#oh yeah and the perpetual tiredness

[lyriumsings]

fever finally broke from 101 to 99 praying tomorrow i can finally enjoy not being buried under school work

[bingoboingobongo]

task force 141 + cuddling

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: idk if this counts as a holiday hc but idc i wanted to write this. pretend they're wearing christmas pj's idk.

simon "ghost" riley:

alright so when you really get down to it ghost's just a scared guy

i mean not scared in the traditional sense ig but he's pretty paranoid (not that i blame him)

he's definitely the kind of guy that feels pretty vulnerable when he's asleep and because of that (and nightmares) he's never really been a deep sleeper

like he can fall asleep whenever because he's sorta in a state of perpetual tiredness but it's always a super light sleep and he'll wake up at the slightest disturbance (hence the state of perpetual tiredness)

this all culminates into a very specific mindset ghost has when he's sleeping with you

ghost is absolutely petrified of anything happening to you, especially since he can't protect you when he's sleeping, so he's definitely a fan of spooning (with him as the bigger spoon ofc) bc it makes him feel like he's shielding you from harm

he also likes having you so close to him bc one you're nice and warm and two it lets him know your safe

and honestly it's less spooning and more just him trying to cover your entire body with his body

like he will go full on blanket mode

if he could he would just box you in under him and the only reason he doesn't is because he knows he would end up crushing you

he'll hold you really tightly too

like almost squeezing you

and you always think he'll eventually loosen up a little when he falls asleep but he never does

this has two purposes

first is that it keeps you close

and second is that it stops you from moving around excessively

the second one is important especially if you're a chaotic sleeper because he always gets woken up when you move

also he likes having you face him when he sleep so it's sorta like you guys are hugging but sometimes that can get uncomfortable with all the limbs involved

oh yeah he definitely wraps/throws his legs around you in another effort to keep you pinned down

also hot take but he doesn't like being the little spoon

it's too stressful for him because even though he feels protected he feels like you're vulnerable and that's worse

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so starting off soap is a great cuddler

but then as the night progresses... not so much

ik everyone's been saying this but it's because it's the truth

soap is a spreader

no matter what position he starts off in soap will always find a way to spread out

for some reason he also has a tendency to flip over in his sleep a lot

like it always starts out with the him on his back with your head laying on his chest as he rubs circles on your arm and tells you stories about his childhood

and around halfway through the night he might turn over and hug you while he sleeps for a bit

with his arms wrapped around you and your face buried into his chest

but then by the morning

soap is starfished on his belly

one arm is haphazardly thrown across your back/front (depending on how you're sleeping) with one of his legs tangled into yours

lord knows he's drooling too but honestly same

also soap's definitely a blanket stealer but for no reason

like in the middle of the night you'll be waging a war with him for the blanket

just for him to kick it off the bed by morning time

you've tried getting another blanket but it didn't work and he just stole that one too

you're still trying to come up with a better solution

soap also sleeps like but is also weirdly conscious

idk how to phrase it but like it will take everything to wake him up

but also if you even try to sneak the blanket away from him he will know and you will not be able too

also he definitely snores when he sleeps on his stomach sorry

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

ugh rudy my love my precious my darling

rudy lives for cuddles

but he likes to be the cuddled instead of the cuddler

rudy is always down to be the little spoon but honestly that's not really his favorite position

(he almost always has bruises on his side from training so it can be uncomfortable)

instead he likes resting his head on your chest while you sleep

he'll be like half laying on his stomach half laying on you

and he'll tangle his legs into yours and wrap his arm around your stomach

and good god this man will literally spontaneously combust if you play with his hair

pet it, braid it, scratch it

do whatever you want to it he will eat it up

easily the fastest way to get him asleep

he also really loves listening to your heartbeat and syncing his breaths up with yours

it's always so satisfying to hear your heartbeat slow down when you fall asleep

also rudy has like five different blankets on his bed because he's a really cold sleeper

although with you he usually only needs one or maybe two because you're so warm

he's also a surprisingly pretty sleeper

you've been meaning to take a picture but you always forget because for some reason he just has a way of making you sleepy when he lays down on you

he's also a pretty deep sleeper but even then you try not to move because he always looks so happy

sometimes he'll sleep in the crook of your shoulder and then you can turn to face him sometimes

kyle "gaz" garrick:

kyle likes it when you cling onto his side with your arms and legs wrapped around him

he calls you a koala but he will also die if you stop

he just loves seeing you bury your face into his arm

especially with your legs wrapped around his waist

dang he eats it up

sometimes he'll turn to face you so you can cling onto his front

but he is a back sleeper at his core so it works out

he likes to wrap his arms around you and rub circles on your back or play with your hair

and also the smell of your shampoo has pretty much conditioned him to get tired

like there's nothing more relaxing to him than being able to breathe in the scent of your shampoo at night

definitely also whispers random things to you at night

sometimes it's romantic sometimes it's just him going down random tangents until he tires himself out

but it's his favorite part of the day because he gets to have you with him and explore weird thought experiments

sometimes you'll respond but you usually fall asleep pretty quickly he notices

and he definitely has a picture of you wrapped around him as you slept

it's his lock screen on his phone and it always makes him happy

gaz is like a medium deep sleeper

he also somehow stays really still when he sleeps

like he'll go to bed and wake up in the same position

also he always has to keep like one leg out of the blanket or else he gets too hot

john price:

price likes it when you sleep on top of him

like on top on top of him

he wants you to be his personal blanket

he'll cuddle with you this way anywhere too

on the sofa, on the bed, on the floor (?)

(maybe if there's a soft rug or smthing)

he likes to wrap his arms around you and feel you sorta melt into him as you relax

i mentioned smthing in a previous hc about price wanting a weighted heated blanket for christmas

but let's be real

you are the weighted heated blanket

it just makes him feel really secure and protected

and he's holding onto you so he feels like you're safe and protected too

sometimes he wraps a leg around yours too

and yes price is a snorer what can i say

he'll insist he doesn't snore and then let out the most god awful noise you've ever heard

honestly the price girlies are the true heroes for putting up with that

respect.

(i am a price girly too)

alejandro vargas:

alejandro likes the intimacy of cuddling so that's very important

he also likes being the cuddler but he's always down to be the cuddled

he's a fan of the classics like spooning

but usually he prefers a position that's more equal

that's why alejandro loves to fall asleep hugging you with both of you on your sides

maybe your face is buried into his chest and his hand is wrapped around the back of your head

he just likes holding you close to him can you blame him

he definitely plays with your hair too as you sleep

and he loves whispering sweet nothings into your hair as you fall asleep

he's also very physical so he likes to be touching you at all times

generally just a very sweet and considerate lover and cuddler

also he used to be a chronic insomniac before he met you

but feeling how warm you are and hearing you breathe just manages to relax him

so with you he's able to sleep deeply

[hekateinhell]

7 and/or 18 💖

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

answered here!

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

This was one of the ones I was scared to get lol but I'll try! Don't get me wrong, flattery gets you everywhere with me but actually picking out something that *I* like from my own fics? Can't think of a thing tbh, so I went with the scene that's been the hardest one for me to write so far - just because the content is pretty heavy (for me), and it took a few changes and rewrites to get to where I was satisfied with it as a plot device.

(Our House, Chapter 3 spoilers)

Armand and a girl; maybe seventeen, eighteen years old. Beautiful, high Slavic cheekbones, smudged eyeliner accenting her light blue eyes, dark hair. Armand halfway behind her, his hands cupping her bare tits, fake vampire fangs in his mouth, his head turned slightly to mimic biting her throat.

"Eleni," Armand said.

And Lestat, he's there too. He's taking the selfie, pupils blown wide, his cheek pressed to the girl's head, blond hair everywhere, an arm going around her head to rest his hand on Armand's shoulder. Not inherently sexual, more familial than anything, the three of them laughing; a teen's photo for fun and mild shock value.

[So this was where I had to decide how exactly I wanted Armand to present the history of his relationships with his ex-girlfriend and Lestat to Daniel. We get a bit more from Armand's POV later, but it doesn't really expand beyond what we're shown here. This is what's relevant to Armand right now, and this is what he wants Daniel to know. The rest will come later (when I decide what the hell "the rest" is). One of the best writing tips a friend gave me is: even if you're writing from just one person's POV, you need to know what the other people in the scene are thinking.]

Armand passed the phone to him wordlessly, mentally checking out. Daniel could see it in the dimness of his eyes, in the tiredness of his shoulders. Emotional or chemical—something drug-induced? Daniel had no way of knowing.

[Concerned Husband Danny is my fave, this was one of his times to shine. I wanted to make sure he's hyperaware of Armand right now, not taking his eyes off him for a second.]

"Just like Paris."

"She's pregnant here," Armand reached up and tapped the screen. And, dear God, was that a great distraction or what?

[Oh shit! moment, hopefully for the reader and Daniel both.]

"Really?" Yours? went unsaid. Armand heard it anyway.

He nodded, barely. "We were so young... Just reckless, stupid street kids that had no way of knowing better. But I loved her, and she loved me."

[It was important to me that it's clear Eleni was a meaningful and formative romantic relationship in Armand's life, even though he's older and married to a man now. He's bisexual, and Eleni was truly his first love.]

"Is she still in France?" Daniel asked, perpetually curious to a fault. It was the reporter in him. He was an intelligent man, he'd already figured out the loaded implications behind a child Armand never mentioned to him before. Abortion, most likely, given how young they both looked.

"Eleni?" Armand arched an eyebrow, as if they'd been talking about anyone else.

Daniel nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, she is," Armand smiled in the empty way some people have a tendency to do, "Cimetière des Innocents.”

[My baby boy is broken inside, and I needed y'all to know that. Also, Les Innocents name-drop!]

Damn. "I'm sorry, love." It seemed to Daniel he was saying that a lot lately.

[By this point, it's already been a couple months of drama, and Daniel's gotten one bombshell aside from this one dropped on his head tonight. He's a saint of a man, but every person has a limit before they start burning out and idk if y'all noticed... but Armand in this fic... he's a lot, okay?]

Armand sighed, "Do you know what she said?"

Rhetorical question, and he continued, "She said it was a miracle, that it was God himself giving us a second chance. Telling us to clean up our act, get clean, find other ways to survive, to provide. And I believed it too."

[This part was weird for me because I was trying to tap into what a girl who'd been raised with a Catholic mentality might think. I never said Catholic, but clearly, she was religious to quite a degree and my mind went to Catholic. Kind of trying to channel the CoD fervor into something else here, and also pull stuff from my own life experiences.]

He sighed again, "We were just kids." Armand looked and sounded a lot like a kid just then.

He took a minute to lean against Daniel's arm, playing with the zipper on Daniel's hoodie. Up and down, up and down. Zip, zip, zip. "Well, I guess God changed his mind."

[I feel like Armand is such a classic C-PTSD case in almost every universe I write him. I mean- he is in canon! And reverting to child-like comforting behaviors when confronted with a stressor/trigger can sometimes be part of that, so I tried to have it come out here - as well as emphasize the fact that he feels secure enough around Daniel to act that way in front of him in the first place, instead of retreating into himself and/or masking.]

Daniel gently massaged the spot below Armand's ear, silently urging him to continue.

"The week she was supposed to give birth; it was June, it was so hot already. She went to see her father. She said she wanted him to know, the man who had abandoned his daughter to chase the drink. Oh, he was furious. The neighbors heard him screaming—calling her a whore, a sinner, a useless junkie."

[This one was hard, and unfortunately, it's a common enough scenario in real life. Some children just are unwanted and unloved, and they're treated that way. Definitely hurt to write.]

Armand paused for a breath, letting his head loll against Daniel's shoulder, pressed his face against Daniel's neck as if he wanted to feel his pulse against his skin. "He pushed her down a flight of cement stairs. She hit her head, Danny."

[Originally, I was going to have Eleni die by suicide after having a miscarriage, but just seemed much more potentially triggering to an audience since miscarriages are something many people do experience (though I definitely do tag). Ultimately, I just didn't think it was necessary to go that route to achieve a similar impact. As a writer, this one almost hurts me more because the difference is that in this version, she was excited for her baby and her future with Armand, their little family. She wanted to live!]

Daniel wrapped an arm around Armand's chest and pulled him close, tight enough to hurt. Not lovingly, to comfort, but with the instinctual urge to get him out of harm's way, too many years too late.

And now Daniel knew, or at least he thought did—the reason, or a reason, why. 

A reason Armand had taken such a keen, uncharacteristic interest in the preparations for Lestat and Louis's daughter.

A reason why "introducing" Armand and Lestat had had an outcome akin to throwing a jungle cat and a rabid dog together in a cardboard box. 

A reason behind Lestat and Armand playing Russian roulette now, as Daniel understood it. Using the needle to simultaneously reconjure and numb the memories of who they’d been once upon a time—Lestat, without expectations and responsibilities, wild and free; Armand, about to have a family for the first time in his tragic life, in the worst circumstances possible. 

And, finally, the reason Armand seemingly lost his mind and started begging him for a baby one arbitrary evening in June, out of the clear blue fucking sky.

[Listen... this fic was originally going to be a fluffy, mildly hurt/comfort two chapters. Suddenly, I had to come up with a decent enough reason for Armand to be going off the rails. This is what my brain gave me.]

Armand sat up and reached for the phone in Daniel’s hand, swiping to the left and handing it back to him.

"My only blood family," Armand murmured, touching a blurry ultrasound image on the screen that didn't especially look like anything at all. "A little girl," he smiled, sweet and subdued, the glow remerging only to fade from his eyes, confirming what he knew Daniel had already deduced, “who died along with her mother.”

[Can't lie, this is the one and only time I have ever cried over anything I wrote. I imagined what the baby looked like, if Armand ever got to see her or hold her. I named her. I'm so sad lmao I'm so sorry to end on this note. But this was actually interesting to remember, and I miss this fic in a way I haven't in a while, so thanks for the opportunity to ramble about myself I guess!]

[goddessofroyalty]

how would things go for jayce and viktor once they've had a baby, do you think?

So there are two facts I have just accepted will be them with the kid that I think captures it pretty well:

1- For the first month at least probably three months EVERY nighttime feed or just wake up generally apparently needs both of them. They both keep telling the other to go back to bed. They both only go back to bed once the baby is settled (and many nights they just give up and instead start tinkering with something a room over).

2- Once the baby is old enough to start eating solids there are days when the only food everyone in the family consumes has come out of packaging with the label 'Baby Food' on it (remember coffee does not actually count as food). (I mean this in terms of they only eat when the baby is eating and sometimes it's a bit... "one spoonful for baby, one spoonful for me" or "well [the baby] doesn't want anymore I might as well finish it off" or even just "well I'm hungry and this tin of baby custard is within grabbing distance so I guess that's lunch")

Because they are trying to not even pause in their actual work either. So they are balancing the baby stuff with their work stuff. And while, yes, they are sharing baby responsibility between the both of them better than probably a fair few couples do it doesn't change the fact they both already had a pretty full plate and they are not moving anything off it if they can help it.

They also both already way too good at ignoring/pushing through their tiredness and exhaustion to get their work done so it's too easy for them to switch that mentality over to looking after their kid (and I do feel like while they don't think of their kid as a 'project' they are do have that joint-project mentality clear in how they handle a lot of baby things). And the thing is because they are so used to that level of sleep deprivation generally, other people don't notice because they have learnt how to mask it/people just assume perpetually exhausted is their normal.

They do find a rhythm and it gets better once the kid gets a bit more independent (although there is probably just a baby-proofed section of the lab).

Also like the baby furniture market (especially in safety things) progresses in leaps and bounds because they keep designing stuff to make their own lives easier and then be like "oh yeah other people might want this as well".

[bloody-bee-tea]

Shimmering

Jiang Cheng hates to admit it, but he’s nervous. There’s no real reason for it, because the people in his department are nice enough, but he can’t help himself.

Going out for them with a drink is different than working together with them after all.

He guesses the only good thing about this is that Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue will be there as well and he knows them a little bit better already after all.

Both Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang have been incredibly nice to Jiang Cheng, helping him settle in after he decided to leave his father’s company—and therefor the family—and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know where he would be right now if it weren’t for them.

He knows Nie Huaisang a little bit better than Nie Mingjue, having somehow hit it off with Nie Huaisang but he knows enough about Nie Mingjue to know that he is everything his employees praise him about and then some.

Jiang Cheng guesses going for a drink with them will not be so bad.

He decides to be the designated driver for the evening though, because he doesn’t trust himself and his competitive streak when it comes to alcohol one bit and he doesn’t actually want to make a bad impression on any of his co-workers.

He shouldn’t have worried about that, though, he realizes somewhere around the three hour mark.

This evening is fun and even though Jiang Cheng isn’t drinking the good mood of the others is contagious and soon enough he’s pretty sure that you couldn’t tell the difference between the drunk ones and him.

It does help that Nie Mingjue keeps by his side all evening, Jiang Cheng has to admit that.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Jiang Cheng says at one point, leaning over a bit so he can at least pretend that it’s a private conversation.

“I’m not, though,” Nie Mingjue gives back with a smile and Jiang Cheng notices with a start that he has laughter lines around his eyes.

He never noticed that before.

“Really, now?” Jiang Cheng asks, the disbelieve clear in his voice and Nie Mingjue smiles even more, adding the dimples to the laughter lines.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. You seemed tense when we first went out,” he tells him with a shrug and Jiang Cheng has to duck his head to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“I’m alright,” he lowly tells Nie Mingjue who nods and then puts a hand to Jiang Cheng’s back.

“Yes, you are,” he gives back and then turns back to the table at large.

It takes Jiang Cheng a little bit longer to fully get back into the swing but when he does Nie Mingjue raises his glass at him and Jiang Cheng clinks their glasses together.

Nie Mingjue is smiling a lot this evening and Jiang Cheng can’t seem to take his eyes off him.

He had always known that Nie Mingjue is a very attractive man—only a blind person wouldn’t see that with one look—but now it’s the little things he keeps noticing about him. Like the laughter lines. Or the dimples. Or the way he slightly cocks his head when he listens to someone and the way he tries to give all of them the same attention.

Over the course of the evening Jiang Cheng also realizes that Nie Mingjue’s teeth are very straight and very white and from that point on it’s nearly impossible to take his eyes off Nie Mingjue.

It takes Jiang Cheng a little while longer to realize that beneath the perpetual tan Nie Mingjue seems to sport there are freckles to be found.

They are dusted all across his cheeks and nose and Jiang Cheng has to fight the urge to do something stupid.

He has never seen a man this attractive and he doesn’t even know where it’s coming from because he wasn’t that smitten with Nie Mingjue when he first met him. Or just four hours ago.

But Nie Mingjue keeps smiling at him, keeps including Jiang Cheng into the group even though for once in his life Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel like he’s struggling in a group at all, and it all does nothing but start a low simmering heat in his stomach.

Jiang Cheng tries to stick more to Nie Huaisang after that, because he can’t be fucking this up, can’t give in to something that’s probably unrequited and could potentially fuck up his job but even then it’s still a lot of fun.

They are out until the very early morning hours and Jiang Cheng feels drunk on happiness and the company.

It was a great evening.

He’s still whistling under his breath, walking towards the car, the people he’s supposed to drive home already a little ahead of him, the shimmering moonlight the only light to guide his way right now, when suddenly Nie Mingjue calls out for him.

“Hey, Wanyin, wait,” he says, and he tries to sprint up to Jiang Cheng though the alcohol in his system clearly makes it a little bit difficult.

“Mingjue, careful,” Jiang Cheng says, reaching out to steady Nie Mingjue when he comes to a stop in front of him.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Nie Mingjue asks and he looks so earnestly concerned at Jiang Cheng that he can’t help but to smile.

It prompts Nie Mingjue to smile as well and Jiang Cheng is yet again struck by how incredibly beautiful he is. It doesn’t help at all that he’s also a genuinely nice person and Jiang Cheng enjoys his company.

“I’m very sure. I didn’t drink, remember.”

“Yeah, but it’s late and you must be tired.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng says, though he can feel the tiredness creep in now that they all broke up and he doesn’t have the energy of the group to keep him awake anymore.

“Are you sure?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly still concerned. “Can you text me when you’re home? I just want to make sure you got there safely.”

“Of course I can,” Jiang Cheng says and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm. “I’ll text you.”

“Thank you,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and then has to hurry back when Nie Huaisang yells for him.

Jiang Cheng watches after him, a smile playing around his lips before he gets into the car. His co-workers must not have noticed the little exchange because no one says anything and Jiang Cheng drops each of them off as quickly as he can, the tiredness now creeping up on him as well.

He’s actually glad when the last person leaves his car and he can finally drive home.

Once he’s there, he suddenly feels like he’s been hit over the head with a hammer—or as if he drank a lot of alcohol, which he didn’t—and the only thought on his mind is to get into bed as fast as he can.

He forgets his phone in his jacket.

~*~*~

When Jiang Cheng wakes up he feels like shit. He can barely open his eyes and he feels like he could sleep for at least another whole day, but one look at the time tells him that it’s already nearing midday. He really should get up.

He feels distinctly like he has a hangover and Jiang Cheng mentally goes over the drinks he had the previous night, but he can’t remember drinking anything alcoholic. He probably would have tasted it anyway, even if it would have happened on accident.

“Fuck, I’m getting old,” he grumbles as he hauls himself to the bathroom, but not even a shower really helps.

If this is how sleep-deprivation feels like, he vows to never do it again.

This is worse than having a hang-over, in his opinion, and he slumps over at the kitchen table once he’s dressed and ready.

But making food—or even getting something from the fridge—seems like too much work right now, and it’s not like he’s particularly hungry either.

They probably really shouldn’t have ordered that last round of snacks last night.

Jiang Cheng is still contemplating if it’s worth getting some food inside of him when someone rings at his door.

Jiang Cheng groans and has half a mind just not getting up, but the ringing continues and eventually Jiang Cheng drags himself over there.

“What?” he bites out as he flings the door open, only to blink in surprise when he comes face to face with Nie Mingjue.

All of his new observations from last night hit him in the face at once and he can barely stand to look at Nie Mingjue, that’s how gorgeous he is.

“Thank the gods you’re okay,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and it’s only then that he notices the panicked look on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Jiang Cheng asks, and his mind goes over all the possibilities.

He can’t come up with anything more than food poisoning though, and that doesn’t seem to warrant Nie Mingjue’s panic.

“You promised me you’d write when you get home,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng blinks in confusion before all the blood drains out of his face.

“Oh shit,” he whispers and turns around to get his phone out of his jacket.

It’s dead, of course.

“You didn’t write and then I couldn’t contact you this morning and you seemed really wiped yesterday night when we parted, so I got worried,” Nie Mingjue rambles and Jiang Cheng turns back to him.

It really shouldn’t be, but Nie Mingjue’s panic is really sweet and cute and Jiang Cheng is already so lost if he thinks like that, he knows.

“I’m okay, I just forgot,” he tells Nie Mingjue with a wince. “I’m so sorry. It really hit me how tired I am when I got home, and I fell into bed as quickly as possible. I didn’t even think. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine, that’s alright. I shouldn’t have panicked that hard,” Nie Mingjue says, but he seems reluctant to leave and Jiang Cheng finds himself reluctant to see him go as well.

“Would you—do you want breakfast? Or, well, lunch, I guess?”

“You still seem really tired,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering his question and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Maybe I’m getting too old for days out like this. Now, what will it be?” he then asks and congratulates himself for his braveness.

That happy feeling flies out of the window when Nie Mingjue continues to hesitate.

“I—lunch?” he carefully asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

“As—I just have to—as a date?” Nie Mingjue then gets out and Jiang Cheng goes hot all over.

“I mean—”

“Because I would like that, actually,” Nie Mingjue rushes on, not giving Jiang Cheng time to answer. “But if not that’s okay, too and we can just pretend that this didn’t happen.”

“Are you still drunk?” Jiang Cheng asks him, narrowing his eyes at Nie Mingjue who shakes his head.

“No, of course not. I had breakfast, I’m good. It’s just—I’d really like to go on a date with you and it makes me nervous, I guess.”

Jiang Cheng cannot believe how far gone he is already that he finds that endearing as all hell.

“I’d love a date,” he gives back and pulls Nie Mingjue inside of his apartment. “I was just debating if eating is even worth it today, but with you it definitely is.”

When no answer from Nie Mingjue is forthcoming he turns around to look at him and is surprised to see Nie Mingjue stare at him.

“I really like you,” Nie Mingjue blurts out, clearly as nervous as he said, and Jiang Cheng can feel how his cheeks turn red.

“I really like you, too,” he gives back and then pushes Nie Mingjue towards his kitchen. “Let’s talk about that over lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” Nie Mingjue gives back and it’s what they do.

They talk about it over this lunch and then dinner two days later and then lunch at the company again and at that point Jiang Cheng happily loses count.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[lunaverseimagine]

Escape

Prompt:  I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with from @masterofthedarkness‘ 300 follower writing challenge! Congratulations again Val, I hope you like it <3

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You’re having a bad day and your crush seems to notice

Warnings: Mention of injury (not your own), mention of alcohol

Word count: 2k

A/n: So I had a complete brain flop writing this and forgot that Snape was not, in fact, teaching potions in the Marauders era. However, I’ve written the fic now and don’t have the energy to change it, so consider this an AU of sorts? (Putting in bold bc I keep getting comments about it)

Fic:

It started the moment you woke up. You couldn’t explain why but all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed, wrap the duvet round you, and hide from the world. It was as though your energy had been sucked out of you, leaving a shell that felt too heavy. And yet you were a good student, you couldn’t stand missing lessons, plus you didn’t want anyone worrying about you. Which is why, in spite of your body’s groaning protests, you heaved yourself out of your dorm and down to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

Your friends were talking animatedly around you, occasionally trying to get you to join in the conversation, but all you offered in response were weak smiles and one word replies. As a last resort your best fried Beth tried bringing up your crush, Sirius. The topic normally excited you, but today it was just a reminder that nothing would happen between you, and you became even more withdrawn. Luckily your friends understood - you wanted to be near them but weren’t up to their early morning gossip - so they stayed with you but didn’t try to get you to speak anymore.

As always, halfway through your meal the owls swooped into the hall, bringing newspapers, letters, and the occasional parcel. Mild surprise filled you at the sight of your own family’s owl Lolly settling in front of you. You stroked her head before gently untying the small, crumpled letter attached to her leg, and she nipped your finger affectionately. Your parents didn’t send you letters very often, and you were stumped as to what could be written inside. You took a deep breath. Only one way to find out.

Unfolding the parchment carefully revealed your mum’s scrawled handwriting. Odd. Normally your dad would write the letters; he found it calming to sit with his parchment and special quill after a long day as an auror, pondering his words for a while to make his messages as concise as possible. He said the process was therapeutic. But when you read the words inside it made sense, and you felt your stomach drop.

“Y/n, I’m sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you should know. Dad was injured at work. The healers say it’s treatable but he’ll be in St Mungo’s for a while. Hope school is going ok. Love Mum xx”

Swallowing your tears down, you let the letter fall from your hands and settle on the table. You forced your eyes to look up, away from the words, and you could’ve sworn you caught Sirius watching you from across the hall. As soon as you’d thought it, he’d already turned back to his friends, and you shook your head at yourself. So desperate that you were imagining interactions with your crush. Pathetic. You lay your hand in Lolly’s warm fur, focussing on how soft she felt between your fingers, trying to push the rest of your thoughts to the back of your mind. Breaking down in the middle of the Great Hall was the last thing you wanted to do.

Your lessons did nothing to help your mood. In transfiguration you were supposed to be turning rats into clocks. By the end of the class most students had done it perfectly, but your clock had a tail instead of an hour hand, and instead of ticking it squeaked with every passing second. You felt so deflated, the only thought that kept you going was getting back to your dorm at the end of the day and hiding in your bed. Maybe finding some firewhiskey too to dull the aching you felt when your thoughts drifted to your dad in a hospital bed. In fact, what you really wanted, the one thing that might bring you peace, was to have someone hold you. Not just someone. Sirius. But you knew as well as anyone that he wouldn’t be interested in the likes of you. You couldn’t event transfigure a rat, you’d never be good enough.

You had mixed feelings as you made your way to your last lesson of the day. After this you were free for the evening, but first you had to endure an hour of Snape’s teaching, and his judgement of you. Potions was your worst subject and Snape made a point of noticing every little thing you did wrong. Begrudgingly you approached the dungeons, the echo of your footsteps was all that filled the empty corridors. Most of the time Hogwarts felt familiar, but in times like these it felt cold and unforgiving, emphasising the loneliness that was building in your chest. Wait- why was no one else in the corridors? With a jolt you realised that you’d spent so long lost in your thoughts between lessons that you were late. Your steps sped into a run, and when you finally burst through the door to Snape’s dungeon, he stopped mid sentence to scowl at you. Everyone else turned towards you too, so many pairs of eyes drilling into you. You willed the stone floor to swallow you whole.

“I will not tolerate students showing up late to my class.” You gulped, trying to suppress your heavy-breathing as you awaited your punishment. “I’d have thought you of all people would want to be present for the whole lesson. Then you might finally brew a decent potion. Alas…” he trailed off, a thoughtful expression on his face. You felt your cheeks burn, your head hung low. “Detention. After class you will scrub everyone’s cauldrons clean. No magic allowed.” It was all you could do to nod. You felt so defeated as you stood at the table beside Beth that you almost didn’t notice the small explosion a few tables behind you. You whipped your head around, and- no, you definitely weren’t imagining it this time- Sirius winked at you as Snape stalked between the desks towards the commotion. He glared down at Sirius.

“Looks like Y/L/N won’t be alone in detention.” He sneered, and weaved his way to the front of the class without another word. Your jaw was slack and Beth nudged you with her elbow. 

“He did that on purpose!” She whisper-yelled. Your jaw was slack, not quite sure if you believed her.

“Well- well maybe it was an accident? Or he did it for fun?” Your excuses were weak even to your own ears. But why would he want to be in detention with you?

Seconds stretched into minutes as you willed the time away. Thankfully Beth was good at potions so she did most of the work, telling you which ingredients to chop and when to add them to the cauldron. Snape still found things to fault but you just tuned his voice out, feeling like you were watching the scene through a window instead of being in it yourself.

Eventually the class was dismissed, and Beth gave you a sympathetic smile and mouthed “good luck” as she left the room. When it was just you, Sirius and Snape left, he held a hand out to each of you.

“Wands.” Reluctantly you and Sirius both placed your wands in his hands, not quite meeting his eye as you did so. “I want the equipment spotless.” With that he left the room. Despite feeling as bad as you did, you couldn’t help your heartbeat quickening at the thought of being alone with Sirius.

Avoiding his eye, you crossed the room to the cupboard full of cleaning supplies, dirty cauldrons being the only thing that stood in the way of you and the relative peace of your dorm. You felt his gaze on the back of your head.

“What?” You kept your focus on the cupboard, rummaging through the supplies to find what you needed.

“Are you ok?” After a moment, you turned to face him, throwing a sponge which he caught effortlessly, without breaking eye-contact.

“I’ve been better.” You didn’t elaborate, instead getting to work scrubbing the grime off the cauldron closest to you. Sirius abandoned his sponge, coming to stand on the opposite side of your table, watching your determined face as you tried to get one particularly tough spot of dragon-bogey off the side of the cauldron. He found himself admiring the way you furrowed your brows as you concentrated, the way your tongue poked out slightly from between your lips. Those lips. You, on the other hand, were thinking about how it would take double the time to clean if Sirius didn’t do his half. Subconsciously you squeezed your sponge tighter until your knuckles turned white.

“I bet I could make you feel better.” You huffed. Sure you had feelings for Sirius, but he could still be infuriating.

“I bet you could.”

His eyes twinkled, surprised that you’d joined in with his flirting. “Oh yeah, how’s that?” His hopes were soon shattered as you replied.

“By helping me clean so we can leave this bloody dungeon.” Sirius was taken aback. You never normally snapped at people, and he was just trying to be nice. Godric, he’d got himself a detention just so you wouldn’t be alone.

“You know what? Fine.” He stormed back over to his sponge and started cleaning the cauldron furthest away from you. The two of you scrubbed in silence for a while, making decent progress on the cauldrons, but you felt guilt creeping in at the way you’d treated him. The guilt, the tiredness, the worry about your dad, all of it swirled through your thoughts in a perpetual loop until you couldn’t help it anymore. You let out a small sob, trying your best to be quiet, but in the otherwise silent room Sirius heard it perfectly. He abandoned his cauldron, rushing over to embrace you in a hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back. He had no clue what to say, but the silence didn’t bother you. It gave you a chance to work through your feelings. 

After a while you pulled away, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your robes. “Oh Merlin, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for darling.” He rested his hand on your arm for a moment, waiting to see if you wanted to say anything else. When you just smiled, he returned the smile, before going back to cleaning the cauldrons. This time the silence that filled the room was comfortable, both of you lost in thought. Finally, arms aching, the two of you finished your last cauldrons, and Sirius went to Snape’s office to collect your wands. You sat on the floor outside the classroom waiting for him, picking at a loose thread on your robe. When Sirius returned he handed you your wand, and slid down the wall so he was sitting next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder, whispering into the corridor.

“Thank you.” 

Sirius wrapped an arm round your shoulders. “What for?”

“I know you got that detention on purpose. Just- thank you for being there.”

“Not a problem darling.” His fingers traced tender circles on your shoulder, and you felt yourself melting in to him. Being so close to him you thought you’d be nervous, but instead you felt peaceful. Safe. 

Sirius broke the silence. “What’s going on?” It was almost a whisper, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should’ve asked, but he couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own. He needed you to know that he was there to listen.

“It’s just- it’s a bit of everything, y’know? I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” You laughed at how stupid that sounded, but Sirius took your hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“I’ve got some firewhisky in my room?” It came out as a question.

You turned so you were face-to-face.

“And the cuddles?”

“I’m sure I’ve got some of those to spare too.” He lifted your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on each knuckle in turn. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation. Then he stood up, helping you off the floor after him, and your hands stayed connected the whole walk back to his common room.

End

A/N: I hope you liked it (regardless of the Snape/Sirius timeline error oopsies)! If you did feel free to give feedback or check out my other stuff, and also give Val (@masterofthedarkness) a follow if you haven’t already! <3

[sometimesiwrite]

The Least I Can Do

Summary: Jaskier isn’t always the bright and charismatic star in Eskel’s night sky. When he’s not, Eskel does his best to be there for him however he can.  Warnings: Depression, mental/emotional exhaustion, discussions thereof, fluff. 

Pairing: Eskel/Jaskier

MASTERLIST Some days they were lounging on river banks, drinking excellent wine straight from their splits and amourously embracing in the tall grass until they both smelled like meadow and springtime. Some days were like today, when Eskel returned from a weeklong slog of a contract to find Jaskier propped up in his bed with the blinds drawn at two o’clock in the afternoon. He wouldn’t say it was a common occurrence—Eskel had seen him like this maybe a handful of times in their four years together—but it didn’t exactly take him by surprise. In restrospect, he’d seen the telltale patches of cloud cover in his eyes before he’d gone. Perhaps he’d ignored them, knowing he wouldn’t want to leave if he’d acknowledged the encroaching crash.

They’d talked about it the first time it happened. Jaskier assured Eskel that there was nothing to be concerned about. That he would be listless for a bit, maybe bathe a bit less and sleep more than usual. But he would still eat, still take visitors, still attend his lectures without significant difficulty. “It’s alright, Eskel. I’m just tired. Perhaps a little dull around the edges, but I promise you I’m fine. This is nothing for you to be responsible for, no more than a cloudy day. I’m grateful for you, always.” Eskel tried hard to remember his lover’s words, would do his best to remind himself that Jaskier’s heaviness was temporary and relatively harmless. Still, it didn’t make it any easier to see the sparkle gone from those brilliant blue eyes or the charisma faded from his almost perpetual smile.

“Hello, love.” The voice that came from Jaskier’s corner of the room was hollow and dull, like someone had stuffed his lute with cotton, Eskel thought as he sloughed off his gear. He drew closer to the bed and it became apparent Jaskier hadn’t bathed for several days: his hair was greasy and tangled, and the funk of oversleep mingled with the sour musk of sadness that curled off his skin like smoke. Eskel sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

Jaskier’s eyes skimmed over Eskel’s stubbled, mud spattered face, “You look like hell.” A wry halfhearted smile tugged at the corners of Jaskier’s lips, and Eskel couldn’t help but huff out a laugh of his own.

“And you look great. Going out soon?”

“Oh yeah. Big plans. Going to go chat up loads of people.”

Eskel pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s hairline and rested their foreheads together, “I missed you.”

Jaskier’s fingers found the nape of Eskel’s neck, “Missed you too.”

“Don’t know about you, but I could use a bath. Come with me?” Eskel knew that if there was one thing bound to get his bard out of bed, it was the promise of warm water, shampoo, and naked witcher—sharing skin always made him feel better, even though his usually-unstoppable libido was more or less absent in times like this. Deep embraces, hands smoothing over his leaden skin to spread a bit of warmth to his tired bones, Eskel’s smooth voice rumbling against his back... Eskel had missed it, too. He’d become spoiled on Jaskier’s affection over the years, and a week spent traipsing around tracking down Nekker nests had him feeling more than a little starved. “I’ve got those salts you like. Picked them up in Novigrad on the way back.”

“Novigrad isn’t on the way back,” Jaskier frowned. Eskel had gone entirely out of his way for the sake of lemon-sage bath salts—out of his way for him. Eskel said nothing, but offered a soft smile, and Jaskier knew there was no sense contending the point, “Well, if you’re going to twist my arm...” The briefest hint of a cheeky grin flashed across his face as he limply pulled the sheets back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

A large, warm hand rested on the top of his thigh, “I’ll get things ready. You wait here, I’ll come get you.” A pair of soft lips lingered on the side of Jaskier’s neck as he nodded sullenly, staring at his feet on the floor.

Eskel could feel his own tiredness settling in as he walked down the corridor to the bath room. It had been a long and arduous week, and he didn’t have much to give. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. He’s lost count of how many baths, shampooings, massages, bandages, stitches, and caresses his partner had given him over the years.

This was the least he could do.

[aces-drew]

a christmas rini hc bc the hsmtmts special revived me <3

just a cute lil christmas rini fim my bros, just some mushy christmas love shit for y’all hehehhe (not proofread sorry, it was just a braindump lmao)

ricky loved mistletoe growing up.

no seriously, he loved it. 

ever since he was little, year after year, mistletoe was associated with everything that made him the happiest - the holidays, winter, ugly sweaters, being snug with someone you love, his parents happy and in love, and the best kind of warmth to overwhelm all the cold

his earliest memory of his parents truly in love was when he held some mistletoe up to their knees and they kissed above him with smiles on their faces and teeth clashing.

it seemed to evolve as sort of a tradition. every year since ricky was 5 years old, he held up the mistletoe for his mom and dad while the entire house smelled of nutmeg while the cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies baked in the oven;

eventually his dad nagging him to do it once he hit double digits while he visibly (fake) gagged at how endearing his parents were for kissing under the mistletoe 

until this year, there was nothing that could ruin the innocence of a kiss under the mistletoe 

but here he was, winter break of junior year, with half a christmas tree up, his parent’s divorce finalised, his mom celebrating christmas with ted in chicago, his dad drunk on his days off work, and him eating microwaved thanksgiving turkey lunches (that are somehow still a thing) alone 

if he wasn’t so fucking angry at all the exhaustion and sadness he was feeling, he might’ve has the emotional availability to cry about it (hint: he didn’t)

so he just resorted to the monotony of waking up every day, doing his homework (yeah it surprised him too dw), facetiming nini, and gaming to keep himself as distracted as he could, actively avoiding the holidays all together

and obviously nini knew the extent to which this all sucked for ricky :( 

in addition to the guilt she was feeling leaving for denver in a few weeks, she hated the way ricky’s festive spirit was non-existent this year 

she remembered them every year growing up, ricky resembling a puppy getting ready for a walk in the park with each day they got closer to christmas

ricky, even before them dating, having 4 christmas movie marathons planned for every saturday of the month for them to watch on nini’s couch

(die hard of course being one of them because YES, it is a christmas movie, and no, he didn’t take criticism) 

her excitedly looking forward to cuddling with him underneath the only non-christmas coloured blanket he didn’t complain about nini keeping on the couch because he knew that it was her favourite blanket that they would inevitably end up cuddled under together

her moms obviously found them passed out on the couch snuggling, nini resting almost on top of ricky, them soundly sleeping with their stomachs full of hot cocoa and their hearts filled with love for each other (and yes the cheesiest and warmest christmas cheer)

god, they fucking loved each before they even knew what love was; if nini wasn’t already the hopelessly hopeless romantic she was, she could scream into a pillow about it

she was so thankful for ricky and the holidays, and ricky during the holidays. she always thought her favourite season was spring but seeing how much ricky loved winter, it was hard for it not to slowly become her’s too

so now as she sat facetiming him and he looked the saddest he’s ever looked, it was impossible for her not to scheme

after a few searches on pinterest and a re-watch of all the new girl christmas and thanksgiving episodes, she got her plan together

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

two days later, while ej, kourtney and big red took ricky out for a movie and some pizza, unbeknown to ricky, she used the hidden spare key to get in (break in) to his house

she knew that his dad had been working pretty late everyday this winter so she bet that some quality time with ricky was highly likely 

after raiding ricky’s gummy worm stash from the second last drawer beside his kitchen counter, she got everything ready 

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

‘this really is so nice of you guys, really’ 

ricky was incredibly thankful for his friends. he didn’t even know what he would do without them, but it was hard not to feel the sting of nini foregoing the movies for a workshop that her denver school was hosting

and of course he tried not to be bitter about it, he was so incredibly happy for her, she was the most talented person he knew, but it also sucked that he would have to do the rest of high school without his girlfriend, the person he loved most in the entire world

‘dude, don’t even sweat it... we know it’s been a rough winter’

and again, if two months ago you were going to tell ricky that ej was more an acquaintance to him, let alone a friend, he’d think something was perpetually wrong with the universe

but here he was, even empathetic

they had eaten, watched an overplayed zombie movie at the theatre and spend some good time together. and even though he was incredibly grateful for the quality time he’d spent with his friends, his social battery was low and his tiredness unrelenting.

so within twenty minutes, he was back on his driveway, taking a deep breath before bracing the Utah snow

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

once he walked through the door, he didn’t really even realise the entire living room re-arranged until the smell of his mom’s cinnamon rolls hit him

and then he processed all of it at once; a fort was set up in the middle of the room, the fully decorated christmas tree gleaming in its designated corner and christmas decor uplifting the entire space. fairy lights hung around the fort and the tv had been moved to level with it as muffled christmas sintra rung through the air

the entire gesture winded ricky. 

‘hi’ nini’s voice piped shyly from the kitchen

‘hi’ 

it was safe to say that rick was indeed short-circuiting right now

‘oh my-’ ‘ricky i-’

he didn’t really wait, ‘no me first. what the actual fuck nini? what the actual he-? oh my- i don’t eve- oh my-’

luckily, nini wasn’t as winded, ‘i know christmas sucks this year, i know that everything seems wrong. but i love you and gina, ej, big red and kourtney love you, we’re here. i’m here. i wanted to something for the holidays, ya know? take some agency and plan the festivities for once.’

ricky was still pretty starstruck, ‘by the looks of it, i should definitely do this more.’

her soft giggles were only matched with tears pooling in ricky’s eyes. tears he was desperately trying to control from sliding down his cheeks. nothing had managed to lift this unnerving pressure he had pressed up on his chest till now. and now? now, he was elated. he felt like a fucking cloud. he was so relieved, and so so fucking thankful.

‘this-nini this? this is everything.’ and he meant it. the earnestness in his voice seemed to surprise nini, her eyes suddenly matching his glossy ones. 

‘i love you.’ was all he managed to say as he rested his forehead on hers after hugging her, breathing in more of the nutmeg candles she’d lit. 

‘one more thing.’

‘what?’

‘look up!’

and surely enough, mistletoe stared right back at ricky, ‘i know this is hard. i know it is,’ she said almost reading his mind, ‘so we make our own traditions y’know, new ones. happy ones. so i thought i’d start with this.’

and that was enough for him to kiss her; he tried to convey all the love and great-fullness and integrity and warmth and honesty he felt, how much she made him feel like he had a home in her, how comfortable she was, how indispensable. most of all, he wanted her to know how lucky he was to be loved by her.

when they finally broke apart, nini raced to the kitchen counter, and when she returned with her favourite non-christmas sunshine yellow blanket and a copy of the die hard dvd, he knew that this winter break was something he could survive. 

[crookes-library]

5 times Finan grabs Uhtred because he's scared and once because he just wants to.

This kind of got long so putting under a read more 

1.

It was too quiet, they should have been almost upon the raiders by now but there was only silence and darkness around them. The trees were packed too tightly for the light of the moon to filter through and Finan could barely see Uhtred next to him. Distantly they heard an owl call out and Finan focused on keeping his breath steady and muscles poised, watching for even the slightest movement ahead of them that might indicate an ambush. 

There was a faint rustle and Finan tensed, hand gripped tight on his seax. A sudden flurry of movement from the bushes and Finan was grabbing onto Uhtred’s arm to pull him to the ground, expecting the whistle of an arrow. 

“You trying to protect me from a rabbit?” an amused voice came from beside him and Finan looked up to see it was indeed a rabbit that they had disturbed, now hopping away. 

“Oh shut up,” Finan grumbled, letting go of Uhtred’s arm, his friend chuckling softly. 

2. 

Finan was dog-tired, it had been days since they fled across the Mercian countryside with Aelfwynn. Days of walking, of looking over their shoulders, of anxiously watching the children and trying to avoid the sickness. 

Uhtred had clearly seen some of that tiredness in his face because he had offered to keep watch, telling him in no uncertain terms to rest. 

Finan tried, really he did but the anxiety seeped into his dreams, distorted faces, bloody and diseased, chasing after him. In the fog of his mind he tried desperately to reach safety, in the trees he could see a familiar silhouette. His feet felt so heavy as he stepped closer to Uhtred, he knew if he could just reach him then they could face whatever was coming after them together. 

Finally he laid a hand on Uhtred’s shoulder, distantly hearing the echo of his own voice calling his friends name. 

“Finan,” dream Uhtred cracked a smile and blackened blood flowed from it. 

Finan gasped as he woke, grabbing onto the arm that had shaken him awake. 

“It’s morning, you alright?” came Uhtred’s familiar rumble, no sign of blood on his face as Finan squinted at him in the dawn light, still breathing fast. 

“Yeah...yeah I’m fine,” Finan shook his head to clear it of the dream. 

“Really? Because if you grip my arm any harder you’re going to rip it off,” Uhtred teased softly. 

“Ah, sorry,” Finan let go and with one last look of concern Uhtred moved away to wake the others. 

3.

They had prepared about as well as they could but there was never any guarantee in battle. Uhtred had made his usual rounds amongst the men to bolster their spirits whilst Finan sharpened his sword but now he could see him wandering off. 

Finan put his sword to the side and followed, Uhtred he knew wasn’t immune to needing encouragement. They had long since fallen into the habit of talking through tactics on the eve of battle, it helped them both to have it straight in their heads even if they had gone over it a hundred times already. 

Uhtred had paused, staring at the nearby Roman ruins when he reached him. 

“You ever wonder what they were like?” Uhtred asked as Finan approached. 

“Whatever they were like they are only ghosts now.”

Uhtred hummed his agreement and walked toward the ruins, Finan almost spoke up to stop him, everyone knew the ruins were haunted but to Finan’s perpetual exasperation it had never seemed to bother Uhtred. 

They walked slowly between the broken down clumps of long gone walls and houses, far from the light of the campfires now. Finan could almost feel the whisper of the dead in every breath of wind. 

“We should go back,” Finan spoke lowly, not wanting to disturb anyone or anything. 

“A moment longer,” Uhtred asked and Finan tried to swallow down his nerves as they got deeper and deeper into the ruins. 

A sudden gust of wind swirled around them and a fox barked nearby, without conscious thought Finan pulled at Uhtred’s side to stop him going further. 

“Alright, I get it, we’ll go back,” Uhtred smiled at him. 

“If you please, I would much rather the warmth of a fire and a draught of ale than stirring up ghosts,” Finan told him. 

4.

They were drunk, Finan knew this well enough as they stumbled back home from the alehouse. Uhtred was laughing about something but Finan couldn’t remember what, just that it was making him laugh also. 

He wondered if the ground around Coccham had always been this stony as he tripped on something and only just managed to regain his balance by leaning on Uhtred’s shoulder. 

It was too dark, how was it this dark, they had only been in the alehouse an hour or so right?

Finan couldn’t even remember what direction the hall lay in, he was just following Uhtred and hoping that he was less drunk and knew the way home or they were both screwed. 

He thought he could see a faint light ahead of them but it kept blurring and reappearing elsewhere. 

“You say something?” Finan blinked at Uhtred, Uhtred shrugged. 

“No, I did,” a voice spoke next to his ear. 

“Sweet Jesus!” Finan cried grabbing Uhtred’s upper arm as he swivelled round only to come face-to-face with a familiar shit-eating grin. 

Sihtric cackled, clearly enjoying having startled Finan far too much. 

“I thought you were on watch, you arse,” Finan grumbled.

“I am but I can spare some time to help two drunk old men back home,” Sihtric teased. 

“Youth these days, no respect,” Finan complained and Uhtred started laughing again next to him. 

5. 

This was madness, truly madness Finan thought, but Uhtred would not be dissuaded. He had been sent a message from a seer and could not be convinced to ignore her summons. 

“If it is nonsense then at least I know and if it is indeed a message from the gods then I cannot ignore it,” Uhtred reasoned to him. 

Finan still didn’t like it and he liked it even less as they approached the secluded copse of trees where she resided, the seer’s smoke blackened wooden hut emerging from a thicket of moss and ivy. 

They dismounted from their horses and approached, Uhtred’s gait more sure than Finan’s though they both went slowly. Uhtred knocked at the door and it opened almost immediately. A woman only a little younger than them stood there, dark haired and flush from the hearth fire. 

She seemed normal enough but Finan only found that more suspicious. 

“You came,” she spoke pleasantly. 

“Were you expecting me not to?” Uhtred answered and she laughed lightly, stepping back from the doorway to usher them in.

She left them standing awkwardly in the middle of the room as she gathered cups and poured them both some warmed ale from the hearth with her back to them. 

They took the drinks gratefully, the journey had been a cold one after all. 

Within a moment of Uhtred taking a gulp of his he seemed to sway, Finan dropped his cup and reached him just as he sank to the floor. 

“What the hell did you do?!” Finan snarled. 

“He is fine, it is only to help him dream, he must see it for himself,” the woman assured him. 

“If you are lying to me I will kill you,” Finan promised her. 

“Then it is good that I am not lying,” she laughed, grabbing some furs to lay beneath Uhtred’s head. Finan scoffed but could only take her at her word for now. 

Settling more comfortably on the floor next to Uhtred he pulled his hand between his own and held on, hoping by touch alone he might keep his friend anchored to this world. Finan prayed silently that the dreams would pass swiftly or he was in for a long night of worry. 

+1

Dawn rose on a day like any other, dragging Finan from his sleep. He moaned slightly as he stretched beneath the warmth of the furs. He would have to get up soon he knew, people would already be stirring around the estate but for now the hall was quiet. 

Eyes still closed, still half-dozing, Finan rolled onto his side and reached out for the source of his warmth. Uhtred’s chest rumbled slightly as Finan curled his arm around his waist. 

“Morning,” Finan breathed against Uhtred’s shoulder. 

“Mmm, morning,” Uhtred murmured, voice still croaky from sleep, pulling Finan’s arm closer around him with a fond smile.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Preview: Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-One

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Duff lets out a sharp breath, his hands pulling me down onto him while he gives one last thrust into me, warmth spreading throughout me as his cum coats my insides. 

"Fuck." I whimper out, my hips flexing, at the feeling. 

"How the fuck could he cheat you?" He asks me, reeling off his sex-high, his eyes running all over my glistened skin before he's sitting up, wrapping his arms around me. "You're so fucking flawless." He adds and I smile at him, brushing the hair from his face before kissing him. 

Once I get off of him and lay beside him in the bed, he's looking up at our mirrored ceiling, that's recently been replaced ever since I broke it throwing a tantrum. 

"That was…" I start, realizing what I'd just done, and he looks at me, his brows furrowed slightly. 

"Are you okay?" He asks me, sitting up, probably thinking I'm about to cry. 

"Yes, I'm fine." I assure him. "It's just strange to have sex without being left right after." I add, remembering the more times than not that Nikki would leave to go out after we got done. 

"I'm not leaving." He tells me, his hand brushing against my cheek. 

"I know." I reply, closing my eyes, my face resting against the pillow as tiredness creeps up on me. 

He lays back down beside me, pulling me closer to him, and comfort consumes my body…

...Right before the roaring of Nikki's Harley pulling into the driveway shatters it.

I snap up, Duff doing the same. 

"Is that…?" He asks me, eyes wide. 

"Shit!" I whisper yell, the two of us getting out of bed. 

He nearly trips, pulling his jeans back on, and I'm pulling my silk robe on, grabbing Duff's shoes, heading for the guest bedroom closet. 

Once he's hidden, having to crouch uncomfortably to fit under the shelf, I'm running back to our room, spraying a few sprays of my perfume to throw off the sex smell.

I rush to the bathroom to wet a washcloth and get Duff's cum, that's leaking down my legs now, off, just as I hear Nikki's boots stomping into our room. 

I finish cleaning up as fast as possible and get back out there to see him shirtless. 

"H-Hey." I nervously greet him, regretting not fixing my hair from its roused state. 

He glances at me and does a double take, his eyes snaking up my exposed legs before he's looking at me. 

A slick smirk falls on his lips as he says:

"Whatcha been doing?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, eyes wide. 

"I know what you look like post-orgasm, Viv. There's no shame in having fun with yourself." He adds and I nearly sigh out with relief. He thinks I've been masterbating. Perfect. "Infact," he steps closer, making me step back until my back hits the wall, and he puts his hand beside my head, trapping me in, "it's really hot." 

I shift uncomfortably as his other hand moves to the curve of my hip, slipping under the robe to palm at my ass cheek, and I have to force myself to hold back a moan when his hand suddenly comes down to harshly give one good smack to my flesh before rubbing over my stinging skin. 

"Don't stop just because I pulled up." He tells me, motioning to the messy bed. "Keep doing your thing and I'll just observe." He grins and I snap out of it and push him away from me. 

"You're drunk." I bite at him, annoyed. 

"Blah, blah." He replies, pulling another tshirt out of his closet. "Tommy puked on me, I had to change shirts." He says. "Not that I owe you a fucking explanation."

"Never said you did, Nikki."

"No, but you're looking pissed that I'm here so that's why I am."

"I'm not pissed, can you stop assuming things?" 

"Whatever, Viv." He grumbles. 

"Yeah, whatever, Nikki." 

"Oh my God, just shut the fuck u--" he stops abruptly, and I'm confused until I see he's focused on my hip bone, that's been exposed by my robe failing me when it shifts, and I see he's focused on the "D" on my hip. 

He steps closer to me, angling his head in every direction to see it clearly, even laying on the carpet and looking at it from below, the same confused expression on his face. 

When he gets off the floor, he's on his knees, holding at my hips to look at it from centimeters away. 

"Nikki, cut it out." I scold him, trying to move away from him but he stops me. 

"Ya know, the funniest thing is happening. I haven't taken anything hallucinogenic, but I swear I see a 'D' on your hip bone." He tells me and I finally get out of his grip as he stands back up, studying my expression. "Oh, hell fucking no, you did n--I know you do not have a fucking 'D' on your fucking body."

I had one in me a few minutes ago.

"It's not a 'D', Nikki." 

"I may not have graduated but I know my ABCs, Vivian, and that's a fucking 'D'!" 

"It's a Roman numeral for '100'!" I say back, smartly. "To represent the least number of times you fucked Vanity while we were together, so I'll never forget!" 

"We're still together, Vivian!" He screams.

"Really?! Is that why you screw groupies almost every night on the road?!" 

"Because I get lonely because my wife refuses to acknowledge me without screaming my fucking head off!"

"You were screwing another woman even when I wasn't perpetually angry at you, Nikki, what the fuck are you talking about 'lonely'?!" 

[xxsparksxx]

Who would like to hear a cautionary tale?

It’s called ‘don’t ever wash a piece of crochet you’ve just finished when you’re too tired to think straight’.

Oh yes. You can see where this is going, right?

So if you remember, I had a set of twenty 6″ squares that I rejected from my latest blanket as not fitting the overall scheme. I ripped apart one of those, to estimate total yarn usage for that blanket, but that left me with nineteen. Okay, I thought. Sixteen squares, in a four-by-four pattern, will make a nice little baby blanket. Waste not, want not.

I joined them all together using the flat braid join, which is a lacier join and added a little extra to the size of the finished blanket. Then I worked a border, very simple, just single crochet and chains, to make a nice lacy mesh type border. Nice and wide to add a few more inches onto the end result. Not my favourite blanket ever, but it was nice enough. Somebody would like it.

Whenever I make a blanket with Stylecraft Special DK, I don’t block individual squares, but I do wash and gentle tumble dry the finished object, which works very effectively as a blocking method. 30 degree cycle in the washing machine, with some fabric softener, and then a gentle tumble dry, and finish it off over a radiator or in the airing cupboard. I’ve never had any problems with this before. Not ever.

I washed the blanket on Sunday evening, and bunged it into the tumble dryer while I was very distracted by the fact that one of my chickens had escaped out of the chicken yard and was AWOL (long story – she turned up the next day, very indignant that she couldn’t get back in with the others and having clearly spent the night safely up a tree somewhere!). If there was a problem with the blanket after the wash, I didn’t notice it – being, as I say, very distracted by the errant chicken, and also frankly rather knackered. which seems to be my perpetual state of being at the moment.

When I got it out of the tumble dryer, though…oh yes. Then I noticed a problem.

This is what the squares looked like when I’d finished crocheting them:

Aaaand this is what the squares looked like after a wash and dry:

Yeah. Bit of a difference, as you can see.

It’s kind of got a nice drape to it, but…..yeah. I must have, in my tiredness, put the blanket in the wash on the wrong cycle.

Do not try this at home, kids. Do not wash crocheted blankets when you’re knackered. It does not end well.

All I can say is that I’m lucky it was ‘only’ a ‘use stuff up’ blanket, not a design I’d been working on for weeks or months!! As it is, it’s not even fit for a charity shop. I think it’s just going to have to go into the bin. Honestly, I think these squares were just doomed from the start. It’s not a bad square in itself, but sometimes a project, or part of a project, is just…..doomed.

Sigh. I mean, it could be worse, but still. Ugh. I wish I knew what I’d actually done, just to make sure it never happens again! It must have been too hot. It’s never happened before and I’m sure, with due diligence, it will never happen again. But it’s certainly a cautionary tale. Never again will I put a blanket in to wash when I’m exhausted and trying to find a missing chicken in the dark.

And nor, I’m sure, will any of you!

A Cautionary Tale Who would like to hear a cautionary tale? It's called 'don't ever wash a piece of crochet you've just finished when you're too tired to think straight'.

[atomic-lexa]

Ummm can I request a follow up to the Maxson/bad bitch sole bc that pairing gives me life. We love a flustered elder. I need them to be together. Ugh.

I’ll admit I’m not super happy with how the first part turned out😕Nothing wrong with a lil self-indulgent fic, but I just don’t feel like I really delved into the depths that I feel in Arthur’s character. So IF I am to turn this into a series- even just a two-parter it will NOT be half-assed one!! So I’ve revamped this one. Okay thank you te amo a todos and enjoy!!

Part One: Not Your Soldier

Ad Gloria

(Arthur Maxson/Sole Survivor)

Mornings were easy enough to get through, with some coffee and lots of internal monologue fit to inspire masses. Maxson’s mind buzzed with the sights and sounds of the ship. Boots scuffing metal, and the persistent hum of the moving parts within the heart of the Prydwen. Quiet, serious conversations mumbled low between senior officers, and enthused banter among recruits over breakfast. The ever-present stream of new hearts and mind into his military was a soothing enough thought. The paperwork was a bitch, but nevertheless. Some new initiates fell in seamlessly, adorning their files with flowery notes from their sponsors, while others maintained their enigmatism. The Elder’s natural attraction to solitude made these certain trainees appeal to him. The urge to sate a curiosity, of sorts- even if he dismissed it as merely keeping an eye on them.

He had to admit, his curiosity was noxious when it came to Sole. Maxson was experienced in cloaking his demeanor in apathy, but there was something captivating about the Django-Jane before him. Some equilibrium between explosive, and never making a move too soon that she seemed adept at. The pernicious met the pedantic when she boarded his ship. Clad in Brotherhood armor and a discontent expression, she had a character he wanted to call childish, but settled on valiant. It all suited her well. Every interaction beyond debriefings and day-time acknowledgements in passing were matched by less on-the-books exchanges between the two of them- typically in shadowed corridors where the murmur of ship’s aliveness blanketed their own conversations. He never could seem to slip past that armor and discontent expression.

Following a series of scoldings and disciplinary actions he’d recycled from vexatious Squires, Maxson promised himself he was constantly on the brink of stripping Sole of her rank and earning himself rebuking rights against the Paladin. However, with every mission she wiped from his roster, he found her to be an increasingly indispensable asset. This worried him. Like it or not, she had a foot in the door, which pissed him off endlessly. In her company, though, he was nothing more than somewhat frustrated, allowing her the reigns for whatever controversial dialogue she decided to ignite that day. 

This night, however, she’d returned from her detail with Danse without so much as a sarcastic comment passed to Proctor Quinlan. He was alerted by a young Knight that she was on the flight deck. It wasn’t necessarily uncommon for a soldier who’d seen something horrific in battle to threaten flinging themselves from the rails to an anticlimactic death on the airport’s grounds. Maxson took a sip of his black coffee, and set aside his files- preparing himself to go to her captivated, and walk away from her prideless. Her eyes were clouded, not the glazed napalm he’d come to know. Something familiar to him took shape in her posture, leaned against the railing of the Prydwen’s chest. She was worn, and scarred, to be sure, but no more defeated by the avaricious expanses of the wasteland below them. Sarah Lyons had the same look about her. Certainly, someone like that only appeared once in a life time. Vicious and virtuous in their own right, subservient to the cause, but master of only themselves. His former mentor’s Sentinel-quality of taking the gnashing teeth of the Capital Wasteland into her own two hands before coming home to teach him all she’d learned. He wondered what Sole could have learned in the slow and unforgiving cruelty of her life. It was daunting, even for him. Especially for him. With the valiant, came their tragic heroism. Subsequently, their death. 

So, yes. Perhaps he would rather brave the insubordination of the woman before him in stead of seeing her flame extinguished.

At a lazy tempo, he made his way over to her, in attempt to warn her of his being there. If she took notice, she didn’t make it known. “It seems you do make a habit of wandering my ship at night.” To match her, he rested his eyes on the blackness of the poisoned ocean. It reached vastly from the light of the Prydwen, into a cold and uninviting night.

“I do.” She replied, seeming focused on something he couldn’t see. She was still covered in blood, from whatever she had battled earlier in the day. It shown dark and crimson on her skin, and the ballistic fiber of her suit.

‘”And why is it you do that?” He tried to make it sound rhetorical.

“Why is it you don’t act your age?” She remarked dryly. At least she hadn’t lost her aptitude for being difficult. Any other moment he would have insisted she watch her tone. But the jarring reality of seeing Sarah in her had been admittedly disarming.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know, actually. Too exhausted, I suppose.”

Sole’s gaze pulled from the obsidian sky and found its way to him. The heaviness of the view before him was the only thing on his mind. He would forgo telling her she was the thing that exhausted him, for the tiredness on her own countenance. “That’s almost as depressing as the food in this boat.” She muttered under her breath. With that, he laughed. Such wasn’t a mercy he knew very often. She tilted her head, a bit of suspicion on her features.

“I’ve been preoccupied with the showering situation.” He responded. Maybe it was her persistent apathy that had him throwing away the stakes and tucking away all the fucks he was supposed to give in the revealing daylight.

“Yeah, that shit show too.” Sole said. Silence settled, before she turned her head to him again. “You know,” She added. “When I first met you I thought you were a prick.”

He raised his eyebrows at the unadulterated abrasiveness. “Yes. I concluded that much.”

“Well. You’re not that much of a prick. You’re just rigid as fuck.” She said with the finality of a doctor diagnosing her patient. He wanted to laugh again, but he settled for a small grin.

And you’re absolutely unmanageable. Forbearant as ever, he kept the words behind his teeth. He sighed, leaning on the railing beside her. Sole’s wrists were exposed from the rolled-up sleeves of her jumpsuit, and he studied the goosebumps that dappled them. If she hadn’t caught some sickness from ground-zero, she certainly would by morning. Taking a step back, he tugged his coat off his shoulders; her watching him the whole time. He placed it around her frame and trusted it wouldn’t be uncomfortably heavy.

“You remind me of someone I knew, once.” He said, without knowing why he did, re-settling against the cold steel.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” She said, the statement, following his actions, seeming to throw her off.

He shrugged. “It’s admirable. If rather mutinous.”

“You cope better than Danse, then, if admirable’s how you put it.” He was painfully mindful of the modest inches she had closed between them.

He smiled again, understatedly. “Hm. I imagine you’ve given him a migraine or two.”

Now, it was her turn to laugh. Despite her apt for comedy, her laugh had never rung in his ears prior to this moment. He felt more relaxed to view their exchange as less of the struggle it usually was. He found it shockingly easy to seep into her way of flowy banter, rather than being, well, rigid as fuck.

“You can say that again. I haven’t given you any migraines, have I, Sir?” She offered, disarmingly sweet, her face close to his, eyes searching his own. Looking for what, he didn’t know.

“Perpetually, actually. Since you came. I suppose I’m just forgiving, in that regard.” He replied.

“Can I make it up to you?” She smiled, nose moving ever-closer to his. 

“Perhaps. How many more details do you intend to apply for?”

“I told you,” She smirked. “I’m not a soldier. But if you let me keep the coat, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ad Victoriam, then, Knight.”

“Ad Gloria, Commander.”

So as to say that victory was not enough for her hungry mind. It sparked like matches in his chest. Maybe that was what it was to act his age- the aspect of glory, and freedom from the shackles of responsibility. It was too tantalizing- and all took form in this obstreperous woman. It was too easy to fall into her lips, in the vast blackness of the uninviting night.

[its-morphin-time-xiv]

Sleeping Among Sleepless

(Mood)

|| Mentions || @motherlymedic, @thavnairian-phoenix ||

A kiss, the scene playing in her head again and again and again as she lay there. A kiss from a woman that she held so close and so high. That woman, her own healer, her own friend, her very own love. Ever since Starlight’s eve, the little hyur had figured their relationship had strained far more than it could have held. She knew that she overstepped her boundaries that night, she pushed her partner to the limits of their comfort and she paid the price for it. And all for what?

To be selfish. She knew she needed to stay still, to relax, to sit down and not push herself. But she did it anyway. She wanted to dance, to dance with her. She wanted to hold her close in front of everyone, to show that the were together. She bloody wanted it all in that holiday party, she wanted to have all she ever wanted with her. All it lead to was pushing the woman she loved to her limits just to selfish, having her storm out and leave her by the wall, alone.

[More under the cut!]

But she came back weeks later, or rather, she called Bella over the pearl. Beckoning her to come to Haven where Althea’s gift awaited her. That scene was the gift, a loving and tender kiss as she found herself held close while being administered a dose of serum concocted to counteract what made her numb, what made her impossible to heal with aether.  But at the sight of a syringe, she were plunged back instantly into the memories of how she became so wounded, so pained. Whisper Ridge and all it’s horrors that lay within that aquatic facility.

Her one eye shuttered closed with the faintest smile drifting along her face while she lay wrapped up within the covers. This memory, overtaking everything and anything in her mind, the terrible memories of that dreadful dive into the dark facility alone were overcome by the warmth of that very moment in time. It was better than anything she could imagine.

Yet as she lay there, memories being covered, she tossed and turned. Her body shuddering as a hand idly… and constantly began to rub at her thigh where the syringe had entered her body. The serum itself having already dispersed into her system. Her blood was tainted, tainted by an ever lingering pestilence of experimentation from Imperial efforts that remained hidden from everything.

Bella grit her teeth in her sleep, grinding as she quietly tossed and turned, her body reeling in the most subtle of margins as the very strain of her being was being rewritten, just as it had done moons ago. As she slept with a pleasant memory and her body churned its insides seemingly endlessly, her mind drifted back into where every Ranger goes when they fall to slumber. The Dreamscape.

Here, she found herself sitting along a crystalline shore beside a large Demon, his body massive like a Roegadyn male, his back open and exposed while he wore a white toga, wings stretching out from scaled skin. A hand scratching along a scaly beard, yellow glowing eyes glancing toward her direction with a gentle smile.

“T’would seem… our time together in bond, comes to an.” There was… reluctance among his deep rumble of a voice. The gentle smile turned to a visible frown as he watched a peculiar necklace on her form visibly stutter, threatening to dissipate and fade away into nothingness. The necklace along Bella’s neck was of stone, pearl and bone. A red thread ran through each piece delicately, small beads of crystal and gem sat housed in bone and stone while pearls remained ornate with engravings along every inch of their being. Scrawlings of ancient text and proverbs from a tongue of the cosmos beyond this star and the next.

It was.. Special, it meant so many things between them, especially their bond through magic, signifying as Ranger and Demon, a Knight and its nightmare, as some would say. It had been decades of placed trust and faith within the other to guide themselves forward in a Ranger’s battle against the darkness.

“While our specific bond is altered.. It is not cut nor over. Our fates remain tied… as part of your Scholar’s ‘Deal’ with me… and then… her subsequent bonding with the Morpher. I am with her now. As are you.”

He smiled at that, the simmering of heat escaping his barely parted lips via a light smoke. The rumbles against the earth came as he began to chuckle some, toying with the thoughts of what he had just said.

“A… passing of the torch. As some would say.”

“I… Always wondered what would happen to… all of this.” Belladonna spoke up after, sighing softly as her eyes gazed out to the ever expanding horizon before her before turning back to see the mountain island behind her. “It’s.. going to stay like this?” “As long as you both wish it… yes.”

“I think she’d keep it, it’s…. Familiar.” The little hyur spoke with a proud tone, confident in every word.

Sotto tilts his head back, spine arching as he erupts into a thunderous laughter, his wings stretching out to the sides, the left one covering Bella in the cover of his wing. Her hand gently grazed against the sand and crystalline shoreline before brushing fingertips against scaly skin, her hand moving to rest within his palm. Clawed hand moving to closer around hers to give a gentle and comforting squeeze.

Along the edge of the shoreline, heavy metal claws thumped and dragged themselves through the white sun-kissed sand. Heated gurgles and steam began to pierce the air as large metal green eyes gazed forward onto the two sitting down. Red long claws of iron grasped outward, trying to reach them with a low chirp. Each step forward was heavy staggering as it slowly reached a spot behind both Bella and Sotto.

The metal armor’s pace began to slow as it reached the two sitting on the beach. With a grunt and gurgle, the Beast shifted onto its knees seamlessly as it began to crawl closer towards them. Steam visibly rising up out of their metal maw, their blank ironcast eyes gazing ahead before the Beast reached its goal, and then simply fell flat on its face with a dull thump.

Bella turned back just enough to see the red metal armor lay flat on its face, its iron scales shuddering, emulating breathing as steam lightly billowed out from its body. Sotto glanced over as well, just in time to see the armor flail about against the ground, snarling, huffing and pushing itself against the sound like a wild animal picking up a scent by rubbing its entire self against it.  

Sotto let out a puff of smoke from his nostrils following a snort of laughter.”T’would seem our… ‘other’ has finally reached exhaustion.” His glowing eyes glance over to the mildly flailing armored beast as it let out a heated grunt and snort before falling flat once more, audibly panting from its own tiredness.

“Oh-- while it arrives… I do have some.. Information for you and yours. A matter of.. Revelation, I suppose. Your kind always pondered and wondered, but you never pushed for the answer you so desperately searched for.”

“We… are not of the void. This I know you deduced… your kind.. Always did have a fascination, a wonder… a hunger to know of our truth. But you never looked in the right places.” He mused with a low laugh. “Our home is… long gone, but it was never of what you call… the Void.”

With a smirk, the demon slowly let his wings stretch outward and let its reach cover all three bodies, nodding. As he did so, Bella turned to see herself with a small smile, her hand reaching over now to brush against the Monster’s head. Through pure instinct, the Beast grunted, flinching against the ground slightly before going still. Like a miracle, the armor visibly shuddered, starting to break away and fall to dust against the sand. Yet as it fell away, the dust began to shift, flowing like a water’s current towards Sotto, vanishing into his body.

As the armor left the body, it left another hyur in its wake, another Belladonna, as it were. Her face filled relief as she too began to fall into dust, her own current flowing into the woman beside the Demon. “Guess… she’s gone now… yeah?”

“Not.. quite. She… or rather… that part of you will always exist. Her memories were always ever yours, and.. She will be here.. In your mind… but not with the strength it had before. The “hunger” it carried on your body is no more… Do enjoy a large meal, hm? For us both.”

The demon sighed with a smile upon his lips, glowing eyes gazing outward to watch a perpetual sunset against the shimmering horizons. As they both looked yonder, the necklace around Bella’s neck continued to shimmer, gently fading away into nothingness. As it did, several old scars along the midlander’s body began to slowly fade, leaving behind only traces of their presence with lightly colored skin as if they were to have been ‘healed’ over time, instead of remaining in constantly damaged states.

In reality, beyond the dreamscape, Belladonna’s person saw those very same changes. The tattoos along her body that danced elegantly with her scars visibly changed as the ink altered their positions to accommodate the loss of prominent scars. Her skin gained goosebumps as the gentle breeze that swept through slightly ajar seaside windows brushed against her skin, causing her to shudder for the very first time in a long while…

Shaking ever so slightly, a hand found itself pulling the covers over her person,a motion so normal yet… so alien to her. The other gently moved down to where Althea had placed the syringe and then it would glide across silken soften sheets to reach the warmth across from her, shimmering white hair and sunkissed skin that radiated a fire’s welcoming warmth.The ghosts of a smile could be seen along the corners of both of their lips as her touch came.  

Without exchanging a word in the sleep morning, both knew that Bella was getting better, both knew she could feel the phoenix’s warmth against the cold winter morning as they both lay together. They both knew that the coming days felt promising.

“How do you feel?” a thick Thavnairian accent came low and easy.

“Sleepless.. But.. I can feel you there..”

[End]

[When one chapter ends, another yet still begins]

[bnhafanboysstory-blog]

Chapter 2: Anxiety

Saying Ryūsuke was nervous was an understatement. He stared up at the enormous building and gate that stood before him, his parents on either side of him along with Mocha on his right. His father, Preston, gently pushed Ryūsuke so that he’d begin to make his first few steps towards the school. Today would technically just be an overseeing of the class he’d be learning in when he wasn’t under the watchful eye of Recovery Girl. The blonde Japanese-American male was a big ball of energy underneath a calm and collected exterior and he couldn’t wait to meet the kids he’d be healing, to meet one of his online friends, the support department chick that’d be showing him around for the next three weeks, and most of all to see his best friend and boyfriend after a long eleven years. Entering the building was similar to the feeling of walking into a rather large home, to Ryūsuke at least; overly grand yet had a new air surrounding it. In front of him and his parents stood four figures; a girl with rosy pink dreadlocks and a messily put together outfit, a small bear-rodent-thing wearing a white dress shirt and a pair of black slacks along with a red tie and black vest, an older woman who was carrying a rather large syringe shaped cane, and finally a male with facial hair who looked sleep deprived and was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and matching pants with a utility belt around his waist while a grey scarf hung around his neck.

‘Ah,’ he thought. ‘They must be the principal, my guide around the school, and my mentors for my classes.’ Ryūsuke’s eyes glanced at each of them while his parents greeted the others. “Hello, I’m Kanoko Padilla and this is my husband Preston. I apologize if my husband doesn’t talk much, he’s still getting a grasp on how to write and speak Japanese after a few years on not using it, though he can understand it moderately well.” His mother said coolly. He loved hearing his mother speak in her native tongue; she has always sounded kinder and softer whenever she spoke Japanese especially since she insisted on teaching his siblings Japanese until they were just as eloquent in it as they were with English or Korean in the sake of his adopted sister. “Ah, that is perfectly fine, my dear! Welcome, welcome to U.A. I am Principal Nedzu. You must be Ryūsuke! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” the principal said, his voice full of glee. Ryūsuke gave a minute smile before speaking himself. “Good morning, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Thank you for allowing me to get my training here under you rightly esteemed nurse, Recovery Girl.” He grimaced internally at his tone and phrasing but could see amusement radiating through each of those in front of him causing him to loosen up on the critique of his communication with authoritative figures. “Of course! It’s a pleasure to have you at this wonderful institution. Now, this young lady here is Mei Hatsume.” Nedzu said, gesturing to the girl with pink dreadlocks. Mei seemed reasonably steampunk-ish to Ryūsuke but he was admittedly amused by this fact. ‘She’d get along great with ‘Toshi.’ He thought as he put a hand out to greet her. “Hello! Welcome to U.A., new friend! I do hope that we will become close during our time together.” Mei shouted, full of pep though she unmistakably seemed like she was holding back. Ryūsuke looked back towards his mom with a small smile and a look of tenderness in his eyes before he turned back to the pink haired girl. Mei was wearing a plain black tank top and baggy cargo pants, a jacket tied casually around her waist, with a pair of red and gold steampunk goggles on her head. “Same here, Hatsume-chan. I do have to ask though, do you like tinkering?” After he said that the salmon pink haired teen lit up even more. “Oh yes, I do! I love working on more and more of my babies. The best way for me to get noticed by companies is to work, work, work!” The girl said everything about her seemed to cheer up. “Babies? I do believe you’re referring to your work, aren’t ya?” “Ah yes!”

Nedzu cleared his throat before continuing with the introductions. “This here is Shōta Aizawa. He’ll be teaching you how to fight without depending on your quirk and overall be your homeroom teacher despite you being a second year.” Ryūsuke looked over to Aizawa before approaching him and moving to shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Sensei. I’ve heard plenty of you from Principal Nedzu but also my boyfriend. I do look forward to being your student.” he stated, calmly. Aizawa raised an eyebrow at the mention of his new student’s boyfriend but shook his hand regardless. “I’m going to assume your boyfriend is a student of mine, Padilla?” Aizawa’s voice was gruff and seemed tired, almost as if he was constantly in a state of perpetual tiredness. Ryūsuke nodded. “Denki Kaminari. Oh, and just so you know he’ll more than likely allow you to introduce me to the class but he will want to admittedly want to run up and hug me. He and I have known each other for years, practically our whole lives, but he hasn’t seen me face to face in eleven years. With all due respect sir, please don’t get on his case if he suddenly runs up to me.” Shōta narrowed his eyes but gradually nodded. “I’ll allow him some time to do whatever but if he goes over what I deem enough time then he’ll get punished. And don’t go making a habit of disrupting my teaching either. Dating or not, I won’t tolerate any kind of disruption.” Aizawa said sternly just to earn a nod in agreement.

“And last but certainly not least is your mentor, Recovery Girl,” Nedzu said lastly, gesturing towards the older woman. Recovery Girl hobbled in front of Ryūsuke, Mocha put her body in between her handler and the stranger. “Shhh, it’s okay Mocha. She already knows, girl.” the lilac tipped teen whispered softly in English to the German Shepherd-Border Collie mix dog, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. “Glad you could make it, dear. This is Mocha, I assume? Your service dog, correct?” Aizawa and Mei watched the dog almost curiously as they both noticed the vest she was wearing. “Yeah. She helps me make sure I take my meds amongst other matters. Everything I’ll need day-to-day will always be in my bag, so you don’t have to worry about any of that, Ma’am.” Ryūsuke explained while the older woman listened attentively to everything he stated before the boy turned to Aizawa. “And Aizawa, I will make sure that she doesn’t distract any of my classmates both inside the classroom and while training.” Aizawa nodded before asking, “Just so that I know, what is it that you have that requires you to have a service dog and are the papers for her with you at all times?” “Generalized Anxiety Disorder, sir, and yes. I make sure to carry them with me at all times along with a copy currently being made so I can carry them on me as a hero.” The thirty-one-year-old man raised an eyebrow before nodding in astonishment. “Smart kid you have, Mr. and Mrs. Padilla, he’ll make a fine hero. I would have never thought to have a copy of the paperwork for my hero costume, quite the intelligent thing to do.” Ryūsuke looked down at the ground, a small timid smile making its way onto his face as he continued to pet his service dog. “Thank you, Aizawa. We appreciate the sentiment and we just know that your help along with the help of the rest of the U.A. staff our son will make a stellar hero.” Preston Padilla said kindly through his broken and accented Japanese.

The long-haired male gave a curt nod in response before bending down a bit to allow Mocha to sniff his fingers, Recovery girl repeating the action. Mocha hesitantly sniffed the two’s fingers before licking both of their hands as a form of peace. “Now that we are all acquainted, Aizawa and Recovery Girl, why don’t you both take young Ryūsuke to go meet class 1-A? Ms. Hatsume, please return to class for now. I will let Power Loader know when you are needed again. Mr. and Mrs. Padilla, please follow me and we can talk in my office over some tea.” “Oh please Principle Nedzu, call us Preston and Kanoko.” Ryūsuke heard his mother say before she gave him a kiss on his temple and following after the rodent-like principle. His father chuckled softly as he shook his head before patting his son’s shoulder and following after his baby blue-haired wife. Mei smiled brightly at the tall blonde teen before giving him an energetic wave before she skipped back to her classroom. Ryūsuke smiled as he stood back up and adjusted his brown messenger bag before following after his two teachers to the classroom that held class 1-A with Mocha walking beside him. Soon he found himself in front of a very large door that had ‘1A’ printed on it. When Aizawa opened the door, all the commotion in the room halted. Dead silence filled the room as Recovery Girl and Aizawa entered, but not yet Ryūsuke himself.

“As I told all of you earlier, we will be having a new student. They will periodically be in this class but will mostly be training under Recovery Girl. They are an older student, granted not by much, so they will be given more work than you all and have larger expectations though you all already have high expectations from myself and my fellow teachers. They also are still listed in this class and will be training alongside each of you but is technically not my student. That is why no one has been kicked out and replaced. Now that that is over, please come in Padilla.” Aizawa announced, voice firm as ever since Ryūsuke has met him in person this morning. The tall blonde nudged his service dog to encourage her to begin moving before him as he started into the room gaining a few gasps from the pupils he would be treating throughout the year and more than likely in the future. As he got to the center of the front of the room, he cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hello, I’m Ryūsuke Padilla and this here is Mocha. Please take care of me this year and the years to come. If you have any questions for me or Mocha, I have no problems answering them.” He introduced, voice dark yet warm. He could already tell that a few of his classmates were a tad unsettled or intimidated by him. Nobody moved for a second before a male with blue hair and glasses raised his hand. When the new student acknowledged him, he stood and began to speak in a rather uptight and formal tone. “With all due respect, pets are not allowed on campus and the clothes you are wearing are not appropriate for school. Ignoring the rules of this prestigious institute is considered insulting to this establishment and unbefitting of a U.A. student.”

Ryūsuke raised an eyebrow before he began to snicker. “What’s your name real quick?” he asked, amusement noticeable in his speech. “Tenya Iida.” The fellow teen responded, voice tight and formal. He was annoying this Iida kid and this was incredibly clear to everyone in the room. “Well Iida-kun, Mocha here is my service dog. She is a registered and trained PSD or in better words Psychiatric Service Dog. As to the inevitably asked reason as to why I have a service dog, I have GAD or Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Mocha is here to help me with everything that comes with having it. If any of you want to know in more detail about what she does to help me, please wait until lunch.” He said knowingly before continuing. “As for my wardrobe, today I'm currently just observing and allowing Mocha to get to know all of you and to get a grasp of the surroundings. My first official day is tomorrow.” Tenya flushed a little before nodding in recognition and sitting back down. Nobody made a move to ask another question before a hand belonging to a boy with green hair and freckles suddenly shot up. “Yes, …?” Ryūsuke said calmly, allowing the male to say his name. “Izuku Midoriya. W-what’s your quirk? I-i mean, I assume it has something to deal with healing considering you're learning under Recovery girl… B-but could you explain how it works?” Midoriya had asked loudly but still quite timid sounding as if he was scared of offending his new classmate. “Well Midoriya-kun, my quirk is called Lightsing. A carbon copy of my mom’s quirk but unlike my mom, I don't have to be in direct contact with the person I’m healing though they do have to be in a certain range,” The blonde started, his voice showing admiration for his quirk and almost giving off the air of adoration for the said Quirk. “Essentially Lightsing is a healing based quirk that also has a weak defense. The defensive part of it is really only enough to protect me and those I’m healing. Overall, though, my quirk works by using any form of music that I myself make such as humming or singing to which it then uses electricity to heal wounds. The only real drawbacks of my quirk are that in order for me to heal anybody, I need to sing or hum a song linked to the person or persons and that it can make me pass out or make me extremely exhausted. Basically the reverse drawback of Recovery Girl’s quirk.” Everyone nodded in understanding as they listened to Ryūsuke talk about his quirk and Midoriya began to make notes on the new student’s quirk.

Sero smiled a bit before raising his hand to which Ryūsuke instantly recognized him and smirked a bit. “Yes, Sero?” He playfully growled; the blonde male in front of the class knew that he’d say one of two questions and was prepared for either one to come all the while ignoring the scattered gasps that rang out in the classroom. “Firstly, hey man! Good to finally meet you in person. Secondly, who’s your favorite Japanese Pro Hero?” The lanky teen had a proud and snarky smile on his face as he asked the question but he knew it’d gain him a laugh from his friend’s boyfriend. “You already know this and the same goes with Princess but the rest of your classmates don’t know this. My favorite Pro Heroes, since I truly only have two and they’re both tied as my number one favorites, are Eraserhead and Midnight. Ironically.” Ryūsuke said, chuckling softly to himself as another two hands shot up. One was of a guy with red hair and sharp teeth while the other was of a girl who seemed frog-like. “Girl with green hair can go first.” The Japanese-American said decisively. “Padilla-kun, pardon me for asking but who is the person you referred to as ‘Princess’? I’m Tsuyu Asui by the way.” Asui said and Ryūsuke himself could tell that she didn’t want to assume anything of him. He gave a reassuring smile to her before saying, “I’ll answer that in a second but I have a feeling Kirishima is going to ask something similar. Go ahead.” “Uhm, h-how do you know Sero and how do you know my name?” The sharp-toothed male asked, quite unmistakably confused. “So to answer you both, ‘Princess’ is a nickname I have for my boyfriend and he knows you both fairly well. I will admit I recognize a majority of you but I don’t remember all of your names.” Ryūsuke said, rubbing the back of his nape while deadpanning slightly.

It seemed that everyone was done asking questions now and when the teen at the front of the class let his eyes land on his boyfriend, he noticed the eccentric blonde was eyeing down the long black-haired Pro Hero to his right and seemed about ready to fly out of his chair to jump onto his boyfriend. This gained a snicker out of Ryūsuke, a sigh from Aizawa, and confused looks from the rest of the class. “You get two minutes, Kaminari. Use them wisely.” The older male said, sounding completely done with life. Denki didn’t hesitate to launch himself out of his seat to glomp Ryūsuke, proceeding to scare the shit out of his peers. The dirty blonde-haired guy grinned as he hugged his boyfriend in front of the entire class, the two teens slowly turning in a circle while Mocha wagged her tail when noticing Denki. “Do you wanna reveal to them that we’re dating now or another time, Princess?” Ryūsuke whispered into Denki’s ear, making sure that what he said was in English. His smaller boyfriend seemed to think about it before nodding and mouthing ‘now’ before pulling back to kiss the taller of the two teenage boys on the lips. Once again, gasps surrounded the classroom as they watched the two kiss. Kaminari was extremely flustered but seem happy and proud of himself as he finally pulled completely away to greet the service dog. “Can I pet her even though she’s on duty right now, Ryū?” Everyone was still in shock and seemed further astounded when Padilla had responded with, “You know you’re not supposed to but I’ll let it slide, for now, Princess. I don’t want you getting in trouble because Mocha and you want to shower each other in love. Especially since this is her first time meeting you in person.”

“You’re dating the bootleg Pikachu?!” They heard a brash voice scream out as Denki crouched down. Ryūsuke’s eyes narrowed at this particular voice. “Why yes, I am Katsuki Bakugō. Now start respecting my boyfriend or you’ll have another thing coming during training.” The Japanese-American male said glowering at Bakugō while his boyfriend disregarded the entire thing in favor of petting Mocha, who loyally stayed next to her handler and enjoyed being pet. “Okay, enough Padilla. Both of you sit down so I can begin class.” Aizawa stated roughly, earning him two nods as  Kaminari went to his seat and Ryūsuke guided Mocha to his new desk in the classroom. Recovery Girl nodded in acknowledgment to her new student than to her colleague before going out the door to her office. As the newest 1-A student sat down, his Border Collie-German Shepherd mix service dog lied down on the floor underneath his desk before class began.

[tiredoftonkies-blog]

Steve putting on concealer. Damn. That sounds really sad if you imagine Steve doesn't want to worry Sam and his team in the Raft and dabs the worst of it out and changes clothes. I think the high of the rescue would give way to just tiredness and relief later.

Concealer before the rescue I mean. And yeah the continuity. I think grade school students are expected to have more coherent plots than MCU movies. (Not that CW anon btw)

yeah, it’s just.. a weird continuity error and it bugs me a lot lol. i can understand him wanting to get bucky to safety before rescuing the others, since bucky lost his neurologically-connected arm and has been through A Lot and also steve would, y’know, probably want to gather some intel if possible + form a plan and rest before launching a rescue… so it weirded me out a bit (but also impressed me) that he apparently went to the raft practically immediately after siberia. part of me likes that but on the other hand i’m now perpetually bothered by the inconsistency between the comic and movie, rip

the mcu really sucks with continuity sometimes. so many people work on stuff for this universe and yet apparently they don’t have some kind of… continuity checker. kind of surprising considering how many people there are that pay way too much attention to all the little details, you’d think they could find someone lol. oh well. i try not to let it bug me too much but it’s just kind of frustrating that it seems to happen so often with such a massive franchise, y’know?

[courageousguise]

Tired

Words: 1782 Rating: T

Dealing with these balloons of itself wasn’t too hard, but Link kept finding himself getting tired nonetheless. He was glad that he’d gotten his bow and shield back recently, both of them pretty handy- both for shooting down the white balloons and defending himself from the black ones.

It really hadn’t been hard for Link to get points, either. Given his own experience, he was a pretty good shot- hitting balloons was easy compared to some of the other stuff he’d had to do. Maybe they were smaller targets, yeah, but they were manageable.

The black balloons were far more annoying and troublesome with how he had to keep running from them, but he could handle himself well enough. Being short had its rare advantages, he supposed- ducking around and running past was a bit easier than some of the taller people around were faring.

This whole situation… was stressful. To be perfectly blunt, it was very stressful. Link of course would give no indication of that, he never liked showing any sort of weakness that would cause someone to worry for him, but it was. And the lack of sleep would get to him, as much as he tried to insist he didn’t need it.

It was times like these where he wished he had the all-night’s mask back. It was one of the masks that Tatl had found the creepiest- she’d of course made sure he knew that any time he wore it. It’s useful, he told her each time. I don’t need to sleep.

Of course, it was more akin to a band-aid applied to a stab wound than any sort of actual solution to the greater issue, but it had been helpful. He could stay up as long as he needed, without feeling tired at all.

You’re going to get yourself killed, Tatl had always complained. That mask is creepy. Take it off. Where did that guy even get it from? I don’t trust it.

He could still hear her complaints in his mind, able to picture the way she looked when voicing her thoughts in perfect clarity. She’d fly right up in his face, almost touching his nose, and he’d always back up a little bit. She was so… blunt, was a good word for it. She always said exactly what was on her mind.

Strangely enough, at times like these, he found he really missed that about her.

Perhaps it was just due to the perpetual tiredness he’d experienced in Termina, but whenever it got particularly bad here he found himself missing her more than usual. She’d nag and complain and was rude to him sometimes, but she’d still looked out for him. She’d been kind, in her own way. She just wasn’t terribly great at showing it.

“Go to sleep.”

Link raised an eyebrow at Tatl’s sudden command, before shaking his head.

“Do you really think you’re going to get anything done like this? You need to sleep.”

Again Link shook his head, which only seemed to irritate her. She could get as mad as she wanted, though- Link didn’t feel like sleeping. He had to wait to talk to Anju anyways, so why risk missing their meeting?

“You can talk to her next cycle! You’re practically a zombie right now- you’re creeping me out. You need to sleep.”

‘But I promised I’d meet with her. I can’t let her down.’

“Do you think it’ll matter if you fall asleep on the third day and that thing crashes into the town? You need to get to sleep!”

‘No. I made a promise. I’m not making her wait for me.’

Link wouldn’t hear anything further on the subject, waiting until the time that Anju would be in the kitchen. This wasn’t the first time he’d delivered her letter, and it wasn’t going to be the last, but a promise was still a promise.

Even if she’d forget, he wouldn’t.

So he wouldn’t break his promise.

He blacked out for just a few minutes past midnight on the final day as the exhaustion caught up to him, waking up in time to see Tatl flying anxiously above him. As soon as he opened his eyes she’d flown right into his face, tiny hands making fists as she hit at his cheeks, but he could hear the tears in her voice.

“You idiot! This is why you need to sleep! Play the song, right now! We’re going back, and you’re going to that inn. No buts!”

Normally, Link would’ve wanted to argue, to reason that he would be fine- but he didn’t. Not when he could see her light wavering, not when he could feel her hands shaking as they’d come to rest against his cheek. He’d worried her, hadn’t he?

He played the song of time and went right to the inn, just as Tatl’d said, and sat down on the bed in their room.

“Sleep. Now.”

‘I’m… not tired.’

“Not tired?!”

He looked away this time as she flew right up into his face, not wanting to look at her. But that only made her more upset, and she refused to let him look away.

“How could you not be tired?! You look like you haven’t slept in a year, and for all we know that’s true.” Neither of them kept track, after all. It would’ve probably driven them both insane to know how many times they’d repeated those same three days. “Why don’t you ever sleep, anyways? What do you have against it?”

‘I just… don’t like it.’ Link bit at his lip, not really wanting to explain further. He didn’t want her to know about the nightmares, so the less he slept the more likely she’d never find out. ‘I don’t like sleeping.’

“That’s not an answer. Why don’t you sleep? I’ll wake you up, you know. I have a good internal clock.” She gave a dry laugh, and Link couldn’t help but join. That was something he could agree with- it felt like he’d gotten very good at knowing exactly what time it was. Repeating the same three days on endless loop would do that, he figured. “You can trust me. You should trust me. For as long as you’re here, we’re partners. Remember?”

‘I know.’ And he knew he couldn’t have done this without her. Yes, perhaps it’d sorta been her fault to begin with, her and Skull Kid and Tael- but he would’ve gone mad having to do everything here alone. As strong as he was, having to deal with Termina on his own would’ve most likely broken him. ‘I know.’

“Then just trust me with something for once, won’t you? You never share anything!”

Link wanted to retort, to mention that she hardly shared much either, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel like bringing that up would do much aside from make Tatl more upset. But just saying nothing wouldn’t solve things- Tatl didn’t take kindly to being ignored.

‘I don’t… sleep well.’

“Who can, in times like these? Is that all it is?”

‘That’s not it. I get… nightmares.’

“…oh.” Tatl seemed awkward at that, not really sure what to say or do. She was like that often, he’d found- he’d say something, and she’d immediately get awkward. “W-Well, uh… either way, you still have to sleep. I’ll be here, though. I need sleep too.”

‘I’ll try not to wake you up…’

“Th-that’s not what I meant.”

Link tilted his head, unsure what else she could mean, but she didn’t offer any further explanation.

Try as he might, Link was genuinely exhausted, and he found himself falling asleep soon enough. Tatl had decided to rest on his hair, and soon enough they were both asleep.

“Hey! Hey, wake up! Link!!”

“…Na…vi… ?”

Opening his eyes slowly, Link found himself looking at a fairy- Tatl. Not Navi, he should’ve known it wouldn’t be Navi, but for just a few moments she’d reminded him so much of his old friend.

“Finally, you’re up. You looked like you were having a nightmare… and, it’s been a full day. You should eat something. You’ll pass out again if you don’t eat.”

He could hear from her tone of voice that there was something more she wanted to say, but for whatever reason she refrained. He didn’t have any problem with eating though… even if Anju wasn’t the best cook, it was better than nothing.

After a few moments Tatl landed on his head, walking around on his hair. She liked to pace sometimes, he’d learned.

“Also. You need to sleep more often.”

‘But-‘

“No. I want you to promise me- sleep more often.”

‘But sleep gets in the way of getting things done. Seventy-two hours isn’t very long.’

“Then… we’ll have cycles where you don’t leave clock town. You can sleep or rest or whatever, but you don’t leave.”

‘Why?’

“Because we can’t have you passing out again! Do you know how scared I was- I mean, that was dangerous!”

‘…I’m sorry.’

“If you’re sorry, then promise me.”

‘…Okay. I promise.’

“Good.”

Link woke up, not feeling terribly rested, but finding that he instead only missed Tatl more now. He hadn’t meant to doze off- but he didn’t have the comfort of their ‘rest cycles’ anymore, not here. Granted, he’d take that over what happened in Termina… but he still didn’t like sleep very much. He still had nightmares, and he still felt it was better if he stayed up all night- safer. There was nothing he’d miss.

He at least knew what he’d miss whenever he’d taken a cycle to rest. Here? Here, he couldn’t know. Even with reassurance, it still made him anxious just to think about.

So for now, still, he tried to not think about it. Better to just keep focused on the events at hand, and not get lost in thoughts yet again. He was at least a better rested now, so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting distracted. He wouldn’t have to sleep again for a while, and he could tell himself that Tatl would be glad he’d gotten some rest.

Bow in hand, Link found himself running back into the pandemonium on the streets. He didn’t know what the minimum of points he’d have to get was, and wasn’t going to take the risk. The more points he could get the better, so he’d rack up as many as possible.

He’d tell himself it was like Romani’s balloon game, and try to forget the reasoning behind that, as impossible as it was. Anything to distract himself, and keep up focus.

At the very least, this game thing hopefully wouldn’t go on much longer.