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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Instead of shattering Dad Nie's saber to kill his pride, he shatters Baxia - and thus Nie Mingjue. What better way to punish a man who dared to think anything of his could rival Wen Ruohan? Only, Nie Mingjue survives... and Baxia does too. Of course, sharing Nie Mingjue's body, neither of them is quite the same...

Curse-breaker (Chapter 1/4)

- ao3 -

"I see," Wen Ruohan said, his teeth slightly gritted, his irritation plain and obvious for all to see. "Indeed, I must concede that Sect Leader Nie's saber is finer than the one I own; it is undeniable. Lao Nie, your saber."

He offered it back, plainclothes-wrapped hilt first.

"You do my sect honor," Sect Leader Nie said with a wide grin, accepting the saber. "Our sabers are indeed the finest – and more than that, they get better with each generation. To tell you the truth, my friend: this one isn't mine, but my son's!"

He revealed the hilt, not anything like his own, and laughed, delighted by the joke he had played.

Wen Ruohan’s face contorted, growing pale in what everyone assumed was rage.

It was only later that Lao Nie, at least, recognized that it had been horror.

Nie Mingjue was screaming, and had not stopped screaming.

His throat was rent all to pieces, his fingers bloody from clawing at his own flesh, his eyes rolling around in his head as if by some inescapable fit -

"It's a qi deviation," one of the elders said. "Induced by the breaking of his saber. We should take him to the tombs."

"Fuck off," Lao Nie told them, as if saying the words would deny the truth. "He's too young!"

He put himself between them and his son.

"You shouldn't have let him take up the saber so young," the elder persisted, as if it had been Nie Mingjue’s fault that his son’s saber had been shattered by a man a century older than him, and all because of a dispute that had nothing to do with him. "You shouldn't have shown it to others, left it unguarded -"

"Do you think I don't know that?!" Lao Nie roared, abruptly pushed beyond his limits. "Do you think that I don't already regret...!"

He regretted. Oh, how he regretted!

He had not regretted a single thing in his life since the day his father had told him that he would one day die, and how. Even back then, he had swallowed down the regret without choking on it: he had accepted it, understood it, and resolved to live the life he had left to him to the utmost. What good, he had reasoned, would regret do? Would it win him a single additional day of life? Would it wring out a single ounce of additional joy from the days he did have?

There was no point in regret.

Whether that was the right decision or not, he didn’t know, but it was the one he made, and he stuck with it.

His whole life, Lao Nie had been reckless and carefree even by the already low standards of his family. He was always indulging in familiar pleasures and searching for new experiences, doing whatever he could to excite a palate already starting to grow jaded. He broke hearts as easily as he won them, and had what even he admitted was the worst taste in partners imaginable, attracted as he was to danger and death as if to an old and much-beloved friend. He laughed at the idea of risk or consequences, taking care only for his sect, which he loved; everything else was negotiable, or so he'd thought. He'd scared the wits out of most of his family time and time again, and - perhaps as recompense - had grown his first grey hair dozens of years too early. To this day, he still didn't know whether the reason everyone called him Lao Nie so often that even he thought of himself that way was because they were genuinely fond of him, because of the premature black-and-white mix of his hair, or perhaps just as some unspoken prayer that he finally get over himself and grow up.

If it was the last, it hadn’t worked. Even as he’d gotten older, he hadn’t changed one bit.

The only thing that had changed was that he’d finally found something he loved more than his sect.

He loved his children.

He loved his children, whether the righteous and too-serious Mingjue with his secret penchant for tears or the flippant and carefree Huaisang who was lazier than a slug in the sun. He loved them and he, unlike his father before him, did not burden them over-early with knowledge that would only be an itch under their skin that slowly drove them mad.

He loved them.

And now one of them was dying – because of him.

"You should take him to the tombs," the elder said, and ignored the crash of the chair Lao Nie threw at their head. "You let him become a man of our sect, Lao Nie. Do him the honor of letting him die as one.”

“You…!”

“Or do you think you are being kind, leaving him like this?"

Lao Nie looked down at his son, his Mingjue, the baby he’d held in his arms and the toddler he’d taught to walk and the child he’d chased and the teenager he’d taught the saber. His boy, who was thrashing wildly on the bed, spitting up foam along with blood and weeping uncontrollably.

"A-die," Nie Mingjue whimpered, just as he had when he'd been younger and caught in the throes of fever or breaking a bone through his own misadventures. Tears streamed endlessly down his eyes, his brave little boy who was not-so-secretly a bit of a crybaby. "A-die, a-die, it hurts..."

Lao Nie closed his eyes in pain.

He regretted.

But it was too late now to regret.

"We'll take him to the tombs," he finally conceded, and for the first time in his life he truly felt old. "Just let me say goodbye."

If you go to the tombs, you will not come out.

Nie Mingjue might only be a child, thirteen or fourteen years old – he couldn’t remember clearly any longer which it was – but he had been a good student before that, reading faithfully through his sect’s histories and listening to his teachers. He knew enough to read between the lines, to reckon the subtle indications and the not-so-subtle hints: he knew, even before he’d been officially told, what it was that he faced down at the end of the road that his ancestors had built for him to walk.

The early death – the painful death – the silent tombs –

There had been so many whispers when he’d taken up his Baxia too early. How could he not know?

His father hadn’t wanted him to know, though. So he hadn’t said anything, and pretended he didn’t.

(Huaisang could be ignorant for real, he’d thought to himself. It’d be okay if he didn’t know.)

If you go to the tombs, you will not come out. You cannot go to the tombs!

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes.

He no longer screamed, even though the spiritual energy that had once felt rich and nourishing and strong now felt like corrosive acid scouring his veins, burning him from the inside out – it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, wasn’t still compelled too; it was only that he had screamed too much, wearing out his voice down to nothingness from overuse.

If I go to the tombs, I will not come out, he thought, dimly aware that something wasn’t right. Thinking was hard, and grew ever harder: the qi deviation, for that was what it was, was worsening, not getting better.

Would not ever get better.

His Baxia, his loyal saber filled to the brim with resentful energy, had shattered. Shattered, and now all that resentful energy that she had collected for herself had flooded back into him, drowning his brain in rage and madness.

Flooding him with – Baxia.

I cannot go to the tombs.

You cannot go to the tombs, Baxia agreed – at least, he thought it was Baxia. It might be himself: he could no longer tell the difference.

She’d shattered, and he’d shattered, too. His mind and his body and his meridians and his golden core: everything was in pieces. His spiritual energy was running the wrong way, twisting him up inside, hurting instead of helping – the rage and resentful energy wasn’t going into Baxia but coming back into him, and it was poison.

There was no fixing it. His ancestors had tried everything they could: brought in the finest physicians with their needles and their clever ideas, sought out mysterious techniques and strange geniuses that played games even with their golden cores, even tried out demonic cultivation to see if it would help – with their lives and their children’s lives at stake, was there anything they wouldn’t do?

As if it would be that easy.

As if the road to death taken time and time again over the generations could be so easily evaded.

Nie Mingjue was a Nie. He had had a qi deviation. He was going to die.

But he was young, too.

Too young.

They all said that’d he formed his core at an extraordinary young age, and he had, too, verifiable evidence of his unusual genius for cultivating – only a golden core formed too early wasn’t quite the same as one done in the usual way at the usual time. It’d formed all right, all the spiritual liquid flowing through his meridians condensing into a shining solid sphere in his dantian, but it was still a little gummy in comparison to the normal ones. It had to be. He’d formed the core before he’d reached adolescence, without any of the necessary hormones running through his body; if his golden core was as fully solid as most adults, he’d be stuck at the age and size he was at when the core was first formed.

Normally, all this meant was that his foundation would be a little unstable for the first few years, just until he got old enough, and only when he was finally at his proper age would it truly settle into place along with his body, growing firm and solid and far more powerful than all the rest.

But he’d never gotten the chance to grow that old.

Nie Mingjue’s core had cracked when his saber that had been fundamentally tied to it had shattered, but unlike the steel of the saber it was still more fluid than solid. Even as the corrosive resentful energy burned him, even as the spiritual energy rioted within him, his old instincts were still there, that subconscious genius for cultivating already at work, trying to force the spiritual energy to run through him, trying to put those broken pieces back together. For any normal Nie, the greater his talent, the faster he’d be driven mad, but for Nie Mingjue, those gummy pieces of his core, sticky and still fluid, were instead being soldered together using spiritual energy and resentful energy both, and unlike the stiff and brittle solidity of the golden core of adulthood, they were still flexible enough to stick together – to coalesce into a whole once more.

Only –

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes.

He’d already opened them once, and now he opened them again. The world as he had always recognized it, he saw through his left eye – but through his right, there was a whole new world.

It was a world of black and white, of good and evil, a world of kinetic movement, of steel and rage incarnate…the world through the perception of a saber spirit. A saber spirit who had shattered when her steel was shattered, shattered when her master’s core was shattered, and whose pieces were even now integrating interchangeably with her master’s pieces into a single indissoluble whole.

If we go to the tombs, they thought, and now that was it, that was right, we will not come out.

Well, that was simple enough to fix.

They just wouldn’t go to the tombs.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Nie Huaisang’s father hissed. “He can’t be – he wasn’t in any state – he couldn’t have just gotten up and run away – no, stop, let’s go. I don’t want Huaisang hearing.”

Nie Huaisang hated it when his father remembered to be discreet around him.

His da-ge was never discreet, he thought, pouting. If anything, that was something his father often complained about, even if he would be chuckling all the while: that Nie Mingjue had all the tact of a lady boar in full charge, riled up in defense of her children, and with about as much care for anything that did not meet his stringent expectations of justice and fairness – which was rather a lot.

Where was his da-ge, anyway? Nie Huaisang hadn’t seen him in days, not since he went out on that night hunt with their father. He’d asked his nurse about it, because it was unusual for his brother not to come play with him once he’d returned, and she’d said that he’d gotten sick and couldn’t come to see him just yet. But surely it was long enough that he’d be better already!

Nothing could keep his big brother down for long.

Decided, Nie Huaisang hopped up and headed outside, planning to go find his brother. His brother would explain what was going on, simplifying things down until even a little kid like him could get it, and he wouldn’t make Nie Huaisang feel stupid for needing that simplification.

His brother thought Nie Huaisang was smart.

Nie Huaisang walked along the railing next to his window, teetering back and forth with his hands outstretched for balance – his brother had showed him this pathway long ago, telling him that he could use it when he wanted to sneak out go play or look at birds, or even just come to find him whenever he had nightmares.

His brother wasn’t in his rooms, though.

Nie Huaisang sighed. Maybe he was in the study, or the training field, or something like that, but if Nie Huaisang tried to go there, he’d be dragged into lessons or training as well, and he didn’t want that.

He decided to go look at birds instead.

His brother had come up with a secret path to the outside that only they knew, the two of them, one that led them all the way out into the forest where the really interesting birds were. It was close enough to home that it was still safe, still within the bounds of the Unclean Realm’s protective arrays, but far enough to feel unburdened by the presence of their elders.

Nie Huaisang went to look at birds, but it wasn’t birds he found.

“…who’s there?” he asked, seeing movement in the bushes – something too large to be a bird, too small to be a bear, too two-legged to be a boar or a dog. Whoever it was, they were breathing hard, as if they’d run too far, interspersed with little whines of pain, like they were hurt. “Who are…”

The figure in the bush moved forward.

“…da-ge?”

Nie Huaisang’s big brother didn’t look right. He was crouched down, carrying his body low as if he were trying to support himself and protect his middle at the same time, his fingers digging into the ground for balance – his lips were peeled back from his teeth in something caught between a grimace and a growl. His left eye was normal, but his right was horribly red, shot through with pulsing veins that seemed to bleed into the iris, the color of which had faded from warm golden brown to something more like a slate or steel grey.

He sounded like he was in pain.

His brother was in pain.

Nie Huaisang took a step towards him, deeply concerned, and Nie Mingjue backed away.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang whispered, terrified. “Da-ge, it’s me, it’s Huaisang – I won’t hurt you!”

Nie Mingjue whined, a sound deep in the back of his throat, but this time, when Nie Huaisang stepped forward, he didn’t run. He waited until Nie Huaisang was close before darting forward and nuzzling Nie Huaisang’s hand with his cheek, ducking his head down and letting him touch his hair as if he were a dog.

His brother wasn’t just sick, Nie Huaisang realized. He was reallysick.

“What happened?” he asked, and his brother just looked sad. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

His brother nodded. A short jerking motion, barely recognizable, and yet – a nod.

“…do you have to?”

Another nod.

Nie Huaisang’s lip quivered. “Will you be all right?”

His brother nuzzled his palm again. It wasn’t an answer.

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath. “I won’t tell anyone.”

His brother seemed almost to smile.

And then he was gone.

Walking all the way back inside before bursting into tears was the hardest thing Nie Huaisang had ever done in his life, but the worst part was knowing that this was only the beginning.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #sect leader nie #nie huaisang #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #curse-breaker

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bakugohoex · 3 years

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I’ve seen the Jean x reader in Marley, and it was really good, so can you do a levi x reader in marely as well pls🥺🥺🥺

“i always notice you, y/n”

pairing: levi ackerman x female reader

cw: fluff, violence, kissing, language, season four spoilers

word count: 2700+

a/n: hopefully this shows up in the tags if it doesnt i dont know what imma do, but anyway hope you guys like it and enjoy this, this will be my last fic for this year, i hope you guys enjoy tonight and have a happy new year

summary: in which you and levi are undercover doing reconnaissance in marley, want turns to stalking different marleyans leads to feelings being brought out from the two of you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The sound of Marleyans seemed to flow out through the streets, you had all separated from each other on arrival to Marley. Eren having wandered off himself and his arrival to Marley having shocked you all, making you all come to Marley yourself. Even after all these years with the new group of adults they were still the babies you remembered meeting with Levi.

You had been in Levi’s squad from the beginning, being his second in command so whilst the rest of your squad got massacred by the female titan you had been with Levi and Erwin. Levi wouldn’t admit it, but he was glad you had come with him that day, he was glad you didn’t die on the countless scouting expeditions that occurred.

The bustling of propaganda engulphed you, hearing Levi come through a door of where you were staying for this visit. To the outside world you and Levi were just a happy couple starting afresh in Marley, but you and him both knew how a downfall was evidently going to occur.

He chucked the newspaper on the bed that you both had been sharing, you had both learnt how to sleep beside each other without touching each other, the way you wouldn’t face each other when you fell asleep. A silence arising at night, you loved the man, of course you did but he loved being a scout more and you, you were always going to be his second in command and nothing more.

“More bullshit.” You mutter straightening out the dress, it was floral and disgusting to wear, you had been too a custom to the cream trousers and brown jacket that a dress felt unnatural. He wore a black suit and white shirt, the dress shoes looking even more older in the many years he had had it. He had disregarded his mother’s ascot many years ago, but you missed the look of it on him.

“You know what they’re like.” He spoke expressionless watching you put the necklace around your neck. “You ready for this hell.”

You nodded, his dull grey eyes skimmed up and down your body, the way the dress hugged your frame and made you look youthful and content. But he knew the truth, knew that behind those eyes of yours there was murder and deceit.

He watches you walk up to him putting your hand out, he grabs it without hesitance as you both walk down onto the streets. Hanje had told you both about the midday market where announcements were heard, you knew that a war was occurring with how Eren had easily been motivated to infiltrate Marley without your knowledge. He opened the door before you, the smell of chamomile hit your nose, the wind making your hair sweep in front of your face.

He saw you trying to get rid of the hair from your face, he doesn’t speak grabbing your hair and the elastic to keep your hair in place. He easily ties it, stray pieces framing your face, it was a shock that led to the red to brush across your cheeks and nose. “At least now you can see.”

“And I thought you just wanted to touch my hair.” You mock out.

He looks at you which makes you turn to not face him, “Your hairs nice.”

“Umm… thank you.” You felt your face redden even more, his gaze moving up and down your body again, you quickly spoke to leave this situation, “let’s go.”

He nodded before taking your hand again, you both walked past the Marleyans, you didn’t have the Eldian arm band making you look like them. But you really weren’t, the way you acted, walked it was something new and different. “This is the place Hanje said to go.”

You nod, looking to the floor, people barging past, clearly common courtesy was dead in this place. You stand with a crowd, all their faces meshed as if it was just you and Levi watching the one man speak.

“My Marleyan brothers and sisters, today marks the day our hero Helos saved us from the devils of the Eldians.” He continued spewing out bullshit, people cheering and happily listening along. The grip of your hand tightened around Levi’s.

“Stay calm Y/n.” Your name fell from his mouth with comfort, it was sweet and your whole demeanour changed.

“Yes sir.” You say, turning back to the fresh out of the cadet corps.

You remember meeting Levi on your first day in the survey corps, your fresh face and innocent eyes made everybody believe you were weak. You had been shouted at by one of the cadets who had trained with you, he knew you weren’t weak but was trying to impress the captains around him.

He went to grab your shirt, but with ease you kicked his stomach. He jolted backwards ready to throw the first punch, the captains not daring to make a move to see what was about to happen. You smirk sadistically, he went in for the punch, but you easily dodged and grabbed his arm putting pressure on it. He fell to the ground below you before you kicked him in his face making him fall to the ground.

A man twice the size of you, a man who had gotten 2nd spot had gotten defeated by you. The girl who had beat them all, the girl who achieved 1st easily. “Whose she?” Levi asked to Erwin who had come outside.

“That’s our new recruits, and our number one spot Y/n Y/l/n.” Hanje had instantly come over asking if you were some sort of god. You made friends with her quickly, but Levi had kept an eye on you after that moment. He knew as soon as he saw you kill three titans on your own that you were going to be in his squad, you would be his second in command.

You had grown closer to Levi over the years, he trusted you as much as he trusted Hanje, maybe even more. You heard his life story, talked to him about your problems and issues, your life and most of all. You both knew what the priorities were, and it was to kill titans. But here you were the years of loving a man who didn’t even glance at you twice.

The man kept speaking and rambling, Levi had lost concentration on the man. He looked at your facial features, the way your eyebrows knitted every time devil was brought up. Or how your y/e/c eyes had murder rushing through the pupils, he saw the years that had taken a toll on you. But all he could see was the girl who had broken the nose of a man twice her size. He smiled before looking down just as you looked at him.

His hair covered his smile and soft eyes he had just had for you, even after all these years you had stuck by him. You had been there through it all, every decision you had been with him to make. As long as you were alive then he knew you’d both win against the Marleyans who were the true enemies of the Eldians.

Loud roars made you both get out of your thoughts of each other, the speech had ended and you both had left. The whole point having been to listen in but instead you both had ignored it all. “Do you remember what it was about?” You question.

“I was thinking about other stuff.” He doesn’t continue not elaborating on the other stuff, most likely of a plan that he and Hanje would have to think up.

He takes you down an alleyway, the opposite direction of where you were staying, “are we not going back?”

He was in front dragging you along by the hand, he looked back to you, something different in his grey eyes. His mouth was almost in a smile as he continued to drag you along, in those second she had looked back to see you he had seen warmth.

“I overheard one of them say that another event was occurring.” Of course it was about the mission, you didn’t speak just following along.

The alley led way and you were in an open area; you saw the streets filled with merchants and businessmen. Noticing a tower you see it to be a watch tower, it looked beautiful, maybe there was some pretty stuff in this hell hole. Levi watched your eyes skim through ever intricate detail of the building. Seeing people go up and down it he took a note of where it was and how easily it would be to get inside after dark.

The event was another propaganda event, people cheered at the hatred of the Eldians, even throwing bottles of alcohol at some Marleyan children who had come back from war. You looked at them, they had something to them, one stared directly in your eyes. You dismisses the blond boy and his group of friends, listening to the speeches.

Hanje had told you and Levi to go to as many of these events as you could, just to hear the hatred. It felt like a stab in the neck listening to the many speeches, but both you and Levi had gotten distracted by each other.

Your soft fingers had been entangled in his own for hours now, your thumb occasionally rubbing up and down his finger. He hadn’t felt this type of love in years and it was coming from you, the only woman who could handle and stick by him.

You both were at the final event ready to hear the countless indoctrination to what felt like the one hundredth time today. You felt a wandering hand touch your other arm, it instantly made you flinch, making Levi look at you. He noticed the Marleyan man behind you, his hand moving closer and closer to your body.

You were at the back luckily if you started something nobody would notice. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go get a drink.”

His voice filled you with disgust, you were ready to knock him unconscious before you heard Levi speak, “she’s with me.” It was with an unamused tone and he didn’t give the man a second glance.

“What’s a pretty woman like you doing with a shortcake like him? I’ll show you what its like to be with a real man.” You gave the same look Levi had given, you had to give it to the man, the nickname was funny. You looked at Levi, waiting for a sign for you to kill the man.

“Let’s move this somewhere else.” Is all Levi said, taking your hand, the man followed stupidly. He took you to the alleyway, looking at you with no emotion.

“You want to give me and your girl some alone time.” You looked at disgust at how he was about to reach for your arm, just as he skimmed his touch against your bare skin. Levi stood between the two of you. “Move it.”

Levi didn’t speak, staying in the spot in front of you, “I said fucking move boy.”

“Let me do it.” You whined out knowing Levi was going to punch him.

Levi ignored your childish moan to have some action and instead punched him square in the nose. He really was humanity’s strongest solider, with that one punch the man was down. “He’s not dead, is he?” You question kicking the corpse.

“Come on, don’t touch it.” He says grabbing your hand, you oblige, rubbing circles around the bruises knuckles. He watched you bring comfort through the pain; the man had had such rough face that it felt like punching a titan.

He didn’t need to have punched him; he could have left you to do what you wanted. But he had touched you, he had tried to make a move on what was his. You may have not known it, but nobody touches what he owns. Nobody touches what was his.

The night had fallen, the stars dancing through the blues and blacks of the sky. You looked up seeing the beauty of the stars whilst Levi looked at you noticing the beauty that you had. You were about to walk in the direction of the street your accommodation was, but Levi stood still.

“Close your eyes.” You looked at him in confusion. “Just do it, you damn brat.”

You laughed at the word before closing your eyes, you felt his hand move to your shoulder and elbow. Directing you past the people, you could hear mumbling, but you trusted the man to not lead you into a wall or the river for that matter.

He let go feeling like it was your cue to open your eyes, he quickly put his hand around your face. He could feel your eyelashes brush against his palms, “I didn’t say you could open them.”

“Sorry Levi.” You mutter, he loved hearing the way you said his name, it was enchanting and almost seductive. He let go of your face, you missed his touch, as you stood with the wind blowing through you. You undid your hair tie letting your hair cascade onto you whilst you waited.

You heard something being broken almost like someone kicked it. He takes your hand whilst you keep a tight grip on and start walking you with him. Your hand brushed against the cold brick, Levi keeping a hold of you making sure you didn’t fall.

The air hit you again, it moved through your hair, Levi admired how beautiful you looked up in the air, the dark sky up for you both to see. “Can I open my eyes now?” You give a soft chuckle.

“Yeah.” He speaks, your eyes adjust to light coming from the moon.

Joy, happiness every emotion of love was felt through you, you turned to look around the watch tower you had been looking at a mere hours ago. “You noticed.” It was a whisper hesitant that he might have just liked it himself.

He leant against the cobble and brick, his gaze flicking between your face specially your eyes and to where you were looking. “I always notice you, Y/n.”

Your heart panged, he started to walk towards you, your back against the brick, the sky in your eyeline. “It’s amazing.” You whisper.

“You always did love the sky.” He mutters it, enforcing the idea that he had always paid attention to you. He knew everything about you even if you didn’t blatantly tell him.

“I…” You didn’t know what to say, instead trailing off, he had gotten closer to you, he undid the first couple of buttons to feel the air that blown through your hair.

You looked up to the sky, not meeting his ever-growing gaze, “look at me.”

“Yes sir.” The sir seemed ever more sexual than usual and you looked him dead in the eyes, his gaze flicking to your lips and eyes.

“Since the first day I met you, I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” It was out of character for the emotionless captain, but your eyes had become soft at his confession.

“Re…really?”

He looks to meet your eyes directly, “I love you.”

It was the three words you needed to here to grab his hair, pulling him towards you. It was messy, lips smashing together, teeth to teeth, it was long awaited and needed. He grabbed your waist bringing you closer to his body, rubbing circles around your sides. A soft moan came from your mouth, it was heaven to his ears, you had imagined kissing Levi in every possible scenario. But this, this was something new and unexpected and here you were kissing the man who you had longed for.

The man who you had spent countless nights dreaming of the man who had saved you countless times. Who had held you in the air past the titans so you could leave the final blow.

His hair wrapped between your fingers, his tongue guiding your own. Soft moans and grunts coming from the tower, it was he start of something in a place that was filled with hell. But he had finally accepted that he didn’t just like you, he needed to protect you. Needed to make you know he loved you, make you know that after all these years the only person he had ever seen was you.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan levi x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fluff #aot #aot levi #aot levi ackerman #attack on titan levi ackerman x reader #aot levi x reader #aot x reader #aot levi ackerman x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #bakugohoex #aot fluff

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moonlightlullaby · 3 years

Text

no celebrations?

summary: Corpse and reader celebrate his birthday in the most chill way. Based on this lovely request (ty again for sending it!)

pairing: corpse husband x gn! reader

category: fluff

warnings: food ingestion; alcohol ingestion; loads of physical touch (let me know if I forgot to mention anything)

A/N: Hello (: This is such a lovely concept, I just couldn’t wait to get started hehe Also, I got a bit carried away and just went with it, so I’m really sorry if that’s not what you’d pictured. I do hope you enjoy it tho <3 Take care!

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Walking into our shared bedroom, I catch the sight of Corpse exiting the bathroom. As our eyes lock, my lips curl up tiredly and a long sigh I didn’t even know I’ve been holding finally frees itself. He sits on the edge of our bed and extends his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me so I stand in the space between his legs.

“How was the day?” he asks with both of his hands on my waist.

I hum, quirking a brow and tilting my head a bit “At least tomorrow - you know, the most unspecial, completely ordinary day of the year -” this earns a giggle from my boyfriend “is Sunday and I can just ignore all of that” I wave my hand in the direction of the adjacent room, where my laptop - filled with texts, assignments, spreadsheets and appointed Zoom calls - is.

At my words, Corpse wraps his arms around my figure, pulls my body even closer to him and plants a kiss on my stomach through my shirt. My hands, in turn, caress his upper back and soft hair.

Coming in contact with the string of his eyepatch in the process, I lean back slightly, which causes him to shoot up at me with a small frown and pouty lips. He sits still, though, as I carefully remove his eyepatch, and, while his eyes are still closed, I give each of his lids a peck. He smiles and tilts his head up to meet my lips in a long, tender and effortless kiss. Oh finally.

The idea of quarantining together was welcomed as a blessing by both of us. It meant more time spent together after all. However, with my school and work demands and Corpse’s irregular schedule, we still barely see each other throughout the day in spite of being a few feet apart from one another. And when bedtime rolls in, we’re both so exhausted all we can do is mumble words that could be counted in the fingers of one hand before drifting off. This, of course, when my boyfriend doesn’t stay up until dawn working. Don’t get me wrong, I’m his number 1 fan and admire his passion and all the hard work he puts in everything he sets his mind to, but I’m also not going to lie and say I don’t miss his warmth at night. Hence I want to devote this Sunday to him.

After a while, I break the silence “I’ll be right back.”

I let go of his hold and take my turn to use the bathroom. After doing my night routine, brushing my teeth and getting into my cozy pajamas, I walk back in the dark room and lie down, settling myself back in Corpse’s hug like two puzzle pieces matching together.

~~~~~

The excitement for a new day - not any day, no, but August 8th - washes over me as soon as I open my eyes and get a glimpse of the sleepy boy next to me.

A couple of minutes go by as I contemplate on getting up, torn between prolonging our cuddling for some more and doing something to show Corpse my appreciation for him. The latter wins and I, cautious not to wake him up, slowly unwrap my arms from him and step out of the bed. Drawing the curtains to make sure the summer daylight doesn’t disturb his peaceful state of mind, I make my way out of the room and to the kitchen.

Wondering what to make for breakfast, I take a good look around until my eyes catch the plethora of fruits we’ve bought a few days ago. Fruit salad it is.

Corpse has, for as long as we’ve known each other, made it very clear he isn’t too fond of his anniversary and similar celebrations - and, even if he hadn’t explained it to me, it’s rather evident how uncomfortable they make him. This year, his friends’ and especially his fans’ hype for the date - although unintentionally - has added an extra layer of unease to it all, to which I don’t intend to contribute.

Even though I don’t want to make matters worse and would never overstep his boundaries like this (because, thankfully, I’m not Betty Cooper and he isn’t Jughead Jones), I still want to celebrate Corpse. I want to celebrate his birth and his existence, which I’m immensely grateful for. He’s both the best friend I can confide in blindly and the lover I want to share my lifetime with. He sticks to his truth and dreams higher than I could ever imagine. He turns the darkness in the world and in his mind into light with his words and with his laugh. Having him in my life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and seeing him fly makes me more proud than I can put into words.

There’s a lot to toast to, so the solution is a celebration that is so smooth and so chill - the smoothest and most chill possible - that it doesn’t even feel like one. Just log off and enjoy a laid back day together.

As I chop a kiwi and make a mental list of fun and uncomplicated things we can do that don’t require much time and many skills, in walks Corpse, in an old white tee which is one too many sizes bigger than him and in his black sweatpants. He rubs his eyes and lets a raspy “good morning”.

“Mornin- wow! They really weren’t lying when they said when you hit 24, hotness knocks at your door”

He chuckles and shakes his head “No one’s said that”

“Well, then consider yourself the muse of a new proverb, baby”

He scrunches up his nose in response before grabbing the cup of orange juice I’d placed on the counter and taking a gulp.

“Thank you” he turns my face and gives me an orange-flavoured kiss, neither of us having ever really cared about morning breath.

“For calling you hot? Oh save it to when I’m done with the list of cheesy compliments I have for you” I take a grape and before I can get it in my mouth, he steals it, with wrinkles on the corner of his eyes.

“Then we’d be here for eternity!” he’s not wrong.

Corpse helps me put the fresh fruits in bowls and, with them and our juice cup in hand, we head to the balcony. Sitting next to each other, we calmly eat, take in the light blue sky and the cars and passersby changing the scenery ahead of us. Conversation flows naturally.

As we empty our bowls - after stealing many bits from each other -, I twist in my seat and face him “Hey, Corpse, do you see this?” I point to the very prominent and familiar dark circles under my eyes. “Wanna help me get rid of them?” I ask, knowing damn well it’d take a lifetime for them to actually go away and not giving up regardless.

~~~~~

The bathroom is filled with chatter and laughter and the sink, with hair clips, scrunchies, a sharpie, bowls, hair products and a towel. Corpse hisses as our cool homemade face mask comes in contact with his skin. His curly hair is pushed back and held by a blue hairband and I apply the mask to his face, making sure not to leave any spots uncovered. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, which becomes an unnecessarily challenging task when my lovely partner can’t be still for more than two seconds.

He kept switching between dancing to Soulmate, by Mac Miller, and mouthing its lyrics. Now that I got him - after a small threat that I wouldn’t hesitate putting this weird mix we made in his pretty mouth - to keep his lips together, the (adorable, admittedly) swaying, however, continues. He stops momentarily, only to shuffle things around right after.

Something cold touches my skin, making it my turn to let out a hiss this time. The sound is accompanied by a small jump, caused by the surprise. Corpse chuckles and, when I glance at the spot on my arm the cold thing came in contact with, I realize it’s just the sharpie. All he does is give me a mischievous smile.

While I keep massaging his face and covering it with the mask, Corpse litters my body with his drawings. Smiley faces, lightning bolts, hearts, clouds... his repertoire is vast and any exposed skin he can find becomes his canvas. Each line causing me to giggle and shudder a little. With him focused on his creations, it’s 10 times easier for me to complete my task.

“Alright, my turn” he states, smiling, and I’m quick to grab the sharpie.

As he adjusts a matching hairband on my head, I put a dainty heart on his neck. And, as he takes the bowl in his hands, I swiftly plant a kiss on top of the drawing. At this, he sighs in content and my chest gets warmer.

I soon understand how hard it was for him to stay still as Stay comes on and all I want to do is have a little karaoke session and dance. Corpse entertains himself with my struggle and, because it’s his birthday, I’ll let it slide. So, to make the whole process easier, instead of focusing on the song, I focus on the gorgeous face in front of me. A beautiful face to a beautiful soul.

One of the various perks of sharing an apartment with Corpse is I get to see this face in all ways: sleepy, completely clean - no makeup, no mask -, all wrinkled in the morning, red when he’s embarrassed or when he laughs too hard… His laughter. Its sound pulls me from my trance “You’re staring, y/n”

“Well, at least I wasn’t moving around, Corpse” I reply with squinted eyes and nudge his side playfully.

We begin collecting the things scattered across the sink and storing them in the cabinet, and the song comes to an end, giving way to Dang!

“How long do we keep these on?”

I hum at the question and check the playlist on shuffle on my phone “How does 5 minutes and 2 seconds sound?”

Facing him, his grin mirrors mine and he spins me around. We laugh and allow ourselves to be as goofy as possible, jamming and moving our limbs around with a green paste on our faces.

~~~~~

After washing off the masks in the shower and painting our nails - so we’re both rocking the black nail polish look -, we’ve set our minds to - finally - finish the puzzle we started two months ago. It’s a 90’s anime setting inspired composition and we’d gotten about 40% of it done before our schedules got more hectic and the game, well, pushed aside. For weeks, the pieces sat on the ground of our living room and silently judged us every time either of us stepped to the side, as we crossed the room, in order not to crush them.

Sitting around the puzzle with comfy clothes, we team up against it and indulge in the wine Corpse’s got us and the hawaiian pizza I’ve ordered.

As the picture comes more and more to life, moments of comfortable silence and of chattery - when we talk about anything from our shopping list and gossip about our neighbours’ lives to parallel universes and the matrix - follow one another. A different playlist on shuffle is our background noise.

Time flies and the sun’s already hidden when it clicks to us that there are only 5 pieces left. Each piece is fitted in the whole with a giddier feeling than the previous. Corpse picks the last one - deep blue with purple and black specks - and turns to me with an excited smile and an eager gaze that I’m sure are mirrored on my face. I nod encouragingly. He places it in the puzzle and celebratory sounds fill the room.

Corpse stretches his arms and pulls me in a hug, but, since we’re both kneeling and because of the distance between us, we end up falling and lying on the ground in rather uncomfortable positions.

“Come on, puzzle, that was easy breezy! Gotta step up your game if you really wanna challenge this duo right here!”

“Oh for sure!” Corpse squeaks as we laugh at our nonsensical brag.

After a moment while we catch our breath, he rubs my back and speaks, pulling my attention to him “Not that I’m not loving this position, but what if we watched some Drag Race?”

Is this man real? If I couldn’t feel his heart beating under me or his arms around my figure, I’d be sure he’s just a figment of my imagination. “But it’s your b- don’t you wanna choose something you like more? Li-”

“Nope,” he boops my nose “Drag Race, or maybe Love Island, would be great right now.” And people still dare say the perfect man doesn’t exist!

“You’re such a dream!” I give him a quick peck before continuing “Ok, so I put on the show and you get more wine…?” He hums in approval and stands up. Our eyes briefly jump from each other to the puzzle and back to each other, then we simply nod. A silent agreement to leave the puzzle here. We’re both too lazy to put all the pieces back in the box and too proud of our achievement to let it go just yet; besides, everything’s been sitting here for about two months, what are a few more hours?

He steps to the side, gets our glasses and makes his way to the kitchen. I lie on the couch and scan Netflix for Drag Race. Corpse comes back, placing the glasses next to the couch, and gently lies down on top of me. He nests his head on my chest and we both hum contently.

While RuPaul announces what the winner’s prize will be, I play with his hair, letting my fingers knead his curls. His right hand flies up to meet mine and I bring our intertwined hands to my lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses. The gesture is cut by a loud laugh that escapes my lips as miss Vanjie Mateo’s iconic moment replays on the screen.

“Hey,” Corpse’s voice makes me look right back at him “I love you. You know that, right?”

My heart melts at his words and at the way he’s looking at me right now. I nod with a smile.

“I love you too, birthday boy.”

#corpse husband imagine #corpse imagine #corpse x y/n

99 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

hey Steph, really adore your blog. I saw your ask about s3 and s4 John and his anger. do you have any pics that deal with that? I think his anger is caused by his jealousy. he loves Sherlock and is deeply insecure about S's love for him. I'd love to find some fics that actually deal with all of that. thank you. x

Hey Nonny!!

I DO!!! Been waiting for another ask to finally get this list up and out! Hope you find something you enjoy on this one! <3

ANGRY / CRANKY JOHN

See also:

Jealous John b/c of Other People

Jealous John

Jealous John Pt. 2 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 2

Jealous John Pt 3 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 3

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 4

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 5

Texts and Tea by JillianWatson1058 (K, 959 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Texting, Humour, Fluff, POV John, Cranky John) – A John who is woken up at 2:30 in the morning is not a happy John. Sherlock, frankly, doesn’t care. He just wants his tea.

And, Usually, He's the One Who GIVES Me a Headache by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,315 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, POV John, Cranky John, Headaches, Head Massage) – A migraine is never fun.

Hallucinations can't open doors by Bespectacled dreamer (K+, 1,330 w., 1 Ch. || Reunion, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Hallucinations, John’s Wedding, Light Humour) – In which John gets married and Sherlock gets a broken nose.

The 3x John Carried Sherlock, and Once ViceVersa by ShinkonoKokoro (K+, 1,673 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Friendship, Three and One, BAMF John, Sherlock Whump, Worried Sherlock, John Gets Shot) – It happens more than he suspects.

Baskerville After Dark by Ttime42 (T, 1,921 w., 1 Ch. || THoB, Friendship, Humor, Bed Sharing, Missing Scenes, Cranky John, Cuddles) – John and Sherlock have to share a bed at Baskerville. Gen, but can be preslash.

Stay by sussexbound (M, 2,067 w., 1 Ch. || Post TAB, Suicidal Ideation Mention, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Love Confessions, Frottage, Coming in Pants) – “Why? Why did you do it? Hmm…?” He takes a deep breath, waits, lets it out again. “Look at me.” There’s no denying him when he takes this tone. “Why did you kill him? Hmm…? For her? After…” A muscle twitches in the corner of John’s eye, and he clamps his jaw down tightly, swallows and sniffs a little before continuing. “For her? After everything she’s done?” “For you.” Before he can even stop himself. Just like that.

Denial Isn’t Just a River in Egypt by satanatemycat (T, 2,107 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Texting, Bored/Cranky Sherlock) – In which John makes a bet with a co-worker. If he wins, she shuts up about him and Sherlock being a couple. If he loses… well, that doesn’t matter, because he won’t lose. Because he and Sherlock ARE NOT a couple. Right?

Nothing Left Untouched by ForeverShippingJohnlock (K+, 2,617 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Bed Sharing, Oblivious Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Grumpy John, Fluff and Cuddles) – Sherlock rearranges the flat. So what if John's bedroom is now a research library. It's not like John needs a bedroom, he can share with Sherlock. They're friends and John has obviously slept in close quarters with men before and it's not like Sherlock sleeps much anyway. It'll be fine.

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John's danger days.

Extraordinary by ardenteurophile (T, 2,739 w., 7 Ch. || Angst, Pining, Romance, Second Person POV Sherlock, Pre-Slash) – Sherlock tries to understand his preoccupation with one Doctor John Watson - the one case he can never solve.

BBCSH 'The Comfort of Company' by tigersilver (T, 2,769 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF/Mary, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Bed Sharing, Grumpy John, Touching, Clingy/Handsy Sherlock, Cranky Sherlock, Fluff and Light Angst) – It's a trope that John and Sherlock end up sharing in the same bed eventually and I admit I do adore it unconditionally, along with all it infers as to the lowering of defenses and the heightening of trust. I put forth for your consideration that the notion persists because those who think about these things realize these two men are each in dire need of some good company.

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

Bathroom Accessories by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 3,324 w., 1 Ch. || Sex Toys, Butt Plug, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Horny Sherlock, John’s Patience Wears Thin, Humour, Bottomlock) – John discovers that Sherlock has been playing with some very adult toys in the bath.

After the Bombs by VampirePam (T, 3,337 w., 2 Ch. || THoB AU, Drugs, John’s PTSD, Panic Attack, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock, Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – In which the drugs Sherlock used to dose John trigger a severe episode of PTSD. When terrors old and new cause John to fall apart, Sherlock must rectify his mistake and pick up the pieces.

Breakfast, acronyms and brotherhood by Rose de Sharon (K+, 4,074 w., 1 Ch. || TBB Fic, Friendship/Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Fluff) – Set after The Blind Banker: my take of Sherlock and John's conversation over breakfast. S/J friendship, bromance, no slash.

Afghanistan in Baskerville by Amaya Ramiel (K+, 4,357 w., 1 Ch. || THoB Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drugged John, PTSD / Panic Attack, Hallucinations, Worried Sherlock, John’s Past, Friendship) – What if John hadn't seen the hound when Sherlock trapped him in the lab? What if instead, his very real nightmares of the war had materialized all around him? Trapped and drugged, John can't tell what's real and what's not. How will Sherlock react?

What John Doesn't Know (Won't Hurt Him) by blueink3 (NR [T], 4,392 w., 1 Ch, || S3 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Snippets of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Fluff and Angst, Five and One, Hopeful Ending, POV Sherlock) – Five people who see Sherlock's scars before John Watson. But Sherlock's secrets were never something he could keep from his blogger for long.

Overture by Kate_Lear (M, 4,435 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Angry John, Introspection, Dev. Rel., Embarassed / Insecure Sherlock, Morning After, Bed Sharing, Cuddles / Limpet Sherlock) – A short snippet on how John and Sherlock might have got together.

When Your Belly's in the Trench by Morgan_Stuart (T, 4,743 w., 1 Ch. || PTSD, Character Study, Rescue, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Torture, Trauma, Danger, Drama, Kidnapping/Captivity) – The next time that door opens, John Watson will kill the person on the other side.

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 5,034 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

This Year by DiscordantWords (T, 6,283 w., 2 Ch. || TEH Divergence / No Mary, New Year’s Eve, John’s A Mess, Jealous John, Awkward Conversations, Trapped in a Closet, Estranged After Return, John POV, Semi-Reunion, Angry John, First Kiss, Reconciliation, Clueless Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Last year, Sherlock Holmes showed up at the Landmark with a fake moustache and a bad French accent and threw John's entire life into disarray with two words: "Not dead." This year, there are more surprises in store.

An Interpretation of Viewing Habits by akitsuko (E, 6,653 w., 1 Ch. || Porn Watching, Masturbation, Anal, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fantasizing, John in Denial / Internalized Homophobia, Bottomlock, Pining Idiots, Sherlock Has No Boundaries, Cockblocking Sherlock) – John watches porn. It's a perfectly normal thing to do.If every video he watches happens to feature actors with remarkable physical similarities to his flatmate, well, that's no one's business but his own. Or: John is in denial, until his infatuation with Sherlock is impossible to deny anymore.

BANG by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 7,016 w., 3 Ch. || Post-TGG AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Worried / Scared Sherlock, Alternating POV, Whump, Hospital Recovery, Open Ending) – 'I should warn you,' Sherlock says, his voice steady and his eyes fixed on Moriarty. 'You are sadly misinformed.' And he fires. Prequel to M Is For Moriarty

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5, 798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) – When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalize Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Shuteye Shenanigans by Ayakae (K+, 13,263 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Epic Bromance, John’s Nightmares, Angsty Fluff, Bed Sharing, Humour, Cuddles, Taking Care of Each Other, Domestics) – John Watson has never slept with Sherlock Holmes. Never ever ever. And never will, thank you very much. Well, there was that one time, but John didn't count that. It was completely different, just like the second time it happened. And the third. And the fourth. Epic bromance, but it can be read as pre-slash if you wish.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination?, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.

To Mend Icarus by AlessNox (T, 28,347 w., 14 Ch. || Post-TRF / Pre-S3 Divergence, BAMF John, Anger, Fighting, Sex, Bed Sharing, Stalking, Case Fic, John’s Past, Introspection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crime, Mythology, Darkness) – After a case lands John Watson in court, he tells Sherlock that he is leaving. Not understanding why, Sherlock decides that the only way to learn the truth is to investigate his flatmate, Dr. John Watson. Sherlock finds that coming back is not enough to fix all of the damage that he caused by leaving. A post Reichenbach, post reunion re-discovery fic.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

The Real Great Perfumers by shelleysprometheus (E, 45,355 w., 68 Ch. || Case Fic, Alternating POV, Gay Sherlock / Bi John, Canon Compliant with Divergence at TRF, Friends to Lovers, Oral / Anal, Pining, First Kiss / Time, Dev. Rel., Drugging, Body Worship, Bathing, Love Confessions, Travelling, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock, BJ’s, Alternating POV, Jealous John) – The case, this case. This extraordinary, fascinating, scintillating case. A house. Designed entirely by its eccentric owner, built by no less than five hundred expert tradesmen in the heart of Marrakesh. A house that had, seemingly not only driven its owner out, but also to his quite unpleasant death. And a perfumer, a chemist no less, the very thought of the secrets that house could reveal, would reveal was irresistible. Sherlock had to have this case ... and it seems, he also had to have John! Part 1 of the Forethought and Fire series

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU || Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock, John Separated From His Child) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w., 12 Ch. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #angry john #cranky john #my fic recs #long post

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akemiiiii · 3 years

Text

Like waves crashing.

[before anything else, i know i only put my art here, but I do write from time to time hehe, so I'm sharing this one with you all, much love! I hope you enjoy it!]

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“What the fuck?”

The first thing that Iwaizumi registers in his sleep-addled mind is that the bed is too soft. It did not feel like the firm mattress he always sleeps on in his apartment.

The second thing he registers is the soft scent of bergamot and pine which reminds him of Oikawa.

Which was definitely weird because Oikawa isn’t anywhere remotely near him at the moment, in fact, he clearly remembers he was 6 thousand miles away.

His eyes open to see a white ceiling, a grey duvet cover, and the king-sized bed he was currently on.

”What the fuck?”

Iwaizumi was thoroughly confused. He doesn’t remember anything that would sufficiently explain where he was.

The last thing he does remember was his sleep-deprived thoughts of missing Tooru because they’d yet to see each other for a year now and a pixelated face on a screen does not count.

And now here he is on a soft mattress that does wonders for his body, a room he does not recognize, and a scent that reminds him so much of his best friend.

“Did I die from missing Tooru so much?” Iwa anxiously gets up from the bed and heads to what he assumes is the cabinet. Right now, the idea of lying half-naked on a stranger’s bed did not seem appealing.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth for reasons unknown to him. But as Iwaizumi scrambles to open the cabinet, his sight lands on two very conspicuous shirts.

Hanging isolated on the right end of the closet was a black shirt that housed a small Japanese flag right above where a heart would be when worn. Besides the black shirt is a blue jersey, a huge ‘13’ smack right in the middle with an Argentine flag on the corner.

For the 3rd time that day, Iwaizumi curses.

Was Tooru already 1st string on his team? Was he already playing for Argentina? Wait, no, that’d be impossible Tooru would have to be an Argentine citizen for that ti happen.

Thoughts beeline in his brain, too fast for him to process. While Iwa was trying to understand what he was seeing, voices past the door of the room catch his attention.

Iwa stands still, eyes wide, fearing he’d be caught. Any hopes of these people leaving burn to dust as the knob turns slightly.

Then his eyes meet the soft brown burned and buried into his heart.

“Tooru?” Iwaizumi doesn’t take notice of the fact that Oikawa’s taller, bulkier, and more tanned. He was too happy to finally see his best friend after a year of not having him near that he barrels past the unfamiliar room to crush said man into a fierce hug.

“...Iwa-chan?” Oikawa squeaks out

“Tooru! Gods, I missed your stupid face, how are you here? Why are you here?” at this Iwa moves back to glare at the man “You better not have skipped out on your practices dumbass, you know better than to…”

“What the fuck?” The fourth curse surprisingly does not come from Iwaizumi. Well, not from the one who just bear-hugged Oikawa.

Iwa’s eyes move from Oikawa’s wide-blown eyes, past his shoulder, to see his own face staring back at him. A more muscled, more robust, maybe slightly taller version of himself.

Iwa curses for the fifth time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait, wait, wait, you mean to say it is currently 2024?” Iwaizumi asks this supposedly adult Tooru.

“Yeah! We’re like, 30 now, Iwa-chan!” For the most part, Tooru looks extremely amused at what was happening that he couldn’t stop looking back and forth between the younger Iwa and the older.

“Damn, Iwa-chan, look at all the wrinkles you’ve accumulated, I told you all that scowling was gonna stay.” Oikawa chatters on excitedly

“Shut up ‘kawa” On the other hand, Iwa’s older counterpart now looks on calmly, as if this mind-blowing event was a normal part of his everyday life.

“Wait, you said we’re in Japan? And we’re...living together?? What about Argentina? Did you come back to Japan after all? But that wouldn’t explain the jersey…” There was so much Iwa wanted to ask about, but these were his topmost concerns.

“Hmmm, how much am I allowed to say? Will this affect the past? How did you even get here?” Oikawa directs the first 2 questions to the Iwaizumi closer to him (the adult one) and directs the last one to the Iwa sitting in front of them.

“I suppose you can say the condition we’re in now. But not the major ones.” The adult Iwaizumi offers

“But Iwa-chan! How am I supposed to know which ones are ‘major’ ones?!” Oikawa whines out, dramatically air quoting his statement.

The older Iwa heaves a sigh and faces his counterpart, “Yeah, we’re living together, we’re in Japan, as for Argentina, you’ll know in time.”

“...Huh.” Younger Iwa just huffs at that, but living together wasn’t really a big issue, in the back of his mind, Iwa thinks he knew all along that they would end up like that anyway.

Living with your best friend doesn’t really pose any much problem for him, plus he’d get to spend the days with Oikawa at his side and take care of his dumbass, so it’d be a win-win.

Younger Iwa still doesn’t realize why exactly he was very much pleased with the information that he and Oikawa living together was a great thing.

“Wait, I wanna know how old you are though Iwa-chan, you look almost the same as I remember when we were high school, but with major eye-bags.” Oikawa shifts closer, and younger Iwa stares at the freckles prominent on his face, the wide smile, and something in him clicks.

The one difference that he couldn’t pin, the one thing that made him believe that this Tooru really wasn’t his Tooru. This Tooru exuded happiness. Exuded contentedness.

He must’ve stared too long because Oikawa’s clearing of the throat makes snaps him out of whatever he was trying to comprehend.

“..Ah. well you aren’t exactly wrong, its been a year or so after we graduated as seniors. I’m at the end of the 2nd sem of college,” Iwa explains

“Holy fuck, that’d make you 19, ah youth! You’re so young let me pinch your cheeks!” Oikawa doesn’t wait for the go before both hands grab at younger Iwa’s chubby cheeks.

“Ha-ji-me~~ your baby fats are all still here! How wonderful!”

The sudden use of first name leaves Iwa blushing in Oikawa’s hands, panicked eyes seek help from the man beside Oikawa but adult him just laughed at his plight.

“Oi, ‘Kawa stop, he’ll combust.”

“You mean, you’ll combust?” Oikawa turns his head to face his Iwaizumi and wiggles his eyebrows. Younger Iwa doesn’t miss the gleam of affection that passes his eyes, and suddenly he is very aware of the lack of insults these two were trading.

If they were them, in the future, surely they’d have the same amount of banter he and Oikawa have, right? the roughhousing and all that, right?

But the only thing Iwa sees are casual touches here and there.

Like a switch, Iwa realizes a lot of things.

The apartment seemed to only have one master bedroom. In that room was a king-sized bed. With two pillows. The closet seems to house both of their clothes.

Oikawa was leaning into adult Iwa’s space more than the usual Oikawa would have been to younger Iwa.

There was a lot of gentle and almost, Iwa daresay, loving affectionate stares the two in front of him kept having in this hour alone.

And the most glaring, most shocking, most unbelievable thing Iwa has finally, finally noticed: The shining, demanding gleam of two matching rings.

“Are you married?” Iwa blurts out, the need to know suddenly engulfing him in ways he can’t fathom. How? Why? Since when?

The two in front of him exchange glances. And as an answer, both lace their fingers together. It is the older him that speaks softly, “Yeah.”

The word silences him. Once again, thoughts swim in his mind furiously crashing back and forth like waves.

How? Did he actually love Tooru all this time or did he come to fall in love with him? Was it when they were separated??

Why? Was this a need or a want or a what? What exactly could be the reason that they’d end up married???

Since when? When did they fall in love, when did they decide on marriage, when did they realize that the other was the one person they wanted to spend their entire lives with?

Iwa’s mind was a mess, but honestly, he knew every answer. He was probably in love with his best friend. No, not probably. Definitely. He started the moment they met and never stopped.

He loved Tooru. Loved his stupid collection of alien merch, loved the way his eyes lit up when they were on call, loved the way he took the spot next to Iwa as if that was where he was always supposed to be.

Iwaizumi loved and hated the way he was separated from Tooru, because of the space it left and because of the growth it pushed in them.

In the back of his mind, Iwaizumi hoped, wished, and knew that whatever their future may be, he’d always be beside Tooru, even if they were physically apart.

He’d known for years now that his future would have been with Tooru because the only future he pictured himself happy was with Tooru.

Fuck, he was in love with his best friend.

“Holy shit.” Iwa breathes out.

“Yep. Hard to swallow that you’re in love with this ass right?” Older him chuckles out, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder

“Hey! I’m a fine piece of ass. You’re lucky enough you got me!” Oikawa shoves back, the smile evident behind his pouting face.

“I really am.” The casual confidence in which his adult self replies to this is another blow to Iwa.

He fell in love with his best friend.

He gets to live with his best friend.

He gets to marry his best friend.

He gets to spend the rest of his life loving the person who has always made his soul feel alive.

“I love that I’m getting to see firsthand your reaction to realizing you’re in love with me.” Oikawa pinches the younger Iwa’s cheek with his free hand, and all pleasant thoughts of Tooru fly away, getting replaced with irritation at his smug smile.

“Well, knowing me, you have no other option but to fall in love with me Iwa-chan. I mean really, did you really think you’d get rid of me that easily?? My bi realization happened in junior high, you shit!”

Oikawa’s hold on his cheek strengthens, as he forcefully wiggles Iwa’s face right and left. Adult Iwa was apparently finding it amusing.

“Like what the hell! You were up in my room all shirtless in summer when it’s hot! And sweat!! And you had the fucking gall to play wrestle me without even knowing the internal turmoil I was having!”

Oikawa finally lets go of his abused cheeks, it was probably beet red from the amount of force he used to pinch, but also because of the words Oikawa was spewing.

“To be fair, ‘kawa, you liked the play wrestles because you said it gave you a reason to touch the developing muscles I had.” adult Iwa smooths over.

“It was still unfair because up until we were seniors I was literally dropping hints left and right and the entire fuckin’ team knew, and you were still there being the slowest idiot I have ever encountered in my life. Even your parents knew, how slow can you be Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa’s glare was directed at older Iwa, but it could have also been aimed at him from the amount of mortification he had. So that was why Oikawa loved holding hands when going home back then.

“Ah, the sweet taste of knowing the exact moment you realized you love me. Can’t believe it took for you to meet the future us to fucken know. Iwa-chan, you a rare breed.” Oikawa winks at him.

Older Iwa snorts, “Oh my god, never use that phrase again Tooru, what the fuck” He shoves him playfully, while Oikawa just wiggles his eyebrow back at him, prompting older Iwa’s fuller laugh.

And seeing this domestic scene in front of him somehow calms Iwaizumi enough to the point that everything in the world rearranges itself because he has found the answer that settles his very core.

“Ah. Times up.” Older Iwa says, looking straight at him. He dons a secretive smile, and for some reason, Iwa understands that he’s probably going to go back to the past now.

“Wait, last thing, are we happy? together?” Iwa frantically asks. Because no matter how he wants what this future paints, he wants what makes Oikawa happiest the most.

Adult Oikawa moves closer to him, leaving a lingering kiss on his forehead. “Ah, my Iwa-chan, I was never, will never be not happy when I’m with you. Now off you go! Don’t make things too hard for me, ‘kay?”

A last caress is what Iwa feels before he wakes up back in his shitty apartment with clustered notes and dirty laundry. It was currently afternoon, which means Tooru would be lounging in his own bed, probably reading.

Iwaizumi picks up his phone to ring him immediately. It’s answered in less than a minute, and the fluffy cocoon blanket of Tooru is what greets him first, before the scrunched-up nose of his best friend.

“You’re late Iwa-chan! Did you forget about lil’ ol’ me?” He pouts, and even though he was just with Tooru a second ago, he missed this Tooru still.

“Never. Hey Tooru.” The first name surprises Tooru, a blush rising, and before he would’ve just waved that off, but now that Iwa knows what he knows, he can easily see the pleased and happy gleam Tooru feels.

“Hey Hajime. So, how was your day?”

Iwa opens his mouth to tell him what he had just experienced, but adult Oikawa’s last words ring in his mind. It wouldn’t be fun at all if Hajime makes it known that he knows Tooru likes him, and him vice versa would it?

He closes his mouth and hides a grin. Nope. Not fun at all. Guess he’ll let things flow for now and keep Tooru at his feet. Someones gotta have to, right?

“Nothing much, I just woke up late, anyways tell me that gossip you had with your Abuela.”

“Oh yeah!! Iwa-chan you won’t believe what's happened, Juan’s partner got…”

Really, Iwaizumi muses that he should have realized long ago that he can’t imagine anybody else’s voice filling up his days in the future.

[Ok omg, tell me what you think, I know there're probably a lot of errors in grammar, hshshs, i'm still trying to get a hang of writing :D, I really hope you enjoyed reading this !!]

#iwaoi #iwaoi fanfiction #iwaoi drabble #iwaoi headcanon #hajime iwaizumi #tooru oikawa #iwaizumi fluff #oikawa fluff

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whumpwriterforlife · 3 years

Note

Your writing is always so amazing! There are so many of the bingo prompts that I would love to see what you do with, but I'll narrow it down. Could you please try stalking with Nyx? You write him so well, and as my current favorite character, I love seeing him put through the wringer. Thanks! <3

Why hello there! This is all your fault. Have 9k words of Stalking <3

Feat: Love confessions, soft moments and protective friends

Stalking

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Nyx Ulric, Cor Leonis, Libertus Ostium, Crowe Altius, Titus Drautos

Whumpee: Nyx Ulric (some Cor Leonis)

Word Count: 9190 (a.k.a HUGE)

Warnings: Gun violence, creepy stalker

Can be read on AO3 here

The date night was a success. This time it had been Nyx’s turn to choose the place, so he had taken Cor to Yama-chan’s. The food there was quite tame compared to the usual Galahdian foods so even Cor had survived that. It had been a fun and relaxing evening, one that was unfortunately coming to a close now.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,'' Nyx said, pressing a quick kiss to Cor’s cheek before getting out of the car. He wished they didn’t have to call it a night just yet but they both had to show up at work early in the morning. Nyx especially had gotten his own share of reprimands for coming in late or with a wrinkled uniform in the past, and he was dangerously close to the point of getting himself assigned on gate duty. Again.

One side of Cor’s lips twitched into a smile. “You’re not going to invite me in?”

“You know damn well we won’t be getting any sleep tonight if I do that.” Nyx huffed a laugh as he leaned in through the open window. Not that he would mind. “Besides, I think we should save some mystique for the relationship...don’t you?”

Cor snorted and twisted in his seat so Nyx could see just how unimpressed he was. “You just don’t want me to see what a mess your piece of shit apartment is.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Mystique, remember?” Nyx said as he stepped away from the car. “And your car stands out. It won’t be here in the morning if you leave it unattended.”

Cor made a face. “You need to move into a better neighborhood.”

Nyx shrugged. “I like it here.”

Cor gave him a dubious look but didn’t comment on it. “If you’re not inviting me in… I’ll be back to pick you up in the morning. Around seven?”

Nyx smiled at him. He had tried telling Cor he would take the subway, it was free for Glaives in uniform after all, but there was no changing Cor’s mind when he had decided to do something. ”Sounds good.”

They exchanged a few more words but then Cor was off. The smile stayed on Nyx’s lips as he made his way inside. It had been a really good night. There was so much more to Cor than he had ever thought. He made him feel good in a way no one else did. Gods, Nyx was really falling for him hard, there was no doubt about it.

Nyx hummed an old Galahdian song under his breath as he unlocked his door and stepped inside. He tossed his keys onto his desk and was in the process of taking off his jacket when he saw the giant letters on the wall above his bed.

He’s not good enough for you

Nyx’s blood ran cold. In a flash of blue there was a kukri in his hand. His apartment was small, there were few places for someone to hide in there. A quick sweep of the place revealed nothing. No items out of place — which was a minor miracle considering how frequent that had been in the past weeks — and no intruders.

“What the fuck?” Nyx walked over to the… message. The paint was still fresh and left a dark smudge on his finger when touched it. It couldn’t have been made that long ago, not with the way the smell was strong in the air as well. Nyx ran a hand through his hair and swore. There was definitely something shady going on.

The door had been locked. No one should have been able to get in, not unless they already had a key. Libertus was the only one with a copy of his key and Nyx knew he wouldn’t do something like this, none of his friends would. Somehow someone had gotten into his apartment though, possibly multiple times.

Nyx sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone. He chose the first number on the speed dial and waited.

The line crackled to life a few moments later with the disgruntled voice of his best friend. “Nyx? What the hell are you calling me at this time for, you know we got an early shift tomorrow!”

“Sorry, big guy, but this is kind of important.” Nyx said, bouncing his leg up and down restlessly. ”You have the key to my apartment?”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a huff from Libertus.“Don’t tell me you lost your key again.”

Nyx snorted with laughter despite the situation. Of course Libertus was never going to let him forget that one. ”No, not this time. I just need to know if you still have the key.”

“Why? What’s going on Nyx?” Libertus’ voice changed, a hint of confusion mixed with suspicion seeping into it. Nyx’s lips twitched up a tiny bit. Libertus had always had an ability, a sixth sense of some sort, to tell when something wasn’t right with him.

“You know how I told you about how my stuff keeps disappearing and all that?” Nyx asked as his gaze flickered back to the message. Just the sight of it made his skin crawl.

“Yeah?”

“I just came home and someone’s left a message on my wall,” Nyx said.

“Left a message… Nyx what’s going on?” Libertus asked, alarmed.

Nyx ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He really hoped this was someone playing an idiotic prank on him and nothing more. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you about the key. Do you still have it?”

“Yeah, I have the key,” Libertus told him and a moment later Nyx heard a door slam shut in the background. “I’ll be there in five, don’t do anything stupid.”

Then he hung up.

Nyx tossed his phone to the side and buried his head into his hands. This was messed up.

Libertus arrived exactly five minutes later, bursting through the door without bothering to knock. Nyx would’ve rolled his eyes if he hadn’t already been on edge because of the whole thing. He dropped his hands and watched as Libertus kicked off his shoes and eyed the apartment with a frown.

“What the fuck?” Libertus hissed as he saw the message. Nyx could see the exact moment he slipped into the ‘protective older brother’ mode with the way his shoulders tensed and eyes narrowed. “And you have no idea who could’ve done this?”

Nyx shook his head. “I locked the door before I left. You’re the only other person with a key.”

“Shit. There were no signs of forced entry?” Libertus asked and turned to look at him. “And what about your landlord? They should have a key.”

“My landlady is a sweet 80-year-old woman, she would never do anything like this.” Nyx snorted but grew serious fast. “Whoever got in here had to have a key though.”

Libertus sat down next to him, the bed creaking under them. “You think this has something to do with your stuff going missing?”

Nyx shrugged. “It would explain it. If someone has gotten access to my apartment, they could’ve easily taken my stuff too.”

“But why? Why would someone do that — this? It makes no sense.” Libertus made a disgruntled sound.

Nyx flopped onto his back and groaned. “I don’t know.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. Nyx didn’t know what he was going to do. The cops wouldn’t be any help. There was no real evidence of a break-in and, well, the cops weren’t exactly all that interested in what went down in the refugee district. That meant he would have to figure it out himself. Libertus and Crowe would most likely help, maybe even a few other glaives if he asked. Cor, too, possibly but Nyx didn’t want to bring that kind of pressure on their thing when they had only known each other for a few months.

“You can’t stay here.” Libertus said a few minutes later, breaking the silence.

“Lib,” Nyx began as he craned his head to look at his friend.

Libertus threw his hands in the air and growled. “Nyx, you’ve got to be kidding me! There’s someone out there with a key to your apartment — someone that has been coming here for gods know how long and you want to stay?”

“I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go to,” Nyx remarked and shifted to lie on his side, pointedly not looking at the message on the wall.

“Garulashit! You can always stay with me and you know it,” Libertus told him and nudged his leg as a mischievous smile spread over his lips. “And you’ve been getting all cozy with the Marshal too, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to have you over.”

“Shut up!” Nyx grumbled and made a half-hearted attempt to shove Libertus off the bed. Libertus just laughed and moved out of his reach.

“Speaking of which. You told him, right?” Libertus asked a moment later, making Nyx’s eyes narrow.

“Told him what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Libertus’ eyes narrowed right back. “You can’t seriously be thinking about not telling him! He has a right to know about the message.”

Nyx huffed and turned his attention to the poster on the ceiling. “I was going to tell him…”

It wasn’t a lie. He was going to tell Cor... at some point. He just needed to figure out how to do that first. It didn’t seem right to just text or call the man and inform him that oh yeah, while we were out on that date, someone broke into my apartment and wrote a creepy message on my wall about how they don’t think you’re good enough for me. Ugh.

“Sure you were.” Libertus didn’t believe a word he said. Not that Nyx blamed him, he probably wouldn’t have believed himself either. “Either you tell him or I will.”

“Lib!” Nyx yelped and sat up. Libertus looked every bit unimpressed as he stared Nyx down. Nyx crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Fine! I’ll tell him tomorrow after work. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” Libertus said dryly.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.” Libertus replied and grabbed Nyx’s arm to pull him up. “You’re staying the night at my place, grab your coat.”

“Lib!” Nyx didn’t whine. He did not.

Libertus ended up winning the ensuing staring contest and a couple of minutes later Nyx was somewhat reluctantly putting on shoes. He supposed he could stay at Libertus’ place for one night. It just wasn’t something he wanted to make a habit of.

“Alright, let’s go,” Libertus said and basically shoved Nyx out of the door as soon as he had grabbed his coat. “Just so you know, I’m blaming you when I’m falling asleep during my shift tomorrow.”

---

It took some creative measures but Nyx managed to escape from Libertus the following morning so he could catch a ride with Cor as promised. He went back to his place to grab his uniform — he had a feeling Drautos wouldn’t be too impressed by him showing up in his date attire — and was greeted by the lovely message on his wall. He had hoped it had been some bizarre nightmare but of course that wasn’t the case.

Nyx sighed. He would have to talk to his landlady about changing the locks at some point. The wall would need a new layer of paint too which meant he would have to make a stop at a hardware store after his shift. Wonderful. Nyx muttered a curse under his breath as he tossed his jacket over his shoulder and headed back out again, just in time to see Cor arrive.

“Morning,” Nyx greeted the man with a tiny, barely there smile as he sat down on the passenger seat. He still didn’t know what he was going to tell Cor or when. Libertus would go through with his threat to tell Cor if he didn’t do it himself and that would be a disaster Nyx wanted to avoid at all cost. But how was he supposed to tell Cor? He didn’t even know who was behind the whole thing or why.

“You look like you didn’t get much sleep,” Cor noted with a slight frown as he pulled back into traffic.

“Yeah, well that’s because I didn’t.” Nyx said. It was true, he hadn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep. He had spent most of the night trying to figure out who would do something like this but he had no idea. His friends might have been absolute menaces at times but they wouldn’t be stupid enough to paint on his wall. Not even Tredd would do anything like that. Then there was the whole thing with the key and there being only three copies that very few people had access to. It was a whole shitshow. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Cor made a thoughtful noise and a moment later he was pulling over again. He shifted the car onto park and turned in his seat to look at Nyx. “You know you can tell me if there’s something bothering you, right?”

“I- Yeah, I know,” Nyx sighed. He averted Cor’s probing gaze and chose to look out of the windshield instead. Cor was smart. It would be for the best if Nyx just told him now but just the idea made him nervous.He had no idea how Cor would react. There was an irrational fear lurking in the dark corner of his mind, trying its best to convince him that Cor would somehow think Nyx was crazy or too much trouble and leave him over this.

Even if that was the case, Nyx couldn’t keep it from him. Libertus had been right when he had said Cor had the right to know. The message had clearly been about Cor, and as such he deserved to know. The person behind the message could go after him, and he needed to be prepared if that happened.

“Listen, something happened last night,” Nyx hesitated, licking his lips as he tried to figure out what to say. “There was a message on my wall when I got home. Freshly painted. I think it’s connected to my stuff going missing.”

“What did it say?” Cor asked. There was something akin to concern in his voice. “Nyx?”

“It, uh, it said ‘He’s not good enough for you’.”

Cor was silent for a moment, and it gave Nyx the perfect amount of time to regret telling him. It had been a mistake. He should’ve just stayed quiet and-

“Well, fuck.”

Nyx laughed, taken aback by Cor’s response. Of all the things he had expected, that was not one of them. “That’s all you have to say?”

Cor did not look amused as he looked at Nyx. “Did you stay there last night?”

“No, Libertus had me stay with him.” Nyx shook his head. He felt like he should say something more but he didn’t know what.

“Good, I don’t want you to go back there alone before this is solved,” Cor told him firmly. “With your permission, I’d like to get a few of my trusted people on this. They’ll be careful and keep it under wraps, I promise.”

“Cor-” Nyx shifted uneasily. He wasn’t sure how to respond. It made his heart flutter, glad to see that Cor cared about him enough to do all that for him. At the same time, he worried it was too much. He didn’t want to burden Cor with any of this, especially not when he would essentially put more work on his plate if he assigned people to find the mystery person. “You don’t-”

“You can stay with me.”

Nyx blinked. “What?”

“Stay with me,” Cor repeated, his eyes carefully tracking Nyx’s reaction. “At my place.”

“I can’t just leave like that, there are people in Little Galahd that need me,” Nyx shook his head with a sigh. He reached for Cor’s hand and intertwined their fingers. Staying with Cor sounded wonderful if he was being honest but he couldn’t. Not like this. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, I could take care of it if the person tried something.”

“Nyx,” Cor drawled.

Nyx felt his heart stop. There was something about the way that Cor had said it that made him look up. He didn’t know how to interpret the expression on Cor’s face. It was slightly unnerving.

“Your apartment isn’t safe. The situation has already escalated, what happens when the person decides they’ve been hiding in the shadows long enough? I don’t want to see you get hurt. Stay with me,” Cor said.

Nyx ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. “And what if they don’t find the person? I can’t just stay with you forever, I need to-”

“Why not?”

It was a simple question but all words died in Nyx’s throat when he tried to respond. He looked at Cor. The man had sounded sincere, even with his question, as if there would be no problem if he stayed for a long time.

“Nyx, I love you.” Cor said.

Nyx blinked. His brain stopped responding. The world screeched to a halt. Nyx couldn’t think, couldn’t remember how to breathe. Had Cor really just said that?

“You-… you what?” Nyx asked, his voice a few octaves higher than normal as his brain tried to catch up. “You- you do?”

Cor’s brow knit together. His expression was a mix of concern and amusement as he looked at Nyx and squeezed his hand. “I do. I love you Nyx Ulric, and I want you to stay with me. At least until the person is caught.”

Nyx ducked his head as a faint blush crept up his neck. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest from the whirlwind of emotions that he was feeling. He brought Cor’s hand to his lips.

“I- I love you too,” he admitted.

Cor tugged Nyx closer and pressed a kiss on his temple. “Stay with me?”

Nyx closed his eyes and smiled. He couldn’t say no to Cor, not after he had broken out the L-word. Cor, the little shit that he was, had to have known that. “You can be awfully convincing when you want to… I’ll stay with you.”

Cor gave a satisfied smile as he sat back. “Good. We can grab your things later today after work.”

“Yeah, okay.” Nyx sighed and reluctantly let go of Cor’s hand when the man got ready to pull back into the traffic. This was the last thing he had expected to come out of the conversation but he couldn’t be happier with the way it had gone. He felt all warm inside. Happy.

That feeling just about vanished when he got to work ten minutes late and came face to face with a pissed off Drautos.

“How nice of you to grace us with your presence, Glaive Ulric,” Drautos said as Nyx got into the line with the other Glaives.

“Sorry, Sir. Won’t happen again, Sir,” Nyx replied. He could see Crowe and Libertus sending questioning looks his way but they would have to wait until later. If he was still alive after Drautos had chewed him out that was.

“No, it won’t,” Drautos agreed. “You’re all dismissed. Ulric, you’re with me.”

Nyx ignored the whispers and snickering around the room as he jogged to catch up to Drautos. “Sir? I was assigned to the East Gate today.”

“Not anymore,” Drautos told him as they walked down the hallway towards the training rooms. “Today we’re introducing the new recruits to hand-to-hand and magic combat. You get to be my assistant.”

Nyx grimaced. The position of Drautos’ assistant was a rare gift to those that were on his shit list. In other words, it was just another punishment and Nyx was going to get dropped into the mat until he was one giant bruise. “Right.”

Drautos glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “You have a problem with this, Ulric?”

“No, Sir, none at all,” Nyx was quick to say. He just couldn’t stop pissing off Drautos, could he? If only Crowe was here to smack some sense into him, he could really use that.

“Good,” Drautos said as they entered the training room. “This should be fun.”

Nyx was wise enough not to respond.

---

Nyx groaned as Crowe put her tray down on the table with an unnecessary amount of aggression. He had his arms folded on the smooth surface, head propped on top of them as he tried to nap. He was sore and exhausted. He had heard one of the recruits joke about his bruises having bruises after Drautos’ demonstrations and that’s exactly how it felt like.

“What’s up with him?” Crowe asked. as she sat down and poked him in the arm. Nyx considered glaring at her but he figured that would be a waste of energy and he needed every last drop of it to survive the rest of the day as Drautos’ plaything. Libertus could be his spokesperson for the time being.

“He’s been playing Drautos’ training dummy the whole morning,” Libertus said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Nyx grumbled something incoherent under his breath and buried his head deeper into his arms. His friends would take any chance they could to enjoy his misfortune.

“Ah, that explains it,” Crowe snorted. There was a clink of utensils as she dug into her lunch. “That’s what you get for being late.”

“Why were you late anyway?” Libertus asked before Nyx could say anything.

“Ooh, do you think he and the Marshal did the deed before coming in…?”

“Crowe!” Nyx exclaimed and reached out to shove her. “Why do you have to be like this?”

Crowe just cackled. “He lives!”

“Just let me sleep,” Nyx muttered and put his head down again.

They didn’t. Of course they didn’t.

“Why were you late then?” Crowe asked as she continued to wolf down her food.

Nyx sat back in his chair with a sigh. He snatched an apple from Crowe’s tray and nearly got stabbed with a fork for his troubles. Crowe’s eyes narrowed dangerously but Nyx was too tired to care and stuck out his tongue at her. If he was going to miss his nap for this, he deserved some compensation for it, even if that was in the form of an apple.

“I’m assuming Libertus couldn’t keep his mouth shut about what happened last night?”

Libertus made an indignant voice and Nyx gave him a smug smile.

“Of course he told me about your mystery Stalker,” Crowe scoffed. “I think most glaives know about it by now.”

“So did you tell Leonis?” Libertus asked but the quick change of subject didn’t go unnoticed by Nyx and he narrowed his eyes. Libertus just gave him an innocent look.

Nyx rolled his eyes and took a bite out of his apple. “I did.”

“Yeah? And what did the Marshal say to that?” Crowe asked, her lunch forgotten as she leaned towards Nyx.

“Asked me to stay with him.” Nyx shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. He didn’t need these two to know about the exact details of that conversation. They would never let him live it down if they found out he had completely frozen when Cor had first confessed. “Said he would have a few of his guys investigate.”

“They’re so disgustingly in love,” Crowe cackled and shook her head.

Nyx looked at Crowe incredulously. “What? Where did you draw that conclusion from? I just said he would have someone look into this.”

“Exactly. You don’t see the Marshal doing that just for anyone,” Crowe pointed out smugly. “Don’t try to deny it, you’re in love.”

“Shut up,” Nyx groaned, tempted to throw the apple at her. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that she would absolutely obliterate him if he were to try. He didn’t think he would even be fast enough to warp away.

“Hah! I knew it!”

“I hate you both.”

“Hey, what did I do?” Libertus exclaimed. To his credit, he had actually been quiet for most of the conversation while Crowe had been the bigger menace.

“You love us,” Crowe said with a highly unimpressed look as she finally turned her attention back onto her tray and stabbed a piece of broccoli with a fork. “So are you going to be staying with him then?”

Nyx shrugged. “I guess? I did tell him I would.”

Crowe grinned widely, her eyes shining in a way that Nyx knew meant nothing good. She looked at Libertus. “Fifty bucks says they’re officially living together by the end of the month.”

“You’re on.” Libertus didn’t even hesitate before responding.

“Hey!” Nyx threw his hands in the air as he looked between the two. “I’m right here!”

“You wanted to nap, didn’t you?” Crowe asked him pointedly and made a dismissive motion with her hand. “Go back to napping.”

Nyx’s eyes narrowed. “Rude.”

“You know you want to,” Crowe said before glancing at the clock on the wall. “You’ve got ten minutes. If I were you, I would use that time well.”

Nyx muttered something unflattering under his breath. Ten minutes was way too little time for a nap. He had no idea how he was supposed to survive the rest of the day. Groaning, Nyx pushed away from the table and stood up. “I need coffee. A lot of it.”

His two loving friends just laughed at his misery.

---

Somehow, Nyx was still alive when his shift ended. His body was all kinds of stiff and sore and a glance in the mirror showed bruises of varying shapes and sizes decorating his skin. A hot shower helped ease the worst of the tension that had built in his shoulders before he dried himself off and changed into the sweats he kept in his locker.

Libertus gave him an amused look from where he was rummaging through his own locker. “Rough day?”

“Shut up.” Nyx threw a sock at him, only to regret it immediately when he realized he would need to walk across the room to get it back. He leaned against the lockers and groaned. Libertus chuckled but he seemed to take pity on him as he bent down to grab the sock.

“Rumor has it that our dear Captain is going to head outside the Wall tomorrow to check on some stuff so you should be safe for a while,” he said as he brought the sock back to Nyx.

“Yay,” Nyx muttered in response as he took the sock from Libertus and put it on. He didn’t want to think how that could mean there would be a deployment waiting for them somewhere in the near future. Stupid war.

“So are you going to Leonis’ place tonight then?” Libertus asked. Nyx lifted his head and squinted at him. There was something in his voice that made him think Crowe was somehow behind this.

“Yeah, we’ll go pick up a few things from my place when he gets off,” Nyx told him and leaned forward to tie his boots. He should probably get a pair of sneakers to keep in his locker as well, just so he could put on something other than his sweaty boots after a long day of work. Not that he really had many pairs of shoes to begin with — especially since one pair had mysteriously disappeared a couple of weeks back alongside some other clothes.

Libertus nodded as he turned around to walk back to his locker. “Doesn’t he live in some upscale neighborhood? Security should be better than at your shithole at least.”

“He does not live in an upscale neighborhood,” Nyx rolled his eyes, “And you’re one to talk! Your place is just as much a shithole as mine.”

“At least my apartment isn’t the size of a broom closet,” Libertus shot back pointedly as he closed his locker. To his credit, his place was actually larger and didn’t look as much of a disaster as Nyx’s did. Libertus’ phone pinged with a message and Nyx watched him pull the device from his pocket with a frown. There was a heavy sigh and then the phone was back in his pocket. “It’s my uncle. He’s having some trouble at the bar, asked me to go over.”

Nyx nodded in understanding. “Go, call me if you need an extra hand.”

“I won’t,” Libertus replied with a knowing smirk. A moment later he was gone from the room.

Nyx shook his head with a smile as he reached for his own phone. He lifted it to his ear after choosing Cor’s number on the speed dial. Exactly three rings later the call was picked up.

“Cor Leonis speaking,” came a gruff response.

Nyx snorted and leaned forward to prop his elbows onto his knees. “Didn’t even bother to check the caller ID?”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh. Nyx’s smile faltered a bit. “Sorry, Nyx. I’ve been incredibly busy this whole afternoon and I don’t think I can pull away just yet. There was an incident earlier today and I need to clear a few things up before I can leave.”

“It’s fine,” Nyx reassured him. Cor sounded just as tired as he felt. “I can go and wait for you at my-”

Cor cut him off with a firm ‘no’ before he could even finish. “I don’t want you to go there by yourself. Is there someone you could stay with until I’m done here?”

Nyx sighed. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll just go in and grab a few things before coming right back to the Citadel. It’s safe.”

“It’s not safe,” Cor told him. “Nyx, we have no guarantee that the person won’t be there. Promise you won’t go there on your own?”

Nyx pressed his lips into a thin line, half tempted to whine. He didn’t though. Cor was just trying to look out for him. He could understand that. Taking a deep breath, Nyx closed his eyes. “I guess I could ask Crowe to come with me.”

“Good.” The relief was audible in Cor’s voice. “I’ll be done in an hour, tops. I’ll call you then?”

“Yeah,” Nyx said as a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He hesitated slightly before adding, “...I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nyx sat still for a few more minutes after the call ended, deep in thought. Cor was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. There had been times when he had thought he would never find anyone to spend his life with. Not many were willing to get together with someone who had a dangerous profession like he did. But then he had met Cor. Cor was everything he could have ever hoped for and more. Nyx was never going to let go of him.

When he finally got to his feet, Nyx shot Crowe a message, asking about her whereabouts as he left the locker room. He ended up finding her in the hallway outside of the mess hall before she could even respond.

“Crowe!” Nyx called out and waved at her.

“I thought you would’ve left with your dear boyfriend by now,” Crowe said with a chuckle as she walked up to meet him.

“Yeah, well, he’s working late,” Nyx told her with a sigh. “Which is why I came looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Nyx nodded. Then he saw a smile forming on her lips and started wondering if he should’ve waited for Cor after all. Crowe would without a doubt find some way to make fun of him over this. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “So, uh, I was thinking about going over to my place to grab some things but Cor doesn’t want me to go alone.”

“So you thought you would ask me?” Crowe asked with a dangerous twinkle to her eyes.

Nyx groaned. He knew this had been a bad idea. He should’ve just trusted his instincts. “Libertus had to go help out his uncle and you’re the only other person available.”

“Except I’m not available,” Crowe replied and motioned at the uniform she was still wearing. “Drautos has me pulling a double… and I would like to stay off his shit list if possible.”

“Oh,” was the only thing Nyx could think to say. Well, that made his plan a bit harder.

Crowe snorted. “I have to say, I’m surprised you, Mr. Independent, are actually listening to someone. You’re not scared of this stalker guy, are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” Nyx huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Cor just doesn’t want me to go alone and I’m trying to be considerate.”

“Right,” Crowe cackled and gave him a playful shove. “Maybe I need to get to know him better since he seems to be the only person you listen to.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Nyx asked her in an attempt to change the subject.

“I do,” Crowe said with a wide grin. She patted him on the arm. “Try not to do anything stupid, okay?”

“When do I ever?” Nyx smirked and waved goodbye to her as they went their separate ways.

Now Nyx had two options — he could either wait for Cor to get off work or he could save them both time by going to his place and picking up his stuff by himself. He had made a promise to Cor, though, and he would hate to break it. He didn’t want to lose Cor’s trust, not when they were still building it too.

On the other hand, they were both tired. Nyx had heard it in Cor’s voice. He could make the evening easier on them both and just get one thing off their list. Besides, it wasn’t like the stalker, as Crowe had kindly dubbed the person, had shown any signs of aggression towards him. He had never run into the person before, so what were the chances of that happening now? And he was a trained soldier, one of the best. He could take care of himself if there was trouble.

Nyx snuck out of the Citadel quickly, and it really did feel like he was sneaking off without permission. In a way, that was exactly what he was doing. Cor would understand though. Nyx hoped at least. He hailed a cab and twenty minutes later he was standing on the street outside of his apartment. A guilty feeling had crept up on him during the drive. Crowe would make a joke about how he was whipped but maybe she wouldn’t be that far off. Nyx didn’t want to betray Cor’s trust like this.

Cursing under his breath, Nyx took out his phone and called Cor. All he got was a busy signal. Great.

Nyx sighed and opened their text messages. A text message would be better than nothing, right? ‘Hey. I tried to call you but you were busy. I just got to my place. Alone. I’m sorry but I’ll be back in 30.’

With the message sent, Nyx pocketed his phone and headed inside. He would grab some clothes, maybe his guitar. His pictures too, he didn’t want to take the chance that the stalker would do something to them if they snuck in. In and out in ten minutes. Nyx’s lips pressed into a thin line as he pulled his keys from the armiger to unlock the door.

The apartment was dark as he entered, and he felt his way along the wall until his hands hit the light switch. As soon as the lights flickered on, his gaze was on the figure standing next to his desk. The figure, a man slightly smaller than Nyx, turned on his heels and looked at him with an unsettling smile. In his hand, was the picture of Selena and him. Nyx tensed.

“Close the door, would you?” the man asked, perfectly casual as if there was nothing wrong with the situation.

Nyx frowned, and against better judgement, closed the door behind him. There was something familiar about the man, something that made Nyx think he should know him from somewhere.

The man put the picture down — much to Nyx’s relief — and turned to lean against the desk.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Nyx said nothing at first as he thought. The man held himself in a manner that indicated a military background. He had an accent, somewhat similar to what Nyx had heard near the border of Galahd. The man had no other signs that would make him Galahdian but Nyx knew many people who chose not to braid their hair or wear beads and traditional clothing. Galahdian background would point towards the man being or having been a part of the Kingsglaive, as they weren’t as easily accepted in the Guard.

The man shifted, pushing away from the desk to stand straight. As he did so, Nyx caught a glimpse of a scar running across his neck, one that sparked recognition in him. Liero Malum. He had saved the man on a deployment a few months back when he had gotten cornered by a bunch of demons. It had been a really close call for the both of them, but especially for Liero who had nearly bled out after a particularly nasty hit.

Nyx swallowed hard. He had only seen the man a couple of times since, nearly forgotten about him too.

Liero clearly hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Is that- Is that my shirt?” Nyx asked, voice uncertain as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer as he noticed a familiar band t-shirt peeking under Liero’s coat. A sick feeling started forming in his stomach.

Liero smiled even wider and reached down to feel the hem of the t-shirt with one hand. “It’s so soft, you know, and smells so much like you. You hadn’t used it in a while so I thought I would borrow it.”

Nyx suppressed a shiver. Something about Liero was off. He put his hands out in a placating gesture as he spoke. “Listen, uh… Liero. That’s your name, right? You need to stop doing this. You can’t break into people’s houses and damage their property.”

“You don’t understand, Nyx! I’m just trying to protect you!” Liero shouted. His expression twisted into dark fury as he pulled a gun from his armiger in a flash of blue.

“Liero, put the gun down.” Nyx twitched at the outburst but forced himself to stand still as Liero pointed the gun at him. He had to defuse the situation, fast. If Liero pulled the trigger, the bullet could easily go through the wall to the neighboring apartments that housed families with young children.

“Move away from the door!” Liero snapped at him, waving the gun around. He was clearly unstable and in no state to be handling a firearm. Nyx clenched his jaw but did as told, careful to telegraph his moves to avoid any incidents. As he moved, Liero continued ranting, “Why don't you understand! They want to separate us! They want to take you from me!”

Nyx stopped when he was next to the foot of the bed and looked at Liero. The man was delusional, dangerously so.

A plan slowly forming in Nyx’s head. It would be risky but if he could just reach into his pocket, he could alert someone. He wouldn’t be able to do that with Liero keeping such a close eye on him, not if he didn’t want to get shot. Another option was to fight, try to disarm the man but it carried even more risks. Nyx didn’t want to take the chance some innocent person would get hurt if the gun went off.

Nyx sighed, his voice calm as he spoke, “Liero, you need to put that gun down. You don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.”

“Who says it’d be an accident?” Liero asked, his eyes narrowing as he walked closer. “Nyx, don’t you see it? You can’t go with the Marshal! He’s not the right person for you! This — us — is meant to be!”

A shiver went down Nyx’s spine. “Can we just take a moment and-”

“He’s not even from Galahd, he doesn’t understand!” Liero exclaimed. “Are you willing to abandon your heritage, your roots, for someone like him?”

“It isn’t like that. He’s-”

“Don’t tell me what it is and isn’t!” Liero surged forward and slammed Nyx against the wall. A startled gasp burst from Nyx’s lips. As delusional as Liero was, he was still strong and used his whole body weight to pin him there. Nyx grimaced, one of his arms was trapped between his back and the wall, essentially useless. He curled his fingers into a fist and struck out with his free hand but Liero caught it before he could make contact.

“I didn’t want it to come to this but they clearly have you fooled! I can’t let you ruin your- our life like this!” Liero told him and shook his head. “You brought this down on yourself but I will make everything right again.”

“You’re delusional.” Nyx hissed as summoned a flame into the hand Liero was holding.

Liero released Nyx with a pained cry. Nyx used the situation to his advantage and wrenched himself away from him. He managed two steps before something hard crashed down on the back of his head. A strangled noise slipped from his lips as he struck the ground and his head bounced off the unforgiving surface. Dazed, he couldn’t move fast enough before Liero was on him again, manhandling him onto his stomach.

“Stop squirming!” A heavy weight settled over his back as Liero straddled him. Nyx bucked under him, his fight or flight instincts kicking in but it did little to help. Hands caught his wrists and wrested them behind his back. He gasped a sharp, pained noise.

“Liero-”

“This is for your own good!” Liero insisted with a snarl. He snapped a pair of cuffs around Nyx’s wrists, tightening them to the point where they bit into his skin.

Nyx pressed his forehead against the floor, eyes closed. He cursed at himself for being so stupid, for not listening to Cor. His head hurt, as did his whole body. If he wasn’t already worn out from Drautos’ treatment, maybe he wouldn’t have gone down so easily. “Liero, think about what you’re doing.”

“I have. I’m doing this for you.”

“You’re not,” Nyx said, tugging at his wrists futilely. “Let me go. I don’t want any of this.”

“That’s because they’ve brainwashed you. You’ll thank me later.”

Nyx opened his mouth to retort but a knock on the door distracted him. His heart felt like it skipped a beat and he craned his neck to look at the door as a familiar voice called out, “Nyx, are you in here?”

Liero clamped a hand over Nyx’s mouth. “Stay quiet! He’ll be gone soon.”

“Cor!” Nyx shouted into the handgag. The sound was muffled, not even close to being loud enough to reach the door. Desperation filled him as Liero cursed and lifted his gun to point at the door. He tried to squirm, struggled to get free but it was all futile. He had to warn Cor.

Cor knocked again. “Nyx?”

Liero cocked the gun.

Nyx’s heart stopped. He shook his head to dislodge the hand, wrenching his head to the side as hard as he could and bit down on Liero’s hand. Liero cried out and yanked his hand away but Nyx paid little attention to him.

“Cor, watch out he’s-”

A gunshot rang out, and the bullet penetrated the door.

“No! Cor!” Nyx shouted. The smell of ozone filled the air as magic surged inside him, the crackle of lightning magic building. Liero swore. Fingers sunk into Nyx’s hair, gripping tightly before slamming his head against the floor harshly. A strangled cry ripped out of his throat and he slumped down and his vision greyed around the edges.

“I told you I’m not letting them separate us!” Liero growled as his hand pressed down between his shoulder blades to keep him down. “Stop fighting this!”

Nyx made a pained noise. His whole body felt sluggish, too slow to respond as he tried to struggle. He couldn’t give up. Cor could have been shot, he could be bleeding out on the other side of the door. Nyx had to help him. He called out again but Liero stuffed a cloth into his mouth.

“Be quiet!”

Right then the door busted open. Liero startled, his gunhand twitching dangerously but fortunately it didn’t go off. Nyx turned his head and his breath caught in his throat as he saw Cor standing in the doorway with a gun in his hand. He was alive. He hadn’t been shot.

“Step away from him!” Cor ordered, his voice dark in a way Nyx had never heard. He held the gun steady and his expression was one of pure determination, a steep contrast to the frenzied Liero.

“He’s not yours!” Liero shouted. “You’re not the right person for him!”

“I’m not going to repeat myself. Put your gun down and step away from him!”

Liero let out a snarl and Nyx felt him tense up above him. He tried to warn Cor but then Liero was off him in a crackle of magic. There was a grunt of pain as Liero crashed into Cor. Nyx yelled into the gag, struggling to turn onto his side and get up to help. He didn’t know how much he could do with his hands cuffed behind him but he couldn’t not do anything. This was all his fault, he didn’t want Cor to get hurt because of him and his stupidity.

Cor and Liero continued to grapple with each other, Cor’s moves sharp and those of a trained soldier. Liero was growing more desperate and frantic as the fight went on. Nyx managed to get onto his side but just that left him feeling dizzy. He saw Cor take a nasty punch to the face and flinched as he staggered back. He shouted at Liero to stop but it came out muffled.

Cor recovered fast, though, and caught Liero’s hand when he tried to throw another punch. He used the man’s own momentum to twist him around and put him into a chokehold. Liero let out an enraged yell and thrust his elbow into Cor’s ribs. Cor grunted. They staggered back a few steps but Cor didn’t let go.

Ten seconds later he lowered unconscious Liero to the floor and summoned a pair of zipties out of the armiger.

Nyx tried to say Cor’s name but the gag muffled it almost entirely. Cor still heard him, his gaze flicking over to him. His expression softened, even as his eyes shone with worry. “Hang on, Nyx, I’ll be right there, I just need to tie him up.”

Nyx nodded and dropped his head down as guilt and exhaustion set in. Cor could have been seriously injured or worse because of him — because he had been stupid and underestimated the situation. It all could have been avoided if he had just listened to Cor and his friends.

“Nyx?” Nyx startled, eyes flying open — when he had closed them? — to see Cor on one knee next to him. His gaze instantly flickered to the side where Liero was, bound and gagged in the corner. The man was still unconscious but most likely wouldn’t stay that way for long. Nyx twitched when he felt fingers on his face, tugging the gag out. He made a face and coughed weakly.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Cor reassured him, hand on his shoulder. “Just breathe. We need to get you out of those cuffs.”

Nyx looked at Cor, wanting to say so many things but somehow unable to get a word out. “Cor-... Wait, are you- you’re bleeding!”

There was a wet, dark patch on the sleeve of Cor’s jacket. Nyx chest tightened with worry. The gunshot. It hadn’t missed.

“It’s just a graze, I’ll be fine,” Cor told him with the slight shake of a head. He cupped the side of Nyx’s face with his hand, his thumb caressing his cheek. “And so are you. Do you think you can sit up so we can get those cuffs off?”

Nyx frowned but nodded after a moment. Cor carefully maneuvered around him, hands on both of Nyx’s shoulders as he helped him sit up against the bed. Nyx groaned. His head did not like the change in position.

“Just breathe,” Cor reminded him once again as he reached down to take the cuffs off. “He hit you in the head?”

Nyx sighed and slumped against the bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“We can talk about that later. Let’s focus on getting out of here first, okay?” Cor told him as he got one of Nyx’s hands free.

“Okay,” Nyx replied quietly. He brought his hand to his face but Cor gently made him put it down before he could touch anything. “Wha-”

“You have a wound on the side of your head, I don’t want you touching it,” Cor said, calm but stern to get the point across. He released Nyx’s other hand too before throwing the cuffs and the key into his armiger. “He hit you?”

Nyx nodded. He was feeling downright miserable and the last thing he wanted to do was lie to Cor again. “He hit me in the back of the head with something hard, the gun maybe. Slammed my head against the floor too.”

Cor’s expression turned grim, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay. Any nausea, light sensitivity, the usual concussion symptoms?”

“Just hurts,” Nyx shook his head. Instant regret. “...and a little dizzy.”

“Okay, we’re going to the hospital,” Cor decided. His voice left no room for objections, not that Nyx really had the energy to do so in the first place. This was his mess, he could listen to Cor for once.

“You’ll get checked out too?” he asked. Cor looked at him, eyes sharp and assessing as they roamed over Nyx’s features. A minute later he nodded. Nyx was surprised, having half expected him to just brush it off. It made him relax a bit, to know Cor would have his injuries looked at as well.

Then his gaze flickered over to Liero. The man was awake now but he seemed unnervingly calm as he stared at the two of them. Nyx forced himself to tear his eyes away and look back at Cor. “What about him?”

“My people will take care of him, don’t worry about it,” Cor said without any hesitation. He glanced in Liero’s direction as well and his expression darkened minutely before he turned back to Nyx. “Think you can stand?”

“Yeah,” Nyx said. There was no way he was going to let himself be carried out. He was going to listen to Cor but he still had his stubborn streak and that meant he would walk out of there on his own two feet one way or another.

Cor didn’t fight him on that. He just nodded and slung one of Nyx’s arms over his shoulders to help him up.

“Shiva…” Nyx groaned as the world tilted around him. He screwed his eyes shut and leaned on Cor a little more.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Cor promised him as he wrapped his other arm around Nyx’s middle for additional support. “Let’s just take it slow.”

Nyx swallowed hard and welcomed the added support without any complaints as they slowly made their way outside. Cor helped him into the passenger seat and gave him a clean handkerchief to use on the head wound. Cor had to stand outside for a moment or two longer as a new car pulled up and some people got out to talk with Cor. Based on their Crownsguard fatigues, Nyx assumed they were the people Cor had talked about.

A few minutes later Cor got into the car and they headed to the hospital.

---

It was nearly midnight by the time Cor and Nyx got out of the hospital, and closer to an hour later when they got to Cor’s place. Nyx had gotten stitches to his head, and had a concussion and some spectacular bruising to go with it. It wasn’t the worst concussion he had ever sustained, but coupled with the exhaustion and events of the day still left him feeling lightheaded and miserable.

“Here,” Cor said as he helped Nyx sit down onto the bed and out of his shoes. It made Nyx feel guilty, the way Cor was so caring and gentle with him even after the stunt he had just pulled hours ago, the way he had broken his trust.

“Thanks,” Nyx sighed as he lay down. Cor’s bed was so much softer than his own, he felt like he could just sink into it. Closing his eyes, he reluctantly shuffled out of his jacket and pushed it over the edge of the bed to the floor. Cor chuckled, most likely at him, before the bed dipped as the man joined him.

“Have the painkillers kicked in yet?” Cor asked. Nyx cracked his eyes open when Cor tugged him to his side with surprising ease and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Yeah.” Nyx nodded, all but melting into Cor’s arms. “This isn’t hurting your arm, is it?”

“It’s not, I can barely even feel it,” Cor reassured him. He had gotten stitches to his arm but it was nothing serious. A few days without any life-threatening situations and he would be as good as new. “You’re the one that got more banged up.”

Nyx exhaled slowly. His gaze flickered up to look at Cor. “How did you get there so fast? To my place?”

Cor’s hand snaked down to intertwine fingers with Nyx as he sighed. “Someone saw you leaving the Citadel on your own. It wasn’t hard to figure out what your plan was.”

“Sorry.”

Cor shook his head and leaned over Nyx to kiss the bandage on his forehead. “It’s in the past now. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re too good for me,” Nyx muttered. He pulled Cor down so he could kiss him on the lips. It was short and sweet and left him longing for more.

“You’re perfect for me,” Cor corrected. He tugged Nyx closer and made sure they were both covered by the duvet. “Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning.”

“I love you,” Nyx told him. He leaned his head against Cor’s shoulder and let out a pleased hum when the man ran his fingers through his hair gently.

“I love you too.”

#badthingshappenbingo #final fantasy xv #nyx ulric #cor leonis #libertus ostium #crowe altius #titus drautos #hurt nyx ulric #hurt cor leonis #stalking #gun violence #creepy stalker #hurt/comfort #cuddles #forehead kisses #love confessions #cornyx #my writing #whump

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adenei · 3 years

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Ch. 1 - How to Win a Witch in 10 Days

AO3 | FFN

Summary: “She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

Thursday, Pt. 1

Lily Evans sits down at her desk. It’s a typical Thursday morning at the office of Witch Weekly for the ‘How To’ columnist. Parchment is strewn about everywhere due to a hasty departure the night before, but with a flick of her wand, the papers arrange themselves into neat piles. Satisfied with the restored order, she turns to her magical typewriter and the most recent article that lies next to it: How To Make the Transition from Hogwarts Graduate to Adult.

She smiles at her hard work and hopes that this time Amelia will go for her pitch. A new batch of Hogwarts students graduated last week, and this was the type of information she would have loved to have when she finished her education three years ago. Being a Muggleborn made the transition into life as an independent witch more difficult. There aren’t many resources to help young adults find their way in magical society, and even though she met with Professor McGonagall numerous times about her future, the meetings weren’t as helpful as Lily preferred.

Perhaps this is why Lily lives in a small flat in muggle London and commutes to the office via taxi or apparition to Diagon Alley every day, depending on her mood. She tucks the article safely into a desk drawer before setting about her first task of the day: coming up with new ideas for future articles. Grabbing a blank piece of parchment, Lily begins brainstorming as more how to article ideas begin flitting through her mind.

Lily always knew she wanted to be a writer. The excitement she felt after securing a job at the highly respected go-to magazine for witches was only to be rivaled with receiving her Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven. At least, that’s how she used to feel. Now, she’s stuck in a perpetual wheel of pushing out article after article on how to incorporate the newest beauty, fashion, and health trends that flow into the magical world faster than a Cornish Pixie prison break.

Lily shakes her head as she writes down another idea: How To Secure an Interview for the Job of Your Dreams. She’s sick of all the superficial fluff she’s been writing for the past two years. It’s time for something more.

“Morning!” Alice chirps as she passes Lily’s cubicle.

“Good morning!” Lily gives Alice a warm smile in return.

Alice Fortescue is one of her closest colleagues and friends at the publishing company. That’s the one perk of this job, working with some amazing people.

“Amelia called a staff meeting in thirty minutes. Have you seen Marlene?”

Lily feels as if a bludger has knocked the wind out of her. She was so preoccupied this morning that she didn’t realize her best friend of ten years wasn’t at her desk.

“No, she hasn’t shown up yet,” Lily worries.

Marlene has recently been dumped—again—and she is never one to take a break-up lightly, even if said relationship only lasted a few weeks.

Alice sighs. “I’ll get the coffee, you floo to her place?”

Lily nods and grabs her bag, following Alice toward the exit. She digs a knut out of her purse and places it into the slot before grabbing a handful of floo powder. It’s common courtesy to donate money to replace the office’s stock if you use it for anything other than transportation to or from your residence.

She tosses the powder into the fireplace and steps into the green flames, announcing Marlene’s address in a clear, firm voice. Lily prepares herself for the sensation of the ground dropping out from below her as she free falls into the imaginary slide that transports her where she needs to go. The trip is short, and within seconds she is stepping out of the fireplace into Marlene’s flat.

“Marly? You here?” Lily calls.

Her best friend tiptoes out of the kitchen, still in her dressing gown. She’s carrying a cup of tea close to her face to hide her puffy eyes.

“Oh, Marly, I’m so sorry,” Lily reaches out to comfort her friend with a hug.

Lily takes the cup of tea from her hands and steers Marlene to her bedroom. “I know how hard break-ups can be, but we’ve got a staff meeting in twenty minutes, and I’m not going to let you lose your job over another lousy guy.”

Lily doesn’t notice Marlene crawling back into bed as she busies herself with sifting through outfits in her friend’s closet.

“But what we had was special, Lil! I really thought he was different! He could have been the one!”

“How long were you seeing him?” Lily asks, trying to recall any details of Marlene’s latest fling.

“Only a week,” she pouts.

Lily freezes midway through pulling a dress from the closet. She knows this is Marlene’s M.O. but Lily still can’t help but feel frustrated.

“Marly, really—”

“Don’t! I know what you’re thinking, but he was special, I’m telling you! We even had sex and everything. It was magical. I cried…”

“You what? Marly, tell me it was just a glisten of tears,” Lily wills her friend to say it isn’t as bad as she thinks.

“Oh no, I full-on bawled,” Marlene responds, not even attempting to lie, “told him I loved him, too.”

Lily wishes her best friend is kidding but they have been friends long enough for Lily to know that she’s not. With a silent sigh, Lily switches gears. She realizes she can’t take the sympathetic route anymore. No, Marlene needs tough love. She strolls over to the bed with the outfit in hand and plops down.

“Marlene, I know you’re a hopeless romantic looking for your Prince Charming, but in order to find him, you’re going to have to put yourself together and get back out there. You’re not going to find him wallowing in bed all day. Now come on, you’ve got fifteen minutes to get dressed so we can get to work and not piss off Amelia. Alice is out getting coffee right now.”

Lily yanks back the bedspread, forcing Marlene to get up, albeit begrudgingly.

There, one potential crisis averted for the day.

Ten minutes later, Lily floos back to the office after ensuring Marlene goes first. They run into Alice on their way back to their desks, and there’s just enough time for Alice to dole out the coffees before grabbing their notes and heading down the hall to their boss’s extravagant office.

Amelia Bones is the no-nonsense editor-in-chief of Witch Weekly, who is well respected by her staff. Her office is spacious yet welcoming and not at all like what one might expect. Where a conference table and chairs should be, Amelia has sofas and squashy chairs, similar to the Gryffindor common room. When the writers meet to go over stories for upcoming publications, they gather there. The three girls barely make it in time, taking their seats on the sofa nearest Ms. Bones. It’s the only empty spot left.

Amelia clears her throat. It’s all she needs to do to command the attention of her staff. “Alright, let’s get started everyone. We need to go over assignments for the July issue. Dorcas, what are you thinking this month?”

Dorcas, the office suck-up, bounces up and down in her seat as she lays out her laundry list of articles. “I’ve got an exposé on gilly water with an exclusive interview from a mermaid who says it will help keep you thin, but I haven’t come up with a title yet. And Traveling by Portkey: What to Pack and Not to Pack. Then, I’ve also got an interview set up with Madam Malkin, who details the latest robe trends. Oh! And I almost forgot about my outline of A Look Into a Day in the Life of The Hobgoblins!”

Lily needs to remember to keep her face passive as Dorcas prattles on. Does she do anything besides work? Who has time for four articles? She has to suppress the eye roll that’s threatening when she catches Alice’s glance. It’s evident her friend is sharing the same thoughts.

“Wonderful, wonderful. Lily, what’s our resident How To girl have in store for us this month?”

Here goes nothing…

“Well, actually, I’ve been working on this piece that I think will be a great spin on the How To article. It’s about helping recent Hogwarts graduates find their footing after they finish their seventh year.”

She gauges the room for reception and notices blank stares coming from the entire writing team. Fighting to keep her facial expression passive, Lily chances a glance at her boss, whose opinion is the one that matters most. There’s an uncomfortable churn in her stomach as a result.

Amelia clicks her tongue in a disapproving tone. “Lily, Lily, Lily. How many times do I have to tell you that most of our clientele are in their twenties and thirties? No one is going to want to read something like that! That’s what they have parents and families for! Besides, aren’t the Hogwarts professors supposed to help the young ones with their career choices? That’s not our wheelhouse.”

“But—”

Lily wants to bring up the Muggleborn perspective, but Amelia doesn’t give her the chance.

“Lily, your job is to write the How To column for Witch Weekly, not to help recent grads find their place in this world. I hired you to write fun, upbeat stories that will help witches in all aspects of their lives, and that is what I expect.” Lily’s shoulders droop in disappointment as Amelia wastes no time moving on to her next victim. “Marlene?”

“Oh, um, I—I’m still thinking—” Marlene stutters.

Lily notices Amelia’s hard stare and speaks up on her friend’s behalf.

“Amelia, Marlene’s going through a rough time right now. She got dumped.”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Marlene,” Amelia sympathizes as the rest of the group murmurs their respects to her unfortunate news.

Marlene grimaces as she explains, “Yes, I’m sorry, Amelia. I’ve been taking things a bit hard and haven’t really been eating. It’s just hard to move on when I thought he was—” she hiccups and Lily can tell she’s stifling a sob, “the one.”

“Hmm, yes, that is a predicament, isn’t it?” Amelia agrees before perking up. “Write about it.”

“What?”

“You can make an article out of that, can’t you?” Amelia asks the question as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“N-no! I can’t write about my personal life!” Marlene argues.

“If she won’t, I will,” Dorcas chimes in. She sounds too eager at the prospect of taking on a fifth article.

Amelia’s eyebrows crease as she ponders Dorcas’s proposition. Lily is horrified that Amelia is even considering this and decides to step in.

“Or I can!”

“What?” Marlene looks at her with wide eyes as Amelia trains her narrow gaze on Lily.

“How?” her boss wants to know.

“Well, I—I wouldn’t write about the break-up, per se, since that wouldn’t be a good How To article, but what if I turned it into something different?”

Lily is grasping at straws, trying to come up with something that would prevent her friend’s dirty laundry from being hung out to dry. She finds herself stuttering and stalling until suddenly, an idea pops in her head.

“What if I wrote the opposite of getting dumped? Well, it wouldn’t exactly be the opposite, but I’d find a guy and do all the classic things that women do that drive men away. Instead of trying to win the guy over, I’ll get him to dump me instead. Then readers will know what to do and what not to do.”

Lily watches her boss for any indication that she approves. Amelia’s pensive look quickly turns to a conspiring smile as she points her quill at Lily with a gleam in her eyes.

“That’s brilliant, Lily, absolutely brilliant! You think you can find a man, win him over and get him to dump you?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Lily doesn’t appreciate her boss’s insinuation that she’d be easy to break up with, but if it gets Amelia off Marlene’s back, she’ll take it.

“I can see it now. We’ll call it How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days.”

Lily is relieved, having succeeded in giving Marlene extra time to come up with a story, but the timeframe concerns her.

“Um, Amelia...why ten days?”

“Because we have to publish in eleven.”

She says this as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it’s only after Lily processes Amelia’s words that she realizes how impossible it all seems. She hasn’t dated anyone in a while. No one is even on her radar to date.

Looks like my Thursday is now going to be spent looking for an unsuspecting suitor.

Lily stifles a sigh as she attempts to focus on the rest of the meeting, but her mind has other plans. She fixates on whether or not she’ll be able to pull this off. It seems impossible, but she has no choice. She has to at least try.

As they exit the meeting, Lily, Alice, and Marlene are trailing behind Amelia, who is on her way to fetch her next appointment.

“If I’m going to pull this off, I need to find a guy tonight,” Lily expresses to her friends.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help!” Alice reassures her. “Let’s go to that swanky bar after work. The prospect of this article calls for a finer crowd.”

“Abbott's?” Lily shoots an incredulous look at her friend.

At first, she wants to protest, but Alice has a point. Lily needs to dupe a guy who’s not just out for a one-night stand, and there are no promises that she’ll be able to find that at the Leaky. No, she needs to glam up and go all-out to find a guy. One that shows promise, but not too much promise because she can’t let herself fall for him anyway.

Her thoughts are cut off as Alice and Marlene both stop, causing her to stumble into them. She looks up to see the source of their delay. Amelia has reached her destination, which happens to be directly in front of them as she greets two women. Lily isn’t quite sure why they didn’t swerve and continue around them.

“...Ah, Narcissa, Andromeda, it’s so nice to meet you! Come with me to my office so we can discuss the ads for this issue. I’m hoping you can help us spice up our pages through your clientele.” Amelia turns and sees Lily and her colleagues standing there. A friendly smile crosses her face as the three realize they’ve been caught eavesdropping and scurry to get back to their cubicles.

Lily returns the smile and looks to the two women to see the blonde eyeing her, a sense of intrigue dancing in her eyes. She wonders what that’s about.

“Aren’t you the How To girl?” the blonde asks.

Lily’s not sure what she’s expecting the woman to say, but it’s not that. It takes her a moment to respond.

“Um, yes. It’s Lily, Lily Evans. Nice to meet you.”

Lily doesn’t bother to extend a polite hand because of the blonde’s now scrutinizing gaze. She’s ready to turn and walk away before the awkward conversation can continue, but Amelia stops in her tracks.

“Yes! Lily is wonderful, isn’t she? She’s just about to start on her newest article: How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. Doesn’t it sound exciting?”

The darker haired woman raises an eyebrow. “It does. What does that entail?”

Lily opens her mouth to speak, but Amelia cuts her off again. “She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?”

“That does sound interesting,” the blonde responds.

“Yes, fascinating,” agrees the brunette in a bored tone.

Lily doesn’t appreciate their judgemental stares and chooses to dismiss herself. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you,” she lies as she continues on toward her office.

The day is young, but she no longer has time to waste. She needs to develop her plan before setting out to find a wizard later in the evening. This is turning out to be the most peculiar assignment yet, but if Lily can pull it off, then maybe Amelia will give her a chance on the other articles she has in her queue.

You’ve got this, Evans. Now get to work.

#jily fic #jily #lily evans #magical au #james potter #jily fanfiction #jily romcom #based on how to lose a guy in 10 days

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

In a Week

Part 3/4 - Snowballs and cigarettes

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: The snows finally stopped and its about time you got to work unburying your car. With your friends all prompting you to move on from your toxic ex you find yourself becoming more and more aware of the kind of person you’d want to be with. And how Frankie was ticking all those boxes.

Authors notes: Ugh okay I was over the max block text so the finale is split into two parts!! But you get them both tonight💕🌻💕 .

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, allusions to sex (nothing depicted), PTSD, smoking, drinking, swearing

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

Word count: 4.0k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 4

It had only been three days but you had found yourself in a routine that you hoped you never fell out of. Each morning he’d wake up first and you’d be predictably wrapped around him for another 2 hours or so. He found it hard to believe you were able to wake up before 10am, let alone that you were up at 5am most days but he’d love to be around to see it happen. For the first time, he saw something he’d long given up on. A future with someone else ingrained into his and his daughters life. Maybe it was stupid feeling this way after a few days, but he was old enough to know when he felt a real connection, and he’d never felt as good as he did when he was with you. He would make his feelings known to you, one way or another, he’d regret it forever if he let you slip through his fingers. He just had to find the right time to do it. It had been a long time since you’d woken up with someone in the same bed as you and even longer since the person was someone who made you feel safe and secure. There was something calming about knowing that even if you pushed your freezing cold feet between his calves in the middle of the night he wouldn’t get angry, or push you off he’d just grumble and pull you closer.

It sounded pathetic but it was the nicest a guy had been to you in years. You knew how stupid it was to catch feelings this fast, and it definitely wasn’t like you to feel such strong emotions. Since the funeral you had actively decided to forego them although. This benefited your work, helped you in your field, made you a better doctor, but keeping all your emotions bottled up took its toll. Primarily on your love life. You’d had your fair share of flings with other residents, nurses, friends of friends, but between classes and shift work there wasn’t time. Plus what was the point when you had no idea where you’d be moved to. At least that’s what you told yourself. Then Jonathan came along and you’d let him in, let him know you and you fell for him in the process. Then he’d started dating someone else, told you he didn't realize you were exclusive, and it shattered you completely. You’d pieced yourself back together and once you were better, once you were finally over him, he’d cycle back round to you, determined to keep you on retainer. The whole ordeal had left you tired. You’d never had a real relationship and you were already done with them. You never understood how people would want to live with someone for the rest of their lives until now. Catching feelings had always happened in periphery to your life making it easy to push by a crush by simply avoiding them, but you couldn’t avoid Frankie. Each day you spent trapped inside with him he’d continued to grow on you, cementing your feelings for him tenfold. You yawn and stretch your leg out over Frankies torso propping yourself up onto your elbow so you can reach over him and grab the glass of water on the nightstand. He exhales as if your movement across him is an inconvenience to his meticulous strategy for winning whatever game he was playing on his phone. You take a sip and put the cup back down, rolling off the bed and opening the curtains.

“Hey!” you shout, causing Frankies head to shoot over to you, “It stopped snowing!” you exclaim, gazing out over the parking lot where the snow had fallen. The powder undulating overtop the cars buried beneath it. You stretch your arms up catching an unsavoury whiff coming from your armpits causing you to pull a face. Turning around just in time to see Frankie laughing from the bathroom door.

“Seriously man? Do you have to beat me to everything!” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Gotta be faster sweetheart.” he says, closing the door behind him. From anyone else the term would have driven you into a rage induced frenzy, but it was endearing not condescending coming from him. You take the time to call Stella, you’d been texting with her since you got stuck but you felt it was time to officially announce your arrival as permanently cancelled.

“Hey girl”

“Hey babe what's going on? You calling with good or bad news?” she asks, a constant bustle evident in the background.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, but only bad news on my end. I am so fucking sorry, I should have just flown down like you said” you offer, leaning back against the window allowing the chill of the outside to cool you off.

“Well this is why you should always listen to me, but i’ll forgive you just this once.” she laughs.

“God I can’t believe the one wedding I actually care about I’m going to miss!” you exasperated, shifting away from the window and flopping down onto the bed.

“Well I definitely won’t miss you, especially considering you’ve already sent a gift.” she teases.

“How, very dare you” you punctuate.

“Yup long con paid off, 10 years I pretended to like you just to get you to buy me a toaster from ebay” Stella laughs.

“You could have just stolen mine after the first year, then you could have had me gone!” you state.

“Ugh a huge mistake!!” she overemphasizes dramatically, causing you both to burst out laughing.

“So….” you say after your giggles subside leaving a gentle ache in your ribs that always occurred when you talked to Stella.

“What?” she asks, sniffling.

“ Did John make it out there?” you ask, in a painfully transparent way.

“Why?” she spits, her tone suddenly lethal. She hated the guy, she was the one who was always left dealing with you after he’d used you up, helping to piece you back together, just in time for him to get a hold on you again.

“He asked about me?” you query, once again failing to convey your intentions.

“I’m not indulging this anymore, it's bad for you. He’s bad for you, there's only so many times I can watch him emotionally manipulate you” she rants.

“Ya, but it's easy and it's so good with him.” you emphasize.

“It’s not easy, take it from someone in an easy relationship, it's not supposed to hurt that much.” she chides, determined to have you see the light.

“But..”

“Nope, I'm drawing the line for you, find someone else. You’re a gorgeous single doctor,

“Almost doctor” you interrupt, but the statement is ignored.

“Aren’t you currently shacked up with one of my stupid brothers friends?”

“Yes? And?” you say, your heart suddenly beating faster as your head turns to see Frankies hat on the nightstand.

“Frankie right? Statue like, soft curls, kind, deep brown eyes? And don’t pretend like you didn’t notice I know you like the back of my hand!”

“So what if I have, doesn't mean..” you whisper, not wanting him to hear you.

“Nope, don’t sell yourself short, I say get cozy with him and finally move on from dickhead McGee, even if it's just for a night, cleanse the palette. Besides, you know he’ll be doing whoever looks his way at my wedding.” you hear a muffled shout “alright I have to go, something about the bridesmaids fighting.”

“Your sisters? Fighting? Who could have seen that coming” you deadpan.

“I know, god I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was as well i'll call tomorrow in case you get cold feet, I have a five point plan”

“I won't” she chimes.

“ I know because you love her”

“And I also love you” she says

“And I love you” you respond before hanging up. Not even a minute after hanging up you get a call from Santiago

“Hey, I just wanted to verbally apologize for trapping you with ‘Fish, though he's definitely one of the better ones to get stuck with.” he says.

“Well that’s good to know” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“He hasn’t tried anything has he? If he has I'll kill him, and get away with it, you'll have to help me with the body but...” Santiago starts.

“Santi, it's fine he's cool, really sweet, actually,” you offer heat rushing to your face for some unknown reason.

“Good. He touches you ill..” he warns.

“You’ll kill him ya I got it!” you snap, you understood why Santiago felt like he had to play big brother for you but sometimes he was a touch overbearing. “Is John there?” you try and ask casually, failing to head Stellas advice.

“Don’t...” Santi starts, you can practically hear his jaw clench over the phone “you know if I see him tonight i'm gonna knock him out for how he treats you”

“It wasn’t that bad.” you whisper.

“It was, still is, I heard him bragging about how if worse comes to worse he always has his plan D,” he offers, not to hurt you but to try and free you from the cycle.

“That dick. You know what Stellas right, fuck him!” you exclaim with a newfound determination to rid him from your life.

“Oh my god, are you finally seeing the light?” Santi asks “Praise the lord!” He shouts up into the sky.

“Ya I guess so” you say staring at Frankie as he dries his hair with the towel. “I gotta go, see you soon.”

“Not soon enough” he laughs as you hang up.

“Whose that?” Frankie asks, still curious about who you’d been hoping to see at the wedding and what they’d done to earn your affection.

“Pope!” you say with a smile, pushing your back off the bed and sitting up.

“Threatening to kill me?” Frankie predicts.

“Ya we have a plan” you murmur.

“We?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye and his mouth upturned at the sides.

“Well he'll kill you but, I cant have him go to jail so i'll have to hide your body.” you explain

“Good glad that got sorted” he says, his smile now in full effect.

“I'll go grab some breakfast” you say.

“No ill get it, you’re always getting it, plus gives you time to shower, I can smell you from here.” He prods, grabbing the key.

“Rude!” you yell out after him.

He's back when you exit the shower

“Oh thank you, you say grabbing the plate form him”

“Just what the doctor ordered, hey?” he asks, smiling stupidly big.

“Ouuuf that that was bad truly apologize to me” He laughs at how serious your face gets “You're laughing? I had to listen to that joke and you're laughing?” you say through a mouthful of eggs. “Here's something that'll wipe that stupid smile off your face, snow stops which means we have to clear off my car.”

“Using the royal we are we?” he asks

“Think of it as repayment for the pun,” you say waving your fork in his face

“How will we be clearing it off?” he asks, leaning over the counter.

“Brush” you say, as if it's obvious

“Where's the brush?” he asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands and smiling sweetly at you, waiting for an answer.

“In the….oh” you say, face dropping when you realize that the brush was in the car currently buried under a snow pile.

“Not so smart now” he laughs pushing back off the counter taking your empty plate with him, washing it up for you.

“Well I guess we just have to get to the door with our hands then” you say smiling.

“Once again, about this we,” he says, drying his hands on the dish towel, turning to see a dramatic pout plastered across your face.

“Fine, I'll only help because I think you may disappear in the snow if you go in alone” he responds, the truth was, he couldn't deny you.

You both get dressed into the most winter proof clothes you had, neither of you having packed for a snowy expedition. As you exit the room you see him grab a pack of cigarettes he’d been hiding, not wanting you to see his worst traits.

“Those will kill you, you know,” you say, causing him to roll his eyes dramatically.

“Okay mom” he laughs grabbing the lighter despite your disapproving glare,

“You have a daughter to think about” you say, feeling like you'd be letting your profession down by giving up so easily.

“It's why I smoke, the safest way to calm the nerves while staying clean” he murmurs with a look on his face that is enough to get you to drop it for now. You weren't about to pry into his struggle with addiction and you certainly weren’t one to judge, you’d faced similar issues after your brothers passing.

“I used to smoke,” you confess as the elevator doors close in front of you both.

“Seriously?” he remarks, not able to believe it.

“Pack a week for about a year” you say, slowly nodding your head as the two of you walk through the foyer towards the parking lot.

“You quit?” He asks, impressed.

“Ya I don’t think it was long enough to form a habit. When did you start?” you offer as you move your legs through the snow, it was dense your legs would be sore tomorrow.

“What? Are you gonna assess the state of my lungs?” Frankie laughs, moving easily through the snow you were struggling so hard against.

“Yes, but i'll only tell you the results if you want to know”

“Few years back, after...” he stops himself before confessing the worst thing that ever happened in his life.

“The mission” you finish for him, remembering how Pope had picked up similar habits once he finally returned home. “You were there with Santi?” you question

“He told you about it?” he asks, sterner than you’d seen him before, he was afraid that you knew what a monster he was. You shake your head, no and he thanks the gods. “You think i'm going to?” He queries lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag, making sure not to blow it out anywhere near you.

“I don’t know, maybe. It’s the one thing he wont tell me about, figured it would be easier for you if you were talking to a stranger about it.”

“Not much of a stranger now” he laughs, but there was something behind his eyes, a similar sadness that you saw with Santi when he talked about it. Your thoughts are interrupted when something cold hits you in the face, your mouth drops open, your forehead scrunches in disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!” he looks up panicked

“I guess it's what I get for asking so many questions” you say, hand still over your face playing into it as you formulate your attack.

“No, oh my god! No! It wasn't because of that, let me see” he says, you let your hands drop and you smile wickedly up at him. Before he has time to react, you rub a handful of snow into his face.

“Oh... you're gonna pay for that.” he draws out, wiping the snow from his face.

After 15 minutes of all out war, and a brief truce that was to be officially signed once back inside you managed to get to the door handle and lean into the back seat grabbing out the brush. You offer it to Frankie, but he's already started clearing off the rest of the car with his arms.

“Hey can you grab my spare charger out of the compartment there?” you say cleaning off the trunk, the front doors now accessible.

“Ya, holy shit is this a knife?” he asks, pulling out a knife.

“Maybe.” You say staring into his eyes as his mouth hangs open in amusement. “For safety, I didn't know who I'd be driving up with! You coulda been a murderer” you explain palms up.

“And you were planning on what? shanking me?” he laughs a huge smile on his face, weirdly endeared by your thought process.

“Only if I had to.” You say chuckling between shivers, the cold now seeping through your makeshift snowsuit hitting against the sweat you’d worked up.

“You want it?” He offers.

“No i'm good, thanks”

“Because you don’t think I'm a murderer or because you have another one hidden in the room already?” he laughs, but he stops when you tilt your head slightly and raise your eyebrows, averting your eyes.

“Wait, do I need this knife?” he calls as you trudge back through the snow.

You both change into less sweaty attire and you settle into the couch turning on to watch the latest forensic files rerun. You shiver as you sit down having caught a chill. Noticing you shaking, Frankie goes to the wardrobe and grabs down a spare blanket throwing one at you so it lands directly over your head. He laughs when he sees you slowly turn towards him beneath the blanket, like someone in a makeshift ghost costume.

“Excuse me!” you laugh

“Hey you should be thanking me, can't have you freezing to death.” he says, “Are you asleep under there?” he asks, when you don't respond

“I'm not a cat! I don't fall asleep when someone throws a blanket over me!” He's not paying attention to what he's doing and the bottle in his hand shatters against the counter, a shard slicing his hand open.

“Fucking shit.” you him sigh.

“Are you okay?” You ask maneuvering out from under your blankets to see Frankie in the kitchen, glass on the floor and blood coming down his arm.

“Wow you're out of my sight for 2 seconds and you maim yourself” you say laughing, stopping when you see the panicked look in his eye, the event evidently triggering something deep in his psyche. You quickly stand up and he goes to move towards you.

“No don't move Frankie, stay where you are.” you reassure softly, watching as his eyes lay into your own, his breathing calmer now “You're in socks, can't have you cutting your dancing feet” you say.

“You’ve heard of my dancing feet,” he says, grounding himself again.

“Only bad things” you say, throwing him a pair of shoes that he carefully puts on before moving toward the closet where the broom is “No come here, let me see your hand. The mess can wait, you're more important,” you stress leading him over to the couch and sitting him down.

“Wow, first time I'll be able to afford professional health care “ he jokes as you take his hands in your own.

“Ow” he says when you press down onto the hand to assess the damage.

“It's fine, not deep enough for stitches, should heal up on its own. I still want to clean it though, to stop any infection.” You return with a small bottle of over priced vodka opening it and dabbing some onto a cotton pad. He doesn't flinch when the alcohol cleans the wound and he watches as you bandage his hand up.

“You carry a med pack with you on every trip?” he queries, but you don’t hear him you’re too focused on wrapping his hand.

“There! good as new,” you say standing up and cleaning up the glass on the floor. “Hey did you bring a swimsuit?” you ask, dumping the glass into some newspaper that was left in the room.

“Why?” He asks.

“Answer the question Frankie” you say, folding the paper around the shards before placing it into the trash.

“Yes, you wanna go hang out at the pool with the fifty families stuck here?”

“Ya. You don't? Seriously this room is wildly expensive and has a huge jacuzzi tub, I'm getting in your welcome to join, but bathing suits are mandatory.” you offer.

“I was gonna get in fully clothed,” he offers, not missing a beat.

“Perfect even better”

As per usual he beats you to the punch and settles into the tub that was more akin to a hot tub than a bath, he wanted to get in first partially to annoy you and partially so his body wouldn’t be on full display, he wasn't as jacked as he once was and he’d become insecure about certain areas that he’d let go once his kid came along. He watches as you walk in and his eyes can't help but follow your figure around the room, a beautiful person behind a beautiful personality, he thanks the universe for placing him into your orbit.

“That why they call you catfish?” you ask drawing him from his daydream back into an equally pleasing reality.

“What?” he responds, blushing at having been called out on his gawking.

“Cause your mouth hangs open like a fish out of water when you're zoned out” you smirk, lowering yourself down into the tub.

“Rude” he says splashing after you settle in.

“Alright, Frankie, what is it?” you ask, causing his face to look up to you “what's your deal, apart from smoking? You gotta have flaws”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he charms

“Sinister” you laugh, but he doesn't, you reach your foot up tapping his cheek with it,

“Disgusting,” he chuckles, grabbing it and rubbing the arch before pushing it back into the water.

“God, I miss the ocean” you confess, “ I hate the city sometimes.”

“You’re not planning on staying in Chicago after you're done?”

“Nope, gonna get myself out to the coast, or at least somewhere without winters.” you say stretching your arms out across the tub. “How about you, are you planning on staying?”

“ Probably, no reason to leave, plus it's close to my mom so she can take care of Arianna when I'm at work, though I wouldn't be opposed to moving if the opportunity presented itself she's young enough that it wouldn’t be too hard.” he says, wanting you to know that if you asked, hed follow you anywhere.

“Arianna, beautiful name. Did you pick it?” you ask looking up when a few minutes of silence pass. As you do you notice that the somber look from early had returned. “You okay?” you ask.

“I don't deserve her, I don’t deserve something so good.” he states, suddenly realizing he didn’t deserve someone like you either. You wouldn’t be sitting in the tub with him if you knew what he’d done.

“Frankie that's not true” you reassure

“You don't know the shit I've done. I'm not... I'm not a good person,” he says, still not looking over to you.

“Well, I…” you begin to refute.

“Seriously, I've done bad things… awful things'' he clears his throat, afraid to look at you, afraid you’d be terrified by him.

“People make bad mistakes, but that doesn't make them irredeemable, not if they are willing to change. You understand what you did was bad, that says something.” you reassure, knowing the guilt was likely left over from the military.

“Well, wise words coming from someone who's never done anything bad”

“You don't know me that well Frankie, I’ve done my fair share of stupid things, crappy things to numb the pain. It's what we do to make up for those shitty actions that count. At every turn, you’ve shown me that you're not an evil person. Everything I’ve seen is good, and funny and incredibly kind.” you finish and you continue to nudge him with your foot until he finally cracks a smile.

“Well now you're smiling again, my missions complete and it's time for bed” you say stepping out of the tub and drying off, unaware that you’d just made Frankie fall even harder for you. His eyes helplessly following you as you leave the bathroom.

“Since I'm an outpatient, does that mean I get the good side of the bed?” he calls out after you. You roll your eyes but let him have it, you preferred the sleeping situation the way it was.

#In a week #part 3 #frankie x y/n #frankie x reader #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal characters

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lamesiscanon · 3 years

Text

Mistletoe

Day 5 of the holiday prompt list posted by @remus-john-lupin I also did not read this again for mistakes so pardon those... anyways,

The plan was christened as Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him. Or as James called it, Desperation at its Finest. It came together on a rather ordinary Wednesday evening in the dorm, where Sirius was lazily flicking sparks at James’ feet as the other boy slept. The appeal came from the quiet giggles and words like “Lily, stop that tickles” James would mumble sleepily, delighting Sirius to no end. This was prime blackmail material that Sirius would most definitely use as an advantage in the next coming weeks.

Sirius had to bite his sleeve to keep his laughter from waking him up when James started puckering his lips against his pillow. Though, it turned out to be all for naught when Peter threw the door open with a bang.

“Whazzat?” James sat up on his bed with his wand held out, though he held onto the wrong end. Sirius quickly hid his own under his duvet and turned his attention towards Peter, who was out of breath and full of sweat.

“SIRIUS!” Peter shouted in a way of greeting, dumping his bag on the floor and slamming the door shut once again.

“PETE!” Sirius met his words with equal enthusiasm, though he had no idea what this was about.

“JAMES!” James joined in, always ready to match his friends energy. Peter ignored him.

“Sirius, I just overheard a conversation in the library and Emmeline Vance is planning on asking Remus to the Christmas dance.” Peter let out in one breath as he searched through his trunk, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill.

“What?” Sirius and James both yelled in a panic, to which Peter explained everything he had overheard in the Library. Emmi’s Hufflepuff roommates had apparently talked her into asking Remus to the dance after Emmi herself complained about not knowing who to go with. Sona Pearce had suggested Remus because he was tall, kind, smart, and most importantly, mysterious as hell. The rest of the Hufflepuff girls had giggled at that, talking excitedly about how quiet and secretive Remus was. It was decided then, and declared by Emmeline that she would ask Remus Lupin to the Christmas dance. Peter had immediately run out of the library all the way to Gryffindor tower.

And so that’s how Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him was born. Peter, as the scribe, James as the voice of reason, and Sirius as the anxiety ridden idiot in love. Together, they came up with the perfect plan to squash all of Emmeline Vance’s hopes and dreams. (Though, Sirius didn’t think she’d be too sad in the end, since she apparently didn’t have an actual crush on Remus.)

Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him (Desperation at its Finest) ((Shut the fuck up, James))

Step 1: Make sure Remus avoids running into Emmi Vance at all times.

Step 2: Subtly show Remus that I, Sirius Black, am perfect boyfriend material.

Step 3: Ask Remus to the Christmas dance.

Step 4: Get Remus under the charmed mistletoe and kiss him until he forgets his name. (Stick your tongue down his throat) (Gettin’ Jiggy with it) (Peter, for the love of God, please never say that again.)

Step 5: Ask Remus on a date, become boyfriends, fall in love, get married, live happily ever after.

The first steps were surprisingly easy. Sirius managed to execute them without any complications, which was rare for a Marauder’s plan. The map came in handy when the first step was still in motion. All it took was a quick glance at the map after each class to make sure that they wouldn’t run into Emmeline on their way to the next class. A couple of times it was unavoidable, but Sirius would usually engage Remus in a conversation so he wouldn’t notice Emmeline trying to get his attention. And for the one time that Emmeline actually tried to come up to Remus and talk to him, Peter set off a well-timed dung bomb that set everyone running for fresh, clean air. He’d gotten detention for that, but Sirius was grateful enough to finish his potions homework for him for the next week.

Step two was just as easy since Sirius usually complimented Remus on a daily basis and would help him with Transfiguration and Runes (the only classes Remus didn’t have the highest marks). He stepped up the game just a little by giving Remus his favorite sweets from a secret Hogsmeade run and organized his part of the dorm room before and after the full. Remus hadn’t acted like it was out of the ordinary, but he did thank Sirius and even gave him one of those secret smiles the two usually shared, so Sirius counted it as a very successful win.

Sirius was almost sure he failed the whole thing when it came to the third step, though. Actually asking Remus out brought up nerves that he usually only felt right before quidditch games. It ended up being a spur of the moment thing when the two were alone in the dorm, when Remus was getting dressed and Sirius was pretending not to watch. Sirius blurted the question before he could prepare himself for it. He thought the plan was completely fucked when Remus had only stared at him for a moment, confusion and concern evident all over his face. Sirius almost took it back, was about to play it off as a joke when Remus smiled and said “Sure, Pads. That sounds like a lot of fun.”

In the days leading up the the Christmas dance, Sirius learned that the fourth step wasn’t going to be as easy. Regular mistletoe wasn’t proving to be enough, so Sirius had to resort himself to charmed mistletoe, which backfired horribly when Peter had accidentally gotten stuck with him. Much to both of their disappointment, the charmed magic on the stupid plant didn’t settle for any cheek kisses.

The one who the charmed mistletoe was actually meant for had jumped out of the way at the last second, but Peter hadn’t been so lucky. It frustrated Sirius, that Remus seemed to have memorized the layout of all mistletoe decorations around the castle and avoided it well. So far Sirius had been resigned to kissing Both Prewett twins (separate occasions, thank Merlin), Dorcas Meadowes, Sona Pearce, Isaac Ure, and poor Peter all because Remus was apparently afraid of mistletoe.

The actual day of the Christmas dance made Sirius feel excited, nervous, and frustrated in one go, but his hopes were up that tonight would be the night he could get Remus alone and under the damned magical plant.

Remus was getting ready in the boy’s dorm while Sirius was dragged up to Lily’s because apparently it was “more romantic” to wait and see each other until they met up at the common room entrance. At least Sirius got the perk of having Marlene do his eyeliner.

As reluctant as he was to admit it, Lily was actually right about the extra romantic thrill of seeing Remus after walking out of the Fat Lady’s portrait. He cleaned up well, with a set of dark maroon robes that went well with his dirty blonde curls and honey eyes. Merry fucking hippogriffs, Sirius could barely manage from swooning straight to the ground when those eyes met his. And that stupid, beautiful smile that Remus gave him when those honey eyes took in every inch of Sirius. He was completely fucked.

Sirius was fucked when Remus laughed as the teachers took the first dance, he was fucked when Remus ate a sugar quill from the refreshments table, and he was fucked when a hand grabbed his to pull him out on the dance floor for their own dance. The night was one of the best of Sirius’ life, yet he still hadn’t managed to get Remus under the mistletoe. He got distracted by dancing with Remus once the music turned into more upbeat stuff, and then they met up with James, Peter, and their dates and sat around for hours laughing and talking about other couples they could see on the dance floor.

James nudged Sirius at one point, motioning to where Emmeline was dancing with Benjy Fenwick. Apparently Emmi Vance had a type, which was tall and smart bookish boys.

Sirius got so caught up in joking with Remus and Lily that he didn’t hear the announcement for the last song. Lily had been dragged away by her date, leaving Remus and Sirius alone at their table near the refreshments.

“Come on, let’s finish the Christmas dance with a bang.” Remus said, holding out his hand for Sirius to take. Sirius was so excited to dance with Remus that he didn’t even process the fact that this was the end of the night and he still hasn’t kissed Remus.

In the middle of their jumping around and screaming, Remus pulled out his wand and made an unrecognizable motion to Sirius, but before he could ask, Remus put his wand away and continued to dance. The crowd cried for an encore when the song ended, nobody wanted to leave just yet. The band relented, though they announced that this was going to be a slow dance. Sirius shyly took Remus’ offered hand and led them both across the floor in twirls and slow sways.

The night was actually perfect. Even in Sirius didn’t get to kiss Remus, he always had tomorrow, or the next day, or even the next. He just wanted to be in this moment with Remus as they swayed and laughed, completely oblivious to everyone else around them.

“So I found something interesting today.” Remus spoke, jolting Sirius from his thoughts.

“Oh yeah?” Sirius asked, curious as to what Remus found and thought interesting enough to bring up during their dance.

Remus smiled, reaching into the pocket of his maroon dress robes and pulled out a small piece of parchment that was torn at the edges. It sort of looked familiar...

“Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him.” Remus read aloud. “I thought it sounded quite interesting, so I picked it up.”

“Moony, no! You weren’t supposed to see that!” Sirius let of Remus’ waist to grab the parchment out of his hands, but Remus was quick at dodging the attempts.

“Oh Merlin...” Sirius groaned, completely embarrassed. He wished that whatever deity was above would just smite him right then and there.

“Well, it has my name on it so I didn’t have any qualms about reading it...” Remus cleared his throat and shook out the parchment to prepare reading the rest.

“Step one, make sure Remus avoids running into Emmi Vance at all times. This one was interesting, since I have no idea what Emmeline has to do with any of this.”

“She was going to ask you to the dance...” Sirius muttered. He was pretty sure this is the reddest his face has ever been, and there was no way to stop this torture.

“Ah, I see. Step two,” Remus continued, “Subtly show that I, Sirius Black, and perfect boyfriend material.”

All Sirius could do was smack his hand to his face and keep wishing that he could somehow disappear from this whole mess.

“Step three, ask Remus to the Christmas dance.” Remus read, sounding more amused as the moment dragged on. “Now, since we’re both here at said dance, I can only assume you deemed the first three steps successful, right?”

Sirius didn’t answer, but Remus apparently wasn’t actually looking for one, he just continued reading.

“Step four, get Remus under the charmed mistletoe and kiss him until he forgets his name.”

They had stopped dancing at this point. Sirius was pretty sure it was because of him being to embarrassed to do anything but cover his face and listen as Remus read his own plan aloud to him. He felt rooted to the spot, no matter how much he wanted to run away and hide until graduation. Maybe the room of requirement would be a good place to live until then...

“I laughed and James’ and Peter’s inputs here. And suddenly, all your mistletoe mishaps made sense. It was hard to watch actually, nearly crushed all my hopes, but when I found this it all started to make sense.” Remus waved the parchment again and Sirius heard it flap.

“Remus, please stop. I’m so sorry, okay? I promise I can just avoid you if you want that, but- wait? Did you say I crushed your hopes?” Sirius finally took his hand off his face, looking at Remus for the first time since he started reading. He expected to find disgust, but instead he saw Remus smiling that same, sweet, secret smile that they shared between the two of them.

“Well, duh.” Remus shrugged, still holding that damned piece of parchment. “I don’t think anyone would like to watch the guy they fancy kiss six other people.”

Sirius could only gape while his brain floundered for words to say.

“You- you fancy me?” It came out as a whisper.

“Of course I do, you daft mutt. Only for the past two years or so. How could I not?” Remus smiled again, and Sirius realized that the way he was looking at him was the same way Sirius would look at Remus when he thought the other boy wasn’t looking. Oh. This revelation brought back all of Sirius’ confidence, it seemed. He put his hand back on Remus’ waist to pull him just a little bit closer and plastered a smirk on his face.

“Well then, what am I going to do about step four? It’s been bloody hard to check that one off, you know.”

Remus laughed, and then pointed at the ceiling above him, revealing a single spot of charmed mistletoe. Well, that explains why Sirius felt so rooted to the ground earlier, then. And it explained Remus’ random wand movement earlier.

Sirius’ thoughts were cut off again, but he was more pleased by the cause this time. The pair of softest lips he’d ever felt were pushed against his own, and he hummed, perfectly content.

Remus was kissing him, Remus was kissing him!

The song ended, and people around them applauded the band for their night of well-played music but Sirius and Remus didn’t even notice. Their own thought were filled with only each other. It was the best night of Sirius’ life.

“Well,” Remus broke away, breathless from their kiss but still smiling, “You’ve already asked me out, and you got your kiss, so what’s next?”

Sirius laughed and pretended to think about it for a moment, head tilting side to side. Remus smacked him on the shoulder to hurry him along.

“I’m pretty sure the next step was to become boyfriends.” Sirius beamed.

“And happily ever after will come later.” Remus agreed, and then his lips were back on Sirius’ while both boys were completely oblivious to the rest of the people around them.

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

gone for you

summary: everyone knows you and Brock are perfect for each other—everyone but you and Brock.

warnings: a singular swear

word count: 2.2k

note from the writer: I got this idea last night, and, well, here it is. quite possibly the softest thing I have ever written.

There was a running joke that you and Brock were meant to be together. That you were two halves of the same idiot, an old married couple—if there was an euphemism for being in love, you had heard it tossed around you and Brock.

You never really saw it, he was just your best friend and closest confidant in Vancouver. You were always his plus one to events, he had a standing invitation to come to yours for dinner and movies. You had a copy of his key and he had your spare. You were best friends, nothing more and certainly nothing less.

Until.

“You know, you’re allowed to taste it.” You teased, a grin evident on your face as Brock pouted at you. It was the night before he left for a road trip, and you had invited him over for your traditional going away spaghetti dinner. You had insisted that he invite Petey, Jake, or Quinn sometime, but he claimed he was doing you a favor keeping them away from you. You’d roll your eyes, knowing that Petey was nothing short of a gentleman, unable to cut the same slack for the other two.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mean to me.” Brock shot back, his eyes narrowed at you playfully. You couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of the wine that Brock had brought.

“I’m sorry, but you’re practically shoveling it down your throat.” You explained with your hands raised in innocence. Brock rolled his eyes as you, but you spotted the slight upturn of the corner of his lips. “What would your mom say?”

“She would say be nice.” He was fully grinning now, and you let out a scoff. Both of you knew that would not be what she would say. “You got a little…” He trailed off, pointing to his chin. You wiped at your face with a napkin, but when he moved his finger to the other side of his face, you knew he was just messing with you. Dropping your jaw, you balled up the napkin and tossed it across your kitchen table at him.

“And I’m the mean one.” You grumbled. Brock was laughing as if he had said the funniest thing, and despite your previous annoyance, you couldn’t help the way the corner of your lips turned up at the sound. “You better appreciate all the cooking I do for you, Boeser.”

“Trust me, I appreciate it. I’m gonna appreciate a second serving, too.” He joked as he scooped more spaghetti onto his plate. Then, he twirled way too much pasta onto his fork and shoved the whole thing into his mouth, all the while never breaking the eye contact with you.

And then it hit you.

You were in love with your best friend. The one that everyone teased you about, the one you swore up and down was just a friend. You couldn’t imagine your life without him, the chirps, the crazy hockey schedules, the late nights at bars celebrating wins. Brock was your person.

It was funny, really, that Brock was the most handsome man you had ever seen. Any number of women would kill to get a chance with him, simply because he was tall and charming and played hockey. And sure, those parts of him were definitely attractive, but the Brock you were in love with was the one that was sitting opposite you at the kitchen table.

Grinning like a complete dumbass with a too-large mouthful of spaghetti and sauce all over his chin.

It was a little too much for you to handle all at once. Coming to the realization that you were completely head over heels for your best friend was enough to send anyone into a tailspin, so you were understandably caught off guard.

“Wa s’matter?” Brock asked, speaking with his mouth full and effectively dragging you back to reality. You grimaced at the sight, because even if you were in love with the fool, he was still being gross. When you realized he was waiting for an explanation for why you had spaced out for a moment, you panicked, and said the first thing that came to mind.

“Get a grip, Boeser.”

Brock came to the same realization that you did a week later.

He was coming back from the road trip, it was late at night and you had stopped answering his texts an hour earlier so he assumed you had gone to bed. He wanted nothing more than to go crash in his own bed, but he knew he’d have to let his dogs out and make sure they had everything they needed before he could do so.

But then he swung open his front door and saw your shoes. Next to where he set his keys on the entryway table, there was a piece of paper that he certainly didn’t leave there before he left. He recognized your handwriting, the ‘I already walked the dogs for the night’ making him selfishly relieved that he wouldn’t have to do so. He couldn’t help the grin that grew on his face as he ventured further inside, wondering just how long you had been at his place.

When he finally found you, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He wasn’t sure that he could even feel so caught off guard by his own emotions, but the moment his eyes landed on you, it was like he had been run over by a truck.

You were passed out on his couch, curled up in not only one of his hoodies, but one of his spare blankets. You were cuddling Milo into your chest, and Coolie was tucked into the crook of your knees. It struck him just how much you looked like you belonged there, that this was your place too and it was a normal thing for him to come home to. And Brock decided then and there that you were the only person that he ever wanted to come home to again.

Milo, ever excited to see Brock, started squirming in your grip. His eyes widened and he took a step forward in a futile attempt to keep the dog from waking you. He wasn’t quick enough, and for the second time that night he felt his heart stop beating in his chest as you slowly blinked awake.

“Shit, did I fall asleep?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and stretching a bit as Milo leaped off of the couch and started jumping on Brock’s legs. It was only then that he saw you had been using his television to watch Netflix, the screen asking if you were still there.

“Uh, yeah.” Brock replied, kicking himself silently for taking so long to reply. You were his best friend, he shouldn’t be so nervous around you. He had always known you were beautiful, he wasn’t blind, but you looked absolutely stunning on his couch late at night curled up in his clothes and with his dogs. “Are you gonna spend the night?”

“Yeah.” Brock shifted on his feet nervously, wondering just how he was going to deal with sharing a bed with you—because you always cuddled whenever you spent the night, and he would be damned if he was going to pass on the opportunity to hold you in his arms—because his heart was beating out of his chest from his spot on the other side of the room.

“Well, come on then, lazy.” Brock felt proud of himself for a moment, how some of his normalcy returned in the form of chirping you. But then you stretched out your arms to him and made grabby-hands, and grinned that dazzling smile of yours that nearly knocked him flat off his feet.

“Carry me.” You drawled out, still half delirious from sleep. Brock rolled his eyes, but certainly did not need to be told twice before he fully crossed the room and scooped you up bridal style. Brock, while on his way to his bedroom, tripped over the blanket that had been knocked off your lap and onto the ground when he picked you up. Your giggle rang loud in his quiet apartment, and Brock felt his chest tighten in adoration at the sound.

And in that moment, Brock knew one thing for certain—he was a goner.

You had thought that you were doing a good job of hiding your newly developed feelings for your best friend. Or rather, not so new, but more so acknowledged feelings. You still hung out with Brock, answered his texts and calls as if nothing was wrong—as if your heart wasn’t pounding out of your chest every time you so much as thought about the blonde. You were fine. You were dealing.

Brock, on the other hand, must have sensed your change in feelings, because it started to seem like he was pulling away from you. You were convinced that he knew how you felt and this was his way of letting you down easily. It had only been four days after he came back from his road trip, and it seemed as if he was trying to put some distance between you and him. you were lucky if you got so much as a text from him once he had gotten back.

It was enough to have you pulling your hair out. You were lost, you didn’t want to lose Brock, but you also couldn’t help how you felt. It had only been four days since he started acting different, and you were already going crazy without him.

So it wasn’t really a surprise that you found yourself standing outside his front door without giving him any heads up that you were coming over. You raised your fist and knocked, cringing at the action, because you didn’t knock.

Brock was clearly equally as confused as you were when he opened the door and saw you standing there. Neither one of you could remember the last time you had hadn’t just let yourself into his place. It spoke volumes to how disconnected you felt from Brock.

“What’s going on?” You sighed, surprising yourself with how exhausted and defeated you sounded. Brock just looked at you for a moment, and you felt as if he was seeing everything you had wanted to hide. The tugging in your chest that seemed to be pulling you closer to him with each passing second, how your heart was racing a thousand miles and hour from just being so close to him, how you wanted nothing more than to never have to knock ever again.

“I… I’m sorry.” Brock mumbled, pulling you into his arms and shutting the door behind you. You relaxed in his embrace, noting just how much his touch affected you. You didn’t want to move away, but you knew you had to get some answers. You had to come clean about your feelings and face the music that your relationship with Brock was changed forever.

“I should be the one that’s sorry, I don’t want you to make you uncomfortable, but—”

“What? No, no. You’re not making me uncomfortable. I promise.” Brock was quick to cut you off, silencing you by squeezing you tighter into him. You shook your head, pressing your hands on his chest and pushing just enough so he let you go. After taking a step back, he wasn’t looking at you.

“Listen, I get that you think it’s weird, but fuck, Brock, you can’t just cut me out like this.” You rambled, not stopping when you saw Brock’s guilty expression to melt to one of confusion. “Okay? I love you and you don’t love me, which is fine, but you cannot just ignore me.”

“Wait, what?” Brock was looking at you as if you were speaking a foreign language, and you froze, wondering if you had over thought everything and had just confessed your feelings for no reason. You spluttered for a moment, wondering just how to salvage what’s left of your dignity. Turns out, you didn’t have to, because Brock took the step forward and placed his hands on your hips to keep you in place. “Do you… do you think that I don’t love you too?”

“You do?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but Brock heard it all the same and suddenly his grin was blinding and all you could see was him nodding. He tugged you closer to him, and your arms found their way around his waist.

“Does that mean I can kiss you now?” Brock asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he catalogged the fact that you weren’t pushing him away this time. It was your turn to nod, and the second that you did one of his hands cupped your jaw to hold you still as he gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and easy and everything that you thought it would be with Brock. You were grinning, and just as you were about to pull away to breathe you snuck one of your hands up to his ribcage and pinched him. He jumped back, grin still evident on his face as he regarded you with bewilderment and mirth. “What was that for?”

“For pushing me away instead of talking, Boeser.” You teased, leaning forward onto your tip-toes to press a few more kisses to his smile. His hands that had been resting on your waist moved around so that they were on the small of your back, tugging you completely flush against him with his chin resting atop your head.

“Mhm, I can take it, if this is what I get.”

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser imagines #Brock Boeser x reader #vancouver canucks #vancouver Canucks imagine #Vancouver Canucks x reader #hockey #hockey imagine #nhl #NHL imagine

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

It Happened on Sakaar Pt. 3

Mando x Asgardian!F!Reader; Loki x Asgardian!F!Reader

Rating: M; 18+ Only

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: cursing, angst, slow burn, pining, mentions of violence, 18+ in later chapters

Summary: The bounty hunter’s most recent puck sends him across the Galaxy to an unfamiliar and artificial planet named Sakaar- literally the galaxy’s trash can. Sakaar is a bizarre planet, but so is his most recent bounty. Din is chasing a man he only knows as The God of Mischief. The reader lives on Sakaar as a scrapper, a similar trade to that of a bounty hunter and has a tangled history with the man Mando is looking for. Will the unlikely duo team up to capture the mischievous Asgardian or will the reader fall victim to Loki’s promises?

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

So sorry this chapter is a little short! It’s a little bit of a filler chapter to establish some things before more events start to unfold.

This is unedited and if I missed anything that I should include as a warning please let me know! Thank you y’all!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

You resolved to see Thor as soon as you could. As soon as it was light the following morning, you dressed quickly, and headed to where you thought he would be kept. There was a small hospital wing inside the same building where the gladiators were kept. You figured you would try there first and with any luck he’d still be there. The walk was short, and you kept your head down to avoid any attention to the fact a scrapper was heading to the hospital wing to see one of the gladiators.

Some of these fighters were creatures you brought to the Grandmaster. You’re sure none of them would be too happy seeing you again, and so you kept your head down as you walked past the area where they stayed. This part of your life disgusted you. You never allowed yourself to focus too much on it because if it wasn’t them, it would be you. It was cruel, and a very harsh world the Grandmaster has made. But for you, you’ve heard the rumors of what happens to female captives, and you know even though you’re leading a terrible career- it is better than any other fate you would have faced on this planet.

When you arrive, there are no one in the beds that line the walls of the room. There are a few workers, dressed in basic medical uniforms and they refuse to give you any information on Thor’s whereabouts. They claimed he was never brought there, but part of you seriously doubts them. Discouraged, you head back out to the main area of the building and decide to head towards Mando’s hotel. However, something really peculiar stops you.

“Hello there, might I just say that weapon of yours is some mighty fine-looking artillery,” said the voice. He was overly positive, and he spoke in a very unique accent, like every final syllable of each word he spoke was raised. “My name is Korg.”

You turn your head quickly towards the voice, and there he was. A tall, blueish gray rock creature waving to you like a school child behind the electric barrier. He was clearly one of the gladiators, you recognized him from the fights. Your chuckle is involuntary because his voice and his way of carrying himself does not match the stature of stone.

“Hi Korg,” you say puzzled. “I’m Scrapper 451.”

“Please to meet you, this here is Meek.” Only then did you notice the significantly shorter creature standing beside him. You couldn’t even begin to describe Meek, maybe like a walking catfish? “We heard you were looking for Thor.”

“You know Thor?” you ask, spirits lifting as you take a step closer to the barrier. “He’s my friend,” you explain, “I need to find him.”

“Ah well,” Korg explains, “You see there was a lot of disgruntlement after the fight. People weren’t sure how to call the fight, seeing as how the Grandmaster intercepted as he does. Some people were saying Thor should be the new champion and the Grandmaster was saying his Champion is the champion so for now until they know what to do with the Lord of Thunder, they are keeping in the Room of Champions.”

“They thought having them share a bedroom was a good idea?” you ask, your eyes widening.

“You know that you say it like that, it doesn’t seem like the best decision,” Korg nods, and Meek makes some noise in agreement, you can only assume.

“Why are you helping me?” you ask, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Well, all in the name of friendship,” Korg shrugs, “Thor is my friend.”

“Thank you, Korg,” you say earnestly, and he nods in response, rolling his shoulders back like he just won some sort of war hero.

“Anything for the cause!” he shouts triumphantly, as you walk away. You check the time on the time piece on your wrist. It was getting later in the morning and you needed to find Thor before the day began. You took the nearest lift in the building and rode it up to the top floor to the penthouse where they kept the Champion.

As you approached the room, you saw the large green figure was sleeping soundly in the very large bed. You saw how gaudy the room was, painted starkly in red and white. It was a little bit of an eye sore, but it was decorated with the Grandmaster’s eye, no doubt. You walked up to the doorway and you saw Thor, sleeping on the ground, as a few girls tended to his wounds. You waited until they were done and he was awake before you made yourself known.

“Your majesty,” you whispered, hoping he would hear you. The man turned his head and his eyes widened and his booming voice echoed through the whole room. You rolled your eyes at his inability to be subtle. Did he not realize he was his own worst enemy? He called your name happily and ushered you to enter. He engulfed you in a grizzly hug. It was honestly very comforting. You had missed your friend.

“You won’t believe the past few days since you’ve left,” Thor tries to quickly explain.

“Wait. Wait. What do you mean?” you ask puzzled.

“When you went through the Bifrost a few days ago,” he began again, trying to hurriedly fill you in on the details of Hela, and all that was happening back home.

“Thor, what do you mean? I’ve been on Sakaar for the past two years,” you explain.

“You left two or three days ago,” Thor states, his confusion evident on his face.

“Loki has been here for a few weeks,” you add.

“I don’t have an explanation, but you need to understand that Loki and I were thrown from the Bifrost by Hela at the same time. Loki thrown out only seconds before me. Time obviously works different here. You need to believe me that to us, you haven’t even been gone a week,” Thor says. You don’t know how to process this information yet.

The whole time you’d been here, thinking they’d all just chose to let you leave. You thought they didn’t care enough to come find you, after all you did for the throne. Now, after two years of sitting with this, you learn for them it’s been two goddamn days and somehow the Goddess of Death has returned the day after you left?

“Loki was going to follow you,” Thor explains, “but I made him come with me to find our father. I needed him to show me where he had left Odin. I know you can understand that.”

“Of course,” you say, “But Loki has been here for weeks, and never sought me out.”

Thor scoffs, muttering how it was typical of the god of mischief. He looks at you apologetically, and you can see tears welling behind his eyes, from all he has gone through since the last time you had seen him. He mutters something about his hammer before burying his face into your neck to hug you again tightly.

“There’s something I need to do,” you tell him, as you try to comfort him by rubbing his back.

“When I’m done, we’ll get you back to Asgard,” you insist.

“This can’t wait,” Thor interjects. “I need a way to leave now. Actually, I have a wrench in the plan as well,” he continues, looking over to the sleeping monster on the bed. “He’s got to come with me.”

“What why?” you ask, stepping forward to sneak a peak at the sleeping green creature.

“He’s one of the Avengers, he’s trapped here too,” Thor explains.

“The ones you told us about from Earth?” you ask. “I didn’t realize Midgardians could look like that.”

“No, no it’s just the one,” Thor explains, “I think.”

“What about Loki?” you ask, your mind returning to the promise you made to Mando.

“He seems content to stay here,” Thor sighs, and you scoff. Seemed like a simple enough plan for you and Thor to manage, you’d help Mando with the bounty, Thor and the Hulk could secure a ship. Everyone can win.

“In the meantime,” you say not wanting to dwell on Loki, “You help your friend and try to secure us a ship, I’ll take care of what I have to do and we can find each other after that.

“Okay,” Thor agrees, and you hug him tightly one more time before heading off to meet with Mando. You check the time, and you hustle to make it, not even saying a hello to Scrapper 142 as you pass her in the hallway.

Mando sat in him room anxiously. He had let is emotions get the better of him, and he was spiraling in his own state of paranoia you would betray him. He was worried you would have gone to Loki, and told him of the fact a bounty hunter was here and after him. Perhaps, you reunited with him and you fell back into a relationship with him. He chastised himself. He shouldn’t care what you do, and it’s his own fault for trusting you with information about his job.

He stayed up late with the kid last night, this planet was no place to be traveling with a child, and he knew he was not being fair to him. The little guy had a hard time sleeping last night, and Mando stayed up with him, and even stayed awake long after the kid had fallen asleep just in case, he woke up again.

The knock on the other side of the door, took him out of his thoughts and he felt guilty for thinking you wouldn’t show. You arrived only a few minutes later than he was supposed to expect you and he blames himself for how he took your tardiness as a sign of disloyalty.

“Sorry,” you say a little out of breath, “I needed to talk to Thor and I received more information about why they are here. It has nothing to do with who hired you or why you were sent here.”

“That’s alright,” Mando says, looking at you. He felt flushed under the helmet, embarrassed like you had caught him thinking of you as a traitor.

“But I don’t need to bother you with any of that,” you say, sounding like you are trying to cover your own distress. “We should talk about the plan regarding Loki.”

“Yeah,” Mando agrees, but he wants to ask you what is wrong. Clearly whatever happened with Thor has you upset and he wants to help you.

“There’s a party coming up,” you say, “similar to the one you infiltrated before. I’m sure Loki in his attempts to get close to the Grandmaster should be there. I have to be there anyways. Same reason.”

Mando can’t help himself when the image of when he ran into you before enters his mind. Whatever crush he had he needed to get over it. For his own sake, yours, the kid… Letting his emotions and his own attraction to you affect his decisions was going to be detrimental. It wasn’t fair to put his own feelings first. He needed to keep them at bay, at least until the bounty was caught. He tells himself its because you’re helping him and not looking for anything in return, and the fact that his last relationship was with a deranged twi years ago. He’s not used to niceness with no strings attached. It also doesn’t help that you’re probably the most beautiful being he’s ever seen- no. He’s not letting himself go there.

“Thor told me that Loki had wanted to come for me,” you continue, “I think that’s something we could take advantage of.”

“Wasn’t it years ago?” he asks.

“Apparently not to them,” you sigh, taking a seat on a chair that was opposite him. The child fussed and tugged on your pant leg. You looked to Mando for permission before scooping up the baby in your arms. He cooed happily and you stroke his ears gently. “Time must work differently here,” you try rationalize, “Thor said I only left two days ago. He said Loki wanted to follow me, but Thor needed him.”

“So, two years here, has been the equivalent of two days back on your home planet?”

“Basically,” you sigh, “But I think I can use that to my advantage. Loki hasn’t had the time to get over things between me and him like I’ve had. If Thor was telling the truth, maybe Loki thinks he has a chance of getting me back and I let him think he can. Maybe I can get his guard down.”

“Are you sure?” Mando asks, concern evident in his tone. You manage a half smile, appreciating that at least he seemed to care. It was sweet, and something you had gone without for the past two years. Which for your lifetime, that wasn’t that long, but a year on Asgard with your friends, the richness of that life, is much shorter than the grueling day to day of your life on Sakaar.

“Yes, we capture Loki, and then I’ll return to Asgard with Thor,” you resolve, although you actually aren’t sure you want to return to Asgard. It was your home planet, but the place hadn’t felt like your home in a long time. However, you can’t just stay here forever, you are starting to realize. Maybe you’d go to Earth, or maybe some other planet. Somewhere a little kinder than this one. Hell, maybe you could manage a ship and be a nomad- just go where ever the galaxy sent you. Maybe you could hitch a ride with Mando? In exchange for helping him capture Loki. “Maybe I’ll go somewhere else. I’m not sure.”

Mando bites his tongue to keep him from inviting you with him. That was not something he thought would be something you’d want. The child cuddled up in your arms, he takes the opportunity to look at you, closely. You’re so good with him and it makes him wonder if you and him could continue to work together after this job. He could take you away from this planet and the people from your past that keep showing up to haunt you. You could help him raise the child until he’s able to return him to the Jedi. The time he’s traveled in isolation is weighing heavy on him, and he knows he will do better with a partner. He needs you.

Taglist:

@msclifford @doctoreuphoria @gloryekaterina @sassy-kassaay @oh-oh-oh-its-magic @letsfly-andbe-free

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rockislandadultreads · 3 years

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Small Town Serial Murders

Out of Body by Jeffrey Ford

Out of Body is a dark fantasy thriller from multi-award-winning author Jeffrey Ford. A small-town librarian witnesses a murder at his local deli, and what had been routine sleep paralysis begins to transform into something far more disturbing. The trauma of holding a dying girl in his arms drives him out of his own body. The town he knows so well is suddenly revealed to him from a whole new perspective. Secrets are everywhere and demons fester behind closed doors. Worst of all, he discovers a serial killer who has been preying on the area for over a century, one capable of traveling with him through his dreams.

The Patient by Steena Holmes

A therapist must face her own worst fear—one of her patients is a serial killer. Dani Rycroft suspects someone close to her has a dark secret. In the confidential setting of therapy, her patients share their anxieties and fears. Now, with a string of murders in town putting her on edge, Dani’s own worries come close to eclipsing her patients’. In each case, the pattern is the same: parents killed while their children sleep blissfully unaware in their beds. Her best friend, Detective Tami Sloan, is the only person she has confided in. Dani believes that there’s still a secret one patient has yet to share. But which one? Behind a familiar face is a stranger who’ll do anything to hide their worst compulsions. The anxiety brings Dani to her own therapist’s office, seeking counsel and comfort. But what is she willing to risk, and how much closer must she get, to stop them?

When You See Me by Lisa Gardner

FBI Special Agent Kimberly Quincy and Sergeant Detective DD Warren have built a task force to follow the digital bread crumbs left behind by deceased serial kidnapper Jacob Ness. And when a disturbing piece of evidence comes to light, they decide to bring in Flora Dane who has personal experience of being imprisoned by Ness. Their investigations take them to a small town deep in the hills of Georgia where something seems to be deeply wrong. What at first seems like a Gothic eeriness soon hardens into something much more sinister as they discover that for all the evil Jacob committed while alive, his worst secret is still to be revealed. Quincy and DD must summon their considerable skills and experience to crack the most disturbing case of their careers - and Flora must face her own past directly in the hope of saving others.

Chasing the Boogeyman by Richard Chizmar

In the summer of 1988, the mutilated bodies of several missing girls begin to turn up in a small Maryland town. The grisly evidence leads police to the terrifying assumption that a serial killer is on the loose in the quiet suburb. But soon a rumor begins to spread that the evil stalking local teens is not entirely human. Law enforcement, as well as members of the FBI are certain that the killer is a living, breathing madman—and he’s playing games with them. For a once peaceful community trapped in the depths of paranoia and suspicion, it feels like a nightmare that will never end. Recent college graduate Richard Chizmar returns to his hometown just as a curfew is enacted and a neighborhood watch is formed. In the midst of preparing for his wedding and embarking on a writing career, he soon finds himself thrust into the real-life horror story. Inspired by the terrifying events, Richard writes a personal account of the serial killer’s reign of terror, unaware that these events will continue to haunt him for years to come. A clever, terrifying, and heartrending work of metafiction, Chasing the Boogeyman is the ultimate marriage between horror fiction and true crime. Chizmar’s writing is on full display in this truly unique novel that will haunt you long after you turn the final page.

#Horror #Thrillers #mystery #mysteries #mystery books #serial killers #small town #reading recommendations #Book Recommendations #to read #tbr #scary stories #murderinos #murderino #murder mystery #scary books

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danni-chuu · 4 years

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The 7 brothers with a 10 year-old lilith (+ side characters & mc)

This is an hc is inspired by the chapter 14 flashback, so the gist of this Hc is what if lilith gets turned into a 10 year old child try as diavolos way to save her. This is gonna be a really long post so strap in~❤️.

This hc post is made with the help of my friend, @heeminchan, thankiez.

General info about 10 year old lilith:

She has no recollection or memories about the celestial war or being an angel at all.

The post might say 10 years old but she's probably already pass the 1000+ mark, but still is and acts like a child.

She looks like ruri chan ( for reference here)

So without further babbling, lez go❤️

Lucifer

" if you behave I'll give you a princess poison apple and play with you "

Lucifer being the eldest takes it upon himself to be a father like figure to her. In front of the others, he makes sure to keep a strict front but in private, he's alot more softer on her.

Lucifer's room has a toy chest for her since she likes spending time and playing in his room. And being the child that she is, she even dresses up the skeleton in his room. If he's not busy, he would play with her, simple playing house and all.

One time while lucifer was doing paper work,lilith wanted to help him . So to keep lilith busy, he handed her a bunch of void documents and told her to sign them. In the end she got bored and decided to draw her with her 7 older brothers. Which luci decided to frame and put up at the entrance hall.

If lilith gets into trouble, luci doesn't shy away from punishment. But rather than stringing someone upside down and leaving them like that for 100 years, he would just ground lilith and take away her toys. (Buuuuut her other brothers would just sneak some of her toys to her room, especially beel and belphie)

Mammon

" heh you should be greatful you're brothers with the GREAT mammon, shortie! Huh?! w-wait dont cry! "

Mammon loves teasing lilith. Be it calling her a pipspeak, shortie, cry baby, etc. He's said them all, buuuuut he always takes it back because lilith might tell lucifer and he gets punished AG A I N.

Lilith as much as possible doesn't leave any of her things in mammon's room, because her other brothers warn her that he's going to sell them away.

One time mammon stole something from lucifer (probably something to profit from), and lilith was in lucifers room because she was playing hide and seek with beel. Seeing mammon stealing, she gets out of her hiding spot and tells mammon that she will rat him out to her big brother lucifer.mammon taking non of this shitz says he'll do whatever she wants. By the end of the day, lilith gets a new plushie and mammon still got ratted out because how can she lie to her big brother lucifer?

Mammon does try to get her involved in his schemes sometimes. Making her ask money from her other brothers and other more shenanigans, but when he's feeling it he will in fact spoil her with little treats such as candy.

Leviathan

" wooah you look so much like ruri-chan! Can you sing too?"

Levi is still as much of a shut- in, having a younger sibling that he can teach TSL or play games with is his dream come true. Lilith goes to his room to watch anime (for her its cartoons but dont tell levi because he will be very triggered) with him and play video games.

If lilith does go to levi's room , he's always watching out just in case she ends up using his precious figurines as dolls or touching his precious merch. Sometimes( most of the time) when he's too busy playing his games, lilith will just talk to henry 2.0 and feed him.

Levi is a mega ultra super duper (insert more hyperbolic words) fan of ruri-chan, so during lilith's birthday..he gave her a ruri-chan costume (the other brothers already knew where this was heading but they couldn't stop it since lilith liked the cute clothes). She wore them and levi literally freaked because she looked just like her! He posted a picture of her on devilgram and the pic got a decent amount of likes.

The only time that lilith gets in trouble with levi is her staying with him past her bed time, she gets pouty about it but in the end she still gets taken to bed by her big brother lucifer.

Satan

"i can read you a story or we can play tea time, what do you prefer? "

Satan acts alot like a tutor to lilith, he teaches her about manners, reading and writing, and many other things. Satan loves teaching lilith especially when he sees her trying to pronounce big words, which he finds adorable.

Satan for the most part wants lilith to stay out of his room because there are too many dangerous books around. But he would rather play with her in her room instead, either reading a children's bed time book before going to bed or playing tea time with her. They both share a love for pets and animals, so in his free time, he will take her to a kitty cafe where she can play with the lil furballs.

Satan was regulary teaching lilith about different animals, until they got to the cat. Lilith became so intrigued by cats that satan spent a good 30 minutes to an hour of answering her questions about cats. One day, he saw lilith crying by the stairs. He quickly went over and asked her what's wrong, only to find out that she asked lucifer if they can adopt a cat wherein lucifer completely dismisses the idea. Knowing that Lucifer's mind wont change, the next day satan surprises lilith with a black cat plushie with a red bow tie thats as tall (or alitte bit smaller) than her. Until this day, the cat plushie satan gave her is her favourite. She is never seen without it, and she even gave it a name, mr. Momo.

The only time that lilith ever gets in trouble is if she joins in on satan's pranks on lucifer. But most of the time she's let off the hook if they're harmless ones.

Asmodeus

" waahh~ lilith's so adorable, but not as adorable as me"

To lilith, asmo is the closest thing to a sister she can have. Being the only girl in the house( before mc, if mc is a girl ), asmo likes to doll her up and make her his little dress up doll. He often buys clothes for her because he just LOVES making her pretty.

She doesn't spend as much time in asmo's room because there isn't much to do there, but when asmo calls her in after a shopping trip. She already knows he's going to make her pretty as a peach!

It was lilith's birthday and Asmo wanted to dress her up for the occasion! Hair? Check! Make up? Check! Clothes? Check! She was looking as pretty as ever (but not as pretty as him). After dolling her up , lilith went to her other brothers to show Amos work. All of them asked if a child should be wearing that much make up, but asmo tells lilith to shrug them off because they can't appreciate beauty even if it hits them in the face!

The one thing that gets lilith in trouble is lucifer seeing her being dressed by asmo , wearing clothes not fit for a 10 year old girl. Seriously, devilgram level make up on a kid is not appropriate (well in lucifer and some of the other brothers point of view)

Beezlebub

" the eggs taste like plastic..huh? I'm not supposed to eat them? Sorry, they looked too realistic"

Beel is very close with lilith. He spends most of his time watching over her or bringing her to his favourite food joints to eat. Since beel is so big, she loves it when he carries her around, either on his shoulders or just being carried in general. Beel wants to protect lilith at all times, so if sorcerers or witches want to summon lilith, he comes along to watch over her still.

if its not Lucifer's room, lilith's next stop is always the twin's room. She goes in and jumps on either of the beds and having her toys there as well she can already entertain herself. When beel is there to play with her, she likes to play chef and make him food using her plastic kitchen toy set( though some pieces are missing since beel keeps forgetting that its plastic). If she doesn't want to play with her toys, she tries to tickle fight beel and always wins.

Beel was in his room eating a box of cupcakes until lilith barges in and sees him eating cupcakes, she pouts at beel asking why he didn't tell her that he had cupcakes. Beel, being beel just says to her, " they're my cupcakes". She pouts even more and says that she wants a cupcake as well. Beel couldn't resist and splits the cupcake, giving the other half to her. After finishing the cupcake, he promises to buy her a box aswell next time.

Lilith having a sweet tooth herself will often look in the fridge for sweets. She sometimes ends up eating beels food(custard), and hides the evidence. Beel rampages again and breaks the kitchen. Lucifer then lines all of them up and ask who ate the custard, and all of them immediately suspect mammon. But being a good girl, lilith admits her mistake and apologizes to beel, who calms down and says ," you could have left me some..".

Belphegor

" how about later...? Im still too sleepy to teach you..."

Belphie, same with beel, is pretty close with lilith. If he isn't cuddling her as his favourite cuddle buddy, he's teaching her how to dance ballet(Based it off his dancing sprite). Lilith spends most of her afternoon napping with belphie.

Besides playing with beel , lilith also loves playig around with belphie. She makes it an everyday challenge for herself to wake him up in the most creative ways. It can be things such as ice,drawing on his face, tickles, etc. When belphie is too lazy to stand up from bed( which is often), she just plays with his hair and does whatever she wants with it. When he finally does stand up, he teaches lilith some ballet. While she's even wearing her full ballet attire, with tutu included.

It was the middle of the night and lilith had a nightmare, she wanted to go to her big brother lucifer, but it was already late and she might be disturbing him. But then she remembered that mid nights is when his big brother belphie is awake, so she goes over to him with mr.momo. belphie is alittle confused since its way past her bedtime so he asked her whats wrong. She climbs up his bed and hugs him, after calming down she tells belphie that she had a nightmare. Belphie was well acquainted with nightmares, so he knew exactly what to do. They went to the kitchen and both had a cup of warm milk. Going back to his room, he cuddled up with lilith and made sure she had a good nights sleep.

Lilith ends up over sleeping and gets very cranky if she gets rudely awakened.the others find it very adorable.

"...." * Huwgs*

So this depends on the mc's personality but lets start from the beginning. After being sent to the devildom and having the basic run down of what is to come, mammon takes you to the house of lamentations. The first thing you notice once the door opens, is toys scattered all around the entrance hall. Not only toys, but you see a height lines at one of the door frames. Mammon gets more annoyed because he stepped on one of the toys and he shouts out," lilith!". A small girl carrying a black cat plushie almost her size comes down the stairs. Mammon scolds her for leaving her toys out like that and he introduces you to their 8th sibling, lilith. Lilith immediately hugs you (no matter the gender), because it's been a while since she's seen a human. And you become her instant play mate.

The mc's room already has a toy chest, filled with lilith's favourite toys. She likes to play around with the mc and actually gets quite attached to them.

Lilith gets so comfortable around the mc that she ask permission from her big brother luci if she can make a pact with the mc. Of course, lucifer is skeptical but he allows it because of liliths enthusiasm.

Diavolo

" ah lilith , I didn't think you would be accompanying lucifer today. "

Dia acts alot like the rich uncle that only comes back during the holidays to give out presents. Lilith rarely gets to see diavolo because most of the time it's only lucifer that gets to see him. But, when lucifer does come back he often gives lilith sweets that barbatos made by diavolo's order.

On the rare occasions that lucifer brings lilith along with him, she acts very reserved and shows off the manners lessons that satan has been teaching her.

On one evening, lucifer brings lilith along to dinner with diavolo. While eating, diavolo jokes around saying that lucifer should just stay in the castle with him. Suddenly, lilith bumps in and protests against the idea, " no big brother luci's staying with us". She hugs as much of lucifers arm that she can, giving diavolo her most pouty and "menacing face". Dia loves seeing how much she cares for her brother, while lucifer is trying his best to hide his embarrassment.

Luke

" ahhhhh! Im not a child! I dont want to play with a demon!"

When lilith first saw luke, her mind immediately said," playmate! ". Though luke always complains about being treated like a child because he's short, he tries to bare it because simeon convinced him to play with lilith.

When in the purgatory hall, she brings along mr.momo and some other toys. luke sometimes pretend he isn't there so he doesn't have to play with lilith, but once he hears a sniffle of her almost crying. He couldn't help but open the door for her and play.

Upon first meeting luke, the key difference in height was..still... apparent. Somehow, lilith is still a few inches taller than luke. Being the giddy child she is, she tells her brothers about it and they all start laughing their lungs out. And when luke finally got wind of it, he was so flustered and embarrassed, he almost refused to leave his room.

Solomon

" why not make a pact with me?"

All her brothers warn her about solomon and to stay as far away from him as possible, she rarely gets to interact with him. But most of the times they do meet, he often ask her to make a pact with him. She always replies to him, " i have to ask big brother luci's permission first". Solomon just smiles and pats her head.

Huhu not much i can say about him since im sure the brothers distance lilith from solomon as much as possible.

And that concludes this very very long post , hope you guys enjoyed it❤️❤️❤️

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me lilith #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me mc #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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