#let us quietly post this and forget about it post-haste

[lalal-99]

My Favourite Workout {s.c.}

©February 2023 by lalal-99

Changbin x afab!reader | trope: established relationship, shower sex | smut | wordcount: 6.2k

Synopsis: Your boyfriend has been working his butt off the past few weeks. It's only fair of you to offer some of your time up so you can spend it together, doing something you love. Or he does anyways. You're not really a fan of gyms in general, but the private gym at his workplace sure has its perks.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

smut tags: dom-ish!changbin | oral (fem. receiving) | unprotected vaginal sex (don't do at home) | gym sex | multiple orgasms | shower sex | multiple positions | implied edging | lots of aftercare | let me know if I missed anything

Note: This sat in my drafts for over a year, but it turned out pretty good in the end. Gym-Changbin got a strong grip on me...

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig@itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @joonghands@changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @babybabydoll

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This was so not what you had expected from a gym. Crowds of bulked-up people, sweaty seats, and overpriced protein shakes – that’s what you were used to. You hadn’t been to that many gyms, but you had seen a fair share of them in your lifetime. And this was so far from anything you had witnessed before.

Instead of bad music and half-naked people you wanted to know nothing about, there was silence. And him.

The man sitting a few metres ahead – toned upper body clad in a tight muscle shirt, thick thighs in a pair of loose hanging shorts – was a feast for the eyes. With every pull he did on the exercising machine, dragging the black metal bar lower before bringing the weights to the ground again, his arms flexed. Every contraction of his muscles below his thin shirt was palpable, so deliciously inviting you to bury your teeth in them.

Had you known before, it was gonna be just the two of you in this one-roomed, private gym, you probably wouldn’t have gone. You barely moved anyway as the cross-trainer you had previously used rested quietly below you, your eyes focused on the beautiful man in front of you. How could you have done anything with him right in your eyesight, distracting you from what you usually did in a gym? An hour-long basic workout before swearing never to do one again.

It took Changbin a minute to notice your glances, but when he did, he casually got up, a smirk plastered on his face as he made his way towards you. He took one of his earphones out, his eyes meeting yours as she placed his muscular arms on the handles of your cross-trainer.

“You know this won’t move by itself, right?” Changbin asked, pointing at the machine below you. You rolled your eyes at his comment, stepping down from the trainer.

“I know, but this is so boring,” you told him honestly as you dried the non-existent sweat from your forehead with the towel you had brought. “I only came here with you today, anyways, because we haven’t spent an hour of quality time in two weeks.”

With your boyfriend working overtime at the studio so close to the release of their newest album, you had barely seen him, let alone spent time with him. For the past two weeks, he had left for work before you got up and only came home after his daily workout when you were already half-asleep on the couch.

Obviously, you didn’t blame Changbin. He loved his work, and being one of the producers for his very own band, he usually had to walk the extra mile. You knew and had always known it wouldn’t be easy. Your relationship needed constant work so you wouldn’t forget about each other in the haste of each day.

This was the exact reason why you had decided to join your boyfriend in the gym tonight. It was your way of showing him you weren’t just complaining but doing something to make it work. And you knew he appreciated your extra effort whenever he couldn’t give a hundred percent.

“We’re spending time right now, aren’t we?”

“I wouldn’t call us working out in different corners of this room ‘spending time together’,” you replied with a huff.

Changbin had been listening to music since you had stepped into JYPE’s private gym just a few floors below his studio. You knew he replayed whatever song they had produced that day while working out afterwards. It was Changbin’s way of clearing his head while also thinking of changes they needed to make in the melody or rhythm.

Still, you wouldn’t have complained about him talking to you or at least not ignoring you, caught up in his daily routine. Your relationship shouldn’t be routine anyways.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Changbin finally agreed as he took the second earplug out. With a swift motion, he put them into the little container, storing them in his pocket. “How about we finish the rest of the workout with no distractions, alright?”

“The rest of the workout?” you questioned in disbelief. “You mean you’re not finished?”

After an hour in the gym, you were convinced Changbin must have been as tired of it as you were. Even if you hadn’t done much actual working out, you could still tell you’d feel the effect of it tomorrow.

“Just another 30 minutes. Tops,” Changbin promised with a smile as he pointed at one machine behind him. “You wanna try something less boring?”

“Fine,” you gave in as you followed him to the device. You would already be sore the next day, so why not give yourself an extra push. “How does this work?”

“You sit on here,” your boyfriend guided you to the seat of the training equipment, “and you place your legs on either side of these pads.”

You followed his instructions one by one, placing your legs outside of two cushions attached to metal bars, eventually leading to the main body of the machine.

“And now what?” you questioned as you looked up at Changbin.

“Well, you’re gonna press your thighs together. But first, you put weight onto them. How much do you want? Like 5 kilos?” The teasing smile on his lips earned him an eye roll as it told you 5 kilos weren’t much.

“Funny.” The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you looked back at the weights variety the machine offered. It went from 5 to 90 kilos in steps of five. You were aware you shouldn’t start with the highest setting, though you didn’t want to start with the lowest either. “Give me like 20.”

“I don’t know, babe. You think you can handle that?”

Honestly, you didn’t believe that to be a lot of weight. 20 kilos? That’s like a dog or a five-year-old child. Although Changbin’s expression told you differently, you were sure you could take that much.

“I know you think I’m just your weak girlfriend. But I’m very capable of making those sorts of decisions for myself.” You didn’t intend it to come out as harsh as it did, seeing your boyfriend was merely trying to help you. Still, you didn’t appreciate him suggesting, you weren’t strong enough.

“Fine, don’t listen to me. But don’t you complain about your legs tomorrow. I won’t carry you around the house just because you didn’t believe me,” Changbin eventually agreed, setting the weight to your wishes. “Is this good?”

As you pressed your knees towards each other, effectively lifting the weight you had chosen, you realised you had messed up. You hadn’t known 20 kilos to put that much pressure onto your untrained legs when you could easily carry them with your arms. One of your nephews weighed about that much, and he was no difficulty for you.

Obviously, you couldn’t let Changbin know he had been right. After the scene you had just caused, you couldn’t acknowledge you were wrong, and actually weren’t capable of making those decisions for yourself.

“Yup.” You forced a smile onto your lips as you felt your abdominal muscles clench at the pain. It was almost impossible to control your facial expressions when you wanted to scream and curl into a ball instead. “Get back to your workout, babe. I’m fine, really.”

With a shake of his head, and a chuckle leaving his lips, Changbin turned around to head back to his previous workout. The second you were out of his sight, you stopped moving, feeling the burn in your every fibre already. Your legs were shaking as you silently breathed through the sting, picking the movement back up the second Changbin sat down. Unfortunately, he was facing you, so you couldn’t have merely pretended to be doing the exercise.

Your boyfriend picked up his previous routine, his arms finding the metal bar above his head as he started pulling it towards himself. You didn’t know exactly how much weight he had put onto his machine, but you guessed it was about 60 kilos. It was around three times what you were currently pressing between your legs, and still, he looked almost calm doing it. Obviously, you knew your boyfriend was fit – you saw him naked every day – but this was impressive, nevertheless.

You tried your best to concentrate on anything but your thighs, your eyes finding him after a few more squeezes. Changbin threw you a sweet smile as your teeth caught your lower lip. Looking at his buff arms only distracted you for so long, and you already felt you wouldn’t last much longer. Still, you didn’t think about giving up.

As you kept pushing yourself through the pain, you silently counted every press your legs did. Reaching ten presses after a minute, you decided it to be good enough for your first round. The second your legs stopped squeezing, an unintentional sigh left your lips as you felt your muscles relax. So far, so good.

With your head thrown back and your eyes pressed shut, you tried regaining your composure. You were so occupied with catching a grip on reality you didn’t even recognise Changbin was staring at you. You looked up at him only when you heard his weights hit the ground. He had barely gotten to 15 pulls, and you knew for a fact that this couldn’t be it. He must have had a lot more in him than just that.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned your boyfriend in confusion. Your hands came from the handles at your sides to your face as you dragged them across your skin. That you were already sweating after just a minute of actual working out couldn’t have been a good sign.

“You have got to be kidding me.” As Changbin shook his head in disbelief, your eyes wandered down his body to his hand positioned in his lap. You were trying to find the reason for his sudden reaction, and it took you a few seconds to realise how his hand wasn’t simply resting in his crotch. It pressed against it, trying to control the growing bulge under the thin fabric.

“Do you…” Your voice trailed off as a smile appeared on your face. With your hand covering your mouth, you tried hiding it, though you weren’t doing a good job. “Do you have a boner?”

“It’s not my fault,” Changbin reasoned as his eyes slid over your exposed legs towards your face. “It’s you!”

“What did I do? I’m just sitting here,” you explained as-a-matter-of-factly. You hadn’t done anything to turn him on, at least not intentionally.

“Yeah. Legs spread, making your sex noises.”

Your mouth opened at his accusation, your legs swinging over the cushions so you could close them. They were still quivering from the previous weighted movement, so you ran your hands over them, massaging the muscle.

“I’m not making sex noises,” you exclaimed, somewhat offended. No way in hell were the sounds you had made while pressing 20 kilos with your legs were the same ones you made when the two of you were together.

“You sure are. You’ve been moaning the whole time. And now you’re touching yourself, which isn’t any better,” Changbin pointed out, his eyes pinned on your hand running over your thigh. His words made you stop as you tried to terminate anything that might have caused his discomfort. It made you proud how it hadn’t taken much work to get him aroused, though you wouldn’t have disclosed that to him under any circumstance. “Also, we haven’t had sex in about three weeks.”

“And that’s my fault? How, exactly?”

With Changbin in the studio and you working all day, there had only been a few chances for the two of you to get some sexy time. And when such rare opportunities occurred, either you had been too tired, or he had been too sore. If he really wanted to blame you for the lack of intimacy, he couldn’t take himself out of the equation.

“It’s not.” A sigh left Changbin’s lips as she took the towel from beside him to put it over his crotch. “Let’s just get back to the workout, okay? I’m sure it will be gone in a few minutes.”

As your boyfriend stretched his arms to get a hold on the handles of the exercising machine above him, his tight shirt rid up his body a bit. It revealed his stomach below it for only a second, but you caught it anyway. Once he dragged the bar down the first time, your eyes immediately came to his bulky arms.

When you had met Changbin a few years earlier, he hadn’t yet achieved those as he hadn’t started working out as much.

You hadn’t fallen for him because of the way he could pick you up or spin you around as though you were a mannequin rather than a human being. You had fallen for Changbin because of his character, the way he could make you smile or laugh with only a few words. That he had gotten so muscular over the past two years was merely an extra which you didn’t mind. Frankly, you would have loved him with or without the few kilos of extra beef.

Still, you couldn’t help yourself wanting to touch him, lick him, or anything really. Nothing was off the table with the two of you, and even though your boyfriend was sweaty at the moment, you couldn’t help wanting to be closer to him. It became apparent at that moment that he wasn’t the only one riled up by the lack of sexual activity over the past few weeks.

“You know, there are quicker ways to get rid of an erection than waiting.” The words had left your mouth before you could think again about offering to help him out.

Changbin swiftly set the weights down again, his hands resting on his thick thighs as he looked at you with a smirk. Obviously, he understood what you were trying to say immediately.

“Are you serious? Here? A public place?”

Frankly, you hadn’t done many spicy things outside your own four walls, but there were first times for everything. Also, you weren’t sure you could wait to get home, wanting to pull those clothes off your boyfriend asap.

It was late anyway, and when you had come to pick him up from the studio, the whole building was pretty much empty. Right now, you thanked the lord that Chan had a dinner scheduled with his girlfriend. It gave you the perfect opportunity for some one-on-one time with your boyfriend.

“Sure. I mean, who’s gonna catch us? JYP?”

When Changbin realised you were right, that no one was there to catch you, he instantly lifted himself up. With a hurried sweep, he grabbed his towel and water bottle before making his way to you, his hand casually catching yours.

“Why are we still here then? Let’s go!”

A giggle left your lips at your boyfriend’s eagerness, the kiss he planted on your lips in excitement lasting only a second or two.

“Wait, my water bottle!” It still sat by the cross-trainer, long forgotten. There would have been plenty time to get it, but apparently, Changbin had other plans.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

As Changbin dragged you from the gym to the changing rooms just a few doors down, you checked the halls one last time, making sure no one was around. When you realised everything was quiet, you bit your lip in anticipation.

The second you had reached the room, Changbin opened the door impatiently, pulling you inside. He closed the door behind you with a loud thud, and you found yourself pressed against the cold material instantly.

“This is so exciting,” your boyfriend pointed out before his lips met yours in an eager kiss. You could taste the sweat on his upper lip, though you couldn’t have cared less. Changbin’s strong hands instantly came to your waist, keeping you in place as his hip pressed into yours hungrily. “Let’s take this off, shall we?” A second later, your shirt was off you as Changbin’s hands came up to cup your breasts over the fabric of your sports bra.

“Do you like it? I bought it last week,” you questioned as Changbin eyed the white material.

“I do. I’d like it more if you took it off, though.”

“Sure. You first.”

With a smirk still plastered on his face, your boyfriend’s hands came to the hem of his shirt as he pulled it over his head. You bit your lip at the view, your mouth watering at the sight of his delicious peck muscles. Apart from his arms, they were probably your favourite extra.

“Your turn!” Changbin said before you could even think about touching him. You could get to that later, anyway. “And take off the shoes.”

Without as much as a hint of hesitation, you slipped out of your new clothing item and your sneakers, leaving you in only your pants and panties. Changbin followed suit, kicking his shoes and socks away as he came closer to you again.

His hands found yours as he pressed them against the door beside your head so you couldn’t move them. His body flushed against you was enough to declare you officially trapped.

When Changbin’s lips found yours again, his tongue instantly connecting with yours, he ground his hips into you, effectively making you sigh into him. You could feel him grinning against your mouth.

“I might have been wrong before. Your sex noises are way better than your workout noises,” Changbin pointed out. “They’re like music to my ears.”

“Maybe you should make a song out of them. This way, you can listen to me while working out.”

“Tempting- but I’d rather not get a boner while working out with Chan. This-” Rutting his hips into yours, you felt his erection more prominent than before. “This is for you and for you only.”

“Good.”

Your boyfriend’s lips met yours again, this time slightly rougher as he evidently attempted to move things along. Soon enough, his tongue met your neck as he sucked on the skin, causing another whimper to leave you. After years of being together, he clearly knew all your buttons by heart.

As Changbin reached your breast, your moaning turned into groaning, the frustration reaching a new high. His mouth engulfed your nipple, lightly grazing it with his teeth before he let his tongue run over it. The arching of your back was the only indication he needed to know his advances caused the wanted impact on you.

When his hands ran down your arms and to your waist, you felt goosebumps rise all over your body as a rush of blood went to your core. You had always loved how your boyfriend could turn you to mush at his hands, especially now that you had seen him work out. All the strength in his arms didn’t change how carefully he handled you; as though you’d break under too much pressure.

Your hands came to Changbin’s hair as he kissed all over your chest, entangling with the bundle as you closed your eyes and threw your head back at the pleasure. Only when he went further down, eventually landing on his knees – like you weren’t turned on enough already, making your heart skip a few beats – did you look down at him.

A smile spread on your lips as you knew what was coming.

“These,” Changbin’s hands came around your thighs as she slapped one of them hungrily, “make me go crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about burying my head between them when you were doing that exercise earlier. And I do think we should get one of those exercise machines for our house. Just so we can misuse it. Every. Single. Day.”

With those words, Changbin started dragging your shorts down your legs, effectively taking your panties off with them. You quickly swiped them away with your foot so they wouldn’t get in the way of things.

“I think there are machines for that exact use. Why don’t we get one of those?” You couldn’t deny the thought exciting you. Smaller toys had been part of your love life since the beginning, but never something as massive as this.

“And I think I absolutely fucking love you.”

Without another second of hesitation, Changbin buried his head between your thighs, his tongue licking a rough strip up your folds. It made your legs quiver as you pulled at his hair. You were still pretty beat from your previous workout so that your legs were almost giving out beneath you was no surprise. Especially when your boyfriend made you feel so good on top of everything.

One of his arms kept you spread for him as his other came around your thigh, lifting it up and over his shoulder. It gave him much better access so his second hand could wander around your body, keeping you in place at your spine.

Changbin’s tongue ran along your entrance a couple times, dipping in only slightly before precisely meeting your nub. It sent shock waves down your back as he knew exactly how you liked it. He soon tilted his head, eyes closing as he seemed to enjoy this as much as you did. Perhaps even more.

The way he ate you out, fast – almost maliciously so – you knew you wouldn’t last for too long. That, paired with the excitement about someone possibly walking in on you at any given time, took you straight to cloud nine. Sure, you hadn’t noticed anyone before, but that didn’t mean no one was actually around.

When Changbin’s teeth came into play, lightly running over your nub every few licks, a loud cry escaped your throat. You bucked your hips into him involuntarily, the knee currently not resting on his shoulder quivering heavily. Had he not held you by your leg, you would have fallen to your knees at the pleasure running through your system. Changbin seemed to notice how difficult it was for you to concentrate on anything but the pain in your leg, quickly deciding to help you out.

You were used to having one of your legs positioned over your boyfriend’s shoulder, opening up possibilities for him to reach deeper – better. So, when Changbin pulled your second leg up, pulling it over his other shoulder, you were more than just stunned. In the new position, one you had never tried before – you fully sitting on his shoulders – a whole different set of possibilities opened up.

That Changbin could even carry you like this, all your weight pressing onto him, was a miracle. Sure, he benched more than your weight and probably pulled just as much, but this was still different. You weren’t dead weight like the metal sitting only rooms away; you’re a human. It was you and every kilo you brought to the table.

Your surprise and fear for your boyfriend’s well-being were swiftly overshadowed when you noticed just how much he enjoyed this new position. It gave him total control over your body, where to put you and how to bend you. And that control, he used to both your advantages.

As your back was pressed against the cold metal of the door, your hands automatically came to Changbin’s hair, pulling on it as he dove in deeper. His hands by your spine pushed you closer against him as you feared he might suffocate. He couldn’t have possibly gotten the necessary oxygen in this seemingly uncomfortable position. And, still, it didn’t impact his action as much as you had anticipated. It might have even spurred him on further.

His humming vibrated through your whole body, sending shock waves to every fibre of your being. You couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling, noticing the smirk against your core once he heard. One of his hands left your spine to slap your butt as he started massaging it, only encouraging you to be less cautious of the noise leaving your body.

Changbin’s second hand snuck around your body, running up your stomach and towards your breast, stroking it roughly as his fingers ran over your nipple. This, paired with his second hand on your butt and his mouth on your core, made you shiver and twitch against him. His tongue lapping at your juices, so precisely meeting every tiny spot between your legs, brought you close as fast as barely before.

“Fuck,” you sobbed once the tip of his muscle ran down to your hole, fucking inside hastily. It certainly wasn’t long enough to reach every spot within you, but it felt great, nonetheless. So much so that you could have stayed like this forever.

For all you cared, Changbin could have eaten you out like this the whole night. Though you doubted it would be enough to finish either of you.

So, when Changbin slowly and ever-so-carefully set your legs back onto the ground, his mouth leaving your heat, you weren’t mad. As your legs quivered on either side of him, he came up from the floor, standing right in front of you as he leaned in for a long, somewhat innocent kiss.

“We’re so gonna do that more often,” Changbin breathed against your lips as a smirk spread on his. “I’ll get undressed. Meet you in the shower?”

All you could muster was a nod as you shakily started making your way towards the shower cubicles. Finding your ass in a slap as you moved, you jerked forward in unexpectedness.

“Sorry, my hand slipped.” The smirk on his face told you otherwise, though you naturally ignored the comment as you continued your path further back.

The moment you found yourself under the warm water, the liquid running through your hair and down your body, you felt yourself relax. The jets softly massaged your back and the muscles which had gotten so tense from leaning against the metal door for too long, causing a few moans to slip out of your mouth.

It wasn’t until you felt a presence behind you that you came back from your trance, the thick fingers around your waist causing a smile to spread on your face.

“I hope the shower isn’t making you feel better than I do...” Voice trailing off, Changbin’s lips came to your neck, running along the vein at the side. You moaned at the feeling, even more relaxing than the shower itself, a smile spreading on his lips. “I take that as a ‘no’.”

With his hands running up your body, fingering over your perked nipples, you arched your back against his front. His arousal became unmistakably clear to you when you felt him poke one of your ass cheeks. You bit your lip at the sensation, proud of your effect on his body.

His tongue ran over your neck, down your left shoulder and over to your right as his hands softly massaged your breast. The shower jets only added to the sensation, your head soon thrown to the side to give Changbin better access to your earlobe. He twirled it between his teeth, growling in your ear as you continuously pushed your ass against him.

“Fuck, you’re so hot like this.” Smiling at your words, you tried turning around to kiss him, though his strong arms prevented any unapproved movement. “Stay like this. Perfectly still for me to touch and do as I please. You like that, don’t you?”

Humming in answer, Changbin ran one hand down your spine, thumb pressing into your muscles on either side. When he reached your butt, he grabbed one of your cheeks, pulling it to the side before letting it slap back against the other. He did the same thing to the other, his hand reaching even deeper, running two fingers through your folds to test your wetness. It made you moan loudly, the sound echoing from the tiled walls. To neither of your surprise, you were drenched.

“Ready, baby?”

You merely nodded, forming words impossible at this point. Not with how much need was radiating from your every pore.

Putting your hands against the wall in front of you, you leaned forward to give him better access. With one of his hands pressing against your lower back, the other guiding him towards your entrance, it took him less than 5 seconds to enter you, bottoming inside you.

“Mhm…”

“Feel good, baby?” Changbin pulled you back against his chest, slipping out just a tad at the movement. You agreed with a nod, hands reaching back to touch his hips.

“Move- please.”

Chuckling at your attempt to talk, Changbin tilted your head to the side with two fingers, kissing the corner of your mouth before slowly pulling out and plunging himself back in. “I fucking love you. Did I tell you that?”

His length dragged deliciously against your swollen walls in this position, meeting that spot inside you every time. It took him a few seconds to find a rhythm before his hips settled at snapping against yours in perfect timing with your breathing. At first, at least.

A few minutes into it, Changbin sped up, your hands coming from your side – holding onto his at your waist – to the wall in front of you. You needed to stabilise yourself in some way, his forceful thrusts sending you straight to heaven. He took a step forward to keep reaching deep inside, your back arching for comfort. It also helped you focus on not coming already.

“Fuck, if you keep clenching like this...”

Changbin didn’t end his sentence, but you understood him perfectly anyway. Knowing he wasn’t doing any better than you calmed you down, your walls relaxing slightly. It sent you closer quicker, but you knew he wasn’t far behind, so it was alright.

Soon enough, one of his hands reached around your body again, twisting your nipples once before travelling down your front. How he even had a head for helping you out when he was so close himself was beyond you. Your head started spinning when two of his fingers met your nub, roughly circling the flesh.

Letting your head hang slack in front of you, you squeezed your eyes shut at the sensation, the water running down your back only adding to it. You started twitching against him, your body leaving your control at his skilled technique. All you could do was hold onto the wall, trying to relieve some tension by dragging your fingers against the tiles. Your knuckles soon turned white, your head dizzy, and your sight blurry once Changbin angled his hips to reach your spot.

“Fuck-”

Your body started shaking at the approach of your inevitable release, Changbin pulling you flash against him. His arm wrapped around your front, keeping you stable against him as your hands reached back to grab him. With his head back at the side of your head, kissing your skin and attempting to give some momentum to the moment, you grabbed his hair, pulling lightly as the high came crashing over you.

Spasming against him, loud moans escaping your mouth like a waterfall, Changbin held you as close as possible, guiding you through it. He slowed down his thrusts for a few seconds, fingers circling your nub at a less demanding pace. His touch never stopped, simply helping you through the high but not letting you calm down just yet.

“That was so hot, baby,” Changbin whispered in your ear before picking up the pace of his hips and fingers. It sent you right back to the white-gazed, world-spinning high you hadn’t had the chance to come down from. “You think you can do it again?”

“I don’t-” your words were cut off when he sped up, going even harder and faster than he did earlier. The overstimulation set in soon enough, your mouth hanging slack as whimpers tumbled over your tongue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Just like that, baby. Come for me again!”

How you did it, you wouldn’t have been able to tell with a gun to your head. You had never come a second time this quick after your first time. Until now, that was.

Maybe it was how well Changbin knew your body, being able to coax orgasm after orgasm out of you at a speed that could have been world record worthy. Maybe, it was the whole ‘people might walk in on you any second’-situation. You didn’t have the head to care as you kept spasming against his front, feeling him release with a groan in your ear.

You rode out both your highs in about a minute, his movement never stopping but calming down with every second until he finally stopped. Changbin didn’t withdraw just yet, though he took the opportunity of complete calmness to press a soft kiss against your cheek.

Still catching your breath after two back-to-back orgasms, you merely smiled at his sweet action, hands holding onto him behind you.

“That-” Changbin cut himself off, also trying to get his breathing under control. It took him a few moments, but then he pulled out of you, spinning you around on wobbly legs. Kissing you for the first time in what felt like hours, you felt yourself reaching earth again after being sent to heaven twice in a matter of seconds. “The single, most hottest thing you ever did.”

“‘t wasn’t me. All you.”

That you still couldn’t speak properly further proved just how high up he had brought you. Changbin chuckled at your attempt to talk, forehead pressing against yours as you started feeling his release dribble down your leg. Good thing you were already in the shower, or else it would have made a complete mess.

“Let’s settle on team effort.” You giggled at his words, feeling your eyes and legs giving out on you. Had it not been for Changbin’s hands at your sides, you would have collapsed already. “You tired, baby?”

You didn’t need to answer that question as your boyfriend slowly guided you to the floor, helping you settle against the wall. The water was still running over your body as he disappeared for a few seconds. When he came back, he had shower gel, shampoo, and your sports bra with you, so you wouldn’t have to sit on the cold floor and risk catching a UTI. After that workout, you wouldn’t be needing it tonight anyway.

Turning your back to him, Changbin squeezed some of the shampoo onto his fingers before bringing them to your hair, softly spreading it over your scalp. The touch felt like magic, pumping energy back into your body. Same with the shower gel, which Changbin massaged into your back once he was done with your hair. You moaned at the feeling, your muscles relaxing at his perfectly calm touch.

Changbin always found ways to take ‘aftercare’ to a whole nother level.

“You good to walk? Or do you want me to carry you?”

“I can walk,” you told him, getting off the floor. Your legs were still pretty unstable, shaking under your weight. As though you hadn’t learned to walk yet.

“Okay, Bambi. Let me help you.” Swept off your feet, Changbin carried you out of the shower stalls and back into the changing area. You giggled in his arms, time and time again surprised by his strength. He almost made it look like you weighed nothing.

Wrapping you in a towel, Changbin left you for maybe a minute to clean himself. It gave you time to calm down further, your head and body almost completely back to normal once he came back into the room. As he dried himself off, you couldn’t help your wandering eyes running over his body. A real sight for the Gods, your boyfriend was.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, much to Changbin’s surprise. His eyebrows drew together, confusion taking over his face as he came closer, the towel hanging dangerously loose around his waist.

“What for?”

“You couldn’t finish your workout because of me.”

In your head, you knew he didn’t mind. Still, you felt bad you hadn’t let him finish off his routine because of your arousal. And, frankly, your unwillingness to work out even a minute longer.

“You’re a little stupid-head, you know that?” Changbin asked in amusement, playfully shoving your head as he seated himself next to you. “I’d do you over a workout anytime.” He kissed you lightly, tongue brushing against your lower lip for only a second before he pulled away. “Now, turn around, so I can get changed.”

You laughed at his demand, putting your hands over your eyes, fingers spread apart as far as possible.

“Eyes are closed. Go ahead!”

Changbin laughed at your action, a few emotions written on his face simultaneously. Though, it didn’t take much of you to recognise the main one. “Fuck, I don’t think I can love you more than right now.”

And he meant it.

Masterlist Leave feedback!

#seo changbin fanfic #changbin smut #changbin x reader #changbin hard thoughts #changbin hard hours #changbin scenarios #changbin x y/n #changbin x you #changbin drabbles #changbin fanfic #seo changbin smut #seo changbin hard thoughts #seo changbin hard hours #seo changbin scenarios #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin x y/n #seo changbin x you #seo changbin drabbles #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz smut #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts

[hecatemoon87]

CHAPTER FIVE

Masterlist

When Eddie was escorted back to his room, he found James sitting by the fire, staring intently into its flames. James did not bother to stand when Eddie entered.

"You were gone awhile," James said, looking at the fire.

"Yeah, uh, I...I did what she wanted."

That made James look over at him in surprise. "You took her to bed?"

Eddie nodded and walked over to sit opposite of James. He rested his head on the back of the chair and sighed.

"And?" James asked impatiently.

"She's a little fire cracker, sexy and good in bed," Eddie said.

"Brother of mine...I meant the fucking godhood thing," James said, though he hadn't minded learning that the beautiful Queen was a vixen between the sheets.

"Oh, no, of course not. I mean, still me," Eddie said, gesturing both hands over himself.

"Bloody hell, then does she now understand that she's insane? That we should be released?"

"She's not insane," Eddie said sternly.

"You're not actually defending her? Her army demolished ours! She is the enemy, brother!" James hissed.

Eddie scoffed. He hated that even though they were twins, James always acted like the older brother. It was his way or no way.

"Yes, I'm aware, I was there. All I'm saying is she isn't insane. She could be reasoned with. We can proceed with the escape plan...or we could try talking with her again."

"No, we tried that already. We leave tonight," James said firmly and stood up to walk to the only window in the room. It was barred, but he could still see the snow crusted landscape and the setting sun.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the palace...

Ravina stormed into her grandmother's room. "I slept with Prince Eddie, and nothing happened!" Ravina said upset.

Nashwa had been reading and carefully closed her book. She held her granddaughter in her gaze for a moment before speaking. "My dear child, of course that wouldn’t work. You seem to be forgetting the prophecy. You must lay with them both."

"Fine! But if I take James into my bed and nothing happens I am done with this ridiculous prophecy!" Ravina shouted.

Nashwa smiled sadly. "No, my dear. You must be with both men at the same time. Otherwise, the ritual will not take."

Ravina stared at her grandmother in disbelief. "Both? At the same time?"

Nashwa chuckled. "If I were young once more and had such an opportunity with those two men, I would not hesitate. You say you laid with Prince Eddie? I'd assume he's an excellent lover?"

"Oh, by the love of Thor! I am not having a conversation about sex again with my grandmother!" Ravina said, shaking her head and exiting the room post haste.

Nashwa smiled to herself and returned to reading.

The time was now midnight, and James and Eddie had successfully incapacitated the guards who had stood outside their chamber.

They removed the guards' tunics and slipped them over their own clothing. Then they donned the guards' armor, allowing them to move freely through the palace. They exited toward the direction of the prison where they had seen their countrymen taken.

"There, up ahead," James said to Eddie as they caught sight of the prison.

"Right, change shift with the guards, break out the lads, and return home. Let's hope the weather keeps," Eddie said.

After they entered the prison, it took a moment to ensure that the other guards in that sector were out of earshot.

Though they replaced the two men who stood watch over the prison block where Eddie and James' men were being held prisoner, they needed to move quickly and quietly.

Upon seeing their princes, the men grew excited. "You're still alive!" Geri exclaimed, a cousin to Eddie and James.

"Yes, and we'd like to keep it that way, so keep quiet," James said as he unlocked the prison door.

"We head toward WolfBlood tonight. All of us, take what you can, it will be a hard journey due to the blizzards," Eddie said to the men as they treaded carefully down a hallway that led to the other side of the prison.

"There, the back exit. Let's go," James said, pointing at a large iron door.

The men filtered out one by one, each keeping their eyes open for unaccounted guards. Keeping low, they made their way back to the palace as the forest opened up behind its walls.

"There's the forest line. But we need provisions. Eddie and I will go back to the palace stables. If we don't return in fifteen minutes, leave without us," James said.

As quickly as the princes could, they back tracked to the stables within the palace walls. Still in their guard uniforms, they were confident they would not be spotted.

But as they entered the stables, a woman was within brushing a horse. She glanced up, it was the Queen. It took her a moment to realize they weren't guards.

"How...?" She began to say, but then the peeling of an alarm bell rippled through the air.

"Yeah, no time to talk, we'll be needing that horse," James said, quickly approaching her.

She immediately stood her ground and punched him hard in the chest. James' armor absorbed most the impact and he grabbed her arm, shoving her back.

"Bastard!" She hissed and tried to strike him again. "A little help, Eddie?" James yelled as he struggled to subdue the Queen.

Eddie came up behind Ravina and pined her arms back. James glared at her, and she spit in his face. James growled, but simply brushed the spittle away.

"Listen, we aren't going to hurt you, but so help me, I won't hesitate in giving you a good slap if you don't do as I say," James said.

"I can't believe I trusted you," Ravina said, turning her head and directing her comment to Eddie who still held her arms.

"I'm sorry, but we need to get home," Eddie said softly.

"We take her too," James said suddenly.

"What? That wasn’t part of the plan," Eddie said confused.

"No, it wasn't, but think about it. We have their Queen, we get leverage over how WolfBlood gets handled. We stay in control of our homeland this way," James said as he hurriedly prepared the horse.

Once the horse was ready, James stalked over to Ravina and Eddie with a rope. "Tie her up," James said, taking a firm hold of her arms as Eddie laced the rope over her wrists.

After she was secured, James picked her up and tossed her over the horse.

"That hurt you fucking arsehole!" Ravina snapped. James ripped a piece of cloth in half, walked over and tied the makeshift gag around her head, shoving the cloth into her mouth. "Be a good girl, and shut up," James said.

"Don't be such a prick, James. She didn't do anything," Eddie said, squaring up with his brother.

James glared hard at Eddie. "Don't be a fool. Her army destroyed our men, she took us prisoner so she could take control of our Kingdom. Just because you fucked her doesn't make her guiltless!"

Eddie paused a moment, keeping his eyes locked with James, but he balked at his words, and they left the stables.

The outside wind was cold, but they moved forward and made their way to the forest.

"Change of plans, lads. You go to WolfBlood at full speed. Keep to the trees, avoid the main roads. We will take the queen in a different direction to cause confusion. See you back at home," James said, giving the last of his men a nod.

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #james delaney #eddie brock #viking fantasy

[estellardreams]

Chapter 18: Grim Tidings

"... How can I trust someone who lied to me all along?... Turns out the only person I can ever trust is myself..." Venice headed through the portal, watching it close itself behind him.

He sighed, shaking his head and trying to avoid these doubts. He hated this feeling... 

He didn't wanna abandon Shadow but... They just weren't on good terms anymore. 

And he'd just have to deal with that

Venice quickly wiped some stray tears off his face before looking back at the shards. 

"A-at least... I can rebuild a new home... Even without Shadow..." He breathed.

"It could've been everything for us! Everything we could've had, and loved! A new home and peace for just the two of us! I... I guess that's not possible now..." He flew up to the generator, seeing the purple shard in place.

He quietly began to levitate them all into position, watching them combine themselves. 

"Woah... The Paradox Prism..." He stared in awe.

"With this... My new home will be fully realized and... A-and I can be... Happy, again." Venice lifted up his hand slowly, drawing on the Prism's power and sending it out to the Grim.

The massive purple crystals began to reform, reshaping his home into a fortress of protection. He charged up more power, blasting the sky and creating a powerful dome over the starry landscape.

"Oh... Its perfect. All of it..."

However, unaware to this fact, the rest of the Shatterverse began to vibrate as the shards came together, the energy pulsing together. 

And the entire portals began to crack and splinter... Marking the end of the universe's stability.

Shadow stared at the spot where the shards once were, a solemn reminder that he failed... Again.

He destroyed home and ruined all chances of getting it back... 

It was all his fault. 

And he hated that feeling... 

All he did was have trust in Venice... Just this once. To be left alone and... 

He was faced with the truth that they didn't want the same things. 

Ugh... Why was he so neglectful over this?! 

He was only trying to do what's right... 

"Shadow. We need to go." Infinite cut in.

"... But what about Venice?"

"Ghost Hill is destabilizing. Our first mission is getting out of this place before we're gone with it."

"Right... Let's go." Shadow followed to the outside. Infinite ran after him as the two leapt down from the mountain, seeing it already begin to crumble into purple rocks and dust.

"We need to leave this world." he looked around, seeing everything fall apart around them.

"Don't have to tell me twice." Infinite said, running off.

Meanwhile, the Yolkamotive returned back to the Mothership.

"I told you we couldn't trust that hedgehog! I knew he'd steal the shards the first chance he got!" Eggman said.

"Er, you said nothin' the sort." Done-It said.

"You just wanted to cover your tracks, like you try to cover your head with your silly toupee!"

"Trying, and failing..." Don't muttered, still playing his game.

"Gentleman." Deep placed Babble back in his seat before continuing. "Forget the Hedgehog. Look around. This world draws its last breath."

"And so will we if we don't get outta here!" Done-It said.

"Agreed. But without the shards our energy supply is low. We only have enough to portal back to New Yoke." Eggman said.

Babble babbled, slamming his fists on the table.

"Agreed. Set a course for new Yoke. Post haste!" Deep said.

The Mothership charged up the last of its reserves, generating a portal before flying through it and back into the void.

Shadow and Infinite continued to run as the world crumbled around them.

"If we gain enough speed, we should be able to teleport out of here." Shadow said.

"To higher ground!" Infinite directed, using his sword to jam it into a cliffside and launch himself off of it.

He landed, quickly grabbing Shadow and launching him the distance before leaping himself. The ground began to crumble underneath them, forcing them to run faster. But the ground gave out before they could get very far, sending them crashing to the ground below.

Shadow paused, seeing the ghost versions of his friends still repeating the exact same things. He stared at them, just... Wishing he could fix this himself. He sighed, seeing Infinite come up to him.

"We need to go." the jackal said. 

"Right... Of course."

The two dashed off, avoiding the decaying landscape as much as they could. 

Shadow launched Infinite into the air before flying up himself, the two continuing to run as fast as the could. 

"Argh! It's not working! We need another way!" Infinite yelled.

Shadow looked around, noticing the tears in reality. "There! We need to go up!"

"Oh, I like the sound of that!" Infinite propelled himself up using his sword as Shadow spindashed into the air, the two landing on some shards and leaping between them before finally flying out of Ghost Hill.

The entire portal collapsed, falling apart in seconds as they were sent careening into more shards.

They both clung onto a shard that was sent spiraling into the air. Infinite's grip almost slipped, but he clung on as Shadow made sure he was secure enough.

The shard collided into another, and they landed on that. Shadow breathed, refocusing as he looked back up at the empty space... Where Ghost Hill once stood.

"It's... Gone." he thought about it for a moment, unsure of what this meant.

"If... If this happened to Ghost Hill, then... It could happen to the other shatterspaces." he said.

Infinite hummed in agreement. "Yeah... And we were left to die there. I... I can't believe you even trusted that hedgehog at all! Look around us, we're in this mess because of you!"

Shadow sighed. "I know... Its my fault. You don't need to keep saying it-"

"But... If there's anything I've learned from you, it's that you're incredibly persistent... You don't give up. So neither will I."

Shadow's ears perked up, turning to him. "You... Really mean that?"

"... Yes."

Shadow fell silent for a moment, looking away. "That doesn't change the fact that I messed up... Badly... What am I supposed to do now...?"

"Find Venice and teach him a lesson." Infinite pulled out his sword.

Shadow quickly made him lower it. "I... I hurt him. How about we... Try reason first?"

"'Reason'? That's so unlike you."

Shadow shot him a look.

Venice hummed quietly, continuing to forcibly draw on energy and send it into some purple crystals. He concentrated, trying to brute force the crystals as much as he could to make what he wanted. 

The energy exploded away, sending him falling back. He gasped, coughing a little.

"That's... Not working... I need..." He staggered to his feet, leaning on the generator. He looked up to see the Paradox Prism gleaming in the light.

He frowned, taking on even more energy and shooting it at the dark crystals again, struggling to stabilize what he was creating. 

He felt his consciousness slip before the energy fizzled, letting him collapse to the ground. 

He groaned, struggling to get himself back up again before he noticed...

His creation... His machine. 

"Oh... It worked...? Haha! I worked! Yes!" he cheered to himself.

"Didn't you see that Shad-" he paused... Then remembered that Shadow was gone.

His ears fell, looking back at the machine he just formed. "Well... Welcome to the world, new friend."

The world rumbled, catching him off guard. His ears perked up, causing him to fly over to his computer. 

He noticed the main dome over the Grim was glitching, seemingly unstable and unable to keep itself upright... And tears in the sky began to form. 

"The Grim... Its starting to decay...?" he stared in shock and confusion. "But... The Prism is together. Am I missing something?"

He turned back to the Paradox Prism, seeing it shake and glitch a little. His eyes widened as he realized... 

There was some prismatic energy left. 

And he knew who had it.

He groaned, face palming. "Of course! Shadow has the energy! Why didn't I remember that?!"

Infinite tapped his foot impatiently. "Well? Aren't we gonna get a move on? You've been sitting there, head in hands, for gaia knows how long! We need to get out of here right now."

"I... I need a moment. Can't I just have that?" Shadow mumbled.

Infinite groaned, rolling his eyes. "The world is falling apart. Either we get to the Grim and stop Venice or we are lost here. Forever. With no way to get back! So get up and let's GO."

Shadow sighed, standing back up. Infinite paused, noticing him trying to conceal his face. 

"Hey... Are you...?"

"Fine. I'm fine. Now let's go." Shadow moved away from him, jumping off the crystals.

"To where? Where are we going?" Infinite asked, leaping after him.

"I have a feeling I know where Venice is..."

"Seriously?! We could've been there already, then!"

Shadow shot him a look. Infinite awkwardly laughed. 

"Lead the way, then."

Shadow heading between the crystals, making sure Infinite was following him. He noticed a shard about to hit him, quickly diving in and yanking him out of the way and to safety.

"There. That's two you owe me." he said, putting the jackal down.

Infinite growled at that, while Shadow continued on his own. They quickly reached the portal, stopping in front of it.

Infinite began to approach the portal, reaching his hand up to it. His hand was immediately deflected from the entrance. He growled, trying again. He kept punching it, but it wouldn't let up.

"Hey! You need another way in." Shadow yanked him back.

"But how? There's no way-" he stopped, seeing Shadow's flat look towards him.

"Oh... Oh. Right... Rifts."

Shadow rolled his eyes, pulling him towards the side of the gateway. He noticed the opening, the two flying in before landing back inside.

Infinite brushed himself off as Shadow stared in shock towards... Venice's new fortress.

"So... This is what he's doing with all this energy..." He began to approach it, with the jackal catching up.

"That's... Far enough." Venice said, a tad somberly.

"Venice! What are you doing?" Shadow asked.

"I was... Making my home into what I wanted. But as you can tell..." He frowned, gesturing to the rifts in the sky.

"It's all starting to decay."

"So is that what this is all about? Power?" Infinite questioned.

"You don't have any room to talk." Shadow said.

"... Shadow, I wish we were still friends... On good terms... But I'm sorry. I can't let you take away my future again."

Shadow felt his ears flatten for a moment.

"With the Paradox Prism, I'll be able to turn this world into a paradise." Venice continued. He quietly raised his hand to the air, motioning it down and drawing on more Prism energy before it shot up into the air, reforming the energy dome.

"Let's destroy this traitor." Infinite pulled out his sword.

"Wait! Can't we try?"

"'Try'? Try what?"

"Reasoning with him."

"That's a bad idea."

"Maybe... He'll listen."

Infinite sighed. "Fine. Try. But if he doesn't listen, I'm tearing him apart."

"... Don't do that either."

"Ugh, you don't let me have any fun."

"Not when it involves killing people!" Shadow refocused, turning his attention to Venice.

"Venice, please. We can still be friends. You can have your home while I can have mine, right?"

"But... I don't wanna disappear, okay?! If... If I can keep the Prism in this world, it'll never leave me!" Venice said. 

"But the rest of the Shatterverse-"

"What about it? They never cared about me... Only you did. And what did you do? Turn around and try to take away my future. I won't let that happen again." Venice turned away, letting his robot creation step up.

Shadow's eyes widened. "What... Is that?"

"It's you." Infinite stood beside him. 

He gave him a flat look. "Yeah. I can tell."

"Then why did you ask?"

Shadow groaned. "Nevermind. What's important right now is that it's in our way."

"Not for long, it is!" Infinite pulled out his sword.

The robot leapt down, landing and charging at them. It grabbed Infinite's sword as it was about to hit him before yanking it out of his hands and chucking him into Shadow. 

The two fell back with a thud, getting back up. The robot snapped the sword in half and threw it aside.

"Didn't we already fight one of these things?" Shadow questioned.

"Yes. But you lost until I helped you. This time... You're on your own."

Shadow's ears fell a little. 

"He's not on his own." Infinite stepped forward.

"Wait, but without a sword how could you-"

"I have back-ups." Infinite pulled out another sword.

"Oh."

Venice frowned, watching them. "... That's a lie. I... I know it."

The two ran into a fight, Shadow round-house kicking the bot in the head and sending it skidding back. Infinite almost jammed his sword into the droid, but was thrown back.

The two continued to chase after it, with one attack launching them both away before leaping back into the fight, continuing to go after it.

Venice watched on, studying their movements. 

Infinite threw his sword at the bot, causing it to grab the blade inches from it's head and throw it away, jamming it into the ground. The bot dodged another kick from Shadow as the jackal swerved and yanked his sword out, running after the bot again.

The bot kicked away Shadow before dodging Infinite's swings, getting thrown back again as Shadow charged up a chaos spear and threw it, sputtering the droid for a second before. Infinite jammed his sword into the bots chest, forcibly slamming the robot into the ground and letting it power off.

Shadow sighed, turning back to Venice. "It's over..."

"No... Its not." Venice watched as his other robots came into view.

The first leapt to the ground, curling up into a spin and bouncing out of it. The second used it's hammer to propel itself into the air, launching themselves in the process before landing. The third flew down using a burning prismatic flame, and the fourth glided down to the ground seamlessly with their wings.

A robot doubleganger of Sonic... Amy... Rouge... And Blaze. Wow. 

"That... You... How did you...?" Shadow stared between them and Venice, bewildered at the sight.

Venice sighed. "You wouldn't get it... You never did."

He turned his back on them. "... Take them."

The robots ran into the fight, with Infinite quickly swept away by Grim Blaze. Shadow leapt over Grim Rouge, dodging Grim Amy's hammer and narrowly avoiding getting kicked in the face by Grim Sonic. He was thrown back by the hammer, sent careening into Grim Rouge who flew him into the air.

He forced himself out of her grasp, suddenly hovering to the ground using his shoes. He readjusted, surprised his shoes could do that before immediately refocusing.

Infinite was slammed into the wall by Grim Blaze. He ducked from her prismatic fire blast, jamming his sword into her chest. She grabbed him and threw him away, snapping the sword out of her regardless of the damage. 

Infinite groaned, pulling out another sword and immediately blocking a swing of the hammer from Grim Amy.

Shadow was chucked into the air, with Grim Sonic spindashing up to him and trying to ram into him. Shadow quickly dodged mid-air, landing back on the ground. He avoided a strike from Grim Rouge, who swooped down to snatch him again before ramming into her, sending her crashing into Grim Sonic.

"Behind you!" both Shadow and Infinite yelled. Shadow quickly avoided Grim Amy again as Infinite leapt over Grim Blaze. He grabbed onto her, sent flying into the air. He jammed his sword in, forcibly flying the droid into Grim Amy and knocking them out.

Grim Shadow got back up again, dusting itself off and charging after them. Infinite used his blade and slashed it away before it could do anything.

"Go for the Prism." Infinite ordered.

"On it." Shadow ran towards the fortress.

He dodged fire blasts from Grim Blaze as he approached the base, beginning to climb up it by using his hover shoes. 

Venice's ears flattened, knowing he'd have to keep Shadow at bay. He couldn't be trusted after all. 

He tore off some chucks of purple crystal and slammed them into him, sending him falling back to the ground. 

"Shadow!" Infinite yelled, running up to him. He kept his sword drawn as the droids surrounded them.

Venice flew down, standing before them. "Are you... Okay? I'm sorry, I- No. Focus..."

Venice quickly straightened up, turning back to the two. "Impressive, huh? With the power of the Prism, there's nothing I can't do. And it can be home..."

"But... Is this what you want? To spend the rest of your days here, alone? With only these robots to keep you company?" Shadow asked.

Venice frowned. "You were my friend... I could've shared this place with you. But no, you just had to... To...! TAKE THAT HOPE AWAY FROM ME! I WON'T LET THAT HAPPEN EVER AGAIN!"

"But look around you! The Grim is starting to decay!"

"I know it is. But once I finish the Paradox Prism, everything will be stable again."

"I thought you already fixed it." Infinite growled.

"I did... But there's some energy missing."

Shadow froze, staring at his altered gloves and shoes. "... I have that energy."

"Yes, you do." Venice flew away, letting the bots focus all of their attention on Shadow.

"... You need to get out of here. Now." Infinite yelled, yanking Shadow aside before the hammer hit his face.

"But what about you?"

"I'll be fine. He's after your energy. So GO."

Shadow nodded, running off. He tried to pick up enough speed, but was thrown back by Grim Sonic and pinned to the ground by Grim Amy. 

Grim Rouge swooped down and threw Infinite into the air, with Grim Blaze charging up a prismatic fireball.

Infinite deflected the flames, only to lose his sword in the process. He fell back, punching Grim Amy away and kicking Grim Sonic off, yanking Shadow to his feet.

"That was my last sword."

"Just great..." Shadow groaned, sarcastic.

"What do you need?"

"Some space to fly out. Can you do that?"

"Yes. Now go!"

Shadow nodded, using his shoes to fly into the air. He dodged a strike from Grim Rouge and Blaze, trying to go as fast as he could to the rift. 

Infinite continued to fight back the machines as best as he could, but he was getting overwhelmed.

The moment Shadow got to the rift, the shield went back up, letting him make his escape.

"No no no!" Venice yelped. "Argh... But I need him here."

He turned his attention to the other droids.

"Grim Blaze. I have a mission for you." he said.

The robotic feline flew up to Venice, standing before him. Venice charged up more energy and duplicated the Droid. 

"Go after Shadow. And bring him back here." he ordered.

The three bots leapt into action, flying through the air and into the rift. Venice turned his attention to Infinite, who was pinned down by Grim Sonic, Rouge, and Amy. He flew down to him, kneeling down to stare at him more closely. 

"... If that doesn't work, I have a plan B in mind." he said, letting the robots drag Infinite to his feet.

Venice let himself smile a little. He wasn't going to fail at his dream this time...

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

#shadow prime au #sonic au #sonic prime

[debussyanddarcy]

AU Prompt: "You broke into my apartment drunk thinking it was your friend's place and I should call the cops but my cat likes you so????" unrequited plisetsuki please : D ?

to preface this: this probably is not what you wanted when you asked for this, but, uh, this is what happened?

ANYWAY I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY TODAY

Somebodyis in the apartment.

Yuriis a light sleeper by nature, so the quiet pitter-patter of feet across hiswooden apartment floors jolts him out of sleep quickly. What the ever-loving fuck,really, it’s not even like there’s anything valuable in his apartment. Yuri’s abroke college student; the most valuable thing in his possession is his damn MacBook.

(Viktor’shalf of the apartment is a different story.)

Still,it’s not like he’s going to sit around and let this asshole raid his fridge, orworse, steal his phone, so he grabs a baseball bat from his closet andcreeps out of his room, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. Yuri is—okay, a little smallfor his age, but Viktor had once told him that his tiny body contained the rageof a dozen Russian pro-wrestlers. Yuri thinks it’s the nicest thing Viktor’sever said to him.

Yuripeers into the expanse of the apartment and finds a single, flickering light inthe kitchen. He stealthily tiptoes across the floor, baseball bat clutchedtightly in his fists, to find that, what the hell, this bastard is actuallyfucking raiding his fridge.

“That’smy pirozhki, asshat!” he snarls, ready to swing his bat when theintruder turns around.

Shit, Yuri thinks. It’s BeautifulInternational Student Yuuri Katsuki.

Whichis stupid, because Yuri himself is an international student, and he isgoddamned beautiful, okay, but Yuuri Katsuki’s beauty is legendary,well-known even to the undergraduates. He’s a doctoral student in the biochemistrydepartment, and can often be seen slogging through the quad in a faded graytracksuit, hair unkempt, glasses slipping down his nose, leaving broken heartsand forlorn sighs with every step he takes.

Butright now, Beautiful International Student Yuuri Katsuki is crouched in frontof his refrigerator, biting into Yuri’s painstakingly baked pirozhki, faceflushed, eyes suspiciously red.

 “Whatthe fuck,” Yuri says intelligently. “Are you—are you crying?”

 “N—no,”Yuuri hiccups. “Why would I—why would I—” He bursts into tears.

Yuri—doesnot panic. He just—well, bounces around on his feet a little, flailing. Thebaseball bat slips from his grasp and rolls noisily along the floor. “Forgetit!” he yelps. “You can eat all the pirozhki you want! Here! Heat it up! Whyare you eating it cold?”

Hegrabs the plate from Yuuri’s hands and sticks it in the microwave. He shoveshis hands in his pockets just to give them something to do. Behind him, Yuuriis still sniffling quietly. The sound makes his stomach clench uncomfortably,and he casts around for something to say.

“Whatthe hell’s the matter with you?” he asks gruffly, eyes still fixed on themicrowave timer.

Yuurisighs. “Think I’m drunk,” he informs him, voice wavering.

Ofcourse Beautiful International Student Yuuri Katsuki would be a Sad Drunk, Yurithinks. “Do you barge into strangers’ apartments whenever you are intoxicated,”he deadpans. 

“No.”Yuuri frowns, going cross-eyed. It’s not adorable at all, which is why Yuristealthily slips his phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture. “Was lookingfor—Phichit?”

“He’stwo doors down,” Yuri tells him, unamused.

Yuuri’slower lip actually trembles. The sight of it makes Yuri feel things,which is utterly unacceptable. So he does the logical thing, which is to takethe plate of pirozhki out of the microwave and shove one into Yuuri’s mouth.

Yuuribites, chews, and swallows. His eyes light up. “Oishi!” he proclaims,and teeters off into unintelligible Japanese. Yuri tries, and fails not topreen. He put that look of ecstasy on Beautiful International StudentYuuri Katsuki’s face.

Hejoins Yuuri on the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest. Sasha comespattering in, fluffy tail high in the air. He clambers into Yuri’s lap, andYuri scratches him behind the ears, watching Yuuri devour his plate ofpirozhki.

 “So,”Yuri begins. “Why are you drunk?” 

Yuuriopens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. “There is not enough alcohol in meto tell you that story,” he says gravely.

Yuriscoffs as he gracefully gets to his feet, Sasha tucked securely in his arms. “Well,you broke into the right apartment.”

 *

  Inthe end, it comes to down to Viktor fucking Nikiforov.

Ofcourse it does.

Threeshots of vodka in (taken from Viktor’s most expensive bottle, Yuri thinks with relish) andYuuri has taken off his hoodie, his shirt, and one sock. Yuri tries not to lethimself get distracted by the lines of Yuuri’s chest and abs, but he’s onlyhuman.

“Ijust,” Yuuri says, hiccupping. “I love him so much?”

Yuritwitches.

“Heis so beautiful?” Yuuri is saying, and Yuri clutches Sasha closer to his chest.“And he is so brilliant. He is. He is. Beautifully brilliant. Brilliantlybeautiful. And today, I. I just wanted to wish him luck at his conference. He’sgoing to Munich, you know,” he adds in an undertone, and Yuri rolls his eyes.“But he. He didn’t even know who I was.” Yuuri’s eyes grow very, very wide.“We’ve been in the same department for two years. We’ve been to the samemixers. We’ve been to some of the same conferences, even, I.” Yuuri hangs hishead. “I thought he at least knew my name.”

“Viktoris an asshole,” Yuri says, “who has his head stuck so far up his own ass thathe can see out of his mouth. 

Yuuriblinks at him.

“Weall notice you, dumbass,” Yuri says, refusing to make eye contact. Sashamewls, stretching out on his lap. “You don’t need his—his approval, orwhatever, to feel like you’re worth something.”

Silence.

Andthen: the sniffles.

“Ohmy god,” Yuri hisses. “Are you actually crying again.”

“You’reso nice,” Yuuri wails, and Sasha, the traitor, leaps off Yuri’s lap tobutt his head against Yuuri’s knee.

Yuriscowls and reaches for the bottle of vodka.

It’sempty.

Fuck my life, he thinksfeelingly.

  *

 Viktorwakes up bleary-eyed to a text from Yuri on his phone.

Thereis a picture: it’s fuzzy, and lit very poorly, but Viktor can tell that it’shis room. His bed, to be precise, and the outline of a distinctly male figurelying on his rumpled sheets. 

Followedby a video: “I think Viktor is the best.” The sound is grainy, and the personspeaking trails off so that Viktor has to strain to hear. But his eyes arelovely and his lashes are long and dark, the curve of his nose delicate in thedim lighting. “His research on male-pattern baldness is unparalleled and also Ithink he has a great ass.”

Apause as the angle of the camera changes, and Viktor is greeted with Yuri’sunimpressed face. “If you—” Yuri pauses, stumbling a little. “If you make himcry ever again, I will evisc—evisce—rip your intestines out and feed them toSasha and then I will dance over your corpse while waving your decapitatedhead on a stick in front of your weeping mother.” 

Hehiccups and falls over, snoring.

Oh,Yura, Viktor thinks fondly. Always so passionate about life.

 YOU: who is that lovely boysleeping in my bed?

YURA:fuckoff

YOU:you arequite overprotective

YURA:if youdon’t know him already you don’t deserve to know him asshole

YURA: btw your vodka’s all gone

YURA: fucker

 Viktorsets his phone on the bedside table thoughtfully. This clearly requires furtherinvestigation.

 *

  Viktorofficially meets Beautiful International Student Yuuri Katsuki two days later.

Itis terrible for everyone (read: Yuri Plisetsky) involved.

 *

 Atthe end of every winter semester, the Comparative Literature Departmentpublishes a collection of short essays, stories, and poems created lovingly by theirsleep-deprived and caffeine-addicted students. The pieces vary in nature, andare hand-selected by a committee of professors before making it into the finalcopy.

ProfessorBaranovskaya, widely known for her no-nonsense, scathing critiques, who putsthe fear of God in the already dying souls of every university student thatwinds up in her classes, vouches for one particular piece with quiet authority.

Itmakes the first page.

 you, who enchantswithout knowing

to be the tear thatgraces your cheek

to be the drop of vodkathat slides down your throat

 I rest my head on yourknee

and sigh

  (Y.P.)

 *

 Viktortakes a screenshot and pins it to their shared fridge with a bright bluemagnet. MY YUROCHKA IS GROWING UP!!!! he annotates with a pink marker.

Yurifills all his shampoo and conditioner bottles with bright orange hair dye.  

#still don't think this is what you were after sorry #i think by the end of it i had wandered off into the cousin kid fic single parent whatever universe #i also hope i didn't accidentally steal that poem from somewhere i feel like certain lines sound familiar eeeep #ah well #let us quietly post this and forget about it post-haste #fic #yoi #yurio's awkward teenage crush #although he's possibly older now i think he's probably twenty in this one #SUPERMAN ARE YOU HAPPY #kixboxer

[griffintail]

The Lost Ones

Summary: Several of the SMP members find an infant in a place they didn’t expect and decide to care for them.

Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader

Next

Warnings! : Swearing, Village Raid, Minor Violence, Minor Deaths (Mostly mobs), mentions of blood

A/N : I’m the biggest sap for child readers. Dating back to 2014. I literally couldn’t help myself. Just so everyone knows, I suck at writing in gender neutral terms, that’s why the reader is specifically female in all of these (Including Tommy’s, Minor Spoiler, Tommy’s just an idiot and doesn’t look). So, sorry about that.

I’ll most certainly will make more of these. I won’t always have it just like this, I might write a certain character individually in a scenario. It’s all dependent on my mood. I might add more characters! This is just basically the introduction. So yeah...ENOUGH RAMBLING! Hope you enjoy :)

       Tommy (Before the First Disc War)

        Tommy smirked proudly to himself as he tucked his new disc safely into his inventory bag before starting the walk back to his home. His adventure was successful, he managed to get a rare disc and it was now all his. Walking through the small bit of woods, he rested his hand on his sword handle. It was still night time after all and the monsters were out to play.

        As he could see the lights from the small town of the Dream SMP, he heard a cry. Looking back into the woods, he frowned before grinning.

        Someone is in trouble! He’d save them and get a payment—er— “willing reward” from them. Pulling his sword, he ran over towards the sound of another cry, this time the sound being continued. He rolled his eyes, someone was crying, what a pussy. As the crying was practically on top of him, he frowned in confusion as he only found a skeleton, which was trying to shoot at a basket hanging in a tree. There was no one there to be crying.

        He shrugged regardless, taking his shield off before going for the skeleton. It only managed one arrow before Tommy killed the mob. Looking at the basket, Tommy hummed before putting his weapon and shield away to climb up. As he got to a safe place to reach the basket, the crying now made sense as his eyes went wide.

        “You’re a fucking baby!” He shouted in surprise.

        Said infant noticed the new face and their wails quieted, but small cries still came out.

        “Quiet down. You’re going to bring monsters!” He hushed, moving carefully, getting the basket off, and brought it to himself. “How the hell did you get up here? Who just leaves a baby?”

        He looked down at the baby as he sat back in the tree. He couldn’t help but think how small she was, had he been that small when he was this young?

        “Guess you got nowhere to go huh?” He asked as the child looked up, their cries having gone silent seeing the boy much closer.

        They played with their blanket and he hummed as he held the basket close, making his way down the tree.

        “You’re lucky, a big man saved you! I don’t live far, so you’ll come with me. Of course, I wouldn’t just leave you here again.” Tommy rambled, despite knowing the infant couldn’t respond back. “I’m not some kind of monster!”

        He made it back to his home, putting the basket on his bed, and looked down at the baby with his hands on his hips.

        “If you were left out there like that, you’re alone.” This time, the baby gave a small babble and he couldn’t help the small smile that came on his face. “Well, then I’ll take care of you! I’m a big man and can do it easy! Phil took care of my brothers and me after all and he’s old and stupid. I’m young and very wise, so I can do it. I suppose you’ll need a name now.”

        If anyone had been in the room with Tommy, they’d be surprised how gentle he picked up the small human. Carefully, he held them properly, only knowing how as Phil had once shown him when they were helping a village out after a raid when he had taken the younger boy to trade.

        “Hmm, I’ll call you (Y/N)!” He decided. “And I will be the greatest father ever! And I know the perfect way to celebrate today!”

        Going into his bag, he grinned as he pulled out his new music disc. Putting it on the jukebox, he sat on his bed as the infant looked over at the object making the beautiful sound. His grin went into a gentle smile as he watched (Y/N) listen to the music. They’d both be happy; he’d make sure of it.

        Twenty Minutes Later…

        Tubbo sprinted down the stairs of his house as he heard frantic knocking on his door and the sound of crying. Swinging the door open, he let out a startled noise seeing a distressed Tommy holding a wailing baby.

        Of course, he’d need some help since there was just a little bit of a learning curve.

          Wilbur (Right after Declaration of War)

        Times were hard. Wilbur had just started a new nation to free himself, his friends, and his family from the iron grip of Dream and his friends, but they did not like the loss of power and declared war on him. As well as the war, Fundy had become a rather rebellious teenager and Wilbur wasn’t sure how to handle all of it. He didn’t let it show to the others though. He’d be a strong leader for them.

        He looked over his map of L’Manberg. They needed better defensive points…they fought with their words but Dream fought with weapons of destruction. They needed safe spaces to protect themselves…

        Wilbur jumped, knocking over an ink bottle over on the table when there was pounding on the van door.

        “Damn it.” He grumbled, quickly flipping the bottle back up and moved the map out of the way before going to the door.

        He opened the door to see Eret standing there, making Wilbur raise an eyebrow as Eret was on guard duty at the moment but looked shocked seeing what the other man was holding.

        “Hello, sir. They were just outside the gate. I didn’t see anyone else around.” Eret rapidly explained to his leader, the small infant wiggling in his hold. “I brought them here because they were cold.”

        “Get inside,” Wilbur instructed, going into the back of the van again quickly.

        He heard the door close as he grabbed his spare coat.

        “Hand them over,” Wilbur muttered, Eret carefully transferring his hold to the other man.

        Wilbur saw they had a blanket but it was thin and the child was cold to the touch. Wrapping his coat around them, he instructed Eret to light a furnace, which he did post haste.

        “Hello there, love.” He whispered quietly to the infant, rocking them lightly. “We’re going to get you warmed up and something to fill your stomach, how does that sound?”

        The baby didn’t fuss, too tired and cold to even thinking about making one. Wilbur stood next to the now lit furnace and looked up at Eret.

        “Is anyone out there?” He asked, his proud leader voice coming out.

        “No sir, I was worried about the child.”

        Wilbur nodded. “I commend you for saving their life, but I have it from here. Send someone to fetch milk and then please stand guard again.”

        Eret nodded before leaving the van.

        Once the two were alone, Wilbur sighed heavily as he sat on the floor, still close to the furnace. He felt the child’s forehead, feeling them warm up to his relief.

        “You gave us a scare little one.” He chuckled quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. L’Manberg will care for you. I suppose it was lucky you were left here rather than the Dream SMP.”

        He hummed quietly as he gently rocking the child, their eyes closing as they relaxed in his hold. As they relaxed, he gave a quick check for their gender.

        “Welcome little one. You’re the first woman of L’Manberg.” He smiled lightly.

        For a short while, he was able to forget about everything outside the van. He could relax himself and let his mind clear as he watched the little girl in his arms. They were both at peace.

        After a few minutes, he looked up as he heard the van door open. As he was standing up carefully, his own son Fundy came in holding a bucket.

        “Hey, Eret said you needed…What the hell is that?!” Fundy exclaimed in surprise, startling the girl in his arms, tears appearing in her eyes.

        “Shh, it’s alright,” Wilbur whispered to her as he rocked her again and he wiped her tears away with one hand.

        Fundy cautiously came over, raising an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

        Wilbur paused thinking for a moment, before smiling. “Meet your new little sister my son. (Y/N), the newest member of our great nation.”

          Philza (Right before Wilbur’s Betrayal)

        Phil shook out his wings as he landed in a village. He needed to rest them for a bit before continuing on his journey to L’Manberg. He had gotten word of how the tides had turned badly for his sons in the new nation they made to try and live peacefully. Originally, they hadn’t asked for his aid as Tommy and Wilbur had made contact with Techno and they believed with their older brother, they could surely turn it back. Yet, Tommy had sent him a letter with worry for Wilbur’s state of mind and Phil decided he needed to be there for his sons.

        Yes, he wanted them to learn the world on their own but there were some times when Phil needed to be there to help them.

        Looking at the sky, the night was fast approaching so he managed to get a house in the village for the night. Keeping his sword by his bedside, he went to sleep for the night…

        Startling awake, Phil heard the sounds of the village bell.

        “God damn it,” Phil mumbled, scooping his sword and bag before putting his hat on his head.

        Running out, he saw the cause of the panicked ringing. A pillager raid, and it was already out of control. Fires were crackling madly and blood littered the paths.

        “Shit.” He swore as a pillager spotted him and he dodged the arrow before running them through with his sword.

        The few surviving villagers ran from their homes and Phil went to follow when he heard a wail, the wail of a child. His throat tightened as he looked back to the burning buildings, his fatherly instinct along with his good nature kicked in.

        “God…” He muttered before spreading his wings.

        With ease, he was able to dodge between pillagers and ravagers alike as he followed the sound. Landing at the house that was most certainly ablaze, Phil kicked in the door. Holding his arm to his mouth and nose, he rushed in and found a small nursery, the flames engulfing the walls and ceiling. Rushing to the crib, he found the small child and quickly picked them up.

        “Let’s go kiddo.” He said as he rushed back out.

        Once he was outside, he took flight again and flew high enough to be out of arrow range, and flew far from the village. As he did, he looked the small child, of which he found out was female, over for injures as she screamed and cried. She had no visible injuries but Phil knew she had to have inhaled smoke. So, after a handful of minutes flying, he landed and shushed her quietly.

        “It’s alright kiddo, hang on,” Phil told her quietly as he went into his bag taking out a health potion. “I got something that can help you.”

        Being gentle, he gave them a few drops of the potion to hopefully clear out any smoke and heal the damage it might have done. The little girl gave hiccups and small cries.

        “It’s alright. You’re safe now.” He bounced her lightly, slowing down her cries to nothing. “There we go. We’re ok. Once morning comes, we’ll find the others of the rest of your village and see if we can’t find your parents.”

        The little girl’s eyes merely drooped and he gave smile before he frowned as he looked up to see the fires in the distance. They were a human child and he didn’t remember seeing any humans running away with the survivors but he’d try. And if not…

        “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you,” Phil assured the now sleeping infant.

        Technoblade (Start of Retirement)

        Techno shouldered the bag of wood he had gathered over his shoulder, his axe on his belt as he made his way home through the snow. The voices were relatively calm, not hungry for blood at the moment, and Techno was able to have a peaceful moment. As he trudged closer to his house, he slowed to a stop seeing footprints by the stairs and the voices kicked up as his thoughts went wild.

        Phil always gave him notice on his walkie if he was on the way and whoever had been there had gone up the stairs then walked away in a different direction from where they came.

        The voices were bringing up the question of if he was being scouted out. Who could have found his house? How did they find it? They started to demand blood.

        Technoblade took his axe off his belt while putting down the bag of wood. Going towards the porch carefully, he held it ready to expect the worse when he entered his house but he didn’t even go up the stairs to find something. On his doorstep, there sat a large huddle of blankets.

        Furrowing his eyebrows, he came up to the huddle carefully and slowly with his axe raised. Stopping when it was fully in view, he stared in even more confusion.

        “What the hell?” He questioned, lowering his axe slightly as he looked around the snowy tundra. “Who leaves a child on my doorstep!”

        In the middle of the huddle of blankets was a sleeping child, who wiggled slightly at the loudness of his voice.

        They’re an orphan now

        You know how you feel about orphans

        Blood for the Blood God

        Techno winced at the sounds of the voices as he looked at the child. They were right…they were an orphan now. Someone had left them on his doorstep and now they were abandoned. He gripped his axe tightly as he looked down at the infant.

        It’d be quick and easy…

        The small human opened their eyes slightly, squirming slightly as they saw him. Techno’s grip loosened, the voices screaming in protest. They were so small and so defenseless…he wasn’t calling for blood anymore.

        Grunting, he put the axe away, going back down the stairs to grab the bag as he clenched his jaw at the loud noises of the voices before going back and picking up the child with surprising gentleness as the child was startled slightly. He shouldered his door open, dropping the bag of wood next to the unlit fireplace before making his way upstairs to his bedroom. He put the child down, who watched him in silent curiosity as Techno took the walkie off his belt.

        “Phil, you there?” He questioned into it.

        It took a minute but the device crackled.

        “Yeah, what’s going on?”

        “I got a…issue. Come over as soon as you can.”

        “An issue? What kind of issue?” Phil asked in surprise as usually, Technoblade could handle most of his issues.

        “It’s hard to explain, just come over.” Techno rubbed his temple at the screams of the voices.

        “Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

        He put the walkie down as he looked over at the child watching him.

        “What?” He huffed.

        Then the child gave a small giggle, trying to get their hands free to hold them out to him. The man stood there in shock as his heart melted. He had not felt something like that in a long time. Scrunching up his nose slightly before coming over and taking the infant out of the blankets and holding her as he used to with Tommy.

        “What the hell am I going to do with you?” He muttered and the small human held lightly onto his shirt, making even the voices slow down.

        He down a level in his home to wait for Phil, keeping the child in his hold as he just decided to do his normal routine. He started a fire and began to brew a few potions when the knock came on his door.

        “Come in.” He called.

        In stepped his father, who immediately dropped his bag in surprise seeing what Techno was holding as he added a new ingredient to his potion.

        “Hello.” He greeted the older man without looking at him.

        “What the hell did you have?” The older man questioned.

        Techno looked over at him confused. “Blaze powder.”

        Phil took his hat off as he ran a hand through his hair. “I meant the baby!”

        “Oh! Yeah, this.” Techno said casually, the older man freaking out. “Someone left them on my porch.”

        “Oh god…are they ok?” Phil asked, coming over.

        “Yeah, they’re fine. They were swallowed by blankets.”

        The child tried to take a bottle in their hands and Techno simply moved it from them and kept working like it was the most natural thing in the world. Phil stood in surprise at how casual Techno was, he knew about the orphan thing and how vicious the voices in his head could be.

        “What…what are you going to do with the child?”

        “That’s why I called you,” Techno said, before holding the child to the man. “You take it.”

        “What?! Techno, I can’t just take this child. I…” Phil’s hand shook slightly at the thought of Wilbur. “I can’t have another child right now. And L’Manberg will question where I even got them in the first place.”

        “Well then what do I do with it?!” Techno huffed as he was surprised by the quietness of the voices.

        “Well…you could take of them.”

        “I don’t know how to take care of a child. I don’t even like children, have you seen me with Tommy?” Techno rolled his eyes.

        “You seem to like this one.” Phil pointed out as Techno was holding them willingly and at the gentleness, he had with them.

        Techno frowned as he tried to think of a good reason. “That’s because they’re quiet.”

        “Look…I know you don’t want to hear this but maybe you should look after them, even just for a while. I can see if I can find someone who wants a child.”

        No, you found them.

        They’re rather cute…

        Keep them!

        The voices had done a full turn around from when they first saw the child. They were demanding Techno care for them and protect the fragile being. Techno couldn’t disagree with them because in his heart…he wanted to protect the child that had been left on his doorstep.

        “Fine, I’ll take care of them for a while but you need to help me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

        Phil chuckled. “Of course, son. We should look them over first to make sure they’re alright.”

        Techno rolled his eyes but agreed, listening to Phil as he told him what to do. The father was smiling proudly as even though Techno was frustrated with the new task, he continued with it. Once she, as they discovered, was checked over, Phil put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

        “What do you want to call her?” Phil asked.

        He looked down at the child, who was giggling as Phil smiled at her.

        “Blood Child.”

        “Techno!”

        Later, Techno actually decided on (Y/N) and for once, the voices were on his side.

          Eret (Before the founding of L’Manberg)

        Eret chuckled to himself as he walked down the path back towards his castle. Tommy’s antics for the day had been particularly ridiculous that it still brought a chuckle to the older gentleman as he went back to his home. He knew the days around the Dream SMP certainly wouldn’t be boring.

        Walking to his castle, he stopped as he noticed a basket left in front of the door and peered inside.

        “Why hello there.” Eret smiled seeing a small face peering back up at him as they squirmed slightly in discomfort. “What are you doing here little one?”

        He carefully picked up the basket and went inside his castle. As he got to his bedroom, he carefully took the infant out struggling a bit but managed before searching a bit in the basket.

        “Hmm, no note or anything.” He muttered as he looked at the child squirming around. “Well, someone made a mistake leaving you behind. Let’s see if I can’t figure out what’s making you so fussy.”

        After a bit of trying, first checking to see if she needed a diaper, he figured she needed some food and managed to get milk, putting it in a clean potion bottle to help her drink it easier. That also took a few trials, but he managed to help her drink until she stopped fussing.

        “There we go, now I can see your lovely face better.” He smiled as he sat on his bed, wiggling his finger in front of her making her giggle.

        As he played with the small girl, he frowned slightly as he looked over the basket that she had been left in. Why would someone leave someone so precious on the doorstep of his castle? It was truly a shame for those that did leave the little girl as Eret couldn’t help but slowly smile again as the little girl grasped onto his finger.

        “You’re not going to have to worry little one. You can stay here with me and you can be the princess of this castle.” He promised her, hugging her lightly, making her giggle. “I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. It will take me a little while to learn how to do it all properly but I’ll learn. How does that sound…(Y/N)?”

        He chuckled as he moved his head back as she reached for her glasses. Yeah, this sounded like a beautiful idea.

          Dream (The Very Start)

        Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask as he heard George screaming in the distance, Sapnap laughing wildly in return. Those two never know how to stop.

        “Come on you two! We need to build a house before the night comes.” Dream called to them. “Stop goofing off.”

        Yet, he could still hear George’s high-pitched scream and he just chuckled and shook his head at his friends’ behavior. They were the company he kept and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for anything.

        Eventually, they did stop screwing and they were able to get to work on building their first home of the new land they had. The three of them joked and there was some arguing still between Sapnap and George but it just made it peaceful for the three of them. It was how their lives were.

        Dream went to go look for some sheep to get wool for beds before night fully struck, leaving the two “children” at the house. As he went searching, he jumped when he heard the sound of screaming, but it wasn’t liking George’s scream. It was quieter but still a scream.

        “Hello?!” Dream called as he pulled out his stone sword.

        As he went towards the noise, he realized it wasn’t a scream of terror as he first thought it was. No, it was a screaming cry, the kind a child would make. He started sprinting at that thought and skidded to a stop as he found the infant that was making the sound laid on top of a rock, a group of three zombies trying to get it.

        Dream gripped onto his sword before shouting to get their attention and moved back, quickly taking care of the mobs. He pushed his smiley mask to the side of his face as he finished them off and rushed over to the baby.

        “Hey! Hey. It’s ok now.” He told them as he climbed up next to them, dropping his sword at the bottom. “All the bad things are gone.”

        He gently picked up the baby, shushing them as he put a hand on top of their head. Slowly, they quieted down and Dream smiled wiping their tears away.

        “Hey, there you go. See? There’s nothing to cry about.” He chuckled before screwing his face up to look funny.

        The child giggled and he grinned.

        “There we go. Now, let’s check you out.” He muttered, looking them over. “No injuries. That’s very good princess. Now, what are you doing out here?” He asked as he looked around, seeing no signs of human life other than the two of them.

        Dream’s blood boiled slightly. Someone would just leave a child out here? If it wasn’t for him, she would have died!

        “You got nowhere to go huh? Well, you don’t have to worry.” He said, carefully sliding down.

        He picked up his sword, putting it back in its sheath, before walking back towards his friends.

        “I’ll take care of you. You’ll be the princess of our new land! You, me, and your two idiot uncles.” He laughed, the tiny girl giggling at the sound. “And I’ll make sure you always have a reason to smile.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #dreamsmp #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur soot x reader #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #eret x reader #dream x reader

[thegeneralguy]

A good role model

Hello! Thanks to @amalianetwork for helping me out with this story. Its a bit shorter than what I usually post on here, but it struck some heart strings inside of me. I hope you enjoy it.

Twitter | Blog

“Come on Matt! We’re going to be late for the festival!”

The excited shrieks came from a young child not older than ten years of age. His wavy blonde hair was encased in a blue baseball cap, and he was wearing an old button shirt. He was grabbing the hand from an older young man, pulling him forward with haste. Both boys looked very alike, age being the most differentiating factor between them.

“Ease up Cole, your number starts at seven. There’s plenty of time.”

“Yes, but I want to rehearse one time before the show. Mrs. Davis said all kids in our class had to meet an hour before to practice our song”

Matt advanced reluctantly, feeling uneasy in his attempt at formal attire. He adjusted his badly-knotted tie and tried his best in accommodating his oversized shirt. But he knew it was a necessary sacrifice, because this was supposed to be Cole’s “big night”. He would do anything for his little brother, even if it meant dressing as a buffon. The boys were rushing through the parking lot of the local theatre, amongst a sea of other families heading to the entrance. They entered the building and immediately headed backstage to deliver Cole to his class. Matt made sure his small bowtie was in place, but when he tried to take the cap from him, Cole swatted his hand away.

“Cole, you know you’ll get in trouble if you throw a fit over that cap again. All the kids in your class have to be dressed the same.”

Cole pouted and grabbed his head with both hands, securing it on his head.

“Please let me keep it. I’m scared to perform without it.”

“Okay you win. Just this one time though. You’re a big boy now, there are some rules you have to follow.”

“You’re the best Matt!”, said the little boy hugging his brother.

“Just remember to have lots of fun! I’ll be watching you from the front rows. And remember, once your act is over we gotta go.”

“That's not fair! Mrs. Davis is gonna take us all for pizza once the show is over.”

“I’m sorry C. You know Aunt Gertrude doesn’t like it when we go out late.”

“I don’t like Aunt Gertrude. She’s mean.”

Matt kept a straight face not to give a bad example, but he knew what his brother was talking about. Their aunt was a real menace sometimes. Especially when her rules were disobeyed.

“Don’t be like that buddy. Aunt Gertrude has been nice to us, so we have to obey the rules of her house. Besides, I’ll take you for pizza on the weekend. What do you say?”

“Yay! Thanks Matt. I’ll hurry up after the show, I promise. See you later!”

Cole then turned around and sprinted towards his group. Matt looked at his brother tenderly, remembering all they have gone through together. The blue cap was originally his, a gift from their father. They never had a lot to begin with, and after his parents were gone, the cap was one of the only mementos he had from them. He remembered hugging it terrified, as the police explained to him with gruesome detail for a twelve year old how his parents had been killed in a mugging. Cole had been only five at the time. Their aunt was their only living relative, so they were placed in her house. Cole couldn’t stop crying during the first night, so Matt gave him the blue cap and told him as long as he had it, his father would be there with him. Five years had passed, and the little boy still took the cap everywhere. Convincing Cole to take it off to wash it was a real hassle sometimes, but Matt managed. He was a good big brother after all.

Matt went to his seat and watched the recital in silence. Group after group they performed, excited families bursting in applause every time their kid went onstage. The young man was growing increasingly nervous, watching the minutes turn into an hour. The show was taking too long, which meant arriving at his aunt’s too late and having to deal with her wrath. He was lost in thought when suddenly Cole’s group was onstage. He cheered and applauded his little brother, who along with his classmates presented a potpourri of popular songs. He immediately recognized him due to the blue garment sticking out of the sea of white shirts. Once the number was done, he stood up from his seat and went to meet his brother backstage to take him to their aunt’s.

Their Aunt Gertrude was a solitary woman, preferring to live alone and far away from any other neighbor. The little house stood right at the edge of the woods, standing lonely amongst the dark trees. The car was parked on the driveway, so Matt knew immediately their aunt was home. He prepared mentally for the fit she was about to throw when she saw them coming in through the door. Once they made it inside, he sent Cole straight to his room and went into the living room, where his aunt was sitting on her usual chair watching TV.

“So, look who finally decided to show up. This isn’t a hotel you know.”, said the fat woman looking hatefully at the scrawny teenager.

“I know Aunt Gertrude. Cole had a school event he couldn’t miss, so we stayed out until late.”

The woman sneered at Matt, and then continued watching her show.

“You know misbehavior has consequences right? You were out past dinner time, so there won't be any dinner for you.”

Matt felt the rage coming up from his stomach. He disliked the woman a lot, but he knew she was the only reason the brothers were allowed to stay together. She knew that too, so she made sure to exploit that fact every time she could. He didn’t mind missing dinner, he was used to it. But Cole had to eat, or his stomach would hurt again and he wouldn't be able to sleep.

“I can miss out on dinner today and tomorrow if you want, but let Cole eat something. It was a tough day for him.”

“You should’ve thought that before breaking the rules. Rules are necessary, or else you will end up like your good for nothing dad. He got my sister killed, you know. Only a bad person does that.”

Matt tightened his fists so hard his nails dug into his skin causing some bleeding. His father was his aunt’s favorite subject, always belittling and berating him. But he was a good man, very hardworking. A real example for Matt. His only mistake was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Don’t you dare talk about him…”, he grumbled quietly. His aunt let out a cruel cackle, and glared at him angrily.

“Or what? You are just like him, you know. A useless dead weight under my roof. But not for long. You got one more night. After that, you’re turning into an adult, which means you gotta earn yourself a life.”

Matt had been so busy with his brother that he had completely forgotten about his birthday the day after. His aunt had been telling him she was going to kick him out that same day, but he always thought she said that only to intimidate him. Thinking about leaving Cole with that monster alone sent a chill down his spine.

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking you little asshole? As soon as you’re eighteen, you’re legally not my problem anymore. Besides, it’s good you learn how the world works. Not that your father ever taught you that. In fact, I think Cole was lucky to grow up without his bad example!”, said the woman laughing loudly. “Now, better get your shit ready. I’m calling farmer Joe tomorrow to see if he has some job for you. If you’re lucky he might even let you stay in the barn with the rest of his boys. Now, get out of my sight. My next show’s about to start.”

Matt just turned around and left completely speechless, hearing the loud music from the TV and his aunt laughing as he went upstairs to his room. Cole was already showered and wearing his pajamas, the blue cap still on his head. Matt sat down next to him on his bed, trying to keep his composure and not burst into tears.

“Listen Cole, I have to tell you something,'' he said, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. “You know tomorrow is my birthday, right?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t forget. I even wrote it in my calendar to get you some chocolate.”, he said excitedly before realizing he just ruined the surprise. “Oh no, I just ruined your present.”

“No buddy, it's okay. You know I love chocolate.”, said Matt grabbing the little boy’s head. “But listen, tomorrow I’ll be eighteen. And that's a very special number. So special, that people invite you to participate in certain activities!”

“What do you mean?”, asked Cole with a puzzled look on his face.

“Well, farmer Joe has invited me to his special club on his land, so I’m very excited I can go now. There’s only one small problem, I have to go sleep there too so I can do everything the guys there do.”

Cole just stared at his brother, tears welling up behind his eyes.

“You’re gonna leave?”

“Don’t be sad buddy. This is a great opportunity for me! Besides, I’ll come to visit you every day, I promise.”

Cole threw himself at Matt, his little arms embracing him as strong as they could. Tears ran down his rosy cheeks, and he could barely articulate the words due to the knot in his throat.

“But I don’t want you to go! I don’t want to be alone in this house. I’m scared.”

“I know buddy, I know.”, said Matt hugging his little brother. “But listen, remember what I told you about that cap? As long as you have it, dad’s going to be here with you. And so will I.”

Both brothers embraced for hours, refusing to let each other go. Cole cried until he fell asleep, so Matt tucked him into bed and waited until it was late enough to go down and steal some food for the boy. His aunt went to bed just before midnight, so he had to wait until she was gone to go to the pantry. He was almost falling asleep when he heard the TV going off, and the heavy steps of his aunt going into her room. He hesitantly stepped out of their bedroom, and swiftly went down to get some food for Cole. His body was very light, so that helped him move silently on the wooden floor. He brought up some snacks, leaving them on Cole’s night table, completely missing the clock just striking midnight.

He went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Taking off the horrible oversized shirt he stared at himself in the mirror. He was practically just skin and bones, lacking the proper nutrition and exercise for a good development during puberty. His dirty blonde hair was pulled back on a bun, looking just a shade darker than his brother’s. His aunt was right, he was pathetic, scrawny and weak. Barely a fitting example for Cole. But he didn’t want his brother to grow up without him. It was already bad enough he had to grow up without a dad, only to have his big brother be taken away too. He wished that both of them could stay together. That he was enough for his little brother, so he could provide him with the life he deserved.

The lights in the bathroom flickered, and the window was suddenly opened by a strong gust of wind, startling Matt. He started to get lightheaded, grabbing the small sink to prevent himself from falling. “It’s probably hunger”, he said to himself. But the more seconds passed, the worse he felt. He started sweating cold, drops falling down his face and his pale body. He watched a shadow creep over his skin, thinking he was starting to faint from starvation. When he raised his hand to touch the darkness, rough bristles greeted his fingertips. He was growing hair, all over his body. He watched it get longer and thicker, a thick mat covering his chest, and crawling down his flat stomach painting a thick treasure trail on his skin. Tufts of hair poked out from under his arms, his sparse armpit hair getting far denser. The shadow then climbed up his neck, fully flourishing on his face to form a short beard. Matt felt its roughness with the palm of his hand, fully enthralled by the sensation.

He then felt his bones elongate, shooting him a few inches towards the roof and lengthening his limbs. He looked like that creature slender-something kids were so obsessed about. Once his skeleton finished its growth, the muscles followed suit. He felt incredible heat emanating from his body, as each muscle twitched and grew to enormous size. Size packed on his chest, fully forming two massive pillow-like pecs sticking out from his torso. His cleavage was so deep he could probably put his entire thumb in it, and probably crush it too if he squeezed hard. Muscle packed on his shoulders as well, growing like two bowling balls. It made him look monstrously wide, fully condemning him to a life of having to go through doors sideways. His arms surged with power and grew as well, fully surpassing the width his legs had before. Thick hairy pythons hung to each side of him, resting at an angle due to the thickness of his triceps. His back then rounded out like a shield and expanded into a hairy muscular landscape. The lats were so big they looked like the could fall off of him at any moment.

He heard his stomach grumble, as it blew forward sticking out just a few inches behind his chest. Thick abs could be seen on the curve of his belly. His ass blew his dress pants into oblivion, each cheek swelling like a Christmas turkey. The legs followed suit, thickening into titanic proportions, powerful enough to sustain such a heavy top. Even his feet grew a few sizes, fully completing his transformation. Matt just stared at his new body speechless, feeling control over each fiber. He flexed his big arms, and bounced his heavy chest. A deep chuckle left his throat, and he realized his voice grew much deeper as well. He was so entertained by his new figure, he missed the clumps of hair falling from his head. His hair thinned out a little bit, and shortened itself into a clean cut, contrasting with its previous unkempt image.

Matt looked like a new man. His kid used to tell him he looked the size of a barn, just like that Disney song he liked from the film with the talking furniture. He was very bad with names, but he knew what movies his son liked. Matt scratched his head, confused by the thought of having a child. He was only eighteen, barely old enough to have a kid. But a body like this couldn’t belong to a young kid. A body like this took years of dedication, of pain and sweat, of discipline. He looked like the perfect dad, strong enough to protect, and big enough to climb over like a jungle gym. Matt smiled looking at himself in the mirror. His features changed and rearranged themselves into those of a masculine man. His nose was bigger and his brow stuck further out. Even a cleft formed on his now square jaw. He looked tough, but also lovable.

The maelstrom of memories fully blew Matt’s mind away, turning him into a perfect dad. He felt his dick snake up under his belly, and his balls drop lower and heavier like a mature plume, virile enough to spread his seed wherever he wanted. The rush of testosterone triggered more changes in him. His muscles got denser, more lived in. Crow feet printed themselves next to his eyes, and his skin got rougher fully aging two full decades.

“I’m one sexy motherfucker.”, grunted Matt, flexing before the mirror. He dedicated years of hard work and discipline to his body, and it showed. He loved the tight feeling of a shirt about to burst due to his titanic arms, or how the buttons popped open on their own due to his heavy chest. But even his glorious physique wasn’t his most valuable treasure. That was his son.

Reality rearranged itself around Matt, as memories of Cole growing up with him changed into those of a father raising his son. He remembered how tiny he looked when he held him in his arms, or how scared he looked when Matt dropped him in kindergarten for the first time. He remembered the recitals, the little league games, the birthday parties, the nights with Cole on his bed due to a nightmare, the camping trips. Everything he did, and had, was for his son. He was happy to grow up next to him, so he could teach him about the same hard work and discipline he put into his own life. Hopefully, Cole would grow up to be a good man like his father. And with those genes, hopefully big and strong too.

When Matt came back to his senses, he was standing in a nicely furnished bathroom. He adjusted the glasses on his face, and checked himself one last time before going out. The short sleeved shirt looked perfectly fitted to his big body, his arms almost ripping the tight sleeves apart. He came out of the bathroom to find the luxurious interior of a suburban home. He wanted his kid to have all his necessities covered. The memory of the tiny house in the woods and the monster within fully erased from existence.

“Come on Cole, you don’t wanna miss out on a good pizza, do you?”, he shouted, his deep bass shaking the foundations of the house.

“I’m coming dad!”

Young Cole came rushing down the stairs. His blonde hair shined brighter, and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. He took his coat and headed towards the front door, where his dad was waiting for him. Matt noticed the small blue cap on the little table next to the door.

“Aren’t you gonna wear your cap?”, he said, handing it to his son. Cole just smiled at his dad, and turned the cap away.

“I’m not scared anymore dad. I don’t need it.”

Matt just smiled and opened the door for Cole. The happy family then headed out into the sunshine to live the rest of their lives together. Nothing would be able to separate them.

#musclegrowth #daddy #hairy hunk #reality change

[lydias--stiles]

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don���t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,�� he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#jiara #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #otp: cause i'll come #It's messy but in a cute way

[7spaceace7]

These Thoughts We Carry

No one really knows about Sooga’s past. No one knows where he came from, or what burdens he carries. But Hylia damn them all, Master Kohga doesn’t let anybody go through that shit alone, especially when he knows what it’s like to deal with nightmares all the time. Especially when it’s the one he loves most.

 Master Kohga x Sooga hurt/comfort fic that I churned out after like two days and a bad set of nightmares. I hope you enjoy! I’ll post it on AO3 as well!

Warnings: Implied physical abuse 

Word count:  2387

In a desert, it is easy to forget that the sky can change. From early morning, it seems the sun is always burning down your back, clutching you in its comforting, yet suffocating, grasp. You almost forget that dusk is just hours away. The unclouded blue skies seem to go on forever. 

Though, every resident of Hyrule knows that the desert night is even more unforgiving than the daytime’s blistering heat. You are placed at a disadvantage amongst your foes. Lizalfos and bokoblins settle in for unsuspecting prey wandering about the sands. Anyone who has the wit about them could surprise you, if you are unlucky. And of course, the frozen winds bring a chill that digs deep into bone when just moments before you might have been begging for such relief. 

But none of those things were the reason Sooga hated the nights of Gerudo Desert. No, Sooga despised them for their unending silence. The vast emptiness. The endless searching for something besides your thoughts. Desert nights used this loneliness to stir up a past better left forgotten, and that is what Sooga hated most of all. 

He stood at the entrance of the Yiga Clan hideout, just before the land dipped and delved into its rugged formations of rock. The inverted eye statues stood through the whistling winds. Their cloth counterparts strung up above blew with a disheveled intensity. This nuisance of a noise was the only sound Sooga could hear rustling through the valley. Well, that and perhaps his restless mind. 

His thoughts were always loudest when he was trying to sleep, and often woke him up in the middle of the night. Tonight happened to be such a night where they were too loud to be kept inside the hideout. Certainly, they were too loud to continue resting next to Master Kohga, lest he wake him unnecessarily. Sooga would never dare to do this. Instead, he would resign himself to the chilled desert air at the beginning of the hideout when the memories became painful enough. If he could not sleep, at least he could be useful and take a nightwatch shift. His one good eye settled right on the valley’s opening.

Focus, Sooga. Do not let your mind drift. 

But his memories would not be silenced. He remembered a broken picture frame from his dream that night. The frame once held a family of three, but had broken into a family of only cracks after a bout of rage from a man he once called a father. It might have meant nothing to anyone else, but to Sooga...the screaming of the drunken bastard entered his ears at the simple sight of it. Sooga tried desperately to shake it from his mind, but his memories of the nightmare shoved through.

A broken picture frame, pieces splintered around thatchwood floor. A broken picture frame, having been thrown at his person when he hadn’t the skill to protect himself. A broken picture frame, among other airborne objects, that he narrowly avoided by the miracle of perhaps Hylia herself.

The Yiga warrior let a shaky breath escape his masked lips. Fists clenched tightly, as if that man would be right behind him if only he found courage to look. A quick glance told him nothing was there, but his heart was not at ease. 

Logically, Sooga knew there was nothing. He knew his father had left this world long ago. Sooga knew it so firmly because it was his own hands that finished him off. Simple strangulation, soon after he had only turned eighteen years of age. The warrior had made sure there was none of his father left in this world to haunt him ever again.

Yet here he was. Years later, still scared by ghosts he’d conjured up himself. The uniformed man sighed, and in a moment of weakness, pried off his white mask. Sooga was careful not to deepen the crack as his palm gingerly encased the object. Perhaps the cold air against his bare skin would be of use to his intruding thoughts. At least, he thought, it was nice to feel fresh air.

“There you are!” Came a familiar voice from behind his post. Sooga jumped and smacked the mask back onto his face in a panic. He blinked once from surprise, and once more from the shock he just gave his facial nerves.

“M-Master Kohga,” Sooga got to his feet and bowed automatically, hoping his pounding heartbeat wasn’t able to be heard by his superior. “I had not thought you were awake at this hour.”

“I wasn’t, but then I rolled over and realized you up and vanished,” Kohga yawned, scratching an itch at his neck. He was without his uniform, but still donned a type of mask. This one was specifically for sleep, and made of soft, red fabric that held a sewn pattern of the inverted eye, closed instead of open. For now, this mask rested atop his forehead. “Yunno, for a big guy, you’re real hard to find. Took me forever to figure out where you went.”

“My apologies, Master Kohga.” 

“Eh, don’t sweat it, I was only a little worried,” This of course was a blatant lie, as Master Kohga had quickly woken up in a cold sweat after his hand fell upon an empty spot next to him in bed. He had grabbed only his robe in his haste to find where Sooga had gone. But of course, a dignified leader such as he would never have done a thing like that. Kohga took a spot next to Sooga’s post and sat down. “So what’re you doin’ way out here so late?”

Sooga was silent for a moment as he sat down next to his master. He contemplated brushing off the comment with a vague answer, but...something compelled him to confide instead. 

“A dream demon made its attempt on my subconscious,” Sooga spoke. He hoped to retain at least a bit of dignity by acting professionally, but the facade was lost on Kohga. “I did not want to wake you with it.”

“Nightmares gettin’ to ya again, I see.” 

Again? Had Kohga somehow already known of his recent night difficulties?

“Don’t look so surprised, we’ve been sleeping toge-- er, bunking --for a while now, and you get kinda squirmy when you aren’t dreaming well.”

Sooga hadn’t any idea of this happening. Shame sat upon his masked features and settled its way down to his throat. His tongue searched for something to say. An apology, perhaps? That was all he knew to do in a moment like this. Apologize for the inconvenience, apologize for the worries he must have induced, apologize for the disturbance of his master’s rest, apologize, apologize, apolo-

“You don’t have to feel bad, Sooga, I know you put all that pressure on yourself,” Master Kohga said. Sooga’s head turned towards the unmasked man beside him in utter surprise. Had he suddenly learned a new technique for mind-reading? “Nightmares suck. Real bad. I get it.”

Rather than questioning how he knew such an appropriate response, Sooga nodded, and dared to ask a different question. 

“What...happens? When you are brought to notice I am not resting well, that is,” Sooga asked quietly, head turning away once more. It was no surprise that Sooga was soft-spoken, but that was out of his own self-discipline. His day-to-day tone was based on leadership and careful thought, but this...this was a tone Kohga had never heard from his friend before. This was laced with fear. 

“Well, ah,” Kohga started. His brown eyes softened as he recalled one night waking to Sooga thrashing about their shared covers, murmuring something like a cry for help. To another night where Sooga had begun shaking uncontrollably. To a night just last week when he unmistakably heard a pleading for someone to stop. Stop what, Kohga didn’t know, and he knew even less of who it could be about. Even his best attempts to wake his second-in-command went without fruition. “Sometimes you say stuff. Sleep-talker nonsense, yunno, I usually don’t have a clue what you’re going on about. But you always seem so...scared.”

I always hold you when they get bad like that, Kohga wanted to say. The words were right there, threatening to spill out of him all at once in a jumble of messy worries and care that the Yiga master so desperately wanted to confess. But this wasn’t the time. 

Kohga left out the part where he’d always wrap his arms around a nightmare-stricken Sooga to calm his shakes and trembles. He left out the part where he’d draped a hand across Sooga’s chest and gently adjusted his mask enough to wipe away the hidden tears. He left out the part where he’d discovered that nuzzling his face into Sooga’s neck would cause the larger man to remember he was safe and briefly find relief. At least, Kohga hoped he did.

“I am sorry you have seen me in such weakness, Master Kohga..” Sooga finally replied, bringing Kohga back to the present moment. Kohga was right next to him, but still, the man seemed so far away.

“Being afraid isn’t weakness. Everybody gets scared of stuff, even me,” Kohga nudged Sooga’s side in a lighthearted gesture, as they both knew just how terrified the ‘fearless leader of the Yiga Clan’ could really get. “This world’s full of some scary shit. You’re allowed to get scared, no matter how strong you are. And you’re, like, the strongest guy I know, besides me of course.”

“You truly believe that?”

“Course I do! I mean look atcha, you’re twice my size and a badass,  dual-wielding blademaster. There’s no one in the world cooler than you and me, big guy.”

Sooga cracked a smile at that.

“My point is,” Kohga continued, “You don’t have to save face with me. Dream demons get to me too, yunno, that’s why I’ve got my big strong bodyguard next to me every night. That’s what makes me not so scared anymore. I know that nothin’s gonna get to me because if it tries, I’ve got you.”

Kohga paused, eyes drifting over to where Sooga’s own eye would be. “So, I wanna help you feel protected from ‘em, too.”

“But that is my job-” Sooga tried to protest, turning back to face his master.

“You deserve to feel safe, too, Sooga.”

Sooga was silent at this. They sat in the silence for a while, just simply staring at each other. Master Kohga’s brow furrowed in the rare serious manner that it did. He was determined to get Sooga to see how much he cared. He would do anything to help him, if only Sooga would allow it.

The warrior next to him saw that determination in his chocolate brown eyes, paired with another feeling he couldn’t quite pin. Whatever it was, it was inviting. Sooga couldn’t help but want to see it more. He wanted to share moments like this more, where it was just the two of them and neither put on a show. Moments where he could see the bouncing curls that framed Kohga’s chubby cheeks up close, and feel the warmth from his gaze. Perhaps one day, even, Sooga could let go of his own mask.

Kohga sighed, which led to a loud, long yawn overtaking his features. The plump clan master gave a little stretch and sat back against the wall. If Sooga didn’t want to, he wouldn’t bring it up again.

“I’m not gonna force you or anything, I just-”

“I would like to feel safe with you,” The words tumbled out of Sooga’s mouth before he had the notion to stop them. Somewhere along the lines, his hand had grabbed Kohga’s and was now clutching it tight. He hardly knew what he was doing, but didn’t back down. It felt right. “There are many things I must atone for. I do not know how to achieve this peace just yet, but…”

Kohga squeezed his hand back, trying to ignore the blatant blush dusting his cheeks. If not for the dark, surely Sooga would have seen and fretted over his health, as he often did, but Kohga wouldn’t mind. He never minded. 

“I’ll be here the whole time,” He assured. And he meant it. Whatever Sooga needed, Kohga would offer help. It was obvious that the masked man was holding onto something painful, and Kohga would offer his support in any way that he could. Even if it interrupted his sleeping schedule.

Another yawn bubbled up from Kohga’s chest, and when he tried to stifle it, it forced out as a hiccup anyway. 

Way to ruin a moment, Kohga thought.

Cute, Sooga chuckled to himself.

“Perhaps we should return to bed, and continue this in the morning,” Sooga offered. Master Kohga’s shoulders visibly relaxed in relief as he slumped his face into Sooga’s chest. It felt like two muscular pillows smushing against his cheeks, a blessing from Hylia probably. Er, Ganon. Totally meant Ganon.

“Yes please,” He whined pitifully. Another chuckle rumbled through Sooga’s chest, vibrating Kohga’s whole head. 

This time, Sooga took to reading his master’s mind. His strong arms effortlessly picked up the stouter man and cradled him against his chest, as if Kohga were a bride. The night air brought a chill, after all, and Kohga had only dressed his robe over his undergarments. He looked down to the half-lidded face against him.

“I do appreciate your words, Master Kohga. I will always remember your kindness,” Sooga whispered above the wind. He looked down at the bundle of a man for a response, but only found soft snoring instead. 

The stupendous chief of the Yiga Clan was asleep before his sentence was finished. 

Sooga’s smile was soft. The winds of the desert night rolled behind him deep in the valley, and Sooga turned away from them feeling slightly freer. If any dream demons dared test his patience this night again, this time they would be answering to the courageous man in his arms.

#Master Kohga #Sooga #hwaoc #loz botw #age of calamity #yiga husbands #yiga clan #Master Kohga x Sooga #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #pre-calamity #Fanfics

[thebonerpit]

suck it and see [FIC]

suck it and see

Rom Howney, 2749 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

Robert invites Tom over for dinner. Has his gag reflex improved? (Not me writing a sequel to this fic almost a year later...)

Five months later, and Tom is wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

After “The Call”, as he’s been referring to it, Robert has been nothing but sweet and courteous and respectful. Once the post-orgasm adrenaline faded, Tom hasn’t been able to drum up the courage to talk about what happened between them and Robert never brings it up explicitly either. It’s been months of brief text threads during quiet moments, the odd video of Robert’s cats or a photo of the sunset, and Tom getting embarrassingly hard whenever Robert says something remotely flirty. Nothing at all that suggests it might ever happen again. That is, until Tom mentions he’s going to be in L.A. for a week.

“Come see me. I’ll make you dinner.”

“YOU’LL make me dinner? Or your private chef will make me dinner?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me you little shit. Tuesday work for you?”

It doesn’t, but Tom rearranges his entire schedule to get there.

The black jeans he’s chosen are practically painted on, but in an effort to appear completely casual and unbothered he throws on a soft pastel pink hoodie and a baseball cap. No need to mention how long he takes in the shower beforehand. No need at all.

The Uber drops him off and he notes that there are no other cars to be seen, and very few lights on in the house. He didn’t even consider that they might actually be alone and now that it’s hitting him he kind of feels like throwing up. Before he can scope out the best bush to heave into, the door opens.

“I know my front yard is pretty amazing but are you going to stand out here all night?”

Oddly enough, seeing him in person, leaning against the door frame with a dish towel in one hand, Robert Downey Jr. in the flesh, actually calms him down. His brain reroutes from panic to excitement and he rushes forward to give him a tight hug, which Robert gladly returns.

“Good to see you,” he says quietly, almost directly into Tom’s ear. The closeness makes him shiver slightly but he manages to cover it with another tight squeeze before rocking back on his heels.

“Same, boss,” he says with a broad smile. Robert cocks his head and smiles back fondly before patting his cheek and stepping back into the foyer.

“Come on, it’s almost ready.”

“Are you really cooking for me?”

“Of course,” he says, like he’s offended Tom is even asking.

It smells incredible, whatever it is, and Tom removes his hat, happily perches on a bar stool, and accepts the beer Robert hands him. They chat amiably while Robert cooks, and soon Tom forgets why he was ever nervous in the first place. It’s just like how it was on set, or backstage at some industry event, joking and laughing and catching each other up on their respective lives. One of the cats jumps up and kneads at Tom’s lap for a while before padding away to search for its own dinner.

Domestic, Tom thinks briefly, before shooing that horrible thought away.

Dinner is pasta with homemade sauce and Tom devours it.

Robert raises an eyebrow as he slurps up his last noodle and Tom sheepishly hides behind his napkin as he tries to wipe off the spattering of red sauce on his cheek.

“S’really good,” he mutters, and Robert just laughs.

He helps him clean up, despite Robert’s protests. He sets the last pot on the rack to dry and turns to see Robert staring at him, a contemplative expression on his gorgeous face.

“What? More pasta sauce?” Tom asks, swiping at the corner of his lips with one thumb.

“Nah. Just looking.”

“Oh. Ok?”

Robert smirks and saunters over and Tom feels his back hit the fridge. Trapped. Nowhere to go.

“This is cute,” Robert says, tugging at the string of Tom’s hoodie. “Suits you.”

“Uh. Thanks,” Tom replies dumbly, unable to look away from Robert’s mouth. He barely catches the way Robert’s eyes flick up to his own before he looks away and exhales softly. It’s a sound of resignation, and Tom’s heart speeds up to a panicked flutter. As soon as Robert starts to back away, he snakes his arm out and grasps on to his wrist. It shocks them both and they can’t do anything but stare at each other for a moment before Tom finally caves and lets himself think with his dick.

He opens his mouth, extends his tongue slightly, and waits.

Robert’s eyes are dark, the gorgeous honey-brown devoured by his pupils, and Tom sees him swallow. He does his best to encourage him, to beg without saying a word, but when Robert still hesitates, he slowly drags his hand up to hover between them. Then he lets go of Robert’s wrist. It’s on him now, and he looks very much aware of this fact.

“You sure?” he finally rasps out. Always the gentleman, even when Tom doesn’t want him to be. He nods and sticks out his tongue even more, his eyes almost crossing at he stares at Robert’s thick fingers just inches away from his mouth.

“Have you been thinking about this?” he asks. Tom nods again and shivers as those fingers run the length of his jaw. “Yeah. Me too.”

Without warning he pushes two fingers into Tom’s mouth, dragging them across his tongue and settling them just past the second knuckle. Tom whines and starts to close his lips around them but Robert’s other hand darts up quickly to grab his chin.

“Ah-ah,” he tuts. “Did I say you could do that?”

The blood that rushes immediately downwards nearly makes Tom pass out.

Robert pets his tongue until Tom’s mouth overflows with saliva and it starts dripping down his chin and on to his hoodie.

“Such a messy boy,” Robert says. Tom gurgles out a moan which makes Robert tighten his grip on his jaw. “On your knees.”

Tom drops so fast he feels his knees crack against the marble tile. It hurts but he doesn’t even care. All he can feel is his dick hard against the zipper of his jeans and Robert’s fingers dragging through his hair.

“So pretty,” he murmurs as he lets his fingers slip out of Tom’s mouth.

Tom tries to lean in, close the distance between his mouth and the growing bulge in Robert’s jeans, but he feels those fingers tighten in his hair. He glances up and sees Robert staring down at him with an expression not dissimilar to the one he had months ago on their video call.

“If you want to stop, all you have to do is say the word.” Robert’s voice is quiet but steady. “Or pinch me really hard if your mouth is… otherwise occupied.”

Tom shudders at the implications of that.

“I need to hear you say you understand.”

“I do! I… I understand. Want this, want you, everything… anything you want,” Tom says, tripping over his words in his haste to reassure him because he thinks if Robert stops now he might actually cry.

Robert exhales sharply through his nose. “Jesus… fucking… alright. Ok. Get up, follow me.”

Tom scrambles up off the floor and follows Robert as he leads him through into what looks like a den. It’s dimly lit, thick curtains pulled closed on the windows, and the walls are lined with bookshelves. Robert pulls him down on to a plush couch and takes his jaw in his hand again, licking his lips before diving in for a searing kiss, and Tom allows himself to be devoured. He suddenly realizes that this is actually their first kiss, but before he can dwell on it too long Robert pulls back and, as gently as possible, pushes him down to the floor between his knees.

“I hope you’ve been practicing more,” Robert says as he undoes his jeans. “Show me what you can do.”

As soon as the fabric of Robert’s boxers is out of the way, Tom doesn’t hesitate. He’s been waiting for this for months and the sight of that gorgeous cock in front of him makes his mouth water. He takes the head in his mouth without preamble and the low groan that Robert lets out spurs him on to take even more. It’s a bit messy, saliva already dripping out the sides of his mouth, but if the noises Robert is making are any indication, he’s doing a pretty damn good job regardless. He feels those thick fingers curl back into his hair and only has a moment to steel himself before Robert’s hips snap up and he chokes, eyes watering immediately as the thick cock tries to force its way down his throat. He tries to relax but it doesn’t work and he has to pull away, coughing and wiping at his chin.

“S-sorry, let me… I can—”

“Shh, no, you were doing well. I shouldn’t have… couldn’t help myself.”

Fuck, he sounds wrecked already. Pride bubbles up in Tom’s stomach and he dares to look up and offer a small smile, batting his eyelashes just a little.

“Want to keep going,” he says, “please?”

Robert bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before shifting on the couch.

“Come up here, let me… here, just like this.” He pulls Tom up like he weighs nothing, arranges him on the couch so he’s laying on his back with his head hanging off the edge.

“It’s easier like this, sweet thing,” Robert says as he stands over him. “Opens your throat up. Do you trust me?”

“God, yes,” Tom breathes out. He knows he should behave and wait for instructions but he can’t help surging up to lick at the base of Robert’s cock, hanging heavy over his face. It makes him shudder and Tom feels a drop of precome fall on his cheek.

He sees Robert shudder and gets a gentle slap across his face as a reward.

“Brat,” he rasps out before shoving his cock down Tom’s throat.

The angle is so strange and Tom’s eyes widen with panic before he realizes that yeah, it actually is easier like this? Once you get used to the whole upside-down part. He trusts Robert to hold his head as he relaxes his muscles, letting his throat go slack and just accepting every thick inch he gets.

There’s a bitten-out curse as Tom feels his nose press against Robert’s balls.

“Give me—fuck, your hand,” Robert says. He obeys, immediately, and Robert brings it up to wrap around Tom’s own throat. “Can you feel it?”

Tom nearly shoots off right then and there as Robert moves and oh my fucking god yes he can feel it. The thick line of Robert’s cock is stretching his throat out and he gurgles out a moan around it which makes it twitch against his hand.

“Such a pretty little cocksucker,” he grunts. Tom bucks his hips into the air, desperate for friction, Robert’s dirty words turning him on more than he could have ever imagined.

“Look at you… you want to touch yourself, hm?”

Tom can’t answer so he just whines and wiggles his hips again which causes Robert to grunt and jerk forward which in turn causes Tom to choke and gag again. Robert immediately pulls out and pets the side of Tom’s head while he inhales shakily, catching his breath.

“Ok?” he asks, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s swollen bottom lip.

“Yeah… ok.” Tom is shocked by the sound of his own voice, raw and scratchy and thick. Thank fucking god he doesn’t have to work for the next little while. “More?”

Robert chuckles and leans down to kiss along the side of his neck. “Want to see you come with my dick down your throat. Can you do that for me?”

“Fuck… fuck, yeah, yeah I can do that.” He scrabbles at the buttons and zippers on his jeans and shoves them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. His hoodie is already a mess, covered in his own spit, but he pulls it up his chest anyway. If this also happens to show off his cut abs and pink nipples, well, it’s just a bonus. He hears Robert groan softly and then suddenly his field of vision is eclipsed by a furred stomach as Robert leans over him to kiss at his chest, his hipbones, and fuck, Robert’s mouth is on his dick.

“Ohmygod,” he slurs, digging his nails into the fabric of the couch as an incredibly skilled tongue laves up and down his erection. He can feel the bristle of Robert’s beard on his thighs and it sends electric shivers through his body.

“Tastes so good,” Robert murmurs, licking up one side and then sucking on the head briefly before letting Tom’s cock fall back against his stomach with a loud slap. Tom whimpers – actually whimpers – as Robert pushes himself back upright and he can see the cocky smirk on his face even from this strange angle.

“There, made it nice and wet for you. Go on sweetheart, show me how pretty you look when you come, hm?”

Tom doesn’t have time to answer as Robert slides his cock back into his throat. The sensation of that alone makes his eyes roll back in his head but now that he has permission to touch himself, he doesn’t hesitate. The slickness from Robert’s saliva eases the way for his own hand as he jerks himself off quickly, no patience for finesse or teasing, just pure need racing through his veins. He gets close embarrassingly fast, partly thanks to the steady stream of filth that Robert is muttering above him.

“That’s it, just like that baby, so fucking pretty aren’t you? You like having a nice fat dick down your throat, hm? Yeah, I know you do, look at you, just made for it, fuck, yeah, keep touching yourself, keep jerking that pretty cock sweetheart, make a mess of yourself for me, come on, come on, let me see you…”

It’s relentless and Tom can’t get enough. He doesn’t want it to end, quite frankly, but he’s teetering right on the edge and when Robert simultaneously shoves himself as deep as he can go and squeezes a hand around his throat he jerks violently and comes all over himself. It’s the most powerful orgasm he’s ever had and his body feels like it will never stop convulsing. It’s only when he finally relaxes enough to try to catch his breath that he realizes that he can’t actually breathe at all. Robert is still buried deep in his throat, grinding his hips against his face like Tom is just a warm, wet hole to be used. It sends a brief flutter of panic through him, but it also makes his spent cock twitch against his stomach. Robert is grunting and Tom feels drops of sweat landing on his chest, mixing with the cooling puddles of come. He must be close. He has to be. He needs to be or Tom is going to actually pass out.

He’s just about to raise his hand to pinch Robert’s thigh when he feels a rush of warmth slide down his throat. It’s so deep he can’t even taste it until Robert pulls out and lets the rest drip all over his mouth and face. As Tom gasps for breath Robert maneuvers him into a sitting position and rubs at his back, soothing him as he coughs and sniffles and wipes at the absolute mess on his face with his ruined hoodie. When he finally settles a bit he can hear Robert murmuring to him.

“Such a good boy… such a good boy, sweetheart, you did so well, that’s it, deep breaths…”

Tom sniffles again and blinks up at Robert’s face. He smiles softly.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Feeling ok?”

Tom nods. His throat is killing him but he doesn’t want to make Robert feel bad about it. Plus, he asked for it and he doesn’t know if it makes him a little fucked up in the head for liking it.

“I… I want…”

“Shh, don’t try to talk now. Let me get you some water. You…” Robert pauses. He leans in and kisses Tom’s forehead almost chastely. “You were incredible. Just sit. Let me take care of you.”

Tom smiles again and nestles into the crook of Robert’s neck, sated and content.

#rom howney #marvel rpf #nff #tbpwrites

[winterscaptain]

emergency.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

a/n: credit for this awesome idea goes to snow (@agenthotchner original post linked here)! 

warnings: there’s some description of a decent-sized cut across the palm of the hand and the treatment of said cut in an emergency room, as well as some swearing rating/word count: t / 2096

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open!

+++

“Really, I’m alright,” you assured your (very well-meaning) neighbor. She was dead-set on getting you checked in at the emergency room, even though you insisted you could stitch yourself up at home. You brought your medical packet with you – including all the intake forms, copies of your credentials, and your emergency contact information. Your go bag was at your side, packed and ready with three days’ worth of clothes.

Your neighbor stayed with you until she was sure you wouldn’t bolt, leaving you as soon as someone called you to the back.

Another Tuesday night, another kitchen accident. You’d sliced your hand open while cutting an avocado for a late-night snack. Fortunately, it was your non-dominant hand. Unfortunately, your neighbor caught you as you scuttled to your car for your first aid kit.

So here you were, sitting on the edge of a bed in one of the private emergency rooms while a nurse flushed the wound and prepared it for stitches.

+++

“Hotchner.” Aaron sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Am I speaking to Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes. May I ask who’s calling?”

As he listened to the emergency room admin tell him about your incident, he threw on a pair of jeans and a black v-neck from the drawer. He called Jessica as soon as the nurse finished relaying the address to the ER closest to your home. Jess was in the neighborhood, coming from a girl’s night with friends, thank God.

With a kiss to his sister-in-law’s cheek and an earnest “Thank you,” he was in the car and on the way.

+++

There was some kind of commotion right outside your door, but you were busy watching the nurse as she applied local anesthetic to your hand and wrist. The bleeding had slowed enough for the nurse to maintain it with a few swipes every minute or so, and you could see the extent of the damage.

You’re a fucking moron, you know that?

You rolled your eyes at yourself and was only a little startled when the door flew open.

“Hotch?”

He checked in with the nurse, who smiled and nodded at him over your hand. Suddenly, he was sitting right next to you, looking over your intake paperwork. “They called me. I got here as fast as I could.”

Shit. “God, I’m so sorry. I forget you’re the first on my emergency contact list.” You bit your lip. “I really should make it Emily or Penelope or someone who doesn’t have kids.” You said it more to yourself than him.

To your surprise, he laughed. “No, it’s okay. Jess was in town, and Jack is still sleeping. I’m glad I can be here for you.”

+++

When they pulled out the suturing material, you paled and blindly reached for Hotch’s hand. Instead of just taking it, he tucked your head into his chest, holding you there with one hand while he rubbed soothing circles on the back of your free hand with his thumb.

You probably looked silly, tucked into your friend’s chest while your arm was fully extended to your side, under a blindingly bright light. You couldn’t feel the stitches, but it still squicked you out.

Hotch’s voice rumbled through you as he spoke close to your ear. “You’re okay. Breathe with me.”

“Hotch...” It came out as a bit of a panicked whine as you heard the doctor shuffle some tools around.

“Aaron.” He squeezed your hand. “Aaron’s just fine. It’ll be over soon. Just a little while longer.”

You took a few shaky breaths in time with his, but your hand was still a vice grip around his. He smelled really good. You knew that already, having sat next to him on the plane more than once, but it was different without the professional boundaries.

And without the suit.

“You’re doing great. Squeeze as hard as you can and keep breathing with me.” His voice was gentle and constant. It was sufficiently distracting.

Oh, right. He’s coached someone through literal childbirth before.

God, you’re such a baby.

“I’m sorry I’m such a baby.”

He laughed, taking care not to jostle you. “We’re all babies over something.”

“You’re not a baby over anything.” It came out as a grouchy gripe, your humor not strong enough to get past the tightness of your jaw.

After a moment, he shrugged around you. “Spiders. I hate them.”

You lifted your head, keeping your arm steady. The hand holding you to him dropped to your waist, where his protective grip kept you centered. “Really?”

Brown eyes smiled down at you. “Really. Jack takes after his mother and thinks it’s hilarious. ”

A shaky smile crossed your face, and you heard the telltale rasp of ripping gauze.

“All done,” the nurse said. “You’re good to go. Change the dressings daily and take care not to rip the stitches. They will dissolve on their own in about a week.”

+++

“Hotch, I can really manage on my own.”

“You have your go bag, and I know for a fact you’ll rip the stitches in your haste to grab something on your way out the door tomorrow morning.”

You couldn’t argue with him there. He pulled into his driveway and helped you out of the car.

When you were safely inside with Jessica headed home, you took your pain meds while Aaron locked his gun away.

“Oh shit,” you said, checking your bag. “I don’t have my gun. It’s in my safe at home.”

“You can use my second. I know you prefer the Glock 26, but my 17 is about the same weight in the trigger.” He handed you a mug of tea and plopped down on the couch. “I can have Anderson grab yours during the day tomorrow if we get called out on a case.”

“Thanks.” The gesture didn’t go unnoticed – offering his second gun was like offering his right arm. You settled down beside him, tucking your feet under you. “I can make up the couch, so you can head to bed. I’ve kept you up long enough.”

“You know where the linens are?” He asked, one eyebrow aloft.

“I have built many a fort with Jack, and I pay enough attention to get around.” At his dubious glance, you continued. “Second hall closet, third shelf. Blankets, sheets, and an extra pillow.” You smiled at him over your mug.

“You know...” he swallowed and seemed to struggle with his words. “You don’t have to make up the couch if you’d be more comfortable in my room.”

“Trying to get me in bed, Hotchner?”

He floundered for a moment, and you laughed softly.

“I’m kidding.” You set your mug on the coffee table and brushed his hair back with your good hand. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on it.”

“I definitely don’t mind.” He leaned into your touch like a cat.

He’s adorable.

“Thank you for staying with me tonight.” Your hand fell to his jaw, where your thumb brushed back and forth on his cheekbone.

Careful, don’t want to cut your other hand on that.

His eyes closed as you took more of his weight into your hand. “Of course.” He turned his head and kissed your palm.

Your heart jumped into your throat. He gently picked up your injured hand in his and pressed a kiss to your gauze covered knuckles. That particular act didn’t do anything to lower your heart rate. He released your hands, soft and gentle, and led the way down the hallway toward his room.

Jack’s door was open, and you saw his little sleeping form by the glow of his nightlight, curled in a ball. You wondered if the Hotchner boys slept the same way.

You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?

Jesus.

“You can borrow one of my shirts,” Hotch said, closing the door quietly behind you, “since yours is...” He gestured to your t-shirt, and you note the blood down the front of it.

“Damn. I liked this one.”

Hotch smiled with one side of his mouth. “I’ll soak it overnight. We’ll probably be able to save it.” He turned and shuffled through his drawer, pulling out what looked to be a worn-in FBI Academy shirt and some flannel pajama pants. “These should cinch enough for you.”

You took them from him with your good hand. “Thanks, Aaron.”

His hands lingered over yours under the soft fabric. “Bathroom’s through that door – take your time. There are extra toothbrushes in the cabinet to the left of the sink. Make yourself at home.”

You settled into the en suite bathroom as he padded down the hall. You changed quickly, brushed your teeth (twice), and draped your bloodied shirt and pants on the edge of the sink.

Hotch was pulling back the covers and checking his email when you walked back out. He looked up and smiled at you.

When he brushed past you to soak your clothes in the sink, your heart caught in your throat again.

You slipped into bed, your back to the bathroom door. You closed your eyes and tried in vain to fall asleep before he returned.

You failed.

The lights in the room went out, leaving the blue cast of moonlight in front of your eyelids. You felt the bed dip as Hotch tucked in beside you.

“You’re terrible at pretending to sleep,” he whispered.

You could tell he was close to you, but when you opened your eyes you saw how close. His face was peaceful in the dark, his mouth and brow relaxed (for once).

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

You rolled your eyes and shut them again, insistent this time. “I’m ignoring you, Hotch.”

“Oh, so it’s Hotch now?”

“It is when it's nearly two in the morning and we have to leave for work in six hours,” you grumbled.

He chuckled, and his minty breath fanned over your face. You could feel him sober, and you opened your eyes. His face was pensive, and you were caught off guard by how open and expressive he was at home. You could read everything on his face as if it was printed out and handed to you.

“I don’t-“ he stopped, and his mouth pressed into a thin line for a moment. “I know we’re both adults who can share a bed without anything going on.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, doing your best to hide your amusement.

“What I mean is, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or –“

You pressed a finger to his lips. “Aaron, shh.” You let your smile shine through for a moment. “I’m here because I want to be, and I’m next to you because I want to be, okay?”

He nodded, still watching you carefully. You removed your finger from his mouth, ignoring the thrill it sent through you.

Adults. Adults who can share a bed without anything going on.

You rolled over and got comfortable, smooshing the pillow underneath your head. With your good hand, you reached behind you and searched until you found Aaron’s shirt.

“C’mere.”

He huffed a laugh and curled up behind you, snug from shoulders to calves. His arm hovered over your waist for a moment. You squished it to you, lacing your fingers with his over your belly.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

He hummed and tucked his face into your shoulder. “Anytime.”

“If you want...” you trailed off, your bravery evaporating when you actually processed what was about to come out of your mouth.

“If I want...” he echoed. You could hear the smile.

“You could – You could kiss me if you wanted to.”

Well, there it was.

You felt lips press to the soft fabric over your shoulder, trailing up to the sensitive skin near the collar.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, and you suddenly felt fully and pleasantly warm.

When you turned your head, he was waiting for you. Yes, the angle was awkward and it was dark, but maybe laughing into each other’s mouths wasn’t as embarrassing as it seemed.

He kissed you once, twice, three times. There was a sweetness, a chasteness about it. You’d both waited a long time, and it wasn’t like you didn’t want to jump his bones, but now was decidedly not the time.

You turned back around and pressed back against him as to not miss out on a single millimeter of contact.

Your sleep took you quickly, and you nearly forgot about the nine stitches in your palm.

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @happyhotchner @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #hotch #tali writes fanfiction

[theobligatedklutz]

Would you write more book club + sunset curve hcs please

Part 2 to @lyra-pador 's post with my addition (thank you for letting me use your brain child)

One book club meeting, Margie asks Luke if he takes requests and he gets so excited, he starts hopping around like a puppy because they actually like our music ("they don't count, they're adults" "shuddup Alex, Margie doesn't like anything but she likes our music!"). "Yes! Yes! We take requests." "Do you know Brandy?" And of course he does, they do, they are not neadrathals. And so they play the tune and at the chorus, every one sings along and Luke has never been happier.

It's Alex's birthday when Carolyn shows up at a book club meeting, unexpected. She never ever shows up for two consecutive meetings like this and everyone is curious as to why until she hands Alex a book wrapped in red ribbon and ruffles his hair and tells him "happy birthday, 'lex." Alex just about dies right then and there. Because his parents didn't remember or didn't care, the only people who knew about it were Luke and Reggie, yet here is Carolyn wishing him a happy birthday and he starts crying. Carolyn isn't expecting it because the next moment, she has her arms full of tall blonde BABIE.

Linda nearly sprints to the nearby bakery to get Alex a cake. And yells at the boys to tell her when they're all born because this can't happen again, she can't buy a store-bought cake again.

Jill has this warm checkered red flannel that she wears around the house on cold days and Reggie takes his chance one day when it's sitting, undisturbed, on the arms of the sofa in Jill's living room. He puts it on and when Jill finally notices after their weekend dinner together, she smiles and pretends not to. It's when Reggie is about to leave that he realizes he still has it on and he apologizes to Jill and tries to take it off. "Keep it." She tells him and kisses his forehead for the first time. And he hasn't been kissed on the forehead for such a long time that he almost doesn't understand it. "Thanks..." he almost utters the word 'mom' but hesitates. He wishes now that he said it then.

When Linda finds out about Luke being a runaway (from Mr. Jenkins, the gossip) and Alex and Reggie spending most of their time out of home, she starts bringing ziplock bags to every bookclub meeting, telling the boys to take whatever they want from the snack table. The snack table is no longer the snack table when the rest of the members find out (they all start bringing in lasagnas, casserole, pot pies, beef roast (you name it!) for the boys to take with them; "don't worry about returning the dishes, hon.").

Reggie finds out one of the bookclub ladies, a nice 40-something year old named Enid, is learning the bass and he takes it upon himself to give her lessons. She tries to pay him for his services but he refuses, he tells her the only currency he'll take is sunset curve propaganda; "just tell your friends about us, we're sunset curve!" Enid forces her 13-year-old her to make flyers for the band, spreading them around the block, around town and yelling "they're sunset curve, tell your friends!"

Luke sometimes asks Mr. Jenkins how his mom and dad are doing and Mr. J always puts a hand to his shoulder and tells him "they really want you home." Of course, Luke never listens.

Alex gathers the stack of LGBTQ+ novels he's gathered up in the garage (because he can't take them home) to return to Carolyn. She doesn't take them, tells him to keep them. "...I..I can't. They are cluttering up the garage and I can't take them home..." A look of rage, then sadness passes across Carolyn's face before she tells him she understands. "My house is always open to you. You know that, right?" And that night, Alex dreams about having Carolyn as his mother, never a cold touch, never the unacceptance, and a library filled with books about queer love stories... he smiles in his sleep.

With the argument with his mom and his haste to get away, Luke forgets to take his lucky blue rabbit's foot with him the night he runs away from home. Emily knows Luke doesn't go anywhere without it because she gave it to him, she remembers how quickly he became attached to it and how "mom, I've gotten every gig since I started taking it with me everywhere." She gives it to Mr. Jenkins to give back to Luke. Unbeknownst to everyone, it's Luke's last meeting with the bookclub when Mr. Jenkins hands him the rabbit's foot. Luke gets all glassy-eyed, thanks Mr. J quietly before retreating to a corner and fiddling with the thing. "It really is lucky." Because they book the Orpheum that week.

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms netflix #sunset curve #the chaos trio #book club #luke patterson #alex jatp #reggie jatp #jatpweek #myhcs #book club + sunset curve #hilow answers

[its-sixxers]

Swan Song

Ulfric Stormcloak is dead. The civil war is halted - for now. Alduin awaits. Idunn and Tandreth are all too aware of the fate of heroes.

(borderline wip but a snippet in apology for my absence <3)

Despite centuries living, Tandreth had at last discovered something he’d never witnessed before.

What it felt like to be a hero.

Amidst the ruin Whiterun rose from the ashes like a phoenix to celebrate - the dead were buried, injuries nursed, grudges put to bed. Tandreth still felt the sting of where the Ulfric’s blade had bit into his ribs, but the mead of Jarl Balgruuf had quelled his pain. Throughout the night toasts had been made even when the scent of burned flesh still lingered even in Dragonsreach - the Companions often the source of uproarious laughter, the local bard testing out a few new verses in his attempt to give the event justice.

Tandreth had been fawned over, and if it were only a few years ago he’d have been happy to take to bed a train of admirers. As he sat at the feast table, however, he was only all too aware that his fame was based solely on his proximity to others - and for the first time, he was content in that knowledge.

Azuraansi sat near the Jarl himself, nursing her single goblet of wine and leaning in conspiratorially between Balgruuf and Irileth, discussing matters he couldn’t imagine. Whatever they were, it brought a smile to her usually icy features - though colored with a hearty dose of exhaustion.  Tandreth smiled in turn to see his twin sister flattered and content, to be recognized for her ability and to, for once, not have her victory turn to ashes in her hands.

Most of his attention was diverted to the guest of honor, however.

Idunn - Dragonborn, who’d come to Whiterun’s aid on a dragon with he and his sister in tow, who’d engaged Ulfric Stormcloak in single combat, whose Shouts had caused lighting to crack across the sky and who sang with every sweep of her warhammer. She’d been like Ysgramor himself, like Talos, like any other figure of legend - auburn hair blazing, so young, and yet she could not mirror the smiles and cheers offered her. Instead she let Raansi engage with the Jarl and the excited elite of Whiterun, preferring to stare into her goblet of mead. 

Ulfric Stormcloak was dead. It was cause for celebration for many - it should have been cause for celebration for her.

Yet despite the man’s many sins, Idunn was no executioner.

By the time Tandreth finally managed to gain an opportunity to politely excuse himself from the feast table, she was absent. Unmissed - Talos was charismatic, Ysgramor larger than life. Idunn always seemed to try her best to fade into the background, to bore any who tried to engage with her. 

Slipping into the shadows was second nature, and all the easier with most of the Great Hall too inebriated to perceive anything but their own joy. Tandreth slipped away from the celebratory feast and into Dragonsreach’s state quarters, all revelry muffled by the thick oak doors closing behind him.

Moonlight trickled in through the windows of the back hall high above. The place was unguarded - whether those assigned to their posts were dead or excused was beyond Tandreth’s knowledge, but the thought of the keep’s inhabitants unguarded as they slept unsettled him. Quickly he made haste to the quarters that had been granted to Idunn - those that used to belong to the Jarl’s wife, at the pinnacle of Dragonsreach’s many steps. His own were at a lower level, and were it not for Irileth’s own status he’d wonder if it was a slight.

The carved door to Idunn’s chambers was unlocked, not that it’d be a concern for him if it wasn’t - and quietly he cracked it open to peer inside.

Idunn wasn’t in her bed. He knew it the moment the sound of snoring didn’t meet his ears, and quietly he slipped inside. The curtains shifted from an incoming draft, and he knew where to go.

Beyond the solar was the bedroom, whose north wall possessed a great stone arch framed by woven linen curtains that led to a stone balcony beyond. Multicolored lights spilled through the windows onto the four poster bed.

A familiar figure stood on the balcony, backlit by the aurora.

Whiterun’s tundra stretched for miles below, the night sky above splashed with the watercolor of numerous shifting lights. Idunn leaned against the banister wearing nothing but a man’s undershirt, hem laying across the middle of her powerful thighs. Tandreth could see numerous bruises blooming upon her pale skin, as varied in color as the night sky above.

“It’s your night, you know. You should enjoy it.” Tandreth said gently, announcing his presence. Idunn only turned her head a fraction to acknowledge him, her cheeks shining with what he knew were shed tears. Slowly he approached, coming to her side by the banister. 

“There’s nothing to celebrate.” she answered, voice thin. Yes, she’d been crying. “The Plains District is ashes. Good people are dead.”

“Yes.” Tandreth agreed, watching her white-knuckle grip on the banister. “But more would have perished if it wasn’t for you. The day’s won. Now’s for drinking, to forget the bloodshed, to relish being alive.”

Idunn dropped her gaze to him, looking more afraid than he’d ever seen her. It made something in his chest clench to see it - the whites of her eyes in the dark. “For how long?”

He offered his best smile in an effort to reassure her. “For eternity, if we’re lucky. Maybe Nine will become Ten. Say hello to Dibella for me if that’s the case, she’s always sounded like a fun time.”

The effort fell flat, for Idunn made a choked noise in her throat and looked back to the tundra below - to the embers that yet burned, further evidence of battle hidden by the dark. “There’s only one thing left, now.”

Alduin. A fear marked by the panic in her face whenever a shadow crossed the sky. A god. How could anyone kill a god?

Unbidden Tandreth’s hand settled upon her own, his dark skin a stark contrast to hers. The action stilled her ragged breathing, granting him some relief. “You’ve succeeded in everything. You can do this. I’m with you, for what little it helps. I believe in you.” The expected words. The words he was supposed to say.

Again she shook her head. “That’s not what I’m worried about.” she whispered. “It’s what happens after.”

“After?” Tandreth looked up at her quizzically, his traitorous hand gently stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “Whatever you want. No one can stop you. I’m certain the Empire will give you enough coin to buy anything you please for Ulfric’s head-”

“No.” Idunn said emphatically, suddenly pulling her hand away from his. Tandreth’s palm burned from the absence. “All of the stories. All the heroes die. Ulfric was a hero, to the Stormcloaks. They never… They never…”

“Happily ever afters are boring.” Tandreth replied, anxiety building in his chest from this line of conversation. Ulfric’s death had rattled her, and he knew it was for more reasons than the man’s status as hero. This battle was beyond him, something scum like him had no hope of fighting. “And those are just stories, Idunn, they aren’t-”

“You said so yourself.” she interrupted. “Heroes don’t get happy endings. It’s a lie.”

It caused his cheeks to flush, bile to rise in his throat. Yes, he’d told her as much - told her in as few words as he could manage what happened to his mother, the Nerevarine. How he and his sister had as good as grown up on their own, never to have closure until he saw his mother’s ghost. How the last Dragonborn emperor had martyred himself, how the hero who’d brought him to the Imperial City scorned all glory and disappeared from history soon after. How all of Idunn’s efforts to do right were fruitless, how none would appreciate her and her name would disappear after she died trying to protect people who didn’t care for her - and now Tandreth saw the effects of his poisonous words. Self hatred flooded his system. Vile, venomous coward, who’d tried to drag her down with him.

“Idunn.” he whispered, and she winced at the sound of her own name from his lips. “I was saying whatever I could to dissuade you, then. It was cruel.”

“Was it false?” she questioned, words piercing something else in his chest. She looked him in the eye, her own, wide and green and so guileless, beseeching him for the truth.

Tandreth’s shoulders fell, staring up at her - at the aurora reflected in her eyes, unable to bring light to them. Honesty burned his tongue, but he offered it nonetheless. “No.”

Idunn took a deep breath and turned away from him. “I always knew it.” she murmured. “At the heart of it, all along. I’m going to succeed. Destiny, fate, the Divines - they’ll carry me that far. But after…” He watched her throat ripple as she swallowed. “... I’m not coming back from this.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I feel it.” Idunn shook her head. “In my bones. My heart. The air. It makes sense. This was my purpose, all along. I have no -” A pause and another wince, as she dared a glance back at him. Correcting herself, to a flutter in his lungs. “ - few friends. No family. I was destined to die before fate called on me. It was just a stay of execution. This is my purpose, what I’ve been chosen for, what I’ve been born for. There’s nothing after.”

A cold feeling pooled in his gut, and Tandreth felt the overwhelming urge to run at her words. To save himself. Idunn was convinced, and it was enough to convince him in turn. In his travels with her he’d seen things he’d never believe, proof of divinity, every odd defied. It was only a matter of time before her luck ran out. He’d seen it all happen before.

Yet beneath the cold an ember burned, fanned into a flame. No. He’d seen it before, but he wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d tried to persuade her out of destiny, thrashed and raged against it. He’d tried to run from it already. The conclusion he’d come to was one constant as the rising sun.

Whatever would come, he couldn’t leave her. Even if he had to watch her die.

No.

Could he change fate? Change a certain path?

Of course not. He was a child, tantruming against the inevitable. Instinctively wanting to smash what he could before running away, furious at his own powerlessness.

Yet if there was one thing he could change - one thing in his blighted life he could do again, it was to say something. He’d left his mother with bitter words.

Idunn stared out at the tundra in silence. Could he leave her with the same?

Tandreth’s tongue suddenly felt thick, a wave of heat flowing over his body as if a fever. Nausea twisted his stomach. Suddenly all words failed him - he’d never had trouble with them before, always had a quick remark, but now this was important, now this was perhaps the last calm they’d ever have.

“Maybe.” he admitted, forcing himself to face the truth of it all. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe these are the last weeks.” His body was betraying him, vision clouding with blasted tears, his voice wavering. He could still run - Azura, how he longed to - but Tandreth clutched the stone banister as if it could keep him from being ripped away from it. He’d lived centuries, but a couple dozen months had given him a light he’d long thought lost and the idea that it was going to be snuffed out again was too much to comprehend.

Idunn managed to look at him again, pain diffused with confusion on her part. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this, he was well aware - knew that the little wrinkle between her brow was one of concern. Knew everything, and tried not to think of how every scrap of knowledge of her might come to haunt him. “You don’t have to stay.” Her voice was tender as a kiss. “It’ll be safer.”

It was his turn to make a choked noise, and he tore his hands from the banister to settle on her biceps, so firm beneath his touch he nearly took comfort in it. Tandreth forced her to face him, to look him in the face. “No. Listen to me, Idunn. I’ve spent my life running. From everything. From living. Were this a few years ago I’d be happy to throw myself into the void alongside you - but I’ve met you now. In you I’ve seen that maybe this cursed plane is worth something after all, that I could be worth something. I want to live. I want to see what the future holds.” In spite of himself, he let his hands drift down her bicep, stroking her skin - took a step forward. “With you. Whatever time you have left. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her lips fell open, and he almost cried at how it took her a few moments to process it all - dear, sweet, simple Idunn - and he knew she had when she couldn’t keep the water from spilling from her eyes, collecting on her lower lashes like dew. “But you - you hate it. Hate this.”

Tandreth laughed bitterly. “Yes. I hate fate, I hate the work of Divines and Daedra. I hate to be helpless. But not you. Not…” His right hand moved up to her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Not this. Never this.”

Uncertainty now overrode all of Idunn’s fear, calming the maelstrom in his own mind. “I won’t let you die on my account.”

“You’re not listening. I want to live.” Tandreth repeated. “And if… if you’re right, I’m going to try my damndest to make sure meeting you meant something. To make sure the world doesn’t forget. Not just the hero, but the woman.”

“The woman isn’t anything.” Idunn said with a watery smile. “You’ll bore them all to pieces.”

“I’ll fight Akatosh himself if I can keep the woman on this world with me for one moment longer.” Tandreth nearly shook her, desperate for her to understand him, choking on the words he needed to say, before the end, before she was another one of his ghosts.

The fear in her returned, but it was a different fear - one he knew in himself. The caution, the hesitance, the disbelief - she was worried she’d misheard him, that she’d read too much into things. She started to pull away from him - she’d decided what he was trying to tell her was all in her head, and in response he pulled her closer.

“I love you.” he whispered - feeling as if he’d doomed them both.

#fanfic #wip sorta #oc: tandreth #oc: idunn / dragonborn #lil inebriated writing this woooops #classic tandreth: waiting til the last minute to do anything important (:

[snidgetwidgeon]

Insurrection Recollections Series: Clandestine Research

After Zelda's father orders her to give up her research, Zelda and Purah hatch a plan. The only way it will succeed is if Link intervenes.

~~~

The day after her father told her she could no longer waste her time by playing the scholar, Zelda was issued an official written directive via castle courier as if she were one of his subordinates. She was livid. It instructed her to relinquish all of her ancient technology artefacts and materials to the Tech Lab by the end of the week. Oh how considerate of him to give me some time to sort out my busy schedule! She tore the missive to pieces and threw it in the fireplace.

Fine. She would do it post haste to the detriment of everything else she had going on. Studies with her economy instructor? Nope, she had a directive. Receiving the latest visiting dignitary in court that evening? Nope, she had a directive from the King. A fruitless visit to the Spring of Power to perform devotions that brought her nothing but scorn from her own people? Thank Nayru she had a Goddess damned directive from her father that allowed her to avoid the very thing she no longer wanted to do anyway!

Link looked on as Princess Zelda stomped back and forth between her room and study, forgetting things in her state and then becoming even more upset. He had offered his help but she refused so he stood watch on the bridge. The best he could do was stay out of her way and be available at a moment’s notice.

When she finally got to her journal, having left it for last, she closed the door to her study to have a moment of privacy. As she re-read some of the pages detailing her adventures into archaeology, she thought about how they were merely notes and should not be subject to the purge. She decided to keep it.

Emerging from her study with a resolve that Link could see was strained at best, Zelda nodded to him that she was ready to leave. He hailed an available attendant and they assisted in carrying items down to the stables. Even with Zelda insisting on carrying some things herself, the attendant would need to make one more trip and grab another person along the way.

While the rest was being collected, Zelda and Link saddled up the horses in silence. To anyone else, this would seem no different from the early days of their time together when she resented him and their silence was cold and strained. Now it was a companionable silence. He caught her looking at him over her horse’s back as she was tightening her straps. He smiled.

She felt a flush and a sudden need to make an excuse. “You always have such a way with horses...” She then ducked behind hers and pretended to do something else.

Between their mounts and a third mare carrying normal travel supplies, they were able to take everything. Zelda also wore a satchel on her back with a few of the more delicate items. As they made their way through the grounds, Link steered his horse around slightly, indicating down the path that led to the docks and asked, “Shall we take the ferry?”

“No, thank you.” She looked straight ahead with her nose stuck figuratively up toward her father as she passed him. “I would like to make this trip last as long as possible if you don’t mind.”

~~~

They arrived in the evening, just in time for dinner. Zelda and Link had agreed on the way there that she could have a night of normalcy. While she went in, he attended the horses and unloaded everything, stacking it in a tidy pile just inside the workshop to be dealt with in the morning. He then joined the others, received a heaping serve of beef curry and proceeded to keep mostly to himself as he was wont to do in large social gatherings. 

He watched Zelda closely, but not obviously, and noticed how very bittersweet it all was for her. She would no doubt be wishing it could be like any other visit. She laughed and carried on with the others, sharing how well the trials at the castle had gone the previous day. But he could see it. Any small moment where she wasn’t engaged with someone, her face fell and the light was gone from her eyes. When Purah noticed and asked if she was alright, she easily brushed it off by saying she was just tired from her busy schedule and a full day of travel.

The following morning, Link was in tow when Zelda entered Purah’s messy workspace with the Sheikah Slate. They had already seen to the items in the workshop, making sure they were distributed to the proper places around the Lab.

“Good morning, good morning! You’re just in time- oh, I’m so glad you brought the Slate. I meant to send word that you should come by the Lab soon so I could use it, but you must have read my mind because here you are; and I completely forgot to send the word.” She put her arm around Zelda’s shoulders and guided her to the large stone in the middle of the room, “Come, I want you to look at this and tell me what you think.”

Zelda let herself be dragged over but instead of looking at the stone, she sort of glazed over in an effort to shield herself from more pain. “Purah, I must apologize.”

“What for? Give it a second, I didn’t expect you to figure it out right away, silly.”

“No, I mean- I should have told you first thing last night.” She handed the Sheikah Slate to Purah who took it with brows furrowed in concern but also remained quiet to listen to her friend.

“Father has ordered me to focus all of my attention on my training. I’m- I can no longer assist the research team. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just... kind of wanted to pretend it didn’t happen for as long as I could.”

“Oh, Zelly, no. It’s ok.” Purah gave her a quick but sincere hug before going off. “Din’s balls, this is the pits! I’ll be lodging a formal complaint- you watch me- he can’t take away one of my best researchers.” She waved the Slate around dramatically. “Now I’m going to have to find a new translator; who does he think he is!?”

Zelda started giggling. As always, Purah’s infectious energy and earnestness made her feel a bit less crap when she was down. “The King,” Zelda’s giggling evolved into open laughter. ”He’s the King, Purah.”

Purah just pushed up her glasses and said matter-of-factly, “Well... King or no King, he’s acting like a fool.”

Link smiled from his post across the room thinking about how he couldn’t agree more. The day before yesterday on the bridge he had questioned if his oath to protect the Princess extended to defending her from the King himself.

“Were you leaving today?” Purah asked, but didn’t let Zelda answer and kept talking, “You’re not leaving today. I need your help with something and you aren’t officially done until you leave, you hear? Come with me.” She strode out of her office on a mission.

Zelda smiled after her and then looked at Link with a raised brow asking- not for his approval, but more his opinion. He merely shrugged and gestured that she should follow the woman.

Over the course of the day Link observed their antics and found moments to opportunistically disappear when it looked like they were going to need a person for some sort of trial. That night, some celebrations ramped up as Purah decided to throw a gratitude party to thank Zelda for all that she had contributed. Link thought that idea was pretty smart, making it look like Zelda’s choice to take on other important tasks. This way, she could leave with her head held high, at least until she was out of sight.

About mid morning the following day, Link got the horses ready for the return home and then realized he may have been a bit preemptive when he went to collect Zelda. She and Purah looked at him like startled foxes when he entered Purah’s office and they proceeded to finish their conversation in hushed voices.

Perhaps Zelda wanted to stay on longer? Then Purah spoke normally again and handed Zelda a book. “So, if you could just take that one back to my room, that would be great.”

Zelda nodded and said nonchalantly, “No problem.”

As she walked out, Link started to follow, but Purah exclaimed, “Oh, Link! Could you help me carry these?” She grinned, “Please?”

“Um, sure. What is it?” he asked when he didn’t see anything specific that she was asking about.

“Just a sec!” Her eyes darted around and she grabbed a box that already had a few guardian pieces in it which she proceeded to unceremoniously dump in the middle of the floor. She then flitted around the room grabbing random items to throw in the box that she needed ‘help’ carrying.

He wandered over to the second story window to check on the horses outside while he waited to see how- whatever it was that she was up to- played out. He didn’t have to wait long at all as he noticed Zelda, distinctly not in Purah’s room, and still holding onto that book. He immediately knew what it was. Ancient contraband.

She approached her white horse and gave it a scratch as she went to place the book in her saddlebags. As she lifted the flap she hesitated for a moment. He smirked as she went over to his horse instead and buried the book into his saddle bag. Clever, but not clever enough. If she was worried that her father might go as far as to search her things when she returned, then he was not going to take the chance that they wouldn’t do the same to him. He’d have to hide it better later.

“Right! So... this stuff here. Could you please take it downstairs?” Purah requested with another cheesy grin.

He balked a little at everything sticking out of it. She couldn’t at least have made her distraction easy? He gave a little sigh, “No problem.”

~~~

That night as Zelda slept by the campfire, Link snuck over to the horses and quietly dug through his saddle bag for the book. She tucked it right at the bottom under the other book he generally kept with him in case he ever had time to kill. He looked back over to her sleeping form and surreptitiously stuck it behind his back just inside the waistband of his trousers, then tightened his belt over it a bit. Sleep would be a bit less comfortable and he’d have to wear his cloak over it even if he got warm tomorrow, but that should do the trick.

When they arrived back home, Link clocked that their approach was noticed with a bit more interest than usual. Zelda may not have been wrong in her suspicions regarding her father; the King was becoming more stressed and paranoid by the day.

They were met at the West gatehouse by a young castle guard who looked nervous. “Many pardons Princess Zelda, but we have instructions to check your cargo.”

She kept her calm and said coldly, “Do as you will.”

Another guard approached to help and she felt her ire rise as they rummaged through her things right next to her. She didn’t bother hiding her withering stare. She wasn’t going to make it easy for them.

Once they were satisfied, the guard bowed. “My apologies, Princess.”

“Indeed.” She then clicked for her horse to continue and went no more than two steps before she heard the guard behind her ask for Link to please remain still for a search as well. Her stomach sank and she twisted around in her saddle before pulling her mount up sideways. Outwardly, she appeared to just be waiting for her Knight Attendant. Link appeared entirely unfazed, and why wouldn’t he? He didn’t know that she’d foolishly set him up to be punished.

Her eyes darted back and forth between the guards, then stared sharply at the one that took out a book. He turned it over and opened it to a random page in the middle before nodding to Link and placing it back in his bag. “Our apologies, Sir Link. Please enjoy the rest of your day.” They crossed an arm across their chest and nodded.

Link came to join her as she continued a few more steps before she stopped awkwardly. Her mind was racing. Did it get lost!? She gave a harried look at Link who returned it with a head tilt of curiosity. Did he find it and throw it out!? She couldn’t act on any of her agonizing questions!

“On second thought,” she called after the guards, “You may take the horses to the stables. Please have my things delivered and report to my father that I will be resting from today’s journey and will not be disturbed.” She dismounted, continuing out of the gatehouse on foot. Link followed suit.

As she went up the steps leading to the courtyard below her quarters, she was afraid to say anything with patrolling guards so near. She finally stomped up the stairs to her room in a frenzied state. That book was important! How was she going to find out about what happened to it without being seriously reprimanded from going against her father’s will?

She practically forgot Link was behind her and before she entered her room, he said in a hushed tone, “The next time you need me to hide something for you,” he pulled the book out from under his tunic behind his back, “it might be better that I’m actually involved.”

She looked down at it and her eyes widened before snapping back up to his smug face. It quickly turned into one of shock as she grabbed him by the front of his tunic and pulled him in. After riding the highest levels of stress, fear of discovery, and relief all in the span of a few minutes, she latched onto him in a tight hug without a second thought. “Thank Hylia, you have it! First I thought I was fine, then I thought I’d- and you would be punished for sure as well, and then I thought it was lost somehow-” she had pulled away at this point, “but how could it be? I hid it at the very bottom.”

Link watched her nervous rambling with a rather judgmental, yet amused expression.  

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He held his hands up, book still in one, as if to accept defeat to a potential argument that hadn’t even started.

“I didn’t think that they would bother to search you.” She stopped herself as she noticed her old habit of deflecting fault was rearing its ugly head. She had vowed to be better since he saved her life in the desert and right now, that meant an apology was probably due.

She sighed, “I’m sorry, Link. I should have trusted you. I guess I just thought that you wouldn’t approve or... may have stopped me.”

“Have you met you?” he asked rhetorically as he handed the book over.

She copped his joke and pressed her lips together hard so she wouldn’t laugh on principle, but her belly bounced a little  in a silent chortle anyway. Once she regained her composure her brows knitted and she enquired, “But why didn’t you just tell me you knew before we got back? You could have-” her mouth gaped as she gasped in realization. “You were getting back at me for not telling you!?”

“I did think I was owed a tiny bit of payback for being an unknowing accomplice in smuggling your ancient contraband.”

“Well... I...” She became flustered in her defeat.

He hadn’t meant to actually make her feel bad so he smiled. “It’s ok. I’m on your side so just tell me next time you need help.”

He probably thought that was just a nice thing to say but his genuine declaration of support struck right to the base of her core. The oaths that they had taken at the beginning of this colossal mess had meant nothing to her back then, but through the eventual development of their friendship, she discovered that those ties now carried weight; and though she still felt useless for the coming trial, she respected their bond more than ever. And he did too. Urbosa and Impa were the only other people whom she felt truly knew her. Now she had another, and she felt blessed that he was always by her side.

Blinking away her hard stare at his words, she came back to herself and said, “Alright then. Since you’re now in on this, you can be my mule.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m Purah’s best translator so I’ll need you to feed any potential discoveries to Impa. If she’s away you can take them to Robbie. He’ll still be here for a while yet working on the Guardians.”

She continued nattering on, the way she did when she seemed to speak more to herself than to another person, while she sat down with the book at her desk and started to flip through the pages. “I’ll be starting right away. I’ve actually been dying to dive in. Did you want to stay until I get something ready or do you have things you need to do?”

When she looked back at him he had an unspoken expectation on his face which she proceeded to misread. “It’s quite alright if you have things to take care of, I’m sure I’ll be a while yet before I have- oh! You mean,” she smiled sheepishly and then cleared her throat. “Sorry. Sir Link, do you consent?”

The way she asked had him closing his eyes and shaking his head in amusement.

“No?”

“No- I mean, yes, Princess, you have my consent.” He bowed eloquently. “I’ll return later when you might have something for me.”

“Thank you.”  

He opened the door to leave and she added, “And thank you for...”

He stopped and looked back.

“For being on my side,” she finished.

He nodded and went.

She sat for a few moments looking at where he’d just been, a tingle running through all of her limbs in a wave, causing goosebumps.

~~~

There had been a few things of interest that she sent to Purah via Link’s underground network. Thankfully, she had kept many detailed notes about how to translate ancient Sheikah text. She always was a good note taker. Her very own research journal was an invaluable resource that she had justifiably not been made to give up. Her father must have either thought she couldn’t do much with it or didn’t want to go to such an extent to violate her personal belongings after he took the only thing that was bringing her any joy.

She was out at her study tower again, working on it at a time she was not likely to be disturbed- but even if she were, Link was on duty outside. She came across a passage on underground structures and thought she was finally on track to learning where the pillars were. If only they could be located, the research team would supposedly be able to harness many more Guardians, not just the ones that had been dug up. These ones were properly stored and ready for when the Calamity struck.

With her potential conclusion on the material of the passage being under such a bias, she kept getting stuck. The page wasn’t making sense as it stated the pillars were all over Hyrule; but she knew them to be under the castle.

She read on about something pertaining to activation of the network, or that everything was connected, or... something. Her eyes were getting tired and she felt a brain melt coming on. If only she had more points of reference. She pined after the Slate. In its absence, all she had left was the library and she couldn’t risk going there without being watched. She started to lean back in her chair and zone out at her wall in abject defeat when she noticed a doodle. It was a less detailed, but accurate copy of the tapestry in Impa’s office.

Just as she began to think she wouldn’t glean anything from a picture she’d looked at a thousand times, she noticed the pillars framing the castle. There were also a few of the same at the bottom, and one in each quadrant... all around Hyrule. But the others wouldn’t be the pillars. They look like towers.

She sat up straight and began to re-read the translation. If she thought of them as towers, and there was some sort of connection between them- but where were they? She’d practically been all over the kingdom and had never seen such a structure. Perhaps buried, like the pillars!

With newly invigorated passion, she stood and stretched, then crossed the small circular room to the door. Opening it part way, she saw Link standing at ease and then turning to regard her.

“Sir Link? I believe I am in dire need of a hot chocolate in order to continue performing at the best of my abilities. Could you please send for one?”

He smiled knowingly and dipped his head in kind before leaving to find an attendant or a less strictly positioned guard to pass on the request.

“Oh, and please get one for yourself! If you want to,” she added.

He waved behind him to acknowledge he’d heard.

She closed the door and looked over at the materials on her desk and the drawing of the tapestry. She felt there was something potentially big here. If so, she wanted so badly to find a way to tell Impa or Purah herself. She thought of the devotions she had looming in a few hours time. They were now most of her days and she felt more like a helpless failure than ever before. She couldn’t bear the thought of never being able to share in discoveries again. She would wait until she could see them somehow. At least then she would have some joy.

#breath of the wild #fanfiction #writing #*trumpet noise* this is my first fic post #been derping away on my stories for over a year and finally have something to show #runs around like a cucco in excitement #clandestine research #Insurrection Recollections Series #snidgetwidgeon scribbles

[forkanna]

[AO3] [WATTPAD]

NOTE: Here we go. Little bit of a shift in this chapter... you'll see. Thanks for keeping up with this fic and all your comments!

------------

Everything was rather quiet for a couple of days. Rise threw herself into practicing her vocals with every spare moment, meeting with her manager and conferencing with her record label over the phone. She needed the distraction. Without any clear course of action with Ai, she had decided to let that matter fade into the background. Maybe something would come to her eventually.

On Sunday, she and the gang decided to go fishing, since that was one of Narukami's favourite activities and they were all missing him lately. For most of them, it simply meant getting to wave around poles and wade into the water, splashing each other. Kanji and Naoto resented this because they were much more serious about the matter, but the others didn't pay them too much mind.

"Hey, why didn't you invite Ai?" Chie suddenly asked as they re-baited their hooks. "She too snobby to get down here in the river with us?"

Rise laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

"Yeah," she responded, giggling right along. "No way would she be caught dead touching a fish that's not cooked."

"No… I meant that she wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore."

"Why not?" Yukiko asked. "I thought you were becoming sort of close with her."

Wow, how oblivious could they be? "Not anymore."

Once she had explained properly, which took the better part of half an hour, most of the joy had been sucked out of their springtime activity. Rise did feel a little bad about that, but it was as much their fault as hers, so she didn't spend too much mental energy on sympathy for her friends.

"Gosh, that is so sad," Teddie said with a pronounced pout. He really did seem genuinely disappointed not to have another friend. "I know you guys didn't really mean to hurt her feelings."

"Guess I thought he'd be over that by now," Chie confessed quietly.

"Yeah," Yosuke added. "Like, as long as he stays away from my butt, I don't really care what he does with his time. And man, he looks way better in drag than even Teddie did, so…"

While Teddie was harrumphing as if genuinely offended, Kanji chuckled harshly as he twitched his line in the water the tiniest bit. "What is it with you and that gay panic, bro? I'm surprised your Shadow didn't look more like mine."

"H-hey, I'm just a healthy, red-blooded Japanese male! I like girls who are actually girls! Is that a crime?"

"I'll buy you a butt-protector to keep all the dicks out," Chie cackled bemusedly. Yosuke just grimaced.

"I'm… starting to get why she didn't want this getting out," Rise sighed.

"Hm?" Yukiko said as she turned back in her direction. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"No, that sounded important. I wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings…"

Which she appreciated. Even if the others were a little oblivious sometimes, Yukiko genuinely meant well all the time. Every minute of every day. "It's just… I'm no big expert on this subject, but you guys can see how much work she put into being taken seriously as a woman. Because she looks like one! Nobody could tell! And I think I haven't paid much attention to how hard that must have been for her… I'm… wow. And I really did almost ruin her life."

Not that she had been unaware of that before. She thought she understood, and she did — better than her friends did, for sure. But listening to them casually treat her like a drag act, a joke, a source of anxiety for Yosuke's extra-fragile masculinity, peeled back just enough of the curtain. Now she knew that she really didn't know anything at all.

"Don't be so dramatic," Chie sighed. "Like you said, he was able to play it off, and he's giving you a lot more shit now than is necessary compared to what you did on accident. Like, scales balanced. If he wants to keep being a dick then that's on him."

Rise shrugged helplessly as she tossed her fishing pole back onto the shore. "You're not wrong about that part. I'm not saying her trying to get revenge on me is right. I'm just saying I understand why she feels so betrayed. Didn't really get it before, but…"

"I still don't get it now," Yosuke grunted. "The whole thing makes me super uncomfortable. But it sounds like he already had the surgery, so… doesn't that mean he's a girl anyway?"

"What? No, it's… nevermind that part." She had been about to insist that Ai did not have "The Surgery" yet, even though she had probably undergone several other minor procedures. But that was the kind of detail that would get her even deeper in trouble than she already was, so she cut herself off.

"Well, I'm with Chie," Yukiko said cautiously. "You have apologized for hurting her, you didn't intend to in the first place. If she were a true friend, she would accept your apology."

"I'm not sure it's that simple."

They all turned to look at Naoto, not having expected her to speak. The girl was wearing a very thoughtful expression underneath her newsboy-casquette cap. "What isn't?" Teddie finally prompted when everybody had been quiet for a little too long.

"This situation with Ebihara-san. She's living her life as transgender, and you have jeopardized that life. Even if on accident, I can see how she would interpret that as an attack."

"Come on," Chie sighed. "Any idiot knows the difference between on accident and on purpose."

"Not necessarily. In law, there is such a thing as 'gross criminal negligence'. This means that even if it's an accident, even if you did nothing with the premeditated intent to do harm, you can still cause harm and be held accountable for it. At least, partially."

"So you're saying it's okay that this asshole is trying to frame our friend for cheating?!" Yosuke burst out.

"Hm? Oh, no, not at all," Naoto insisted, a slight crease in her brow. "But this is a matter of criminal pathology. Even if Ebihara-san is not a criminal, she is perpetrating criminal acts; understanding them requires the same skill set. Motive. Means. Opportunity. We already know the last two, more or less; security isn't especially tight at Yasogami High. I'm sure it was a simple matter for her to sneak into the classroom and pilfer the answer key, then sneak it into Rise's bag when no one was looking. So all that's left is… why?"

"Because he's a petty jerk," Chie provided immediately.

"It's not that simple."

"No, it really is. Maybe you guys get something about how serious us gossiping about him was that I don't, but I don't care. You don't treat a friend like that. Period! Even if he's really pissed at Rise, she did apologize, she's trying to make it right. He's not acting like a friend at all. So I say, screw him! Just let him self-destruct and be alone. And if he won't stop being a jerk to you, we will be jerks right back. I'm not going to sit around while he drags you down for something you didn't even do on purpose."

Rise felt a rush of affection toward Chie Satonaka. Even if she couldn't completely agree with everything she was saying, it was nice to know her friends had her back — that these were true blue friendships that had lasted beyond being part of the same Investigation Team. The passion with which she spoke, and the anger she clearly felt toward Ebihara because she was attacking her friend, made the existence of those bonds unmistakable.

However… she also couldn't ignore the way Naoto's brow furrowed further. Kanji also rested a hand on her shoulder. Was she simply upset about losing an argument, or was there more to that?

"I can't disagree with what you say. I was merely trying to point out that in Ebihara-san's estimation, Rise may deserve vengeance more than she does in any of our estimation. She is viewing the situation differently than we are."

"Well his 'estimation' sucks," Chie grumbled.

"Maybe," Rise finally cut in with a discomfited sigh. "But can you guys… can you promise me you won't do anything mean to her without asking me? At least that? I know she's being a jerk, but it's because I messed up. Huge. So this has to be between her and me."

None of them looked too thrilled with that. Yukiko nodded immediately, seemingly satisfied right away that she was doing what was asked of her by her friend. The others were a little slower to agree but they still all did at some point or another, dissatisfied as they were.

"Thanks. And I'm so happy you have my back, I can't express that enough. But I have to figure this out on my own."

"You got it," Kanji grunted as he started reeling in a fish. "Shit… it's a big one… but I'm not gonna forget how you looked when that old bag accused you of cheating. That ain't right. Ebihara better make it right eventually, or his ass is grass."

What an ominous threat. Well-meaning, but ominous. Rise knew she would have to sort this matter out post haste — before she had to find out just how far her friends were willing to go to come to her aid.

                                          ~ o ~

All of this gave birth to a very determined Rise Kujikawa, and this was the one who walked into school on a foggy Monday morning. Ai had done enough damage; she had to forge ahead as if everything was fine. Her new tactic had to be not to let the bullying get to her, because she better understood it was just her friend being hurt by her own actions. And if she wouldn't accept her apology… there was nothing more she could do.

But she didn't have it in her to give up. That option was stricken off the list. Rise was no quitter.

Everything was fine until her second-to-last class of the day. Rise had mostly focused on schoolwork and chatting with her other friends, taking her mind off more depressing matters. Gearing up for a promotional video she was supposed to shoot soon; that would be a first step toward reestablishing herself as an artist, even if she still didn't intend to go back to singing full-time until she graduated. And the class with Ms. Sofue was fine in and of itself… for the first ten minutes or so.

That was when she noticed the smell. At first, she was looking around the room to try and figure out who had lost control of their bowels in such close proximity to other students. Maybe it was something they had for lunch?

A brief investigation ten minutes later revealed the true culprit, once everyone was looking at her like she was being most unladylike. Deep in the recesses of her desk, which she never used to keep anything since she would just have to move it again after class, someone had stuffed an old sandwich. Unless she missed her guess, there was natto and egg on it, among other things. But there was too much mold growing inside the sandwich bag for her to be certain.

"Oh GOOD GOD!" cried one of the boys nearby, covering his face with his arm. "What's in that thing?!"

Waving at the air with her crooked heka, the teacher coughed and demanded, "Please dispose of your lunch in a proper manner from now on, Miss Kujikawa! Make no mistake, even I have no interest in mummified food!"

A few of them were able to wrap it in some paper and drag it to the trash can, amid Rise's protests that she had never seen it before. Nobody believed her, because the natto tended to make it seem obvious that it had come from Marukyu — even though their speciality was tofu, not other soybean offerings. A lot of bickering back and forth broke out until the teacher banged her cane on her desk.

"Enough! Miss Kujikawa has technically broken no rule, even if it was her sandwich. So we'll say no more about it. Please, open your books again and turn to page…"

But the entire class period, Rise couldn't stop thinking about the sandwich. She already knew who it was; only one person at that school was stupid enough to actively mess with a famous pop idol. The instant the bell rang, she pelted out of class so fast that quite a few students gasped. By now, she knew what class Ai was supposed to be in around this time… and where she could find her.

                                          ~ o ~

"Oh!" gasped one of the girls in the locker room when Rise barged past her. "Do you even have this class? What are you doing in the-"

"Ebihara?" she asked. Some girl with a towel wrapped around her hair pointed further into the room. Rise stormed over there to find a towel-clad Ai preening at the mirror hanging on the inside of her locker, running the brush through her hair over and over. "Thanks for your present."

Smirking a little, the girl didn't even glance over. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah? You don't recognise it?"

Everyone gasped when she threw it onto the bench nearest Ebihara. That was nothing compared to the chorus of disgusted noises that followed once its foul stench began to pervade the air within the steamy room. Even still wrapped in the plastic bag, it was horrendous.

"Oh, GOD," Ai joined in, though she was chuckling just a little. "Why would you be carrying that thing around? Just to throw at me like that?"

"Why?" she demanded. "This has crossed the line from mean to just… weird! What's the point of stinking up the classroom?"

Full of false innocence, she pressed a hand to her chest as she said, "Why, I don't know. Sounds to me like someone just forgot to throw away her lunch. Maybe you should be a little less wasteful. Then again, as rich and famous as you are, I bet you don't care at all."

A ripple of murmurs spread throughout the room. Rise knew that they didn't really care about the sandwich, or about wastefulness, but they were highly concerned with this argument between two students playing out right in front of them. Gossip fodder. So she decided not to give them any more ammunition.

"Okay. We'll just throw it away." She snatched it off the bench and flashed Ai a poisonous smile. "Have a lovely day, Ebi-chan."

"Don't you mean Ebi-kun?"

Rise stopped dead in her tracks. She actually looked around for what assholes had said it, determined to give them a dressing down. Even if they were fighting, nobody got to talk about her friend like that. But she realized it had come from Ai herself. "What?"

"You were one of the people that started the rumour, right?" She looked so haughty, arms folded over her chest and hip cocked to one side. "So I'm surprised you let it go that easy."

Deciding to play along, she smirked and shot back, "I heard you showed off the goods to some other girls and it proved it was false."

"Yeah. But since when do people like you care about facts? You would much rather be right than the truth prevail."

"People like- okay. Whatever this is, whatever you want from me, I'm done with it. I thought we could try to be adults and move on, but all you want to do is start a war — one I'm not interested in fighting. Just leave me alone if you really can't stand me this bad, okay?"

Ai laughed and took a step forward. "Rise-Risette, the gossip-monger. And now, the cheater! What terrible thing are you going to do next?"

"I didn't do anything in the first place!"

"You know you did." The smile disappeared for a second, leaving her friend's features full of cold fury. But it was so brief that most of the other girls probably wouldn't have noticed; then she was smiling like rainbows were shooting out of her ass again. "And hey, if you want to try to blame me for all of it, go ahead. You might as well."

"No, that's not necessary. Maybe it's just a series of tragic coincidences."

"Uh huh. Or maybe you're just a self-destructive pop idol, a little brat who couldn't hack it in the entertainment industry, and now that you're stuck in boring old Inaba, you want attention again. Don't you see you're going about it all the wrong ways?"

So that was her game. Now Rise could see this for what it was: it wasn't just any one incident meant to slander her and give her a bad name. All of them together were supposed to paint a picture of a celebrity spiraling out of control. Rise was going to turn into the Japanese Britney Spears if Ai Ebihara had anything to do with it.

"You really want to destroy me that badly?" she hissed now that they were so close their noses were almost touching. All the girls around them were whispering and chattering, watching the drama intently. The rub was, they were gossiping so much about what they were saying that they couldn't even actually hear what they were saying.

"You can bet on it. I told you I was going to, unless you destroy me first. And I think you will. I think you are exactly the kind of person who will shoot in self-defense."

"That isn't me," she breathed, glancing down at Ai's body. It was so close to her own… she couldn't help looking, couldn't help feeling flustered even though they were fighting right now. "We both know that. You're just mad I messed up, and you won't let me apologize, and you won't leave it alone. There's nothing else I can do."

"Yes there is." Then she hiked an eyebrow slightly, lowering her voice to barely a whisper. "What? What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Just… trying to figure out what to-"

"You were trying to figure out if you could see my dick. Weren't you?" As Rise felt her brow furrow, Ai chuckled and pressed on, "Do it. Go looking."

She could feel her temper flaring hotter. It was getting hard to control. "Stop being so gross. I wouldn't do that, I haven't done that, and I'm not going to do that."

"Why not? Come on… all you have to do is rip this towel off me. Show the world. Maybe I'm tucking again, maybe I'm not. But wouldn't that be great if you exposed a scandal in the women's locker room? Risette the Hero, saving all these poor girls from the freak."

"You know — you know I have never once in my life called you a freak, why do you want me to hurt you so badly? What do you get out of it? Are you some kind of psycho masochist?!"

"Sure! Go with that. Even more reason to save everyone. Do it." No movement. "Clock's ticking. The longer you wait, the weirder it's going to be that we're standing here whispering to each other."

But Rise's mind was racing. She still had no idea really why she was pushing so hard for her to attack, to be so vicious. She thought back to the revelation she had when walking home — about Ai, about what these attacks meant for their relationship. And when she thought of it that way…

Everything came together. Of course, nothing was for certain until she heard it straight from the horse's mouth, but now Rise thought she understood the reason her former friend was trying so hard to get her to treat her like vermin.

"No," she whispered with a small smile.

"No? Aww, I guess the games continue then," Ai said with a fake, exaggerated pout. "You're going to have to be a lot tougher than that to make it as a star."

"Actually… let's play a new game. Unless you want to give up now?" Her pleading face returned. "Please, please just stop. I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, or we can go back to being friends and… try to put this behind us. But I'm not giving up, not going away. So…? Maybe?"

Ai shook her head. "This isn't your game, you don't get to change the rules, princess. So nice try."

"Fine," she sighed… before sliding her arms tightly around Ai.

"H-hey!" she burst out. Then a little louder, "Oh my GOD, now Risette is trying to molest me!"

Before the gasps really had a chance to deepen, Rise sobbed, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, I just… I just love you so much Ai, a-and when you… when you pulled away, I didn't know what to do! Can't you forgive me?"

Even the girls who weren't watching before were glued to this scene now. And even though she could tell Ai didn't like losing control of the situation — hated might have been more apropos — she still drew back to gape at her.

"What… did you just say?"

"I asked you to forgive-"

"Cut the bullSHIT!" she snapped loudly enough that one smaller girl yelped and fell back on her ass, scrabbling for the nearest bench. "You can't mean that. Not in front of all these people, you… they'll know you're- if you say how you feel, that's…"

"I don't care about them! I love you, Ai, I… I didn't mean for us to end up this way!" Her bottom lip wobbled hard as she took a shaky breath. "But if you really can't forgive me, I'll understand! I just… I can't go on with us hurting each other like this!"

"Oh, this is so not going to work," she scoffed… until she saw a few of the girls putting their hands on Rise's shoulders, comforting her as the big fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Offering tissues, petting her hair. "Are you- wow, you guys can't be buying this! It's an act!"

"Hey, don't be so mean!" said some girl with bobbed hair; Rise thought her name was Matsunaga, but she couldn't remember at the moment. The moment Ai's gaze was on her, she said much more quietly, "S-sorry."

"Oh my GOD. Fine. Whatever, I'm out of here."

But a wall of girls blocked her way. They were all glowering at her now, looking ready to throw down; they would never have challenged alone but there was safety in numbers. Ai's eyebrows shot up, unimpressed… but the more she looked at all of them, the more anxious she appeared. Not frightened, just uneasy from the attention. The constant attention, while wearing a towel… prospect of a fight… she backed into a corner and they started to advance on her. This would get seriously out of hand if someone didn't step in.

Someone stepped in.

"Please, just give me another chance," Rise provided smoothly as she slid forward through the throng of girls, taking up Ai's hand — which was immediately yanked out of reach. Her voice was taut with emotion as she pleaded, "That's all! I'll show you I can be a better friend, a-and those pranks? Forgotten! And I won't ever tell another lie about you again, I promise!"

Ai took another good look around at the student body standing in opposition against her. The wheels were turning behind her eyes. Then she glared down at Rise with a shake of her head. "You… conniving… snake," she muttered.

Some of the girls heard it, and looked more scandalised. And because now everyone else was behind her… Rise felt comfortable allowing a smug, triumphant smirk to take over her features. Just for an instant. She even mouthed a few choice words:

"You only have one way out."

Oh, she had never seen Ai look that angry before. This wasn't just annoyance or rage. She looked murderous. But it only lasted a second before she sighed, shut her eyes, took a breath.

"Rise… fine. I know… I went too far. Can you forgive me?"

"Wow, really sounds authentic," one of the others closest to the lockers scoffed.

"No, really." When Ai opened her eyes again, she was smiling weakly. "I have missed you. I just didn't know… I was so angry when you started that nasty rumour."

"I know. It was a stupid mistake! And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you just… take me back! That's all you have to do." She took both of her hands, ignoring the way nails were digging into her own. Petty little revenges were par for the course now. "Just be with me."

One could hear a pin drop in that locker room. Ai pulled her close and whispered softly, "You want to play this game? We're playing it on a national level."

"Bring it on," she replied in kind, smirking again — even while her heart pounded in her throat from the closeness. "But c'mon, I beat you this round."

"Shut up."

Such a chorus of "WHOOOOO" went up when they kissed that it felt like they were shaking the foundation of Yasogami High. Probably because, metaphorically as well as literally, they were. Game-changer indeed.

                                          To Be Continued…

#We'll Face Ourselves #saphir de lune #persona 4 fanfiction #forkanna writes #rise x ai #p4 fanfic #jess the writer

[livesincerely]

I know I probably missed the boat timing-wise for your little ask game but I am d y i n g to know more about the college years for the domestic au.

There’s no such thing as too late!!! (I am super into all these Domestic AU asks, btw)

Jack and Davey only apply to the same schools. There’s a rough patch right at the beginning where Jack worries that he’s holding Davey back—he think’s he’s too poor or too stupid to get into the schools Davey will. Davey disabuses him of that idea with haste.

“Jack Kelly,” Davey starts, and he’s absolutely furious. Furious with Jack for even saying such a thing, but even more upset with the world for daring to put these thoughts in Jack’s head. “You are going to college. You are a fantastic artist and any school would be lucky to have you. We will figure out tuition money. We will figure out tuition money even if we have to fill out scholarship applications until our fingers bleed, even if I have to call every single financial aid office in this whole damn country. But so help me, if you ever suggest that you’re holding me back again, I’ll break your fucking nose.” Davey takes a breath, chest heaving. Jack just stands there gaping at him, eyes wide with shock. “So sit back down and finish signing those papers.”

(Jack doesn’t figure it out until much much later, but this is definitely the moment he starts to fall in love with Davey)

But anyway, Jack and Davey go to school together, Jack as an art student with a focus in graphic design and Davey as a double major in English and Education. They get a three bedroom apartment not far from campus with help from Medda. Race is 11 and just starting middle school, Crutchie is 10 and in fifth grade. Neither is at all bothered about moving to a new school district and are really excited about living with Jack and Davey.

So, Jack’s been taking care of Racetrack and Crutchie’s paperwork—school, medical, etc—for ages, and Davey has been an unofficial contact on their stuff for years, but now it’s official. Jack and Davey are each other’s emergency contacts and they’re both on all the boys’ stuff. Jack and Davey try their absolute best to be reliable, involved guardians. We’re talking parent-teacher conferences, going to band recitals, helping with homework, etc, and it’s not that it’s really all that different than things had been before Jack got custody, but there’s the added pressure of being The Adults in Charge. They do a much better job than they think they do, just through sheer effort and the amount of love they have for Race and Crutchie.

The first big test of the new normal is when Davey gets a call from the middle school telling him that there’s been an incident with Race. Jack is in the middle of a final and can’t go, so it’s just Davey. Davey shows up to find Race with a bloody nose and some little shithead kid with a fat lip and annoying HOA parents, crying crocodile tears and calling Race a thug. It’s obvious that these people are super entitled and used to getting their way, and the principal is all set to roll over and give Race a suspension without even hearing his side of the story. Davey is not having it.

“Excuse me,” Davey says in an absolutely frigid tone of voice, looking at Principal Jefferson with barely concealed contempt in his eyes. Racetrack sidles ever so slightly closer to him, already starting to un-tense; it’s been a few years but he still remembers the school bus incident. He knows that Davey’s got this. “I’m afraid I don’t understand why suspension is even an option at this point.” “Any student engaging in violence will receive a three-day suspension—“ “Yes, I read the handbook,” Davey coldly interrupts. “It also says you have a rigorous anti-bullying policy, with special wording to protect those from marginalized groups and those in particularly delicate circumstances. Is allowing a former foster child to be taunted with the fact of his parents’ deaths, then punishing him for understandably lashing out, what you call protecting them?”

Race and Davey go home with an apology from the school, and an excuse for the classes he missed while in the principal’s office

“I forget that Davey can actually be scary sometimes,” Racetrack whispers to Crutchie later that night. “You shoulda seen him—I thought Mr. Jefferson was gonna puke.” Crutchie wisely observes, “It’s ‘cause by the time Davey gets angry, Jack’s already went and punched someone.” “Well, Jack should let Davey have more turns being the mean one,” Race says. “He needs to stay in practice.”

Every now and then, when Race and Crutchie have days off from school but Jack and Davey have class, they go to campus with them. They usually go with Davey, as Davey’s large lecture halls and discussion classrooms have more space for two children to post up with a few quiet activities than Jack’s smaller art studios do. Most people are understanding, especially since Race and Crutchie are old enough to sit quietly for a few hours with snacks or whatever. Davey only had to go full berserker on someone once for the entire English department to get the memo. And honestly, Race and Crutchie are a good tool for weeding out unsuitable candidates from the Education department.

I’ve been thinking about doing something with the pre-domestic au ideas. There really needs to be a “5 times...” type fic with Davey protecting Race and Crutchie that explores how the two of them learn to trust and rely on him the way they do Jack, because I have IDEAS. Or maybe they’ll just exist in these little lists. 😊

00000

@agentsnickers

#*ask #*ask game #*editor's note #the domestic au #thank you for the ask friend!! #blessings on your house 💕 #this is a little on the Davey-centric side #but consider this: I love him

[theashofwkm]

Ill-Timed Illness

Summary: Where you bump into your dead lover and brother on the street after they go missing at a party the flu stopped you from attending.

Prompt: “could you write something were the Reader was Willams sibling and Damien’s lover and they run into Dark and Wilford on the street or something? Maybe they were supposed to attend the poker night but got sick so couldn’t? Hope this is specific enough sorry.... Thank you :) and again sorry” by anon

Warnings: mentions of drinking? Blood mention. Big feeling of dread that is correct.

Note: It’s no problem, this is actually a really good idea!!! Sorry it takes me 800 million years to do any one request. Can y’all tell that I had no idea what to call this? Because I didn’t. Also small warning that my writing reads a little off here? It’s not bad, but a little funky. I don’t know. But hey, day 3 of continuous posting due to staying up late!!

———

You had been sick. You woke with a fever and a pending head and a nauseous stomach. So you sent your brother with your well wishes to Damien.

He hadn’t come home. You chalked it up to him drinking too much and being too hungover to come home.

The next day passed. Still no William. Your illness was almost over. Just a small fever, infrequent bouts of nausea you were able to suppress. You thought he got too caught up in seeing Damien again, as the two had not seen each other for quite a while. Things with them had been tense -- it’s understandable that they’d get caught up in reconnecting, isn’t it? But without a note or a call, a heads-up that he was staying over?

The third day after the party, you began to worry. You sent a small letter to the Manor, inquiring if he was alright. The servant returned, saying that no one had answered the door.

Dread began to curdle your stomach.

The next day, you no longer feel ill (besides the dread making a home out of your belly) and head over there yourself. It appeared to be abandoned. George isn’t tending the grounds and the windows are dark.

Knocking yields no results. You grab the spare key from under the mat. The air inside is still, as if it hadn’t been stirred for a while.

You noticed the cracked mirror first. Odd. Maybe that’s where everyone was, you thought. But then you see Damien’s cane and a big, red stain on the floor and you know better.

Something is wrong.

You go through the house, searching for Damien, or Mark, or William, or the Butler. It is empty. No one is home. (Someone has to be home because this is where they were and no one has seen them elsewhere -- Will and Damien haven’t come to you, and that is wrong. Damien always stops by with soup and cuddles when you aren’t feeling well and you haven’t even received a get-well note.)

You leave with an uneasy stomach. It turns and twists and you think you might be sick again.

Damien isn’t at work (you didn’t expect him to be). His secretary sweetly informs you that he hasn’t been in since early Friday - hours before the party had begun. And, strangely, he’s not the only one who hasn’t turned up. The new District Attorney, Damien’s old college friend, is missing too. They had been at Poker, too, you think.

 Your dread grows, gnawing at your churning stomach. 

You go to his house -- maybe Will had simply forgotten to pass on the news of your ill-being? But it’s odd that he hasn’t contacted you in a few days. He’s always in touch with you, too sweet in the frequency of which he sends flowers. You know he’s not at home, but where else could he be?

The butler answers the door. Damien isn’t home, he hasn’t been home all weekend. You try Celine’s house, her shop. Both are empty.

You cannot find anyone. You are out of places to look. Misty-eyed, you idle in front of Celine’s closed shop. They have all seemingly disappeared - Mark and William and Damien and Celine.

Clueless on what to do, you let Damien’s secretary go home for the week. You tell her that Damien is ill and won’t be coming to the office. You hide everyone’s disappearance. Returning home, you request to be left alone, but to be alerted immediately if anything is heard about the three men who have seemingly disappeared.

No news comes.

Months pass, a new Mayor takes Damien’s place. The five of them - Damien, Celine, William, Mark and the Y/N, the DA, are presumed dead. A funeral is held. You don’t go. It feels fake and empty, to hold a funeral for missing men.

You mourn. You always wonder what happened in that Manor that night.

* * * * *

Your life, regrettably, emptily, continues. You never really move on — how could you? Your lover and brother and friend had simply vanished one night. You don’t forgive yourself, harbor a hatred for the simple cold you had.

You would know what had happened, if you hadn’t been ill.

It is years later, and you are window shopping. The shadow of the mystery of that day haunts you, but you are used to it by now. It is the companion you are close with.

You are lost in your head - in that night, of course - when you bump into somebody on the street. You apologize profusely, bowing your head in apology. You are staring at shiny dress shoes, a male.

Your breath leaves you when you meet his face. His hair is messy, his eyes cold and his skin gray, but you know that face. You’d know it anywhere.

“Damien?”

His eyes tighten at your words, something flashing in them before they return to black slabs of ice.

“What are you— are you okay, what happened to you, where have you been, are—?” Your tongue fires off questions, tripping over them in its haste. This is your chance for answers. You are, unknowingly, gripping his suit sleeves.

He shakes you off. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice deeper and layered, not at all like the one you remember. Not at all like the voice that whispered in your ear late at night. “Who are you?”

“What?” The word is cracked, high-pitched and disbelieving. “I- I-I’m Y/N, your girlfriend, what are you—?”

“I’m afraid I don’t recognize you,” the man states coolly. You are sure that this is Damien - the likeness is uncanny, but his hair is messy and his suit is gray and his cane is gone so maybe it isn’t. “You must have me confused for someone else.”

“Yes, I- I suppose I must,” You agree quietly, both believing and distrusting your own words all at once. He is so much like Damien, identical, but his mannerism is so different. It is your Damien, but it also cannot be.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper your apology, flashing an uneasy, sad smile as you take a step back. It feels wrong— this has to be Damien. You think maybe it’s your imagination playing tricks on you.

He steps away, leaving you with your feet stuck to the floor. You had been so sure that he was Damien. He’s unusual, even without fact that he’s Damien’s duplicate.

A man dressed brightly, giddy and laughing, approaches him. The gray one — Damien, appears annoyed, but not surprised. They must know each other, you think offhandedly, your eyes still caught on the man so similar to your old lover.

The colorful one accuses not-Damien of leaving him behind and the voice sends ice through your veins, causing you to turn to the two men.

William?

Your breath is frozen, you are, watching two men who you swear you know walk away. Your feet scramble against the cobbled path as you race to catch up with them. You need to see his face. If it’s not him, not William, then you’ll continue on. You’ll forget that you ever saw them, if you see his face and it’s not him.

“Will?” You call out hesitantly, only steps behind them. He turns around, a little confused as to who’s calling for him, but accepting that it is him that is being called upon.

And you recognize his face. His hair is different, well-groomed and colored pink on top, as is his curly mustache, but it’s him. It’s him.

“William,” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes as you try not to cry. “It’s you.”

“Sorry?” His voice lilts, accented in a way it wasn’t before, much more prominent, but still so similar. “Do I know you?”

“Yes,” you say, desperate again, taking a step forward and ignoring the glare of ice from Damien. That has to be Damien, if this is William. “You’re my brother.”

William eyes Damien, posture suddenly nervous. “Brother?” He questions, turning his eyes back to you and softening the features on his face.

He takes a hesitant step forwards that is quickly stopped by Damien. “No, Wilford,” he says, shooting his glare towards you. “You would remember a sibling if you had one, wouldn’t you?”

“I—” William swings just gaze between you and and Damien, looking conflicted at the mismatching stories. “But they seem familiar,” he says, turning to Damien like a child searching for validation.

“You’ve met a lot of people,” the other man replies, your (ex) lover replies. “They’re probably just another crazed fan of yours, wanting to get on the show.”

One of you must be lying and he trusts Damien more. “Right, right.” He nods like the other man’s words make sense. “Trusty Dark, looking out for me.” He pinches Damien’s cheek -- not-Damien? He’s adamant, but there’s personal heat in his glare, rage you don’t feel over a stranger’s misunderstanding.

This is them, but they’re gone, walking away in the skin of men you know, but without the hearts you loved, that loved you. You break right there on the street and neither man turns around to check on you.

That is what makes the reality you’ve been denying sink in. Damien and William -- they are gone. Changed if not dead and they have no want for you anymore. They don’t care about you anymore.

And how could they?

You missed the night that took them away. You weren’t there when you were needed. They went missing and you will never know what happened. Poker went wrong, they changed, your brother didn’t know your name and your lover tried to make you think you were crazy. Maybe you were.

This is what you get, though, for getting sick at the wrong time. No answers and a multitude of questions that will eat you into your grave.

------

Masterlist

I realize that I accidentally made the housing situation a bit strange. So let’s just say that Celine has a cheap apartment and the reader (not the DA) has their own place that Will has been crashing at since the fallout with Mark and Celine. That fixed? Good. 

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#my writing #angst #wkm #who killed markiplier #wkm fic #theashwrites #theashangst #wkm william #wkm damien #wkm wilford #wkm dark #reader insert #honestly im kinda iffy on this one #but the one coming tomorrow is much better i promise