#thinking of home while looking solemnly off into the distance

[squinch-depraved]

Jschlatt. But Y/N is being a brat. Thank you for your time. Have a good day.

okok you sweet thing thank you for your patience here we go

CW: killing bugs, aggressive facefucking, he smacks you once but its chill i swear

you had only agreed to a camping trip because you thought you would get to eat s'mores. but you were thoroughly disappointed when tucker forgot the marshmallows, crossing your arms and leaning back on the log you were sitting on with a harrumph, shrieking when you spilled backwards onto the rough pine needles behind you. schlatt helped you up as you giggled, chuckling softly himself.

"i texted you five separate times about the damn marshmallows, tucker," ted spoke through gritted teeth, eyeing his childhood best friend angrily.

"oh, you mean the marshmallows that were your job in the first place? you got everything else for 'em, ted, chocolate, graham crackers, but somehow you forgot the marshmallows for s'mores and I'M the one at fault!" tucker responded, chucking the pinecone he was playing with down at the ground in front of him.

"sshhhh!!" ted glanced at you, deep in a conversation with schlatt, and glared back at the man. "get up, let's walk down the trail to the general store and get some so we can have dessert," he grumbled, standing up and extending down his hand to help steady tucker as he followed suit.

the two men let you and schlatt know where they were going before heading a few dozen yards away to the rv where tucker and emma were sleeping to invite her along. she agreed and they set off, the couple holding hands and listening intently while ted made theatrical hand gestures and explained whatever tangent he was on.

it was quiet for a bit after ted's voice faded away, only the crackling fire punctuating the comfortable silence between you two, and schlatt tended to it solemnly, occasionally adding more wood to keep it big enough to last until they would return. he figured they'd be gone an hour and flicked his eyes to look at you about five minutes in.

you were still on your back, legs draped over the log you fell off, staring up at the brightest stars beginning to appear in the sky as dusk began to fall. he thought you looked angelic, and he startled you when he cleared his throat to speak.

"sorry," he started, shifting to face you more from his seat above you at the picnic table.

"you're good," you mumbled as you shook your head slightly, training your eyes back on the moon high above you.

"do you know if ted was kidding when he said we only have one tent?"

you laughed, remembering the sleeping arrangements, and shook your head. "do you see another one besides the one we have up?" you gestured broadly behind you somewhere, and, sure enough, schlatt saw a rather large rounded tent a small distance away.

he groaned and squashed a beetle on the ground with his boot, grinding the toe into the earth and smearing the bug beneath him. "i shouldn't have agreed to this," he complained. "two dudes above 6 foot in a tent plus you? no offense, toots, but we're not gonna all fit."

you sat up in shock, not at what he said, but at your clear view of his cruelty towards the feeble creature whose home he was invading. "why would you do that??" you shouted at him, weakly grabbing at his ankle and trying to move his foot by force. he picked his foot up and swiftly yet relatively gently shoved you in the chest with it, planting you on the ground once again.

"the fuck are you doin'?" he laughed mockingly. "it was just a bug, y/n, relax." he said it with a cruel smile and turned away to tend the fire pit. you growled quietly in frustration and sat up again, climbing to sit on the surface of the picnic table so you were almost eye-level with the tall man when he turned back to face you. you were quiet, apparently, and he hadn't heard you moving, so when he saw you there, he let out an embarrassing noise at the jumpscare and immediately began pretending it was something in the woods.

"no, i think that was actually a, um. a creature in the wilderness or something," he fumbled when you asked, sniffing his mustache a few times.

you continued to make fun of him, laughing at his stupid jokes and handing him small sticks to add to the burning pile. when he asked you to hand him his drink, just a few feet to your left, though, you said, "no."

he turned around slowly to look at you after adjusting the fire, as if giving you one final chance to pass it to him. "not askin' for much, toots," he warned.

"i don't feel like not killing bugs is asking for much, but here we are," you yawned. it was getting darker now, maybe 20 minutes had gone by since the rest of your friends had left. "reach for it yourself."

he sighed and grabbed the drink, taking a long sip of whatever he and tucker had concocted while ted, emma, and you worked on dinner. it was quiet for what you thought was almost too long before he spoke.

"are you gonna keep givin' me trouble all night?" it sounded more like a threat than a question. he was still facing the fire, watching the smoke, and you couldn't help but flush at his words.

"i dunno, depends what my prize would be," you teased as you slowly walked two fingers up his back. he shivered and whipped around, grabbing your hand so tight it hurt.

"don't do that, you don't get to pull that cutesy shit after bein' a bitch earlier," he chided down at you. "and i know you'll enjoy hearing what i'd do to you, you stupid whore, so i'm not gonna say anything. but i also know you're just gonna keep pushin' til you find out."

you moaned and bit your lip unknowingly, blinking up at him. he groaned in a mixture of disgust and attraction as he dropped your wrist and turned away.

after minutes of schlatt just tending to the fire, ignoring your increasingly desperate attempts to capture his attention again, you saw a beetle similar to the one he killed earlier crawling on the table an arm's reach from you. a wicked smile spread across your face before you composed yourself and reached down to coax it onto your finger.

quickly and quietly, you guided the little creature onto his shoulder and tapped him, stifling a laugh. he turned, huffing, an annoyed expression adorning his face, and jumped slightly when he saw the bug. for the second time that night, he shrieked, and he swatted frantically at his shoulder blade as you cackled at him.

"you stupid bitch!" he laughed incredulously when he was sure it was gone, turning around fully to tower over you. he put his arms on either side of you and leaned in, breath reeking of whiskey hot on your face as he spat his words at you through gritted teeth. "i'm gonna give you one last warning before i fucking ruin you."

he usually wasn't this patient! you smiled coyly at him and ran your hand across the top of his thigh featherlight, mimicking a skittering spider. his leg twitched and he looked at you, dumbfounded by your blatant desire to piss him off. your smile only got bigger after a moment when he rolled his eyes and smacked you playfully before turning to check the fire was still safe. he didn't know how long he had before your friends got back anymore, and he was going to have to take the risk of being caught if he was to punish you like he wanted.

he gestured for you to get off the table and sat down himself, facing outwards and gesturing for you to kneel between his legs. he looked like a god from this angle, chops framing his face perfectly; the firelight cast a glow on him that just called for you to worship at his feet. you shifted your legs underneath you on the cold ground in an attempt to get some friction at the sight of him undoing his pants and pulling out his cock, but he quickly snapped his fingers and pointed at his crotch before saying, "now. choke on it, doll."

you smiled slightly, shaking your head. unfortunately for you, schlatt was done with your little game. "not fuckin' playin' anymore, you stupid hole, i can be mean if that's what you really want. last chance," he almost pleaded. he was really scared of going too hard with you in the middle of the woods and not being able to get you help if needed.

you stuck your tongue out at him and he grunted, shaking his head as he grabbed you by your hair and shoved your head down his entire length. he used your head like a fleshlight, guiltily reveling in the sloppy noises your lips were making, along with the occasional whimper and moan— and don't get him started on the tears that fell from your eyes as you blinked up at him, those would be something he pictured every time he was by himself for years to come.

"god, toots, i should really plug your mouth up with my cock more often, huh?" schlatt let his head fall back and gripped your hair tighter when he felt you nod with him still in your mouth. he scoffed and peeked at the fire again. "yeah, you love this shit. you lil' whore," he mumbled.

in addition to slamming your mouth up and down on his shaft, he began fucking up into your throat, grunting rhythmically with every thrust after a bit. your throat was incredibly sore, but you were the one that asked for this, so you couldn't complain.

schlatt's groans echoed off the trees, and the nightlife of the forest sang in symphony with him as the dark settled over the campsite. "god, y/n, fuck," he panted, staring up at the universe above him. he wasn't sure if the stars were real or from how good you were making him feel.

but, since all good things must come to an end, schlatt froze when he heard ted's voice coming back from what he thought was a good distance away. "fuck," he muttered. he tried to pull you off but you continued to lick and suck his tip. "fuckin' stop that, y/n! i'm serious, they're almost here," he scolded.

"dude, we already saw! you're the only light source for like several hundred yards! it's cool though, take your time!" tucker called from the rv.

a faint, "dude!" and a smack was heard, followed by laughter. you grinned up at schlatt, who looked mortified, and stood up while he put himself back in his pants.

"come over here with my marshmallows, guys! i was promised s'mores!"

ilyyy thank you for your patience part two should be up sometime in the next few days mwahhhh

[infinibeep]

the fact that home has their own solo for the homewarming harmonies for hearth and home album makes me SO HAPPY !

[luveline]

So your drunk reader and Spencer fic? Maybe one with Hotch but reader has had something important going on and had called Hotch previously over it, but this was just a super sappy drunk call during an important case but Hotch can never not answer if he technically can talk for just a moment?

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

"I just can't understand how he can be two places at once," Derek says, infuriated. 

Hotch has a thousand possibilities racing through his head. "He can't be," he says, "so we have to work out what else is happening."

"It's him," Emily says. "Same clothes, same face. And it can't be an evil twin–" 

JJ groans, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand and leaning forward into the conference table they're all sitting at. "I actually like the evil twin theory for this one." 

Hotch's phone vibrates in his pocket. He needs to focus —he can't focus. You've been so heartbreakingly lonely while all of this has been happening, and he loves you, but they have three missing girls to find. 

Time is ticking downward. He's never going to make any headway if he knows you need him on the other side of the phone.

"Just answer it," Rossi says quietly. "Reid's gonna crack it any second now. You have a duty to more than work, my friend." 

Hotch catches it before it goes off. Standing, he buttons his suit jacket again and makes for the door. When it closes, he talks in a measured tone. "Honey," he says, "are you alright?" 

"I'm okay," you say, immediate and bubbly. 

You sound okay, he thinks. "Did you hear anything else from the doctor?" 

"Aaron," you say, a number of emotions in your tone, but mostly love, "they don't call on Sundays, and they never call after six anyways." 

"It's later for you," he remembers.

"I'm so sick of doctors and worrying and worrying about doctors, now I'm worrying about you, did you have to go? 'Cus I know you had to go, but I wish you could've just stayed home. I have this weird bruise I want you to look at–" 

"Hold on. Nothing's wrong?" 

"You're not here. That is so, so wrong." You hiccup. "Woah." 

Hotch blinks to himself, a smile on his lips for the first time in days. "Sweetheart, have you been drinking?" 

"Just what was left of the wine." 

"You mean the one we got last week? That we haven't opened?" 

"Yes." You sound serious. He can imagine your tipsy face, solemnly nodding with eyes wide open.

"Where are you? Still at my apartment?" 

"Is that okay?" 

Hotch closes his eyes. "That's perfect. I don't have to worry about you as long as I know where you are. You haven't taken any painkillers, of course." 

"I'm not silly." 

"That's up for debate. I… I'm glad you're in a good mood, it's good to relax, but no more wine, okay? You'll make yourself sick, and I won't be there to take care of you in the morning." 

"Don't remind me!" Another hiccup. "I think I should've been a special agent, mister Hotchner, so I could come with you all these places and not have to miss you. I love you. I love your face and your hands and the way you always squeeze my hip in the morning when you wake me up." Your forlorn sigh is clear despite the distance. "Do you love me?" 

"Very much, Y/N." 

"I love you. I really didn't mean to drink so much but it actually tasted nicer the more I did." 

"That's how it goes."

"I try to not be disgusting when we have wine together but you weren't here, 'n' I thought I could get sloshed without feeling bad." 

"Why would you feel bad?" he asks, bemused. 

"'Cus you'd have to take care of me, and you take care of everyone. All the time." 

"I like taking care of people. I love taking care of you. You realise that I'd love to take care of you 'sloshed'?" he asks. He can be very honest here, knowing you probably won't remember the entirety of your conversation, but you'll recall how you felt. Well, if you don't get nauseous. "I love looking after you no matter what's wrong. I'm only sorry I can't do it as much as you deserve." 

"You're sorry? That's dumb." 

"Maybe it is." 

"Definitely it is, Aaron. You're way too handsome to bother being sorry." 

Maybe twenty years ago. "In that case, you can stop saying sorry to me altogether." Hotch pauses as a knock rattles the glass behind him. Derek stands on the other side, pointing at Spencer, whose lips are moving a hundred miles an hour. Their smartest member saves the day again. "Honey, I have to go. I'm sorry. I wish I could be with you, you know that? But I really have to go." 

"This is impressive for us, actually, we had like four whole minutes. Bye, handsome, have a good time at camp." 

He snorts. "Bye." 

Hotch takes a split second to collect himself. Your hurting, your drunkenness, your open love for him and the obvious if slurred affection you speak with, he puts everything away and gets ready to do his job. If he does it well enough, he could be home in time to rub your forehead through the hangover. 

[glearyyyne]

Deja Vu Part 2

Part 1

Synopsis: Meeting you again was great for satoru as he began to sleep more just to meet you it began to be a problem in his real life, he tried to fix this problem but only ended up losing you.

Word Count: 6,025 Words

Warning: Angst, Sleeping pills, insomnia, mention of death, Imaginary friends (?)

Note: It's been a long time since I last posted I was just super duper busy with school and also because I got sick but thankfully I finished part 2 so enjoy!!!

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 "Today's training was so hard, I’m not even exaggerating. What the heck is that strength in those puppets that Yaga-sensei owns?!" Satoru ventured out on you as you listened to him, with your back against the tree while he was laying on your lap as Tomorrow was sleeping soundly and curled up beside Satoru.

"That's why you shouldn't judge them based on their appearance," you told him, as Satoru whined because he expected you to side him up.

As a month passed since you and Satoru met again and he apologized for forgetting the promise, you reassured him that it's fine, though he continued apologizing whenever he got the chance.

You noticed how he appeared at the usual time as it means he started sleeping more just to meet you. 

His daily routine became a rhythm: waking up, showering, eating, school, training, returning home, eating again, and brushing his teeth before heading to bed, just to meet you at the same place on the hill.

One day, you asked him, "Don't you think that the phrase 'you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy' sounds romantic?”

"Why?" Satoru asked, his curiosity piqued by your comment.

You smiled softly, feeling warmth in your chest as you gazed into his eyes. 

"Because it shows the anticipation and joy of waiting for someone you care about. Just like how I eagerly await our time together every day, knowing that seeing you brings happiness to my heart.” You answered.

Satoru's smile widened, and he gently intertwined his hand with yours, his touch sending a comforting warmth through you. 

As he leaned in, he placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand, eliciting a delighted giggle from you.

Satoru's heart raced with anticipation as he leaned closer to you, feeling the moment swell with tenderness. 

Just as he was about to close the distance between you for a kiss, the sound of a table slamming jolted him awake. 

Confusion clouded his senses as he looked around, only to see Shoko and Geto trying to suppress their laughter, while Yaga glared at him with disappointment.

Satoru realized he had fallen asleep in class.

Oh…

"Satoru!" Yaga's voice boomed, filled with disappointment. 

"This is the third time this week you've fallen asleep in my class. Do you think becoming a sorcerer entails sleeping through your studies?" He added.

Satoru's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology. "I'm sorry, Sensei. It won't happen again."

Yaga sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You have potential, Satoru, but you need to apply yourself more. Don't let your laziness overshadow your talent."

Feeling chastised, Satoru nodded solemnly, determined to make amends for his lack of focus.

As the lecture finally came to an end, Satoru, Geto, and Shoko walked out of the classroom together. Satoru couldn't help but groan in frustration as the teasing from his friends began.

Geto chuckled, nudging Satoru playfully. "Looks like someone was having sweet dreams in class, huh?"

Shoko joined in, giggling teasingly. "I wonder who you were dreaming about, Satoru. Maybe a certain someone or a wet dream?"

Satoru rolled his eyes, trying to play it off coolly. "Ha ha, very funny, you two. Let's just focus on getting through the rest of the day without any more embarrassment, okay?”

But geto and shoko shared a look of concern that satoru didn't notice.

"Satoru, you know we're here for you, right?" Shoko's tone softened, her concern evident in her words.

Satoru stopped walking, his expression puzzled as he stared at his friends. "What?" he replied, unsure of what they were getting at.

Geto stepped forward, his voice gentle yet firm. "We're just worried about you, Satoru. You've been distant lately, and falling asleep in class isn't like you. Is everything okay?”

Satoru laughed nervously, trying to brush off their concern. "Come on, guys, no need to overthink things. I'm just tired from all the training."

But Shoko's serious expression stopped him in his tracks. "We're not joking, Satoru. We're genuinely worried about you."

Satoru's laughter faded as he paused, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what could be wrong.

Satoru stayed silent for a moment before finally speaking up, his voice strained. "I'm... fine," he said, his words lacking conviction. Shoko was about to respond when Satoru suddenly quickened his pace, leaving the two of them alone.

Shoko let out a heavy sigh, watching Satoru's retreating figure with concern etched on her face. Geto gently patted her shoulder, offering a comforting gesture. "He's maybe just handling some heir duty, you know?" he suggested.

"Yeah, but it feels unusual to not see the usual goofy Satoru we know," Shoko replied, her worry evident in her voice.

***

Satoru's chest heaved as he slammed the door to his dorm room, exhaustion weighing heavily on him after his impromptu marathon from school. 

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he went to the bathroom, the fatigue evident in every step.

Turning on the faucet, he splashed cool water onto his face, hoping to wash away some of the weariness that clung to him. 

As he looked up into the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, a stark reminder of his recent lack of sleep. 

Satoru sighed, realizing that his sunglasses wouldn't be enough to conceal the evidence of his exhaustion. 

Making a mental note to buy some concealer, he reached into a drawer and retrieved the sleeping pills he had been relying on for the past two weeks.

The weight of his actions hung heavy on him as he stared at the pills in his hand, a silent admission of his desperation to meet you again, even at the expense of his own well-being.

Satoru's gaze lingered on the sleeping pills, his mind filled with conflicting emotions. The memory of Shoko and Geto's concern weighed heavily on him, their worried expressions etched into his thoughts. 

He couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at him, knowing that his actions were causing his friends unnecessary worry.

But then, a different image surfaced in his mind. 

It was you, smiling and waiting for him on the hill, your presence filling him with a warmth and comfort he couldn't find elsewhere. 

The thought of seeing you again, of basking in your company, pushed aside his doubts and fears.

With a heavy heart, Satoru tightened his grip on the pills, his resolve wavering. 

Ultimately, the longing to be with you won out. With a resigned sigh, he opened the bottle and retrieved a single pill, swallowing it down with a gulp of water.

As the pill slid down his throat, Satoru couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. But at that moment, the promise of meeting you again was enough to silence his doubts, if only temporarily.

Satoru moved quickly, stashing the bottle of pills back into the drawer before making his way to the mini-fridge. 

Retrieving a bottle of water, he took a few gulps to help swallow the pill more easily, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

Once he finished drinking, he made his way to his bed, the exhaustion weighing heavily on him. 

As he lay down, he could feel the effects of the pill beginning to take hold, a gentle wave of drowsiness washing over him.

Closing his eyes, Satoru let himself succumb to the embrace of sleep, the promise of meeting you again lingering in his mind as he drifted off into dreams.

***

As Satoru slowly blinked his eyes open, he was met with the sight of you standing at the top of the hill, a warm smile gracing your lips. Tomorrow wagged their tail excitedly, adding to the joyous atmosphere.

Unconsciously, a smile spread across Satoru's face as he made his way toward you. 

Once he reached the top, you enveloped him in a tight hug, filling him with a sense of warmth and comfort.

With a mischievous smirk, Satoru scooped you up in his arms, twirling you around as you held tightly onto his shoulders. 

"Having fun yet?" he teased, reveling in the playful moment as you giggled and protested, urging him to put you down.

Gently, Satoru lowered you back to the ground, his hands tenderly cupping your cheeks as he gazed into your eyes with affection. 

Without a word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender, passionate kiss.

You responded eagerly, the kiss deepening as you lost yourself in the moment. 

But the sound of Tomorrow's whining broke the spell, causing you both to pull away, giggling at the interruption.

"Well, someone's feeling left out," you teased Tomorrow, kneeling to scoop them up into your arms. "Don't worry, Tomorrow, we won't forget about you."

Tomorrow's tail wagged furiously as they licked your face in excitement, their whines quickly turning into joyful barks as they enjoyed the attention. 

While laughing, you carried Tomorrow, feeling grateful for the joy they brought to your moments together.

Satoru smiled warmly at the sight of you and Tomorrow, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. You two always had a way of making him smile, no matter what challenges he faced.

Before long, the three of you settled onto the grass, leaning against the sturdy trees as you engaged in a heartfelt conversation about life. 

Satoru shared his dreams and aspirations with you, opening up about his hopes for the future. 

You listened intently, offering words of encouragement and support, while Tomorrow nestled comfortably between you, their presence a comforting reminder of the bonds you shared.

As the peaceful moment enveloped you, Satoru's words cut through the atmosphere. 

"This moment feels so good, yet I feel scared about what will come next," he confessed, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

Concern etched across your face, “Why?” You asked him.

"I don't know," Satoru replied, his voice heavy with self-doubt. "I don't think I deserve to be here, all happy while ignoring the sins I've committed as a sorcerer."

His words hung in the air, laden with the weight of his conscience. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, offering silent support and understanding as he grappled with his inner demons.

"I promise, we'll navigate through this together, no matter what obstacles come our way," you reassure him, your voice filled with conviction. 

As you caress his hand with your thumb, you convey a sense of comfort and solidarity, silently promising to stand by his side through thick and thin, come what may, whether it be heaven or hell.

Satoru smiled softly at your words, but all good things must come to an end.

Satoru's smile faltered as Tomorrow abruptly woke up from their nap, their ears twitching in alarm as they searched for the source of the disturbance. 

Before anyone could react, Tomorrow bolted away, leaving you and Satoru speechless in their wake.

"Tomorrow!" you shouted, instinctively moving to follow them, but Satoru gently grasped your arm, stopping you in your tracks. 

"Hey, calm down," he urged, his voice steady despite the concern etched on his face.

But you were frantic, your mind racing with worry.

 "I can't calm down," you insisted, your voice trembling with anxiety. 

"It's been a while since Tomorrow acted like this. Something bad will happen, I just know it. That's why they ran away, to try and hide somewhere safe.” You explained. 

Satoru was about to ask you when you managed to slip off of Satoru's grip and chase after Tomorrow, leaving him standing there in confusion, a sense of regret began to gnaw at him. 

He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to follow you or stay behind.

But as he watched you disappear into the distance, a sinking feeling settled in his chest. 

He knew deep down that he would regret not chasing after you at that moment.

Little did he know, that decision marked the beginning of a streak of bad luck that would haunt him in the days to come.

**

The following days unfolded like a nightmare for Satoru. 

With the passing of the Star Plasma Vessel and Geto's horrifying massacre of his hometown, additionally, with Geto being expelled from Jujutsu High, Satoru felt like he was drowning in despair. 

Each passing day seemed to weigh heavier on his soul, and he found himself struggling to cope with the harsh realities unfolding around him.

Unable to bear the crushing weight of the world on his shoulders, Satoru turned to sleeping pills more frequently, desperate to see you, even if only in his dreams. 

At first, he convinced himself that he was fine, that the pills were just a temporary escape from the harshness of reality.

But as time went on, he realized that he had become dependent on them, relying on their numbing effects to shield him from the pain of the world outside. 

And when he was caught, everything came crashing down around him.

Yaga's stern gaze bore into him as he slammed the bottle of sleeping pills onto the table, the harsh sound echoing through the room.

Satoru knelt before him, feeling a wave of shame and guilt wash over him as he realized the extent of his trouble.

Yaga sighed heavily, his hand rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Satoru, I need you to explain to me why you're taking these medications when Shoko never prescribed them for you," he demanded, his tone stern.

Satoru cursed inwardly, cursing himself for leaving the door unlocked while he slept, which gave Shoko the advantage to sneak inside his dorm. 

‘If only I hadn't been so careless,’ he thought bitterly. He knew there was no escaping the truth now; he would be caught sooner or later.

Satoru met Yaga's gaze with a sigh, knowing he had no choice but to come clean.

"I just couldn't sleep at the right time with all of the mess happening these days, that's why I'm taking them," Satoru explained, carefully keeping the part about using the pills to see you.

Yaga sighed, his expression skeptical. "It feels like you're not telling the whole truth," he said, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"I am telling the truth," Satoru insisted, meeting Yaga's gaze with pleading eyes, hoping to convince him of his sincerity. 

Yaga sighed heavily, the weight of the decision evident in his expression. "I have no choice, Satoru, but to have you put on the monitor," he said regretfully. 

"We can't risk you obtaining more sleeping pills without our knowledge. You know how your clan behaves when they suspect something has happened to their heir. It's best to have Shoko come to your room periodically to prevent any conflict between your clan and Jujutsu High." Yaga explained.

Satoru sighed in defeat, knowing there was little he could do to argue against Yaga's reasoning. 

With a nod, he agreed to the arrangement, accepting the consequences of his actions.

Yaga dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and Satoru left the classroom with a heavy heart, walking through the hallway with an annoyed look, feeling the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him.

Satoru was feeling more stressed.

Shoko's heart raced as she watched Satoru emerge from the room, feeling relief and concern. Without hesitation, she hurried over to him, reaching out to grab his wrist and stop him in his tracks.

"What?" Satoru asked, annoyance evident in his tone as he turned abruptly to face her.

"Thank goodness," Shoko began, her words tumbling out in a rush of relief. "I was worried Yaga-sensei might expel you or something because of the pills-"

But before she could finish her sentence, Satoru cut her off, his frustration evident. "Why? Why did you come to my room last night?" he demanded, his voice tinged with irritation.

Caught off guard, Shoko nervously laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. "Well, I was just trying to check up on my friend. Isn't that wrong?" she asked, hoping to deflect his question.

Satoru scoffed at Shoko's response, his frustration bubbling over. "At night? Seriously? You could've come when it was daylight!" he raised his voice, his irritation palpable.

"It's not my fault that I was just worried about you, Satoru!" Shoko shouted back, her voice cracking with emotion. "I'm scared. I'm scared of what's happening to you after what happened to Geto. I-I didn't want to lose you now that Geto's gone," she explained, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"You could've died there, Satoru, if you'd taken more than one pill," Shoko added earnestly, her voice trembling with concern.

But Satoru seemed to dismiss her words, his frustration boiling over. "We wouldn't even be in this situation if you knew your place! This is my business, Ieri, and I don't need you to meddle in it!" he angrily expressed, his tone cutting and harsh.

Shoko flinched at the sudden intensity of his words, taken aback by the venom in his voice. It was the first time she had seen Satoru react with such anger, and it left her feeling shaken and hurt.

As Satoru walked away, leaving Shoko standing there alone, he felt a pang of guilt wash over him. 

He sighed heavily, realizing how his outburst had scared her, someone who had always been there for him. Despite his frustration, he knew he had crossed a line.

Rushing back to his dorm, he slammed the door loudly behind him, the sound echoing through the room. His hands trembled as he ruffled his hair in a disheveled state, his mind consumed by chaotic thoughts.

 The name of the sleeping pill echoed in his mind, tempting him with its false promises of escape.

With a sinking feeling, Satoru slowly began to realize the depths of his addiction to sleeping pills. It was a realization that filled him with both shame and dread, knowing that he was spiraling further into darkness with each passing day.

As Satoru struggled with his addiction to sleeping pills, he found himself haunted by memories of your sweet-drunk smile, a tantalizing allure that he couldn't shake. 

In moments of weakness, his hand would instinctively reach out as if trying to grasp onto your image, only to be met with empty air.

With a heavy sigh, Satoru covered his face with his hands, feeling the weight of his longing pressing down on him. He knew he needed to be patient, to wait for the night to come when he could hopefully find sleep without relying on the pills. 

But the knowledge that the pills had been confiscated only added to his anxiety, leaving him feeling helpless and vulnerable.

**

As Satoru found himself on the familiar hill, he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that hung in the air.

The atmosphere, usually filled with joy and comfort, now seemed to give a gloomy vibe that unsettled him.

Searching for you, Satoru's eyes scanned the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of your familiar figure. 

His heart sank when he spotted you, leaning against the tree with your back turned to him. Tomorrow was nowhere in sight, adding to the anxiety inside him.

With cautious steps, Satoru approached you, a knot of worry forming in his stomach. 

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and he feared what he might discover when he finally reached your side.

Satoru's heart sank as he knelt beside you, his concern growing as he took in the sight of your tear-streaked face. His eyes widened in shock as he noticed the swelling and blood on your cheek, his instincts kicking in as he gently wiped away the blood.

"What happened? Why are you crying? Where is Tomorrow?" Satoru's questions tumbled out in a rush, his mind racing with worry.

But as you slowly revealed what you were hiding, he was speechless. 

Satoru stared in disbelief as you slowly revealed Tomorrow's unconscious body, blood staining its fur. His breath caught in his throat as the truth sank in.

Tomorrow was dead.

As you gently placed Tomorrow's lifeless body on the ground and placed your hand on Satoru's shoulder, he tried to process the devastating turn of events. But his thoughts were interrupted by your words, leaving him in disbelief.

"Satoru, listen to me, okay?" you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know it's been fun to meet you here but promise me you'll stop coming here from now on."

The words hit Satoru like a knife, leaving him in shock. "Stop coming? No, no, you don't understand," he protested, desperation creeping into his voice. "You told me we could overcome this!"

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to explain. 

"I'm... I'm sorry. I can't fulfill that promise to overcome this, not when Tomorrow's gone," you sobbed, your grief overwhelming.

"No, we- we can find some way-" Before Satoru could finish, you spoke again, your words cutting through the air like a knife. 

"No! You don't understand, Satoru! I'm nothing more than just your imagination! That's why your maids or your family can't see me back then! You... you just can't accept that I'm not real!" Your voice cracked with anguish, delivering a cold truth that left Satoru speechless.

"I... I can't stop because this is my only escape from the world that's turned its back against me," Satoru slowly explained, his voice choked with emotion as tears streamed down his face.

You reached out, gently removing his sunglasses, revealing his shining blue eyes brimming with tears of pain. Your heart ached at the sight, knowing the depth of his suffering.

"I know it's hard, but... Satoru, you need to let me go, please," you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. Despite the pain it caused you, you knew it was the only way for him to not hide away from reality.

Satoru's heart pounded in his chest as he shook his head, refusing to accept what you were saying. But you insisted, your voice filled with sorrow and resignation as you apologized for what you were about to do.

"I'm sorry for what I will do to you Satoru," you told him.

Before Satoru could protest, you pushed him with unexpected force. 

His eyes widened in shock as he stumbled backward, expecting to feel the grass beneath him. But instead, he was engulfed by darkness, falling into a black hole that seemed to swallow him whole.

Desperate to call out to you, Satoru opened his mouth to scream your name, but no sound came out. 

It was as if his voice had been stolen again, leaving him trapped in a silent void of despair.

**

Satoru's heart raced as he woke up abruptly, disoriented and gasping for breath. Panic surged through him as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar white ceiling above him.

"Oh god, you're finally awake," a voice exclaimed, and Satoru quickly turned to see Shoko standing beside him.

"Why am I here?" Satoru asked, his voice trembling with confusion as he attempted to sit up, but Shoko gently stopped him.

"Stop moving, you've been in a coma for like 3 days," Shoko explained, her voice tinged with concern.

Satoru's eyes widened in shock at the revelation, his mind struggling to comprehend what had happened during those lost days of unconsciousness.

As Satoru processed Shoko's words, flashes of memories flooded his mind, each one more painful than the last. 

He remembered the broken look on your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks as you pleaded with him to stop coming back, to let you go.

The image of you holding Tomorrow's lifeless body, your grief-stricken expression etched into his memory, haunted him. 

He felt a heavy weight settle in his chest as he stared at his hands, grappling with the realization that maybe he had caused you so much pain.

What has gone wrong?

Shoko observed how lost Satoru seemed in his thoughts, his expression clouded with confusion. With a sigh, she gently drew his attention back to the present.

"I think you were consuming too many of the pills," Shoko stated, her tone laced with concern. 

"It's left you malnourished. I never thought I'd see a day when you'd be malnourished... Were you not eating enough food after school?"

Satoru blinked, surprised by her observation. "I do eat," he replied, his voice tinged with defensiveness. 

"I just feel really sleepy after class, so I head to bed early." Despite his explanation, he couldn't shake the unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Shoko eyed Satoru suspiciously, her intuition telling her that there was more to the story. 

"But you still managed to fall asleep in Sensei's class, even though you got enough sleep after class?" she pressed her tone firm.

Caught off guard, Satoru choked on his saliva, feeling caught once again. 

"Sensei's class is boring!" he blurted out, attempting to defend himself with a weak excuse. 

But even as the words left his mouth, he knew that Shoko saw right through his feeble attempt to deflect the conversation.

She only sighed and continued to discuss his condition and the need for him to stay in the infirmary room for the time being, Satoru listened attentively, though his mind was elsewhere. 

His thoughts were consumed by you, by the desperate need to find a way to fix what had gone wrong between you two.

Even as Shoko left the room to give him some rest, Satoru couldn't shake the weight of his guilt and the ache of his longing for you.

He glanced down at his arm, confirming what Shoko said that he was indeed malnourished. 

He knew he should be eating, but the thought of food left him feeling nauseous, his appetite suppressed by his overwhelming emotions.

Closing his eyes, Satoru tried to sleep, hoping to find solace in the dream where he could see you again and make things right. But in his dream…

He never saw you at the top of the hill.

**

Satoru groggily muttered, "Fuck, what day is it?" as he rubbed his tired eyes. 

It had been a week since he started isolating himself in the infirmary room. 

Unable to accept the reality that every time he slept, he couldn't meet you, instead finding himself trapped in a dark void that haunted him, he struggled to find rest, battling with insomnia.

Whenever Shoko tried to check up on him, he would turn his infinity on, shutting himself off from the outside world.

He couldn't bear the thought of anyone touching him, not when he couldn't distinguish between reality and the fading memory of you.

Satoru's head swiveled softly towards the door at the sound of the knock, but he remained silent, refusing to acknowledge Yaga's presence.

"Satoru, I heard what happened. I placed some food by the door so you can open up and eat," Yaga's voice filtered through the door, a note of concern evident in his tone.

"I know it's hard, but please let Shoko check up on you. We need to find the problem you're facing right now."

But Satoru shook his head, his hand instinctively covering his ear, blocking out Yaga's words. He had no desire to hear from him anymore.

Anxiety rushed through Satoru, overwhelming him as he felt desperate to see you again. 

His thoughts raced, his heart pounding with the need to escape the suffocating darkness that surrounded him.

In a moment of desperation, he remembered the stash of sleeping pills hidden away in one of the drawers in the infirmary room. 

Without hesitation, he got out of bed, his movements frantic as he searched through every drawer, his hands trembling with anticipation.

Each drawer he opened revealed nothing but disappointment, sending a surge of frustration coursing through him. 

As Satoru frantically searched through the drawers, his agitation growing with each empty one he encountered, he muttered under his breath, "Where is it?"

His voice was tinged with desperation, his hands shaking as he rifled through the contents, his heart pounding with the need to find the sleeping pills.

As Satoru's hands finally closed around the container of sleeping pills, a sense of relief washed over him. 

Without hesitation, he opened the container and tipped the remaining pills into his hand. 

He knew he should only take one, but the overwhelming desperation to see you again clouded his judgment.

In a reckless act, he swallowed all the pills in one swift motion, ignoring the warning signs flashing in his mind.

The room spun around him, his vision growing dizzy as he collapsed to the ground, the effects of the pills taking hold with frightening speed.

**

Satoru woke up to find himself lying on the grass in an endless field, he stood up to dust off the dirt on his clothes before he proceeded to shout.

Satoru's voice echoed across the endless field as he shouted you and Tomorrow's name, his desperation showed in every word. "I'm sorry, please! Don't just push me away like that!" he pleaded, his voice tinged with anguish.

Before he could continue shouting, a magical sound filled the air, causing him to turn around. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a glowing figure standing before him, eerily identical to you.

"[Reader's Name]?" Satoru whispered, his voice barely above a breath. But before he could reach out to touch you, the glowing figure turned and ran, disappearing into the distance.

Driven by an overwhelming sense of longing, Satoru chased after the figure, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched desperately for a way to reach that glowing person.

As Satoru continued to chase the glowing figure across the endless field, time seemed to blur together, the passage of hours unnoticed in his desperate chase. 

It was only when he felt the sun beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the landscape, that he realized how much time had passed.

Finally, the glowing figure slowed to a stop, and Satoru halted as well, his chest heaving with exertion. "Is that you?" he gasped out, his voice barely a whisper as he stared at the radiant form before him.

But no matter how much he strained to see, the figure's face remained obscured by the intense light, leaving Satoru with more questions than answers. 

The frustration and longing welled up inside him, an ache in his heart that seemed impossible to soothe.

The glowing figure approached Satoru, their touch gentle as they caressed his cheek, a bittersweet warmth emanating from their hand. As they spoke, their words pierced through Satoru's heart like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of undeniable truth.

"They're gone. They're just your imagination," the figure said softly, their voice echoing in the empty expanse of the field. "You need to let them go."

Tears threatened to spill from Satoru's eyes as he shook his head in denial. "No, no, it can't be," he protested, his voice trembling with anguish.

"They were created by your mind when you were a child, desperate for friends," the glowing figure continued, their tone filled with compassion. "Now that you're growing into adulthood, your mind is beginning to reject them, to erase them. But your heart clings to them, unwilling to let go. Please, forget them, or it will only hurt them more."

Satoru's heart felt heavy with grief as he grappled with the painful realization that you and Tomorrow may have only ever existed within the confines of his imagination. But even as he struggled to accept the truth, a part of him resisted, unwilling to relinquish the memories and the love he held for you both.

As the truth sank in, Satoru's heart clenched with sorrow, understanding now why Tomorrow had run away. 

Their instincts had sensed the impending rejection by his mind, prompting them to seek refuge in hiding.

"Will I ever meet them?" Satoru asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and resignation as he gazed at the glowing figure before him, though he already knew the answer.

"Unfortunately, I don't have the right to tell you that," the figure replied, their voice filled with a gentle sadness. "I only came here to see your determination to [reader's name]."

Satoru's heart sank at the confirmation of what he had feared. 

"They're in a better place for them now, don't worry," the glowing figure reassured Satoru, their words offering a glimmer of solace amid his anguish.

Satoru's lips curled into a soft smile at the thought of you and Tomorrow finding peace, but it was quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming flood of tears that spilled from his eyes. With a heavy heart, he sank to his knees, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a crashing wave.

As he cried out in anguish, consumed by the pain of loss, he didn't even notice how the glowing figure slowly began to fade away, their presence fading into the darkness of the night. 

Alone in the dim light of the setting sun, Satoru whispered his apologies into the empty expanse of the field, his words lost to the vastness of the night sky.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry [reader's name]," he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, unspoken sorrow that echoed into the darkness.

I’ll never forget you [reader’s name]...

I’ll never ever forget you, I promise…

I’ll never… who am I not supposed to forget?

Satoru's head snapped up, a surge of panic coursing through him as he struggled to recall the name of the person he shouldn't be forgetting. 

"No—no, who— who was it?!" he exclaimed frantically, his mind racing in a desperate attempt to grasp onto the fading memory.

With trembling hands, he opened his palm and used his finger as an imaginary pen, trying to spell out the name of that person. 

But try as he might, all he could manage was to draw a line, his efforts futile as the name slipped further and further from his grasp.

Tears stung his eyes once more as the weight of his forgetfulness settled upon him, a crushing reminder of the fragments of his reality slipping away. In that moment of vulnerability, he felt utterly lost.

Satoru cried out in pain as his head throbbed, feeling like it might explode. He tried to stand up but stumbled and fell again. 

Everything spun around him, and he couldn't find his balance. Before he knew it, he was falling into the darkness once more, feeling helpless and scared he screamed, but his voice disappeared into the black hole. 

He felt like he was disappearing too, lost in the darkness and unable to find his way back.

***

"Satoru!" The voice called out urgently, pulling Satoru from the depths of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry as he struggled to make out the figures hovering over him.

As his surroundings slowly came into focus, Satoru realized he was lying in an infirmary bed. Shoko and Yaga stood beside him, their expressions a mix of concern and relief.

"Satoru, thank goodness you're awake," Shoko exclaimed, her voice filled with worry. "We were so worried about you. You almost didn't make it. You overdosed on the sleeping pills, but thankfully, you survived."

Yaga nodded solemnly, his brow furrowed with concern. "You gave us quite a scare, Satoru," he added, his voice tinged with relief that Satoru had pulled through.

Satoru's heart clenched with guilt as he listened to their words, the realization of how close he had come to losing everything hitting him like a punch to the gut. 

“I’m sorry” Satoru's voice trembled as he muttered a heartfelt apology, tears welling up in his eyes once more. 

Shoko and Yaga moved closer to him, offering words of comfort and reassurance, their presence a source of solace in his moment of vulnerability.

Throughout the day, they spoke to him, their words a steady stream of support and encouragement. 

But despite their efforts to console him, Satoru's mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of the person he had been trying so desperately to remember.

Who are you?

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <;3]

All he can think about when he closes his eyes is the phantom memory of your smile from that night in the early spring five years ago, and how it looks just like Kota's.

Megumi tries to let it rest.

Tries not to think about it.

But he can't. Not as more and more memories come back to him from that night—at least, he thinks they're memories. But that's just it, what little bits do flood back are fuzzy and indistinct, and whenever he thinks they're getting clearer he begins to doubt their accuracy. Begins to question whether they're memories, or just something he's made up.

But he really does swear he can remember.

He sent the old man home in a taxi after another round of sake, helping him slump into the backseat of the cab and then giving the driver his address. As the car pulled off into the distance, Megumi breathed a sigh of relief.

He was his wife's problem now, and while he knew he ought to feel at least a little bit bad about that, she was the one who married him.

He shuffled back into the izakaya. Back to the same table he'd just vacated to see his boss off.

He wasn't in his seat for a minute before you approached him again.

"Heading out for the night?" you asked him, still smiling like you were earlier in the evening.

Megumi shook his head no, and you seemed a little surprised. He ordered another beer and you brought it to him quickly. He ordered another before that one was even fully drained.

"You seem to be drinking an awful lot for someone who's celebrating," you remarked as you came to collect his second empty glass, replacing it with another full one.

Megumi shrugged indifferently. "Can't people drink to celebrate?"

You laughed a little, then—though it wasn't really like you found anything funny, more so like you were a bit surprised he finally decided to speak to you beyond placing an order.

"Sure they can," you nodded, "but generally they aren't alone, and they don't look so..."

Megumi shot you a pointed look.

"...glum."

The man at the table picked up his glass and took a long swig.

"The old man was getting ahead of himself," he muttered after he swallowed, the burn of carbonation making his eyes water a bit. "I haven't agreed to take over the business."

You looked surprised at that admission.

"Aren't you gonna?" you asked, tucking your serving tray against your hip a quirking a brow.

He looked at you then, a stranger. A girl he'd quite literally never laid his eyes in his life before that day. And maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was the stress of the situation, or maybe it was how unexpectedly kind you looked. But before he knew it, he'd gotten you up to date with his current predicament, and you were sitting across the table from him with a beer of your own.

"Wow," you said, nodding solemnly. "That's a lot."

And Megumi nodded too, because he agreed.

"Fushiguro-san, can I be honest with you?" you asked him next, a pensive little furrow appearing between your brows as your head tilted to the side. It was sort of cute, Megumi thought then, like a puppy. He had an unwelcome inclination to reach out and smooth the crease with the pad of his thumb.

He took another sip of his beer and nodded.

"I think you're being kind of silly."

He choked on his drink.

You hid your giggles behind your palm (poorly) as the man across the table from you gasped for breath, taken aback by your unexpectedly harsh remark.

"Sorry, sorry," you said between badly-stifled laughter, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" he rasped, once he finally got through his fit.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Your shift was over now, but you still had your apron on, the little knot of the ties appearing as you angled yourself back in your seat. The way you had it tied made the curve of your waist more noticeable, and Megumi forced his eyes away so that they wouldn't linger.

"I just think that you can't see the forest for the trees," you went on to explain. "You tell me that you're worried about the responsibility of taking over the business, that you're unsure if you're able to do it, but... aren't you already?"

Megumi's lips pursed.

"I just think you're letting the opportunity of a lifetime, the kind of situation that so many people would kill for, pass you by. How much more qualified could you be for this? You already work there every day." You smiled at him, that same wide smile that you'd been sharing with him all night. The one that made his stomach pang in a strange way. It was a little tipsier than it had been earlier, because you'd had your fair share to drink too, but it was just a bright as ever.

Megumi hummed. You might have been right about that.

"I'd kill for something like that land in my lap," you sighed, a little rueful. "I'm gonna be joining the rat race once I finish college, fighting for the same terrible jobs as all my classmates in the corporate world."

"What are you studying?" Megumi asked you, watching as you took another sip of your drink.

"Economics," you said with a sheepish smile.

"Really?" Megumi was surprised.

You laughed at his expression. "What, I don't seem like the finance type?"

Megumi felt his nose scrunch up a little as he mulled over his reply—a tell-tale sign he was about to lie, as Yuuji and Nobara had once pointed out to him.

"Actually, I don't wanna know the answer to that!" you cut him off before he could answer, giggling a little to yourself. "I'm looking forward to it though. I can't wait to get a real job. Make real money."

"Pay real bills," Megumi supplied dryly.

"That too," you quipped back with a smile, and he snorted at your flippant attitude.

It went quiet then, just two strangers on either side of a table they weren't meant to share in the first place. Your eyes dipped low, and you played with your fingers to avoid his gaze—which for some reason he couldn't seem to direct anywhere else.

"What about you, Fushiguro-san?" you asked him softly, peeking up at him through your lashes.

He made a little sound of confusion waiting for you to elaborate.

"Are you looking forward to something?"

Megumi wet his lips with his tongue, his eyes still trained on you.

"Yeah," he replied breathlessly, his head spinning from the beer and from the way his heart had suddenly begun to pound inside his chest. "I think I am."

He doesn't remember what happened next, at least not in any great detail. But he certainly has his suspicions.

Suspicions he's fairly certain he can support with evidence.

Namely, a little boy called Kota.

But still, this could all just as likely be a misunderstanding. A contrivance that he's crafted in his mind without reason. He tells himself every day that he should just let it go, just forget about it.

Just move on.

But every time he checks on the little baby bunny in its cage at the clinic, growing stronger every day, he can't help but think about the little boy who brought it to him on that rainy night.

And a week after that terrible storm, Megumi pulls on his coat, locks up the clinic for the night, and heads to the nearby izakaya.

[cuubism]

Hurt/Comfort -- there are so many dumb human hurts, that always surprise.

First time Retired!Morpheus has a silly human ouch -- burned tongue from drinking too hot tea, stubbed toe on his favorite chair, misjudged a distance and bumping, hard enough to bruise, into a pointy household surface, sweats from spicy food.

Hob's sympathetic giggles.

I made it a BIT more sad 😔 ok maybe a lot more sad

--

Hob had expected, given he was used to being a king and all, for Dream to be more prissy about the small indignities of human life. How dare the rain wet my hair, Hob, he'd expected. This railing gave me a splinter, you must kiss it better.

In reality, Dream has borne it all with a stoic, grave acceptance. Like one receiving a doctor's solemn pronouncement: yes, you will live, but. Each tiny injury, each failure, each confusion and moment of tripping and falling, he simply straightens his regal shoulders, thins his lips to a hard line. Simply accepts it grimly. Sometimes, Hob will catch him staring off into the distance for a moment, the way he used to do when he was searching for information among the minds of his dreamers, to know if what he is feeling is serious. Then he'll blink hard, and look down as he realizes it's no longer accessible to him.

Hob doesn't know what to do to help him in those moments. He can't fix it for him. He just rubs the back of his neck and kisses his temple, and that seems to soothe him somewhat.

Mostly, Hob just tries to reassure him that whatever he's feeling is normal. Ordinary human indignities, small aches and pains. Nothing to worry about, love.

So Dream's reaction to these things is unexpected--Hob had really expected more complaining--but ultimately doesn't trouble him too much.

Until he comes home one day to find Dream slumped under the covers in their bed, face mushed in the pillow, staring blankly at the wall.

It's not unusual to find Dream asleep. He seems to need a lot of it, ironically. But he's not sleeping, now, just kind of... still.

Hob crouches by the bed in his line of sight. "Hey, love. Everything alright?"

"I do not feel well," Dream says, with his characteristic seriousness around these matters. He sounds hoarse. His eyes look bleary, like he's been sniffling and rubbing at them. Hob lays the back of his hand on his forehead. He feels a bit warm, nothing too terrible.

"Just a cold, I expect," he says, and tries to offer a comforting smile, even as he hurts to see Dream looking so despondent. "Feels gross, but I think you'll live."

"I know," Dream says solemnly. Resignedly. As if he cannot imagine a worse fate in this moment but will stoically bear it as he has all things.

"Sit up for me for a sec." Dream groans as Hob lifts him up to lean against the headboard. "I know, but it'll help your sinuses clear. And I'll make you some tea, for your throat."

When Hob comes back with the tea, Dream is sitting exactly as he left him, head tipped back against the headboard and looking utterly miserable.

Hob passes him his tea and, while Dream sips it, goes to pet his hair, but Dream subtly shifts his head away. Must be feeling too tender even to want to be touched, then. Poor thing.

When Dream's finished his tea, Hob fetches some vaporub from the bathroom and perches by Dream on the edge of the bed. "Think you can cope with being touched just for a minute or two?"

A look of regret flashes briefly across Dream's face. "Hob..."

"Shh, it's alright. I just want to put some of this on your chest, that's all."

Dream undoes the tie on his silk robe and lets it fall open over his chest. "What is it?"

"Like a salve to help your congestion." He rubs some in over Dream's sternum, careful not to press too hard when he's feeling fragile while still rubbing it in well enough that it won't feel sticky on his skin, then massages some into his neck, fingers light on his vulnerable throat.

Dream wrinkles his nose. "The scent is strong."

Hob laughs. "I know, that's the point."

"It is not wholly unpleasant, though," Dream concedes. He looks down at Hob from under his lashes, and for a moment he does look regal again, and Hob his humble servant. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, my dear heart. If you want a cuddle you can let me know, but it seemed rather like you didn't want to be touched."

"My skin feels like glass," Dream says, chagrined.

"I Know. Promise it'll all clear up in a few days and won't hurt so much anymore."

"Won't hurt anymore," Dream echoes, brow pinched. "Is not this human fate constant maladies and pain?"

It could be one of Dream's rare dry jokes but something about the way he says it makes Hob's brain ping in alarm. "Well," he says, trying to laugh it off, "sure, it's a parade of minor torments, but no, it's not all pain, it'll pass."

Dream looks down at his hands. "I see."

A terrible suspicion starts gnawing in Hob's chest. "Dream, how much pain are you in? Not right now with the cold, I mean usually."

Dream tilts his head in thought. "Upon what metric is the scale?"

That's not, 'none, Hob, why are you asking?'

"Um," Hob says, in growing concern, "between none and the worst physical pain you've ever felt, I guess?"

Strangely, this makes Dream relax. "I have experienced far worse," he says. "Human life pales in comparison to the agony of fighting the Morningstar, to name but one example." When Hob keeps staring at him, horrified, because "it's not as bad as when I was nearly killed in Hell" is no comfort at all, Dream concludes, "This is normal, then." He seems satisfied by that, if not happy. Resigned, in a way, to what he feels he must cope with, now that he understands what it is. Dream is altogether too good at coping. "I had thought as much but had not the frame of reference to confirm."

"No!"

Dream flinches at the sudden outburst, and Hob regrets raising his voice. He lays his hands on Dream's blanket-adorned thighs, softens his tone. "No, Dream, it's not normal to be in pain all the time."

"...Oh." Dream's face falls, confusion overtaking the calm acceptance that had preceded it. Hob bites back a 'why didn't you tell me!' because the answer is obvious. He thought it was normal.

"Where are you in pain?" he asks instead, steadying his voice. "Normally, I mean?"

Maybe he just means that he's been getting a bit stiff like any other person in their thirties--fabricated though those 'thirties' might be. Maybe Hob just needs to get him into yoga.

"My joints," Dream says, lightly touching his wrist as an example. "My head hurts. Constantly. And I am very tired."

"Okay, no, love, that's not normal," Hob says. He doesn't know how he didn't notice. Then again, he hadn't noticed the first time Dream was suffering. Or at least, he'd noticed, but he hadn't grasped the depth of it until it was nearly too late. Damn Dream's self-sufficiency.

"I am dying, then," Dream declares, with finality.

"You're not dying. You can't die, remember?" Not unless you choose it, the back of his mind whispers. A new fear that lingers constantly, always chewing on him. "But you shouldn't have to just suffer either without us trying to do something about it. I'm sorry I didn't notice."

"It's of no consequence," Dream says, contemplative now, perhaps thinking through the concept of not having to suffer wordlessly. God, this creature.

"There is something you can do to fix it, then?" Dream asks then, hopeful.

Hob would give anything to be able to just solve all of his problems. "I don't know what yet, but I'm sure we can do something more than literally nothing at all."

Dream cracks a small smile, and tips toward him, like he'd really like to lean on Hob's shoulder but is being prevented by the fact that he currently feels made of glass. Poor thing.

"You should rest more," Hob says. "Will help the cold clear up quicker. I'll get you more pillows."

When he's gotten Dream propped up against what feels like all the pillows in the house, he sits beside him in bed, laptop open. It's only seven p.m., and he's still got marking to do, but hopefully Dream won't mind the company.

Lying on his side again, Dream watches him as he types, gaze piercing and solemn. "You need something else?" Hob asks.

"Conceptually, I would like a hug," Dream says gravely. "But I am aware it would not feel pleasant at the moment."

"Poor darling. How about this." Hob takes off his sweatshirt and drapes it over Dream's shoulders.

Dream pulls it close and tucks his nose into the collar. "Thank you."

"You want the TV on?"

Hob only even has a TV in the bedroom because of Dream. Dream never spends any time actually watching TV, but the background noise of the stories seems to soothe him and lull him to sleep. Hob wonders if it reminds him of the background noise of the Dreaming.

Dream nods, so Hob turns it on low, paying no real attention to what's even playing. Whatever it is, it quickly puts Dream to sleep.

Hob looks down at him. He looks peaceful now, all that seriousness melted away from his expression. Hob should probably have known that he would approach human life with the gravity with which he approached all else.

He lays a light hand on Dream's dear forehead again--still no fever--and then ghosts it over his hair. Dream is so much more resilient than he gives himself credit for. So much more resilient than he should have to be.

Hob tucks the blankets in tighter around him, and lets him sleep.

[blue-slxt]

It Was Supposed To Be Us - Chapter 5

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: We have reached the end of our story! Thank you to everybody that's interacted with this series. Every like, comment, and reblog mean so much to me. I hope you guys enjoy this finale. I'm not great at writing action scenes so forgive me if it's a little mid. All characters are aged up.

Previous Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of DV, PTSD, Anxiety, Violence, Blood, Smut, P in V, Fingering, Loss of Virginity, Creampie, I think that's it

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Neteyam takes care of Ralu.

Sleep seems to elude Neteyam for the night. Every time he closes his eyes, he’s haunted by visions of your beaten face and body. It’s devastating. His stomach twists with nausea and guilt. He tosses and turns trying to get comfortable, but it’s useless. Before long, the sun starts to rise. Neteyam knows his father will be up soon. He’s going to need his support if he was going to pull this off without actually killing Ralu. And, as tempting as that idea sounds in his head, he knows it’s not the smart thing to do. Neteyam sits outside of his family’s home sharpening his knife and waiting for his dad. And almost on cue, Jake appears from inside.

“Neteyam, you’re up early” he says a bit taken aback.

“Couldn’t really sleep” he says continuing his work on his weapon.

Jake lets out a big exhale sitting next to Neteyam on the ground, “Talk to me, boy. Tell me what’s going on.” Jake still wasn’t clear on the details of what all was going on. When he took Neteyam away yesterday, he didn’t speak much on why he did what he did. Jake knows his son well enough to know that he wouldn’t snap like that on somebody for no good reason, but he couldn’t help if he didn’t know the entire situation.

Neteyam drops his knife and uses two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose while he comes to grips with everything. “He is not a good man.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that yesterday, but what you haven’t said is what makes you feel that way.”

“He…he hurt her, dad…” his words trail off as he finds himself needing to literally bite his tongue to keep the tears at bay. “You should have seen what he did to her…”, one tear slips.

Jake nods solemnly understanding the situation now. “Is she okay? Is she safe right now?”

“Grandmother and Kiri are keeping her in the healing tent.” His jaw clenches in frustration, “I should have been there. A man is supposed to protect his own and I failed.”

“Do not blame yourself. You couldn’t have known this would happen. And son…she isn’t yours.” Jake doesn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it probably comes across.

Neteyam looks his father in the eye, “She is in every way that matters.”

In this moment, Jake doesn’t see just his son, he sees a man doing his best to defend what is precious to him.

“Alright, so what do you want to do?”

…

Neteyam propped himself against a tree deep in the woods while he waited to carry out his plan. Even just with the waiting, he can feel how his blood is beginning to boil. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous. But he wasn’t nervous about his plan failing. He was more worried about controlling his own wrath. As far as Neteyam was concerned, Ralu deserved whatever fate befell him, but his father discouraged him from being the one to deliver that fate. “Let Eywa handle that part.”

Neteyam hears footsteps coming his direction. It was time. He remains in his spot against the tree and watches the figures in the distance grow closer. Jake was leading Ralu to Neteyam. Jake had convinced him that he wanted to apologize for his son and get his side of the story. Jake didn’t truly care for whatever excuse or lie Ralu tried to come up with for what happened to you. Before he agreed to help with this, he had already gone to speak with Mo’at about your condition. He didn’t actually see you out of respect for your privacy and dignity, but Mo’at gave him a very clear picture of your condition. And she confirmed that however you were injured, it definitely was not from “falling in the woods” as you had described to her. He had heard all he needed to.

Once Jake and Ralu reached the clearing, Ralu locked eyes with Neteyam and stopped dead in his tracks. He looks between the two Sully men and suddenly realizes that he’s trapped. He weighs his options on if he should stay or leave. But his own ego and anger cloud his better judgement as he decides to stay and stand his ground.

“Okay, I see what this is” his arrogance is obvious in his tone.

Jake and Neteyam exchange a glance and Jake gives his son a small nod before he walks into the woods a bit. He’s close enough to come running in case anything goes wrong, but his main purpose for standing there was in case Ralu attempted to run.

“Let me guess, this is about your little girlfriend, isn’t it?” Neteyam takes one step towards him, “Don’t you dare even talk about her. Be grateful I even left you a tongue to speak with.”

Ralu smirks at him, a smug display of his amusement. “You may be the son of toruk makto, but you need to learn to keep your hands off other people’s things. That bitch had it coming.” Neteyam had heard enough and lunges for Ralu knocking him over. Ralu kicks Neteyam off and attempts to take a swing at him, but he dodges. Neteyam takes a swipe at Ralu with his knife and manages to make a shallow cut on his outstretched arm. He pulls his arm back to look at the cut.

“That the best you can do?” he taunts.

Neteyam is unphased, “Says the only one bleeding.”

Ralu launches himself at Neteyam and manages to get him into a hold that Neteyam can’t quite maneuver out of. Instead, he flips around the knife still in his hand and cuts across Ralu’s abdomen. It’s not deep enough to cause any serious damage, but it is enough to make him release his hold. This makes him retreat from Neteyam in pain and give him an opening. Neteyam snakes around staying close to the ground and grabs Ralu from behind and wrestles him down to the ground. His legs lock and hold Ralu’s while his arms have him in a headlock and his knife is alarmingly close to his throat.

Ralu struggles against Neteyam’s hold, but with no success. The threat of Neteyam’s knife pressing into his skin makes him finally go still.

“You will never come near her again, do you understand?” Neteyam hisses in his hear. “She is not yours and she will never be yours. And if I ever, ever see you even so much as look at her the wrong way, I will personally see to it that you suffer an excruciating end.”

Ralu scoffs. He doesn’t think Neteyam actually has it in him to follow through on his threat. Neteyam is seeing red as he flips the knife in his hand and jams it through Ralu’s shoulder. He screams out in pain and writhes in Neteyam’s hold. He pulls it out and presses the very tip of his knife into the skin on Ralu’s throat coaxing out a single dribble of blood. “Answer me!” Neteyam was fully prepared to do away with this man for good and deal with whatever fallout came after.

“Neteyam!” Jake calls out to him. When he turns to look at his father, he has a stern look on his face urging him to do the smart thing.

Ralu knows he can’t actually beat Neteyam and he’s ready to end this whole ordeal finding you not to be worth all the trouble. He begrudgingly agrees with a nod of his head.

Once Neteyam is satisfied, he sets him free and watches as he gathers himself to leave. “And do not go to the Tsahik for your injuries. She will not help you.” Neteyam calls out after him.

He falls to the ground catching his breath when Jake comes over to him. He had quickly looked over Ralu as he left and, from what he could see, Neteyam had done what he needed to. He checks in on his son, “You did good, son.”

Neteyam offers his father a small smile and a nod, “Thank you, sir.”

…

“You don’t think anything has happened to him, do you?”

“I already told you, I don’t even know what’s going on. But this is my brother we’re talking about. I’m sure he’s fine. Now, hold still while I check your eye” Kiri tells you while looking over your face. You had been borderline pestering her all day about Neteyam and whatever he was planning to do. Your anxiety had ramped up as the hours dragged on. He had asked you to wait for him inside the tent and you did, but you couldn’t help the worry that still plagued your mind. How long were you meant to wait? Kiri did her best to reassure you, but she didn’t know exactly what was happening either. She had minimal information as she had only partially overheard the conversation between her father and Mo’at. She didn’t know what her brother had planned to do about Ralu, but she trusted that if their dad was with him, he wouldn’t go off the deep end.

She continues inspecting your wounds from the other day and is pleased to see the swelling around your eye going down slowly, but surely. And your body no longer felt like the fire of a hundred suns. It was now more of a dull ache. You still weren’t in ideal condition, but it was leaps and bounds from how you first walked in.

“Thank you, Kiri. For letting me stay here for the night and taking care of me.” You were truly, deeply thankful that she gave you a safe place to recover. Even going so far as to physically stand in the way of danger to make sure you stayed safe.

She grabs ahold of your hands and squeezes them tight. “Mated or not, you are family. We take care of each other.”

You can feel yourself getting choked up so you try to change the subject, “So, how do I look?”

She follows your lead, “Much better than yesterday. I’d say it’ll take another day for the swelling to go completely down, but it’ll still be bruised for roughly another week.” She lets your hair fall back in front of your face. You preferred to keep your eye covered while it heals.

Immediately after, Jake and Neteyam come into the healing tent and Jake bends down to give you a once over. “How are you feeling, baby girl?” “Oh, I’m much better today. Thank you. Kiri has been taking really good care of me. I owe her a lot.”

“Don’t be silly. You never owe me.” She says standing up.

“Is she okay enough to go for a walk?” Neteyam asks her.

“Yes, just take it easy okay? Your wounds physically look better, but don’t push yourself if it still hurts.” Kiri answers from across the tent.

Neteyam holds his hand out to you and you take it. He leads you out of the tent and your eyes subconsciously dart around the area around you. Neteyam can feel your unease and notices the curl of your tail. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, “It’s okay. I promise.”

You swallow hard following his lead. You let him lead you through the forest and he helps lift you over large branches in your path that you would normally be able to hop over with ease.

“Neteyam where are you taking me?”

“Oh, like you can’t guess?”

You playfully roll your eyes at him. Of course, he’s taking you to your spot.

It seemed like it had been forever since the two of you came here together like this. Out in the open in broad daylight. No worries about sneaking out under the cover of night.

Neteyam leads you into the center of the clearing and helps you to sit while he kneels in front of you.

“Any particular reason you lead me all the way out here?” you ask genuinely curious. It’s not that you didn’t love being here or being here with him, but why right now?

“Actually, there is. It’s because I couldn’t think of a better place to say this.” He takes a big breath trying to calm his own nerves.

“Listen, we’ve known each other for most of our lives now and ever since the first day I saw you, I knew. I knew that I wanted to be with you forever. I knew I could never live without you again. When we promised to be together, that was the happiest moment of my life. And with everything that’s happened recently, I couldn’t help but feel like I let you down. As soon as I returned, I should have stood my ground and declared my intentions with you, but I didn’t and it caused you to get hurt. I should have protected you.” “Neteyam, you—” he holds his hand up to stop you. He already knows that you would say it wasn’t his fault and that he couldn’t have known what would happen. And even though the logical part of his brain understands that, it still brings no comfort to his still-aching heart.

“I knew I had to do something to make it right. I promised you I would take care of it and I did.” “What did you do?” you’re almost scared to ask.

“Please do not worry about it. Just know that he will never come near you again. You don’t ever have to worry about him.”

His words ring through your head while you process them. Just like that? It was over? You wouldn’t have to be on high alert anymore or live in fear? You were free? He holds your hands and locks eyes with you.

“But I wanted to officially ask you if you’d do me the honor of letting me court you and being my mate.” He smiles at you, but his eyes are scanning your face looking for any little indication that you may reject him. He, of course, finds none.

“Do you really still need to ask?” your expression is overjoyed and Neteyam takes his first real breath since he started talking.

“You couldn’t have honestly thought that I would reject you, did you?”

“W-well, it’s been such a long time and I just wanted to be sure. A-and…” Neteyam starts to ramble just like he always did any time he was flustered or nervous. It was adorable and you can’t hold back the giggles especially when you notice the slight purple color starting to stain his cheeks.

You hold his face in your hands and his words trail off at your touch. “’Teyam, stop talking. The answer is yes. It was always going to be yes.” He captures your lips in a tender kiss and your heart soars. Everything was finally falling into place.

…

Over the next week while you heal your wounds, you and Neteyam find your footing as a new official couple. He courted you just like he said he would, showering you with the most extravagant gifts. Rare beads, intricately woven accessories, beautiful flowers, your favorite foods, you name it. Neteyam probably would gift you the moon itself if you were to ask for it.

It was still difficult some days, though. Even after your physical wounds healed, your mind still stayed vigilant at all times. It would cause you to jump at sudden sounds or touches.

Poor Neteyam looked so forlorn the day he tried to reach out and hold you and your instincts made you flinch away from him without you meaning to. He insisted that he understood why you reacted the way that you did. It still made you feel awful, though. You didn’t want to still be afraid, especially not of the one person you felt safest with. The one person you never had to be scared with.

It took time. A lot of time. Some nights, you still had nightmares about it all. His voice and touch still so vivid in your mind that you would swear he was there in the room hovering over your sleeping body in the middle of the night. Of course, he wasn’t actually there. Only Neteyam resting next to you and who would hold you a little closer to himself when he felt you stir awake from your midnight hauntings. Soft shushes and whispered words of reassurance would calm you back into a state of sleep.

Ralu truly never did dare to even look your way again. You would catch sight of him among the clan and it would make you pause briefly in your steps, but he never gave you so much as a glance. Neteyam never really told you what happened between the two of them, but you settled on the decision that it was probably for the best that you were left out of the loop. If you had to guess, though, it probably had something to do with the new scar he was sporting on his shoulder. In truth, how he did it didn’t really matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were out of the nightmare. You had your person. He was yours and you were his.

…

It was finally time. The day had come when you and Neteyam would finally be mated before Eywa. Your heart thunders in your chest gazing up at him under the glow of the Tree of Souls. His star-like freckles glowed a little brighter accentuating his features.

The ceremony had come and gone fairly quickly. Your union was acknowledged by the Tsahik in front of your families as they cheered and sang prayers for you both. Prayers of a long, happy partnership and many healthy children. After the ceremony, they sent the two of you off to have some privacy for your first night together. It was Neteyam’s idea to come here specifically. And you were so happy you let him choose. The setting was beautiful and buzzing with an energy that made everything feel even more alive and connected.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. You knew what was expected of mates. But you had never been touched in that way by anybody else. Your biggest fear was that it would hurt. You had tried to experiment a couple days ago in preparation for this night. You hesitantly and carefully tried to push one finger inside of yourself, but panicked at the feeling and cut the experiment short. It was frustrating. You loved Neteyam with your whole being and you wanted him to become one with your being. You wanted him to touch you. You couldn’t stand the thought of the last man who had laid hands on your body being Ralu. But could you really go through with this?

“What is wrong, yawne?” Neteyam asks you knowingly.

“Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?” you try to brush off his question.

“Your tail is doing that thing again. I know something is on your mind. Talk to me, tíyawn.”

You breathe a big sigh, “I think I’m just nervous. Now that we’re mated, I want us to…you know…do what mated people do. But I am nervous that it is going to hurt because I’ve never had anything inside before.” Your head drops in embarrassment and your eyes cautiously look up at Neteyam who is only smirking at you.

“You are too precious”, he says kissing your forehead. “We do not have to do anything that you are not ready for yet. And, when you are ready, I promise to be as gentle as possible.” “But I want to do it now. I want to become one with you.”

Neteyam thinks for a moment before he speaks again, “Here, let’s try this.” He pulls his queue forward and you follow him. “When we make tsaheylu, we’ll be able to completely feel each other and I will know how best to take care of you.”

You nod your head processing his words. The tendrils at the end of your queues dance wildly in front of you. You both bring them closer together until they meet in the middle and hold one another melding the two of you together.

Both of your pupils blow wide open as your minds take in all the new stimuli from not only your own bodies, but each others’ too. You can feel Neteyam’s breathing and heartbeat as if it were your own. Every single sensation he feels is coursing through your body all the way down to the feeling of the ground beneath his feet and the ends of his braids resting on his shoulders. It’s overwhelmingly euphoric.

You make the first move to reach out and touch Neteyam’s face and press your lips to his. He wraps you in his arms kissing you back deeply. You happily open your mouth for his tongue to explore. You both settle down on your knees and he lays you down on your back. Using one of your hands, you push your top up to reveal your breasts. Neteyam’s hand freely roams about your body massaging your soft skin. His fingers trek down your chest and waist and right past your loincloth to rub messy circles on your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat and Neteyam swallows the moan you let out. He breaks the kiss so he can watch your face.

“I’m going to put one inside, okay? Just breathe for me.” You take a big breath and as you release the air, Neteyam pushes one digit into your heat. The feeling is indescribable. It’s not quite uncomfortable, but it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. When he slowly starts to pull out and push back in, it feels like a lightning strike in your body and you love it.

Now, Neteyam can feel himself getting harder by the minute. Feeling your tight, slippery walls squeeze around his finger has his head spinning thinking about how good it would feel around his dick. It’s even more intensified by the bond you two held, feeling your pleasure radiate through his own body.

Once he feels your body relax more around him, he pushes in a second finger. The stretch is a little more intense, but still not anything you couldn’t handle. Your breath is heavy in your chest as you look up at him. “Neteyam…”

“You are doing so well, tíyawn.” He kisses your lips again and takes advantage of the way your body melts into him to push one final finger into you. He can feel through tsaheylu the dull sting that comes from being stretched like this for the first time. He holds his fingers in place just long enough to let the feeling pass for you before he moves again.

“’Teyam…please…I want it.” Your big doe eyes look up at him pleadingly.

Fuck, you were just too precious for Neteyam to ever deny you anything you wanted. Plus, he was just about at his own limits of his patience. He pulls his fingers from your core and the sudden emptiness makes you wince lightly. He helps to pull your loincloth off and you raise your hips to help him. He pulls the knot on his own loincloth loose to let it fall to the ground.

Your eyes widen seeing him for the first time. He’s big. Too big. There’s no way something like that will fit inside of you. Your nerves are starting to get riled up. Even without tsaheylu, Neteyam can feel your anxiety. One of his hands finds your chin to lead your eyes back up to his. He reassuringly rubs his thumb against your skin, “Slowly, okay? Just focus on me.” You re-steady your breathing and nod your head. You close your eyes when you feel his tip prodding at your soaking entrance. Neteyam pushes his hips forward towards yours and his tip presses on past your folds and right into you. You gasp and grit your teeth trying to push past the feeling.

Neteyam slowly inches himself further into you. You wince and whine at the feeling. “Shhh…just a little more. You’re doing such a good job.” It was as if he was pushing your organs to the side to make room for himself inside of you. It was almost suffocating how full you felt. But his soft voice and the caress of his fingers on your face help strengthen your resolve. Suddenly, he stops moving. “You can look now.” Your eyes lower to find your pelvises pressing together and a small bump poking through your abdomen. The sight normally would’ve horrified you had it not been for the immense pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Are you okay?” Neteyam’s patience is thinning by the second, but what little is left of his better sense urges him to go slow for you and make sure your first time is a good one. But damn if the way you were choking his dick didn’t make it difficult.

You nod up at him letting your body accommodate him. “I’m going to move now.” Your eyes cross at the drag of his tip along the spongey part of your walls as he pulls out and pushes back in. A small whine leaves your lips and your fingers hold on to Neteyam’s shoulders to give you something constant to focus on while you adapt to the new feeling.

Before you know it, the pain starts to dissipate and your chest falls dramatically letting out a breath you hadn’t even recognized you were holding onto. Your body relaxes fully and lets Neteyam in. His hips rock into you a little faster testing the waters and more moans fall from your lips. “’Teyam…” Neteyam feels just about ready to snap hearing how his name drips from your tongue in ecstasy.

He thrusts into you with more force and the sounds it pulls out of you triggers a carnal desire in his brain that his eyes are desperate to see as they roll back listening to you. Nevertheless, he pulls them back into place to find your half-lidded gaze on his face and parted lips calling his name. He’s positive he’s never found you more beautiful than this moment right now. But he craves to see your beautiful expression twist into something sinful. He can’t stop himself anymore from starting to pound into you.

“Ah..A-ah! Ah, Neteyam!” your hands feel around and search the ground around you for something to hold on to as you feel the pressure building in your stomach. Neteyam’s hands find yours and he threads his fingers between yours while he pours all his feelings for you into his thrusts. Both of your eyes look down between you to see the small bump in your stomach disappear with every retreat of his hips and re-emerge with every push forward. The sight is enough to drive you both to your release.

“’T-teyam! Gonna…g-gonna..” you can’t even grasp the words as your orgasm comes to the forefront of your mind.

“Do it. Cum with me.” He’s mere seconds from painting your walls completely white.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck and it’s prolonged by Neteyam continuing to fuck you through his own release deep inside you. His thrusts grow slower and gentler as you both come down from your highs. Your vision starts to refocus and your body goes limp. Neteyam slides out of you and your body tries to remember its original shape before he had made space for himself.

“Are you alright, tíyawn?” the lustful haze of Neteyam’s mind is clearing and his expression is slightly concerned while he checks on you. But your sleepy smile reassures him and you nod your head. “I’m more than okay.” Your hands wrap around his neck and pull him down to kiss you again.

He rolls you both onto your sides and you break the kiss to rest your head against his chest. “Can we do that every day?” a small chuckle rumbles in his chest as he kisses the top of your head.

“We can do it as much as you want, yawne.”

[kit-kat-katie]

this time, my time

A/N: hey, do you remember me? 0_0 it's been a long few months of school, to put in simply. now I'm off for the summer, and I'm here to slowly finish up my Finnick series and the request decaying in my inbox.

TW: canon violence and other sensitive topics (prostitution and other servitude to the Capitol), reader has a long-term knee injury, main character death, strong deviation from cannon events will start here, quick mentions of knives, past and present trauma for reader, the ending is so sad

Pairing: Finnick x GN! Reader (romantic)

Summary: The rebellion goes strong as you try to find your place in District 13. Things fall in and out of place as the continuous ups and downs of the warzone weigh on your mental and physical condition.

(<- Previous Part | Next Part -> | Series Masterlist)

You stand quietly outside of the meeting room, trying to pretend like you weren’t eavesdropping on the conversation going on inside. Whatever it was, it ended quickly as Katniss burst out of the doors first.

“So you’re going to be the Mockingjay?” You softly ask, which stops Katniss in her tracks.

“What choice do I have? You saw Peeta on TV in the Capital, and we know that the others are there too. I have to get him, them home.” She curtly says before turning and leaving the area.

You slip into the shadows as other members of the meeting leave - some you recognize, some you aren’t quite familiar with.

The last man to leave the room, the one you didn’t know on the air carrier that took you to District 13, is the only one to notice your presence.

“Do you believe Katniss is our Mockingjay?” He solemnly asks as you step into the light.

“She might not be an elegant speaker, or the best role model, but she’s got a lot of fight and energy left in her. If anyone is going to get us out of this mess, it’ll be her.” You hold on to your cane as you limp forward with your injured leg.

“What I said when we rescued you, Finnick, and Katniss, is still on the table. We can arrange to fix-”

“My fighting days are long over.” You gesture to your knee as a small chuckle escapes your throat. “Your doctors are amazing. They can prescribe fantastic painkillers, but they can’t fix this.”

Plutarch simply smiles to himself.

“You should see Beetee when you have the time. He’s made something for you, if you’re interested.” He shrugs before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

This cane is getting on my last nerve. It would be nice to walk with two feet again, or to walk long distances without having to be carried by a child.

~

“I’m assuming Plutarch spoke with you?” Beetee says as you stare in admiration at his room of inventions. 

“You’ve been busy while we’ve been stuck down here.” You marvel at something on his desk, but you know better than to touch.

“I haven’t had much to do, being stuck in a wheelchair and all.” Beetee makes his way over to you with a strange, metal-looking brace on his lap.

“What is that?” You ask as he hands it to you.

“It’s a regenerative knee brace - a special project that I was working on with a few of the medical specialists in Thirteen. I can’t guarantee that it’ll heal all, but you should be able to walk without that cane for hours at a time. Ideally, a few weeks of usage should get you completely healed, but we haven’t tested it on any subjects so the results may be unsure-”

“Beetee, I don’t think I can thank you enough for this.” You sit down on a chair next to him as you put the brace on. 

“Think nothing of it - it’s a favor for a friend.” He offers you a rare smile, and it’s one that you happily return.

When you stand up, the aching of your knee is reduced to a dullness that medication could only hope to achieve. After hobbling around Beetee’s workspace for a bit, you’re able to walk pretty well on your own - without that damn cane.

“It’ll work?” He asks as you brightly smile.

“This will definitely work.”

~

“I see you took Beetee up on his offer.” Finnick remarks as you lay on the bed next to him.

“You knew about this?” You ask as Finnick squeezes your side.

“Prim came to me one day and asked a bunch of weird questions about you and your medical history, and when I pressed her for answers, she told me about Beetee’s project for you. I only knew for two weeks-”

“-two weeks? And you didn’t tell me?!?” You playfully roll your eyes. “You watched me struggle for two weeks, knowing that there was a solution on its way. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d push you off of this bed.”

“You love me, Sunny?”

“Leave me alone.” You gently push him away before he wraps his arms around you.

“I love you too.” He mumbles into your hair before kissing your neck.

With the butterflies lingering in your stomach, you curl into his touch more as you feel your eyes become heavy.

“For the record, I’m still mad at you.” You mumble softly, and his bubbly laughter is the last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep.

~

“How is your knee?” Prim takes a few notes on her notepad as you swing your legs back and forth on the examination table.

“The pain isn't gone, but I can walk for a while without needing to sit down. Standing still can be an issue at times because my knee locks, and the brace is so heavy that it pulls me down with it.” You explain as she nods.

“That’s good progress, especially since you’ve only been wearing it for a week. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Prim stands up and gathers her notes before heading towards the door.

“Wait a minute, you-” You pause before asking, “why did you want to help me recover? You helped Beetee with the brace, but why do so?”

“My sister likes you, as much as she can like anyone,” Prim says, “and I have the same trust in you. We need as many people as we can for the fight ahead of us, and if I can help one person get back on their feet, then it’ll be worth it in the long run.”

“You’re wise for your age, and strong.” You softly bite your lip. “I’m sorry about your home, about everything that’s happened to you.”

“It’s all in the past, and the future is what we make of it.” She nods before leaving the room, and you push yourself off of the bed before heading for the door yourself.

I wonder what Prim was like before all of this happened. I’ll have to ask Katniss sometime, if she’ll ever tell me anything personal about herself.

~

“President Coin has wanted to meet you for a long time, but in-between your recovery from the injury, Katniss becoming the Mockingjay, and then the recent attack, there hasn’t been much time-”

“-It’s alright, Plutarch. I’m just grateful she took us all in.” You shrug as Plutarch opens the door for you. “Thank you.”

President Coin stands up and offers you her hand, which you gladly shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sunny, if I may call you that?” She greets you before letting go of your hand, and you take a seat next to her.

“It’s alright with me. Thank you for your endless hospitality, President Coin, I can’t thank you enough.” You graciously bow your head.

“It’s no issue, but I’m afraid this isn’t a simple greeting. I requested your… unique expertise for a reason. After the attack on District 13, the civilians from this District and District 12 are, understandably, scared. I’m requesting that you offer some of your time and expertise to train them on different fighting tactics.” 

“You want me to teach them? What about Katniss or Finnick?”

“Katniss is an… acquired taste, and Finnick hasn’t connected to the people of this shelter as you have.” Coin explains as Plutarch nods along.

“People look up to you, not as a Victor, but as a person. You might not be the Mockingjay, but your voice and actions carry power. Why not use them for something good?” He adds as you ponder for a moment.

It’s been a while since I’ve held my knives… am I going to be okay with this?

“It might take me a while to get back into fighting, with my knee and all, but I’ll give it a try. I’m sure Beetee will be happy if I can get some more use out of this brace.” You lightly tap your foot on the ground as you feel the brace hum against your leg.

I wonder if it’s going to heal me fully, or if I’ll be stuck with this thing forever.

~

Training the civilians of the two districts didn’t go as poorly as you thought it would. You were worried about injuring yourself further, or worse, accidentally hurting an innocent civilian if your survival instincts kicked in. 

Those who had shown up seemed grateful for your help, and the children that you had grown to care for had come to watch the training. You weren’t going to let them fight, no child should be involved in a warzone, but you didn’t mind them watching.

Especially when they cheered every time you hit your mark or you pinned someone to the ground. It gave you a much-needed ego boost, something that had never really phased you before. All eyes had been on you since you won the Hunger Games those years ago, and it didn’t dawn on you how weird it felt to be left alone.

You were grateful, of course, to not have to look over your shoulder in case someone from the Capitol was spying on you. Things were just… different now. The life you had known since you won the Hunger Games was gone.

Maybe you could get used to the idea of an “after”, one where you can let go of everything that has been eating you alive. One where you and Finnick could…

It’s best not to get my hopes up.

~

“I learned a much more valuable form of payment… secrets.”

You stand next to Katniss, quietly wiping tears from your face as you watch him bare his soul for all to witness. It wasn’t like you were completely clueless to what he was doing in the Capitol, but you never knew it was this bad.

Katniss, on the other hand, is fixated on the small bits of footage of the rescue team. You can’t blame her for doing so - who knows how Peeta, Johanna, and the rest were doing inside of the Capitol? Had they been tortured, killed, or condemned to a fate much like Finnick’s?

“And the biggest secrets are about our President, Coriolanus Snow. Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” Finnick stares into the camera, and you stare into his eyes, hoping you can offer some sort of comfort when he can’t even see you. 

“One word: poison. He stopped every mutiny before it even started. There were so many mysterious deaths of his adversaries, even the allies who were threats. Snow would drink from the same cup to deflect suspicion, but antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses as a perfume. It helps cover the scent from sores in his mouth that will never heal.”

Your eyes dart over to the rescue team footage as they get closer to the captives in the Capitol - Finnick just has to distract them for a bit longer. It’s tortuous, for you and for him, to live so vicariously through the trauma and memories that you’ve both carried for all of these years.

“He can’t hide the scent of who he really is. He kills without mercy, he rules with deception and fear. His weapon of choice is the only thing suited for such a man. Poison, the perfect weapon for a snake.”

Suddenly, things go white and you’re pulled out of the weird haze you were in when Katniss calls out to Beetee. Coin attempts to bring the footage back up, but it seems to be too late.

“We have another sixty seconds and then we’ll be cut off.” Beetee says, and someone in the room asks if they should call back the hovercraft.

You would’ve volunteered to go next, to tell them every dirty little detail about being a Victor, but Katniss volunteered first. 

“Are you sure?” You softly ask, and Katniss nods as you step out of the way.

The others in the room do the same as Katniss calls out to President Snow multiple times, and time runs thin before he answers her back.

“What an honor, and I don’t imagine you’re calling me to thank me for the roses.” His face appears through the static, and you physically recoil at the sight of him. 

“I never asked for this. I never asked to be in the games, I never asked to be the Mockingjay. I just wanted to save my sister and keep Peeta alive. Please, just let him go.” The desperation in her answer is evident as she continues. “I will stop being the Mockingjay. I will disappear, you will never have to see me ever again.”

“Ms. Everdeen, you couldn’t run from this anymore than you could’ve run from the games.” Snow coldly says.

“Please, you’ve won. You’ve already beaten me. Release Peeta, and take me instead.” Katniss offers herself up, but Snow shakes his head.

“I couldn’t pass the opportunity for a noble sacrifice.”

“Then tell me what to do. I’ve always kept my promises, haven’t I?”

“You say you didn’t want a war, and that’s just what’s happened. I told you what a fragile thing peace was, and still, like a child, you took pleasure in breaking it. I know what you are, I know you can’t see past your narrow concerns, but please, Ms. Everdeen, I doubt you know what honesty is anymore.”

You’re barely able to focus on the conversation because the sight of President Snow is enough to send you into fight-or-flight. Haymitch has had to pull you back multiple times to prevent you from interfering, and you’re a few seconds from leaving the room entirely.

He’s not even here, and you’re still scared shitless of him. What a fucking nightmare you’ve found yourself in.

“You’ve asked me to convince you that I was in love with Peeta. Haven’t I, at least, done that?”

“Ms. Everdeen, it’s the things we love most that destroy us. I want you to remember that I said that. Don’t you think I know that your friends are in the Tribute Center?” He pauses for a moment as everyone stares in abstract horror. “Cut them off.”

The feed crashes as everyone launches into a panic. Haymitch goes to comfort Katniss as Beetee tries to reach those inside of the Capitol. You’re left staring at the screen, contemplating why he continues to play the same games with Katniss that he did with you.

~

“Sunny, you’ve done excellent work today.” Snow’s eyes remain fixated on his roses as you admire the poppies near the entrance. 

“Thank you, President Snow.” You quietly mumble.

“You can just call me Snow - we are friends, are we not?”

“Of course, my apologies.” You put on a brave smile as you take a cautious step forward.

“No need to apologize, at least not to me.” He pauses for a moment. “I heard from one of my advisors that you had brushed off his attempts at courting you.”

“It won’t happen again.” You bow to him after looking back at the poppies. “I’ll go and make a personal apology before I leave for District Four.”

“Good, it’d be a shame if I had to hurt the family that threw you out after you had won the games. Or maybe I’ll show your new ‘family’ some of the raw footage of your Games, if that would be enough to deter them from speaking with you again.”

“I sincerely apologize for disrespecting you, Snow, and I will make sure that my apology is just as sincere to your advisor.”

“I know you will, you always make great amends. That’s what I like about you, Sunny, you know when you’ve done something wrong, and nothing will stop you from making it right.” Snow picks a rose before making eye contact with you. “The advisor is being housed on the second floor of my home.”

“Thank you for your utmost kindness.” You bow again before scurrying away.

~

“They’re here.”

Nothing could’ve stopped you from rushing into the hospital ward - not even the armed guards that tried to stop you. Your eyes scan around for a familiar face, and you spot Johanna pulling away from guards and doctors alike.

“Leave me alone!” She barks at them before looking at you. “You look like shit.”

“You look much worse, believe me.” You scoff before waving the doctors away. “I’ve got her, I promise.”

“I tried to give them hell, but the Capitol repaid the favor with interest, as they always do.” Johanna reluctantly swings her legs back onto the hospital bed as you arrange some of the medication nearby.

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch what the doctors give you. You won’t have to take anything you don’t need, I promise.” You step aside and gesture for a doctor to come back.

“The knee brace?”

“Talk to Katniss about that one.” You both chuckle to yourselves before Finnick bursts into the ward.

“Annie? Mags?” He calls out as he desperately searches around the area.

When you look back at Johanna, she has a sympathetic look on her face as you cover your mouth with one of your hands.

“I’m sorry-” 

“-I need a minute before I do something I regret.” You back away from Johanna and rush into the hallway as you continue to hear Finnick call out for them.

Hot tears fall down your face as you let your metal knee brace pull you to the ground. After seeing Peeta alive, you had hope for the others… but your hope had now been crushed.

You remember a time when you wished that you and Finnick could have all of the time in the world to be alone together.

Now you want to reach back into the past and slap yourself for saying that.

There wouldn’t be anymore Sunday dinners, small fishing trips, or beach picnics. No more midnight stargazing with Mags when you couldn’t sleep, or baking cookies with Annie as a way to help her relax for a while.

Everything you had gained after losing yourself in the Games was nearly gone.

All that was left was the somber man who just stumbled out of the ward. The look in Finnick’s eyes was distant - he was here with you without being here with you.

You, as quickly as one with a knee brace can, stand up and rush into his arms. You’re sure that your sobs can be heard from the farthest corner of the underground facility.

He doesn’t even respond or move his head in acknowledgment. 

Neither of you move, and time doesn’t either as you grieve together.

You wanted to believe that you were out of your waking nightmare, but maybe the Games were just the beginning of a lifetime of torture.

Only time would tell.

tagging ->  @yokolesbianism , @avoxrising, @honethatty12, @sweetybuzz25, @catvader101, @sollum, @emerald-valkyrie, @randomgurl2326, @caitsymichelle13, @bcbci, @iris1587 (send a request or comment on this fic to be added to the taglist!)

[teejaystumbles]

Home is with You

(a short dreamling drabble I wrote because it was raining)

Hob is homesick and meets his stranger in his dreams. (AO3)

This evening, Hob doesn't know what to do with himself. He is bored, and homesick. There's something about the rain on the roof that makes him think of home. His old home, back in the 14th century. The rain had never sounded like it sounds now - back then, it had been more muffled, falling on straw and wood rather than aluminium and bricks.

As he lies on his couch and listens to the rain he wonders if he should go on vacation. Take a hike, camp out in the woods, or even better, book a stay at one of those old history reenactment sites, where he can sleep in the straw, smell the pigs and listen to the rain fall on the thatched roof.

Yes, that would be nice.

He falls asleep with the unforgettable memory of the distinct smell of pigsty in his nose, and dreams of his mother's smile and the way her hands had been smaller than his, at the end.

All the while the sound of the rain is a constant, soothing sound at the back of his mind. Soon the rain is all he can hear, his mother and home no longer visible. He is standing in a dark field, rain pouring down on him. Thunderclouds are rolling on the horizon and occasional flashes of far off lightning illuminate them.

"Hob," a familiar voice says to his right and he turns toward it.

"Hello, Stranger."

Hob smiles at the black-clad figure striding slowly towards him. His stranger stops only a feet away from him and Hob is fascinated by the fact that the rain is not making him wet. It seems to slide off of his stranger like from a duck's back. Meanwhile Hob can feel the rain running down his face and back, his long hair hanging in soaked strings down on his shoulders. The rain is warm, though. It doesn't bother him. Something else is, though, and he frowns at the stranger.

"I haven't seen you since 1889. Where were you?"

The stranger stiffens and a flash like lightning strikes through his pitch-black eyes before he turns them away from Hob, staring out into the distance. Hob follows his eyes and sees that the receding storm clouds have been hiding something - a castle, with more turrets and towers than Hob has ever seen. It looks like half of it has crumbled, though.

"There is much to repair," his stranger says and Hob looks back at him.

"Can I help?" he asks, hope unfolding in his chest. It feels natural that he should meet his stranger here, on this field, in the rain, although a small part of him is slowly realising that this is weird, this can't be real.

"Am I dreaming?" he asks with realisation, and his stranger looks back at him and nods slowly.

"Yes. Hob...I will visit you soon. Once the necessary repairs to my kingdom have been made," he says solemnly, and Hob nods and smiles.

"Please. I am waiting for you. Always."

Hob wakes up and remembers only a tiny smile on familiar lips.

[ask-healthy-light]

With a gentle smile on their face, Eclipse laid down for their Young Dragon friend, who still could barely think of anything to say in response to the incredible compliments given to him by the Royal Sisters; and after he had climbed onto their back, Eclipse quickly trotted downstairs to rejoin the others, beaming with pride all the way over what the Princesses said about Spike and his abilities.

When they caught up to the group, it was clear to Eclipse that it would take Spike some time before he could gather his thoughts, so they politely let Celestia and Luna know that he was at a loss for words, but they knew he wanted to solemnly thank them for the kind words they gave him; and the two Princesses glanced at Spike as he shyly looked away and nodded, to which they merely warmly smiled.

Although it took a while for the proud blush on Spike's face to fade, it quickly appeared yet again when Celestia asked him if he needed any help in making yet another meal for more beings; but after he took a deep breath to calm his mind, he told Celestia with a stutter that he greatly appreciated her offer, before he quietly thanked Eclipse for carrying him downstairs, and leapt off their back.

As the greatly contrasted beings headed to the kitchen together, Luna, Eclipse, and Frost were left wondering what they should do, whether to attempt to help out in the kitchen or to rejoin the group of their friends who were still waiting in the Great Hall; but when Eclipse and Frost turned around to ask Luna what they should do, catching her off-guard, she quickly replied that she did not know.

Instead, she asked them in return for a moment of time so she could reach out to Nox, as she wanted to let them know that everything had gone according to plan, and Cadance and her Daughters were now resting in their quarters, unaware of the white lies they were keeping up; so Luna turned around to reach out to Nox, and when she heard her, she let her know about the letter and the Crystal Royals.

But since she knew that Shining had promised his Family that he would not be gone for too long, she urged her Daughter to make haste to the Outpost whither they were travelling, but also to take care of herself and the rest of her company, both on the way and when they made it; but eventually, Luna stopped herself, and she slowly let out a shaky breath as she asked Nox to be careful, most of all.

On the other side of the Void through which Luna was speaking, Nox quietly listened to her Mother's words as her eyes swiftly welled up with tears, until she steadied her voice, and told Shining that his broken scroll had arrived, and that his Family was none the wiser; but they had to leave at the break of dawn, as neither she nor her Mother or Aunt knew how long they could keep Cadance unaware.

In response, Shining let out a great sigh, both of relief and frustration, before he kindly thanked Nox for telling him, as the urge to be with his Family once again was a great motivator, even if it meant that they had to fight countless foes before they could head back home; but he had faith that they would all return almost unscathed, especially with the incredible strength they all possessed.

Still, for the rest of their journey, it would be wise for everybody in their group to keep a close eye on their surroundings, as he did not know what they were travelling into, but if Boomlord is to be believed, they would face great opposition, and they all had to watch their every step; but Boom also said their rest and energy were important, and it was best to get some sleep while they could.

Luckily, the rest of the group agreed with him, save for two, as Ty was sleeping already, and Light was sitting on a tall rock some distance away, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings for the night, respectively; but while others slowly closed their eyes and fell asleep by the campfire, Nox and Shining could not fall asleep as easily, so they wandered over to sit with Light for some time.

Not a word was spoken between the three, but their gentle smiles and nods spoke volumes…

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Solar Eclipse and Twilight Sparkle as Twilight Eclipse from @asktwilighteclipse Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing

[sapphickorro]

hi!!! i liked your writing and i was wondering if you could write a Carol x reader where carol is late for a christmas party and tries to make it up to reader? fluff and maybe smut pls! ty!

Pairing(s) - Carol Danvers x Reader

summary: Carol comes home for a Christmas Eve party a little too late.

warnings: angst with comfort :) , use of petname “princess”

word count: 947

A/N: I was gonna write a smut butttt…..I think you guys should get a smut from me on Christmas as a gift &lt;3. dont mind the shitty quality pics!!

ao3 - masterlist

The party nears an end as Nick, Monica, and the two Maria’s sit on the floor by the fireplace playing Uno. You’re in the kitchen away from the commotion, watching out the window lost in your thoughts. 

You feel a tug on the sleeve of your oversized sweater, you look down and see Monica looking up at you. “Are you waiting for Auntie Carol?” She softly asks.

“Yeah, kiddo.” You lightly smile down at her. You place your mug down onto the island and pick her up in your arms. She giggles holding onto you tightly. “Let’s get you back in the game.” 

The two of you sit back on the carpet floor, watching the heated game between the adults go on. Enjoying each other’s company.

“She might not come home tonight.” Nick states blatantly as he drops a reverse card causing one of the Maria’s to groan. 

“Yeah, I know.” You solemnly respond. “I just thought she would’ve cleared some time in her schedule to visit us again.” 

“Don’t be sad Y/N/N.” The kid cuddled in your arms says to you. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be alright. I just need some time outside.” You drop Monica down onto the floor as you stand up stepping out onto the front porch. You take a seat on one of the steps, pulling your sleeves over your fingers. The cool late night air washes over your face causing you to huddle into yourself. 

You wonder if Carol’s on one of the stars that litter the sky during this time of night. Imaging that she probably just got lost on one of the planets instead of forgetting her promise that she’d be back for Christmas. Tears build up in your eyes, you knew what getting into a long distance relationship would cost. You willingly put your heart out for a person that you’d only see once in a while, your love for her tearing down any regrets of getting together. 

Yet, why did it hurt so much every time you woke up on your bed alone again. Gripping onto her pillow imaging it was her instead of the white cloth that smelled of her shampoo.

You get placed out of your trance as you see a star flying down towards you. Your star. Your star that consisted of blonde hair and red and blue attire. It was Carol. 

You stand up on the ledge of the steps watching her land softly down onto the ground. She slowly walks towards you, a box of chocolates in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in her other. 

“Hey princess, sorry to keep you waiting.” She looks into your eyes, guilt written all over them knowing that she had missed another important event to you. 

“Carol, do you know what time it is?” You look away from her. She slowly sets down the flowers and chocolates by the fence railing as she holds your hands, instantly warming them up. “I know love, I know. I said I’d be here and I’m here now.” She speaks softly to you, not wanting to anger you more.

“Yeah, at least you decided to show up this time. Carol, I let you miss Thanksgiving but I seriously thought that I’d have to wake up on Christmas morning alone.” You pull your hands away from hers. 

“In my defense. I was about to leave the planet I was on, EARLY. I had finished hours ago until the queen of the planet decided to keep me as a personal guard and I told them how I have to make it back onto Earth to go to this really lovely party and see the love of my life again and then chaos ensued and I had to fight them all off. And then, there was this whole political warfare thing-” She catches herself rambling and sighs.

“Look, I’m really sorry. I promised you I’d be here and I couldn’t even get here on time. I really tried and I know you’re upset and disappointed at me. But, can we just enjoy tonight? Christmas is in less than 12 hours and I’d love to do nothing but snuggle in bed with you as we get our matching pjs on while watching those cheesy christmas movies you always watch.” She places a hand on your cheek turning you to look at her and you give in. You could never say no to Carol no matter how upset you were at her. 

For the first time since she landed, you noticed her dirtied suit and bloodied face. Her hair’s a mess and you can’t help but smile at how although she just got out of a big fight she still came with flowers and chocolates, just for you.

You pull her in for a kiss. “Fine, but you might be sleeping on the couch for a while till you learn your lesson.” 

“Aw man, perhaps I could pay you back in another way?” She says grinning, leaning in to kiss you again.

“Auntie Carol!!!” The two of you break away as Monica runs out with her arms open. 

“Monica!” Carol kneels down to embrace Monica’s hug. Picking her up and swinging her around. The three of you giggle as a shadow fills behind you. The other adults stand by the doorway smiling.

“Good to see you made the party.” Rambeau says. “Nick, Rambeau, Hill. Glad to see you guys.” Carol says walking towards them, Monica still in her arms. You pick up the chocolates and flowers, walking back into the house with a smile on your face.

Perhaps tonight wasn’t so bad. The only thing you could’ve wished for came to you. 

[strandnreyes]

more from the post-war fic

“I need a job,” TK declares as he greets Carlos in the kitchen. 

The other man is already dressed in his overalls for work and TK immediately wants to get him out of them, but he refrains, focusing on the thoughts that have been rattling around his mind for a while now. 

If he’s going to stay here, he wants to contribute, and even then he needs an income for expenses beyond groceries and bills. TK is still living off of the few items he brought from New York and eventually he’s going to want more clothes and a new toothbrush. He wants to feel like he’s physically building a life here, putting down roots.  

Carlos sets his cup of coffee down, swallowing his sip before laughing slightly in amusement at TK’s entrance. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he smiles.

TK’s shoulders slump, a sheepish smile creeping onto his face as he crosses the distance and kisses Carlos. “Good morning,” he greets, cupping Carlos’ face and looking him in the eye before repeating, “I need a job.”

TK lets Carlos go when reaches for a mug, giving him time to think over potential options as he pours another cup of coffee. He slides it on the counter to TK before moving to the fridge to get the milk. 

“You used to do work for magazines, right?” Carlos asks. 

“I did,” TK confirms, cradling the mug in his hands as Carlos adds just the right amount of milk. “No offense to Texas, but there was a bit more of a market for that in New York.”

“Fair,” Carlos laughs, “but what about working for a newspaper instead?”

TK considers the suggestion, finding he isn’t all that opposed to it. There likely would be something different to capture every day, keeping him from getting restless, and it would help him explore the new city he now calls home. He might even get perks, he thinks, smiling at the thought of possibly taking Carlos to a baseball game instead of watching him read the stats the next morning.

“That’s not a bad idea,” he smiles and then clears his throat, a little more solemnly adding, “I was at Austin American-Statesman last week actually.”

Carlos’ brow furrows. “For what?”

TK taps the counter and then looks up at Carlos with a sad smile. “Looking for your obituary.”

“What?” Carlos asks, his face contorting into a distressed frown 

TK takes a breath and then whispers, “I had to be sure.” He swallows hard. “After I found out about the fire I— I had to be sure that you...”

Carlos abandons his coffee and then carefully plucks TK’s from his hands too before pulling him into a tight hug. “Baby,” he exhales. “I’m sorry you had to do that. Even if you didn’t find anything, the thought alone is awful.”

TK hums, pressing his nose harder into Carlos’ neck, right over his pulse. “Not my favorite day.”

Carlos kisses his temple and then holds him for a second longer before slowly letting him go. He doesn’t let him get far though, smiling softly and steering the conversation back to the present. “Do you have any of your work with you?”

TK nods. “I have a few of my shots from before the war. Some photos from out west and then a couple that were published in Time.”

“Time?” Carlos asks, clearly impressed.

“Mh hm,” TK shrugs, but it’s hard not to smile when Carlos is looking at him in admiration. 

“You could take a few with you,” he suggests. 

“Like a portfolio,” TK says and Carlos nods. 

“The Austin newspaper is no Time magazine, they’d be stupid to pass up a talent like yours,” he says easily and TK bites his lip, a smile breaking free a second later.

“Okay,” TK decides. “I think I should.” 

“I think so, too.” Carlos smiles back and then tilts his head in consideration. “Actually… I have something you could borrow. Stay right here,” he says, planting a kiss on TK’s cheek before ducking out of the room. 

When he returns, it’s with a brown, leather briefcase in his hands. He sets in on the counter in front of TK. “I got it for my interview with Paul,” he explains, laughing slightly. “I was completely overdressed.”

TK smiles at the endearing thought and then looks away from Carlos, picking up the briefcase and testing the feel of the leather strap in his hand. “Thank you,” he says earnestly.

“Of course,” Carlos responds effortlessly. He waits while TK undoes the latch, peering inside at the different pockets, and when the briefcase is shut again, he says, “You’ve been holding out on me. Show me these photos that landed you in one of the most famous magazines.”

[autisticempathydaemon]

For the RedactedAudio match-ups!

I pondered over whether I should send my own request (I'm sure you have plenty of these already and I didn't want to add more to the workload- for a lack of a better word) but I love the love and care you give for previous entries and it just seems so fun to play along! Please take all the time you need, there's no rush at all ><

Lizzy McAlpine's "Doomsday" has been playing nonstop for the past month, but I've always been obsessed with Will Wood's "Well, Better Than the Alternative"! My fav part of the lyrics: "Baby could you play along with me? / Baby would that be alright with you? / And when we find out what's wrong with me / Could you tell me how I'm right for you?" This is the kind of song suitable for both lighthearted jamming and brooding self-reflection while staring at the ceiling at ungodly hours, yknow?

For the Enneagram type, I just did the test recently and I got type 4? I found the descriptor "Inward Exlorer" extremely suiting! Also, in case it helps, my MBTI is INFJ^^

I had several childhood friends, the one I talked to the most was a faceless boy my age with glasses and messy hair who's crazy about the concept of martyrdom. I'm trying to write him into my story these days!

I happen to adore my name for the meaning behind it. My initials are literally A.R.T., and, fun fact, I'm currently the only person with my last name in my region, haha. But yknow, names carry weight to them, and I find the weight of mine a bit cumbersome at times, so that might be a cause for change somewhere far in the future. Maybe changing it to Ara, or Nadine? Because the meanings are so pretty ^^

My current fav audio vid is the "finally hearing from your your long distance lover again"! What can I say? Anton is my beloved and he gives off so much comfort and I root (haha get it) for his happiness!

Speaking of platonic attraction, it's gotta be Hux and Damien. As a college student myself, how wonderful it would be to have them with me to go through endless study sessions and just to hang out? If I get to write fate beforehand, I'd have them and Camelopardalis be my childhood friends. Imagine that!

I don't exactly have a gas station drink combo(?) but I always order carrot-orange juice if I see it on the menu. My siblings look at me weird whenever I do, but it's really good!

Uh, what else is there... I've been told I'm the older sister type, or the mom friend? I grow tomatoes and bird eye chillies alongside roses of various colors on my family's front yard, and one of my life ambitions is to own a house with big enough land to grow fruit trees- I solemnly swore to my mom and her mom that I'd plant lemon and orange trees if I could make that happen, because they love the smell of citrus. I write; mostly short stories, and I've published a number of anthologies, but I'm working on finishing the first draft for my first novel.

Oh goodness this is becoming so long already. Thank you for taking your time to read this! I'm looking forward for your verdict, haha ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Ooh, this was an incredibly easy one to assign! There’s a lot of little and big factors that went into my decision, but the kicker is that a big, lovely family home wouldn’t be complete without a David Shaw to help take care of it.

Type Fours and INFJ’s are so lovely and creative, generally very attuned to their inner sphere of thoughts and emotions. I think that pairs well with David, who went through the character development of needing that openness to draw him out into the open, honest, affectionate man he is today. Your being the mom friend also pairs well since he’s the dad friend, and the two of you could lend each other support in case you neglect your needs in favor of others.

Speaking of “mom and dad”, I love to think of the huge, beautiful house and garden the two of you would cultivate! It’d be so homey and comfortable, the perfect place for pack parties, the sort of space where every member knows they’re welcome. Not to mention, those fruit trees would be the envy of Dahlia; you and David would make sure of it. Those would be the most bountiful trees and most beautiful garden you could ever imagine.

Song:

Oh, let's get rich and buy our parents/ Homes in the South of France/ Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters/ And teach them how to dance/ Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain/ Making everybody look like ants/ From way up there, you and I, you and I

I love the vibes of this song for you guys! Even if it’s not what I think his music taste would be (dad rock), it’s sweet, it’s fun, it’s cozy. It’s perfect summer day, laying in the grass and dandelions and roses music. It’s a duet that he would never think of not chiming in along with you.

Runner-Ups:

Lasko could also strike me as an INFJ, so I think the two of you would make this lovely, introverted pair. Plus, a writer and a professor- that’s objectively cute. Milo is also a good runner up, because frankly, that boy strikes me as a momma’s boy, so he would adore the way you talk about your mom and grandma. You also have that shared dream of owning a nice house and home, so there’s that too.

note: I like the cut of your jib- roses and tomatoes AND Birds Eye chilis? The best kind? You’ve got taste /gen

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[rxgueone]

LIVE FAST, DIE YOUNG PT. 2

Word count: 3,230.

Pairing: Austin Butler x oc

Summary: Aurilia (oc) is drunk as hell. She calls Austin to come pick her up. When he spends the night with her.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, substance use, death, angst, fluff (?). All I can think of.

Tags: none.

Note: PT. 1 PT. 3

—

“You should dress nice for the occasion.” Nik suggested as they were both walking to the address. They were about to turn into the next block before Nik stopped them.

Austin turned to face him in silence, Nik took his flannel off. Handing it to Austin with a lazy expression plastered on his face. Austin raised a brow, but took it without asking. In turn, he had given Nik the black ragged xxl hoodie he always wore. Nik grabbed the cigarette in his mouth to hand it to his friend, who held it for him as he put it on. Taking it back and popping it into his mouth, he looked over at Austin.

They both had continued walking after. Austin’s breathing became heavy, emptying his mind of all thoughts. The smell of a fresh smoked cigarette filling his lungs. Nik, who was only 19 started smoking at 16, going to an ID-less smoke shop to get a pack of spirits. At the time his addiction was awful, smoking almost three packs a day. Now just one pack.

Nik would push his limit’s back then. Chain smoking at least 2-3 cigarettes at a time. Admittedly, Austin hated it. However he admitted in his mind it’d only be a matter of time when Nik would start. In spite of him worrying, Austin and Nik signed up for this life at just 12. He was pushed by his older siblings, and for Nik? He just didn’t want his ride or die to be scared and alone while dealing.

The longer this life continued. It wasn’t if they’d get jumped for dealing and cutting out, it was a matter of when they’d get jump. When they’d lose their life. It’s already almost happened before, he could remember clear as day when the cops got called on him. Looking up at his towering friend, Nik exhaled smoke. His black messy hair covered his eyes, and like usual he seemed relaxed.

Aurilia waited for Austin to come by. A strange man had offered to walk her home. But she rejected, yeah she was drunk. But not drunk enough to think this man was Austin. They were rambling on and on about something she didn’t care for. She didn’t go to this party alone, she was the side bitch. Just the acquaintance, her dorm-mate didn’t want to go alone. But now that same dorm-mate was occupied with a guy. And frankly? Aurilia was bored. Her friend had ditched her for a guy whilst this other stranger was bothering her.

Just in the distance she could spot a duo walking side by side. Her vision was a mess, but she saw blonde wavy hair and a tall figure. That must be Tin Head… and his friend Nik. She thought. Clearing her throat, she stumbled over her heels. “Ey, ey, ey! Be careful!” She heard the man yell at her.

Quickly swishing around. “My friends are here.” She protested. “I’m fine.” Flicking him away like a pest, she swiftly turned her back on him. Stepping forward, she bumped into something. “Hey, watch—“

“Hey Ricky,” a deep voice snapped her back to reality. Looking up, she could see Austin standing in front of her, “hello to you too, Lia.”

“Hello,” she hummed, “how’re you?” She had a bright grin plastered on her face.

Austin’s eyes kept looking down at her, he didn’t bother to move his head. “I’m fine.”

“Hey Aus, you know this chic? She’s been tryna walk home alone. I’ve been keeping an eye on ‘er.” Ricky had a typical Italian New Yorker accent. But, he seemed close to Austin, which had confused Aurilia.

“Yes, she called me to pick her up. I apologize for her behavior.” He answered solemnly. Aurilia like a dog, went to Austin’s side. Leaning onto his shoulder as he conversed with Ricky.

“Nah ‘s alright pal.” Ricky shook his head, looking back at the house. Nik looked down at Aurilia then at Austin. “So, Nikkie!” Looking at Nik, Ricky seemed interested. “Could make some paper here if you get my meanin’ y’know.”

“I’ll stay here.” Nik claimed. Austin didn’t protest to it, Nik was no longer needed for the night. “If I didn’t, Al would kill me.”

“Alright, I’ll see you two later.”

“Cya man.” Ricky and Nik both pulled away from Aurilia and Austin. Austin could see Nik flick the cigarette away, only to grab another.

“You okay, Lia?” He looked at her flushed face. She was lost, but nodding to his question. He sighed, rolling his eyes. Stepping back, then swiftly turning around. He walked a few steps forward, then waited for her.

This was done repeatedly until he had enough. She kept falling behind. “Lia,” he held his hand out, but she was out of her mind. Not noticing his hand, he grabbed hers. Their fingers interlocking with each other, he pulled her to his side. Narrowing his eyes, “keep up.” He said under his breath.

They both walked side by side. Aurilia hugging his whole arm. “Hey Tin head,”

“Hm.”

“Thanks for picking me up.” She looked up at him. Austin and her stopped walking, and he turned to look back at her. His head craned down to look at her face closely. She reeked of alcohol, specifically of scotch.

Her eyes widened in awe. His left ear was pierced with a black hoop. She could feel the warm rings he wore on his left hand tightly pressed against her palm. His eyes were examining her face, while hers were staring at his face. Sniffling, “yeah.” He looked away as they resumed to walking. “I’ll drop you off at your place.”

“Don’t you have a place?” It was a question of genuine curiosity. She always saw him outside, away from the neighbors. After dropping her off, he’d always leave the dorms immediately.

Hesitantly, he answered. “No.” Bringing his hand to the nape of his neck, he had breathed in to process everything. He didn’t know how to explain this to her. “I uh…” clearing his throat, “the streets are my home.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y’know,” he let out a sigh, “I live out here. I don’t got a home.”

“You’re homeless?”

“Yeah,” he gave a nod.

“Is that why you never smile?” He cocked up a brow, confused why she would say that. “We’ve been friends for a month. You never smile.” She claimed, tilting her head to the side. “Smile.” She ordered.

As she watched him. His lips quivered a bit, as if he was struggling to smile. He brought up a sheepish smile. “You look cute.” It was a genuine compliment, his face drooped down instantly.

“C’mon.” They both went back to walking. Aurilia was swinging their hands together.

“You should stay over.” She suggested, glancing up at him to see his reaction. Which was a simple deadpan expression.

“Where would I sleep?”

“With me.”

Austin had no issue with this. He knew he’d do nothing with her and just stay up all night. Plus, it would feel nice to lay in a bed again instead of constantly hanging his head. For Aurilia? She trusted him. She knew he wouldn’t do anything. Plus, she was incredibly bored. She knew Austin would keep her entertained. Not to mention, he smelled of pure cigarettes. He needed a shower. “You sure?” He wanted to double check with her. She was drunk of course, but he wanted her to be sure.

“Yep yep.”

A heaving sigh was all she needed. She knew he was gonna say yes. And she had the brightest smile.

—

Aurilia was staring at Austin who was laying beside her. She had washed his flannel, which apparently belonged to his friend. His hair was fluffy, just washed. He smelled of strawberries, which was odd cause he usually smelled like the city. She wasn’t use to it yet. After a few moments, she fell asleep beside him.

Austin, who had been awake the whole time. Opened his eyes, his eyes gliding to the side to look at her. She was sleeping peacefully. Slowly sitting up, he wiped his face. His face turned to hers so he could take in her features. He had never gotten a good look. He was a simple walker, would meet her at 5:30PM, sleep at her table, after that he’d walk her home. What would he do after? Just live off the streets.

His life was complicated. His brothers had a place, he could always stay with them. They were paying for his college too. But, his college was just a formality. The only reason he got into it was so he could deal. After all, college kids love to party, love to rebel.

Turning away from her. He sat on the edge of the bed. His elbows rested on his thighs, hands covering his lips as he hunched over. Live fast, die young, live fast, die young. He would repeat these words in his head for the rest of the night. It was something his brothers taught him. To accept this life, he was going to die young.

Aurilia stirred awake, poking her head up from the pillow she smeared with her makeup. She could see a shirtless boy in front of her. His bare back facing her, with the smell of fresh coffee filling the room. She looked at the night stand beside her bed, a mug of coffee sat waiting. With a few packets of sugar and creamer.

Looking back at the bare back, everything from last night hit her. She had asked Austin to stay over. What day is it, what day is it. Her hands looked for her phone. Which she had found due to Austin handing it over to her. “Mornin.” He greeted.

“Good morning,” she croaked.

“It’s ten-thirty on a Sunday.” He told her everything she needed to know. “Made you coffee.” Rolling her eyes to the back of her head. She blinked repeatedly, as if she was trying to snap back to reality. “You look awful.” Austin commented. She scoffed at that, however she couldn’t deny this. She felt like vomiting.

“Shut up Tin head.” Getting off the bed, she grabbed his head to keep her balance from falling.

Pushing her hand away, he got up, standing beside her. Wrapping his arm around her waist to hold her, she put her arm over his waist as well. “I’ll take you to the bathroom then make you an ice bowl to wake up.” The pair stumbled to the bathroom. Aurilia almost tripping over herself repeatedly.

She kneeled over the toilet seemingly to hang onto it. He stepped back, leaving her alone if she were to throw her guts up.

Austin came back with a bowl of ice water. Aurilia dunked her head into the bowl, and he sat beside her to watch. Pulling her head out, she spat water at Austin. Who simply wiped it off calmly. Breathing like there was no tomorrow, she had looked at Austin. “Thanks Tin head,” he looked tired, but he nodded. Studying his face for a moment, she could see his eye bags, “did you sleep?”

“No.” His tone was firm. Grabbed the bowl, he poured all the water and ice out in the bathroom sink. Aurilia got off the floor, watching him walk out the bathroom to put the bowl away. She had followed behind him. Her eyes pondered after him. He slipped his black shirt on, as well as the flannel he wore last night.

“There’s no class today.” She said, sitting on her bed. “We could hang out and get you some new clothes.” Aurilia was admittedly tired of seeing her friend in the same boring clothes. Seeing him in a flannel was different, sure. Only issue was that it stunk of cigarettes.

Austin looked back at her. He couldn’t do that. Not after yesterday. It hit him like a truck that he had to call Al, after all it was the first night of selling something different. Not just that but it was Sunday, a day that was important for Al. “I can’t. I have family I need to see.”

“Can I come?”

This question took Austin back. Nobody except for Nik had met his family. He looked at her clearly, debating. “Sure.” It wouldn’t hurt. Aurilia would just have to stay in the bar.

—

Austin walked with Aurilia by his side. He seemed focus on something. Walking in front of her, their hands were intertwined. Austin wanted to hold hands with her because she was a slow walker compared to him. He took long strides, while Aurilia took short ones, causing him to walk faster each time.

He opened the door to the bar. Holding it open for her to walk through, he followed swiftly behind. “Hey Joe,” Austin pulled up in front of the bar tender who was an older gentleman.

“Your brothers in the corner.” Joe seemed to already know what the blonde was going to ask him. His head flicked forward to show where Al and Keith were. Austin pulled out five bucks from the pocket of his black sweatpants, pushing it to him. Joe took it quickly, slipping it in his pocket.

Austin turned to Aurilia. “Stay here alright?” He had a gentle tone. “Ol’ Joe will watch you. He’ll take care of you. I just gotta talk with my brothers over there.” He pointed to the table.

“Okay.” She nodded to him, confirming that she’d stay here with Joe. Watching Austin walk away, she sat down on a stool. Her eyes moved to where Austin’s brothers sat. They both didn’t look much like him. The one with blonde hair was growing a stubble, but he did have blonde hair and blue eyes. But unlike Austin’s eyes, they were a deep shade of blue. It popped out due to having such light colored skin. The other who sat beside him, also didn’t look like Austin.

As she watched, one of them had seemed to get mad. The blonde one was glaring at Austin, and she saw them flick their head towards her. Austin dipped his head, but he froze in place. For some reason, he looked terrified out of his mind. The blonde one brought out a bottle of water with another bottle of powder. Austin shook his head. His hands that were placed onto the table were frantically shaking. He was losing his mind.

Then a suitcase was pushed towards him, Austin took it without any hesitation. Right after he got up, so did the other one with black hair. He handed Austin a bag, who took it without any emotion displayed. Grabbing the back of Austin’s head they had brought him close, leaning down to whisper something. He gently pat Austin’s head after, stroking his hair. Nodding his head, Austin pulled away.

From acting terrified, he had a stoic expression. His eyes narrowed, strutting to her. He stood in front of Aurilia, holding both the bag and suitcase. “We should get going.”

As he held the door open for her. Austin looked back at Keith and Al. Al wasn’t even looking at him, but Keith kept his cold expression onto his kid brother.

—

They were back at her place. Austin put the suitcase and bag down, reaching into it. He pulled out a suit that was tailored just for him. “Were those your brothers at the bar?”

“Yes.” He had a solemn tone. “Their names are Keith and Alphonse. Alphonse is the blonde one, Keith is the black hair one.” Quickly taking his shirt off, he grabbed the black vest, swinging it over his shoulders. “Alphonse is the oldest while Keith is the second,” glancing at her as he pulled his sweatpants down to replace them with black slacks, “we’re all half brothers.” Zipping his fly up, he began buttoning up his vest. “Their mothers abandoned them so my mother took them in. Later on when I was twelve, eight years ago, our mother died.” Grabbing the silky blazer that was on Aurilia’s bed. He also quickly threw that on. Aurilia noticed how he said ‘our’ meaning that he did see his brothers as kin. Genuine real kin. “Luckily for us, Alphonse was eighteen. So we were able to stay under his eye. Keith was sixteen, I was twelve.”

“So eight years ago…” Aurilia muttered under her breath, amazed by this. He was twelve when his mother died. Now he was here, homeless. A street rat. She figured his mother’s inheritance was paying for his college. But if that was so- why didn’t Austin buy a home?

Quickly grabbing a bottle of gel. He started to do his hair, looking in the small mirror that was on Aurilia’s nightstand. He breathed in deeply. “Tell me something I don’t know.” Aurilia asked, sensing that Austin would be leaving soon.

He paused for a moment. “You can make over seven bars of soap with the human body.” He began, putting the bag and gel away. “You gotta use human fat though. It makes the best soap.”

Aurilia scowled, blinking a few times to actually process what she had just heard. Not only that, but at how casual he was about it. “How do you know that?”

“School.” He grabbed the suitcase and stared down at her as she sat on the bed. Austin was meeting up with someone in his brothers place, which was why he has dressed so fancy. It was shocking for Aurilia to see him so nice. He wore black on black. The silk blazer didn’t even look like a blazer, it looked like a jacket. His black vest was made of cotton, with a deep v neck. It was exposing half of his bare chest due to him not wearing anything underneath.

Two black bands on his left hand, one on his middle finger, the other on his ring. With a black hoop piercing on his left ear. Now that she was examining his look, she could see a scar on his left side. It went from the back of his jawline down past his chest. As if someone slashed him there.

“Do I look presentable enough.” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good— I’ll see you at the coffee shop.” He promised, tightly holding the black suitcase before he left.

—

Putting the suitcase down onto the glass countertop. He leaned over it, looking at his surroundings. He felt the gazes of many that seemed to be staring at him. A woman who was behind the counter approached him. “Hi, may I help you?”

She gained his attention immediately. He raised his brows, putting on an act. “Hi, yes. I’m here to drop something off for a man named Alphonse Butler— I’m his little brother. He couldn’t make it. So he made me take his place.” He explained.

“Oh yes!” She got out a sheet of paper just from underneath the glass counter, which was on full display. “Al called and said.. what was your name?”

“Austin Butler, ma’am.”

“Yes! Yes okay good! You are legit.” The woman seemed happy. “Can you open the suitcase please?” She had a playful tone.

“Of course, ma’am.” Without any hesitation, he grabbed the locks of the suitcase. Effortlessly flicking them up, he opened the suitcase. And he was greeted with bars of soap. Where he would sell these to the woman.

[yzeltia]

The Lost Year

Chapter 3: Pure Feeling

Characters: Hien Rijin, Y'zel Tia, the Qalli Tribe

Rating: T

Notes:

Hien smiled to himself as he watched Y’zel interact with the Qalli. While he had some formal vocal training as a boy, he didn’t have the talent to carry on like the songbirds of the Steppe; however, Y’zel seemed to be able to carry on just fine. The Miqo’te seemed to shine a bit as he sang. The doll-like stoicism had gone, and the cloud of misery that had followed over the days of travel seemed to part for a moment as the other sang along with their hosts.

Settling for the evening, he stayed by the fire near the tribe’s leader, watching Y’zel move with some of the other’s around the fire, learning dance. Remembering why he’d come, he looked to the leader and cleared his throat.

“The Ugdan of the Mol  has consulted with their deities and wish to extend their hand in friendship to the Qalli, the Ura, and the Olkund. A feast in a moon’s time in the north east, hospitality provided by them,” he sang, trying to sound cheerful.

“The Mol are fine, the Ura and Olkund too. I send our thanks and confirmation with you,” the elder sang in turn, “We shall not soon forget how you, their friend, hunted that rampant Dzo for us. Indebted we are, a simple request leaves little for us to discuss.”

Hien nodded, attention not leaving Y’zel as the Miqo’te threw his head back and opened up his arms, spinning about the fire with the Qalli before stopping and meeting his gaze. In the fire’s light, the samurai could see the other’s throat contract, swallowing as he took a step back then found himself caught up in the arms of another dancer.

“Your friend is a delight. I cannot say his kind has ever crossed my sight,” the Qalli elder mused.

“Yes, my little cat came from across the sea.”

Hien paused as the words left him, chewing on the sentiment for a moment. He had made the other his responsibility, and that implied a certain degree of responsibility. The samurai exhaled then picked up a piece of skewered Dzo meat, watching Y’zel again, now farther away, yet eyes still returning to his own. 

“Well, your friend is always welcome to travel with our tribe until the coming moon. When, with old and new friends, we’ll find ourselves commune.”

“While he can carry a tune, I think he might be a bit more of a handful than you might expect. Still, I cannot deny that he’s enjoying himself here more than I have seen him since I’ve met him. I hesitate to embark on the next leg of our journey,” Hien mused, watching Y’zel start to spin again.

“The lone prince has come to find, something other than country to occupy his mind.”

Hien waved his hand, shaking his head. “You’re reading too much into it. He’s just acting as my retainer until he’s ready to return home.”

“It seems to me, you doth protest…I…My my lord I think your friend might need to rest,” the elder sang, changing his tonality midway through as he gestured to the still spinning Miqo’te.

“Excuse me,” Hien apologized before rising to his feet and striding to grab Y’zel’s shoulders.

Y’zel tried to shake the other off, eyes watering before closing the distance between them, letting out a loud whine. Hien sighed, stroking down the other’s ears, finding all eyes on them before they erupted into a mournful song. The Miqo’te’s ears perked as the fireside’s chorus surrounded them. Coming to his senses, he looked up to the samurai then flushed before parting to give them space before fluttering his ears in thanks to his new friends.

Almost as soon as it had stopped, the music picked up again as Y’zel started to sing once more. Hien remained still, everyone moving around him once more. Encouragement for him to join was rebuffed, the samurai returning to the Qalli elder’s side.

“I am…not sure what just happened…”

“Song and melody exist to release and illustrate matters of the heart,” the elder sang solemnly, holding no rhyme for Hien this time around, "Music evokes an empathy that can be understood by all."

The prince closed his eyes, listening to mingled chorus of the tribe singing to one another. Sorrows. Joys. Unmistakable pure feelings poured behind each voice. And Y'zel's, singing of love and loss. Opening his eyes, Hien watched his companion, arms outstretched while weaving with the dancing Qalli. As he listened, he felt Y'zel seemed to be less present in the moment, dancing with the shadows more than the people that surrounded and cut in to give him the occasional spin.

         Hien watched on until the embers died down with the songs of the tribe. As Y'zel lost steam, he bade the elder goodnight then pulled his companion aside, "Let's rest, little cat."

        Y'zel simply nodded, letting the prince lead him off to where they'd been allowed to camp for the night. The Miqo'te was quiet as he helped Hien get out of his dogi. As the prince lowered himself onto their rug, Y'zel sat at his head, looking up at the moon above.

       "There's no need to keep watch," Hien yawned, resting his head on his arm.

       As the prince drifted into sleep, he didn't feel Y'zel move to rest beside him. In his final moments of lucidity, he felt his head shift upon something soft and a tender hand brush through his hair.

[arizona2004]

Like Father Like Son

Cute and kinda angsty. I had this in my drafts for a while, this request gave me a reason to finally finish it. More Batdad stuff to come eventually

WC: 1978

Your son was a mama’s boy. He followed you around constantly and hated being anywhere you weren’t. Azriel didn’t care too much at first. The baby was content in his arms, always quiet and relaxed. He didn’t smile or laugh like he did when you held him, but he never cried, so it was fine, Azriel thought.

When the boy got older, though, Az started feeling excluded. Kai’s first word was “Mama,” but that was expected. His second work was “Cas”. That pissed Azriel off. His third word wasn’t Papa, but it was “shadow,” so Az wasn’t too mad about it. 

When Kai started crawling, he crawled toward you, away from Az. Every night he wanted Mama to read him a story, so you tucked him in and kissed him on the head before bed. Az stayed in the office stewing during bedtimes. He felt out of place. Kai never wanted him to read the stories, so what was the point of standing around, useless.

Kai never seemed to want him at all so Az held his distance. And you didn’t fail to notice how Az always seemed to be working when Kai needed to be picked up from school or when he got hungry for a snack. 

On the weekends, the three of you would do things together, but the way Kai chose to sit in your lap during picnics and only wanted to be held by you cemented the idea that Kai just didn’t seem to want him around, so Az pulled away more and more, unsure what else to do. 

One afternoon, when you were picking up Kai from school, he hesitated to leave. You followed his gaze to another family: a male and female and their two kids. Your first thought was that Kai wanted a sibling, but then he looked at you and asked, “why don’t you do that?”

You’re confused by his question, trying to decipher his meaning by looking back at the female and what she’s doing until he elaborates. “Why don’t you bring, Papa?”

When you look at him again, he seems sad. He bites his lip, trying to stop it from quivering as tears well up in his eyes. “Papa’s just working, but maybe he’ll be able to come with me to pick you up tomorrow.”

“Papa’s always working,” he whispers as you take his hand and start down the sidewalk.

You don’t say anything back. What are you supposed to say? Az is always working. By the time the two of you get home, you’ve managed to cheer Kai up, but he still seems a little put off. And now that you think about it, he has been a little sad lately, but his teacher said he’s struggling to make friends, so you had assumed that was why. Until now. As you walk with Kai toward the kitchen, he slows down as you pass Az’s office.

“Do you think Papa wants to have a snack with us?” he whispers, stopping completely now. 

“I don’t know, but you can ask if you want.”

Kai turns toward the door, a nervous look on his face as he knocks quietly and opens it a little. “Papa?”

You peer in and see Az look up from some papers. He looks from Kai to you and back to Kai before speaking. “Yes?”

“Do you wanna have a snack with Mama and me?” he’s hopeful but shy.

“Sure, buddy. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You’re not coming now?” 

“I’ve just got to finish this report for Uncle Rhys, then I’ll meet you in the kitchen. One minute, I promise.”

Kai nods solemnly and closes the door before marching into the kitchen. “What snacks does Papa like to eat?” he asks you, throwing the fridge door open.

“He loves apples, just like you.”

“Perfect!” Kai pulls the bag of apples from the fridge, leaving them for you to cut while he goes to find the best things to enjoy them with. 

He comes back with Nutella and peanut butter and sits them on the table while you finish cutting the apples. A few more minutes go by, and you sit with Kai at the table. He refuses to eat until Az arrives. Another couple of minutes and you have to scream at your mate through the bond, but then he’s walking into the kitchen.

He’s rubbing his temples as though he has a headache, but he’s finally shown up. Kai perks up immediately. “Mama said you like apples! Do you like Nutella or peanut butter?”

Azriel scrunches his nose, “ugh, neither,” he grumbles and walks to the fridge, returning a second later with caramel sauce. “Caramel is much better.”

“Caramel?” Kai is confused and intrigued at the same time. He shoves the peanut butter and Nutella aside, already willing to try something new, so unlike his father. 

Az sits down beside Kai, a small smile on his face as he opens the caramel and dips an apple slice in. Kai follows right after, and the look on his face makes you burst out in laughter.

“This is wonderful!”

Az laughs at your son's enthusiasm and grabs another apple slice. The three of you enjoy the rest of the snack together, and Azriel even joins Kai as he plays around the yard, giving you time to catch up on some of the work you’ve been behind in doing.

When the evening comes to a close, though, and the boys come inside, Az seems to pull back. Kai takes a bath after ending the day covered in dirt and grass, and Azriel stays with him the whole time as he chats about all his bath toys, but as soon as he’s in pajamas and ready for bed, your mate quiets down and starts drifting into the shadows.

“Are you going to join us for story time?” you try.

“No, that’s alright. I have to go check on something for Rhys,” he says before winnowing away, not that you see it directly, you’re too focused on the disappointed look on your son's face. 

“Maybe he’ll join us for bedtime tomorrow,” you tell him, tucking him into bed. 

“He doesn’t have to read if he doesn’t wanna. I don’t like reading out loud in front of people either,” Kai confides, bringing a smile to your face. “He could just sit and tuck me in if he wanted. And give me a goodnight squeeze.”

“I’ll relay your message, Kai.”

“Good! Then maybe he’ll tuck me in tomorrow.” You nod in agreement, kissing Kai on the head before slipping out the door to find your mate. 

*

“You’re going to pick Kai up from school tomorrow,” you tell Azriel, arms crossed over your chest. Az looks up, confused, so you elaborate. “Today, when I picked him up, he was looking at another family, and he asked why I don’t bring you to get him too. You haven’t been around much, Az. He barely knows you, and I didn’t realize until today, but now that I have, I won’t let you do this anymore.”

“Y/N-”

“No, don’t. You’re coming with me to get him from school tomorrow, and you’re going to put him to bed too.”

“I can’t-” he starts.

“And why the hell not, Az?”

“He doesn’t want me there.”

“Azriel.” He refuses to meet your eyes, and suddenly you feel blind looking at your mate. First, you missed all of the signs in your son about his feelings toward Azriel, and now you're just now noticing how Azriel feels out of place in your family.

Tears well up behind your eyes, but you shove them down and move toward your mate. “Look at me Azriel,” you plead, grabbing his chin and forcing his gaze up as you lean against the desk in front of him. “Kai loves you. He wants to spend time with you. Even if that’s just you sitting by his side as I read his bedtime story or just giving him a hug and a kiss on the head.”

Tears slip from Azriel's eyes, and you gently wipe them away before placing a kiss on his forehead and leaning yours to his. “The two of you are terrible at sharing your thoughts and feelings with one another, and I don’t know where it started because he’s only five.” Azriel smiles softly, pulling you into his lap. “You can’t expect me to be the middle man forever.”

“I don’t,” he promises, kissing you softly and nuzzling your neck.

“Good.”

“I’ll make things right. I promise.”

*

The next day, Azriel goes with you to get Kai from school, and as your son notices you after exiting the building, he beams, beyond happy to see his father. He skips toward the pair and you and throws himself into Az’s arms.

“Carry me, Papa!” he shouts, throwing his arms around Azriel's neck, clinging on as tightly as he can. “Time to go home,” Kai declares, “We have to work on building a battleship.”

“Well, we’re not going home just yet,” Az tells him, confusing you.

“I was thinking we could go get ice cream.” Az looks to you for confirmation, trying to make sure you’re okay with this change in plans.

You nod, of course, happy he’s taking the initiative to do something with Kai. The three of you walk further into Velaris toward your favorite ice cream shop and spend the afternoon enjoying sugary deliciousness. Kai can’t stop smiling all afternoon and stays close to Az, pressing into his side while they sit side by side on a park bench and eat their ice cream. 

You can’t help but watch them and memorize the scene. And a moment later, call out to Feyre with your mind and beg her to paint the memory for you. She obliges, always happy to paint the people she loves. You and your boys begin the walk back to your house, happier than any of you have been in a while. 

Later in the evening, as you help Kai finish getting ready for bed, you ensure Az is around and shove him into the plush chair beside your son’s bed. As Kai skips from the bathroom to his bed, before Azriel has the chance to say anything, you sigh dramatically.

“Uncle Rhys just called and said he needs me for something important. Is it okay if Papa puts you to bed tonight?” you ask your son. He nods before running into your arms to hug you tightly.

“Night, night!” he says, jumping into his bed and wiggling under the blankets.

Az gives you a slightly panicked look, but you just run to the door and gently shut it behind you as Kai tries to convince his father to read him 5 books instead of just 2 that you usually allow.

Azriel's heart softens in his chest as his son looks at him from beneath a cocoon of blankets. “One more, Papa, pleeaasse,” he begs.

“I already read you six books.” Kai pouts, tempting Az, but the spymaster holds his ground and stands up, his butt numb.

“Ugh, fine!” the boy relents, holding out his arms for his father to hug. Azriel squeezes him tightly and places a kiss on his head as he tucks the blankets into his sides. “Can you just stay until I fall asleep, Papa?” Kai pleads, pulling out his pouty face again.

Azriel gives in easily, walking to the door to turn off the light before returning to Kai’s side. The toddler scootches as far to one side as he can, making as much room for his father as he can. Azriel lays down next to his son, opening his arms for Kai to tuck himself into Az’s side, absorbing the warmth of his body as he’s lulled into a deep sleep by the sound of his father’s soft singing.