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#my colouring made this more purple (unintentionally) and now i need him in more colours like this
yrsonpurpose · 2 months
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Every single one of my credits to date have been royals. I have a niche!
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smilingangel582 · 10 months
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Right right right! Also I accidently deleted someone's request for oshi no ko... I think they wanted to do one together with me hehe...
Sorry buddy pls send me another ask... I'm so clumsy! Teehee
Anyway, I'll write one as a sorry
Soooo watch Oshi no ko the new anime
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Soooooo warning spoilers alert as always I saay!!!
Btw way have I ever told i aquamarine, and midnight blue are my fav colours geeeheee u know why I love him!
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Ai always had to be cheerful around them. Aquamarine Hoshino, looked at his own childish form as he had been reborn as her child. He enjoyed it to such a great extent but then again, he had so many troubles with it despite his mentality being of an adult more older than Ai.
He watched his twin sister Ruby, the clingy otaku, who's more creepier than himself. Her side eyes showed rivalry and she had more affection as a girl. Not like Aqua desired any...
He began watching the room and rolling over like any baby, but then Ai lifted him up.
"Aww, my little Aqua is more grown up than me!!! Riiiight?" She teasingly giggled now spinning him around. He didn't find much thrill in it but then again her smile was alluring.
Ruby was alseep, so they were alone this time. Seeing how she was petting him and cuddling him, he felt anxious and had concerns for his mental rights. This could be harassment for his part, but in appearance is a motherly love.
Gaaah! God, why did you make me have memories now of all time! Aqua huffed now.
Ai pouted. "Are you upset, baby?"
Aqua widened his eyes realising a mistake he made, shaking his head he gave a smile and a grin that was childish enough.
"Aww so adorable, thats my Aqua, cuter than most boys!"
He blushed but then jumped at the tingling touch at his sides.
"Oh... ohh?" She teased more."Are we ticklish?"
It's strange how Gorou was actually ticklish in his previous life but somehow assumed he grew out of it, but it's been a while since he's been tickled like this.
He curled to her side to escape the touch, unintentionally being a child for his appearance.
"Well, Ruby has her laughter and bubbly joy despite not being ticklish, but I guess it's luck that you..." she poked his belly again "happened to be sensitive... rwaaar! Tickle monster's attack!"
Mostly, Aqua's squeals and laughter made Ruby open her eyes from her nap. Speaking of Ruby, Aqua was bewildered that someone of her personality was not in the slightest ticklish!
"Mahaha... hahaha, maa..." he was embarrassed by that unwilling sound he said to call her. She was more joyed by it and buried her nose into his belly again "kawaiii (cutee) kawaiii needed Aquaaaa chaan!"
Aqua noticed how Ruby was snickering at him but then Ai picked her up too who was clueless to why she wasn't ticklish.
Disappointed by that Ai's purple eyes glimmering softly "Aaah seems Aqua inherited Ruby's ticklishness as well... which is why he's this sensitive"
"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy that, oni chan!" Ruby giggled making Aqua uneasy as he was constantly being picked on by his little sister from then on.
At least he made Ai smile...
That's what's worth of all this humiliation.
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jaeminscoffee · 3 years
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Colours | X. Dj
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Pairing» Xiaojun x f!Reader
Genre» Angst, Fluff, Smut (suggestive)
Warning(s)» Friends to lovers trope, Xiaojun kinda loses his temper but that subdues, heavy makeout session, groping, public sex, fingering, implied sex towards the ending (open imagination since the request was kinda vague), steamy, our boi dejun get's flustered by Y/n's bubbly personality. I think that's about it. Lmao not proof read, so it will contain a hell lot of mistakes.
Wc; type» 2.06k ; oneshot
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Red.
All Xiaojun could see is Red. 
To have the person who dragged him all the way to some stupid reunion party against his will to abandon him in the first five minutes with the pathetic excuse of "I'll go grab us some drinks" only to never return back to his aid had Xiaojun boil with anger. 
To have you smiling and laughing, clinging and grasping at a man he's never seen before is Infuriating. 
To see you so smitten by a guy other than Xiaojun had him seeing crimson with comically visible smoke coming out of his ears, arms shaking, jaw set rigid with palms growing moist from all the clenching and unclenching. 
Xiaojun felt yellow. 
He felt insecure at how the man before you just seemed to be much to your taste. 
He felt unsure of whether or not he should risk walking up to you and talk the talk he'd wanted to let out since the day you stood up for the lad. And inevitably, and much to his pleasure, stood by him in the process till date. 
He felt that maybe, just maybe, he's not worthy of having a girl as astounding as you. And all that sliver of hope he'd held onto only seemed to be slipping away from his grasp. 
Xiaojun felt blue. 
The dreading feeling that he'd lose all that the two of you built until where your relationship stands today with a single mistake bubbles inside of him. 
Watching you from afar with a man potentially your dream guy just made him feel blue. Numb, and as though a part of him was slowly chipping away. 
The immense feeling of sheer sadness had him want to turn on his heels and back out to what he thinks "get out of your way" and to prevent further breakage of his heart. 
Until he saw red again. 
Watching you throw yourself at this stranger, arms tightly wrapped around the bastard's waist, hips joint, with his hands running through the soft curls of your tresses, "who does he think he is?" 
How entitled must this man think he is to expand the white between the two of you? You and Xiaojun were meant to be and he'd only flick your head and call you stupid if you ever said otherwise. 
Eyebrows furrowing as Xiaojun followed each of your actions. How your chin tucks and you hide your face in this 'dream bastard's' chest, arms idly resting on his torso, your hair covering your face from all the moving around. He kept watching you;
Until your gaze met. 
Time seemed to stand still, in a much cliché fashion. Seeing the expressionless look on his face seemed to have clicked the power on button somewhere in your head.
You'd unintentionally abandoned the man you promised you wouldn't. 
Almost as though Xiaojun could see the wheels turning inside your head, he sneers at you, immediately turning around to walk into a corner the moment he saw you approaching him through the crowd filled with hookers, stoners, and people too bored for their own good. 
"Jun, wait up!" 
He could hear your shrill voice call out to him the moment he rounded a turn. He didn't turn, however, mind clouded red, crimson and ebony with jealousy, envy and all mixed emotions, he felt dizzy. 
You catching up to him only seemed to worsen his dizziness, "Jun! I-i'm so sorry i forgot about you, it's just my b-" 
"Forgot about me, huh?" Xiaojun's voice comes gruff, hoarse from the inadequate usage. He doesn't bother turning around to look at you, wouldn't have done much anyways, the lighting of the area so dim, he can barely make out your silhouette. 
Besides, his vision is clouded with black, wouldn't have done much anyways. 
"No no, not forget forget about you! I just got caught up with my b-" 
"boyfriend? Y/n, are you oblivious to not know how  I feel? Am I vague? Oh I'm sorry, am I not obvious enough?" Through the darkness, you could see Xiaojun's shoulder shake, his tone strained, his head hung low, avoiding your gaze the closer you got. "Jun, what are you talking about?" 
You seemed to be feeling grey, confused. 
"Your boyfriend, Y/n." 
"Jun, boyfriend-!" "I like you damn it!" you flinch as he abruptly turns around, the red building inside him so rapidly that it inevitably ends up exploding.
"You know I like you, no, I love you. Why else would you have been waltzing around acting like a pliant, docile girlfriend?" The grey intensifies within you the faster Xiaojun talks quick strides towards you. 
Your silence and the unconscious stepping back seemed to plant a seed of yellow within him again. "You led me on. You seemingly ignored my feelings. Because you obviously know I like you, don't you?" The red appears again, mixing with the intense yellow, blending into a terrific orange as Xiaojun closes the space between the two of you with newfound confidence. 
"You like me.." you whisper, your palms pressing onto the greasy wall behind you where Xiaojun had you cornered, your eyes shaking in ecstasy. He likes you, no. He loves you.
"You need to a whole 'nother level of airhead if you think i view you merely as a friend-" Somewhere in your head, you know he's talking to you, but his voice seems to numb out in the beautiful crimson that's taking over your heart, with a slight mix of elegant yellow and purple so faint it could come off as violet. "You like me!" you look up at him. 
"-Yes, Y/n, keep up god damn! But do you care? Of course not! You go get yourself a boyfriend while i wallow in self pity-" 
"Oh god you like me!" you bounce with all the vibrant colors swirling inside you, your arms lifting up to wrap around the lads neck, who jumps at the unexpected action, looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and slight fury.
"Does it matter, Y/n? Your boyfriend's probably looking for you now-" 
"Jun, what are you talking about? I don't have a boyfriend!" you pull him down to be leveled with you, looking him intensely in the eye as you watch the familiar grey dominate his irises. 
"Th-Then, that man you were all over..? You cannot possibly tell me he's not your boyfriend" he seems to be fighting to hold onto the red fury as it slowly turns into a rosy flush. "The man I was all over..?" you question seemingly to yourself, as the wheels turn  in your head once again until the entire process comes to an abrupt halt at the realization hitting you. 
"Jun, that's my brother! My cousin!" 
The look on the lad's face is so incredulous that you break out into a cheshire grin, "you were jealous of my brother?" you giggle, as you playfully punch at his chest which deflates as he radiates bright crimson, skin heated. 
"o-okay brother. brother, alright. Though, I still don't stand a chance, do i?" Xiaojun questions, stammering with embarrassment while being overcome with a sudden sense of blue. Sure you didn't have a boyfriend, doesn't change the fact that you're way out of his league. 
You stare into his eyes, hoping that would somehow convey the answer to his question, but the more you just look at him, the more the light in his eyes seems to dim out. 
Offering him a soft smile, which he doesn't seem to notice, you catch him off guard when you lift his head up, tilting it while pressing your lips onto his ever so gently. Providing a soft peck as you sigh in ecstasy. 
You let your lips linger a little longer, silently pouring out your heart into the soft action of affection before hesitantly pulling away. 
"Does that answer your question?" your gentle voice pulls Xiaojun out of his haze. 
You kissed him. You like him. He stands a chance with you. 
That seems to snap the last bit of self restraint in him as he captures your lips once again with much fervor. Molding his lips with yours, all signs of softness thrown out of the window as his hands circle your hips, pulling you flush against him. 
The feeling of your heat encircling him makes him groan into the kiss, making a wave of shock run through your spine. The hairs on your hand standing proud as you play with the hair at the back of his neck, pulling at it. 
Biting down on your lips, Xiaojun positively earns a moan from you. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into yours, easily dominating your tongue as you slowly, subconsciously start grinding against him, making him squeeze tight at your hips. 
"I.. Love you.. Jun" you say in between the kiss as his hands travel further south, groping at your ass, pulling you in, supporting your grinds on his crotch.
"Fuck.." he sighs at the words, slithering wet kisses from your lips to the edge of your lips, moving onto the jaw before choosing to nip at the skin, "say it again, doll" he rasps onto your neck, while his hands sneakily makes its way under the flimsy material of your skirt, thumbing at your growing wetness while staring intently at you, silently asking for the green flag to proceed.
"I.. I love you. I love you, Xiaojun!" you nod at him while pouring all your adoration onto the lad, you'd waited too long for the two of you to take it slow from now on forth. 
Xiaojun moves your panties to the side, immediately finding the bundle of nerves, pressing nimbly onto your clit, basking in your little whimpers and shakes. 
He wastes no time to draw figure eights onto the sensitive bud, cooing at you while marking his territory on your neck, your jaw, the naked skin of your shoulders and collarbone, exposed by the off shoulder top you'd chosen for the evening. 
"I love you, too, princess. You've no idea how long I've waited for this moment." he moans onto your neck while sliding in a slender digit into your wet cavern. 
You grow frantic, soaking in all the emotions Xiaojun is pouring onto you with his actions and words, being pulled close to your high, embarrassing faster than you'd appreciate.
"You've no idea how many times I'm imagined taking you until all you can remember is my name, not even yours" he starts moving his digits after fitting in another one of his long fingers, the slick pouring out of your cunt pooling onto his palms as your moans come out as squeals. Your brain is hazing with a pleasant pink, blue and red. All of the emotions overwhelming you.
"You look gorgeous, doll face" he kisses softly at the side of your lips when you start clenching around his fingers, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.
"J-Jun.." you sigh, face flush with content, legs shaking, your form only being held up by his strong grip, his intense gaze making you feel so small, so vulnerable, all the tell-tale signs of your orgasm nearing you present as he accelerates his fingers, clearly catching onto the fact that you'd come undone any second. 
"You gonna come for me, pretty? Am I making you feel good?" he grunts while nibbling at the lobe of your ears, digits moving so fast inside your calls that you can hear the squelching obscene voices of your walls over the loud music playing in the background, his palm constantly rubbing against your clit. 
"Feel's so g-good, Jun.." You grip onto his forearm to keep you grounded as your orgasm washes over you. Your jaw slacks as you convulse around his fingers. Xiaojun cooing praises into your ears as he helps you ride out your orgasm, pulling you into a kiss as you push his fingers away when he slowly drives you into overstimulation. 
"Fuck, you're perfect." he stares at you with adoration while you catch your breath. Forcing yourself to step out of your daze. You smile shyly until it turns into a sly smirk as you move your hands to grab at his painfully evident dent, slowly rasping out as you move closer to him,
"Your place or mine?" 
The red never felt so satisfying to Xiaojun until now. 
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MariJon Week
Day5: Social Media/Life Swap
It's gone midnight but it's still day 5 somewhere in the world and I've 3% battery left!
This prompt was not playing ball to write but it's done! It's not proof read but it's finished finally!!
Masterlist
Day1 Day2 Day3 Day4 Day6 Day7
____________________________________
Who would have thought a hashtag would have resulted in this. A “small series” of videos. A quick succession of tweets and a “innocuous” request have ended up like this. Even more so that she didn’t really used twitter a whole lot.
Marinette smiled amusedly, her attention to watching the chaos unfold in front of her. If Ayla was upset, then it was her own fault in the first place.
Six months ago:
Miss Bustier’s class were used to Marinette ranting about Akuma designs and costumes. The class had taken to recording these outbursts as a result and posting edited versions on twitter. She had gained her own hashtag because of a particular caped akuma; #EdnaModeHasSpoken
Someone (Alix) had thought it would be amazing idea to ask for requests to have the Parisian Edna Mode “discuss” global villains. Alix and Kim printed off what pictures they could find on the net of them and primed Alya up to record and let Marinette roll.
And oh boy did she roll. She tore into the Riddler’s wrong shade green and purple mix. She praised Lex Luthor on suit colours until she ripped into him on the suit cut. With Prankster she bemoaned the lack of originality of it all, a hybrid attire of Ridder and Joker.
Over the course of a few months almost biweekly Alya posted a new update of “Edna’s” views on the world of villain fashion. The harshest critique came when villains chose poor fashion rather than the poor Akuma victims who were forced by Hawkmoth.
Three months ago:
A new type of request came in to Alya's account. Specifically from @Zombieboy requesting that Edna review Gotham Vigilante's as she had done a tremendous reviews on Gotham's Rogues.
Seeing the pictures Alya had found, Marinette let a high pitch shrill before starting to pace.
"What the… how the… underwear on top of tights?! Where's the Kevlar?! The protection!!!
Traffic light children!!! With not trousers!!!
Is that a tampon on his head?! A swim hat?!
Why skin tight?! They dont have magic! Have they lost their marbles???"
Marinette drew in a deep breathe before releasing
"Capes!!! Are they trying to kill themselves. It's hero 101 no capes?! What are they thinking. They're from Earth … they are from Earth right? Superman obviously copied Batman's fashion sense and he's an alien. The poor man is blind but coping Batman's fashion. It's hideous!!
The only semi decent is tampon head as at least he looks like he has some armour protection. And no Cape. The leather jacket is tolerable but he needs a different cut!"
Marinette's pacing inreased with her disgust and somehow had picked up her sewing scissors and started to wave them around as she got more and more wound up.
"Capes and underwear!! Are they serious about saving the world dressed like that. It's an eye sore. Capes!!
What is with Gotham fashion?!?"
"Em… can you put the the scissors down please?!"
Alya ended up having to stop filming to help Alix try wrestle the scissors from Marinettes grasp.
#EdnaModeHasSpoken #BatmanLostHisMarbles #BatmanVsSupermanFashionCrimes #UnderWearAsOuterwearNoThankYou #CapesNoCapes #EdnaNeedsToPutTheScissorsDown
One month ago:
Some how unintentionally Marinette had managed to get into the middle a Twitter battle between Metropolis and Gotham. @TrueHeir had decided that Gotham had obviously superior fashion crimes than Metropolis stating that being the worst at fashion was a skill that Metropolis didn't have as they had to copy Gotham. Which had caused a backlash led by @BoyOfSteel stating that Metropolis moved away from wearing pants and having a leather jacketed hero first.
The battle online got quite heated until @TrueHeir demanded that the mysterious Edna wade in and settle the debate.
The issue suddenly became that Edna never really had her whole face shown @SassyFox managed to film it in such a way that it was hidden. Edna didn't seem to have Twitter. The way to solve it was to track down @SassyFox.
One week ago:
Jon and Damian via covertly using the Bat Computer managed to track @SassyFox down to Paris. They located a small(ish) area that based on the videos and pictures regularly taken. The pair looked at each other and knew that's where they were heading. They wanted, no NEEDED to Edna to settle this arguement of there's.
Checking that no one was about the pair zeta'd to Paris. They were men on a mission. A mission to resolve this fashion disaster crisis. Was Batman and Gotham or Superman and Metropolis the worst dressed.
They'd spent the day camped out in a local park. But no sign of anyone remotely like @SassyFox. To replenish supplies the pair decided to try out some local cuisine.
Jon insisted on this bakery. All the reviews rated it as one of the best in Paris and he had to try it. Walking in he met with the heavenly delight smells of pastries. He could feel his mouth drooling with the onslaught of sights and smells. He dragged Damian in to look at all the treats hidden behind the glass. Jon was drawn out of his pastry driven haze by a sweet voice asking if he wanted anything. Looking up to the source of the fairy like voice was a cute face. Blue eyes shimmer with amusement and blush coloured gloss graced lips twitch towards a suppressed smile.
"Everything!" Jon responded without thinking. Causing an eyebrow to raise on the girl's face.
"Tt! What Kent means is what would you recommend? Savour and Sweet."
Smiling a broad grin the girl launched into describing the pastries and treats and suggesting recommendations. She packed their goodies up and sent them on there way.
One day ago:
"Morning Jon, Damian, the usual?"
"Please, Marinette. Could you also pack another box on those macaroons you had yesterday as well?"
"Sure things. I take it they were a success?"
Jon nodded in agreement.
Jon and Damian after their first visit and repeatedly ended up at the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and Patisserie over the course of the week. Jon was hooked on the sweets and maybe a little (a lot according to Damian) taken by Marinette, the girl at the counter.
"The macaroons were above average."
"That's Dames speak for excellent" Jon cheerful supplied. "Hey Marinette are you on twitter?"
Jon picked up some cursing under her breath something about Alya and she was going to *kill* her before she plastered a fake smile on her face.
"I'm not. My friend uses it all the time though."
"Oh, so you've heard about the Parisian Edna Mode?" Jon cocked his head to the side. Marinette's heartbeat had picked up. Through gritted teeth so responded,
"Yup. I've heard about *Edna* my friends are slightly obsessed with it all. They *adore*her reactions."
She smile loosed at the American pair as the morning rush started to pick up.
"Sorry guys, I best finish your order off and help Maman deal with the queue building."
She effectively concluded the conversation in a polite and effective manner before waving them off with the supplies for the day.
"She knows more than she is letting on."
"Mentioning Edna made her heart beat quicker Dames. Do you think she knows her?"
"It is a high potential. Today we should stay near the bakery as formour hunting grounds."
Now:
Damian and Jon were at the park near the bakery. It appeared Marinette was off today so was missing from the bakery so Jon was "sulking".
By pure chance or coincidence, potentially luck, though the pair saw her enter the park with a group of friends and set up a picnic for them all. One was setting up music to play while others seemed to be playing an elaborate (childish) game of tag. Marinette her self looked gorgeous in a pale pink sundress. She outshone everyone she was with. When Marinette saw them she gave them a wave causing a blush to cross his cheeks.
They were content observing from a distance until Jon grabbed Damian's arm.
"It's her!!!"
Even from the distance, Marinette was mimicking Edna's wound up animated gestures of frustration. Jon could hear the growl and heat in her voice. It was a perfect match. Damian watched while quickly researching Marinette and who the girl filming was. It was all lining up. The final evidence was when a pink hair girl threw herself on Marinette crying out "Em!!" in a similar fashion to the scissor incident. Em wasn't a name but M short for Marinette.
Damian finally had found his mark and was determined to end this war with him being correct. This time it was him dragging Jon towards the girl.
"You're Edna!! You didn't tell us yesterday when we asked about it!"
"Yeah, my gurls Edna what about it. Who are you?" Alya quickly jumped in.
Marinette flapped at Damian, flustered by his bluntness.
"TrueHeir and BoyOfSteel. Edna needs to make a decision on which city has the worst fashion. Gotham or Metropolis. Once that's done this arguement can be settled and we can move on."
"What?!?! Damian??? Jon??? You've come all the way to Paris to resolve that??. What the…" Marinette looked confused at the pair. It seemed extreme to go to so much effort to find her just to settle this.
"You've stalked my gurl!!! You freak!! That's crazy. You're crazy!! All because of an arguement you two got into!!"
"Alya… you may have started it with posting all this?"
Marinette tried to defuse the situation which didn't really work.
"So who is worst?!" Demanded Damian.
"I… errr…." Marinette looked between the two boys. Which ever city she chose wouldn't be the end of this so she needed to think quickly. But she was panicking now….
"Star City!" She cried out.
The boys stopped and looked at her.
"What?!?! No! That's not what we asked. Why? You had to have chose Gotham." Damian was not impressed and about to launch in to integration mode when Alya cornered him and demanded that now he knew that he had to leave Marinette alone.
Jon just stared at Marinette. She had completely changed the rules and cleverly removed potentially tension that could of occured between him and Damian. The bragging right was taken away and handed elsewhere. With that thought Jon gentle grabbed Marinette's hand to get her whole attention. He softly kissed her cheek and smiled playfully at her.
"Sneaky move. Nicely played though Edna."
Marinette grinned up at him, knowing he got what she did before the pair turned around to watch the chaos of their best friends.
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kumeko · 3 years
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A/N: For the Butterfly Estate Zine! Spoilers for later events in the manga, for anime-onlys.
Shinobu pressed her fingers against the coin, feeling the imprint of the hard edges on her skin. Even in the warm, spring sunlight, the metal felt cold. “Kanae gave this to you, right?” she asked, idly turning it over on her palm.
 Standing next to her, Kanao nodded her head slowly. “To help me decide,” she explained, a fond smile on her face. There was a hint of sorrow in her expression, something Shinobu saw in the mirror whenever she thought of her sister. It was less than it was yesterday, less than it was a year ago, and while it would be ever present, the pain had eased.
 Shinobu glanced at her younger sister. A chill breeze blew through, ruffling her hair and the butterfly clasp keeping her locks together. Would she wear a second one, when Shinobu died? A memento from both sisters? Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Shinobu closed her hand around the coin. “Despite how she acted, she always knew what to do.”
 Kanao clasped her hands in front of her, nodding. “She did.” Peeking up, she added shyly, “And so do you.”
“Do I?” Shinobu questioned, looking up at the Wisteria trees that bordered her estate. Their sickly-sweet scent lingered in the air, the purple blooms fluttering in the wind, and even after all this time, Shinobu couldn’t get used to their scent. She felt small and impermanent in comparison to the eternally blooming giants. The problem she faced was bigger than her, almost as old as the trees themselves.
 A part of her feared it would continue long after she was gone.
 A soft touch brought her out of her thoughts and she looked down to find Kanao’s hand wrapped around hers. In front of her, her sister uttered simply, “Yes.”
 For once, Kanao looked self-assured, no doubt colouring her voice. Shinobu swallowed. It was wrong of her to lean on Kanao so much, to need this confidence. Despite herself, she raised her other hand, sandwiching Kanao’s between hers. “I guess you’re right,” she finally said, keeping her voice from cracking.
 This settled it. Any reservations she had about her idea, Shinobu let go. Her time was limited. It had always been the case, ever since she’d picked up her sister’s sword. No, even before that, when her parents had died, when she’d taken the Master’s hand, her body trembling from fear. It was just more so now; she knew her expiration date better than most.
 Only, this wasn’t just revenge. It couldn’t be. Not when Kanao was standing in front of her, love and belief shining through her eyes.
 No, this was about protecting. About keeping her family, however small it was now, safe.
 “Thanks.” Shinobu pulled her hand free. The coin was still on her hand, heavy as ever.
 “Do you need to make a decision?” Kanao asked, her eyes flickering from the coin to Shinobu.
 “I guess. Heads, I’ll do it.” Shinobu flipped the coin, watching the bronze gleam in the sunlight. She already knew what side it’d land.
 Tomorrow, she’d talk to the Master about the Wisteria poison.
 -x-
 “AHHHH!” Tanjirou roared, his sword high in the air as he charged forward. Shinobu could almost see the rush of an incoming wave, the clash against the rocks when he struck. If Giyuu’s technique had the tranquility of a pond, Tanjirou’s was the aggressive stream coursing ever forward.
 And she was the water spider, gliding above it all. She jumped, flipping through the air and landing behind him. Unable to change his course or stop his momentum, Tanjirou crashed into one of the trees surrounding the training grounds. He rolled backwards, falling flat on his back.
 “Good effort,” she praised, tucking a lock behind her ear as she bent over him.
 “T-thanks,” he wheezed. He lay there and tried to catch his breath.
 “You’re getting better.” Shinobu lifted her right arm and inspected her uniform. Poking her finger through the hole he made, she chuckled. All this from a boy who just learned to keep his breathing constant. “You’re a quick learner.”
 Tanjirou’s eyes lit up and he sat up quickly. “Really?”
 “Really,” she nodded, humming her agreement.
 “G-great.” He’d moved too quickly, and his body struggled to keep him upright before giving up entirely. Falling flat on his back, he closed his eyes and sighed happily. “I can try again in a minute.”
 There was something utterly refreshing about his earnestness and honesty. It reminded her a little of Rengoku. Maybe she should have them meet properly after this. Sitting next to him on the cool, wet grass, she leaned back and enjoyed the cool breeze. “It’s fine, take your time.”
 “Thanks.” His breathing had yet to even out.
 Glancing over to her right, she observed their audience on the veranda. Hidden in the shade, Nezuko was watching them curiously, her pink eyes bright despite the gloom. Kiyo was sitting behind her, braiding her hair, while Sumi and Naho neatly folded their laundry. At first, they’d run away at the sight of her, but now, they looked almost too relaxed next to her.
 Nezuko. A demon that didn’t hunger. Shinobu’s eyes flicked back to the panting Tanjirou. “You’re going to kill Muzan for her,” she asked without thinking.
 Tanjirou’s eyes flew open and he stared at her in surprise.  “How…”
 She chuckled. “It’s not like you hide it.” Or, even if he tried, could hide it well. Tanjirou was far too frank for deception.
 “R-right.” Tanjirou gave a sheepish smile, his cheeks colouring a light red. No doubt he was remembering past declarations of Muzan’s death. He sat up slowly and waved to Nezuko. “It’s the only way to save her.”
 Shinobu imagined her expression was the same whenever she looked at Kanae—tender, soft, a little sad. Picking a strand of grass, she methodically tore it to pieces. “You could die.”
 “I won’t,” he replied immediately, filled with the confidence of youth. For a moment, she believed him. There was something in Tanjirou that she hadn’t seen in ages, a hopeful belief in the future mixed with a tragic understanding of the present.
 Perhaps Muzan could be defeated in her lifetime.
 Still, wishes didn’t make things so, and Shinobu tossed the grass pieces at him. “You could die,” she repeated firmly.
 Tanjirou looked at her now. Recognizing the seriousness of the question, he frowned, crossing his arms as he considered it. “I…” He lowered his eyes, taking a deep breath before offering a sad smile. “That doesn’t matter. Nezuko’s family; I have to try, no matter what.” Once more, he looked at his sister. “She’d do the same for me.”
 “That, I can understand.” Even now, she could smell the Wisteria, hear the click of her nail flipping the coin. Kanae’s blood had been so warm, her body so cold. There were things you did for family, no matter the cost, and she found herself looking for Kanao even though she wouldn’t be here. “There are some things more important than your life.”
 “Yeah.” Tanjirou nodded.
 Shinobu turned to him, sizing him up. He’d survived grief, managed to stand even when sorrow threatened to swallow him whole. Kanao would need someone like that when she died. Selfishly, she asked, “Would you be friends with Kanao?”
 His eager nod eased the load on her shoulders ever so slightly.
 -x-
 Sitting on the porch, Shinobu gently swirled the sake in her cup. It was a rare night she got to relax, to just sit here and admire the night sky. The moon hung low in the heavens, full and heavy, and the gentlest of breezes rustled through the grass.
 Behind her, quiet footsteps approached her and she smiled. “I thought you didn’t like drinking,” she teased, glancing over her shoulder as Giyuu stepped out into the moonlight.
 “I don’t,” he stated, slowly sitting down next to her. As usual, his blank expression and dry tone gave away nothing.
 “Could have fooled me,” she muttered, taking a sip. She wasn’t quite sure when this had started, this almost-habit of late-night drinking. At some point, he’d started joining her when she relaxed and watched the moon. At some point, she’d stopped minding it.
 “I don’t think anyone could fool you,” he answered bluntly, his eyes on the moon.
 She chuckled. For a man who didn’t know how to joke, he was constantly unintentionally funny. “No, I suppose not.” Her wits were the only thing that made up for her stature. Leaning forward, she smiled teasingly. “So did you miss my company or the view while you were away?”
 Giyuu’s brow furrowed, the only indication that he was frowning. He fell silent, more so than usual, and she hadn’t expected him to consider her question so seriously.
 Perhaps she should let him off easy this time. It had been a while since they’d last sat together like this and despite her attitude, she did enjoy his company. Somehow. It wouldn’t do to scare him away. “You don’t—”
 “Both,” Giyuu finally admitted.
 “—have to…” Shinobu trailed off, blinking as she processed his answer. Staring at him, she tried not to gape. “Both?”
 He merely nodded. Nothing about his straight back, the profile of his blank face, or even his hands, neatly tucked into the opposite arm’s sleeves, gave away his emotions.
 Both. Shinobu bit her lip, stopping herself from asking what exactly he meant by that. Did he like this quiet hour together too? Did he just miss the calm of it all? And would it be worth the frustrating hours of trying to pull the words from his lips?
 No, definitely not. Still, in a rare moment of honesty, she smiled into her cup. “Me too.”
 He glanced at her when she said that but still said nothing.
 She swirled her sake once more. The moon’s reflection rippled in the clear liquid. Butterflies danced in the nearby wisteria trees and even when she died, that scent would follow her to her grave. Taking advantage of the atmosphere, she asked, “Why did you spare Tanjirou and Nezuko?”
 From the corner of her eyes, she watched as he bit his lip, his frown growing deeper as he grappled with an answer. After a long silence punctuated only by the soft chirp of the cicadas, he finally answered, “She protected him.”
 “That was unusual for a demon,” she agreed. His expression was dark and she wondered if that reminded him of some incident in his past, some haunting memory he hadn’t finished wrestling with. For all her talk about becoming friends with demons, she would have killed Nezuko on the spot. Almost had, in fact, if not for the Master’s intervention.
 And now this unusual demon and her brother could be the very key to ending centuries worth of conflict. She set down her sake, no longer thirsty. “They’re going to come for her soon.” Shinobu could almost feel it. The new training, the Master’s changed tactics, everything was coming to a head.
 Her days were numbered. A year’s worth of poison had to be enough to bring the demon down. Tomorrow, or maybe the day after, she’d have to tell Kanao. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.
 “Yeah.” Giyuu nodded, finally looking at her. “We’ll be ready.”
 Shinobu raised a brow. “That’s surprisingly hopeful of you.” He didn’t say anything but she had a feeling it was Tanjirou’s influence.
 Something started changing after Tanjirou had arrived, and it wasn’t just the demons who’d transformed. She heard the quiet clink of a coin, saw gold flipping against the bright blue sky. The coin would land, the die set, and there was no time to say it but now. Fiddling with her sleeves, Shinobu asked quietly, “Could you take care of Kanao?” Impassive eyes stared at her and she smiled, giving nothing away. “If something happens,” she clarified.
 “No,” he answered just as bluntly as he normally did.
 “How cruel.” Shinobu sighed.
 “She has you,” Giyuu continued, as steady as a river, and for all the deaths they’d experienced, it seemed hers had never crossed his mind.
 Shinobu took pride in the compliment. She hoped it wouldn’t hurt him too much when he found out he was wrong. “She does.”
 There was a small gap between them, a space that had shrunk in the past years. She wondered if it would have disappeared in the coming months, if their fingers would have overlapped and thighs brushed one another.
 A question she’d never know the answer to. She felt sadder at that than she’d thought.
 -x-
 The demon’s strikes were harder than she’d expected. Shinobu lay on the wooden platform, gasping as she tried to breathe. Her ribs were cracked, a trickle of blood escaping her lips, and she barely had the energy to open her eyes, let alone grab her sword.
 No wonder he was an upper moon. He was far too strong, and she couldn’t kill him with her weapon.
 She’d hoped and hoped, but it seemed there was no wiggling out of her fate.
 Shinobu, Kanae stood by her head, her expression sad. You know what to do.
 Shinobu closed her eyes. Somewhere, a coin glinted in the sun, flipping through the air. Somewhere, the wisteria trees perfumed the air with their sticky, sweet scent. If she were honest, she’d made her decision long before that. The second she’d picked up her sister’s abandoned sword, rage swirling in her petite body, she’d known one way or another this was her destiny.
 Grabbing her sword, Shinobu took a deep breath. Maybe she should have closed that gap, reached over and grabbed Giyuu’s hand. Or prepared Kanao better, there were so many things she’d wanted to teach her.
 Damn it all, she thought she’d prepared herself for this, but there were so many things she wanted to do, to say. Her sister stared down at her and Shinobu hoped she wasn’t disappointed that she was going to die the same way she had.
 “Is that all?” Doma sighed, his voice grating her ears.
 “No,” she gritted out, forcing herself to stand.
 It was too late for regrets.
 The coin had landed heavily, the symbol digging into her skin. Heads, she had declared, her heart heavy with resignation. I guess I’ll do it.
 Shinobu raised her sword and charged.
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simsadventures · 4 years
Text
Baby, I’m Back
Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Summary: Steve has been gone for far too long. He comes back exhausted, hurt, but, most importantly, touch starved. And you are ready to be there for him in every sense of the word.
Warnings: fluff, mentions of violence, mentions of blood and injuries, implied smut
Word Count: 1616
A/N: This was written for @justkending​ and her WC #justkendingwritingchallenge. Thank you so much for letting me participate, and congratulations to your followers! My prompt was did you just bite me? and it will be in italics in the text. Hope you all will enjoy it, and as always, feedback is gold, so let me please know what you thought about it.
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Steve Rogers Masterlist __ Masterlist
You whined in frustration and kicked the blanket off of your body. You desperately wanted to sleep, but Steve’s absence in your bed was unbearable. He had been gone for more than a month, and as much as you tried to be a strong and independent woman during the day, the facade fell off during the night, when you just couldn’t fall asleep without his strong arms around your waist.
Not that you haven’t been on two smaller missions without him, but neither took more than three days and even though you hoped you’d come back to find Steve and Natasha already back from their undercover mission, you always came to an empty apartment. You didn’t even have that much information about him, just the once in a few days report, stating that they were both fine. Nothing more than that.
You sat up in the bed and glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand. It read 12:36, and you rolled your eyes. You asked yourself if it would be too much of a trouble for your head to shut up for just one night so that you could feel like a human being again in the morning.
It was then that you heard a weird noise coming from the front door. You scrunched your brows and squinted your eyes, your agent nature coming alive as you silently got out of the bed, taking your gun from underneath your pillow, where you always kept it when Steve wasn’t there with you, and you moved towards the open door in your bedroom.
Your eyes still didn’t adjust to the darkness, so you could only make out the crude form of the objects in front of you, and the shape of the person standing by the door. It was a man, you were sure of that. But how he got to the Avengers’ Compound unheard and unseen, that was beyond you. You wanted to scold FRIDAY for falling asleep, or whatever AIs did when the person touched the reading lamp next to your favourite armchair.
And when you adjusted to the sudden light, you could see why FRIDAY didn’t raise panic in the whole compound. There he was, your Steve, his back to you, breathing heavily, getting rid of his tactical gear and weaponry.
You willed your heart to stop pounding, and let go of the gun in your hand, and the second it landed on the couch with a small thud, Steve’s body tensed before he swiftly turned around.
When he saw that it was you, his face softened, but the tension was still there. Even in the dim light, you could still see the bruises on Steve’s face, and how dirty his gear was. The only thing you didn’t know if it was dirty from some mud, or from the blood. And if the latter, if it was his blood or somebody else’s.
But you didn’t give a damn. You sprinted across the room before you were safely snuggled against his hard chest, and his face found its way to the crook of your neck- his favourite place. You could feel him sighing a happy sigh, his arms tightening around you.
“Baby, I’m home,” Steve husked against your skin, and you pulled away, hearing the undertone in his voice. He was beyond tired, and his face bore traces of the previous fight, and you suspected that his whole body would be covered in marks like that. You knew what he was saying wasn’t even meant for you. He was reassuring himself that he was finally back from that hell.
You scraped his scalp with your nails, knowing how much he loved the feeling, and you let him melt against your body. His hands found your bare hips where your sleeping shirt didn’t reach, and he drew small circles there.
“Yeah, you’re home, baby! You’re alright, and I’ve got you, Stevie. C’mon, let’s have a relaxing shower, I’ll help you get all cleaned up, and then we go to sleep. You look like you haven’t slept in days,” you didn’t scold him, but you pointed out the obvious. Steve didn’t say anything, you just felt him nod slightly, and you knew that was all the agreement you were gonna get, so you grabbed his hand, and gently pushed him in the way of your bathroom.
Once in, you slowly stripped him off his clothes. What would typically be a sexy chore, was now no more than your careful moves, and Steve’s painful grunts from when you unintentionally touched his covered bruises. The tactical gear looked terrific and was extremely functional, but getting one out of it, especially when hurt, was the worst thing.
It took you good 10 minutes to strip Steve bare, and when you did, you checked him out once again. There was a massive gash on his back that was already healing thanks to the serum in his body, but it was still obviously painful, the bruise around it still purple-black. There were other smaller gashes across his chest and abdomen, some even on his arms and legs paired with bruises of all colours.
Steve was just standing there, in front of you, and the usually very dominant person was now obediently waiting for your commands. That’s how you knew it was really bad. You didn’t want to push him into telling what went down, even though you knew he’d have to get it off of his chest one way or the other. But that could wait after he was clean and well-rested.
You adjusted the shower so that the flow wasn’t too harsh on his skin, and when you were satisfied with both the pressure and the temperature, you took Steve’s hand and led him in. He held onto your hand for dear life, it seemed, and when you looked at him, his eyes were blood-shut, and you could see he was barely keeping them open. Still, his other hand found its way to your hip, and he pulled you closer to his body, humming when you were fully pressed against him.
His face was once again between your neck and shoulder, and when you tried to pull away to start washing him up, you could feel a slight sting where his mouth was before you felt his tongue lapping on your skin.
“Did you just bite me?” you asked, amusement evident in your voice.
You could feel Steve smirking against your skin, before he bit you again, harder this time eliciting a moan from you. It was too long since you felt his hands and lips on you, and your body reacted accordingly.
You still managed to pull away, despite Steve’s hands trying to keep in place. You raised an eyebrow at his behaviour, and he just shrugged innocently, giving you the puppy eyes.
“What? I missed you, Y/N. Is it so wrong that I want to enjoy some time with my girlfriend?”
“Let me take care of you first, and then we can cuddle till the end of the days, ok, baby? I hate to see you like this, all beaten up and shaken, and I just need to take care of my man, before I let him snuggle me to death, which I know is coming,” you joked, trying to hide the tightness in your throat.
Steve caressed your cheek, before his lips connected with yours, and you both hummed contently, being able to feel the other one after such a long time.
“I’m alright, Y/N. I’m here with you, and I’m alright. I’ve had worse, you know? All I need is to lay in bed for the next few days with my woman without giving a damn about the rest of the world,” Steve husked against your lips, and you smiled at him before you pecked his lips and squirted the shampoo into your hand.
“I know. I’ll be quick, I promise. Just let me clean you up,” you whispered before you brought your hand to his hair and applied the shampoo on his head, massaging his scalp thoroughly, revelling at the sounds leaving Steve’s mouth.
When you were ready with his hair, you moved to his body, gently kneading out the knots in his shoulders, ruffling the hair on his chest, and gently tapping your fingertips along the newly formed scars. Steve let you do your thing, knowing that there was no avail in fighting you. You hated to see him like that, and that’s why he hoped you’d be already asleep when he came back.
But at the back of his mind, he was thankful you were up. He needed to feel your skin against his, he needed to hear your voice to bring him back to Earth. Natasha has tried to tell him that none of what happened was his fault, but he still couldn’t help and blamed himself. He wanted to tell you all about the mission, just to calm his own mind, because you always had this effect on him. And just feeling your careful fingers sliding across his skin made him feel 10000 times better than he did in the quinjet a few minutes ago.
When he felt that you were happy with the cleaning, he reached the tap and stopped the water, before he pulled you out of the shower, kissing you fiercely. No matter how tired he was, he needed to feel you. All of you.
And because you knew him like the back of your hand, you let him pull you towards the clean sheets of your bed, and let him take whatever he needed from you. Because as much as he needed you, you needed him as well.
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553 notes · View notes
ghost-kitty · 4 years
Note
I think LawLu bites/bruises sounds good. (Pssst go for the inner thighs. With thigh high socks~ wink )
NOX! I’m so happy that I could finish your prompt right on time for your birthday <3 I wish you all the best and hope that you enjoy it. Thanks for being the best senchou-san!!!
NS.FW under the cut:
Luffy was never one to hide his blemishes and imperfections. Not that he could either with a scar sitting right underneath his eye. But even the much bigger one on his chest he wears with pride; shirt unbuttoned and displaying the X-shaped scar more often than not.
It reminds him that he is still here, still alive, after the accident two years ago almost cost him his life at a way too young age.
Some people may find it ugly, others think it looks cool. Many look at him with pity in their eyes. Their looks never bothered Luffy though, it's just that he doesn't really get it. What's there to pity when he is still alive and enjoying every second of it?
But it's okay. They don't get it. They don't know. 
Because it's more than just a reminder of what he could have lost; it's a mark. One that he wears with pride. 
Law's mark.
On that day two years ago Law saved his life and marked him as his in return. It was the first of many more to come.
Sadly the other marks fade eventually. From a deep purple to a pale yellowish colour, until there's no trace left on his sun-kissed skin anymore. 
He wears those with pride too.
Every time after they faded away completely, Law is all too happy to give him new ones. Uses Luffy's body as a canvas, makes him the muse to his inner artist.
And Luffy? Luffy loves every second of it.
He gets funny looks from people, sure, and he doesn't blame them either. What they see are hand-shaped bruises on his throat, wondering how they ended up on a young man like him. He lets them stare, lets them judge him. What they don't see, though, is how good it feels to have Law's big, tattooed hands on him; choking him lightly while his mouth is busy with leaving hickeys all over his chest and collarbones...
"Luffy."
Law's deep, husky voice snaps him out of his thoughts.
"Where are you right now Darling?"
The smirk he's sporting on his lips never fails to send shivers down Luffy's spine. Especially when he looks at him with his intense golden eyes, staring right into his soul.
His cheeks heat up and he averts his gaze. "...just thinking about how much I love this, 's all…"
Law chuckles. He bites the skin just short above the younger’s belly button, making him moan from the pleasurable pain. The lewd sounds espace his lips against his will, he can’t help it, not when his boyfriend makes him feel so good. "Baby," he says and licks the offended flesh, "you should focus on me."
His tattooed hands wander down from his hips to his clad legs, feeling up the soft fabric of the thigh highs Luffy's wearing. At the gentle touch, the teen feels his erection twitch in his panties. His pre-cum already made a mess out of the expensive lingerie but neither of them really care about that.
With a pat on the bare skin that isn't covered by the thigh highs, Law sits up to kneel comfortably between the younger's spread legs. Licking his lips he stares down at his prey. "Now… what to do with you," he muses.
His voice is thick with lust, and Luffy can't take it any longer. He needs Law. Needs him now!
"Please," he begs weakly. "Law please…"
Law shoots him a lopsided smile and leans down to press a soft kiss on his lips. Luffy easily parts them, allowing Law to lick into his mouth. The kiss that started gentle and sweet, turns into a heated one soon. Tongues dance around each other and the older's hand start wandering down Luffy's body until he has his ass in a firm grip. With a lustful moan, Luffy breaks the kiss when he feels the older give the plump butt a light squeeze.
"Mhh Baby, I want to make you feel good."
Luffy almost bursts from anticipation, knowing damn well that Law always keeps his promises. One last tender kiss on his lips and then Law begins to move down to his neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin until he's positive that there soon will be a fresh mark; all while he has a firm grip on his waist. Luffy already knows that there will be bruises in the morning too. The thought alone almost pushes him over the edge.
Not yet, he has to remind himself. Law is far from done with him.
His hips buck up unintentionally when the older man leaves feather-light, open-mouthed kisses all over his belly. He caresses Luffy's hard abs with his tongue, biting down roughly once in a while.
All Luffy can do is hold on to Law's broad shoulders and moan in pleasure as his boyfriend worships his body. 
Finally, after all the teasing, he feels Law's mouth where he desires him the most. He licks Luffy's cock through the lace, sucks on the swollen head, making him see stars from all the thrills rushing through his body.
"Please...” He can feel Law’s smirk against his thigh, satisfied with his boyfriend’s sweet begging.
"You're always so impatient my love…"
Despite the teasing tone in his voice, Law has mercy with him: he pulls the panties down a bit, just enough to finally free his throbbing cock from the tight lace panties, and takes the tip between his lips. Luffy's back arches from the bed as the pleasure washes over him and soon their bedroom is filled with his whines and cries of lust.
He bobs his head up and down at a steady pace, easily swallowing down all of Luffy's length. Fuck, Law really knows what he's doing and with all the teasing from before it doesn't take Luffy long to reach his limit. Just as he's about to cum, the warm wetness disappears from around his cock; leaving behind a confused and heavily panting Luffy, irritated from being robbed of his orgasm.
The damn bastard!
"Torao," he mewls his protest. "You're so mean! Please, I want to cum!"
Law's answer comes in the form of a grin that's downright sadistic. 
"Good things come to those who wait, Darling."
Okay, now he's just fucking with him. 
Though, Luffy should know by now that Law is right. He always is.
So when Law sinks his teeth into the smooth skin of his inner thigh and Luffy's vision turns black from the intense pleasure, all protest dies right on the tip of his tongue. Using his tattooed hands to push the younger's legs further apart, Law ravishes the sensitive area with his lips, tongue, and teeth; only satisfied when there are more red marks than tan skin.
Humming happily, he sits up again to adore the artwork he just created. "So pretty," he mutters under his breath, looking way too smug and proud of himself.
"God, Law, please…!"
"You want to cum?"
"Please!"
He grabs Luffy's thighs then and throws them over his shoulders. After peppering a few kisses onto the soft fabric, he takes his own erection in his hand. Letting out a sigh as he strokes his neglected cock a few times before guiding it to Luffy's waiting entrance, wet and open from Law's finger already. Eager to finally take his big cock.
With his thumb he moves the panties to the side and nudges Luffy's needy hole with his tip. Both grunt loudly when Law finally enters him, his dick splitting him open. Big and hot and so, so good! 
With how pent up they both are, neither of them will last long. That's okay though, they still have the whole night to make love until their bodies can't take it anymore.
Law thrusts into him hard and fast, just like Luffy wants him to. He muffles his cries by crashing their lips together for a hot kiss, never stopping the movements of his hips as he keeps ruthlessly pounding him into the mattress.
He takes a fistful of the teen's black locks and roughly pulls his head back, exposing his neck to him. Wasting no time, he nibbles at the already abused flesh. Luffy encourages him with moans, urging him on to suck and bite, wanting Law to leave even more hickeys. The tattooed man gladly complies and picks up the pace of his thrusts, hitting the sweet spot inside of him dead on with every snap of his hips.
They're both close.
Luffy can tell from how frantic the thrusts get and he himself clenches around Law, making him grunt against his neck. His nails dig deep into the older's back, desperate to keep him close. To feel his warm, sweaty skin against his body. He scratches his inked back; enjoys the groans he gets from Law. Like Luffy, he too, will wear marks for the next few days. 
It's driving him crazy.
"Law!"
He screams his lover's name as he cums and Law follows right after him, filling him up to the brim with his warm seed.
Lying in each other's arms, they slowly come down from their high; basking in the afterglow of amazing sex. Luffy snuggles closer and kisses his boyfriend lazily, both still trying to catch their breath.
They grin at each other, happy and satisfied and Luffy falls in love all over again. He's sure Law feels the same.
"You know," the older says eventually after they calmed down a bit, "there is still too much untouched skin here." Gently, Law brushes his thumb over the hickeys on his neck.
Luffy grins.
"We should change that then."
He really can't wait to show off all his new marks...
52 notes · View notes
babysizedfics · 4 years
Text
Little Accidents, Big Developments
Chapter 1: A Colourful Afternoon
[This is an age regression story]
The sides have successfully integrated Virgil's regression and Roman's age dreaming into their dynamic, and everyone seems happier for it. Though, Virgil's willingness to trust the others is tested when a long-term problem starts to present itself around his family; his regression leaves him susceptible to wetting himself.
Caregivers Patton and Logan try to help him navigate this issue all while navigating their own newly-discovered romantic feelings for each other.
Sibling spats, covert kissing sessions, and baby babbles lie herein.
Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus
Read on AO3 or below the cut!
Chapter Summary:
Roman tries to look after his baby brother, Logan learns to let loose a little, Virgil is nervous to be left on his own, and Patton can’t take much more of this adorableness without screeching.
Chapter word count: 9,000
oOo
It was late afternoon in the mindscape and the house had been moderately quiet. There was the faint clattering of pans as Patton cooked in the kitchen, the soft scratching of Virgil’s crayons, and Logan’s quiet snores coming from the couch. They had been the only sounds cutting through the lazy atmosphere, up until Roman started playing with his Disney figurines. The silly voices and impromptu solos he made the characters perform interrupted the calm, though it was such a common sound in the house that no one seemed to notice the change.
  Virgil had regressed a few hours earlier and, as usual, Roman’s littlespace quickly followed. There were a variety of reasons Virgil’s regression often inspired Roman to trigger his age dreaming; seeing Virgil act so young sparked the craving for Roman himself to let go of adult responsibilities, plus seeing Virgil’s various baby items such as his plushes and soft clothes made Roman miss his own little items - especially his toys. Also (and probably most of all), the care and affection that Patton and Logan bestowed upon a regressed Virgil did admittedly make Roman jealous. But he had learned that if he only asked for it, he was given the same level of attention, so it no longer upset him as it had previously. Instead of getting angry like he used to, he knew he could just fall into his own littlespace and he and Virgil could both be taken care of without any arguments. Though that afternoon, not much attention was being given to either of them.
  Patton had tasked Logan with caregiving duties when he left to make dinner. While the logical side had taken to his caregiving headspace much more readily in the recent weeks, the lull of the afternoon had apparently made him lethargic and he had fallen asleep not long after.
  Roman didn’t mind, though. As Virgil’s big brother, that meant that while the caregivers were not in the room (or were unconscious) it was Roman who was in charge! He hadn’t taken to caregiving, and he had no desire to, but he felt a childish giddiness at being given the role of a protector. Even if it was unintentionally handed to him by Logan falling asleep.
  But Roman was quickly realising it was a lot harder to look after Virgil than their caregivers made it look.
  The littles had both been preoccupied when Patton left, Virgil colouring a picture and Roman playing with his toys. Though, being much more observant and aware in his littlespace than Virgil was, Roman did notice when Patton left. He had tiptoed out quietly, leaving the distracted Virgil unaware of his departure.
  Roman knew this was because of how clingy Virgil had become. Ever since they integrated his regression into the family dynamic, Virgil could hardly bear to be away from his Papa’s side for a minute. Logan had said it was something called ‘separation anxiety’ and that it was common for young children. Whatever it was called, Roman still didn’t see why it was worth crying every time their dad left the room. It wasn’t like he went far.
  As expected, when Virgil finished his drawing and held it up to where Patton had been sitting, he stiffened on seeing the empty armchair. Roman looked up at the movement and felt his stomach drop when he saw Virgil’s eyes tear up.
  He didn’t like it when Virgil cried, partly because it meant he stole all of their caregivers' attention, but mostly because it made Roman’s tummy flip and his throat get all cloggy when he saw his little brother upset. He didn’t like it.
  ‘It’s okay, Vee,’ Roman said. He dropped his toys and quickly shuffled closer to Virgil on the carpet. Their caregivers had said Virgil needed to be close to someone if he was sad because it helped him feel safer. ‘What’s the matter?’
  Virgil’s fingers flew up to tug nervously at the handle of the pacifier that sat in his mouth. His eyes frantically searched around the room.
  ‘Dad went to make dinner,’ Roman explained. ‘Look, Mom’s still here,’ he pointed at Logan who let out a timely snore.
  ‘Theep,’ Virgil lisped through his pacifier, sounding upset.
  ‘Yeah, he’s asleep,’ Roman said, 'but I'm here too.'
  The worry stayed on Virgil’s face, and Roman was about to speak again but fell silent when his hand was suddenly covered by something soft and warm. Roman’s gaze fell down to see that Virgil was holding his hand tightly. When he looked back up, Virgil refused to meet his eyes.
  Pride surged through Roman. His little brother wanted comfort and was relying on him! He puffed out his chest to look important and tried to think of a way he could help Virgil feel better. He would prove he was just as smart and kind as their caregivers, and then Virgil would love him just as much.
  ‘Don’t be scared, baby,’ Roman said then twisted his hand around so that he could grip Virgil’s hand back in reassurance. ‘Do you wanna do another colouring?’
  A small whimper escaped Virgil as his hand clasped tighter around Roman’s.
  ‘You wanna stay with me?’ Roman asked and Virgil nodded slightly. ‘Then let’s do a colouring together. We can show Mom when he wakes up and then Dad and they’ll be really happy we played nice together!’
  Virgil perked up at the suggestion and Roman was happy to see he didn’t look close to tears anymore. Roman had helped Virgil to stop being scared and came up with a really good way to play together; he was the best big brother ever!
  He summoned a large piece of paper, an assortment of coloured markers, and a black fineliner. With the fineliner, he started drawing a complex lined image of an overgrown bush full of leaves and flowers of various shapes. Virgil did not let go of his hand throughout the few minutes it took to finish and Roman was glad his dominant left hand was the one left free to draw.
  When it was done, he tipped the coloured pens out of their case and they tumbled unceremoniously onto the floor.
  ‘You can start colouring that side and I’ll do this side,’ Roman directed, then grabbed a red marker and began adding colour to a rose.
  He stopped after a few moments when he realised Virgil hadn’t moved. He looked up with a frown and saw a hesitance in Virgil’s eyes.
  ‘C’mon, you know how to colour,’ Roman whined in complaint.
  Roman thought he had made Virgil feel happy, but now he was just being a scared baby again. And Roman didn’t even know why! He wasn’t good at knowing what was wrong with Virgil, their caregivers were supposed to do that. A faint frustration bubbled in his chest, but he knew to keep it there and not snap at Virgil. That was when things got really frustrating because when Roman yelled, Virgil would cry then Patton got worried and Logan told Roman off for being mean.
  ‘Why’re you scared?’ Roman asked. Then a thought came to him and he pouted. ‘Do you not like my picture?’
  Virgil’s eyes widened and he shook his head. Roman breathed a sigh of relief.
  ‘Then what? You don’t like using pens? You dunno what colour to use?’ At the last question, Virgil’s hand squeezed and he nodded.
  ‘That’s silly,’ Roman giggled. Why was Virgil scared about something like that? ‘You can use whatever colour you want.’
  ‘Bu’ it yours,’ Virgil mumbled, the pacifier garbling his words.
  ‘Nu-uh,’ Roman shook his head, ‘I made it for both of us. And it’s boring if I choose all the colours, anyway,’ he shrugged then went back to colouring.
  After a few seconds, Virgil slowly picked up a purple marker and Roman smiled at him to show that it was good. They coloured together in silence, their hands still joined between them.
  A couple of minutes passed before Roman heard a gasp and looked over to see that Virgil’s pen marks had slipped outside of the lines. It wasn’t surprising; Virgil could never stay inside the lines when he coloured. When he first saw the messy work in Virgil’s colouring book, Roman teased him about it but then Virgil got sad and Patton had explained it was because Virgil regresses so young. Roman pointed out that Virgil was also using his wrong hand to colour because he was usually left-handed but Logan told him not to draw attention to it. So Roman apologised and Virgil was never worried about his messy colouring after that.
  But for some reason this time Virgil looked like he’d committed an unforgivable crime. His eyes were wide and he had quickly dropped the pen to hide his hands in his sleeves.
  ‘That looks cool!’ Roman said quickly. He really didn’t want Virgil to start crying again.
  Virgil looked like he was scared of him and it made Roman sad. How come Virgil didn’t believe him? He remembered Logan saying something about showing instead of just telling when you’re trying to get someone to understand you, so Roman decided he should show Virgil that colouring outside the lines was okay.
  He stabbed his own pen onto the page and purposefully scribbled over the lines. He looked over at Virgil and saw the younger boy look cautiously from the page to Roman.
  ‘It’s more fun like this,’ Roman assured him. Then he grabbed a different coloured pen and started drawing swirling shapes outside of the lines. It wasn’t a lie - this was way more exciting than trying to be careful with the colours!
  Virgil made a noise of understanding then picked up his purple pen and started scribbling randomly too. Soon they were filling the page with a rainbow of colours and shapes and made a silent game of trying to fill up their side of the page faster than the other. The room gradually filled with their growing laughter.
  oOo
  Logan awoke to the joyful sound of childish giggles.
  In any other situation, it would have irritated him to be jolted out of sleep by someone else’s loudness. He heavily relied upon his body to wake him at the perfect stage of his sleep cycle to avoid any grogginess. Logan had made it very clear to the rest of the household a long time ago that they should not wake him unnaturally unless in emergencies. The others certainly didn’t seem to appreciate it on the rare occasion when Logan’s sleep cycle was interrupted and he had been far more impatient than usual.
  Though this time Logan did not mind. Blinking his eyes open to see Roman and Virgil laughing together, joined at the hand and smiling brightly immediately dispelled any of Logan’s unsavoury feelings at being woken up. Though realising that he had fallen asleep while he was meant to be looking after the littles did cause him some guilt.
  ‘I apologise for falling asleep,’ Logan said, readjusting his glasses. ‘Have you two been alright?’
  The two looked up at him excitedly.
  ‘Mom, I looked after Vee while you were asleep!’ Roman cried triumphantly.
  ‘Thank you, Roman,’ Logan said, ‘it appears you did a wonderful job.’ Both caregivers had realised Roman required a lot of positive reinforcement when he was little, so Logan always made a conscious effort to praise him.
  ‘Yeah, I did,’ Roman agreed with a big smile.
  Virgil released Roman’s hand and stretched his arms out to Logan wordlessly as if he could somehow make them span the length of the living room floor. Logan immediately got up and walked over, settling to kneel on the carpet between both boys.
  ‘Have you been having fun with your big brother?’ Logan asked as he wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil hummed in confirmation and leaned against Logan’s side.
  ‘Do you like our colouring?’ Roman asked, tugging on Logan’s other arm harshly.
  ‘There is no need to pull, Roman. Just asking will do,’ Logan reprimanded gently, then looked down at the large piece of paper (A2 size, he noted) in front of him.
  The page was decorated in an intricate, hand-drawn floral design, though the colours did not necessarily reflect the image. There were polka dots and spirals and scribbles and doodles of all different hues decorating the edges of the paper, with the middle of it still uncoloured. It was abstract and so something Logan would never normally have seen the point in. Though, he had to admit the disregard for conventionality was rather creative. And the smiles on Roman and Virgil’s faces were enough to convince Logan of the benefits of it.
  ‘It is rather colourful,’ he said. His neutral response appeared to disappoint Roman, so Logan promptly added, ‘and beautiful.’
  ‘Thanks, Mom!’ Roman said with a bright smile. ‘This is my side, and that one’s Vee’s,’ he indicated them with his pointer finger.
  Logan looked at it more carefully, noticing the contrast between each side of the page. Roman’s colours were much more varied, seemingly using every colour available, and created elegant swirling patterns and smooth gradients. Not a single part of his side was left blank. Virgil’s side was much messier, with less variation in colours - he had used purples and blues mainly with some occasional hints of red. His pen marks were erratic and there were large streaks of white showing through the ink. His colouring was visibly less thought-out than Roman’s, appearing to be far more based on whimsy rather than aesthetics.
  A quiet whimper sounded beside him and then Virgil’s face was pressed into his shoulder. Logan realised his quiet deliberation must have made him anxious.
  ‘The sides are both very different,’ he confirmed, ‘just as you two are very different.’ Virgil’s face pushed further against him. ‘Though they are both equally beautiful.’
  He did not have much time to enjoy the look of surprise and delight on Virgil’s face before Roman was jostling his shoulder for attention again.
  ‘It was my idea!’ he proclaimed. Logan turned his head to him with an exaggerated look of surprise.
  ‘It was?’ he gasped.
  ‘Mhm,’ Roman nodded fervently. ‘Vee was nearly crying, so I said we should colour together to make him feel better.’
  Logan smiled encouragingly, though tightened his hold around Virgil as he felt the younger side tense. Roman was not exactly delicate when mentioning Virgil’s tears. Still, he did not mean any harm and so there wasn’t much to be done about it.
  ‘That was very considerate of you,’ Logan said. ‘Your dad will be glad to hear it as well.’
  Roman nodded to himself then jumped back into colouring with rekindled fervour.
  Logan took the opportunity to give Virgil his undivided attention. It was a rare moment when Roman was occupied enough to not demand it for himself.
  ‘How are you feeling, Virgil?’ Logan asked, squeezing his shoulder lightly.
  Virgil did not offer a response but looked up at Logan expectedly. He was evidently not very verbal at that moment.
  ‘Do you need anything?’ Logan asked instead, hoping the more direct question would encourage him to communicate.
  ‘Papa,’ Virgil whispered as soon as Logan finished speaking, the word muffled by his pacifier.
  A sharp, unpleasant feeling spiked Logan’s stomach but he chose to ignore it.
  ‘Shall we go and show Papa the colouring?’ Logan asked.
  ‘No, it’s not finished yet!’ Roman interrupted.
  Logan sighed quietly then turned to see Roman’s pouting face.
  ‘I believe dinner is almost ready,’ Logan said, going off of the appetising smells that filled the house. ‘And this is a rather large drawing. You may not have time to complete it before your dad sees it.’
  ‘He can’t see it yet,’ Roman mumbled grumpily. He started colouring again, though this time he was pressing the marker so hard against the paper it made a squeaking sound.
  Logan wanted to respond to Roman’s tantrum but felt a gentle tug on his opposite sleeve. He twisted his body to see Virgil shyly holding a marker up to him.
  ‘For me?’ Logan asked redundantly, taking the pen.
  Virgil pointed at the colouring page, his eyes pleading with Logan.
  ‘Oh, I see,’ Logan said. He considered for a moment then conceded, ‘I suppose I can help.’
  Virgil smiled then picked up a pink marker and started scribbling.
  Logan popped the cap off of his own pen and started to draw a simple square on the page. As the minutes ticked by, he experimented with various shapes and marks, though eventually settled on writing numbers chronologically. It was calming, and the boys didn’t seem to mind the difference, instead seeming pleased by the wild variation of work on the page.
  It did not take long for the page to fill up, and by the time Logan was reaching the 130s their pens were crowding in on each other, fighting over the last few square inches of white paper. 
  Suddenly, there was a cold, wet swipe on Logan’s hand. With a slight delay, they all realised Virgil had mistakenly drawn over Logan’s hand rather than the paper. The pink pen clattered to the floor as Virgil recoiled from Logan, looking at him anxiously.
  ‘It’s alright, Virgil,’ Logan hastened to reassure him. ‘It’s only a bit of ink. No cause for worry.’
  A mischievous giggle sounded from his other side and another cold tip tickled across his skin, this time on his forearm.
  Logan looked over in surprise to see a red crown drawn on his arm. His gaze flitted up to Roman’s challenging smirk. If Roman were an adult at that moment, Logan might have accepted the challenge, but this was a child he was dealing with. He could contain his competitive nature if only to prove he would not sink to such silliness.
  ‘Highly amusing,’ Logan said, trying to get the right balance of playfulness and sternness in his tone, ‘but we should probably stick to drawing on the -’
  He was silenced by a quiet giggle and yet another tickle on his opposite forearm. Virgil was scribbling on his arm happily now. Before Logan could close his gaping mouth, Roman was laughing boisterously and drawing on his arm again.
  Logan’s gaze darted between the two impish boys helplessly for a few seconds. Then he raised his pen and said very seriously:
  ‘You both have made a grave mistake.’
  oOo
  Patton lifted the wooden spoon to his lips to taste his sauce and smiled at the burst of flavour. Perfect.
  He dropped the spoon to the counter and turned off the stovetop. After closing the lid on the saucepan to keep it warm, he checked on the vegetables in the oven. Just a few more minutes and they would be done. Perhaps he could risk just a little bit of playtime with his boys while he waited. He rinsed his hands in the sink then started making his way to the living room, excited to see his family again even if he had only been gone for half an hour.
  As he traipsed through the hallway, echoes of laughter became audible and grew louder with every step. Once Patton reached the closed living room door, he almost had to cover his ears from the squeals and joyous shouts that came from inside. He eased the door open silently, not wanting to disturb the fun before he got a chance to observe what exactly had them all so hysterical.
  As soon as he poked his head around the door, a wide smile stretched his lips.
  Heaped onto the carpet were three writhing bodies; Logan was at the bottom of the pile, his back propped against the front of the couch and his legs splayed out on the floor. They were trying to buck off Roman, who sat on Logan's knees and scribbled a pen over his shins, exposed by his rolled-up pant legs. Then there was Virgil, laid across Logan’s lap and wriggling around as Logan bunched up his sweater and scribbled a pen over his tummy. Virgil was doing his best to retaliate by drawing on Logan’s rosy cheeks, but he was flailing so much from the ticklish scribbling that he could not do much besides giggle and squirm. They were all laughing uncontrollably, gasping for breath as they wrestled playfully with one another.
  Patton could hardly believe his eyes and hurriedly took out his phone to snap some pictures so that he would have proof later. The others were so absorbed in their play-fight that they did not notice his presence until Patton put his phone away and finally allowed himself to burst into goofy chuckles along with them.
  They slowly seemed to notice the extra set of laughter and ceased their attacks to look over at him. Roman was beaming, appearing delighted that Patton had joined them. Virgil looked shy and curled close to Logan in search of comfort, though Patton could see his dimples and knew he was still smiling behind his pacifier. Logan had completely frozen, his smile dropping from his face within seconds and looking like a deer caught in headlights.
  The logical side was so stunned that he startled when Virgil drew a heart on his cheek, evidently taking advantage of Logan’s obliviousness. The sensation shook Logan from his stupor and he looked down at the little in his arms and offered a playful mock glare. When Virgil giggled in response, Logan finally looked back to Patton.
  ‘They started it,’ he stated very seriously, contrasting the flush on his face.
  Roman made a noise of offence and immediately started scribbling on Logan’s leg again. The logical side seemed uncomfortable to continue with Patton in the room, though.
  ‘That is enough now,’ Logan said. ‘I believe it must be dinnertime given your Dad’s appearance.’ Logan looked up at Patton almost pleadingly and Patton gave him the benefit of the doubt.
  ‘He’s right, kiddos, time to wash up before dinner!' Patton instructed the children.
  Roman groaned loudly and collapsed on the floor by Logan's legs, his prolonged whine becoming muffled by the carpet. Virgil was far more cooperative and held his hands up for Patton to lift him. 
  Patton complied happily, grasping his arms and hoisting Virgil up to stand. As soon as he was upright, Patton pressed a kiss to his nose. The shorter side made a small sound of surprise.
  Logan stood soon after, brushing off wrinkles from his pants. Roman still lay face-down on the floor.
  'Come on, little prince,' Patton said. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’
  'No,' Roman said stubbornly.
  'Playtime is over, Roman, it's dinnertime now,' Logan stated.
  'I don't need dinner!'
  ‘Falsehood.’
  'Oh well, I guess Roman won't be coming,' Patton said loudly. Virgil made a noise of worry but Patton stroked his hair gently and winked over at Logan’s concerned look. 'It's a shame... I need a big boy who will help my baby wash his hands. Guess I'll just have to find another brave, handsome prince to help.'
  Roman leapt up so fast Patton worried he would collapse from head-rush.
  'I can do it, Dad!' he volunteered enthusiastically.
  'Oh, thank you, sweetheart!' Patton grinned. He looked to Logan then nodded at Roman pointedly. The logical side nodded, getting the hint.
  'Very chivalrous of you, Roman,' Logan praised.
  Roman preened at the attention then reached out his hand to Virgil with a bow.
  'I shall protect you with my life, young one.' 
  Virgil slowly reached out and held onto Roman's offered hand but looked up at Patton nervously.
  ‘I’m going to be right behind you, sweetie,’ Patton said. ‘I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.’
  Virgil nodded and, led by Roman, the two toddled into the hallway.
  As Logan tried to make his way past him to leave the room, Patton couldn’t help himself from giggling.
  'So... They started it, huh?' Patton asked.
  Logan paused in his path and fidgeted with his tie, straightening it where it had been misplaced by their play-fight.
  ‘Yes, well,’ he cleared his throat, ‘childish behaviour is to be expected of them.’
  ‘And it’s fun to join in,’ Patton added with a knowing smile. ‘Just because we’re the grown-ups doesn’t mean we can’t be playful too, Logan. I’m glad you’re having fun with them.’
  Logan blushed though Patton saw a smile work its way onto his lips.
  ‘It is… invigorating,’ Logan said monotonously, then added with a concealed chuckle, ‘and they are quite endearing.’
  ‘Aren’t they?’ Patton agreed enthusiastically. He desperately wanted to add that Logan too was endearing in his own right, but something stopped him. Not because he didn’t truly believe it, but because he was frightened of Logan realising just how sincere the thought was.
  Logan’s mouth opened and closed in quick succession. Then he seemed to abandon his train of thought with a shy smile. It made Patton feel dizzy.
  ‘Dinner?’
  ‘Oh, right,’ Patton shook his head lightly. ‘Forgot,’ he breathed through an awkward laugh.
  Patton turned and made his way through the hallway in the direction of the kitchen with Logan close behind. He had a sudden thought, pausing by the bathroom door and gesturing for Logan to go through to the kitchen without him. 
  As he stood outside the bathroom he heard Roman explaining to Virgil that he had to wait for the water to get warm but not too hot and that he would check it for him so the baby doesn't hurt himself. Patton's heart swelled. He wondered when Roman had gotten so protective of Virgil, but didn’t care to question it at all. It was positively adorable.
  He knocked on the bathroom door then eased it open when Roman called him in.
  Roman's hand was stuck under the running tap, his t-shirt getting splashed slightly in the process. Virgil waited patiently behind him, still clutching onto his other hand.
  ‘Sweethearts, can you please use the potty before dinner too?’ Patton asked. ‘You both haven't been since you were big.'
  'Okay, Dad,' Roman shrugged. 
  'Good boys,' Patton smiled then left for the kitchen.
  Just as he and Logan served up the dishes, Roman and Virgil rushed into the kitchen. Well, Roman rushed in, Virgil was dragged behind him quite clumsily. Patton instantly noted the tension in the younger side’s shoulders.
  'Are you alright, Vee?' Patton frowned.
  ‘He was too embarrassed to go potty,' Roman said, pointing at him.
  Virgil's cheeks flushed and he ducked his head.
  ‘We don't point, Roman,’ Logan reprimanded.
  ‘Oh, sorry,’ Roman muttered, lowering his hand.
  'It’s alright, sweetie,' Patton said, then turned his attention to the anxious side. He moved over to rub gently at Virgil’s shoulders, willing him to relax them. 'You didn't wanna go with Roman in the room?'
  Virgil shook his head quickly.
  'Okay, can you go alone for me?'
  Virgil's head shook even faster.
  Patton frowned and looked up to Logan for help.
  'Virgil, can you tell us why you won’t go to the bathroom alone if not with Roman?' Logan asked calmly.
  Virgil just whimpered and buried his head against Patton's shoulder. Patton instinctively petted his hair in comfort.
  'Don't worry, baby. Come here,' Patton whispered.
  He led Virgil by the hand back to the bathroom, noting how Virgil’s grip tightened as they drew closer. They stopped in front of the door and Virgil ducked behind Patton as if hiding from it. Patton would have thought it cute if it weren’t concerning him.
  'Are you too scared to go in on your own?' he asked quietly, knowing Virgil would be more embarrassed if everyone could hear them.
  Virgil nodded against his back. Patton slowly turned so that he could see Virgil’s reaction, though made sure his body still blocked his view of the bathroom as Virgil wanted.
  'Okay, do you want Papa to come with you?'
  Virgil's cheeks turned pink and he shook his head.
  Patton felt lost on what to do but could see the whole ordeal was causing Virgil some distress, so he decided to drop it for now. If he needed the bathroom after dinner they could address the issue again. He probably just didn’t need it.
  ‘Alright, sweetheart, you don’t need to,’ Patton brushed his cheek lightly. ‘Shall we go have our dinner?’
  Virgil visibly perked up and nodded his agreement, so Patton led them back to the kitchen where Logan had laid everyone’s plates out.
  oOo
  Dinner passed by easily, with excited chatter about what they had been up to that afternoon - mostly with Roman speaking on both his and Virgil’s behalf.
  After they had eaten, Logan went to have a quick shower to wash off the pen ink and, after a lot of bargaining, Patton finally got the boys to agree they too would bathe, but later. Virgil was too young to bathe alone but also too self-conscious to let Patton bathe him. It was clear he wanted to wait until he was grown-up again, so Patton didn’t push the matter with him. The majority of his careful persuasion was directed at Roman, who did not have any issue with bathing alone (since he could come out of his littlespace voluntarily, unlike Virgil) but was simply stubborn. Eventually, he agreed to wash, though only if he could watch an episode of Steven Universe first. Patton didn’t necessarily mind the compromise.
  After Logan got back from his shower, Patton and the littles had already watched one episode of the cartoon. As soon as Logan had entered the living room, Roman darted off to take his shower at light speed. He hurried back within minutes, his hair dripping wet, not wanting to miss any more of the show. Patton chuckled to himself at Roman’s dishevelled appearance, his pyjamas ruffled having been shoved on in a hurry. He would never have let anyone see him like that if he were his usual adult self.
  Soon, all four of them were settled into the comfy atmosphere as the third episode started up. Patton and Logan both sat in the middle of the couch. There was barely any space between them, though they didn’t acknowledge it aloud. Meanwhile, Roman and Virgil sat cross-legged on the carpet gazing up at the screen.
  They seemed to be enjoying the show far more in their younger mindsets: Roman was bouncing lightly and reciting lines along with the characters animatedly. Virgil was much more subdued, though Patton noticed he had been swaying gently from side to side for the past couple of episodes. He was sure it was a sign Virgil was relaxed and enjoying the cartoon.
  Patton slowly began to feel the exhaustion seep into his body, suddenly aware of the fact that he hadn’t had much opportunity to relax that day. He truly didn’t mind that Roman and Virgil were somewhat demanding when little, he enjoyed being there for them. But his head felt heavy and, without a moment to reconsider, he let it drop gently to Logan’s shoulder.
  He waited with bated breath to see if Logan would protest but was pleasantly surprised when Logan’s arm very gently curled around his back. He smiled and tried not to squeak with the bubble of excitement in his chest.
  A few more minutes passed in peace, and Patton wasn’t sure when but his eyes had fallen shut. It was not often the house felt so tranquil.
  Then, out of nowhere, Virgil gasped. Patton’s eyes shot open to watch Virgil clumsily jump onto his feet and bolt out of the room without a word. His pacifier tumbled to the ground where he had been sitting just a second ago.
  The other three were shocked into silence for a moment.
  ‘Huh?’ Roman frowned back at his caregivers, his eyes noticeably settling on Patton and Logan’s cuddling. Patton unwrapped himself from Logan with a faint blush, though any embarrassment was far overwhelmed by concern for Virgil.
  ‘Was there a monster on the show?’ Patton asked.
  ‘Not at all,’ Logan said, sounding just as bewildered as the other two.
  ‘I’m going to check on him,’ Patton said as he jumped up and followed after the younger side without hesitation.
  He jogged along the hallway with a heavy feeling in his chest, mind racing with worry. The house suddenly felt bigger than usual. When he rounded a corner, his heart stuttered at what he saw.
  Virgil was facing away from him, doubled over in the middle of the hallway. From the back of him, it looked as if he was in pain and clutching his stomach.
  Patton rushed over to his side in panic.
  'Baby, are you okay? What’s -'
  He cut himself off when he realised what was happening. Virgil's eyes were wide with fear, his knees trembling, his hands covering his crotch. They failed to conceal the large wet patch that was quickly spreading on his jeans.
  'Oh, sweetheart,' Patton cooed sympathetically, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
  Virgil only just seemed to notice Patton's presence and he startled then quickly ducked his head in shame. His shoulders shook as a puddle gradually formed at his feet.
  'It's okay, baby,' Patton whispered, rubbing his hand over Virgil's back. He gently shushed Virgil’s sniffles for a few moments as the boy’s pants and socks quickly became sodden. When the puddle on the floor finally stopped spreading, only a couple of seconds passed before a hoarse sob bounced off the walls.
  ‘Honey, it’s alright, I promise,’ Patton desperately reassured him.
  He wrapped him in a tight hug and Virgil’s hands immediately clutched at the back of Patton’s shirt. The anxious sighed cried into his chest and the sound broke Patton’s heart.
  ‘It’s just an accident.’ He kissed Virgil’s head. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart.’
  Logan’s head suddenly popped around the corner a few feet away, clearly having heard some of the commotion. Patton watched silently as Logan’s eyes fell to the floor and the realisation quickly dawned on him. When he looked up from Virgil’s predicament with a concerned glance, Patton shook his head at him very lightly, not wanting Virgil to feel the movement. He didn’t want to see Virgil even more upset knowing that Logan had been witness to his accident too.
  ‘Mama is keeping Roman busy in the living room,’ Patton said over Virgil’s head with a pointed look at Logan, ‘and I’m gonna give you a warm bubble bath. Doesn’t that sound nice, baby?’
  Logan tiptoed back to the living room without a word.
  Unaware of Logan’s brief appearance, Virgil spluttered a little on his tears, the sound muffled against Patton’s shirt. It wasn’t an agreement, but it also wasn’t a denial so Patton took the small victory.
  He eased Virgil out of his hold, holding him at an arm’s length as he wiped away his tears. It was pointless, though, as they just continued to fall with Virgil’s shaky breaths. Patton wished he could hold his baby until he stopped crying but he didn’t want Virgil’s skin getting irritated by his wet clothes. Plus, he was sure the poor boy wouldn’t want to be stood in his accident for longer than necessary.
  ‘Let’s go get you cleaned up,’ Patton smiled softly at him.
  He wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulders to guide him towards the stairs, silently twirling his pointer finger behind his back. The carpet cleaned itself magically behind them.
  Once they had reached Virgil’s bedroom, Patton left Virgil standing by the door while he speedily picked out a pair of underwear and pyjamas for him. He heard Virgil’s soft whimpers and sniffles grow louder and more frequent when he stepped away from him, so he was sure to make quick work of it before his absence upset Virgil any more.
  He hurried back to Virgil’s side with the clothes and kissed his forehead tenderly.
  ‘Good boy, you’re so brave,’ Patton praised. He was forced off of Virgil by a firm head shake.
  ‘Bad,’ Virgil choked and hid his face in his hands.
  Patton’s heart ached.
  ‘You’re not bad, little one,’ he said, crouching slightly so they were level. ‘It’s not your fault. I should have gotten you to go to the toilet earlier. I’m sorry, baby.’
  Virgil shook his head again but didn’t offer any words. Patton assumed he had been pushed into a younger headspace and had gone non-verbal.
  He led Virgil to the upstairs bathroom slowly, being careful with each step and rubbing his back soothingly the whole time. When they had reached the door, Virgil’s posture suddenly righted itself and he looked at Patton through his bangs. The older side was shocked to see a strange, distant look in his mismatched eyes.
  ‘I’m, um,’ Virgil’s voice was still slightly babyish, though there was a forced deepness to it. He quickly cleared his throat and took a deep breath, completely avoiding Patton’s eyes. ‘I-I’m older now. I can do this on my own.’
  To say Patton was surprised would have been a severe understatement. Virgil never came out of his headspace so suddenly; even when he had made an effort to end his regression prematurely in the past, Virgil could pretend to be an adult all he wanted but it had been too clear that he was still mentally a child. Right now, he didn’t necessarily sound regressed but there was something wrong about it that Patton couldn’t quite pinpoint.
  ‘But - Kiddo, are you sure?’ Patton tried not to sound upset, though it was harder to keep the confusion from his voice. ‘You seem a bit off, Stormcloud.’
  ‘It’s Virgil,’ the anxious side grumbled, then grimaced at his tone. ‘I-I’m sorry, Papa… Patton . Thank you for helping, but…’ He held his arms out for his clothes, still looking at the floor. His hands were shaking.
  Patton wordlessly handed the pile of clothes over, not knowing what else to do. He watched dejectedly as Virgil rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut without another word. The lock clicked instantly and Patton took a deep breath before turning away.
  As the sound of water running started in the bathroom, Patton wandered through the hallway and into the living room, feeling disturbed by the interaction.
  ‘Patton, you can’t leave a toddler to bathe alone,’ Logan sounded mildly panicked.
  He was sitting on the couch with Roman on the headrest behind him, braiding his hair.
  ‘He’s not regressed anymore,’ Patton said. Logan looked just as shocked as Patton felt.
  ‘He’s… But that never happens,’ Logan said, frowning.
  Patton didn’t know what else to do except collapse wordlessly onto the couch beside him. He rested his head on Logan’s shoulder with a small sigh.
  It wasn’t that he loved Virgil any less when he was an adult - he loved all versions of Virgil equally - but it felt unnatural for the boy to switch between headspaces so suddenly. It must have had something to do with the accident, but if anything Patton would have expected it to push Virgil further into his regressed mindset, not tear him out of it.
  ‘Is Virgil okay?’ Roman questioned.
  ‘Of course!’ Patton said in his usual bubbly voice, not believing his own words. ‘He’s just showering. Don’t you worry, little prince.’
  ‘But I heard crying before. What happened?’ Roman shuffled down from the back of the couch, sitting on the armrest and frowning over at both of them. When neither caregiver responded, Roman sighed. ‘I’m a grown-up now, you can tell me.’
  ‘Uh,’ Patton stumbled, pushing his face further against Logan’s shoulder as if he could hide from the question.
  ‘Nothing for you to concern yourself with,’ Logan said easily.
  Roman huffed indignantly as he pushed himself off of the armrest and stomped across the room. He flopped into the armchair on the opposite side of the couch, pointedly facing away from Logan with his arms crossed. Patton couldn’t conceal his amused smile. Roman obviously wasn’t as grown-up as he claimed to be.
  ‘I care about him too,’ Roman mumbled. The pout in his voice was audible.
  ‘We know you do, kiddo,’ Patton reassured him. He felt guilty for making Roman upset, though he knew it was not a good idea to tell the creative side about what had happened. ‘You’re such a good big brother. It’s just… not polite for us to talk about Virgil without him knowing.’
  Roman turned his body to squint suspiciously at them. After a moment, he seemed satisfied and smiled.
  ‘Okay. Do you like Mom’s hair?’ he asked excitedly.
  Shaking off the brief shock from the sudden change in subject, Patton lifted his head from Logan’s shoulder to look at Roman’s handiwork. A braid circled the crown of Logan’s head, intertwined with a few daisies from the backyard.
  ‘Aww, how beautiful,’ Patton gushed.
  He raised his hand to stroke along the strands of hair, twirling some loose tendrils around his fingertips. He wanted to comment on how soft Logan’s hair was but paused when he saw Logan’s shoulders were tense.
  ‘S-sorry,’ he quickly dropped his hand. ‘Should’ve asked to -’
  ‘No! No, it’s,’ Logan cleared his throat. Patton swore he could see a faint pink dusting his cheekbones. Logan’s lips twitched into a small smile as he briefly met Patton’s eyes before looking away again. ‘It is… acceptable.’
  Patton dropped his head back to Logan’s shoulder, hiding his own blush. He didn’t miss the smug smirk on Roman’s face before he closed his eyes, pretending to take a nap.
  A few minutes passed by with only the sound of Steven Universe playing on the TV, supplemented by Roman singing along with a musical number. After the ending credits song, Patton heard the TV click off followed by Roman’s whining protest.
  ‘We can watch more tomorrow,’ Logan’s voice rumbled through his chest and Patton breathed deeply with the comfort of it. ‘It’s nine o’clock so that means no more screens.’
  ‘Fine,’ Roman sighed, but Patton knew he wasn’t nearly as put out as he was trying to sound. ‘Can we listen to a book?’
  Patton opened his eyes with a smile. It had become an almost nightly ritual for all members of the family to sit together and listen to an audiobook to wind down before bed.
  ‘Of course,’ Logan said. Patton loved the way Roman’s face brightened.
  ‘Yay! Ooh, can we have Paddington Bear? No, Winnie-the-Pooh! Oh, wait, wait, wait,’ Roman yelled, clearly getting bombarded by more ideas.
  ‘Hold on, kiddo,’ Patton laughed, ‘how about we ask Virgil to choose between those two? Then you both made the decision together.’
  ‘Yeah!’ Roman clapped his hands in excitement then something caught his eye outside the open door. ‘Virge, you’re back! You gotta help me pick a book!’
  Patton heard a shuffling outside the room and lifted his head from Logan’s shoulder so he could hear better.
  ‘Oh, really?’ Virgil’s voice sounded soft and wobbly. ‘Uh, a-actually I’m suddenly tired. So, I-I’m probably gonna…’
  ‘Oh,’ Roman’s face dropped and his eyes followed what Patton assumed was a retreating Virgil. Roman turned a sorrowful look back on his caregivers. ‘Did I say something wrong?’
  ‘I’m not sure,’ Patton said honestly, just as confused.
  He felt Logan nudge his shoulder and he looked to him in question.
  ‘I’ll talk to him,’ Logan said.
  ‘Thank you,’ Patton whispered and shifted to allow Logan to get up.
  Logan offered a firm nod then quickly rose to go and follow Virgil.
  Watching him leave the room, Patton sighed and hoped Logan would be able to figure out what was going on with Virgil better than he could. For now, Patton just focussed on getting that kicked puppy look off of Roman’s face.
  ‘How about we get some hot cocoa before your Mom can tell us off about it?’
  oOo
  Logan walked up to Virgil’s door and knocked gently.
  ‘Virgil? May I speak to you?’
  He spoke quieter than usual, certain that Virgil would likely be in a state of distress from the incident in the hallway. There was a moment of silence before he heard a reply.
  ‘Yeah, sure,’ Virgil called through the door. His voice was distinctly uneven.
  Logan heard a faint sniffling as he pushed the door open and was unsurprised to see Virgil sitting cross-legged on the floor in his softest pyjamas. Minty, his Triceratops plush, was clutched tightly to his chest. As Logan had theorised, Virgil did not look as grown-up as he had had Patton believe.
  Logan closed the door behind him gently and lowered himself to kneel on the carpet a few feet in front of Virgil. He thought it was best to leave some space between them so that Virgil did not feel threatened in any way.
  ‘Patton tells me you’re not regressed anymore,’ Logan said. His doubt must have been obvious in his tone because Virgil immediately bit his lip and looked down to his lap. ‘Is this true?’
  ‘Dunno,’ Virgil whispered into Minty’s green fur. His voice was minuscule and Logan sighed.
  ‘Is this because of your accident?’
  Virgil’s eyes went wide and welled up, his lip wobbling dangerously. It was all too obvious that he was in no position to have an adult conversation.
  ‘I don’t think you are grown-up, are you?’ Logan tutted gently. ‘How old are you right now, Virgil?’
  The anxious side’s face crumpled and he hid behind his toy with a whimper. Logan quickly moved to kneel beside him, knowing he needed physical comfort.
  ‘No one is upset with you, I promise,’ Logan said, keeping his tone soft and quiet so as not to overwhelm him. He placed a comforting hand on the side of Virgil’s head and the younger side immediately leaned into the touch. ‘I know you wouldn’t lie to your Papa on purpose. You were just a little confused earlier, weren’t you?’
  Virgil nodded into his toy.
  ‘Can you please tell Mama how old you are?’ Logan asked in his most baby-friendly voice.
  Virgil slowly dropped the soft toy, looking up at Logan hesitantly. Eventually, he held up two fingers.
  ‘Only two? That is quite young,’ Logan said. He smiled encouragingly at Virgil and was happy to see the worry fade away from his gaze. ‘Much too young to be on your own. Do you want to come to listen to a book with me, your Papa, and your big brother?’
  Virgil nodded and was millimetres away from sucking on his thumb before Logan quickly intercepted it.
  ‘Let’s get a pacifier for the baby,’ Logan said.
  He patted Virgil’s hand then reached for the soft toy by their legs. He located the zipper sewn into the dinosaur’s back and opened the hidden pocket that was filled with various pacifiers. He held it open in front of Virgil for him to pick, and after a few seconds of deliberation, Virgil pointed to one. Logan took it out and held it in front of him.
  ‘Can you tell Mama what colour this is, Vee?’ he asked.
  When Virgil was regressed, Logan liked to test him on simple questions such as this for several reasons: Firstly, it helped to establish a fun, educational atmosphere that Logan thought would be beneficial to his mental wellbeing. Secondly, it helped Logan to gather a clear idea of Virgil’s mental age at the time going by his speech and knowledge of certain things, proving beneficial to Logan’s understanding of Virgil’s regression. Lastly, it encouraged Virgil to communicate with him, which Logan hoped would be beneficial to their relationship.
  ‘Boo,’ Virgil muttered with a tiny smile.
  ‘That’s right, blue.’ Logan smiled back at him, knowing from experience it was an exercise in futility to try to correct his pronunciation.
  He popped the pacifier in Virgil’s mouth without any fuss, then placed Minty back on the floor gently.
  ‘Light blue is your Papa’s favourite colour,’ Logan said. ‘Shall we go and show it to him?’
  Virgil nodded and held onto Logan’s hand preemptively. Logan slowly rose from the floor and helped Virgil to do the same. He started to lead the way to the door but was stopped by Virgil tugging back on his hand and whining a little. Logan turned back in concern.
  ‘Is there a problem?’ he asked, then saw how Virgil’s gaze was fixed on the pile of stuffed animals on his bed. ‘Oh, I see,’ Logan said and walked them over to the heap of soft toys. ‘Can you choose a friend to come and listen to a book with us, Virgil?’
  Virgil reached for his black cat plush and held it to his face with a smile, stroking the fur against his cheek.
  ‘Glad you could join us, Jiji,’ Logan greeted the toy and smiled when Virgil gasped.
  Logan never made it obvious that he knew every single one of Virgil and Roman’s toys’ names. It amused him when they were shocked to hear him remember them so he kept up the pretence just to enjoy their endearing sounds of surprise.
  Logan led both Virgil and Jiji back to the living room with a light heart.
  ‘Look who’s back,’ Logan announced as they stepped into the room and saw Virgil blush at the attention, hiding his face against Logan’s arm.
  ‘Aw, yay!’ Patton smiled brightly. ‘I missed my baby.’
  Virgil looked up at Patton then pointed wordlessly to his pacifier. Logan saw a flash of confusion briefly cross Patton’s features.
  ‘Yes, that’s you,’ Patton said, obviously trying to guess at what Virgil was indicating.
  ‘Virgil picked his pacifier all by himself,’ Logan supplied with a surreptitious eyebrow raise. ‘Do you like the colour?’
  ‘Oh, yes!’ Patton said, suddenly understanding what Virgil had wanted to show him. ‘That’s my favourite colour, baby. It’s so pretty!’
  Logan felt Virgil fidget under the praise. He shared a fond, amused smile with Patton.
  ‘Vee, you gotta choose between the two bestest bears ever!’ Roman yelled, all but bouncing in his seat.
  ‘Yes…’ Logan said but frowned at the high energy in the boy. He had not been so excitable when Logan left, so the logical side grew suspicious of what had caused the change.
  Sure enough, his eyes landed on the chocolate coated rim of the Mickey Mouse mug in Roman’s hands. He gasped and shot a reprimanding look over to Patton. The moral side sunk into the couch looking as guilty as ever.
  ‘Patton, this is the time to wind down, not the time to consume sugar!’
  ‘But I made some for all of us, Lo,’ Patton countered. He indicated the coffee table where Logan’s NASA mug, Patton’s frog mug, and Virgil’s Jack Skellington mug all sat steaming, filling the air with the rich scent of chocolate. ‘Plus hot cocoa is technically warm milk, so it’s perfect for nighttime.’
  Logan felt his reserve breaking when he realised how considerate it was that Patton had made some for everyone, but he remained steely. That is until Patton added with a sly smile:
  ‘I added a shot of hazelnut syrup to your one.’
  Logan pretended to think it over for a few seconds.
  ‘Alright, I yield.’ He led Virgil over to the couch, encouraging him to sit beside Patton. ‘But Roman really should not be given dairy.’
  ‘Almond milk,’ Patton corrected with a victorious smile, accepting Virgil into his arms.
  ‘And Virgil is too young to drink from a mug,’ Logan added.
  ‘No prob, Bob,’ Roman cut in. He snapped his fingers and the Jack Skellington mug promptly transformed into a baby bottle.
  ‘Thank you, little prince,’ Logan said. He made sure to pay Roman due attention, knowing how important it was for Roman’s headspace to show that Virgil was not the only one who needed taking care of. ‘Where would you like me to sit?’
  Roman’s eyes widened, apparently delighted that he was given such an important decision.
  ‘Over there,’ Roman pointed to the corner of the couch furthest from Patton. ‘Then I’m gonna sit next to you and Vee!’
  Virgil hummed in content from his place beside Patton and nuzzled his face against his papa’s chest.
  ‘A very good choice,’ Logan said.
  Before sitting down he moved over to the coffee table. He handed Patton the baby bottle and moved the frog mug to the corner of the table so it was within Patton’s reach. He nodded when Patton thanked him and grabbed his own mug, moving back to the couch to settle in the corner seat. Roman had already made himself comfortable, his mug empty and abandoned on the floor.
  ‘What will it be, Virgil?’ Logan asked. ‘A marmalade-obsessed bear from Peru, or a honey-obsessed bear from England?’ He took a sip from his mug and struggled to contain a smile at the warmth that radiated through his chest.
  ‘Nunny,’ Virgil mumbled through his pacifier.
  Patton made an inhuman squeal of affection.
  ‘Honey,’ Logan echoed, unable to hide his smile now. It was undeniably adorable how Virgil’s speech was impeded by his regression. ‘Are we all ready for Winnie-the-Pooh?’
  At the two shouted confirmations from Patton and Roman, Logan pulled out his phone to set up the bluetooth speaker. Within moments Stephen Fry’s voice filled the room with tales from the Hundred Acre Wood.
  Roman clumsily wriggled his head under Logan’s arm to force it around his shoulders. Logan sniffed in amusement but acquiesced.
  ‘Do you want to hold the bottle yourself or do you want me to help you, sweetie?’ Logan heard Patton whispering during the introduction.
  He looked over just in time to see Virgil pull Jiji up to hide his face. Patton’s eyes lit up and he giggled quietly.
  ‘Don’t be shy, baby. Papa’s here to take care of you.’
  Patton gently took the pacifier from Virgil’s mouth and placed it on the armrest. Then he pulled Virgil onto his lap and held the bottle up to his lips. It was almost hypnotic seeing how quickly Virgil relaxed into Patton’s embrace, suckling rhythmically at the bottle. His eyes had fallen shut within seconds and a look of pure contentment settled over him.
  Roman laughed at a part in the story and Patton looked up at the cheerful sound. He caught Logan watching Virgil and they exchanged soft smiles before Logan looked away again. Roman’s head fell onto his shoulder and Logan closed his eyes in contentment. He leaned back against the headrest, letting the sounds of the room blend into one calming symphony; Virgil’s suckling, Patton’s cooing, Roman’s giggling, and the narration sending him into a blissful sleep.
oOo
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love-the-purple-cat · 3 years
Text
Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me - Chapter 1 Part 5
“Yer hair again?” She asks, idly kicking one of the men when they try to get up.
“Not quite. They got mad I beat up their men who made fun of my hair and decided that I needed to be taught a lesson.”
She snorts unattractively. “Do ya even like yer hair colour?”
Once again, Ichigo pauses in though. “...Why do you ask that?”
“Cause, no offence, but yer hair keeps gettin' ya inta trouble, and ya don’t even seem ta’ appreciate it. If it’s too much then just dye it sumthin' borin'.”
...It’s not that he hadn’t thought about it, it’s just that it was one of the few connections he had still with his mother. Dyeing it seemed like a betrayal, and felt like giving up and admitting defeat after fighting others about it for so long.
“Ah, that does sound like a good reason not ta' dye it,” She says when he unintentionally thinks aloud. “But yer missin' ma' point: Are ya happy wit' yer hair? The colour will still appear when ya grow it out, it’ll just be temporarily hidden.”
He lightly fingers a strand. It was getting longer.
“I'll think about it.”
She nods. Neither pleased nor displeased.
 ------------------------
“Come over this weekend.”
They are eating lunch in her classroom, in a way celebrating becoming friends after knowing each other for a month. Her classmates occasionally throw them looks that they ignore.
“Sure. What are we goin' ta' do?”
He thinks of the box of black hair dye that he got on his last shopping trip with Yuzu two days ago. Yuzu had looked at him questionably but hadn’t said a thing to their family. “I need help with my hair.”
Cherī raises a brow, not getting the hint.
“I’m...” He swallows, eyes flickering to the other people in the room. “I’m thinking of trying something new. That thing you talked about a few days ago.”
It takes a moment longer for her eyes to light up in recognition and understanding. “Sure, where will we meet up?”
The corner of his lip twitches up.
 ---------------------------
“Yer mom famous or sumthin'?”
He looks to where she is examining his mother’s poster. “No, my dad got it after she died.”
She appears to be contemplating something before looking away. “So, where’s yer bathroom? Ah’m not gonna lie, da dye will stain yer bathtub/tiles like a bitch when ya wash it out. Best ya put on some old clothes too.”
Ichigo nods and leads the way, feeling nervous and calm at the same time.
Cherī orders him to sit on the edge of the bath, or bring a chair but then there’s a chance that it would be stained so he doesn’t. She starts by brushing his hair and parting it before beginning. “Ya sure ‘bout this, Ichigo?”
“Yeah.” His tone is breathless, heart thumping hard in his ribcage and something is lodged in his throat.
“Okay.” Her voice is soft and quiet, though not in comfort. It just is.
His eyes close, a foreign calmness taking over him as she works on his hair. It isn’t as short as it used to be, but it isn’t as long as he would have guessed it would be after not seeing a hairdresser for nearly a year.
“An’ now we leave it fer 25mins.” Her voice arouses him from the half-asleep state he had been in. He turns to look at himself in the mirror, but she blocks his view. “Let’s leave that fer later, okay?” Her voice is soft again.
He swallows thickly and nods. “Okay.”
They go to his room. They don’t talk, not really, but the silence doesn’t feel suffocating. She looks around the small space, and the though of how empty his room looks strikes him. There is only the essentials of a bed, a desk with a corkboard over it, and a chair. It doesn’t have any personality.
But, why does he care what his room looks like to an outsider?
“Ya got any favourite books?” Cherī asks, done looking around the bare room.
“Shakespeare.” He answers automatically.
“He’s good. Don’t know much ‘bout his works, only Romeo an' Juliet an’ that’s just a general idea. Ah like Dracula, an' Dr.Jekyl an' Mr.Hyde. Ya know, books wit' what could be considered a homoerotic undertone nowadays.” She looks at the notes stuck on the board. Most of them are related to school or past commitments so he doesn’t see a problem with her looking.
“Ya got any relatives? Ah got at least two first cousins an' a bunch of other great aunts an' uncles that ma' parents want me ta know ‘bout even though Ah only meet ‘em once every five years. Kinda pisses me off when they get annoyed that Ah don’t know any of their names, but that’s what happens when ya barely see someone.”
He blinks. This was the first time since the first day that she is mentioning family. “Not on my mom’s side, I think. But on my dad's...”
Did he have relatives in Soul Society? There were quite a few similarities between him and Kūkaku, and Ukitake-taichō had mentioned that he looks like his former lieutenant Shiba Kaien.
“’s okay ta' not know.” Cherī says. “Family’s confusin' sumtimes, an' it doesn’t help when they keep secrets, or don't bother mentionin' important stuff.”
She was right. His father had kept the fact that he was a shinigami from him, what’s one more secret?
“Time ta' wash yer hair. Ya need help wit' that?”
“No.”
She doesn’t smile, nor does she frown. “Okay.”
 -------------‐-----------------
He doesn’t like how he looks.
No...
He hates how he looks. He looks way too similar to Kūkaku, with his sharp chin and eyes.
He looks way too similar to them.
What was one more secret?
-The past is never dead. It’s just buried underneath soil and concrete-
“Ichigo,” Cherī calls, brown brows furrowed in concern. “Are ya okay?”
No. “Yeah.” He croaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, just getting used to the new look.” He tries to smile but it must have come out as a grimace with the way she frowns.
“Okay. Ya got a dark hat or sumthin'?”
“Why?”
“’Cuz we're goin' ta' da store an' we're gonna buy ya a new dye.”
“This one is fine.”
“No, it ain't.” Her voice is a touch harder. “It’s makin' ya sad an' that’s da opposite of what we were aimin’ fer.”
“Cherī-“ He tries but is cut off.
“There's nothin’ wrong wit’ not likin' how ya look. Nothin' wrong wit' not likin’ black.” She says, and for a single moment, it feels as though she is talking about something else, like she knows what his inner tumour is about. “Let’s go get ya a new colour, Ichi.”
He nods, and chokes out an “Okay.”
 -----------------------
They're at one of the shops on the main street.
The first thing that greets them when they enter is hair dyes on one side of the aisle and deodorants on the other. Ichigo browses through the ‘natural’ colours first before going to the more ‘fun' – as Cherī calls them – ones. 
 All the colours of the rainbow were here: red, green, blue, purple, yellow and orange, along with a couple of other colours, each having different shades from lighter to darker. 
“When Ah first started dyeing ma' hair,” Cherī says, picking up a box and examining it. “Ah did it in ma' favourite colour – purple. Months later, Ah found out that if Ah planned on continuin' ta' dye ma’ hair fun colours, da colours would need ta' be ones that can easily be turned inta the next. Fer example: Ya dye yer hair blue, few months pass and ya want a new colour, yer either gonna havta bleach it or yer gettin' it done in green. Understand?” She places two bleaching kits in the basket.
Ichigo nods, examining the colours. His eyes stray towards the blue dyes, specifically the one that reminds him of Grimmjow.
He swallows.
Several months have passed since he had last seen the Espada; how would he react if he were to see him now – powerless and alone?
Well, he glances at Cherī as she compares two different shades of pink, not quite alone.
“Do ya like blue?” She asks, both boxes securely placed in the basket.
“Yeah,” He wets his lips. “I do.” It feels like he is confessing a sin by saying those words and thinking about his enemy. Were they even enemies now?
“Then get it.” She doesn’t reach for the box, preferring to wait for him to do it.
“It will clash with my complexion.” He argues weakly. Raising two girls since he was nine forced him to dive into fashion and learn the rules: body types, complexions, colour schemes and such. There were many other things he had to learn and do while his father was in mourning to survive but now was not the time to think about the past.
“So? This ain’t a fashion statement, Ichi. It's about makin' ya feel good and happy. But... if ya want a more autumn colour we can get red.” She reaches for the box and he grabs her wrist.
“No, not red.” Red reminds him of Renji, who reminds him of Rukia. Neither has bothered to visit him the months following Aizen's defeat. The excuse of him being unable to see them wouldn’t fly, not when he knew Urahara keeps gigais in his shop.
-There are bodies in the soil-
“Okay.” She says, slowly pulling her hand away. “Not red then. Bad memories?”
He winces, releasing her wrist to rub at his neck. “It’s... complicated.”
The girl huffs, “What does it remind ya of?”
He meant to say, “Nothing”. He wanted to say, “Renji”.Hell, he could have said nothing and she would have accepted his silence as an answer. Which is why he is so surprised when the word leaves his mouth without his permission.
“Blood.”
And it is true. The shade she was reaching for also reminds him of blood. It makes him remember the wound he had been inflicted in Hueco Mundo, where he quite literally died and was dead for a while, long enough for his inner Hollow to take control and battle the cuatro Espada Ulquiorra and win, before he managed to wrestle back control of his body. It also reminds him of the markings on his hollow mask.
Cherī looks surprised - not mortified, just... surprised. “Okay,” She repeats. “Not red.”
She’s examining the colours, searching for one that would fit his complexion, when he reaches forward and plucks the blue, Baby Blue, one and puts it in the basket. She doesn’t question him, doesn’t even indicate to have seen him do it but he knows she saw him and he appreciates her silence.
“What ‘bout green?”
His first though is Ulquiorra with his acid green eyes, marble skin, and black black bat wings that carry him over the sands of Hueco Mundo.
His second is Nelliel.
 “I like it.” He picks a turquoise shade called Mermaid.
“Pink?”
He likes pink, he's worn it often enough when he was younger and his sisters wanted to dress him up, but...
“No, not today.”
“Bad memories?”
He thinks of Yachiru, the girl with what he would describe bubblegum pink – even if that shade is called Cupcake here – hair and the man whose shoulder she would ride on.
“Not really.”
She nods, then juts her chin violently towards a reddish-pink colour named Love Letter. “What ‘bout that?”
The colour is nice so he gets it.
They continue on like that for a while, choosing and comparing colours - some of which repeat since Cherī also likes them - until the basket is overflowing. As a final colour Cherī chooses Snow – a pure white colour that reminded him of his inner Hollow's hair.
There's so much hair dye that he wonders whether he would ever be able to use each at least once.
The cashier is baffled by the amount but remains silent while she rings them up. It's as the numbers climb higher and higher that he begins to worry, given that he hadn’t brought that much money. But before he can open his mouth Cherī is already handing her credit card with a, “Could you also add one strawberry and one cherry flavoured chapstick? Thank you.”
He turns to look at her in bafflement. This was the first time he hears her speak ‘properly’ and it honestly unnerves him.
“Not ev'ryone can understan’ me, Ichi.” She says, handing him one of the bags.
They make their way to his house, talking about which colour they should do first. Cherī wants to see him in Love Letter or Milan – a light yellow colour that reminds him of an éclair's filling – but he says that he wants to try Baby Blue. She nods and gives him the strawberry chapstick.
“Yer lips are chapped.” She says and he accepts it.
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you-did-well-moon · 4 years
Text
The Warmth Provided (2)
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Type: Fluff, Angst, Crack, college au, friends to lovers au
A/N: The second part is here!! Which means we only have one more part to this little series! Disclaimer, not all requests I receive will end up like as big as this. Lol y/n keeps on with her booboo the fool antics in this one as well. At this point, idk if Sungjin and y/n will even stay friend jk yes I do. Don’t be afraid to talk to me and enjoy!!
TW: Reader neglects herself, awkward situations, toxicity and unreal depiction of Sungjin
Part 1| Part 2| Part 3
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You scrambled to bend down and look under the table seeing the whole time you had been touching and rubbing Jae’s leg which was right next to the actual pole. You quickly pressed your legs to the front legs of your chair. Shock made your chest tighten and a cold feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You apologized to Jae through your fingers which you had slapped on to your mouth when you saw what you had done feeling your face grow unbelievably hot. 
Jae was able to squeak out an accepting “it’s ok” to your insistent apologies, clumsily standing up and saying he had to go to class which you knew was a lie because you remembered he didn’t have class until hours later. He practically ran out of the cafeteria.
You sunk down in your seat burying your head into your hands feeling your body tremor with embarrassment and shame. You felt the need to be in your apartment snuggled into your bed and away from the other people in the cafeteria who you unrealistically felt were all staring at you although no one had actually seen what happened. 
 You were so sure that even if you were able to keep your feelings from Jae, you had just unintentionally still put a little strain on your friendship with the accidental game of footsie. You were so flustered and eager to get back to your dorm, you forgot Sungjin’s hoodie in the chair which had been next to yours. 
Instead, Jae’s jacket kept you warm on the walk back to your apartment. 
/-/-/-/
You pushed your face farther into the pillow pulling at your hair. No matter what you did, the embarrassing scene that had happened earlier that day kept replaying in your head, also filling your head with insecurities you had not had to face in a long time. You really hoped Jae had gotten over it and didn’t hold anything against you. 
You weren’t even sure you could turn up to your wednesday sociology class you had with Jae when you were so embarrassed. You really felt like just staying in bed instead of having to face the consequences of your clumsiness, but no, you knew you had to face reality like the responsible adult you were.
You screamed into the pillow. Who were you kidding? You still ate Cheerios and drank Capri Suns. You were the farthest thing from an adult a person could possibly be. You sniffed feeling shame still taking route in your chest. Missing one day for that class wouldn’t hurt right? 
A loud sound blared against the shell of your ear making you jump and gasp,  making yourself sit up and fumble around for your phone which had been right next to your pillow. You jumped off your bed, the alarm on your phone being a reminder for the fact that you had agreed to meet up with Sungjin and Dowoon at the coffee shop a few blocks from campus next to a cute little antique store. 
“I’m such a mess” you muttered, dragging yourself off the bed and taking a look in the mirror. You shrugged at your reflection deciding all you really need to do was brush your hair since it had been messed up while you tossed and turned wallowing in self pity on your bed.
You looked around for your shoes not finding them where they usually were at the foot of the bed before tripping on one of them when you remembered you had thrown them at the wall in frustration. Somehow you still managed to make life harder for yourself while crying about making life hard for yourself. You did not find any amusement in the irony of the situation.
You slipped on your shoes tying up the laces trying to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally step on them. What you were wearing was good enough to go out in public. It was a simple crop top paired with some ripped jeans and hightops. Simple, but you barely had time to finish your cheerios that morning so spending any more than five minutes on your outfit was out the question. 
You brushed through your hair making sure there were no stray hairs sticking out from the top of your head or any other parts of your hair. Checking the time, and you realized you had around 15 minutes to get to the cafe, and the bus ride usually took ten minutes. You made sure you had your wallet, phone, and other essentials grabbing the closest jacket you could find (which was thrown over your desk chair), and you dashed out the door excited to see your friends and eat the yummy treats the cafe had to offer. 
You also couldn’t wait to whine about what had happened with Jae knowing Sungjin would do his best to console you, probably more scolding than anything, and Dowoon would laugh at you. You didn’t notice you had taken Jae’s jacket until you were already on the bus, and Jae’s pine vanilla scent was the only thing your nose took in  making your chest thrum with warmth. 
You accepted your fate wincing and ducking your head, tugging the jacket tighter around you not having the nerve to take it off when it was so cold in the bus. Why couldn’t you just pay attention to what you were doing for once in your life.  Now you were stuck with your crush’s jacket, the same one you had embarrassed yourself with, and the cologne was now the only thing your mind could focus on.
The scent that surrounded you made you feel a sense of peacefulness calmed by the notion of the comfort you always felt around Jae. He made you feel safe, but you wished he wouldn’t have the ability to make your emotions go into such a frenzied mess. Being in love was hard sometimes, but you guess it was worth it if it meant hearing his laugh, or seeing his smile.
You were snapped out of your love struck thoughts by the bus abruptly stopping forcing you to check which stop you were at only to rush to the doors once you realized you were at your stop, shouldering past people and muttering apologies you scrambled down the steps checking the time on your phone. You had gotten there with about two minutes to spare. Luckily, the bus stop was only two buildings down from the cafe, so you didn’t have much to walk. 
In your short walk to the quaint cafe, you took some time to appreciate the sense of home the little town gave you.
The sun was sinking peeking out from the canopy of trees in the park just a few minutes away from the street you were on. People walked up and down the sidewalk laughing amidst their individual conversations, and the bushes lining some of the stores’ windows bristled with the fresh afternoon breeze. Purples, pinks, oranges, and yellows coloured the sky as the sun was starting to give way to the moon. You couldn’t stop the serene smile making its way onto your lips at the seemingly peaceful night.
You instantly spotted your two friends at the corner of the room closest to the bookshelf covering the wall it was placed against. You bounded up to the table smiling in greeting and putting your things down next to Sungjin. 
“I’ll be right back, i have to go order” you were going to turn away but a hand around your wrist stopped you. “Don’t. I already ordered for you” You turned around confused at Sungjin. He knew your order and had memorized it a long time ago, but he hadn’t ordered anything for you in years. You opened your mouth to thank him, but your words died in your throat when you saw your best friend’s expression. His eyes were glaring a hole into a spot on the table, and his eyes were hooded with his lips pressed into a tight line. 
You felt worried. You knew that look. He only got that look when he was mad at you. It didn’t really happen often. Last time it happened was when you lied to him about being at home when in reality you were walking home from the library very late on a cold night. 
You wracked your brain for something you had done wrong but came up with nothing. You looked at Dowoon for help who was sipping on his drink with a pitying look in his eyes. He raised his eyebrows at you before gesturing next to Sungjin at the ramen hoodie placed there. 
You squeezed your eyes shut feeling your chest dull with guilt. You peeked an eye open at Sungjin agitatedly shifting in your seat. 
“How did you find it?” you questioned giving a small smile at the waitress as she came to leave your order. You poked at your food pouting because you just felt your appetite basically disappear. 
Sungjin vaguely gestured at Dowoon, still not looking at you. You looked at Dowoon who shrugged. “I saw someone I know carrying it to the office, probably to the lost and found, and I recognized it. Took some convincing to the person, but honestly do I look like a thief? Especially that ratty old thing. Like hell i’d ever wear that.” Dowoon scoffed, truly unbelieving and dodging a paper napkin Sungjin threw at him.
“That ratty old thing is what you use as a pillow half the time punk. Y/n stop playing with the food and eat it like a normal person.”
You gave a wide eyes stare at Sungjin wondering how he knew you were doing something he could scold you for. You refrained from being too surprised.  After All, at this point in your relationship he could tell how you were feeling just by a look in your eyes . You shoveled a big piece of your dessert into your mouth hoping it would save you from having to answer any questions or talking in general. 
“I very specifically told you to give me my hoodie back yet you went and took it with you, even losing it! I mean you did the first thing I told you not-” Sungjin finally turned around to face you, tone like that of a mother before abruptly cutting himself off. You turned around, your mouth still stuffed from your dessert. You saw his gaze focus on the jacket engulfing your smaller frame feeling an icy kind of shame run through your body. 
You shifted your body away as if trying to hide the jacket that quite literally hung off your body with how big it was. It was already big enough on Jae, and there was no exception with you.
“Why do you have his- Jae’s jacket?  Since when are you so close he’s giving you his jacket?” his wobbly voice made you awkwardly chuckle taking a long sip of your drink. 
“Well” you awkwardly chuckled, “I was eating lunch with him and his friends, and they noticed your hoodie and started acting really weird so I took it off. Then the cafeteria was really cold and I really couldn’t stop myself from shivering, and Jae tried giving me his jacket and while he did that I kinda realized i’m in love with him. Then, we sat down and I also kinda played footsie with him” somewhere along your answer you had started rambling, so to shut yourself up you shoved the entirety of what was left of what you had ordered into your mouth.
As you kept chattering, Sungjin’s eyes grew wider, and his mouth fell further open. 
“It took you this long to finally realize you’re in love with him?” Dowoon’s genuinely amused question was drowned out by Sungjin’s whisper yell “You played footsie with him?” you winced shrinking in your seat. What was supposed to be soft bread now felt dry and harsh as you swallowed it.
“It was an accident” you nervously played with your hands “I thought his leg was the pole under the table” your eyes flickered up at Sungjin dumbfounded expression before going back to your empty plate. “That’s the part where you’re supposed to laugh,” you muttered.
“I really don’t understand how someone can have such a small amount of brain cells” Sungjin’s dumbfounded expression changed as he leaned in to the table putting his chin on his hand and looking out the window. You couldn’t see his face, but you took note of the sad smile on his lips. You knew your best friend, and you knew he was trying to play something off by joking around. Sungjin always did that. If he felt awkward or was trying to hide something, he joked around to ease whatever tension had taken a hold of him.
You felt trapped. You and Sungjin have always had so much communication in your relationship, and you always told each other what was on your mind even if it was a silly thought. You told each other everything, but these past weeks he seemed to be keeping so much from you. 
Were you losing your best friend? 
Maybe he had finally grown tired of you. Your insecurities stopped you from reaching out to him and asking him what was on your mind when a few days ago you wouldn’t think twice from cheering him up. You felt a pressure building up in your chest making it hard to breathe. 
Dowoon’s low voice spoke up paired with an anxious smile as if he himself could also feel the distance enveloping the two close friends. “What else did you expect? This is Y/n we’re talking about '' You and Sungjin both laughed, but it was strained. 
The rest of your time was filled with an unusual silence between you and Sungjin with Dowoon trying to make conversation, yet neither of you really indulged in Dowoon’s attempts at lighting up the mood only replying with small hums and chuckles. 
You were too busy thinking about what could have possibly put such distance between you and your friend of years, and if you could fix the quickly diminishing relationship. Meanwhile Sungjin was too busy thinking of how he was already losing you and preparing himself for the inevitable point in time where you would leave him without looking back happily walking away in Jae’s arms.
You said goodbye to each other with tight lipped smiles. You guys had always said goodbye with a tight hug and a promise to see each other later. 
On the bus ride home the pressure in your chest turned into heaviness weighing you down with uncertainty of what would become of you and your friend. No, not your friend. Your brother. Part of your family. You really didn’t know how you could live without him. You thought you were dumb. Would Sungjin really leave you like that? Without explanation nor reason? You felt stiff changing into your sleeping clothes and as you collapsed onto your bed. 
He hadn’t even called you peaches.
You didn’t really get much sleep. Thoughts of having to face Jae in your class the next morning and thoughts of why Sungjin was acting so off tossing and turning in the space of your tired mind. You hoped maybe you could just sleep through the whole day not having to deal with your crush or your best friend. Your reasoning being that It was friday, and you deserve a break. You knew that was a stupid reason, but you had no energy to really think of anything. The uneasy feeling at the pit of your stomach wouldn’t lighten up no matter what you tried. 
You would have to eventually face both anyways, and you knew it was absurd to avoid what would only fester and burden everyone involved the longer you let both situations be. You wished for time to turn back to normal when everything was normal. When you didn’t know you had totally fallen in love with Jae, or when you hadn’t done whatever you did to piss Sungjin off to the extent of him treating you so coldly. 
You honestly didn’t really want to return to a time when you didn’t acknowledge the feelings you have for Jae. Knowing what the warmth feeling in your chest was when you were around him was such an amazing feeling and just being around him made you happy, but it was hard not knowing whether he felt the same or not. By association, your mind traveled back to earlier that day when you had basically felt him up and you groaned scrunching your eyes tugging your blankets tighter around your frame in search of comfort. 
You tried thinking to a time when you had gotten any sign of him returning your feelings,  but it was hard to come to any kind of conclusion when he acted so friendly with everyone. It was difficult to decipher whether how he treated you was any different to how he treated others. It was one of his qualities you had fallen for. Even if he is feeling uncomfortable himself, he always tried to make other people comfortable and his generous friendliness had never failed in him gaining many friends. He always put himself after others trying to make their days brighter by doing and saying all kinds of foolish things. 
Jae lived to make others smile. It was one of his favorite things to do. He loved bringing happiness to those around him, but he also never failed in listening and offering words of encouragement to whoever needed it. You knew because he had done it all for you. He had made you laugh and lifted up your mood on multiple occasions, but he had also never failed to offer a hand of support when you needed it. 
Looking at the time on your phone you sighed seeing you would have to get up in about two hours. You closed your eyes forcing all thoughts out of your head and being able to fall under the blissful blanket of sleep. 
You woke up two hours later body feeling heavy with no energy at all and a faint tiredness making your limbs weak. You threw on some ripped jeans, a hoodie, and some converse after you got out of the shower. Your movements were slow and your feet dragged as you got ready for the class so exhausted you walked right past Jae’s jacket hanging off your chair which you had sworn to return today.You also forgot the important fact that the class you were going to was the one with Jae in it. 
You didn’t even bother eating anything knowing your body would only feel weaker later from the lack of nutrition, and your stomach would push against your ribs in protest to your choice of not eating anything You were just  too depleted in energy to really put any effort in taking care of yourself. You walked out of your dorm building simply nodding at people who greeted you too worn out to give your usual greeting and smile in return. You yawned the whole time you walked to the science building which was luckily not far from your dorm. 
You walked sluggishly, at a much slower pace and vastly different from the bouncy stride you had on a daily basis. You were too beat to really pay attention to any of your surroundings with your mind set on autopilot not really thinking of anything but how heavy your shoulders and head felt. Everytime you blinked it stung with the need to shut your eyes for a longer amount of time to rest both your body and mind. 
You fought to keep your eyes open, but even the chilly wind blowing against your face was not enough to stir any energy in you. The colorful leaves seemed monotone at that moment, their vibrant colors usually making you feel an excited little tingle in the base of your stomach, but today the colors just seemed to mock you with the vigor they danced and twirled with which your weary body could only wish for. 
You entered your class with a huff shouldering your bag into a more comfortable position while searching for your usual seat. You froze when you remembered this class was Sociology. The one and only class you had with Jae. You could already see his fluffy blonde hair, and his hunched form in his regular seat to the left of yours.
You hung your head letting out a tired exhale simply accepting your demise. You walked down to one of the rows near the front groaning as you fell into your seat and immediately buried your head into your arms relishing in the nice feeling of getting to close your eyes. You felt someone staring at you and you tried ignoring it, but you couldn’t stop the prickling sensation at the back of your neck knowing who it was. 
You slightly raised your head so only your eyes were peeking up from your arms meeting Jae’s worried eyes which instantly widened at the dark bags under your eyes and the paleness taking over your usual lively face. You shoved your face back into your arms, body slumping into an uncomfortable position. 
“You look like-”
“Don’t”
“-hell”
“Gee, thanks Jae for your encouraging words” you mumbled into the sleeves of your hoodie too tired to really snap back with your usual sarcasm. It was silent for a minute before gentle hands were shaking your shoulder and a sharp voice was telling you to get up. You grumbled since you were finally falling asleep even in the limb numbing position you were in. You sat up slouching in your seat and pouting at Jae who simply rolled his eyes digging into his bag. 
He took out your favorite snack and you figured he probably stopped by the convenience store again. He pushed the food towards you looking expectantly at it. You simply narrowed your eyes just wanting to curl into the warmth of your hoodie and sleep. Jae narrowed his eyes back at you tightening his jaw and crossing his arms. He pushed the packaged snack closer to you to which you simply clasped your hands together in your lap. 
“Eat”
“No”
He tried once again, voice firmer. “Eat”
Your response was the same. “No”
“Y/n” You knew the call of your name was a warning. 
“I’m not a child Jae” he slightly nudged your foot with his. “Then stop acting like one”
You stayed silent determined to get your way until Jae suddenly leaned closer making your breath catch. You avoided his gaze, but he ducked closer to look into your eyes holding the food with one hand and softly grabbing one of your hands to place the food into it. “Eat it. Please”
You shook your head letting out a small smile and ripping the packaging open. “Well when you say it like that” only getting met with an earnest “Thank you” when you put the first bite into your mouth. 
“What about you? Have you not eaten” your words were muffled from the food in your mouth, but Jae just let a chuckle rumble his chest. “Aww is tough little Y/n worried about me?” you started choking, mouth set into a frown from trying to fire back with a comeback forgetting you were in the middle of swallowing your food at the  moment. 
He let out an airy laugh this time patting your back and fixing his glasses. “I’ll be fine Y/n, just eat loser. I don’t want to hear your stomach grumbling the whole class period, it’s annoying dude”
You let out a miffed grunt only making him laugh again as he settled in his seat. The professor finally came in immediately telling the students about how his dogs had eaten his books (covers and all), so we only had to take notes today while his new shipment of books got delivered.
You finished the snack feeling a little better with food in your stomach, and brushing yourself off. You didn’t notice that Jae had taken off his hoodie until he held it out to you. You looked at him confused and he mouthed “Pillow”.
You gratefully smiled at him giggling when he winked at you and whispered “I’ll cover for you” much alike to what you said on the first day of this class when you two officially met. You missed the slight tint to the tip of his ears when you snuggled your face into the soft fabric of his hoodie much more comfortable with something supporting your head. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and you were so deeply asleep you didn’t feel when Jae brushed the hair from your face finger lingering on your cheek bone. 
You didn’t notice the soft looks he gave you every once in a while slightly smiling at your peaceful expression while writing the notes which he would give to you sooner or later probably blackmailing you into going to the new barbecue place in town. If you heard him right now, you would laugh. He didn’t need blackmail  for you to spend time with him. 
He just didn’t know that. 
Jae felt like he could breathe easier. Your cheeks were regaining some of their color, and the crease between your eyebrows had disappeared with your mouth falling slightly open. Your chest rhythmically rose and fell giving him the assurance you were having a restful and fittless sleep. 
He knew you had trouble sleeping sometimes, so he was glad you were finally getting a nice chance to catch up on all the sleep you had lost. Jae briefly wondered what it would be like to wake up next to you, cute lidded eyes adoringly staring at him and giggles spilling from your  pink lips as he playfully tickled you. 
Jae shook away the thought clearing his throat to calm the pounding of his heartl. His torment was luckily cut short from the professor’s voice calling out the end of class. 
He took extra time putting everything back in his bag, even putting your things back into your bag because he wanted you to sleep as much as you could. He eventually shook you awake with gentle hands heart fluttering in his chest when you slowly blinked your eyes at him stretching and thanking him. He offered to walk you to class which you took with some teasing. 
“So there’s a party tomorrow the boys and I planned” he started off words feeling heavy on his mouth. Maybe this could finally be his chance. 
You hummed before letting out a light gasp, “Ah, it’s one of those famous parties you guys have where you can only go if you were invited by one of the boys from the frat right?” 
Jae slowly nodded his head turning to look at you. “Have you not gotten invited yet?”
You shrugged your shoulders pursing your lips. “Sure I have. Sungjinnie and Dowoonie have invited me a thousand times. I’m just not much of a party person”.     You didn’t see the tick of his jaw when you said their names so affectionately before he shook it off with a goofy grin.
“Ah yes, what do you do? Sit in your room and watch Princess and the Frog for the millionth time” he scoffed nudging your shoulder with his. 
You nudged him back harder causing him to stumble. “Hey! don’t hate on Princess and the Frog you fool. It’s timeless, so get educated before I force you to watch it until you’re so sick of it, you won’t even be able to look at a frog” your ramble made him throw his head back and laugh fixing his glasses as his eyes crinkled. 
“Would you come if I invited you?”
“That depends. Are you inviting me?”
He stopped at a vending machine nervously swallowing but calmed by your usual teasing demeanor. 
“I am” the lump in his throat didn’t allow him to say much more than that. “Then yes, I’ll be there” you had to bite your lip from smiling too widely ignoring the excitement floundering in your chest. 
Jae couldn’t control himself, a wide smile overtaking his face as he got two drinks handing you one and ruffling your hair. “Great, I would have had to never let you eat my Starbursts again if you said no.” You rolled your eyes no longer fighting the beam on your lips looking at your favorite drink in your hands feeling nothing but happiness bubbling in your stomach. 
He started walking away when you called out to him, your eyes shining mischievously. “You better not leave me alone. I get lonely drunk” His laughter rang around the hall while he turned his head to smile brightly at you. “Wouldn’t dream of it”
He turned back around apologizing to someone he almost bumped into. You clutched the drink in your hands, the smile on your face still not leaving. At that moment, you really did feel like you could run for miles if it meant having Jae smile brightly at you like he had just done. Your chest drummed with a light kind of elation. You had never looked so much forward to a party than you did for the one happening tomorrow. 
You texted Sungjin when you got to your dorm. 
You: im going to the party tomorrow
You:  any advice??
Bob: I didn’t invite you?
You: Jae did…
Bob: Oh
Bob: See you tomorrow then
You stared at your screen confused beyond belief at Sungjin’s weird behavior blissfully ignorant of your best friend’s inner turmoil as he was given further proof he was “losing” you. You hadn’t accepted one of his invitations since the start of the year. You took a deep breath trying not to snap at him in text messages frustrated by his cold attitude. You simply decided you would confront him tomorrow at the party having enough of him acting so distant. 
You would absolutely not lose your best friend. Not Sungjin. Not like this. You were interrupted by a sound notification from your phone.
Bawk Bawk: Plz get at least 5 hrs of sleep today nerd. 
Bawk Bawk: I don’t want to be dragging around a zombie tomorrow. 
You: Yeah yeah whatever mom
He simply sent a meme of Younghyun rolling his eyes making you huff out a laugh as you put your phone to charge being able to fall asleep at a much faster rate than normal. 
46 notes · View notes
vampiregirl1797 · 4 years
Text
Virginity Can Be A Fickle Thing: Part One
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Lucifer Morningstar x Virgin Female Reader
 GIF Not Mine
 For My Masterlist, Click Here.
 ‘It’s your turn, Y/N.’ Maze said, her words becoming more and more slurred.
 We were currently playing never have I ever, and Maze had drunk on every statement so far, including her own. I shook my head fondly at the dark haired demon and took a breath, trying to think of something that hadn’t yet been said.
 ‘Never have I ever… left Hell to move to L.A.’ I grinned at the amusement on Lucifer’s expression before he took a gulp of his whiskey. Maze had been drinking before I’d spoke, so I’m pretty sure that meant she wasn’t really listening anymore.
 ‘If that’s how you want to play, love.’ Lucifer’s expression became playful in a way that made me brace myself for his next words, ‘never have I ever… danced on a stripper pole.’
My eyes narrowed at him as I took a gulp of my drink, wincing at the burn as the whiskey travelled down my throat.
 ‘I did that when I was drunk, because you dared me to.’ I rolled my eyes at the way his eyes darkened, almost lustfully.
 ‘Yes, one of the best dares I’ve ever been a part of.’ His eyes glazed over and I felt my face colour at the prospect of him imagining it again.
 ‘Stop that,’ I smacked his arm, almost surprised when I touched skin.
 We’d started playing this game when the club had closed half an hour ago, and at some point Lucifer had disposed of his jacket that was now draped across one of the club chairs, and rolled up the sleeves of his purple shirt to his elbows. It was the most casual I’d ever seen Lucifer and I had to stop myself from staring to long, in fear that I’d drool at the sight of his olive complexion, the softness only interrupted by the veins protruding from underneath.
 I cleared my throat, choosing to believe that Lucifer’s smirk was because of my blush, not because he’d caught me staring. I swear he’d taken his jacket off for that very reason.
 ‘That has got to be one of the least erotic moments of my life,’ I told him, a tingling at the back of my brain trying to tell me I’d been too truthful, but I took another sip of whiskey and it was easy to ignore.
 ‘Really? Tell me more.’ He said, scooting forward out of interest. The action caused his knees to, just barely, touch mine. I had to resist the urge to move further forward, to make the touch more prominent and less teasing.
 ‘Well, you know that I’m a virgin, right?’ I asked rhetorically, but paused when I saw the confusion and shock on his expression.
 ‘No, I didn’t know that.’ He replied, observing me in a way that he hadn’t since we’d first met over a year ago—with interest and desire.
 I ran my hand through my hair and continued, ‘well, I am and about a year ago… just before I met you, actually… Usually I’m completely fine with the fact that I haven’t had sex, but sometimes voices in my head start creeping in and telling me I’m a freak. So in this particular moment of vulnerability, I decided to just get it over with, find someone willing to just take my virginity so I could stop feeling like such a weirdo.’ I took a sip of my drink, ‘I went to a club and I ended up going home with a reasonably attractive guy. When we got back to his place and he started kissing me, I felt like he was trying to drown me with his saliva. It was disgusting, but I ignored it and convinced myself that it would get better from there. I was wrong. For someone who claimed he would make that the best night of my life, he couldn’t find my clit for the life of him, and the longer he tried the less turned on I was, so eventually I just gave up and left.’
 ‘That’s a shame, darling.’ Lucifer said, sounding disappointed on by behalf, ‘sex is one of the best acts on this earth, if your partner actually knows what he’s doing.’
 ‘Well that’s one of the reasons I’m waiting—I want my first time to be with someone who knows what he’s doing, to make up for the fact that I haven’t got a clue.’ I chuckled, crossing my legs and unintentionally knocking against Lucifer’s.
 ‘I’d say that’s a good thing to wait for. What are the other reason’s you’re waiting?’ He was curious and if I’d been sober, I would have recognised the danger at being so truthful with Lucifer about my virginity.
 ‘Well, I’m not waiting for true love or anything like that.’ I told him, leaning forward again so he could hear me over the music that was still playing loudly over the sound system, ‘I want my first time to be someone I trust, which might not sound like a big thing, but it is for me. I’m socially awkward on a good day, and the idea of being so intimate with someone is enough to make me start to freak out. So I need it to be with someone who knows me well enough to be patient if I start to get insecure about my body or my lack of experience.’
 ‘Another good reason, darling. Anything else?’ He asked, leaning forward, bracing his forearms on his legs just like I was so there was now only an inch between our faces. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the way his eyes had darkened with desire and another emotion I couldn’t identify. But it was softer and it made me curious.
 ‘He needs to care about me. I’ve heard the first time can be painful, so I want someone who cares about whether I’m enjoying it or not, and would me willing to stop, or slow down and be patient until the pain passes.’ My voice had gotten quieter and quieter near the end of my explanation.
 I blamed myself for making the mistake of looking down to Lucifer’s lips, which admittedly made it hard to concentrate. They looked so soft, so supple, which was something I had forced myself not to notice for as long as I’d known him. With a will I didn’t know I still possessed, I leaned back and put some much needed distance between us. I downed the rest of my drink and felt like I could look at him again, but it was a mistake. He was looking at me with so much pure uncontained longing that I felt my own body respond without my consent. My breath quickened, and I suddenly felt very warm.
 ‘That’s… everything.’ I said, wishing my voice didn’t sound so breathy but my drunken mind assumed that a quieter volume would make it difficult for him to hear the want in my voice. But that was a stupid assumption. He was the devil for Christ’s sake—he’d be able to smell out desire from a mile away.
 ‘Have you ever considered asking a friend? It would be safe to assume anyone in a close relationship with you would have all the attributes that you desire.’ I watched as he too leaned back as he spoke, resting his right ankle on top of his left knee. He held his drink in his right hand, while his left trailed back and forth on his thigh. When his touch started inching higher I had to force myself to look away.
 My cheeks darkened to crimson when I saw his knowing smirk. I cleared my throat and forced myself to remember what he had asked.
 ‘I’ve only really ever had female friends, so I’ve not been in a position to consider that before.’ I shrugged, reaching for my glass only to realise it was now empty. Before I could get too disgruntled, Lucifer held out his and I took a sip and handed it back to him with a grateful smile.
 ‘Well, darling, if the desire ever strikes you again I’d be more than happy to help you out.’ Lucifer grinned, his brown orbs shining with desire and another soft emotion that I couldn’t quite pinpoint.
 ‘I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it before.’ I murmured, not quite aware that I was speaking aloud as I stared at the leather chair next to the devil, steamy dreams and fantasies I’d had of him suddenly flooding my mind.
 ‘Really?’ he said, his tone making his interest and delight obvious.
 I blushed, ‘did not mean to say that out loud.’
 ‘Don’t be embarrassed, love.’ He smirked, his hand rested upon my thigh sending a wave of pleasure through me like a tidal wave, ‘it’s perfectly common.’
 He didn’t remove his hand, and I felt the fire grow with in me like a eager, untameable wildfire originating from a pool in my lower belly.
 He did make some good points, I trusted him, he cared for me and he obviously knew his way around a woman’s body. But what about after? I already had feelings for Lucifer, and becoming so intimate with him would make keeping those feelings separated from him more difficult. And that could lead to things getting complicated and me losing him as a friend. I wouldn’t be able to deal with that.
 My eyes snapped open—I hadn’t even realised they’d closed—and I stood up abruptly.
 I saw Lucifer look over to me in concern and I offered him a reassuring smile, ‘I’m just going to get another drink.’
 When I reached the bar, I poured myself an ice water and took a sip before leaning over and turning off the music. The silence settled over the club comfortably and allowed me to hear as my devil friend approached from behind.
 ‘What’s the matter? Is it what I said?’ He asked, leaning next to me against the bar.
 ‘I just… you’re important to me, Lucifer.’ I saw his eyes soften at my words, ‘I wouldn’t want us to cross any boundaries to a point that we don’t know how to be around each other anymore.’
 ‘Darling, that would never happen.’ He assured me, taking my hand in his.
 ‘How can you be so sure?’ my voice sounded small and I hated it, but I there wasn’t a hint of disapproval in Lucifer’s gaze, only understanding.
 ‘Because you’re important to me too, and I’d never let that happen.’ His voice sounded sure enough for the both of us, and the sincerity in his expression smothered my doubts like a soothing balm.
 ‘I believe you.’ I said, my mind made up, ‘If you were serious about your offer, I’d like to take you up on it.’
 His expression darkened lustfully, his hand trailing down my bare arm and leaving goose bumps in the wake of his touch. My eyes closed in anticipation after he spoke just one word, but it was full of so much promise that it sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
 ‘Excellent.’
Click here for Part Two.
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Do you know any fics that contain highly emotional love making scenes? (where they're really overwhelmed or one of them cries?). Preferably bottomlock? Thank you!(:
Hi Nonny!
OHHHH this is an old one; I started a list WAY back when you sent me this ask, and then I just… kept adding to it. So, I decided because I needed a new fic list, I’m going to finally post it… I’m so sorry that all of these are a mix between top-, switch-, and bottomlock
EMOTIONAL LOVE MAKING
Under The Covers by berlynn_wohl (E, 1,221 w. || Est. Rel., Shy Sherlock, Anal, Fluff) – John would have liked to have the lights on and seen everything, but Sherlock was shy, so they did it this way, always.
Husband by jinglebell (E, 2,003 w. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Multiple Orgasms, Fluff) – Sherlock orgasms when John refers to him as ‘husband’.
What He’s Like by magikspell (E, 2,919 w. || Love Confessions, Fluff, First Time, Inexperienced Sherlock) – Realistic first time. They love each other so much.
Pillow Talk by 221b_hound (E, 2,925 w. || Post-HLV, Est. Rel., Preening Sherlock, Limpet Sherlock, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Sex on Furniture, Scent Kink, Masturbation, Fluff, Soft Sherlock) – John gets home late from work and Sherlock is nowhere to be seen. John walks through the flat, distracted by memories of all the excellent sex they’ve been having, and finally finds Sherlock asleep in the upstairs room - apparently having fallen asleep mid-wank while inhaling the scent of John’s pillow. Well, you should always finish what you start, John thinks… Part 3 of Lock and Key
Affirmation by jamlockk (E, 3,096 w. || First Time, Dev. Rel., PWP, Love Declarations, Emotional Sherlock, Comforting John, Gross Fluff) – “Sunlight dappled John’s skin, casting a glow across his spreadeagled form as he dozed among the rumpled sheets. Sherlock knew the expression on his face was hopelessly soft but for once did not care about showing his true feelings so openly. He simply stood there, in the doorway, gazing at the impossibly beautiful man currently snuffling softly in his slumber.” Part 8 of All the ways we love
And as the seasons change, I love you more by Teatrolley (NR, 3,219 w. || Fluff and Angst, Est. Rel., Marriage / Proposal) – A year in the lives of John and Sherlock, essentially.
Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock’s belly.
Apodyopsis by QuinnAnderson (E, 3,347 w. || PWP, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Anal, Sexual Tension) – Apodyopsis: (æpəʊdaɪˈɒpsɪs) noun. the act of mentally undressing someone. Part 2 of Undressed
In Nomine by Atiki (E, 3,517 w. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Domesticity, Love Confessions, Sherlock Loves John, Overwhelmed Sherlock) – “Alright?” John asks gently, planting a kiss on Sherlock’s left collar bone, smoothing a hand down his chest and belly until it rests in the soft trail of hair below his belly button. John’s smile is all soft and warm. His hand feels tender and solid and real. A soldier’s hand. A surgeon’s hand. A lover’s hand. Oh. “John”, Sherlock gasps. And that’s where it begins. Written for a prompt on the Kink Meme: The only word Sherlock says during sex is “John”.
Stay by msdisdain (M, 3,561 w. || First Kiss / Time, Angst / H/C, Bed Sharing, Nightmares, Blow Jobs, Anal) – John’s nightmares are nothing new. Sherlock’s inability to ignore them, however, is.
Morning Sunlight by slashscribe (E, 3,565 w || PWP, Morning Sex, Fluff, PWP) – A thin band of soft morning light peeks between the curtains and stretches across John’s torso, laying dormant across his forearm, dipping into the space between his arm and his chest, illuminating his right nipple but just brushing the edge of his left, disappearing into his armpit, and reappearing again right over Sherlock’s eyes where his head rests, nestled against John’s shoulder. Sherlock is not annoyed by the light’s intrusion on his sleep, not when it rests so soft and tantalizing on John’s skin, a work of unintentionally erotic art. A PWP with so much emotion.
Rumpled by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 3,601 w. || Est. Rel., Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, PWP, Proposal, Bottomlock) – Then, halfway through a documentary on river otters that neither of them was paying attention to–how could John, with a gangly, limp consulting detective practically purring in his lap?–Sherlock suddenly bolted upright, looked at John with a perplexed expression and a crinkle above his nose, and blurted, “Marry me.” Part 4 of Longitudinal Cohort
Happy anniversary by Salambo06 (E, 3,772 w. || Est. Rel., Vulnerable Sherlock, Wedding Anniversary, Anal, Texting, Lingerie) – John inhaled deeply, feeling his cock pulse under the silk gown, and he let his eyes travel on the lean body in front of him. Sherlock was kneeling on the bed, their bed, and the picture had been taken so John could perfectly see his bare chest and pelvis. But what mattered most, what made John harden rather quickly, was the pair of panties Sherlock was wearing in the picture. Black, string over each hip and laces that outlined Sherlock’s erect cock barely hidden under the soft underwear.
Love and Hair Dye by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 3,920 w. || Est. Rel., Body Worship, Self Conscious John, Voyeurism, Idiots in Love, Smutty Smut) – Self conscious John decides to cover the greys on his head, and the colour isn’t what he thought it would be. Now he’s more self-conscious than ever.
Someone Else’s Heart by thisprettywren (E, 4,188 w. || First Time, H/C, POV Sherlock, Caretaking John, Pining Idiots) – A crime scene, a rainstorm, and something they both should have known all along.
Private Rituals by justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic) (E, 4,377 w. || Mastrubation, Anal, Light BDSM, Military Kink) – Sherlock has a very specific masturbation ritual, but what would John think of it?
a violent flash of purple by hudders-and-hiddles (E, 4,749 w. || Sex Toys, Friends to Lovers, PWP, Love Confessions, Porn With Feelings) – When Sherlock accidentally drops his towel, he ends up revealing a whole lot more than he’d intended.
One Day Like This by nondeducible (E, 4,872 w. || First Time, Bed-Sharing, Romance, Fluff, Virgin Sherlock) – When Sherlock emerged from the bathroom, the sight before him nearly took his breath away. The only light in the room was the small lamp on the bedside table. John’s skin shone like gold, his hair like the purest silver. He was on his side, facing the empty part of the bed, his outstretched hands ready to embrace whoever climbed in next to him. Sherlock could imagine, just for a second, that this was their shared bed and he was coming back to settle into John’s arms.
See Recipe for Details by pandoras_chaos (E, 4,981 w. || Oral / Anal Sex, Food, PWP, Fingerfucking) – John knows Sherlock’s mouth will never water over the sweet smells of baking chocolate biscuits or a lovely roast chicken, but he’s watched Sherlock nick mince pies out of Mrs. Hudson’s fridge often enough to deduce that the man does have taste, albeit confusing and obscure. So John makes a list: Things Sherlock Likes
Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 (E, 5,018 w. || ASiB Fic, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, Anal, First Kiss/Time) – Based on an Anonymous Prompt: “So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the american CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H’s kitchen when John says “She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her.” to which Sherlock replies with “no”. John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John’s or Sherlock’s bed & J&S sleep in the same one?“ Part 12 of Tumblr Collection
Every Little Thing by the_beekeeper_of_sussex (E, 5,066 w. || First Time / Kiss, Fluff, Frottage, Come as Lube, Embarassed Sherlock, Porn With Feelings) – When Sherlock walks in on John making tea wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxer-briefs things get a little heated…physically and emotionally.
all things warm and tender by darcylindbergh (E, 5,177 w. || PWP, Romantic Fluff, Rimming/Anal/BJ’s, Body Worship) – Grinning and giggling, John slides back down under the sheet and pulls it over his head. He finds Sherlock waiting for him, eyes bright and hair wild, the firelight bleeding through the thin fabric, colouring everything in soft peach and topaz, and in that moment he is so suddenly, unexpectedly, ethereally beautiful that John forgets how to breathe.
Strings by EstherShapiro (E, 5,267 w. || Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Massage, Friends to Lovers, Fingering, Anal, PWP) – Sherlock wakes his doctor up. Was this weird? John was sitting on his bed, late at night, rubbing his hands over another man’s body? That was supposed to be weird, right? Then again, this wasn’t just some man, it was Sherlock. They were so used to each other that John didn’t even think to question it. It wasn’t weird.
a very soft epilogue (my love) by darcylindbergh (E, 5,395 w. || Retirement, Domestic Fluff, Dancing, Dogs, Grumpy Old Men) – Across the pillows, Sherlock shifts and hums, the creases of his face deepening and then smoothing before settling. John watches him wake up, his chest swelling with affection and fondness, and thinks he’ll never get tired of Sherlock in the mornings, sleepy and soft. It’s been some forty-odd years, and John hasn’t gotten tired of it yet. Part 5 of things fairy tales are made of
Midnight Plowboy by weeesi (E, 5,399 w. || Est. Rel., Fake Vintage Gay Erotica, Anal, PWP, Roleplay) – “Does it feel like I’m sure?” John whispers into Sherlock’s ear. Sherlock swallows again.
Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John’s lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to recieve pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.
All the Flavours, Cherry and More by cwb (E, 6,274 w. || Est. Rel., Lip Gloss, Lingerie, Birthday Presents, Insecure Sherlock) – Sherlock feels a blush rising to touch his cheeks, more sensual than uncomfortable now that he knows John isn’t disgusted by him. No, John is responding exactly the way he had hoped.
The Effect of Memory by testosterone_tea (E, 6,430 || Praise Kink, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Smut, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Confused Sherlock) – John has temporary amnesia coming off of anaesthesia after an operation and not only does he not recognize Sherlock, he starts flirting with him! After John recovers, he doesn’t remember the incident at all. But Sherlock does. Confusion ensues.
Beg for Mercy (Twice) by Solitary_Endeavor (E, 7,060 w. || Est. Rel., Bottomlock, Bearded John, Edging, Rough Sex, Idiots in Love, Canon Compliant) – Sherlock hasn’t left the flat in four days, the itch of impatience beneath his skin too great to allow him to suffer interaction with any human being who isn’t John. This is probably a mercy that goes both ways, as he’s driving even himself mad. Sherlock supposes there is a lesson to be learned here about having himself to blame, but of course he blames Mycroft.
Of Razors, Pipes, Red Notebooks and Rugby Jerseys, Or: Sherlock Doesn’t Like His Doctors Clean Shaven by allonsys_girl (E, 7,313 w. || Est. Rel., PWP / Porn With Feelings, John’s Beard / Beard Kink, Roleplay, Love Declarations, Banter, Rimming, Anal, Domestic Fluff / Bliss, Idiots in Love, Emotional Lovemaking, Pet Names, Obsessive Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock) – John grows a beard. Sherlock really likes it. Part 1 of Consulting Husbands
Coda by SilentAuror (E, 7,448 w. || PWP, POV John, Porn with Feels, Switch, Fluff) – Coda to A Satisfactory Arrangement. “This is all I want to do for the rest of my life,” Sherlock tells him. “Screw the work. Let’s just stay in bed forever.” Part 2 of A Satisfactory Arrangement
High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you’re coiled like a spring and ready to be … sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don’t mean anything. Let’s drop it.”
I can’t pretend by Salambo06 (E, 7,692 w. || Fake Relationship, Victor Trevor, Jealous John, Miscommunications, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Anal, BJs) – They had arrived more than a hour ago, and the moment they had walked inside the hotel reception, John had understood why Sherlock hadn’t wanted to come. Two men, posh suits and expensive watches on their wrists, had come to greet them with sharp remarks and badly hidden mockery, and John had seen red. Sherlock hadn’t said anything, mostly ignoring the two men entirely, and without thinking twice about it, John had slid an arm around Sherlock’s waist and introduced himself as his husband.
The Very Unlikely Existence of a Flightless Bird in a Tuxedo by cwb (E, 8,829 w. || Poetry, Penguins / Animals / Zoos, First Kiss / Time, Blow / Hand Jobs, Sleepy Cuddles, Endearments, Friendship / Love, Adorable / Sleepy Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock Can’t Say Penguin) – A case at the zoo reveals something John finds cute about Sherlock. A conversation ensues, and so does happy endings.
A Lifetime Together by LondonGypsy (M, 8,886 w. || Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Falling in Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Pining Idiots, Alternating POVs) – John and Sherlock falling in love.
Unwasted by patternofdefiance (E, 8,966 w. || Post-S3 / S3 Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Angelo’s, Fluff, First Time, Anal, Cum Play, Flashbacks to ASiB, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Bottomlock, Cuddles, Multiple Orgasms, BJ’s, Bed Sharing) – John finds it three months after he’s moved back. He’s on the hunt for something to make for dinner, is scrounging through the cupboards, when he happens upon the graveyard of pasta boxes Sherlock still seems to create when left to his own devices. Behind seven boxes of pasta, all almost completely empty, is a dark-glassed bottle, with a paler coat of dust.It’s unopened. John’s face falls slack when he sees it, instantly recognises it, and for a long moment he just stands and looks at it.
With This Ring by Quesarasara (E, 9,121 w. || Est. Rel., Marriage Proposal, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Embarrassing Hospital Visits) – Sometimes even the best of plans go wrong. And sometimes wrong turns out to be exactly right.
The Painted Man by jinglebell (E, 9,894 w. || Tattoos, Scent / Tattoo Kink, Rough & Tender Sex, Fluff and Smut, Obsessive / Jealous Sherlock, Touch Starvation) – Here stood John Watson – middle name, Hamish, ex-RAMC captain and field medic, favourite brand of jam: Duerr’s, preferred toothpaste: Mentadent. Loyal, steadfast, interesting John had just done the most unpredictable thing merely by being.John’s body was covered, neck-to-waistband, shoulder-to-elbow, in tattoos.
Of Course I Forgive You by allonsys_girl (E, 10,735 w. || Love Confessions, Canon Divergence, First Time, Frottage, Wall Sex, Infidelity) – What if things had gone differently on that train car?
The Thin Line by Odamaki (M, 10,809 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Confessions, First Times, Anal) – John swallows. Keeps his eyes on Sherlock. Begs him not to ruin him.Sherlock leans forward over the witness box ever-so slightly, “I was distracted,” he informs the court, “by my partner, John Watson.”
Praise Me by testosterone_tea (E, 11,813 w. || Sherlock POV, Bottomlock, Dev. Rel., Virgin Sherlock, First Kiss / TimeBJ’s, Anal, Praise Kink) – In which Sherlock has an interesting physical reaction to compliments and John discovers it.
the first day of forever by darcylindbergh (E, 11,850 w. || Est. Relationship, Domestics, Light Angst, Insecurity, Emotional H/C) – “I’m going to marry you,” John murmurs with against Sherlock’s smile, and they both giggle in the joy of it. “We’re getting married.”“Yes,” Sherlock says, just to hear himself say it out loud. “We are.” A June wedding. Part 4 of things fairy tales are made of
Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w. | Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock’s perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.
The Slow Burn by CaitlinFairchild (E, 12,097 w. | Romance, Emotional Infidelity, Friends to Lovers) – John smiles, something small and private and for him alone, and Sherlock just…he knows. With a heart-stopping certainty, Sherlock suddenly knows.It feels like falling off the edge of a cliff. It feels like falling off the edge of the world. It feels like flying.
I Need You To See Me by Mssmithlove (E, 12,625 w. || Angst, Amnesia, Soldier!John) – After going back to war, John is yet again invalided home, this time with a broken ankle and a chunk of his memory missing, unable to recall the last five years he’s spent being Sherlock Holmes’ partner and husband. Part 9 of Happiness Awaits
And if you say the word, I could stay with you by CaitlinFairchild (E, 12,842 w. || Domestic Fluff, BottomJohn / Topping from the Bottom, Fluff and Romance, Dirty Talk, Proposals) – What Sherlock thinks is, On the day I die, be it in a dirty alley at forty or in my bed at eighty, the last thing I will remember is tonight, the way you looked at at me on the snowy pavement, cheeks pink with the cold, breath puffing in frosty white clouds, your heart in your eyes and snowflakes in your hair. I will remember that single perfect moment in my life, that moment I knew I had everything I ever wanted, and whatever happens next, I will die content. What he says is simply, "Marry me.”
Back to the Start by slashscribe (M, 14,088 w. || Sherlock’s Violin, Pining Idiots, Fluff, Domestics) – Sherlock hasn’t played the violin since John’s wedding (which is long since over), and when John returns to 221B, Sherlock relearns the violin as he and John relearn each other. Post S3 fic with an obscene amount of pining, idiocy, and attempts to pawn off tea duties.
Your Eyes in Darkness Glowing by tamed_untranslatable (E, 14,686 w. || Est. Rel., Case Fic, Hotel Sex, Bottomlock, Anal, BJ’s, Porn With Feelings, Homophobia) – Sherlock gets roped into a case in Moscow on his brother’s insistence, but finds that he can’t do it without John.
Pattern Behaviour by SilentAuror (E, 14,835 w. || POV First Person Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Stroppy Sherlock, Light Humour, Friendship, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Wall Kisses, Fluffy Angst, Happy Ending) – Sherlock doesn’t even know why he resents John’s dates so much. Until the day he does know. Slight angst, unrequited feelings (but don’t let that scare you off!)
In A Changing Age by allonsys_girl (E, 15,590 w. || Victorian AU, Virgin / Demi Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Mild H/C) – Sherlock wakes up in the 19th century, with no idea how he got there.
A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff) –  John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica [[FAVE!!! MUST READ!!]]
Best of Three by SilentAuror (E, 17,473 w. || POV John, 3G Moment, Porn with Feels, Post HLV, Rimming, Denial, Anal) – “You want to have sex with me,” Sherlock announces one evening about a year after John’s divorce. John’s vigorous denial sparks a three-day wager wherein Sherlock is determined to prove his point, and John is determined to hold onto his heterosexuality. Set well after HLV. (Canon-compliant). PORN. With feels.
Anytime by SilentAuror (E, 17,995 w. || UST, Porn With Feels, POV Sherlock, Romance, UST/URT, Happy Ending, Drunken Endeavors) – Sherlock blinks and attempts to focus. There is a little too much vodka in his veins at the moment and it’s having an unfortunate effect on his brain and retinas both. There are two Johns sitting across from him, and both of them are frowning at him.“You’re drunk,” the Johns tell him. Sherlock blinks some more. “Says the man with Mrs Hudson’s doily on his head.”
Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock’s body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn’t as sure…
For you, there’s only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock’s part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there’s only John.
At the Heart of it All by SilentAuror (E, 19,812 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Post S3, POV John, Domestics, First Time, Kissing, Romance) – John has been back at Baker Street for four months now and thinks it’s about time they had the Talk to see whether or not they could be more than friends. Sherlock has a lot of uncertainty about this concept for multiple reasons. Unabashed romance.
A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.
whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.
When to Let Go by KendylGirl (M, 22,109 w. || Friends to Lovers, Reverse Reichenbach, Sacrifice, Forgiveness, Angst, Love, Implied Drug Use) – What if it were John who had to die to thwart Moriarty’s plans? John’s supposed death shatters Sherlock, and when he returns, it will challenge the pair to forge a path of forgiveness, to peace, and to find a way back to each other. Part 1 of When to Let Go
Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn’t understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John’s request.
Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they’ve made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.
Tomorrow’s Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)
State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they’re both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.
Among the Secret Things by Kate_Lear for coloredink (E, 26,073 w. || Angst, Drama, Amnesia) – Sherlock would be the last person to describe himself as given to flights of fancy, but at the look on Lestrade’s face he could swear that something inside him curls up and dies. Part 1 of Among the Secret Things
Don’t Leave Anything Out by lookupkate (E, 27,422 w. || Epistolary, Falling in Love, Misunderstandings, Alternate First Meeting) – The first letter John writes home from Afghanistan is meant to go to a woman he went on only one date with. How it ends up in Sherlock’s hands is completely innocent. What happens next is not. What do you do when you find out the person you’re in love with has been lying about something as monumental as who they are? What do you do when you’re the one who lied? How on earth do you put the pieces back together?
a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of
The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w. || Alternating POV, MollyxJohn [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon…or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn’t know what Molly’s up to…but he knows he doesn’t like it.
Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.
The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away…
Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can’t help but wonder if he’s imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn’t getting cold feet about the wedding… Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series
The Semantics of Crop Circle Formation: a case study by Sherlock Holmes [unpublished] bycanolacrush (M, 41,710 w. || Sherlock POV, Aliens, Wordplay, Casefic) – “Look at these photographs,” I said, gesturing to the wall of crop circles. “What do you observe?”“Crop circles,” John replied.“Obvious. What else?”“Are…are those intestines surrounding them?”“Yes. The majority are bovine and ovine in origin. The farmers who have acquired these crop circles in their fields have also had a tenth of their livestock murdered and arranged thus.”“Why?” John said, presumably in a rhetorical fashion. I detest rhetorical questions. “That is what I must find out, John.”
In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate…
Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock’s failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he’s not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.
Bedroom Tales by Junejuly15 (M, 49,950 w. || Friends to Lovers, Through the Years, H/C, Military Kink, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Insecure Sherlock, Voyeurism, Post-TRF, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It Fics) – Bedroom Tales is a collection of John and Sherlock ficletsThey are set at various stages of their relationship and are in no particular order. Some are fluffy, some sexy, some angsty, there is hurt and comfort, romance and love. What unites them is that they all play in a bedroom, but not necessarily the one in 221B.
Triage by scullyseviltwin (E, 51,612 w. || Character Injury, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Sherlock POV) – Sherlock’s mind goes exceedingly, devastatingly quiet and gray-blank. When he speaks it’s through a thick haze, it’s through molasses, he’s so disconnected from the words that it may as well be the unconscious shooter speaking.
John Watson’s Twelve Days of Christmas by earlgreytea68 (M, 53,464 w. || Christmas, Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Alternate First Meeting, Falling in Love, Fluff and Angst, Hardcore Pining) – It’s the holiday season. John Watson needs money. Sherlock Holmes needs something else.
Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (E, 54,437 w. || Post S3 || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.
A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because…new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride… prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series
One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock’s first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.
Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,883 w. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.
The Book of Silence by SilentAuror (E, 60,056 w. || S4 Fix It / Post S4, Virgin Sherlock, Rosie / Parentlock, Domesticity, Fluff, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, First Person POV) – As spring blooms in London, John and Sherlock begin to take new cases and cautiously negotiate this new phase of life with John living at Baker Street again. Despite how well it’s all going, John struggles to forgive himself for the way he treated Sherlock following Mary’s death as well as trying to figure out how to finally put his long-time feelings for Sherlock into words. Part 1 of The Book of Silence/Rosa Felicia
Scars by SilentAuror (E, 60,493 w. || Rape / Non-Con / Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dub Con Elements, Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending, Mary is Not Nice) – S3 rewrite, showing Mary’s manipulation of John as he realizes his love for Sherlock. Mary is not having it.
The Moonlight and the Frost by CaitlinFairchild (E, 77,289 w. || Case Fic, Post-HLV, Self Harm, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Oral/Anal/Rimming, Romance, Angst, Mary is Not Nice) – John has to somehow rebuild his life in the wake of Mary’s betrayal and Sherlock’s deceptions.
Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 85,535 w. || Sentinel / Guides AU, Omegaverse, Aventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he’s kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations
Bleed Me Out by antietamfalls (E, 87,987 w. || Vampire AU || Bonding, Vampire Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, H/C, John Whump, Magical Realism) – John isn’t exactly surprised to discover that Sherlock isn’t human. His vampirism doesn’t pose a problem, even when their relationship gradually grows into something more. That is, until a deadly revelation about John’s blood sends their lives spinning dangerously out of control.
31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.
The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school’s Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse
The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.
The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w. || Alternate Future AU || , Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.
A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis
Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.
To Light Another’s Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w. || Post-TGG, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction / Recreational Drug Use, First Time / Kiss, Case Fic) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John’s care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.
A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,869 w. || Omegaverse / Prime Universe Crossover || OmegaJohn / AlphaSherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Angst, H/C, Dub Con, Humour) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?
The Quiet Man by ivyblossom (E, 157,369 w. || Post-TRF, John First POV, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Present Tense, Imaginary Sherlock) – “Do you just carry on talking when I’m away?”
Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w. || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition.
MARKED FOR LATER
Eggs and Toast and Love Confessions by allonsys_girl (E, 10,386 w. || Post S3, Love Declarations, Friendship, Oral / Anal Sex, Fingering, Top John / Bottomlock, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love) – These two really are such idiots, but they figure it out in the end.
Figuring It Out Together by ChrisCalledMeSweetie (E, 18,329 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Demisexual Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Frottage, Shower Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering / Sex, Fluff, Light Plot) – “So, being emotionally intimate makes you want to be physically intimate?” “Yes.” “Okay. And, uh, how far are you interested in going with that?“ (A story in which there is a first time for everything…)
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ravenvsfox · 5 years
Note
“be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking” feels so unbelievably and notoriously gansey to me that i can’t help but include the line in its entirety??
When the world ends, Gansey doesn’t end with it.
Or, no, that’s not right.
When Gansey ends, the world doesn’t end with him. It doesn’t even slow down, really, to ease him through the veil. 
He disintegrates into dust, and is immediately vacuumed back up again. He’s not what he was, exactly, because ashes can’t be unburnt, but he’s standing upright in his urn of a body.
Sometimes, like a double exposed photo, he thinks of his joints as knots and his arms as branches and his eyes as light on the wind. He wonders if it’s what Adam used to feel when he was contracted by Cabeswater. Or Blue, when she slips through the surface of a tree. Or Ronan, when he dreams a reality so thoroughly that he must become it, a little. 
Or Noah, as he decayed.
What a pleasure to be closer to his friends, he tells himself. To be made of Cabeswater. To be the source of their magic once and for all, so that they can take everything they need from him.
It’s harder than that, of course. His head is a maze of rambling corridors and mirrored surfaces, and everyone who tries to come in is lost.
______
It’s summer, and he’s climbing the porch steps of the Barns. He’s strung between ten different moments where he had, has, will, is climbing the porch steps of the Barns.
It’s mild this time, like deja vu. He allows himself an indulgent moment to think of himself as a time traveller, caught in the rich folds of then and now.
He knocks smartly on the door’s gleaming cherry surface. Ronan’s been on a wood-staining kick lately. He’s always liked to leave things a little bloodier than he found them.
There’s a rumble from inside, a sound like a thunking hammer, and then the door wrenches inwards.
“Ha,” Opal says, hanging off the handle. “Beat you.” Her hooves are on full display, and her face is flushed with self-satisfaction. Ronan yanks her backwards by the collar of her shirt.
“Cut it out,” he snaps. “You’re going to answer the door for the wrong person one day, and they’re gonna cart you away to psychopomp jail.”
“No one ever comes here anyway,” she argues.
“Except me, evidently,” Gansey says.
“Dick,” Ronan says, as if just noticing him. He bumps their fists together. “What’s up?”
“Just checking up on things. The Lynch estate,” he says airily, letting himself into the foyer. There’s an above average mess threading through the hallway, pockmarked floors and empty cans. A sagging bag of trash.
Ronan eyes him flatly on his way past. “Checking on me, you mean.”
“Is that so wrong?”
“It’s weird,” Ronan says, “considering you were also here yesterday to check up on me. Did Adam ask you to keep doing this?”
“I’ve cared about you for longer than Adam’s been in the picture,” Gansey says defensively. He pauses, then laughs at himself, realizing how it sounds. “I mean— I don’t need to be told to worry about you.”
“Believe me, I know that better than fucking anybody,” Ronan says. He looks a little unsettled, which is strange, against the backdrop of his pleasant patchwork living room. Being home usually dulls that sharp edge of Ronan’s like a felt pad.
“Was I really here yesterday?” Gansey asks, at length.
“You were,” Ronan says stiffly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m—I don’t know—“ he looks around, suddenly overwhelmed. “I couldn’t—I don’t know.”
“Gansey,” Ronan starts.
Gansey waves him off. “It’s probably fine. This is so silly. I just wanted to see how you are. I thought maybe Adam would be here, and we could…”
“It’s Tuesday. He’s at work,” Ronan says. “You know that, man.”
“Is it?” he asks absently.
“Maybe you should get a job too,” Ronan says.
Gansey gives him a look. “What for?”
“So you remember what day of the fucking week it is, to start.”
“I don’t think you can lecture me about self-awareness.” It was supposed to be a joke, but it nicks Ronan like a bee-sting, and he swells up with righteous anger.
“Right. Fuck me, I guess.”
“Ronan,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Are you gonna be back tomorrow with more hot new ways to insult me in my own home?”
“No I—I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Gansey says quietly. The fight swirls out of Ronan completely.
“Is it Cabeswater?”
“Maybe,” Gansey whispers. There’s so much more he should, has, will say. There’s an entire manifesto inside of him, written in invisible ink.
“Then we’ll fix it. Magic is our wheelhouse.” What he means is: dealing with trauma is hard and slow, and I’d rather fix you with a dream than with a heart to heart. Or maybe that’s not fair. Ronan’s always shown up for him, when it mattered.
“Okay,” Gansey says. He feels like he’s taking on the colour of Ronan’s certainty. He’s being stained and repurposed, and all his scepticism and fear is covered over with varnish, like it has been his whole life.
He wonders if Ronan could dream the old him back into existence, and this Gansey, put-together-wrong-Gansey, could quietly disappear.
______
“Ronan told me that you were having some memory loss,” Adam says. He’s looking at him from across the little table in the corner of Monmouth, an unreasonably expensive hand-crafted thing with two overturned plastic buckets as chairs. 
They’re eating leftover Nino’s, and talking circles around the conversation they should be having.
“A little,” Gansey admits. “It’s hardly a problem, though. I haven’t left any stovetops on or anything.”
Adam smiles with the corner of his mouth. “You don’t own an oven.”
“The point stands.”
“The point falls,” Adam says. “Completely apart. I can tell when you’re repressing. I’m an expert.”
“At repression, or at understanding me?”
Adam nods. Gansey snorts.
“Really, this is ridiculous. I’m supposed to be worrying about you, after what happened.”
“We’re supposed to be worrying about each other. See: friendship, appendix C.”
“Some of us happen to require more worry than others,“ Gansey says pointedly.
“If you’re talking about Ronan, believe me, I know. We’re working on it. But when have we even spoken about working on you?”
Gansey fidgets, uncomfortable. “It’s embarrassing. To act like what’s wrong with me is anything like—to pretend that my discomfort is the same as your tragedies—“
“Comparing yourself to other people never does anyone any good,” Adam says, chewing distractedly.
Which doesn’t make sense, because Gansey is rarely one person, alone. He is a many-headed thing. He watches his friends for cues, studies and takes notes and adopts his favourite things about them.
“I’m not comparing so much as I am prioritizing.”
“Repressing,” Adam reiterates.
“Anyway,” Gansey says. “Your boyfriend seems to think there’s a supernatural cure for me.”
“My boyfriend,” Adam starts, still stumbling over the title just a little, “uses whiskey and magic to dispel his bad days. I wouldn’t take a prescription from him.”
“What would you do, then. If you were me?” If you got resurrected wrong, and you didn’t know how to tell your friends that you shouldn’t have come back at all.
“Nowadays?” Adam’s eyes bore into his own, unsettlingly focused. “Ask for help.”
______
Sometimes, Blue holds him like she’s trying to overpower him. Not that he could ever resist her. She climbs over him on the purple couch in the sitting room at Fox Way, and hitches her legs over his lap, wrapping her arms so tightly around his chest that it changes the pattern of his breathing.
It’s an intensely physical kind of affection that she shares with Ronan, and even with Adam, in a way. They care so much that it chafes. They absorb him, and he absorbs them, and they never have to walk on their own.
“I’ve heard whispers, around Henrietta,” Blue says, “about a boy who won’t listen to his friends.”
“Oh?” Gansey says, playing along. There’s incense burning, somewhere, and the room is cloudy with it.
She nods into his chest. “Yeah, a real Dick, apparently.”
“Very funny,” he says affectionately.
“Yeah, except it’s not funny, actually.” She raises her head, and her pointy little chin jabs him just under his clavicle. “We’re worried about you. You feel like you’re everywhere at once.”
He wants to argue except—yes—that’s exactly how he feels. Everywhere at once. Too much at once. Unable to stop moving and thinking or he’ll die again, won’t he?
“I don’t want to be selfish,” he says.
“Gansey,” she says flatly. “You have been insufferable, and unintentionally self-serving—“
“I’ve so missed our pillow talk.”
She shoves him back so he splays across the couch, and then she follows him down. “You’re not selfish. You don’t have it in you. You’re like, so selfless that you end up being less of yourself.”
“I don’t think I know what that means.”
Blue kisses his shoulder, but it’s too hard, like she’d rather just headbutt him to get her point across.
“You died,” she reminds him.
“I’m sorry.”
“No,” she says. “No. Don’t be. It’s not your fault, and it’s not your fault that you’re not quite the same.”
His spine bows, and breaks. “Blue,” he breathes. He can’t believe she knows that. Is it so obvious, that that’s his problem? Is his impression of normal Gansey so terrible?
“You spend so much time just—marvelling at Adam and Ronan right?”
“And you,” he mumbles, but she ignores him. She gets like this, fired up and inspired and alone on her soapbox.
“Things get really hard for them, and they can be idiots about it, but they don’t let it break them, right? You don’t even realize that you’re doing the same thing.”
He frowns. “But I did break.”
She falters. “What?”
“I broke. I died. And things didn’t even get hard for me, Jane.”
She looks stricken, and she reaches down to hold his hand. “Of course they did.”
“It hurt, to watch my friends hurt. And I got a bit tired of responsibility. And that’s all it took,” he says bitterly.
Blue looks at him for a long time, still squeezing his hand.  
“Are you telling me you wanted to die?”
“No, no, not then,” Gansey says hastily.
Blue’s face spasms. “And now?” she asks.
“No,” he says again, but it’s see-through. A yes in no’s clothing. He tries again, and means it. “No.”
“Okay,” she says. “Jesus, Gansey.”
“I know,” he says. “I don’t know. It should be so easy to be happy. My friends brought me back to life, how many people can say that?”
“Maybe no one,” she says. “And that’s why no one else has had to talk about this problem.”
“It’s just—how am I supposed to feel worthy of that kind of sacrifice?”
“You’re a Gansey,” she says, half-smiling and ruffling his bangs. “Everything about you screams worthy.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, and it must show on his face, because Blue frowns, and her hand goes soft in his hair.
“You know we did it because we love you, right?”
He nods, overwhelmed. “I’d hoped.”
“Idiot,” Blue says. “When are you going to understand that as much as you’re impressed by us, and care for us, and want to fix our problems, we feel the exact same stupid way about you?”
“I don’t know,” he says honestly.
She puts her head back down on his chest, and traces shapes over his heart. “I guess I’ll just have to keep telling you.”
His whole body goes warm, and he catches her hand and kisses her on the palm.
______
On the anniversary of his death, they have a funeral that doubles as a birthday party. They drink, and mill from place to place, and stay close to one another. He thinks of Noah all day, of how they had died together in the end.
He remembers how Noah had always looked like he was fading in and out of reality, and he wonders if he ever flickers like that.
They bring balloons to his symbolic grave, and fix them to the nearest tree. 
Next to him, Blue cries, and Adam holds her shoulder. Ronan is furious, which is the same as crying. Henry hangs back a little, but he takes Gansey’s hand.
His friends surround him like they did on the night he came back. Like they do every day.
“He died for us,” Gansey says. “He should be here.”
“So did you,” Henry says.
“Exactly. So why did I come back and he didn’t?”
“He was dead for a long time,” Adam says slowly. “Cabeswater didn’t get to know him like it got to know you. It wasn’t feasible.”
“Magic isn’t feasible,” Gansey says fiercely. “What does seven years even matter to a timeless forest?”
“Magic has rules,” Ronan says.
“Since when do you care about rules?”
“Since when do you take your shit out on me all the time?” Ronan says calmly.
Gansey clenches his jaw, then drops Henry’s hand to hold his own over his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re allowed to be mad,” Blue says.
“I am.” He watches the wind twirl Noah’s wooden grave-marker. “I’m mad.”
“Finally,” Ronan says.
“No,” Gansey says. “You don’t get to act like I’ve been taking too long, or, or like this should be easy for me.”
“Stop trying to make this about your emotional superiority to Ronan,” Adam says.
“Superiority,” Gansey repeats. He laughs, disbelieving.
“Guys,” Henry starts.
“It’s like you can’t believe that you could possibly be doing worse than us.”
“Adam,” Blue says. “That’s not it at all.”
“No,” Gansey says. “That’s exactly it. I’m doing worse. And worse. And nothing even happened to me.” He laughs again, and it stumbles into a sob. “Nothing ever happens to me.”
“You died,” Blue says, again. She’s always reminding him, like it’s not the whole of his identity now.
“I came back,” Gansey says automatically.
“So?” Ronan says, looking away, out into the darkness of the trees. “Anything can set off pain. It doesn’t have to make sense to feel like shit.”
Adam quietly shifts on his feet and curls his fingers into Ronan’s wristbands.
“You don’t have to feel bad about feeling bad, bud,” Henry says.
He can feel his face crumpling. The hurt throbs, persistent, so close to being discovered that it starts shouting and waving its arms.
“I think—“ he swallows. His friends crane in towards him, waiting for him to speak. They’re so attentive, and scared, and wounded, like him. “I need some help.”
A tear slips down his cheek and disappears. The wind whistles. Nothing changes, except his friends faces, which are all profoundly relieved.
Blue smiles, watery, and reaches for him. “Then it’s a good thing we’re all here.”
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mariposalass · 4 years
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Long Woolen Tripping Hazard (Scarf)
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Summary: While raiding through the TARDIS closet to keep herself warm, Mari encounters a ridiculously long scarf of many colors, which gives the Doctor some deja vu from an incarnation years ago and he is trying to talk her out of bringing it with her outside.
Notes: Day 11 of @silentlyfangirlingselfshipper​’s A Very Shippy Christmas event has arrived, and scarves are the main theme. I decided to make a short story regarding about the time Mari raided through the TARDIS closet to find a scarf that could keep her warmer than her usual scarf. Also, tons of fluff and looking back at The Doctor’s past fashion choices. I will agree with Ryan Sinclair from the Whittaker era that the scarf could be a tripping hazard.
Tags: A Very Shippy Christmas, Space Grumps, fluff overload, tons of Doctor Who throwbacks and references, grandfather figure and granddaughter relationship, fashion talk, ‘what was my previous incarnation thinking!?!’
Hmm… Which one should I get from this closet? Mari pondered on the thought as she scanned across the enormous closet inside the TARDIS, looking for a warm cozy scarf to wear in a cold day which happened to be the day she was looking for one: the weather outside hasn’t been lightened up a bit with heavy snowfall. She knew that she needed to find a suitable scarf for her to wear or be freezing outside before coming across a section filled with scarves of different lengths, colors, materials, and styles. As she was going through the scarves, she noticed that there is one scarf that wasn’t like the other: while it’s made of wool like most of the scarves, this is long, maybe too long for any person to wear. The colors were dull but visible in red, green, chestnut brown, purple, and slate gray: it could easily be an eye sore to look for some people.
Taking it out from its resting spot, she could feel the soft texture the scarf gives off, but before she could anything with it, a familiar grouchy Scottish voice called out to her, “Now, now, young lady. I wouldn’t carry that scarf with me out in the woods these days if I were you.”
Shocked and surprised by the sudden arrival, Mari let out a soft yip as she turned around to see the Doctor right behind her, giving off quirky smirk look in the face. He noticed that she was holding onto the long scarf and began to wonder why would a girl who now fills the void left by Susan so many years ago tries to take that blasted thing with her out in the public.
“Oh, hey Doctor! Look, I didn’t mean to steal this thing...” Mari was mumbling between her words as she tried to explain herself and offered back the scarf to him as if she didn’t want to upset him.
The Doctor didn’t have anything much to say when he gently took the scarf from her and took a long look at it, it’s been years since he had worn it several incarnations back, before he got to talk to her again, “Well, what do we have here? I haven’t seen this scarf in such a long time. Why did you did decided to...”
“Borrow it for the day?” she could guess what he was about to tell, “Well, I thought about getting a different scarf than my usual one for a while, so I just went inside the TARDIS to find a good scarf to keep me warm.”
“Oh no no, that scarf is a bit of… a hazard unless you’re asking my fourth incarnation about it!” The Doctor tried to begged her otherwise, “Yes, quite warm and fuzzy, handy in finding your way back to the console room, stalling and outwitting villains, and hiding items for future use on the go, but not so much in avoiding tripping.”
“Huh, what are you talking about, Doctor?” Mari began to look more puzzled than the very first day they have met when he was in his 10th/11th self unintentionally dropping by at her elementary school’s playground.
“That scarf is way longer than I first remembered in my fourth incarnation,” he explained to her, “I’m aware you weren’t alive when I was a bumbling bohemian Time Lord, a bumbling bohemian with a poor sense of style and tombstone teeth, I’m afraid. Back then, I had made some very rubbish fashion choices.”
Mari was still confused by what the Doctor was talking as she asked him, “But I thought that your previous forms had made more fashionable choices as well, and you yourself as well.”
“Yes, Mari, it is true, but there are times wherein I do made some stupid decisions,” the Doctor added, “Such as why did I thought that a having a crazy explosion of colours was a good idea in my sixth iteration? Or what was I thinking with wearing a horribly fitted suit with sandshoes when I first met you? Quite rubbish choices I might add. Also, that bloody scarf. The length could trip you up if you’re not looking. Tripped on it a few times for a couple of times then. A tripping hazard regardless of what species you are, unless you’re a fish or a bird.”
“Geez, you’re really getting me scared!” she quivered in feat.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, dear,” he argued, “What I’m trying to say to you is that sometimes whatever fashion choices we made back when we were younger don’t always mean a fashion success. But then again this is coming from someone with the aforementioned perennial fashion problem. Be glad that your sparkly scarf is of the proper length to be worn outside. By the way, do you still have that scarf on hand?”
“Yes, I do, Doctor,” she replied back as she pulled a bright red scarf with silverly strands interwoven with the regular fabric, “You know what? You’re definitely right on one thing: You really HAVE a problem of finding the perfect style for yourself in the past incarnations and maybe in the future incarnations.”
“So, are you going to still borrow that THING?” The Doctor asked her again if she was still interested in borrowing his old long trip hazard of a scarf.
“Err… No thanks, Doctor! Besides, I didn’t want to trip on it as I’m walking and fall onto the ground with my face,” she finally changed her mind.
“Good decision, Mari dear,” he smiled back, “Glad that I’ve talked you out of it before something bad happens.”
“That’s definitely true,” she smiled in response, “And I also didn’t want people to trip on that scarf as well.”
“Oh yes, that one too,” he also noted.
The End
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missnmikaelson-main · 5 years
Text
Tabula Rasa - 15/38
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Her eyes burned from exhaustion.
The pen drew quick lines over the paper forming symbols that had not seen the light of day in over two thousand years.
She had almost everything she needed.
The flower had been ground down in to a fine powder and sealed in a bag. She had located a white rose in Klaus’ garden, and sage in the kitchen cabinet. The zinnia and holly had proven to be a bit more of a challenge, but they too were located in the botanical garden in the dead of night after the house had fallen silent.
The aloe came last. She’d located the plant but had needed to wait until it was ready to harvest the gel.
She just had to combine them now.
++++
Elijah’s sure steps faltered when he entered the courtyard. There were few things that had the power to surprise him anymore, but the sight of Caroline Forbes in his home did the job well.
He didn’t think he would ever see her again.
“What is going on here?” He looked from Caroline to his brother.
“I wish I knew,” Caroline crossed her arms. “Klaus called and told me to get down here as fast as I could. I just arrived.”
“I called you for Elena,” Klaus nodded towards the stairs. His eyes cut to his brother. “Kol…” the flicker in his eyes all but gave it away.
“What happened?” Elijah took a step closer. He was certain he knew, but he needed to hear it.
It was Hayley who broke the news. She came around the corner from the kitchen and told him what Klaus couldn’t bring himself to voice; that Kol had been hexed and killed three days before.
“Rebekah’s determined to bring him back,” Klaus nodded. “She’s staying in her witch body until it’s done and working with Davina Claire.”
“Elena seemed to take it worse than everyone else,” Klaus rubbed the back of his neck. He bit down his desire to snap when he caught Hayley’s grimace. “I called Caroline down because she hasn’t come out of her room since she saw him die; you’d think he was the first person she’d seen die.”
Caroline left the brothers to their grief and flashed up the stairs to where she remembered the bedroom to be. She knocked once and waited a beat before pushing the door open.
She froze when she found the brunette on the floor bent over a sheet of paper and surrounded by broken bits of glass.
“Elena,” Caroline closed the door and stepped lightly around the mess. “You need to get up.”
“I...” Alenka blinked back her tears. “It…” she gestured wildly to the mess on her floor. “It di… didn’t…”
Caroline pulled the brunette into her arms when the tears fell and moved back to sit on the bed. She rubbed the crying woman’s arm and waited for the sobs to pass.
“What happened?” Caroline stretched out beside her on the bed.
“He died,” Alenka’s voice was strained. She sniffled and rubbed her bleary eyes. “My spell should have brought him back, and it didn’t work.”
“Your spell?” Caroline’s brows shot up. “You’re a…”
Alenka nodded. “I was, and then I wasn’t,” she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, “and now I am again.” She covered her mouth with her hand in an effort to keep her bottom lip from trembling. “It should have worked…” She let Caroline pull her in for another hug.
“What are you doing here, Caroline?” She pulled back and hugged her pillow.
“Klaus called me,” she bunched the pillow under her head. “He saw you were having a rough time so he called. I came for you; I came to help you.” She covered Alenka’s hand with hers. “Tell me what you need, and maybe why you’re so intent on bringing him back.”
“How about we start with what I need?” Alenka propped herself up on her elbow and arched an eyebrow. She closed her eyes when Caroline nodded. “I need a plant… a flower from downstairs in the garden. Can you get it for me?” She sat up and crossed her legs. “And a mug of boiling water.”
“Sure,” Caroline stood up, “but why didn’t you…”
“If I go out of this room I know Hayley will try to start something,” Alenka pressed her lips together. “I can’t take that right now. Can you please just do this for me? I’ll tell you everything later, but right now I … I need this.”
“What’s the flower?”
“Datura.”
++++
Caroline traced the petals of the purple flower. They curved downwards almost like a bell. She had grabbed several of the purple blossoms; they had been precisely where Elena had said.
Following the brunette’s instructions Caroline the petals into small pieces and dropped them into the mug. She was so focused on her task that she didn’t look up until the kettle whistled and footsteps settled in the door to the kitchen.
“Is it time for tea already, love?” Klaus leaned in the doorframe. He watched the steam rise from the mug. “I never took you for a tea drinker, Caroline.”
“I’m not,” she lifted her gaze from the steeping liquid, “it’s for Elena; she asked me to make it for her.”
“Mmhmm,” Hayley rolled her eyes from the door, “because she’s the queen bee, and the centre of the universe can’t make her own tea.” Her nose wrinkled when she leaned over and caught the rising smell. “That’s disgusting.”
“Nobody asked you to drink it,” Caroline snapped. She had assumed Elena had been exaggerating in her overtired state, but it was clear she hadn’t. How long had she been dealing with the hybrid’s attitude?
Hayley’s eyes widened as she took a step back. In the months since Caroline had left the city she had forgotten about the blonde’s no nonsense attitude. She’d grown used to Elena’s way of taking her abuse.
She spun on her heel and left the room. Her blood boiled when she saw Elijah pushing open the door to Elena’s room; because of course that was the first thing he did upon his return: check on the doppelbitch.
“Tell me she’s not always like that,” Caroline stirred the contents of the mug and watched the colour shift from brown to green. She had to remove the petals when the water turned purple otherwise it would be toxic.
“If only I could,” he sighed and leaned against the counter. “As loathe as I am to agree with Hayley, on anything, she is right.”
“About Elena?” Caroline pulled the petals from the cup.
“No,” he shook his head, “I fully understand her desire to avoid Hayley. I agree with her about the tea.” He tapped the side of the mug. “It does smell terrible. What is it?”
“Datura,” Caroline pulled one of the flowers from her pocket.
“The devil’s trumpet?” Klaus took the flower from her hand. “You know this is toxic, love.”
“Only when brewed improperly,” she discarded the wet petals, “and I brewed it properly.”
“I don’t suppose Elena has told you the reason she is so upset?”
“Not yet,” Caroline took the tea and headed toward the door, “but she will.” She paused with one foot in the hall.
“Klaus,” she glanced back into the bright room, “thank you.”
“For what?” A line appeared between his brows.
“For calling me,” she smiled; the confused look on his face was adorable. “For taking care of her, and keeping her safe; she really needed that.”
“You never did tell me what happened,” he came to stand beside her.
“And I never will,” she smirked, “that’s not my story to tell.”
++++
She dropped the last of the glass into the waste basket and sorted the remaining ingredients. She had enough of the flower left for one more attempt. Everything was shoved in her purse when the door opened to admit Elijah.
“Elena?”
Her shoulders stiffened. That was the other reason she didn’t want to leave her room; at least not when someone else could see her. She missed her name; Kol had called her by her name and made her want to hear it again. She had promised to tell Caroline everything and she had meant that.
Elijah saw the rigid set of her spine and left a few feet between them. This was the first that he had been alone with her since she had left his bed. He had thought things were getting better when he had left, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes when she turned.
She stared at the paper in her trembling hands. Her grief combined with the sleep deprivation set her body on edge. Colours were overly bright. Voices were too quiet. Her stomach shook. Her eyes were dry.
She needed sleep, but she needed the tea first. If she was going to spend time in the land of dreams it would not be time wasted.
When she finally lifted her eyes she was overcome by the strong sense of Déjà vu; they had done this dance before.
“Elijah,” she drew in a steadying breath, “did you need something?”
Alenka saw it in his eyes; the echo of the memory… of his own voice. What was he thinking about: the night they had shared, her desperate kiss, the feel of her flushed skin, or the following days when she had unintentionally frozen him out?
The dance would have a different ending now; the chorography had been rewritten. Guilt reared its head once more making her neck tingle; she had thought only her mother’s ‘I’m disappointed’ face could trigger that reaction.
“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Elijah tilted his head downwards. “Niklaus said you haven’t left your room in a while.”
“I’ve had little reason to venture out these days,” she breathed and fiddled with the paper in her hand, “there was nothing outside to interest me.”
“How about now?” He took a half step closer. Reaching up he slid a strand of hair behind her ear; his knuckle grazed her cheekbone.
She saw it then in the set of his jaw and the light in his eye. She knew she needed to sort this out before it became a major issue. She couldn’t knowingly lead him on and cause him pain; she wouldn’t let him pine for a woman who didn’t want him; who didn’t love him. He had been kind to her. He was a good man and he deserved someone who would love him.
“I’m good in here,” she exhaled and stepped around him to place the paper on the nightstand.
Alenka had hoped he would understand from that, but she realized how her words could have been misinterpreted a moment later when his hand gently closed around her elbow.
“I have to go,” she pulled her hair into a messy bun and shoved her feet into her shoes. “Your brother has terrible timing,” she bit her lip to temper her smile and ran her eyes slowly down his exposed torso.
“You could always ignore him,” Kol smirked, “I’ve been doing it for centuries.” His fingers stole under her top to trail over her spine.
“He’ll just send someone after me,” she hummed and closed her eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he’s got somebody following me around.”
“Oh, he most definitely does, darling,” he kissed the curve of her neck. “I’ve caught glimpses of him, but fortunately for you vampires require an invitation to enter the cemetery.”
Reluctantly she pulled away, stood up and chewed her lip. “I have to go.”
She didn’t want to go; she wanted to curl back up on the day bed and explore the plains of his torso with her tongue, but she needed to go before Klaus showed up and physically dragged her from the playhouse. Actually, Klaus probably wouldn’t have cared, but Hayley might have dragged her out by her hair; it was ‘donation’ day.
Alenka gasped when his hand grasped her elbow and pulled gently so she fell over his lap. She giggled into his kisses and released a breathy moan when he licked the shell of her ear and blew lightly sending a warm shiver down her spine.
“Nik can wait a while,” he skimmed his hands down her sides and squeezed her backside through her jean shorts. “He has an endless supply of time.”
She inhaled and flattened her palm over his sternum. Her smile was cheeky when she pushed him to lie on his back.
“Going to rush off for Nik, then?” He tilted his head when she rose to her feet.
“Not on your life,” she blinked before tearing her shirt over her head and shimmying out of her shorts. “He can wait a little while.”
She knelt on the bed and lifted her right leg to straddle his waist. Her body ached for him; he was hard and ready against her inner thigh. Her eyes flickered over his face; he grasped her shoulders and held her back.
“What are you doing?” She frowned. “You know he won’t wait forever, right? Your brother is many things, but patient is not one of them.” She straightened her spine and cocked an eyebrow.
“I’m just enjoying the view, Ellie,” he drank in the sight of her smooth skin and teasing smile. “It’s exquisite; you’re exquisite.”
“Flattery will only get you so far, Kol Mikaelson,” she smirked even as the blush covered her cheeks.
“It’s not flattery when it’s the truth, darling.”
She tore herself from the memory before she grew angry with him; he had known. She was certain he had known. Hindsight, as they said, was twenty-twenty and she could interpret some of his actions and words clearly now; he had known.
Elijah’s hand was still on her elbow’ she had gotten lost in her memory. Carefully she pulled herself free and perched on the edge of the bed. She ran her hands over her face and pinched her nose; breathing into her hands she looked up at him when he sat beside her.
“I can’t,” she blinked back a wave of tears. “I can’t. I shouldn’t have knocked on your door; I’m sorry.”
She had been beginning to doubt her power had returned, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it had when she felt the hurt coming from him in waves; that had been something she’d learned from her mother when she was young: interpreting emotions.
“Why did you?” His hope disintegrated. He knew he’d never have a true future with her; Klaus would have daggered him if need be to ensure she lived a human life.
“I…” she shook her head and sighed, “I don’t know… I don’t know what I was thinking that night. I was sad and confused, and I made a stupid decision.” It took her a moment to realize what she had said; when she did her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean…”
“Sleeping with me was a foolish decision?” His jaw ticked. “A colossal mistake?”
“That’s not what I meant,” she shook her head and met his flashing eyes. “I didn’t think it through,” she ran her hands back through her hair. “I really don’t want to fight, Elijah,” she could sense an argument brewing. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have done it, and I promise I won’t do it again.”
She squeezed her knees and exhaled slowly. “Can you go now please? I haven’t slept in three days.”
“Okay,” he nodded slowly. Caroline pushed through the door when he opened it.
“Hi,” Caroline made her way to the bed and gave him a pointed look, “bye.”
She waited until the door closed behind him to take the brunette’s arm.
“What did he want?” She watched her drink the tea too quickly to be considered safe.
“To see if I was alright,” Alenka set the mug on the table. “I assume since you asked you couldn’t hear which means my privacy spell worked. Thank you for the tea.”
“You’re welcome,” Caroline nodded, “now are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
She nodded once before stretching out on the bed.
“There’s so much,” Alenka closed her eyes and exhaled. “My name is Alenka. My husband and sister called me Ellie.”
“Okay,” Caroline nodded.
“Elijah once showed me some memories he had of him and I,” she stared at the ceiling. “Can you go in my head and I can show them to you?”
“I think so,” Caroline reached for her hand, “it works best with physical contact though. Just think about what you want me to see.”
“Okay,” Alenka nodded. “The tea it summons visions so if I happen to fall asleep during this you might want to slip out of my mind; I don’t know how dark they’re going to get.”
When Caroline nodded she closed her eyes and summoned the memories to the forefront of her mind. She showed her Amara and Elias, Qetsiyah and her death, meeting Kol and slowly falling in love. It was somewhere around the attempt to break her curse and the actual breaking of the curse that she lost consciousness.
Although, why her dreams were filled with her sister and her spell she didn’t know, at least not until she remembered Qetsiyah’s final words to her: ‘…sentence her to eternal torment…’
Her immortality spell had endured, and her sister was alive. Her sister was the key.
Tags: @rissyrapp20 @elejah-wonderland @elejahforever @eternityunicorn @morsmornte @fandomrulesall @xanderling
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jcmcisvu · 5 years
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◤♛◢ — I N T R O D U C T I O N S. ✧ 
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we’re back on our bullshit, laid ease ! lets mf GO !
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ASTRAEUS ZOSIA.
crown prince of the dragons !
dragons have been hunted for centuries, almost to the point of extinction, due to the value and magical qualities of their scales ( or, in human form, their hair ! ), their wings, and, for some dragons, their horns.
it is because of this that the dragons are a very closed off, reclusive species. they tend to keep solely to themselves and each other --- they’re untrusting of most non-dragons, unless one has proven themselves to be worthy of their trust.
it is for this reason that astraeus is also perceived to be reclusive --- no one outside of the dragon society has ever seen the crown prince ( or so people think ! ) and, thus, no one knows what he looks like or who he is.
it is for this reason that astraeus is able to sneak out into normal society, concealing his identity by going only by “astra” and never mentioning his species, let alone his title.
he is very pampered, a bit of a spoiled brat, the prized possession of the dragons since he’s the heir.
on that note, he’s expected to be perfect --- prim and proper, absolutely captivating, and he is supposed to remain hidden away from the entirety of the remainder of the world ( the crown prince of the dragons is by far the most valuable, after all ! ).
thus, him venturing out into normal society is absolutely forbidden and he could get into worlds of trouble if he was ever found out.
when he does go out into normal society, amongst all of the other creatures and species, he takes on the persona of a witch, seeing as he practises both white and black magic in his free time.
his general persona and overall aesthetic, especially when he’s out in the world, is very soft, he has a very magical air to him, easily described as ethereal --- twinkerbell !
despite being so pampered and spoiled in the dragon society, all he truly wishes is to be treated as someone’s equal, as opposed to being praised and put on a pedestal for every little thing he does. he simply wants a companion ( dragons are intended to be very needy, affectionate creatures, after all ).
as much as he prides himself on being the treasure of the dragons, he also finds himself wishing that he and his subjects didn’t have to hide, but he knows how dangerous it may be for them to come out of hiding, so he doesn’t question it.
thus, he tends to live an extremely lonely life.
his scales are an iridescent purple !
his hair is an iridescent purple !
his left eye is gold and his right eye is purple !
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ZARIN SEASONAIRE.
y’all know this b*tch !
crown prince of the demons !
he is half-demon/half-fae, which is an absolutely messy and dangerous combination ! he’s entirely op, uses his magic/powers for evil brought on my misplaced trust and ignorance !
he was brought up under the impression that he’s far better than everybody, including his siblings, in every possible way. thus, this caused a divide between him and pretty much everyone he could have possibly had a relationship with.
as much as his father insisted that he was important, a prized possession because he was the heir to the throne, zarin was also ... somewhat neglected for a lot of his life. he was raised solely to be the heir, solely to take the throne and to be exactly as his father is, so he lacks a lot of humane skills that he should otherwise obtain; proper morals, empathy for most people, a conscience.
his siblings died, his father didn’t care and insisted that he shouldn’t care either. thus, as upset as he was by the entire occurrence, he convinced himself that it was fine, that it happened for a reason, that he didn’t care.
he’s a bit ... fucked in the head due both to his upbringing as a whole and the death of his siblings. the years of trauma he’s gone through has absolutely done a number on him.
on that note, he’s chaotic evil ! but don’t worry ! literally someone just needs to ... convince him that he’s more than his father and that his title doesn’t define him ! and then he will be a soft pouty, but still chaotic babie !
he’s a bit forced to stay in ... whatever we’re calling the land of the demons, though he is occasionally allowed up to the surface to scope out whatever’s going on up ton per his father’s orders, and he sneaks up to the surface for his own enjoyment sometimes, as well.
he treats everyone like they’re his servants & playthings ! he’s the worst !
he’s the embodiment of sin !
in reality, though, he ... genuinely just craves affection, just wants to loved and cared for for real, but he would never admit that ! because hot take: he doesn’t believe he can love ! doesn’t even think he has emotions or feelings at all !
he’s ... messy. love him at your own risk !
he’ll bite you if you call him anything other than “zazzy” !
he teleports via smoke-travel !
his smoke is gold !
his hair is dark brown !
his eyes are bright gold !
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AMBROSE SEASONAIRE.
y’all know this babie !
when he was alive, he was half-demon/half-fae ! now, he’s a ghost !
when the argenti first invaded, he and hestia went out to fight, thinking that they would be able to defeat them since they were op as hell demon/fae and all, but, alas, they were killed and now reside in the afterlife as ghosts !
it wasn’t surprising that ambrose died in the fight, seeing as he has never been all too keen on controlling his magic/powers.
while growing up, he was neglected by his father due to not being the heir to the throne ! he wasn’t necessarily treated badly by his father, but ... he wasn’t treated great by any means, either.
thus, due to the way he was brought up, he’s very ... messy, but in a soft way !
he has a stutter, he’s very shy and reluctant about everything, very awkward, overall an antisocial crybaby.
he was bullied when he was alive, ever since he was a child, due to his awkward and oversensitive tendencies. he was even bullied by his own identical twin brother at times !
he kind of ... tends to cling to his twin sister, which he feels bad for and does his best to stop doing, but he just ... feels safest and most comfortable when around her.
now that he’s dead, he simply tries to blend into the background as much as possible. he doesn’t want to be noticed, doesn’t want attention on him anymore; he seldom ever talks to anyone, especially people who are still alive.
he doesn’t see himself as anything special --- he’s not magnificent and popular like his sister is, he’s not powerful and important like his brother is; he can’t even control the way he speaks, let alone his own magic. there’s nothing special about him.
it’s because of this view of himself that he is ... a bit sad. he unintentionally takes on a melancholic air.
he doesn’t think he’s worthy of love or affection, he doesn’t think he’s worthy of much --- he somewhat feels like he deserved to die, just so that he wouldn’t be in people’s way anymore.
he’s just ... a lonely, messy, soft kid !
he’s also a gay lil twink ! doesn’t know he’s gay, though !
he just wants to be called “rosie” !
his hair is dark brown !
his eyes are a dull gold !
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PARISA EAE.
a fallen angel !
angels are winged sky nymphs, formed from the fluffiest pieces of clouds and brought to life by the first light of day that the sun shines upon them on the morning of their creation, made with the intention of watching over earth and inspiring good and beauty.
parisa, however, was brought to life not by the light of a sunrise, but instead by the life of a sunset mixed with moonlight. this, unfortunately, skewed with the light and purity that she, as an angel, was intended to obtain.
despite her skewed purity, the other angels decided to make an attempt at teaching her the ways of the sky.
throughout her childhood and adolescence, she would try her best to follow the other angels in their good deeds, aiming to spread the love and light and beauty that she knew she was meant to spread and inspire.
all of her attempted good deeds, however, tended to end in disaster. if she tried to inspire love, it would result in hate. if she tried to inspire beauty, it would result in fear.
she never understood what was so wrong with her compared to all of the other angels, but she did her absolute best to be as akin to them as she possibly could.
when she turned eighteen, however, and her ability to inspire beauty and good still had yet to change, the angels decided that they could not afford to have her tainting all of their purity and hard work.
thus, they cast her out of the sky, deeming her a fallen angel.
ever since she has fallen, she has grown rather bitter about her fall, yet she also blames herself for it, as she still doesn’t know that her anatomy and dna was entirely skewed upon her creation.
she tends to be a bit reticent, not wanting to get close to people for fear of causing misfortune to them, as well.
since her fall, though, she has taken a love for modelling and fashion, taking on both modelling and fashion designing as her careers.
even though she knows she can do no true good, she still tries her hardest to inspire people through her modelling and designing and influence in whatever ways she possibly can.
she strives to know why she is so different from all of the other angels, but has long since stopped trying to find out.
she is ... vain, because she’s pretty and she knows it !
her hair is a peach/strawberry blonde colour !
her eyes are a silvery sky blue !
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KINGSLEY LEVANE.
witch boy who spends all of his freetime on alchemy !
his mother died upon his birth.
upon the invasion, despite his father explicitly warning him not to get involved or go anywhere near the aliens or their infection, kingsley took an interest in the argenti, wanting to study them to find out more about their anatomy, their powers, their intentions, everything about them.
thus, he started collecting as much information on them as he could --- he even took samples of their slime when he came across it to do experiments on.
as a result of a chemical experiment with the slime gone wrong, kingsley nearly died in his laboratory one night, but, fortunately and unfortunately, his father entered the room just in time to shove kingsley out of the way before the slime could touch him and, in turn, took his place.
kingsley’s father died that night do to being overcome by the chemically altered alien infection, leaving kingsley an orphan.
on the same night as this occurrence, kingsley rushed out into the city, pleading for someone, anyone, to come help him save his dad.
everyone just thought he was a crazy kid, insisted that there were bigger issues at hand than some kid’s silly, little games and tall-tales.
thus, while, logically, kingsley knows that he was truly the one to blame for his father’s death, he is entirely in denial of the fact that he caused it and he can’t help but feel bitter and angry not only at the aliens for killing his father and all of the people who refused to help him on that night.
thus, he seeks revenge on both the aliens and on all of the people who he feels wrong him.
he spends most of his days cooped up in his lab, trying out different chemical compounds and mixtures in an attempt to find something that could even just harm the aliens and that he could use against those who refused him.
the only time he really ever leaves his lab is to try and collect more information and data on the argenti as a whole.
he trades potions and his inventions and such for information that anyone might have on the argenti !
essentially, he is just looking to get revenge on all who he believes took part in killing his father, even if he gets himself killed in the process, which he knows is entirely likely.
he is also looking for a way to resurrect his father, though he knows that, even if he is a witch, his magic is far too weak for such spells.
it is because of both his vengeful tendencies and his reclusive tendencies that he doesn’t have many friends. he insists that he doesn’t have time for close friendships and relationships, that he only has time for his alchemy and research..
truly, though, hidden beneath all of the anger and vengeance, he is just a sad and lonely kid. he never knew his mom, he essentially killed his dad, he has near no one to turn to for any type of comfort; he’s just sad !
before his father died, he was really sweet and bubbly, very soft, so that side of him is still buried down deep beneath the anger !
he ... wants friends lowkey, but he doesn’t know how to go about making them !
his hair is black !
his eyes are turquoise !
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TOTO FLORENT.
imaginary friend ! boy with the horns !
he was the imaginary friend of a human boy who was absolutely obsessed with all of the magical creatures that there were around him. as a result of his obsession with all of these things, toto was imagined as a boy with magical horns.
toto’s horns are made of gold with magical qualities that even he, himself, isn’t quite sure about.
it was because of toto’s horns that he started getting made fun of upon the human boy telling his other human friends of his creation --- even if the kids who were making fun of him couldn’t actually even see him.
the endless teasing and taunting by these boys that his human boy called his friends eventually started getting to toto, making him feel discouraged, strange, like he was weird, an outcast.
it was for this reason that toto ran away from his human boy, even if he knew that, once he left, no one would ever be able to see him again so long as the human boy lived.
shortly after toto ran away, living his imaginary life wandering the suburbs and downtown areas, he found that people could see him, which he knew could only mean one thing.
the human boy had died. he had perished at the hands of the argenti no longer than a month after toto had fled from him.
this revelation absolutely devastated toto. knowing that his creator and best friend are gone, dead, and knowing that he hadn’t had said goodbye to him when he left ... it took a toll on him.
thus, the imaginary friend is a bit more melancholic than he once was.
he used to run about with his human, happy as could be and excited about absolutely everything, but now he has a sad air to him. he is no longer so happy nor excitable, but more depressed and despondent.
as an imaginary friend without a human or creature to be linked to, his existence is constantly wavering, even if more people are able to see him now. since there is no one (1) person who believes in his existence without doubt, he could cease to exist at any moment.
thus, he is on a quest for a new human/creature to be linked to ! all he asks is that they believe in him and do not make fun of or try to steal his horns !
as per usual, he is sad ... he just wants love and affection ... please ... love and affection him ...
his horns are gold !
his hair is dark brown !
his eyes are baby pink !
the rest of my muses will be added to this post tomorrow !
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