#no wonder they have worn themselves so thin

[pretty-little-mind33]

Wildest Dreams

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities

When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.

Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.

"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late." 

"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.

James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.

A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.

"Y/n," James whispers. 

"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.

You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway. 

Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.

Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.

He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed. 

You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"

His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if — 

Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been. 

"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore. 

You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.

A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms. 

You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.

"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.

"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales. 

"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor. 

"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."

So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"

"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.

"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms. 

McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"

William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."

"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.

"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."

You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.

* * *

A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.

However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.

"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him. 

"You feeling okay?" James asks. 

You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.

Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?

You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.

He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.

You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.

"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"

Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.

"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing. 

Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"

"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"

Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.

He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him. 

"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."

You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.

James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you. 

He crushes you into a hug. 

Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"

"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.

"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."  

You pull away only to have him hold you closer. 

"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.

"You smelt me? You're joking."

James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?" 

You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"

James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?" 

Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding. 

James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."

As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically. 

James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.

"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him. 

James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.

You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.

His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer. 

Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper. 

James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me." 

You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.

James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster." 

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?" 

James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose. 

"Well, he can start now," you smile.

James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"

You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"

James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.

You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."

James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"

"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him. 

#james potter x reader #james potter #marauders #marauders fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #james potter smut #james potter x you #marauders imagine #james potter blurb #james potter imagines #james potter imagine #james potter fic #marauder james potter #maraduers harry potter #mauraders #marauders imagines #hp marauders #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #hp #hp fandom

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about old man Price trying lingerie for the first time 18+

Pairing: John Price x Top Male reader

Content tags: mirror sex, humping, toxic masculinity

Series/ One Shot: Old man Price trying…for the first time i,ii

Throughout the course of his life Price has been called various things. Some of them were intended as compliments while others were meant as insults.

However never once in his life has he been called pretty, that was until he met you and it seemed that was the only word you were willing to use for him.

Men weren’t pretty but to you Price was pretty even though he was twice as old as the men you usually dated, with crow feet around his eyes and smile lines that appeared on his face every time he laughed or smiled.

Men couldn’t be pretty but to you Price was pretty even with his lack of experience, tears spilling down his cheeks and drool dripping down his chin as he did his best to take your cock down his throat.

Men were only ever handsome and strong but to you Price was pretty, beautiful even when stark naked and splayed out on your bed, baring his body and heart to you.

So with that in mind he thought you’d find him pretty like this: dressed in a lingerie that appears as red as his face, with a plunging neckline that highlights his pecs, material so sheer it shows his perky nipples and so thin his chest hair pokes through it.

As his gaze trails lower down his body he sees the way his cock leaves a remarkable imprint on the lingerie, frail fabric prickling at his sack and sitting tight around his length.

For a second he wonders if he should turn around, put his clothes back on, and forget that this ever happened.

But he’s already gone through the humiliation of getting the underwear, had even looked the cashier straight in the eyes and lied when he had said the piece was a gift for his girlfriend. It would be a waste not to go through with the plan.

However what he hadn’t expected was for you to walk in so soon, unaware he was standing in the room, and only dressed in skimpy underwear.

“John have you seen my-“ you don’t even finish your sentence, completely freezing in place and mouth falling agape as you take in the sight of the older man.

“Jesus Christ “ you say, sounding like the breath has been punched out of your lungs, not anything like you’re wondering why a man would ever wear something like that and everything like why a man like him hasn’t worn something like this before.

“When -when did you get this ?” You croak out, while carefully approaching the older man.

“I got it the other day, what do you think?”for a second he feels fear creeping up his neck, bile rising up in his throat as his legs ready themselves to run away in shame but then you say the one word you always seem to use for him and relief floods his body.

“Pretty”

“Yeah?” Is all he says, feeling butterflies swarm his stomach as his cock twitches in excitement.

You only hum in response as you hook a shaky finger around one of the shoulder straps, as if to take a better look at the piece before you harshly tug at it, and crash your lips together.

A surprised gasp escapes his lips, body momentarily tensing before he relaxes and returns the kiss.

One of your hands buries itself in his locks while the other hand slides lower down his body to cup his cheek, squeezing the tense muscles there.

“Please please “ he mumbles against your lips, not even knowing what he’s asking for as he tries to pull you impossibly closer to him.

“Oh fuck, look at yourself,” he hears you grunt out, before you swiftly turn him around, pressing your palm down on his lower back and forcing him to bend over and look himself right in the mirror.

When he sees his own reflection in the mirror , he almost doesn’t recognize himself. His hair is mussed, face flushed and mouth agape. For a second he dares think he looks-

“So so so pretty” he hears you say, sounding absolutely entranced as you grind your cock up against the cleft of his ass, pushing the coarse fabric further up the sensitive flesh and creating a delightful friction between his legs.

“Don’t- don’t tease please” he whines out as he arches up, ass pressing harsher down onto your clothed cock.

There’s a ripping sound being heard throughout the room, a brief stinging feeling grazing his skin before the lingerie’s being thrown carelessly onto the carpeted floor.

“ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll buy ah I’ll buy you more- so many more just- ah- just need you right now” you say through labored breaths while sloppily grinding up against his ass.

And as he sees your shaky hands unbuckling your belt through the reflection of the mirror, and hears the curses escaping you lips when you can’t get your jeans off fast enough and feels your hard cock pressing up against the cleft of his ass, he feels pretty, so pretty.

#call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #bottom male character #dom male reader #sub male character

[warmblanketwhump]

this was originally written for the sicktember prompt “I should have stayed home” but I forgot about it. so enjoy it now!!!

A raises their eyebrows as they see B dressing to go into town. “B, are you sure you don’t want us to to stay home and rest for another week? I can handle it.”

B shakes their head, pulling on their coat and winding their scarf around their neck. “I’m fine. I’ll go mad if I have to stay inside another day, and I want to help.”

A sighs, trying not to notice the dark shadows under B’s eyes. B’s been under the weather for the last week and a half, battling a terrible cold that hit along with the sudden cold snap. After nearly a week of being too weak to leave their bed, B had been getting restless, their mind tired of being confined to the cabin even while their body struggled to recover. But A wants to trusts B’s judgement of their own body and how they're feeling, so they let the matter drop.

Besides, A thinks, with the smallest tinge of guilt, we really do need the money from this market—maybe they really are ready to help. The doctor’s visits and bottle of medicines had stretched them thin this month, and there were only a few markets left to sell as much as they could before winter would set in.

On the ride into town, B seems alright—a bit more talkative and a few more smiles and rough-voiced laughs at A’s banter. And for a moment, A wonders if B’s just feeling better than they look.

But when they arrive at the town’s weekend market and start to set up their wares, A notices the way B struggles to lift even the lightest of the crates, how frequently they stop tug their scarf closer against the damp, misty air, how hunched their shoulders are. A says nothing, but tries to move the other crates as quickly as possible to ensure B doesn’t have to work as hard.

“You sure you’re okay, B?” A asks as they unload the final crate. They look exhausted.

B nods, though A notices they’re a few shades paler than when they left home. “I’m alright. Just not used to this much activity.” They try a weak smile, but it only serves to underscore how worn out they already look.

“B, if you need a break, you rest, alright?” A’s voice is stern, but they let their hand gently squeeze B’s shoulder, and B nods again. “And if you're not feeling well, you tell me.” B nods, their gaze already slightly glazed, and A fights back the urge to head for home right that moment. Trust them. They’ll say something.

The market opens, and soon A’s swept up in orders, chatting with friends and neighbors, hurriedly moving about their stand to ensure everyone has what they need. Out of the corner of their eye, they see B seated on one of the barrels they brought.

Good, A thinks as they take the money from another customer. They're taking a break like they're supposed to.

The morning continues, cold and cloudy and breezy, with a steady stream of customers buying their goods. It isn’t until a lull in the customers later in the morning that A sees C, a fellow vendor and friend from a neighboring farmstead, come by with a grey wool blanket tucked under their arms.

A shakes hands with C and the two exchange pleasantries about the weather, the harvest, the town news, and everything in between as A gathers up C’s usual order.

Then, C holds out the blanket. “For B.”

A takes the blanket, a puzzled expression on their face. “What?”

C gestures behind them. “Poor thing’s looked miserable all morning, and we had an extra blanket in our wagon. D said they couldn’t bear to watch them freeze for another minute.”

A whirls around. Sure enough, B’s curled up on the barrel, visibly trembling and clutching their coat close to themselves, and most definitely not the picture of health.

A takes the outstretched blanket and hurriedly nods to C in gratitude, then rushes back to B, who looks awful. All the color is gone from their face, their lips are a faint purplish-blue, and their teeth are chattering. When A takes B's hands, they feel like ice. A should have known that B would be too easily chilled in weather like this, especially considering how under the weather they’d been.

“B, what happened?” A briskly rubs B’s hands before tucking the blanket around B, then rubs their shoulders for good measure.

B tugs the blanket closer, shrugging. “Got c-cold.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“D-didn’t want t-to bother you. We need the money.”

A curses under their breath, wrapping their arms around B and pulling them close, wincing as they feel how frail B is in their arms, the near-constant shivers that wrack their frame.

B’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “I s-should have s-s-stayed home.”

They weren’t better after all, A thinks grimly. Helplessly, they look around the stand—boxes of goods that need packing up, loaded back into the wagon—and then there’s B, who’s practically collapsing in A’s arm, who A desperately wants to get out of the wind—

Before they can even begin to feel the full weight of the crushing guilt, C’s in their line of vision, eyes full of concern. “Go home. We’ll take care of this.”

“C, I can’t—“

“A, don’t worry. We’ll pack it all up. You can stop by the farm whenever to get it.”

A can barely whisper a thank you through the lump in their throat, then turns to B. “Alright, B. Let’s get you home and warmed up.”

Gone is the easy chatter of their ride into town—now, B just curls into A’s side, face buried in the blanket, soft, keening whimpers as they press their body closer to A and their warmth. Around them, the smallest snowflakes begin to fall, little glittering shards that dust A’s coat and make them will their horse to go faster.

When they arrive home, A practically leaps out of the wagon, B in their arms. A hurries B inside, setting them in a chair and stoking the coals to get the fire high. B’s trembling from head to toe, and A hastily covers them in another blanket, vigorously rubbing their arms. “There you go. I’ll get something hot for you to drink, then get you in a warm bath. How does that sound?” A tries to keep their voice even. B’s teeth are chattering too hard to respond.

After putting the horse and wagon away, A gets to work heating some canned broth from their pantry, then helps spoon feed sips through B’s lips when they’re shaking too hard to hold the bowl.

When they’re finished, A realizes that B’s ghostly pallor had been replaced with glassy eyes and high spots of color on their cheeks.

“B…how are you feeling?” A’s tone is cautious, warning.

“Cold,” B rasps, and still they shivered and clung to the blankets as they hunched close to the fire. “Need…need the hot bath.”

A palms a cool hand on B’s forehead, and their worst fears are confirmed. Whether B’s fever had never been gone or had relapsed when B had gotten chilled, it was back with a vengeance. They’re sicker now than they had been all week.

“B, you’ve got a fever. I….I can’t.”

B’s eyes are wild, feverish, desperate. “Please. Even a minute or two.” Their voice cracks on the last word, and they cough feebly.

“B, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

After a few minutes of desperate pacing, a compromise was reached: a small washbasin filled with heated water so B could soak their feet and hopefully take the edge off their chills.

After being dressed in the softest clothes A could find, B’s tucked into bed under two quilts pulled up to their chin.

B coughs feebly and tugs the blankets over their nose. Outside, the wind howls as a fall storm blows through, small icy pellets pelting the windowpanes, and B shudders weakly. “The wind. I can still feel it in my bones.”

A doesn’t feel a draft—only the stuffy air of an overheated cabin. Still, they smooth the quilts over B’s body before covering them with a third blanket, gently hushing them. B grasps the covers, squeezing their eyes shut as a single tear escapes.

“Please, A. I’m so cold. I want to go home.”

Great. Now they’re hallucinating.

“You’re alright. You’re inside where it’s warm.”

“Please, A. I want to go home.” B’s voice cracks on the last plea, and A can’t take it any more. They crawl under the covers with B, wrapping them up in their arms and hugging them close, feeling the fever burn through the layers.

“I’ll keep you warm, B. Just try to sleep.”

B rolls over to face A, and A can just catch the tear tracks in the flickering light of the fire. But it’s only a moment before B buries their face in A’s chest. So A hugs them closer, whispering soft, encouraging words as they try and lull B to sleep.

#cold whump #fever whump #sickfic whump #this has been languishing in my inbox for a while #so HERE #*throws shiny object your way*

[thebellearchives]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘

~ inumaki toge ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : reader tries to convince themselves their crush on inumaki REALLY isn’t that bad… it is

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, just cute fluff

‧₊˚ a / n : first person drabble, inumaki’s words are in Japanese because i seriously cannot bring myself to write the english ones lol srry

“Just a boy. He’s just a boy.”

It’s what I tell myself when I see him wrestling stupidly with Panda from the window of my classroom. It’s what I think when I see him wearing Maki’s skirt as a joke, and getting beat up by Nobara. It’s what crosses my mind when I see him stretching in his baseball uniform.

“He’s just a guy. Really.”

And then I stare at him sitting comfortably on the couch, watching tv. And I think about how warm his arms must be. I swallow on dry air nervously when he takes off his jacket during Saturday training, and think about how solid his chest must feel through the thin and worn down fabric of his white shirt. I look away, but I have a feeling some of my friends have noticed the way a shy peach color sparks through my cheeks. Because my eyes linger when he unzips his collared jacket to eat, and I try my best to not look like an idiot admiring his curse marks and secretly try to spot the one on his tongue when he opens his mouth. I stab my food with my gaze, really trying to think about something else, but I know a second or two later I will be sneaking glances at him again.

“Sujiko!” I watch him point at the fireworks during the festival we all agreed to attend together, our friends gasp and smile, staring at the sky.

But i’m staring at him. His lavender eyes shine violet with the lights of the pyrotechnics and his pretty white hair flows with the wind of the night. And I’m thankful there’s so much wind blowing, because the scarf he’s been using to cover his mouth tonight is losing grip, and it’s sliding down his chin. When his face is visible, i know i have the best view of them all. I did only enjoy the view for a couple of seconds, because next thing that goes on is him looking back at me curiously.

“Takana?”

“Yeah, Im good” I reply flustered, he smiles though.

A sudden, soft warmth grasps my hand then, and he pulls me closer to him when his fingers lace with mine like they’ve belonged there all along. It’s a simple gesture, but it makes my heart race like it never has before. My eyes hurry and search for him again in surprise. All he does is smile, and then goes back to admiring the fireworks that I had long forgotten by then. So I smile too. There are three words stuck in my throat, and I wonder if i’ll ever be able to let him know. For now though, holding hands with that boy was blissful enough.

#; fluffy belle #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk inumaki #jjk toge #inumaki x reader #inumaki fluff #inumaki toge #toge x reader #toge x you #inumaki toge x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fic #gn!reader

[presleyanswrites]

Hey babes got another request Well, it’s is more of an idea with JJ inspired by the song “up there down here by Jake Owen” feel free to do with this whatever you want 🤍🤍🤍

free falling - J.M.

pairing(s): jj x christian!fem!reader

a/n thank you for this baby

summary reader is scared about going full pouge due to her strict religious family but caves in after a date where jj shows her what she was missing.

word count 1.5k

warning(s) swearing, grammar

your mother comes storming into your room, slamming the door open which combusts against your fragile thin walls.

"Y/N." she groans and tries not to loose her patience. "What did i tell you about john b?"

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, knowing you would be flipped upside the head if you dared.

"you know? that guy who's always wearing flimsy shirts like a complete fool?"

she gives you a cold stare, her eyebrows on the ceiling and her eyes popping out like she was furiated.

"why is he in our driveway with that rusty ass old worn-down no good van?"

she immediately squeals and covers her mouth with her hand that was painted with red nails and an engagement ring.

she sighs and mutters under her breath to be forgiven but all you do is roll your eyes, (without her seeing of course) and storm past her and down the driveway, your mother scrambling for you, screaming and yelling for you to come back but you had made up your mind.

you had just recently become friends with the pogues, hanging out then and there as it seemed the bond kept growing by day, but you were scared of getting attached because of your family and how the felt about the pogues.

it had become a daily topic at dinner table conversations and it had started to annoy you after a few surf trips with those certain ian hated people.

you wondered if it was just easy for them to say just because they were rich assholes, and your new friends made you realize that over these few weeks.

they weren't really religious. You felt that at times they used it as a cover-up, or some kind of crutch to hide themselves and make them look perfect. and thats what your family image had always held the standard for. They didn't want you to be truthfully happy, whether it was with the pogues or not. They wanted you to be perfect.

you were naturally drawn to them, especially the blonde one who had sneaked into your window late at night when you knew the alarm in the house hadn't been set.

they taught you how to have fun. JJ, taught you how to live, be loose, go with the flow like the waves would. Something you had never experienced before due to the strict brick-and-border lifestyle you had obtained since you were three years old.

part of you felt guilty for being such a rebel since you were taught to always sit straight, but it felt good. it felt good to not have to constantly worry about every action you took.

as you scurried down the stairs you laugh at john b who honked the horn and gestured for you to get in.

"were going to the beach, theres a bikini in the back that kie dropped off for you, don't worry."

you were only excited for one thing. to see your favorite blonde boy again.

john b caught onto the energy and rolled his eyes, "the shithead will be there too, don't worry."

you gelt yourself blush at the comment but the both of you knew that was all that you were worrying about.

the engine starts as john b pulls out of your driveway, you didn't even look at your mom beating on the window.

as the van makes it's way down the road, you tilt your wrist out rhe window and make a wave gesture with your hand, making john b chuckle a little.

"so, you going to live life outside the bubble wrap yet?"

you groan and shift your head on the back of the seat. "I dont know! My parents are being total asses about it." you cover your face with your palms.

you slightly flinch at your words, you were already under the influence. you couldn't help it.

he gives you a look, "y/n, all the pogues have either went against their parents, or went to their funeral."

he looks back at the road and turns on another street.

"besides, do you really want to live your life for your parents?" he makes a raspberry with his lips.

"not on our watch. you deserve more than that." he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head slightly, "we'll show you."

he stops the van on the sand and turns the engine off before getting out and shutting his side of the door closed.

you huff and squint your eyes at the coastline ahead and maneuver yourself out of the twinkie, following john b out and onto the beach where all your friends were sitting by the fire and downing beers, except for pope of course.

"hey, guys." your lips curl into a laugh.

JJ spots you in the bikini and looks at his shoes before you take a seat next to him.

"hey princess," he faces his head away to hand you a beer from the cooler, "how'd getting out go?"

you shrug, "mom nearly killed me but here we are." you take a sip of the beer and place it in the sand.

his lips go into a downward position and he nods, finishing the rest of his drink.

"what do you think would happen if i ran away?" you press your lips together.

JJ nearly spits out his drink, "what?! why? for what?"

you put a small smile on your face and loosen up your shoulders, "i dunno i just kinda like you guys." you bite your lower lip, "i feel like if i don't get out now then i never will."

he looks you up and down, "not bad, newbie."

you laugh a little while the pogues continue to talk about surf plans.

"you wanna go somewhere?"

you hum a little, "where you have in mind?"

"ahhh, i dont know," he cocks his head, "private, maybe."

you nod your head and get up, "lets go then."

he chases a wave as he sits on his board, and you follow him out onto the water.

he kicks back a wave as you sit in the water admiring how hot he is surfing.

the both of you have fun riding waves before you make your way back on the sand, your gut internally sore from laughing so hard.

he takes your hand in his as you walk down the beach near the water line, finding a good spot to sit down as the sky turns pink from the orange sun setting into the horizon.

"so," he mumbles, looking ahead at the ocean in front of both of you, "you've been hangin' out for a while, you still a kook?"

you rest your tounge to the side of your mouth, "john b wants me out of figure eight already." you swallow, "i dont think its a bad idea."

he smiles, "well we know all about getting away from CPS." he takes a sip of his beer, "JB made like a pact with some of the officers by workin' a few extra shifts so they would get off his ass."

he shakes his head, "crooked cops," he tuts, "not bad for us though."

you felt a sigh of relief come over you. you wouldn't have to worry about legal consequences of it.

he turns his head to look at you, "what, you think you'd go to jail?" he laughs as you give him a sarcastically nervous look.

he looks up at the sky, "okay, yeah, maybe if you stick around for it all you might have some shit in your records."

you start laughing and jj admires your beautiful smile.

he looks at your face, "so, what do you say?"

you couldnt stop smiling when you were with him, especially all alone like this. "yeah whatever i'll pack my stuff tonight," as you draw circles in the sand.

"atta' girl," he nods as he sets down his beer.

you feel yourself blush and giggle like a little middle school girl as he wraps an arm around you.

"just so you know, im not so tight with the man upstairs."

you chuckle and nod, "obviously." you purse your lips slightly, "its alright."

"but," he starts, "you make me wanna be a better version of myself, you know?"

you grin and stare at the ground, "do I, now?"

"yeah." he smiles, "how bout' this?" he studies your face on his shoulder, "you teach me about all that god stuff and i'll teach you how to have some fun."

you snort at the comment, laughing, "deal."

he rubs your arm as you both look at the glistening water, the campfire in the distance.

you feel him sigh as he gently holds you on the sand, "thank god i have you, y/n."

you roll your eyes into your head at the corny joke before he tucks a small kiss on the side of your face making you blush slightly.

this girl is heaven on earth, jj thinks to himself.

"pope actually wanted you first."

your mouth drops open, "what?"

you start laughing as you punch his shoulder and JJ gives you a dominant stare.

you put your hands up in surrender, "okay, yeah, im yours, i give up."

he snickers to himself as you look in his eyes.

JJ shakes his head as he ruffles the top of your hair, making it all messy.

tags/idols @cafekitsune @theblackcatwitch4 @kardamenaa @drudyslut @abbyheartsyou @midnightstaylorswift @theblackcatwitch @gillybear17 @kraekat29 @wingsofoceann @drewstarkeysbae @aesthetic-babyyy @yeet-skeet321 @cal-flakes @theblackcatwitch3 @windandoceanobx join my taglist♡ masterlist

#jj maybank fluff #obx #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #obx fic #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj maybank x y/n #jj x you #jj fanfiction #jj fic #jj #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks #obx smut #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #presleyanswrites #presley writes 🦋 #presleyannewrites #𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓁𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓈 🎀

[punkshort]

i had an idea to add to the ‘str’ extras post. i came across an insta account that details “things ____ loves/hates” (i will link an example, credit to them for the idea), thought it could be an interesting, insightful look into sheriff!joel, of things you haven’t touched on but that makes up the wonderful man we have grown to love!

no rush if you decide to do it just a fun lil thing i thought of <3

https://www.instagram.com/p/C3BLN86OquE/?igsh=MWF0aG0ydzA4c3BnZg==

I like this idea! And I am very much looking for a distraction so I decided to have a little fun with it and make a photo collage to go along with my answers:

Likes:

Classic romance novels. I think he likes to keep it a secret but he has a soft spot for the classics (I thought wuthering heights was kind of apt... two people unable to be together, etc...)

Coffee. It's an obvious one, but maybe not so obvious is he prefers to share coffee with someone else. That's why he always found himself going to the diner, even before reader came on the scene. He just likes to be around others, even if it is his annoying younger brother.

Texas - duh. Sheriff Joel couldn't imagine living anywhere else, especially up north. He is a southern boy through and through.

Lazy mornings. Those are rare for him. Sarah tends to have a busy schedule, even on the weekends, so when he gets the chance to sleep in a little or just lounge around before having to get up, he really enjoys that (especially if reader is there, although he hasn't been able to have many mornings with her... yet 👀). To go along with this, he also really likes kissing. Just making out with no goal in mind. Slow, lazy licks and soft little noises under a warm blanket on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be? Perfection.

Old movies. Especially at the drive in. Something about the nostalgia of it really makes him happy. And that romantic side of him can't help himself. It's usually his go-to first date idea.

Football. As Sarah mentioned once before, he really enjoys American football and annoys her with it. Sarah really looks forward to the spring and summer because there's no football on TV and she doesn't have to listen to him yelling in the living room every ten minutes.

His favorite pair of jeans. He's had them for years, the knees are getting worn out but he loves them and won't part with them.

Sarah - obviously. Even though she keeps him on his toes and super busy all the time, he would drop anything for her. He is always struggling to balance work and home and he tends to stretch himself too thin and not take enough time for himself, but he tries to make every single soccer game and school event because he loves seeing how talented Sarah is.

Hiking, specifically with Sarah. It's something they like to do in the summer, at least one weekend a month. Occasionally he can convince her to camp out overnight, but she hates sleeping in a tent so it's a hard sell.

Dislikes:

People who don't use their seatbelts. It's so easy. Just do it. He's seen too many accidents in his line of work and he hates when people don't use them.

Snakes. Sarah never lets him forget about the time when he was nine years old and he went to put on his boot to go play outside and was surprised to find a snake sleeping inside. To this day, he can't put his shoes on without checking them first.

Oysters. It's a texture thing, he thinks they're gross. He doesn't care they are an aphrodisiac, he doesn't need it 😉

Line dancing. Even though he's from Texas, it makes him cringe every time he sees people doing it.

Snow/being cold. He prefers the heat. It's what he's used to and he doesn't like shoveling snow on the rare occasion Texas gets any accumulation.

Lip Gloss. He likes kissing. A lot. And he thinks lip gloss is too sticky.

Wool Sweaters. Because he runs hot as it is and wool just makes it worse. Plus, it's itchy.

People who talk about themselves too much. Especially women he's been on dates with. He likes learning about other people, but when it becomes apparent they have no interest in learning about him, it's a turn off.

Golf. Because all my Joels hate golf. For no particular reason at all.

Thank you so much for this ask! It was a lot of fun putting together.

#anon ask #ask #STR fic #sheriff!joel

[jerzwriter]

Twenty-Five

I re-read chapter one of Wake the Dead and couldn't get Troy and Zoe's friendship out of my mind. In canon, we see them together for the first time when Zoe (MC) returns from her first day out with the Scouts. I wondered what that morning looked like for them, and this is what I came up with.

Book: Wake the Dead Characters: Troy Hassan, Zoe Rivera (F!MC) Words: 1,300 Rating: Teen Summary: It's Zoe's twenty-fifth birthday, and she's finally going to see the world beyond the confines of The Tower. She's been waiting all her life for this change, but Troy feels a little different. A/N: @choicesjanuary2024 Day 10 - Change

Zoe shifted under her covers, groaning with discontent at the thought of getting out of bed. Her mattress could be considered an antique, and she never understood how it managed to be thin and lumpy at the same time. Her blanket was no more than scraps of wool stitched together, itchy against her bare skin when she stretched. Still, within the stark, concrete walls of The Tower, this was as much comfort as she could expect, and the thought of lingering there all day had its appeal. She mulled the idea of playing sick in her mind; surely one of her counterparts could rid the colony of mice and vermin for the day, but then her eyes went wide.

With renewed energy, she shot up and jumped from the top bunk. Goosebumps formed on top of goosebumps when her bare feet hit the frigid slate floor. Just as well, she thought, now she was fully awake, and that’s exactly what she wanted to be. She had waited a lifetime for this day, and now that it was here, she didn’t want to miss a thing. She swung the closet door open; her clothing options were slim, but she was grateful for what she had. After slipping into an old, faded Henley and her favorite pair of worn jeans, she brushed her chestnut brown locks, smiling at her reflection in the dingy mirror. 

“Happy Birthday,” she winked, then bounded out the door with an extra bounce in her step. She was almost at the commissary when she heard a slow whistle and a familiar voice coming from behind.

“Well, look at you! If it isn’t the birthday princess herself!” Troy smiled.

Troy Hassan was her best friend for as long as she could remember, and that smile was as much of an old friend as he was. She couldn’t express how much she had come to rely upon it. After all, sunlight wasn’t all that common within the confines of The Tower, but with Troy at her side, she always had her own personal supply.

“It’s me!” She beamed. “A quarter-century old, and I finally get to see what the world looks like outside this monolith!”

“Hey, keep your voice down,” he cautioned. “The powers that be are awfully protective of this monolith.”

“I know,” she replied, throwing a protein bar on her metal tray. “And it’s not that I’m not grateful, but there is a big world out there, and after being stuck inside these walls for the last nineteen years, I can’t wait to see it.”

He couldn’t recall the last time he had seen her this happy, so Troy did his best to keep the fear welling in his gut...in his heart... from making an appearance on his face. He had cautioned her about the dangers in the outside world plenty of times before, and today, he wouldn’t be the one to extinguish her flame. He turned his attention to the paltry food on her tray.

“What are you doing with that crap? Put it back!”

“Why?” she asked. “I have enough on my ration card for it...”

“That’s not the point,” he tilted his head with a mischievous grin, silently urging her to follow him.

The duo walked through the grey hallways, careful not to draw any attention to themselves before reaching Troy’s room. She never asked how he managed to get a room of his own, but she was pretty sure bribery or seduction had been involved, and the fewer details she knew, the better. Besides, she thought as she flopped onto the familiar mattress, far softer than her own, it behooved her. This was essentially her “home” away from home. It’s privacy, and his company had saved her more times than she cared to admit.

“Why are we here? I’m heading out with the Scouts in an hour. It certainly isn’t time for one of our game nights.”

“Of course, it isn’t,” he grinned, pulling a small package from a cabinet next to his bed. “It isn’t even night! But what kind of friend would I be if I allowed you to head out into that big world...on your birthday, no less...without a proper breakfast.”

He pulled a plate from the canvas sack, then lifted a napkin to reveal two enormous carrot muffins. Zoe’s eyes locked on them, then on Troy, returning quickly to the muffins.

“Where... where did you get... they’re my FAVORITE!”

“Eh, you know I have my ways,” he smirked, breaking a piece off the muffin top and placing it in her mouth, smiling as she groaned with delight. “Take it easy. If you keep making those noises, people will think we’re doing something else here, and your sister will have my hide.”

“Please,” Zoe rolled her eyes. “Ana knows better. But really, where did you get these? I think I’ve had two in my entire life.”

“I called in a favor,” he replied, his voice now filled with sincerity. “It’s a big day for you, and you deserve something special.”

“Troy,” she cooed. “You’re entirely too good to me.” 

She grabbed one muffin and took a huge bite. Then she took the other and placed it in Troy’s hand, but he rebuffed.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. They’re for you. It’s your birthday, after all.”

“Don’t be silly. I can’t possibly eat two before I go. I’d be too full to run away from all the zombies that will be chasing me!”

“Zo... don’t even joke!”

“All right, but I’m serious. Take one,” she insisted. “Sharing a delicious breakfast with my best friend is the only thing that could possibly top finally seeing life outside this cinderblock.”

“Well,” he playfully nudged her shoulder, “if you insist.”

He took a piece of the muffin, licking off the crumbs that stuck to his fingers.

“I still don’t understand how this is the way you want to spend your birthday. I know the desire to get out of this place, but... it’s not safe out there, Zo.”

“I know, but I’ve trained for this. Hell, I wanted to do this seven years ago, and I would have if Ana hadn’t but in.”

“She was just protecting you.”

“Protecting me from what?”

“Flesh-eating monsters, for one thing.”

“Troy,” she consoled, reaching for his hand. “I could have stayed on pest control. Stayed inside The Tower my entire life. Play it safe, never... live. But I wouldn’t be happy, and don’t you want me to be happy?”

Troy took the now empty plate from her hands and put it on the table beside him, then he wrapped her in a warm, loving embrace.

“That’s all I’ve wanted since we were kids, Zo,” he whispered. “That's not going to change.”

She pulled back with a smile. “We'll meet up tonight, and I’ll tell you all about my adventures today. Deal?”

“Deal,” he relented with a forced smile. “Just... be safe... please.”

“Of course I will.”

He wrapped the remainder of his muffin in a napkin and returned it to the bag.

“Are you insane? Why aren’t you finishing that?” she asked.

“Because it’s yours. I know with that muffin to look forward to at the end of the day, you will do all that you can to make it home.”

“Home,” she said wistfully. “I never felt much like I had a home. But then, I guess home is wherever you are. Well,” she giggled. “You and carrot muffins.”

Troy looked at his watch. “You better get going,” he lamented.

“Yeah, I guess it’s time.” She jumped to her feet, giving Troy one last hug.

“Thanks again. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“I don’t know either,” he teased. “But whatever it was, it must have been amazing.”

Zoe reached for the doorknob with a laugh. “Now, there’s my Troy. We'll catch up tonight. I promise!”

“We’ll catch up tonight,” he nodded, then she was gone. He stared at the door for a long while, then fell back on his bed. “She’ll be back," he reassured himself. "She promised."

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others separately.

#wake the dead #wake the dead choices #troy hassan #troy hassan & f!mc #troy & zoe #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #playchoices #choices stories you play

[abysswalkersknight]

Bloody finally finished a fic! It might just be the longest one I've ever done and it certainly felt like it when writing it. This is the first fic for my twst x final fantasy au so I did a lot of research with ffxiv and ffxvi I hope you like it, I did my best to keep the Eikon names out because I have know idea what to call them if anyone has any suggestions? I might eventually decide to put it on ao3 as well if anybody was interested.

Apologies for the rushed ending though, it was much longer then I intended for it to be and I was running out of paper. But other then that please enjoy!

........................

Where did his little one go?

Was what was spiralling through the old general’s head when he returned home to an empty house, there were no soft greetings from his precious dear or even his cute pale face peeking around the corner. ‘Silver? I’m home!’ He calls out, wondering if his son was simply playing outside with his animal friends. There was no answer. He was met with a heavy silence, my, how odd.

Normally Lilia wouldn’t have minded his son’s absence as the boy had often the habit of falling asleep in the most random of places and would need a bit of encouragement to wake up, but Lilia’s checked in all the cupboards, the bathroom, their bedrooms and closets, hell he’s even dropped down onto the cool wooden floor to peer under the beds themselves. But there was simply no sign of his boy, perhaps he’s just having some alone time, while that in itself was just fine, the silence furrowed Lilia’s brow and stirred something deep and restless within his chest, he glanced outside the window, thankfully the snow that day was only light but the darkening clouds above spoke of a daunting blizzard approaching, I should go look for him, the storm could be here by nightfall. Oh well, an extra walk wouldn’t be much of a bother and the racing in his heart will only be quelled with his darling boy either nestled within his arms or safely within his sight.

And all because of his blasted heritage.

Silver had hardly experienced a few years of a normal life, only for those few short years to be shattered the moment it was discovered that Silver was a Dominant… And in possession of a very special Eikon.

Typically it was rare for a kingdom to possess even one Eikon, their Dominants often dying off too soon from overuse and the Eikon vanishing into thin air until they chose another poor soul to haunt. 

Briar Valley, on the other hand, knew how to take care of their Dominants and has had the pleasure to lay claim to two Dominants, soon to be three with the strongest being their very own prince and future king. Many would foolishly dream of receiving such a privilege, to be ‘blessed’ by a being akin to a god, Lilia had always loathed this high ‘honour’. It was no blessing, nothing to gaze adoringly at, this curse was nothing more than a fancy name for the tight chains shackled upon all who were burdened with such power, he should know, he himself owned a very old pair. Earlier on in his life Lilia had quickly discovered that a Dominant nothing more than a mere shiny weapon to use at their kingdom’s disposal, they were not seen as a living, breathing being but something only meant to slash, cut and chop at the enemy until their blade shattered into tiny, brittle pieces, and even then those pieces were used until every granule was worn down. And now to Lilia’s horror, those very same shackles were suddenly clamped around his precious little one’s tiny delicate  wrists.

But cruel as it was, that was not the worst of it.

Growling deeply in his throat Lilia quietly shrugs on his weary cloak and stealthily slips out into the cold, making sure no one was around despite living in the middle of nowhere, just as they liked it.

A year ago within the Black Scale castle’s throne room, the senate had not at all been pleased when their eldest Dominant had announced that he would be moving out of the castle, and taking the newly found Dominant with him. In fact they had been quite furious, spitting curses at him, as he remained kneeled on the stone floor with his little one clutching onto Malleus’s clothes while trying to hide under the prince’s comforting arm and cloak.

‘How dare you forsake the privileges that were so graciously given to filth like you!’ They screeched and so forth. Lilia hadn’t cared for a single inane word they spewed at him, but then those harsh insults were instead suddenly thrown at a petrified Silver, ‘as if we’ll let you run off to let such a dangerous creature roam freely!’

‘It must atone for the sins of its kind! Did you forget what it did to our beloved princess?!’ 

‘Get that vile human away from the prince!’ as they yelled and shrieked all of these accusations and scorn, his poor darling little Silver trembled and whimpered as frightened tears silently fell from the child’s cheeks. Malleus even had to hold back a grunt of discomfort with how hard those little fingers dug into his hip, Lilia saw red.

He couldn’t remember much of what happened next, only how it took several guards dogpiling on top of Lilia to hold him down as Malleus, with wide eyes, suddenly pushed Silver back behind his legs fully as he tore into the senate ‘you dare question my judgement!’ he snarls, forcing the senate back with a hot plume of green flame ‘it is with my authority and blessing that Lord Vanrouge has permission to live elsewhere, opposing such is akin to opposing House Draconia itself. Need I remind you of your place, senate?’ In the end, before Malleus could set the senate aflame in Silver’s honour, it was thanks to Malleus’s grandmother Maleficia, who had made sure that Lilia was able to leave the capital safely. Along the way it had taken all of Lilia’s willpower to ignore all the hateful looks and scorn that all of a sudden seemingly spurred from every noble citizen he’s passed, it set Lilia’s blood ablaze as they were all directed at his stunned child, what utter fools! How dare they blame such a small child for all the wrongdoings of their kin! For the seven’s sake, Silver wasn’t even old enough to have been born during the war against the silver owls, let alone play a part in it! It was not as if the fae were free of guilt either. His poor little one had been so frightened from earlier that he stiffly hid inside Lilia’s cloak while keeping his wet face buried in his neck and had refused to move a single muscle until they had arrived at their new home. Lilia even worried at some point in their journey that Silver had stopped breathing with how tense and still he was. 

Lilia sighed, had he known the full extent of Silver’s ancestry, he would have never brought him to Briar Valley in the first place. If only I hadn’t killed his father.

At that thought Lilia shook his head, dislodging some snow particles. No, he didn’t have time for the past, what's done is done and he still had to find his son. The cool winter air nipped at his nose and ears, numbing them as his long dark hair lashed out with the gradually drifting snowflakes. Ever since the calamity five years ago, Briar Valley has been thrown into an eternal state of dark winters, harsh though it may be, the townsfolk have adapted well enough that they could still live comfortably. With every few steps he takes Lilia passes by warm braziers, dancing with green flame as he enters the city. 

‘Oh! Lord Lilia!’ a woman suddenly called out as the old general made his way through the rapidly falling snow. Cupping above his eyes and squinting, it was getting hard to properly identify anyone within the plaza, but thankfully with signature flowing locks as green as the richest of forests and a voice as boisterous to match, it wasn’t hard to tell who exactly was calling him, and wasn’t she a sight for sore eyes. He sighs in relief as Baul’s daughter cheerfully waves him over to the stall she was currently at once he was in clear view ‘how pleasant it is to see you down here my lord, are you out shopping as well?’ She chirps, paying the merchant as they packed her purchase, Lilia smiled tiredly and waved off the merchant when they gesture to their wares ‘no, no, not today at least, I’m just looking for a wayward son of mine’ he suppressed a rush of worried fear that threatened to wash over his whole being, he could still hear those heartbreaking wails and pained whimpers as his little one cradles a spasming hand close to his chest. For the past year Lilia hasn’t been without Silver clutching to his side for more than a day or two, and even then he’d make sure that his boy was in either Malleus’ or the Zigvolt’s care, for good reason as well.

It was part of why they had to move. While there was the fact that the castle was already a pretty little cage for Briar Valley’s Dominants, the sole reason they moved was because of the Eikon Silver possessed, and all the abhor and scorn that came with it.  

If anyone had ever thought the rough treatment Lilia received for being an ‘unworthy’ Dominant was bad, then his sweet little one had it even worse, he was already ridiculed for being human, and then to add fuel to the fire it was found that he bore the very Eikon that had ultimately slain their late princess who had been the prince’s predecessor… And his mother. Thus writing in big bold letters where and who exactly Silver’s lineage were.

Lilia frowned, he’d always had his suspicions but to have this as confirmation. He’d rather have stayed blissfully ignorant, thankfully Malleus didn’t give a chocobo’s arse who Silver’s Eikon was or what it’s done with his predecessor, it’s only a burden either way one that we now both share, he claimed when the senate had so viciously revealed the truth, the prince had solemnly looked down to the small child, in that sense he is just as cursed as I am. Lilia suspected they did that to further Malleus’s dislike for humans, only to have the opposite reaction to Lilia’s tremendous satisfaction.

Unaware of Lilia’s harrowing thoughts, Mrs Zigvolt’s sharp eyes narrowed into furious slits ‘you mean they haven’t told you yet? Those blunt headed fools!’ if he weren’t for his training, Lilia would have jumped at the sudden volume though he did back off a little, just in case. She then turned to him ‘apologies my lord, I’d thought that the boys would have told you by now but it seems I had too much faith in them,’ she shook her head ‘you needn’t worry about Silver, he’s actually gone off with my father and Sebek to the training grounds, father said he’d send a bat for you but it seems it didn’t show’ did he hear her right? Baul took his son to the training grounds? The castle training grounds?! Has the old crocodile gone senile? Baul better pray to his gods right now because Lilia’s going to bite his face off! Or at least he would if he wasn’t so confused as to how Baul managed to convince Silver to leave the house at all, it was hard enough for Malleus to get the boy to leave the forest’s safety. Before he could blink Lilia was already teleporting to the castle where he flies past the guards who were left stunned in the disturbed snow, clutching their polearms with bewildered expressions. He’s eventually stopped when a strong yet delicate hand suddenly grabs him by the shoulder ‘Lilia!’ exclaimed Malleus, he seemed shocked to see his guardian so frazzled as being compared to his usual carefree nature, coming at such a speed that his long hair was all over the place and damp with melted snow, his eyes soften with understanding though when Lilia ignores him in favour of frantically looking around for his dear Silver ‘don’t worry Lilia, he’s safe and just over this way’ he leads Lilia to peer around the corner where, in a secluded area that was usually abandoned came a barrage of determined youthful yelling.

‘Come, have at thee!’

‘Hiya!’

The shouts came from the middle where two young boys clashed together, their wooden lances slashing and faking fatal jabs. Snow sprayed and danced at their swift movement, either aiding or hindering them. From the sideline stood Baul Zigvolt, watching with an unconcerned yet stern eye, he waves over the prince and general while barking for the boys to continue ‘how has he been?’ Lilia asks, watching as the boys fought with precision and reckless abandon, just as he taught them. He was unable to take his eyes off his boy, as those beautiful silver locks spun in the cool air, that pale skin that made him seem gracefully spectral but it was those exquisite auroral eyes that captured Lilia, ever since the discovery of his Eikon Silver’s eyes have been dull, full of guilt and fear, but now as he parries another blow from Sebek, they were determined, a light returned to those big eyes that were once full of wonder. ‘How did you get him out?’ he breathed, Baul nods knowingly, after all he was there when every with the senate happened ‘don’t ask me, ask my grandson’ he grumbles proudly gesturing to the younger Zigvolt who blocked a hit from the side ‘he saw the boy training alone then brought him over demanding that they spar together, I honestly don’t know what he told Silver but it was enough to convince him to come’ he then looks sheepish ‘ah, apologies as well general, I did intend to let you know about this as soon as possible but we couldn’t have just waited around without risking anything.’

‘Baul.’ He was smiling but there was something chilling in Lilia’s tone. Baul blanched and sweatdrop ‘ye-yes general?’

‘While I appreciate what you’ve done, know that after this I’m breaking your old legs.’

#knight's writing #silver twst #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #twst #twst x ff #this took so long oh my god #I swear I can write cute fluffy stuff as well this just took a hold of me #and now here we are

[cozyenigma]

Ingrained

Word Count- 1201

Request?- Yes!

(sorry this took me so long! I hope the tarot parts aren't too basic and it's what you envisioned! And of you'd still like the anon handle you can absolutely take that one!)

Tag List- @cookielover0001010 , @swag-droid , @watchoutforfrostbite

Warnings- None

Dark didn't need to eat or drink. Food didn't nourish the carcass he hauled around and drink did nothing to quench his thirst. When he found himself presented with these things anyways, Dark always took a small amount of pleasure in others discomfort when they noticed he never touched anything.

Still, in the privacy of his own office, away from annoyances and prying eyes, he let himself imbibe. A steaming hot cup of sencha sat on his desk. The fine china cup, delicate and thin, gleamed atop its saucer. Heedless, of the temperature, Dark took a sip.

It tasted like ash.

One of his human components, he wasn't quite sure which, had liked to take tea in this setting once upon a time. Steaming hot tea in a window seat with a good book. As much as Dark was annoyed at the bleed over, the habit helped.

As did the readings. Dark knew which one this habit stemmed from. The cards seemed to flow in his hands. Shuffling and dealing and reading. The deck was worn. Creased and faded at the edges, the cards showed their age. Part of him wondered if this was her set when she was alive. Probably not.

As he was going to set the spread of cards, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Dark's hands paused. Then he gathered the cards back into one stack.

"Back again, are we?"

The air grew noticeably colder, the steam rising from his tea that much more pronounced. They were here alright.

With a sigh, he started shuffling again. "Are you going to skulk about or try and wreck my office again?"

His answer was a lamp tumbling to the floor, glass skittering across the hardwood.

"Right." Dark ignored the blatant hostility and cut the deck. The DA, reduced to the presence they were now, would eventually tire of the destruction. They always did. It was only Dark's own aura that kept them from doing physical harm to his body.

The destruction was a nuisance but only that. While he didn't enjoy replacing and repairing his furnishings every other week, he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing any reaction. Eventually, after he heard them gouge long tracks into the floor, they stopped.

He hummed and placed the deck on the desk.

"If you're finished?" Dark gestures to the cards and waited.

The room was still and silent once more. He knew they could move and choose the cards. Whether or not they were shocked or just refusing, he could only guess.

"If you won't," he took up the deck himself, giving it one more shuffle. "I'll ask a question for you, I'm sure both of us have been thinking it. Why do you keep coming back?"

The sound of broken glass crunching under foot. They were seemingly grinding the shards into the floor. That got to them.

"Let's keep it basic, shall we?" He kept going, tone too casual for the situation. "Basic three card pull. Past, present, future, hmm?"

They slipped through his hands as easily as water. Three cards, situated in a line right in front of him. Dark pictured them in his head, brooding as they sat opposite. It almost made him smile.

Delicately, he flipped the first over. A woman wrestling with a beast that might have, once, been a lion. The wearing of time and distortion made it seem otherworldly somehow.

"Strength," he laughed. "Makes sense, I suppose. You always were confident in your skills, even when we were young. Clear choices, clear purpose. I imagine you and everyone else thought you were aiming for bigger and better things, hmm?"

The walls themselves seemed to creak ominously around him. If he didn't know better he might suspect they could bring the ceiling down on top of him.

"Yknow," he said, resting his fingers atop the next card, "this is less the cards talking and more supposed to be the people themselves talking. To put things to words, I suppose. Though you can't quite manage that can you?"

The tea cup beside him abruptly cracked in half. Hot tea leaked out in a small flood, nearly taking the cards with it and soaking into his sleeve. Dark paid it no mind.

"The present now then, shall we?"

This next card was so worn down he very nearly couldn't read the text. Though he'd know the upside down design without it well enough.

"Reverse wheel of fortune," he leaned back, shaking errant drops of scalding tea from his hand. "A run of bad luck. Much as you try you can't control the past, you can't control the present either. Oh my poor, poor friend. I can understand that, to a degree."

He scanned the room, looking for a shimmer, a shadow, anything to indicate where they were. If they actually occupied any sort of space in this reality. The empty, cold office didn't provide him with any insight on that.

"Neither of us were in control then," he said eventually, "as for now…"

Dark flexed his hand. What was once their hand. "I suppose I'll be taking that back for the both of us, hmm?"

No response. Nothing was destroyed in a fit of impotent rage but he knew they were still here. That crawling every present feeling of being watched was still there.

"Stop trying to change things," he murmurs, "I don't pretend to know where you're existing now but there's surely better things for you to be doing. Maybe even actually rest."

Again, nothing. Dark huffed and, without further preamble, flipped the last card. This one made him laugh. As much as he could laugh, anyways.

"Justice? Really?"

The card was fairly self explanatory, as far as other cards in the deck went. The woman depicted held a scale and sword, regal and just. At some point the face was nearly erased, a small tear going through where her eyes would have been. The now cooled tea had soaked into the paper, giving the card a sickly brown green tint.

"You're pinning your hopes on karma, is that it?" He tossed the card back onto the desk. "I don't think so. The world isn't that kind. If anything, I'll be bringing you justice. Bringing down the man that caused all of this is karma enough, I think."

The deck next to him abruptly flew apart, cards pinwheeling in the air and just adding to the mess. Heaving a sigh, Dark got to his feet.

"One of us can keep going with this cycle, old friend," he'd admit, the old moniker was a dig he couldn't help but slip in, "and I think you know who."

If they heard him they chose not to show it. The room was more than still, it was empty. That pressure, the presence in the air was gone. Which left Dark among the ruins of his office once again.

"Same time next week, I suppose," he mutters, plucking a card from the desk and giving it a flick. The sencha had truly soaked the thing. Even with the paper starting to warp and discolor, he could still make out the tower clear as day.

#dark x reader #darkiplier x reader #writersofmark #darkiplier #reader insert #youtuber ego #markiplier ego x reader #ego fanfic #my wriitng

[tmntxthings]

If you’re up for it can we get some comfort headcanons of the Rise!turtles x GN!Reader (separate ofc) who has a bad habit of overworking themselves all the time so the turtles have to take care of them until they feel better?

Thank you!!! I love your writing sm! 🫶

Workaholic

author’s note: FINALLY ! request complete ✅☺️, i hope this was what you had in mind

for those who don’t know @b00tyshakerr9000 they write amazing tmnt content, if you’re looking for a good fic, go and check out their work, i absolutely adore their writing <3

warnings: established relationships, hurt to comfort, fluff, angst, cursing, small wounds

—————————————————————————

Raphael

Raph had been in a relationship with you for a good two years, he was used to your determination it was something he loved and admired about you most

But lately, he noticed it was becoming too much even for you. You were going to college, taking seven classes already, you had come to him wondering what he thought about you getting a job

Raph hadn’t thought too much of it, you explained your reasons wanting some spending money for Raph’s upcoming birthday, he thought it was sweet, “As long as you can fit it into your schedule I don’t see why not,” he had encouraged you since you seemed so excited at the prospect

He saw you less often but the two of you made up quality time with a bunch of text messages, phone calls, and FaceTime calls

Suddenly those stopped happening too… Raph would send texts, and wait hours before you would respond. You’d always apologize for the wait but it seemed to him that the reoccurring excuse was work

He eventually found out that you hadn’t stopped at just one job, but had gotten two more jobs! Three in total on top of all the school work you had?! Raphael didn’t think it was healthy especially when you didn’t need to work so hard

“Y/n can I meet up with you, it’s important” Raph spoke into his phone getting ready to leave the lair to go talk to you in person. He needed you to see how much this was affecting you, how he hadn’t seen you in forever it felt like!

“Of course, it’s been awhile huh? I just got back to my apartment!” Your voice sounded the same, the usual happy chipper that rushed out like you couldn’t wait to tell him something

When Raph knocked on your door, he heard some commotion before the door opened quickly, “Raph!” You jumped up into his arms and he smiled immediately. He had missed you so much, he took a deep breath, and one of his hands cupped the back of your head. Your hair was wet, and you smelled like your shampoo

“I missed you too,” he chuckled as he set you down and you immediately turned walking back into the apartment, Raph followed behind you, closing the door. Your apartment was a mess! This surprised him because you were usually embarrassed about even an unfolded blanket

“How’ve you been Y/n? I haven’t heard from you as much lately,” Raph watched you as you headed to your desk. “Me? Oh I’m pretty busy, but you know getting by, I’m really sorry about not texting as much,”

You started typing something on your computer as he approached he realized it was for one of your classes. “It’s not just that Y/n… why didn’t you tell me you got two more jobs?” Your hands stopped typing. Your shoulders slumping.

“I swear I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.. it just seemed like a good opportunity.. a way to keep building my resume.. I don’t know I just couldn’t say no when they offered,” you sighed and your voice finally matched how you felt.

“Y/n?” Raph touched your shoulder, he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t look at him. Slowly you faced him and his heart clenched, you looked so worn down, your face was thin and lacking its usual glow, you had dark circles around your eyes, hinting at your lack of sleep

“C’mere” Raph gruffed full of emotion. He had known it was getting bad, but seeing it in person hurt much more than he had thought possible. When you got up from your chair, it got even worse

Your nose started bleeding and you swayed from side to side, “Raph?” You said confused as his worry and concern was etched onto his features. Your hand went up to your nose and came away with blood on your fingers, “that’s not good,” you said as your body careened to the floor.

“Y/N!” Raph lunged forward, knocking down your chair to get to you before you hurt yourself further. “I’ve got you don’t worry,” he said as he held you close, carrying you to your bed.

He got tissues, cleaned up your nose and hand. Eventually the nose bleed stopped but he was still on edge. He made you a hearty meal, chicken and rice with some veggies and a tall glass of water.

As you ate he got to work washing dishes and cleaning up your apartment here and there. Each time you got up trying to help he would say, “Don’t you dare! Lay back down and get some rest I’ll be done soon,”

And he was, he came back into your room, watching as your eyes opened and closed sleepily. He got in bed next to you, “How about you put in a two weeks notice?” Raph hummed in question as you snuggled in close to his plastron. “Okay,” you yawned in agreement.

“For both jobs you got without telling me!” Raph clarified and you couldn’t help your sleepy smile. “Thank you Raph, for looking out for me,” you murmured and it warmed his heart. “Of course Y/n that’s what I’m here for” he kissed the top of your head gently as you fell asleep curled up next to him.

Leonardo

Leo had never been happier than the moment you had agreed to become his partner, literally ecstatic, though of course he was too cool to start jumping up and down like Mikey would

No he was way chiller, spending every waking moment portaling out to see you, no matter where you were, one time by accident it had been your bathroom

As soon as you saw the blue sparks behind the shower curtain you knew he was there! To which you shrieked and threw a loofah at him to “GET OUT!”

Still pretty chill… and lately Leo was portaling in on your self-assigned study sessions. “Y/n this is boringggg let’s do something fun, oh! like roller skating”

He was good on a skateboard but he could just imagine a date with you holding onto his arm as the two of went in circles, music playing in the background the both of you smiling, him cracking jokes and you laughing at every one

His eyes had stars in them as he envisioned the date from beginning to end, planning out everything and totally being down for the unexpected too

But you shook your head, “Sorry Leo, I can’t I’ve gotta do this homework” Leo huffed silently as he trudged over to your bed and fell back on it dramatically, one of these days he’d convince you to let loose a little, there was no way he would be able to wait til summer break

A week later and he portaled into your apartment, about to announce his grand entrance when he heard the worst cough in the history of coughs

“Y/n? Are you there? I think I heard a monster or something just now,” he said peering into your room to see you at your desk. You turned to him laughing slightly only to be cut off by another cough, “that would be me,” you rasped

“You sound horrible!” Leo whined in worry as he hovered over you. “Yeah I think I’ve got a cold, hopefully it passes, cause I really can’t afford to-“

Leo knew exactly what you were gonna say, “take a break” he said along with you, and you nodded at him. He sighed shaking his head. “Y/n what if this gets worse? You are only gonna hurt yourself if you don’t get some rest!”

You were still determined to study, “I’ll be okay Leo, I promise” the rest of that night had been filled with coughs, it was hard to ignore and continue to joke around whenever you sounded so sick

The next day Leo portaled in only to find you in a worsened state than yesterday. Tissues piling up on the floor, coughing even more, yet you were still at your desk. Leo gritted his teeth not liking this one bit, it hurt him to see the lack of self-care you had for yourself

He portaled back out, you not noticing with headphones blocking out the sound, if he had to guess it was probably your study playlist. He headed to a drugstore, he would need a bunch of stuff to get you feeling better

Leo bought everything he could think of, all the remedies, three cans of soup, a bunch of drinks he heard other than water, things like gatorade/powerade would boost your system, a thermometer, pain relievers, antibiotics for coughing and runny nose symptoms, a new fluffy blanket, after a couple more things he felt prepared

“Y/n!” Leo said as he portaled in, “oh hey! I was wondering when you wou-“ you stopped mid-sentence as you saw his hands full and brimming with stuff. “Ugh should’ve gotten a bag” Leo grumbled as he dropped a can of soup and it rolled away from him.

“Leo! You didn’t have to get me all of this!” You said feeling bad about how much it must’ve costed. “Shush” he reprimanded as he took your temperature first. “A HUNDRED?!” Leo hollered in fear. “Y/n you better not argue, get in bed right now, please!” Leo half begged

You listened, finally, Leo thought as he got busy, heating up one of the soups in your microwave as he handed you a water and a power drink. Then he got out the fluffy blanket, “doesn’t it feel soft?” Leo smiled as he tucked it in around you, “the softest” you agreed, your heart swelling at how much he cared

After you ate the soup, he gave you medicine and hopped in bed next to you. He sighed,“Y/n you can’t keep doing this, pushing off your health to study… it’s dangerous.” He finally said after thinking about how to word what he thought, “I’m sorry Leo, you were right,”

He smiled, “yeah this totally isn’t the time to say I told you so but… I did tell you so,” you half coughed half laughed at that. “Go to sleep my sickly, I’ll be here for you,” Leo said as he got comfortable

“Thank you Leo, you’re the best,” his ego flew up, up and away. And wouldn’t you know it, he nursed you right back to health! If he wasn’t such a badass crime-fighting turtle he’d be a doctor!

A week later Leo portaled into your room and you were excited to finally go roller skating! You were dressed in jeans and a nice shirt, ready to head out but Leo seemed off. He looked to be holding his breath and would sometimes stop talking midway… it was really weird until you heard it

*Cough* you gasped, “Leo!” He looked back at you sheepishly, “don’t worry it’s just a cough, no heavy symptoms,” he said in a hurry already trying to hold back his next cough until tears swelled in his eyes and he coughed for a second time

Shit! Leo thought as you crossed your arms, “Leonardo Hamato, get in bed! I’ll go start heating up some soup,” Leo groaned and complained about the plans and how it would be forever til you two could get back to them

“Leo don’t worry as soon as you feel better, we’ll go rollerblade the hell out of that rink,” you reassured him, “Really?” He asked with big doe eyes making you giggle, “Yes silly, I promise,”

Donatello

Donnie always thought back on when he had first left a comment under your work. He was a huge fan of your writing, he came across it while scrolling aimlessly one day and always wondered about the coincidences. How he usually didn’t read stories like yours but it had intrigued him, how he never left comments yet there he went typing out his appreciation

If he hadn’t done those things, he wondered if the two of you would’ve ever met. He thought realistically no, probably not, New York was a big city with millions in it, the fact that you just happened to be there too was an amazing feat in itself. Idealistically he thought the two of you were meant to be, so sure, if not then somewhere in the future the stars would align

After many comments, eventually private messages, and phone calls later, the two of you were going steady. You came over to the lair on most days, Donnie loved having you over, no matter what he was doing if you messaged him asking to come or mentioned thinking about coming he would immediately start cleaning

Cleaning every surface even though he and his brothers knew he was the cleanest among them, he couldn’t help it, everything had to be absolutely perfect for your arrival. “Hey Donnie!” he had one of his robotic arms from his shell hold up his phone to his ear as he continued cleaning “Hey Y/n? Are you at the manhole already?”

“No no not yet, I just wanted to give you, I guess a forewarning..” you chuckled to yourself, though Donnie’s disinfectant spray stopped spraying as soon as you said it, he didn’t understand, he waited for you to continue, “what I mean is, is it cool if I come over to write? I can’t get this idea out of my mind and-“

“OF COURSE!” this would be a first! Donnie was excited, he wanted to pick your brain, ask you about the thought process and where you started when story building. Cleaning forgone as he grabbed the phone with his own hand. “Awesome! I just didn’t want to ruin any plans if you had any,” you said, he heard honking and cars flying by in the background

“Nope, no plans! I can work on a few projects I’ve yet to get to while you write,” he said happily, and he could practically hear the smile in your voice, “Sounds lovely! I’ll be there in a few!”

You surprised him with his favorite pizza! Donnie kissed you on your cheek for your thoughtfulness and protected each and every last slice with his life, keeping it away from his brothers, even as you said you didn’t mind sharing, Donnie surely did, it was his pizza that you bought for him

The two of you worked late into the night once settled in with full bellies, when Donnie checked the time he couldn’t believe it, 6 a.m.? And you didn’t even look tired! Donnie yawned as he put down a tool and stretched in his rolling chair, “I think I’m gonna call it a night!” He groaned as he got up heading towards his bed

“Okay! I’ll be there in one moment just gotta find a stopping point,” you were really concentrated on your work Donnie noted, as you didn’t even look up when speaking. “Alright well don’t take too long, it’s pretty late” he commented again and watched you slowly nod

He fell into bed, and before he knew it he was falling asleep, to the sound of you typing in the distance..

Donnie woke up with a start, eyes shot open as his hand reached out feeling for you, he turned over feeling deflated, had you left? Without a goodbye? Without a kiss? He thought this was a first… one he didn’t really like

Then he heard it, fingers typing at an incredible speed. “Oh no,” he said under his breath as he rolled out of bed. Walking into the lab to see your hunched figure over your computer. “Y/n…” Donnie said slowly

“I’m coming I’m coming,” you said not looking up from your screen. As if hours hadn’t already passed. Donnie walked behind you, and grabbed the rolling chair he had made perfectly to your specs. Pulling you away from the table, away from your computer.

“Donnie!” You said in surprise and he twirled the chair to face him. His mouth dropped open as he saw the state of your eyes, you had beautiful (your eye color) eyes. They looked red and puffy, he thought to himself how irritated they must feel, you blinked a couple of times your eyes trying to adjust to something other than your screen lighting

“Y/n, you never came to bed, it’s 1 in the afternoon,” he said softly. It was your turn to look surprised, “but I think a more pressing matter, is how long you’ve been awake… your eyes shouldn’t be this red after just one sleepless night,”

You sighed, he was too smart for his own good, or maybe it was for your benefit. But you felt horrible to have been caught like this, “it’s been a couple of days,” you admitted and Donnie’s eyes bugged out. “How come last night your eyes weren’t as red?” He questioned you but already had a guess

“Eye drops,” you muttered embarrassed. Donnie shook his head as he crouched down. Putting his hands on your knees and rubbed them. “Y/n that’s not very safe, if you deprive yourself of sleep the effects can be devastating,” he could list at least 20 bad things that could happen off the top of his head but kept it to himself, you already looked pretty upset

“I know… I just sometimes when you’re writing and in a groove it’s hard to stop. Especially since I had that writer’s block. I don’t want to stop and not be able to get back into it,” words were pouring out of you and as much as it physically hurt at the moment, tears started streaming down your face

“I understand, but I don’t think it’s worth it,” Donnie said one hand reaching up to wipe away the tears. “You need to sleep, and if you get writer’s block I’ll be there to get you through it,” you gave him a teary-eyed smile and he picked you up bridal style.

He laid you down gingerly and as he turned away to go grab another blanket your hand reached out holding onto one of his arms, “can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” even as you said it your eyes looked so heavy, it was a matter of seconds before you would pass out

Donnie chuckled, “of course” not mentioning how he would’ve been right back. He got into bed next to you and you cuddled close, kissing him on his neck sweetly, “thanks for this,” you murmured into him. Donnie felt his cheeks flush warm, “only for you,” he said softly as you fell asleep.

Michelangelo

Mikey sighed as he looked at his phone. Refreshing it once, twice, three times a charm? Nope. No new messages. He sighed again, louder this time. He felt lonely, he had his brothers of course but that wasn’t the company he was seeking

Ever since you had gotten this job, you had less and less free time, until one day it was completely gone. He felt like he only ever got a good morning and a good night message from you and it hurt

He hoped it was only because of the job and not the two of you drifting apart and as soon as the thought came into his mind he whimpered

No never the two of you were inseparable! He reminded himself, not letting his mind take a dark turn when you were the brightest light in his life, you were perfect, you worked so hard for everything you got in life, Mikey couldn’t be more proud

He boasted all of your achievements to his brothers, to April, and to Pops! Even the petty criminals when they were all tied up, with the sirens blaring in the distance

Mikey sighed again as he refreshed just one more time, hoping against all hope. Nothing! His frown deepened, what should he do? He was getting worried! It couldn’t be healthy to be working so hard for so long! Didn’t your bosses see that?

“I’m heading out!” Mikey called out to no one in particular, a few acknowledgments came from different sources throughout the lair and he climbed up the ladder to the surface. He’d just go check in at your job, make sure everything was okay, one could never be too careful in New York!

It looked to be a hectic day at the adoption facility. Animals of of all kinds being brought in and out by humans and mutants alike. Mikey walked up to the counter, clearing his throat as he asked, “Is Y/n in today?” He gave the person across the counter a big smile

“Y/n? They just left a few minutes ago!” Mikey looked back at them as if they had just said something in another language. “Really? Ah okay thanks!” He quickly left, pulling out his phone to call you.

On the third ring he groaned, you weren’t picking up! His worry was increasing, he hoped you had made it back to your home by now as he dashed down the sidewalk to your place. He had to call out apologizes as he pushed past others or turned a corner and almost ran into somone

He rang your doorbell twice as he leaned down holding onto his knees. He had ran the whole way there! Mikey was becoming impatient and started knocking on the door calling out your name. “It’s Mikey!” He added on just in case you maybe forgot his voice (it hadn’t been that long)

The door opened suddenly and Mikey looked down to breath a sigh of relief, you were here and not still out on the street possibly in danger! But that was as far as his relief went because as you opened the door wider Mikey saw long gashes along your arms

“What happened!” He asked immediately grabbing at your arms to have a closer look. They looked so painful! “We had some issues at work,” you sighed with exhaustion. Issues was an understatement Mikey thought as he turned your arm over gently only to find more horrible cuts.

“Tell me everything” Mikey prompted as he stepped into your apartment and kicked the door shut with his heel. You explained how a coworker of yours hadn’t been careful enough when and a couple of animals had gotten out and started fighting. You couldn’t help yourself when you heard the commotion and went over to help them. Eventually they just let you handle the whole situation. You sighed as Mikey continued to listen

“These other cuts are from scared or vicious critters, I’m usually the one to care for those too,” Mikey frowned, “Why are you the one who has to do it?” You shrugged explaining how you never really told anyone no when they asked for help. It sounded like your coworkers weren’t the best people, to him it seemed they were taking advantage of your kindness.

It made him sad because it was hurting you, these cuts should be shared not put all on to one person! “I wonder if they’re hiring,” as the thought had passed his mind he realized he had spoken it aloud. You smiled kindly at him, “I can ask”

He wondered why he hadn’t thought of this before! It would be like hitting two birds with one stone, being able to protect you from the crazy animals while also being able to spend more time with you. It was perfect! “Alright, I’m gonna go get you some cream and bandages I’ll be right back!”

Mikey said as he let go of your arm and turned to head back to the door. Only he heard your footsteps following him, he twisted his head to look over his shoulder to see you reaching out your hand to him, “Can I come with you?” you didn’t need to explain further, he knew exactly how you felt. You had missed him just as much as he had missed you

“If you’re feeling up to it!” Mikey nodded and took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss the back of it. You blushed at the sweet gesture. It was a quick trip to the convenience store around the corner before the two of you were back in your apartment.

You were sitting perched on the side of your bed as Mikey applied the cream, you couldn’t help but hiss a couple of times from the sting, he then wrapped up your cuts in the bandages. By the time he was done your forearms looked like a mummy’s and you couldn’t help but giggle.

Mikey smiled at the sound and sat down next to you on your bed. “Until I get the job, can you promise to be more careful?” Mikey leaned back until his shell rested against your comforter, “I was worried about you today,”

You leaned back onto the bed as well, turning your face to the side to look at him, he did the same, “I promise to be more careful,” you said sincerely not wanting him to worry anymore. Then you leaned forward quickly and gave his lips a peck, leaning back just as swiftly

“Thank you Mikey, for caring about me,” Mikey blinked in surprise, he hadn’t expected the kiss, “I’ll always care about you,” He gave you a mega watt smile as he went in for seconds, he met your lips just as you had done, quick and light

You were blushing and so was he, as the two of you continued to smile and gaze into each other’s eyes lovingly

#tmnt headcanons #rise tmnt headcanons #rise turtles #rise tmnt movie #after the movie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2022 #leonardo hamato #rise leonardo #rise donatello #rise raphael #rise michelangelo #tmnt #tmnt fandom #turtle bros #leonardo #donnatello #mikey #raph #michelangelo #raphael #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x reader

[a-mere-dream]

how about instead of returning to the sect after finding the qiu manor in ashes, yqy runs off to become a dilf, pushing back his reunion with sqq by a number of years?

"Remember, parent-teacher meetings are tomorrow," Shang Qinghua said.

"Thanks for telling me, Shang-shidi," Shen Qingqiu ground out. "I never would have remembered it on my own."

A blatant lie, and they both knew it. Shen Qingqiu had been looking forward to this once-yearly event with all the enthusiasm of a man send to die.

In his opinion, it was one of the most asinine, useless, irritating days of the year; parents who thought to tell him how to do his job as Peak Lord, or those who came all the way to Cang Qiong Sect and then spend not a second asking after their child, instead choosing to spend their time trying to make Connections.

But no, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t just run off, because the Sect Leader never felt bad about levering their power to keep him on Qing Jing. "The shipments of paints will unfortunately be delayed, but if you make nice with the parents of that-and-that kid, I'm sure I can do something to help you," pah.

This year he had picked up three new disciples too. Siblings, though they did not look it. A moment of weakness; there had been something in the way they had been standing, that reminded him off... No matter.

*  *  *

He had been able to keep himself from spending time with the parents for most of the day simply by instructing his eldest disciples to lead them around while he stood to the side, loftily waving his fan and emanating an aura of You are not worthy enough to talk to me.

This did, unfortunately, bring with it the fact he couldn’t take out a book or sketching pad lest someone take that as an opportunity to strike up conversation with him. And so he had spent the day watching the people around him.

Most of it was a familiar sight; dolled-up men and women swanning around, flaunting their wealth and ignoring their children. Their robes cost as much as the yearly budget for paper, and that was without even speaking of the various trinkets they decorated themselves with.

One man stood out; his robes were old but well taken care of, patched up with so much care the stitching was near invisible. He hadn’t been able to do much about the washed-out colours, though.

He was surrounded by the three new disciples, each clamouring for his attention, pulling him to and fro to show him the best places on Qing Jing. He ooh'ed and ah'ed at all the right moments, an indulgent smile on his sun-worn but surprisingly youthful face.

He was holding something at his side; something thin and long, wrapped up in rags to obscure it from the world.

The girl--Wen Ming--pulled at his free arm, and without needing any more words, the man swooped her up to sit on his shoulder. He didn’t struggle in the least, acting like she weighed nothing at all.

Shen Qingqiu's eyes were drawn to his biceps without his consent.

... Strong.

The moment he noticed what he was doing, he hurriedly averted his eyes.

It was that moment, when he was silently berating himself, that the man chose to come up to meet him. His voice was a warm, low thing; combine it with the faintly familiar (and outrageously handsome) face he had, Shen Qingqiu was ashamed to admit he barely heard a word he said in favour of listening to the comforting rumble.

A sentence ended in an upward turn of his voice, snapping Shen Qingqiu out of his haze. "Could you repeat that question?"

The man smiled. "I was telling Master Shen how glad I was that Xiao Ming, Yuan'er, and Xiao Wei seemed to be doing well. I was wondering if next year I could be allowed to bring their siblings up to meet them? They miss them dearly."

Shen Qingqiu blinked. "More children?" slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Luckily the man didn’t take offense. "Yes," he said, sounding immeasurably fond. "Six permanent siblings, and a dozen or so that only stop by every once in a while."

Did this man have an addiction, or what?

... Shen Qingqiu was tempted to agree, if only because it'd be really funny to see those men and women having to deal with what he was fairly sure was a bunch of former street children.

Enter a comedy of errors where Shen Qingqiu refuses to admit he wasn’t listening when Yue Qi introduced himself

They converse through letters, somehow still not learning of the other’s identity, and grow fond of each other

One drunken night, Shen Qingqiu writes a letter where he proposes the man marries him so Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have to deal with raising the children anymore, so he can just teach higher level skills

Yue Qi agrees

It is only halfway during the wedding preparations that they realise who the other is

The children had figured it out before the two even met each other for the first time, but thought they just didn’t like to talk about it

#svsss #qijiu #Placeholder Prompts Tag #im sure he was really anxious to send his kids to cqs given his own experience there #but this man has a complex about being controlling so i couldn’t see him keeping them from going #my man has. so many kids. and a new one pops up every time you turn your back #single dad yue qingyuan rights #and theyre all suspicious of sqq. it takes years before the final girl chooses to trust him

[bleedingectoplasm]

Three Strikes, You’re Out

Happy Truce to @modordracena! I’m honored that I got to be your backup Truce gifter this year! All of your prompts were so wonderful, but once I read the prompt “Danny/Sam no one knows” I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head. There’s also a sprinkle of the prompt “Eldritch Danny angst” as a treat. I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 here.

Strike One

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kitty,” Danny hisses, pressing antiseptic to his freshly split lower lip. He locks eyes with himself in the mirror, taking in the blood trickling from his nose and the bruises blooming under his eyes. He wouldn’t be shocked if Kitty busted his nose. Again. Her ectoplasmic acrylics don’t stop her from having a mean left hook.

“Danny?” A familiar voice travels softly through the bathroom door. “Are you home?”

Danny’s eyes blow wide with panic and his breath catches in his throat. A furtive glace down at his phone screen confirms his fears. It’s Wednesday. Date night.

Fuck.

“Hey, Sam,” Danny croaks out. He winces as he hears how weak his voice sounds before clearing his throat to try again, ignoring the taste of iron and acid in his saliva. “Hey, Sam, hi. Gimme a sec to finish up in here?”

“For sure,” the wooden doors in his cheap apartment are so thin that her voice is hardly muffled. He can hear the creaking of springs as Sam settles on his worn-out sofa. “You didn’t answer the door, so I just let myself in with the spare key.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he calls back, haphazardly shoving gauze and Neosporin and Band-Aids back into his first aid kit. “I just need one second, sorry.”

“No rush!”

Danny snaps his first aid kit shut and hides it away under his bathroom sink, covering it with spare soap and the box of Tampons that Sam keeps at his place. Normally, he isolates himself for a few hours after getting busted up and lets his healing factor do its thing. Sam may see a few stray bruises here or there, but he can brush those off as the result of a new skateboarding trick gone wrong. If his injuries are really bad, he’ll send a Sam text asking for a raincheck and begging her forgiveness before spending the day sleeping, allowing his bones to weave themselves back together while he snores. Unfortunately, his inability to keep track of time has finally caught up to him. His usual evasion tactics are completely useless now that Sam is already inside his apartment.

Danny gives himself a moment to wallow in self-pity. Before he can psych himself out of it, he snaps his broken nose back into place with practiced fluidity. Unfortunately, the quick motion triggers a new fountain of blood spurting from his nose. He groans a bit as he grabs a handful of tissues and attempts to blot the evidence away. After a few gentle wipes, he peers at his reflection once more. The face staring back at him looks just as bad as it did thirty seconds ago. With a heavy sigh, Danny accepts his fate. No amount of time sulking in the bathroom will make his face look any better, so he might as well head out. No use in prolonging Sam’s inevitable wrath.

Sam starts talking as soon as she hears the bathroom door open. “So, our options for a movie are Saw III and…” she trails off as Danny rounds the corner and comes into view. Her mouth falls open slightly, and then closes, and then opens again.

“Hey, Sam,” Danny offers weakly.

“What the fuck is wrong with your face?” Sam gasps.

“Thanks, babe, you look great too.”

“Danny,” Sam says sternly, “be serious, for once.” Her expression softens slightly as she takes in his injuries. She lifts her hand, and her fingertips hover over his bruised cheek. After a moment of hesitation, she runs her thumb over his broken lip and wipes away a bead of fresh blood. Danny winces, and Sam quickly retracts her hand, the tenderness in her eyes giving way to bewilderment.

Danny chuckles nervously, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Would you believe me if I said I walked into a pole?”

Sam’s eyebrows raise skyward.

Danny dips his head, allowing his messy hair to block Sam from view. Thank the Ancients he ignored Jazz’s suggestion to get a haircut. Without his bangs to shield him, he’s pretty sure the power of Sam’s withering glare would melt him.

For just a moment, Danny toys with the idea of telling her the truth. He always does, in situations like this. He hates lying to Sam, hates the guilty squeeze of his stomach and the pulsing fear of getting caught. In the years since his accident, Danny’s relationship with the truth has become fluid, at best. At worst, it feels like he’s being held hostage by his own lies. He’s in too deep now. How would he even begin to undo his web of deceit?

Briefly, he imagines a conversation where he finally tells Sam everything. He pictures pulling Sam into a chair, sitting down across from her, and opening the floodgates: Hey, Sam, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I actually kinda died alone in my parent’s basement when I was fourteen. But I’m also sorta alive. I’m some hybrid freak of nature that straddles the barrier between life and death, and my mere existence challenges the tenants of physics that form your perception of the world. That’s right, for the last decade, I’ve been some sort of horrific reanimated corpse. Yeah, you’ve been making out with a dead guy on the regular. Oh, also, I’m Phantom, you know, the ghost kid who hunts his own kind? I’ve just accepted that nearly every other day some ghost will try to kill me the rest of the way. Yeah, yeah, I’ve been lying to you about every aspect of my half-life since we started dating. So, we cool?

It's laughable, really. If he told Sam the truth now, she would never trust him again. Or even worse, she may not believe him. Maybe she would suggest he talks to one of Jazz’s therapist friends or think he’s telling some sort of twisted joke about his own mortality. Danny can take a lot of hits, but Sam laughing in the face of his nightmarish existence would almost certainly destroy him. Danny brushes aside the possibility of honesty in favor of exploring his well-worn list of excuses. Like a slot machine, the reels inside Danny’s mind spin until the arrow finally settles on something halfway believable.

“I got into a fight,” he says finally. The best lies are based on a kernel of truth. “I stopped by Nasty Burger after work, and Dash was being an asshole and…yeah. Things got ugly.”

Sam throws her hands up in disbelief. “You got into a fight with Dashiell Baxter, Danny? What are you, fifteen?”

“I know, I know-”

“We’re not in middle school anymore, Danny! You’re twenty-four, for fucks sake!” Sam plows over Danny’s weak attempt to defend himself. “Not that the weird toxic masculinity vibe you and Dash had in middle school was ever okay, but it’s really not okay now. People won’t do the boys will be boys handwave thing anymore. You could have been arrested, Danny, did you even think about that?”

Danny interjects when Sam takes a breath, trying to deescalate the situation before she gains momentum, “I know, Sam, I know. You’re right, it was stupid, and I didn’t think it through, and you’re right.”

At Danny’s concession, Sam shifts from soapbox mode to a defeated slump. He thinks it helped that he used her favorite phrase twice in the same sentence. She takes a step back from him, crossing her arms and taking a good hard look at him before shaking her head slightly. Danny’s not sure what she was looking to find in him, but it seems he was lacking.

The worst part of hiding Phantom from Sam is when she buys into his story. Her perception of him becomes tarnished, transforming because of something he never did. The disappointment drips from her expression, and shame and guilt and embarrassment all mix into something heavy in Danny’s chest. In moments like this, he wonders what Sam thinks of him. Is the truth is more or less monstrous than the ever-repentant version of himself that lives in Sam’s head?

“Would it make it any better if I told you I got my ass handed to me?” He chokes out, desperate to diffuse the tension in the air.

Much to his relief, Sam huffs out a little laugh. “Honestly? Yeah.” She runs her fingers through her hair with ferocity, like taming her short black bob will also smooth out her frayed nerves. “There’s a joke about justice in there somewhere, but too busy thinking about how stupid you are to find it.”

Danny grins, ignoring the twinge of pain that comes from his split lip. “I’ll give you joke credits anyway, because I’m a generous guy.”

Sam rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but the gesture communicates fondness rather than judgement. After one final sigh, she strides over to him, the heavy sound of combat boots on hardwood underscoring every step. She catches his wrist in her hands, tugging him towards the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up, dummy.”

Danny nods and follows along silently, grateful to be spared the lecture that he most certainly deserves.

He perches on the edge of the tub, and Sam begins to gingerly wipes at his nose with an alcohol wipe, her fingers moving deftly as she cleans his wounds.

Sam’s soft voice breaks the uneasy silence. “Danny?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, but you need to get your act together,” Sam says quietly.

Quiet is not Sam’s natural state. It puts him on edge, ringing in his ears like a warning for an unknown impending disaster. “I know,” he says simply, “I know I do.”

Strike Two

As she pulls into the parking lot, Sam leans her head out of the car window and hollers, “Hey there, hot stuff!”

Danny looks up from his phone and smiles at the sight of his girlfriend in her little electric car. He tucks his phone in his pocket and hauls himself off the park bench. “Sam Manson?” He calls back, “Catcalling someone? The irony is delicious.”

“Nah, I’ve earned my fair share of misandry.”

Danny slides into the passenger seat already perfectly adjusted for his lanky legs. Sam’s chipped black fingernails are tapping on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the screamo song she’s playing. “How was work, dude?” Sam asks as Danny plops his computer bag in the empty backseat.

“Oh, fine. I spent most of the day teaching our undergrad interns how to not destroy the 3-D printer. I really gotta start applying for grad school so I can start doing some real engineering.”

“Uh huh,” Sam agrees, eyes glued to the road in front of her as she approaches a red light.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s sick that the Amity Park NASA field office had any openings at all after we graduated, but, man, I’m tired of being stuck on babysitting duty.”

“Good, good.” Sam replies nonsensically, clearly not paying attention.

“I mean, just yesterday, I chopped off my left foot and gave it to Neil Armstrong, and he barely even said thank you!”

“Capitalism is a drag,” Sam is still tapping the wheel, but she’s now tapping in a random frenzy rather than to the beat of the music.

Danny waits until the car is completely stopped before he nudges Sam’s shoulder and turns down the music. Sam glances over at him quickly in confusion before looking back at the traffic light.

“What?”

“Spit it out,” Danny says fondly.

“What?”

“I know you, dude. You’re jittery, you’re having trouble focusing. You’ve got something you want to say, so out with it already.”

Sam scoffs. “You don’t know me. I’m an unknowable anarchist being of chaos.” She pauses for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip. “But in this specific instance, you may know me a little bit.”

Danny chuckles and reaches across the center console to take Sam’s hand in his own. “I’ve had a lot of time to study the habits of one Samantha Ida Manson. What’s up?”

Sam shoots him a sideways glance, and the golden sunlight pouring through the windshield perfectly illuminates the light blush dusting her cheeks. “You’re going to think its lame,” she whines.

Danny shrugs. “Since when do you care what other people think?”

“I mean, I care what you think.” Sam shrugs like the words mean nothing to her, but Danny understands their significance. He knows how hard Sam trained herself to not let anyone in, the willpower she exercised to ignore the spiteful comments people make about her. He remembers the cruel whispers and giggles of their classmates as Sam walked down the hallways of Casper. Sam spent her childhood building walls, and Danny is eternally grateful that she has carved out an entrance just for him. He only knows her because she has allowed him to, and it is an honor that he doesn’t take lightly. However, pointing out Sam’s vulnerability would almost certainly cause her to shut down, so he settles for squeezing Sam’s hand more tightly in his own, hoping the love and gratitude he feels transfers through touch alone.

Sam squeezes back, and after a moment of consideration, she asks, “Promise you won’t laugh?”

With his free hand, Danny traces a small X over his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” He takes a moment to congratulate himself on the pun. It’s tragic that he’s the only person in on the joke.

“Okay,” Sam sighs, pressing her foot on the gas as the light turns green. “So, a while back, I entered this meet a celebrity charity raffle thing. I figured there was no universe where I would win, because your chronically bad luck is fucking contagious, but I figured it didn’t matter because it was like my all-time favorite charity, but today I got an email today that I won!” Sam’s words pick up speed as the car does, excitement propelling her onwards. “I told myself I didn’t care about the contest that much, which I realize now is a total lie because I’m beyond stoked that I won. Maybe it’s an inner child thing, or something? I’m sure your sister would have some thoughts on it, I may just text her. Anyways, I get to meet him, and the money went to a great cause, and I get a plus one, so we can go together!”

“That’s great, Sam!” Danny says enthusiastically. He’s loves when Sam gets fired up like this. He could listen to her talk for days on end without getting bored. “What charity was it for, and who’s the celebrity?”

“The proceeds go to Earthjustice, the environmental law nonprofit I interned for last summer, remember? And the celebrity is…ugh, this is so embarrassing. Remember, you promised not to laugh.”

Sam was right about one thing- Danny is deeply, tragically unlucky. Dread pools in the pit of his stomach as soon as Sam reveals the name of the charity, but he pushes past the growing lump in his throat to ask, “Who is the celebrity?”

Her eyes are dancing with glee, and she giddily wriggles around in her seat, her happiness too large to contain in her body. “Phantom!” She practically shouts the name. “I’m going to meet Phantom! I mean, what are the odds that he would champion the same cause I do?”

The odds were certainly made much higher after Phantom’s girlfriend has spent all of last summer pouring her heart and soul into Earthjustice, coming home beaming with pride and satisfaction despite the long hours and unforgiving workload.

When Action News approached Phantom with an offer to host a meet and greet raffle for a charity of his choice, he was initially taken aback. It was almost inconceivable to Danny that anyone would want to meet Phantom, would be willing to spend an hour in a room with a creature that's all protruding joints and too long teeth and nearly translucent skin. During his ghostly vigilante career, Danny caught on to the fact that no one in Amity Park is quite able to make direct eye contact with him Phantom. Still, Lance Thunder was insistent that people wanted to meet Phantom face to face. Danny wasn’t convinced until Lance used the magic words: Phantom could help people. Then, Danny’s obsession took over, and it became a no brainer. Of course, he had to do the meet and greet, it was for charity. Never mind his fragile ego, he could handle the pulsing horror in a civilian's aura for an hour. Besides, anyone entering the raffle is subjecting themselves to him, right? He surely can’t be blamed for any post meet and greet night terrors. Sure, if one of his old schoolmates won the raffle he’d have to be careful to not give away his identity, but it was worth the risk. Getting to pick the charity of his choice was an added bonus, a chance to do something for Sam, even if she could never know that Danny was the one who did it. He had felt good about himself at the time, excited that he could finally feel connected to Sam while doing work as Phantom.

No good deed goes unpunished, it seems.

Danny doesn’t realize that his hold on Sam’s hand has become practically bone crushing until she pulls away from him, flexing her fingers to release the stiffness his tight grip caused.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chokes out, jerkily running his hands through his hair. “I, uh, yeah. That’s great, Sam. Really.”

A stiffness settles over Sam as she curls her shoulders upwards, drawing into herself. “What?” She asks. The word is sharp enough to draw blood.

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” Sam roughly hits the button on the stereo, cutting off the music. The silence is stifling. “You’re being weird. Is this a jealousy thing? Because I had a crush on Phantom in fucking middle school? I’ve been over that for years, Danny.”

“What?" Danny sputters. "You had a crush on him?”

“Oh, please, don’t play dumb now. I saw the way you’d stiffen up whenever I talked about him as kids. Admit it, my admiration for Phantom makes you uncomfortable.”

The absurdity of this conversation is overwhelming Danny’s senses. He feels like he’s jumped off the deep end, and water is muffling his hearing and blurring his vision. In his disorientation, he blurts out the first thought that comes to mind. “What’s there to admire about him? He’s grotesque.”

“God, you really are your parents’ child. He’s not ‘grotesque,’ he’s a ghost. He can’t help what he looks like. And he protects the town. Who wouldn’t admire that?”

“I am not the same as my parents, okay? I’m not saying he’s evil, just that he’s not all that nice to look at.”

Sam scoffs. “If you’re settling for attacking his appearance, you really must be jealous. That’s beneath you, Danny.”

The accusation stings, in part because it’s not entirely off base. In the past, Danny’s jealousy for his alter ego had been almost suffocating. As a teenager, he loathed that his ghostly persona was smothered with attention while human Danny had to scrape and claw and beg for an ounce of affection from his family and peers. He was furious that people only noticed him once he died. It took years of struggling with his identity and self-confidence to outgrow that envy.

“I’m not jealous, okay? Phantom is the only green-eyed monster in this situation.” He can’t hide the bitterness in his voice. Once again, Phantom is rearing his head in Danny and Sam’s relationship, warping Sam’s perception of Danny into the worst possible version of himself: a petty, possessive man who feels enough ownership over his girlfriend to prioritize his discomfort over her joy. As much as he hates to admit it, her conclusion is completely logical given the information she’s working from. All she knows is that her boyfriend got upset after she said she planned to visit a former celebrity crush. She has no way of knowing that said former crush is currently sitting in the passenger seat of her car. Danny takes a deep breath, steeling himself to bridge the gap between him and Sam that Phantom has rent open, and tucks aside his swirling self-hatred to refocus the conversation at hand. “I just can’t go with you. I already have plans that day.”

Sam’s quick response is laced with accusation: “I haven’t even told you what day the meet and greet is.”

Damn Sam and her lawyerly logical reasoning. Desperately, he reaches for a coherent explanation, and tries to sound calm and casual as he says, “I know what day it is; I saw the advertisements for the contest online. April 6th, right?”

He can feel Sam considering his words in the stretch of silence that follows, twisting them around in her mind and holding them up to the light to find any cracks of dishonesty. As she lifts her wrist to flick on her turn signal, Danny is dimly reminded of visiting Anubis in the Infinite Realms as he places the hearts on the scale of judgement, weighing souls against Maat’s feather of truth and justice. Normally, Danny would find the idea of Sam holding his heart in her hands to be somewhat romantic. In this moment, it is nauseating.

“Okay,” the final verdict rings out, “I guess that makes sense.” Danny sags in momentary relief before Sam presents him with another challenge. “You already have something on your calendar for April 6th? That’s, like, two months away.” The hurt in her voice is more apparent now that the venom has faded.

“Yeah, I totally blanked on telling you, but I have a work trip that weekend.” The lie slips comfortably from between his lips, even though he hates playing the part of the flaky boyfriend. Or is he even playing a part anymore? Maybe this is just who he is now. Maybe Sam’s perception of him is more accurate than he realizes. Maybe Phantom’s physical distortions are imprinting on Danny’s personality, morphing him into someone unrecognizable.

“Okay,” Sam says again. She sounds tired. Hollow.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” He knows the apology isn’t enough even as he offers it.

“You can’t even try to get out of the trip? This is like…a big deal to me.”

“You know how important this job is. It’s-”

“The steppingstone to grad school. I know, I know. I’m sorry, I should be more supportive.”

Oh, Ancients, now Sam is apologizing to him? After Danny spent the last few minutes disappointing and deceiving her? His gaze flicks around the car, desperate to look at anything else besides Sam’s slumped shoulders and vacant expression. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, but he turns his head away at break neck speed. He doesn’t want to look himself in the eye.

“I get it, you’re excited. Maybe Tucker is free?”

“Yeah. I’ll ask him.”

Sam reaches out to turn on the stereo once more, the pounding heavy metal a stark contrast to the solemness that has settled over the car. Danny reaches to take Sam’s hand in his own once more, trying to offer an olive branch of affection. When Sam ignores his extended palm, he settles for picking at his cuticles. He peels at his skin absentmindedly, only returning his attention to his fingers when he feels a sticky bead of blood pool on top of his fingernail. Fitting, really. Danny never notices how much damage he’s done until it’s too late.

Strike Three

The signs were all there. Danny just didn’t see them. It’s not that he ignored them, exactly, it’s more like he was blinded by the light Sam brings into every room. The arguments and awkward moments were buried under ecstasy, until all he could remember about their relationship was giggling through kisses and Sam’s delicate hold on his fingers while she paints his nails and how his hand fits perfectly into the dainty dip of Sam’s waist.

Danny separated out his fuckups and fibs from the rest of his relationship, shoving them into the ‘Phantom’ box in the back of his mind. He forgot Sam doesn’t have that luxury, that she doesn’t realize there’s a third person sabotaging their relationship. She doesn’t have the benefit of the truth.

“This isn’t working.” A relationship retrospective runs through Danny’s mind as soon as the words leave Sam’s mouth. He analyzes his mistakes with the same sharp precision he uses to identify the weaknesses of his ghostly enemies. Adrenaline courses through his veins far more intensely than it ever has before, even when he’s been on the other side of a gun. Surely, there must be a way to fix this. It can’t be too late. He can still save the day.

“Sam, can we talk about this?” Danny can hear the panic in his own voice.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, Danny.” Sam’s words are careful, rehearsed. “This has been coming for a while. Today was the final nail in the coffin. We just aren’t compatible, I think.”

“Look, I know today was bad-”

Sam’s snort cuts off his pathetic attempt at an explanation. “Bad? Danny, you missed my law school graduation. ‘Bad’ is the understatement of the century.” She looks away from him, like meeting his gaze is painful. “I spent the ceremony staring at the empty seat next to my parents. I waited for you, and you didn’t come. It was the most important day of my life, and you couldn’t be bothered to show up.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Danny groans, scrubbing at his face with superhuman strength, the sting of his skin grounding him. For the past few hours, Skulker had Danny trapped in a net like a fucking animal. He escaped only a few minutes ago, and his feral instincts are still buzzing at the base of his skull. His brain is chanting that he’s trapped trapped trapped cornered cornered cornered that he needs to escape this fucking nightmare. He’s too wound up to think of a good excuse for his absence. “I let you down, I know I did. I didn’t mean to miss it, honest, I just…I lost track of time. I turned my phone off to focus on work, and by the time I looked at the clock again, it was too late.”

Sam sniffles, then presses the heel of her palms into her eyes, like she’s trying to push her tears back into her skull. When she speaks again, her voice is thick. “That’s the worst explanation you could possibly give. You couldn’t even make up a lie about an emergency? You just forgot? That’s the best you can say for yourself?”

“Sam, I would never lie to you.”

Her laugh is biting. “Get real, Danny. How dumb do you think I am?”

The world feels like it’s crumbling underneath his feet. “I…what?”

“Come on, man,” Sam says, exasperated, “Your fight with Dash? Your work trip? I’m not an idiot. I knew you were keeping something from me. I figured you would tell me when you’re ready, but you never did. I don’t know if you just don’t trust me, or-”

“No,” he says sharply, “never that. I trust you implicitly. More than anyone in the world.”

“Then what is it, Danny? I know you have a right to privacy in a relationship, that’s what all the stupid couple therapy websites said when I looked for advice, but we crossed the line between privacy and secrets a long time ago.”

“You…you’ve been looking at couples therapy websites?”

“That’s not the point! The point is that I need a partner I can rely on. A partner who doesn’t hide things for me. A partner who lets me into every aspect of their life.” Sam’s voice breaks on the last word. She takes a breath to steady herself before forging ahead. “I let you in, Danny. I showed you all the ugliest parts of myself, and I told you things I never told anyone. Why can’t you do the same?”

“It’s not that simple. I know how pathetic that sounds, but it’s just not. I need you to believe me.”

“How could I possibly believe you? I feel like barely even know you anymore.”

“You know me,” he insists. “You’re the only person who knows me.”

Sam sighs the long-suffering sigh of a weary warrior finally admitting defeat. “Then maybe no one knows you, Danny. Because I certainly don’t.”

He can feel his heart breaking in his chest. When Sam’s palms settle on top of his shoulders, Danny practically whimpers, but he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed at his own desperation. Instead, Danny leans into her warm touch, all too aware that she may never hold him like this again.

She shakes him a bit, like she’s trying to knock some sense into him. Like she, too, wants him to make this right. “I’m giving you one more chance. Where were you today?”

Danny wants to tell her the truth. He really, truly does. But if he told Sam the truth, then she would know. She would know that he isn’t human, that he’s a monster, an eldritch abomination masquerading as a small-town superhero. Realization hits Danny with nearly violent force: Sam’s right. She doesn’t know him. No one does. No one knows him because no one knows Phantom, and no one knows Phantom because Danny doesn’t want them to. Danny hates Phantom, hates looking at his ghoulish features in the mirror and the terror he strikes into the souls of the living. He hates that nothing satisfies him more than the slick feeling of another ghost’s ectoplasm on his knuckles, hates the ever-growing deadly power that simmers within his core, hates the prickling fear that one day he won’t be able to stop himself from going too far. He hates that his parents were right all along: ghosts are twisted, vile creatures. Danny is the ultimate proof of that. Danny doesn’t want Sam to know him, because if she did, she’d hate him too. She must. Wouldn’t anyone? How could anyone not hate him as much as he hates himself?

Words won’t come. There’s no explanation he can give. Danny squeezes his eyes shut, and slowly shakes his head. Sam sighs once more as she peels her hands off his shoulder, and Danny mourns the loss of contact as her residual body heat fades into the cold air.

“I thought so. I had hoped that you would…” The sound dies in her throat. Sam wraps her arms around herself and straightens her back. Danny watches as the maelstrom of swirling emotions in Sam’s eyes are covered by a mask of cool indifference. “I’ll see you around, Danny.”

Watching Sam walk away doesn’t quite feel real. Danny's eyes covered in a watery film that makes everything around him look hazy. He pauses for a moment, waiting for Amorpho to jump out from behind a bush or Spectra to reveal that she’s trapped him in some fucked up fear landscape. But the plot twist never comes. It’s just him, standing in a streetlight outside of Sam’s house, alone. Living in a reality of his own creation.

#danny phantom #amethyst ocean #sam manson #danny fenton #2022 holiday truce #no one knows au #i just think dannys inner turmoil in this au is so so so interesting- especially if he thinks hes a monster #thanks for reading! i hope you enjoy! #ecto writes

[xiaophobic]

‧₊˚.𖧧. START OF SPRING!

𖤐 01. — including! — (in order) diluc, thoma, xiao, albedo, & arataki itto <3

genre/warnings! 𖤐 02. — modern!au, fluff, a whole bunch of meet-cutes, itto is so stupid but it’s okay please accept the pick-up line, diluc’s kind of doesn’t make sense BUT DON’T THINK ABOUT IT TOO MUCH, they get progressively longer? sorry LOL, xiao’s is an nyc train station if you couldn’t tell ^^

༉‧₊˚. SYNOPSIS! — spring symbolizes change, growth, and prosperity; the start of something new. thus, below are the moments in which the season of spring began for the two of you, and in turn the blossoming of your relationship.

#. DILUC — !

it starts in tending to your garden…

beaming rays of sunlight drape themselves along your skin, and you smile at how the changed weather welcomes you. in any other situation this heat might’ve been frustrating, but it’s the first of its yearly debut. it’s refreshing. bringing yourself to immediately hate it is practically impossible.

you find yourself fitting in your worn gardening gloves. it’ll be nice to mend the likely overgrown vines and fall back into the rewarding routine. who knows, maybe you’ll find something new blossoming?

across from your quaint garden, you spot a fairly unfamiliar man tending to the clusters of grape vines adjacent to your property. you conclude he must be your neighbor, diluc ragnvindr, who you’ve come to know as the owner of a specific winery somewhere on the outskirts of the city through passing conversations with his warehouse manager. though, you’ve rarely ever caught glimpse of him before, and based on how striking he appears from your view, you’d definitely remember if you had.

maybe it’s the extra dopamine from all the sunshine you’re getting, but you decide to take the leap.

“good morning, mr. ragnvindr!” you offered, loud enough for him to hear.

surprise is evidently a good look on him as you can feel your face heat up in a way you can’t possibly blame on the weather. his hardened stare quickly dissolves at seeing it’s just you, his pretty neighbor whom he’s been silently pining over for months. a foreign flutter ignites in his chest, a feeling that he’ll momentarily blame the pollen intake for.

yet, he waves back to you and you smile so brightly it almost hurts to look at, and pollen can no longer take the fall for his butterflies.

#. THOMA — !

it starts in stopping to get breakfast…

you lead your life differently when you’re happy. when the clouds finally part to reveal the sun and mother nature caresses your face as a greeting after a long rest, you smile and get out of bed just a bit earlier. the wind sounds like a song from your adolescent years and your lighter clothes feel like home. and it’s warm out!

so, with your newfound “early bird gets the worm” mentality, your phone’s clock confirms that you’ve got time to spare before committing to your day’s responsibilities. and if you remember correctly, there is this new café you’ve been meaning to try.

stepping through the doors of the new establishment, you marvel at how vibrant its decor is. it’s beautiful, enough to already solidify for yourself that you’re absolutely going to frequent it. however, in the center of it all might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

he stands in front of you in line, his toned back showing through his thin white shirt. he’s on the phone and you blush at the sweetness of his voice despite it not even being directed toward you. he turns to thank the barista for his drink and his eyes glisten and god, if he’s here then this café doesn’t have to hesitate in putting you down as a regular.

you’re ordering for yourself before you know it, the cashier having to repeat their kind “hello, how may i help you today?” to snap you out of your daze. the aroma of their goods is astounding, the baked treats within the display booth taunting you. you wonder if you should reconsider not purchasing any as you begin to leave, but that’d mean —

you shriek, “o-oh my god, i’m so sorry!”

the contents of your drink suddenly end up all over the shop’s wooden floor, as well as the man you’d previously been ogling. napkins fly from your bag onto the spill, and you hear him chuckle above you at your sudden frenzy. he bends down to help as well, because of course he does (why is he also kind?!).

strings of hurried apologies tumble from your lips until you meet his eyes. you already knew he was gorgeous (even more so when you’re face-to-face), though having him coyly smile at you and assure you it was purely a mistake almost has you dropping to the floor instead.

“you’re fine, don’t worry.” he grins through his words, eyeing you with interest. “but, if you’d maybe be open to me buying you another cup, i wouldn’t mind that.”

#. XIAO — !

it starts in taking a different train…

flower buds decorate the trees along your path, the essence of a changed season weaving itself within the new setting. however, all days must come to an end, and you find yourself searching for the nearest transportation hub in order to get home.

an unfamiliar territory means stepping out of your comfort zone, though you chose to be okay with that once you decided to walk a different path than you usually do. so, what’s one more change of pace? you’ll use a different station then you usually do.

the seats on the train are blue instead of the warm, multicolored ones you’re used to. the automated announcements sound different and the stops all have different names, and it’s nice! change is good.

it’s late, meaning there are naturally less people aboard the train alongside you. in the car you’re in, you count two people, including yourself. the other passenger sits opposite of you, looking off to the side with an generally uninterested expression. his stoicism is dangerously intriguing, but you can’t even truly tell if he’s aware you’re there.

the train’s movement pauses, and a voice booms within the speaker announcing that you’re expected to be moving again shortly. you don’t think much of it, it’s common. in the silence granted by the absence of the train’s screeching, you’re able to hear the music blasting within the headphones of the man across from you, and so like any other people watcher, you study him.

does he live around you? you’ve been following the same path for a while so he must, at the very least, be close. he’s likely new to the city, you rationalize. you’d like to talk to him, though should you? it’d be breaking the unspoken rule of thumb about wearing headphones in public, but the urge to engage in conversation hangs on your tongue. as if sensing your thoughts, you lock eyes with him through what seems to you as a passing glance of his (he’s been stealing “passing glances” since you walked on the train. you’re too gorgeous not to).

“i like your star,” you start, sheepishly. he hesitantly pushes his headphones onto his neck, focusing his energy onto you, and the sudden attention makes you nervous.

you dial back. “diamond? star? i like it, it’s pretty, really!”

for a second he only stares at you dumbfounded. pretty? he moves his fingers to graze over the birthmark adorning his forehead. it’s always garnered him attention, though “pretty” is relatively new. the train begins to move again while he internalizes your comment, and you watch with interest as his initial confusion warps into realization, and is quickly overruled by flustering.

“thank you,” he mutters. a slight smile accompanies his words, but the sight fades as contemplation takes over his expression.

your minds clutter in unison as you ponder how to ensure that this interaction isn’t your last. ask him what he’s listening to, where he’s heading, his name, even. anything to keep him from fading away into the sea of city goers.

the train doors slam open in the midst of your thoughts, and you sigh in horribly evident disappointment as the automated voice above booms out the name of your street. with a readjustment of your bag and a last glance at your newly acquired train crush, you’re pleasantly surprised with how he mirrors your motions of walking off.

“is this also your stop?”

#. ALBEDO — !

it starts in getting caught in the rain…

what’s the saying again? “april showers bring may flowers”, correct? well, it’s unknown whether the same notion can be applied to something akin to a thunderstorm.

regardless of your feelings toward rainy weather, you doubt it can be denied that pouring rainfall as violent as this is, at the very least, a slight inconvenience. especially for someone like you, who intended on taking the scenic route on the way home, only to be greeted with roaring thunders in return for your comfort zone departure.

luckily, you had enough foresight to carry an umbrella. judging by the way this approaching storm looks, however, you fear it might not last very long.

choosing to forgo your pessimism, you carry on your path, adding a bit more speed than usual to your step. the skies cloud with grey more and more each second, though you omit your encroaching panic. you’ll be fine, you’ve got this.

maybe it’s to taunt you, but as soon as your self affirmations begin to float about in your mind, a surge of lightning crackles in the distance, startling you so bad you almost drop the umbrella entirely. the winds pick up right on cue too, pushing all your surroundings to and fro. a bed of flowers you’d have like to take a picture of were it not currently storming were plucked away by the breeze, petals and all. so much for the scenic route.

each step begins to feel like a marathon as you fight against the bashing storm, though despite it all, you were still doing it! …or so you thought. unfortunately, just when you were about to round the corner of a block, your umbrella’s upper half snapped right within your hold. your only protection had inverted, now collecting a pool of water above your head.

you almost scream at the sensation of the rain starting to pour down in you and the frustration from your last shred of hope fading away. you do what most people around you have taken to, and you run to the nearest shelter you can find.

a lonely bus stop rears its way into your view, and you begrudgingly slot yourself underneath it next to its only other occupant. a perfectly dry man protecting himself under a quant little black umbrella, seemingly unbothered by the state of the world around him at the moment. a twinge of jealousy claws at you.

you ignore him for the most part, more focused on composing yourself as much as you can before you trudge back out into this rain. you try not to let your approaching crash hit as the adrenaline rush wears off from this break, though the seat of this bus stop welcomes you so nicely.

“excuse me,” bus stop boy (that’s what you’ve decided to name him) prods at your attention, already looking a bit apologetic at how you stare back at him. “would you like this?”

he extends his own umbrella towards you, and you only blink at him. what? is this complete stranger just offering his umbrella to you?

sensing your apprehension, he clears his throat and starts again.

“i’ve carried a spare. i had plans to meet with someone, though they never showed due to the storm.” bus stop boy digs through his bag, pulling out an umbrella identical to the one he’s been trying to hand you.

“i can assure you they’re both brand new and very efficient.” he offers a reassuring smile, a real one that reaches his eyes. “you just looked like you could use it. i apologize if i’ve come off too strong.”

the small bubble of jealousy from earlier twists into guilt for ever conjuring the feeling. you can tell he’s kind just from the sound of his words, it was entirely the rain’s fault for making you think that’s way earlier. you reach out and he hands you the umbrella, his gloved hands brushing yours for only a second. (it’s enough to make the rain droplet that rolls down your cheek feel cool against your blush).

you hold it above your head, feeling protected once more. looking out at the street signs you conclude you’re not as far from your destination as you thought, only a few more blocks. being indoors once again after this storm entices you enough to make you stand, ready to venture out.

“thank you…?” you trail off, realizing you have no actual name to place onto your current savior.

“albedo,” he finishes for you, catching on. albedo, huh? you bite back a giggle, you can’t decide whether or not bus stop boy fits him better.

“thank you, albedo.”

he only nods politely at your thanks, choosing not to speak again should his voice betray his heart, given that it surged at how sweetly his name rolled off your tongue.

“please, be safe.”

#. ITTO — !

it starts in being chased by dogs…

unethical, isn’t it?

about a week before this predicament of yours, this peculiar new neighbor settled into the apartment next to your own. a decently good guy, at least from what you’ve experienced with him so far. you bumped into him whilst taking out your trash and he introduced himself as “the oni sumo king itto”, which was a bit strange, but his sickeningly proud grin when he said it was too distracting for you to really judge him for it.

unfortunately, no amount of distracting beauty can take away from the fact that you’re currently running for your life!

somewhere during his first few weeks within your neighborhood, “itto” (the oni sumo king?) had managed to become a dog walker. it’s not necessarily a strange occurrence, though when you catch glimpses of a very large man caring for dogs that individually amount to the size of his arms alone, it’s a bit more endearing to see.

with this being true, it’s only natural that you let the charm of his occupation entrance you a bit when you’d seen him across the street, right? a hyper little labrador puppy melted under his hand as he pet it, tail wagging a mile a minute. as cute as the dogs he handles were, the boyish grin he sported dared to rival them. he embodied the job perfectly.

the stoplight chimed as green flashed above you, and you pulled yourself out your trance in order to cross. he tightens his hold on the many leashes as he begins to walk as well. you’re about to intercept him when you debate whether or not to greet him, though you ultimately decide against it. you rationalize to not let the allure of how adorable he looks with those dogs fool you too soon.

however, your new neighbor is about as extroverted as they come.

“hey, neighbor!” his voice is as stupidly bright and boastful as it was upon your first introduction.

if you weren’t literally in the middle of a crosswalk, you might’ve stopped to verbalize a “hello” back. you only waved, though, and based off his unwavering smile, he didn’t seem to have much of a problem with that. (how many thoughts are truly behind those eyes?)

thinking you can continue on with your day now, you resume planning your tasks. let’s see, groceries, visit the community garden, oh! and you’d like to pass by the bookstore if you have time — what’s that?

a high-pitched growling can be heard behind you, followed by a squeaky bark and all to quickly the scraping sound of paws against asphalt as the dogs and by association, itto, come charging at you.

your mind definitely lags a bit as your body responds quicker than anticipated. is it even smart to run from a pack of dogs? god, any questions right now are absolutely not getting answered, not when you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. looking back isn’t an option as it’d slow you down (would a demise caused by a bunch of puppies truly be that bad?), though you can hear your neighbor desperately pleading for the dogs to stop. maybe that’d be funny if it wasn’t at your expense.

after what feels like hours of cardio you did not ask for, your savior approaches in the distance. the bookstore! pets aren’t allowed in there, you’ll be freed! you speed up as much as you can and duck inside, the clerk inside giving you one of the strangest looks you’ve ever received. ignoring the embarrassment from that, you revel in the fact that your plan worked as you watch the dogs drag a very exasperated-looking itto down the next street, completely unaware of your diversion.

you can’t believe you just got chased by the same buff jerk you were prematurely crushing on only a few minutes ago! this is undoubtedly the end of whatever budding feelings you could’ve had for him.

well, that’s what you would say if that same jerk hadn’t later come to deliver what he deemed an “apology cake” made by his roommate. it was beautifully decorated with tons of flowers and intricate designs. through the translucent seal of the box it came in, you could read the words “chase your dreams” spelled out in frosting.

“chase your dreams?” you start, your tone a tad more annoyed than you’d like.

“it’s what i asked shinobu to write on the cake!” still as joyful as ever, isn’t he?

your accusatory glare seemed to affect him way quicker than you thought it would, and he began to shrink before you. his head hung low as he spoke his next words.

“i was planning on turning around and sparkin’ up a conversation with you when you crossed the street, and i guess the little guys might’ve saw somethin’ and started chasing you. that’s my bad…” he starts toying with his fingers as a means of expressing his nervousness. he’s being genuine. that’s sweet. (you’re supposed to be mad at him!)

“so i asked shinobu to write “chase your dreams”, ‘cause…that’s kinda what i was doin’, right? if you catch my drift…”

it takes a moment to process, but when it renders that, on top of everything, he’s just indirectly flirted with you through a cake, you have to fight the urge to laugh and maintain whatever semblance is left of your grudge.

you sigh. maybe he isn’t all bad.

thank you so much for reading !!! ily MWAH be safe 🫂

#.xiaophobic’s #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #thoma x reader #albedo x reader #xiao x reader #itto x reader #arataki itto x reader #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #i kin itto so bad WHY DID I JUST BULLY HIM

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 25: I Will Wait

~1580 words

CW: drugging, noncon undressing, nonsexual nudity, noncon touch, medical whump, forced institutionalization, ED mention, negative self-talk

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

DR MANDAL: I’d like to know how you like the staff and faculty here so far.

M BECK: Oh, they’re great. Everyone’s been wonderful.

DR MANDAL: No trouble at all?

M BECK: None.

DR MANDAL: That’s good to hear. What about the other patients, do you like your roommates?

M BECK: Sure, they’re alright.

DR MANDAL: No issues?

M BECK: We all wake up with nightmares, so it’s not like it’s fair to complain about that.

DR MANDAL: So no issues, but do you like them?

M BECK: I think so. I think everyone here hates themselves so much, it’s hard to connect with other people.

DR MANDAL: That’s very observant. Would you include yourself in that?

[0:26]

M BECK: Yeah.

~~~

The intake process was terrifying. Whatever drugs he’d been given had worn off enough for Simon to be awake, but not enough for him to resist as he was manhandled by orderlies out of the car and into a hulking rock of a building - the title of Fort wasn’t just for show. He didn’t have much time to look before he was inside, lifted onto a gurney and wheeled through a dizzying maze of hallways and into a cold room. Broad-shouldered orderlies leaned over him, and started taking off his clothes. One unzipped his coat, while another sat him up. The coat was jerked over his shoulders and off, and dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Then his turtleneck was peeled off, his arms gripped and guided by strong hands. He whimpered and flinched when they touched his skin directly for the first time, and he distantly registered a laugh. His upper half was dropped back onto the gurney and they set to work on his lower half. Someone pulled off his boots and socks while someone else started unbuttoning his jeans. This sent a shock of panic through Simon, he wanted to tell them to stop, but he couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts either, instead his head was overtaken by wordless waves of fear and shame and embarrassment as they pulled his pants and underwear down. A hand briefly grabbed his ass but Simon couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not. Tears slipped out and ran down his temple and into his ear. He couldn’t even move to brush them away, much less stop anything that was happening. Someone whistled when his thighs were revealed.

“Bloodbag.”

“Yup.”

“Fuckin’ idiot.”

A vague figure ran a hand over his ribs.

“ED watch?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll be deciding that.”

The orderlies backed off, and a gray-haired man in a doctor’s coat took over, briskly taking Simon’s vitals and shining lights in his eyes, ears, and mouth. He manually pulled at Simon’s eyelids and jaw himself, and didn’t address Simon as he worked. Then, Simon could only lie there and watch as the worst happened: the doctor received a camera from an orderly and started taking pictures. His face. His scars. The bites. The flash of the camera left Simon blinded and dazed. The doctor barked at the orderlies to flip him over and Simon heard the camera click as he captured his backside as well. Then he was dropped onto his back again, a sheet was thrown over his lower half, and the room was suddenly quiet and empty.

His head flopped to the side on the thin padding of the gurney, mouth agape. Tears and drool slowly leaked out, out of his control. He felt disgusting. Violated. Scared. This had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way Chris would send him to someplace like this. Your boss and your friends were so very worried, Kelly had said - Gina, Amber, and Devon had had a hand in this as well. He needed to talk to Chris. This all had to be some horrible misunderstanding. It had to be.

He wanted Matthew.

He wanted to go home.

Maybe you made a mistake.

Simon drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, but was finally brought back by his stomach growling loudly. He’d lost a lot of his appetite over the last month, but even he could only go so long without eating. He found he could move his arms, and legs, and even slowly sit up. He discovered some thin, scratchy clothes folded at his feet: a long sleeved t-shirt and elastic-waisted pants, both a sickly shade of green, and started the laborious process of putting them on. He felt sick, dizzy, cold, and hungry, and his limbs moved half a second slower than he wanted them to. He had just pulled up the pants and was standing unsteadily against the gurney when the door opened. He flinched back, grabbing the gurney for support. The large redheaded orderly that entered looked him up and down.

“McKenna?”

“Yes?” Simon breathed.

“With me.” He stepped aside and held the door open. Simon tentatively scooted through under his gaze.

“Where-?”

“Left,” the man ordered.

Simon started walking to the left down the hall, but his legs wobbled under him and he staggered into the wall. The large man caught his upper arm, gripping it hard enough to bruise, and dragged him along.

“That hurts, you’re hurting me,” Simon pleaded. No response. “Where are we going?” Nothing. They passed by more doors and under more fluorescent lights, as well as beady-eyed cameras mounted in high corners. The surveillance reminded Simon of Lara’s house, and his heart pounded. He stumbled to keep up. “I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday, can -”

The orderly abruptly stopped and slammed Simon into the wall, pinning him there with an arm across his chest that knocked all the air out of Simon’s lungs.

“Don’t ask me for shit,” he growled, “Don’t ask anyone for shit, just do what you’re told, and shut the fuck up.”

Simon nodded, gasping for air. The orderly held him there for a long, threatening moment, clearly enjoying the power trip. Then it was back to being dragged.

After a few more confusing turns, they passed through a heavy security door and into an open room with round tables and scattered chairs, occupied by a handful of other people in the same green outfits as Simon. Orderlies were dotted around the room, observing as patients drew in coloring books and played checkers. It reeked of mildew and sick. Cameras stared from every corner.

“Don’t make any friends,” the redhead whispered in his ear, and released his arm. Simon staggered a couple steps forward, clutching at his aching bicep. Some of the other patients turned in their seats to watch him with languid curiosity.

Simon hugged himself tightly, breathing fast. He didn’t know what the orderly’s warning meant. He didn’t know what to do. He looked around the room in desperation and his heart leapt when he saw the back of someone in pink scrubs - a nurse, not a patient or orderly. The pink reminded him of Tammy at the clinic, and how kind she’d been. He wove through the tables to where she was talking to another patient.

“Excuse me,” Simon tapped her on the shoulder, “I just got here, I don’t know what’s going on, can you help me?”

She turned around slowly, her thin eyebrows high.

“Okay, number one, do not touch the faculty or staff,” she lectured.

“Oh, sorry, I -”

She snapped her hand closed in front of his face.

“Ah-ah! I don’t want to hear it. Who did your intake?”

“I didn’t - I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Do you know your room number?”

“N-no.”

 She huffed.

“Fine, I’ll look everything up for you. What’s your name, do you at least know that?”

“Simon. McKenna.”

“Thank you.” She strode away, ponytail bouncing, and exited through a security door that she opened with a keycard. Simon watched her go, pressing his knuckles to his mouth.

“That’s Linda,” said the patient she had been talking with - a very tall, very skinny man hunched over a hand of cards. Two others sat opposite him, an older man with a significant tremor and a boy younger than Simon, barely an adult.

“You don’t want to mess with her. I’m Chett, you wanna play cards with us?” the skinny man twanged, and grinned black and yellow teeth in an eerily familiar way that made Simon shrink back.

“S-sorry, no thank you,” he stammered.

“C’mon, sweet little thing like you needs friends!” Chett cajoled, but Simon was already backing away. He found a mercifully empty table and slouched down in the slippery plastic chair to wait for Linda. His heart thrummed and his eyes darted around the room at the other patients still giving him sidelong glances. None of them looked particularly friendly. The orderlies, on the other hand, looked downright hostile. They were all large men, some even larger than Matthew, and they glowered down over the patients like a bank of storm clouds.

Matthew. Simon felt tears spring to his eyes again. Hopefully wherever Matthew was sent was better than this. He put his head down on the table, sheltering under his arms. His mind replayed his last moments with Matthew. Their last kiss.

I’ll come get you.

Only a little while.

It’ll be okay.

You fucking idiot.

Regret started to bubble up in his stomach.

Shouldn’t have gone to the clinic.

He winced at the thought. Matthew, the real Matthew, was back and alive, and he was regretting that?

Worthless.

You deserve to be here.

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #sunless lives #sunless lives arc 3 #cw drugging #cw noncon undressing #cw nonsexual nudity #cw noncon touch #medical whump #cw forced institutionalization #cw ED mention #cw negative self-talk #my writing

[himbos-hotline]

Kissing prompt for Hangman/Kenny:

Leaning in without realizing and then stopping just before their lips are attached to look in the other’s eyes to see if they want this too>>>>>

Look at you [how could I not be in love with you]

Wordcount: 2,092 words Ship: HangKenny, Golden Lovers [implied/refrenced], Polycule!Elite [Implied/Refrenced] Characters: Kenny Omega, "Hangman" Adam PageMatt Jackson, Nick Jackson Authors Note: kenny feels unloved and insecure and hangman really just helps him feel more loved and cared for. spurred on by an hours writing sprint after rampage because i am also still insane over the hungbucks winning. i dont know where this fic came from but I hope yall like it. Tumblr wasnt showing this ask sorry anon! Triggers: Men crying, Comfort no hurt Read on ao3

When Hangman wins gold before Kenny, something shifts deep in his chest. Kenny watches from the back, gnawing at his bottom lip with his teeth, letting the skin come off in flakes on his tongue. He trails after Adam’s hair, watching it float through the air before it settles in messy ringlets around his shoulders. Kenny feels his breath hiccup in his chest when they get the three count and a part of his stomach burns a little when he sees the way Matt smiles at Adam, joy so clear in his eyes that Kenny almost tastes bitterness on his mouth. He rolls the sour taste in his mouth and wonders, just for a few seconds, if this is what Cole’s final moments felt like; chills wrapping themselves around his spine and the final thought being one of replacement. He sighs, turning his back to the TV screen as he shrugs his shirt over his head and lets the thin fabric push away any nerves.

It's not like he isn’t proud of them, Kenny thinks as he sits alone in the EVP locker room, picking at the thick fabric of his bag straps. He is proud of them because they’re his friends and Hangman is his well…Kenny swallows, letting his eyes float across the floor. He has more important things to focus on right now, more important things to be angry over. Something that Kenny has the right to be angry over; it's fine that Hangman won a title before him this year, it's fine that the Bucks seem to be back in their old ways- following Adam around like lost puppies, clinging onto his every word while Kenny sits on the bench, listening quietly as he grips his phone tighter, wanting to show Matt a picture of his cat or Nick something that he found on the way home to the gym. Kenny doesn’t ever get to show them anything, he just sits there and lets the screen go black; his golden star shimmering brighter everytime Adam laughs, his head laying on Nick's shoulder.

There’s footsteps coming down the hallway, all light and airy and Kenny listens to the squeaking of Matt’s sneakers against the floor. The door opens and Adam walks in, arm loose around Matt’s middle and Kenny feels small and silver again. Nick smiles at him, a skip in his step when he makes his way over to sit on Kenny’s lap, he pauses for a little just staring down at Kenny before slowly taking his belt off and setting it into his duffel bag.

“You could have worn it.” Kenny mumbles, shifting his weight back against the wall, arm hanging loose against Nick's hip when he sits down.

“Didn’t wanna hurt you.” Nick whispers back, voice barely audible over the ringing in Kennys’s ears.

He should be looking at Nick as he snuggles his head into Kenny’s neck but he can't seem to pull his eyes off the way that Hangman’s belt sparkles under the artificial light, he hasn’t taken it off and Adam’s name hasn't been switched on. But it’s his because it's settled against his fluttering stomach and there's a thumbprint against the leather and Kenny knows it's Adam’s because he can match the swirls to the bruises on his hips.

Matt looks up at Adam, through his eyelashes in the way that makes the back of Kenny’s ribs ache. Adam nods and presses a quick kiss against Matt’s forehead, arm dropping form around his shoulders and Matt kneels in front of his little brother, untangling his boots as Nick forces his eyes open to stare down at him. They’re having a silent conversation but Kenny still can't tug his eyes off Adam and it's only when he smells the slight bitterness of the metal does he realize that Adam is closer than he expected, Kenny stares up at him with something that feels akin to a smile.

Adam breathes out through his nose and settles his hand snugly on Kenny’s shoulder, something that still burns Kenny slightly. The softness of Adam’s touch as he kisses Kenny’s forehead just like he did Matt’s is something that Kenny still can't wrap his head around fully. He swallows the taste of sourness in his throat and when Nick moves off his shoulder, Kenny realizes that the two of them are alone and he stares up at Adam like he’s waiting for him to make the next move.

“You put on a shirt.” Adam whispers, voice smooth and giggling and Kenny feels something inside his chest drops. Adam doesn't push his face into the cold gold of the title, he doesn't make Kenny shift off the bench and onto his knees. He just holds his face softly, and leans his forehead against him as if Kenny is providing Adam with everything he's ever wanted.

Adam is doing everything that Kenny didn’t do to him.

Adam slumps against Kenny, letting the smaller man tuck his head into the crook of his neck and he feels Adam sigh above him and when Kenny shifts his face against Adam skin, he realizes that he tastes salt and when he swallows, Kenny feels his chest hiccup again and Adam’s look at him with his eyebrows raised and lips twisting into a small frown. “Why are you cryin’ angel?”

“I’m not crying.” Kenny says, his voice trembling.

Adam sighs above him again, softer this time and Kenny half braces himself for an assault but Adam’s hands are so gentle as he cuddles Kenny against his clammy skin, running his fingers through his two-toned curls in a way that makes Kenny feel like he’s glowing. “I’m sorry…”

“Whatever for?” Adam asks, holding Kenny at arms length as he wipes his tears away. He leans over, taking a bottle of tylenol out of Kenny’s backpack, Adam’s weighing the bottle in his mind and Kenny frowns a little, he’s not that stupid. “Are you in pain?”

Kenny also thinks that's a stupid question but he doesn't tell Adam that. Because he is aching somewhere deep down that's spreading through his entire body. “I treated you badly…” Kenny says, sniffling as Adams fingers brush against his palm. He takes the pain pills, swallowing them down with enough water that it drizzles down the curve of his chin and Adam wipes it away, pressing his hand against the title and Kenny crumples the water bottle between his hands.

Adam finds himself running his fingers down Kenny’s face, wiping the water away, it's a soothing almost tender motion that makes his fingertips tingle “It's all water under the bridge baby. You were…” Adams hand pauses with his words as he shifts closer, pressing a small kiss to the middle of Kenny’s forehead, trying to smooth the worry lines away as Kenny stares down at the title.

“Different then?” Kenny replies, voice barely above a whisper one that morphs into a hum when Adam nods, releasing Kenny long enough for him to settle the trios title on the bench just away from Kenny’s eyeline and something seems to calm in the back of Kenny’s head, at least for a little when Adam leans in to kiss him.

Adam presses their noses together first, before he lets Kenny set the pace, moving forwards just enough that his hand rests against the tassels on Adam’s ring tights and he twirls them around his fingers. “Rainbows?”

“Thought they deserved a return, dya like them?” Adam’s breathing against Kenny's lips now, he still smells like exhaustion and Kenny sees it in his half lidded green eyes and like the sudden shift from fall to winter, surges forwards and kisses the tiredness of Adam’s lips. His fingers brush against his chest tracing the curve of his ribs just under his skin until Kenny’s hands rest against the fat on Adam’s hips. They settle there until Adam pulls away, slow enough that Kenny almost falls forward with him.

“I’m sorry..” Kenny whispers again, letting Adam hold him tighter this time as he leans in for another kiss without thinking about it. Adam kisses his apologies away and the pain that Kenny felt around his chest leaves slowly, the chills squeezing his spine disappears and Kenny becomes soft and manageable in Adam’s hands. “You still love me right?”

“Of course..” Adam’s voice raises slightly at the end and his fingers slowly pull Kenny's off his body. “I don't hang out with you just because I think I have too, I’m here because I love you.”

“But I have nothing to give you..” Kenny admits, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Sitting down, under Adam’s confused green eyes feels like an interrogation and Kenny stands up, shifting his anxious energy from foot to foot. “Matt and Nick do..a-and I get that you had that entire thing with Cole-”

For a few seconds, the name hangs in the air and Adam nods, watching Kenny sas he starts to pace, hands reaching out in front of him as he speaks.

“And you have Kota…” Adam replies back, breaking the silence by adding more tension. The pain under Kenny’s ribs is back, scalding a little more as it presses against his heart. “You’ve always had Kota…You always will have Kota''

“I love him…” Kenny admits, saying it so easily that he’s almost waiting for it to wound Adam. But it doesn't, Adam nods and smiles; a small but knowing smile that creeps across his face and highlights the sharp features in a soft light that makes him look like a statue. Kenny thinks he looks beautiful. “I had the tag titles with him in DDT..” Kenny isn't sure why he's reminiscing or why Adam is sitting letting Kenny ramble on about fairy tales that are so worn down by Kennys tight grip, all the memories are faded like polaroids damaged in a house fire. “And..”

Adam knows the end of the story. It's one that he listens to in the seas of Kenny’s eyes; long after Kenny’s stopped talking or thinking and is instead just, staring off into space. His eyes fog over and Adam leans closer to hear the man on the top of the hill, yelling out over the sea pathetically waiting for his soulmate to call back.

Adam sometimes thinks, in those moments when Kenny is so far away in his own brain, that he can sometimes see little hints of Kenny’s soul, painting small golden rings around Kenny’s spread out pupil. Kota is the glue keeping Kenny omega together, painting his scars and breaks in a bright golden paste that shimmers long after Adam’s rubbed it away with the scuffed edges of his ring-worn nails.

“Now you have the Bucks…”

“We both have the Bucks.” Adam says, leaning forwards when Kenny turns around and just stares at him, eyebrows pinched together and eyes cloudy with tears again. “Kenny, do you think that I’m gonna leave ya for Matt or Nick?”

Kenny doesn’t reply. Just turns his head back to stare at the trio's titles and frowns. “I think…You don't love me if I’m not golden…”

“Kenny, look at me.” Adam wishes that his voice sounded commanding but it comes out strangled, pushed from the back of his throat and he stares up at Kenny, blinking away his own tears until he sees the small golden spark in Kenny’s eyes once again. “I love you..I dunno what else I can say to help but I love you…more than whatever kinda gold or belt I get. I know we ain’t soulmates..” Adam pauses. Feels Kenny’s rough hands cup just under his chin and he smiles softly.

“We’re enough”

“Yeah.”

Adam’s tilting his head up before he even remembers where he is, the sweat chills against his skin and Kenny chuckles softly as they breathe in the same air. They kiss until the locker room door is shoved open and Nick blinks at them bleary eyed and half dressed in his civilian clothes. Matt follows behind, holding ring tape in his mouth. “You two ready to go?”

Kenny looks at Adam and Adam looks back, reaching out to take Matt’s hand to slowly pull them into the hug.

“Yeah I’m ready.”

The gold sits at the bottom of Adam’s bag until they get back to the hotel and Kenny once again leans up to steal the air out of his lungs.

At that moment, Kenny might not be painted in gold. But he is covered in love

And maybe that's better.

Taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @itsnoosetome @racerchix21 @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @kittycatkenny @tahiri-veyla

#hangkenny #hangmega #last call #adam page #kenny omega #mouse writes

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Hi, I don't know if I'm doing this right but can I request the lines, ❛ do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? ❜ and, ❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ for Trickster? Have a nice day :)

I know it was suppose to be smut lines but the horror of the call of the abyss got me i also have no idea what embalmer's personality is lol i tired

Rated Mature | Warning: monster reader (pitch black level sort of)

The one called ‘Trickster’ is the one you find to be strange. The attempt to keep the other’s humanity in check by being humorous is different from the seriousness of others in the group who have ventured here. Here being your nest, your paradise, they call it the Nether or the Abyss. You never gave this place a name, you are not sure what to call it when you created it from the bones of those who lived in this mansion. Abyss is rather catchy, and threatening. Nether sounds like a limbo, something but nothing all at once. You watch as they go forth, cautious, hyperaware of the surroundings. You hate when fools enter your home, as the place has parts of you everywhere, and you are very much aware of their presence. The shadows of your power, the darkness that consumes the light when it is gifted freely.

Humans, you tilt your head to the side before returning your vision to the current area your body rests in. Yes, a body, this flesh long ago corrupted, you always wondered if you were human.

Or maybe you made this to be human?

With no memories, you will never know. Not that it matters, nothing matters so long as you have peace in your home.

A peace that is being disturbed. You pet the tendril of darkness, you look at the glass around the room watching as the group is running away from a creature that made its home here. You do not mind neighbors, they keep the peace when you do not feel like putting in effort. What was that one called? She has pretty eyes reminding you of a cat… Hmm, whatever. You sit on the ground as the tendril disappears and the room is once again hollow as you are. The glass around the room shifts to different sights where the human group trying to escape the peacekeeper, the peepers keep you informed of their locations.

“I want that one.” Pointing to the man with a coat that is worn improperly. Why does he bother to wear in such a manner? The tendrils in the room shift as it glows a dull blue, your command transmitted to the peacekeeper. She will play with the others and the rooms will shift to bring you the one called ‘Trickster’.

“No killing. Taste only.” You are not hungry today and will allow them to leave but your taint will stain them as a warning to any who wish to be foolish, “Play with them outside in the garden.”

Peacekeeper stops to turn to the peeper then nods before returning to the hunt.

He is rather small. Are all humans this small? They seem bigger when you are watching them. He is on the ground bleeding out a bit, he should not tried to resist. You stand tall above him, the swirls of your power must be intimating for he has not stopped shaking. You lean down with your hand reached out with a blue glow around it.

“Ah!” Moving away but a tendril stops him by gripping his ankle. He reaches behind him but stops when another tendril is at his throat, the sharp tip pressing against his Adam’s apple. A warning before you say it. It moves away when he brings his hands up to show he will not do anything.

“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up.” Monotone, “I am only going to take your pain away.”

“Don’t touch me!” He is afraid, all humans are yet they some many stupid things that put themselves in positions of fear.

You inhale the scent before sighing in the form of annoyance, “Do you think you’re in a position to give orders?” Pressing your hand on the wound, you make sure it hurts a bit more than you first intended. He grabs your wrists with both of his hands, his blood and body are warm something you have not felt in a long time. “Foolish thing.” He squirms then stops as the pain is gone. The gash on his side is gone as if it was never there! He touches it, pokes it, then looks at you with wide eyes. “You do not need to thank me.”

“Didn’t plan to,” He stares at you, “Are you corrupted?”

“Corrupted?” Crouching down to his level so he would not crane his neck to look at you, “No.”

“But you look human.”

“And you look like a fool, does that mean you are a fool?” The man looks rather offended by those words, “No, I was born like this.” Then you look away from the glass to see the peacekeeper has allowed the group to escape. “You will leave and not return. The next time you enter this place I shall keep you.” The words he might have said are silence by the mist of darkness that removes him from both your sight and your home. Once more peace, yet, you look at your hand covered with his blood and feel… Melancholy. As if you lost something you cannot quite place. Maybe you were hungry?

#anon ask #reader insert #idv #identity v x reader #identity v #identity v x you #idv embalmer #identity v embalmer #embalmer x you #embalmer x reader #idv x you #idv x reader