☁️ to feel is to love

summary ⎯ reader is on her period and matt decides to come over so he can comfort her (and basically the request)

warnings ⎯ matt x fem!reader, pure fluff

A/N ⎯ i'm sorry for how short this is but it was still fun to writee

i hope you enjoy <3

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

matt walks into the living room where he finds his girlfriend curled into a ball on the couch, clinging onto her own body as though she has no other purpose. he smiles to himself at the sight briefly, recognising the fact that she's probably still in pain like she was when she texted him earlier that day.

"baby?" he calls out a little, making his way to sit beside her on the couch and frowning slightly when she merely groans in response.

"not feeling any better?" he continues to speak, beginning to softly stroke her back to provide her with some form of comfort because he's more than aware she ever so desperately needs it.

"no..." the word is short and simple, as well as a little muffled from her face being buried in one of the decoration cushions.

"can you sit up for me?" he asks her after a few short moments and with hesitation, she sits up, instantly clinging to his side and burying her face in the crook of his neck whilst her hands fly to grasp his lean torso.

he smiles softly at how eager she is to get close to him and the fact that she's also able to seek comfort within him. it honestly does wonders reassuring him; the way she's able to turn to him even when it seems as though she wants nothing but to suffer in silence and solitude.

"where does it hurt?" his voice is soft and welcoming as he questions her, his hands gently raking through her hair to ease the headache she undoubtedly has.

she sighs before she speaks up again, "literally everywhere but especially my back."

"have you taken any tablets?" his hands now move to her lower back, rubbing small circles as a means of trying to prevent the pain from getting any worse.

"they're not working," she groans for what feels like the millionth time, rubbing her temple with her hands and holding onto matt even tighter.

he pulls away from her a little and she frowns but quickly drops the expression when his gentle hands move to her back, kneading at the skin. she sighs out in pleasure, leaning into his touch to feel it better.

his hands are soft but rough at the same time, easing the ache in the perfect manner and she can already feel the tension in her limbs starting to dissipate. there's silence that lingers in the room but neither of them feels the need to break it. she's happy with the delicate feeling and he's beyond happy to provide it for her.

"feels so good matt, thank you," she sighs happily, making sure to let him know she's grateful for all he does for her.

"that's good, i want you to feel good," is his response and she simply can't help what she does next.

she shifts her head around a little, straining her back in the process but finding it worth it for matt. she presses a sweet kiss to his welcoming lips and smiles into the connection purely because of how appreciative she feels both now and always.

"turn around, i'm not done with you," he scolds her falsely and her grin widens as she shakes her head before following his instructions.

he removes her top so she can feel the palms of his hands better. she shudders a little when the cold air hits her directly but his warm hands are quick to replace the temperature. he continues to massage her, hitting all the right spots and kissing at her back to make her feel as best as he can.

when he's done with that, he pulls her backwards so that her bare back collides with his chest. he begins to pepper kisses all over her neck and collarbone, smiling to himself when he feels her body heating up rather than sees it. he doesn't stop though, his lips trailing across her skin in an attempt to reach every last spot he can, given the position they're currently in.

"so pretty," he mumbles against her neck and she turns around to kiss him again, her way of thanking him without having to say anything at all.

"i love you," the words are spoken against his lips and he giggles a little at the vibration he feels, making her laugh too because of how adorable it sounds.

"i love you baby," he replies once their laughter dies down and she gets the sudden overwhelming urge to cry.

he notices the slight shift in her demeanour instantly, frowning when he sees the water build up in her eyes. he pecks her forehead and then her cheek, swiping at the skin in comforting manner.

"i'm just emotional because of my period," she shakes her with a laugh before she follows, "i just love you so much."

he melts at her words whilst he rubs against her cheek tenderly. he loves the soft sound of her voice and the gentleness they can uphold without becoming uncomfortable. it's something he has grown to treasure; how easy it all is. how easy it is to be around her, to love her, to be himself. everything is easy and he can't even begin to explain in words how much he truly adores it.

"i love you so so much," he returns, beaming at her in the process before helping her put her top back on when he feels her shudder in his arms once more.

"i'm gonna go get you a hot water bottle," he tells her before standing up and making his way to the kitchen to boil some water.

she watches as he leaves, a delicate smile painted across her face at how she doesn't need to ask for him to do. things with matt feel effortless and she never wants that to stop. there's this sense of not needing to try too hard in the air to get what she wants or to feel loved and it makes her heart full beyond possibilities. she waits patiently, thoughts of her boyfriend circling her mind and a foolish smile adorning her features all at the same time.

when he's back in the room, a hot water bottle in his hand as promised, she just feels. it's a little strange that something so small makes her feel emotions so big but when it comes to matt, she doesn't know to distinguish between big or small. everything he does is so perfect and forms this big piece that settles so flawlessly in her heart.

he doesn't even hand her the bottle, simply takes a seat beside her and rests the hot water bottle in the exact position he always sees her placing it in. he doesn't let go either, merely holding it in place without so much as a simple complaint.

"i ordered waffles, i know you always crave desserts," he points out absentmindedly and she kisses his cheek immediately.

"what did i do to deserve you?" she mumbles with love cursing through her veins and he shakes his head at her fondly.

"what didn't you do?" is what he chooses to say and though the water bottle is providing an immense amount of heat, it is as though his words are sending the most heat through her.

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

tags: @mattslolita @sturniolololover @mattsleftnipple03 @that-general-simp

Could you do one about matt, where the reader has migraines and matt does everything he can to help her, lots of physical touch, words of affirmation etc

Ilysm and your writing ur amazing<3

as someone who’s had migraines and headaches every single day for 4 years I loved writing this. i hope you’re doing well feel free to message me if you ever need to talk, i know how difficult this can be. sending my love to you

꩜ migraine ꩜

Waking up in excruciating pain has become my new normal. From the moment my eyes open I’m greeted by the familiar feeling of a migraine. The dull pressure around my head makes it feel like it’ll burst at any given moment.

Rubbing my eyes, I sharply inhale as a sharp jolt enters my temple and eye making it feel as if a nail has been driven into my head. Pulling the blanket over my head I groan. This isn’t how I expected today to go. You and I were supposed to spend the day in the city. Aimlessly reaching for my phone I turn Siri on and instruct her to send you a text.

“Hey Siri, send Matt a text” I grumble.

“What do you want to say?” Siri's voice irritates me more.

“Hi love, would we be able to do today’s plans another day? I woke up with a migraine again. I'm not doing well, it's taking a toll on me and I don’t wanna be a drag on our date. I’m really sorry I feel so bad. I know how busy you’ve been and how excited you were for this and I’ve ruined that. I'm sorry. If you aren’t busy maybe we can call later? I miss you and I love you” I tiredly mumbled to Siri to type out for me.

Putting my phone fast down on my nightstand, I bury my face into my pillow and pull the blankets up to my chin and try to sleep the pain away. I only slept for probably an hour until I breathed in a familiar scent. I slowly open my eyes to see you laying beside me. I waste no time burying my face into your chest and wrapping my arms around you.

“I'm so glad you're here” I mutter.

“I figured you'd either need or want some help since you aren't feeling good and I missed you” you whisper, making sure not to worsen my headache. “Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“I need my heated eye mask and my meds please, you know where they are right?” I ask.

“I'll go get them, I'll be quick” you softly say as you plant a kiss on my forehead.

Staying true to your words you’re back in a few minutes with my nice and hot eye mask and some meds to hopefully ease the pain.

Putting the warm mask over my eyes I get comfy, resting my head on your chest as one arm wraps around my waist and the other massaging my scalp, easing the building tension in my head.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that? It’s difficult being in pain let alone constantly and this badly but here you are still fighting. I know it’s draining and takes a mental toll on you but you’re doing so good. I wish I could take your pain for you. You amaze me with your strength” you praise me.

“Thank you for coming over. I’m sorry for ruining our plans not just today but every other time I end up having to cancel. I feel bad about it. I don’t want you to think that I don’t wanna spend time with you because that’s really all I want is to be with you” I whisper.

“Anytime sweet girl I’ll always be here for you no matter what. Don’t apologize, remember we don’t worry about things that are outside of our control. You can’t control when you get a migraine so don’t feel bad for canceling. Plus when you have a migraine it means that I get to come over and take care of you which I love. You could never ruin anything, simply being with you is enough for me. I love you sweet girl, now get some rest I’m here” you tell me, soothingly massaging my scalp.

Your gentle voice, the head massage, the eye mask, and the meds is the perfect concoction to make me doze off into a much needed sleep in the arms of my favorite person. Migraines aren’t so bad when I have you by my side.

taglist:

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0 @iluvmatt @stxrniqlo @antisocialties @fake-coolbeans

Something I never see people talk about (which could be because I simply haven't come across it) is how rough forming a new hyperfixation can be, especially a core hyperfixation.

I've loved Star Trek for years. But for whatever reason, it wasn't until a couple years ago that something in my brain *clicked* and it became a new core hyperfixation.

In some ways it was better than past such hyperfixations because there is so much Star Trek out there to consume, between shows and films and then the fandom content because this fandom has been alive and well for over 50 years, gave birth to modern fandom.

But that didn't change the fact that, for the ensuing six months, it consumed my life - and not in the fun, tongue-in-cheek way we say 'this fandom consumes my life', like semi-hyperbole.

When I say it consumed my life, I mean it was near non-stop hyperfocus for months.

My apartment was constantly a mess, same as my sense of time. My sleep schedule was constantly erratic. I was often dehydrated, had frequent headaches, often found myself shaking from all the adrenaline surges. I dropped fifteen pounds almost without noticing (weight I shouldn't have dropped).

I was always drained, always disoriented, always distracted. It didn't feel good. Really, it felt distinctly bad, and I felt completely out of control to make it stop. If I made myself ignore the media and fic and fan art and all of that, it just meant I sank into myself, got lost in my head for hours on end.

After the first two months it began to gradually, slowly ease up, and when I hit around six months it stopped feeling like I was being dragged along and started to feel the way I want when it comes to hyperfixations - it was fun, mood-boosting. Engaging with it improved my mental health, instead of causing it, along with my physical health, to deteriorate.

That was probably the worst 'epsiode' I've had, but I've had them several times. The one when I developed the Daredevil hyperfixation thankfully lasted only two months, same as when it was FMA:B and BBC Merlin, and...three months, I think, for Star Wars? The one that got closest was Smallville, my first fandom hyperfixation, though I imagine some of that had to do with it coming out when I first had regular internet access. That one was maybe four or five months, and was dragged out by the fact that I was in high school so I was 'forced' away from it all by the anxiety of college applications and AP exams and all that fun stuff.

I love having these things. They've been good for me, for my emotional welfare - have helped me survive so much. I never regret that initial rough aspect, not that I've ever had the power to do things differently.

But it is rough, and one of the aspects of neurodivergence I've had the most trouble explaining to neurotypical people. They see it as simple obsession or addiction, something that I fell into and need to take steps to pull myself out of, rather than something that my brain just does at the drop of a hat and which won't stop until I go through that process. Trying not to, trying to mitigate it, just ends up dragging that process out. It can't be reduced or bypassed. It's just part of how my brain works.

And people trying to interfere with that, to 'fix' that by making me pay attention to other things, giving me tasks, whatever it may be - it does nothing to change it. If anything, it makes the whole thing much more destabalizing, in ways that can have major consequences for my state of mind, and I've had the experiences to prove it.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, but I just...wanted to put it out there. I think there can be shame attached to this reality - shame I've felt, and which I've come to recognize originates from neurotypical social expectations and a lack of understanding.

If this is something you've dealt with and have been shamed for, I hope this post can give you some comfort. It isn't a failing, isn't deviant, isn't indulgent. It just is, and you aren't bad or broken or weak because of it.

skumps!

another silly song idea this time with lilia mixing in too much alcohol to some food he had the mc try, so they then sing and share some silliness in the song. enjoy!

no one knew how the mc did it. How they willingly went over to the Diasomnia dorm a Friday night to taste test Lilia's cooking. When asked about this concerning behavior they simply replied with, “it’s always an adventure to try his food, and I’m also trying to fix his misconceptions on what food actually go together. As much as I may suffer, I believe I can fix him.” The other students just shook their heads and pitied the poor magicless human. They entered the near-empty dorm and were treated with an interesting smell, somewhat homey yet had a sour fruity smell mixed with sharp spices and a soup like sent from the kitchen. The Fae happily hummed as he poured his newest creation into 2 bowls for him and his friend. He knew his cooking wasn't the best as he many grimaces when he is in the kitchen, he appreciated how much the magicless human puts up with him, and that's why he made sure this batch of souper soup had the best ingredients he could smuggle onto campus.

He hovered into the dining room carrying the two bowls of viscus and brown broth with questionable chunks floating in the pale liquid. The Mc grimaces at seeing the strange meaty lumps in the soup as Lilia beamed at them. He quickly floated to his seat and started to dig in, humming at the warmth that pooled a bit unnaturally in his core. The MC swallowed thickly before grabbing the bowl and just downing it, thinking it best to get it all over with rather than suffer with the flavor and textures.

They gagged as the overly strong taste of meat and fermented fruit washed over her tongue as the last of the "soup" went down her throat, burning as it went. "Guh... that doesn't feel right..." The prefect commented.

Lilia chuckles. "that was probably the Zinfandel I used for half the broth."

"what's Zinfandel?" They ask confused and a bit worried as the heat in their core grew stronger.

"My favorite strong wine helped make it a few centuries ago too," he said rubbing his belly as he finished the last of his bowl.

The prefect looked sick, being a bit underage for such a strong alcohol, they had never even had any before this. The warmth continued to spread and their mind grew a bit hazy as a pleasantly numb feeling overcame their senses.

"oh, dear. I forgot you humans aren't supposed to have alcohol until you're 21... Are you alright?" he asked hovering close to the mc and pulling out his phone as their eyes closed.

The prefect's eyes suddenly opened wide and unfocused as they looked through Lilia. giggling out a word they made up and pulling an ancient-looking bottle of pink liquid from their bag. "Hehe! I have this 'usic potion. nad I wanna sing!" they slurred before pouring some of the liquid onto their hands and then grabbing Lilias as they swayed on their feet to get up from their chair. Lilia giggled at how adorable this human was, letting a few thoughts of how keeping them over the summer break would be nice. suddenly they heard a small merry tune, and the mc started off the song they didn't know that they knew.

MC: Skumps! Skumps! Lilia: Skumps!

They both giggled as they grabbed their two glasses of water. MC: A toast to this night! Lilia: The outlook is rosy,

He sang pinching their flushed cheeks. MC: But the future is bright!

Both: our world will be marry, Our kingdoms unite, Skumps! Skumps! Skumps!

The music and the potion suddenly stoped as both of the students stumbled into each other. The Mc laughed and laughed as Lilia giggled. After a good half-an-hour, the Mc was fast asleep on the floor as Lilia lazily floated in the air.

Once he snapped out of his hazy state he chuckled and picked up the prefect with surprising ease given his short stature. "Come Mc, ill help you get to bed, I'm sorry for the headache you might get though," he mumbled as he grabbed a painkiller potion and started to head to the mirror chamber. He'll have to share the interesting story with mc later, good thing he had his camera going once he realized what was likely to happen, such an interesting and fun human. He hoped to do something like that again when they were of proper age.

>>>>>>

It was movie night at ramshackle and malleus and Lillia were happily seated on the creaking old couch in the lounge as the Mc set up a projector.

"Oh! before we start the movies is it alright if I share a video I have?" Lilia asked already hovering over the projector cord.

"sure as long as it its too long or anything." The mc said still getting the streaming service on their computer running.

"Hehe! I have this 'usic potion. nad I wanna sing!" the sound of giggling and then the video opens to both Lilia and the prefect dancing in a drunken manner and singing a silly song that seemingly only the ones in the video could hear. The mc watched the video in horror at their own actions, malleus and Lilia were chuckling fondly at how their friend acted.

once the video was over the mc turned to Lilia somewhat upset. "Was that why my head hurt after I visited? I though I passed out or something, I don't remember any of that!" They pouted.

"it is alright child of man. I find this state of yours rather adorable." malleus chuckled.

Their face flushed as they grumbled about how unfair it was that they had blackmail of them being a fool. They quickly set up the movie and snuggled between the two faes. They made sure to make the mental note: make sure Lilia doesn't add alcohol to the food next time.

Hello, goodafternoon everyone, im here once again to publish another one of my pieces of writting. Im sorry for the lack of recent interaction, i had a criativity block and couldnt do anything new, but now ive come with a new piece, and quiet a different one if you put it aside with my other texts. Anyways, ill leave a song for you to enjoy while you read it. Also, i may make a POV of the other characters in this specific piece, also as always, im open for critics that could make me better in my writting, and i hope yall have a nice day.

The Discovery.

"I'm sitting on the branches of a tree, one already leafless due to winter, which is close to a cozy house, I have nowhere to go and nothing better to do, so I just stay there, sitting, watching the house . I stay here from 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm, until I realize that no one else is awake, I find this peculiar, as I'm not used to sleeping so early, but I don't think much about it, and just relax for now. Im bathed by a beautiful light as the moon and stars answer my staring, those that were my only company that night, and I ask myself why all this, whats the reason of this lack of opportunities, this headache and mainly, this lack of a person to be with me. These questions and others haunt my head, I don't understand the reason for all this, and I'm afraid the answer will make me even worse, although I think that's okay, after all, nothing makes sense, and nobody knows that I'm alone anyways, apart from the presence of the moon. I feel a slight butterflies in my stomach, followed by a lump in my throat after thinking for too long, so I decide to try to get closer, I climb down from the tree with some ease, then I approach the door and gently try to open it, failing, as I was locked. Soon after, I walk around the house looking for somewhere I could get in, and I find an open window that I assumed was a bathroom, so I climbed the house to get in there. I used my arms to reach the window, strangely those houses around seemed like quiet small, then after a few seconds of climbing, I was inside, and I gently opened the door so as not to wake anyone, then i went to the kitchen to try to find something to eat after all these days without eating, after that i heard glass breaking, and I look back. I see a terrified man, shaking and with his mouth open, the glass that broke was a glass of water, and as i saw the person's fear I triednto talk "Hello" I said, and that just made the man scared even more, and scream running upstairs, which made me look at myself. Long arms and fingers, gray skin, erratically shaped legs, and extremely long nails, then I realized why everyone avoided me, why I had no one why they turned off the lights and went to bed so early, those houses arent small, my arms are simply too big, this is why people are afraid of me,this is why they try to run away, i spent my whole life deceiving myself, but in the end there was no doubt, I am a monster."

Why i choose that music?: i thought that the kinda sad type of music would make sense for this text, plus, the protagonist of the history is a monster, and i guess that ghosts are as well, i dont know if it counts but oh well. Anyways hope yall think its a good option and that it matched. Once again, thanks for your time, and have a nice day.

It wasn't a bass in Gundham's hands this time, but a guitar, a simple acoustic that was a bit worn about the edges, the only thing new on it being the strings the bassist's fingers glided over with ease. With how beat up it was, perhaps it was clear that it had been his start, the instrument seeing many years of wear beyond what he had to his life.

He seemed distant as he plucked at the strings, a tune at first, random notes needing a melody before they seemed to piece together into something more coherent. His voice was soon to follow, a deep timber that was hardly more than a whisper at first as he sang, the bassist not even fully aware he was doing it as his voice echoed about the vacant music room.

"Her eyes and words are so icy  Oh but she burns Like rum on the fire Hot and fast and angry as she can be I walk my days on a wire

It looks ugly, but it's clean Oh momma, don't fuss over me

The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine Open hand or closed fist would be fine The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine"

The song isn't his, that much is easy to tell, but the feelings behind it are, his voice thick with the ever rare showing of which so very few got to see.

"Her fight and fury is fiery Oh but she loves Like sleep to the freezing Sweet and right and merciful I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing

And it's worth it, it's divine I have this some of the time

The way she shows me I'm hers and she is mine Open hand or closed fist would be fine The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine"

He doesn't notice Kazuichi is there until the last note fades, and even then he doesn't look his way, eyes darting to the man at the edges of his vision before Gundham once again stared off into the distance. "...It is rude to stare."

-  ✩   「   @from-across-the-stars​   」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   Kazuichi hadn’t meant to come here. He’d been heading down the hall with no particular plans in mind, strange as that may be for the usually-busy fashionista. Hoping to find a purpose along the way. But today was a rare treat. With no meetings, no photo shoots, no interviews, nothing and no one demanding his time or attention or body— He could simply BE for a moment. Odd as it feels, not knowing what to occupy his time with aside from sketching more ideas. Endless possibilities at his fingertips. Kazuichi belonging to no one but himself. But it feels cheap to do the same thing he always does on a day like today.

❛  I haven’t seen Gundham in a while— ❜  Musing had come out of nowhere, Kazuichi skidding to a halt as if physically struck by it. Bristled in the middle of the empty hallway, all the designer could do was blink for a moment. Trying to wrap his mind around WHY that had occurred to him, let alone as something to be remedied. Spending time with Gundham was— is a necessary evil. At least, it started out that way. A stunt meant to improve their images and bring some peace to their lives. Never mind the headaches it causes for Kazuichi along the way. Yet now, with his schedule wide open, the bassist weaseled his way into Kaz’s mind.

Typical. Even when he’s NOT around, Gundham was still causing issues.

It was that thought, that one moment of weakness, that led to this... Kazuichi lingering in the doorway of the music room, breath stalled as the music that had called him was joined by a low, soothing voice. Full of an emotion Kazuichi can hardly believe is coming from Gundham. Yet there’s no mistaking it, Kazuichi inching himself closer, hesitant to leave the safety of the door he’s partially hiding behind yet needing to be closer to the song. To the man singing it. Swallowing thickly, a shiver crawls down his spine, Kaz reminded of how he feels whenever he hears Gundham play the bass.

Despite the others skill, there’s a blatant difference between now and when THAT instrument is in his hands. No matter how good Gundham is, it’s impossible not to note when it’s being compared to what is literally known as the best playing of a bass there is. Yet, even though Kaz knows the level isn’t the same, the hold over him is… eerily similar. A blanket of awe draped upon him, rooting him in place, stealing his breath, his thoughts. Transfixed by more than the instrument, than even the voice- but by Gundham… How he looks when he plays. How he plays itself, no matter what it is.

Kazuichi isn’t allowed any time to ponder this, something that the fashionista is grateful for. It’s a realization best left unexplored. For his own sake. Stiffening when he’s called out by Gundham, his own gaze flits back to the hallway for a split-second, considering turning on his heel and hurrying away. Unfortunately loneliness stubborn pride wins over common sense, Kaz sucking in a discreet breath before forcing himself into the room. Clearing his throat into a closed fist, he dismissively replies with a shrug, ❝ Yeah? Well, I’m a rude person… ❞

Air feeling as suffocating as quicksand, Kaz struggles to put one foot in front of the other. Steps uncertain even in his attempt to seem casual, gaze wanders around the empty room in what he prays isn’t obviously an attempt to keep from looking at Gundham. Not that the bassist seems to be paying him any mind, the others expression looking a million miles away. Chest tight with more worry than he wishes he had, Kaz opens his mouth before shutting it with a grimace. Rubbing the back of his neck, he shuffles a bit closer, gaze flitting to Gundham before lowering to the floor. A beat passes, Kaz fidgeting in place with increasing impatience at his own ineptitude before he sucks in a breath—

❝ So… You’re really good at that. ❞ Kazuichi clumsily begins, weakly motioning at the guitar. Deciding against mentioning the singing, his face growing hot at the mere memory of it, Kaz sits down beside Gundham. Making sure to leave ample space between them, leg lightly bounces with bubbling nervous energy, ❝ It looks pretty old. I-In a well-used kinda way… ❞ Latter statement is hastily added, Kaz not wanting his comment to seem like it was meant as an insult. Finally looking at Gundham, there doesn’t seem to be any animosity within the fashionista, none of Kaz’s carefully-maintained defenses up.

Instead, there’s sincere curiosity… and an uncharacteristic decision to follow where it may lead. Even if his anxiety is pleading otherwise. Kaz’s voice is quieter than intended, an inner voice screaming that he’s intruding on a moment he has no right to, ❝ I’m guessin’ that guitar is what you started out on? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

hello!! may I request for hcs for when you get into an argument with the genshin boys (you can choose who!!) and the guys end up saying something hurtful, and your reaction is like "well, if that's what you think, then maybe we shouldn't be together." and walks away (tryna hide a tear,,)?? I'm sorry if this is too specific aah I'm just in the mood for angst ( •́ ‿ ,•̀ ) I really like your characterization!! <333

— 🧧 THEIR S/O BREAKS UP WITH THEM AFTER A RUDE COMMENT THEY MADE

includes — kazuha, tohma, diluc

warnings — angst, pre tohma release

pronouns — they/them

note — in honour of the 2.0 announcement trailer, i included the newest boy to my writing list (tohma by beloved) - i’ve also added baal (or raiden), ayaka, and yoimiya!

KAZUHA

kazuha wasn’t usually confrontational off of the battle field — opting for more serene and peaceful things while resting and spending his time with you

but sometimes when emotions boil over, we say things that we don’t mean, nor wish to say at all — it’s in the heat of the moment type of thing, which is exactly what was happening to kazuha in the present time

“you don’t get it- you never will,” kazuha paced away from you, wanting to put an end to the conversation station as soon as he could.

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you took strides to catch up with the upset male, desperate to understand his reasoning. “why don’t you face me, and tell me why the hell you won’t let me help-“ the moment your hand made contact with his arm, he turned in fury — something you had never seen him in ever.

“you’re too clumsy, too reckless, and simply not able to withstand that type of battles that would occur!” kazuha’s face was mere inches from your own. “you’re just not enough.”

you weren’t enough.

he was talking about physical ability, but... why did it feel as if he was talking about everything — the way you dressed, the way you acted, the person you are.

he didn’t think you were enough.

“... if- if you think so lowly of me, then i don’t think this is going to work,” your feet slowly brought your body away from the now shocked and calming male, trying to put as much distance as you could between the two of you.

“y/n-“ he reached out for your arm, only to pull back as if he had been shocked as you flinched away from it. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“well that’s what it sounded like kazuha.”

you never called him kazuha — it was always kaz, or some other nickname — but never kazuha.

“i’ll leave you to your business, and i’ll board with beidou in the morning,” the distance grew greater, and hearts cracked piece by piece. “i hope you find someone who’s enough on your travels.”

kazuha’s heart left with you — the emptiness in his chest product of his own doings, his own words.

it seemed that he was the one not enough for you.

TOHMA

tohma didn’t like to fight, argue, or even cause any sort of pain to you — and in the past if he ever did, it was not by his choice, or it was a complete accident

yet here he found himself, spouting words he didn’t mean, watching the look of anger on your face crumble into hurt and betrayal

tohma was tired — beyond even — with the job that he possessed, and the dedication to match, nights were often spent resting and resetting for the next.

“y/n i really don’t have time for this right now, you know this,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to rid himself of both the anger and headache that clawed at his mind.

“i think you have plenty of time right now — all i’m asking is for you to consider my idea,” you stepped closer to the blonde, brings your hands up to run through his hair in order to help calm him down. “i just want to see you a little more often, even if it’s only a day a week — just more then i see you now-“

his head was yanked away from your hands, and his eyes burned into you like the vision that hung on his hip. “for the last time! i have my duties with the kamisato clan, and they need my dedication and focus — i don’t have time to waste.”

his words didn’t fully click in his head, until he saw your eyes widen in both shock and hurt — and all he could do was watch as your body slowly backed away and shrank into itself, becoming smaller and smaller by the second.

you tried to appear bigger in mere moments after the metaphorical slap to the face — your chin being held high, eyes narrowed, and drawn in tight.

“don’t bother coming home tomorrow, or the nextday, or even the next,” he could see the hurt as you tried to keep your composer. “wouldn’t want you wasting time, now would we?”

“y/n-“

“leave tohma — you have your duties, remember?”

it happened too fast for tohma to handle — one minute you were happily chatting, next the argument broke out, and the next, he had broken the one promise he had made to himself and you.

he had hurt you, one too many times.

DILUC

he was a calm and collected man, trying many other options before it truly came down to a fight — he poked and prodded most times during arguments, but never before had he pointed out things he knew would hurt

maybe that’s why he wasn’t only in shock as he watch the anger turn into sadness and thought, but also at the words that seemed to flow out of his mouth like a river

“dee, please take a break,” your hands worked on his shoulders — thumbs pushing on the knots and sore spots in the muscles, trying anything you could to get the red haired man to relax.

“y/n please — i’ll come to bed in a few more minutes, i just have to finish this-“ the quill was plucked out of his hands before you could finish — now dangling between your own fingertips.

“you said that the yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that — i know you dee — like that back of my hand,” you waved the back of your hand in an example, the smile on your face doing nothing to ease the furrow in his brow.

he was committed to finishing paperwork and documents — and if that meant forgoing a few nights of actual rest and calmness, then so be it.

but you were making that difficult.

“give me that,” diluc harshly grabbed the quill from your hand, not caring or registering if he had hurt you in the process.

he turned back to his work as soon as it was in his hand, but the moment didn’t last long.

“diluc-“ your hand reached down for the quill again, but were quickly shoved back as he stood from the chair.

“would you just give me some space!” his eyes and cheeks gleamed red, similar to the colour of his hair. “i can’t get any actual work done when your clinging to me like an animal in heat!” in the moment, diluc didn’t care if he had hurt you, and that was one of his many mistakes in that moment.

the quietness was tense and uncomfortable — dilucs heavy breathing, and the sound of soft fidgeting being the only things that could be heard.

“i’ll leave you be then,” you turned in that moment, the tears running freshly down your face the second your back was to the man.

diluc didn’t panic at first.

he had hurt you, yes — but you would let him cool down, calm, and finish was he was doing. that was all.

but the empty room that was once occupied by two and the quick feet that turned and walked in the other direction every time he was near — was enough to tell him the truth.

you left him to be on his own.

for good.

With a roll of the ice

pairing: Wheein x f!reader

c & ws: smut; ice play; sensory deprivation; mentions of alcohol; a lil swearing.

wc: 2k~

requested by anon

Round ice cube molds. You could have just gone for a regular plastic ice tray, the cheaper option at the store. But if it can serve a sexual purpose, why not? The process of moving to a new place with your girlfriend had you overanalyzing the simplest home utensils you needed. It was good to have that kind of freedom to choose.

Wheein just had the simpler intentions for it, though. One night, you came home to find her drinking alone at the still empty living room, lights all turned off. The lighted up fireplace was the sole reason you could see her, sitting with legs crossed and a glass in hand. A bunch of bottles, a second glass and her sketchbook, as well as her drawing materials, were all scattered around the floor.

"Whee, what are you doing...?" you asked while taking your shoes off. "I thought your group photoshoot was tomorrow," you worried about her drinking; better to not have to deal with a headache on the next day.

"I'm just having some coke. The alcohol is for you," she explained. "Can you get the ice for us?"

Not wanting to ruin the mood she set up, you used your phone flashlight to walk to the kitchen. There, you grabbed an ice bucket and emptied the silicone trays inside, shaking it a little to prevent the round cubes from sticking together.

"I would have picked it up before, but I didn't want it to melt before you arrived," Wheein said when you came back and placed the bucket on the floor.

"It's okay, babe," you assured, kissing her cheek tenderly after sitting by the fireplace with her. "Anxious because of work?"

She let out a sigh. You knew her really well.

"Getting better already, actually. It's good to have you here." Wheein smiled at you, stroking your knee with her hand. "I just needed to relax a little. Tomorrow is going to be a full day."

You nodded, reaching for a glass and the bottle of flavored vodka. Being so close to the fireplace, you reconsidered the idea of picking a drink that would burn you up even more. The current warmth was nice and it felt cozy, but it could be too much if you added more heat to it.

"Settling for the coke too? What a saint you've become," Wheein teased. A soft drink could be nice too, you thought, leaving your now full glass on the floor to look at her. She held a round ice cube between her thumb and index finger, rolling it slightly by moving both fingers in opposite directions. Well, now that brought you some thoughts back.

"This kind of... feels good," Wheein said, puppy-like eyes entertained with the water now dripping from her thumb, "it doesn't get sticky when it melts a little. And it rolls."

Right. It rolls. You pictured something like that, back at the store, wondering if it really would have this effect against her skin. Not simply dragging the ice across, but rolling it, gave a different perspective to everything. You bit your lip in excitement, now knowing your fantasy was real.

And well, why not feel this for yourself? One hand went to the bucket, but you needed both to get the ice out — it got stuck together. You appreciated the round shape inside of your mouth, rolling it around with your tongue, feeling your warmth slowly melting it. You sucked on the ice a little bit, stopping when Wheein's eyes met yours.

"You look really sexy doing this," she remarked. A side smirk allowed one of her dimples to show up, which turned into a laugh after you touched your own cheek, feeling the small ball formed by the ice. "So pretty."

You admired Wheein for a moment. Weak shadows danced around her figure, following the movement of the flames; hair recently dyed red held up in a neat bun, leaving her neck fully exposed. Around it she wore a bandeau, neatly positioned so that it didn't cover her Caddo tattoo. You found that detail particularly inviting, and added to the fact that she clearly wasn't wearing a bra...

"Why don't you try this too?" you suggested. The ice had melted already, but the cold sensation it left in your mouth, somehow, had you feeling hotter between your legs. "You'll find the temperature contrast sexier than me."

Wheein's gaze went down to your mouth, filled with desire for your humid lips.

"Can I try it from your source?"

"Please do."

Wheein really did move first. The coolness of your mouth warmed up in hers, as she simply stole that from you by chasing the kiss with all her greed. You felt like the flames from the fireplace itself had engulfed you when her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you to the floor with her. Although when your lips parted, she was the one craving to cool it down.

"Oh my," she was able to say while gasping for air. Holding you by the back of your neck with both hands, she placed a few more quick presses against your lips before speaking again, "Hmmmm. I liked that it was... unexpected. Your mouth felt so soft from the cold."

You smiled when her fingers delicately caressed your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Wheein had her eyes on something else while doing it, though. Still holding your weight over her body with your elbows, you looked over your shoulder to discover that she eyed the ice bucket.

"Wanna try that again? With more than a kiss?" you asked, full of a smug satisfaction because the question wasn't even necessary — Wheein's pleading face spoke for itself.

_____

"Love, you really trust me a lot for this, huh," you said while tying the bandeau to the back of her head to use it as a blindfold. Depriving her from the sense of sight was part of your original fantasy, a way to allow her to have a better focus on the hot and cold feeling.

Wheein sat between your spread legs, backing herself into your lap after you moved closer to the fireplace. The orange light of the fire was now able to fully glow on her naked body. The air felt thick and hot when you breathed in, and a little sweat started building up on your back.

"I trust you more than I probably should," she whispered, leaning on your shoulder to place a few kisses along your jawline, "but you always repay it well."

"Right," you agreed, gently undoing Wheein's bun and letting the hair fall on her shoulders, making contact with your bare chest. One hand gave it a gentle tug, while you stretched the other arm to reach for the ice bucket, taking a round ice out. It quickly started wetting your palm, being just perfect for what you wanted to do. You got her hair out of the way with a harsh pull, pressing the ice against her neck. "I always make you feel so good."

Wheein's first reaction was to recoil at the sudden cold feeling, gasping loudly, but you held the ice in place with a strong grip on her neck.

"Shhhh, Wheeinie," you whispered on her ear as her gasping slowly turned into moaning, pleased with you using your palm to roll the ice against her skin, "this is just a massage. We haven't even started yet."

When it melted into a piece too small to be rolled, you simply dragged it across her chest, stopping at an already hardened nipple. The sensation of her skin under your cooled fingers felt softer than usual, the increased sensitivity having you muttering a curse against the back of her neck. Your other hand fetched for more round ice while you still held her boob, squeezing her nipple. Water dripped from your fingers and rolled down her stomach.

"More. Please," Wheein begged impatiently. Her hands were on your thighs, which were reddening from her burying her nails on them every time you did something right. You hoped to see a mark there by the end of the night.

"If you keep hurrying me up, I won't be gentle," you warned, shoving the ice against the boob you had neglected before and holding it strongly. Wheein's scream at the sudden shock ended up in a loud cry, her back arching at you circling the cube around her nipple. "Is that what you want, huh?"

"Uh-huh," she was able to shout out in agreement between her delicious moans, head now dropped backwards onto your shoulder. You moved your body to the side so you could whisper directly at her ear.

"What a slut you are."

Wheein lustfully mumbled a few yes yes yes I am when you stressed that word, like she had done many times before. She gasped in surprise when you stopped rolling the ice on her nipple, and gasped even harder when you took that same nipple in your mouth. Sucking the cold out of it. What was left of that cube you used to roll down her body, leaving behind a trail of water and stopping just before her pussy.

"Did you make a mess on the floor, Wheein...?" you asked.

You had inclined your head forward to look at the space between her legs. With all the action, Wheein had her knees up and under her chin, throbbing cunt fully exposed to the hot air. She was dripping on the floor, so much was the arousal.

"Hmmmmm, no. There's a lot of ice melting here," she lied. You smirked while thinking of how you would punish Wheein for that, one hand drowned in the bucket and getting really cold. The round cubes were now slowly turning into water altogether, coming out already humid — which meant that you didn't need to wait before using it on her.

"I would've been way nicer to you, Whee," you said, "but you don't deserve it."

Ring and middle finger squeezed her labia on each side, making the hole wider for the ice. Her reaction to the intimate contact with the cold immediately showed that she wanted you to put it in, her nails definitely leaving your thigh scratched this time. Instead, you simply stimulated her entrance, rolling and rubbing the round ice against it, even letting just a tip in. Wheein moaned sweetly, whispering your name, almost begging you to fuck her.

You took the ice into your mouth before it fully melted, wanting to taste her liquid even if the water was mixed in. Wheein grunted in annoyance from that, but there wasn't time to take her protests further — the same fingers which squeezed her open before now slid with ease inside of her, producing sweet wet sounds with each pump in. Part of you wanted to grab more ice, to roll it on her skin, to do anything, but you couldn't do much when her moans and then screams of pleasure filled your ears. Your hand was soaked with her climax in almost no time.

"Mmmmhm... Can't believe you didn't..."

You laughed when her words kept trailing off — Wheein was absolutely spent. She tiredly dropped into your arms after her orgasm, trying but failing to sound her complaints. Now any warmth was welcome, yours or from the fireplace, her hands pressing yours against her body to hug her tighter.

"What? You really wanna complain when I left you in this state?" you scoffed while gently removing the bandeau she wore as a blindfold.

Wheein sat up to face you, narrowing her eyes and pouting her mouth. She trembled a bit, still lacking the necessary balance, but kept her posture.

"I... I... Fuck." She gulped and shook her head, recollecting herself. "I just wanted you to roll the ice inside of me!"

ao3 link

Little Witch - Part 20

The Darkling x Reader

He carried you to your bed that night, gently slipping off your kefta and taking out the uncomfortable hairpin in your hair while you slept like a baby.

Zoya had barged into his office earlier and mentioned that you were swarmed with duties so naturally he did was had to be done and took it all on himself for that day. Your door felt no vibrations from knocks after Zoya left and the 'accidental dozing off' turned into your full night sleep with Aleksander by your side yet again.

You were furious as you woke up, to say the least. Your enraged muttering breaking Aleksander's sleep as you whipped out from under his arm and out the bed. You only dared to shoot him a look of displeasure before you slammed the door shut as you left. He barely registered your body running around the room, nevermind the nasty gaze sent his way

'Good morning to you too'

****

'Is everything in order?' You were still fixing the kefta belt as you approached the head of guards.

'Yes Deputy. We've been letting performers in for about an hour now and it's all going smoothly.'

'No requests to see the Sun-Summoner?'

'Plenty, but we've taken care of them just as Zoya Nazyalensky told us to.' He curtly nodded, tilting his head in the way of the prison-holding cells.

'I'm glad to hear that.'

As you went to see how Marie's kefta was coming along, you found the room empty and her nowhere to be found, the seamstress looking equally as confused as she entered the bare room. You caught Genya heading for the Vezda suit out of the corner of your eye and called her name loudly.

'Marie is late to her kefta fitting, like very late. Do you have any idea where she is?'

'I think she may be with Alina, I'll be sure to fetch her' she said and waltzed away from you.

'Genya wait!'

'Yes?'

'When you get Ms.Starkov ready, give her this ring' You dug around in your pocket for the metal ring and handed it to the red-haired Tailor. 'Make sure she's wearing it.'

'Of course Deputy.'

You watched her white kefta diminish behind the doors and sighed loudly, going down the mental to-do list of the morning. I'm already tired.

*****

'Have you seen the Deputy?' Aleksander asked Ivan as they headed for his chambers.

'Last I seen she was helping conduct perimeter checks with Fedyor.'

'Good.' He wanted to see you in your winter fete kefta, silently hoping you chose to keep with the black but he knew he was being greedy. He can't have both you and Alina.

'Get her for me, I need to speak to her.' Ivan nodded and turned back around in search of you, clearly displeased at the task.

Putting his lust for you away, Aleksander returned to a working state of mind. He needed to speak to you before the fete started. It was essential you heard what he had heard from the Grand Palace.

He retreated to his chambers and began to get ready for the fete until a certain someone entered the room unannounced.

***

'Deputy Y/L/N, the General wishes to speak to you.' Ivan was at your door with a glum look on his face as a team of ladies tended to your hair and face.

'Now?' You laughed but he only shrugged. You rolled your eyes and signaled for them to finish what they were doing and let you leave.

The ladies frowned but stepped away, clearly dissatisfied. Not only did they get a late start due to you chasing Alina and Genya down on the Palace courtyard, but now they had to finish early too. You had yet to change out of your kefta and into the fete's outfit but for now, you ignored your appearance.

All that mattered to you was that the evening went smoothly and without security threats and if the General requested to see you, you would be there to discuss whatever had gone wrong. This is Ravka after all, something always goes wrong.

'I'm coming, relax your frown for once.' You joined him at the door and walked silently alongside him to the Darkling's quarters. The Palace was buzzing with life as foreign ambassadors took up residence in the rooms and servants prepared the spaces with brimming luxury. Ravka needed to display its strength and wealth today and if it meant meticulously counting the fresh roses in each room, that was what was had to be done.

Although your demeanor showed a relaxed and posed facade, you were very stressed. You hadn’t gotten enough sleep recently and given your extreme training schedule before you arrived at the Palace, the amount of time you spent using them now, or lack thereof, had managed to dwindle you mentally. You were hanging on by a mere thread.

Ivan knocked on the door for you before moving away to the side. You didn't wait for his response and just walked in but stopped short when you looked ahead. The Sun-Summoner you had scolded not even 30 minutes ago was standing in his quarters, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He stood next to her looking equally as red-handed. Realization flooded you that you had interrupted an intimate moment between the two summoners. You cleared your throat, trying your best to act normal.

'You requested to see me, General.' His head tipped up at your collected demeanor, wondering whether you felt the tension too.

'Yes, I did' He moved around to the table, walking past Alina who decided it would be best she left and got ready. You smiled at her as she left, muttering some pleasantry about seeing her at the fete but deep inside the jealousy began boiling in you despite your attempts to rationalize it.

'Y/N -'

'Let's not talk about it. Please.' Your voice was a whisper, a strong contrast to the voice Alina heard. 'I agreed to the plan, I have no right to argue with you.' You feebly smiled. His stare was pitiful on you but he did as you asked.

'I need you to speak to the Queen when she arrives at the Little Palace.'

'Why?' Your face contorted into an expression of confusion and disgust, quickly forgetting about what just happened.

'My intel tells me she is in awe of you. Genya overheard her speaking to one of her aids about you and a possible position for you in the Grand Palace'

Your eyes widened at his words. You had been tolerating the Queen like a toddler, giving into her whims and tantrums in hopes of her staying calm, not in hopes of being whisked away to work for the crown.

'Are you serious?'

'Yes'

'Saints' The weird headache was back, settling into the back of your head like a dull drum.

'Listen to what she has to say'

'Do you think I would accept whatever she has to offer? You'd be a fool to assume I would even consider it.' He turned away from you, displeasure obvious on his face.

'I just ask that you entertain her. And would it really be so bad? Whatever it may be, it would aid our course substantially-'

'All I ever wanted and needed were my Grisha, Aleksander. That's why I came back, not for the Lantsov Crown.'

'I'm not forcing you into anything Y/N. Just listen to her.' His voice was soft and gentle like he was lulling you down from an outburst but you knew he was plotting, taking every advantage he could grasp.

'Alright.' you sighed, still processing all the information at once. The Queen, The Fete, The Grand Palace, Alina, and Aleksander. It was clouding your mind like a fog. 'I should go get ready' Your mind was bursting at the seams with thoughts and speculations, you needed to have some alone time and you prayed to the Saints 20 minutes would be enough to put yourself at ease.

He reached out for you but you were already moving to leave, leaving him hanging in his chambers with a look of sorrow on his face.

Your feet dragged you to your chambers with little energy but much heaviness. The Summoner blue gown and kefta hanging on the door were glued to your gaze as you debated even going to the fete.

Within a span of 10 minutes, Aleksander had somehow managed to overwhelm you to the point of a lingering breakdown. You weren't sad or angry or jealous, you were overwhelmed, your mind was blank yet full and it made you want to cry. The stress of the last couple of days did not help either.

But alas you got yourself together, wiping the lone tears away and putting on your fete attire. It was heavy and comforting, like an armor ready to be destroyed as you entered the battlefield. The foreign diplomats were to meet you today and bring word back to their home countries about the Witch, the Deputy Commander of Ravka's Grisha Army and you would look the part too.

You held your head high and radiated the most powerful energy you could muster while you walked to the makeshift throne room before the official start of the fete. She was sitting there next to the King looking every part of a Lantsov Queen.

The crown settled on her head nicely and looked to be of perfect fit as you approached her, curtseying and making pleasant conversation. It was draining to listen to her empty stories in anticipation of what you knew was coming. In a shocking reality however, you had no idea what she was really thinking and neither did Aleksander, or Genya, or anybody.

It wasn't until she grabbed your wrist tight in her hold and made you kneel next to her in the empty room did you freeze and crumble beneath her. The King was watching eagerly with his head held high and a smirk on his face. In that moment all you were was their subject and she was the Queen, commanding a commander. You were no General, or Grisha, or high ranking officer. You were simply a girl who held their eyes for too long. A girl who was not simple but regal.

It was nothing short of debilitating. The facade crumbling and crashing to the ground with silent thuds while the words stuck in your head like a pulsing bee sting.

'We wish for you to marry my son, my dear Nikolai'

--------

Part 21

Shockerrrrr I know but don’t worry for those who haven’t read the novels, I will not be introducing Nikolai as a character. Maybe I will when I decide to move this to AO3 but not as of right now.

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy

Hi I'm soft, can I please have a fix of Aizawa's S/O taking care of him after the USJ attack?

soft is the mood!

“Shouta, pick your head up.”  “it’s up-”  “No, it’s not, look straight ahead.” A pause as he shifts, then you huff, “thank you.” You comb careful fingers through his tangled hair. Normally you’d really be on his case about letting it get like this, but given the current circumstance..you supposed you couldn’t hold this against him, he was in practically a full-body cast, after all. You spray some more detangler into it.  “How do you feel?” You ask quietly, running a comb through the newly wet strands.  “The same.” His voice is indifferent, if he was in pain he wasn’t gonna tell you. You just hope he’s not lying.  “Not better or worse?”  “Just the same.” He nods again and you hum pulling all his hair back off his forehead and temples, away from his ears.  “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault.” He deflects you.  “I know. But I’m sorry you’re in pain.” You retort and he mutters something before saying louder,  “I’m not in pain. The medicine is fine. And recovery girl is doing her thing. I should be alright in no time.”  “Shouta. It doesn’t matter how you’re going to feel it matters how you feel now.” He can’t see you from his seat between your legs, but he can tell your frowning from the hardness in your voice. And you’re right.  “Yeah. It’s alright. Sorry I know I shouldn’t do that. It’s not that bad really. I get a headache sometimes, but for the most part the medicine works. ”  “It’s okay.” You kiss the back of his head and he slumps a little bit forward, you can tell he’s done talking about it. “Do you have the elastic?” He nods at it where it rests on the bedsheets by his leg. He can’t help but feel a little useless right now. He can’t do anything, not a single thing. He needed you or Hizashi for everything, he couldn’t even bend his fingers.  “Shouta Aizawa I am not going to tell you to pick your head up again.” You say it meaning to sound stern, but there’s a little laugh underneath it that makes him grin under all the bandages. In all fairness he appreciates your usual prodding, if you handled him like glass he’d honestly simply feel worse. “It just feels good.” He picks his head up again anyways, he couldn’t help it, you were effectively putting him to sleep, your fingers carefully slowly pulling through his hair, wrapping the strands around each other.  You just hum at him affectionately, pulling him back lightly by his hair to kiss the crown of his head again, “push that elastic over here.”  He does his best, it’s probably not as close as you wanted or much at all to really be helpful but you reach it anyways. “Thank you.” He just hums back at you.  “How is it?” You pull away after wrapping the tail of the braid in an elastic a few times, “not too tight?” Aizawa shakes his head as much as he can.  “It feels better this way, thank you.”  “It won’t get too tangled now either.” You hum, leaning back into his pillows and letting him follow, resting his tired frame against your chest.  “Are you exhausted?” You hum and he nods, he’s always tired sure but he can stay up usually...but right now...just sitting up for a few minutes while you cleaned him up was enough to put him out of commission, he’d only gotten up for the day a few hours ago and he already wanted to call it a night, it was hardly even noon. “Why don’t we take a little nap? I’m tired too honestly.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders gently, “and then when you wake up we can take off some of the bandages, recovery girl said she’d stop by as soon as she could this afternoon so we can leave them off for a little bit until she gets here, let everything breathe?”  “That sounds good.” It feels stupid to be so upset. he wasn’t mean to get like this, he was rational, level headed, but all he wanted to do right now was cover your arms where they rounded his shoulders, he wanted to hold you back.  “You know for, a guy who isn’t allowed to shower you still smell pretty nice.” He feels you press a long kiss to the skin behind his ear, one of the only places exposed. “Take a deep breath Sho.” You lean into him, “it’s alright.”  He falls asleep with relative ease after that. When he wakes up again you aren’t behind him anymore. A first aid kit is on his nightstand, and he can hear you pattering around. It takes about 5 minutes for you to find your way back in there.  “Oh! You’re awake!” You sit beside him, “recovery girl came while you were asleep. Feeling any better? You could have called when you woke up.”  He did, a little, and he felt worlds less swollen, though the looseness of the casts on his arms should indicate that to be a reality rather than just a feeling.  “I was gonna, I just woke up so it’s fine.” He shuffles a little bit and you nod. “You really did yourself no favors going back to teach so early.” You scold him, sitting before him in his bed.  “I had to.”  “No, you just let Hizashi talk you into every hair-brained scheme he comes up with.” You beacon for him to sit up, “you need to be more careful. I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me...” You start removing the casts on his arms, “but you seriously had me worried.”  You’d held off giving him this speech until now, he supposed he should hear you out.   “When I saw you all wrapped up in the hospital..” You carefully slide one off, “I thought I was as good as on my own again.” You start wrapping his arm in some tough feeling bandages, he guesses Recovery Girl healed the break, now it was just a crack, a sprain maybe. Either way, he probably had about 2 more days of these slings. “I’m proud of you for keeping your kids safe. I can’t say I would have done anything differently.” Your voice gets quiet, “but how would you feel if it were me sitting there like you right now?” He nods curtly at that, not even really wanting to imagine it.  You pull him toward you by his jaw and press a long kiss to his forehead, covered in bandages. “She said we could take these off now.” You add and he hums gratefully, “thank god.”  You unfasten the wrapping and slowly unwind it until his face is exposed. You’d seen his face a few times since the incident, taking bandages off to change them, it was only for a few minutes but still it was nice to see your boyfriend’s face instead of a mummy man. His nose is wrapped up in a splint and there’s a row of stitches under his eye but at least it’s still Shouta. A couple of extra bumps and bruises sure, but Shouta nonetheless.  “I’m so proud of you Shouta.” You take his jaw in incredibly tentative hands, unsure of what hurt or felt tender without the support of the bandages. “You’re really strong..” Your voice is somehow softer than your hands on his skin. He clears his throat, you’d been together a long time and he always knew you loved him sure but it was palpable right now.  “I just did what anyone else would do...” He’s really not used to all the priase, part of being an underground hero he supposed. You chuckle at that. “I should have guessed you’d say something like that.” You tuck a loose strand of hair back into it’s braid, “either way, you’re really brave. Those kids are lucky to have you...I’m lucky to have you too.”  “It’s been 10 days since we kissed.” You can tell he’s trying to slink out of the spotlight, despite the only people in the room being the pair of you.  “Maybe that’s why you haven’t started feeling any better.” You laugh as you move to sit beside him on the edge of the bed.  “That’s a pretty good theory.” He agrees leaning forward a bit, of course you oblige him, you hated to sound selfish but you missed him like this, you didn’t mind taking care of him and you always would be there to do it whenever he needed you but he got broody about it...well more broody than normal. Getting to feel him relax into a kiss was nice.  “well now that that’s out of the way, we really could use a shave. Stay there.” You stand up and he groans, “I could just go into-”  “No way mister tough guy.” You shake your head at him, “you wanted to go to the sports festival, and teach so bad even with all your broken ribs? Well this is the price you pay. Until Recovery girl says the breaks are all healed you aren’t getting out of that bed when I’m around, do you hear me?” You sit back down, “save your energy for the kids. I’m here and I wanna help, so let me.”  He supposed he couldn’t argue with that, and your hands felt mesmerizingly nice on the sides of his neck and jaw, his eyelids are heavy by the time you’re done with him, carefully patting his newly shaven skin dry.  “Thank you.” He lets his head drop back into the pillows and you hum, “my pleasure.” You say it like it’s nothing, it rolls off you like water, he can’t put into words how much that puts him at ease.  “No, seriously, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He opens his eyes and looks up at you, “I’m really lucky to have you.” He turns your words back around on you. “I’m glad I’ve got you worrying about me.”  “Make me worry like this again and you’re dead meat, Shouta.”  He huffs out a quiet laugh at that, “I don’t know, I think some broken ribs, 2 broken arms a broken leg, broken nose and a fractured orbital plate was well worth it for all the extra attention I’ve been getting.”  “If you want more attention just ask! Don’t break every bone in your body you maniac!”  You wanna wack the back of his head but you stop yourself. He just looks really happy with himself, “but it’s sweet when you worry.”  “I can worry about you without you almost dying!” You can’t even pinch his nose because of the splint, “seriously Shouta!”  “Alright, alright I’m kidding.” He insists, “come relax a little.”  You don’t argue, instead you just climb into bed beside him.  “How’s it feel?” You reach out and brush your hand over his jaw, “I didn’t shave it all, you’d look naked.” He laughs as you lean back against him, “I appreciate that, and It feels better, thank you.” You hum and turn his head toward you.  “It’s good to see your face.” You thumb affectionately at his cheeks and he clears his throat as you continued, “I missed it.”  “Yeah I...guess it’s good to be seen.” 

Its been awhile since you've done any character analysis on Fallout New Vegas, but would you be willing to go into one for some of the minor characters? I'm actually curios of your opinion on Silus the captured centurion and his motivations.

I’m more than happy to, although this won’t be about Silus so much as it will be about the quest Silus Treatment. It’s one of my favorite quests in the game, since it does a great deal just with dialogue and some creative use with the engine to create an engaging quest that showcases some of the failures of the NCR and the Legion. Given that the central theme is about picking a faction, warts and all, having a quest that puts the two main faction of New Vegas on full display is an absolutely good idea. The game is too old for spoilers, but it’s a long analysis so I’ll put a cut in.

Silus Treatment starts off simple enough, going to Camp McCarran, in the old McCarran International Airport, now the regional command post of Colonel Hsu. McCarran is not in a great spot when you first get there; there are periodic Fiend attacks, tensions in Freeside are causing havoc for NCR civilians, the overstretched NCR supply lines are making it difficult even for their central point of operations, and there’s a strong possibility that they’ve been infiltrated. It’s all Colonel Hsu can do to keep order and function in the base. Perfect protagonist fodder, in other words, for a nice quest hub.

It’s a tough needle to thread in any RPG to build a quest hub where there’s stuff for a character to do. If everyone is incapable of solving even the most basic of problems, it gives a great deal of quests for the player to do but it makes the quest-givers look incompetent, especially if the quest-givers are supposed to be capable figures in their own right. Conversely, if the NPC’s are competent, then the quests would be solved and that would close out on content for the player. There’s plenty of ways to settle this, and the devs do an adequate job here. The war effort means prioritization, and Hsu is dealing with being torn from both angles. He can’t just hunt down the Fiends, because he needs to organize patrols and deal with NCR settlers in the area. He can’t just pacify Freeside because it will engender hostility with House and so he’s delaying the order from his butcher superiors like Moore to go in with fire and sword. He doesn’t have a solution to the Kings but he’s trying to find one, which as far as writing goes is a good solution. Hsu is a decent man but overworked. He’s hoping that he can develop a solution in time before Cassandra Moore decides to pull rank and go on the warpath against all who oppose the NCR, which leaves a convenient spot for the player.

It’s this person that gives us our introduction to the Silus Treatment questline. Hsu has a valuable prize: Silus, a captured Legion centurion! Typically centurions always commit suicide rather than be captured to deny any useful intelligence to the enemy, so to capture a centurion alive should be quite a find. But it’s not going so well. Lt Carrie Boyd, in charge of base security, can’t get Silus to talk. Again, perfect quest writing to get the PC involved in the plot. Normally such a sensitive operation would never be given to an unknown civilian contractor, even for a bureaucratic mess like the NCR. Frontier desperation, hitting a wall via official channels, and the fact that the character is the protagonist in a sprawling open world help it pass ludonarrative muster.

Boyd is a real piece of work, she’s openly sadistic hiding beneath of veneer of civility. She considers the humane treatment of POW’s as an impediment, and so looks for ways around it. Notably, while she wants information from Silus to deliver to her superiors, she’ll settle for just having Silus beaten so bloody that he can’t speak anymore, calling it “entertainment.” This is a person who simply should not be in charge of interrogating a prisoner, she is neither humane nor effective at her job, but here she is by virtue simply of being the chief MP on base.

Not that Silus, the prisoner and the other side of this duo, is better. He openly revels in the barbaric practices of the Legion’s slavery system, even trying to ensure that the slaves can never achieve some level of comfort by tightening the collars and making it difficult for them to feel at ease while eating or drinking. Even if Silus is mostly saying those things simply to get a rise out of Lieutenant Boyd, he knows what the Legion is up to and enjoys it. Silus is arrogant to an extreme degree, he is filled with confidence that he can outlast any interrogation by the feeble NCR without giving up any intelligence, that he could easily escape NCR confinement and that he is so valuable to the Legion that following Caesar’s order would be a waste. Good fodder then, for the protagonist to bring him down to size.

Silus Treatment as a quest is relatively simple. Boyd signs off on the Courier beating the ever-living tar out of Silus and then steps out for a smoke, letting the player do whatever he or she wants to the prisoner. Silus, sneering, dismisses the Courier as just another piece of NCR trash, and it’s up to the player with how to succeed. Violence is always an option, you can beat Silus, and eventually gets something useful, that the base itself will be the target of Legion destruction. Silus admits that his fantasy of escape was always a fantasy, he was dead to Caesar just as surely as he as if he had committed suicide before capture. 

Yet if the Courier has points in Speech or Intelligence, he can completely upend Boyd’s methods and actually deliver a worthwhile interrogation. The first technique, with speech, uses an interrogation technique known as Pride-and-ego-down, where the interrogator routinely belittles and demeans the prisoner, usually their technical competence or soldierly qualities, in an attempt to get the prisoner to “redeem” themselves by explaining a piece of useful intelligence that would explain the deficiency as opposed to it just being a terrible personal quality. The Courier mocks Silus as a coward (bravery being a key soldierly virtue) and he defends himself by stating his bravery and that suicide is a poor death for a soldier of his intelligence and caliber, then saying how good a soldier he is for a “self-appointed megalomaniacal dictator.” Silus then spills that Caesar held his unit for three days because of “headaches,” in actuality, it’s Caesar’s brain tumor. The technique works to an exceptionally high degree, not only does Silus divulge that McCarran has been infiltrated as in the violence ending, but also that the Legion is suffering a crisis of command due to Caesar’s illness. The Courier gets a lot of useful intelligence out of Silus and doesn’t compromise the humane treatment of prisoners in the process. If it actually caused some self-reflection in Boyd, that’d be a complete win, but I suppose we can’t have everything.

My favorite option is the intelligence option, because the Courier goes full-on PSYOPS, posing as a Legion assassin sent to kill Silus for his failure to commit suicide on Caesar’s order. Silus denies it at first, but as the Courier continues to sell the performance, Silus begins to express real terror at the thought that the Courier is actually a frumentarius sent to kill Silus before he divulges anything to the NCR. The Courier fully sells the deal using Latin phrases as the language of Caesar’s elites. The Courier can quote Cicero, “legum servi sumus” - we are all slaves to the law, in what is perhaps a perfect example of Caesar’s philosophy of totalitarian obedience. The full quote "Legum servi sumus ut liberi esse possimus” - we are slaves to the law so that we might be free, means little in Caesar’s totalitarian state where all are subject to his whims and contingency plans for Caesar’s incapacity aren’t even considered. Of course, the Roman Republic was hardly a free state, but Caesar really takes the cake with his dictatorship. If Caesar’s dictum holds true: “Corruptio optimi pessima” - the corruption of the greatest is the worst outcome. how much worse is it when Caesar himself is corrupted? But totalitarians rarely raise the possibility that they themselves are corrupt, because the good of the dictator is the good of the state. After all, L'etat c'est moi is the dictum of any dictator, not just a Sun King.

Of course, fitting New Vegas, you can side with Silus, and facilitate his escape. There, you feign beating him to unconsciousness and slip him a silenced pistol, then Silus makes good his escape, killing the guard sent to bring him back to his cell and sneaking out. Of all the endings, this one isn’t as satisfying. Some of it, of course, is that you never interact or see Silus again, so there’s never any reward to the quest except for the knowledge that the base is infiltrated, which in the pro-Legion side of the quest I Put a Spell on You allows you to complete Curtis’s sabotage operation (and a far better Legion quest, in my opinion, with the NCR quest side being even better given the multiple outcomes), but also it’s not referenced again with Caesar. What would Caesar’s reaction be to the Courier springing Silus? He is quite fond of reciting a litany of the Courier’s accomplishments in Act 2 at Fortification Hill.

If I could improve Silus Treatment, I think I would have made it so the violent path wouldn’t have produced enough valuable intel, and the player needs to do some more detective work to actually get to I Put a Spell on You, or even being mislead by Curtis and becoming the unwitting patsy of the Legion. But overall, I think it was an incredible quest and a testament to the writing in the game.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

I couldn't help but to notice that the matchups are open, so I'll leave my description over here and you consider if you are comfortable taking it!

I'm a quite short (150cm. I think that's around 4'11ft-5'0ft?) chubby female. I have long fluffy brown hair, brown alomnd-shaped eyes, snub nose and small lips. I'm sometimes mistaken for a minor (I'm 19, actually!) not only because of my height, but also because people say I have soft facial features. I've been described as "too nice" and "innocent" and despite being very shy I am really affectionate once you get to know me! Also, I'm a tad dyslexic and I'm very easely startled. I cannot bear extremely loud noises because I get this weird sensation of fear that makes me cover my ears. If the noise goes on for too long, I usually get headaches afterwards :( I am softspoken and my voice has been described as "soft" and "cute". Uhm, idk what else to say, haha. Excuse me if it's too long, you are more than free to look past my matchup if it's too detailed! Have a lovely day <3

hey there! I hope my choices are alright :3c you didn't specify if you wanted to be matched with a male or female killer so I did both!

Caleb Quinn

Caleb is quite fond of your soft features, as they're a stark contrast to his own sharper ones. And admittedly, he adores your extra weight. I'll be blunt, he came from a time period in which the heavier a woman was the more desirable and his own feelings don't differ. He isn't weird about it, but it's definitely a keypoint in what attracted him to you in the first place. He is also a very tall boy, and absolutely loves how much smaller than him you are. After a lifetime of fighting for scraps and watching his designs be stolen and sold so blatantly, he has become rather protective over what he considers his. Your size makes it all the easier to keep you close and safe.

He often has a hand absent-mindedly running through your hair, or an arm wrapped around your shoulder. Regardless, he feels best when there's some form of physical contact between the two of you - it helps reassure him you're not off somewhere putting yourself in harms way. If you find him to be overbearing, sit him down and explain your boundaries. He loves you, so he will listen. He might struggle with it at first, but with some time he will treat you as an equal rather than a possession. (He just can't help himself sometimes, he just wants you to be happy and healthy.)

Whether you straight up tell him about your fear of loud noises, or he notices your reaction naturally, he will immediately try to rectify the situation. Drawing up new ideas on how to make his gun quieter, and how to muffle the attached chain. Even at risk of decreasing his weapon's efficiency, Caleb never wants to see you so scared again. Especially not because of him. If it comes down to it, he will not fire it around you. Resorting to simply gouging victims, to avoid giving you even more undue fear, if you happen to be in a trial with him.

That being said!! You also seem to startle easy period, so on his second or third time of accidentally sneaking up to you and giving you a heart attack (though how you don't notice his hobbling footsteps he doesn't know), he will start wearing spurs! They're not too loud, but just enough to alert you as to where he is when he's walking.

Please, this man needs as much affection as you're willing to give and he will more than happily return it tenfold.

Sally Smithson

Sally is instantly drawn to your personality. You are soft and sweet and everything most survivors are not. You are the breath of fresh air she so desperately needs. The both of you will need to be diligent and patient in breaking down each other's walls. She is not in a rush to court you, due to her traumatic past, and it will take some time before she allows herself this romance. But once she does, she is completely yours.

A very doting partner, if you ask her for something you can rest assured she will find it for you. As a nurse, and once aspiring mother, she can be a bit of a worrywart. Even the smallest of scrapes will have her sitting you down to disinfect and bandage it. You cough once? She will cradle you against her taller form in one of the Asylum's cots. Insisting you rest until you feel well. You are in good hands if you truly ever become sick. And while she won't admit it, she knows she overreacts sometimes but...it gives her an excuse to be selfish with your attention and affection.

Sally is not very loud at all, so you should have no reason to worry about any sudden loud noises. But she does spook you frequently, not on purpose of course, but the combination of her blinks and the fact she has no footsteps? She will try her best not to startle you, but it is bound to happen, and she always feels guilty afterwards.

While it's not what first drew her attention to you, she is enamored with your appearance. Your height makes you so easy to pick up to cuddle (or press you against the wall, you know, whatever) and your weight simply makes you softer to snuggle with. She's particularly fond of resting her head in your lap while you play with her hair!

Speaking of hair, oh goodness, you'll let her style it right? She really enjoys showing off her skills, styling your hair in dozens of ways, and painting your face with makeup if you'll let her. If you offer to return the favor, she'll simply melt.

She hasn't felt a soft touch in years, so be gentle with her! But know that she loves every single moment.

Can you make him confess... his sickness!?

When they heard Christo moaning, the demons instantly knew something was wrong. Even Red Magnus let his fist drop and stopped in the middle of his training to face his troublesome-looking friend.

"Are you okay, Christo?" Red Magnus asked with a smile that was too cheerful for Christo to look at, so he dropped his glance.

"I'm fine." He simply said, shaking off the sick feeling that made his limbs ache like... Damn, he couldn't even find a simile. He pushed two fingers against his throbbing temple, silently wishing for the pain to ease. Of course, this would have required luck and let's say luck was something he didn't have because his superior always picked up the worst horoscopes for him. His lucky word for today was "confession". Yeah... He wouldn't go that far...

As Red Magnus didn't stop glaring at him, (his stare almost screamed "suspect", Christo swore he had heard it), the tactician asked politely, "Why don't you continue training?"

"'Cause something's super wrong with you."

Christo's smile dropped, but he tried hard to make a good expression. At least, he had worn a smile for a split second, before the harsh coughing made him hide his face into the soft fabric of his cape.

"I'm fine", he mumbled, sounding less confidently than before.

"Ohohoho, nobody said anything about you not being fine just now" Seraphina's laugh hurt in his ears and he sunk deeper into the fabric, closing his eyes.

"But my, you really look pale", she said at least with a compassionate tone of voice that made her sound like a worried old lady.

"Don't you two have anything better to do than mocking me with your lame jokes?", Christo asked and looked up when he had made sure that there was no blush on his face anymore. Still, he felt like his cheeks were on fire and he could see on his friend's faces that they knew it, too.

That he, an angel, had come down with something only demons could catch.

A demonic sickness.

Damn, how he hated the small grin on Seraphina's face.

"If you are truely sick, then I may need to drop the "you're an angel" attribute of mine, because only demons can get sick, but you should know that."

Christo growled to himself. Why did this spoiled princess always twist the knife into his wound? Didn't he feel awful enough already? Wait, he just needed to think hard... Think hard, think hard... Damn, his headache was killing him. And still, he didn't know how to escape from the situation.

"You know, I don't know why you always mistake me for an angel. Do I have anything in common with such low creatures?" While saying that, he imagined the dumb grin of his superior and it felt so right to continue talking, "Angels are disgusting, awful creatures that will surely accuse you of anything randomly, like... They don't even have proof-supported reasons!" He shook his head like he couldn't believe it.

"So, you're calling me an angel, Christo?", Seraphina asked with a grin wider than the devil's mouth when consuming helpless human souls.

"Y-Yes, ehm no, of course not, no one's an angel here..." Christo looked around like he wanted to make sure. Sweat dropped from his forehead and he was now sure that his body temperature has risen to 200°C, at least it felt like he had developed a moderate fever. Damn, when did the atmosphere turned so hot? Even his throat felt sore and burned and it didn't help with the cough. Oh, when did he cough? He forgot to cover his mouth and yes, they heard it loudly.

Double failure: Usalia and Zeroken just came around the corner.

Now, he was ready to burst into flames.

"What's wrong with you, plip?" A worried child voice squeaked out. Usalia ran as fast as her small legs could carry her and she stopped sharp in front of him. The noisy scratch of the wooden floor made Christo grit his teeth.

"Nothing, nothing", he replied, keeping his composure. Of course, he felt fine. Of course, he was okay. He sense the alrightness throughout his entire body. NOT. (Expect you took away the bone aches, the clogged-up nose, the killing headache and the irritating feeling in his throat, but who would be so kind to stop his suffering? No one, of course.)

"You moaned about your pain a few minutes ago", Red Magnus reminded him.

Christo sighed and looked at all of them. Anger formed a knittering winkle over his nose. Somehow, however, he managed to not shout at them, as it was obvious that they weren't the cause for his malaise.

"Don't you all have something better to do than messing up with another person's life when they are in the middle of a cri... Critical thinking process?" He bit his tongue, surely he almost let the truth slip out. He shook his head and shook it again and again, until he felt so dizzy that he needed to steady himself with one hand on the wall. He smiled like the support made him look cool, when in fact, he looked like he was about to fall over. Zeroken rushed on his side and couldn't stopped himself from making an 'Awwww'-sound.

Of course, God hated him.

"Nawww, you look like a drunk."

"Have you got yourself a drink, plip?"

Christo was short before shouting that angels didn't carelessly drink (although he wondered if his superior had one glass or more whenever he called for stupid reasons), but he kept his mouth shut. There was the urge to cough, building up like a small fire that turned quickly in a major fire. How long was he able to resist? How long could he breathe? He heard the rattling, the little shakes in his voice when he spoke.

"I'm really... fine. Just a little... tired from... thinking."

'Or perhaps, a little bit too much tired from dealing with all of this disturbing non-sense', he thought for himself. It was then that he realized he was tired. Really tired. He could doze off in an instant. Of course, that was no option... Not here, not in front of them.

But this wooden floor almost seemed comfortable... He just needed to let himself fall on it, curl up and sleep. Every problem of his would be banned from the dream world. No pain, no cough, no sniffle, no disturbance.

He still had his pride though. That's why he didn't fall for it...

"Christo, you seem kinda pale. Better sit down." Killia advised him.

Of course, he didn't listen. He just focused on the voice. Had Killia's voice always sounded that soft and lovely like the singing voice of an angel? If so, he hadn't noticed until now. Perhaps, feverish illusions. He was fine with them.

"I'm okay, sweetheart", he said.

Wait... Did he just call Killia 'sweetheart'? Surely, the fever must have gotten higher. He shook his head and he immediately regretted what he just said.

"I knew he was gay!" Seraphina shouted half-angrily, half-victorious. How could a person be angry and victorious at the same time? It was a question that Christo never considered asking. But suddenly, he really wanted an answer. But first, he should clear the misconception.

"I'm not gay", he told them. Quietly. It was almost a whisper.

"You speak without confidence. I just found you out", Seraphina said, adding her usual Ohohoho-laugh at the end.

"I'm not gay!" Christo said now louder. It didn't help with his sore throat. He felt the fire burning. In his heart, too.

"If anything, I'm pan."

"Gay or pan, it's the same though", Seraphina told him.

"It's not the same, Seraphina." Killia told her. Surprised, she turned around and looked at him with her mouth open.

"And you consider yourself...?"

"Bisexual", Killia said with a bright smile.

Now, they were talking about sexual identity. Great. Christo really meant it. It was great that they didn't focus on his ill... He shook his head. He wouldn't even call it sickness for God's sake. He would go with "a little bit under the weather". Nothing several. Maybe, he should think about renaming it after his harsh coughing send him mercilessly down on his knees.

And the attention was back on him again.

He heard steps coming closer. Felt like a horror scene. Shadows were above him. The air was thick and it was hard to breath. He swallowed and it hurt. He clinged on his chest as the pain grew inside him. First, a little pounding, he could bare it, it's okay. Then, as the coughing started again, the pain was a cross over his chest, squeezing all the air out of him. Felt like monsters were laying their cold hands on him, suffocating him. He gasped for air. His breathing was out of rhythm, something between deep intakes and short outcomes. Almost like a panic attack. Was he panicking? He didn't know. Didn't want to know. The pain was the only thing he could focus on. And his breathing. He needed to calm himself down. Breathe in, breath out. Damn, why was something so simple so hard right now? Rattling. Didn't sound good. Should he sit up? Should he lay down? Was he able to move?

Questions overhelmed him. Unregular like his breathing. Uncontrollable. He was desperately trying to grab answers. Grabbed someone. Who was it? A demon? He would have laughed if he had had breath for it. He was safe. Maybe, he thought so. Safety didn't exist in the Netherworlds, did it? Why should he feel safe?

He pushed the hands aside with all the strength he could muster. His own hands reached for his bow and arrows. Could he make a hit in this condition? He wasn't sure. His finger trembled as he put them on the wooden grip. Sweat. He could taste it. Salty and bitter. He bit his tongue. The blood tasted like metal. Disgusting. He put the arrow between the arrow rest and shelf, then bend the strings. His fingers wouldn't stop shaking. Something awfully felt wrong.

The shadows stepped away from him. Scaried faces. Oh, he must be looking like a psychopath. His hair all messed up, his eyes red like blood, his pupils reduced to small points. Survival bonus. The tension of the string shook his body. He let go of it. Didn't saw what was hit. Just a sound similar to metal crashing. Then, everything went silent.

He smiled seemingly happy, then he crashed to the ground.

"Christo!"

Who was calling the angel's name?

It wasn't even his real name though.

"Christo..."

His name sounded funny. Was it a German word? 'Christ' maybe? Or did it come from the word 'Christmas'? He was born one day after the holy night. Coincidence, maybe?

"Christo!!"

Now, they were getting annoying. Voices calling out for a codename... Oh, wait, they didn't know it was one.

He was really dumb when being unconscious, wasn't he?

For the sake of not being called dumb, he opened his eyes, only to look into a burning light. He thought he was looking into the sun. Beautiful. Not really. It hurt.

He closed his eyes again, moaning. Maybe, rainy days were better days to get back to consciousness.

"Christo..." A quiet voice said.

"I wanna sleep", he replied, grabbing a pillow. He coughed softly into it. His throat still felt awful. Even more burning than before. He couldn't resist to the coughing urge, so he hid his face in the soft fabric, swearing to never let go of it. Somebody gently removed it from him.

"You need to keep your airways open" this someone said. It was Zeroken who put a worried glance on him.

"You really scared us, bro."

"I was so worried about you, plip!"

"Yeah, you made us super worried!"

"I'm glad you're awake." Killia said, even smiling a little.

"But you didn't need to attack us so suddenly, did you? Not that I was scared. I know how weak you are, ohohohoho!"

Christo looked up at them and met everyone's glances. Behind their kind faces worries lied. He couldn't even imagine how they felt right now. Maybe better than him. Maybe worse than him.

Maybe, they felt the same.

There was a call. From his superior. He didn't care for answering. Not now. He was feeling weak. Weaker than before. But somehow... Cooler.

He felt a cold towel on his forehead. Refreshing. He calmed down a little, he even relaxed. His thoughts were still a mess. He couldn't figure out where he was.

The underground was soft. A mattress? And there was a blanket... Though, he wasn't under it. He wished he did. He was shivering. Was it winter? Was there even weather in the Netherworlds?

No, he guessed no, Celestia hadn't snow either.

"Shhh, you are in the hospital" Killia explained while stroking through Christo's hair. It was a simple act, but it was good enough to calm the angel down.

"H-Hospital?" Christo asked weakly. He seemed to not know what it was. Something off the place. He shouldn't be here. He wasn't sick.

Coughing.

Maybe a little.

Harsh coughing.

Okay, he was really feeling down and ill and he had never felt that horrible in his entire eternity life.

His coughing eased a little. He put a hand on his chest in hope of finding the pain and rib it out. Then, he wouldn't need to feel it anymore.

This pain... It was cross-shaped. Though, he didn't know why he thought so. Just felt like it.

Someone put his hand on his. It was Killia. A warm touch. A wonderful feeling. If he hadn't been that sick, he might have smiled about it.

"Tell me what happened", Christo begged. He couldn't live with his ignorance.

"You attacked us, but you didn't hurt us", Killia told him.

"The healer said you had a high fever" Zeroken added.

"But a really really high one! Like... 41°C or more, plip!"

"A dangerous temperature for angels." Seraphina added. Her voice unusually cold.

"This was needlessly added" Christo said, "Cause I am not an angel!"

He coughed. Then, he coughed again. Suddenly, he remembered his lucky word.

Confession

Why was it so big in his head? The word felt out of place. It didn't sum up the story. Maybe he should just go over with it.

He opened his mouth, but he closed it in an instant. He didn't feel ready to tell them.

In truth, he never wanted to confess.

Especially not when all forces of the world were against him.

This couldn't be one of his lucky days. He knew it.

And when all of his friends were looking at him, troubled, worried, maybe even scaried, he couldn't tell them.

He looked away, breaking with all of their glances. He felt the rush of the fever. An energy draining and pushing at the same time.

He opened his mouth again. This time, words came out.

"I need to tell you something", he said.

"I'm actually... You see, I'm actually... An..."

"Sick, you wanna say?"

Killia was really a blessing. Christo just nodded.

It seemed like the confession took a little bit of his burden.

And soon, he would recover...

@strictlynofrills​ - Here you go! I’ sorry it took so long! I was writing it on work breaks and after I got home! hope you enjoy it! :D

"Look out!"

Bilba barely had time to register the words before a short, hyperactive blur darted across her path. She sucked in her gut and twisted, simultaneously lifting the two full trays she'd been carrying in each hand.

As she did she crouched ever so slightly, trying to keep her movements as fluid and seamless as possible. On the trays two full glasses wobbled and Bilba tensed. Then they settled and she let out a slow breath in relief.

A smattering of applause came from a handful of patrons and Bilba took a careful, partial curtsey in gratitude. A few feet to the side, the small boy that had nearly caused her to trip had the good manners to look embarrassed. "Sorry."

"That's all right," Bilba said, keeping her voice modulated and soft. "Let's just leave the running for the playground in the future, okay?"

He nodded and resumed his trek toward the bathroom, still moving quickly but no longer in a full out run.

Bilba shook her head, struggling to ignore the way her legs wobbled beneath her, and resumed her trek into the restaurant's dim room. She'd never particularly cared for mood lightning before but was grateful for it today as the bags under her eyes were especially dark and makeup had done little to cover them entirely.

No one wanted  a waitress who looked like she'd stepped out of a zombie movie.

She wound her way around glass topped wooden tables and chairs wrapped in plum colored leather, navigating pushed out chairs and sprawled personal belongings with ease.

Many of the tables were occupied with regulars and she greeted each with a bright smile as she set down appetizers, entrees, desserts and drinks. Quiet, relaxing music played over the low, steady flow of conversation and she saw more than one female guest slide off uncomfortable looking heels to sink sore toes into the plush carpeting.

Shire had been designed to be both upscale and cozy. Patrons could expect a high-class experience, but one where they also felt comfortable and relaxed. It was a place to bring a date, hold a business meeting, or just come and relax over a glass of wine after a long workday.

It'd be a perfect place to sleep too, Bilba thought, gazing with longing at the padded booths. She sighed and forced her eyes away, focusing instead on a familiar figure in a darkened booth at the back of the restaurant. Bilba saved him for last, in the hopes of being able to spend a minute or two speaking to him. As she sat his plate down he smiled up at her fondly. "And how are you doing tonight, my dear?"

Bilba glared at him. "Don't give me that, Gandalf."

The elderly man raised an eyebrow innocently. "Is there a problem?"

"You know darn well there is." Bilba gave into her fatigue just a little and slid into the booth across from him. Her head was pounding with the promise of a headache and she had that all over ache that was her body's way of telling her she should have gone to bed days ago. It had become almost a part of her over the past year and there seemed to be no getting used to it no matter how much coffee she drank.

She lowered her voice to a low hiss, not wanting to disrupt the other guests. "You didn't tell me everything about the new maitre d'."

The older man's other eyebrow slowly raised. "Did I not?" He lifted his wine glass and took a sip. "I'm certain I was quite thorough."

Bilba's glare deepened. Gandalf was an old family friend, and also one of the most prominent lawyers in the city. He'd been the one to convince her that trying to run Shire completely alone, filling the role of owner, manager, and maitre d' was simply insane. He'd offered to find her someone trustworthy and reliable to help with some of the workload, and she'd reluctantly agreed.  

A few weeks later he'd brought her a name. Fili Durin. Bilba had recognized the last name as belonging to the past owners of Arkenstone, an internationally known, high end restaurant. At its height people were making reservations a year or more in advance and, those lucky enough to get in and actually afford something, would be guaranteed to find themselves in the midst of the world's most famous and powerful people.

The last Durin owner, Thrain, had made a series of increasingly bad business decisions that, ultimately, had resulted in a hostile takeover by Smaug Drakestone. He was the owner of Drakestone Barbecue, a retail federation of chain, fast food restaurants. The day he'd taken over, he'd turned Arkenstone into the flagship for his chain, much to the public outcry of the culinary world.

The Durins, driven into near bankruptcy according to rumor, had faded from the public eye and gone unheard of by anyone for years, or at least before Gandalf had held up that slim file. Bilba had been impressed with his education and degree in both culinary arts and hospitality but had been far less enthralled with his lack of experience.

When she'd pointed that out to Gandalf the man had simply chuckled. "Are you sure you're the one to be making that judgement, my dear?"

The words had brought a flush of red to her cheeks, as well as an ego check. Bilba had never wanted to work in the restaurant industry and had taken little interest in Shire as anything more than a way to get free gourmet food whenever she wanted. She'd been going to school for a degree in creative writing when...everything had happened.

It had been a trial by fire for her, trying to learn what she needed to know to ensure her parent's dream didn't die with them, and there were certainly days where she couldn't say for sure if she was sinking or swimming.

Most days she was pretty sure it was the former.

"What the boy lacks in experience he makes up for in passion," Gandalf had said gently to ease the sting of his prior words. "Much like someone else I could name. Give him a chance. I have a feeling you won't be disappointed."

Bilba had agreed, trusting the other man to not steer her wrong.

It was a decision she both loved and deeply regretted at the same time.

"Has the boy not been doing a satisfactory job?" Gandalf asked now, brows pulling together in concern.

"On the contrary," Bilba mumbled. "He's done an amazing job."

More than amazing, really. Fili was the first one in and often the last one out. He manned the front desk, managed the staff, kept schedules up, and still somehow managed to learn the names of their patrons as well as their likes and dislikes. He had the uncanny ability to gauge a person's personality after a few seconds of speaking to them and organized the seating to ensure people were not seated next to personalities that would clash with their own. Shire's approval scores had gone up over 15% since he'd started, and the pressure on Bilba's shoulders had gone from crippling to simply overbearing.

Hell, she'd been averaging almost five hours of sleep a night, not taking into account this past week when Fili had been gone.

"Well," Gandalf asked in confusion. "If that's not the problem, my dear, then wha--"

His voice trailed off as a presence fell over them. Bilba felt her gut clench. Oh no. She'd forgotten he was supposed to be back that night.

"Ah, Mr. Durin," Gandalf said cheerfully. "What a pleasure to meet you again."

"The pleasure is mine," a familiar bass said and Bilba's insides literally begin to do a full on, Olympic style gymnastics routine. Bastards. "Miss Baggins--"

He didn't get a chance to say anything else as Bilba jumped to her feet, planning to...do...something...only to feel her hand smack into the tray she'd set on the edge of the table when she'd sat down.

The one she'd collected a few empty dishes and sets of cutleries on, intending to take it back with her.

In almost slow motion she watched as the entire tray flipped off the edge of the table. The loud clatter of knives, spoons and forks hitting the ground ripped through the serene atmosphere of the dining room, along with the unmistakable shattering of glass as the carpeting failed to save the three plates and near empty soup bowl as they impacted.

Most restaurants had tile floors for just such situations, Bilba found herself thinking irrationally as she watched the remnants of dark liquid soak into the tan covered fibers. Her parents had liked the carpet, insisting it gave a homier feel to the place. They hadn't minded having to deep clean the carpets on a near weekly basis to ensure they stayed looking their very best.

Bilba minded, very much. Particularly since, as of late, it had all been thanks to her that they needed to be cleaned to begin with.

Total silence fell over the restaurant, and Bilba felt her face catch fire. She focused on Fili's shoes, the black leather marred by drops of soup, and her heart sank.

"Sorry." She started to drop to her knees, only to stop as his hand closed lightly over her arm to stop her.

"Careful," he said mildly. "You don't want to kneel in broken glass."

Bilba's eyes flicked to his really intense, blue, eyes and an almost electric charge surged right through her. She straightened, fighting a wave of dizziness, and focused on the ground. It was the only way she could to avoid noticing his dark blond hair, or chiseled features, or the way his body filled out his suit -- and, really, who the hell decided maître d's had to always wear suits? Okay, so it wasn't like she minded, much, but she was like five seconds away from having a heart attack at any given moment so that was a problem and -- what was she doing again?

Oh, right, broken glass and humiliation and he was still touching her.

She jerked her arm free with a nervous laugh that she prayed didn't sound borderline hysterical or insane like it did in her head and knelt more carefully.

To her surprise, he knelt next to her. For the first time, she noticed he held the tray in his hand and she realized she hadn't heard the loud clang of it hitting. "Did you catch that?"

"An acquired trait," he said dryly, as he picked up utensils and the larger bits of broken glass. He sounded amused, or at least Bilba hoped he did.

He stood, and Bilba rose with him, closing her eyes this time and breathing through her nose to try and keep her feet. Fili handed her the tray with no small amount of trepidation. Bilba focused on broken bits and pieces of dishes on the tray and, before she could embarrass herself farther, spun and returned to the kitchen, past one of the other servers who was already headed to the area with a vacuum to finish cleaning.

***

Fili watched the young woman until she vanished through the swinging doors of the kitchen. She looked exhausted. She normally looked exhausted, but far more so tonight. Mentally, he kicked himself for having stayed away so long. He should have tried harder to get back earlier.

He sighed and turned back to the booth. He completely ignored the roar of the vacuum as it made quick work of the remaining broken glass and, around him, the rest of the room slowly followed his lead and returned to their own meals.

Once the clean up was finally done, he flashed a smile at Gandalf. "As I was saying, it's good to see you Mr. Grayson."

The older man looked positively delighted by something, and Fili's eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to figure out just what it was.

From the kitchen a second, loud, crash rang out and Fili closed his eyes, counted to five, and then opened them again. "I'm almost afraid to see how much we lost the last five days I was gone."

"I have a feeling you'll find it to be nothing at all," Gandalf said with amusement. "Bilba happens to be the best waitress Shire has."

Fili raised an eyebrow. "Is she?" he asked doubtfully.

"Indeed," Gandalf said. "In fact, she took over your place while you were gone."

There was the slightest hint of censure in his voice and Fili nodded with a grimace, remembering again the deep bags under her eyes. "My grandfather passed away unexpectedly and the funeral was out of town."

He'd been worried over even asking for the time off, funeral or not. He'd e-mailed, believing he could sound calmer and more professional, or at least that's what he'd told himself. In reality, he'd been cringing at the thought. He'd been there a month and was already asking for four days off? He'd expected his request to be rejected out of hand but, to his surprise, the response had been there when he'd awakened the next morning, granting him a full week off, with pay.  

"I wanted to thank you," he said now to Gandalf, "for taking a chance on me. I'm in your debt."

His entire family was. It had been a struggle after...everything had happened. They'd needed jobs, and fast, whatever was available that could keep them from losing the last few things they had. Fili had managed to get through college on grants and scholarships, hanging everything on his uncle's conviction that, one day, Arkenstone would rise again. His mother had been against it, having never loved the restaurant to begin with, but Fili had been raised hearing about Arkenstone and his uncle's dreams had quickly become his own.

It was only recently, very recently, that they'd had the luxury to begin thinking about the culinary and restaurant world again. Fili was the first to get a foot through that door, and the hope that had flared to life on his uncle's face upon hearing the news had made every moment of school, and every late night so far at Shire, worth it.

"While I'd like to take credit for it," Gandalf said. "It was Bilba who ultimately took the chance."

"Yes," Fili's eyes flickered toward the kitchen where the silence was beginning to worry him. A working kitchen was no place for someone as exhausted as she clearly was. "In any event, I'm grateful to you both."

"So it would seem." Gandalf's eyes narrowed in contemplation, and then he nodded toward the kitchen. "What do you think of Miss Baggins?"

Fili frowned. "She needs to take better care of herself," he said without hesitation. "She's no good to anyone, least of all herself, if she's near dead on her feet."

Again, a flash of guilt raced through him. Part of the reason he'd been hired was to take the burden off her. He made a mental note to work even harder to make up for the extra load she'd had to take on while he'd been gone.

"She cares deeply for her parent's legacy," Gandalf said. He seemed about to say something else but thought twice about it, and simply gave Fili a slight smile.

Taking the hint, Fili nodded and took his leave, not wanting the man's food to get cold.

He spent the rest of the evening managing the room, speaking to guests and politely ignoring the flirtatious grins of at least three young women. Once the last customer had left he oversaw clean up and closing, before walking several of the female servers out to their cars to ensure they weren't harassed in the parking lot. Security was on his mental list of things Shire could use but he hadn't felt it was his place to suggest it just yet.

Bilba hadn't reappeared since the incident earlier so, after he'd locked the front door, he headed toward the back hallway. The door to the main office was shut but there was a light shining out from underneath.

He hesitated, and then knocked lightly on it. When there was no response, he cleared his throat and said, "I just wanted to thank you for granting my time off request and assure you I don't plan to abuse the privilege. I know you took a chance on hiring me, and I intend to make you happy you did."

He flinched as soon as the words left his mouth. Happy you did? Mahal, could he be anymore cringey? He started to say something else, decided he'd said enough already, and nodded at the closed door. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

Mentally, he hoped she was in there taking the opportunity to catch up on sleep. He personally doubted it, but one could always hope.

***

On the other side of the door, Bilba stared down forlornly at the glass of wine she'd knocked over when Fili had knocked on the door. She hadn't realized anyone was still there so late, let alone him.

Talk to him, her internal voice had scolded as he spoke. It's not hard. Just open your mouth and say something. Preferably not inane. Or cringey.

That thought unfortunately conjured the memory of before he'd gone on vacation, when she'd managed to spill and entire pot of, thankfully, cold soup that had been on its way to being thrown out. On him. She'd managed to spill it, on him. Then she'd gone back to the larder to get some more...something...and walked in on Fili mid shirt change.

"Sorry," he'd said, with a low swear as she'd stumbled to a stop. "The only other place is the bathroom, and I didn't think patrons seeing the restaurant's maître d changing would be that professional."

Bilba was pretty sure the sight of him without a shirt on would cause a minor health crisis, but it would probably have not been the most professional thing to say.

Her eyes seemed to superglue themselves to his chest and, as much as her mind screamed at her, they were determined to stay just where they were.

Look away, Bilba's voice had screamed at her as her eyes had laser focused on his chest. Look away! Or better yet, leave!

She'd done neither, because she was a walking HR complaint, and he'd cleared his throat and slowly pulled his shirt closed.  

"Do you need something?" he'd asked and it had taken a lot for her not to tell him that, yes, she needed him to take his damn shirt back off.

Bilba groaned as the memory faded, along with Fili's footsteps as he walked away from the closed door.

She was a terrible boss. She wasn't her parents, or her grandparents before them. She had no training in how to run a restaurant, manage payroll, balance books or anything. Gandalf had helped her as he could, but he had his own business to run. He'd recommended she hire a new team after the old one had up and quit but she'd been hesitant to try. She literally knew nothing. If she chose the wrong people, they could literally destroy Shire, run it into the ground, steal it out from under her and she'd never known until it was too late.

Still...she chewed on her lower lip absently.

Gandalf had recommended Fili and, in the short time he'd been there, he'd been a godsend. Okay, he also looked like a god, which was not helping her heartrate or her supplies budget but, really, he'd taken such a massive burden off her just in the jobs he'd taken up.

She'd recognized it all over again in the week he'd been gone. When suddenly it was up to her once more and the full, crushing weight, had fallen back on her. She was so tired from it that she'd started crying on three separate occasions for no reason.

She didn't want to go back to that, wasn't sure how she'd done it for a year, and now she found herself desperately wanting to continue on the track she was on. To have less pressure, less work, more ability to sleep, or relax or enjoy...anything that wasn't work related.

She'd been mulling, just a little, about the rest of the Durin family. She remembered the stories, how one of the Durin children had nearly managed to save Arkenstone, would have in fact, had Smaug not swept in and cut it all out from under them. The whole family had been involved in the business, from childhood in most cases, and if even a fraction of them were as talented as Fili was...

She chewed on her lower lip and then opened her email. She'd hesitated to do it while he was gone at his grandfather's funeral, but perhaps now? She might not be able to talk to the man without tripping over herself, but she could at least email him, right?

Hopefully.

Dear Mr. Durin,

She paused. Was that too formal? It was probably too formal.

Dear Fili --

Nope.

Mr. Durin,

She sighed, deleted the email and closed the laptop lid. If she couldn't even figure out a salutation there was no reason to go any further. She crossed her arms and dropped her head on them with a groan. She was freezing cold in spite of knowing the temperature was perfectly temperate in the building, and she felt ill.

She was exhausted, in over her head, and couldn't even speak to her own damn employee.

God, she was pathetic.  

***

Fili didn't see Bilba when he arrived for work the next day. The light was still on under the office door, however, and he found himself hoping she hadn't been there since the night before. He had no idea how the girl managed to run the restaurant, work a shift and take care of the rest of her day to day life.

Then the memory of the deep bags under her eyes from the night before hit him and he realized the answer to his question of how she did it was probably simple. She didn't.

As he took up his position behind the front desk he snagged the attention of one of the other servers, an older woman named Carla. "Hey, is it true that Bilba ran the desk while I was out?"

She nodded. "She did it before you were hired too and did a fantastic job of it if I may say so. Only hired you because Gandalf convinced her to get someone before she passed out from exhaustion." She sent a concerned look toward the back office. "Girl takes far too much on her own plate. Her parents had a full staff, but she does it all by herself."

Fili frowned. "What happened to the staff?"

Carla huffed in annoyance. "Most refused to work for someone young and inexperienced, a couple others claimed it was too hard to work here without Belladonna and Bungo, as if it were a piece of cake for Bilba to do it." She shook her head. "Assholes, the lot of them."

Fili found he quite agreed. He settled into his role as the doors opened, and fell into an easy rhythm, one that wasn't interrupted until the sound of shattering glass from the bar signified Bilba had left her office.

A hand patted his and he raised an eyebrow at the elderly woman he'd been checking in. She was one of their regulars, coming in almost every day to simply enjoy the company of others. "You know, young man," she said in a voice shaky with age, "you really should do that poor girl a favor and take her out already."

Fili's eyebrow arched higher. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman nodded toward the bar. "Poor thing only gets shaky when you're around, you know." She patted his hand and winked at him from under her hat. "She's a good girl. Not like those hooligans that live across the street from me with their loud music."

She nodded again and wandered past him. Her companion, a man a few years older than Fili's uncle, smiled after her with affection. "Don't mind, Mother. She likes to play matchmaker from time to time is all."

Fili chuckled. "I don't mind at all, Sir. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to your seats."

The man nodded, and Fili led them to their table. As he returned to his desk he hesitated, and then deliberately veered toward the bar where Bilba was picking up a tray. It was ridiculous, he thought. She didn't get nervous simply because --

Bilba glanced up, spotted him and proceeded to drop the drink she'd been picking up. It hit the tray, which caused the other three drink to fall and crash onto the bar, liquid flooding the top and leaking down the sides to the floor below.  

Huh.

***

Bilba sat on a stool at the bar, head resting on her folded arms. She was in that state halfway between being asleep and awake where her body was heavy, and she felt like she had a bad case of the flu. The restaurant had closed a half ago earlier but the thought of trying to go home, or even just to her office to get started on paperwork was excruciating.

An arm slid around her waist suddenly, and she looked up with a frown just in time to see Fili as he slid an arm under her legs and proceeded to lift her straight up off the chair.

Bilba wrapped her arms loosely around his neck without thinking and shook her head in a futile attempt to clear it. She was so damn tired. "What an odd dream," she mumbled. She relaxed against him and shut her eyes again. She was dimly aware of being carried, and then settled into the seat of a car. "Noooo," she whined, reaching out. "I have to do payroll."

He knelt, one hand on the open door and the other on the edge of her seat. "You need sleep. You try to do payroll now and you're likely to pay everyone in Monopoly money."

Bilba giggled at the absurd mental image, and then groaned as her head began to pound. "I feel awful."

"Because you push yourself too hard." He stood up and shut the door. Through slitted eyes, Bilba watched him walk around the front of the car, her car, and slide into the driver's seat.

"Are you kidnapping me?" she asked suspiciously.

He chuckled, a low rumble, and then turned the key in the ignition, sending the engine roaring to life. "I'm taking you home." He grinned at her. "It's my job to ensure everyone has a pleasant experience at Shire, and that includes my boss."

Bilba grumbled and sank back into the seat, noting absently he'd somehow managed to buckle her in without her noticing. "I'm a sucky boss."

To her horror, her vision blurred, and she shook her head, trying to dispel them the threatening tears. She wasn't usually a crier. It's just a dream, she told herself. Figures she'd managed to screw things up with him in a dream.

"You're not screwing anything up," Fili said as they pulled onto the road. "You're too hard on yourself."

Bilba frowned at him. "Since when can you read minds?"

He chuckled. "You're talking out loud."

"I am not," Bilba grumbled. She sagged back in her seat. "I don't even know how to do payroll."

Fili's eyes flickered toward her, surprised. "Then how have you been doing it so far?"

"Google." Bilba raised a hand to wave through the air. "Google knows all."

"That it does." Fili focused on the road for a few minutes. "I might know someone who could help you in that."

"I'm sure you do." Bilba tried to focus on the road in front of them but it shifted in and out of focus. "I don't know anything about restaurants," she blurted. A few tears escaped on their own and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. She felt cold and shaky and, god, but she just wanted to sleep. "I'm such a screw up."

Fili grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You are not a screw up. A screw up wouldn't be able to keep a restaurant like Shire running for as long as you have, knowing as little about the business as you do. You're just overwhelmed."

The walls of her gated community came into view and Bilba wondered idly how he'd known where she lived.

They pulled up to the gate, and a light shined on them as the guard inside stepped closer.

"Miss Baggins, are you all right?"

"Hi Bard," Bilba managed to mutter. This dream just kept getting weirder. She tried to curl up against the door, but it was next to impossible to get into a comfortable position and, damn it all if that didn't make her want to cry all over again. "I wanna go home now."

She heard a quiet conversation between Bard and Fili and then the guard opened the back door and slid into her car. Apparently, in this dream, she was collecting people like lost puppies.

She heard Fili laugh again but tuned it out in favor of dozing. She was vaguely aware of the car stopping, and then of being carried again. Her house alarm beeped and, when Fili set her on her feet and supported her, she hazily punched in the code to turn it off.

Then she was being carried again and then, blessedly, the sheets of her very own bed were under her. She felt her shoes being tugged off, and then the blankets were drawn over her.

She was sound asleep before they had fully settled.

***

Fili wordlessly followed the guard downstairs again, reset Bilba's alarm and then followed the other man out, locking the door and pulling it closed behind him.

He and Bard walked in silence back to the gatehouse and then Fili headed to the sidewalk just outside the gate pulling his phone out as he did. He dialed, and bit back a grin as a gruff voice answered. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"That I do," Fili leaned against the stone wall, bracing one foot behind him and shoving his free hand into his jacket pocket. "I need a ride."

"Why?" his uncle asked, already sounding more awake. "What happened to your car?"

"I had to give my boss a ride home," Fili answered. "I left my car back at Shire."

"Your boss?" Thorin questioned. "This the one you won't shut up about?"

Fili rolled his eyes. "You know she's trying to run Shire completely by herself?"

"She's insane then?" Thorin asked. "Your mother will be thrilled."

"She's not insane," Fili said, defensively. "She's just in over her head. Anyway, I think she might be open to hiring some more people. You know, people with actual restaurant experience. Managerial, bookkeeping, so forth."

"You talk to her about it?" Thorin asked.

As he did, Fili heard him grunt and swear under his breath as he struggled to get dressed and, most likely, find his shoes. He was always throwing them every which way and taking forever to locate them again. After a minute the phone call cut off entirely as his uncle hung up in frustration. Fili slid the phone into his pocket and leaned back against the wall to wait for the other man to arrive.

"No, he whispered, to no one in particular. "I haven't talked to her about it."

Not yet anyway, but he planned too. Maybe tomorrow, over a cup of coffee if she was willing.

Plastic cups of coffee.

Definitely plastic, and with a lid.

Hey, I'm here for the first time & want to say that your writing really sets me in high spirits & inspires a lot. Thank you so much 💙💙💙 Could you maybe do TerrorMoo or OhmToonz 2 scenario from the ABO list? Only if you want to. Love you a lot & sending you waves of inspiration ⭐

alpha / beta / omega au

terrormoo drabble

2. You came up to me and starting spitting out awful pick up lines. My days been shit, I just got dumped and fired from my job, but now I can’t stop laughing.

a/n: hi omg!! i see you in my notifs all the time and i cant tell you how much your support means to me! thank you so much for enjoying my content- i hope you like this silly little terrormoo xx

Brock’s day couldn’t have been worse. He’d woken up with a clogged nose and a sore throat, sick at the beginning of the week. When he called his work to let them know he was sick, they let him know he was fired due to decreasing business.

His pre-heat had come two weeks earlier, catching him by surprise and he could feel the headache coming on before he’d even had his morning coffee (which he ended up burning his tongue on anyway). A distressing hour was spent raiding his bathroom, coming up with no suppressants, and dialing his boyfriend of five months. His stress was overwhelming by himself and as the phone dialed he couldn’t control it.

There, sitting on the floor of his messed up bathroom, his boyfriend picked up and reluctantly told him he’d found someone else, a smaller, younger omega female that he actually wanted to mate with. Brock hung up on him before he even caught the apology and didn’t try and stop himself from breaking down right there against the wall.

“Evan, I can’t go out tonight I’m- I’m out of suppressants and my pre-heat’s started.” He let the phone sit on the counter, face in his hands as he spoke to his friend. “I’m- Yeah, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hearing the disappointed sounds from the other side of the receiver. “Connor broke up with me. Mm, just then on the- on the phone… He found a new omega. A girl.”

Words of sympathy barely reached his ears and he didn’t let them sink in. He’d never been a very good omega.

It was a surprise Connor had kept him around for so long anyway…

“I’ll buy you some suppressants. You, me and Tyler can go out; no one will know you’re about to hit your heat. We’ll treat you to drinks and who knows! Maybe you’ll find yourself a new, cuter Alpha. I always hated how Connor smelt.”

Brock scrunched his nose, knowing how sometimes his boyfr- ex-boyfriend’s scent could really be overbearing. Especially if he got angry- he always did have a short temper.

With a low sigh, he dropped his eyes shut and nodded to himself. “Okay, we can go out,” he murmured. “Please get me extra strength ones and I’ll pay you back tonight… Thank you so much Evan.”

The other omega flicked off his phone and Brock sighed to himself in the emptiness of his bathroom. His headache was throbbing and his energy was already waning. He dragged himself to his feet, stepping over the mess of bottles and bathroom products and heading straight for his room.

The first hour of his morning had been simply awful and he didn’t want to do anything but go back to bed.

-

“Evan, i don’t know about this.” His tapped out another two suppressant pills into the palm of his hand and popped them onto his tongue. With a wary look to his friend, he swallowed them. “What if they can still smell my heat, or- or if I get lost-”

“Brock.” Tyler’s firm voice from the front seat had the omega nervously snapping his attention to the driver. “I can’t smell a thing. I’ll let you know and you can stay by me if you’re scared of anything. Connor was a prick. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a good night.”

Evan nodded along to the alpha’s words, flicking through radio stations as Brock sat anxiously in the back seat. “You don’t gotta be nervous, okay? We’ll be right with you the whole time!”

An hour later, Brock found himself alone at the bar, watching the crowd where Tyler had his hands on a beta’s hips. Evan had been bought a drink and was chatting away with an alpha in a booth. He sipped his cocktail, carding fingers through his hair and avoiding eye contact with those eyeing him up.

It was inevitable that finally someone slid into the chair that Tyler had left empty, arm settling on the counter and charming smile catching Brock’s gaze. “Hey, I just wanted to ask-” Pretty blue eyes. Straight white teeth. “Are you a magician, by chance?” he asked and Brock frowned. Magician? Before he could respond, that smile was widening and the man was leaning in, allowing Brock to get a whiff of the sweet scent of berries that seeped hung off his skin. “Because everytime I look at ye, everyone else just disappears.”

The realisation of the cheesy situation had Brock’s confusion falling, small smile quirking his lips. Really, the line was so bad, Brock couldn’t help his amusement. “Seriously?” he asked, settling back in his barstool and taking another sip of his drink.

That gorgeous grin didn’t falter as the alpha nodded, before his expression turned more serious. He held out a hand politely, not pushing Brock any further than he was comfortable with. But the omega wasn’t bothered at all, offering his hand for the alpha to pull into his.

His fingers were gentle, fingertips brushing along his knuckles as he examined the omega’s delicate hand. “When I first saw you over here,” pretty blue eyes lifted in confusion, “I looked for a signiature. All masterpieces have them, right?” Once again, a little proud smile pulled at his lips and Brock felt no need to retrieve his hand. “Also, also!” Brock just couldn’t stop his laughter as he listened with interest. “So I’m writing this essay on the finer things in life.” With ease, the man leaned forward, curling his hand around the leg of Brock’s barstool and pulling the omega closer by the chair. “I was wondering if ye’d let me interview you,” he asked, voice dropping to a more low, sweet tone. It felt reserved; special for the omega. With those gorgeous blue eyes on him and that handsome smile, Brock couldn’t help the buzz of butterflies in his chest.

He dropped his eyes, feeling red flush his cheeks at their new proximity. The fragrance of berries was stronger and it was hard for the omega to stop himself from leaning and taking a deep breath. The idea of scenting him made Brock almost weak in the knees and he gribbed the edge of his stool to keep himself grounded.

“You okay?” The alpha dropped his head to level his eyes with Brock’s, drawing the sensitive omega’s attention up to him. Patience and kindness was all the man offered and Brock smiled sweetly at his question.

“I’ve been having the worst day,” he explained, carding fingers through his hair and slipping his fingers between the alpha’s. The heat of his hand kept him stable as a frown pushed the man’s lips. “I got dumped, fired and my pre-heat’s come two weeks early. And- And now you’ve come in and made me feel like there’s nothing wrong at all-” He released a deep breath, returning that handsome smile. “I’m Brock,” he introduced, squeezing the fingers in his.

“Brian,” the alpha introduced. “And I’m glad I got ta see your beautiful smile. You don’t deserve to be havin’ such a bad day.”

Brock grinned. Brian. The Irish alpha suited the name and Brock couldn’t stop his smile as he inhaled subtley. Brian’s scent was delicious- Brock hadn’t ever met an alpha so alluring before. Before the omega could speak again, the alpha opened his mouth, cheeks dusted pink.

“Would ye- Would you wanna come back to mine tonight?” he asked, smiling welcomingly as he blushed a pretty pink. Brock couldn’t help his own smile, head tilted. “I know ye said you’re startin’ your heat but I know how some pre-heats can be tough- If you’re comfortable, I’d love to have ye around. You don’t have to stay with me long, I just- if you’d want- as long as you’re comfortable-!”

Brock’s laugh was breathless and sweet as he nodded happily. “You smell amazing,” he admitted, leaning in and taking in another lungful of the delicious scent. “I’d love to spend the night if you wanted me.”

Brian’s smile couldn’t have gotten any wider as dropped to his feet, standing between Brock’s legs and dropping his head to the side of Brock’s. “May I…?”

A pleased sound of affirmation released from Brock’s throat and he keened as Brian’ tucked his nose against his pulse, pressing against his scent gland. A deep inhale, Brock’s hand gripping his shirt, and his exhale drifted from his lips with a gentle purr. When he drew back, he pulled Brock to his feet too, smiling broadly.

The omega didn’t wait, pushing into the alpha’s face and fitting his face against the side of Brian’s warm neck. He drew his nose up the side of that tan skin before fitting against the alpha’s scent gland and breathing in nice and deep. The strength of his scent was dizzying and Brock couldn’t wait to be surrounded in it. The possibility of sharing his nest with the beautiful man had his heart beating faster and when Brian’s arm slipped around his waist he leant heavily into the touch.

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered and Brock didn’t think about refusing for a second.

A Change of Heart

It’s 20-BiTeen bitches!!! In celebration the girl in this fic is bi, like yours truly, cause representation matters and if you don’t like it block me. Anyways the anticipated Julian fic.

Oh yeees 😍 can you write a jealous Julian blurb ?♥️

Based off FACE by BROCKHAMPTON 🧡

Word Count: 2,179

She never though she’ll end up in the same position again. After how hard she had worked to convince herself that love wasn’t for her and that it was okay, she found herself stuck in the same spot as always. Wishing she hadn’t started anything to begin with.

(Y/N) had been seeing Julian for a couple of months now. Due to the amount of men and women that had broken her heart, she hated admitting the feelings he evoked in her. The deep connection they had formed was nothing she had felt before which exited her, but made her fearful of the unknown emotions. So she remained guarded and made their relationship as informal as possible. No titles. No commitments. Simply two people getting along and having casual sex.

What she didn’t expect was for her to be sitting in Julian’s kitchen at 2am debating whether to return to bed with the boy she was falling for or to gather her belongings as quickly as possible and walk away from him like she had done many times before. She always felt horrible after the latter, but it was the only thing she could think of doing whenever she laid wrapped up in his arms wondering how she was going to save herself the heartbreak this time.

The sudden hand on her waist startled her causing her to jump off the kitchen stool. Luckily, the familiar arms held her up saving her the pain and embarrassment of hitting the floor.

"What are you doing up right now?" He held her closer, his feathery hair brushing against her cheek.

"I um- I couldn't sleep" she sat back down turning in the seat to face him. His sleep clouded face and shirtless body stood illuminated by the dim light peaking in through the windows. "I have a headache and was wondering if you had pain killers. I thought they'll be in the kitchen, but I couldn't find them."

"They're in the bathroom angel. You should've asked me."

“I didn’t want to wake you.” Your gaze diverted away from him. Doing anything to avoid his eyes hoping he wouldn't see your watery ones.

"You okay?" He stepped closer, his fingers caressing your cheek as he lifted your chin. Silence followed his words. She wasn't. She was quickly realizing she was far from okay. Falling for someone who seemed too good for her. Unable to accept the possibly that he could be the one exception. Slowly slipping into a state she promised she would never come close to again.

"I'm just tired Julian." He starred into her eyes for a moment before nodding and reaching for her hand. She followed him back to his room, silently getting under the covers as he searched his bathroom cabinet for the pills. Julian returned with a glass of water and a crewneck sweatshirt too.

"You should put this on. Being cold is probably going to make it worse." You pulled on his soft sweater which happened to smell like his favorite cologne. The familiar scent worked to calm you down and soon enough your stress induced headache settled down. Not much later, you felt Julian's grip on your waist tightening. His arm pulling you close to his chest was becoming a routine whenever you slept over. He held on throughout the night up until the morning. Almost as if trying to make you stay forever.

The next morning, Julian was awakened by the sound of your feet shuffling around his room. He took a deep breath not wanting to open his eyes and see you rushing to leave him once again. His sad reality hit him at the feeling of the empty spot next to him on the bed. Hesitantly, he sat up catching your attention from across the room.

"Hey Julian." She looked caught off guard as she stumbled trying to step into her boots as quickly as possible. "I didn't think you'll be up this early." She looked tense. The quiet room heightened her uneasiness as Julian remained quiet simply gazing at her. It took a couple of minutes for Julian to break the dense silence eating away at both of them.

"Do you have to leave?" His voice was faint making her feel worse for trying to leave unnoticed once again. She turned around searching for her bag trying to avoid his stare. The truth was, she did have to leave. She had to leave before she did something she regretted. Running away from him temporarily allowed her to breathe. She felt like one more moment with him would reveal the inescapable fact she had been trying to avoid for months now; she was in love with him. She was afraid her brain would win over her heart and she'll break whatever relationship they had out of fear of being mistreated again. Julian had stood up now. His hair laid flat against his forehead and various purple marks scattered around his neck. "We could go get breakfast if you want. I would cook for you, but that wouldn't be really smart." He tried to ease the tension sensing your anxious state.

"I actually promised Rachel she could meet me at my place this morning." You turned around finding him closer to you than before. "I'm probably running late at this point." Your hands searched through your bag making sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. His hand reached forward lifting your chin while his other arm wrapped around your waist. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips just hoovering over yours. unable to resist the urge, you leaned forward pressing your lips to his. He pulled you closer, the kiss quickly escalating. After a minute that felt simultaneously like just a second and an eternity, he pulled back but remained close to you.

"Why cant you just stay? At least one time." He stood over you, his eyes trying to read the true emotions hiding behind yours. You stood quietly allowing yourself to lean into his touch. "You always leave (Y/N). I don't understand why." The frustration in his calm voice pulled at your heartstrings.

"Julian I have to go. I'm not doing this right now." You turned on your heel making your way out of his room and straight towards his front door. It was impossible to stop the tears as you walked outside towards your car. Knowing Julian wouldn't follow you, you remained inside your car taking deep breaths to calm your heavy breathing before starting the car on your way to your house.

"I don't know what to do Rachel!" You had been arguing with your best friend over your situation for over an hour at this point. It was all pointless. The conversation just kept going in circles.

"Just admit that you're in love with him and let him know! He wants you (Y/N). I don't understand how you can't see that." She sat on your couch nonchalantly causing your irritation to rise.

"You just don't understand Rachel. How many times did someone else seem to want me before? And how many times did that not end up with me crying over them to you?" You ran your hands through your hair in utter exasperation at the inability to do anything to help yourself. "I don't want to get hurt again. I promised this wouldn't happen to me again, Rachel."

"Just give him a chance (Y/N). He's Julian! Not some trashy guy I warned you about before. He's just as fucked over by the fact that you're not together yet as you are." Tears you thought you couldn't have anymore began to stream down your face again for what seemed like the hundredth time in just a couple hours. "Come here." You slowly walked to your best friend who sat waiting with open arms. You buried your face into her neck silently letting it all out. She knew how much this was hurting you even if you were the only one overthinking the situation. You sat with her for a couple minutes, her hand soothingly running up and down your back. The quiet moment was interrupted by the front door opening revealing a distressed Julian who just stared at the both of you. Quickly you wiped your tears standing up feeling the lump in your throat returning.

"Julian, what are you doing here?" The tension you felt before had returned, only this time it was worse. You saw Rachel shifting behind you probably just uncomfortable as you were.

"I wanted to talk to you. I didn't know I was intruding I'm sorry. I'll leave." His voice was higher than normal hinting that he was trying his hardest to hold back. You stayed quiet simply staring back at Julian who still stood in your living room despite his words.

"You're not intruding. I was about to go." Rachel broke the silence quickly grabbing her phone and walking out the house before you could stop her. Julian remained quiet even with Rachel gone which left you no other option but to start the inevitable conversation you had been dreading.

"What do you want to talk about Julian." You sat back down hoping he would follow.

"You know why I'm here (Y/N)." Tip toeing around the subject wasn't going to help either of you.

"Don't be ambiguous Julian. Please get to the point." He took a deep breath before unleashing everything he had been holding in.

“What are you waiting for?” His words instantly jab at your heart. “Do you just want to sleep around with me for eternity? Do you just want someone to not be alone?” You kept quiet knowing he had every right to complain. “What do you want us to be?” He turned his body towards you now hoping to get a response from you.

"It’s not that easy, Julian.” You knew that's not what he wanted to hear, but that was sadly the only thing you could come up with without completely breaking down.

“Do you even really want to be with me? Do you want to be with somebody else? Do you want to be with Rachel?” The comment instantly caused you to snap your head towards him.

“What are you talking about?” Out of everything he could have said this was the last thing you could've thought about.

“I just don’t understand what you want! We spend every second possible together. We talk about everything. And no matter how much closer I think I get to you, you always walk away. You walk back to her. And if that's what you want, then that's okay. Just tell me. Talk to me. Don't ignore whats going on.” You shook your head not knowing how to express every single thought that was currently running through your mind.

"Julian it is definitely not what you think. I don't want to be with Rachel. She's just my best friend and the only one I've been able to talk to about this whole mess. She's not part of it." You instantly shut down his suspicion moving on to the painful part. "And I don't blame you, okay? Not even I know what I want at this point." The tears unwillingly resurfaced. "I just want to be happy." You gave up all composure you had, immediately slumping forward dropping your face into your hands. Not two seconds passed before Julian was next to you holding you close to him.

"I'm sorry." You shook your head.

"No Julian. This isn't on you. It's on me. We're in this mess because I don't trust myself to be in a relationship again. Every time I try, everything goes wrong. I don't want that again." You finally looked up to see him. His eyes soft and empathetic. “You have no idea how many times I’ve been fucked over Julian. How many times I’ve been lied to.”

“I would never lie to you.” You smiled reaching for his hand, squeezing it softly.

"I know. And that's why I don't want to fuck this up for us." Julian pulled his hand back placing both of them on your shoulders now.

"Listen. I know people have treated you wrong, okay? I can see it. You’re hurt. You don’t trust that we'll work out. You don't believe I can love you. But you’re wrong this time, baby.” He smiled looking at you wishfully. "You're completely wrong."

“I’m being cautious Julian.” The more he spoke the less your argument seemed valid.

“You’re being cautious with the wrong person. I just want to love you." You sat up moving towards him now, his arms instantly on your waist pulling you onto his lap. He pressed kisses against your face as he held you tightly. You held his cheek, your fingers ghosting over the light stubble, as Julian moved forward capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

"Good thing I already love you, Julian." You felt his lips forming a smile as you mumbled the words into the kiss.

"I know you do." He pressed his lips against yours once more. "Because I do too."