i feel a bit feverish but who cares about that anyways

Seeing Stars

How long had it been? Four or Five Years since you became his caretaker? Five, but the last year seemed like a blur. A wonderful blur, but a blur nonetheless. Now, the merman considered you more than a friend or caregiver. You were his mate. And he made sure to show it and let any staff member know if they even looked at you with a lustful gaze.

He was a special case. He was sentient and had the ability to speak. Though he often refused to. So, the staff members allowed the relationship to form. And when your manager saw his drastic improvements - he urged you to take it much farther than just friends.

He was a deep sea Mermaid. Unlike the reef mermaids who were predominantly female and brightly colored. His skin was desaturated and light grey. His body was muscular, but athletic. He had: black hair, a Spiney tail with bioluminescent scales that formed a pattern, sharp teeth, webbed hands, and pink eyes that dilated and contracted in the light. And his species were predominantly male. They rarely ever came to the surface unless in need of help. This Merman however was caught in Reef Mermaid Territory and they nearly ripped him limb from limb. His injuries had been life threatening, but thankfully since he was a rather large size - he was able to the operated on and saved.

When his time came to be released back into the wild - he relented. He wanted to stay and learn more about humans. And the aquarium allowed it. In return he just had to show off every once in awhile for an audience; something he was fine with doing since it was only for an hour three times a day.

However, he was picky about his humans. Only certain ones could give him medical care. And only one could teach him. And that was you. And he fell for you very quickly. He would always bring you gifts or ask certain staff to give you cards he came up with. Or even give you a bag of his favorite human snacks. And in your fourth year, you started to fall for him slowly. He even gave himself a human name for you.


He didn’t understand the concept of gender. Biological sex yes, but gender was something he honestly didn’t care about.

You looked out and saw him break the surface his pink eyes just watching you. You watched him go back under. Something was up. You took off your jacket and set his meal aside. Then your shoes before carefully wading into the water.

He popped up again this time in front of you. He looked flustered.

“S-sorry.” he mumbled, “I’m not feeling the best today.”

“It’s alright, are you feeling feverish? Bloated or?” you asked him.

Your aquarium knew a lot about his biology, but there was one thing they could never figure out and that was mating cycles. They weren’t like most animals where it was yearly or even monthly. Their cycles had to build up. And something in the back of your head told you - you were about to find out all about his biological mating cycle.

“Bloated… is a very good word for this love.” he chuckled softly, “Tell me what is the moon phase?”

“Full, and the fifth Anniversary of you being here.” you said blinking curiously.

“Mmmm that would be it…” he said, “Love it would be wise if you were not in the pool with me. I’m sentient, but still wild in my own way.” he gently pushed you into the shallow end.

It clicked. And your face was crimson red.

“O-oh!” is all you said.

He nodded, “I don’t want to risk hurting you.”

You scrambled back a bit, and he followed, but was still a few feet away. He just gave you a gentle smile.

“Sweetheart, you know you can ask me anything right?” you asked him softly.

“I do, but I know not how human anatomy would work with mine. I cannot risk hurting you or feel the heartbreak of an unviable brood. This will pass I promise.” he said albeit eerily calmly.

He looked over and saw the bucket of fish and hummed. He grabbed it and devoured the entire thing. Which was odd for him as he was a light eater. Yet this time he left nothing but bones.

“I-i mean… if human males can inseminate the Reef Mermaids… it should work for us yes?” you asked him.

He licked his fingers, before cleaning up his mess and setting the bucket aside. He crawled up further to you. He smirked.

“See, they are built like whales or other fish. My kind… we’re a little different. Being all male we have a different system that can work with each others anatomy.”

A webbed hand ran up your abdomen and gently pushed it. Like as if he were testing something. He hummed idly.

“Technically we’ve not consummated - so… I-i…” you murmured.

He heard this and perked up looking down at you, eyes bright and surprised. His skin filled with blood and turned red, his bioluminescent parts lighting up. He seemed to really appreciate that offer. He lowered down and kissed you.

“Tell me are you truly that serious? My kind mates for life. And if we do this~” he cooed.

You giggled, “Of course, I love you Star.” you said throwing your arms around him. You pressed into him, “T-that and to be honest I am rather curious… if it hurts me in anyway we will stop.”

He chuckled and gently tugged at your wetsuit.

“Promise?” he asked, “And should I explain… or?”

“No, explaining anything. It might scare me off, if I have questions I’ll ask as we go along. And I promise.” you chuckled nervously reaching up and unzipping your suit to reveal your breasts.

“Alright, but if I don’t stop just punch me in the nose alright?” he asked.

You playfully roll your eyes, “Alright. Jesus, for a creature that’s not supposed to be intelligent you’re smarter than most of my species males.”

He chuckled and ripped off your suit deeming you were being too slow. “Well we do love our partners. They come first.”

He looked over your body, gently touching every area he could to get a gauge on what felt good for you. Your neck, your thighs, the small of your back,and even smaller areas most humans forgot about. When he found all your erogenous zones he went to work.

You were quite surprised by how quickly he found everything. You moaned when he nibbled at your neck and shuddered when he kneaded your breast. You could barely return the favor as you ran your hands down his chest and over the sensitive gills causing him to gasp slightly and moan. However when you got too eager and moved your hands lower he pinned him above your head.

“No, not yet.” he said groaning slightly, he just wanted to take you, but he knew enough about humans to know they needed a little help to be prepared for sex.

You pouted and huffed, but respected his wishes and he let go. You leaned up and kissed him, but this time there was a thick mucus like substance. It tasted like kelp.

He chuckled, “Trust me darling you might not like the taste, but it’s going to make this process much easier and far more enjoyable for you. Now, since you’re about as clueless as I am on anatomy, please present yourself.”

You chuckled and nodded, “You’re sweet, Star.”

He just smiled down at you, “No, that would be you. You’ve been nothing, but kind to me since coming here.” he pushed himself back fully, examining you. This was rather different. So, many choices. What to play with first.

A cramp in his abdomen made his choice for him. There wasn’t anytime to experiment, this was getting painful for the merman. He needed to release his eggs and soon.

He gently rubbed two fingers over your folds causing your hips to buck up. You whimpered softly.

“O-okay, see the soft nub at top? That is a very sensitive place for us, and the middle hole? Thats our-”

“Mmm needn’t say anymore love.”

Before you knew it, your legs were over his shoulders and his long tongue was working you. The mucus made everything so warm that all you could do was moan as the pleasure became stronger.

When he nibbled and sucked at your clit you cried out in pleasure. Your hands reaching into his: medium length, black, wet hair. You pushed your hips into him. Guiding him as he asked what your liked. Of course, you hadn’t known at first due to inexperienced partners in the past, but oh boy you were beginning to find out.

“P-please just let me ride your tongue.” you moaned out softly.

“Mmm my pleasure dear.” he said and pushed what he could of his tongue into you. Salivating even more at your taste.

It formed more mucus that made your insides warm and seep in its own natural lubricants. And if that wasn’t enough when he started moving it, you felt like you were going to go right over the edge. Yet, no matter how much he teased you couldn’t. Even with the mucus causing your pleasure sensors to reach unbelievable heights.

When Star was satisfied he pulled away, he looked at how dazed you looked and then down at how soaked and engorged you were. Even your clit had enlarged before it had been barely visible, but now - it was triple in size and that’s what he had wanted. You whined spreading your legs more.

You were a little embarrassed, but heavens it felt wonderful and you trusted him not to belittle you for being so needy. He leaned over and bit your breast leaving some teeth marks, he sucked and gently pulled causing your back to arch.

“F-fuck Star!! Please…. Stop teasing.” you cried out.

He pulled away and licked up the blood. The mucus stopped the bleeding immediately. Good, he had no worries everything was compatible so far.

“Sweetheart, we can not do it like this, I will crush you.” he chuckled lifting your head.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and chuckled.

“How is it you can turn me into a goopy mess?” you smiled and kissed him, your core still aching.

“Mmm usually I ask that.” he said and looked around, he found a rock out of view, and gently took you to it. He carefully got onto it and then got you situated as well.

“H-heh so like this?” you asked, “M-makes sense since I can’t… nggh breath underwater.”

“Are you okay?” he asked a bit worried.

“I’m fine just… please…” you whimpered.

“First look down.” he cooed softly, he had been very good about hiding his arousal, but now some of it was peaking out, “You get to curb your curiosity.”

You scooted a little and looked down between you and smirked seeing it. So, it was fairly standard to most whales and dolphins. That made you less nervous. You hummed moving your hands down and rubbed around it looking up seeing his eyes were closed.You giggled and grinded on him and looked down seeing it fully emerge. It was hard to miss against his black scales. It was a flushed pink that matched his bioluminescence.

Your face flushed, oh he was large. No wonder he was worried. You snickered gently wrapping a hand around it, and felt all of the delicious ribs. The tip was thin and tapered which would make this a little bit easier, the base was slightly bulbous which confused you, but you rolled with it. You heard your mate moaning your name softly his pink bioluminescent features gently rolling in a soft soothing pattern.

You went a bit harder and faster, when his eyes shot open. You saw this look and stopped immediately. He grunted softly and sat up slightly pulling you into a kiss. You shuddered and kissed him back moaning when he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You felt his hands move you over him.

“Are you ready?” he purred softly, “Now remember if this is successful you may not be able to go back to a normal life. Nor can we break our bond.”

“I Understand love, just please, be gentle.” you said smiling.

“I love you.” he said and kissed you.

“I love you too.” you kissed him back, “I-i do have one request, could I maybe face the other way. You are a bit large so it will be easier.”

He nodded smiling, “Of course dear.”

He shifted you around carefully so your back was against his chest and his head rested on your shoulder before he gently lowered you onto him, his mucus and your own lubricants made the shift painless. And each little rib hit all the right places inside. You moaned out and leaned back slightly and began grinding into him. He did what he could, but you had to put out most of the work. Maybe one day they’d have a breathing apparatus you could use this would be much easier. For now this would have to do. You panted as you moved your hips, but you were wearing out rather quickly. It was then that you felt your mate’s hands come around your hips and begin lifting and plunging you onto him.

You leaned back onto his chest, arm slung back to stroke his cheek. Your breathing was becoming hard. You could feel your body coming so close. But, it was still so far and it was frustrating. Even with the rougher and faster pace your body was just not reaching.

“S-star please, I want to cum so badly.” you moaned.

He smirked, you were begging and it was kind of cute. A nice reversal as well, usually he was the one begging for attention. He hummed gently working himself deeper and deeper, the thin tip pressing pass the cervix he came to a grind not wanting to risk hurting you. He moved his hands around to spread your lips apart and rubbed at your engorged clit taking the large nub between his fingers giving you a mini handjob. If this was going to work, he needed to knot you during an orgasm so nothing spilled out. He grunted bumping into you faster his knot growing his fingers working your engorged clit more and more until.

“STAR!” you arched back and came clenching around him, barely even noticing the knot inside locking you into place until you tried to lift your hips and cried out again, you kept grinding into your mate setting off his own orgasm and moaned feeling the warm liquid seep into you. There was an unusual pressure however.

You glanced back at him, “L-love?”

He just kissed you gently, “Is it uncomfortable?”

“No, just odd…” you breathed whimpering it still felt oh so good, “How far are you in me?”

“Past your barriers darling.” he cooed moaning softly, gently grinding into you, “We’re not done yet.”

You were shocked by this, at least until you felt the knot expand even more, spreading you out. You felt little bumps in his shaft and it hit you what was happening. And now you knew exactly why he was concerned. However you were in too much pleasure to even care.

“Ahh.. fuck please fill me up.” you whimpered as he bit into your neck and thrusted only once and the eggs started moving into you. Every time one popped in you felt heavier and heavier. You noted his stomach flattened out as yours got bigger. You begged for more, but as soon as your womb was full, but not stretched too far that was all he had, he rammed into you bringing you to another orgasm as well as himself filling you up with more fluid to round out the small pooch you did have.

You cried out his name as he pulled away from your neck and licked it. Once he was down from his high he immediately tended to you.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” he asked rubbing a hand over your now obviously bloated abdomen.

You managed a nod as you felt his knot decreasing and him slipping out of you, which made you whine. You wanted more, “Mmm it feels so good still.”

He kissed your shoulder and gently rubbed your clit, it was still engorged, the mucus was almost washed off though perhaps he could bring you to another orgasm. “Patience love.” he hummed and rubbed at it, making sure to hit all the right places until you came again shaking against him.

He pulled away when you cooled off and just rubbed your abdomen, “Oh my my, you took the entire brood! Oh, they’re going to be so cute. Your dna mixed with mine.” he was just fawning over you now. He nuzzled your cheek and licked it, “I must get a bed put in here for you! Or a pool  in your place for me! I want to be there watching you grow as you carry my fry.”

Your face flushed as you leaned back onto him looking at your own abdomen you looked four to five months pregnant. “H-how big will they get?” you asked worried.

“Not very, they will fill up their egg, maybe double in size. You’ll lay them and then they’ll hatch!” he hummed, rubbing your abdomen.

“O-oh good… my body can handle that.” you chuckled smiling, you looked back at him, “You really think I look good like this?”

“You do.” he cooed kissing your lips, “Maybe next time there will be more!!”

“N-next time?” you asked.

“Mmm yes, once every five years we must somehow remove our brood whether it’s implanting or naturally disposing of them…” he hummed kissing your neck, “And please don’t stress, not many survive. It’s not like you’ll have dozens of babies. And not all mating cycles work… to be honest… if they are viable it’ll be my first time too.”

You actually felt kind of sad, but understood what he meant, you nodded, “I actually like this feeling…” you smiled and looked back at him, “I love you Star.”

“I love you too.” he said and shifted so he could kiss you deeply and tenderly.

The months passed by and you had been able to talk the aquarium into letting Star take Parental leave until the small merbabies were able to function well and were healthy enough to be in the now expanded aquarium tank with their father. He was sitting in the salt water pool making sure his aquascaping would be safe for them. He even made a small area just incase they needed more time to hatch. He was so excited. He hummed and looked at the ring on his finger. It was his idea, he wanted to marry you in the human way since you went through with what his kind did for mating for life. Luckily since he was able to prove his sentience easily you were able to find a priest willing to do the ritual.

He looked over to you as you just relaxed in the shallow end of the pool. You looked about eight months pregnant now. He swam over sensing something in the air change and pushed himself up so he could be sitting with you. It was almost time.

He had been doing some reading on human births and found your systems were very - unethical as he called it. The pain he read about scared him, so he had a plan. He kissed your neck and up to your cheek giggling.

“Star, what are you….” you winced feeling the pressure in your abdomen.

There it was, Star cooed, “It is time I could smell it!!” he said and kissed you, “Darling, come into the water.”

You obliged and gently waded in. Star managed to push himself up enough to hit a button that would close any open blinds. Then another that dimmed the lights in the pool. He let the overhead lights stay the way they were since they weren’t very bright currently. He swam back over seeing you were already starting the breathing exercises. He was working up that kelp flavored mucus. He was hoping to make this as painless on you as possible. He hummed kissing your cheek sloppily.

“Darling take off your bottoms. I have an idea.” he said gently trying to reassure you.

You nodded and took off your swim skirt and set it to the side. The labor pains weren’t as severe as they could have been, but still had you close to tears. You were relieved when Star told you about his plan and hoped it would work. This was too much and it wasn’t just one baby it was a brood of eggs.

You felt star rubbing at your lips and groaned, what was he trying to pull? You weren’t in the mood for this. You looked down at him and he just pulled your legs over his shoulders.

“S-star what are you?”

“If the mucus worked before maybe it’ll work here.” he said before plunging his tongue into you.

Now that made sense and you felt your sore body immediately take in his little quick fix and warm itself into pleasure. Oh, if this was how it was going to be everytime viable or not you wanted him to stuff you with his brood every time. Within five minutes you were moaning out his name. Your vagina, lips and clit engorged even more than before. He spent about ten or so minutes doing this until you were an absolute mess of pleasure. He noted how long it would take you to become near unresponsive for future reference.

But, now came the fun part. Star shifted so he would be able to help adjust your legs into a proper position. He even moved his hand between your legs to hold your lips apart as he would’ve done for a another mer partner. However he decided to help coerce the eggs out and gently rub your clit and lips.

While this seemed odd you were grateful. You’d rather be put into a stupor with pleasure than pain. And would have to do something for him later. You felt the eggs line up in your canal and soon it came time to push. Stars fingers did not relent on your engorged clit. However each wave of pleasure helped you push a jumbo chicken sized egg out and through your vaginal canal into the water. Luckily they were rather spongy so they were able to gently and carefully fall to the bottom of the pool.

Stars little plan was working. It was making this process painless and much quicker than it would have been otherwise. He never let you come to orgasm. He mentioned something about saving that for the last few difficult ones, but you were to busy focusing on the pleasure and process of laying the eggs to really pay much mind. When you were nearing your ends he felt of your abdomen. Just as he thought. There were a few stragglers. However that just meant you’d get to enjoy yourself to the fullest.

“Almost done love, you can do this.” he cooed and kissed you nipping at your lips and neck before his hand moved from your vaginal lips to your two inch clit.

This caused you to scream in pleasure as your hips moved in time with his movements helping the trouble maker eggs line into your canal in a large bunch. He was rather rough with you causing your orgasm to be so powerful you squirted and the very last few eggs came out in one go.

He cooed softly and slowed everything to a stop and came up and laid your head in his lap. He stroked your wet hair, pink eyes looking down at your filled with absolute adoration that you could birth so many. He looked out at the pool and noted sadly; that a good 80% of the brood was unviable. They were floating a top, but that was alright. He would clean the mess later and more closely examine the others and cull the ones with any imperfections or the ones who wouldn’t survive.

He looked back down at you, your breathes heavy from the amount of work you just went through. You gently shifted so you could lay against his chest. Body now numb from everything you did. You looked up at him with tired eyes and smiled.

“Thank you, that little plan of yours helped so much. Mmmm and felt heavenly if I do say so myself. I could get used to this~” you said with a worn voice.

He chuckled and kissed you gently, rubbing your back, “You did good. I will be transporting them to their little place soon love. For now you need rest.” he said and smiled helping you get back into your swim skirt, “Not here though, I can’t risk you drowning.” he cooed. “I love you.”

“I love you to.” you said.

Carefully stood up and kissed him one last time before heading to your room. You had no idea what to expect when you woke up, you only knew that you were happy. You fell onto your bed not caring you were sopping went and fell asleep. You loved your merman husband and little soon to be children very much. And it was hard to believe it was all because of an assignment.

Art by: http://artistic-alpaca-afterdark.tumblr.com

Written for @watsonsanatomy =)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

Rosie was crying.  Again.  It was the fourth time that night, and John had barely gotten a wink of sleep.  He rolled out of bed and padded over to her crib.  She wailed up at him and reached out, and he picked her up in his arms, pressing his cheek to her forehead and murmuring “Shh, shh, it’s all right, daddy’s here.”

She felt warm.  Too warm.  As a doctor, John knew better than to panic about a little bit of a fever, but it still wasn’t a pleasant thought.  Still whispering soothing words against her head he carried her carefully down the stairs.

221B was dark and quiet, only the distant sounds from the street outside permeating the silence.  Of course Sherlock would pick tonight to go to bed at a reasonable hour when John had a screaming baby in his arms and was bumping into things left and right trying to get to the loo.

Ever since he’d moved back to Baker Street with Rosie he’d kept all of the medical supplies in the cabinet under the sink in the loo.  The hallway that led down that way was blocked off by a gate so she’d never be able to get to it.  He knew he had some baby medicine in there somewhere.

Rosie was still sobbing, but the sound was muffled by John’s shoulder, and Sherlock usually slept like the dead so John wasn’t too worried.  Until he hooked his foot on the top of the gate while trying to step over it and it came crashing down as he stumbled into the wall.

John cursed and heard a thump from inside Sherlock’s room, and a few second later the door swung open and Sherlock appeared, looking…well, endearingly disheveled and still half-asleep.  He squinted at John in the darkness.

“Is everything all right?”

Rosie’s cries stuttered a bit, and she picked her head up, craning her neck around to see Sherlock.

“Yeah, yeah, just…tripped over the damn gate is all.  Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Sherlock stepped closer, tilting his head slightly.  His eyes were slowly regaining their intellectual light, and he stopped in front of John, his gaze on Rosie, reaching out to flick on the hallway light.  John winced at the sudden brightness in his eyes, but when he managed to get a clear look at Sherlock he noticed a developing red mark on Sherlock’s cheek.

Rosie reached out a hand for him, and Sherlock gave her one of his fingers to hold onto.

“Why is she crying?” Sherlock asked.

“Daddy,” Rosie said.  John kissed her temple, letting her know he was still right there.

“She’s a bit feverish,” he said distractedly, stepping closer and reaching up with his free hand to touch Sherlock’s face.  “Did you–did you fall out of the bed?”

Sherlock’s flushed and smacked his hand away.  “No.”

John couldn’t prevent the grin.  Not that he tried very hard.  “Yes, you did, you fell out of the bed.”

“You startled me!” Sherlock snapped.  “Shouldn’t you be taking care of your daughter instead of interrogating me anyway?”

“Daddy,” Rosie said miserably.

“I know, love, I know, we’ll get you sorted,” John said.  Then, glancing back at Sherlock with another small grin, “You should really put some ice on that.”

Sherlock huffed and turned to sweep back into his room in characteristic dramatic fashion, but before he’d even taken three steps Rosie cried out, “Daddy, no!”

Sherlock froze.  So did John.  Rosie was squirming in his arms, reaching unmistakably for Sherlock who still had his back to them.

“Back, back, c’m back, daddy!”

John felt like something in his chest might burst, and he said, “Sherlock,” a bit hoarsely.  

Slowly, as if he was afraid he might break if he moved to quickly, Sherlock turned back around.  His eyes were wide, and he looked as Rosie like he’d never seen her before in his life.

“Daddy, daddy!” Rosie sobbed, her arms flailing out in front of her, but she couldn’t reach him.  She turned around to look at John, and her expression was almost accusatory.  “Want daddy!”

John stared at her, stunned, and then looked back at Sherlock who was still staring at Rosie, and there was something so so fragile in his eyes, something John wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before.  John did the only thing he could think to do, which was to put Rosie down on the floor where she immediately crawled over to Sherlock and pulled herself up by his pajamas.

“Daddy,” she said firmly, her little fists closed around the worn fabric as if she could keep him there by force.

It was like watching a statue learn how to move.  Sherlock leaned over, his movements strangely jerky, and pulled Rosie up into his arms where she immediately cuddled herself into his chest with a little sigh.

John suddenly found he needed to blink very rapidly.  “I–I’ll go get the, um, the medicine.  Can you just…?”

Sherlock nodded mutely, all of his attention on the little girl that had attached herself to him like a barnacle.  John hurried past them and went into the loo where he leaned back against the door and took a deep, shuddering breath. There was the sound of Sherlock’s muffled voice moving down the hallway, toward the sitting room, and of Rosie’s delighted replies that were mostly garbled noises.  

John listened to them and pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes, willing himself not to cry.  His chest ached, and he wanted nothing more than to go out there and wrap his arms around both of them and never let go.  

In hindsight he should’ve seen it coming.  Of course she would see Sherlock as her father.  He changed her nappies, he fed her, he played games with her, he played her the violin when she was fussy, he was…he was her father.

John let out a long breath and pushed off from the door, crouching down to rummage through the cabinet.  He had to pull himself together and get Rosie feeling better so he and Sherlock could have a much needed talk.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

There will probably be a part two to this.  It just got…very long.  Ahem.  But I want my boys to have their kiss, soooo yeah.  :)

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Insecure; reidxreader

combined two requests.

Anon requested: Can you please do one where the reader is short (like 5'2), a bit chubby and curvy, and has SUPER small hands, but is insecure about those things, but that’s what Reid LOVES about her and she gets really upset about it one day and he just explains to her that he thinks she is beautiful and great etc.:

another Anon requested: Can I request a plus sized reader who is uncomfortable with herself and Spencer isn’t having it because he thinks she’s beautiful? I recently found your page and fell in love with it!:

first off thank you both, i hope this meets your expectations. (: i am so so so so so sorry this took so long my loves. i wish it was longer but that seemed like a good place to end it. (pls give feedback thank u) 

Originally posted by toyboxboy

You were laying on the sofa with Spencer, his arms around you as you were on top of him. A movie played on the tv before you, but you didn’t pay much attention to it.

You were absentmindedly twirling your hair around your finger. You shifted so that you weren’t on top of him anymore, instead sitting at his feet as he was spread out on the couch.

“What are you doing? Come back,” he pouted, opening his arms for you to move into. You smiled sadly, shaking your head. You didn’t trust your voice. 

But, try as you might, you couldn’t hide much from your boyfriend. He was an FBI profiler for the BAU. It was a given that he could tell when you were upset or angry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He swung his legs over, sitting next to you on the couch. Spencer gently used his fingers to tilt your chin towards him, so you’d have no choice but to look into his eyes.

You let out a sigh. Today you just weren’t feeling well, was all. You felt a little more insecure than usual and you couldn’t decide if you wanted Spencer to hold you closely against him or stay as far away from you as possible. 

“Y/N,” he said your name expectantly, wanting an answer. 

“I feel kind of..” you gulped as you struggled to find the right word to describe your feelings, “off.” That was the best you could do.

“Off?” he questioned. He took your hand in his.

“Insecure.” you blurted it out quickly, as if saying it fast would change the fact that you said it at all.

Spencer clicked his tongue. “Come with me.” 

You both stood up, him leading you to the bedroom by your hand. You gave him a very confused look when he told you to sit down on the bed, but did so anyway. You questioned him multiple times, “what are you doing?” to which he just replied, “you’ll see.”

“Alright,” he started, kneeling on the side of the bed, “what are you feeling insecure about?”

Your cheeks reddened, and your voice was choked up when you said, “Spence, I..” How the hell were you supposed to answer that?

“Y/N. Breathe.” he said. He held both of your hands tightly in his own. “It’s only me, okay? I just want to know what you’re thinking.” Spencer was staring at you with such intense concentration that you averted your eyes. You tended to do that quite a lot. If someone was giving you their full attention, you were suddenly very aware of their eyes on you and felt like you if you didn’t look at them anymore they’d stop looking at you.

“I just,” you began, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes but not caring anymore, “I feel self-conscious. I’m so short, and I’m definitely not skinny, and my hands are so small. I hate it. I’m not comfortable in my own skin.” At this point you were crying as you rambled.

“Sh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Spencer shushed you as he pulled you into him to cry into his chest. “Lay back.”

You felt so exhausted that you didn’t question him or argue. You laid down on the bed, your head on the pillows as you looked with curiosity at your boyfriend. He hovered over you. His eyes scanned your face for what felt like forever. 

“Did you know that your height is one of the things I love most about you, physically? Like, when I get home from a case and you’re waiting at the door for me and I hug you, and you just fit so perfectly with me. And that I can rest my chin on the top of your head.” He said it fast, as if he absolutely had to get it out.

“You’re just saying that.” You said, but your cheeks were a shade of pink and your lips held a small smile.

“I am absolutely not.” he said firmly.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Spencer shut you up by leaning down and pressing his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. He pulled away after a minute, breathless.

“Did I mention how much I love your lips and your mouth?” he winked. You smacked his arm jokingly, “Stop it,”

“No, never.” He kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth as your lips moved in unison.

When he pulled away again, he kissed down your neck and across your collarbone. “You said that you weren’t skinny, but that doesn’t even matter.” he muttered, getting lower with each kiss. He kissed down your stomach, your hip, and your leg on one side, then came back up to kiss your cheek. “Your appearance says nothing about who you are.”

Tears silently slid down your face. He brushed them away with a small smile gracing his lips. “You take care of yourself, I love you.”

You bit your lip. “I love you too.”

“And you said you have small hands.. but I love the size of your hands.” he said it as if it was a fact. As if it was impossible for you to think that.

“They fit into mine, just like this,” He held your hand in your own. 

“My love, never think you’re not good enough. I know me loving you doesn’t change how you view yourself, but I’m going to help you however I possibly can.” Spencer meant it, you knew he did. And that’s why you loved him so much.

“You’re so beautiful.” he told you, before capturing your soft lips in yet another kiss.


Twigs and Twine and Tasha Banes/

My meta for this episode is, I’m not writing a meta. What’s the point? It was perfect, perfect, perfect and I hate the fact I can’t be fully happy, relax and enjoy it. Because we’ve been here before, right? When it was so close we could touch it - and, whatever those anons in my askbox say, it’s not about a ship, because (personally) I continue to have no interest in shipping whatsoever. This is people telling us a story, being elaborate and decadent and romantic as fuck about it, and I want to hope they’re not lying to us this time - I can’t see how they’re going to worm their way out of this, and why they would even want to, but - yeah. 

As I said, we’ve been there before.

So I’m not going to comment on how painstakingly the Banes mirrored the Winchesters - the queer, cocky sibling who doesn’t give a fuck, the other sibling who feels like an outsider in their own family, the parent who hunts alone and ‘hasn’t been home in a few days’. What’s the point? Steve Yockey went to great trouble to shove it in our faces, and, to his credit, he never hesitated - he went all out, killing off a character he’d created himself (I think we can all agree on the fact that Alicia Banes is, for all intents and purposes, dead) so that he could carve up a perfect parallel, because as it turns out, his Max can’t bear to live alone either, and would do anything, anything, to bring his sister back.


There’s also no point, I guess, to discuss Chekhov’s grenade launcher again. We know it’s there, we know it’s something Dean can’t have and can’t touch (but he really, really wants to), and it seems almost sure by now that the thing will have a prominent role in the season finale. 

(Which, yay, but also - a grenade launcher is not really a synonym for surgical strikes and level-headedness - are you ready for the bloodbath? I know I’m not.

And the question remains - what about the metaphorical grenade launcher? Will Dean get his hands on that too?)

No, I just - you know, a few months ago I actually embarked on the mad project of tracking down everything Steve Yockey had ever written - not out of a creepy, stalkery obsession, but simply because I was absolutely blown away by Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox and my entire frontal cortex was like, *grabby hands*. So, well - I sat through twenty episodes of Scream wishing I could be sixteen again (which was the whole point of that show, I guess), and when I finally got to Yockey’s episode - there was no difference. None. It was more freakishly thin girls running this way and that, more masks carved out of human faces, more meetings in video games stores instead of going to the police. And at first I felt a bit cheated, but now I’ve seen Yockey’s third episode for Supernatural, I suddenly realize this is actually good news - because Yockey is very, very good. He can blend in. He can write stuff that’s so indistinguishable from S1 canon he’s basically a House Elf (and is it a good thing or a bad thing when you don’t notice a writer is there?). And the thing is, he was very clearly told not to. Whatever Dabb’s goal - and, as I said, I don’t want to run in the streets with a confetti machine until I know for sure - Yockey is deliberately turning it up to eleven, because, again - I have no doubt a part of the fandom will start to shout OOC and whatever, but guys - Yockey can do the thing if he’s told to do the thing. But it’s now very clear he wasn’t.

So, well. This episode was tragically beautiful. What got me like a punch in the face is that Max Banes doesn’t, in the end, follow in Dean’s footsteps: Dean doesn’t allow him to make a demon deal, which means Max is forced to find that ‘other way’ the Winchesters are always daydreaming about. But, well - in his case that ‘other way’ is going home with a sort of golem sister - a thing that talks like Alicia and moves like Alicia and may have her memories and may even be able to be feel the sun on her face and the warmth of her brother’s love and the empty nothing of her mother’s death, but is not a human being. In doing what he did, Max condemned himself to a fake and hollow life, and that’s even more heartbreaking if we consider how open he used to be about everything. Living as a natural witch, a gay man, a POC in a world of monsters (hell, in Trump’s America) - Max was shameless about it. From the very first moment we saw him, he never tried to hide. But now, all of that is gone. And, sure, there’s a whole Big Question there - we could try and justify his choice, since that’s where we’re all headed, anyway - but to see him trapped like that - the burning body of his twin sister on his right, and a frankencreature wearing her face on his left - ouch.

I hope the Winchesters find a better ‘other way’ than that, but this is Supernatural - even if they do, they’ll likely get there crawling through a hill of corpses. 

[I apologize for my sombre mood. I’m still a bit feverish, maybe it’s that. In sunnier news, I’m working on a project that will make some of you very happy, so there’s that.]

I’ll Save the Prince (Prince!Ten x Reader)

How goes it? Are all of you deceased from NCT’s comeback??? I know I sure as hell am!! Before I delve into all the smutty requests coming up, I thought I’d rewind for a moment and give you all some fluffy Ten, which a lovely anon requested! This is a Prince AU, with a HUGE twist. I got really involved with the story RIP

P.S. Ten really is an Actual Prince

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh

The sun was blazing, far too bright for its own good, as it shone down brilliantly on the capital city. The market place was crowded with people on the lookout for deals, trying to make their meager amounts of money last. You felt the familiar weight of coins press against your thigh in your apron pocket, your hand cupping the cool metal protectively as you squeezed between stalls. In your family, money had recently become sparse, so every coin was precious and worth thousands more than it truly was. You had to be smart and calculate the best possible deals, using your sharp mind to its full potential. Market day had been your responsibility since your mother had passed away, your father following her fate not even a few hours later, unable to live a day without his beloved wife. That had been years ago though, and you were stronger know, had a stronger mind, and a tongue that would make a knight quiver in his armor. You were not one to be messed with.

You shopped swiftly, the sun over your head functioned as your clock, not wanting to waste a single second. You needed to get back to your brother as soon as possible, you were afraid to leave him alone for too long. On your way back home, you stopped by the apothecary, picking up the herbs used in your brother’s daily tea. As you entered your house, the pathetic jingle of coins in your pocket set a lump in your throat, knowing you were running low. You wouldn’t be able to afford your brother’s medicine now. You had to figure out a plan fast.

You called out warmly, “I’m home,” slipping out of your clogs as you walked up the steep stairs of your thin house.

You entered the house’s only room, a big one where your whole family used to sleep and cook. Now it was just you and your twin brother, who laid in his straw bed, sweat pouring down his feverish brow. You hurried over to him, dropping the basket you’d used for the market, “Oh, no.”

You bit your lip and took a cloth you kept by the bed and soaked it in a bowl of water, dabbing your brother’s forehead as he panted in his fever induced sleep. His eyes cracked open slightly, whimpering pathetically as he lifted a shaky hand to still yours, “It’s no use, ______.”

Tears were welling up inside of you, but they were filled with anger; anger at yourself that you couldn’t do anything to make him feel better. You swallowed them, putting on a brave face for your twin, “Hush, now. Stop being a pessimist and get some rest, I’ll make your tea.”

Through his glazed over eyes, you saw him give you a familiar hard stare that was common when he had been well. He didn’t say a word, letting you rest the cloth on his forehead and pick up your basket, watching you diligently make his bitter tasting tea.

When you had finished, you brought the steaming cup over to him, blowing on the hot liquid to make it a comfortable temperature. Satisfied after you dipped you tongue into the bitter liquid with a scrunched face, you offered the cup to him, “Drink up.”

Your brother didn’t even bother to crane his neck, simply refusing it, “What’s the point _______?” He wouldn’t even meet your gaze as he swallowed thickley, “At this pint I’d rather just die than drink that damned tea.”

You slammed the cup down onto the bedside table, fury in your eyes as you snapped, “Don’t say that! Don’t you dare ever say that!”

Your twin smiled wryly, “It’s okay, _____, you don’t have to try anymore. I’ll be okay.”

You felt something in you break as his words washed over you, your voice cracking, “I won’t be okay though.” You buried your head into the bed, feeling a weak hand stroke your hair as you sobbed, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Your brother didn’t say anything else, having already drifted back to his feverish dreaming, his hand sliding off head and landing softly on the bed. You sat up, furiously rubbing the tears from your eyes, realizing what you needed to do. No point in laying around crying, no one was going to save you from this. You had to save yourself.

You determinedly stood up, fists clenching as you walked over to the only wardrobe in the entire house. It was a dark imposing piece of wood, inside was the key to saving your brother.  

You ripped open the double doors, revealing a suit of armor that glittered in the sunlight that fell across it. You were temporarily blinded, shielding your eyes from the sudden assault of light. When they adjusted you reached in and took out the helm, examining the strange piece of metal, beautiful as it was. Engraved into shining silver was the royal crest, only present on the helmets of those who served in the royal guard, protectors of the royal family. Before he had become ill, your brother’s specific job was to guard the crown prince, heir to the entire kingdom, no light task for sure.

You set the helmet down gently, careful to not awaken your brother, who would be furious if he knew of your plan. You grabbed what could only be your twin’s most prized possession, a beautiful broad sword that had been made just for him by the royal blacksmith. You unsheathed the heavy weapon, gazing upon its cruel beauty as it seemed mocked you. You felt as though it was testing if you were actually going to go through with your plan. With a whisper, you spat a fiery challenge, “Watch me.”

Having decided, you walked down the stairs and out your house, hailing down a messenger with one of your prized coins. You spoke swiftly, the page not missing a beat, “Deliver this message to Sir Johnny, Captain of the Royal Guard: ‘My brother is finally better and he’s eager to return to the Guard. Please stop by the house to meet him tomorrow morn. _______.’ Got it? Now off with you!”

The page nodded as you pressed the coin into his palm, running at a break neck speed to the imposing castle. In the bright cloudless day, it was the only thing that could block out the sun, it’s towers and spires stabbing into the sky proudly. You clenched your fists again, feeling ready to accept your new challenge: impersonate your brother and take his place in the Royal Guard in order to save him!
You woke even before the stars had been chased away by the sun, creeping around your house to ready yourself for your first day as a member of the Royal Guard. You splashed your face with cool water in the washroom, debating whether it would be worth it to cut your hair or not. Regardless of the situation, you were still just a girl who could hardly stand the thought of cutting off her tresses. You decided just to tie it up, your brother’s hair had grown quite long anyway and he hadn’t been seen by his guard friends for about a month. Although you were twins, your height differed slightly and your face was rounder and more feminine, a rosy glow that couldn’t be hidden. As you stared back at your face in the small mirror, you thought it would be best to avoid showing your face at all times, glad that you had the helmet to shield yourself.

You quickly dressed into your brother’s clothes, taking a moment to tuck the covers of your twin’s blanket up to his chin, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Johnny couldn’t see him, or else your plan would be foiled. So your story was to pretend that you yourself had fallen ill and were extremely contagious, that would keep him away.

You finished getting ready, clumsily donning the armor by memory as you tried to remember how your brother did it. You had some difficulty with the chest plate, the size a bit too big for your smaller frame, but you had to make it work somehow. After minutes of struggling and worrying you would hear a knock on the door at any moment, you finished, placing the clostraphobic helmet on your head, but keeping the visor open to breath. Only your eyes could be seen poking through, your long lashes the only indicator of your true identity. Only a complete fool could tell the difference by accident.

It was at that exact moment you heard the excited knocking on your heavy wooden door, your heart beat picking up as you trudged down the stairs. Your hand shook as you grasped the handle and pulled, revealing the handsome face and lovely long hair of the Royal Guard’s Captain, and your brother’s best friend, Johnny.

“Oh, man! It’s been too long!,” he laughed, embracing you warmly as he clapped your shoulder. “It’s amazing you’re finally back on your feet, and so quickly. And here I thought I would never see you again, yeah?”

You gulped, this was your first test, lips already quivering as you replied with a poor imitation of your brother’s voice, “Well, all thanks goes to my sister…pal?” You wanted to slap yourself, ready to have your helmet ripped off and your true identity to be revealed by Johnny. What kind of punishment would you receive? Impersonating someone was a crime, right? Right?!

Johnny didn’t even bat a lash, before he grinned and joked, “Is that right? ______ always would have made a better soldier than you, ya know!” He peered over your significantly shorter head into your house, “Where’s she at anyway? Always a treat to be greeted by a beautiful girl on the way to work, am I right?”

Your jaw dropped, unable to believe that Johnny was this much of a dunce. You recovered from your monetary loss of sanity and pretended to be your typical overprotective older brother, “Hey now, Johnny. Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you get first dibs or something…”

Your brother’s friend burst into a fit of laughter, hand coming to rest lazily on the hilt of his sword, “I know, I know. I was only teasing you. I know how protective you are of her, only the best for ______. That’s what you always say, remember?”

You felt warmth spread through your chest, a fondness for your sick brother that made your heart ache, “Y-yeah, that’s right. Well,” you made your way to close the door behind you, stepping out on the street, “Ready to go?”

“Sure am!,” the tall soldier exclaimed, clapping you on the shoulder once more before leading the way to what you could only assume was the castle. Your nervousness was beginning to disappear, replaced instead with a newfound confidence as you strolled through the streets. Before, people wouldn’t even spare you a glance, the occasional catcall was all you received. Now people would tip their caps to you, give nods of recognition, bow in respect as you walked by them. It was a strange feeling to be in your brother’s shoes, knowing you would never be treated this way without this suit of armor.

Already living in close proximity to the center of the capital where the castle laid, you only followed Johnny for a few short minutes before you stood before the large iron gates. Johnny shouted up to some garrison soldiers, who shouted back before cranking open the gates. Your eyes widened at the majesty before you, the impressive architecture and just sheer grandness of the whole castle. You’d never been inside the gates, that privilege only being reserved for merchants, the court, those of social standing, and soldiers.

Johnny glanced over at you with an eye smile, “We should go greet Ten, right? He and the others really missed you.” Johnny stopped suddenly, looking over at you with eyes full of sadness, “Actually, most of us thought we wouldn’t see you ever again…”

Your lips parted at his confession, mind wandering to your brother, still laying sick in his bed unbeknownst to them. You felt guilty, knowing they were happy to see the wrong person. Johnny perked up again, knocking his fist against your helmet affectionately, “But you’re here now! Come on, let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

You followed Johnny through twisting corridors, up grand staircases, and hallways filled with paintings probably worth more than your life. You finally arrived at a beautiful gold enamel door, the knobs a shining brass that made a clinking side as Johnny opened the door with his gauntlet-clad hand.

Not even a second passed before you were completely swamped, swept into hugs and smacked on the shoulder so many times you were sure you’d find a bruise there later. Johnny shooed them away, protecting your shaking form as he laughed, “Alright, alright. Let’s let His Highness have a chance to see his favorite soldier.”

An amused voice retorted, “Is that jealousy in your voice Johnny? Or am I imagining things again? Step aside and let me get a good look at him.”

Your gasped from within your helmet, the sound echoing loudly throughout the room. Only a few people gave you looks, but they looked more amused than anything. Before you stood likely the most handsome boy you had ever laid eyes upon. A gorgeous smile played on his perfectly soft looking lips, deep brown eyes twinkling happily. Gentle waves of black hair spilled over his forehead, his hand coming up to push it away from his eyes as he laughed, “What’s this? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Your eyes were impossibly wide, completely forgetting all words as he leaned in and embraced you warmly, his mouth close to your ear, “It’s been too long, brother. You’ve been missed.”

Your heart stopped, feeling his breath fan across your lips as he spoke. You could barely find it in yourself to reply, “I-I’m glad to be back, Your Majesty.”

He pulled away, looking at you quizzically, “'Your Majesty’? You haven’t called me that since you first joined as a soldier. It’s just Ten, remember? No need for formalities.”

You were taken aback, “Yes, sir! I-I mean…Ten.” You let the one syllable name spring off your tongue, the sound of it leaving your lips satisfying.

“That’s better. Now,” he winced gingerly, “Please forgive me for this next bit. They really wanted to, and I couldn’t say no…”

You furrowed your brow, confused, “What do you-”


You squealed rather girlishly by accident, the stinking scent of what could only be ale poured all down your body as they roared in laughter. Your nose crinkled, hair already beginning to smell as the stickiness washed down your body, “Come on, really?”

They were giggling like village girls and bar maids, even Ten couldn’t contain his amusement as he covered his nose with a handkerchief. He offered the little piece of silk to you, biting his lip as he stifled his laughter, “Here, maybe this will help.”

You rolled your eyes at him sarcastically, but blushed, taking the small square of fabric and dabbed at your eyes, “Gee, thanks, Your Majesty.”

He smiled, but behind his smile, you saw some type of confusion. For a moment you were worried he was beginning to catch on, you needed to act more like your brother. You coughed loudly, “Hm! So, which of you shitheads should I beat up first?”

That seems to shut them up, their eyes wide in shock for a moment before they burst into another fit of giggles. Ten sensed your discomfort, the ale beginning to dry and make your skin itch, “Here, I’ll have someone draw you a bath.”

You felt panic rise in your throat, “O-oh! No, I’m fine! Promise!” You were in dangerous territory and your cover could be blown.

“No, you’re not,” Ten lifted a perfect brow, already sending an attendant to prepare your bath. “Let me take care of you for once, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with royalty, your shoulders sagging in defeat as you nodded silently. As you waited to be whisked away by servants, you watched the other boys interact, smiling to yourself as you watched them act so childishly. You thought how happy your brother had been only a month ago, amidst all his comrades
and friends. Your eyes lingered on Ten, who seemed to be doing the same thing as you, watching from afar with a smile playing on his lips. Sensing your gaze he looked over at you, his face suddenly changing again into one of confusion and scrutiny, as if he were looking into a pool of water. You looked away with a blush on your cheeks, hidden behind your helmet as a servant informed Ten that your bath was ready.

You were led down a hall decorated with ancient suits of armor to a large bathroom, probably the most luxurious looking room you’ve ever been in. You gaped at how ornate the bathtub was, steam curling from the surface of the water that was sprinkled with flower petals. You were left alone as the servant backed out, realizing your identity was still hidden as long as you were careful.

With a relieved sigh, you went to unbuckle your armor, resting the lightweight metal on the tiled bathroom floor gently so as to make no noise. You didn’t want any unexpected guests, for sure. You stripped quickly, glad to be able to see the womanly shape of your body in an exquisite full length mirror on the wall as you stepped into the steaming bath.

You let out a small moan of appreciation, sinking deep into the bath and letting the water swallow you whole. You scrubbed the sickly sweet smell of ale from your skin, still unable to understand why men did these sort of things.

There was a sudden knock on the door, Johnny’s voice coming in muffled through the door, “You good in there? Need any help?”

You sat up suddenly, smacking your head hard back against the tub, “Ow, shit! Y-yes, I’m fine!” You clapped a hand over your mouth, forgetting to make your voice deeper. You looked over at the door handle and realized that it wasn’t locked.

“What was that?,” Johnny questioned, turning the handle at the same time. “I’m coming in.”

“No!,” you cried out, still disoriented from smacking your head. “Don’t-”
“Oh, hey! There you are,” Johnny smiled, pretending to shield his eyes. “Didn’t know you were still in there. Your hair’s gotten so much longer! One month can really change a person, I was wondering why you were so short looking.”

If you weren’t afraid of your cover being blown, you would have smacked him in the face. Your hands were too busy discreetly cupping your breasts as you tried to remain calm, “Y-yeah. I’m really out of shape, it’s kind of embarrassing actually…” You were trying to imply that you didn’t want to be seen naked, but it went through one ear and out the other.

Johnny pouted, “Hey don’t say that. You had the best abs out of the entire Guard and I bet they’re still there, let’s see…”

“WAIT! NO!,” you shrieked girlishly as Johnny lifted you from under the armpits and out of the tub with ease, letting you dangle midair in his grasp.

To your surprise he remained rather composed, even when you were before him in all your naked glory, Johnny still managed to be calm, “Well then. You surely aren’t a man.” Your eyes widened as he placed you down gently, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you to give you some semblance of modesty. He gulped, scratching the back of his head, “Hey there, ______.”

“Hey…,” you said, still scared to breathe as you tripped over your words, “I-I can explain-”

He didn’t seem to be listening as he passed a hand over his face and groaned, “Your brother is going to kill me.”

You grew agitated, snapping your fingers to get his attention, “Nevermind about that, Johnny,” you took a deep breath. “You absolutely can’t tell anyone that it’s me.”

“Why not?,” he whispered, flopping his hands dramatically, “You know this is probably some sort of crime? Like a felony? Like the ones that get you thrown in jail?”

“I’m not stupid,” you pouted, tightening the towel around you. “This is the only way I can save my brother, Johnny.”

“What? Is he not better?,” he furrowed his brow.

You nodded, clenching your fists, “That’s why I have to do this. We don’t have any money left, and he’ll die if I don’t get him some real help.”

Johnny grasped your shoulders, bending down to your level, “_______, why didn’t you say anything sooner?! I’m sure the Prince would have helped him long ago. Hell, even I would have!”
“Then help me right now, Johnny,” you whispered, “This is something I can’t do myself.”
The tall soldier’s lips parted in surprise, but he nodded in understanding, “Okay.” A sudden loud bang was heard, seeming to come from the room where you’d been. Johnny’s hand reached for the hilt of his sword, shock and confusion written on his face. His entire demeanor changed as he reached for the door, voice low, “Get dressed, soldier, and meet up with me. Looks like I’ll have one more person besides the prince to protect.”

With that he rushed out the door, heading towards where shouting could be heard in the distance. You dressed quickly, once again struggling to put your armor on correctly, hands shaking as you thought back to Johnny’s words. I don’t need to be protected, you thought with a frown. I can protect myself and I can protect the prince. Watch me.

Strapping on your sword, you traced Johnny’s footsteps, realizing that it was much quieter now, causing uneasiness to settle in your stomach. You reached the room that you had initially been in, only to find it in shambles, the entire side wall had been completely wiped out. You gasped, pressing a hand to your mouth as you saw the bodies sprawled around in the rubble. You felt like you were going to vomit, tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you stumbled back a few steps. Ten was nowhere in sight, the Crown Prince was gone. You wandered over to a few of the bodies, gulping as you checked to see if any of them were still alive. You had no such luck, turning to search for Johnny when he realized with relief that he was not among the fallen.

A hand grabbed your ankle, a scream released from your throat as you stumbled back in shock. One of the soldiers you had thought dead was clinging on to your leg for dear life, but he didn’t look like a soldier you had seen in the room earlier. His voice was raspy, raw in his throat as he gurgled, “We have him already, you fool. You’re too late!” He cackled, dragging himself up your leg as you began to scream in terror, not sure what to do in that moment.

Suddenly, you were embraced from behind, a strong arm brought a stained broadsword down on your assailant. You screamed in terror, feeling the man’s life blood splatter down your armor, the hand on your leg twitching and going limp. You couldn’t help the tears that spilled down your cheeks as you turned to find the familiar face of Johnny, not a single trace of mercy on his features.

“Shh, it’s alright, ______,” Johnny murmured, sheathing his sword and taking your head in his two hands so you had to look at him. “Listen to me,” he shook you lightly, “______, listen to me. If you want to help your brother, you’re going to have to help me.”

“I need you to help me save the prince.”

You hiccupped once more, lip trembling as you met his gaze, “Why me? I could hardly handle a half dead man attacking me! You think I could fight,” you gestured to the gaping hole where the wall used to be, “whatever did this?!

Johnny gave you a hard, serious look, uncharacteristic for the usually cheery boy, “Absolutely.” He scoffed, looking you up and down, “I mean, who is brave, or down right crazy, enough to steal their twin’s armor, impersonate him, sneak into the castle, and even trick the Crown Prince?”

You looked up at him, realizing that a trained soldier, renowned for his battle prowess, was praising you. He believed in you. Why shouldn’t you believe in yourself? You knew in this moment your brother would haven’t hesitated, agreeing to rescue the prince without a seconds hesitation. You thought of Ten’s beautiful smile, the way his voice had been so close to your ear…you had to save him too. You blushed, knowing that it was more than duty driving your actions. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but when your eyes met Ten’s, something deep inside of you awoke. Something you didn’t realize you had within yourself. No one fell in love in a matter of an hour though…right?

You set your teeth, determination in your heart, “Okay, I’ll do it. But Johnny,” you murmured, “What did this?” You looked out of the hole again, seeing the vast kingdom spread before you.

“Dragon,” he replied, eyes hard as he followed your gaze. “And not just any old dragon, no…this was the same dragon that killed Ten’s grandfather, the old king.”

Your eyes widened, “How do we know Ten is still alive then?!” Panic and fear coursed through your veins as images of Ten’s body mirrored those in the room.

“We don’t,” Johnny stated, already beckoning you to follow after him. “But we can only hope that the dragon is a greedy beast. If he’s smart, he won’t kill the prince right away, instead hopefully he’ll use him as a hostage to get what he really desires: gold and jewels.”

Your mind went back to all the bedtime stories of greedy gold-obsessed dragons your mother had told you and your brother, and the brave knights who saved princesses captured by them. If you hadn’t been so worried, you would have laughed at the turn of events. Here comes a female wannabe knight to save her prince.

Johnny and you arrived at the stables, taking two horses that were already saddled and ready to ride. He turned towards you, “Have you ever rode a horse before?”

You shook your head, eyeing the large animal nervously. The tall knight came over and guided you into the saddle, “Well now’s your time to learn. Just do what I do, you’ll be fine.”

You nodded, watching as he swung his leg over the black stallion with ease, “Let’s go. Hyah!” He snapped the reigns, the horse snapping to attention and bolting out of the stable and into the castle courtyard. You panicked, hands shaking as you mirrored Johnny’s actions, “Hyah? Ah!”
Your grey mare was a feisty girl, kicking off at a break neck pace and catching up with Johnny’s horse in a matter of seconds. The long haired boy, glanced over at you in approval, a type of brotherly look you hadn’t seen since your twin had fallen ill. “The dragon lives in a deserted town not too far ahead, a short ride. When we get there, I need you to follow my every command. Do you understand?”

You nodded, focusing on the task at hand and urging your horse on as the two of you raced towards the prince.


You arrived at the abandoned village, a desolate place that smelled of burning wood and fire, no surprise there. Johnny cautioned you with a hand as you followed him from the spot where you had hidden your horses. “We have to be extremely quiet, dragon’s have senses far superior to ours. He’ll know we’re coming if we’re not careful.”

“Okay,” you whispered, placing a hand on the hilt of your sword to reassure yourself.

Johnny noticed and nodded in appreciation, “See? You already have the instincts of a soldier.” He halted you, taking you behind a brick wall that had managed to survive the town’s demise. “Draw your sword. Quietly though,” he winced, as you noisily pulled out the gleaming piece of metal.

“I pray to every god that it won’t come to it, but if you somehow have to use it, I want you to be able to defend yourself,” Johnny whispered, silently drawing his own sword. “It’s a broadsword, so it must be held strongly in two hands since it’s a heavier weapon.”

You mirrored his pose, widening your stance and lifting the sword to match the height of his, “Like this?”

He nodded, “Yes, good. Now,” he brought the sword in a swinging arc, a devastatingly powerful move. “Try that.”

With conviction, you almost expertly copied his move. Johnny’s eyebrows shot up, a hand pulling up his visor in surprise, “Good, ______.” You smiled, proud to have shocked him, a seasoned fighter and master swordsman.

He looked around, “That’s all we have time for now, we need to move on. If we end up surviving this, I’d be glad to teach you more later. Maybe even your brother could, if he hasn’t killed me before the dragon does.”

As you got closer to where a stream of smoke circled into the air, a foul sulfuric odor poured into your nostrils. You coughed and brought your visor down, seeing Johnny do the same as the smell reached his nose, “What is that?”

“That, ______, is dragon,” Johnny whispered, clearing his throat quietly as you crept even closer to what appeared to be the remnants of an old keep. You gazed at the crumbling stone, trying to picture what it might have looked like before the dragon had destroyed it.

You and Johnny snuck over to one of the walls, peeking into a hole to get a good look at what you would be dealing with. You stifled a gasp with your hand as your gaze landed on the great scaly beast curled up on top of a heaping pile of glittering gold and jewels. Johnny hushed you, placing a hand on your back to steady you as he craned his neck in search of Ten. You did the same, finding him trapped under one the dragon’s great big claws, bloodied and bruised. Your heart leapt as you pointed and whispered, “Johnny!…”

“I see him. Seems like he’s still alive,” he replied, turning toward you. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to sneak in there to see if I can just slip him out without the dragon waking up. I want you to stay here, okay? Worse comes to worse, I want you to run as fast as you can from here and hide. Do you understand? Ten and I may die, but I don’t want you to be killed as well.”

You went to protest, but Johnny snapped back, “I can’t take you away from your brother, _______. He still needs you.”

You shut your mouth, watching with your stomach turning in knots as Johnny took a deep breath and began to inch away. You stopped him with a whisper, “Johnny,” you lifted your visor and pressed a kiss to the cheek of his helmet, “Good luck.”

The tall knight nodded, squeezing your shoulder one last time before he slipped into the large hall that the dragon used as his home. You silently moved around too, unable to take your eyes off of Ten who lay weakly beneath the dragon. You felt so useless just standing there, wanting more than anything to just run in after Johnny. You decided it wouldn’t do no harm to follow him from afar, just in case, right?

You did just that, creeping after Johnny who was already crawling on all fours up the huge mound of gold towards the prince. He was so close too, just a few arm lengths away from the dragon, who snoozed away, peacefully unaware. Your breath caught in your throat when you heard a gentle clang, watching as Johnny accidentally bumped into a gold vase. It teetered precariously, setting your teeth on edge. Johnny lifted a hand to still it, his foot slipped though, and instead of stilling the vase, he pushed it, the heavy metal tumbling loudly down the pile of treasure.

It was like a chain reaction, the way things occurred. First, Johnny’s hand went to his sword’s hilt. Next, Ten awoke, wiggling under the weight of the dragon’s claw with a gasp. Finally, one single terrible green eye cracked open and an ugly pink tongue snaked between scaly lips.

“Well, well,” came a deep rumbling from the back of the dragon’s throat. “What have we here? A little metal man coming to save his weak and tiny prince? How absolutely touching.” The dragon emphasized his words by pressing Ten down into his pile of gold, making him cry out in pain.

“Stop!” Johnny shouted, standing up completely and drawing his sword. “Let him go, you ugly ass lizard!”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that,” the dragon purred, revealing his pointed teeth in what must have been a smile. “He’s too valuable and I haven’t even gotten my gold yet.” He stretched lazily while sitting up, tightening his grip around Ten as he seemed to inspect him, “After I’ve received what I want, then I’ll kill him. There’s too many of you humans scurrying around anyway.”

“For a lizard, you sure do talk a lot,” Johnny retorted, but you could sense the slight waver in his voice. “If you won’t give him to me, then you leave me no choice but to take him from you.”

“Oh my, what a feisty little metal man you are,” the dragon chuckled, an ugly rumbling sound. “You know what isn’t so good about that armor you wear?”

Johnny furrowed his brow, “What?”

“How easily it melts,” the dragon laughed, sending a stream of fire directly onto Johnny, causing you to scream out in terror. You watched the dragon knock him back with his tail, the tall soldier falling limp down the mound of gold.

Making any noise was a grave mistake, the dragon whipping his head toward you, “Oh dear, seems like we have another little metal man here as well. You humans are like little ants, always crawling everywhere and breeding like rabbits. Truly disgusting.”

Ten craned his neck to look at you, “No! Run away!” He struggled in the dragon’s grip, but the beast only squeezed him tighter. “Go!”

“No,” you finally mustered the courage to speak. “I’m not going anywhere.” You looked over at where Johnny lay, his body still and his armor blackened, tears pricking at your eyes. “I won’t, not until you give the prince back or I die trying.”

The dragon blinked, “Suit yourself, but the second option will be your only outcome, little human.”

“Bring it, you damn lizard,” you gritted your teeth, drawing your sword. From somewhere deep inside, you felt a strange sense of calm, call it adrenaline or you just being crazy, but the sword felt familiar in your grip.

The dragon roared, releasing a stream of red hot flame at you, which you barely dodged. You rolled to your right, heading towards the tail end of the dragon, who moved clumsily as you maneuvered around him nimbly. Johnny had been too tall to dodge, but you were much smaller, littler enough to sneak in and around the dragon’s legs without his claws catching you.

Ten was screaming in agony, the dragon crushing him in his claws as you rushed to free him. Reaching one of the dragon’s hind legs, you swung your sword wildly, remembering what Johnny had shown you earlier. The dragon bellowed in pain, but that surely wasn’t enough to stop him.

“_______!,” you heard a voice yell, turning in relief to see Johnny hobbling up the mound of gold. “Keep going, I’ll distract him!” The tall knight dragged his sword behind him, bringing it down one of the dragon’s front legs. He was injured, but definitely still able to throw punches.

You nodded, the sound of your panting echoing as you got the sudden maniacal idea to climb up the scaly beast. The oversized lizard wasn’t going to put Ten anywhere near your reach, so you would just have to go get him yourself. You grabbed onto one of the dragon’s spines, hauling yourself up onto his back as Johnny distracted him. You were light enough that the dragon barely noticed, but once you got closer he surely would.

You were around his shoulders when he suddenly thrashed violently, sensing your presence, “Argh! Get off of me you disgusting little creature!” You screamed, almost falling as you managed to clutch onto a spike for dear life, the sharp spine slipping past a crack in your armor and puncturing your soft skin. You saw Ten being whipped around, his eyes darting around wildly as he struggled to not have his neck broken from whiplash.

“Ten,” you screamed, wincing from your wound as you used the dragon’s scales to shimmy across his arm towards him. “Hold on! I’m almost there!” Johnny was doing all he could to distract the beast, which turned out to be enough as you reached the prince, “I’m here, it’s okay!” You clutched onto him, realizing you didn’t know how you were going to pull him from the dragon’s grasp.

“Johnny!,” you shouted, already seeing the taller knight crawling up the beasts leg onto his back. The older boy seemed to understand, drawing his sword high above him as he reached the back to the dragon’s head. The giant lizard was scrabbling with one clawed hand behind his back, trying to grab at Johnny who managed to evade his reach. You watched in amazement as Johnny stood and brought his broadsword down upon the dragon’s neck, cutting deeply. The beast roared in agony, his wings flapping weakly and crumpling underneath him as he began to fall.

It felt like a building was collapsing from underneath you, your hands clutching onto Ten as the dragon’s grip on him loosened. The two of you free fell, landing hard on the slippery pile of gold and sliding down a ways, watching with wide eyes as the dragon collapsed beneath Johnny’s sword. The older soldier didn’t even spare a second glance at the fallen beast, dropping his weapon and stumbling over to where you and Ten had fallen. “Ten! ______!”

“Johnny,” Ten murmured, eyes still the size of dinner plates, allowing the tall knight to collapse next to the two of you, pulling you both into his broad chest. He ripped his helmet off, hair clinging to his sweaty soot covered face, “Thank god you two are okay.” He squeezed you again, but you cried out softly in pain. “______? What’s wrong?!”

“’________’?,” Ten furrrowed, confusion written on his handsome features, “Who’s _______…?”

Unable to protest, Johnny pulled your helmet off, allowing your true face to show, hair falling down from where you tied it up as he laid you gently down. You’re head felt dizzy, lifting a hand to see it covered in red as Ten looked over at you in shock. The long haired knight worked diligently to remove your armor, hand pressing onto the wound you’d received from the dragon, “Can you hear me _______?”

You gasped at the sensation, seeing stars from the pain, “Y-yep! Can definitely feel that too!”

Ten moved over to get a good look at your dirty face, brushing your hair away from your eyes, “Johnny…who is she? I thought this was-”

“She’s his twin sister,” Johnny mumbled, starting to panic as he realized you were losing a lot of blood. He rushed to take off his armor, pulling his tunic over his head to press it into your wound after lifting up your overshirt.

You managed to look up at Ten, a shy smile on your face, “I’m sorry we had to meet like this. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way-”

Ten hushed you, lifting your head into his lap, “We’ll have none of that. I’ll hear about all of this,” he gestured down your body, “later. For now, rest.” He looked angry with you, but also confused, like he wasn’t sure you were real.

“Your Highness, we need to get her back to the castle as fast as possible,” Johnny said, already lifting you easily into his arms. “She needs medical attention immediately.”

“Right,” Ten gulped, seeing the way your pretty eyes glazed over. The moment he saw them unblocked by a helmet, he realized that it really had been you the whole time. He knew something had been off, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it. Now he knew, and he still couldn’t understand why.

As Ten mounted his horse and watched Johnny cradle you against his chest, snapping his horse to attention, all he knew was that you were possibly the most beautiful and bravest girl he’d ever seen. Bloodied and sooty as you were, to him, you were still prettier than any of the princesses that he was forced to court.


You woke up in a cloud. Or at least, that’s what it felt like to you as you were stirred awake by a gentle hand. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

Your eyes cracked open, not wanting to leave the soft warm comfort of the bed, as you looked up grumpily at Johnny. You felt clean bandages wrapped around your waist, helping your injury recover. You groaned, flopping back down as he chuckled, “Get ready. Clothes are on the chair, come to the throne room when you’re ready. The prince wants to see you.”

You instantly perked up, which didn’t go unnoticed by the tall soldier as he winked at you, “Don’t keep him waiting.” You blushed, waiting for him to shut the door before you bolted over to the chair. You found a simple, yet beautiful dress made from the softest material you’d ever touched. It was a gorgeous maroon, like the color of a dried rose, beautiful and whimsical. It fit like a glove, slipping over your curves like it was meant for you. You stepped into a pair of shoes that were placed beside the chair, searching for a mirror to check your appearance. Finding one, you ran your fingers through your hair, pinching your cheeks to give them a rosy flush of color. It felt strange looking at yourself without seeing a suit of armor, your bare skin unfamiliar.

With that, you set off to find the throne room, winding through the hallways until you eventually were greeted by guards at a pair of large ornate double doors. They neatly pulled the heavy doors open, revealing a row of three thrones, lit by sunlight that filtered in through large windows. It was a beautiful and impressive room and you felt tiny compared to its grandeur.

One of the guards announced your presence and the crowd of people who had been gathered near the thrones turned towards you. There were some smiles, some furrowed brows, and some impressed smirks, and you couldn’t help but blush at the attention. In the midst of all of them stood Ten, dressed in a deep navy that complimented your maroon well, almost like they were a matching set. You turned a deeper shade of red as you approached him, curtsying clumsily as you stuttered, “Your Majesty.”

You hadn’t saw the way Ten’s eyes widened when you had walked in, a dusting of pink sprinkled across his smooth cheeks as he beheld you. A smile spread on his lips as he saw the way you bobbled when you curtsied, he wanted to have some fun with you, “______, you stole your brother’s royally sanctioned armor, impersonated him, and snuck into the royal guard.”

You looked up at him in surprise, eyes big, forgetting that you’d committed several crimes. You looked over at Johnny, who wouldn’t meet your gaze, preoccupying himself with something on the ground. “Your Highness, I can explain-”

“I’m not done,” Ten interjected, causing you to shut your mouth obediently. He took a step towards you, so close that you could have reached a hand out to touch him. To your surprise, he took your hand gently in his, lifting you up, “And, you helped save me from the very dragon that killed my grandfather.”

Your lips parted, gazing into his warm eyes as he smiled at you, perfect teeth flashing brilliantly, “Thank you, ______. You didn’t have to help me, but you did anyway. You’re the bravest girl this kingdom has ever seen and,” he looked up at you shyly between his lashes, “Possibly the most beautiful too.”

Your hand shook in his, which held onto yours securely, anchoring you to the ground, “T-thank you, Your Highness-”

“Ten,” he smirked, seeing how nervous you were by his words. “It’s just Ten, remember? Pleasure to finally meet your aquaintence properly.” He stooped down, kissing the back of your hand with lips that were softer than flower petals.

You gasped softly, trying to recover as you murmured, “_______. The pleasure is all mine.”

“Oh, I bet it is,” he winked, tugging you just a little closer and refusing to let go of your hand. He turned and beckoned a certain tall knight over, “Sir Johnny. Please join us.” The long haired knight smiled, coming to your other side and warmly taking your hand with a comforting squeeze.

Ten looked out upon the crowd, glancing proudly at you and Johnny, “My people, behold your champions! Dragon slayers by the names _______ and Johnny.”

You felt a happy warm flush wash over you as Ten and Johnny lifted your arms into the air, looking out upon the crowd and landing on a pair of eyes that mirrored your own. Time stopped, the only thing moving was your feet toward those eyes. You ran into his arms, causing him to stumble back a few feet as you whispered, “You’re here.”

“Hey there ______,” the familiar timbre of your brother’s voice chuckled, embracing you back as the crowd around you clapped.

You let the joyful tears slip down your face, “How?”

Your twin held you out at arms length, giving you a knowing look, “I think you know. Why don’t you go thank him?” He nodded to somewhere behind you, following his gaze, your eyes landed on the prince.

You don’t know what you were thinking, but perhaps you were finally letting out all the withheld emotions you’d been feeling. When you stumbled clumsily towards Ten, you somehow ended up in his arms, cupping his face as you pressed your lips sweetly to his. You broke away after a few seconds, eyes snapping open as you realized what you had done, “O-oh, Ten, I-I…”

Ten didn’t even hesitate, grinning once again about how such a courageous girl could be so shy, “Why don’t we try that again, hm?”

The dark haired prince cupped your face this time, seeming to shield you from the world as he pressed his lips to yours passionately. As the crowd cheered once again, your bodies moved flush together, knowing that he could feel your heart beating against his chest. You let out the smallest of moans, quiet enough so that only he could hear, his hand going to your waist in approval as he pulled away and gasped for air. He didn’t even take a breath, pressing kisses to your neck that tickled,'making you giggle softly, “Ten!”

“Say it again,” he whispered, looking up at you in wonder. “Please say my name.”

Ten,” you breathed against his lips, pressing one more chaste kiss there before pulling away and melting into his arms.

“Thank you for saving me, ______,” Ten murmured, stroking your hair.

“No,” you shook your head with a smile, “I think we saved each other.”

He laughed, grinning as Johnny and your brother came over to tug you two into a group hug. For the first time in a long while, you felt safe, secure, and more happy than you could even express with words.

Johnny looked down at you, raising his eyebrow with a smirk, “So, are you still willing to become my apprentice, Lady ______?”

You gaped at him, looking over at Ten who grinned, “I might have made you the first female knight on the Royal Guard.”

“You won’t be a lady for long though,” Ten continued, lacing his fingers with yours shyly. “I was thinking you could be more along the lines of my princess?”

You laughed, pecking his cheek, “I’d like that very much, only if you’re my prince though.”

Nico’s appearance must have given away how bad he felt with the look of total pity that Will was giving him. This was one of those ‘panic attack’ looks. The ones Will gave him when he had total meltdowns, woke up with a start from nightmares at all hours of the evening, or on the days that he missed Bianca so much that it physically hurt.

Truthfully, this whole ordeal was nothing compared to what he had been through.

“Am I dying?” Nico finally croaked out, peeking over his covers to watch Will pace about their tiny, apartment sized kitchen.  “I’ve got to be dying. You’re giving me that look.”

Nico had gone into work pretty determined. Will was working an early morning shift so he hadn’t bothered his boyfriend when getting ready to go to the hospital, which happened to work out in the Italian’s favor. He hadn’t been feeling the best the night before, and when he woke up with a vertigo-inducing headache and a fever that made his skin tingle, he was, unfortunately, not surprised. Nico probably would have stayed at work all day had it not been for Reyna, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t glad that she’d made him go home. He’d passed out on his desk only an hour into the work day, and the rest of his coworkers in the office had come to the consensus that letting Nico have his way wasn’t worth getting the flu.

Will had woken him gently, a couple of hours later, Nico’s work bag slung over his shoulder, still wearing his scrubs. He’d come straight from work when Reyna had called him.

That was how they’d gotten here. Nico, curled up on the couch under a heavy quilt, Will searching for the proper cold and flu medication.

“Stop being melodramatic.” Will called halfheartedly, peering over his shoulders. “Can you drink liquid medicine?”

“I’m not being melodramatic.” Nico argued, wrinkling his nose. “And god, no. Who do you think I am?”

“A child, apparently.”

“The look, Will.” Nico reiterated, coughing roughly into the sleeve of Will’s pale orange hoodie from the camp that they’d met at so many years ago.

“I’m giving you the nervous boyfriend look, Nico.” Will said, finally returning to his side with a couple of pills and a water bottle that was slick with condensation already. Nico ignored the pills in favor of pressing the damp bottle to his face, trying to cool off. He shivered involuntarily, but the feeling was definitely more good than bad.

“Water bottle is for drinking, sunshine.” Will said, nudging his shoulder. “I’ll get you a damp washcloth in a second, take your medicine.”

Nico gave him a halfhearted glare, uncapping the water with moderate difficulty and taking a couple of slow sips before swallowing the pills. “Are you trying to put me to sleep?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. “Isn’t this the drowsy stuff?”

“It is.” Will admitted, planting a quick kiss on Nico’s forehead before walking briskly back to the kitchen. “But it’ll be the easiest on your stomach and it’ll probably work the best.”

Nico closed his eyes for a brief moment, resting his feverish cheek back on the water bottle, turning it when it seemed to get warm. “I don’t like the stuff that makes me drowsy.”

“You would’ve slept soon anyway.” When Will spoke again, his voice was close, and Nico’s eyes snapped open just in time to see the couch dip as he sat on the other edge. “I think it’s the flu, your fever is pretty high and your symptoms coincide pretty well…” He handed over a damp washcloth, but the water bottle had just left him feeling clammy and he just rested the cloth in his hands.

“You’re giving me the look again.”

“This is probably going to have you down for a week or two.” Will said, mouth falling into a frown with a gentle slope. “It’ll probably only get worse. I know you’ve gotta be feeling terrible.”

Nico gave a tired shrug, gathering the blanket a bit closer and sighing. “I know. At least I can do some work from home.”

“Not unless your fever is under 100.” Will argued, scooting around on his end of the couch and then holding both hands out when he seemed content. “Come here.”

Nico was already over feeling guilty about exposing Will to any germs. He’d probably caught it off of him, anyways, and the blond had an impeccable immune system. Thus was the life of dating a doctor, Nico supposed.

Without much hesitance, the Italian shifted around, his already sore muscles aching in protest. His crawl over to the other side of the couch was graceless, and if he felt a little better, maybe he’d have the energy to care. The energy definitely wasn’t there now, though, and Nico settled carefully into Will’s arms, stretching out between his legs and letting his boyfriend fix his blankets for him.

Will pressed a feather light kiss to the top of his head, giving him a very gentle squeeze. “Wanna watch some TV? You might not get sleepy for a little while.” Nico gave a short nod, and Will draped one arm around the shorter man’s waist, the other scrolling through Netflix. “How about Hercules?”

“Only if you promise not to sing…” Nico muttered back, already feeling himself growing tired. His face felt hot, now, his breath probably too warm on Will’s chest, but if the blond was bothered, he didn’t say anything.

“I’m just going to pretend that statement didn’t offend me and start the movie.” Will hummed, Nico chuckling tiredly as he felt the vibration through his boyfriend’s chest.

Nico could feel the heat behind his eyelids, which was motivation enough to keep his gaze trained on the television. Being close to Will wasn’t suffocating though, at the moment, but that could have just been because of the chills that plagued him everywhere else. His headache was already fading, thankfully, and the careful pressure at the small of his back made him feel safe more than anything else.

Will lifted one hand to card gently through Nico’s hair, dragging his nails lightly to ebb away the remaining ache, and Nico found himself beginning to unwind.

Nico dozed off a half hour into the movie, just when Hercules met Meg. Not before he’d been able to giggle deliriously at the flaming blue depiction of Hades, however. Will hummed gently along to the soundtrack as the movie played through, remembering vaguely that Nico had mentioned that hearing Will helped relax him. He even ignored it when Nico definitely started drooling on his shirt.

All in the name of love, he guessed.


Originally posted by logansleeps

The morning after your first date with Harry, you’d gotten a frantic call from him. He’d actually woken you, and later when you checked your call log you saw he’d rang at 5 a.m.

“Hullo?” you muttered, barely able to function through the sleepiness.

“[Y/N], sorry, I know it’s early and I’m sorry to wake you.” He sounded nervous, worried really. But there was also a twist of anger in his words that helped you pull yourself awake.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up in your bed and holding the phone closer to your ear.

“It’s just—I’m just—fuck,” he stuttered. “I’m just so sorry.”

Keep reading

The Tale of A Jealous Dwarf. [Kili x Reader.]

Part 1: here (PART TWO TO: Imagine: Kili getting jealous when he see’s an elf, - in Rivendell-, flirting with you.)

Originally posted by anunexpectedhotdwarf

Not my gif. Gif credit goes to the amazing creators!

Requested by: Anonymous.

Based OnHi. I just read that jealous Kili imagine you wrote and I was wondering if you could please do a follow up where maybe you see him walk off distressed as he does at the end of the first one and follows him to see if he’s okay and he confesses.

A/N: Sure, lovely! Thank you for requesting and I hope that you enjoy what I’ve come up with. Sorry that I changed some of your request, my imagination just started going full speed and I couldn’t stop myself from creating this piece as it is. Nevertheless, please enjoy, anon! - Kat

Part 1: here

Pairing’s: Kili x Reader.

Word Count: 1,916. (oops.)

Warning’s: Jealous Kili, angry Kili, possessive Kili, sweet Kili, fluffy Kili. Kili being rude to the reader. (Let me know if I forgot anything.)

Disclaimer: Kili and any other characters from the LOTR and The Hobbit universe do not belong to me, but they do belong to Tolkien.

Irked and irate, Kili, the Prince of Erebor, traipsed and trudged from his company’s sleeping quarters with a fierce expression dormant upon his complexion. He wandered with blazing anger through the city of Rivendell, content upon avoiding you at all costs.

A permanent scowl was carved upon his complexion, darkening his gorgeous brown eyes substantially. He rounded the corner harshly, his cloak giving a stridulous hiss behind him as it flapped and fanned with his feverish pace. Suddenly he froze in place, becoming as rigid as the frozen stone in Erebor’s ruined halls.

Your orbs caught a glimmer of hasty movements from the corner of your eye, to which caused you to avert your (e/c) orbs from the handsome elf. Distracted and astonished, your gaze found itself upon a fuming dwarf. The rage within Kili’s eyes were inferno’s, scorching hot, broiling you to a vibrant lobster red. Though before you were able to utter a single word, the prince had whipped around and began stalking at full speed away from you. He would rather much take his brothers unrelented teasing than have you witness his outburst.

“Excuse me, kind sir; but it seems as though I have to deal with a temperamental dwarf.” You sighed tiredly, sending an apologetic gaze the elf’s way.

“Not a problem at all,” the elf began, his brows furrowed, “dwarves are definitely a handful.” There was disdain within the elf’s voice, contempt for the dark haired prince who had rudely interrupted the two of you.

Keep reading

REQUESTED:  Credence wants to give the reader the love and affection that he never got.

Warnings: Descriptions of scars a little bit, and some mean friends, but that is all

Word Count: 1,396

A/N: this was just vague enough that i got carried away, my bad

It was cute. Everything about Credence was cute. He had spent most of his life being neglected and largely uncared for in general, so when he started dating you, he became hyper-attentive to your needs. When you were cold, he was up and getting you a blanket before you had the chance to get it yourself; when you were sad, he made you tea and sat next to you and held your hand until it passed; when you were tired, he went out of his way to do the chores you had planned to do yourself so that you could stay in bed a few extra hours and rest; when you fell (which was often, because you were a complete clutz), he was helping you up and giving you a pack of ice to make sure it didn’t hurt too badly.

You knew that it was a visceral reaction he had toward how he had been treated in his own life, prior to meeting Newt, Tina, yourself, and the rest of the group. Everyone understood this—that Credence wanted to give you everything he had been deprived of in his life. The rest of them had been somewhat shocked at Credence’s behavior with you at first, since he was all-of-a-sudden very confident and sure of what he was doing with you, but you knew better, after all of the conversations you had had with him at night, when the both of you opened up about everything. He wanted you to know how much he cared for you, so he gave you all of the attention, everything he would have wanted in his life had it been attainable. It simultaneously warmed and broke your heart.

However, your other friends did not understand this side of Credence. They didn’t understand his constant worry that you didn’t feel like you were important to him when clearly you knew that you were; they didn’t understand why he was always asking you if you were okay or if you needed anything; they didn’t understand why Credence had to know if there was something he could do for you at any given time. Mostly they didn’t know Credence.

So when you got sick, it all came to a head. You were lying on the couch, feeling like you were wilting on the couch across from your lit fireplace, and Credence was in the kitchen preparing soup for you and bringing a wet cloth to apply to your feverish forehead. The illness wasn’t too terrible, but you were definitely glad to have Credence there to help you without your having to ask and feeling like a bother; however, you had forgotten to cancel plans you had made with your friends, so they showed up, knocking on your door and ready to take you out. You were about to get up to get it when Credence called “I’ll get it! Don’t even think about getting up!” from the kitchen before scurrying out to open the door, pressing the cloth to your head on his way by.

He came face to face with three of your friends and greeted them politely. Clearly, you could tell from the couch, they were a bit miffed. “We’re here to take Y/N out.”

Credence had filled out since what happened in the subway, gaining weight and looking healthier all around, and his hair had grown out a great deal. You hated watching him shrink under the scrutiny of others, the way he was doing a little bit now. “She’s—Well, she’s sick now, you see. I don’t think she’ll be able to go out. S-She’s been running a fever all day.”

You hated that your friends never even tried to hide their disdain for him, which was why you hadn’t been hanging out with them as much, favoring Credence’s and Co.’s presence in your life. Maybe it was because you hadn’t paid them much attention or maybe they were just worse people than you thought, but either way, one of your friends looked at him and said, “I’m sure she’s just fine. She can come out with us tonight if she wants. And frankly, you don’t need to hover around her as much as you do. It’s controlling and honestly pretty possessive. Let her make up her own mind.”

At that, you got up on shaky legs and aching muscles and wobbled your way over to the door, taking Credence’s flinching frame against you, hoping to high heaven you wouldn’t get him sick. “Listen to me.” Your voice was much weaker than you anticipated, so you had to speak up, causing your voice to crack and Credence to look down at you with so much concern you were almost blinded with it. “He is just taking care of me. I am sick. And frankly, none of you are welcome here anymore. You’re being rude as hell when he’s just taking care of me. Please, get out of here. I won’t be going out with you tonight or any other night.”

You slammed the door with some force, ignoring their cries of outrage, and nearly fell from the exertion, and you felt a little embarrassed that Credence had to all but carry you back to the couch, where he promptly covered you with a blanket and returned the cold cloth to your forehead. “Thank you, Credence,” you mumbled as he made his way back to the kitchen to retrieve your soup silently.

When he returned to your side, he placed the soup within easy reaching distance to you and sat warily on the floor in front of the couch and right by your face. You reached a shaky arm out to him so that you could stroke your fingers gently through his hair. You could tell he wanted to say something to you, but you knew you would have to wait for it. He didn’t keep you waiting long. “Am I—Y/N, am I controlling? Or possessive?” His voice was so small and worried that your heart broke upon hearing it. He had never been unsure with you, and you didn’t want him to start. “Am I—Am I like my mother?” His voice broke into a hoarse whisper, and you noticed the way the scars on his hands were almost glaring in the light where they rested on his lap.

You reached down and took one in your hand, pressing kisses to the raised, puckered lines there. “No, Credence. Your mother…stifled you, hurt you, manipulated you, made you out to be whoever she wanted you to be, and then hurt you some more anyway. You…take care of me, and protect me, and look after me, all so that I can be the person that I am. You take care of me so that I can grow. You are good, Credence, and they were so wrong.” Your voice began to fade by the end of your monologue, fatigued from your sickness, but Credence was hanging on every word.  You could see it.

He rested his hand over your face and kissed your forehead gently as he rose to rest on his knees in front of you. “Thank you, Y/N. I guess I know that. It’s just… My worst fear is to be—to be someone that was forged out of her likeness.” His eyes were lowered to the ground, and you were filled for so much love for him in that moment that you could hardly stand it.

“Credence, you saw your mother. You knew who she was and who she wanted you to be, and you made yourself in contrast with that. You were forged out of your own desires to be different from her. You are your own.”

Credence looked up to you then, a smile on his face. You would never be used to how beautiful he was, even as the silvery pink scars glinted in the fire light, casting shadows on his otherwise pale skin. “I am my own. And I love you.” The confidence in his voiced moved you deeply—he had always been so brave.

“I love you too, Credence.”

“Now I’m going to go draw you a bath, and you should get some rest, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes affectionately as he stepped out of the room to take care of you, as he always did and as he always liked to do.


@aya-fay @dontbeamenacetotheforce @randomrainbownobodyuniverse @hestia-sama

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Wrong Place, Wrong Time Part 3: The Road to Recovery

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic), Bobby x Reader (paternal)

Trigger Warnings: talks about kidnapping, talks about rape, briefly mentions murder, mentions torture, language, nightmares (not discussed, just that they have them), shock, I think that’s it. Angst

Word Count: 2952

Summary: You get back to Bobby’s already starting to feel better with the sensation of being home. You share a moment with Dean that shows progress in your recovery. Bobby and Dean leave for a quick hunt reluctantly, leaving Sam behind with. The younger Winchester, who mind as well be your brother takes care of you, and you begin to feel like your old self again. Is he able to get you to talk? Is anyone? Read and find out. (Sorry this summary sucks. I’m tired and my brain doesn’t feel like trying.)

A/N: Hey y’all here is the third and final part of wrong place wrong time. Sorry it’s late, I meant to post it earlier but I spent most the day helping take care of my feverish 2-year-old nephew. He needed his auntie. Anyway, loved writing tis despite the dark themes and hope you enjoy reading it. As always feedback is always encouraged and always wanted and hate will not be tolerated. Take your nasty opinions elsewhere. Read away my SPN loves.


Part 1: The Incident 

Part 2: The Aftermath 

Originally posted by jennyandmoose

Originally posted by whoeverx3

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Branches - Wicked Dragon Queen family

for @geeky-galpal who gave me all the Zelena thoughts last night. Lily and Zelena talk about Regina and Maleficent. 

also on Ao3

She thought if her sister fell in love again, it would be someone heroic: noble, foolish, endearing, disgustingly good. 

Not a villain. Especially not a villain who already has a child who happens to look a heck of a lot like her sister. Not that anyone else seems capable of noticing. 

Her little sister hasn’t, of course. Never really thinks anything through. 

It started when Regina was sick. Tonsillitis, which is funny really. Her foolish little sister gets thrown against walls, beaten to a pulp being damned heroic against whatever villain the stupid town has managed to antagonize this week, but it’s tonsillitis that makes her stay home. Ridiculous.

Of course, she doesn’t even tell Zelena. No, she hears about her sister being sick third hand at the diner from the not-so-Charmings and her nephew (who is still a bit jumpy because she did try to strangle him last year.) Can’t blame him for that. Still haven’t figured out how to apologize properly. Sorry, really hated your mum at the time didn’t know we were actually sisters who cared about each other. Blame grandma. She’s a piece of work that one.

“Well, it makes sense. Maleficent can’t catch strep throat.” Snow makes it sound perfectly logical that a dragon makes a good nursemaid and Zelena’s relieved there’s no space at her table so she can’t be expected to sit there.

Zelena rolls her eyes and shifts baby Robin to the other arm so she can eat. Bloody diner only has two high chairs and little Prince Neal basically has one on reserve. 

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Stressed (Platonic Hamilsquad x Reader)

FINALLY have another fic for you guys! I’m not super happy with the beginning, to be completely honest, but I think it’s decent at least. Hope you all enjoy!

Words: 1781 (Yorktown???)

Warnings: Little bit of language?

Prompt: Worried!Hamilsquad (focus on Alex and Lafayette) worried about reader, reader hasn’t been eating enough lately due to stress of school and they take notice and cook for her and try to get her to eat but she is “too busy”

These were the kind of days where you felt that you needed far more than twenty four hours. College was always portrayed as this glamorous thing, a whirlwind of parties and freedom and growing up and throwing some academics in on the side. In reality, it was a lot less fun and a lot more work. If you were the type who didn’t actually care about your grades, then, yes, constant parties were a viable option.

You did care about your grades though. You were determined to make the most of your education. You had goals and dreams and you wanted to make them come true. So, while others were out having fun on a Friday night, you were sitting in your bedroom of the apartment you shared with your four best friends, your foot bouncing impatiently under your desk as you stared at the mountain of homework you still needed to do.

The amount of class you’d missed when you’d had the flu last week wasn’t helping. You had actually tried to go to class, only for Lafayette to catch you and carry your feverish body back to bed. He’d then chosen to stay and watch you and make sure you didn’t try to escape again. If you were being honest, it was probably better that you’d stayed in bed, but now you had finals looming on the horizon, too many papers due, and an unbelievable amount of material to catch up on.

You groaned, putting your head in your hands and staring at your laptop without really seeing the screen. Crashes and laughter from beyond your closed door signaled the return of your apartment mates, but you ignored them completely, your nails biting into your palms as you tried to keep your head about all of this. Come on, Y/N. Focus, damn it!

Your fingers danced uselessly over the keyboard, your cursor blinking impatiently at you and your essay still two thousand words short of the requirement. Panic welled up in your chest, your rationality fading as the hour grew steadily later. You were never going to get caught up. You were going to fail your finals. You weren’t going to be able to graduate. You were…


You jumped a little, jerking around in your chair to see Alex in your doorway, a plate of food in his hand. Apparently you’d been staring at your essay for longer than you realized—it seemed as though they’d just gotten home, but one or more of them had already had time to make dinner.

“I know you’re working so I thought I’d bring this in here for you.” He crossed the room, hesitating as he looked for a place that wasn’t entirely covered in papers to set the plate.

“It looks like your desk is the eye of a hurricane right now.” Alex observed casually, giving in and putting the plate down on your math textbook.

“Yeah,” you muttered distractedly. I’m too busy for this right now.

Alex squeezed your shoulder once before exiting the room and closing the door as quietly as he could. Grateful as you were for your friend’s support, you were still relieved when he was gone. You were having enough trouble thinking as it was without someone else around to distract you.

In the next half hour, you managed to write a few more sentences, your essay deteriorating further into complete bullshit the further you went. You sighed heavily. Maybe it was time to work on something else.

The desk chair was beginning to get uncomfortable after staying in it so long, so you stood, throwing your math notebook onto your bed instead. Reaching for your textbook, you remembered the plate of dinner Alex had left you, now cold. Damn it.

Oh well. Stressed and tired as you were, you didn’t really feel hungry anyway. Feeling guilty even though they would never know, you tipped the contents of the plate into the trash can beside your desk and then laid the empty glassware on the floor, freeing your textbook and settling down as comfortably as you could on your bed. You blew out a breath, steeling yourself to attempt teaching yourself a week of missed math concepts out of the textbook. A headache was forming behind your eyes, and you squeezed them shut for a heartbeat.

“Y/N.” Someone was shaking you gently, and you opened your eyes slowly to turn a blurry, tired gaze on John Laurens’ face. “Hey. You fell asleep on your textbook.”

He tugged it out gently from under your face, and you winced when you felt the massive dent it had left in your cheek. “Damn it.”

John turned to set your textbook on your desk, and seeing the pile of insanity already there brought reality rushing back. You sat bolt upright, ignoring the rush of dizziness accompanying the motion. “Shit, John, what time is it?”

“First of all, breathe, it’s Saturday, you’re not late for anything.” He scolded you gently. “Second of all, it’s just after ten.”

Ten?” you screeched, your heart beginning to race. “I was supposed to be up hours ago, I have so much stuff to finish, my essay is total trash and I haven’t even—” you broke off when he sat on the bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Breathe, Y/N. You’re going to be just fine. How about you take a break for a little while?”

“I don’t have time, John!” You snapped, feeling a little guilty when you saw his mildly hurt expression. “Sorry…I’m just a little stressed.”

“We’d noticed.”

You looked up to see Hercules in your doorway, watching you with concern evident on his face. “Y/N, you’re more than capable of getting all of that done.” He waved vaguely at the disorganized mountain that was your desk. “You just need to take a break. Seriously.”

Your mouth opened to protest, but Hercules held his hand up before you could get the words out. “No arguments. I need your help anyway, Alex is refusing to get in a dress.”

A yelp of protest could be heard from outside, and a giggle escaped you. You smiled, feeling the weight begin to leave your shoulders. “What?”

Somebody needs to be the model for the dress I have to design.” The charismatic fashion major pouted theatrically, and you faked a groan, climbing off of the bed and crossing to stand next to him.

“Fine. But it better not take too long.”

Hercules’ eyes lit up in relief and he practically dragged you to his bedroom-turned-tailor shop, leaving you to scream in protest. “And it better be a cute dress, damn it!”

In no time at all, Hercules had you installed on a circular pedestal, patterned fabric draped over you in a one shoulder sundress. You’d roped Lafayette into bringing you your Chemistry notes while you were immobilized by pins, and you were scanning over some of the formulas while Hercules knelt behind you, pinning up the hem. It was more work, yes, but doing it while being your friend’s emergency dressmaker’s doll had definitely made the atmosphere lighter. They were right, you had needed a break.

Alexander walked into the room, talking cheerily, but you didn’t register his words. Your ears were ringing, and your earlier dizziness had returned, stars dancing in front of your vision.

“Y/N? Y/N!” Alex was suddenly gripping your shoulder while you shook your head, trying to clear it. Hercules pulled the half-pinned dress off of you quickly, instead wrapping a robe around your shoulders as you stumbled forward slightly.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” Alex asked gently, his arm going around your waist to hold you up.

“Just dizzy.” you mumbled, his voice sounding very far away.

He immediately swept you up into his arms, relocating you to Hercules’ bed. “This is what happens when you work too hard, Y/N. Do you want some water?”

You shrugged, still fighting to remain conscious, and Alex sighed heavily, leaving momentarily–presumably to get you a glass of water.   

“Have you eaten, mon ami?”

Lafayette had taken Alex’s place sitting next to you, and was watching you with a concerned expression.

You shook your head slowly. “Well not since lunch yesterday…”

“Lunch yesterday?” Alex walked back in, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I even brought you dinner, Y/N, jesus!”

“I know…” you protested, drinking some of the water he offered you. “I don’t eat when I’m stressed.”

Lafayette muttered something in French that you didn’t quite catch, but you were pretty sure it had included ‘idiot’. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, Y/N. What about waffles? And sausages, if Laurens didn’t eat them all.”

You snorted at that, still feeling a little weak but much better now that you were getting rehydrated. “Sure, Laf, sounds fine.” You still didn’t feel very hungry, but you knew he’d never rest until he felt that he’d properly taken care of you. Besides, you knew you must’ve scared everyone half to death almost passing out like that.

Mere minutes later, you were sitting at the kitchen table, the largest plate of waffles you’d possibly ever seen in your life sitting in front of you. Lafayette had gone to the trouble of putting fresh fruit on top of them, and lining small sausage links all around the plate.

You sighed, poking at them with your fork. “Looks great, Laf, but I can’t eat all this! Besides, I’ve still got to finish…” you trailed off with Alex’s deadly glare fixed on you. Was this how his “opponents” felt in their class’s mock debates?

“Y/N, I swear to god, if you say one more thing about the work you’ve got to do, I will go in there and turn your homework into a goddamned bonfire.”

You rolled your eyes, carefully taking a bite of waffles to placate him. As soon as the fluffy food touched your tongue, though, you realized just how hungry you were, and began devouring the plate as quickly as you could without choking. You heard John give a sort of relieved laugh, squeezing your shoulder, and Lafayette looked incredibly pleased with your reaction to his cooking.

“Seriously, though, Y/N.” Alex spoke again. “I know how much you care about your GPA. But you need to remember to eat!”

“Mon ami,” Lafayette leaned across the counter, looking at you steadily. “Promise us you won’t let yourself get this stressed out again without telling us.”

“We’re your best friends.” John put in.

You smiled, pausing with a forkful of strawberries halfway to your mouth. “I will. Thanks, guys. Love you.”

“We love you too.”

❝The Metal Pacifier.❞

Ship: Alpha!Bucky Barnes/Omega!Reader

Word Count:

Mentions of Bucky’s recovery, fluff

Anonymous asked:
 “ OMGG the ABO thing with Steve was so cute do you think you could do one with Bucky??? I’m not sure about prompt and stuff but just really cute fluff?? ”

The child stares up at him with wide eyes, mouth open in wonder and a brown tuft of fuzzy hair resting on top of her head. There’s bright blue eyes staring back at icy blues, and Bucky can’t help but quirk a smile as she blinks and then lets her small fists close in the fabric of his hoodie. A soft noise escapes her lips that sounds something between contentment and a fuss, and he lets out a soft chuckle as he pulls her closer and lets his flesh arm tuck underneath her bottom to keep her safely there.

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In which I pretend that polyamory is the solution to all romantic problems. shout out to @gnomemother for the moral support.

Summary: Shaun Gilmore has given all he had to give. Vox Machina take care of him.

Vox Machina had returned from Marquette, exhausted but victorious with a new vestige in their possession. They had been away for over a week, their adventures in Ank’Harel more taxing than they’d originally thought. Eager to get some rest before they began planning their course of action in Draconia, they went directly to the castle.

They arrived to find Allura and Drake in the atrium, having just returned themselves. They briefly told her about their adventure and the acquisition of the new vestige, but in the middle of their conversation, Allura paused, eyes closed.

“Oh dear.”

“What’s wrong?” Vex asked her.

“There appear to be some… fluctuations in the barrier over the city; it’s not nearly as strong as it used to be. Gilmore must be struggling with the barrier.” She began to walk toward one of the castle’s sitting rooms. “Could you go check on him? Tell him I’ll take over the barrier for now.”

They quickly navigated the streets of Whitestone, following the path toward Gilmore’s house in tense silence.

They had to knock several times at the door of Shaun’s temporary residence, growing concerned after the second and third knock went unanswered. Finally, after the fourth knock, a weak “Come in,” sounded from inside. Vax entered first, swiftly scanning the visible rooms for Gilmore, and the rest of Vox Machina followed behind him. They found him slumped in an armchair in the sitting room with his hair in disarray and a feverish look in his eye. Nevertheless, he gave them a weak but bright smile when he saw them.

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anonymous asked:

Could you do a rfa headcanon of MC being pregnant and loosing the baby... i know its a bit sad but i want to know.. also sorry if i have bad grammar.

first of all your english is absolutely fine anon. as someone who is not a native english speaker either, I would never judge someone else. you were dedicated enough to learn another language and that’s to be celebrated. ୧ᗒᴥᗕ୨

second, I had no idea how to include Jaehee in this prompt so I left her out I’M SORRY (๏ ʖ̯๏)

warning(s): sensitive topic matter (please take care if you’re easily triggered), bucketful of angst~


  • Feels like someone has taken a hot white iron and shoved it through his heart. Is likely in disbelief for a good while, refusing to believe something so awful could happen to you both. 
  • Crumples to the ground with tears in his eyes, harshly pulling on his hair to lessen the pain in his heart. An almost feverish chant of, “Why, why, why?” spilling from his lips.
  • Takes some time to pull himself together. Is desperate to see you straightaway—not only because he’s worried about you but also because he just can’t be alone right now. Can’t.
  • When he sees you—so pale and fragile, and hurting—immediately wraps his arms around you and holds you to him with heartbreaking desperation.
  • You mourn together, most of the time quite literally holding each other together when pain gets too much.
  • Kisses your tears away when you wake up in the middle of the night crying. Always whispers how brave and amazing you are, and how their baby will always be alive in their hearts. How proud she/he would be to have a mother as amazing as you.
  • It takes time and gentle understanding between you both but you slowly heal your heart. One night you’re both cuddling when you quietly tell him that you’re ready to try again. He looks at you with such warmth that it melts your heart, and you know that you’re going to love this boy forever when he grins at you tenderly and says, “I’m so proud of you.


  • NO. Just NO. Refuses to believe that the wonderful little bundle of joy was gone. Refuses to believe that all the baby clothes, all the toys you bought so happily together were for nothing. Refuses to believe that all those hours he spent listening to that tiny heartbeat will now be just hollow memories. 
  • It’s not fair. For the first time in his life, he hates fate with a burning passion for taking something so precious to you both away. Storms away to cool off—doesn’t work.
  • Feels like he can’t breath; there is loud buzzing in his head and he just loses it. Ends up smashing his fist into a wall over and over again in anguish. Barely feels the burning pain because physical pain could never be worse than the pain in his heart. For once he doesn’t care about his looks because it’s the last thing on his mind.
  • If he’s bad, you’re worse. The loss takes a huge toll on you. You barely talk and refuse any physical comfort from him. It’s a very hard period in your life. Zen doesn’t know what to do when he can’t even hold your hand anymore or comfort you when he hears you quietly crying at night.
  • Pushes through his own anguish because he needs to be there for you above all else. Cannot lose you as well.  
  • It takes a long time, and things get worse before they get better. It starts small. Like you sit with him on the same sofa one day. A week later, you accidentally fall asleep against his shoulder. He’s so happy that he almost wraps you in his arms and doesn’t let you go. But instead he thinks of you first, and wrapping his arms around your body takes you to bed before tucking you in.
  • Kisses your forehead with all the gentleness in the world, “I’ll wait for you however long you need.” Thinks you’re asleep but you hear him.
  • Next day you are sitting beside him when you silently grasp his barely healed hand and give it a timid squeeze. He doesn’t say anything to you, or you him, but when you glance at him from the corner of your eye you find him smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks.


  • Tries to rationalize it. Surely someone made a mistake and is to blame for this…this unfamiliar agony in his chest— Becomes a living nightmare of ice and fury trying to find responsible parties.
  • Refuses to see you at first because he feels like he failed you. Failed you and your unborn child in worst way possible. Cannot accept the fact that it was nothing more than a cruel twist of fate and no one is to blame.
  • Ends up calling V in the middle of the night, half-drunk and just so desperate for relief from this pain, “Did I do this to her? The stress, the parties… Is it my fault our baby is gone?
  • The miscarriage results in some health complications, which leaves you housebound most of the time. Elizabeth 3rd, as if sensing your misery, is constantly by your side, purring and curling up beside you. Jumin often catches you two napping together. He is both envious and grateful.
  • One day he comes back late from work only to find you crying into your pillow. Feels sick at the sight of you in such pain and is about to walk away when Elizabeth 3rd raises her head and gives him a look as if to say, “Do something.” His heart is pounding but he approaches anyway. Only manages to take off his suit jacket before he pulls you in his arms, wrapping you tightly in his embrace.
  • You pour out your heart, voice chocked and harsh as you tell him how badly it hurts to lose your baby before he pulls back and kisses your wet cheek. He runs his long digits through your hair slowly, soothing your pain with his soft kisses on your skin. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,” he whispers between the hollow of your throat and the slope of your nose. You sleep calmly that night, and he feels the pain in his chest fade just a little.
  • With only best care, you recover quickly physically. Emotional recovery takes longer. But Jumin is true to his world and stays by your side. You get better eventually but every once in a while he still notices that look in your eyes. When he sees it he just wraps you in his arms and lays a lingering kiss on your brow and reminds you, “I’m here. I’ll always be here.


  • It’s twins. And he—he just can’t handle it…he shuts down.
  • Tries to forget everything by locking himself away. Goes on the longest self-destructive binge possible. Wants to numb every part of his body because all that happiness, all that pure joy and anticipation has turned into agony and he just can’t take it anymore.
  • All he can remember is you two laying together on a bed as he slowly traced circles on your stomach, smiling every time he felt one of the babies kick. And the flutter in his heart when he looked up at you and found you looking at him with such love that it took his breath away. “They’re going to be beautiful,” he tells you with setting sun making you glow. “Just like their dad.” That makes you laugh as you push him off the bed.
  • Some days he ends up crumpled in the corner of the room for hours just sobbing as he tries—and fails—to ease the ache in his heart. Sometimes he wishes he could forget you and the babies so it would hurt less. Hates himself even more for even daring to think that.  
  • Saeran finally has enough and literally decks him across the face, angrily reminding him that he isn’t the only one to have lost something precious. Practically drags him to the hospital and shoves him into a random room, “That’s the love of your life in there, hurting, so you better do something about it.”
  • When he sees you, you’re pale and sickly looking. Those dark bruises under your eyes make his heart hurt even more if possible. He feels like shit. Because he had never thought about how much worse it would be for you.
  • You wake up sometime later and immediately tear up at seeing him. You’re a bubbling mess as you try and explain how you thought that he didn’t want you anymore and blamed you for losing their babies. He only grasps your hand tightly in his, kissing every finger carefully, “Forgive me. I—I never thought. I was selfish. I only thought about my pain. I’ll always want you. Every day, forever, okay?

anonymous asked:

“Is it getting worse?”“Mmm…yeah.” Klance, either is injured/sick preferably when they're in a really shitty situation to begin with

(whispers) how about both. warning for mild description of infection, vomiting, and talk of death. 

Lance’s hands shake as they try clumsily to screw the cap back on the water bottle, and once it’s on he almost trips over his own feet trying to rush out of the creek bed. His breath comes in puffs as he races back down the path he’d marked yesterday with subtle notches in the tree trunks. The multitude of stringy roots and fallen branches that break through the dry soil almost trip him again, but he nimbly catches himself and slows his pace a little. He can’t afford injure himself further. 

The woods are still quiet and tranquil when the cave mouth comes into view. Lance quickly but carefully moves aside the big mess of branches and leaves that conceal it and crawls inside. His shoulder gives a twinge of pain, but he ignores it, just like he’s been ignoring it for days. 

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Noona | M

Jimin | 2.3K Words


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Of Duvets and Fairy-tales

A/N: I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop myself from writing this…Ineeded some fluff in my life, and fluffy illness is one of my weaknesses so,here you go. I swear one day I’ll write something really serious. Also, the endingof this…prepare yourselves I didn’t mean to even do it. It just HAPPENED OKAY.

Title: Of Duvets and Fairy-tales.

Genre: Pure fluff/fluffy illness

Description: Based off of a tweet by Dan. The amountof travelling and work Dan has done finally catches up with him, leading Phil to look after him when he wakes up ill.

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