#the implication they sleep in the same bed/room is everything to me

[basslinegrave]

i need more of whatever this is

[zeroeightzeroone]

stubborn - han jisung

love collection

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none

wc ~3k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"you're not hearing me at all."

you push yourself off the edge of jisung's bed, onto your feet and make your way around the room gathering the things you came with–which isn't much since he keeps some of your things in his dorm. fingers running through your locks; the state of your hair expressing the brewing frustration within you. what was supposed to be a lovely night sleeping over at jisung's turned into the two of you pushing each other's buttons.

you're quick to swing the door open and make your way into the hall but jisung's quick to follow you out. 

"baby, come on!" he calls, hot on your tail, "y/n!"

"leave me alone ji!"

jisung sneers, "you wanted me to communicate more! here i am! communicating but you're walking away!"

you stop, spinning around to face the boy so suddenly that your bodies almost collide. there, in the hallway of jisung's dorm, you're standing face to face, chests rapidly heaving from your uneven breathing, the rage radiating off your bodies. feeding off each other's emotions.

"yes. i wanted you to communicate more but," your tone stern as your eyes narrow up at him, "that also meant hearing me when i'm communicating something to you! listening to me–"

"please. i've been listening to you!"

"no you haven't! it's like i'm speaking into a void when i tell you that i miss you, ji! we've been together for six months, but i've barely seen you in the past few months."

"you know how my job is," jisung crosses his arms over his chest.

"i'm not asking for you to be attached at the hip. all I'm asking is to see you more than i do right now."

"my schedule doesn't work that way. i can't always find the time for you."

"you can't? or you don't want to?" you counter with your arms crossed over your chest.

jisung scoffs at your implication, "what are you talking about?"

"you can't make time for me or you don't want to make time for me?" you look into jisung's eyes, "when we first started dating you wou—"

"–my schedules have changed. they're not the same as when we first started dating," jisung reminds you, "it's not that easy."

"you said that before too!" you remind him, with a frown adorning your lips, "you said it wouldn't be easy, i knew that, but–"

"but?"

"but..." your eyelids flutter, harshly gulping down the lump in your throat as you hold back the tears threatening to brew, "do you not want to try? do you not want to see me?"

"you know it's not like that," jisung sighs, voice laced with exasperation.

"then what? what is it like then?" the tears fall anyway.

"you knew what dating me would be like."

you scoff as you roll your eyes, "you can't keep using that defense."

"am i wron–"

you're quick to cut jisung off, "–i knew that my boyfriend being an idol wouldn't be easy, that we wouldn't get the opportunity to see each other as much as we would like–"

"if you knew then," he shrugs, "what's this all about?" 

jisung's words come out colder than intended.

"this is about you not even trying to fit me in! you stopped saying 'i'll try', now its always 'i can't'!"

"excuse me? i haven't been trying? how can you say that i haven't been trying?"

"where's the effort then jisung? show me!" angry tears stream down your face, "all our texts show that i'm the one asking when you're free! that i'm checking up on you! i'm the one initiating everything."

"i'm here now, aren't i?" jisung waves his hands up and down, "is that not enough for you?"

"after today i'll probably see you in another couple of weeks, or even more than a month when i'm the one asking you to spend time with me! me! your girlfriend!"

"god, i can't do this right now," he runs a hand through his unruly hair, "i've got a ton of work left to do and this conversation is going nowhere."

"fine," you huff.

a few moments pass with neither of you making any moves, staring straight ahead. though you're both in each other's line of sight, your eyes don't meet. avoiding the other's fiery gaze.

your cheeks are flushed, your falling tears soaking the heated skin but you make no effort to swipe them away. your bottom lip is trembling—your whole body feels like it's trembling due to the overwhelming amount of emotion that rush through your veins that very moment. jisung pretty much mirrors you–minus the tears–the way his brows are knit together, slow and heavy breaths leaving his flared nostrils.

with a sigh of defeat, you turn on your heel, then make a beeline for the door. jisung watches you make your way to the front door, not once looking back at him as you swing the door open and shut it behind you. 

and not once does he stop you from leaving. 

the door shuts and jisung turns around, walking to his room where he flings the door shut behind him and pulls his headphones on. drowning out his surroundings as he tries to steady his breathing.

an hour or two passes and chan walks through the front door, expecting to see your shoes next to jisung's at the door or some other trace of you inside the dorm, but nothing catches his eye. curious, the curly haired boy peeks into jisung's room to see if maybe you'd both gone out but jisung sits there in his computer chair.

the brunette's still got headphones on, no knowledge that his hyung stands in his doorway. right as chan is about to shut the door, his eyes land on a short stack of clothes on top of jisung's dresser: your favourite shirt of jisung's and a pair of jisung's sweatpants. the sight has chan nodding his head as he slowly steps back and closes the door.

even without asking, it's clear something went on between the two of you. the clothes sitting on top of the younger boy's dresser are the same clothes you're given to wear whenever you stay over. they're jisung's clothes but he sets them aside just for you because he knows how much you love them. instead, the clothes are neatly folded and untouched. 

on the way to his own room, chan sends changbin and hyunjin a text, letting them know about the current atmosphere of the dorm. 

walking in through the front door of your apartment and locking eyes with your roommate, the surprise on her face is apparent. she wasn't expecting you to come home tonight as you said you'd be sleeping at jisung's before leaving. regardless of her surprise, the moment she registers the look on your face, she's rushing over to pull you into a bear hug. 

oh, there go the waterworks again.

your trek home from jisung's dorm was an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least. 

you would cry, be fine, see the smallest thing and cry once again. you had literally seen a dog across the street and the tears started falling once again.

standing near the front door, you're holding her tight as you cry into her shoulder. she doesn't ask what the cause of your tears are, instead she rubs comforting circles on your back whilst swaying your bodies back and forth. allowing you to let it all out, no questions asked. the look on your face when you walked through the door said enough for her. moments pass until eventually, you feel that you've cried enough.

"thank you," you say with a sniffle, pulling away from her.

she smiles, "i'm here if you want to talk, even if you don't want to talk about it, i'm still here."

...

its been three days since you and jisung have seen each other. 

if you were to ask any of your mutual friends to point out the traits you share with your boyfriend, other than the both of you being quite introverted. the top answer would be: stubborn.

were you both aware of how immature you were being, holding out hope that the other one would crack first? yes. of course.

it's just a matter of who is less stubborn and immature between the two of you.

jisung's holed himself up in the company building the past couple of days. most of his time is spent in chan's room or the dance studio (when he feels like moving) as he tries not to think about you.

keyword: tries.

you're all he can think about.

the brunette would be checking his phone to see if maybe you've sent something. jisung had gotten used to you sending him texts throughout the day but the past three days have been radio silent. he finds himself feeling incomplete without your random texts; feeling incomplete without you.

on the other hand, you've caught yourself almost texting or calling jisung first, holding yourself back for the sake of proving a point. albeit, in an immature manner, but a point nonetheless. just like your boyfriend, you're drowning yourself in work but it does nothing to get the boy with the cutest round cheeks out of your head. 

three days of radio silence seemed like more than enough, the longing for each other growing as the days pass. jisung misses your random messages about anything and everything, and you miss his random selfies throughout the day. 

you miss each other.

eventually, instead of the both of you being too hard-headed to admit defeat and initiate a conversation; the delay comes with the fact that neither of you know where or how to start. 

you and jisung have argued before, of course. it would be unnatural for no conflicts to have come up in six months of your relationship. however, it has never gone this far. 

with a deep breath, jisung raises his fist to knock at the door.

"hyung?"

from inside the room, chan hums. turning around in his chair as he calls for jisung to come inside. the door opens slowly, revealing jisung clad in sweats and a hoodie, sheepishly walking into chan's bedroom and taking a seat on the mattress. 

"what's up?" 

chan knows what's up. it's been quite obvious that something has been up with you and jisung for the past couple of days.

"i need some adv—... help. i need some help," jisung glances up at chan and back down, receiving another hummed reply from the older boy, "i fucked up."

jisung takes a deep breath, fingers toying at his sleeves.

"something happened between you and y/n, yeah?" 

jisung nods as chan leans back in his computer chair. with that, jisung begins rambling about the argument you two had while chan listens intently, mentally noting down points he believes to be significant. as jisung retells the exchange, he's reminded of the way you looked at him, the things you said to him and how he responded back to you. 

"i.. uh.. i don't know what to do," jisung's hands brush through his hair, elbows on his knees as he leans his weight forward, "i don't know where to start."

meanwhile, a floor down and a couple hours later, seungmin sits in the living room of his dorm on the phone with you. on your end, his voice comes through your phone speakers, filling your room.

"first of all, you two need to speak to each other."

"ok—"

"—i'm not done," seungmin hushes you, "how jisung managed to find someone as stubborn as he is, is beyond me but you're both stubborn as hell."

"... gee, thanks."

"you're welcome. you know it's true," even though he can't see you, you can't help but shrug with a small nod, agreeing with seungmin's statement. he continues, "but think about it like this. one reason you fought was because he wasn't prioritizing your relationship, right?"

"yeah?"

"what about right now?"

"huh?" 

"is the priority right now to be as hard-headed as possible to prove a point or…" seungmin drags out the last word, "is it your relationship with jisung?"

"my relationship."

...

"well, someone's up early," your roommate gasps when you walk into the kitchen.

you're fully dressed for the day, ready to go outside. usually this early in the morning you're still asleep, choosing to wake up right on time for work instead of earlier than needed.

"i thought you had a day off?" she muses, bringing the mug up to her lips and taking a sip of her coffee.

even before you entered the kitchen area, you could smell the fragrant aroma of coffee beans, filling the air the moment you walked out of your bedroom.

"i do," you nod, going to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate, not really in the mood for coffee.

"where ya' going?"

"i'm gonna go to the dorms," you turn around and lean against the counter, "talk to ji."

"woke up early to avoid the morning rush?" the soft smile on your face paired with the sigh says enough, "how are you feeling?"

you shrug, "a bit nervous... but i'm always nervous going into serious conversations."

she chuckles, "oh yeah. i remember the conversation we had when you wanted to be a potential roommate."

the memory has your cheeks flushing, throwing your head back in embarrassment. to this day, you don't know how she chose you instead of the other, non-embarrassing, applicants. right before your roommate leaves for work, you're exchanging a quick hug and then she's out the door. 

the longer you sit alone in the kitchen, stewing in your own thoughts, deliberating over the plan you've repeated in your head a million times; the more your anxiety heightens. prompting you to close your eyes before it can spill over the brim. you take a deep breath, trying to focus on your heartbeat.

the sudden knock at the door has your heart jump, the noise startling you. 

you glance out the kitchen doorway, spotting your roommate's house keys hanging on the rack next to the front door. shaking your head, you walk towards the front, unhooking her keys whilst you turn the knob with your other hand. 

she's always been quite forgetful.

with an amused smile on your face, you pry the door open.

"no wonder i didn't hear your keys when you left—"

you gulp, heart flipping in your chest.

its not your roommate. 

the words are caught in your throat at the sight of the man standing in front of you.

han jisung's here, inside your apartment complex and right outside your front door. the hood of his brown jacket is pulled over his beanie-clad head, and the bottom half of his face is covered by a mask but the nervousness is obvious as he awkwardly shifts his weight on his feet, eyes flickering around.

"can i come in?" he asks with a soft voice. 

you nod, stepping aside, giving jisung the space to walk through the front door then shutting it behind him. he discards his shoes at the door, before you're walking in front of him, leading you both into the living area. the two of you take a seat on the couch, a couple inches of space between your bodies. awkward silence lingering in the air, neither of you knowing who should speak first.

jisung clears his throat and decides to take the leap.

his hands reach up to remove the mask and hood, "where.. uh.. were you going somewhere?"

referring to the denim jeans and hoodie you've got on. his hoodie.

"i was going… to see you."

jisung angles his body in your direction, blinking a couple of times as your gaze flickers towards him.

"... you were going to see me?" you nod, "but.. why?"

now you're turning to him, brows knit in confusion. what does he mean why?

"so we could talk about… you know..."

jisung is mentally smacking himself, "no-no, i know that but you shouldn't be the one going over there.. it should be me coming to you. to talk to you, to apologize to you."

"but i have things to apologize for too…" your hands play with the ends of the hoodie you're wearing, "i... i'm sorry that i made it seem like you don't put anything into our relationship. i hurt you by saying you aren't trying. i know you do, i know its hard with your schedule and all... i—"

jisung shakes his head, scooting closer, taking your hands in his own. the mere feeling of his hands on yours has your heart skipping a beat, your skin tingling under his touch. 

"honestly, i was hurt hearing you say i haven't been trying, putting in any effort," the pads of his thumbs gently caress your skin, "it's embarrassing to admit... but it did hurt my ego."

jisung's chocolate brown iris' swim with guilt and sadness. 

both emotions stem from his inadequacy as a boyfriend recently; hurting the person he cares the most about. its true that you don't realize what you've lost until it's gone, and he had a taste of it for the past three days. he doesn't want to be without you, never again. 

"i didn't see the mistakes i'd made, the ways i hurt you. instead, i hurt you more in that conversation, didn't i?" 

the way your lips press into a straight line is enough of an answer for him.

"i'm sorry," jisung squeezes your hands gently, "i'm sorry for not putting more effort into our relationship."

"you are—"

"no, i'm not," he shakes his head, "if i was then it it wouldn't have been brought up, and we wouldn't have had that fight."

"... mhmm."

"i kept saying you knew what you were getting into dating me," a bitter laugh slips from his lips at the memory, "but i also knew what getting into a relationship. god, i fucked up."

your stomach turns and your brain starts to scatter. overthinking about what jisung could say next, hypothesizing the worst-case scenarios.

"i knew that it wasn't going to be easy... that dating me is going to be a lot harder than it would be if you dated... someone else– someone that isn't a celebrity," his fingers fiddle with your own, "you knew all of that and still said yes to me, you still chose me?"

"of course, because i want you. no one else."

jisung's cheeks get rounder as his toothy smile widens at your words. he blinks quickly, snapping himself out of his quick daze and continues.

"i haven't been the best boyfriend lately, i know that..." his brown eyes lock with your own, "i'm sorry for how i hurt you that day... even leading up to that... i know i wasn't putting in that effort and there's no excuse for that, honestly. i haven't been fair to you."

"its okay."

"its not, don't say that, baby," jisung sighs, "i know i fucked up but i'll make it up to you. i promise! i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, i'll work harder on us... i'll find a... what is it? b-balance! balance! i'll work on communicating more... j-just be patient with me? i know you already are but—"

"—you're rambling," you cut him off, knowing if you didn't he'd just continue to talk in circles.

it's adorable, it's endearing.

but you take this opportunity to apologize in return, "i'm sorry too. i'm know i hurt you too that day. i could've found a better way to bring it up to you, talk to you about it but i didn't and i'm so sorry. i need to work on that, i need to work on a lot of things but… we'll work on us, together. it'll be hard but-"

"as long as we're together."

you nod, repeating his words, "as long as we're together."

jisung's hands move up to cup your cheeks, caressing the skin gently as your own hands are circled around his wrists. leaning in, he places a kiss onto your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls away. his chocolate brown eyes graze over your face with a delighted look, taking the time to memorize your features all over again, etching them into his brain as if it was the first time all over again.

starting with your eyes. your stunning eyes that bore into his own, jisung finds himself entranced by them and the way they sparkle when you're talking about your passions, the things you love. your eyes that smile whenever you laugh at his stupid jokes.

your nose, which you've repeatedly expressed your dissatisfaction with, but jisung finds absolutely adorable. the way your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when you're playfully glaring at him.

your lips. your plush, baby pink lips that jisung would kiss all day if he could, especially when you're in a pouty mood. the way your bottom lip juts out makes his heart flip. sometimes he finds himself staring at your lips, allured by the way they move as you speak.

you. you're absolutely breathtaking, beautiful. the most beautiful being he's ever laid his eyes on. the most beautiful being, inside and out that he will ever lay eyes on. he's convinced that nothing else, that no one else will captivate him, entrance him, amaze him the way that you do. the way only you do. its you, only you.

"i love you."

the three words, eight letters leave jisung's lips for the first time, directed to you, dedicated to you and you feel like you're levitating. the words, paired with the melodic vocal tone of the man sitting across from you has you breathless, the sound is intoxicating. you're addicted, so high and elated that for a moment, you wonder if you heard right.

"you..?" you're speechless.

jisung's face beams with happiness, his eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes at the sight of your own eyes that currently resemble a lost puppy; large, round and beaming up at him.

"it was like a part of me was missing over the past three days. the past three days i didn't have you, three days without you... three days where i got the taste of what life would be like if i lost you. you, y/n, are my heart," he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "i can't— i don't want to imagine a life without you, it would only be incomplete. i love you…"

jisung pauses, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to bite back his smile. 

"fuck… i'm so in love with you."

"han jisung," you press a kiss to his lips with a hum before pulling away ever so slightly. lips brushing against his as you speak, "i'm so in love with you. it's crazy."

[waywardcrow]

I’d do bad things with you.

Summary: The day after the wedding, Bucky and his new wife go to Stark's house to plan their next step because that's why they are married, right? Not because they love each other.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, implications of mafia kind of stuff but please remember all I know about this I learned from SoC and fics lol, allutions to death, mention of cheating and sex, lots of angst, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

All eyes on us <<<

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Bucky didn’t dare to say anything when his wife closed the door of the guest room, how could he? His dragă asked for one thing: help to protect her family.

That didn’t mean she owned him something, she was his wife but not his woman, not anymore.

If only he wasn’t so impulsive, if he weren’t so blind to recognize what he had in front on him, they wouldn’t be in this situation, their wedding wouldn’t be an arrangement, he would had ask her to marry him instead of trapping her.

Still, he had hopes, he would never give up in getting her back, and when Bucky finally did it, he would make up for the lost time.

Alone in her room, Bells felt the Barnes’ family ring heavy in her hand, not only for the rose diamond, it was heavy because she didn’t deserve it. She was well aware she only had it because she ended up being a Stark, there was no way this could ever happen to her being the mistress on turn for the Winter Soldier.

And even knowing it, she missed those times.

Everyone that worked in the restaurant knew she was sleeping with him, they also knew it was better for their tongues that she never heard them talk about it, Bucky made an example of the first and only one who tried, a jackass named Julian who liked to make women uncomfortable.

After that, everyone turned a blind eye when Bucky when to the bar and talk to her for hours, when he called her to his office and she used disappeared in there to don't go back to work for the whole shift, they saw them going home at night, both being walking proof of the affair.

Her friends sometimes looked at Bells with concern; especially Kate but no one said a thing.

She would get in the car with Bucky who would try to convince her to stop working so he could spoil her and Bells would gave him the same answer, she only wanted him, not his money.

It was so stupid of her, to believe he could feel the same one day but how could she not think it when he played his part so well? Treating him like she was something delicate, something beautiful, she wanted to believe he could want her, love her.

That was why she spent most of the nights with him during the months her fantasy ran wild, she was even familiar with his men, Steve and Sam adored her, Scott, Thor and Clint were sweet with her, even the stoic Loki smiled sometimes at her jokes.

Bucky made her feel at home, she had free reign in the house except for his office and they found their routine very quickly.

Even in the nights Bucky couldn’t join her right after work, he would find her sometimes eating alone in the kitchen or taking a shower and he would made up to her, he was so tender with Bells, making her feel everything was right, maybe it was because she never had a real home and she craved it that she was so easy to fool.

After taking the dress off her and removing her make-up, the girl curled in bed, refusing to cry again for him.

“Good morning, dragă, I made breakfast” was the first thing Bucky told his wife in the morning. His wife, he would never get tired of saying it even if it was only in his head.

She looked beyond beautiful, the ivory set of pants and jacket hug her curves and he was loving the cleavage cut he could see from his place in the counter. His wife looked like what she was, a Queen.

“Don’t call me that, James” hearing his name on her lips hurt but he deserved it, at least she didn’t call him by his last name.

Their last name.

“Does my lady prefer any other nickname?” he asked without stop smiling, serving her coffee like he knew she liked it.

“I have a name, stick to it”

Her name was beautiful, both of them, the one her parents gave her and the one he met her with but she was the woman he loved, dragă was really appropiate.

“You used to love when I called you that, I don’t think I should change it if we want this marriage to be believable” he shrugged, knowing well why his wife didn’t like it anymore.

“We made a deal, Barnes” oh, James was gone “you will not make anyone believe this after we deal with our enemies”

She really did believe he would give up on her, which almost made him smile. His dragă still had to learn a few things about him.

“You should eat, Mrs. Barnes, we have to be at your brother’s house in half an hour”

Bucky was the least happy about working with Tony Stark, he supposed they could have been friends in another circumstances but he hurt his sister, if Natasha would ever did the same to Becca, Bucky would never forgive her.

Thor drove them to Stark’s mansion and Bucky hated how at ease his wife was there, that wasn’t her home, not anymore.

Russo and Castle were waiting besides Stark who hugged his wife and kissed her cheeks, taking her away from Bucky, leaving him scowling beside Steve and Sam.

“You look like you drank your weight in alcohol, Billy” she giggled and Bucky’s heartache increased, when was the last time he made her laugh? He couldn’t remember.

“Are you trying to tell me something, topolina?” Russo inquired with an offended look while they walked to Stark’s office.

“Yes, she means you look like shit Bill” Castle answered before his wife could and they all laughed but Russo and Bucky, Sam and Steve were too busy talking with Thor to notice. He watched as they took her inside the house bringing back her sweet personality, all the love she felt for them that made him mad watching the “proof” of her betrayal slapping him in the face once again.

Maybe Hydra staged all that but it was his fault, his own insecurities and ghosts were what made her hate him and he couldn’t see the way out of the mess he created, not when the scars that piece of shit gave her in his murder attempt were visible every time Bucky could see her arms.

“Are you ok Buck?” Sam asked quietly, his gaze following Bucky’s, his dragă was smiling at Pepper and Tony, touching her sister in law’s bump. He might never get that with her and if it wasn’t with her- Bucky knew it now, if it wasn’t her, it was no one.

“I’m fine, let’s go”

Pierce had endless resources, deals with powerful people, enough money to buy himself a kingdom, lots of people who would kill for him without hesitation but with all that, he had an Aquiles heel.

“We know he feels like he already won the reelection for Mayor but I’m not so sure” Bells projected a picture of a handsome man with dark hair. He had a kind smile and even the red sunglasses didn’t disminished his likable aura “Matthew Michael Murdock was born and raised in Hell’s kitchen, he graduated Columbia with honors with his best friend, Franklin Nelson, the current District Attorney and he was a champion of the people as a lawyer in his neighborhood despite he had multiple chances to work for a big firm, all of that changed when his soon to be wife, Karen Page, got in the way of Wilson Fisk”

Billy raised his hand as if he was in a classroom.

“Why does this sound like someone talking about their crush and how this helps us?” next to him, Maria hit him in the head and he yelped “I’m just saying!”

“She has a point, you would know it if you let Bells finish” his sister smiled at her friend “please go on topolina.

“Thanks Maria, you’re right as always” Bells winked at her and Maria blow her a kiss “Murdock it’s going to help us beat Pierce in the legal side and meanwhile dear Karen would help us convince him to let us give his campaign a hand” there was a mischievous grin in her face that Bucky had never seen before and it took everything in Bells to look away from him.

Pepper then cleared her throat and Bells took her seat, everyone looking at the ginger.

“Since Fisk got killed in jail, Miss Page got out of witness protection and Mr. Murdock reinforced his fight against the system from the political side” Bells helped her showing reports of Murdock’s popularity, his good press, all the people that supported him “we are going to destroy Pierce taking everything from him. Natasha and Yelena are working with Wanda and Maria to take more territory from him, Madani and Torres keep going after his most powerful lieutenants just like we talked about the last meeting.”

The map in the screen showed the comparison of the before and after, all the east side of the city that once was Pierce’s now it was all theirs, there were still parts resisting the change, it would have been quicker if the group didn’t tried to make the transition the less bloody as possible.

It wasn’t about power, even if it was what their line of work demanded, it was about revenge.

Pierce took something irreplaceable from each one of them, it would be only fair they’d leave him with nothing.

This time Bucky catched Bells eye and refused to let her go.

If not for Pierce, maybe they still would been together but maybe not, Bells was so afraid to tell him the truth about who she really was when Tony found her and it just added to the impending disaster they were, they would been living a lie, she would have been just the mistress, the toy on turn for someone that didn’t loved her.

Bells had to remind herself she didn’t need Bucky, she couldn’t, not after being the target of his cruelness, she couldn’t wash the memory of him fucking Jenna on his desk after telling Bells he loved her hours before.

She knew the truth now, she couldn’t forgive him, not when Bells’ heart was still aching for Bucky’s betrayal, for his lack of faith in her, for his lack of love towards her.

On the other side, Bucky was proud of her, his dragă was born to rule at his side and he didn’t care if he had to hunt Alexander Pierce himself, he would do anything to do this right.

If the murder of his father taught him something, it was that he wouldn’t fix anything feeling sorry for himself, Bucky had all the chances in the world to make amends and he would pay for every mistake with the blood of their enemies.

Tag list: learisa blackhawkfanatic queerqueenlynn calwitch pono-pura-vida

Hiya! This took me so long but it was only because I was stressing myself about it, then I decided to do whatever felt right and here we are! Also the nicknames I used here:

dragă: sweetheart.

topolina: little mouse.

Let me know what you think.

Love, Lily.

[deadhands69]

cursing each other over and over again [2/3]

MDNI

Super fluffy, mildly angsty but it gets smutty in the next one.

Toge Inumaki x cursed speech reader (not quite the same as his)

Warnings/content/etc: Toge Inumaki x reader, fem-bodied/no pronouns, unestablished relationship, swearing, light violence (slapping), kissing, slightly suggestive conversation, mentions of dub con, cursed speech use.

AU: Jujutsu University, all characters aged up.

part 1 - this is part 2 - part 3

Text key: 🖤 You 🤍 Toge

Even after clearing things up with Toge, you still felt weird about going to class in the morning. Sure, you talked things through with him but didn’t know what to expect from everyone else.

In addition to this, you're exhausted. You spent most of the night laying in bed regretting a chunk of the texts you’d sent him instead of sleeping. You particularly regret telling your crush you have no game and can’t even manage to talk to him. How embarassing is that?

He seemed to understand though. He has to, right? Dating with cursed speech of any kind isn’t easy. You can’t just walk up and strike up a conversation with someone you like. There’s also the weird dynamic shift when they realize you can control their actions. When you inadvertently force them to kiss you and you’re awkwardly trying to get out of it, knowing it’s not what they want, traumatizing you both in the process. Or worse, you could accidentally hurt them. That’s probably even worse for him. Maybe he gets it?

Anyways, what does two cursed speech users dating look like, you’d be cursing each other back and forth constantly. He probably doesn’t want that.

Stopping yourself, you can’t think about this all day.

On the walk across campus, you started trying some breathing exercises Gojo gave you when you first arrived. In addition to the usual homework, he also tasked you with learning to control your emotions. Fair. So far, you’ve found it easier some times than others. This morning wasn’t too bad until, in your distraction, you collided with Toge where two sidewalks intersect.

He says “kelp”, his eyes smiling. You wave and smile back.

Your heart is racing, but at least it’s no weirder than when you first met him. You walk together silently until you reach the classroom.

Immediately, Panda high-fives him as Maki smacks him in the back of the head. You take your seat as she continues to berate him. Yuta sits next to you asking about your evening. It would be nice, but you can tell he’s just pushing to see how things went with his friend. He moves seats as soon as Inumaki approaches.

Just before class is scheduled to start (okay, you have an extra five minutes every day because Gojo is consistently at least five minutes late) your phone buzzes.

🤍 [sorry if that was weird for you]

🤍 [i actually didn’t tell anyone we hung out]

🤍 [maki told the gc you left my room at midnight after i left everyone on read]

You look up to see Toge waiting to see how you'll react. 

🖤 [haha i mean it's fine]

🖤 [technically that’s true]

🖤 [but]

🖤 [there’s a solid implication there]

🖤 [at least rumor me is getting laid]

You look at him rolling your eyes to make it clear that was sarcasm, you’d correct people later. He laughs.

The rest of the week passes quickly. Lots of homework to catch up on and even more to learn. Wednesday, you got to go on a mission with Maki. Who, you are pleased to learn, is a lot more caring than she lets on. The two of you were able to take out a few grade 2 curses together fairly quickly. It felt great being able to use your technique for more than destruction. After, you got sushi and talked for a while. You talked about jujutsu sorcery, life, pretty much everything. Toge came up once but since that was nearly all anyone in your class had asked you about since you arrived, she didn’t drag the subject out.

By the time Friday arrives, you realize you haven’t had time to fully unpack and set your room up. You also hadn’t talked to Toge much more than in passing. 

Pulling your folded clothes out of boxes and hanging them in the closet, your mind wanders. He asked to hang out first, does he want you to reach out next? Is he just busy? Or did you scare him off? You only hung out once, just because you have a huge crush on him doesn’t mean he feels the same after spending some small amount of time with you. He still seems to want to be friends, at least. So it wouldn’t be too weird to ask to hang out this weekend. That’s not so bad. Looking down at empty boxes, you realize you’ve been spiraling longer than you thought. Maybe you should just text him.

Pulling your phone out, you hear a commotion down the hall. The clang of pots and pans on the ground, Panda’s oversized footsteps thumping down the hallway, Maki yelling and Toge screaming “CAVIAR!”

Or, maybe you should text him later. He sounds busy.

A scuffle of footsteps make their way closer to your cracked door. Maki pokes her head in, she’s covered in half cooked rice. 

As mockingly sweet as she can muster, “hey [y/n], getting set up?” 

You nod, pretending you didn’t just hear the chaos. 

“Need help with those shelves?” she says gesturing to a box you’d thus far neglected.

“Yeah, I -” 

“Perfect! Here, take this” she shoves a disheveled Toge through the door and slams it.

“I was just about to text you. But you sounded, uh, busy.”

You lean into the doorway to look him up and down, amused. He laughs and pulls a grain of rice out of his hair.

Hanging shelves goes fast with the two of you, he holds them level while you screw them in. And since you’re concentrating, you almost don’t notice how close the two of you are standing together. Almost.

You’re on the last one above your bed, it’s the biggest and it’s heavy. He shifts so his hands are on both sides of the shelf above his head, pressing you between the wall and him. This shouldn’t be weird, you tell yourself. It’s not like there’s a better way to hold it. No, this is how you have to do this. Telling yourself that doesn’t change that you can feel his chest pressing into you and breath against your neck. Nevermind that you were on the floor of his room rolling around before he bit you Monday, this felt. Different.

Distracted, you pause for a second to take it all in. The feel of his warm body pushing into you with every inhale. His arms flexing above you. He’s so strong to hold something so heavy. Oh, shit. Back to work.

With some fumbling, the last screw goes in and you’re done. You spin around to mouth “thanks” but Toge stays in place. Smiling down at you, his arms drop slightly from the shelf to the wall, still pressing you back. His smokey violet eyes connect with yours. You glance at the circles on his cheeks, visible since he took his jacket off shortly after arriving. Sliding his hands down further, he gently grabs your wrists and pulls you down to sit with him. Keeping the closeness: you’re still up against the wall with him leaning in. He smiles and you forget how to breathe. His hand brushes the hair from your forehead, sliding it behind one of your now flushed ears. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as he moves in closer.

BANG. BANG. BANG. 

“Inumaki!?” 

Wide eyed, he freezes: still leaning into you with one hand on the wall near your head and the other at your side. 

BANG.

“Panda cleaned my kitchen. If you’re done hanging shelves, come help me with the extra laundry you made!” you hear Maki yell.

“Salmon!” he grumbles, not fast enough. Another bang and your door cracks open, giving Panda and Maki a direct view of the two of you on your bed. In the background, you see a pretending-to-be-nonchalant Gojo passing by then double-taking back to look over their shoulders. 

Well, so much for dispelling rumors.

He begrudgingly stands up and walks to the door. 

You slump into your bed in both embarrassment and disappointment. You were so close. You glance back at them.

Holding one finger up for the three of them to wait for something, Toge shoos the other three away and closes the door. 

Returning to your bed, he crawls back to you, pressing his hand back to its spot on the wall behind you while bringing the other behind your head. Leaning in, without hesitation, he presses his lips onto yours kissing you feverishly. Your face melts into his and you completely forget about the group standing outside your door listening. He pulls back, pecks your lips once more, and smiles before grabbing his jacket and walking out. You lay there, too stunned to move. Your hand slides over your comforter and - wait, is that a grain of rice?

9:58pm - Friday

🤍 [not to ‘you up’ you but you up?]

🖤 [kiss me once and you’re looking for a bootycall now?]

🤍 [you know it]

🖤 [pshhh]

🤍 [nah]

🤍 [fr tho i need to talk to you]

🤍 [i wanted to earlier but Maki just set me free 20 minutes ago]

🤍 [and i had to wash the rice out of my hair]

🤍 [can i come by?]

🖤 [you’re not making the rumors any better, Toge…]

You’re pretty tired from getting your room set-up and finishing all of your homework but you know you definitely won’t get any sleep putting this conversation off. Hopefully he doesn’t think kissing you was a mistake. You don't think you used your cursed energy on him?

🖤 [but yeah]

🖤 [of course you can]

Quickly, you jump out of bed to change into something cuter. Still gym shorts and a t-shirt but at least these ones aren’t ripped or stained. You fix your hair before running to the knock on the door.

Toge walks in, looking around in awe of your room. The shelves the two of you put up earlier are now covered in books, plants, and color changing lights in the shapes of your favorite anime characters. He gestures at them and smiles. The dim lighting glows in a rainbow of colors that dance on his face. Taking a massive breath, he begins typing. Pausing, he erases what he wrote, puts his phone away, and unzips his jacket. Biting his lip, he turns to you. Is he about to say something?

Extending one finger, he slowly points at you then at himself. Still biting his lip, he shrugs his shoulders in a question. His eyes dig into yours, begging you to understand.

“together” you whisper-yell, this time feeling your cursed energy pull him to you. A twinge of guilt hits the back of your mind at accidentally using your power on him, but it’s quickly pushed aside by the familiarity of him smashing his lips into yours. He kisses you with even more passion than earlier, gripping your waist like he can’t pull you close enough. You run your hands through his damp hair. He pulls his face away momentarily to nod yes, before smiling and squeezing you back into him. 

Your curse has completely faded and he’s still here.

I’m so proud of him, I didn’t really think Toge had game, but somehow writing him this way made sense. Good for him.

part 3

[crypt-keepers-den]

[Astarion x Reader]

Warnings: None really, there are implications parenthood (the reader is adressed as mama/mummy), i just want to write fluff for the vampy boi <3

The soft glow of sunlight finds its way through your curtains, you turn your back to it before it can rouse you from your soft slumber. Your nose comes in contact with astarion's spine, pressing your face into his back which rouses a soft chuckle from deep with his chest, the vibrations cause you to slightly open your eyes. "Goodmorning my love" he turns to face you his pale skin glowing in the morning light, a smile present on his face, oh how you love his smile, everything about it from the crows feet that appear next to his eyes when he smiles genuinely, the way his fangs peek out from under his lips. He was perfect.

"whats on that mind of yours lover?" he casts you a teasing glance causing a geniune smile to grace your lips, your hands reach out to find one another, your fingers finding comfort in the grooves of his hand, feeling the gold band that sits proudly on his ring finger, the matching one adorning your finger, your voice is soft and groggy from sleep "this is first time in a while ive had you to mysel-" as if on cue the sounds of little feet on the hardwood floors brings your attention to the door, you sigh; however your still smiling "it would appear darling our little spawns have a different idea" . Your stifle a laugh your head resting on his chest as you both wait for your bedroom to turn into a chamber of madness. Astarion presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers combing through your hair.

your bedroom door creeks open, two little figures finding their way to the foot of your bed before climbing up and jumping onto their father "Morning mama and papa" Lyra, your 3yr old daughter sits ontop of her father, she almost his double, sharing his pale skin and silver curls, her eyes however are the same as yours. You feel small hands patting at your side, you look over and your 2yr old son Caspian is making grabby hands, he wants up to join in with everyone else; you lift him up allowing him to get comfortable on your chest, the small boy shares his father's facial features, along with his red eyes, however he shares your skin color and hair color.

"my my, little spawns you are up early today whatever is the reason?" astarion gently pokes and tickles his daughter, her squeals of laughter filling the room, caspian slaps his chubby little hands together in excitement. "papa you promised we'd go to the market today!". She was right, today was the first of the autum market and Astarion and you had promised your little ones (well only Lyra could understand really) that youd take them to see it and pick out a few things for home. Asatrion lets out a dramatic sigh, throwing his head back onto the pillow "I suppose i did didnt i" lyra laughs at him.

you seize the moment to tease him " Tell him to hurry up Lyra, hes a dramatic old elf" you pull a funny face causing your daughter to start giggling frantically, Astarion's head snaps around to look at you before attacking you and lyra with kisses "How dare" another kiss "you two" this time it was on your nose "call me a dramatic old elf" the final kiss was on your lips.

He scoops Lyra and Caspian up into his arms, lyra giggles at their father's antics, while caspian chews on his chubby little fist babbling back at his dad "alright my little darlings, lets go get ready" he approaches you with both children in his arms, he plants a kiss on your lips before disappearing out the bedroom door to ready your children for the day, you take a moment to listen to the now alive little cottage,

"papa can we buy pumpkins today!" " I dont see why not- caspian take that out of your mouth young man" "ew papa why are you covered in caspians porridge" You laugh listening to the mayhem, what a beautiful family you have, it might not be perfect but its the vampire spawn and now retired tav kind of perfect.

this was going to be another perfect day.

writers note: i just love this vampy man and i wanna give him everything bc he deserves it <3 i will be taking requests for more baulders gate stuff so please spam my inbox

[aireia]

And now I'm burning brighter than your dreams. — He grieves for you.

Extra notes: Read part 1 here! The fic makes just about 0 sense without it unfortunately.

tw/cw: minor spoilers for chapter 261. no pronouns used for reader but uses she/her in first part. death. angst with little fluff. hurt with a little comfort. minor implications of suicidal thoughts. dreaming. mentions of blood. minor violence. blades. death. injuries. author's first language still isn't english. no beta we die like everyone. wc: 6.8K

note: This fic makes 0 sense to me. It sucks ass, but there's 2 days till my birthday so I decided to become a genshin character and send you guys a gift (angst) instead of someone sending me gifts instead. I also have no idea how to tag this. —masterlist

y/n l/n’s death has been confirmed by second grade sorcerer Megumi Fushiguro.

It’s been a few weeks since your death. Has it really been that long?

It's spring. The seasons have just shifted, and it’s still cold early in the morning. Megumi tries his best to get out of bed every morning, but the chilly breeze in the morning doesn’t help at all. It’s been like that for the past few weeks. He’d feel the cold air in the morning, and his mind would flash back to the time where he was holding you in his arms.

He remembers everything. It was especially cold on that winter night, which meant bodies got cold way faster after dying. He remembers wanting to get your corpse back to jujutsu high as quickly as possible, but that meant he would’ve parted from you faster than he would have ever wanted. In fact, if there were a choice, he doesn’t think he could ever let go of you.

Megumi remembers telling himself to hold you for just a while longer after you began to get cold, to give you the warmth you deserved. You’re a child too, just like he is, and from his knowledge, most, if not all children hated the cold. 

He doesn’t remember being a selfish person. He’s only been like that once, for all he can recollect. Although he knows how he was when he cradled your body. His lips were trembling, his arms desperately trying to keep you close. He didn’t shed many tears, no, but he remembers his throat threatening to spill words such as “don’t go” or “don’t leave me”, yet he choked on all of them. 

Megumi was certain it wouldn’t have cursed you, considering you were killed by a cursed tool, but for the short period of time you were hanging onto the thread of consciousness you had left, he was sure he would’ve cursed not you, but himself to death with his words had you heard him. 

He hasn’t been doing much either. Every single day has been a constant loop for him where he struggles to get out of bed, does a bit of training, eats a bit, and heads back to sleep earlier than he usually would. His mind keeps yelling at himself that he’s being pathetic, and that you were the same as the people who come and go in a jujutsu sorcerer’s life. Despite that, he doesn’t quite understand why every part of him refuses. 

Megumi doesn’t dream about you often. In fact, he hasn’t dreamt of you for over a month now. It's for the better, he thinks, and he hopes it stays that way. Though, there's a part of him that wishes he could see you every time he closes his eyes, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. No, actually, screw that. Your name has rotted in everyone’s mouths. It tastes like vomit and dust on their tongues. 

“They didn’t even give you a proper burial,” Megumi thought to himself before his eyelids finally closed. He doesn’t know what they did to you after he turned your corpse in. He doesn’t want to think about any of that either. 

Thinking too much was going to be the reason he died, he swore of it. 

-

Megumi can hear the sound of soft grass swaying. Wasn’t he in his room just a few moments ago? For once, he can breathe the air normally without feeling like he doesn’t deserve to, and the sunlight is kissing his eyelids so beautifully, so much more gently compared to the morning breeze that pricks his skin.

He opens his eyes, and Megumi finds himself in a field of blooming flowers. He softly reaches out to touch the petals before standing up. He walks around the place, the sound of the grass rustling as he walks around now the only thing in his ears. 

Megumi stops and takes a large breath of fresh air. If he could, he’d live here forever, he thinks. 

Then he spots a butterfly fluttering around him. It’s pretty, a shade of deep purple and black, and he can’t help but follow it as it flies away from him. Suddenly, he feels like he’s three again, and although he doesn’t remember most of his childhood, he vaguely remembered that he would play like this with his mother. 

He loses the butterfly a little while later, and he’s greeted by falling sakura blossoms. He reaches out to touch the pastel pink flower, only for it to dissolve as soon as it comes in contact with his hand. 

Megumi walks up to the tree, looking up at the flowers to see the sunlight that bled through the gaps. Then, he spots someone else. Someone who’s also wandering around, lost, like a child without direction. 

-

His eyes shot open. Megumi touched his face. It was covered in beads of sweat, and his hands lightly trembled, he swears he saw you in the distance. You weren’t facing him. He walked around the field, aimlessly wandering around while admiring the violet butterflies that danced around the flowers, just as he did.

He walked up to you, and there you are. That’s when he woke up. 

“2am..” Megumi sighed once he looked at the clock on his nightstand. You’re in his dreams. Damnit. He’s not saying you weren’t before you died, but then, everything was simple. He dreamt of your futures together, not what this was.

He wasn't able to fall back asleep after that, tossing and turning on his head, only thinking of the image of you in the field of flowers. You looked so beautiful, and he wondered for a moment if it could be reality. It’s selfish, but he really wants it to be.

-

“Woah Fushiguro! You look more tired than usual today. You sure you don’t wanna sit this one out?” Yuji asked the next morning, clearly concerned. Of course he was. Anyone would be if they saw the dark circles under his eyes.

“I’m fine. Let’s go,” he replied, stretching in hopes of getting rid of the tiredness he felt. Each step he took after that felt heavier than the last, and Megumi felt like crumbling to the ground and falling asleep, but the world continues to spin no matter how he feels, so he decides to continue taking missions and working himself to the bone. 

At first, it’s fine. He easily distracts himself from the thoughts of you, but with each second that passes, he finds it harder and harder to do so. He’d thought that he would be able to forget you, but it seems to haunt him more and more now. 

He doesn’t get it. He remembers when Yuji died for a few weeks after he met him, and he easily got rid of the heavy feeling in his stomach, but now you’re gone forever, and if he’s honest, he never knew much of you, or had that much time with you, and it was a single dream, so why can’t he return back to his normal self?

Despite all the thoughts that plagued him, the day passed by quickly… He thinks. 

It felt like a long time when they were battling, but everything before and after that is a blur of memories he couldn’t bother to recall. Maybe it’s the injuries the curse inflicted on him that’s messing with his mind. Or it’s just like any other day, bleeding and merging into each other. 

-

“Another dream…” Megumi thought to himself when he opened his eyes to see the dark sky. He’s lying on something hard. The floor, probably. He stretched his arms and sat up, only to get startled by you, who’s holding up a lantern in front of him. He stares at you for a while, trying to process finally seeing you, and you cupped his cheek with your free hand. 

“It really is you. You disappeared just as I was about to call out for you last time,” you said, smiling. You set the lantern down and hugged him tightly, and Megumi couldn’t help but feel a little odd at the warmth of you. He’ll remember this feeling, he tells himself, because at least, he wants this nice, warm feeling to replace the final time he touched you before this, when your skin was cold to the touch.

“Where are we?” Megumi asked as you helped him up after you parted, and you picked the lantern back up. You looked in the sky, where the clouds swirled and drifted. “I don’t know,” you answered with a cheeky smile. You’re just the same as ever. 

You grabbed one of his hands and began running towards the nearest door. “I guess we should explore, right?” you laughed, entering the manor, both your footsteps now echoing through the empty halls. 

The walls were mostly lined with paintings of people you both recognised. Gojo and Shoko, along with a painting of a male with long, dark hair. The both of you slowed down to admire the art, and as you walked along the halls, you realised that the mysterious person’s paintings had been torn, namely the large gash that ran along his forehead. 

As you kept going to what seemed to be an endless gallery, Gojo’s paintings also seemed to be growing weirder and weirder. His were stained with crimson, and eventually, his paintings too shared the same destruction as the ones beside him.

Shoko wasn’t in the frame of her paintings anymore. 

Megumi was about to push the door to the next room open when you suddenly asked, “How’s everything been?” and his hand froze. 

“It’s not been the best,” he answered, not wanting to go too much into detail. You didn’t want to push him, but if only you did, because right now, you miss him too. 

The door opened to a garden, casted over by the shadows of the plants and trees. There’s a table in the middle of it, with tea and coffee and snacks. It seemed like too much of a set up for a date. Megumi wonders because it’s his dreams, maybe this is what he wanted when you were alive? To take you out to a coffee shop, one where there were barely any people so you could focus on each other. 

Without thinking, he pulled you over to the table and pulled the chair out for you, before walking over to one of the bushes and plucking out a rose for you. He goes back to you and slips it into your hair, brushing some of it out of your face to admire your pretty eyes. You’re the same as ever, and he thinks it’s the best thing that he’s felt in the past few weeks. 

Megumi pours a drink for you before sitting down to sip on his coffee, shyly biting into the cookie that you offered him with that pretty smile on your face. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed in this dreamland before the both of you finally get up and start walking around again. This time, you’re looking at the many flowers grown in the garden, and by the time you reach another door, you’ve woven a flower crown and placed it on Megumi’s head. 

The both of you stared at the wooden door in the middle of the garden. Considering its location, it was safe to assume that this was the pathway back to the real world. You felt his lips brush against your forehead before he opened the door, and then he was gone. 

-

Megumi awakens this time from the sound of knocking on his door. He looks at the clock on his bedside. It’s already 9AM in the morning. He lazily throws himself out of bed, before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, then opens the door.

“Wow. Look at this guy.”

Nobara pointed at his bed head. Her and Yuji were both dressed in casual clothing, ready for the day as compared to him, who still looked half asleep in his dark, long sleeved shirt. Megumi listened to the duo talk for a while before they focused their attention on him. 

“Fushiguro! Did you not listen to anything we said on the way back from our mission last night?” Nobara asked. 

“I was asleep.” 

“Then go get ready or something!” she half yelled, and pushed Megumi back into the room. 

Once Megumi stepped back out, he was immediately dragged off to Shinjuku, where they continued to pull him around while shopping for sweets and clothes and just about anything. Just for those few hours, his mind was lifted from the thoughts of you, and he felt a little at peace, even though you were still in the back of his mind. 

He felt a little guilty. Even though his expressions don’t show it, he feels so, so happy for the first time in weeks with his friends, but you aren’t here to feel it with him, and he can’t help but feel like he can’t feel what he does, because he wants you to be beside him too. 

He looks at the sight in front of him, drinking in how Nobara and Yuji looked trying to win a plushie from the claw machine, his own breathing the only sound in his ears as the chatter of passer-bys drown out every other sound. The two are raging over a rigged machine, the sensitivity of the claw set just a little too high for it to be able to tightly grip the plushies. 

And then, he thinks of you. 

Through his eyes, he can picture you laughing along with them. You would’ve loved this. You would’ve loved every part of the life they lived. 

After they successfully managed to bag two plushies, they continued their journey, running around Shinjuku before they ended up at a mall, where they took Megumi to a photobooth. 

Yea. You would’ve loved this.

That night, Megumi pulled out the drawer of his nightstand where he kept your photo and compared it with the new photo in his hand. He noticed that Yuji had a few new scars on his face, Nobara looked a little bit more mature, and he… Still had his eyebags. And the most noticeable difference, you weren’t in the picture anymore. 

He places both of them into the drawer and shuts it. He wants to take another picture with you again. Just the two of you, together. 

-

“What’s it like being dead?” Megumi blurted out. He was dreaming again. You take your eyes off the cloud like fish that turn into mist at every touch. A whale swam by just then, turning into smoke and mist the moment Megumi reached out to touch it. 

You stared at him, mind wandering. You fixed your gaze back on the creatures around you as you walked through the aquarium, and finally responded. “I’m just… There? I guess.”

“That isn’t an answer,” he said, slightly side-eyeing you, and you laughed. “I can’t say. I haven’t been dead for long, have I?” but that’s only to you. To Megumi, it’s been a lifetime without you, and hearing you say it again reminded him of just how much he’s grown to lean on your shoulder when he felt weak. 

“Or maybe it’s because I’m waiting for someone that I’m putting off finally laying my soul to rest,” you said, pressing your finger against the glass of the aquarium tanks and watching as curious sea creatures gathered. 

“Who?” Megumi asked, only for you to turn around and boop his nose with your finger. 

“You, obviously.” 

“You want me to die early?” He questioned again. What? Where’d he get that type of idea? 

“Silly boy,” you laughed, grabbing his arm before running towards the exit of the aquarium, the stray animals around you disappearing as you ran through them, leaving large trails of mist behind you, as if you were deconstructing Megumi’s dreams for him, leading him back where he belonged. 

“I’d wait an eternity for you, so don’t come here too early.”

-

When he woke up again, the rain outside was as heavy as ever. With the way it’s pouring down, it looks like there’s clouds of mist everywhere. That would explain why he dreamt of… Whatever that was. He pressed his finger against the panel of the window, wondering if there was even the slightest chance for him to create shikigami that resembled the ones in his imaginations. 

Actually, nevermind. That sounded stupid. 

Megumi got ready for his day. For once, he felt just a little bit more energised. Maybe it was because he felt reassured. You’re waiting for him, and he won’t be alone. Even if he can’t see you now, but still! He knows now that if he does somehow die, which you wouldn’t be happy about, at least he’d be able to have all the time in the world with you. 

The grief doesn’t feel as heavy anymore, now replaced by his hopes that you’d keep visiting him in his dreams, entering his mind and pulling him out of his own, it felt almost as if it were him who was in your dreams, and not the other way around.

-

It’s been a few months now, and he’s dreamt of you so, so many times. Each time he left those dreams meant that he made new memories with you– something you weren’t able to do in the real world. Megumi can’t help but find himself wanting to be with you more. He wants to make up for the lost time, for every second he wasn’t able to be by your side. If anyone knew, they’d call him obsessive. Hell, they’d say anything, but to him, this felt like hope he seemed to have lost.

He sat in his bed, reading one of his novels. Actually, reading… Wouldn’t be the right term here. He found himself mindlessly staring at the words and flipping through pages he hadn't read as he thought and dwelled on memories from when you were still alive. 

Megumi looked out the window of the classroom. It’s autumn again. The trees have begun to turn a shade of orange, the wind has gotten just a little colder, and everything seemed a little bit duller. 

Today, grey clouds covered the skies, and he looked at the front of the class. It seemed just like the day you first stepped foot into campus, where one day they’d all get permissions and have sleepovers and drink hot chocolate, and he can’t help but feel a little saddened.

Now all the memories he has of you are from the figments of his and your imaginations. Is it so wrong for him to wish to see the stars with you again? Is it so wrong for him to wish for you to take his first kiss in the winter on the roof again? 

Megumi wants nothing more right now than to relive each of those memories, and with each passing second, he finds himself wanting to do those things in his dreams, even though he can’t control any of them. 

-

“It’s almost winter? Brings back memories,” you breathed out, walking ahead of him. “I wanna play monopoly with you guys again. I was so close to winning last time.”

“Why couldn’t we have ended up like that?” Megumi asked you one day.

He was at a beach with you this time. When he opened his eyes, you were dancing in the cool water, freer than any bird with your arms spread wide to welcome the breeze and sunlight that kissed your skin. 

He was mesmerised by the way you moved, and before he knew it, you pulled him by his arms to dance with you, the warmth of your hands surrounding his skin. And then, you sat by the ocean with your feet in the water, your head resting on Megumi’s shoulder. 

“It would’ve been selfish,” you replied to his question, closing your eyes to listen to the sound of the waves. 

“It’s okay to be,” he retorted. “We could’ve been so much more.” 

Silence took over, and you think for a moment. He’s right. You could've been everything. 

“There wouldn’t have been a point to it with what I was.” There was bitterness in your voice. “And besides, I don’t have the right to feel that way.”

“I should’ve been more selfish for you.”

You looked at the water splashing over your legs and stood up, slowly making your way to the deeper parts of the water. Maybe it's your fault for showing up so much, but you miss him just as much as he does, and you're unsure of how to get him to stop, or for you to let go, too.

“It’s time for me to go. See you?” 

The uncertainty in your voice made him feel worried. He got up and tried to reach out towards you, wanting to do anything to keep you from leaving again, but the waves had consumed you before he could, and suddenly, his eyes were open, and he’s awake.

He doesn’t like how quickly the dream went by.

He doesn’t dream of you again after that. You’re always on his mind, just like usual, but he can’t seem to speak to you or dream of you. Each day spent was a day spent in disappointment, and he doesn’t want to stop trying.

Megumi could walk down the streets and see various flowers and plants, or a pretty bird you’d like, and he’d want to talk to you about it. 

Despite how strong his desires are, he can’t find you anywhere. He swears he’s about to start writing letters to heaven and somehow hoping they get to you. He’s dreamt of you so much now he’s starting to think you’re alive again, and more often than not, he finds himself picking his phone up and clicking on your contact in hopes of being able to text you about his day, and for you to respond to him, but that won’t happen, and he knows it.

And then all of it repeats. He’s going to bed earlier and earlier, hoping that by some miracle that he was going to see you in the fog of illusions his brain made.

But you never showed up, and he was getting tired of it. He found it harder to concentrate on missions, because there were just so many things he wanted to tell you, and he kept telling himself to remember because he’ll see you again, and then he’ll get to tell you of everything he’s seen, because you were never able to see them.

He’s so full of you, you, and you, and all the heart he has for you, so please, he begs, for once he's found something he can look forward to, why won’t you just comfort him again?

-

“Megumi…”

His eyes opened abruptly to scan his surroundings. Another few months have passed, and a year has probably passed since you first started appearing in his dreams, he’s finally heard your voice again. There’s nothing around him. It’s pure darkness, and he can hear your voice echoing somewhere. 

Megumi started following the sound of you, and eventually, the ground crunched with each step he took. He looked down. He’s stepping on white snow, then he looks up again, and there’s a trail of blood.

And he hears your voice in that direction.

He gulps and freezes. His legs are physically impaled into the ground, as if something were holding him down, and he can’t find it in himself to move. And then he thinks, and thinks, and you’re in danger, and suddenly, he takes one step, and then he’s running towards you. 

The trees seem to become blurry as he increases his speed, and he doesn’t know how long he’s been running. One moment it’s dark, and then there was light as he stepped into the snow, and now, the sun has set, and he’s running in hopes of reaching you before he fails you again. 

He’s panting heavily, his legs are about to give out from the running, and he finally sees you. The blood on the ground he saw earlier had gotten thicker with every step he ran, and he sees you laying in the cold snow again, with your arm extended towards the skies. There’s a star you’re hoping to grasp, to reach and it’s shining so brightly, so radiant and pretty for everyone in the world to see as you finally realised– It’s always been out of your reach.

Megumi ran towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wondered to himself just as he did it, what is he doing? Why does he have to experience this again? It’s completely the same, and he can feel how cold your body is. 

He feels like he’s on autopilot, vision shaky and blurry as he holds your freezing hand up to his cheek, and he can feel his heart thumping in his chest, his mind running thousands of miles per second, and yet just one word from you snapped him out of all of it.

 “I’m sorry.” 

For some reason, Megumi dreaded that you’d apologise. He didn’t want an apology. He knows you felt guilty for the pain you’d caused him, but he’s over it. He could never hate you, because why would he? How could he hate you when you gave him company, love, and comfort? How could he hate you when he’s himself? 

He doesn’t respond to you. Not this time. Instead, he looks up to see the moon, and just as he thought, there wasn’t any moon again, because why would there be when it was right beside him? And for how much you loved the sun, isn’t it cruel that it never shone upon you? 

-

His eyes shot open again. It feels even worse now. He knows it’s just a dream, but you were dying, and he’s awake, and he wonders if he was still there holding you so you felt warm before everything went dark. He stares at his hands. It’s not stained with blood. Not anymore, for he washed it off over a year ago, so why does it feel so devastating knowing it wasn’t real? 

Perhaps it was the feeling that he’s failed you again, and there wasn’t anyone by your side, or maybe he’s thinking from your perspective. Maybe he was never beside you and he’s invisible in his dreams, and you think you don’t deserve the grace of a little mercy, just a little bit of company and kindness when you die. 

The tight feeling in his chest from the day he woke up after your passing was back again, and he can’t help but think it’s only gotten worse. 

Megumi wipes the sweat off his forehead and gets up. He has a solo mission today. He can’t mess up again. Not when you’re no longer around to have his back. 

Once he’s ready, he meets up with Ijichi, who briefs him on his mission while driving. It seemed easy enough. Worst case scenario, he’d run into a grade two curse, which he wouldn’t have that much of a problem defeating. 

So why exactly was he being stared down by such a creature now? He can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. This exact thing has happened before, but at least you were there at the time. Now, he’s alone, trapped in a veil with no way to contact the outside world, and with the way the curse looks, he feels that he’s about to be beheaded. 

He snaps out of his thoughts when the curse swings at him, and he barely dodges the attack. He’s convinced he would’ve been turned into minced meat. He can’t do this. He can’t, not alone. 

He needs you, but you aren’t there again. 

He knows he can’t keep dodging forever. His stamina would run out soon, but every single attack he tried to deliver just wasn’t working. Nothing was. Every hit given was just another dent in his blade. It’s near its breaking point too, he can tell. 

Megumi’s eyes close as another impact lands on his weapon, and he doesn’t process it, but another hit, and everything hurts. He’s not sure if he’s broken a bone or not, or if anything inside his body is bleeding, but he’s very, very sure that he’s bleeding out. He’s tired. 

He doesn’t want to do this anymore. He can’t bring himself to get up. He can only stare at the curse before he finally blacks out.

-

“Hello?” he hears a voice sing out, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, finally” 

You’re looking down from above him.

“What… Where am I?" Megumi questioned you, looking around the blank space around him.

“The border between life and death. I'm just here to make sure you don't die early, that's what partners are for, right?” you crouched down and flicked his forehead.

“You’re dwelling on me too much. It’s been a year, you know?” you looked straight at him, noticing that he was avoiding your gaze. “...It’s because I've been appearing in your dreams, haven't I? That's what's holding you back.” Megumi finally looked at you at the mentions of his imaginations. Yes, you have been in his dreams. You are his dream, but he doesn’t want you to feel bad because of it.

“I don’t want to let go.” 

You sighed at his words and sat down next to him. “Megumi, you have to understand that I’m only a small chapter in your life. I’m not much of a psychologist, but that chapter has ended– Our chapter has ended. You’re still young, Megumi, there’s so much you can experience, so don’t end it all–”

“You were young too,” he blurted out. “You had a lot you could’ve experienced too, but you couldn’t.” 

“I wanted to live beautifully too!” you suddenly snapped at him, and everything went silent.

The tension between you two only increased with each passing moment, and you both sat in silence for a while. Truthfully, you were wondering how much time had gone by while Megumi was unconscious. You felt like there was a weight in your heart, a lump in your throat, something that prevented you from speaking. 

You finally decided to speak up after some time. You needed a way to get him out of this place one way or another.

“Say, Megumi. What do you see me as?” Once you asked, he didn’t hesitate to respond. 

“The moon.”

"Even after so long you're still looking at me as if I were the moon," you chuckled. 

"...It's unfair." You whipped your head to face Megumi when you heard the crack in his voice. "What's unfair?" You shakily reached out for him, but stopped when tears began to stream down his face. 

“Megumi–”

"Not just the moon," he interrupted through his hiccups. "I wanted to make you my entire universe."

You sharply inhaled, and pulled him towards you. He clung onto you. You noticed how his hands were tightly gripping onto your shirt, and you gulped. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m sorry,” you said again, running your hand through his hair. 

“I never properly apologised to you for hurting you, did I? I’m sorry.”

The next few minutes were filled with apologies, his tears staining your sleeves. You pulled away after he stopped crying, your hand now tightly wrapped around his. “Megumi, listen. You have unfinished business. You need to get up and go, or I'll kill you myself.” 

“Don't steal my lines,” he weakly croaked out in between sobs.

Megumi sighed and wiped his tears away, finally standing up. He couldn’t help but notice your hand tightening around his just a little after he helped you stand.

“I’m gonna miss this feeling once you go,” you confessed to him, fingers now running over his calloused knuckles.

“I have a request, Megumi,” you said, smiling at him. “I know I told you to move on, and I won’t appear in your but remember me every once in a while, okay? Somehow, I feel that there isn’t another soul that’ll remember me for anything good I’ve done,” and he bites his lips at your words. It’s true, everyone will forget you.

“Hey, wait,” Megumi says before you pull away from him. “Do you think I’m going to be alone when it’s my turn to die?” he asked. 

You wondered for a while, then responded, “You won’t,” you said as you interlaced your fingers together. “You’ll be surrounded by so many people, and they’ll be there to help you live on for so much longer, I’d doubt you ever died,” you continued. 

“Even if you are, and you feel alone” you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him goodbye one last time. “I’ll be here to kiss your lonely soul,” you teased, and he smiled before you detached yourself from him and turned around to walk away. 

“Don’t take that as an invitation to come here early!”

“Oh! And let’s meet up on that mountain again. Under the tree!” you waved. 

-

Megumi’s eyes opened. He looked around him. There were remnants of curses that weren’t there before he became unconscious. 

“He’s awake!” Yuji shouted, and Nobara came over to help him walk to the car they came in with Nitta. 

“We got worried about you since you didn’t come back,” the pink haired male said, helping him into the car before the both of them got to (aggressively) bandaging him up. He looks at the clock at the front of the car. It’s late. 

Once they got back, Megumi got out and began walking in the direction towards the cliffs. “Hey! We need you to get checked by Shoko! She’s been waiting ever since we started searching for you!” 

He groaned, but begrudgingly followed them, and all the way throughout his check-up, he’s only been thinking about everything you’ve said to him. The minute it was over, he darted out the door and ran for the cliffs. 

Megumi was panting slightly when he got there. He went right after the mission, with blood still staining his uniform. The moon hung high in the sky, watching as he summoned his demon dogs and began digging the spot under the tree. Megumi began clawing at the soil using his hands at one point, getting dirt stuck in between his nails and fingers. He only stopped when he found a slightly rusted metal box.

The boy didn’t know what to expect inside, taking a deep breath and gulping before his shaky hands lifted the cover of the box. 

Megumi saw a few pictures of you and him, some of the accessories you wore, a book, and a piece of letter that had been neatly folded. 

He sat down under the tree and unfolded the letter, and began reading.

My blessing,

Truthfully, I don’t really remember my first day at the school anymore, because when I stepped foot into campus, my goal was to get information from all of you, acting like a shadow that didn’t exist. I know that I felt alone before that, but before I knew it, I had been shone upon by stars that burnt brighter than even the sun, but yet, you seemed to be the darkest shadow among all the students.

I planned to die from the first day, but I only made it worse by getting closer to all of you. Had I not done so, you wouldn’t be feeling any of the grief you do. 

I’ve only been in your life for a few months, Megumi. I want to think I’ve made a change in your life., because I’m looking back on it right now, and you’ve made such a big impact in my life. All of you. 

Come to think of it, we never got to see spring together. Next time we see each other, let’s meet in spring, so we can have picnics at night while wishing upon the stars, just like children do.

And I’ll make sure I’ll be the one to greet you first, because you were the one who waved to me first in this life. 

Let’s meet again in a more forgiving world.

-

He held the letter in his hands after he read it, trying to figure out what he felt about it. His eyes are blank, and he’s cried so much for you that he doesn’t know if he has the energy for it anymore. 

A heavy feeling settles on his heart as he sets the letter down and picks the book up. It was a book he’s wanted for a while, something he mentioned to you once while you were stargazing, but he never brought it up to you again afterwards. 

Megumi flips open the cover, and there are wilted sakura blooms pressed flatly against the blank page, along with your handwriting. 

“They bloomed early this year, Happy Valentines Day, Megumi.”

He continued flipping through the pages, and you had annotated the book, highlighting everything you felt he would look back at, the cute moments between the people in the book that reminded you of the both of you, and a bookmark made of wilted flowers that bloomed all year round on the page of the couple’s wedding.  

Suddenly, he feels tears in his eyes again, and they overflow and drip onto the pages, slightly staining them. You told him to move on, but how could he? It was obvious you were lying to him again. You never planned to die. Even if you did, it’s obvious you never wanted to die. You wanted to spend your life with him. You wanted to swim in the ocean at night together, you wanted to wake up next to him, go on dates to carnivals just to ride the ferris wheel and admire the view of Tokyo.

And then it finally sunk into his soul that he’d never see you again. Not now, at least.

His hold around the book tightened, and he hugged his knees close to his chest. He wished on every universe that you’d somehow appear beside him and wipe his tears away, chasing away the heavy feeling in his heart. He knows the feeling is temporary, and it’ll go away in a while, but he feels so alone. 

By the time he finally stands up, his legs ache from how long he’s been sitting on the ground, and the sun is peeking through the horizon. He’s been consumed by his own thoughts for hours, and he thinks maybe it’s in his mind, but just as he turned around to walk away, a breeze of air went by him, and it felt as if something hugged him, just for a second. 

The universe is watching over him after all.

-

February 14th, two years after your death.

Megumi’s back at your spot again. This time, there’s a grave he had made for you, with a few plants planted beside it, and the ribbons tied around the stems sway in the wind. He sits down beside it and his fingers graze the tips of the soft grass. 

He closes his eyes, and he realises he can no longer remember what you look like. Well, not really. He remembers clearly what you look like. He still has the picture all of you took at the mall together, and he holds it dearly, but all of them have grown, and it’s not enough to remember you anymore.

There are new scars around their bodies, they’ve grown taller, become stronger. Megumi wonders what you would’ve looked like if you stood beside him now.

He looks around him, and maybe that’s his answer. The grass is greener, the trees have grown taller, the waves of the ocean are just as if not even more calming now…

You would’ve turned out just fine.

He can’t remember how many times he’s reread the book you’ve given him, but he finds himself turning to the page where the two lovers separated. 

“Do you think we’ll be like this forever?” the protagonist asked her partner, and you highlighted the phrase, a small note made in the gaps between words.

“Not forever, but definitely for a long time.”

-

Year ????

A young male with black coloured hair is walking through a park in Tokyo. The sun is shining brightly, and there are sakura flowers blooming. Some petals have fallen onto the sidewalk and grass, and he inhales deeply before stopping to admire… Everything. 

The world looks especially pretty today. He doesn’t know why, but the sky seemed to shine just a little brighter. 

A rare smile graces his lips, and he spots his friends and teacher waiting for him under one of the trees, all set and ready for a picnic. Someone taps his shoulder just before he takes a step forward, and he turns around to face someone with a face that seemed too familiar. 

You.

He sees you. You, who’s waving at him with that smile on your face that he adored.

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

[tarydarrington]

Well into the night, Essek folds his hands at last with nothing left to say. Caleb’s study feels hollowed out, refilled to bursting with the ghosts of every word exchanged. There had been a lot of them. All carefully chosen, some shouted, all heated.

This isn't the end of the conversation, but it's the end of their talk. A satisfactory end to the first of many chapters. Essek takes a deep breath.

"Thank you for listening."

Across the coffee table, his mother folds her hands in her lap. "Thank you for your honesty."

As though this is the end of a business meeting and not the second most harrowing conversation of Essek's life, they exchange a polite nod.

He stands, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Allow me to show you to your room."

Hours ago, Caleb had retreated to his quarters to allow them some privacy. Much as Essek would like to follow, he will stay away while his mother is here. Whatever assumptions Deirta might make about their involvement would not be true—not yet, anyway—and he will not sour their uneasy truce with a misunderstanding.

“My quarters are there,” he says, gesturing to the door with the star carving. “Caleb’s are across the landing.”

He points out the rest of the rooms below as they approach the landing. The tower has been tinkered with over time; the rooms usually reserved for the rest of the Nein have become workshops, research stations, and other such spaces that have proved useful in their explorations.

Before he can lead her down through the iris, his mother holds up a hand.

“If I might impose,” she says, “I should like to read over the reports you mentioned.”

Of course—he had mentioned the Vurmas reports during the initial buffer of small talk. They would make their way to the Dynasty eventually, but reading them beforehand will give his mother a leg up. The first of many gestures Essek suspects it will take to make up for her silence.

A small price to pay. Until he had known for certain that the Umavi would not cut all contact upon learning of his treason, he hadn’t realized how much he had dreaded the possibility.

He turns away from the iris and toward his room. His mother waits outside as he slips in, leaving the door ajar behind him as he sifts through the stack of papers left on the table in the entryway.

“Pardon the mess,” he says out of habit, as though the space is not spotless. Caleb arranges this room from scratch each night; there is not so much as a speck of dust to offend.

It stops Essek mid-hover, then, to see his mother’s eyebrows raised when he turns back.

“Think nothing of it,” she says, and already the polite smile is back in place. “Tell me, do your friends’ quarters share the same design?”

Essek follows her eye line over his shoulder. Caleb has laid out his rooms as he usually does, all purples and stars and fine fabrics. An array of arcane instruments waits patiently on a table under the window. Essek's mother looks past it all and into the bedroom. He frowns. There is nothing terribly unusual there, save—

It's all he can do not to swallow his own tongue.

The bed. His mother is staring at his bed.

For a drow of his age to sleep once in a while is not unheard of, of course; particularly when ill, they are known to indulge. Be that as it may, Essek knows as well as Deirta that one would hardly purchase a bed for a once-in-a-blue-moon nap. It comes with certain implications. 

It was not a purchase, Essek insists to himself. Everything in this room was pulled from the ether to make him comfortable. The logic is with him.

"Indeed," he says. "The colors are customized to suit us each as individuals, but the layout is the same."

This is the part where he pretends that he hasn't spent more than one night positively snug under those blankets for comfort's sake, and especially pretends he has not realized that the mattress is wide enough to fit two.

Essek’s mother is an intelligent woman. She will put two and two together: Caleb is a human, and a human unused to drow customs might make such a faux pas with innocent intentions. One tends not to think twice about habits that are second nature, and someone of Caleb’s background would not think twice about placing a bed in a bedroom.

Essek has done the same mental math more than once, with varying levels of desperation.

“Well,” he says, and presses the files into his mother’s arms with as much dignity as he can scrape together, “let me show you to your rooms.”

They make their way in silence down through the tower’s central column. Essek thinks auf rather than saying it this time; better, just in case, to keep the magic words from his mother.

He leaves the way to the front door open. She has far too much decorum to snoop during the night.

They touch down on the fifth floor. Silently, Essek thanks Caleb for neglecting to put a dodecahedron on the guest room door.

“These are yours.” He draws the door open for her, bowing his head as he gestures inside.

With no small swell of pride, he watches her take in Caleb’s handiwork as her head turns on a slow swivel, then sneaks a glance himself.

Strands of crystal drape the ceiling like a canopy of iridescent vines. Caleb has replicated perfectly the sitting room Essek had described, complete with his mother's favorite tea steaming on the low table. Everything from the molding to the doilies speaks to both the gravity of her station and her own personal tastes.

There is no bed.

The Umavi’s manners are immaculate. He knows, as she turns a smile on him that is barely thinner than usual, that he will not hear a word about it. He will simply be cursed with the mortifying knowledge that she has arrived at her own conclusions.

Perhaps, if he tried very hard, he could claw his way out of his skin.

“Thank you very much,” Deirta says, hands folded in front of her. “Please pass on my gratitude to Master Widogast.”

He will hold eye contact. He will hold eye contact and smile politely. It is perfectly acceptable for his mother to suspect that he—

“Of course,” he says. “Should you require anything, the cats will assist.”

With utmost grace and one final nod, the Umavi shuts the door behind her. Essek, hands folded behind his back, counts to ten before deflating.

The bed is just as they’d left it, when he finds his way back to his chambers. Essek lingers in the doorway regarding it for a long moment before sinking down on the edge.

The bedding is soft. Is this the sort of fabric Caleb imagines Essek would prefer, or the sort that Caleb himself enjoys? He runs his thumb over a seam, letting the thought settle in with a warm buzz. It feels less forbidden this time, and several times more dangerous.

He leans into both feelings, climbing the rest of the way onto the bed and under the covers.

Two floors down and two doors over, his mother is doubtless turning their conversation over in her head. She will spend the night picking apart his every transgression, weighing it against whatever sentimental value he holds to her.

Essek breathes out and turns his face into the softness of the pillowcase.

It smells like him. Like Essek himself—just the way it would after many days of use. Essek shuts his eyes, pressing his hands to his face as the liquid warmth of that realization makes its way through him.

Two doors down, he is increasingly certain that Caleb, too, is thinking of him.

His mother is in the tower. This is not the time to dwell on such things, much as his body would like to.

With a deep breath, Essek runs his thumb across the soft ridges of the duvet. His nail catches on one, then two, then three—he counts until his pulse begins to listen to reason, then breathes out. For now, he will take it as a safety net. Something to fall into at the end of the day when all else is uncertain. A soft place to land.

Let his mother assume what she will. It would be the least of his crimes she’s learned of tonight.

The threads of a Sending pull taut between his fingers, buzzing with potential. He takes a breath and lets it out.

“We are finished for the night,” he says. “Much more to come. My thanks and hers for your hospitality.”

He curls his lip at himself. Formality is not a leg on which he’s felt the need to stand in some time, where Caleb is concerned. His mother’s presence has him falling back into old means of keeping balanced.

“Sleep well. Perhaps with one eye open.”

Caleb knows him well enough to take it in jest. Essek lets the spell go, shutting his eyes with a long breath out.

Later, the memory of Caleb’s voice in his head as he sinks into the mattress will do him no favors at all.

“Glad to hear it went well,” he says, laughter in his voice. “I will have breakfast ready early. She will be impressed, I hope.”

Essek counts the stars on the ceiling. The pause stretches on for two constellations.

“Until morning, dear friend,” Caleb finishes. “Sleep well.”

Something warm unspools in Essek’s chest as the magic dissipates around him. There is more than one story in the tower that is only in the first of many chapters. The words to this one will be harder to find—but their writing, he thinks, will be sweeter.

---

a very happy, very late birthday to my friend @sosobriquet, who tossed this concept around with me many months ago 🍰💜

[queerofthedagger]

Inspired by this absolutely precious dreamling art by @anabimelo ! <3

The first time, Dream doesn’t do it on purpose.

He visits the New Inn as he has taken to doing a little more often than perhaps he should, and finds Hob with bruised skin beneath his eyes and a stack of unmarked exams scattered all around him.

“I can return at a better time if you are busy?” Dream offers; he would very much like Hob’s company, but he dislikes seeing him tired like this—much more, he would dislike adding to the reasons for it.

“Stay,” Hob requests, doubt flickering across his face before he nods at the bench beside him.

Dream has been finding himself increasingly incapable of denying Hob anything. He very carefully ignores the implications of said condition.

“Are you certain?” he asks. “You appear to be stressed.”

“All the more reason for a break,” Hob says, waving him off. “You could tell me about… just anything, really. News of your realm? How is the rebuilding going?”

Dream has been trying to become better about this—telling Hob his name and his purpose, all those minute implications that come with it—and so he does.

He speaks of the restoration process of the library, and Lucienne’s tireless work. He spins the stories that make up the inhabitants of the Dreaming and their various histories, while life in the pub keeps playing out around them, a comforting lull that never once disturbs their quiet bubble.

Hob listens, even as his eyes seem to grow heavier, exhaustion radiating off of him.

The first time is not on purpose, and so when Hob Gadling rests his head on Dream’s shoulder, drifting off into his realm, Dream freezes. He is painfully, viscerally aware of the warm weight of Hob’s head, the hair tickling his neck, the soft cadence of Hob’s breathing now pressed against Dream’s side.

Within his chest, something awfully close to a heart is thrashing against its bone-coloured constraints.

The implicit trust is almost overwhelming, would be too much if it wasn’t Hob; Hob, who is muttering a name in this early stage of sleep that he has learnt only months ago, pressing his nose into Dream’s neck as if to build himself a home there.

Dream can do little but breathe, can do little but wrap the magic of his realm around them so that he can carry Hob to his bed without waking him.

He lingers, for the briefest of moments, witnessing Hob’s sleep.

He ignores the blooming tenderness within his chest, too.

While the first time was an accident, the following instances are not.

Hob doesn’t mention it the next time they see each other, as their meetings spill over from the Inn to strolls through London’s early autumn streets and into Hob’s flat. They huddle up on Hob’s sofa, as Hob talks about anything and everything, and nudges Dream to do the same.

So he does; he talks about Matthew and Rose and Jed, about his siblings and his plans for the Dreaming. He lets his voice drop low, lets it drag and curl through the room and wrap around Hob like the magic of lullabies that people dream of.

When Hob’s head comes to rest on his shoulder once more, Dream forgets that he does not need to breathe. He forgets the weight of eternal responsibility that usually presses down on his spine, forgets the phantom coldness of glass and steel, and comes alive beneath the steady, never-ending rhythm of Hob’s breathing. --- So it becomes a habit. Selfishly, Dream builds himself a sanctuary between the sleeping mind and the waking form of his only friend.

He allows his voice to coax Hob into his realm and pretends not to see the knowing glint in Hob’s eyes. He talks of his past and his present and his future as if of gifts that are simple to hand out, and he offers them all up at Hob’s feet for the comfort of his warmth against Dream’s shoulder. For how, without fail, Hob’s calloused hands will find his. How, without fail, once Dream puts him to bed after taking his fill of the warmth, Hob’s fingers will still curl into the insubstantial fabric of Dream’s clothes as if asking him to stay.

It has nothing to do with him, really, and there is only so much Dream can allow himself to indulge. So he never does, no matter how much the longing is threatening to swallow him whole—to lie down beside Hob, to press his nose into the tender skin of Hob’s throat. To pull the covers over them and bask in Hob Gadling’s warmth as if he were the sun and Dream the thawing ice of early spring.

So he never does, until one night, Hob’s grip on his clothes does not loosen; instead, he blinks up at Dream with drowsy eyes that are full of fond exasperation.

He shouldn’t be, is the thing. No mere human should possess the strength to tear themselves out of the Dreaming’s grasp—not with Dream’s attention on them, with no nightmare or outside force to throw them back to waking.

Hob Gadling has not been an ordinary human in a considerable time. He is blinking up at Dream, slow but awake, awake, awake. He says, “Stay. Please.”

Dream’s throat is dry, air stuttering through insubstantial lungs; part of him is tempted to step back into his realm and the safety of its loneliness.

Hob’s fingers are still warm against the skin of his wrist. Beneath the exhaustion and the hope and the quiet confidence, Dream can read the nervous anticipation as if in bold letters.

You have been staying for months now, he seems to say. Will you let me stay with you too, finally, finally?

Dream has been finding himself increasingly incapable of denying Hob anything; Hob’s constant, gentle tenacity renders it impossible, at last.

“As you wish,” Dream murmurs, and means, please; I would stay for as long as you have me.

Hob smiles up at him as if he understands, and once Dream has stretched out beside him, Hob reaches for him. The blanket is spread over Dream, and Hob’s hand finds his wrist, unerring.

“Could’ve just done that weeks ago,” Hob says with a sigh, pulling him close with a light arm around Dream’s waist that he could slip out of if he so pleased.

He doesn’t; he stays silent instead, tension unspooling as his body melts into the warmth of the bed, the scent of Hob around him—its own kind of lullaby.

“Thank you,” Dream says, the words slipping off his tongue in a rare moment of missing deliberation. He can’t bring himself to mind.

Hob hums, a small, content sound before he presses his lips to the crown of Dream’s head. He pulls Dream a little closer yet, and then he drifts back off into Dream’s realm as if it all really is as easy as this, for him.

Dream breathes in, and lets the quiet joy seeping off of Hob’s mind fill the cold cracks within himself. He breathes out and presses his nose into the crook of Hob’s neck, feeling at home for the first time in over a century.

[thetimetel]

I see a lot of people hating so hard on Calypso for forcing Odysseus to stay on the island against his will - and seeing him as her new lover. And believe me, I get it. Those are horrible things no sane person would do.

But I keep being brought back to this line in her song with him. The part where she specifically says 'under my spell we're stuck in paradise. No one can come or go, my island stays unknown'.

She can't leave either. And that paints a whole new light on the situation.

How long has she been stuck there, all by herself? Years? Decades? She says in her last song that it's been a hundred years. Long enough that she has stopped calling it a prison and now calls it a paradise. How long has it been that she has done the same thing every day, pining for any other contact at all?

Then one day, something changes. A man washes up on the shoreline. She immediately takes him to her bed so he can rest and recover. She can already see the new life that they're going to have together, thanking the gods for finally answering her prayers to no longer be alone. She is immortal after all, and eternity is so much more bearable when you have someone else to spend it with.

But something's wrong. He's sleeping for so long, not waking up. And the panic starts to set in. Is he dead? Have the gods played some horrible trick on her, sending a dead man to the island? It's been so long since she has seen a mortal that she doesn't know how to check for signs of death. Is she really so desperate that she brought a CORPSE to bed and thinks it's going to wake up??

Then oh, it's good! He's talking in his sleep! Everything's good, everything is fine. Corpses don't talk. So she stays near him and listens as he whispers of Ithaca, of monsters and politics - wait, Polites, a few other names and then -

'Penelope'

And in that moment her entire vision for her new life comes crashing down. He said that name with such passion, such love, even in his sleep. No. It can't be. The gods aren't THAT cruel, that the first person they'd send to her is . . . no. She can't accept it, doesn't dare to think of the implications. Once he wakes up she'll ask him.

Then finally he does wake up. And it's like a dream. She's in the room, has clearly been taking care of him, and the very first thing he sees is her eyes. It's so romantic. She gets him up to speed, making a light joke about that 'thought you were dead' moment because it doesn't matter anymore. There's only one more thing to ask to ensure her vision of their future.

'did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me though, who's Penelope?'

'She's my wife'

And in that instant all her fears are confirmed. Something in her head just snaps. How dare the gods do this to her? How DARE they send someone already married to her island, after so long?

She's not giving up that easily.

So she continues her plan like nothing had happened. Letting slip her intention to wed him and make this wonderful family, of which she has likely named their first ten children already. And this man snaps at her, threatens to kill her.

'Oh handsome, you may try. But last I checked, goddesses can't die!'

And just how many times has she checked, being trapped on an island that she can't escape all by herself?

But again she brushes it off as a joke. Because that's all behind her. There's something for her to live for again! And silly Odysseus tries to claim that this isn't how it's going to be. She totally gets it, she went through that the first few years herself. So she spells out that he's all hers now.

Now all she has to do, is wait. Wait for him to come to terms with their situation. Wait for him to realize he will never reach Penelope. It will be ugly of course, that moment he finally accepts this cruel fate. But once that has passed, he'll fall for Calypso. She knows this in her heart. And they can finally set out to truly make this hellhole a paradise.

So she waits.

One year passes.

She's still having the time of her life. In between his escape attempts she's getting him to open up to her. When she explained her past to him he even showed sympathy! After all, they both were constantly getting screwed over by the gods. It wouldn't take long.

Two years pass.

His constant escape attempts are just amusing. She's taken to telling him 'welcome back!' every time the raft turns around and brings him back to the island.

Three years pass.

He tries to kill her, under the thought that it was her that was keeping him on the island. But she just laughs as she shows it didn't do a damn thing. He'll run out of ideas soon. He'll accept that he's trapped here, just like her.

Four years pass.

She's lost count of the number of escape attempts. There's at least five a day. He's trying to find a loophole in the curse that keeps them there. She's trying to gently push him over that edge, to get him to accept the reality of the situation. Once he does, their new life together will start.

Five years pass.

Any day now, he'd give up. The escape attempts had stopped, but now he would just sob on the shoreline. At this point he was going to raise the tide with how many tears he had cried. She understood of course. Her breakdown hadn't been any prettier all those years ago.

Six years.

Why? Why wasn't he giving up? Why was he doing this to himself? The escape attempts had renewed. He'd searched the entire island, trying to find something tethering them to this accursed paradise. He'd tried everything to escape. She wasn't even sure where he'd gotten the 'wax wings' idea from, but it was just as pointless as the other attempts.

Seven years.

She finds him at the edge of a cliff. And for the first time she feels a deep, primal fear. He'd never accepted her gift of immortality. She desperately tries to talk him down. But every attempt seems to be making it worse. She doesn't know she's repeating the words he's heard before. Then he cries out for Athena, and when she doesn't answer he just collapses in tears.

It was scary. But this had to be his breaking point. He didn't resist when she brought him back to their home, though he stayed in bed for the rest of the day. She just had to give him some space - though she was going to make CERTAIN he stayed away from that cliff.

Then something happens. The last thing she expected.

A visit from Hermes. He tells that Zeus himself has decreed Odysseus be freed.

And yet again, her vision of the future is shattered.

She pleads. She begs. He's falling for her, she knows it. That new life is so close, she just needs a little more time! But her cries fall on deaf ears. And when she tries to refuse, a lightning bolt lands a little too close for comfort.

There's only one chance left.

And in her heart she knows how it will end. But she tries. She tries to convince Odysseus to stay, knowing that if she fails he will leave her all alone again. She doesn't want to be alone again. She pleads, she begs, she pours out her entire soul to him. All while knowing what his answer will be. It hadn't changed for seven years, why would it change now? Why would this fucking world EVER give her what she wanted!?

And it ends just like she expects it to. With her watching as he gets on that raft and sails off into the horizon. Except this time Hermes keeps the curse at bay, and stops the island from bringing him back.

And just like that, she's all alone again.

[skzbinniebang]

“It hurts me, just how much I ache for you.” B.C

“It hurts me, just how much I ache for you.”

Pairing: Chan x fem! reader

Warnings: angst, implications of violence, cursing.

Word count: 988

(I have posted this short story before, I did want to rewrite it to change a few things!)

It was always up and down with your boyfriend. Always fighting, crying constantly on your end, and harsh words, maybe, occasional violence on his. Nothing too crazy in your eyes, but others would think differently. Especially your closest friend, fuck, your only friend at this point; Chris.

You and Chris have been inseparable friends your whole life, growing up in the same neighborhood and going to the same schools together. Now you’re both graduated from high school and taking an off year from university. Every time you had a fight with your boyfriend; you’d either call Chris, crying, and he’d pick up the phone and let you spill everything out on him, or calm you through the phone of course. Or you’d high-tail it to his house, if it was far too late in the night, you’d crawl into his room through his window.

The tear-streaked face would shatter his insides, he couldn’t help but grow feelings for you some time along the way in your guys’ friendship. He felt nothing but hatred for your boyfriend, hatred for how he could be hurting the one he was supposed to love, cherish, take care of, protect. If he had the opportunity, he was sure he could kill him. He didn't deserve you, and you didn't deserve to be treated the way you were. Each time you’d come into his room crying over him and what he’s said or done to you, he’d simply sigh and bring your fragile frame into his embrace. Chris had stopped saying anything about it a while ago, knowing you’d get upset with him over voicing his concerns or telling you that you need to break up with the loser.

It was a Sunday night, meaning Chris’ parents were already sleeping in preparation of work in the morning. That didn’t stop you from sliding his cracked window open and climbing into his bedroom with frequent sniffles. When you look around his room you frown noticing his absence, getting ready to leave he walks inside, right out of the shower. Oh, he is home.

Water droplets fell from his hair onto his chest and back, his towel clinging around his waist, holding on for dear life. You feel ashamed that your eyes wandered along his fit body, Chris stops once he notices you in his room and lets out a soft sigh while walking past you and slips a t-shirt on, quickly putting himself into sweatpants before you have the chance to turn to him. “What happened?” He asks you gently, sitting on the edge of his bed, patting the spot beside him. You sit next to him, letting out several hiccupped breaths, sobbing into his shoulder, “H-he…I-I found him with another girl!” Chris moves an arm around you, comfortingly rubbing your arm, “Y/n…this isn’t the first time you’ve caught him with another girl…” he starts out, speaking almost hesitantly, nervous that you’d start to get upset with him as you’ve done plenty of times before this.

Of course, he felt for you, the girl he had feelings for being mistreated in so many ways. “You just need to leave him y/n, I’m serious, he doesn’t deserve you, think about all the times he’s wronged you- “you cut him off with a huff, sitting up “He’s still my boyfriend Chris, you can’t talk about him like that.” You say a little too quickly, your face showing a deepened frown.

Chris scoffs and moves his arm off of you and shifts, now turning towards you, “What do you mean I can’t talk about him like that? Like hell I can’t, y/n are you serious? How many times are you sneaking into my room at night to fucking complain about your relationship? How many times are you in here, crying yourself to sleep? Every single time we hang out or talk, you bring him up, how unhappy you are, how he hurts you, we don’t even talk about other things anymore. It’s painful y/n. to sit here, listening and consoling you over some other guy. A guy that doesn’t even deserve you in his life. He is no good for you y/n, why can’t you see that?” Chris empties out his thoughts, fists clenching so tight his knuckles turn white from the pressure, not once looking away from your eyes, even as his own grow watery.

“Why are you saying this to me, Chris? You’re supposed to be my best friend, you’re supposed to- “Chris quickly cuts you off from finishing your words, “because I can’t do this y/n. I can’t pretend anymore, I can’t pretend like I’m okay with being your friend, having to hide my feelings for you, and listening to you become so consumed with this guy that doesn’t even treat you with the respect and love you deserve. It hurts me, hurts just how much I ache for you y/n. For years I have yearned for you, in secrecy and in silence y/n. All because I didn’t want to lose you, but I just can’t take it anymore. I can’t take the tears and the constant complaints over him when you do nothing to change it, to get away from him.” He pours his heart out, eyes threatening to let go of the fat tears in his eyes, bottom lip trembling.

You stare back at him with a look he’s never seen before, not speaking a word after his confession, his word vomit. “Please…say something,” Chris says desperately, letting out deep, ragged breaths as he stares into your eyes pleadingly. “I-Why would you say this to me now Chris…I‘m sorry, I don’t feel the same for you. You’re just a friend to me, you always have been. I have to go. Goodbye, Chris.” You finally find your voice again before leaving his room, leaving him standing in the middle of his bedroom, not once looking back as you leave his home, not returning again.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 swap bodies with their familiars

- to set the scene -

You've been doing steady research on the implications of having the body of an Arcana. Part of that has included concocting a few experimental spells designed to stabilize your connection to your body when you need to journey through the realms without dragging it with you. You've tried writing down several concepts, such as having an added anchor for your consciousness, or storing your body in your gate or a pocket realm. You haven't been getting the most sleep lately, so you head to bed before your beloved returns, completely forgetting about the pages of spell circles left on the table.

All you know is that when you roll over the next morning to snuggle closer to your love, you end up staring a very confused animal in the face. It seems your beloved wanted a better look at the spell circles, and now their consciousness is in their familiar's body, while their familiar's consciousness is trapped with your beloved's body in the magical realms. It seems you'll have to wait until their familiar brings their body back to reverse the switch.

You slowly turn back to the animal watching your every move. "... can you at least talk?"

(A/N - yes, I briefly looked up animal facts for this, but if my Google searches led me wrong please let me know! - brainrot)

Julian

Fortunately, ravens do have the capacity to mimick human speech

Unfortunately, it's slightly unsettling to hear Julian's dramatic ramblings in that kind of screeching, squawking voice. He sounds like a cartoon parrot, but hoarser

"Yes, my love, I *CAW*, it seems I can speak, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault, I *SCREECH* I don't know how I did this ..."

His normal pacing and dramatic poses translate into a very skittish raven hopping back and forth along the headboard and fluffing up every two steps

He's beginning to spiral a little, a feather or two floating onto your pillows, so you approach him and offer your arm for a perch

It's very hard not to laugh when he pauses to caw "thank you" every few pecks of cured meat and berries

Is very hesitant to try flying after his first attempt indoors sent him into a window. Perches on your shoulder the whole way through town, trying not to dig his talons in

Once you get out to the fields he gives it a try and falls completely in love with the sensation

You notice him performing all kinds of acrobatic tricks, pausing every now and then to bring you a berry or two

Keeps gently running his beak through your hair the whole way home, letting out soft warbles the whole time

Mazelinka shows up at your door as the sun is setting, brandishing her soup spoon and telling you to come collect your "ridiculous boy" from her rafters

You've prepared everything in advance, as soon as you walk into the same room the switch is undone

The first thing he's doing is wrapping you up in a hug. He missed holding you

Malak is too relieved to have his wings back to engage. He's taking off through the nearest window

Several days later you'll be doing some reading up on ravens (in case anything like this happens again) and discover that the berries and acrobatics and warbling and gentle preening were all courtship rituals

Oh, and ravens mate for life

Asra

Snakes don't have much capacity to speak

But at this point, your magical connections with both Asra and Faust make it fairly easy for him to think into your mind like she does

As soon as you manage to tune in, all you can hear are giggles. "... Asra? You in there?"

*giggles* Please, call me Fassstra, the limb-itless *uncontrollable laughter*

You don't know if you should be amused or frustrated with the way they're rolling clumsily around, trying to figure out their new dynamics of movement

It's very clear that it's not Faust you're holding as soon as you pick him up. Faust has a tendency to rest along your shoulders

Fassstra the limb-itless apparently prefers to wind themself along your upper left arm under your shirt, where they can peek out of your collar to blep at the world; or rest their neck along your collarbone, head pressed to your heartbeat

You don't know anything about the care and keeping of snakes, so you lock up the shop and head over to Aisha and Salim's

They're very happy to have you for the day, and even come up with a magic beacon to help Faust find her way back in Asra's body

Thankfully it seems Faust ate shortly before the switch, so you don't have to worry too much about food

But you do notice the way the two alchemists keep smiling and chuckling at Fassstra (the limb-itless)'s behavior

They keep winding the end of their tail around your arm and pressing their belly across your shoulder blades

Your figure it's just his way of hugging you

You're clearly more worried than they are. The thoughts you get from them are all lazy giggles and daydreams while they cover you with snoot boops and snek kisses

Refuses to rest anywhere else. You're warm.

It only takes a few hours before Asra's body suddenly flops onto the carpet, sprawled across the floor and very sweaty

It seems he inherited his teasing nature from both his parents, because they waited until he couldn't hide his blush to tell him that his mating requests weren't subtle at all

Nadia

If you thought Chandra was elegant before, she's regal now. Unfortunately, her attempts to turn owl hoots into speech are not sophisticated in the slightest

However, she can bob and shake her head, so you stick to yes and no questions

"Are you hungry?" *slight bob*

"Would you like me to bring you a mouse?" *rapid shaking*

"How about some cuts of raw steak?" *very hesitant bob*

When you first offer your arm to her, she refuses and instead flaps and hops over to the glove she uses for Chandra. She's very wary of hurting you with her talons

It turns out Chandra is heavier than she looks. Your arm is quite tired by the time you reach the kitchen

You're able to clear her schedule for the day and arrange for your meals to be brought to the Palace gardens. She's very careful to stay as still as possible until you transfer her to a low hanging branch

You set the palace fountain up to be an easy portal and pass the morning relaxing in the grass, watching her figure out the business of flying. She finds that she loves it

You settle down in a gazebo nearby around lunchtime, which is when you notice her perk up a little

She starts bringing you small flowers, using her perch on the back of your chair to rub her cheek against yours

At one point she kept running her beak along your hairline and daintily adjusting the collar of your shirt

You manage to keep the gardens empty to protect Nadia's privacy when her body returns, and when she splashes out of the fountain it's a matter of seconds before they switch back

Chandra flaps off to hunt and Nadia immediately whisks you away for a long bath. Being a bird felt a bit messy for her

You'll find out later that owls initiate courting with gifts of food, and that paired couples often preen each other and rub cheeks to bond and show off their courtship

If you bring this up with Nadia she will blush and assert that you are the ideal mate

Muriel

Your suggestion to try speaking will be met with a hard stare and embarrassed huff

Wolf faces, it seems, are plenty expressive. Considering how well the two of you already understand each other without words, it's not as difficult as you would expect

You've seen Inanna hunt and eat her own food plenty of times before (rabbits and deer, usually) and you keep waiting for Muriel to head out and do that

But he's stubbornly curled up in a ball, ignoring the stomach rumbles you can hear from the other side of the room, because he doesn't want to take a life

Trying to convince him otherwise will result in him turning his back to you with an annoyed huff, briefly swiveling his head around to give you an apologetic lick

You'll have to break into the winter's supply of dried meat. He'll accept it if you feed it to him by hand

You already know Inanna will mostly likely return with his body on the mountaintop Muriel uses to cast runes so you hike over with him next to you

Close next to you. Very close. To the point that your thigh is brushing against his flank with every step

When you finally get to the top and sit down he alternates between pacing in patrol circles and snuggling up to you

He'll be approaching you, making quiet little whines, bumping your nose with his and tucking his snout under your chin as he leans against your side

You figure that it's a product of his anxiety (he's trapped in a wolf's body, and he's not a wolf!) and give him as many reassuring snuggles as you can

Muriel's body will suddenly appear just around lunchtime, lying on his side and out of breath

You brought everything you needed with you, and Muriel's no stranger to magic, so they're back to themselves in a few minutes

You realize how little you knew about Inanna before this, so you'll stop by the library next time you're in town and do some research

Apparently all that snuggling and nuzzling was a wolfy attempt at courting you

Portia

Her immediate response to your question is a loud, long, meow. She will fix you with those big eyes and keep yowling until you stop asking the impossible of her

Now that you've determined where her body is, she's hungry and she's ready to eat and she's letting you know

You know Pepi has cooked chicken all the time, so that's what you make for her

She'll bat at a piece of paper and bring you a pen. Eventually you figure it out and write "YES" and "NO" in big bold letters for her to point to

She spends the hour or two after breakfast with the zoomies

You can tell from the look on her face that she's having the time of her life. She can climb so high! She has such good balance! She can go so fast! She can leap from the roof and watch you scramble to catch her!

Eventually mid-morning hits and she gets drowsy. You've decided to stay in the cottage and garden, as that's where Portia's magic is most anchored and where her body will most likely appear

The day passes drowsily, Portia snuggled into your lap while you read, but then shortly after lunchtime she gets a second wind

Only this time, she's focused completely on you. Standing between you and anything you're holding, rubbing against your legs and arms and face nonstop, rolling around on the carpet in front of you, and meowing so much you wonder if something's wrong

It's difficult to ask her that, because she's made it clear that she can't speak, and asking her only makes her more agitated

Sometime in the afternoon you turn around to see Portia's body curled up on the sofa and you're able to switch them back

Several months later, you notice Pepi acting up again, rolling, meowing, constantly rubbing up on your and Portia's ankles. You remember seeing this before and comment on it:

"Is it going to get worse? I remember you being much more extreme."

She'll turn bright red and stammer as she explains that this is behavior typical of cats trying to attract a mate

Lucio

It's a little unsettling, because Lucio has two familiars, and he naturally only swapped bodies with one of them

Which is why Mercedes is still dozing happily as Melchior fixes you with the most doleful, confused, loving gaze

When you ask if he can speak, Lucio (in Melchior's body) only manages some strangled grunts and whines, which wakes up Mercedes, who promptly begins to freak out

Mercedes is a familiar after all. He can tell what the situation is, even if he doesn't know how it happened. No self-respecting dog would expect to wake up to his master's soul in his brother's body

You sit down and explain what happened as well as you can, which helps Lucio relax, which helps Mercedes relax, which stops the barking

You're not worried about Melchior finding his way back with Lucio's body because Mercedes makes for a perfect beacon

As soon as he tries running, it's the only think Lucio does for the next several hours. He can go so fast! There are so many things to chase! There are so many things to smell! Speaking of smell ...

He keeps smelling you. And the more he sniffs, the more insistent he becomes. What starts as occasional sniffs of your hand becomes a constant attempt to get a good whiff of your privates

Which let's be clear - you are not a fan of

At first you just brush him off, but as he gets more invasive you snap and respond like he's a real dog: "Bad Lucio! Get Down! NO."

The wide eyed-whimper you receive makes you apologize immediately, and one scritch behind the ears later all is forgiven

You do keep having to push him off of you

Melchior will appear with Lucio's body shortly before bed, and you'll switch them back right away. Mercedes is overjoyed

You will finally get to ask Lucio about his behavior though: "What was up with all the sniffing? Did I smell weird?"

And he will get defensive: "Is that so wrong? Do you want me to tell you that you smelled good? You smelled good!"

[midnight-moth-musings]

Unrequited Part 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, slight John "Soap" Mactavish x reader

Part 1

---

After a restless night of attempting to sleep, I wake up the next morning in a continued state of confusion. I groggily rub at my eyes as I sit up in my bed. I raise my hand to gently trace my fingers over my lips--lips that had felt the warmth of another's just eight hours before and now feel lonely without them. After months of pining for Johnny, my heart now leans in another direction. Simon's words echo through me from the night before. I'd learn everything about you if it meant you'd look at me the way you look at him.

How could I have been so blind? How could I have missed it? I had always brushed off the small glances he'd throw my way during meetings as a sign to pay closer attention to the briefing. I would chalk up the gentle brush of his hand against my waist as he'd pass by me in the kitchen as nothing more than friendly. The way he always had my coffee ready in the morning--hot and made to my liking as if he'd memorized my whole routine.

I quickly stand up from my bed and fumble around my room for a fresh pair of cargo pants and a hoodie. I barely manage to tie the laces of my combat boots before a loud knock echos from my door. My heart skips a beat and a smile spreads across my face as I imagine it's Simon--however I open the door to see Johnny standing outside with a serious expression.

He beams brightly as I step through the doorway. "Hey lass."

"Morning." I murmur. "What are you doing here?"

Johnny's eyes seem to flicker behind me--as if he was expecting another presence in the room. "Well, I saw ye left early last night and I wanted to check up on ye."

"Oh." I lean against my doorframe as I continue staring up at him. "I was a bit tired, so Simon offered to take me back to base." Johnny's gaze darkens for a moment and he scoffs lightly. "What?"

He simply shakes his head and mutters quietly. "Of course he'd offer to take ye back." My mind begins to spin in circles as I try to decipher the implications of his statement.

"What do you mean by that?" My breath catches as Johnny leans closer. My body tenses as he places a hand on my cheek--I can't help but compare the feeling to that of Simon's last night. While about the same size, Johnny's hand is ever so slightly softer. Perhaps the softer sensation of it should feel more welcome against my skin--however it feels...wrong.

He brushes a stray hair behind my ear before answering. "I always knew he fancied ye."

I find myself pulling back from his touch--his words striking a cord within me. "What does it matter to you?" Johnny rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"He's only trying to get under my skin because he knows I fancy ye too." My stomach drops at his admission and my eyes widen.

"Johnny..." He stops me by suddenly leaning forward to press his lips against mine--his hands wrapping around my waist. There have been countless times where I have imagined this exact moment--Johnny kissing me and professing his feelings. I expect my body to erupt in fireworks, to feel butterflies in my stomach, or to even experience a sudden burst of electricity coursing through my veins. However, I find that I feel nothing. No fireworks, or butterflies, or electricity. Nothing.

I pull away from his hold and push him away. Johnny stares back at me in confusion but continues to hold a hand at my waist. "How do I like my coffee?"

He tilts his head for a moment and lets out a laugh. "Why does that matter?" My feelings are only solidified by his response and I shake my head in disbelief.

"If you liked me, why did you spend the night with that blonde from the bar?" I begin to remember the jealousy I had felt last night watching him with another woman.

Johnny's brows furrow as he stutters out a reply. "That? That was just harmless flirting." He smiles brightly and leans closer once more. "C'mon, I know ye fancy me." As Johnny leans forward to press his lips against mine once more, I hear the loud footsteps of another enter the hallway. My head turns quickly and I gasp as I make eye contact with Simon. His brown eyes flash with hurt as he quickly observes the closeness of Johnny and I. Guilt fills my body as my gaze drops to the two mugs of coffee resting in his hands. Johnny turns to flash a smug grin and Simon quickly turns to walk away.

"Simon, wait!" I push Johnny away harshly and take a step away.

"Y/N!" Johnny calls out to me.

I turn back to look at him. "I did have a crush on you, Johnny. But now I realize it was a one-sided infatuation. You don't care about me the way he does. I only wish I saw it sooner..." Johnny simply nods in response and turns to walk away with a frown. I quickly turn on my heels to run down the hallway to find Simon and explain everything. My heart beats rapidly as I realize he is nowhere to be seen. I run back to his room and pray he's inside. I knock at the door rapidly. "Simon?" I repeat his name several times.

The door swings open and I sigh in relief. "What?" The coldness of his voice startles me. I look up to see his eyes are pointedly staring down at the ground--away from me. His balaclava is missing from his face and I can clearly see his frown.

"Johnny kissed me." I breathe out quickly. "He kissed me."

"I saw." He continues to avoid making eye contact and I reach out to grab his hand--tugging at it in frustration.

"You're not listening. He kissed me. He kissed me, and I felt absolutely nothing." Simon's eyes flicker up from the ground to meet my gaze. "When you kissed me last night, I felt things I'd never felt before. I never realized what I wanted all along was standing right in front of me. You're not the second choice, Simon. You're the only choice."

Simon squeezes my hand and I smile in relief. "Is that right love?" He places his other hand on my cheek tenderly. The rough pad of his thumb rubs against my skin and I feel my cheeks heat up under his gaze.

"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner." I whisper, leaning closer against him.

He shakes his head--eyes crinkling as he smiles down at me. "You don't need to be sorry, love. I knew you'd come 'round eventually." Simon's arms move to pull me closer by my waist and I laugh as he holds me against his chest.

"Mm, you knew it?" I place my hands on his chest and smile widely up at him.

Simon scoffs, squeezing me tightly against his broad form. "Of course." The gap between us closes and I am met with the familiar sensation of his lips against mine. The empty nothing I had felt with Johnny is replaced by the everything I feel with Simon. Fireworks, butterflies, and electricity is not enough to describe it--kissing him feels as if our bodies are two pieces of one puzzle fitting together perfectly. I silently curse myself for being such a fool as to not see it sooner. All I've ever wanted--no, all I've ever needed, was him.

We pull away after a moment and I find him staring down at me with a grin--the pink scars decorating his face twisting into a perfect piece of artwork that would challenge the likes of history's greatest artists. "Join me for breakfast." I nod in agreement and Simon pulls me inside of his room. As he hands me the cup of coffee he had made for me, I find my heart skipping a beat.

Coffee made with a disgusting amount of cream and sugar has never tasted better.

---

-P

[seraphimcollections]

fading part. i

pairing: johnny silverhand x reader

summary: mortal enemies from birth. the devil and the angel, good versus evil. you, the prodigy netrunner and hidden child of the Arasaka global empire. him, rebellious outcast and infamous rockstar of Night City. Sworn enemies with the odds stacked against them, but fate is fickle thing.

warnings: gun violence, murder, blood, kidnapping, grooming (not by johnny), rockstar behavior, angst angst angst! sexual implications, eventual smut, slowburn, secret enemies to lovers, fluff.

a.n: hey everyone! thx for the love and for your patience. luv ya!

word count: 2.8

masterlist

//…memory shard detected…[uploading]]]///…[year 2010]]..//..memory upload [complete.]///

The days started like any other. The gentle pinging of the alarm clock summoned the curtains to slowly pull away from each other, letting in the sunlight. You groaned at the sudden intrusion of the warmth of the sun, burrowing deeper into the 1000 count sheets that clung to your frame. You tried your best to hide from the beginning of the day, but you knew your AI companion wouldn’t allow it. Tomie materialized first as a disembodied voice.

“Good morning, Hina-san,” she said cheerfully.

You sighed as you rolled onto your back, finally letting your eyes crack open. Your long dark hair pooled underneath you as you laid there, sleep still creeping at the back of your eyelids. The rest of the room came to life, the gentle LED lights illuminating the marble floors.

“Morning, Tomie,” you sighed, a hand running over your face.

“The weather is superb today in beautiful Osaka, temperatures sitting at 23 celsius. The itinerary for the day includes breakfast, grilled mackerel, pickled vegetables and steamed rice. After breakfast, Sanada-san will pick up where you left off…”

Your mind wondered as Tomie listed off the rest of your day like she did every day. There wasn’t much divergence from your daily schedules which usually consisted of sustenance, hours upon hours of lessons ranging from history, homemaking, advanced quantum mechanics but your favorite, netrunning. This came all too easy for you and it was almost an escape from your mundane life. It came to you like walking, something that your uncle was impressed by, but he’d never show it. By the age of 12 you had already cemented yourself as one of the best, something that even your stoic uncle could find pride in. A nameless prodigy. All because of this namesake. A name that every person on this godforsaken planet knew of, either fondly or with despair, but a name they knew all the same. Arasaka.

It was a name that held great power, a name tied to a megacorp that had it’s hands in practically everything. From what you knew from your uncle Saburo, the corporation dealt in corporate security, manufacturing and banking -- and that’s all he would explain. Saburo practically raised you after your mother passed in complications with an unknown sickness that befell her days after your birth. It was a tragedy that brought mourning looks directed toward you whenever you dared ask about your mother. But just like everything else, that’s all you knew. Even when you tried to pry answers from your servant staff, it was always the same:

“Ah, Hina-san, unfortunately that isn’t for me to say…”

Perhaps a few years ago you would have swallowed these empty answers and carried on with your day but now, as the days rolled helplessly into the next, you could feel yourself getting restless. It was hard enough that you hardly ever got to leave the giant yet empty penthouse you’ve called your home for as long as you could remember, bad enough that you couldn’t do anything without being supervised. Again, in the beginning, having servants follow and fulfill your every whim didn’t bother you, but just as these unanswered questions began to eat at you, so did these instances.

You sighed as you swung your feet over the edge of the bed, letting them hit the chilled white marble. You raised your arms above you, letting out another groan.

“Tomie, start the shower please,” you said tiredly.

“Yes, Hina-san.”

You could hear the shower start from the connected bathroom as you settled onto your feet. You sighed as you stared over the city of Osaka, the tall skyscrapers aflame with giant advertisements. You stared down to the street, squinting to see if you could spot the people, only to find small specks. How could it be that every little speck down there had their own lives, their own hopes and dreams? Their own freedom to make decisions? You sighed as you looked back over the glittering skyline. There’s so much world out there, and yet it all seems…far.

“Hina-san, the water is at the temperature you prefer,” Tomie snapped you out of your thoughts.

You turned and walked into the connected bathroom, steam misting up the shower glass and vanity mirror. You stripped yourself of your cotton pajamas, leaving them in the hamper before stepping under the water. The warmth coaxed a groan from you as the water poured over you. You stood under the waterfall, letting your mind wander. Your mind felt somehow heavy, clouded.

“Tomie, run a diagnostic, please,” you ran your hands through your locks, before stopping to stare at the palms of your hands.

“Are you feeling unwell, Hina-san?” Tomie said, programmed to sound concerned.

You shook your head, “no, I don’t think so? Can you run it please?”

“As you wish.”

You let out a heavy breath as Tomie scanned your biometrics, their data scattering over your vision. It was over in seconds.

“There is not anything I could sense to be the matter,” Tomie said. “Can you describe the symptoms?”

You rocked your head back with a sigh, “overwhelming loneliness and hunger, but not for food. For…anything, I suppose.”

“Hm, I see,” Tomie said, “it appears you are suffering from another depressive episode. Should I call your guru?”

You shook your head as you shut off the water to the shower, “no, just cancel all of my lessons for the day.”

“Are you sure? You canceled them yesterday,” said Tomie as you began to towel dry yourself.

“Just do it, please,” you said gently, wrapping your hair up into the towel.

You stepped over to the cup of real water sitting neatly next to a small dish containing one blue pill. You grimaced as you picked up the pill, examining it once more. Something else key to your daily routine, your medication. You had begun taking it regularly when you first told Saburo how restless you were becoming. Your restlessness manifested mostly in your dreams. These dreams felt so real but it was like you were living in someone else’s body. It scared you, deeply. Once you brought it up to your uncle during one of his rare visits, it was then did you see another type of emotion besides stoicness. He was actually concerned, something that frazzled you even more back then. He quickly referred you to the guru and got you on the most expensive of drugs, and like magic, the dreams went away but not so much the anxiety. With a sigh, you swallowed the lone pill and chased it down with water.

You walked out in your wardrobe picking the same pressed and virgin white loungewear. Once dressed you finally stepped back into your room, collapsing back onto your bed. You let your mind go into autopilot as your hands brushed through your damp locks.

“Would you like your food brought to you, Hina-san?” Tomie said.

You shook your head as you set the towel beside you, “not hungry. I’ll be in my chair.”

You walked out of your room, entering the towering hallway that led to the other connected room and eventually the living parlor (never once used as intended) that led onto the remotely operated elevator. The first servant stood at her post directly beside your door. She bowed deeply, greeting your softly. Her uniform was simple and reminiscent of a traditional style. You bowed your head out of respect.

“Thank you, I’ll be in my den,” you said.

The young woman stood to her height, her expression concerned. You were beginning to get tired of this look.

“Will you not be enjoying your breakfast, Hina-san?” she asked.

You smiled gently, trying to ease the young woman’s worry. You couldn’t blame the difficult job that was handed. Getting to this position was not an easy feat. Saburo was a fickle man who craved nothing but perfection, something that wasn’t lost on the personnel he hired.

“Yumi-san, please don’t worry about it,” you smiled.

Yumi smiled childishly and nodded. You headed down the steps until your reached the below level. You stepped through the automatic clear door into a netrunning den. The walls were lined with countless state of the art servers, the wires stemming like tentacles from them only for them to meet in the center of the room where you chair lie. You sighed, an invisible weight lifting off your shoulders as you stepped deeper into your den. Your hand glided across the white leather of your chair before climbing on. You settled into the leather with a sigh, grabbing the large port that would be your entrance into the net. You move your hair over your shoulder before plugging in, your optics lighting up like a Christmas tree. You relaxed back into the chair, eyes flickering over the data flooding your brain. Perhaps at one time the amount of sheer data held by the entirety of The Net, worldwide, would have been too much to handle -- but you weren’t any normal run of the netrunner. You were the best.

“Ok, see you on the other side, Tomie,” you sighed, eyes falling closed.

“Enjoy your trip, Hina-san.”

Your vision bloomed into pure white, blinding you. For a moment, it felt as if you were falling through cool water, the feeling completely enveloping your being. For a moment, it felt like you would be falling forever before the feeling stopped abruptly. The hum of the net vibrated against you as you finally opened your eyes. Before laid a field of darkness gently illuminated by grids of blue and white light. You looked over your virtual avatar materialized in your space, finding the only difference being your white netrunning jumper. The silence was threatened by the hum of the never ceasing net, which you were well aware was the voices of millions of people scattered across the globe. In the beginning, having access to such a delicate and ruthless place as the net was thrilling. For a while you found pleasure hacking into rival corporations like Millitech or Biotechica, but even this became too easy. Too boring. Not even slithering past the NUSA’s best netrunners brought suspense. It was all too easy.

“Tomie, where are you?” Your voice glitched and echoed in the endless chamber.

In a blink, Tomie’s digital body materializes beside you, her tall frame donning a traditional yukata with her hair tied neatly in a bun.

“I’m here, Hina-san,” she smiles politely.

You smile back at her before waving your hand, selecting a direct strand of the net, its glow illuminating the space around. Your fingers tinkered with, threading through the threads of light and combing out any discrepancies and viruses with ease.

“And how is the Arasaka estate doing today?” Tomie asked, peering over your shoulder.

“Well…” You spread your arms apart, the column of light growing to surround you both comfortably.

Your finger dreamed against your lip as you peered over the collected abstracts that held all secrets and deals of Arasaka. Everything that was Arasaka lied right in front of you, your duty to protect it at all costs.

“Hm, same old things,” you sigh, crossing your arms, “Millitech rearing its head again -- honestly, what could they possibly wish to achieve.”

“Possibly another Corp War for them to benefit from?” Tomie answered.

You sighed, your eyes narrowing in a red speck of flickering light. You curled your fingers toward yourself, the red speck instantly falling in front of your eye.

“How interesting,” you murmur as you inspect the little virus closer.

“What is it?”

“It seems that NetWatch has thrown a little interest toward Arasaka,” your brow furrowed. “It looks like a simple recon virus, I want to believe that they wish to keep Arasaka in check.”

“Hm, how arrogant,” Tomie frowned. “Will we retaliate?”

You took the small speck between your fingers before crushing it between them.

“There’s no use, report this to my uncle’s assistants,” you said with a sigh, restricting the Arasaka database back to a single strand of light. “Tomie, I think I’ll be here for a moment, I’ll call for you later.”

“Yes, but I should inform you about-”

“No appointments or lessons today, remember?” You smile gently urging the AI to simply nod and disappear into the nether.

Once you knew you were alone, you let out a sigh as you looked out into the endless chamber. Your mind settled into your usual routine, preparing to do a thorough sweep of all of Arasaka’s servers and protected data, when you heard something that shouldn’t have been. A voice. Your brow furrowed and you came to stop. Your tuned your ears to listen, only to find the same familiar silence. You shook your head.

“Maybe a rogue AI hiding somewhere, I-”

But there it was again. But this time it wasn’t a whisper, it was a shout. It ripped through cyberspace, shaking you. You gasped as you looked around to see that the space around you rippled and shook from the sound.

“What is this?” You wondered.

Your eyes squinted as you peered into the depths of the Net, hearing the static humming begin to get louder and louder. Scanning the disturbance, you detected the noise was coming from within the Arasaka security servers. Typically such servers were quiet, something that the other netrunners were mainly in charge of since it was typically more local problems that were easily snuffed out. But this was different.

Your eyes narrowed as the endless space began to move past you, speeding through the Net and hurtling toward the noise. The noise became louder and louder the closer you came until finally the shouting and buzzing was deafening. You stopped with a gasp before a glowing red strand that pulsated in rage. It looked almost…alive. That’s not possible, you thought. The noise was almost overwhelming, completely taking over the space around you. Hesitantly you reach out for the strand, flinching at the moment your fingertips brushed against the digital cord, media burst out from it. Your eyes widened in shock as numerous screens appeared around you, the source of the noise becoming clear.

You twirled around, looking at all the screens in bewilderment.

“What’s going on?” You spoke to yourself.

Your gaze stopped on a particular screen. Quickly scanning it, you deciphered it as security footage of an angry mob of people congregating in front of a barricade held up by Arasaka men. The mob had destroyed the front of the building, small fires littered across the crowd.

“Death to Corps!”

“Arasaka is the real terrorists!”

Your heart dropped. They were angry - no, they were vengeful.

“Tomie?” You shouted over the video.

“Yes, Hina-san?”

“Where is this?” You said, your eyes never leaving the screen.

“This is Arasaka Tower, located in Night City of Pacific Coast, North America.”

You swiped away the screen, bringing up another. You listened to their chants, all calling for the end of corporations, but Arasaka specifically.

“Why the anger?” You wondered cluelessly. “I don’t understand, Uncle said that because of our position there, Night City has been able to remain free from the NUSA. So why?”

“There is no use in ever understanding the human condition, especially its relationship with anger and vengeance,” Tomie bodiless voice said.

You shook your head. You couldn’t understand why Tomie was being so cryptic all of sudden. Of course you knew that Arasaka had its enemies, clear by the daily nuisances of the other corps, but you never knew there was this much…hatred. But there was a voice that was the loudest amongst the crowd. Just one. You scanned and searched for who the voice belonged to until you finally found them. Your eyes widened in wonder when you looked over the man. Because that’s all he was, a man. His hair long and shaggy and his eyes obscured by gold rimmed aviators. He wore a bullet proof vest and held a guitar strapped to his back. A guitar?

“Yes, it seems to be of the older variety,” Tomie said.

The man shouted into a megaphone, the crowd echoing his chants. For all extensive purposes, it seemed that this single man had rallied all of these people for this cause. A cause you still were struggling to wrap your head around. You found yourself studying the man closer, partially listening to his hurtful chants. As you watched you couldn’t help but wonder who this man was.

“Tomie-”

A searing white light obliterated everything around you as you were pulled out from the Net. Your bio eyes snapped open in shock, beads of sweat rolling down your brow. As your optics flickered back into frame your den became clear. There was a figure stood over you, blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights. Your chest heaved as the all too familiar voice reminded you just where you were.

“Were you not expecting me, my dear?”

You gulped as you saw your reflection in his glasses.

“Uncle…”

///Memory shard complete…awaiting/transmission…///[ERROR] - MEMORY LOST///

TAG LIST: @moldonfruit @0moonjelly0

(Please let me know if the tags worked, thank u!)

[ghostlywhiskey]

Simon "Ghost" Riley - No Remedy

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 665 

Warnings: None, besides a super tiny part implicating smut, but I wouldn't even classify it as that.

Summary: Simon is just a memory after he doesn't come back from a mission. Inspiration by Lana Del Rey's Dark Paradise.

Notes: My first writing piece in a long time - so, nothing crazy! Super quick, but enjoyed getting back into writing. Thank you to mother Lana for inspiration. It only felt right using her for inspo being back on Tumblr.

find my masterlist here

And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody. It won't leave my head.

Simon rolled over in bed, his body deep in slumber sleep recognizing your presence was absent from his embrace. As if it was programmed into his subconscious, his arm reached out to pull you close to him. The way his rough hand gently slipped under his t-shirt you had claimed yours to sprawl his hand out on your abdomen.

You stirred slightly in your sleep. Never in your life were you able to claim you were a heavy sleeper. 

Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, they opened slowly and adjusted to the dark room. The only light came from the window and even then, the glow off the moon offered little to no help in guiding your eyes through the dark.

Carefully, in an effort to not wake Simon, your body turned onto the opposite side. 

His face looked relaxed and peaceful, his guard down as he always slept better next to you. Marked with a few scars, he was still the most handsome man you laid your eyes on.

Your soul is haunting me and  telling me that everything is fine.

The cries of the son you share with Simon echoed through the upstairs hallway. In a brisk movement, you were out of the bed and into the nursery. 

The 8-month old was in your arms as you swayed him gently, trying to soothe him.

“It’s okay, baby. Mama’s here.” You whispered into the child’s ear kissing his cheek.

The cries continued despite your efforts. You glanced at the open window of the nursery - it was a clear summer night, sounds of crickets in the distance creating the only melody of the night. But, a delicate breeze coursing through the opened window, the curtains dancing in response. 

A wave of serenity washed over the hysterical child, as if the breeze whispered ‘Relax’. The cries halted and the curtains came to a rest. But, the sound of crickets remained, pulling you back into the reality like a high pitched scream compared to the murmur brought by the breeze.

Every time I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise. No one compares to you, But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight.

Fingers interlocked as your footprints mark the sand below, Simon’s thumb grazing your hand softly. 

You stop in your tracks, tugging Simon’s hand gently to get his attention to stop walking. His body turns, his gaze landing on you as he looks down. 

“Everything alright, angel?” His voice is much more soft spoken than usual.

“I love you.” There is no direct answer to his question, the three words escaping your lips before you could register what had been asked.

“I love you. But, is everything alright?” Simon repeats his question, as if he knows you aren’t. 

As you go to respond, an imaginary rope tightens around your neck. 

It pulls at you.

And pulls again.

Your eyes open suddenly. Your body gasping for air. Your brain flooded with consciousness despite being fast asleep moments ago. 

There's no relief, I see you in my sleep…

The headboard hits the wall with every thrust. Simon’s left hand holds the back of your head to keep your focus on him and the right hand on your waist. 

Your eyes locked on each other is the only communication needed at the moment in addition to the moans. 

But, both your heads turn towards the door as the faint voice calls for your name. The grip of his hand on your waist tightens as if he is scared you’ll leave. You always seemed to leave.

And everybody's rushing me, but I can feel you touching me.

At the same, your eyes lock back onto each other. Your hands moving to place your hands on his cheeks.

“I’m not going anywhere, Simon.” Your voice is soft and reassuring. 

For the first time in your life, you are a heavy sleeper.

[corrieguards]

Toast

Echo x reader

Summary: after spending the night with Echo you wake up to make him some breakfast. Word count: 1,2k T/W: light non-explicit sexual implications and domestic Echo which should be a warning all by itself. A/N: This is purely self-indulgent.

Getting to spend the night with Echo was rare. Waking up with him not only still next to you but also still fast asleep was even rarer.

The clone seemed to have this sixth sense that made him wake up at the same time every day. Honestly, at this point it wouldn't even surprise you if the Kaminoans had in fact somehow managed to build that into his and his brothers DNA.

But today was one of those few mornings where you got to take in the sight of your boyfriend while he was asleep, expression relaxed and devoid of any worries and stress. It suited him.

His mouth was slightly open, small snores escaping him. Legs tangled with yours and his arm draped over your waist. 

You laid on your side, taking in the sight in front of you with a smile. Kriff, he was beautiful. And all fucking yours. All yours.

You turned, checking the time on Echo's comm device he' d left on your bed stand for the night. There were still a couple hours before he'd have to head off. Good, you would have time to make him some breakfast then. 

Carefully untangling your legs you slipped out of the bed. Not wanting to switch the lights on in fear of disturbing his sleep, you felt blindly on the floor, fingers clenching around the first item of clothing, which happened to be the top half of Echo's blacks.

You slipped it over your head and quietly padded out the room, taking one last affectionate look towards your boyfriend who was dead to the world on your bed. Kriffing cute.

Once in the kitchen you made a beeline for the kaff machine and started it going with two hot mugs for you both.

Just as the first mug was finishing off you heard your bedroom door shut, followed quickly by Echo rounding the corner into your kitchen.

You took him in as he lazily walked over to you, tan chest bare and the grey sweats you’d bought specially for him hanging deliciously low on his hips.  He pressed a sleepy kiss to your forehead and you smiled looping your arms around his neck

“Well good morning handsome"

He hummed, heavy eyes closed and forehead leaning against your own. "Morning to you too beautiful," he rasped. Stars, that morning voice.

The kaff machine beeped, making you break free of Echo's embrace and walk over to it, picking up both your mugs.

"Is that kaff?," he inquired, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Mhm, sure is," you replied, passing him the biggest of the two steaming mugs and relishing in the excited look on his face.

"Thank you meshla," he pressed a chaste kiss to your temple

"You were supposed to stay asleep for longer," you pouted, "Was gonna make you a proper breakfast n' everything, kriff knows you need it after eating the GAR food every day,"

He chuckled, "Just this kaff is already perfect, don't worry baby,"

"Yeah but I wanted to do something nice for you Echo," you replied wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing a soft kiss on his lips before adding, "You deserve it,”

He smiled and kissed you back. A couple of beats of silence passed before Echo quietly broke it

"Y'know, we can always make our breakfast together," he suggested shyly, "I mean I can't promise I know what I'm doing but you can teach me, we have plenty of time.”

You perked up at his suggestion, eyes shining with excitement "Really?"

"Sure meshla," he chuckled, "Anything you want, just tell me what to do.”

You smiled wide, "Ok then trooper, what do you feel like eating this morning?"

"Literally anything is better than what they make us eat in the mess hall."

He smiled when you laughed. “Ok then, we’ll pick something nice and easy."

—-

"What do you mean you don't know how to use a toaster?"

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck "The Kaminoans never really gave us cooking lessons." 

You looked at him dumbly before quickly coming back to your senses "Okay then… C'mere I'll show you" you beckoned him closer and he shyly came up to stand behind you.

You explained the steps for setting up the toaster, all while he watched you carefully yet intently over your shoulder.

It was one of the things you loved most about Echo, The genuine curiosity he had towards life and the natural desire to learn more were some of the first things that drew you to him and made him stand out between his other brothers.

"Ok then," you said, “You wanna give it a try?” He nodded and you stood back, watching him with a loving smile as his brow furrowed, fully concentrated on making this toast. He was definitely an ARC trooper alright. He carefully pushed the toast down, hand hovering over it for a second before turning to look at you for conformation. “Did I do it right?”

You chuckled at his uncertainty, stepping up on your tippy toes to give him a chaste kiss “You did it perfectly babe. Now we’ve just gotta wait a few minutes and it’ll be ready.”

He hummed and moved to wrap his arms around your stomach from behind "That I can do”

"Y’know" he whispered, lips brushing against your neck as he spoke "You look so fucking good in my blacks meshla”

You smirked and lent back, his chest pressing again your back. “I’m sure you’d like it better if I was out of them”

His warm hand slowly crept up your thigh, making you inhale sharply “Oh I certainly would” he purred into your ear.

“Maybe you should do something about it then” you teased slightly out of breath from the feeling of his hand creeping further up and slowly moving to your inner thigh.

He chuckled and began formulating a response when the toaster suddenly pinged, making him jump. You bit your lip to try to stop the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Sorry”, you said trying to quell your giggles for the sake of his dignity, “Forgot to tell you it did that”

“Made me jump out my fucking skin” he swore. Unable to hold it any longer you burst out laughing. 

He smiled watching you “You look pretty when you laugh”

A blush spread across your cheeks, making him smirk and cup your cheek “And even prettier when you blush”

You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless, giving a quick kiss to his nose “C’mon you sweet talker, let’s finish this breakfast”

"Yes ma'am" he said with a mock salute and a goofy smile. You huffed out another laugh, playfully hitting his shoulder "Idiot"

"You know you love me," he teased, smile growing wider.

"Mhm, I do" you craned your neck to give him another peck on the lips. "Cause you're my idiot"

my masterlist

[punishing-eden]

So idk if you do smut or taking any request at the moment but if you do can you do Lee where he gets jealous? Like commandant is spending TOO much time with Wanshi being his pillow and all.

Author's Note:

Hi, you can still submit requests,I don't mind doing them from time to time. But rn I am a bit busy irl, so it will take a while for me to finish.

As of right now, I don't write Smut. At most, I could is implications of sexual acts. But not full pornographic details/paragraphs.

But also, a Lee and Wanshi sandwich????!!! 😍😍

I know I said this before, but I will say this again, I really need to get to Echo Aria.😢I have heard about their interaction and, Boi... it's *Chefs kiss*

Edit: aksjakjskaka, I made a huge mistake, it has now been fixed.😭😭

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"Our" (Grey Raven's) Commandant...

Lee (Entropy) x Commandant/reader (ft. Wanshi)

Summary:

Lately, Lee has been experiencing a unique emotion whenever he sees you with another construct, Wanshi. Although, he was convinced it was just some malfunctioning of his M. I. N. D programming. His actions spoke other wise.

Needless to say, Wanshi seems know what was going on.

Tags: Tw: Jealousy, gatekeeping behaviour, request, mild fluff, one shot, a triangle

It started at thirty centimetres. By the time you came back to Babylonia from an earth mission, the proximity, between you and Wanshi shrank by ten.

A week later, it reduced to five, four, three, two, one, all the way to zero. Lee counted the units, whenever he saw you and Wanshi together.

He had been counting, the units on full display in his inner device. Recording the number of times that proximity unit reached to zero. According to his data, it happened more than a 'good' amount.

"I am sorry, but this is 'our' (Grey Raven's) Commandant," he once warned Wanshi, who only looked at Lee with a nonchalant expression. Eyes heavy with fatigue, Wanshi, whom, with a more mature way of thinking, only nodded and ignore Lee's statement. Keeping things civil, Hypnos hummed and walked away.

Without a doubt, it infuriated Lee. Holing up in his room, the construct ruminated in thought, while dismantling his gears. In his mind, you have been spending more time with Strike Hawk. At first, as Lee thought, it was all professional and work related. That was until, he noticed how close you and Wanshi were. A little too close for Lee's comfort.

Needless to say, he began to device preventative measures to bring an end to this madness. Doing everything he could to stop the proximity reaching to Zero. He went as far as to slot himself between you and Wanshi, accompany you everywhere, turning down opportunities of contact on your behalf.

Despite the efforts, he was disheartened. Upset, having spotted you sleeping with Wanshi in the training room.

You were fast asleep against Wanshi's chest cushions, all the while, the construct 'slept' in leisure. The fire arms were laying on the ground, unsupervised, and the scent of gunpowder lingered in the air.

There was a heavy feeling in Lee's chest, a set of emotions ruptured from his M. I. N. D., triggering his physical symptoms.

In denial, Entropy questioned himself. Back tracking through his schedule to see if it was something he did or damaged. Did the construct engineering team replaced the wrong gear? Replenished too much vital fluid?

'I must be overloading', Lee thought to himself.

He didn't say anything but went to carefully picked you up in his arms. It would be better to sleep in a bed.

Without a word, Lee carried you back to your quarters. Only to find you, once again, asleep with Wanshi the following night in the training room. Same again on the next following night again and again.

Gritting his teeth by how maddening this occurance was, Lee picked you up for the final time. You were still fast asleep, exhausted from the training.

The same set of emotions swirled in his M. I.N.D. Lingering his gaze as Hypnos, Lee clicked his tougne out of frustration.

"This is our Commandant," he mumbled, "go get your own..."

"... That's not how Strike Hawk works, you surely know that."

Taking a step back, Lee glared at Wanshi. Shifting in his sleeping position, with his eyes still closed, Hypnos gave a yawn before slowly, very slowly, opened his tired eyes.

Lee scoffed at his last sentence. Clearly hiding the embrassment, of his biased opinion being heard.

"Of course I know that," Lee replied, "But what are you doing, always approaching our Commandant?"

Wanshi only look back at Lee with an indifference gaze. Disinterested in engaging an argument, the construct began stretching before laying back down. Shifting, in a more comfortable position.

He closed his eyes and said, "We just so happen to fall asleep here. Commandant just wants to practise aiming."

There was a scene of you mentioning about your shooting skills played in Lee's memory data. During that time, he wasn't in for a small talk, and didn't put your concerns at heart. Thus, it was his own doing for pushing you to seek others for help. Maybe that's why you went to Wanshi instead.

"... Rest assure, I am not stealing your Commandant. I was just trying to help..." Wanshi quickly fell silent, entering into a slumber, he left Lee reflecting on his emotions.

After a long paused, Wanshi spoke up again, "... it's okay to be jealous"

For a split second there was an impulse urge for Lee to point a gun against Wanshi's head. But, Entropy quickly recovered. He gave Wanshi's sleeping form one last look before heading back to your quarters with his teeth gritted together.

******

To recieve a notice on the following morning, Wanshi realised he'd just recieved an offical complaint. Placing the tablet down on the coffee table, the construct just resumed his slumber on sofa.

"Wanshi," Chrome's voice snapped Wanshi awake, "Care to explain why we got an offical complaint?"

"It was just some misunderstanding..." Wanshi replied.

"Is that all you are going to say?" Chrome pressed further.

"It's not much of a big deal," Wanshi said, "just about jealousy."

Looking up at the ceiling, Wanshi gave a small smile before yawning and fall back asleep.

(C) Punishing-eden