don’t have anything important to do today. Do we?”

“Whatever it is, it can wait. You’re more important anyway…” 

“More than even, breakfast?” 

“Fuck breakfast…” 

He chuckles. “Good. ‘Cause there’s only one thing I want to eat right now.” Your breath hitches in your throat as Nanami says this, then dips down. It’s a good thing he had you lean against something because your knees buckle and it's all you can do to grab the smooth marble behind you for some support. With one hand pushing up the oversized tee you were wearing in lieu of pyjamas, the other circled round to grab your ass. He began to lay soft kisses all along your inner thigh; palming at your breast, eliciting a wanton moan from you which served to spur him on further. How long had it been since he had touched you like this? Been rested enough to even think about playing with you. You can’t remember. One of his favourite things to do is to trail his tongue along the lightning bolt-like marks across the fat of your thighs. He loves to feel the way you shiver at the touch. He doesn’t do this for long though – or rather, he can’t. The gentle licks soon turn to bites. His fingers toy with your nipple. You feel his nose poke at your skin while he’s biting and nipping at the fat of your thighs. They’ll be littered with dark purple marks tomorrow.  He tugs down at the boyshorts you’re wearing and starts to lick at your folds. His left hand switches to the other breast and you raise your hand to place it on top of his. He laps at the wetness that’s formed through his ministrations; his tongue going a little deeper with each lick. 

“Minmin…” There it is again. Your special name for him. No one else would dare to call him that. Not even Gojo and Itadori, to whom he begrudgingly allowed a ‘Nanamin’. He focuses on you. Your shaky breaths, the faint quivering of your thighs, your fingers clenching the countertop. With every new lick, you clasp a little tighter. A single bead of your slick runs down your inner thigh and he smirks. 

“Having trouble staying upright, my love?” His deep voice comes from between your legs. Your whimper is all the answer he needs. He straightens up and leads you to the living room couch. “I want to do this properly. I’ve missed tasting you so much.” he tells you with a sigh. 

You nod, getting on your toes to kiss him. “I wanna taste you too Ken…” comes the whisper against his lips. “Fuck, lie down please,” you beg. 

He grabs your face squeezing your cheeks and plants a small peck on your lips. “You have a filthy mouth miss. I think we need to take care of that.” 

That makes you giggle and him smile. He knows you swear like a sailor and sometimes in the bedroom, you would be punished for it. However, that didn’t seem to be the case this time. No. This time he was allowing you to have what you wanted. How could he deny his sweet girl after all? He lies back on the couch, shifting a cushion to support his head, and pulls your ass toward him. You carefully straddle his chest taking care not to knee him in the process and start to palm at his crotch. He’s already half-hard. Probably has been since he started working on you; ridiculously turned on by your bare flesh. You pull the band of his sweatpants off while he continues licking you. The new position opens you up to him much better and he hums appreciatively. “You have such a pretty pussy baby girl.” His hands grab your asscheeks forcing you closer. There’s a shift in the dynamic. You can feel it. Hands, a little rougher. Voice, a little lower. 

“It’s all for you daddy...” You offer to your dom. It may have been a while since you had had a chance to play but these were responses, now ingrained in you. 

“Good girl.” 

You know you can’t play around now. No more soft touches and teasing. Your tongue out, you lick a strip up Nanami’s length. He groans into your pussy and pushes his tongue further. You keep, licking and sucking his cock, feeling it grow to full hardness. Nanami’s fingers gently prod at your hole. “Put it in daddy!” You whine to him, needing more. “Please!” And he obliges, slowly pushing in one thick finger. You keen and drool against his length. Nanami has the sexiest hands. And his fingers are long and thick. Perfect preparation for the fat shaft in front of you. 

“Take me in your mouth baby girl,” he tells you encouragingly. So you do. Taking his cock in your mouth you begin to pump it in and out, following the rhythm he creates with his fingers. In and out, working his way deeper and deeper into your cunt. His tongue reaches to your clit and touches the nub softly. It feels almost electric.  Your lips stretch around Nanami's wideness taking him in right to the base till you gag on him. You take care not to touch him with your teeth except to perhaps gently graze. His tongue laps at your folds and he rubs your clit with two fingers. You can feel a familiar sensation building. Something that you’ve only felt alone for a while now but that feels heightened with your partner here. Without realising it your hips roll, pushing into his mouth and making his nose bump against your nub. Its filthy, you’re dripping down his face but he can’t stop either. He jerks his hips up to bury his cock down your throat. Your whole body clenches, desperately trying to keep it in. Keep in buried. You lift a hand and fondle his balls, feeling him twitch slightly in your mouth. His pace doesn’t change though. Steady as ever, knowing just how to make you cum. A little faster exactly as you like. 

You cum first. With a sharp intake of breath and a strangled cry for your daddy. Your body twitches as you ride out your high on his face. Nanami’s cock lies in your hand engorged and throbbing for release. Without waiting for a word from you Nanami taps your ass signalling you to get off. He sits upright on the couch and removes his sweatpants folding them and putting them on the coffee table in front of you. Then, he pulls you onto his lap facing him. “Sit on it darling.” he orders. You follow. Your legs feel like jelly. You’re grateful for his supportive hand making sure you get onto the couch and are in position with your trembling cunt right above him.

“Do we need lube?” He asks you. You don’t think so, but with how large Nanami is its always better to be safe than sorry.

“I dont wanna stop and I’m pretty wet but it wouldnt be a bad idea.” you tell him. He kisses you. 

“Wait here.” he says. Nanami helps you sit on the couch and strides into your bedroom to fetch it from his night stand. If you could have, you'd have followed him but you don’t quite trust your legs to move your body right now. Your complaint doesn't last long though, because when Nanami returns, you’re blessed with a view of an adonis. Long legs, muscular torso, strong arms. Your breath hitches in your throat and tears prick at your eyes. 

You put your arms out and gasp out, “You’re so fucking beautiful Minmin.” Your voice brimming with pride and adoration. Your words strike close to Nanami’s heart. He is not a man easily swayed by praise. But from your lips, he would drink every word like a parched man. You knew how much it would mean to him especially after the incident at Shibuya too; he knew you were not one to lie. To you, he truly was beautiful – the world be damned that’s all that mattered. He stalks over to you on the couch, his hand encircling your throat. Its not dangerous, but comforting. A way of showing his claim over his lover. His lips crash into yours and you can tast yourself on his face. He kisses you with fervour. His tongue glides into your mouth in a delicate dance with yours, and you reciprocate intoxicated by the heat and heaviness of his hands on you. 

Nanami sits down pulling you onto him once again. He makes quick work of the oversized tee you still had on. Throwing it this time, onto some surface – you did not care to notice. His lips drop down to your neck, and you feel dizzy, your whole body seems to thrum with anticipation. With one hand he deftly flicks open the lube squirting out a well sized dollop onto his cock, the other wraps around you to hold you in place. Then, throwing the bottle aside he lifts your hips and helps you sit, slowly pushing his rock-like shaft into you, inch by inch. The lube is cold to the touch and contrasts against the heat of your worked out cunt, but you are grateful for it. The feeling of the stretch as he pushs further and further in is deliciously tight,  bordering on being painful. Your fingers card his blonde hair as you slowly adjust to his length and girth. Every inch of you feels stuffed. Nanami’s lips suck and nibble at the skin of your throat. His arms hold you close making sure you won’t fall over. You move your hips. A passionate raw fucking is what the both of you want now. No niceties, no politeness. You’re both overcome with need and affection – making for a dangerous blend. Nanamis mouth drops to your breast. His lips encircle a nipple and he sucks and bites, drawing out gasps from you. He can feel your cunt convulsing around his cock with every move you make. Up. Down. Up. Down. You know his orgasm is slowly building. He thrusts up into you, driving his cock deep. Slamming against your clit. The pleasure you feel is terrible and judging by the blissed out expression on his face he feels the same way. You swear there is nothing in the whole world left but just the two of you. In that moment it becomes too much for him. Nanami lifts you up in his strong arms. Your fat thighs, spilling over his them. He keeps licking and sucking at your breasts leaving marks wherever his teeth can reach, as he carries you into the bedroom almost slamming you onto the bed as he fucks into you, splitting you open on his cock. You see stars as he buries himself into the hilt, frantic, slamming in over and over. You grab his  hair and tug on it – a silent plea for him to come up – to kiss you. He growls feeling the pull. Nanami bucks into you and kneads at your breast as he captures your lips once again. You feel his hands coax your legs up and you’re forced to spread them wider apart to accommodate his broad body. Your tummy jiggles every time he slams into you and you start to feel yourself coming to a peak once more. Nanami holds the flesh of your thighs and fucks you with a steady pace. 

“My pretty girl. My good girl.” His voice is barely over a whisper but you hear the words over your whines and moans. “I’m gonna cum babygirl. Where do you want it?” he asks. 

“Inside. Please!” you beg. You need to be filled by him. You want the feeling of him emptying inside your cunt. Nanami’s cock spasms inside your hole. You feel his release spill inside you, coating your walls. 

He lies down beside you breathing heavily. His chest rising and falling, glistening with sweat. The blissed out expression on your faces along with the heady scent of sex in the room makes the two of you feel warm. It’s intoxicating. You crawl into his open arms and nuzzle against his side, and he captures you in an embrace. “I fucking love you old man…” you whisper to him. 

He laughs. “I love you too baby girl.” Your fingers trail against the pink skin of his scars. And you lay kiss after kiss on his body as your hand wanders. There’s a smile on Nanami's face. His heart is full. Full of you, and your love… 

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

When the two of you leave the bedroom the sun has risen higher in the sky. But that’s alright… You cuddled together, then had a quick warm shower. Nanami’s arms enveloping you helping you wash your hair, and of course, cleaning the mess he made. Your two cups of tea lie forgotten in the kitchen. As you enter you laugh. “Hey, we never even finished our tea!” 

Nanami smiles. “I’ll get us some more. Oh and I’ve –” he waves his phone at you, “– ordered some brunch. Sandwiches.” 

You curl up on the couch and he bring you both the freshly brewed tea cuddling into your lap. Whenever he did this you couldn’t help but feel like one of those people with a big dog who didn’t really know how big he is. Of course, you didn’t mind. He’s here. With you. Safe and protected. Nothing can hurt him here. 

He looks at you adoringly. “Baby, how about we take a trip to Kuantan? I hear they have lovely beaches.”

The End.

[aquared46]

Left Unsaid

Note: AO3 is down, life is pain. My fics are normally locked to registered users, but in these trying times, I wanted to share some here (godspeed to the volunteers from AO3; you are fandom's lifeblood.

TW: blood, needles

Summary: Neil begins to practice with knives again and all does not go as planned.

The pull of thread through his skin was what finally calmed Neil’s racing heart. His hands steadied, the burn of alcohol in his stomach a strange comfort. A bottle of vodka pilfered from Kevin’s stash sat beside Neil on the sink, which was littered with bloody gauze that he used to stanch the bleeding and painkillers that wouldn’t kick in well or fast enough. The alcohol wouldn’t dull the pain – not unless he drank enough – but then he wouldn’t be able to take care of the wound anyway. Still, there was something to be said for the placebo effect, even if he knew that’s all it was.

He tied off another stitch, took another gulp of the alcohol, then continued. Neil and his mother were only able to stop and bandage their wounds like this unless they were safe – safe enough, that is. He could almost feel her beside him again, hands clinical and as she tended to him.

“Stupid,” he whispered to himself – but the inflection, the tone, all belonged to her.

The injury would put him out of practice for at least two weeks. Even he wasn’t foolish enough to think he could hide the gash spanning halfway across his palm. He wouldn’t last half-an-hour on the court without tearing it open in his gloves, and someone was sure to notice the pain while he was playing, even if no one noticed the bandages before that. The last time Neil hid an injury, Wymack threatened to take him off the court for twice as long as it took him to heal, and Neil was sure he’d follow through on the threat if he did it again. Especially so early in the season.

The familiar motions of fixing himself up calmed him better than counting ever could. This was something Neil was good at. Something that he hated, but something that gave him focus. Clean up meant that the worst of it was over – for now. A brief reprieve.

Neil used to wish he could stop time. That he could stay frozen in those brief moments with his mother – in crappy motels or dingy gas station bathrooms – where he could breathe, feel the comfort of her running a hand through his hair and pushing his aching body toward a bed or a car for much needed rest. Because soon enough, they’d be tracked down again.

That was how Neil felt now. Hunted. He knew when he chose to stay at Palmetto he’d deal with more threats to his life. The FBI continued their investigation, hurtling towards trials against his father’s associates in which Neil would testify.

Neil was used to his life being at stake. Except now he couldn’t bear to lose everything for a second time. So, when the FBI called to inform him that they were taking additional security measures due to substantiated threats, Neil decided to take his safety into his own hands as well.

And that’d gone even worse than he thought it could.

Now Neil had to clean the blood off one of Andrew’s knives as well as the carpet, and explain to Wymack that he wasn’t able to play because he’d been practicing with knives for the first time in years.

Neil heard the front door to their dorm close. He finished bandaging the wound, then heaved himself off the toilet. The room spun momentarily. He hadn’t lost nearly enough blood to be so affected, but the earlier panic mixed the alcohol wasn’t doing him any favours. He tossed the bloodied gauze in the trash and wiped down the counter until it was pristine again. Then he cleaned the knife carefully, knowing how much Andrew cared for them.

There was pounding on the door before he finished.

“I need the bathroom,” Kevin demanded.

“And I need another minute,” Neil said. He wrapped the blade in a towel, considering the fact that Kevin wouldn’t like the image of Neil bloody and holding a knife anymore than he did.

There was a grumble and footsteps as Kevin backed off. There was a pause, then he raised his voice from further away. “Why is there blood?”

“I’m fine,” Neil said. Except there was blood staining the front of his orange shirt where he held his hand against it to initially stop the bleeding. It stuck to his skin. Neil wanted to hop in the shower and wash the feeling and the scent away, but he didn’t have the forethought to bring a spare pair of clothes in with him.

Neil checked to make sure the bathroom was tidy one more time. He tucked the remainder of the vodka under his arm, stepped out, and met Kevin’s appraising gaze.

“You’re fine,” Kevin said. He ignored the bundle Neil was carrying in his good hand and instead focused on the bandage wrapped around his injured one. “Can you play?”

“No,” he spat, hating the answer more than Kevin ever could. Neil pushed past him. He placed the bundled knife on his bed.

“How long?” Kevin asked. “How bad?”

Neil shoved the vodka bottle back at Kevin, making him almost drop it. “Not long. Not bad.”

Kevin at least relaxed a little at that. “What’s not bad? What were you doing? You know if this happened when we had any games what this could mean for you? For the team? For –”

“I know,” Neil said. He pushed past Kevin to his dresser, where he pulled out a change of clothes.

Kevin followed after him. “Then why –”

Neil retreated back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face. It took Kevin a few seconds to knock again, no more politely than the first time.

“I still need the bathroom!”

“Find another one.”

~ ~ ~

Kevin hadn’t returned by the time Neil got out of the shower. But Andrew had. Neil hadn’t heard him come back. But he was sitting on Neil’s bed, examining his knife with a bland expression.

Glancing at the clock, Neil could see they still had a couple hours before they were supposed to be in practice, but that also meant that Andrew was supposed to be in class. Instead, he was here, looking like he couldn’t care less that Neil was standing next to the drying bloodstain he left on the carpet.

Kevin must’ve messaged him.

Neil tossed his dirty clothes into a bag so they wouldn’t bleed on the rest of his laundry and decided to deal with them later. He pulled on a pair of running shoes, feeling Andrew’s eyes on him.

“Staring,” he said.

Andrew stood, stepping into Neil’s space. “Where are you running off to?”

“Store,” Neil said. He nodded towards the stain. “Need supplies.” It’d been so long since he had to clean up his own blood, he wondered if he set a record for himself.

Andrew backed away, put on his shoes, slid the knife into his armband, and grabbed a box of cigarettes.

“You coming?” Neil asked.

Andrew didn’t answer. He headed out, leaving Neil to catch up after locking their door. He lit up just before they left the dorm, exhaling a puff of smoke as the door swung shut behind them. Neil snagged the cigarette and Andrew let it go without comment, simply shaking another one from his pack.

The smell helped chase away the anxiety that was creeping back up on him. Neil and Andrew spent almost every night up on the roof smoking since Neil received the call from the FBI. The circles under Andrew’s eyes were almost as bad a Neil’s, but he had yet to complain. He’d watched Neil closely this past week, like he was waiting for him to finally give into his urge to run.

Neil chose to stay months ago, and he wasn’t going back on that decision now.

The on-campus store didn’t have everything Neil wanted, but he would make do. He doubted he’d be the first or the last fox to leave a bloodstained floor behind. If it didn’t come out, they could throw a rug over it.

Andrew grabbed himself a couple pints of ice cream, as well as some candy bars to add to his stash. They left with their respective bags, Neil’s filled with cleaning supplies and a bag of mixed nuts Andrew dropped into his basket without comment. He ate them on the way back to the dorm, feeling significantly better once he had something in his stomach.

Back at the dorm, Andrew settled on Neil’s bottom bunk with crossed legs, spoon already digging into the first pint of ice cream – double chocolate fudge. He watched Neil as he pulled out the cleaning supplies and set to work.

After a few minutes, the stain looked significantly better, but Neil would be lucky if he managed to get it out of the carpet. It was fine. When Neil was on the run, they just had to clean up enough that questions wouldn’t be asked until they were long-gone. Not that anyone in those cheap hotels would stick their nose into anything they didn’t have to. It wasn’t like they had a professional-grade carpet cleaner, not like when they lived with Neil’s father – where everything would be wiped away and made pristine in case of unwanted guests.

Neil jolted as something ice-cold pressed against the back of his neck. He spun to see Andrew, spoon stuck in his mouth as he held his pint out. Now that he had Neil’s attention, he settled back on the bed and dug in for another bite.

Neil finished the job and gathered all the trash, including his bloodied gauze from earlier. After some deliberation, he added his ruined shirt. The pants were dark-coloured and salvageable, but the same couldn’t be said for the vibrant orange Palmetto shirt, as much as Neil liked it. Andrew passed him the empty pint of ice cream to add to the bag, then grabbed the next one.

“Try not to get lost on your way back,” Andrew said. In other words, he’d be waiting for Neil.

He made the trip quickly, not even pausing when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Andrew wouldn’t be the one messaging him, and he didn’t feel like talking to anyone else, especially if it was Kevin ordering him to do things he already knew he had to do. Like see Abby.

He managed not to get lost in his own head and made the short trip to the dumpster and back without being assassinated, otherwise harmed, or running into another one of the Foxes. Small victories. By the time he collapsed onto his bed beside Andrew, he felt wrung out.

He pillowed his head with his good hand and watched Andrew methodically pick his way through his second pint of ice cream. Once finished, Andrew set it down where it’d be in Kevin’s line of sight, which would no doubt spark another rant about healthy sugar intake and professional athlete’s diets.

Andrew reached for Neil’s hand, fingers chilled from holding the pints. Neil didn’t resist as Andrew unwrapped his bandage, viewing the damage Neil did to himself.

“I’d have thought you’d know better than to play with knives,” he said.

“I know what I’m doing,” Neil said.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“It’s been years since I’ve handled them.” He hated practicing when he was a child, always knowing he wouldn’t perform well enough and be punished for it. When he and his mother ran, he stopped training. As she said, the only thing he needed to know about knives was where to stick one to do the most damage. Other than that, the most important weapon in their arsenal was the single gun they had between the two of them. His mother usually carried it, but she still taught Neil how to aim and shoot in case he ever needed to.

Andrew wrapped Neil’s hand back up, returning it to him. “More fox than rabbit now? Finally showing your teeth?”

“Something like that.” Neil cradled his hand to his chest. “I’d rather not.”

“Then why?”

Neil shrugged. “I don’t have much of a choice.”

That finally got a frown. “Explain.”

When Neil didn’t respond, Andrew huffed and laid down next to him, scant inches between the two of them. Andrew kept his gaze on Neil, letting him look his fill without complaint. Andrew wouldn’t repeat himself, instead waiting for Neil to either answer or deflect.

“I want to be ready if they come for me again,” Neil said. “I refuse to run. But I can’t do nothing either.”

“You chose to fight.”

Neil nodded.

“Idiot. You do realize you don’t have to fight alone?” Andrew reached out slow enough that Neil could pull away if he wanted to. Andrew cool fingers brushed a line against Neil’s throat. “Have someone with you.”

They both knew Andrew was the only one Neil would trust to see him like that.

Neil couldn’t help but smile. “You just want to steal my knife skills.”

“What knife skills? I see no skill here.”

Neil sat up and held out his hand. After a moment, Andrew withdrew a knife and passed it to him. Neil let himself focus on how the knife felt in his hand, warmed from being close to Andrew’s skin. It belonged to Andrew, not Neil’s father. He refused to continue allowing his dead father to hold this over his head – especially when this was something that could save the life Neil put so much blood and sweat into creating.

His movements were still awkward, but the remembrance of the skill he used to carry was still there. After a few moments, Neil found the balance of the blade and threw it at dartboard he was practicing on earlier. It sunk far enough off-centre that some old part of Neil curled up, awaiting pain.

He shoved that down and turned to face Andrew. “Work in progress,” Neil said.

Andrew hummed without inflection. He eyed the knife in the dartboard for a moment more, then closed a hand around Neil’s wrist and pulled him back down onto the bed. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Neil pressed his hands into the bed as Andrew leaned over him. He arched into the kiss – all-devouring, a mixture of tongue and teeth that left Neil’s legs feeling weak.

Andrew steadied himself with an elbow beside Neil’s head, their chests almost touching. Andrew’s other hand cupped Neil’s cheek, thumb swiping over the burns on Neil’s face gently. Then he pushed Neil’s face to the side for access to his neck.

“Oh,” Neil breathed as Andrew’s lips pressed against his throat. “You liked that.”

“Shut up,” Andrew said, nipping hard enough to leave a mark.

Neil wouldn’t have listened, but Andrew’s mouth met his again, and then he couldn’t think of anything instead of returning the kiss. His palm ached from when he was gripping the sheets, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he could feel the warmth of Andrew’s body all around him.

“Shoulders and up,” Andrew said against Neil’s lips. He relaxed down far enough that their chests were moving together as they breathed in tandem, but not enough to truly put his weight on Neil.

Neil threaded his fingers through Andrew’s hair, then dropped one hand to brace against his shoulder. Neil lost himself in the kiss, his world narrowing down to the way Andrew felt against him, the faint taste of chocolate on his tongue, the spicy scent of Andrew’s deodorant, the sound of their combined breathing and Neil’s cut-off moans, and the starbursts behind his closed eyelids as Andrew took him apart.

Once Andrew pulled away, Neil cracked his eyes open and stared at the bars of the top bunk. He licked his kiss-swollen lips, feeling loose-limbed and floaty. He turned back towards Andrew, noting the flush on his cheeks and the mess Neil made of his hair. He grinned.

Andrew didn’t even open his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not,” Neil lied.

Neil wouldn’t let what they had slip through his fingers. He said he would stay, and he’d do everything he could to do to keep that promise. He’d fight in every way he was capable of.

A word sat heavy on his tongue – on his mind – coaxing and deceptively alluring despite the weight it would carry for both of them. Neil didn’t utter the words. He cut them off before they could fully articulate into thoughts. There were certain things he wasn’t ready for – didn’t know he’d ever be ready for.

To feel was one thing. To put into words was another.

But maybe that word was just another thing he was running from. He’d fought the memory of his father to reclaim the knives he wielded, and maybe that word was something he’d need to fight to reclaim from his mother.

[somniumfaults]

My laptop needs to be fixed, so in the meantime! Here's my Tokyo Debunker OC that I've been working on!! Hehe <3 i love her and have both a drawing and fic wip of her waiting to be finished sometime ^^

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

NAME: Misha

PRONOUNS: she/her

HOUSE: Sinostra (formerly Dionysia)

YEAR: 2nd

BIRTHDAY: May 17th

LIKES: cherries, pain/masochism

BLOOD TYPE: O+

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Who’s to say there will be tomorrow?”

Sinostra’s much needed second-year healer. Determined to live her life out to its fullest, she won’t take no for an answer, for better or worse. Some of her self-destructive habits worry those around her, but as long as she has no regrets, there’s nothing for her to lose.

Pinterest Outfit References

Taiga/Misha playlist

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Motives: Take advantage of the opportunities you have to make the most of life and never let anyone take them from you. She was placed in Dionysia and transitioned into Sinostra when the house became defunct. Her placement in Sinostra was due to her resolution to be in control of her life no matter what. At the end of the day, she’ll do what she wants to do.

Demon pact: Sick of being chronically ill with an autoimmune disease no one cared enough to look into and the chronic pain, she chose to make a pact with a demon based on her anger at the idea of succumbing to her helplessness and the whims of other people. Her condition was not cured, but it is (almost always) forever at a stalemate as Buer’s ability to heal counteracts the damage done.

Stigma: Uber - can heal ailments* at the expense of an equivalent amount of her own blood

*ailments defined as temporary injuries or conditions. She can’t undo genetic conditions or change your brain chemistry.

Using her stigma allows for her autoimmune condition and chronic pain to reactivate due to the healing properties of her pact being redirected away from her. The more blood it requires, the worse she feels.

Due to the nature of her stigma, she can’t use it on herself because (a) she would be losing blood anyway and (b) accelerating the healing of other injuries would also allow for the acceleration of her autoimmune condition and risk injuring herself further internally.

Artifact: cherry bombs/m-80s

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

❣️ RELATIONSHIPS ❣️

★ Rui ★

Misha → Rui: close friends 🙂 she visits his bar often for some fun drinks and gossip. They partner up sometimes so they can make homebrew hangover medicine and various other quick pick-me-ups. She prefers to use her stigma when he’s around to help offset her pain. They spent a lot of time together in their first year due to being the only two ghouls in Dionysia and work together well. Hearing his voice helps calm her due to the familiarity that it invokes, and she wishes they could still touch each other like they could prior to the curse. She worries that he may be too lonely.

Rui → Misha: close friends! She's his closest friend on campus and one of the few people he truly trusts to voice his grievances to. He isn’t super enthused about their medicinal drink partnership because he knows the side effects on her, but he won’t lie that he likes experimenting with what can be made. Misha is the one who volunteered and pushed to do it though, so he can’t say no. He wishes she would take better care of herself.

★ Haru ★

Misha → Haru: her drinking buddy!! She thinks he’s adorable, especially when he’s all drunk and pouty. She had a fling with him in their first year but now they’re just close friends. She’ll come help out with the park if he really begs and owes her something, because she knows he’ll coax a mile out of her if she gives an inch. She does worry about him though, so it’s not strange to find her stopping by regardless to do small favors for him. Sometimes she sneaks him healing drinks Rui and her made to help give his body a boost rather than just let him down energy drinks. She admires his hard work a lot.

Haru → Misha: his drinking buddy!! He had a crush on her in his first year, but now they’re just friends. He feels bad taking her drinks when he knows they're using her stigma and usually protests if he realizes, but sometimes it's just easier for him to swallow the guilt and take it… He needs it, sometimes. He's a bit sad they didn't end up in the same house for their second year and wishes they could spend more time together. He dislikes that she ended up in Sinostra and is especially unhappy with her relationship and dynamic with Taiga, but he has to swallow his dissatisfaction and concern most of the time because he wants her to be happy. Even though he thinks Taiga doesn't deserve her.

★ Romeo ★

Misha → Romeo: her drinking buddy!! She finds him funny when she’s not the one having to deal with him, and her preferred setting for chatting to him is when they’re both at the bar with a drink. Their interactions can grow tense due to their respective stubbornness and refusal to back down from doing things their own way, but for the most part their day-to-day interactions only get snippy at most. At the end of the day, she respects him and his capabilities even though she disagrees with his attitude most of the time. If there's anyone who is determined to live his life to the fullest at Darkwick, it's Romeo.

Romeo → Misha: she’s frustrating to deal with but capable and more or less reliable, unless she thinks he’s being stupid and in which case she’s an IRB (incorrigible rogue brat). She has good ideas though, and has more drive than Taiga does nowadays, so he doesn’t actually mind her too much. It helps that while they'd never spent personal time together in their first year, it wasn't as if she hasn't already been engaging with and working with Sinostra due to Taiga and her stigma. He definitely abuses calling her whenever he needs help reeling Taiga in. Not that she's the perfect solution, but two people Taiga tolerates and has affection for in his own way is better than one.

★ Taiga ★

Misha → Taiga: they’re in some sort of committed romantic relationship, although it's complicated nowadays. She misses the way he was in his first year; they had interacted a lot because he needed blood in order to use his stigma and her stigma helped a bit with the brain fog side effects. (Although obviously she was not his entire blood source.) Still, despite his mental state clearly having deteriorated, she continues to like him a lot and loves the thrill he brings into her life. It makes her feel alive and in a way, even more in control of her life because the injuries she sustains with and for him are purely by her own choice. (She doesn’t spill blood just for Darkwick. She doesn’t have to heal anyone when she bleeds unless she wants to.) (Also she’s just kind of into it. Even if her brother despairs over her walking into his office with more than just your average hickey.)

Taiga → Misha: he is usually able to remember her at least after a few moments due to their extensive relationship through their first year until now, from work relations to romantic commitment. He finds her presence and voice to be grounding when he’s feeling poor and sometimes when he needs a break from everything, he makes her just sit with him and keep him company as he rests. Over time due to their blood arrangement, she’s become one of the few, if not only, people in his life he feels comfortable being vulnerable and weak around. He likes the feeling of her fingers in his hair. Her blood tastes good to him and he knows he feels better after having some of it (both with or without her stigma), and it's not unusual for him to spontaneously chomp down on her when he’s feeling peckish. Even if she were to protest, depending on his mood he’ll just smirk and/or grumble and say she shouldn't be leaving such a tempting snack out in the open like that then (showing skin).

★ Professor Nicolas ★

Misha → Nicolas: he's her older brother. She’s somewhat detached from him due to their age gap and him having rarely been home when she was younger (thanks Darkwick). Her initial reaction to him was tense and verging on hostile, because she wasn’t expecting to see him at Darkwick and felt betrayed for various reasons. (A) She was upset to see him knowing that he never called home and thought he didn’t care, which not only hurt her but made her angry because their parents missed him. (B) A part of her wondered if this was all his fault and if he planned for this to happen to her and (C) She was angry because if he had just been more present in her life, maybe he could have known about her situation and prevented all this from happening since he had access to superior medical facilities. After a time, she calmed down and forgave him more or less once she realized what the true dynamic/situation of Darkwick was with its staff and students. Now, she’s grown to appreciate his company and appreciate having someone she knows at the school. They have a comfortable relationship even if she finds his concern to be overly fussy at times

Nicolas → Misha: she's his younger sister. He holds some resentment and guilt in his heart towards himself and towards Darkwick for letting her become a ghoul, because he believes he could have stopped it had he been a more involved sibling and realized she was suffering. He also feels guilt towards hearing the confirmation that his family feels abandoned by him, but that’s soothed somewhat by the knowledge that he’s bound by his duties. Although also slightly detached from Misha by virtue of not having been a large part of her life consistently, he cares deeply for her and worries about the choices she makes and the risk of retribution towards her from Darkwick. Even though she's a ghoul and heals quickly, he wishes her and Taiga would show some restraint in breaking her skin or worse. (He doesn't approve of their relationship and dynamic at all, but he's forced to bite his tongue to keep the peace.)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

technically this is still a work in progress bc she's my baby (oc I project onto) and I love thinking about her role in universe and elaborating on her dynamics w diff characters :3 but this is her "final" profile! Thanks for reading all that if you diddddd <3

shout-out and much thanks to @danieyells for their posts compiling info about the houses, stigmas, and more! They carried me a lot in making Misha, and you should definitely check out their posts <3

[starlightkun]

dr_magic2303 ❧ teaser [renjun]

❧ teaser word count: 960 | full fic: 18.3k ❧ warnings: just cursing for the teaser ❧ genre: fluff, humor, one heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but spoilers renjun and reader r both crazy (academically) and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix each other. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too <33

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

Pulling your lips into an alluring smirk, you nodded, “You’re right. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that—”

“A fucking what?” He cut you off, his face scrunching up as he blinked at you in confusion.

“Obviously it’s going to be one of us two, since we’re the two best students in the program.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, seeming to let go of what had presumably been another one of your jumbled human malaphors. You admittedly hadn’t been living among humans for terribly long, and for some reason their idioms just didn’t stick in your brain very well.

“I mean, we not only are dedicated to the field itself and the content we study in class, but the program too. We probably know everybody in it, professors and students, right? Between the two of us?”

Renjun considered this for a moment. “Yeah, probably. We’ve both taken on a lot of SI and tutor opportunities for lower-level classes.”

“Right. So, you know those forums the school has on the online class platform? The general message boards?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to sit tight with me on this until I finish talking, okay?” You pointed at him sternly. He nodded slowly. “Good. Back in the fall, about the end of September, I was on the message boards, just browsing around killing time. I was in the Tips & Advice section and saw this post. It was a gryphon who was losing feathers on one specific spot on her wing, and she didn’t know why. The witch she went to didn’t why, nobody could figure it out. I was about to reply asking if it was her left or right, when I saw that somebody else already had. It was her left, and she’s a lefty. The same person replied again, asking if she sleeps with her wings out or not. She sleeps with them out. It turns out she was stress-preening in her sleep. Username: dr_magic2303. A couple weeks later, same message board, Tips & Advice, a human is suddenly producing dark purple goop from his feet but it’s so slippery he can’t even leave to go see a doctor or a witch and he was typing the post from his bathroom. Within an hour, this Dr. Magic is back telling him someone’s put an aether ooze hex on him, and to sit down and scoot on his butt to the kitchen and gather up all these ingredients for a cleansing foot bath. And if he doesn’t have them, then he’ll have to butt-scoot his way to an apothecary or call one who does home deliveries. Now people are posting on there specifically asking Dr. Magic to come heal all their magical aches and pains.”

Renjun stared at you, unblinking. The pen had gone still in his hand.

You breathed in, continuing, “I tracked this Dr. Magic all the way back to their first post in the first week of fall semester of this year. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out who they are on my own, and I’ve made a lot of progress on who they aren’t. But I’m going to lose access to those message boards once we graduate at the end of the semester. I know Dr. Magic has to be an MCS major, there’s no way they would be able to have to breadth, depth, and flexibility of knowledge by just Googling this stuff. And you and me, Renjun, I know we can do this. Not only do we know MCS, but we know the department, the people in it. It has to be us.”

He was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape. Then, his whole demeanor shifted. He dropped his leg so that both his feet were on the ground, and he resumed spinning the pen.

“Okay. I’ll help you.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If you’ll do something for me.”

“Do what?” You straightened up.

“I’ll tell you after we find Dr. Magic.”

You crossed your arms. “No, tell me now or no deal.”

“I tell you after, but you can still say no then if you don’t want to do it.” He bargained.

“That just sounds even more concerning, Renjun. Tell me now or I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m hurt. What happened to ‘it has to be us?’”

“I’m a siren, I know how to sweet talk. Don’t take it personally.” You snorted. “Now, what do you want from me?”

“You’re a siren,” he echoed plainly, as if that were all the explanation you needed.

“And you’re a genius.” You retorted. “Tell me now or I walk out.”

“I... want to experience siren venom. For science.”

Oh, you could kiss him right now, no deal necessary. He was meeting your gaze head-on, a slightly unhinged glint in his eye. Not a hint of fear, just a craving for new experiences, unbridled curiosity. Yeah, he was a bit crazy, you were realizing four years on, and you wanted him.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned back in his seat, putting his hands up in front of him in an ‘I-don’t-care’ gesture, “If you don’t want to find Dr. Magic—”

“I didn’t say no, I said you’re insane,” you corrected him with a grin, dragging your eyes up and down his form as he sat so confidently, negotiating with a siren like it was any average Tuesday for him.

“So do we have a deal?” He set his pen down and held a hand out to you.

“You help me find Dr. Magic, then I’ll spit in your mouth.” You momentarily thought about the disparity in division of labor on that, but decided not to point it out aloud. Easiest handshake of your life. “Deal.”

You wanted to eat him alive.

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[violetasteracademic]

Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow: Chapter Sixteen (Ao3 Azriel x Elain)

I cannot believe there are only four chapters left! I am a mess. If you need to catch up on the fic, you can find your chapter on the master list here. Link to the new chapter will be below!

There is not too much more to say today, other than I hope my Tumblr babes catch the note at the end of the chapter. Here is a sneak peek, our girl Elain went THRU it!!

Preview:

Azriel

It had been three days. Three days and Elain showed no signs of waking.

Azriel sat beside her bed at the river house, morning until night. He only ate or drank when Nesta or Feyre brought him food and water and demanded he take a few sips and nibbles for sustenance.

If he felt himself falling asleep, his body responded with lurching panic. Fear that Elain would slip away in the night, and he wouldn’t be there for her when it happened.

Cassian granted him a few hours of rest the previous night after he had quietly slipped into the room with a roll of blades in need of sharpening and polishing.

“Care to join me?” Cassian asked, offering him one of the blades along with a small vial of oil and a whetstone.

Azriel could only shake his head, too exhausted to even answer. He didn’t have the energy to polish a blade, though he knew his brother only intended to help him keep his mind focused on a task while they waited for Elain to wake up.

“That’s alright,” Cassian shrugged. He looked to Elain, eyes pained, then back to Azriel. “I’ll keep an eye on her if you want to close your eyes for a few minutes.”

Azriel hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but the flick of those blades gliding along the stone was like a lullaby. He clasped Elain’s hand, using his arm as a pillow on the bed and closed his eyes.

When he woke a few hours later, Cassian was still alert in his chair, eyes fixed on them and watching intently for any disturbances, Azriel’s heart clenched.

“Thank you,” he croaked.

Cassian only nodded and rolled his shoulders. “I needed to catch up on those blades, anyway.”

Azriel eyed the freshly polished blades on the roll and knew Cassian had been done with the work a long time ago, but he made no mention of it.

Cassian walked up to him and gripped his shoulder tightly. “You once told me I would know,” he tapped at his chest, “right here. I would know.” Azriel’s throat tightened unbearably. “You would know too, Az. If Elain wasn’t still with us, you would know. Give her time.”

Azriel tried to blink back the burn in his eyes, tried to hold on to his brother’s words as he looked towards Elain, so pale and still on the bed. Her neck and hands bandaged from the burns she suffered in the duel.

You can go mad or perish.

He had done this. He gave her his power without testing it first, without getting a sense of how it felt or what the limitations were. He gave and gave until Elain removed Beron’s head from his body, put on a massive display of power in front of the leaders of the courts, then hit the ground with a sickening thud that he felt rattle his very core.

Her burns were healing. Madja had said that was a good sign that whatever was happening beneath her skin was likely also making progress. Still, it wasn’t fast enough. If she woke up soon, she’d likely still experience some pain.

If Elain wasn’t still with us, you would know. Give her time.

He released a heavy breath and waited.

Please enjoy, and thank you for reading!

[languajix]

21 and 23 <3

Thank you, Belle! :D

22.) What is your favorite kind of pizza?

I like barbecue or BLT pizza. Tomato sauce is okay but if you can substitute it for other things then the pizza truly rocks. Like peanut sauce; I love a good peanut sauce pizza.

23.) What is one of your favorite TMNT fics?

Okay I'm. I can't pick "one" why is that word even there it's too difficult. So NOPE YOU GET MANY

Ghost in the Shell by Amevello Blue - I love it so much I can't even quantify, it hurts my heart and it is slowly starting to heal it but we're not quite there yet and I am so excited to get there. The journey is long but so worth it. 2k3/Rise crossover proposing "what if SAINW Donny disappeared into the Rise dimension?"

I Get Knocked Down by Justalittleobsessed, perchance you've heard of it, great angst, great character development, I love characters with secrets and I love the painful reveal and I love characters that *heal*

The New York Conspiracy Corner by blueh - a really really good social media fic set in Rise

Skin by Halogalopaghost - A 2k3 Raph who realizes how different he is from his brothers as he starts laying eggs, and the feelings involved in grappling with that reality.

Shrunkified Raph and the Aftermath by 6monthsfromnever is a 2k12 Raph fic where he gets (temporarily) de-aged and the emotions and interactions in it are so good (it's a series but I'm putting it in this list of fics because I love every fic in it)

Where in the World is Neon Leon? by 316_frogs - A Rise fic where Leo learns how to use his portals the hard way, and ends up traveling a lot and getting into a lot of Situations

I'll Be There when the Light Comes In by taizi - another series but I don't care, each one of these crossover fics brings me so much joy. They are just so warm. 2k3, 2012, Rise crossovers.

The Day The World Broke by saladmix - a really good horror story, and I say that as someone who does not like horror. Their own iteration of ninja turtles get plunged into a horror scenario, but various more familiar versions come to their rescue as they track down the source to fix their world.

On Earth 4218 by Astronomy_Nerd - a Rise/Spider-Verse crossover AU by my mutual Astro, a Shellshocked fic in a universe where Miles is the Prowler and the turtles were raised by Draxum! The worldbuilding/history is so cool and I love the Miles/Mikey dynamic and the secret identity plot.

A Tale of Two Spirits by unorthodoxx - a very long very good (on hiatus) crossover between Avatar The Last Airbender and Rise, and it's the reason I got back into the ninja turtles recently. I read it and was so intrigued by the Rise turtles' characterizations that I decided to read some more fic, and here we are.

First Encounters by Cadoodledoodleydoo - a Rise story about some of her cool OCs with some really cool art!

And One to Grow On by Zelgadis55 - a 2k3/2k12 crossover in which the Michelangelos get switched and it's sad and it's good

Second Shot by twignotstick - a really cool iteration and I can't wait to see where it goes because the story is so good and there are a lot of really interesting twists!! And it's really well written

And there's, of course, another one you might have heard of, it's called cuz there's a spark in you (no literally-) and it's by this very creative person who I appreciate a lot, it's a Rise AU where Mikey is possessed by the spirit in his kusari fundo and I can't wait to see where it goes

[chloecherrysip]

teeny, tiny mario & luigi post-movie fic snippet!

I want people to believe me that I really am working on this!! I'm just slow and busy and also this fic is going to be really long because that's just the way it goes with me!! So here is a little preview. BUT FIRST, SOME CONTEXT.

I think it's really fascinating to consider how the star power works and what exactly it can fix or not fix when used in the context of the movie universe. I really like all interpretations! My personal interpretation is that even after the invincibility wears off, it still gives the user(s) one heck of an adrenaline rush for several hours. Rest? Food? Water? Don't need it! Honestly, you don't even think about it! You feel ecstatic and on top of the world and ready to run a marathon. There's just boundless energy for whatever needs doing (which may include helping clean up a completely ravaged city block).

But at the end of the day, the star's permanent effects are not absolute. It WILL heal major injuries, but it can't erase the strain of dehydration, lack of food, lack of sleep, etc - it can only delay all that for a while with its surplus of extra energy. And when the rush finally, finally wears off for good? All of that hits HARD.

Anyway, snippet time under the cut. :)

+

+

Mario's loud, gasping breaths seemed like the only sound in the world, echoes bouncing wildly all around.

"Luigi," he finally managed to wheeze — very quiet at first, then again, much louder. As gently and carefully as he could manage, he scooted up into a sitting position and turned his brother over onto his back, cradling him. He was still out cold. Mario patted his face.

"Hey, Luigi. Wake up for me, all right? I'm here, Lu. I've gotcha." He patted a little harder, steadfastly ignoring the way his hands were shaking at that point. Every second passing with no change stretched on like an eternity and then some. "You're all right, everything's all right. Come on, Luigi, snap out of it..."

Up close, Luigi looked very pale, sweat beaded all along the line of his cap. How had Mario not noticed that before? He'd been too caught up in the rebuilding efforts, too distracted by Peach and Toad and the thought of that hypothetical house. How could he not see that Luigi was starting to struggle? What kind of brother was he?

The kind that does something really, REALLY stupid because of pride or "destiny" or whatever you wanna call it. The kind that not only drags his brother down with him to do the stupid thing, but almost gets him killed because of it. 

Mario's shoulders sagged. He gripped Luigi tighter, pressing his little brother's face close to the crook of his neck, if only to try and desperately ground himself in the knowledge that he could feel him breathing still, at least. Their injuries were gone, it was true, but for Mario, it was like the star had just shifted the pain around instead. He could feel it pressing up from under his skin, a deep well that was ready to split him open all the way through if he let it.

It no longer seemed like he'd just been in a magical world on a whirlwind adventure, or that he'd defeated a spiked turtle monster with anger issues and saved Brooklyn in a glorious, technicolor blur. Now, he was just a small, ordinary man in a dark sewer room underground, exhausted and terrified and unable to help the person he loved most.

[fawnb1te]

Soft Hands on the Embarrassing Burning

A Todd Anderson x Reader with Eczema fic by Fawnb1te . POV is first person . GN!Reader

PLZ READ !!

TW: Descriptions of dry skin , open w0unds from deep itching (small but still) , weeping skin , emotional burnout , self-lothing n moar . Please take a moment to consider these before reading . A lot of this is from personal experience but may sound disturbing to other ppl . Fluff will be ahead but these things are apart of the eczema experience n from m own perspective . Otherwise , plz enjoy n thank u for understanding <3

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.

I lay here on our sheets as he resides in the kitchen , he said he had salmon prepped for us , fresh herbs from our little garden will help to enhance its taste . Oh how our life , so simple from out of school , now with our own little cottage , with a sweet garden that blooms fresh fruit n vegetables , yet I feel that I bring such a struggle , a burden . This dryness , these moments where I don’t feel comfortable to move at all , how is he able to keep up ?

I feel a sharp prick of itchiness in my arms , my hands , a small sound of discomfort leaves my lips as I try to ignore but it’s too much , it’s always too much , out of shame I start to itch at my arms , then my hands , only stopping once I see small crevices on the inside of my wrist start to crack n weep , but the burning sensation of it makes me want to itch more so I move to my legs , itching until I break skin n I feel myself panic n writhe where I lay , rolling around n rubbing where it itches but it isn’t stopping , it hurts , but I can’t stop . Please stop , please stop I beg in my mind , making more noises until I’m making small cries , trying to be more quite so I don’t disturb Todd , I can handle this , I’ll be fine , I can handle this myself , I can —

“Hey ? Are you ok ? What’s wrong ?” Todd comes in now , worry apparent on his face as he leans on the door frame . His eyes , a pale blue that I could stare in forever , search my face , n I can feel embarrassment over take me as I scratch but more slowly , silently asking for help as I look up at him , begging even . I can’t do this myself … Todd leaves for a second , coming back with rolled up gauze n soft medical tape as well as my cream for my skin , sitting down on the bed with me n holding out his hand .

“Give it here , your hand , I’ll help you . It’s gonna be ok ! It’s just a little mishap , we’re gonna fix this ..” He says in a soft but enthusiastic tone , his hand takes mine as the other gently rubs my cheek in a soothing manner before reaching for some of the cream , pumping it from its small barrel n carefully rubbing it into my hand , trying his best to be as gentle as he could be . But I couldn’t complain , his hands were unlike mine , so soft , the tissue never ever looked dry nor felt tough , he was always quite gentle with me . I stare as he rubs some more cream onto my arm , his eyes focused but his little smile remained . “I’ll get you some pain killers after this .” He said softly , turning my arm over n getting the inside of of my elbow , seeing a small crack in the corner where it bends . His brow furrows as his thumb gently grazes the area but stopped once I make a sound of discomfort , almost immediately he rumba some cream into the area , gets a non-stick gauze pad n cuts it in half , placing one of the pieces on the crack then wrapped it up . He checks my other arm to see that it was fine , just a bit dry so he also rubs in cream there .

Throughout the whole process I can’t help but watch as he does his “healing magic” on me , his smooth movements , his words of reassurance , I can feel myself become more calm . He really is like n angel sent down to me . Oh .. Oh how am I so lucky ? “How are you feeling now .. ?” He asks , all I could do is smile n lean down to kiss his hand as he rubs mine . “I’m fine now a little bit .. I’m sorry if I worried you , it’s just .. i-it’s a lot .” I say with a voice that sounded as if it was going to break , this condition was so tiring n he knew that . But I can’t help but repeat it because it was tiring , exhausting even . It hurts , it’s uncomfortable n makes wanting to do anything hard especially if it’s flared , cracked , weeping or even bleeding . But he knew that . Even with that he’s so patient , so caring n gentle my goodness . Soon enough he gets done with wrapping my little wounds . They weren’t deep but still , to be safe , he wrapped them up planned to do it once again in a few hours . Todd would also sit me down in the living room before getting me painkillers n changing out the bedsheets , after that he served dinner ! As always it was delicious , he even prepared me lemon balm tea that tasted light but still really nice . “Thank you ..” “Of course , I know this is hard for you , but I’m glad I can help you in any way you need . I love you very much .. it hurts seeing you uncomfortable n in pain . But I’m grateful I can help you with this .” Todd would kiss my cheek n hold me close as I continue to enjoy my dinner n tea , enjoying his presence . He’d then eat his dinner alongside me , sending me a sweet smile in between chews n my goodness he’s so pretty when he smiles . Again , how am I so lucky .. ?

“When we’re done .. would you like me to get you some ice cream ? I got your favorite this time .” He said , taking his empty plate to the kitchen , excitement fills me as i follow him , a half-finished mug of tea in my hands as I stand next to him , the liquid sloshing around gently . “That’s a question ?? Todd of course , yes please , please , pleaseee !” I exclaim , setting down my mug n cling to him as he just lets out this sweet laugh that made me cling closer . “I will , I will . I’m gonna wash a few of these so we have clean bowls . N’ then ! … I’ll get you your ice cream .” With that , he gives me another little kiss n sends me back to the living room so he could finish up the dishes .

Todd would finally finish his dishes , grabbing two bowls , two spoons n the ice cream . Scooping generous amounts for the both of us . He’d sit with me n give me my bowl , sending me that same smile he gave me earlier . “Here you my dear .. Enjoy !”

Omg ??? OMG I DID IT I FINISHED IT !!! Aghhhh I hope u all enjoy it 😭😭

(Tagging @imsofansie as they requested when I was planning this fic !!! I finally finished n m so sorry for taking so long but I hope u enjoy nonetheless !)

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, Good People! I must say I spend a lot of time on Your blog. The amount of work and dedication that went into creating it is astonishing, I'm very impressed and truly grateful. If You only knew how much comfort You provide me with... ❤️

I was wondering if You knew any works in which Crowley hides an illness or injury from Aziraphale but the Angel finds out and is Not Pleased or just very, very concerned/upset about it? Could be a part of a longer story, the more to read, the better. Thank You!

Hi and thank you! Here are some fics in which Crowley hides his hurt from Aziraphale...

Fault Lines by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

During the bodyswap, Aziraphale realized that Crowley lives with chronic pain. Since then, he hasn’t broached the subject—after all, Crowley is still trying to hide it. Crowley’s sudden collapse forces the issue.

I may bear my evils alone by Cuppa_Rosie_Lee (M)

Crowley returns from a particularly violent review in Hell. Broken and battered, he just about manages to get himself back to his flat alone, but when Aziraphale calls Crowley can't hide how bad it is any more. Aziraphale immediately worries and insists on coming over to take care of him. Hurt/comfort with a calm and fluffy ending. CW: implied violence, and graphic descriptions of internal injury.

There's no healing the wound by meridian_rose (T)

Crowley gets hurt but when he can't heal the wound he doesn't do the sensible thing and tell Aziraphale. Instead he hides the truth, tries to fix it himself, and when it looks like the wound might be fatal drags Anathema into the situation. When Aziraphale does find out he's furious as only a angel at risk of losing his beloved demon can be.

Hurts Like Hell by Magical_Bucket (T)

Falling must hurt, right? How simple would it be for the pain to only last through the Fall. What If the pain lasts much longer than that? What if it lasts for over 6,000 years? This, ladies and gentlemen, is the exact thing Crowley has been trying to hide from Aziraphale. The Fall leaves Crowley with lasting pain he doesn't want anyone to know about, but how could he possibly lie to his Angel?

Lightning Strike by Marbled Wings (M)

When pain and past trauma catch up with Crowley, he retreats hoping to ride out the storm. Realising something is amiss, Aziraphale comes to the rescue only to face the uncomfortable truth of just how much Crowley has hidden from him and how much he has suffered alone.

- Mod D

[apprenticestanheight]

ok so it’s like kinda fluffy but it doesn’t have to be but. lawrence comes over to adam’s apartment while he’s smoking weed and they get high together for the first time. kinda cringe but i wanted to put it out there i think it could be good

Chainshippings first time smoking together hcs

Hi! Did it as headcanons because it just makes a bit more sense to it like that in my head, which I hope is okay!

Fic type- fluff!!

Warnings- this is an AU where adam survives the events of the first saw movie so his and lawrences trap is mentioned a couple of times, as is his shot wound and pain related to it, a couple mentions of ptsd/indications that Adam has to distract himself to keep from thinking about the trap after he's escaped it

Months after the events of their trap, Adam and Lawrence find themselves in veeeeeery different spots

Adam is still doing his thing as a photographer, but instead of doing it freelance he works for a pretty reputable news network as a photojournalist.

He also does auto repair work for a decent enough buck on the side because he's decent at it--his own car wasn't in very good shape before Jigsaw tested him, and after he survived he taught himself how to do the repairs his car needed rather than taking it to an auto shop because he needed the distraction that learning how to fix his car and then fixing it provided.

He's got PTSD and his shoulder is in pretty consistent pain in the aftermath of the surgery they did to get the bullet out, but by all accounts he's mostly okay.

He gets himself into therapy at the insistence of a coworker and because he knows it'll do him even just a tad bit of good, and whenever it gets too much he smokes to relax.

Lawrence, however, is in a different spot. He and Allison are divorced, he's living in the home he thought he'd raise his kids and grow old in by himself, and he's still trying to get used to using a prosthetic foot and readjusting to work in that process.

Lawrence doesn't really give himself that kind of an outlet--he hardly has the time, working double and triple shifts, going to physical therapy and debating seeing a therapist to help him heal the damage done to his mind in the aftermath of his escape.

His outlet is busying himself so that he doesn't have to think, overworking himself to the point of exhaustion so that he doesn't go and see Adam and apologize for shooting him and leaving him to die.

BUT THEN, the two see each other while Adam is out and about, taking a photo he needs of some trashy festival for a puff piece while Lawrence is headed to a physical therapy appointment.

Adam just sees him and goes "Lawrence! Hi! How've you been?"

Thirty minutes go by and Lawrence has to speed walk to his appointment to make sure he's not late, he has to find someone to cover his shift at the hospital, and Adam has invited him to his new place so that the two can get high and watch the constellations.

The funny part? They're two complete opposites--in the time that Lawrence is all "what should I wear?? WHAT DOES ONE WEAR WHEN ONE SMOKES WEED?"

Adam is just like "Black cargo pants and a white t-shirt seems good enough," and then he goes and gets the joints ready and opens the window so that they can sit on the steps of his fire escape.

In the end, Lawrence decides to keep it as cool as an uptight-seeming oncologist can manage--a pair of well-loved adidas joggers that he's owned for roughly a decade and a hoodie from the days of his internship at the hospital.

He buys a couple of snacks from a local supermarket in case either of them get hungry and shows up at the exact time Adam recommended he come around--just in time for the sunset, so that they'll be able to go outside and sit on the fire escape to smoke, with the high kicking in as the sunset gives way to a dark sky full of stars.

Adam opens the door and grins, invites Lawrence in and approaches the coffee table, where a tray with four joints on it waits. Adam picks it up and turns back to Lawrence.

"Nice place," Lawrence says, hating the small talk but not knowing how, exactly, to get past it. "Are you still freelance?"

"I've been working as a photojournalist for three months now, and I do a bit of auto repair on the side. The stable paycheck is nice, I will admit, and this spot is a definite upgrade," Adam says, gesturing at the bag of snacks Lawrence holds in one hand. "C'mon--we'll smoke on the fire escape and then eat those when the munchies kick in."

Lawrence follows Adams lead and the two sit on the fire escape.

Lawrence watches Adam light one of the joints as he sets the tray he'd taken from the coffee table in front of them, almost entranced as he watches Adam take a puff before passing the joint Lawrences way

Lawrences first puff goes...about as well as it can for someone who's never smoked before??

He breathes the wrong way and ends up coughing instead of exhaling the smoke, and Adam ends up laughing as he claps Lawrences back.

"Inhale the smoke, give it a second, exhale," Adam says. "I'm sorry for laughing, it's just--I thought doctors tended to unwind with this stuff. Working a job like that and I would've jumped the gun from weed to xanax."

Lawrence gives an ungraceful laugh as he passes the joint back to Adam, watches him take a puff of it and when he takes the joint again, he takes a puff correctly.

Adam hollers, claps Lawrence on the back, and something unspoken passes between the two of them--it's like the time during which they were apart kind of...ceases to exist?

It's not as though they're back in the bathroom--both of them shudder at the thought, and while Adam never actually shows that side of him to anyone, every time a new Jigsaw victim is discovered he flinches where Lawrence just kind of sighs and hopes he doesn't get tested a second time for something as miniscule as what he hears one of the victims got tested for--smoking, drinking, anything that seems insignificant enough for him not to notice it

BUT the dynamic they had in the bathroom kind of returns? Adam is quipping and Lawrence is responding in kin--the only difference is that there's a lot more laughter and no edge of fear because of Jigsaws tape

Lawrence doesn't necessarily seem like very much of a lightweight to me so he's probably feeling it a joint and a half in, where Adam has been smoking since he was in high school so getting high probably takes him two joints?? three??

But he has a good laugh and pokes fun at Lawrence for being a lightweight as Lawrence breaks into the chips he'd brought.

Adam ends up smoking the last joint on the tray because he figures it'll help him sleep later, and the two of them watch the constellations while high out of their minds

They also clear out the snacks Lawrence bought and talk about anything and everything

Lawrence learns that Adams favorite subject to photograph is all of it--Adam grabs his camera that he uses for non-work related photography and shows it to Lawrence, and to Lawrences surprise there's a ton of variety.

There are photos of the world in motion--people walking down a crosswalk all blurry, the view of cars going down the highway during sunset, photos of stray cats laying on the ground or approaching Adam in search of affection.

There are photos of lakes and boats and cute dogs that Adam happened upon. There's a lot of variety to it and it's a variety that Lawrence didn't expect but appreciates

Lawrence eventually opens up about his life too--the divorce, work, the physical therapy.

He apologizes for shooting Adam after the guilt had been weighing down on him for months, and Adam accepts the apology by saying he probably would've done the same thing if their roles were reversed, but that the help he called eventually did show up and he was okay.

He made a point of not mentioning the shoulder pain so as to avoid causing Lawrence further upset, joked that he hadn't expected Lawrence to show up looking so casual but that it was a nice look on him and appropriate smoking attire

At some point, Adam realises that it's not feasible to let Lawrence go home as high as he is so the two of them just kind of...sit on the fire escape? Adam goes back into his apartment briefly to grab a couple of blankets and they fall asleep there, sharing a blanket with their backs to his window, their eyes on the sky

generally, they talk a lot and about stuff as mundane as the weather or stuff as deep as philosophy.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hello! I ABSOLUTELY LOVE your recent Peaky Blinders fic where Tommy and Lizzie adopt a teenager. You have such an amazing talent for capturing these characters!! If you are taking requests (if not, just ignore this), I would love to read more fics with this character! You are AMAZING, and thank you for sharing your talent with us!!! :)

Dear Anon,

This is a bit ridiculous but I kinda love the drama. Hope it makes you laugh. The next chapter will be a dinner party with Alfie and have some more Tommy & Lizzie healing because I can't help it. Thank you for writing in with kind words! I'm so happy you enjoy my work and I hope you enjoy this story too!

Warnings: Suspected pregnancy, periods, high emotions - Peaky Blinders does contain themes not suitable for folks under 18. Please protect yourself and be cautious of the content you consume.

Tommy had grounded you for the rest of the week-long vacation, which was a blessing in more ways than one. Events were pilled up this weekend and you were happier than ever to have a reason to stay in. 

Did it have something to do with Noah sneaking in most nights to sit with you and talk? Perhaps. Did your stomach burn with guilt every time he left as your parents came home screaming? Most certainly. 

No matter how much you adored Noah, you knew there was a thick divide being placed between you and your parents. A choice was resting on your shoulders and it was more pain than you could sort out on your own. 

You sat there commiserating at the table buttering a piece of toast as Lizzie entered the room. She sat in the chair across from you and lit a cigarette. In all the time you’d been here you’d never seen her look so miserable. Like her mind was a haunted house, playing cruel jokes on her while the oblivious world passed her by. She was fighting something, and the pain radiated into your bones much like the October winds. 

She and Tommy had been fighting on and off all weekend since the incident at the fair. Noah had offered countless ways to fix it, but somehow you knew that none of them would scratch the surface. You didn't really understand what had made him so angry at you or Lizzie. 

Your stomach dropped at the thought of him being unable to forgive you. Suddenly you needed to be back in the safety of your room immediately. 

“I’m going back to bed.” You said weakly. You scurried out of the room before she could respond. You got under the covers of your bed and rolled on your side wishing the anxiety would wash off. Intrusive thoughts of the harsh reality you would face outside the comfort of the life Tommy had given you started to eat away at your mind. How would you make it out there on your own? 

You spent most of the morning like this, eventually, you had to move to the bathroom floor as you  lost the contents of the small breakfast you’d consumed. 

Why this was all hitting you like a train became evident around 10:30. You got your period and decided that’s where the overwhelming feelings were coming from. 

The issues were very real though. You got yourself cleaned up and changed into your PJs, you doubted your presence would be missed. You lit the fireplace in your bedroom and climbed under the heavy quilts. Rest seemed to be the only rational thing to do. 

_______________________________

“Why did you say it then? You always do this! You're going to drag us all right back down to Watery Lane. Is that what you want Thomas?” 

“It’s not like I have a fucking choice in the matter, eh?! You think I want this for our family?!” 

“You -” 

There was a knock at the door and they both straightened up assuming it was you. Esme poked her head in the door of the kitchen taking in the scene. Broken plate on the floor, Lizzie’s makeup a mess, and Thomas looked like he’d just come back from another war. 

“Sorry to interrupt. Just came by to check on her” 

“She’s upstairs -” Tommy started before Lizzie cut him off. 

“Can you bring her something to eat, she must be starving by now.” Whatever they were working through Esme hoped that it would end soon, this was the worst she’d ever seen Lizzie. 

“Poor Lamb. Must be heartache. Couldn't manage breakfast that past few mornings I was by-” Esme froze on the spot realizing that this was probably not the best time or place to play connect the dots. 

Sick in the morning, not eating, flushed face, puffy. Fuck. 

She grabbed some sandwiches and a plate before hurrying into the hallway. She called Polly over before going into your room. 

She took in the warm temperature and saw you curled in on your side. 

“I brought you a sandwich.” 

“Thank you.” You said quietly, with no trace of your usual sunny nature. 

“Now enough of this storm cloud. Tell your Aunty what's wrong.” She sat on the floor near your head and kicked off her boots to warm her feet. 

“Will you and John adopt me if I agree to babysit?” 

“Don’t think they’d let you go, but I’d do just about anything for a built-in babysitter.” She joked before realizing you were serious. “Love, why on earth would I need to adopt you.” 

“They keep fighting and I know it's all my fault - I don’t know what to do about everything - I-” 

Esme looked at you as you burst into tears, her worst fears seeming more likely. 

“Hey it won’t be so bad once the shock wears off, I’m sure he’d marry you. I had my first babe when I was only a few years older than you, it’s not so scary?” 

“Woah - no” You shook your head frantically. “That involves - and I haven't - just no to all of it.” 

“Oh.” Well, what could have her bent out of shape? Esme thought as she ran her hand through her hair. 

“I’m losing both of them - It’s my fault what happened at the fair. He’s so angry with me. But I don't even know what I did wrong. Lizzie looks - God - It’s all my fault.” 

“No, love. It’s not like that at all.” She started to explain the recent business troubles when Tommy opened the door looking whiter than a sheet. 

________________________________________________

He was so tired of arguing. The more she got worked up the more he realized he could never make her happy. Old rivals showing up was hardly a part of his plan. She looked so worn out, all by his doing of course. 

Then there’s Noah sneaking in every night they're gone. 

All of it was too much, and yet he was very aware that there was something else Lizzie wasn't telling him. 

Another knock on the door caused them to sober up. 

“Is she alright?!” Polly said taking in the state of the two of them, looking worse for wear. Panic welled up inside her at the state you must be in.  

“What do you mean?” Lizzie asked. 

“Esme called saying she might be with child- where is she?! Polly stated urgently wanted to get to you immediately. 

He felt his blood pressure drop, and his limbs went cold despite moving faster than ever to find you. He heard Lizzie burst into tears and Polly shouting, neither of them came even close to priority. 

Opening your bedroom door you were balled up on your side and Esme was comforting you. 

“Out.” He said as calmly as possible. “Now.” Thankfully Esme didn’t argue, stepping past him out into the hallway. He shut the door and pushed down every bit of anger inside him.

“Dad, please! Don’t throw me out I’m sorry for what happened at the fair. I - I’m sorry.” You were crying too hard to speak as his arms came around you tightly. He didn't know what to do, he was overcome with the emotion that he’d failed as a parent as you looked terrified of him. 

After a few moments, you calmed down enough to speak. 

“You and Mum are always fighting now. I know it's because of me. Esme said she’ll take me if it's too upsetting for you.” 

“You’ve never upset me.” He said absently, trying to understand everything. 

“Well, then just tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can fucking fix it.” You snapped angrily. He was tempted to put you in your place, but then he watched your face twist into regret. 

“Sorry I’m on my period” you let out a frustrated sigh. “the two of you don't make any sense to me. I just need to know why your mad so I can fix it.” you started to cry again and he started laughing. 

“You think this is funny?!” You growled, but the relief he felt from your words was untouchable. 

“Sorry, love.” But he kept laughing again, pulling you close. He made the careful decision to shield you from his side of the situation. “Business is bad right now. Like how it used to be, Your mother’s mad, my hands are tied.” He sighed, relaxing in the warm space. “Her and I have our own problems to revisit right now.”

“So none of this has to do with me.” 

“No. However, if I catch that boy climbing in through that window again I’ll kill him.” He felt the fear run through your body, and he remembered how scared he’d made you. “If Noah wants to come over he can use the front door.” 

“Really!?” 

“To stay in the living room, or the sitting room, or the kitchen.” 

“What about the library?” 

“Only if I’m there.” He said sternly thinking of all the dark corners. 

“Can Alfie come?” You pushed. 

“No.” He said with more emotion than he intended. 

“Please, just for dinner?” 

“Fine. One dinner. Once things get sorted out yeah?”

“Can I help? I could try and -”’ 

“No. I need you to just stay a kid as long as possible, alright?” He looked at you for a long moment before you understood what he was saying. 

“That won’t be difficult.” You nodded. He prayed that you were right. 

“Now your mother’s probably needing a hug right about now.” He gave you one last squeeze and then you grabbed your house coat before following him downstairs. 

Lizzie was an absolute mess. Esme took Polly out of the study and you sat next to her giving her a hug. She held onto you tighter than ever.

“Hey, dad said he’ll figure everything out.” You comforted. “I’m sure Alfie and Noah would help too.” 

“He really loves you, ya know?” She sobered up a bit and you decided that must be the problem. “All I ever hear about is “Be more like your mother.” Never Grace, or Polly. Always you. I thought you were both mad about the fair, I didn't realize so much other stuff was going on.” 

“I’m pregnant.” She said in a hazy tone. 

“Whoah.” you were at a loss of words. Your initial reaction was to cry in joy before you realized this was the final layer of fog clouding the arguments between her and Tommy. She wasn't worried about business, or Noah, she was worried about what happened to Ruby. 

“Yeah.” She said solemnly. “I don't know if I -” 

“You can. Don’t even think for a second you can’t. I’ll be here to help, we all will be. It won’t be like last time.” She gave you a nod. “You should tell dad.” 

She nodded at you again. You kissed her cheek before getting up and leaving the room. You ran to the kitchen and pulled him into the hallway. 

“She’s pregnant. She is scared about business because she wants to know if things will be stable. She’s afraid of what happened last time.” You explained to him. “She’s also a mess of chemicals and hormones so just, she’s a bit, ya know.”  

He just stood there looking at you. “Just go easy on her, act surprised, don't tell her I told you.” 

“She said all that?” 

“Well no, but I can tell.” 

He let out a long sigh. “Go sit with Polly.” 

_______________________________________________

This time he didn’t wait for her to speak, he just sat close to her grabbing her hand.

“I’m pregnant.” She whispered. “Not her.” 

“I thought I was going to die.” he said honestly, enjoying the way her mouth turned up. “The whole time she thought I was angry about Noah. When Polly said that she was pregnant I swear my whole life flashed before me.” 

“Is that so? And what about now.” 

“Well, I’ll sort this thing out with the Italians over the next couple of weeks. Nothing will change around here, business is still 100% clean. Just have to clean up this mess before it festers. But I know she’ll be all over you to help. Might take her away from all that time spent pining. All in all, I just want you to know that I’m happy. Everything else will fall into place. No need to worry about anything, I’ll handle it.” He said quickly. 

“She tell you to say all that in the hallway?” His first instinct was to be defensive but the flicker of amusement in her eyes was enough for him to swallow his pride.

“It’s true so does it matter?” He said hoping she knew deep down that he would always look after her. 

“No. S’long as it’s true.” She kissed him and he felt more at peace than he had in weeks. Leaning into her embrace he forced himself to settle down. “I’m scared Thomas.” The look on her face broke him. 

“I’ll always keep you safe. I fucked up in the past. Please trust that I’ll do right by you this time.” 

She responded by kissing him again, this time it was even harder to push her off. 

“Got people in the other room, love.” He said holding her tightly. “We should go make sure she’s alright. Been through a lot today.” He ran his hand over her stomach. 

“All of us have been through a lot today.” She agreed. He was amazed at how she seemed to carry all that stress and still look so beautiful. 

They entered the kitchen and relaxed. Hearing you laugh made his heart swell, and Lizzie was finally engaging with the world again. His girls were happy, so he could be happy. 

The phone rang interrupting one of her stories and he groaned as she flew out of the kitchen to grab it. 

“That bloody boy.” He scolded as everyone laughed. 

_____________________________________

Coming up next: Alfie might need to help with the Italians, and Tommy did agree to a dinner party that may be even more drama-filled than this. 

This might be the most dramatic thing I’ve written, felt a bit more like a bad sitcom, but hopefully, it makes you laugh!