#things that are “without foot nor head”

[1d1195]

Under Construction VI

Read Under Construction here | ~7.2k

From Me/warnings: a sick fic, fluffy, angsty stuff, and Evan

Summary: “Y’scared me,” he admitted. “Not quite falling off your roof, but close. Y’do this t’all your boyfriends?” There was a smile in his voice. “S’this a test of some kind?” She snorted and then winced. “Sorry,” he kissed her forehead. “No jokes.”

March was the longest month of the year.

Teachers should be paid double in the month of March.

She groaned as her alarm went off and her head felt like a balloon was taking residence where her brain was supposed to be. Or behind her eyes. And her ears. Then there was the whole thing with her nose and her throat. Pretty much anything an otolaryngologist would oversee, felt like it was swollen.

Standing up, she moaned again. It felt like her skin hurt. Without turning on the light, she made it to her bathroom. Blindly she reached for the cabinet door of the vanity. As she opened it, it came off in her hand and dropped on her foot, corner first of course. She hissed and rubbed her other foot on top of her injury while the broken door flopped to the ground too loudly for that early in the morning and for someone that felt like they were suffering from the worst hangover of their life.

Sighing she felt blindly for the thermometer among the shelves in the cabinet.

It was definitely DJ. DJ coughed and sneezed all over everything last week regardless of how many times she reminded him of good hygiene practices. There wasn’t enough hand sanitizer and anti-bacterial soap in the world to stop the super germs of kindergarteners.

Moaning she made her way back to her bed and flopped down. No fever. Despite the fact she felt like she was sweating. All she wanted was a break. One little day. But no fever meant this was doable. It was just a cold. She would sleep for another hour. Show up on time instead of early. She’d been doing this long enough so that she could wing together anything that needed to be put together in a last-minute, last-ditch effort and it would still turn out okay, at least. Either way, the little ones wouldn’t know. Miss Bee would be her happy normal self, just a little sniffly. A little sweaty. A little tired.

She just needed one extra hour of sleep.

*

Harry was worried.

She didn’t answer him yesterday afternoon. Not that he demanded nor needed her undivided attention, but he had never seen her leave work early (early for her, that is). He wasn’t quite sure how he missed her. It was probably like a bad sitcom. Harry saw her at dismissal, fortunately there was no Evan so maybe he didn’t feel the need to keep an eye on her as close as he normally did. That was perhaps his mistake. So, when he looked back, she was gone. He headed down the path to her classroom door, peered in like an absolute creep. He was lucky he did the background check that first day he met her. He was certain the police would have been by to arrest him otherwise. But her lights were off. A novelty. In the six months he had known her, not once had he approached her classroom after school and found it, for all intents and purposes, dark.

It was Tuesday. They always laminated and cut paper on Tuesdays.

He frowned at her empty classroom. Hey Bird, everything okay? You leaving in a hurry for something?

How had he missed her? It went unanswered and after school she was usually pretty, immediately responsive. Running a hand through his hair, he headed back up the path. Her car was gone, and he swore it had to be a joke that he was missing her. He imagined if he was crazy enough to run closer to the road, he would have caught the sight of her taillights heading off.

Turning to his car he sighed. He could swing by her house. That would be a normal boyfriend thing to do, right? It wasn’t crazy, or stalkerish, right?

Right?

“No after school special?” Niall asked.

Once he headed for her classroom, Harry rarely saw Niall after school let out. Niall was just one ladder rung (no pun intended) below Harry on the jobsite, and he was kind enough to check things over at quitting time just so Harry could get even a few extra minutes alone with his pretty bird.

“I guess not,” he mumbled. “S’a bit unlike her. Leaving so quickly. Not answering her texts…”

The one he sent at lunch time because he hadn’t seen her at recess either… Harry’s stomach churned uneasily. Was it something he did? No, it couldn’t be… Their date on Sunday was fine. Everything was fine. So, unless it was something Evan said the day before, or something her pretty brain conjured up in her mind, everything was fine.

“Maybe it was a family emergency,” he shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll text you soon. Don’t stress so much.”

But even if it was nothing to worry about, it still worried him because it was so unlike her. “Driving by her house would be…?”

“Creepy,” Niall stated.

“It would, wouldn’t it?” He grumbled. “She said I could come by any time,” he reminded Niall. They stood facing one another, separated by Harry’s car, Niall leaning back against his driver’s door while Harry leaned against his hood.

“Mm, that’s true. Maybe you could be in the neighborhood. Drive by just to see if she’s home? Maybe she’s just had a long day, and she went home,” he suggested.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, maybe,” he muttered. It just sounded so unlike her. Harry really hoped everything was okay. “Yeah. I’ll drive by,” he confirmed to himself and got in his car without much more thought of it. He sped a little faster and headed to the familiar house with its patched roof and painted shut windows. He wanted to ask her to move in, it would be so much easier, but he knew she loved this house. He didn’t blame her. It was adorable, a great area, and so completely her. If it weren’t for the fact he loved her so much, he probably would have already asked her to abandon it.

He parked in the driveway beside her car, his anxiety easing a little as he headed up the path to her front door and knocked. But then his anxiety kicked right back up as his knock went unanswered. He frowned. Called her phone. Which also went unanswered.

Harry felt bad he was tattling, but he remembered her rule was that it wasn’t tattling if it was a safety concern and there was no question that Harry was concerned for her safety. Hey Louis, it’s Harry. Have you heard from her today? She’s not answering her phone…

No, I haven’t. She must be sick. She’s probably trying to sleep it off and isn’t fully coherent. It’s pretty much the only time her phone goes unanswered. Did she go to work today? She’s insane ya know. I’ll check with her sister just to be safe.

Harry felt only the most minor bouts of relief. However, he was still upset if she was ill and went to work and was hiding it.

I’m… actually at her house. Do you think it’s alright to go in and check on her? She’s not answering the door.

Oh yeah, she’s got an open-door policy for loved ones anyway. Probably especially for you. The spare is on the back side of the welcome sign. It’s hooked on a magnet, can’t miss it. Let me know if she’s worse for wear than we thought.

Harry felt all kinds of emotions as he hurried to find the key and get inside her house. “Hey Bird,” he called, putting the key on the entry table and locking the door behind him. “Y’home?” He asked and kicked his shoes off. It still felt creepy whether he had been granted permission or not. “Kitten,” he called quietly again. “Y’making me a bit nervous,” he admitted and headed through the small hall looking for her. “Oh fuck,” he frowned. She was lying on the bathroom floor. The shower was running, hot steam filling the small room she was almost hard to see. One shoe had fallen off her foot. Her face looked peaceful other than the small wrinkle between her brows like she was in pain. “Hey,” he turned the water off and then crouched beside her. The door to the vanity was gone and flopped on the floor haphazardly. Shit, was she unconscious? Did it hit her? “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered and gently moved her so he could cradle her in his lap. “Kitten?” He tried again. “Bird, m’love, wake up,” he encouraged stroking her face and gently nudging her as best he could without moving her too much in fear the door did hit her head. Then maybe she hit her head again going down. But there was no bump, no cut, not a drop of blood on her face.

She groaned low and long. Pain evident in her face as the peace of her face disappeared and the little stitch in her forehead deepened. “No,” she whined.

“Hey,” he whispered. Relief flooded him. “Bird, s’matter? What happened?”

She coughed hard. Her body was shaking. “S’cold.”

Harry was sweating and so was she. He brushed his hand on the back of her forehead, clammy and a little warm, but not feverish. “Oh, baby,” he frowned.

“M’sleepy.”

“Why didn’t y’say something?” he asked and curled her closer.

“Don’t move me, m’head hurts,” she begged. Making all of Harry’s fears about hitting her head come right back. “I think it’s going to explode,” she explained.

“What’s going t’explode, m’love?”

“My head.”

His heart took off three times as fast. “Bird, did the door hit your head?”

“No, my foot,” she muttered. She was taking him on a roller coaster, and the highs and lows were so jarring he wanted to cry. He glanced at her feet, but she was wearing tights so he couldn’t see anything. “M’head hurts,” she repeated. “I think it’s gonna explode.”

“Kitten,” he frowned. “What happened?”

“M’sick.”

“Why did y’go t’work, Bird?” He whispered and gently scooped her up, one shoe and all. She moaned and tucked her face into his chest.

“No fever.”

“Kitten,” he tisked. “Jus’ because y’don’t have a fever doesn’t mean—”

“Shh…” she sighed. “Please,” her voice cracked, “it hurts so much, and m’so close to crying and then it’ll hurt worse,” she begged, hardly more than a whisper escaped her.

Harry pressed his lips together, brought her to her room and laid her on top of the covers. He kissed the center of her forehead. Wrapping her up in so many blankets she had in the basket from when her room was an icebox. She coughed something fierce, making Harry nearly want to cry for her. She moaned and fell back against her pillow and then was so silent Harry would have seriously worried for a second that she had died if he hadn’t been able to hear her quiet snore through her stuffy nose.

After assuring himself she was alive, he went to her kitchen. His eyes scanned briefly looking for something to help him help her. All the spices were all lined neatly in a shallow little tray—like one you would use to carry items on the patio in the summer. Harry quickly removed them all, leaving them on the counter and searched through her drawers and cabinets looking for things that she would need.

Medicine—cold, flu, anti-inflammatory, pain relievers, cough drops. All of it went on the tray. Next, he grabbed one of her water cups filled in the fridge and placed it with the medicine. Had she eaten? He had no idea, but that would have to wait. He would have to order soup from somewhere nearby. Mum swore by chicken noodle. It was medicinal in its own way. He returned to find her still sound asleep.

It was going to kill him to wake her. But his chest hurt knowing she was unwell. “Baby,” he whispered softly. Almost too softly as he set the tray on her dresser. He grabbed a handful of drugs and her water cup and approached her. “Bird, m’love,” he cooed and gently stroked her face again.

“No,” she whimpered. “No, it hurts,” she didn’t open her eyes, but her lashes developed tiny little crystals, breaking his heart as she sniffled.

“No, baby, don’t cry,” he begged stroking her face as lightly as he could. “I have t’give you medicine. Then you go right back t’sleep, I promise, kitten. M’sorry baby. I’m so sorry.”

She cried anyway. Nonetheless, she did as he asked. Harry placed pills at her lips, and she swallowed her medicine, drank three huge gulps of water, all with her eyes closed. Harry put everything on the tray, climbed into her bed, sitting up against the headboard and brought her head down to his lap. Her cries subsided after a few minutes all while Harry hushed her and as carefully as he could massaged her scalp with his fingertips. When the sniffles and tears finally stopped, Harry felt more relieved than when he realized she wasn’t ignoring him, just simply too sick to move.

While she slept, Harry ordered soup from his phone and continued her head massage for a while. When there was a knock on the door for the soup delivery (seven different soups, two chicken noodle, but other options just in case), Harry slowly removed himself from her bed.

He put all the soup on the counter and headed back to her room. He slowly pulled the covers away from her, whatever the cold medicine he gave her was enough to make her boneless. Her body was hard to move but he would do it slowly and carefully to make her feel better.

Even sick, she was adorable. So cute and pretty Harry almost smiled. She wore a plaid dress with large buttons down the center. A shirt below it since the straps were thin and the neckline was low. Slowly he unbuttoned each one and coaxed her sleeping figure out of her outfit. He removed her remaining shoe, then tore the tights off her legs. He made a mental note to buy her another pair. He couldn’t imagine anything more constricting than the elastic digging into her skin when she wasn’t feeling well. His eyes checked her foot, nothing more than a scrape—not too serious of an injury, thankfully.

In just her underwear, he reached beneath her and unhooked her bra, and he swore she sighed with relief as he removed it from her body. He noted a sweatshirt at the end of her bed. He hadn’t seen it before since his focus was on wrapping her in blankets and nothing else. He grabbed it, slid it over her head and she once more sighed, nuzzling into the collar like she was awake. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest as the Under Construction logo stared back at him. When had she taken this? Not that he cared. Did she sleep in it when he wasn’t around? God, she was cute.

“Harry,” she murmured.

Her sweet, adorable self was going to kill him. He practically groaned hearing her sleep-talk about him. Gently he kissed her forehead, wrapped her back up in her blankets, and left the room once more.

The bathroom looked like a crime scene. The shower curtain was half off the rod, some of the plastic rings were broken. Like she crawled to turn the water on and grabbed the curtain to help herself up. His heart clenched at the thought. He propped the vanity cabinet door against the wall. He’d fix that another day when the sound of his drill wouldn’t hurt her aching head. Then he grabbed her other shoe. She even brought her work bag in with her, which was open and spilling onto the floor as well. Some of the papers inside curled from the steam she made from turning the shower on too hot. Good thing she didn’t get in, she would have burned herself.

Everything alright? Louis texted.

She’s real sick. I just gave her some medicine and put her to bed.

Good. She loves to watch Disney movies when she’s sick. Loves ginger ale. Even if it’s not a stomach thing. Swears it soothes her throat. Harry went to the fridge and grabbed a can of soda as well.

Good to know. I’ll put some on. Her head was killing her.

She gets migraines when she’s run down. Harry swore to himself and sighed. He should have known.

Shit. Thanks. I’ll… keep you posted.

Harry returned to her room, she was still asleep, soundly. He felt relieved. He placed her bag by the door and crawled back onto the bed beside her. He continued his scalp massage and eventually, he found himself asleep too.

*

She missed her un-insulated room. It was much too hot, and she thought she was going to combust. She moaned quietly, her head still aching, though she could at least move without fear of passing out or throwing up or both.

Her skin still hurt, and her body ached all over. How did she not have a fever?

“Hey pretty bird,” his voice was low and rumbly in her ear. Good God, did he sound good for her tired body. “Y’awake?” He asked.

She blinked, her head still felt balloon like and not quite attached to her neck as she turned to look up at Harry gazing down at her in the near dark. Everything had a blurry dark gray-blue tint. Like it was about to downpour. “Hmm…” she hummed. Her forehead pounded. She thought her brain was trying to escape. “Harry?” She questioned. She didn’t remember seeing him after school. How did she get home? How did she get in her bed? Was she naked? How did that happen?

There were too many questions and not enough brain power to answer them all.

“Hi baby,” he whispered. Her head might have hurt, and she was sweating beneath the blankets and her Amazonian-like room, but her stomach was working just fine and somersaulted over the softness of Harry calling her baby when she didn’t feel good.

She spent six hours a day, five days a week caring for little ones. Ensuring they were happy, healthy, and learning. She spent an undoubtedly high number thinking about them seven days a week. Since moving out of her parents’ home at eighteen, no one had cared for her or been so gentle with her (especially not Evan) when she was sick since she was young. Not even herself. She tried to push herself up, but Harry gently pushed her back down. “Hey, no, no,” he cooed softly. “Jus’ stay still, yeah?” He asked. “Jus’ rest,” he ordered.

“What…?” She swallowed, the feeling in her throat was dry, sore, painful. She cleared her throat which felt like knives.

“Here,” he slithered lower in her bed and brought the straw of her cup to her lips. The water tasted like chocolate. Not actual chocolate, but the idea of having chocolate prior to getting your period and it tasted so good she wished she could swim in it. He rubbed his thumb on her temple while she sipped, easing the tension she felt in her eyebrows trying to pinch her forehead in the middle. “How are y’feeling, kitten?” His breath was cool and minty. Did he ever smell bad? Probably not. She remembered every unseasonably warm day in October that Harry never smelled gross despite working in the hot sun. What an unfair glitch. She probably smelled like sweat right then. And a cough. Whatever that smelled like. “Y’scared me,” he admitted. “Not quite falling off your roof, but close. Y’do this t’all your boyfriends?” There was a smile in his voice. “S’this a test of some kind?” She snorted and then winced. “Sorry,” he kissed her forehead. “No jokes.”

“Did you undress me?” Was that really the most pressing question she needed answered?

A wave of guilt washed over Harry. He felt his face warm with embarrassment. He was so focused on making her feel better, he hadn’t considered that she wouldn’t want him undressing her unconscious body. “Yes, m’sorry. I jus’ wanted you t’be comfortable,” he frowned. “Did I mess up?” He asked. “M’sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, no,” she said softly and squeezed his hip where her hand rested. She could hear the guilt in his voice and no, she decided, it wasn’t the most pressing question to ask him. She shouldn’t have bothered.  Harry had seen her naked countless times in the last six months. That wasn’t something he should have felt guilty over. “Mi body es su body,” she joked lamely. “I’m sweating,” she said softly and pushed the blankets away from her. Harry helped unravel her from her cocoon. Harry reached across her to grab the remote control to the fan that she normally had blowing on her, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to turn on when she was shivering earlier. He could see her physically deflate once the cool air spilled over her. “I thought I tried showering,” she cleared her throat again. It hurt less since there was water coating her esophagus, but it still ached quite a bit.

“You did,” his frown was still etched on his pretty lips. “Baby, y’scared me so much,” he was so close to her face. “Y’didn’t tell me y’weren’t feeling well. Didn’t answer,” he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re gonna get sick,” she whispered.

“Then I get sick,” he shrugged. But he was pretty confident in his immune system. Even if he was doing manual labor, she worked about two to three times harder than him. Probably more rundown than he was in comparison. “Why didn’t’ y’tell me?” He asked.

She turned her head to cough, and he continued stroking her hair. “I don’t really think straight when I’m sick,” she explained. “I use every spare bit of energy to focus on the kids at school.”

He was downright pouting in the shadowy dark she could barely see him in. “Y’shouldn’t have gone t’work.”

“You don’t know how much more work it is to make sub plans.”

“I would have made them for you,” he assured her. Her chest ached with love for him so hard it felt like a rib was going to crack. “Would have gone in t’teach them even.”

She smiled and willed her tired, overrun body not to cry at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That’s so sweet to offer.”

“You can’t go t’work tomorrow.”

“I feel so much better… what time is it?”

“S’late. I got y’soup. Are y’hungry?”

She sat up slowly, put one hand to her temple and slid out of bed. “I probably need to eat. I skipped lunch in favor of not dying and napping instead.”

“Miss Bird,” Harry frowned and walked her down the hall to her kitchen. She didn’t turn on any lights and she looked at the six cartons of soup on her counter.

“You got me a lot of soup,” she murmured and squinted to read the labels in the semi dark. The low glow of the clock on her stove said it was a little after nine. She sighed. Tomorrow would be better, right? This was the worst of it. Harry opened a soda can, and she turned to see him offer the ginger ale to her. She stared at him in disbelief. “Did you text Louis?”

“Bird, I was scared. I thought I did something wrong or worse y’were hurt,” she was a little too in love with the thought that was the order of severity for him.

“That’s very sweet,” she sipped the cold soda, the bubbles soothing the ache in her throat the way the water had but it was still sweeter and better even though it made no sense.

“What kind of soup do y’want?” He asked.

“Whatever will make me better to deal with six-year-olds by six AM.”

“Y’cannot be serious,” he shook his head and put two pints of soup into the microwave.

“It’s too late for sub plans. If I try to look at a computer right now, I’m sure I’ll have an aneurysm.”

“Kitten. S’not a good idea. You’ll be sick and tired. The kids will—”

“I’ve done this before, I know what I’m doing!” She protested. “I promise.”

“Jus’ because you’ve done it before means y’should. Nor do I agree with you.”

She nodded. She noted that Harry stopped the microwave before it beeped and opened the door as quietly as possible. He poured the soup into bowls and was cautious not to let the spoons clink against the glass. Her heart swam in the warmth of love that crushed her. Harry saw more of her and cared for her more in the last six months (even in the last six hours) than anyone ever had. “I need to shower,” she said while she welcomed the burns that she was giving her tongue and the inside of her mouth as she ate her soup. It felt soothing in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

Harry took the soup away from her and brought it to the small table she had between her kitchen and living room. He came back and tugged her to the chair in front of her bowl. He ate across from her. In the dark. Only the light from the streetlight barely filtering past her blinds.

“Can I stay in the bathroom while y’do?” He asked referring to her statement on showering.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“M’not sure y’understand how nervous y’made me. I’ll leave after that,” he promised.

I don’t want you to leave. It would have been so easy to say. Harry was so comforting, and he felt so good to sleep next to. It seemed she had been asleep for at least five hours, and she wanted nothing more than to stay snuggled next to him. But he had to work tomorrow, and he needed to be awake at four. “Okay,” she sighed. “It’s really not necessary,” she repeated.

“Mmm,” he hummed.

*

Harry made her blow dry her hair, it was loud and made her head throb, but he refused to let her go to bed with wet hair. “You’ll get an ear infection or something,” he insisted. Which sounded like an old wives’ tale, but his thoughtfulness was too much. He gave her another round of medicine and kissed her forehead once he had her comforter tucked around her in bed. “Good night, Miss Bird,” he said softly. “Please consider not going t’work tomorrow,” he repeated.

“Okay,” she whispered softly.

She felt sleepy, warm, cared for, and comforted. She wished she could open her mouth to ask Harry to stay. It felt sad to see him go. Overwhelmed by how bad she was feeling. She knew he would stay. But it wasn’t fair. He hadn’t showered the day off him, and he would be up in a little under six hours by the time he’d get settled in bed in his own house. “S’matter?” He asked.

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just don’t feel good,” she sniffed and tried, tried so hard to push her emotions down so she wouldn’t cry. If she cried, Harry would worry. He would stay and the poor thing probably wanted to go home and sleep in his own bed just as much as she wanted to sleep without pain.

“Hey,” he cooed. “Baby,” and she was done for. Tears spilled over before she could stop them. The dim light from the hall catching those little water crystals like diamonds in the sun. How on earth this beautiful girl made crying look so pretty had to be one of the greatest paradoxes in the world. “No baby, don’t cry,” he swiped the tears away.

“I know you want to go home, but I don’t want you to,” she sniveled.

His heart broke. She was a beautiful grown woman and he loved her so much. She was adorable, just his sweatshirt around her pretty, sick body. Even though Harry had spent hours taking care of her, she still felt like she had to take care of him. “Kitten, I don’t want t’leave you at all. I never want t’leave you, why would y’think that?”

She felt so ridiculous. Sad, tired, sick, run down, exhausted. “Because it’s late and you have to get up early and you haven’t showered and I’m so gross and so much work and it’s—”

“Bird, m’love, shh,” he hushed her ranting and shifted himself on the bed and combed her hair. “Y’can always ask me t’stay,” he whispered. “Shh,” he whispered, shifting her to lay against his chest. He rocked her gently. “M’gonna let y’fall asleep. Then I’ll shower and come right back, yeah?” He offered. “I don’t have t’go anywhere,” he promised.

“Okay,” she sniffled. “I’m sor—”

“Shh,” he kissed the top of her head. “I love you, bird. Go to sleep.”

“I love you too,” she croaked.

“Good, now sleep, baby,” he murmured.

So she had no choice but to listen.

*

Harry’s alarm went off at four. She moaned quietly against his chest. He kissed the top of her head like he’d been awake the whole time waiting to wake her up gently. “M’gonna go home, baby,” that name warmed her. It felt like the medicine he gave her. “S’that okay? I can come back. S’not far. I’ll be quick.” It nearly broke his heart to hear how sad she was last night. He was going to address their living situation as soon as she felt better. This felt like he was going to war and not five minutes around the corner. He could sense her thinking it over in that pretty brain of hers. It spun over in her mind, and she wanted nothing more than to ask but he knew she wouldn’t.

Even in the dark he could see it. “No, that’s alright,” she murmured very softly.

He was already planning on coming back. He shouldn’t have bothered to ask. “Okay, go back t’sleep, bird. I’ll check on you at recess,” he assured her. “How do y’feel?”

“Better.”

It was a little bit of the truth mixed with some untruth. Her head still throbbed, her throat still hurt. But it was better than yesterday. She knew she wasn’t going to have a fever. After a few more mumbled words to Harry, she was only half certain she remembered to say, “I love you,” and only vaguely aware that her front door closed before she was asleep again.

When her alarm went off at six, (what felt like five minutes later from Harry’s departure), she wasn’t the one to turn it off. She groaned softly, turning to find Harry settling her phone back on her nightstand. She frowned immediately, her eyes watering. “You came back,” she whispered keeping up with the thought of Harry going to off to war and not just to his house.

He chuckled quietly, kissed her forehead again. “I couldn’t leave you, kitten. Not when y’feel so poorly, Bird,” he answered. She wondered if she could permanently fix his fingers to her hair and scalp. He smelled so good, again. He showered again and was wearing cologne. Everything about his presence was like a warm hug, physical medicine that would have fixed her up if he wasn’t giving her actual medicine.

“But what about work?”

“I can be late. They know what they’re doing.”

 “I love you, so much.”

He chuckled. “I love you, too, baby.”

“I think I should sleep another hour.”

He nestled further into the pillows, wrapping her close to him, and he kissed her again. “Whatever y’want, kitten.”

*

Harry was insistent on driving in together. He gave her another round of medicine. Got her bag organized, her lunch packed. Hoping it would get her more time to rest while he did those things. He drove her car, parked in her unassigned but assigned parking space. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed to the job site promising once more he would check on her at recess.

Other than completely, totally sweet, she thought nothing more of his kindness. There wasn’t enough time to think about it. There was morning work to deal with, attendance to submit, lunch counts, and all the other parts of her morning routine to take care of while her head felt like someone was hammering the inside of her skull repeatedly. By the time the kids had settled onto the carpet, she wasn’t thinking about Harry (as much as she wanted to). Her head hurt and her kids were needy.

So, she did a true double take while Mae was reading the date and schedule for the day to the rest of the class when the door to her classroom opened. Her jaw dropped and many of her students’ eyes followed her gaze.

“Mr. Harry!” Hadley shouted.

Any of the students that hadn’t turned to him all turned to the door at that moment. There was visitor sticker on his chest. He was wearing regular clothes. A long-sleeved shirt, a pair of jeans, and trainers instead of work boots.

The excitement unfolded quickly. Her minor wince made his heart ache for her. It was his fault; he caused the excitement. “Hey, hey, hocus pocus,” he called gently.

“Everybody focus!”

She now understood why Harry found that so attractive when she did that. That was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen him do. (And he did this thing with his tongue that was truly mind-blowing.) She coughed into her elbow and shook her head. “Mr. Harry… We weren’t expecting you,” she said quietly.

He smiled. “I was thinking I haven’t been t’school in a long time and I wanted t’do some learning. Do we have an extra spot for me today?”

The group cheered while she sneezed into her tissue. She wiped her nose daintily, dropped it into the small trash can he had no doubt was filled with tissues already and knew the can was following her around the classroom.

“Miss Bee is sick,” Brayden explained.

Her cheeks turned pink which was great because she needed a bit of color for Harry to allow her to stay and not drag her out the room and back home. She used hand sanitizer attached to her lanyard. “Is she?” He frowned. He thought of the sweet girl crying into his shirt as she fell asleep last night. She looked so normal right now. Pretending. Hiding. Showing up for her students because she loved them beyond her own well-being.

Well, two could play at that game.

“You don’t have to work?” She asked suspiciously.

“Nope,” he said simply. “School’s more important.”

She rolled her lips into her mouth and hid her cough in her elbow again. Harry winked at her and took a seat on her carpet. Janie giggled as his big body overflowed the square he picked. He gave Janie a high five and she was pretty certain one over her ovaries was popping. Everyone was still kind of giggly over his presence. “Think we gotta let Mae continue, yeah?”

Her heart simply burst.

*

During reading time, Harry read a chapter of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for her. Like he read to the group every day. Harry asked questions. Good questions. Prompted them to think, ask their own questions, make predictions. How could she possibly love him more? He walked around to her groups when she was too tired to check on them. When she coughed too hard, he brought her water cup across the room. He made sure she ate lunch, walked around the perimeter of the playground (stopping at the fence to get a hot cup of tea from Niall to soothe her throat).

When the kids went to specials, she stared at Harry. “You can’t skip work every time I’m sick.”

He simply smiled, continued helping her clean, and organized while they were gone. “Watch me, baby.”

Her cheeks burned.

But truth be told he was exhausted. More exhausted than he thought. She did this every day? Teachers should be paid triple. Double that amount in March. In like a lion out like a lamb was wrong. In like a lion out like a tornado was more like it.

Harry would need a counter next time. She must have repeated directions eight times in the span of a minute. Settling student disputes and sending an email at the same time was a choreographed dance. She punched the straw through three juice boxes while reading the slide off the SmartBoard at the same time. All while feeling like death warmed over.

He knew she was a superhero. He didn’t need proof. But it was something else to watch up close.

“What?” She sniffled. Not once did she complain about her head, the cough, her sneeze. “Do I have snot on my face? I’m gonna crawl in a hole and—”

“You are incredible Miss Bird. Everyone in the world should have t’go t’school for a day. But everyone should have to try a day in your classroom.”

She smiled weakly. “Some days are easier than others.”

“Did I make today easier?”

She nodded. “Yes. So much so. That was….” She shook her head. “Thank you. I needed that.”

He smiled. “Good.”

*

She skipped family dinner. She was sick and wanted to lounge in bed. She was going to be behind in life, work, and at home for a week. But it was the best she could do.

She ate one of the soups Harry left for dinner. Then he came around at six PM. “Hey, pretty bird, did y’nap?”

God, she loved him. She loved him so much it seemed insane that she did anything but say it. There should be no work. No jobs. She should just be required to say “Harry I love you” twenty-four hours a day, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year.

“And had soup,” she murmured into his shirt. He smelled so good. There was a bag over his shoulder.

“Good girl,” he scooped her up behind her thighs, wrapped them around his hips and carried her to her bedroom. He deposited her gently on the bed and then dropped his bag.

“Are you staying?” There was a lot of hope in her voice.

“M-hmm,” he stripped instantly making her heart flutter. He pulled a pair of sweat from his bag and over his legs followed by a T-shirt. “Ratatouille sound good?”

“Louis is a tattletale,” she stated.

He kissed the top of her head and headed to the kitchen to get his own pint of soup. “S’not tattling if we have a safety concern, kitten.”

*

The next day, her brain didn’t feel quite as balloon-like. The cough and sneezing had subsided enough to a manageable level.

But she swore all of it came roaring back when Evan appeared at the end of the day. Like a contagion in his own right. Harry’s gaze was ever-present and warm on the side of her face. Hot, really. She could feel it intensely—more so than the other days. “Milo buddy, watch your shoes.”

She imagined hitting him with one of Milo’s shoes repeatedly. Fortunately, the little one didn’t notice her need for bodily harm.

“Uncle Ev, Miss Bee’s boyfriend came to school yesterday.”

Her heart stopped and she choked on her own spit followed by a massive coughing fit. Evan stared at her with disdain, as did Milo (with curiosity however). She had a hand on her throat, surprised by Milo’s confession. If Evan was bothered by her relationship status, there was no outward expression to indicate it.

“Y’okay, Miss Bee?” Oh Lord.

Harry was suddenly there looking at her like she had a bone protruding. He pulled a water bottle from behind his back. His back pocket?

“Hi Mr. Harry!” Milo bloomed.

“Hey lad, how was kindergarten today? How’s our latest book?” He asked, squeezing his shoulder while avoiding touching Evan.

“I can read Green Eggs and Ham all by myself!”

“S’awesome, lad,” he held his hand out for a high five all while Evan stared in disbelief and she sipped from the bottle.

“Harry helpeded me how to sound out words I don’t know like Miss Bee,” Milo explained.

“Helped, my love,” she said very gently.

He grinned at both Milo and her. Harry hardly looked at Evan. But his eyes couldn’t leave Harry alone. She couldn’t blame him—he was incredible. “I’m sorry. We haven’t met, are you a teachers aid?” He said it condescendingly.

“I wish,” Harry snorted. “Harry Styles. I’m the foreman on the jobsite next door,” he held his hand out for Evan to shake.

“I’m going to work for him when I’m older,” Milo told his uncle.

Could she adopt him? The look of shock on Evan’s face made her want to take a picture.

“Maybe by then I’ll be working for you, lad,” Harry winked.

Could she marry Harry? They’d be a cute little family.

“I’m sorry. I’m lost.”

“Mr. Harry plays with us sometimes,” Milo shrugged casually. Like it was obvious and normal. “Sometimes he volunteers in Miss Bee’s room and fixes everything, Uncle Ev. He knows how to fix everything. He fixed Miss Bee’s desk, her bookshelf, her closet. Maybe he could fix the hole in your wall at home for you!”

Adopt, adopt, adopt, adopt. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. Harry chuckled quietly. “I’d be happy t’look at it,” he popped one shoulder up knowing full and well that Evan would never ask Harry for help with home improvements.

“Hmm. Right. Well. Do you have any qualifications teaching?”

“No, but I got a niece m’awfully fond of myself,” he said proudly. “And Miss Bee is a pretty good teacher to show me some of the ropes.”

“Mr. Harry is like Miss Bee. He’s in charge of his crew on the site. It’s so cool Uncle Evan.”

She wondered if he would explode. Harry paid no attention to the praise. “Just came t’check on you,” he put a hand on her lower back briefly. “Y’need help today?” He asked. “I’ll meet y’down in your room. Nice meeting you, Evan. Milo, lad, see you later alligator?”

“In a while crocodile!”

The silence that ensued was deafening. “You have a boyfriend that volunteers in your classroom?” He asked. The distaste in his voice was enough to make her skin crawl but she nodded.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Is that legal?”

She wanted to scream. “Perfectly. He’s got a background check on file, and he doesn’t volunteer the whole day. Yesterday was the first day. I can assure you, he’s a great volunteer, just like any other parent volunteer I’ve had in the past,” it wasn’t unusual for parents to offer volunteer services. Not to the degree Harry was offering them but that probably was the perk of dating him. “The kids like him and his partner, Niall. They say hi to them at recess.”

Evan stared at her. “He spends all that time in your classroom and helping you out for a measly five minutes of a relationship per day?”

She straightened her back, inhaled as best she could through her stuffy nose, and turned her attention to Milo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my love, alright?” She grinned sweetly. “Evan,” she muttered and headed back inside.

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If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[chimielie]

cw: demon au, slightly freaky, ooc sae sorry 😔

"What is that perfume?" Your boyfriend wants to know, dipping his head to inhale a little closer to your skin. You shift your weight from foot to foot, the scent wafting off of you. "Did you seriously—"

You sniff, crossing your arms, refusing to look at him. It's ballsy, resisting the Crown Prince of Hell like this, but that's why Sae likes you, you suppose.

"Church incense," you say. "It's meant to smell like raw meat on the dry-down, though. You would've probably liked that."

"You are impossible," he says. There's an event tonight, one of the few he attends under serious threat from his father. As always, he's perfectly buttoned up, his collar starched, his horns curling up from his pink hair. "Is this because of earlier?"

“Obviously,” you toss your head, sending more of the scent drifting his way. He wrinkles his nose and leans away from you slightly before he can catch himself.

"I apologized," he says.

"That was not an apology," you scoff. "You said 'I didn't mean to insult you' which neither addresses that you did fucking insult me nor is an apology!"

Sae, in his classically nonverbal style, attempts to wrap an arm around your waist but is repelled an inch above your skin. "Did you shower in holy water?"

"It's body mist," you say primly. "Serves two purposes."

"Which are?"

"One, punishment, and two, Rin will be pleased that we can't touch. I think he nearly vomited at the last dinner after we came back from the bathroom."

"You won't let me touch you because my little brother is being pissy?" Sae attempts to loom over you menacingly, but you hold steady, adjusting your jewelry with nonchalance.

"I won't let you touch me because you're an inconsiderate prick, which is the same reason your little brother is pissy."

"At least no one else will be able to," he mutters, more to himself than to you. No one's ever been stupid enough to touch what has been so obviously claimed, but Sae is, on occasion, less than rational about this sort of thing.

"Like I'd let them," you say. Something flares in his gaze, the fatal sin of pride that drips from his pores.

"Fine," he dips his chin, crossing to the door and holding it open for you. "Let's go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get home." As you cross the threshold, you can feel the weight of his gaze on his back. "You can douse yourself in all the holy water you want. Your body will obey me with or without my touch."

[skeletoninthemelonland]

In case it hasn't been made clear, Behind The Codes is not a horror series. Despite having some disturbing themes, it doesn't focus on them the same way FNAF games did.

[teamred]

focus on me

✩‌ qimir x acolyte!reader | smut | fluff | 2.5k

SUMMARY | in which the tension finally breaks between you and your master when you train together one afternoon.

WARNINGS | smut, s*xual force choking, knee foreplay, finger sucking, f*ngering, dirty talk, piv s*x, unprotected s*x, violence (fighting and choking)

RATING | explicit

NOTES | i'm simply a girl who's fallen to the dark side for qimir!!! qimir's lowkey a softie in this, which might not be canon, but idc!!!

You stumble back with your palm soiled wet. 

Thankfully, you grounded the rest of your weight with your makeshift wooden staff. Panting, you drag yourself upward, readying yourself for what’s to come next. 

Sweat drips down your forehead as the sun begins to dip into the horizon beyond the abundance of trees and overgrowth, the heat felt by your exposed arms and through your thin sleeveless wrap top.

It's been more than two hours of training, but your master knows your limit. Pushes you until you break–and he knows you’re far from your breaking point. 

Perspiration also stains his forehead. Master Qimir wipes it away with the back of his hand, moving his hair aside too. 

Moments like these, you pride yourself in knowing his identity after years of him preserving his anonymity behind that intimidating, powerful mask. He’s gained followers over time since you've known him, but you’re his one and only acolyte. 

Your mind wanders further. Why does he choose to wear his mask in public when he can make nations fall to their knees just with a flash of his smirk? 

Said smirk is plastered on his face as he twirls his two batons between his fingers with ease. Beyond his smirk, there was also the ordeal of seeing his glistening, gorgeous arms every day and– 

Your master calls out your name playfully, “I hope you’re focusing on me.”

“You know I am, Master.” You’re not exactly lying. You inch closer, holding your staff firmly with both hands and pointing one end of it in his direction. 

He tsks and lets out of a deep chuckle. It always bothers you how his chuckles make your heart skip a beat, among the other things it does to the rest of your body.  

“You're focusing on things about me, Acolyte. Not on me directly, nor on my presence,”—he paces in a circle around you, with you tracking his every step—“If this was a real fight, you’d be dead.”

“Well, I can’t help it that my master can be so distracting!” you grit out, taking the opportunity to lunge towards him. 

Weapons clash. Loud echoes continually reverberate throughout the forest, along with your occasional grunts. 

Master Qimir’s style is aggressive and swift, always on the offense, so you’ve become accustomed to defend his moves well. He comes in with one baton towards your side, and the other towards your head. You deflect both smoothly, and without much thought, you decide to attack him. 

However, your confidence blinds you.

Too close. 

He elbows your arm and slams into your side, causing your staff to drop.  

Then, Qimir shoves you far with the Force, distancing you from your weapon, and gets close again to hook his foot around yours. Your back stings as you fall down. 

In the blink of an eye, he pins you down with both batons tightly pressed against your throat, cutting off your air supply. You struggle under him, trying your best to smack him away with your diminishing strength. 

“Breathe, think, and focus,” he calmly orders, despite the agonizing scene in front of him. 

You take a second to compose yourself, inhaling as much as you can for a second.

Suddenly, you feel his knee move up between your legs, spreading them.

And you feel him moving upwards again, but this time brushing against your core. 

Your sparring composure absolutely shatters–a gasp and small moan release, and you’re back to struggling once more. 

You assume it was a mistake, but you’re relishing in the pleasure nevertheless, even in your current state of distress. 

“Focus, my acolyte,” Master Qimir barks, and he presses the batons harder into you. “Focus!” 

Your vision begins to blur alongside the increasing pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Gathering all your might and wanting to avoid disappointing Qimir, you breathe as much as you can and drown out everything to focus on how to get out of the situation. 

With a sliver of consciousness left, you will yourself to use the Force and seize your staff. Your fingers clutch around it and you thwack Qimir hard on the head, disorienting him for a moment. Without hesitation, throughout your excessive gasping, you skillfully maneuver yourself to switch positions. 

Now, your staff is pressed against his throat. 

“Is this better, Master?” you pant and cough with a grin, basking in your success. “Am I focused now?” 

He grants a brief nod, but you notice an unusual look in his eyes. 

It reads as a rare time he’s overly impressed, but there’s something else. 

Qimir raises his hand and gently curls it around yours, wordlessly asking you to lower your weapon. You ruffle your eyebrows, unsure why he’s letting down his guard against you during training.

“Master Qimir,” you whisper, still holding your staff to the side with a relaxed but guarded grip, “is this another test of yours?”  

He shakes his head, his touch now carefully grazing your forehead and cheeks. Your staff rolls away as your eyes flutter, savoring this foreign feeling from him–tenderness, affection, warmth. A hand softly cups your face. 

“Training’s over for today.” 

The warmth fades into familiar roughness with a sharp pull by the back of your neck downwards. 

His mouth drives into yours, each kiss igniting fire within you, sparking every inch of your body. Desire is bursting at the seams. He kneads your neck and body intently, mirroring you as you clutch onto his face and sturdy frame. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you had never fantasized kissing Qimir before, but this is everything you dreamed of and better.  

“Master–” you gasp sharply at the sensation of him pressing his knee up against you again. Reflexively, you writhe as your body screams for more. 

“You like this a lot…” His tone drips of arrogance. Further pressure is added and he happily inhales your moans between his teasing chuckles.   

You manage to muster the following amidst the rising pleasure, “So it was intentional before.”

“Of course.” His words are muffled as he leaves open-mouthed kisses upon the side of your neck. Your fingers dig further into his shoulder and scalp as he cups your breast. “You need to learn to push aside your desires when training.” 

“Should we stop then?” The neck kissing sears you, especially when he tugs skin between his teeth to bite and suck. “To teach me a lesson?” 

He shakes his head and removes himself from your neck, coming back up to drag your lower lip between his teeth. 

“It doesn’t mean I want to push aside my desires.” 

You catch a fleeting glimpse of his signature smirk before his lips are on yours again. Kisses become more electric as he dips his tongue into your mouth.

Hands fly erratically and grasp everywhere. His arms. Your ass. Fingers running beneath his top, feeling up his abs. His harsh grips of your thighs. 

Unexpectedly, he holds you close and flips you over; you’re back on top of him again and you can surely feel his prominent desire against yours. 

In a rush, you bunch up his thin shirt and attempt to pull it off him. He sits up with you in his lap and, with a fluid flick of his wrist, he rids you of your clothes and they are tossed to one side; his follow suit. Qimir promptly draws his nearby robes closer to be placed underneath you both, covering yourselves from the soiled forest. 

The look in his eyes is unmistakably lust-filled, completely insatiable. He wastes no time in taking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking and lips puckering, while one hand holds you by your back and the other dips two fingers into your desire, wet and ready for him. 

You arch into him, leaning your head back and letting yourself go. Wanting to reciprocate, you reach out to stroke his cock. Relishing in the pleasure, he draws back his head, eyes closed, and leans his forehead against your chest.

The forest may be filled with the rustling of the wind against the trees and the odd bird cawing, but all you can focus on is Qimir’s throaty groans and every obscene squelch when he slides his fingers in and out of you. 

He glances up and attempts to open his eyes as much as he can to give you his full attention, despite the heavenly strokes you’re giving him. 

Eyes shine back at you with the utmost vulnerability–a sight you never see. A sight that you want to etch into your memory forever, knowing you, his Acolyte, could make your Master weak and let his guard down with just your touch. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve held myself back…”

The vulnerability dissipates as he darts his tongue against your untouched nipple. 

“...wanting to see you like this for me.” 

You two become one for a while as he plays with you like a toy he just received as a gift. He tries you out, sees what you like and what you can handle. How sensitive you are with your breasts. How many fingers you can take. How much noise you make when he thumbs your clit. 

At one point, he eventually removes his fingers from you, evidently drenched from your bliss. He holds out his fingers in front of you, and you realize what he’s suggesting.   

Obediently, like you always are with him, you open your mouth and let his fingers lay on your tongue. You wrap your mouth around them, and finally let yourself suck on them a bit, tasting yourself and treating his fingers as if it were his cock. 

When you finish, to your surprise, he sticks his fingers into his own mouth, sucking off the remnants of you. He then kisses you deeply. Tasting yourself in his mouth excites you, riles you up again and back to wanting the next step with Qimir. 

As if reading your mind, he adjusts himself to lay back down vertically, and takes you by your wrist to lead you to sit onto him. 

You hold his possession against you between your legs, teasing his tip by not quite sitting onto him fully, indulging in your control over him. However, at this point, Qimir lacks patience, so he grasps you by your waist and forces you to ease onto his length.  

The guttural moan you release could easily be heard at all ends of the forest. 

He fills you deliciously, stretches you in the sweetest way possible. Using the strength of your thighs and your hands to keep you steady, you bounce at a comfortable pace, not wanting this to end just yet.

When you find a good position to balance your weight, you allow yourself to stroke his perfect body. His chiseled abs. The solid planes of his chest. His strong forearms. The sharp jawline that you dream of kissing almost every night.

“You take my cock so well.” 

A more familiar look flashes through his eyes, one that you normally see him flash prior to slaying Jedi or when he's in a bad mood. It’s drenched with darkness and dominance, almost bordering on fury.   

You freeze, and then you feel it.

The constriction around your throat, created by the Force. He can easily kill you within seconds. He's done this only once to you, and that was when he was testing your loyalty to him years ago.

But this is different. Different than that time, and most definitely different than before with his batons. This is more controlled; the hold is mostly against the sides of your windpipe and it isn't overtly harsh. 

On top of that, your entire body is on fire, becoming wound up by this act.  

“Do you enjoy this?” he asks, tone teetering between curiosity and being threatening.

“Yes,” you mentally scream.

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“Yes,” you manage to croak. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Master.” 

“Nu-uh,” he says. “Say my name, my beautiful acolyte.”

You're too distracted to be caught up in the fact that he called you beautiful. Instinctively, you want to ride this new sensation to lead you to another high. But you know that if you don’t reply, he might not let you get there. 

“Yes, Qimir.”

His signature smirk takes up his whole face and your pussy clenches tighter at the sight of it. He may have the upper hand with his strength around your neck, but so do you when you notice the flickering of his eyes.

“And how does my cock feel?” He tightens a little more around your throat, and you're affected further. Qimir's collectedness can only take much longer too.

“Feels good, feels so fucking good…” 

Intoxication rises from your abdomen and to all ends of your body. Your eyes begin to roll, and you're so close— 

And it's gone. The tightness on your throat stops, and so is your near-high.

You're about to complain, but Qimir quickly hauls you in close to his body. Face to face, forehead to forehead, your breaths fan one another.

“Before I let either of us finish, I want to hear you say my name as you come on my cock.”

That smirk will be the absolute death of you, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Can you do that for me?” 

You nod breathlessly.

Your master holds you by your waist and immediately thrusts over and over, deep and fast into you. Desperate to reach his climax, and to ensure you get to yours too.

“QimirQimirQimir–” 

And so you unravel, voice rising with every iteration. Saying his name like you’re praying for forgiveness from all ends of the universe. 

Qimir then brings his mouth to yours once more, swallowing all your pretty whimpers and allowing himself to chase his own release moments later. 

Laying on his bare chest, you glance up at him and wonder how the relationship between you will be from now on.

You couldn’t just go back to what you were before; you would now be a master and acolyte intertwined sexually at least, romantically at most. Would it not be complicated? 

But of course, Master Qimir can hear what’s going on in your mind, and he doesn’t even need the Force to do so. Being his enigmatic self, he merely answers your thoughts by speaking the Sith Code: 

“‘Peace is a lie. There is only passion…’” 

He meets your eyes, strokes your face with a small smile. Affection blooms in your chest.

“‘Through passion, I gain strength.’” 

Holds your hand against his beating chest. 

“‘Through strength, I gain power.’” 

His grip tightens. 

“‘Through power, I gain victory. And through victory, my chains are broken.’” 

Qimir leans in and kisses you deeply as the darkness of the night sky engulfs you, the sun saying its goodbye for the night.

And with that, you realize that no matter what will happen from here on out, he’ll always care for you. 

That despite all the blood, sweat, and tears shed through training, stealing, and all the killing, he’s just as loyal and devoted to you as you are to him.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny Is A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

(not in a necessarily bad way and it's by Clockwork's design)

Bats, or Constantine, or the JL, or whoever you want to be close to Danny in this prompt, don't notice it right away. It takes them a while to figure out its not purely coincidence. And even after they do figure it out, they still have their doubts.

The thing is, it doesn't work all the time. It also doesn't seem to have a system or a schedule to it, nor is it any kind of a superpower, as far as they can understand. By God, does Danny have way too many superpowers, but most of them are consistent, and yet this one... is weird. Weirder than anything they've seen before, and they've seen a lot, okay.

It also only works if Danny does it without thinking.

"You know what'd be perfect right now? A cheese sandwich," Danny says over the comms, in the middle of the fight with Dr. Freeze, "A warm, grilled cheese sandwich just out of the toas- Owch, what?" There's a pause. And then, "Guys, you're not gonna believe it, a cheese sandwich just smacked me in the face! I think someone threw it out of the window or something!" Danny sounds bewildered, but excited, and there's a sound of chewing from his comm now. At least he is eating, so that's good.

"I fucking hate robots," he grumbles the other day, punching his way through the Brainiac invasion in Metropolis, with no comm and only for the Supes to overhear, "No, correction, I hate only evil robots. The ones that interrupt my astronomy class. The ones that shoot motherfucking lasers and walk like crabs, and ruin a perfect day, and- I wish- aw, fuck, no, that's bad wording. Don't wish for shit. But if all these robots would just suddenly, miraculously malfunction and stop attacking me and the whole city, that would be, like, real nice of them."

A few minutes later, something goes wrong with the Brainiac's control over the army of robots, and all of them just stop moving and fall down at once. It is deemed as a chance, a lucky shot, a coincidence. Supes keeps quiet over what he heard Danny say.

"Oh, you bitch-ass fruitloop, you know what I want?" Danny yells at Plasmius, as the ghost is laughing like a madman, "I want a fucking brick to fall down right on your head, like, right now! Maybe that can set your brains straight for at least five minutes!" And even before he is finished talking, there's something falling down from the sky and hitting Plasmius's head. It's not a brick, to be exact, it's Miss Martian's shoe, though. She has no idea how it even came undone and fell from her foot. But it did somehow knock Plasmius out cold, so there's that.

It doesn't happen all the time. Red Robin does the math - the improbable accidents only happen in about 26% of the situations, given that Danny says something. It's by no means a reliable power. It also doesn't happen only during the fights: there were numerous times when Danny just said something like 'I wonder if the cafeteria serves garlic bread today' and sure enough, there's garlic bread there. Even if it was not on the menu. Ever.

They try to question Danny himself, but he has no idea. He doesn't even notice the coincidences most of the times - which is not surprising, knowing that they only happen in one out of four situations and Danny is known to have a short attention span. So, after a few unsuccessful investigations and failed attempts at calculating how this even works, they all give up. It has never jinxed anything, as far as they know, so everyone just leaves it be.

Danny is just magically lucky like that.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is having a good laugh about it. Danny's suggestions amuse him, and it's funny to watch the other superheroes having a mental breakdown over it, so he rigs the timeline from time to time. Just a little.

[bluudsucka]

i'm so tender on you - stack m. x fem!reader

summary: the smokestack twins left mississippi for bigger and better things, they were big fishes in a small pond, but that doesn't negate the sting you felt when stack, your boyfriend, left town without a uttering a word about it to you. not even call nor a letter to let you know he was safe in the big city of chicago. rumors on the streets about the twins return bubbled over - they were hosting a cookout and the whole neighborhood was invited - including you.

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex, slight mentions of cheating, slight toxic dynamics, slight mentions of drugs, set in the 90s, light mary slander (lmaoo)

author's note: ahahaa i had a lot of fun writing this ya'll omg, this one is pretty long i just couldn't help myself!! thanks for reading ya'll much appreciated <3

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The faint sounds of Saturday morning cartoons muffled within the background of your room; it was hot today - unbearably so, and it killed you that the AC in your bedroom was busted. Your grandpa said he'd get it fix, urging you not to waste your money on a new one. One thing about your grandad - he was a staunch penny pincher - always claiming he could fix something. Stating that your generation couldn't keep money in their pockets if their life depended on it. Always splurging on unnecessary 'foolishness'. But it seemed like every time he would tinker with your AC the worse it got.

You were gonna go out and buy one today, preparing for a long winded lecture - but you'd rather hear his complaints than sitting in a hot ass house. Your niece, who was only eight years old, sat on the floor at the foot of your bed. Her brown eyes watched the cartoon in front of her intensely, Tom and Jerry was her favorite - and the only cartoon you'd tolerate watching with her. You just got done doing her hair, the twist were held in place with pink Bobos with white and pink butterfly barrettes at end of the twist.

You were glad to be done with her hair - the girl was tender headed and it felt like you were entering a boxing match every time you attempted to comb and brush through her thick tresses. You hunched over on the bed, painting your toe nails with your favorite red nail polish from your local beauty supply and your head rested on the phone that was between your shoulder and ear - listening to your best friend, Pearline, on the other side of the phone.

She wanted you to go to a kickback with her; she was messing with Sammie aka Preacher Boy who lived around the block from you. She would gush about him saying that he was the sweetest man she'd ever been with - not to mention he had the best head - telling you stories about how good he would eat her out. You would spit out a: "Girl!" every time she would share a little too much, but you were happy for her - maybe a tad bit jealous too.

You didn't want Sammie - he was like a little brother to you; it was his older cousin that made your heart race. You and Stack had a thing in the past, the relationship was heavy, intense, and passionate. You genuinely thought that he could be the one, but out of the blue he left Mississippi - with his twin brother in tow - without uttering a word about it to you. And to makes matters worse the week that he up and ghosted you found out he was fucking another girl on the side.

Mary.

You were heart broken, blowing up his pager in hopes to get some sort of answers from him - but he ignored you like the plague. Which meant you two were done.

"Who all gone be there?" You asked Pearline, careful hands slowly painted your big toe with cherry nail polish.

"Everybody, that's why you should come - it'll be fun!" She replied, you could tell she was hiding something from you.

"Who is everybody?"

A pause lingered onto the conversation, which earned an eye roll from you.

Of course...He'd be there.

News spread like wild fire around the neighborhood about the twins coming back home; you couldn't avoid the whispers about them. You were cool with Smoke - even though he kept to himself and was hard to read, but you knew he was a genuine man that held good morals within his heart.

But Stack?

He was a trifling ass man who only looked out for himself - though you did admire his fierce loyalty he had for his brother and little cousin, Sammie. But you wished that his loyalty extended towards you.

"I'm not goin', sorry sis. You have fun, though." You said cutting through the tension between you and Pearline - which made her sigh in annoyance.

"You not even gonna see him, I doubt he'd be there."

"Isn't the party at Smoke's place? You think his twin brother ain't gonna be there? Please, Stack follows Smoke around like his damn shadow." You shot back in a matter of fact tone. She couldn't argue against you about it - you were right.

If you saw one twin, the other was close by.

"Please, please come with me! I know you're still raw about it--"

"You goddamn right I'm still raw. Pearline, he left me without giving me the courtesy of tellin' me and on top of that, after everything I did for his sorry ass, he went and fucked that bitch Mary!" You shouted, cutting your friend off in the middle of her sentence.

"Swear words." Your baby niece chimed in, ear hustling the conversation you had on the phone, she couldn't understand what you were talking about due to her age, but you gave her a light mean mug - not serious enough to hurt her feelings.

"You stay outta grown folks business, watch the show or Imma kick you out my room." You reprimanded which made the girl turn her attention back onto the cartoon. A chuckle hit your ear again, Pearline's light laughter made you playfully roll your eyes.

"Look, sis. I get it - I do. But I know you don't wanna be sittin' in that hot ass house sad all night. Come out with me! Enjoy some good food, music, 'allat stuff. Fuck him, don't let him ruin your mood," she then paused as and you could tell she was smiling from ear to ear. "And some fine ass men will be there - single. It's about time you broke that dry spell."

You thought about the words she said and you thought about the pros and cons of going to the party. The pros: free booze, free bud, good music, great food, seeing friends, and potentially getting flattered by some fine ass dudes.

Cons: Elias "Stack" Moore.

"If I come you better make sure you keep him away from me." You whispered out, closing the nail polish and placing it on your wooden end table, a high pitch static scream of excitement pierced your ear through the phone - a smile clinging to your face.

"Ah! Of course! I'll come over at three - I need you to fix my hair; this girl I went to fucked me up."

"I told you! You should've just waited for me to do it."

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If it was hot inside - it was scorching outside. Sweat already formed on your body as you and Pearline walked side by side towards Smoke's home - the sound of music blast through the speakers and the smell of barbeque floated within the air made your mouth slightly water. You were ready to dance and eat. Tucking your braids behind your ear, you Pearline towards the backyard were the party resided. Opening the chain linked gate - her eyes lit up as she saw Sammie walking towards her.

"Hey, baby," He said, planting a tender kiss on her lips, holding her close towards his body. His brown irises then landed on you, giving you a warm smile. "Whatssup?" Sammie greeted you and you gave him a quick hello.

"I didn't think you was coming." Sammie chuckled out as his arm wrapped around Pearline's shoulders, lovingly leaning his weight slightly on her smaller frame.

"I wasn't - but your lil' girlfriend forced me." You jested back, which made Pearline dramatically gasp, her hand playfully slapping the warm skin on your arm.

"Sounds like her, c'mon, it's hot out here, I know you ladies could use a cold drink." Sammie tilted his head back towards the crowd that danced in the large backyard, signaling for you to follow him. The thumping of music reverberated through your body as you followed behind the couple, passing the speakers and towards the multiple coolers, 'hellos' rolling off of your lips as you briefly greeted familiar faces you saw around the neighborhood. Pearline was right - everyone was here.

"Water, beer, soda, or juice?" Sammie asked.

"Water, please." Pearline spoke as she rubbed Sammie's back, her giddy smile never fading.

"Ugh, ya'll don't got liquor?" You asked, trying your best to mask your slightly annoyed face - but Sammie could tell you weren't feeling the options he gave. With a chuckle, handing Pearline a water bottle he spoke: "We don't, technically. It's bring your own booze - but since we know you; ask Smoke, he got some stashed away, only for family."

"And I'm guessing that's the same for bud, too?" You asked with crossed arms, and Sammie nodded.

"Yea', but you're a girl, I doubt you have trouble findin' somebody who let you face a blunt or two." Sammie shrugged, which earned a jab to the side from Pearline, he quickly reassured he was only kidding.

But you knew there was some truth to within his joke. You're a pretty girl - and most of these men at the party were thirsty just to be in your presence.

"Well I ain't gonna hover over ya'll all night, I'm gonna find Smoke - I need a shot," you said but before you left you took one last gaze at Pearline, her brown eyes gazing back at you knowingly. "Make sure he don't come nowhere near me - let me know if you see him..."

"Mhm, don't worry about it." She replied.

Pushing through the crowd your eyes scanned multiple faces, trying to find the older twin within all the commotion. Couples grind against each other, oldheads getting drunk off of beers, and multiple friend groups huddled up. Some playing cards while others shared neighborhood gossip. The backyard was packed and you were thankful that there were trees around, creating multiple shady spots to cool off when needed. Noticing a familiar face leaning against a tree you slyly walked over towards him, a soft smile clinging onto your plump lips.

"Ah! If it isn't lil' big brother!" You shouted slightly over the blaring music, making Smoke snap his head towards you. Chewing on a toothpick that rested in his mouth he dipped his head towards you in respect. Smoke looked so different than the last time you saw him, he was taller and he had a stronger built. Smoke was never a scrawny man - but you could tell that he's been in the gym as his thick biceps flex with each movements of his arms.

"Whatssup," Smoke said as a sliver of a smile danced on his lips. He gave you a side hug, squeezing your shoulder slightly before letting go of you. "How you been?"

"Been better, hangin' in there, you know how it is. But whatssup with you? The big city got too small for ya'll?" You asked, you were nosy and you were unsuccessfully dry begging some information on Stack - and it seemed like Smoke could tell your intentions. Yes, you didn't want to be around Stack - and yes, you despise that man. But you also still have some love for him, even if it pained you to admit that. He held you down through some of your darkest hours; during those days were you didn't have the strength to get out of bed. Sticking to guy code and loyalty to his little brother, Smoke wouldn't spill anything to you and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Somethin' like that." He muttered as his brown eyes flicked towards the crowd quickly, making sure that people wouldn't get too rowdy in his backyard.

"Mhm, still tightlipped as ever," you sighed, resting your hands on your hips. "Sammie told me to talk to you about getting some liquor - ya'll got tequila?"

"Light or dark?"

"Dark - you already know I don't drink that light shit." You answered. Smoke tilted his head towards his home, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth as he muttered - he didn't want the party patrons getting the idea of raiding his liquor cabinet. Or worse; pestering him to spare a bottle or two.

"Inside, pass the kitchen, turn on your left. Should see a cabinet with what you lookin for." Smoke quickly replied, his deep southern accent cutting through the loud bass of the music playing.

"Thanks, Smoke."

"Don't let nobody know where you got it from and keep them outta my house. Bad enough these folks trashin' my backyard."

You gave Smoke a wide and toothy smile - some of your teeth were covered in gold caps, they weren't permanents like Smoke's or Stack's - but you would always wear them when 'special' occasions happened. And besides Stack gifted them to you on your birthday; one of the gems that adorned your gold teeth was your birthstone.

Weaving through the dancing crowd your shoulders brushing against distant relatives and strangers you would see around the neighborhood. The sweet barbeque smoke curled into the thick summer air - the smell of cooked meat, spices, and vegetables cutting through the scent of sweat, weed smoke, and spilled beer. Passing through a group that huddled around a small folding table the sound of glass bottles clinking against each other and cheers made you smile.

Today was a good day, you loved being around such good vibrations.

Stepping up onto the cracked slab of the concrete patio, your hands yanked open the sticky glass sliding door that separated the backyard chaos and the calm empty house. The air inside of the home was cooler - quieter, and the shadows from the sun setting crept across the wooden floors. With a grunt you slide the door closed and the muffling bass of the music was still heard through the thick walls. Smoke's home smelled like strong incense, lemon scented cleaner, sage, and fresh linen.

Annie had definitely been here prior.

Moving with purpose now, the sound of your sneakers squeaking against the wooden floor revibrated through you and your eyes scanned for the liquor cabinet - following the directions Smoke gave you. Turning the corner your irises were met with a large brown cabinet that was filled to the brim with all sorts of spirits and drinks. Making a brisk track towards it your hand ghosted over the handle, pulling open the glass door and reaching in to grab the bottle of tequila. Reposado - your favorite.

The bottle was full and the glass was slightly cold under your warm hands, with a sigh of victory you turned on your heel to make your way back outside. But then you paused. Standing in the small hallway of the home your eyes lingered on the golden sunrays that pooled onto the floor, the front door of the home was open, only the thin mesh of the screen door was holding back the bugs and summer air from entering. You knew Smoke wouldn't be the type to just let his front door wide open - even if him and half of the men in this party weren't lacking any 'peacekeepers', you're sure it would bother him if someone he didn't know would stumble into his home causing trouble.

Walking towards the open door in an attempt to close it shut, your legs turned into jelly and your heart raced as if you just got done running a marathon. Across the small stretch of dead grass on the front lawn and cracked pavement on the side walk, your irises lingered onto him.

Stack.

He sat lazily in the diver seat of the light brown lowrider, it's rims obnoxiously gaudy, they were gold and it seemed like wheels could barely fit the body of the car. The engine was off but he sat with the car door wide open, surrounded by some guys you met in passing through the neighborhood - his friends. Laughing too loud their words exchanged between each other were sharp and quick witted, yet long and casual like summer itself.

Stack was shining in gold like always, but now you've noticed he adorned more accessories than the last time you saw him. Multiple golden chains rested around his neck, gold glistening from the sunlight as he adjusted his watch that wrapped around his wrist, and the bright red color gem stones shined within the rings that he wore.

Smoke wore some jewelry too. Three chains - one of them was a Jesus piece - a watch and golden teeth just on the side of his mouth. His jewelry wasn't extravagant but anyone with a good eye could tell it was expensive. But Stack? He looked as if he was a pharaoh - the he himself was made out of gold.

A red tee balled up in Stack's lap, revealing his strong biceps and arms, the white tank top clung onto his skin and the soft cotton only accentuated his muscles even more. You remember those long winter nights of running your hands over his hard chest, feeling each and ever dip and valley of the muscles on his body. How your lips would kiss his abs, trailing down lower and lower...

He looked good.

All you could do was just watch and stare, the tequila bottle hanging loosely in your hands, dangerously close to dropping the glass bottle. Your reservations about seeing him melted away, you wanted to open the door and call out his name - to see if he still felt the same way about you. But then the memories of him ghosting you, ignoring any and all attempts of you reaching out to him; and the fact that he had another girl on the side made the butterflies in your stomach turn sickening.

With a bitter chuckle to yourself, you turned on your heel and made your way back towards the party.

This night will interesting to say the least.

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A few hours passed and the sky melted into a deep burnt orange color as the sun dipped behind the multiple rooftops, disappearing from the sky in due time. The orange and scorching glow washed over the multiple brown bodies that danced on the makeshift dancefloor, red plastic cups and sweat-slicked skin shined brightly within the summer afternoon.

The party didn't slow though - it only grew louder, brighter, more alive as more people showed up. You were feeling good - no, you were feeling great. The multiple shots of tequila you shared with Pearline pushed away all the negative emotions you felt hours prior, not to mention the sun that nipped at your skin made you a little bit sun-drunk. The burn of the liquor grounded you - and you were laughing again - joking with Pearline as you both swatting away dudes who couldn't get the hint that ya'll weren't interested.

You told Pearline that you saw Stack earlier and she asked if you wanted to leave - she reassured that she'd leave with you without complaints - but you told her it was fine, as long as Stack kept his distance you'd gladly stay.

"He's not gonna mess with you, sis. I got you" Pearline whispered in your ear with a supportive smile dancing on her lips. You nodded your head as you reached for the juice - using it as a chaser to kill the bite from the tequila shots. Both of you sat side by side on cheap plastic chairs, your knees touching against hers. Sammie who was once standing besides Pearline now stood in front of the patio, he was DJing now and your eyes would flick between Pearline and Sammie as she shouted cheers.

They were cute together, like lovesick school kids.

Sammie was in the zone, his head nodding with the thunderous beat and skillful fingers glide across the board, and the bass from the chopped and screwed beat rippled through the joyous crowd. Your smile widen now, showing of the golden grills that adorn your teeth, and your body relaxed into the rhythm and for a moment you almost forgot about Stack.

Almost.

Your eyes noticed the backdoor sliding open and there he was in all of his glory.

Stack.

He was wearing that same balled up red Nike shirt from earlier, shielding the white cotton tank, but you could see the soft fabric peaking through the collar and under the chains around his neck. He moved with purpose as he stepped down the concrete slab; making his way towards the party. That same easy going smile that you use to worship danced across his handsome face, gold teeth catching the light of the ember sunset. He dapped up Sammie, whispering something in the younger cousin's ear, which made him shake his head with a small laughter escaping his lips. And his focus was placed on the DJ board again.

Stack dapped up the people who were brave enough to say hello, he was like a magnet that pulled people's attention towards him without even trying. And even though the sun heat rays beat down on you - an oppressive chill ran cold through your body as he went deeper into the party - towards you.

The tequila and juice twisted within your stomach and your breathing became rapid - you weren't the type of get sick off of liquor - you can handle your drink. But seeing Stack, the heat, and the unfortunate decision of taking a few shots without eating first made you dizzy. Pearline noticed your once mellow mood turning sour and without a word she placed a calming touch on your thigh. Your eyes met with hers briefly and she whispered affirmations in your ear - telling you to take a deep breath and that you both could leave now.

You told her it was okay between long breathes, but your jaw was clenched tight and your hands gripped onto the plastic arm rest of the chair, your leg bouncing with rapid successions. Her hand didn't leave your skin as she handed you a cold bottle of water - and you chugged the bottle as if you've haven't drank anything in days.

Brown familiar irises flicked towards you and your eyes widen like saucers, as if you saw a ghost. Stack noticed you; of course he did. He could pick you out any crowd like it was nothing - like it was second nature to him. His smile curled up in a mischievous grin, but that smile wasn't full of an apology nor regret of hurting you so bad - but instead his golden grin was laced with nothing but cockiness that use to send butterflies to your core, making your heart race with desire and need.

It still did.

With a tilt of his head, Stack signaled you to come over to him, as if nothing problematic happened between the two of you - as if he never left you high and dry. You didn't move, you barely even flinched and you broke eye contact with him, your gaze lingering on the card game that was happening behind you. Slim was chattering away about how folks just don't know how to play the game. The biting warmth of the tequila was now replaced with a cold sting in your heart, you hope that Stack would cut his losses and leave you alone.

But that wasn't him, he never gave up.

Leaning off of the wooden fence he casual shuffled through the dancing crowd, people stepped out of his way without him even uttering a single word while his eyes were still trained on you. He reached you and Pearline within seconds.

She stood up from the chair, her hands resting on her hips as she spoke: "Uh, uh. Not tonight, boy."

But Stack was barely moved by her warning as his smirk only grew. Raising his hands up in a playful display of innocence his dark eyes flicked between you and Pearline who shielded you from his sultry gaze.

"Relax," Stack casually said as he placed his hands to sides, his head lulling back to see your expressions at hearing his voice. "I ain't here to start no drama. This a party, I just wanted to know if ya'll enjoyin' it, that's all."

But he was only met with silence from you and Pearline. You were still sitting in the plastic chair, your arms crossed over your chest as Stack's intense gaze never left your body. You wore a baby blue color tube top with dark acid washed shorts that stopped just above the curve of your ass, and your white Nike cortez with blue accents kicked at the small patch of dirt.

Your eyes refuse to even look at him.

"Damn, baby. You still mad at me?" Stack chuckled out with a knowing glint in his eyes - he was loving the tension between the two of you, even as toxic as it sounded - he liked when you were pissed off, it made him feel wanted and desired. It also didn't hurt that the make up sex would be more tender the angrier he made you.

You replied with a short irritated grunt and leered at him, giving off the vibe of 'don't test me', and your body stayed stock still in the chair. A small laugh escaped Stack's plump lips, he knew he was getting under your skin - and he soaked up each and every annoyed sigh you sent his way.

Stack's intense gaze pulled away from you and landed on Slim who slammed down a playing card on the plastic table. The older man was complaining about the new age music that was popular today.

"Slim, whatssup with you, unc?" Stack called out, which made Slim's face lit up. They both dapped each other up as the older man reclaimed his seat.

"Nothin' much, just tellin' these cats about some real music. None of that 'bitches and hoes' nonsense ya'll be listing to," Slim then took a sip from his flask, his face twisting at the bitter taste of liquor hitting his lips. "What happen to lovin' a woman, cherishin' her - takin' her out and bein' tender on her. Nowadays I wonder if ya'll actually love these queens."

"Look man; I ain't got love for these hoes, the only thing I love is pussy and money - ain't nobody tryna hear all that mushy shit tonight." Stack laughed, which earn a roar of chuckles from the men that were playing cards with Slim - some of them even dapped up Stack at his statement. Slim shook his head and waved his hand towards Stack, as if shooing him away.

But his harsh words stung at your heart and the burning sensations of tears nipped at your eyes, Pearline noticed this but before she could comfort you - you pushed yourself out of the chair, the legs of it scrapped against the concrete, silencing the laughter between the men. You raced towards the crowd as you made your way to Smoke's house. Multiple eyes followed you pushing through the dancefloor. Pearline glared at Stack and something within the man tinged with remorse.

He finally realized that you were hurt and that this wasn't a game anymore.

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The house was empty and the tequila in your veins burned with heartbreak and rage. Your legs rushed down the hallway and with hasty movements you flung open the bathroom door, slamming it loudly behind you. Cold tile met the burning skin of your back as your hands shielded your face, your breath hitching within your throat until it finally snapped like a rubber band.

Tears spilled freely from your eyes, slipping pass the cracks between your fingers as your body shook with each wail. With trembling lips your mind raced. You thought that you could handle it, that seeing him wouldn't wound you. But hearing Stack talk as if nothing mattered, as if he wasn't even affected by your presence made you feel hollow inside. He didn't just leave - he thrown you away. And that shit cuts deep, it felt like a knife hit your gut from his casual actions towards you.

A knock cut through your cries as your head throb with an ache, inhaling the sharp cold bathroom air your fingers wiped away the smeared makeup on your face due to the tears.

"Yea', you can come in." You whispered out, you assumed that Pearline was on the other side of the door - it made sense because only close friends of the twins were allowed to enter the vacant house. The sound of the door creaking open sent a wave of embarrassment through you.

But it wasn't Pearline your eyes were meet with.

It was Stack.

Stepping inside of the small bathroom he quietly closed the door behind him. His expression was different from the charming smile he wore prior to making you cry, all the jokes and cocky aura melted away like ice under the heat of the Mississippi sun. Guilt tugged Stack's face as he looked over your tear stained cheeks, your mascara running and your cherry red lipgloss slightly smeared from your hands pressing closely to your face.

"I-I didn't know you were cryin'." Stack muttered softly, his body leaning on the door and his brown eyes refusing to leave your shaking form. You didn't reply to him and you bit your lip, the gold teeth in your mouth slightly jabbing against the plump skin on your bottom lip. Glaring at Stack through glossy eyes you shook your head - you were growing tired of his antics.

"Hey, I didn't come in here to hurt you I just--"

"But you did hurt me, Stack! You did!" You shouted, cutting him off from his rambling. Your arms were crossed around yourself in an attempt to self soothe the anxiety that was threatening to spill over. Silence fell over the two of you and his eyes soften at your words.

"You left me like I wasn't shit. No goodbyes, not even a fuckin' breakup call! A-And then I find out you cheated on me with some bitch who lives in the suburbs," you shook your head as a pained smile danced across your lips, and with teary eyes you continued. "And now you show up and act like nothin' happened between us - you're such a joke, Stack."

Stack looked down as his hands rested in the pockets of his pants, guilt crashing into him like waves in a tsunami. He felt like shit hearing those words escape from your mouth - but those words were the truth - the bitter truth. He wasn't a good boyfriend to you; yes he took care of you, he praised you, and he adored you - but good to you? That wasn't the case. He treated you like a random fling even though the feelings he felt about you were so much more intense.

"I'm a coward," Stack mumbled. "I-I just didn't know how to be with you and still become the man I wanted to be."

"Oh, boo-hoo! You ain't even try!" You snapped as your voice cracked with each word you cried out, you hated how hurt you sounded and how raw you felt. Stack didn't flinch at your words and with a roll of his shoulders he spoke again, his southern accent curling around your ears like music.

"I was scared, I thought if I left without tellin', you'd realize that I'm no good - that you'll move on to someone better," he stepped closer towards you and the feeling of his shirt lightly grazing the exposed skin of your crossed arms. "But when I came back in town; I asked about you, and I was happy to know that you were still here - that maybe I could start over and fix this shit."

The air between you two were thicker now, more intense, and you couldn't take your eyes off of Stack.

You didn't want to.

"I never stopped thinkin' about you," he whispered low. "Even when I tried to, you were always on my mind when I left, I damn near felt lost without you."

"Then why you actin' like I never meant anything to you?"

Stack's lips twitched and his expression looked like he was scanning his scattered thoughts, as if trying to find the right words to say. His large and calloused hand reached out slowly, hovering over your arms, unsure if he could touch you without you swatting his hand away.

"Because if I admit to myself just how much you mean to me; then I woulda had to realize that I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me too..."

A tight lump formed in your throat at his words, you wanted to scream in his face, to push him out the bathroom and tell him to leave you alone - forever.

But you didn't.

You just stared at him as your chest heaved with shallow breaths. You hated him, you loved him, you missed him, and you never wanted to see him again. Your hands moved as if they had a mind of their own and you rested them on his broad shoulders, the feeling of the soft fabric under your fingers sent shockwaves and aching desire towards your core. Stack was the man that ruined you - but he was also the same one who built you up when no one would have.

Stack shuttered out a sigh of relief under your touch, as if feeling your hand press against his tense muscles was all he needed. His strong arms wrapped around your waist tightly, pulling your frame towards his, and his forehead rested on your bare shoulder. The party that was just outside of the door was muffled by the heavy breathing that escaped both of your lungs.

Leaving his head from the crook of your neck - both of your eyes clashed with each other - neither one of you breaking the intense gaze. And with a passing second your lips met his, the kiss was soft as if your bodies were trying to get reacquainted with each other, and his strong hands raced over your backside - clinging onto you as if you'd disappear from his touch.

The once soft kiss grew deeper - more hungry. And your fingers interlocked behind his head, the cold feeling of the multiple chains he wore grazed your knuckles. Tears still clung onto your long lashes as Stack cupped your face in his hand, both of your tongues fighting and dancing against each other. The taste of weed and alcohol filled your mouth as his bit your lip, begging you if he could go further pass just kissing.

You knew that you shouldn't do this; he hadn't earn to touch you like this again, he hadn't fix the broken heart that he shattered brutally, and he hadn't changed enough to re-enter your life as if he never left. But your heart, so tender and pure, still remembered those nights were he held you close. Making love to you and touching you places where only he knew that made you shiver in ecstasy.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you, Stack."

"I know, baby. But lemme show you how much I missed you."

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You and Stack slipped through the dark and quiet home like ghosts, his strong hands held your waist flush against his body as he guided you through the dark hallways of his older brother's house. The wooden floorboards creaked and groan beneath your feet with each step you both took. Stack's lips brushed the soft skin of your shoulder, placing tender kisses up your neck - just stopping below your ear.

You could feel his growing bulge pressing against your ass as his steady and firm hands grasp at your waist, a shiver of delight rushed through your body as memories of him fucking you made the ache between your thighs grow in anticipation. You grinded your self onto Stack which only made him quicken the pace through the house.

Your pulsed quicken under his open mouth and you could feel him smiling against your skin, cutting through the neat living room, you and Stack reached the guest bedroom. With careful hands he slowly turned the knob and his head lulling back to make sure no one saw the two of you sneaking inside of the bedroom. When the coast was clear - you both shuffled into the room. His arm still wrapped around your waist and quiet click was heard, he locked the door making sure no one would interrupt the two of you.

The once burnt orange of the evening sunset had faded away; now the blue shadows of nighttime crept into the dark room, the silver moonlight pooling across the empty bed and you turned on your heel, crashing your lips against his and his hands squeezing your ass. You gasp at the feeling of his ring slightly scraping against the skin of your ass, which made him deepen the kiss again. Your hands tightly gripped his shirt within your fist, pulling him closer until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Stack adjusted his body weight as he hovered over you, making sure that he wouldn't crush you underneath him, and the sound of his jewelry clinking against each other made your head spin. You bit his lip as he pulled away from the kiss, which earned a low hiss from him. You smiled lazily as his knowing hands traced over the hem of your shorts, his fingers tracing small shapes over the denim pockets until they landed on the button.

You began to kick your shoes off as Stack unbutton your shorts, your lip tugged between your teeth as you watched his movements. The sound of the zipper becoming undone made a wave of arousal clung at your already soaking pussy and your hips slightly bucked forward as Stack slowly pulled your shorts off, leaning on your forearms you raised your hips - helping him slip off the denim on your body.

All you wore now was your tube top, cotton panties with a small bow at the waistband, and white cotton socks. He reached for your shirt but you swatted his hands away from the thin fabric.

"If I take a piece of clothing off it's only fair that you do too." You whispered, showing off the golden grills that Stack gifted you years ago. Seeing your already beautiful smile made his heart flutter - but the sight of you with golden capped teeth made his already stiffening member grow even harder - the man was straining against his pants.

With nimble fingers Stack pulled off his shirt along with the tight beater that clung onto his hard muscles, he was shirtless now and his multiple chains glistened under the moonlight - the diamonds danced against his brown skin and it looked as if he himself was glowing. Laying on his back you straddled him and your hands steered his towards your top, his chestnut colored irises lit up when he felt your breast through your shirt.

"When you get your titties pierced?" He asked as he pinched the sensitive buds on your chest, making you grind your soaking core against his jeans, you could feel his dick twitch within his pants as you continue to rock your hips.

"A couple of weeks after you left; I wanted somethin' different."

"Fuck, baby. Lemme see 'em." Stack requested as both of your hands slipped off the blue top over your head. A small giggle escaped your lips at the sight of his face; his mouth went slack and his eyes were glued to your half nude body. His calloused hands raced across your skin and the sound of him kicking off his sneakers made you look back and with strong arms he pulled himself towards the headboard of the bed with you still sitting on his lap.

Once situated his hands cupped your breast and his thumbs slowly rolled over the pierced buds, slightly pressing down on the silver jewelry that adorn your chest, a shiver ran up your spine as you moaned out his name. You nipples were already sensitive, but after getting them pierced that sensitivity doubled, and you were practically shaking within Stack's arms.

With one hand he pinched your nipple, the sharp yet pleasurable sensation zapped through your body and straight to your aching pussy, his free hand held onto your hip as he lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your breast. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked your nipple, his teeth slightly pulling at the jewelry. Your nails dug into his strong shoulders as you threw your head back, encouraging words fell from your lips as you begged him to keep going and how good you were already feeling.

Stack hummed against your chest and your hand lovely stroked his hair carefully as to not mess up his waves. His tongue swirled your nipple as he helped you grind yourself on his hard dick, he still had his pants on as his hips bucked into you. With a wet pop, he release your breast from his mouth, biting his lip when your eyes connected again.

"You're too damn sexy, baby. I need to taste her. It's been too long and I know she misses me..." Stack whispered against your chest. He would always refer to your pussy as 'she' or 'her' when he got in this mood.

And you loved it.

"Feel how much she missed you, baby." You said into his open mouth as your hand guided his towards your wet sex, you still wore your panties but that didn't stop Stack from rubbing small circles on your clothed clit while his ring finger pressed against your entrance through the thin fabric. You humped against his hand which made a chuckle fall from his hips, his eyes trained on the movements of your hips against hand.

"Take these off, they gettin' in the way." He stated, which you gladly did, listening to his demand without a second thought. Leaning on his back against the soft blanket of the bed your breast pressed firmly onto his hard and well trained muscles on his chest. Your hips rising off of his body as you slide your panties off, kicking the soaked fabric off of your legs.

With a quick peck on the lips, Stack guided you to climb higher, your exposed pussy now in view as your hands rested on the headboard. Stack rested his head on the many pillows within the bed and his warm breath against your thigh made you tremble in anticipation. Lowering your hips with his hands, you were now sitting on his face, and his tongue flatten against your clit. Rolling your hips you began to ride his face, his tongue lazily yet full of expertise swiped across your aching entrance.

The tip of his tongue circled your clit and the rough feeling of his grills rubbing against the sensitive bud as he raced his tongue across your sex made you shiver. Stack's strong hands held onto your hips as he guided them against the movements of his tongue, with a vice grip you held onto the wooden headboard, and your eyes gazed down at the man. His brown eyes looked up at you, soaking up all of the curves on your body and the sweet taste of your pussy that danced on his tongue made him roll his eyes back in pleasure.

"Ugh, fuck!" You groaned out as your hips bucked against his face. Stack's lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud and the overbearing sensation made you lean forward; resting your cheek on the headboard. You chanted out Stack's name - his actual name - as if it was a holy hymn. Hearing his name roll sweetly off of your tongue made Stack's head spin, and with strong arms he held onto your waist, leaning himself over.

You let out a small yelp in surprise as your once steady grip on the headboard disappeared - now replaced with soft bedsheets. Your body weight rested on your shoulders and your legs were up in the air, Stack's arms were wrapped around your torso, pulling you close to his muscular chest. Working over your core Stack slowly slipped his middle finger inside you and the feeling of his rings grazing your clit earned a giggle of pleasure from you.

With precise movements Stack moved his hand, pressing his finger in and out of your pussy as his lips kissed your inner thigh, and the feeling of his mustache tickled at your skin. Your hands rested on the bedsheets, gripping the fabric within your fist. Stack added another finger in, the wet sounds of your pussy echoed through the room, and the slick sounds only made him speed up his movements.

Stack's fingers were now fully inside of you, his ring and middle finger filling you up as they skillfully worked over your core. High pitched moans fell from your lips as your feet fluttered from the pleasure, and the familiar intense feeling swarmed towards your core. Stack pulled his mouth away from your pussy as his fingers began fucking into you. He whispered promises to you that you know he'd never keep, but in this moment you believed every word he spoke - lapping up those lies as if they were dipped in honey.

Within an instant a wave of euphoria crashed into you and a loud cry of pleasure escaped your lungs. Your body trembled within his vice grip, trying it's best to regulate itself from experiencing coming so hard on his thick fingers.

"Mhm, just like that, baby." Stack praised with a cocky smile plastered on his handsome face, his fingers continued to thrust into your sensitive core, which earned a cry from overstimulation from you. Your hands clung onto his forearms in an attempt to slow the pace of his fingers, taking the hint he slowly pulled them out of you, and with a playful slap against your pussy - he released you from his tight grasp - your body laying limp on the bed as he stood up.

Catching your breath your eyes danced over Stack's toned body, his hands unbuckling his belt, slipping off his jeans and boxers in one swift movement freeing himself. Stack was big, and each time he would fuck you after a fight, you'd walk with a limp the next day. His thick and heavy member twitched with anticipation of fucking you again after all these years. Stack's mind would wonder towards your body when he would touch himself or decided to fuck some random woman he would entertain during those grueling years in Chicago.

But his hands weren't yours and those women weren't you.

Pumping himself with his hand Stack flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling you close to him so your lower half dangled off the edge of the bed. You looked over your shoulder as you watched Stack's face twist with pleasure as he slowly entered you.

"Fuck..." He groaned out as his hands held onto your hips. The feeling of your pussy squeezing around him almost made him come right then and there, he was convinced that you both were made for each other - you were the only woman who could have that kind of effect on his body by just entering. Pushing himself all the way in, he paused his hips, savoring the feeling of you, and also helping you adjust yourself to him. You were so tight and so wet, he could stay in your pussy for hours if you let him.

"C'mon, Elias..." You begged as you began rocking your hips, urging the man to fuck you, which he gladly did. High pitched grunts fell from your lips with each thrust he made and the arch in your back became to much to support by yourself, his strong arms pushed you flush against the bed while holding your waist to keep your back arched against his powerful thrust of his hips. Your legs turned into jelly as they shook underneath you and your feet barely touched the ground - you were practically standing on the tips of your toes.

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me!" You begged out between moans, Stack was rendered to only grunts and groans, but that didn't stop him from replying to you - in his own way of course. With a swift smack he landed a sharp slap against the plush skin of your ass, making you hiss out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He continued fucking into you, smacking your ass, and holding your waist in a vice grip.

You sure you'll have bruises later.

Leaning upwards you turned your head with your mouth open, signaling to him that you wanted a kiss. Stack's needy lips crashed into yours as your tongue danced across his, you could taste how sweet you truly were on his lips and mustache. Your golden grills bumped into his in the passionate make-out session and his heavy body was leaning flush against your sweaty back. His chest heaved shallow breaths as his hips sporadically bucked into you - feeling his hard cock inside of you twitch you knew he was close.

And so you were.

Pulling away from the sloppy kiss, the string of saliva that connected between both of your bottom lips snapped, and Stack rested his head onto your shoulder. The same familiar feeling of overbearing pleasure that needed to be alleviated came back within your abdomen, and with a loud cry you came on Stack's dick. Your eyes rolled back as your fist gripped the bedsheets below you.

"Damn, baby. W-Where you want it?"

"Inside me, baby."

And without missing a beat Stack came too, a guttural groan reverberated through his body and crashed into you. The feeling of his hard jewelry pressing into your back grounded you as you catch your breathe, and the warm feeling of his come filling you up made you smile in relief. You both paused your movements and Stack was still inside of you, rolling his shoulders he slowly pulled out of you - which made you groan from the sensation. You rested your sore body onto the bed and your cheek rested on a soft pillow. Stack smiled as he playfully patted your ass.

"Good shit, baby." He smiled which made you roll your eyes, turning your head to look away from him, trying your best to kind the lopsided smile that clung onto your lips.

"You're so annoy--" but before you could finish your statement a sharp knock was heard on the door, the handle violently jiggling between each knock.

"Stack? I know ya'll ain't in there doin' what I think ya'll doin'!" The voice of Smoke shouted behind the lock door. Stack spat out a 'shit' and quickly sat up from the bed, putting on his boxers as he wiped his face with the back of his hand that was covered in your juices. You sat up and your eyes widen in alarm as you reached for your clothes, but Stacked waved at you to stop your movements.

Unlocking the door Stack's body stood in front of the small crack, hiding your naked form. Hushed whispers were shared between the twins and you assumed that Stack was getting cursed out by his older brother and with a sharp: "Clean that fuckin' room before ya'll leave." Smoke slipped away from the door, which made Stack shout back in his usual playful tone.

"I was already gon' do that!" And he closed the door behind him, sucking his teeth as he threw himself onto the bed next to you, making you bounce a bit from his added weight on the mattress. Brown eyes stared into each other as silence now fell over the two of you. Leaning in to close the space between each other Stack ran his fingers through your hair, tucking the braid behind your ear, and the sound of his chains clinking against each other made you ease under his touch.

"I'm so tender on you, girl...I promise I'll do right by you; just give me another chance." Stack whispered, his eyes training on your features as you bit your lip. You were terrified of being hurt by him again, but you were also scared living the rest of your days without feeling his touch too. Reaching for his shoulder you pulled him closer towards you - your lips ghosting over his and you finally gave him your answer.

"Okay, but don't mess this up..."

[thatonegrimm]

The Manager’s Guide to Demon Boybands: A Witch’s Oath

Witchcraft in the Waiting Room

Prologue/Chapter 1/Chapter2

The conference room was every shade of uninspired: beige walls, buzzing lights, and the faint scent of instant ramen lingering like a ghost that never left. The table, scratched and water-stained, was just large enough to seat the five demons pretending to be a rookie idol group.

They were waiting. Restless.

Jinu sat at the head of the table, posture perfect, fake reading glasses perched on his nose. He tapped a pen against the table in a rhythm that matched neither time nor beat.

Abby lounged next to him, arms crossed to subtly flex against the tight sleeves of his shirt. He offered a friendly smile to no one in particular and watched the clock tick.

Mystery leaned back in his chair, the edge of a company memo torn between his teeth. His dark eyes flicked toward the lights overhead, as if trying to understand their existence by glaring at them.

Romance looked painfully at home, reclined like he was posing for a solo teaser poster. One leg crossed. Shirt half unbuttoned.

And Baby? Baby had three open energy drinks in front of him, his foot bouncing like a jackhammer.

They were told their new manager would arrive at 2 p.m.

It was 2:04.

"Maybe they forgot," Jinu muttered.

"Maybe we manage ourselves now," Romance said with a smirk. "Democratic. Sexy."

"Do we really need a manager?" Baby asked, already halfway through his second drink. "We’ve got charisma."

"We have no schedule, no staff, and no clue what we’re doing," Jinu shot back. "We absolutely need a manager."

"What if she’s old?" Baby asked. "Like ancient-old. Or smells like mothballs."

"What if she’s hot?" Romance countered.

"What if she eats us?" Mystery added quietly. It was hard to tell if he was joking.

The door opened.

They fell silent.

The new manager stepped into the room, closing the door behind her without a sound. She carried a clipboard, a black coffee, and an air of unimpressed efficiency.

Her eyes swept over them, measured but not wide. Not startled. She set her drink down calmly, adjusted her blazer, and spoke with the kind of confidence that made even demons listen.

"Good afternoon. I’m your new manager. You must be the Saja Boys."

A beat passed.

Five demons blinked at her.

Romance was the first to recover. He sat up, flashing a slow, practiced smile. "You're not what I expected."

She tilted her head. "Neither are you."

That earned a flicker of interest from Mystery.

Jinu cleared his throat, standing up just enough to bow politely. "Thank you for coming. We’re looking forward to working with you."

"I’m sure you are," she said. Flipping a page on her clipboard. "We’ll be discussing your upcoming showcase schedule shortly. But first, I’d like to set a few ground rules."

The boys sat straighter.

"Number one," she continued, her tone calm but crisp. "No skipping rehearsals. No exceptions. Number two, personal drama stays personal, I don’t want to anything about it on the news. Number three, if you’re going to experiment with... eccentric looks, make sure they’re not flammable."

A pause.

"And number four respect the staff. Even if you think you could do their job better." She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "That goes for me, too."

They were quiet again.

She hadn't said anything strange. Nothing out of place. But something in the way she watched them, steady, calm, and wholly unafraid rubbed against instinct.

Mystery tilted his head slightly. Baby stared at her like she was a math problem he couldn’t solve. Romance looked intrigued. Abby smiled, as always, but this time with more interest than politeness.

And Jinu… Jinu watched her like he was trying to find the string beneath her surface.

But you didn’t give them time to pull at it.

"Now," she said, gathering her things, "you have ten minutes to get dressed for practice. I’ll meet you in the studio."

She turned on her heel and left the room.

They didn’t follow right away.

Not because they were suspicious.

But because something about her energy, tightly coiled, quiet, patient made them feel like they had already been sized up, cataloged, and filed away.

And somehow, that was worse than being underestimated.

(Flashback: One Week Earlier – Your POV)

The city hummed with energy. Seoul always did. But lately, there was a flicker beneath the noise  like static in the ley lines. Something was coming.

You had felt it before you saw it.

The prophecy had been buried in her grimoire, untouched for a century:

"Five fires shall walk the city.Under glamour, under guise.If the last witch sees them first,They will live.If others find them—Burn."

You found them by accident. Or maybe fate.

A rehearsal studio. Music shaking the walls. Bodies moving with more power than choreography should allow.

When she saw them; five boys laughing, sweating, radiating energy like a warning, she knew. Not what they were exactly. But that they were hers to protect.

Not to control.

To watch. To guide.

To save, if it came to that.

(End of Flashback)

They followed her to the studio in silence.

Romance didn’t flirt. Not yet. Not until the elevator dinged and the spell of that first meeting cracked.

"She’s definitely not a rookie manager," he whispered.

"She didn’t flinch," Abby said thoughtfully.

"She didn’t ask questions," Jinu muttered.

"Maybe she’s just chill?" Baby offered.

Mystery didn’t speak.

But when she opened the studio door and waved them in like she had all the time in the world something in him settled.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

But for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t going to be boring either.

[selfishmachines1111]

Jealousy

┊ ➤ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲; 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐆

┊ ➤ 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭; 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂, 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖, 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄

┊ ➤ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; a speck of yandere(?)

┊ ➤ 𝐚/𝐧; this is my first time writing on this app, so please excuse if there’s any mistakes/bad writing!

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂; sonic easily gets jealous, without a doubt, though, he prefers to keep it hidden out of embarrassment(and because of his ego), completely unaware how obvious it is from the beginning. the subtle twitch of his eye, the speedy taps of his foot, the silence coming from him, anyone from a mile away could tell that something about the famous blue hedgehog was off. he tries his hardest not to worry about it in his head, watching you laugh and talk with your friend. what could possibly be that funny for you to be laughing that hard? he could make you laugh ten times harder! i mean, he’s the fastest, coolest, and hottest thing on the planet. you were lucky to have him, really! no one could top him, no one, so why would you ever want to leave him? you wouldn’t, you just couldn’t, right?

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖; shadow’s jealousy simply comes out as possessiveness and slight self doubt. he feels as if he’s lacking something whenever he sees you and (f/n) getting closer by the day. what makes it even worse? you keep spending all your time and attention on (f/n), something he should be getting! do you enjoy their company more than you enjoy his? are you having second thoughts on the relationship? do you not want him anymore? are you going to leave him? no, no, you tell him everyday that you’d never leave because you love him. you wouldn’t lie to him about something like that, would you? shadow can’t help the scowl that’s been present on his face for the past few days. making him look grumpier than usual. he won’t lose to this fool, he won’t let them have you.

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑; silver was practically beaming with excitement at the thought of seeing you. ecstatic even. he just couldn’t wait. with how busy he’s been lately, he hasn’t been able to spend any time with you, and sadly it was affecting him quite horribly mentally. but no worry! the date you two have planned today should make up for all the time he’s lost. walking into the cafe, the white hedgehog’s eyes immediately darted to you. the wide smile he had on his face previously getting wiped straight off. who was that? why are you talking to them? to avoid himself from overthinking more, he quickly made his way to you and this…stranger. noticing the boys narrowed eyes and frown, you assessed the situation to him. an old friend you say? do old friends usually stand that close to each other? the whole time he just couldn’t focus, fidgeting with his thumbs, shifting in his seat in uneasiness, his ears were completely down on his head. this was supposed to be his day with you. not this “old friend’s” that just appeared out of nowhere. he hated this. he could feel the tears well up in his eyes. it made him feel so stupid. getting jealous over something as small as this. is that why you chose (f/n) over him? were you tired of him and his constant need for reassurance? no…you weren’t that kind of person. he was just overthinking, stuck in his stupid thoughts like always. he knows you love him, you always tell him. he’ll just have to…endure it.

𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄; scourge would never admit the fact that he’s jealous. he hates confrontation, and quite frankly, it would take a blow to his ego. but of course, there would be hints of his jealousy. he’s not good with controlling his facial expressions, nor keeping his mouth shut. just by the way he kept insulting your friend right in front of their face as if it was nothing told you all you needed to know. you couldn’t help but feel awkward though with the whole situation, especially with the way scourge’s grip on your waist kept getting tighter every time your friends’ eyes fell on you. scourge was getting irritated. why couldn’t they just go away? they’ve already taken up enough of your attention, not like they deserve it anyway. your attention should be focused on him, and only him. so why the hell are you still talking to them when he’s right beside you. he just couldn’t wait to get this over with, so you can go back to focusing on him, like you always do.

┊𝐄𝐍𝐃

[branwinged]

i say this as a catelyn enjoyer, catelyn's hatred of jon is not particularly rational in the sense that it doesn't hinge on jon's own personal character. like some of it is borne out of wider prejudice regarding bastards (socially stigmatised as treacherous and grasping of their trueborn siblings' rights) of course, but the thing that hurts her most is what jon's presence in the household symbolically represents. and it's not the infidelity, it's the perpetual reminder of the disenfranchised position of women in their society and how little agency she truly has in her marriage and in the wider social sphere. the thing about catelyn's character is that she might be the conforming lady archetype, but she's also written to be very much aware of how disadvantaged women are in westeros.

"I might have been able to trade the Kingslayer for Father, but . . ." ". . . but not for the girls?" Her voice was icy quiet. "Girls are not important enough, are they?" Catelyn I, ACOK Is this my punishment for opposing him about Jon Snow? Or for being a woman, and worse, a mother? Catelyn V, ASOS “Father,” she said, “Father, I know what you did.” She was no longer an innocent bride with a head full of dreams. She was a widow, a traitor, a grieving mother, and wise, wise in the ways of the world. “You made him take her,” she whispered. “Lysa was the price Jon Arryn had to pay for the swords and spears of House Tully.” Catelyn I, ASOS Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. “As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them.” “Children are a battle of a different sort.” Catelyn started across the yard. “A battle without banners or warhorns, but no less fierce. Catelyn VI, ACOK

^ these are not the words of someone who's content with her lot in life or has made perfect peace with the rules of westeros's feudal patriarchy. brienne and catelyn are both acknowledging the thankless role women are made to play. "no longer an innocent bride" / "wise in the ways of the world" has a certain misery to it, considering the topic at hand is hoster's abominable treatment of lysa for transgressing social norms. even a sentiment such as - "Pity filled Catelyn's heart. Is there any creature on earth as unfortunate as an ugly woman?", is not coming from a place of scorn or thoughtlessness, but from knowing too well how cruelly their world treats women, how brienne's appearance would affect her marriage prospects.

“Our duty.” Catelyn’s face was drawn as she started across the yard. I have always done my duty, she thought. [...] I gave Brandon my favor to wear, and never comforted Petyr once after he was wounded, nor bid him farewell when Father sent him off. And when Brandon was murdered and Father told me I must wed his brother, I did so gladly, though I never saw Ned’s face until our wedding day. I gave my maidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty. Catelyn VI, ACOK

there's such clear resignation here, this is not how you talk if you're proud to have done your duty, if you feel you were actually rewarded for having done it. and duty here means meeting the unforgiving expectations of westeros's feudal patriarchy. if sansa's chapters are about growing out of that conditioning by realising that there is no reward to be found here, then catelyn's chapters are about showing the personal cost of having lived your entire life internalising those ideals. her house words being 'family, duty, honor' is a very deliberate character choice.

so it's not just that ned cheated on her, but that he unanimously made the decision to install jon at their home and catelyn's feelings were allowed no say in the matter, that it happened even before she was able to step foot in winterfell with robb is another blow. she had just been exchanged as goods from one (dead) brother to another and she was supposed to be okay with all this, like the most natural thing in the world because her house words were drilled into her since childhood. but we know she wasn't. she stamped down that resentment out of duty, because he's her lord husband and she was to obey him, but that pain and the alienation for having done her duty was going somewhere. openly resenting her husband or her father is not a socially allowed option, so all that resentment gets unfairly taken out on jon, someone she has authority over. and i think identifying the major cause of that hatred as her frustrations with westoros's patriarchal ideals is important because that means knowing the truth of jon's parentage wouldn't have changed anything. that ned kept such a thing from her and again, unanimously made the decision to commit treason without consulting catelyn, is once again simply telling her that she has no control in this marriage, that her judgement is both unasked for and not valued.

[starlightgum]

[Honest] Na Baek Jin x Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: You’ve been dating the head of the Union and childhood sweetheart, Na Baek Jin, for some time now. Your boyfriend was everything you imagined him to be and more: loving, kind, and caring.

Despite all his qualities, his packed schedule and work kept him busy and away from you. As you grow restless with the passing of the days without seeing him, you end up missing him terribly and finally decide to pay him a visit in his personal office.

Warnings: Explicit (+18)

Note: This is quite the first piece of writing I’ve ever uploaded, I loved Weak Hero Class 2 and the lack of Baek Jin works were honestly disheartening, so I had to step in. This is not proofread nor corrected, also, please keep in mind that English is not my first language. It’s entirely self-indulgent!

✦✧✦✧

You shift in your shoes before looking up to the metal door in front of you. The hallway where you were accompanied by one of the guys at the front gate from the bowling club was empty but well illuminated.

You knew the man inside the room was waiting for you, as he was informed beforehand of your presence. Regardless, you knocked out of respect, bumping your knuckles twice and waited.

Placing your hand on the knob, you didn’t twist it until you heard a clear and deep “enter” echo throughout the walls.

As you opened the door, you peered inside until your eyes found the other set of inquiring and sharp ones, steadily expecting you from his table.

Setting your foot inside, you notice his usually hard gaze visibly softening. You close the door behind you before dropping your school bag onto the sofa unceremoniously and slowly making your way to his desk.

Your follow the edge of the table with your finger as you cast a quick glance at his surroundings. On the desk there were neatly arranged pens, a box with organized files, and color-coded documents.

Near his hand were his water bottle, his two phones, his personal and work one, and in the corner tucked safely were his keys, hanging with a small charm with your initial matching with your own B hanging from your bag.

A gift you gave him the first week you began dating, which he gladly accepted with a small smile and a pat on your head, although curiously asking why.

You knew everything about him when you began dating—his status, his work, and especially his enemies, so you also knew you couldn’t endanger him or yourself by giving out your relationship so easily.

Normal things like uploading your couple pictures online to boast him to your friends, hanging around in the city at any time, or having your photo in his phone case—those small variables were risks

You knew, and you accepted everything that loving him entailed. That’s why you had to be subtle. Even if it felt a bit overwhelming at times.

Baek Jin on his side was setting the documents he was holding before on the surface and turning his chair towards you, all without ever stopping looking at you ever since you walked into the room.

As he came to face you, he slowly rolled his very tense shoulders until his back was fully resting against the chair. His stare slowly drinking you in, as he was recharging from not seeing you physically for days. A slow smile started to form on his face.

The white turtleneck was hugging his torso nicely, topped with a light black jacket and some wasted dark jeans. A comfortable attire you suppose he changed into after classes when he was working at his "business".

His hair was nicely brushed and neatly kept, just the way he liked. The white light coming from the lamp was showing a nice contrast to his profile, which made his features look even sharper if possible.

You wondered how he managed to look so well-kept and dressed with how little time he had and how little he rested.

“Have you eaten yet? It’s nearly dinner time, y'know,” you muttered, while letting yourself appreciate the fond expression on his face, only reserved for you.

Baek Jin was a very hardworking man. He was always busy; when he wasn’t studying, he was volunteering; when he wasn’t doing extracurricular activities, he was working in the union; and when he wasn’t being a multitask man, he was also your boyfriend. 

And the fact is, that you missed your boyfriend very much.

“I was waiting for you, actually” he mused when you got close enough that your knees touched. He was sitting with his legs in a relaxed, wide stance, a hand supporting his chin, as he analyzed every single detail, from your shoes to your hair—a routine you got used to.

True to his high capacities, he was also a thoroughly observant individual; he always took care of his belongings. He also could only trust a few people, which he could count in one hand. For these few particular beings, he would do anything to ensure their safety, be it fight for them or kill for them. Therefore, he needed to be strong, sharp, aware, and instinctual. Which didn’t always play in your favor.

“Is that so? If I hadn’t come, would you have starved?” You half-jokingly asked with a small grin as you raised your hand to poke his forehead to ease the tension in his brows as he took notice of your demeanor.

From the exterior, you looked relaxed, a playful facade playing on your face, but your eyes couldn’t lie to him, nor your body.

You were fidgeting in place, unconsciously switching from fixing on his lips up to his sharp eyes repeatedly ever since you came into his field of vision.

And you should know better by now. You could never fool a man like Baek Jin, not him.

He suddenly took your wrist and pulled you closer. To avoid falling, you reflexively put up a knee in between his much bigger legs to balance yourself and he held your hip with a strong grip with his other hand to keep you upright.

“I know for a fact my demanding girlfriend wouldn’t leave me hungry; isn’t that so, love?” He answered with a knowing smirk, muttering the last infatuating nickname as he inched even closer until your noses bumped.

This only deepened the already shade of red forming on your face, and you tried to hide yourself from his penetrating stare into his neck. As you breathed in you noticed the smell of his expensive cologne, a sweet scent mixed with an edge of soft lavender and coconut blend.

Knowing you like the back of his hand, he rotated the chair until you were trapped between his chest and the edge of the table, effectively throwing you out of balance in the small space.

You held on to his lean chest with both of your hands, wildly meeting up an already amused expression looking down at you.

In this position, you were forced to straddle him, his strong arms encapsulating you and not letting you escape. You resignedly sat on his toned thighs as the embarrassment wasn’t stilling inside your body yet. Your uniform skirt slightly riding up as the position didn’t make it any easier.

“You’re not being fair; I came to pick you up for dinner, and you’re trying to-” you tried to struggle to avoid looking into his perceptive eyes and the hot fanning breath near your lips.

“You think I don’t know you?” He muses while wetting his lips once, your focus entirely falling into that action. “You need to be more honest with your intentions; you know better than anyone I would never deny you” as he dipped down to your ear, he whispered “anything.”

His hands slip until they rest on your half-covered thighs, thumbs rubbing small, feathery circles.

You visibly shudder in his hold, which makes him let out a low laugh you could’ve easily missed if his mouth wasn’t right next to your ear. You reach back to look up to see the damned face of your unpredictable boyfriend and notice a single strand of hair adorning his face from the movement, making him look insufferably more handsome.

You sit like this for a few moments. Baek Jin alternating between circles and taps on your thighs as he waited for you to answer, looking like he had all the time in the world to spare.

You sigh and realise there was no escape; you would have to talk.

“It's just that I missed you, I-” you mutter looking down again, focusing on his bobbing Adam apple instead to gather some courage to speak up.

However, he was having none of that, as he takes your chin almost immediately and raises it until you have to slightly crane your neck to look into his dark eyes.

“I like to be looked in the eyes when I’m being spoken to,” he demands with a warning tone that makes your back stand upright. “I can barely hear you either, dear.” He points while fake-disapprovingly shaking his head.

As he waits for your answer, his lips never leave the slight smirk, so when your shy stare finally meets his waiting eyes, his side smile only deepens until one of his sharp canines shows.

“I want us to go have dinner at that restaurant from last week again-” you start slowly, Baek Jin slowly nods as he was making a mental note to check off later.

“I’ll make time for you, just say which day” he simply answers and gives an appreciative squeeze to your hip with his large hands that sends shivers from your back till your neck.

“Also I want you to-, I want you to kiss me,” he hums affirmatively, and starts by leaving an innocent little peck on your cheek before going for another one lower on your neck.

Your reactions weren’t going unnoticed by him; the way your breaths were coming out uneven, your skin progressively heating up, and your eyelids fighting to stay open every time his lips came in contact your skin.

Leaving a wet path behind, he trailed even lower, the next kiss pressing harder into your neck.

He knew that was your weak spot. He was clearly messing around with you, and you were letting him get away with it.

Suddenly you feel his teeth slightly grazing your skin, which catches you off guard and accidentally clench your thighs around his own.

As you instinctively grind closer to Baek Jin, you feel something hard pressing into you through the clothes. A tinge of pleasure runs across your center.

At this, he suddenly halts his ministrations to hold you against him on the same spot, not letting you bulge an inch.

“And then what, beautiful?” He asks in a low, deep teasing tone only meant for you to hear, as if it were a secret. Slightly panting, he rises up his head to his height. From your position, you notice his eyes momentarily unfocused, desire pooling his dilated pupils.

His hands follow his gaze, thumb caressing your pouting bottom lip, slowly tracing the line from one corner to the other. He adjusts himself in the seat making you brush yourself against him again. You barely manage to muffle a sound coming from your throat at the feeling.

As the seconds go by, he grows more and more restless.

Surely, patience was one of Baek Jin’s best qualities. But even the strongest of the Union couldn’t hold himself back when his very own fantasy came true was sitting so prettily on his lap, in his own office.

You try to blink away the coming tears of frustration adorning your wet eyelashes. Not being able to wait any second longer, you let the distress from all these past days come forward on your next words.

“A-And I want you to fuck me.” You whimper the last words as you fist the jacket of the man beneath you. You needed him, badly. “P-Please Baek Jin”.

His eyelids drop lower as a satisfied lazy grin spreads on his face. He stands up while easily lifting you up from your upper thighs, letting your legs hang on from his hips. You hold onto his broad shoulders tightly to bring yourself impossibly closer to him.

Clearing the desk with one hand, he slips your back on the surface while speaking a promise onto your lips. “As you wish, my love.”

✦✧✦✧

[genshinluvr]

Amphoreus Amnesia

Pairings: Various HSR Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You suddenly vanish off the face of the universe with no trace for months. One day, the Astral Express receives a message from someone from another world, Amphoreus.

Note: I'm, like, still behind on HSR quests, so the newly added characters (Jiaoqiu, Moze, Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa) will be out of character since I didn't meet some of them, nor have I interacted with them as much as I have with others. I'm going to be posting new fanfics based on the options from the poll from a while ago. The next fanfic that will be posted/updated is the LADS fanfic because it came in third place. My Discord server has been officially open for a little over a week now, but the link has expired. New Discord server links will be linked at the end of the fic. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Newly added characters will be ooc due to being behind on HSR quests, slight yandere Sunday?

Word Count: 8.3k

It’s been seven months. Seven months since you went missing, and no one has heard a single thing from you. No one— from the Herta Space Station to Jarilo-VI to the Xianzhou Luofu to Penacony— has given the Astral Express crew any updates on your whereabouts. There aren’t any sightings of you despite there being a search party working tirelessly to find you. Heck, even the Aeon of Destruction can’t get a hold of you, and it’s driving everyone crazy. The Astral Express remains in Penacony, assuming you’re probably lost in the Dreamscape, like how you were when you first set foot on the Planet of Festivities. But much to everyone’s dismay, there have been no sightings whatsoever.

The Astral Express crew stands before Sunday, Aventurine, Robin, Boothill, and Gallagher, all waiting to hear the possible updates on your whereabouts.

Sunday shakes his head, sighing. “I’m sorry, but there have not been any sightings of [Y/N], Mr. Yang. We have done everything we can to search for them, but it’s like they have disappeared without a trace.”

“Please tell me this isn’t like the similar incident a while back when it was [Y/N]’s first time visiting Penacony,” Aventurine sighs, rubbing his temples. “You all need to put them on a leash if that’s the case.”

Dan Heng, Caelus, and March glare at Aventurine in response to his comment. If only that were the case, because when that happened a few months prior, you were found hours later, safe and sound. But it’s been seven months. Seven. Months. 

Gallagher glares at Aventurine and elbows him in the ribs, causing the blond man to grunt. “I’m sorry, Aventurine, but are you new here? The Astral Express crew has requested us to search for [Y/N] for seven months. [Y/N]’s been missing way longer compared to the first incident.”

Before Aventurine can retort, Dr. Ratio approaches from behind and smacks him upside the head. Aventurine’s head snaps in Dr. Ratio’s direction, rubbing the back of his head while scowling at him. Dan Heng sighs, shaking his head. 

Dr. Ratio crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you tried contacting the Aeon of Destruction about [Y/N]’s whereabouts? They seem rather…” Dr. Ratio trails off, looking around Penacony as if trying to find the right word to describe your and Nanook’s relationship, “close with one another.”

Welt sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose before explaining to Dr. Ratio that your and Nanook’s bond is special. Not special in the sense that an Aeon is attached to a human from another dimension, but special to the point where you two can communicate and meet each other through dreams. Caelus furrows his eyebrows. He could’ve sworn that the relationship between you and Nanook had been explained plenty of times before. 

“The Aeon of Destruction somehow channels his power to bring someone from another fucking dimension to our world is pretty damn impressive,” Boothill mutters, stroking his chin. “Never knew that was possible, but if you really want something or someone, anything is possible.”

Everyone makes their way back to The Reverie, now standing in the lobby of the hotel. As the Astral Express crew is getting ready to return to the Astral Express, a large group of familiar faces approaches.

“General Jing Yuan, what brings you here?” Dan Heng asks, trading looks with Caelus.

Jing Yuan smiles at Dan Heng and props his hands on his hips. The General subconsciously scans the crowd, searching for a familiar face. The very same face that suddenly disappeared off the face of the universe without a trace. Much to his dismay, the General does not see the face he yearns to see again after so long. After not receiving a response from the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng clears his throat. 

Jing Yuan blinks and rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I, and the others, are here to inform you all that we have yet to find [Y/N],” Jing Yuan replies, his smile slipping off. 

“And judging by the look on your faces, none of you has been successful with the search either?” Blade asks, crossing his arms over his chest while scanning the hotel lobby. 

Welt shakes his head. With the large crowd gathering where the Astral Express crew is standing, guests at The Reverie Hotel can’t help but stare with curiosity. A large crowd of people from outside the Planet of Festivities, with members of The Family among the crowd, is bound to draw mass attention. 

“Let’s talk on the Astral Express. With matters like this, we don’t want to draw unwanted attention.” Welt says, motioning everyone to follow.

On the Astral Express, everyone gathers in the Parlor Car, staring at the large hologram of the maps the Astral Express crew has visited. The same place you could have disappeared to, but failed to be traced in any of the locations.

“Have any of you tried reaching out to Nanook by chance? The Aeon of Destruction is linked to [Y/N],” Luocha mutters, never taking his eyes off the hologram map for a second.

Caelus rolls his eyes. “The only person who can get in touch with Nanook is [Y/N]. Aside from that, none of us,” Caelus gestures to him and the other Astral Express members, “has a way to reach out to the Aeon.”

Moze rolls his eyes and pinches his glabella, annoyed with the outcome of the situation. “Great, so we’re at another dead end.”

The Shadow Guard throws himself on the nearest chair and buries his face into the palm of his hands. While Moze knew you for a short period of time, your presence grew on him, and Moze grew quite fond of you (even though he doesn’t want to admit it). For you to suddenly disappear without a trace for seven, almost eight, months feels suspicious. You didn’t even bring your phone with you, which is strange because Moze could’ve sworn that your screen time is past twelve hours a day. 

“I will do everything in my power to find [Y/N] and bring them back safe,” Argenti says, placing his hand over his heart. 

Sampo huffs, plopping down on the couch. “Not if I find my gumdrop first! I’m sure [Y/N] would rather have me save them than someone in a full suit of armor. What are you? Their knight in shining armor?” Sampo mutters, looking off to the side while pouting.

Argenti raises his eyebrows at Sampo’s comment, the corner of his lips curving up with amusement. Clearly, anyone with eyes can see that Argenti is, in fact, your knight in shining armor. There’s no denying it because he is the only one in full armor while others wear some armor in other parts of their bodies as an accessory. 

“We can’t just sit here and do nothing. If we give up now, who knows what could happen to [Y/N] the longer we stall,” Gepard says, hands balled into tight fists. “I’m sure they’re somewhere out there. We can’t give up.”

Luka holds his hands up, raising his eyebrows at Gepard’s outburst. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who’s saying that we’re giving up? I've got all the time in the world to look for [Y/N]. In fact, the longer this drags out, the more motivated I feel to keep on pushing,” Luka says, jumping in one spot while stretching his shoulders. 

While the men converse with each other and plan out the next step, Jiaoqiu's ears perk up when hearing something strange. The muttering around him makes it nearly impossible for Jiaoqiu to pinpoint where this strange noise is coming from. The foxian healer closes his eyes and listens closely, drowning out the chatter around him. There’s a beeping sound coming from somewhere in the Parlor Car.

“Does anyone else hear that beeping noise, or am I going crazy?” Jiaoqiu speaks up, grabbing the other’s attention.

Everyone in the Parlor Car goes silent, trying to hear what Jiaoqiu is hearing. The longer everyone sits in silence, the louder the beeping becomes for Jiaoqiu. The foxian healer gets up from his seat and slowly walks to where the beeping is coming from, his ears perked up, twitching each time the beeping goes off. 

“You have an interstellar message. Please check it promptly,” says the system.

March peeks from Welt’s shoulders, confused. “Interstellar message? Who could it be from?” March mutters, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches the older man tap on the screen. 

Almost immediately, a hologram of the sender of the interstellar message materializes before everyone. The man, muscular with shoulder-length ombre blond and red hair, crosses his arms over his chest, staring—no, glaring—at everyone in the Astral Express. The man doesn’t say anything, but continues to glare at whoever his eyes land on.

The blond man clears his throat. “Is this the Astral Express?” He asks, his deep voice filling the silence of the Astral Express.

Welt nods. “Yes, this is the Astral Express. May I ask who I am speaking to?” Welt asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am the Crown Prince of Kremnos, Mydeimos, but you can all call me Mydei. Several months ago, the world of Amphoreus received a distress signal about a missing person who goes by the name of [Y/N].” Mydei says, letting his arms fall to his side.

After hearing the mention of your name, everyone in the room immediately straightens up and walks over to where the hologram of Mydei stands. From the other side of the hologram stands the glorious Crown Prince of Kremnos, who tries to keep his composure while ignoring the bickering in the background. Mydei’s yellow eyes scan every person who shows up on the hologram.

“We should demand a reward for finding this missing person!” The white-haired man loudly whispers from behind Mydei.

The greenish-gray-haired man scoffs in response. “Are you an idiot? Who would demand such a thing after discovering—”

Mydei’s head snaps in the duo’s direction, shutting them up immediately. Mydei scowls at them, as if telling them to shut the hell up and let him speak to the people on the hologram. Mydei takes a deep breath and turns back to the Astral Express crew (and others), fixing his composure.

“Helloooo? What were you going to say about [Y/N] and the distress signal?” Sampo asks, waving his hands to grab the Crown Prince’s attention.

Gepard sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “Have you ever thought of keeping your mouth shut? Let Mr. Yang speak to the Crown Prince of Kremnos.” Gepard mutters, glaring at Sampo from behind his hands.

Sampo laughs and gives Gepard and the other men on the Astral Express an apologetic smile before gesturing for Welt to take over. Welt sighs, turns back to the hologram of Mydei, and nods to the Crown Prince to continue where he left off. Mydei goes into detail about finding you in Amphoreus, heavily injured and unconscious, barely hanging onto life. 

Caelus’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. “What do you mean [Y/N] is in Amphoreus!? How did they end up over there?! We have yet to set foot in your world!” Caelus exclaims, running his hands through his hair. 

The white-haired man pops up on the hologram beside Mydei. “That’s a mystery for us, too! Imagine how confused we were when we saw an outsider, who fit the missing person’s description, in our world.”

An arm appears out of nowhere on the hologram, grabbing the white-haired man by the ears. “Dammit, Phainon. Don’t butt into conversations that has nothing to do with you,” a mysterious voice hisses, yanking Phainon out of view.

“But Anaxa!” Phainon whines, swatting at the arm while being dragged out of view.

Mydei rubs his temples, sighing and shaking his head. The Crown Prince apologizes to Welt before proceeding where he had left off before being interrupted by Phainon and Anaxa. 

“If you wish to see [Y/N], you are welcome to do so. That is why I reached out to the Astral Express, because I know you all have tirelessly searched the cosmos for them. However, there is an issue…” Mydei trails off.

Dan Heng stares at Mydei, fists clenched at his side. “What is the issue aside from [Y/N] being heavily injured?”

Phainon peeks from Mydei’s shoulders. “You’ll have to see for yourselves. It’s best to be here in person when given more information on their condition,” Phainon says before disappearing.

And with that, the communication between the Crown Prince and the Astral Express ends there. Gallagher sighs, crossing his arms. “The Aeon of Destruction is not going to like this if we ever get in touch,” Gallagher mutters, shaking his head.

Gallagher is, in fact, correct. The moment you open your eyes and find yourself in a strange place, floating before a giant being—a handsome giant being— you nearly have a panic attack. Sure, the giant white-haired being is handsome and shirtless, but seeing someone that huge is certainly a sight to behold. 

The giant person suddenly disappears and is now standing before you as a regular-sized human. What is a regular-sized? He’s over 193 cm, practically towering over you like a skyscraper. His tough demeanor crumbles as he pulls you into his arms, letting out shaky breaths.

“You’re okay, little one. I’m so glad to see that you’re okay,” the white-haired man whispers into your hair, caressing your head.

You subconsciously wrap your arms around his waist, melting into his warm embrace. You can’t find the words to describe how you feel. The stars around you glimmer, casting a gentle glow. Everything feels so familiar, and yet, you don’t remember this person standing before you. You pull away from the hug, staring up at him, wordlessly.

The man cups your face in his large hands, looking deep into your eyes. “Little one, is there something wrong? Say something,” he pleads, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You continue to stare at the man, breathless. He looks and feels so familiar, and yet you don’t remember his name or the memories you two once shared before regaining your consciousness.

“Who are you?” You whisper.

Hearing your question causes the world around you and this mysterious man to shake and crumble. You look around, terrified of what’s happening. The man in front of you quickly regains his composure, trying to remain cool, calm, and collected for you. 

The man reaches for your hand and gently squeezes it. He then pulls your hand towards his face and presses a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “My name is Nanook. I am the Aeon of Destruction,” he says, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Nanook…” you whisper, staring at him with awe.

The universe around you starts to fade along with Nanook. You look at Nanook, panicked. Nanook sighs, shaking his head. As the world around you fades, you start to hear voices around you. It’s like you’re underwater; the voices are muffled but gradually becoming louder as you regain consciousness. 

“Dear Aeons! They look horrendous!” Someone gasps in horror, startling you awake.

The room goes silent.

“Keep your voices down, dammit! Look what you did! You scared them before they could even fully regain their consciousness!” Another person, with a heavy southern accent, hisses with a smack accompanying the voice. 

You crack your eyes open, flinching and squinting when the ceiling lights blind you. You cover your eyes for a moment, trying to adjust to the brightness. Once you have adjusted to the brightness of the room you’re in, you can’t help but be startled when you’re met with multiple eyes on you, staring at you with anticipation. 

The redhead in full armor sighs, placing his hand over his chest. “Oh, thank Idrila, you’re okay,” the man says, beginning to walk towards you, only for a blond man (also in armor) to stop him by grabbing his shoulder.

“Mx. [Y/N], how are you feeling?” The man with wings for ears—wait, he does have human ears too… are the wings real?— asks, approaching your bed with a man with long blond hair.

You stare at each man in the room, not saying a word. They all trade looks, worried that the injuries you have sustained may have a greater impact than anticipated. The man with long blond hair stands over you, reassuring you that he’s going to check up on you after getting a nod of approval from the Crown Prince.

“Everything seems fine from what I’m seeing,” the blond man murmurs.

A tall man with long white hair turns to the Crown Prince, crossing his arms over his chest. “This Phainon person mentioned wanting to talk about [Y/N]’s condition in person. What is it that you want to discuss with us, Mydei?”

The Crown Prince opens his mouth to respond, only to close it before he could get a single word out. Mydei turns to you, giving you a fake smile. “We will be right back,” he says, giving the guests a look and gesturing for them to leave the room.

Confused, everyone slowly piles out of the room, muttering under their breath. The man with long blond hair soon follows the others once the majority of them have left the room. You watch the door close, now alone with your own thoughts. These men seem to know you, but you don’t know them. Or do you? You don’t have any recollection of any of these men, but this strange feeling in your chest feels unbearable. Out of all the injuries you have sustained, the one that hurts the most is your head. You subconsciously reach the back of your head, feeling the bandages wrapped around your head. The gauze feels thick and hard under your touch. You inspect your body, staring at every bandage, gauze, and cast hugging your body.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY LOST THEIR MEMORY?!” Someone bellow from the other side of the door.

You shrink back into the bed, only to hit the back of your head against the bed frame. You groan, clutching your head, closing your eyes. Gentle yet calloused hands cover your hand, making you peek from one eye while continuing to clutch your head.

“Don’t hurt yourself, now, little one,” Nanook murmurs, kneeling beside the bed.

You stare at Nanook with wide eyes, questioning how he managed to enter your room without being seen by the others outside the door. Before you can say anything, the door opens and the men file into the room, only to stop when they see Nanook beside you.

The foxian man crosses his arms over his chest, sighing. “See, I told you all that I wasn’t hallucinating.”

The blond-haired man with a fedora chuckles, propping his hands on his hips. “It’s good to see you again, Aeon of Destruction. Who knew that Mx. [Y/N] can summon you just like that?” the blond man chuckles.

Nanook glares at the group of men in front of you and proceeds to tuck your hair behind your ear, eyeing every part of you with concern. 

You clear your throat, eyes drifting over to the Crown Prince. “How long have I been out for?” You ask, your voice hoarse. 

“You’ve been unconscious for four months. You’re very fortunate that you didn’t succumb to your injuries,” Mydei says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The gray-haired man narrows his eyes at the Crown Prince. “You’re telling me that [Y/N] has been in Amphoreus for four out of the seven months they were declared missing? And you didn’t inform us about this?” 

“Moze, I understand you’re frustrated with the situation, but it’s best to calm down—”

The man with long, dark hair shakes his head. “I agree with Moze, Dr. Ratio. The search for [Y/N] could’ve been cut short if we were informed of [Y/N]’s conditions and whereabouts three months ago.”

You press your lips into a thin line, unsure what to say, nor do you want to interfere with whatever is happening. From what you have gathered, you went missing for seven months and were in Amphoreus the entire time. You’re injured, but got lucky and didn’t die. Either you were truly lucky, or it’s a cruel fate because now you have to live to recover from these injuries, not only that, but you lost your memory.

A month later, you’re sitting in the hospital garden, still in Amphoreus. Of course, you’re not alone— these men refuse to let you be alone in another world. Within a month, you’re reintroduced to the eighteen (twenty-one if you count Anaxa, Phainon, and Mydei) men you once knew before your amnesia. They’re nothing but sweet and will spoil you with every chance they get.

Sometimes, when you’re in need of a girl friend to chat with, March and Himeko (who also had to reintroduce themselves to you) would spend time with you. They would tell you everything you have forgotten about, and what has happened within the seven months you have vanished off the face of the universe. You can’t help but feel loved after hearing how much people cared about you despite not being your family. Speaking of your family… what happened to them? You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone waves their hand in front of your face, trying to grab your attention after you have zoned out.

“I brought you lunch! I heard it’s a local specialty on Amphoreus,” Caelus says, plopping down in front of you and placing the plate on your lap. 

You smile at Caelus. “Thank you for bringing me lunch, Caelus. I feel bad for having you guys run around to bring me things while I’m sitting,” you mutter, grabbing the silver cutlery. 

Caelus smiles and kisses the side of your head without thinking, causing you to freeze momentarily before quickly regaining your composure. You peek from the corner of your eyes to see Caelus’s reaction, but he continues to dig into his food and eat like nothing happened. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, [Y/N]? You haven’t been acting like yourself,” Dan Heng says, entering the garden with his lunch in his hands. “We’re all worried about you.”

You smile at Dan Heng and nod wordlessly. Caelus’s actions threw you off, but it’s not like you didn’t like it. It felt familiar for some reason, as if he had done this plenty of times before you went missing and lost your memory. What are you to these men?

You proceed to eat the lunch Caelus brought to you, lost in your thoughts. While eating and zoning out, someone reaches towards you and wipes the corner of your lips, pulling you out of your head. You lock eyes with Sampo, who grins at you as a result. Your face heats up, and you quickly look away, unsure of how to process what has happened. Sampo snickers at your reaction before plopping down beside you, sandwiching you between him and Caelus.

“What’s keeping that pretty head of yours occupied, gumdrop?” Sampo asks, nudging your side before scarfing down his lunch.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I’m just zoning out as per usual. You know how I am,” you joke. “I think. I don’t even know who I am or what I’m like before this freak accident.” You mutter, shoulders slumping after realization hits you.

The men trade looks, their hearts sinking into the pits of their stomachs. It’s been a month since they have reunited with you in Amphoreus since your sudden disappearance, only to find out that you sustained life-threatening injuries along with having amnesia. It’s a long road to recovery, but thanks to Amphoreus’s technology, Luocha and Jiaoqiu’s medical knowledge and skills, your healing journey was shortened. 

Although most of your injuries have healed, your memories have yet to be restored. So, every man has decided to make it their mission to get you to fall in love with them again! While you and they aren’t exclusively dating—well, with Nanook, that’s a different story— they want to get you to fall in love with them again, little by little.

It started just fine at the beginning of the new month, but then they realized that it was taking way too long, and some people (Sampo, Caelus, Argenti, etc.) aren’t nearly as patient as the others (Mr Yang, Jing Yuan, Sunday, etc.). While that is happening, Nanook’s been feeding you small information about how you end up in another dimension. Though Nanook didn’t outright say that he brought you to his dimension because he took a liking to you, he didn’t want to scare you off and potentially break the bond you two have with each other, for who knows how long you’ve been in their dimension.

As for the men who occupy the world you and the others are currently in, they have been silently watching you from a distance. However, Phainon has been more than eager to befriend and get to know you more. He’s the sweetest and most welcoming person on Amphoreus. Despite not knowing each other much, he tries to make you feel comfortable and would banter with you at every chance he gets. Mydei, on the other hand, has been trying to keep it professional, but would sometimes let his demeanor slip and spend time with you after he forces the other men to leave your temporary room. Mydei has been telling you tales of his battles and exploration, and is incredibly proud of his achievements. 

As for Anaxa… he’s a little bit aloof in your opinion, mainly because you don’t know him well enough. On days when you don’t have visitors (incredibly rare, but there are days when the men aren’t allowed to spend time with you for over two hours), Anaxa would pop by your room and teach you about Amphoreus, going on tangents about philosophy and other things your mind cannot comprehend at the moment (because he pops by at the ass crack of dawn while you’re still sleeping, peering over you and watching you sleep until you wake up because you can feel his eyes burning holes into your head).

“What the— Anaxa!? What are you doing here? The sun’s not even up yet!” You whisper loudly, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles.

Anaxa holds up a book thick enough to knock someone out with one hit. “Would you like to hear more reasons why I challenge the prophecy?” Anaxa asks, peeking from the top of the book.

You and Anaxa stare at each other in the darkness, not saying a word. Sometimes you forget that whenever Anaxa goes on one of his tangents, you tend to fall asleep, but Anaxa doesn’t mind one bit because he gets to talk to someone. Even if they’re knocked out asleep, then again, he will catch you up to speed on what you missed out on after falling asleep. It’s kind of cute. You let out a long sigh, turning on your side and hugging the extra pillow to your chest. 

“What the hell, sure.” You shrug. 

Anaxa’s eyes light up as he pulls up a seat beside your bed before starting.

Gepard kneels before you, grabbing your unoccupied hand. “How’s your head feeling?” He asks softly, massaging your knuckles while staring at you intently.

You smile at Gepard, squeezing his hand in return. “My head’s feeling okay, I guess. It’s extremely frustrating that I lost my memories and can’t do anything about it,” you reply, smiling at Gepard ruefully. 

Boothill struts up to you and Gepard, sitting on the chair's armrest. “I think if we hit you on the back of your head just as hard as you hit your head eight months ago, maybe you can get your memories back!” Boothill smiles, crossing his arms over his chest, looking smug.

You stare at Boothill, mouth agape. Gallagher, Sunday, Mr. Yang, Blade, Mydei, Anaxa, Dan Heng, Luocha, and Jiaoqiu all sigh simultaneously, shaking their heads in disapproval. You rub the back of your head, unsure how to respond to Boothill’s suggestion. 

Luocha rubs the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “Boothill, that’s not how it works. Giving [Y/N] another head injury will not recover all of their memories,” Luocha mutters, giving the Galaxy Ranger the side eye.

Before you can say something, someone places their hands on your shoulders, startling you. You look up to see Nanook standing behind you, glaring at Boothill. Ah, he probably heard Boothill’s suggestion. Nanook grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulders. The men around you grumble with protests, crossing their arms over their chest while glaring at the Aeon of Destruction.

“Wait, Nanook, I’m still eating.” You protest, peeking from Nanook’s shoulders. “Put me down, I want to finish my lunch.” You pat the Aeon’s shoulders, trying to get the man to put you down. 

Nanook wordlessly hands you a cup of Immortal’s Delight. You stop what you’re doing and stare at the sweet drink in his hands before grabbing it. You take a sip and hum happily, the sweetness flooding your taste buds.

Luka looks away, his face almost as red as Argenti’s hair. “Hey, I don’t know if you’re aware of the length of the hospital gown, but…” he trails off, the redness of his face traveling up to the tip of his ears. 

Your eyes widen and your hand shoots up to cover your exposed ass. It’s not like you’re completely naked underneath the hospital gown, but you didn’t want anyone to see your underwear! You unintentionally flashed everyone in the garden, good heavens. Nanook immediately places both hands on your butt, covering your underwear from everyone’s sight while glaring at every person. 

Gallagher huffs out a laugh, leans back in his seat, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at us like it’s our fault that we see [Y/N]’s underwear? You’re the one who lifted and tossed them over your shoulders,” Gallagher shakes his head.

Nanook rolls his eyes and turns around, walking towards the building with you draping over his shoulders, slurping down the Immortal’s Delight without a care in the world. Once you and Nanook are out of earshot, Argenti stands up and starts trailing after the two of you. 

Aventurine raises his eyebrows. “Uh, where are you going, Argenti?” Aventurine calls out to the redhead.

Argenti turns around, crossing his arms over his chest. “Following after [Y/N] and Nanook, what does it look like? I refuse to let them have some alone time while we sit to the side,” Argenti replies.

Argenti turns around before continuing to follow after you and the Aeon, making sure not to get too close or else he’ll face Nanook’s wrath for trying to cockblock. After hearing Argenti’s response, the others immediately leave their spots (with their food and drinks) and follow Argenti.

Another month goes by, and there’s finally some progress with your memories gradually recovering. As days go by, bits and pieces of your memories will hit you randomly throughout the day. Sometimes these memories from however long ago would hit you while you’re sleeping, making you assume it was just a dream, when, in fact, it was not a dream at all.

“I had a dream where I got lost in Penacony and had to be saved by Gallagher,” you passively mentioned at breakfast one day.

Mr. Yang clears his throat. “That wasn’t a dream, sweetheart. It happened nine months ago,” Mr. Yang replies, no longer eating his breakfast. 

You stare at the older man, mouth agape. Wait, huh?! The people sitting around you all nod in response to your questioning look. 

You shake your head and wave your hand in front of you, still trying to process the information that your dream was actually reality, but it happened before your disappearance. “Wait, so that wasn’t a weird nightmare?” You squeak, staring at Mr. Yang and the others in disbelief.

Himeko and March give you a sympathetic look, both patting and rubbing your shoulder with comfort. You lean back in your seat, letting the information sink in. March reaches for your Immortal’s Delight, handing it to you, hoping it’ll snap you out of your inner turmoil. You wordlessly take the sweet drink from March’s hand, taking a sip of the drink while you continue to stare at the table in front of you. The longer you stare at the table and mindlessly sip the Immortal’s Delight, you can’t help but find yourself trying really hard to recall things that happened before you magically appeared at Amphoreus. 

“What about the time I died? Is that real, too?” You mutter, looking up at the men through your lashes.

Everyone in the room was tense at your question. Out of all the things you could’ve brought up, you chose one thing no one wants to remember. Jing Yuan clears his throat, placing his cutlery down on the plate.

Jing Yuan crosses his arms over his chest. “That is something we do not bring up or talk about for very good reasons, [Y/N],” Jing Yuan states.

The mere tone and body language of the General of the Xianzhou Luofu sends chills down your spine. It’s not that you’re afraid or nervous, it’s something you’re not used to. From what you can recall, Jing Yuan has always been sweet to you and would spoil you with every chance he gets. However, this sudden shift in tone and body language when you brought up the topic of your death was something you didn’t expect. 

You hesitantly nod. “Okay, I won’t bring it up,” you mutter against the straw.

Later that day, you’re in Eternal Holy City Okhema, hanging out with the others. While the others are engrossed in their surroundings, you sit to the side, trying not to be engulfed by your inner turmoil. Blade sits beside you, occasionally glancing at you. You close your eyes, sighing.

“What’s on your mind?” Blade mutters.

You hug your legs to your chest and rest your chin on your knees. “A lot of things are occupying my thoughts, Blade. It’s been nothing but bothersome,” you whisper, pressing your lips into a thin line.

“What could be occupying your head? It’s better to let things come to you naturally, no?” Dr. Ratio mutters, now sitting beside you while ignoring the glare Blade shoots in his direction.

So much for having some alone time with you.

You puff your cheeks out in frustration and run your hands through your hair, tempted to tug at the roots. That is what you’re doing, letting all of your memories come back to you in bits and pieces without trying to force them to return to you. Dr. Ratio grabs your hand, gently pulling it away from your head, and places your hand onto his lap. Blade narrows his eyes at Dr. Ratio, as if he’s mentally plotting the man’s demise. 

“You guys already know how I am. Why can’t you guys tell me a few memories you have of me to help speed up the process?” You grumble, watching Dr. Ratio play with your hand.

“If we did tell you a memory we have of you, would that really help you regain your memory?” Sunday interjects, now standing before you with his hands propped on his hips. “I understand that it’s frustrating to walk around with little to no memory of who you and those around you are, but you cannot force yourself to regain your memories.”

You huff in response, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re regurgitating information I already know, Sunday. At least, once we return to the Astral Express, I won’t have to deal with your calculating stares. You kind of intimidate me, Sunday.”

Sunday stares at you, unsure whether he should be offended by your comment or feel relieved that you remember that you find him intimidating. Wait, does he have a calculating stare? Sunday turns to Blade and Dr. Ratio for confirmation, only to see both of them nodding already without having to ask verbally. 

You quickly interrupt before Sunday can ask, “Don’t take it personally, Sunday. I usually find pretty people intimidating, and you happen to be one of them.” You shrug, rubbing your now throbbing temples, “You and those pretty angel wings behind your ears.” 

Sunday stares at you with amusement, the corner of his lips curving up. The halovian looks away, his cheeks turning bright red at your compliment. Oh, Aeons, if only you two were alone, then he could finally snatch you up for himself and claim you as his and his only. The mere thought of sharing you with other people, such as the Aeon of Destruction—a being that has nothing but lust for blood and destruction— disgusts Sunday. Is it too late to snatch you away for himself? This time, he will take you to the edge of the cosmos so no one can find both of you. It’ll just be you and him in another universe with no one else to interfere. He will make sure that no one can find both of you this time. 

“Hello, hello. What are we talking about over here?” Jiaoqiu asks, approaching your group with Moze by his side.

Moze crosses his arms over his chest, staring you down. “You’re not up to something, are you?” The gray-haired man asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“What?! No! And even if I am, how would I pull it off with amnesia?” You grouse, glaring at the Shadow Guard.

Your glare doesn’t faze Moze as he and Jiaoqiu sit across from you, Dr. Ratio, and Blade. On the other hand, Sunday continues standing, deep in his thoughts, while staring at you. Dr. Ratio, Blade, Jiaoqiu, and Moze raise their eyebrows at Sunday before looking at each other, checking to see if the others around them notice Sunday’s strange behavior.

“Hey, you six! How’s it going over here? Are you guys enjoying Amphoreus after being here for two months?” Phainon asks, approaching your group with a cute smile. 

The five men don’t respond to Phainon at first, all staring at him with varying expressions. When Phainon’s cute smile morphs to an awkward one after not receiving an answer, Jiaoqiu politely answers for the group. Phainon turns to you, looking at you from head to toe, craning his head to look at every detail of you. It’s not new to you to have Phainon examine you, but for the others, it looks like he was shamelessly checking you out. Perhaps he’s doing both, who knows!

Mydei struts up to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s time to return.” The Crown Prince states, not leaving room for protests.

“Huh? Already? But then I’m going to be holed up in my room doing nothing until tomorrow,” you mutter, staring at the Crown Prince in disbelief.

Anaxa stands beside the Crown Prince, holding up the same thick book he was rambling about a few days ago. “If you’d like, I can go over some things you missed out on after you fell asleep,” Anaxa suggests, flashing you that charming smile of his.

You stare at Anaxa and Mydei for a moment, conflicted. You could ask someone to get your phone for you, so you can keep yourself occupied while you’re on bed rest, but since you don’t remember your password and didn’t activate face recognition, that’s out of the options. After thinking for a few minutes, you shrug, looking at Anaxa.

“What the hell, sure,” you said, allowing Anaxa to drag you.

Even though you’ve been gaining your memories little by little, Mydei has advised you not to leave Amphoreus until you recover all of your memories. It sounds impossible because those who suffer amnesia can either regain their memories after a week, or it’ll take months. Heck, in some cases, there are people who never fully recover their memories after having amnesia. That’s one of your biggest concerns, but you’ve been quite fortunate not to have to be the third option. 

Despite being almost a hundred percent recovered, you wake up in your temporary room to a room full of red roses—not just any red roses, but the same red roses that are named after a certain Knight of Beauty. You rub your eyes, trying to process what you see. How in the world did Argenti manage to sneak over dozens of red roses into your room while you’re asleep?

Argenti stands at the edge of your bed, smiling at you. “Good morning, my beautiful red rose. What do you think? Only someone as beautiful as you deserves to wake up to being surrounded by roses.” He asks, gesturing to the wall of flowers surrounding you two.

Before you can respond to Argenti’s question, Sampo’s loud sneeze interrupts you. Everyone in the room flinches. You stare at Sampo, seeing him sniffle and rub his nose. Sampo gives you a sympathetic look, rubbing the back of his head.

“Are you okay, Sampo?” You ask, scooting close to the edge of the bed.

Sampo waves off your concern. “Oh, don’t worry about me, gumdrop! I’m just having slight allergies right now. Nothing to worry about! I can pop an allergy medication, and I should be fine,” Sampo says, giving you a thumbs up before sneezing into the crook of his arm.

Sampo turns to look at Luocha with an expectant stare, only for the blond man to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Luocha digs into his pocket and pulls out a medicine bottle, handing it to Sampo without question. You raise your eyebrows at Sampo and Luocha. It seems like Luocha’s prepared for this specific moment.

Luocha shakes his head. “Don’t question it. I have to be prepared somehow, unless you want him to sneeze over twenty times in one day,” Luocha mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The longer you stare at the roses around you, the more you can’t help but yearn for the outdoors. You hug your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees with a soft exhale. The men around you stare at you worriedly, wondering if you’re not satisfied with the number of roses in your room. If you want more, they can certainly get you more! All you have to do is say the magic word, and they shall make your dreams come true. 

Mr. Yang props his hands on his hips. “Is there something wrong?” He asks, examining you closely.

You smile and shake your head. “Not really, Mr. Yang. But I do want to know one thing…” You trail off, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Would they even allow it if you asked them? They wouldn’t be against it, would they?

“And that is…?” Dan Heng asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

Oh, fuck it. It’s not like they’ll be keeping you imprisoned on Amphoreus.

“When can I return to the Astral Express? How come you guys are allowed to return to the Astral Express, but I have to stay here?” You ask, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

After regaining consciousness, everyone would stop by Amphoreus and keep you company, but when it’s bedtime for you, they board the Astral Express for the night. Heck, some of them would return to Penacony, the Xianzhou Luofu, Jarilo-VI, and the Herta Space Station to tend to their duties.

Then there’s you: stuck on Amphoreus in your hospital room with nothing to do but watch the skies change color. Sometimes you’re allowed to walk around the hospital, but only if you’re given permission. Luocha would assist the doctors with your treatment, making sure you’re healing properly, and he would keep you company during your checkups (which are every other day). As for Jiaoqiu, he makes sure you take your medications—yes, by making you eat spicy food. It works, if you have to be honest. But it does make you use the toilet more than you would like, but hey, if it works, it works.

Moze raises an eyebrow at your question. “What? Are you not enjoying your time on Amphoreus?” Moze mutters, looking at Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa from the corner of his eye.

You rub your temples, shaking your head. “What’s there to enjoy when I’m constantly cooped up in this room?”

“Uh, that’s not true! Remember, you were chilling in the hospital garden for lunch and we were at Eternal Holy City Okhema not long ago!” Boothill interjects, only to falter. “Now that I think about it, you seem more like a prisoner than a visitor on Amphoreus.” 

You scoot to the edge of the bed and stand up, stretching your legs. “I understand that my stay in this hospital is to monitor my healing progress, but I should be allowed to stop by the Astral Express once a week to say hi to Pom-Pom. I miss the little guy.”

Gallagher shrugs, nodding his head. “I mean, they have a point. Luocha and Jiaoqiu have been helping with the healing process; they should’ve been able to stop by the Astral Express after being mostly healed from their injuries.”

Despite being cooped up in your hospital room most of the time, Nanook did find ways to keep you entertained. Whenever you fall asleep, Nanook visits you in your dreams. He would create a world for you, a world you have never seen before (it could be Amphoreus; you have never explored Amphoreus before, so how would you know?). The skies are pink and blue; it’s warm but not uncomfortably warm. Every time you fall asleep, you and Nanook meet in that very same world, spending time together until you wake up.

You snap out of your thoughts when Dr. Ratio taps your forehead, trying to grab your attention. You grab Dr. Ratio’s finger, staring at him blankly. 

“Daydreaming while we try to explain to you about your conditions? How disrespectful,” Dr. Ratio mutters, reaching to pinch your nose. 

You smack his hand away and try to mimic him, only for him to grab your wrist and pull you into his arms. You’re tempted to protest, but getting a hug from Dr. Ratio is quite rare in your case. You don’t know the man long enough to breathe the same air.

Sunday glares at Dr. Ratio from afar. “Oi, would it kill you to be careful with them!?” Sunday hisses.

Dr. Ratio raises his eyebrows at Sunday, smirking with amusement. Dr. Ratio pats your head without taking his eyes off of Sunday. If anyone stares at Sunday long enough, maybe they’ll see steam coming from his ears.

Caelus clears his throat. “You can return to the Astral Express. You’ve been cleared by your doctor this morning before we started setting up the red roses in your room,” Caelus says, shrugging his shoulders. “If we do that, I would like to volunteer to show you my bedroom renovations!” Caelus props his hands on his hips with a proud smirk. 

You stare at Caelus, mouth agape. Were you gone for that long?! Caelus walks over to you, scrolling on his phone to find pictures of his newly renovated bedroom on the Astral Express. The gray-haired man hands you his phone, letting you swipe through the photos. Caelus has a bar, bathroom, gaming area, and living space in his room. 

You look at Caelus, handing his phone back. “Are you looking for a roommate by chance?”

Caelus snickers. “As long as the Aeon of Destruction doesn’t bunk with us, yes, I am looking for a roommate.”

“Not going to happen.” The men simultaneously say, glaring at Caelus.

March glares at Caelus. “We have our own rooms on the Astral Express for a reason, Caelus! Besides, [Y/N]’s room is cute and comfortable! Your room is doing too much on the Express,” March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

You shrug. “I think it’s an introvert’s dream. It’s kind of like a studio apartment, but on a train.”

March suddenly gasps, marching over to where you stand and cups your face in her hands, eyes wide with wonder. “Wait, does this mean you have your memories back!?” She shrieks, shaking you back and forth.

You squeeze your eyes shut and place your hands over hers, gently squeezing them. “I mean, they’ve been coming back little by little, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Luka furrows his eyebrows at you, walking towards you and March. “Wait, does that mean you remember what happened before you vanished for months?”

You shake your head. “Not really? I don’t remember that much. I remember most things that happened before I magically appeared on Amphoreus.”

People around you groan at another (temporary) dead end on the mystery of your disappearance. After getting you checked out of the hospital, everyone returns to the Astral Express, carrying the roses back to the train. As for Sampo, he’s giving you piggyback rides to the Astral Express so he wouldn’t have to carry his allergies onto the train. While your group is ahead, Phainon, Mydei, and Anaxa fall behind.

“Are we really not going to tell them?” Phainon mutters. “They’re going to hate us for this if they ever find out themselves.”

Mydei shakes his head, clutching the roses to his chest. “There’s no point in telling them. I’m sure [Y/N] will inform them when they remember. That is, if the trauma didn’t block out the memory,” Mydei mutters. 

Anaxa shakes his head. “I’m sure they’ll be fine if they find out themselves. Besides, if I recall correctly, this isn’t the first time [Y/N] died in this dimension.”

What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right? 

Note: Again, I sincerely apologize for not updating the HSR series in so long ;v; I'm still behind on the game. I have yet completed the Xianzhou quest with the Wardance and March being on the path of Hunt. While I work on the Love&Deepspace fanfic (it won't be too long since it's about 95% completed in the drafts), I'm going to try to catch up on HSR. It's going to take some time, though. I was informed that the Amphoreus quest from the start to the current quest is about 28 hours. If you're interested in joining my Discord server, the invite to my Discord server can be found [HERE]! The Discord server invite links will be different every time I post a new fanfic, and these links have expiration dates. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist: No taglist for this update:) will be making a new one in the future

Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows? You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[kaiser1ns]

#. FALLIN' FOR YA

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. togame jo, takiishi chika, umemiya hajime, endo yamato, sakura haruka, kaji ren

fluff. to say you have fallen in love is one thing, but to fall for him was something you didn't expect.

TOGAME JO

You found yourself on the rooftop of Ori, the headquarters of the Shishitoren gang, high above the ground, your heart racing as you glanced down. You had no idea how you ended up here or what possessed you to climb this high, but now you were stuck, paralyzed by fear.

"Baby, I am scared," your voice trembled as you looked down at Togame who had come to your rescue. It wasn't that high — you'd seen the way Choji jumped like a monkey, scaling the building in seconds. But you were neither Choji nor a monkey.

Your boyfriend stood below, his beautiful green eyes reflected calmness. A lazy smile played on his lips as he held out his arms. "Angel, just jump. I will catch you."

"That's even more scary. We will both get hurt," you protested, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked up at you, his smile never wavering. "Come on now, nothing bad can happen."

"Jo, do you understand that I can literally break mine and your bones?" you said, stepping back from the edge, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"The only thing you will break is my heart if you decide to stay there any longer," he said softly. You let out a big sigh, taking a few more deep breaths before finally deciding to overcome your fear. "Alright... On three."

He began to count for you, "One... two... three!"

With your eyes squeezed shut, you jumped from the rooftop, bracing for the impact. But instead of hitting the hard ground, you felt his strong arms catch you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" he whispered into your ear, a playful lilt in his voice.

You were on the verge of tears from the fear and stress of the situation, and here he was, flirting with you. "I should have stayed there," you replied, burying your face in his shoulder, half relieved and half annoyed.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

You had never thought you'd develop feelings for Takiishi Chika. Yet, here you were, inexplicably drawn to the red-headed boy who had somehow let you inside his usually closed comfort zone. One day, you found yourself asking him to teach you some defensive techniques. Just in case, you told him, you ended up alone without him in sight, which will never happen.

"So I clench my fist like this and then I—" you began, mimicking his earlier demonstration.

Elbow strikes could be thrown sideways like a hook, upwards like an uppercut, downwards with the point of the elbow, diagonally, or directly, even during a jump. As you tried to attack him, he easily stopped you, his hand catching yours, of course he will stop you he is the strongest after all.

"Don't tighten your muscles so much, and don't squat like that," he instructed, his voice calm yet firm, you loved listening to him on the rare moments he decided to speak.

You nodded, resetting your stance. Determined to impress him, you moved faster this time, but your foot caught on nothing, and you started to fall. Before you could hit the ground, his hands catched your wrists, steadying you as your body leaned closer.

Your eyes locked, his gaze made your heart race, and you were sure you were going to kiss at any second. You had fallen for him, deeply, and there was no turning back. But then, he let go, and you landed on your butt with a thud.

"Ow," you muttered, rubbing the sore spot. "What was that for, Chika?"

When you looked up, he was already walking away, his back to you. First he makes you fall for him and then making you chase after him — a typical game of cat and mouse.

You scrambled to your feet, quickly closing the distance between you. As you caught up, he glanced at you with a sidelong look, letting out a sigh. Despite his cold behaviour, you didn't miss the way his hand found its place on your waist, holding you close. You may have fallen for him, but he fell harder for you ... but you didn't hear it from me, alright?

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You have always been close to the members of Bofurin, especially with their leader, with whom you had a strange relationship, you were together but at the same time you were not. Nothing was official, but everything was real — from holding hands to kissing eachother. Right now you are not trying to think about it as you help the first years paint. Perched on a mini staircase, you meticulously worked on the higher parts, lost in the rhythm of the brush strokes.

"You are doing so well, Y/N-chan!" A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was; that voice was unmistakable.

"Hajime, you scared me!" you exclaimed, your heart fluttering, as he laughed at you.

"Oh, did I? I am sorry," he said, his tone teasing. You rolled your eyes at him playfully as he crossed his arms and watched you work, a smile adoring his beautiful and gentle face.

Turning around, you noticed that it had fallen unusually silent. The first years were nowhere to be seen. Confused, you asked, "Where is everyone?"

"I made them go to Kotoha to get lunch. You can't work while hungry," he explained, his eyes soft with concern. He always cared about others and that was one of the things you liked about him.

Shaking your head with a smile, you returned to your painting, stretching to reach the higher spots. Suddenly, the staircase wobbled beneath you, and you lost your balance, but before you could fall, strong arms caught you.

"My little shooting star~ I guess my wish came true," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. Your cheeks flamed with embarrassment as you buried your face in his chest, the scent of him filling your senses. "What wish?" you wondered and asked him looking into his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes you could drown in as if you were in the ocean.

"The one where you finally fall for me!" you didn't know if he was joking or not, but even with that playful tone, he was completely serious.

"Is this how we are making it official?" you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt.

"I guess it is," he replied softly, his arms tightening around you. Here, in his embrace, was where you belonged, as you have fallen in the right place at the right time.

ENDO YAMATO

You stumble slightly as you walk, your heels clicking against the pavement as you walked hand in hand with Endo, his grip was reassuring somehow distracting you, yet you couldn't help but hiss from the pain in your feet. Those heels were a mistake, but they were the perfect finishing touch to your outfit. You curse yourself for choosing fashion over comfort, wanting everything to be perfect tonight.

"You okay there?" Endo asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. His voice was filled with genuine concern, sometimes it surprised you how much he cares for you, even for the smallest things.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about. It's fine," you replied, trying to mask the discomfort. He glanced at you with those thoughtful eyes that always seemed to be searching for something. "Y/N, I may be a very bad judge of character, but I know when a person experiences pain." His words were more of a hint than a statement, and you knew he was right.

You stopped walking, intending to turn to him and reassure him face to face. But as you twisted your body, your ankle gave away. You felt yourself tipping forward, bracing for the impact of the fall.

But it never came. Endo caught you, his tattooed arms strong and steady around you. "Careful, doll. Don't fall so soon for me," he teased, the mischievousness never leaving his eyes.

Your heart raced, not just from the near fall, but from the way he held you, the way you could melt right on the spot. You had always been unpredictable around him, your feelings a whirlwind that neither of you fully understood.

"Yamato," you whispered, looking up at him. His carefree personality masked a complexity you were only beginning to uncover. He made you feel loved despite him not knowing how to identify his own emotions.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours as he wondered how you do the things you do? Why do you make him feel... like this? He had hard time recognising what's happening inside his brain and heart. He never understood the emotions people around him expressed because he thought it just was how he was meant to live — like a lifeless soul.

You smiled, your heart swelling a bit uncertainty, but there was nothing to lose this time. "I like you." you admitted.

He blinked, processing your words as if you were speaking gibberish. "You... really do?" he asked, the surprise in his eyes was genuine, and for a moment, you wondered if you had made a mistake.

"If I didn't liked you, I wouldn't have gone on so many dates with you," you repeated, more confidently this time. "I didn't mean to make things awkward, but I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re serious?" You nodded, your heart was about to burst out, "Yes, I am. I know you might not feel the same way, because dating isn't your thing. I just... needed you to know."

Endo's gaze softened, and the playfulness in his eyes was replaced by something deeper, something you had never seen before coming from him.

"Y/N, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "You’ve been driving me crazy, in the best possible way."

A smile spread across your face, the pain in your feet forgotten. "Glad to know that." He chuckled, "But I can’t have you walking around in pain all night," he said, glancing down at your heels. "Here, let me help."

You looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?" Without another word, Endo crouched down in front of you, patting his back. "Hop on. I’ll give you a piggyback ride. Princesses should be taken care of."

SAKURA HARUKA

It was Tsubaki idea to invite you, Kotoha and the first years to the biggest sleepover in the history of Bofurin. He treasured you like a little sister, and took a liking in the new students especially Sakura — the boy who proved himself worthy for the gang, and the boy despite his confidence in most situations had a peculiar inability to speak or act normally around you.

The night’s activities progressed, and soon everyone found themselves engaged in a lively game of Twister. One by one, players stumbled and fell, until only you and Sakura were left on the mat. Nirei spun the wheel and called out, "Left hand on red," signaling Sakura’s turn. He gulped hard, his eyes widening slightly as he realized the predicament. You were directly beneath him, your bodies precariously close. Sakura carefully stretched his left hand towards the red circle as your hand was on the blue one, his fingers brushing yours as he did so.

The atmosphere grew tense, heat radiating from both of you as sweat glistened on his brow. His face flushed with a rosy hue, betraying his nerves and the overwhelming proximity. Meanwhile, Suo watched the unfolding scene with delight, clearly enjoying the awkward dance of two fools in love.

Nirei spun the wheel again, as he announced, "Y/N-chan, left hand on green." You felt your muscles strain, you were in a push-up position and you had to turn your whole body to reach the green circle. Every fiber in your hands screamed with effort as you managed the turn, finding yourself directly under Sakura.

The eye-patched boy, ever the prankster, seized the moment and nudged Sakura’s leg just enough to cause a slight wobble. The sudden movement startled you, and before you could steady yourself, your hands slipped. The world seemed to slow as you fell, leaving you face to face with Sakura, who had caught himself just in time.

You found yourself caged between his arms, his face mere inches from yours. His breath hitched, his cheeks a deep crimson that seemed almost like a new shade to add in the red pallet. The warmth of his body radiated into yours, his bicoloured eyes locked onto yours — panic and longing swirling within them. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out, only the soft sound of his breath mingling with yours.

Sakura wanted to kiss you, wanted to know what's it like to kiss the girl he held feelings for ... He wanted you and was not going to be a coward about it. Just as he decided to bend down even less the door opened and Tsubaki's voice echoed around the room causing him to startle and lose his balance falling on top of you.

"Oh, my! I am sorry, did I interrupt something?" Tsubaki asked, genuinely concerned about the two of you, putting his hand on his mouth from the surprised scene he stepped into.

Sakura's eyes widened in panic, but you could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Why couldn't he talk? His gaze, now tender and earnest, silently begged for understanding and perhaps a second chance, and pretty soon he will be able to express his feelings without a Twister next time.

KAJI REN

You were angry, extremely pissed to the point you just want to scream, throw something or someone in the pool, kill the next person who asks you another stupid question. Your nails dug into the flesh of your palms as you tried your best to stay calm. The one time you got Kaji to agree to go somewhere, some girls immediately flocked to him, even though he ignored them or politely said no.

You watched as he spoke to them, with their polite smiles, but there was nothing nice about them, only fueling your irritation. It wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be your time with him. You took a deep breath, trying to rationalize your thoughts. It wasn't his fault, after all, but it didn't make the sting any less sharp.

"Y/N," Kaji's voice pulled you from your thoughts. He had walked away from the crowd of girls and was now standing in front of you, his expression concerned, he's never seen you like this. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do you think I'm okay, Kaji?"

He blinked, taken aback by your tone, as he was getting annoyed by the fact that you weren't telling him everything in the right context, "What’s wrong?"

"What's wrong?" you echoed mimicking his words, feeling your temper rise. "Do you really have to ask? Look around! Every time we go somewhere, you’re swarmed by girls. Can’t you see how frustrating that is?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and you looking at his well-shaped body. "You think I wanted that? Stop with this bullsh—"

Your frustration boiled over. Without thinking, you gave him a hard shove, sending him stumbling backwards. Before you could register what happened, he reached out, grabbing your wrist to steady himself. But it carried you both, and with a splash, you were both in the pool.

The water engulfed you, the coolness a shock to your heated skin. You struggled, disoriented, trying to find the surface. Panic set in as you realized you weren’t as good a swimmer as you thought. Just when you felt you couldn’t hold your breath any longer, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up.

You broke the surface, gasping for air, coughing and spluttering. Kaji held you close, his eyes wide with worry. "Breathe, Y/N, just breathe."

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to steady your breathing. He patted your back gently, his other hand cradling your head.

"You're so stupid," he murmured, though his tone was soft, almost affectionate. "Why would you do that?"

Your cheeks burned, both from embarrassment and from the closeness, as you realised how you are skin to skin. "I... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I was so mad."

You looked up at him, his eyes were judging you but it was out of concern, "I'm sorry," you whispered. "Listen, Y/N," he began, "Those girls don't matter to me. They never have and never will." He shook his head, his fingers brushing a wet strand of hair from your face, and you knew he meant it, otherwise you would have had fallen for him or in this case with him.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[baambied]

𝑹 𝑼 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬?

𝒆𝒙 ���𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

❝ SEVIKA ❞⠀

mdni cw possessive!sevika cursing yearning

protective!sevika makeout session

ex!sevika × fem!reader

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who let's out an audible scoff whenever she hears your name mentioned, making it seem as if she totally isn't affected by breakup between you two but in reality she's listening intently and completely focused on whatever the person is saying about you.

"it's whatever - you can talk about her doesn't bother me. ."

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who, despite all the disagreements , arguments, and the whole relationship ending, she still cares so deeply for you , she knows her love for you would and will never fade even if thousands of years go by you'll always be on her mind.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who hates when you still come to the same bar she introduced you to, seeing you sitting at the bar with your friends instead of you sipping on a beer while on her lap as she plays a game of cards.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who swiftly follows you out the door of the bar to walk you home - well walking a few feet behind you as you make your way home without you noticing - making sure you dont get hurt by anyone.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who still pays for your drinks at the bar without you knowing, going up to the bartender and asking them to put whatever you order on her tab.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who's glare you can feel from a mile away when some random person comes up to you offering to buy you a drink.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who goes up to the guy while their coming out of the bathroom and threatens them to never step a single foot near you again or she'd made sure they will never be able to step foot in the bar as long as they live.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who still has all those little cute love notes you wrote her during the relationship, and small items you've given her during that time. . . she keeps them in a box in her closet, not daring to threw anything so precious away.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who still 'anonymously' send you flowers every valentines day since the day you two split up. . she sends you your favorite type of flowers because she remembers you mention the name a few times during the relationship.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who can't help but smile when she's still the person you count on for certain things. You who are not that proud of this, but anytime you are in trouble or need help, sevika is the one you immediately call because even though you two broke up - you know you're still able to trust her - some man keeps bothering you anytime you're on the way to work so you call sevika about it and next thing you know you never have to see that man's face again.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who isn't the type to immediately talk or flirt with other women after a break up ? You were the only woman who was able to make to turn her head so far to the point her brain started thinking about marriage - there was just no way another woman could have the same affect you had on her . . . nor would she allow another woman to even get close to her.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who still has the pretty lingerie set you surprised her with on her birthday. . . It was around the beginning of your relationship, so she still remembers the shy expression on your face as you lay in the middle of her bed.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who keeps all the recipes of the sweet deserts you used to make her, she attempts to replicate them, but every time she does, she's meant with utter disappointment as the food doesn't taste like yours.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who still has a picture of you in her wallet , and a little note you wrote her once when she went to work angry, you didn't know how to make her feel better so instead you left a short note in her wallet for her find later in the day.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who threatens (or even lays a few punches on) any man who talks bad or suggestive about you - even when asked who is she to you the woman can't help but say "don't speak about my girlfriend that way" and when you find out and confront her about it youre not even suprise when she just gives you a look and says "would you rather those fools make moves on you? i just said that to get them off your ass.. don't take it personally. "

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who notices one time at the bar, a man got way too close for your own comfort , and sevika - being able to read you like an open book could tell by the expression on your face you were very uncomfortable with the lingering attention from the man. . .and the next thing you know was the man being knocked out cold onto the ground.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who let's you shout at her for punching the guy and causing a scene when you could have taken care of it yourself - and in response to your yelling sevika just stares at you in silence . . her mind just thinking about how you look like a real-life beautiful angel standing in front of her.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who still has the bracelet that is the color of your eyes around her wrist, it was something you and her did months ago - you having a pretty bracelet with gray pearls on it while she has a bracelet with pearls the same color of your eyes.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who gets incredibly annoyed when she can't find a lighter to spark up her cigar, she soon gets even more annoyed when she realizes your the one who usually carries a lighter so you could spark it.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 --who can still smell the scent of your gentle vanilla scented shampoo on one of her pillows from when you used to sleep over her house.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who walks you home after you had one too many drinks , stumbling over your own feet as her mechanical arm was secured around your waist , slurring out incoherent words to her as the two of you walked down the street. . . sevika couldn't help the small smirked that pulled at her lips.

"i - d-dont need *hiccup* -you!" Your sentence coming out slurred as it meant sevika's ears.

"Oh really now?" The broad woman responded back with a shit eating grin, she was amused at this situation - and a little surprised because you weren't one to drink until you couldn't even walk straight so this was new.

"no! I'm fine-"

"shh shh shh doll, let's get you home. ."

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who ends up taking you to her house instead since you were to out of it to find your keyys , she let's you take her bed . . tucking you in her dark red covers , while she slept in the small couch in her living room along with the pillow that still had the scent of your gentle vanilla shampoo.

𝒆𝒙!𝒈𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 -- who wakes up early to fix up some breakfast for you, making some eggs and cutting up your favorite fruits to have on the side . . . and making sure there was water and pain reliever on the side for you to take.

sevika ears perk up when she hears the soft padded of your feet under on the floor. She could tell you were making your way to the kitchen.

you walk in the kitchen, eyes immediately finding sevika who was by the sink placing a frying pan inside - the smell of fried eggs hitting your nose as you stepped in further.

"what am i doing here? sevika-"

"There's pain reliever on the table beside you."

you open your mouth to say something - anything but sevika was right, your head was hurting like a bitch. . . and it wasn't common for you to drink to the point you had a bad hangover the morning after, and you knew sevika was aware of this, making you feel slightly embarrassed and you felt slightly uncomfortable as you were still in your clothes from last night.

you grab the pills in your palm, bringing them to your lips and swallowing them dry, this quick action made you go into a small coughing fit.

"Jesus- there was water right here.." sevika softly grumbled under her breath as she grabbed the glass of water and brought it towards you , bringing it to your lips - gulping down the water humming at the feeling of the room temperature water hit your dry throat.

during this, your eyes couldn't help but flicker up to sevika's. . almost immediately, you felt a warmth wash over your body - butterflies annoyingly flapping their wings around the pit of the stomach. . old sparks from when you two were together reignited, and the warming - loving look in sevika's gaze made your knees buckle.

it seemed sevika felt the same, both your heart pounding in usion , sevika couldn't look away from your eyes - almost mesmerized by the depth in them. . . studying you almost.

both of your eyes staring into each other , filled with so much emotion - holding so much emotion all at once . . you both wanted nothing more than to let those emotions out.

next thing you know, sevika's lips are on yours, the abandoned glass cup of water now on the ground shattered into pieces , causing sevika to swiftly move her arm under your legs carrying you up and placing you on the counter , your body squirmed as you felt her hands on your waist - still in your cute miniskirt from last night you could feel it riding up by the fast movement.

the kiss was uncoordinated , sloppy even . . driven by pure urgency and desire - a sense of need and longing as if the two of you were waiting for this exact moment. Your fingers making it seem way into sevika dark hair, tugging is softly as you leaned more into her.

"missed you so much. ." sevika states , her sentence coming out more like a growl as her lips made its way away from your now swollen lips and to your neck - you felt flutters in stomach at her words because. . . you missed her too , a part of you is genuinely shocked that you went on for a few months without her by your side.

"i - i could have taken care of - myself last night. ." Your words fumbling with a mix of whines at the feeling of sevika's teeth gently biting your flesh on your neck , "okay. ." sevika responds with a single word to your statement.

"and. . you didn't have to punch that guy , i could have hand- handled that. ."

"okay. . okay baby , i know. ."

silence took over the kitchen, just the sounds of sevika sucking on your skin and the sounds of your breathy soft moans floating in the air , and you can't say that you're shocked that you're making out with sevika - aka your ex girlfriend while sitting on her counter. . . because somehow a part of you always knew the two of you would find your way in this predicament somehow, it was almost like everywhere you went sevika was in the same room - coincidence or not . . it was like you two were destined together , like a magnet pulling at one another.

and here as you sat in her arms, hands in her hair while her lips worked on your neck. . . you couldn't help but feel like this was all supposed to happen and honestly you wouldn't want it any other way

you were her's , and she was yours.

reader crazy for breaking up with sevika in the first place smh 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[luveline]

Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤

thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k

“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 

Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 

He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 

“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 

He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 

“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 

“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 

You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 

“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 

He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 

He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 

It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 

He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 

He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 

Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 

In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 

Today, right now, that’s crackers. 

“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 

“I’m back,” she agrees. 

“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 

“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 

Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 

He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 

“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 

Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 

He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 

“I’m just changing!” 

“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 

You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 

“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 

She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 

“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 

“Yes please, daddy.” 

Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  

“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 

“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 

Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 

“Yes, please,” Sarah says.

You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 

He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 

“Thanks, daddy.” 

You breathe in. 

Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 

“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 

Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 

“She did.” 

“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 

“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.

“She just loves you,” you say. 

“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 

You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 

You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 

He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 

Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 

“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 

“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 

Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 

He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 

“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 

“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 

“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 

“Big changes.” 

He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 

Your shoulders finally relax. 

[howtofightwrite]

So. There is no safe place (in the body) to be shot. There are places that are slightly safer than others to be stabbed (i.e. being stabbed in the meat of your calf is less likely to be lethal than your torso). For the purposes of an arrow wound, which feels like a combination of shot+stab for a swords n sorcery world, is there a “less lethal” place to take an arrow? My character is traveling with companions and gets into a fun little goblin skirmish. I need her to catch an arrow somewhere that will be concerning, but not immediately fatal. Magic Bullshit™️ will keep the wound from healing properly for a few days, but I’ve accounted for field wound care (cleaning and bandaging and such) as she’s being taken on horseback to get proper treatment.

Not deeply.

So, the problem with all of these is tissue disruption. If the injury gets deep enough, the chances that it will hit something vital (especially on the torso) increase dramatically. So, getting stabbed and having the blade catch bone, instead of getting in deeper is “relatively” safe. Similarly, getting stabbed (or shot) in the hand or foot is unlikely to kill you (though, those injuries are likely to result in permanent damage impairing the use of injured appendage.)

Arrows are a little different, in a couple of ways. First, if you get shot, you do not want to pull that off (nor break it off and push it through.) That will increase the risk of bleeding out. Arrows make fairly large holes in people, but if the arrow sticks in the wound (which, it should) it will actually limit the amount of bleeding. Effectively the wound has a partial plug in it. Pulling out the arrow means that plug is no longer there, and they can happily bleed to death on the spot.

The second thing about arrows is that they actually pin muscle together. Think of it a bit like holding two pieces of meat together with a toothpick. If the toothpick isn't there, the pieces can slide across each other without issue, but that's not possible when there's a wooden shaft running through them. Your muscles are a complex web of meat, that slide over each other as you move. Pinning those together means that part of your body will actually lock up. For example, if you're shot in the shoulder, you won't be able to adjust the position of your arm. It's been toothpicked, and it's not going anywhere.

Arrowheads can get wedged in bone. If it's a broad head, or hunting tip, that will be obnoxious to get out.

At the risk of reading too much into your setting, goblins often means poisons, or other nastiness. Though, really, even just getting a tetanus infection (it used to be called “lock jaw”) from their blades is a pretty horrific potential fate. Even if the wounds themselves were relatively minor (cuts and scrapes, maybe a graze or two), a couple days might still result in some pretty horrific harm after the fact.

Also, remember, it's unlikely that bacteria will be understood by the medical science of your setting. So, first aid would still run a real risk of secondary infections.

Depending on their skill in first aid, anything outside of a severed artery or catastrophic organ damage should be (technically) survivable, though the wounds could easily result in permanent impairments, depending on exactly what was hit. A punctured lung might not kill her, but it could result in permanent respiratory issues, such as a cough, and chronic pain while breathing heavily from then on. It could also result in pneumonia and death, which is also, usually, pretty permanent.

Some of this depends more on where you want to land on a spectrum between dark fantasy and swords & sorcery. The genres are similar (and potentially overlapping), but can scatter out into dramatically different works. But, you do have some options on how you want to proceed.

-Starke

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[shownohajimarida]

In the Beginning...

In the beginning, God made phantoms and thieves.

If you're reading this in English, there's a 90% chance you first learned the word Kaitou from Kaito himself—and only slowly come to realize just how many corners of Japanese pop-culture it's really bled into, from Tezuka to Tuxedo Mask to Princess Peach. There's thieves, there's thieves with style, and then there's phantom thieves. A law unto themselves in their own worlds and ours, a breed of gentlemen who can magically stay gentlemen while doing the most ungentlemanly things known to society.

You'd need a book—probably a whole shelf—to properly explore all the ancestors of this proud archetype, never mind all the twists and turns it's taken in modern times. But we're a bunch of poors in money and time, so let's settle for just one tonight.

Fun fact, there's a doctor in Japan who runs a full-time clinic, lectures for one of the top med schools, and still finds room to blog about his fifty-odd niche interests. With him lighting the way, we tracked down this: the oldest book Japan's National Library has ever picked the word Kaitou out of.

Not a gentleman sort of book, you'd assume—and be absolutely right. Dated 1908 (just a little after Leblanc's Lupin, just a little before his first Japanese translation), Eishirō Suzuki's Strange Worlds is a loud, proud freakshow, trotting out ghost story after tall tale after Believe-It-Or-Not article about some wackos in America marrying in a lion cage. Our story of interest comes about halfway in: six pages and change, unmistakably headed 怪盗.

What lies within? A tragically forgotten ancestor to this great and greatly profitable archetype? Or a dead-end that happens to share the name and damn little else? Or, despite all odds, a combination of both?

Why don't you see for yourself?

Pull up a seat, grab a drink, and enjoy our exhaustive translation of history's first...

Phantom Thief

In the days of Jōkyō,¹ near Shitaya's Ikenohata-town, a pawn-shop called Yamaguchi Place² stood rich beyond imagining. Its master, with eleven vaults to his name, was a long and proud worshiper at the Benzaiten³ shrine on Shinobazu Pond. Now, it happened that this man heard the Shogun’s offices had recently surveyed the pond for land-filling, and grew troubled.

One evening, having closed early and settling the day's accounts, the boy tending the shop heard a tap at the front door, and opened to look. Lo and behold—there was a magnificent palanquin, inlaid four-square with silver, bound on every side by tens of fine, sentinel-eyed Samurai. Shocked, the boy ran to his master telling all. The master, no less shocked, came out with warm greetings, asking the company into his home.

Then from the palanquin emerged a most exquisite woman, so noble and divine of bearing that she might have been taken for a celestial maiden, with face sweeter than any peach or plum, and dress of the richest twill brocade. With hardly a sound this beauty sat, drew open her vermilion lips, and bade all listen—

“To begin, my being is not of flesh, but an envoy of Her Lady Benzaiten, in whom thou hast believed all thy life. The Shogun's men mean to bury Shinobazu Pond, and Her Ladyship suffers no small distress hearing this, for Her own power may well draw sanctuary from any ladle's-worth of water, but Her kith and kin—some hundreds upon thousands of scales—must wilt and suffer without mires to call home. “Deep ran Benzaiten's pity, and with it a divine will to bring salvation of some, of any kind. Mercifully, thy garden declares a most generous pond, and in behalf of those kith and kin I call upon thee to guarantee it as their new sanctum. If thy faith in Benzaiten be strong and true, take not these words in vain. Know only that Her Ladyship wills a night of storm and squall, fast approaching, to lay Her kin. Come that day, thou shouldst make fast the doors of thy home, withdraw to thine own room, and put no eye at door-slit, nor foot outside to enquire. Heed this, and Benzaiten will grow thy riches ten-fold in reward. Such is my message, in sum.”

Hearing this, the man grew ecstatic—rapturous, even. He spared nothing treating his guest, servants and all, to the very end of their departure.

In less than a fortnight came a dawn with greying skies, and by afternoon rain was falling, the wind slowly rising. On this day the man chose to fast, thinking it the day Benzaiten would descend, and so admonished his family and cohorts, warning them to keep the doors firmly shut and let no-one out after dark.

As the night crept toward second-watch,⁴ the wind grew wilder and wilder, until all the trees and bamboo in the garden could be heard thrashing, and all the water in the pond roiling. Now every breath was held, every head bowed, every heart thundering, thinking it time for She to come. Gradually the rain stopped and the wind ebbed, and the master, unable to wait for dawn, immediately threw open the door, eyes cast on the garden and its pond. There, he saw fish darting—more than the prior day—and thought, Benzaiten, your fellows are sown. Then, thinking of the promised reward, he rushed to check his stores. But as he swept up and down the row of vaults behind his shop, what did he find? Every lock undone, and every door open! Now uneasy, he entered, and found nothing left! Not the pawn-goods, nor the furniture, nor the thousand-ryō boxes. Floor to ceiling, everything was nigh-bare. He stood alone, dumbfounded and gaping.

Now, it happened that a shrine sat in the mountains on Kōshū-Kaidō Road, and before this shrine came men in packs, reeking of banditry, laying down their fresh and ill-gotten gains, eager for a proper portioning.

Onto this the shrine opened its doors, and who should be shocked to see the bandits' chief! No older than twenty-eight years she stood, with beauty to shame the sky and stars. A beauty that laughed aloud and said—

“My, what lovely work, boys!”

It was this very enchantress who had gulled the shop-master by claiming to be a goddess's envoy—and then, catching the slightest storm, sent all these men to his shop in dead of night. Some had hitched ropes to trees and bamboo all around his garden, and whipped them to bluff the sounds of a roaring wind, while others had beaten at the pond to affect waves. Under such clamor they had cunningly hidden any sounds of vault doors opening, of wares being moved.

A most unusual—most phantasmic—thief, no?

—Eishirō Suzuki, Strange Worlds: Tall Tales and Oddities (1908).

¹ Approx. 1684–1688 CE. ² No relation to Kappei. That we know of. ³ Wealth goddess strongly associated with rivers and lakes. One of Japan's Seven Lucky Gods. ⁴ Approx. 9—11pm. Adapted from Old China's gēng-diǎn system, each "watch" marking one-fifth of the time between sunset and dawn.