#/i had a dream last night and when i opened my eyes

[souldevouringmentality]

This post reminded me of my dream I had last night.

In this dream I had fallen asleep after having a sleepover. I woke up to complete darkness and everyone was gone. As I looked around the room I saw my open door.

Behind my door stood 3 or 4 vampires. Not the good kind. The kind that are skin and bones, pale blue, white eyes, sharp teeth, and have no hair. And I mean NO hair.

They just stared at me and I stared at them. I felt complete horror and could not look away. A creeping dread came over me. I knew if I didn't move to defend myself in some way I would surely die.

At that moment my brain reminded me that I kept a flashlight next to me bed. Now in real life this is not true but my brain believed it so anyway.

I quickly grabbed the light hoping that if I was fast enough they would not attack me when I looked away. I went to point it at them, turning it on as I did.

It did not turn on. It didn't turn on because it was never a flashlight. The whole time it had been a chicken leg.

In that exact moment I realized that I was well and truly fucked. I was going to die. As I stared death in the face and felt the truest horror I would ever feel for the rest of my life I woke up.

And then I laughed myself to death about how I tried to fight off evil vampires with A. FUCKING. CHICKEN. LEG.

Lol

vampire hunter? no i said vampire HAUNTER. this jerk sucked all my blood out so now i spend my afterlife knocking over shelves and scaring off potential victims and just making the castle generally pretty cold

[vampiresbloodx]

arcane characters react to you flirting with them;

characters included; mel medarda, caitlyn, vi, sevika.

a/n: it ended up being more of a confession for the most part :q

Mel medarda;

Mel is used to men hitting on her all the time. It happens more than you think and more than she likes. Even during times where it's less appropriate. When Mel first met you, she thought you were strange, in a good way, she liked you instantly. You were friends with Viktor. You had your wits and humor, she liked talking with you and spending time with you when she was supposed to be doing her work.

She couldn't help but linger around you more, you probably thought she was being a creep, but you didn't seem to mind her presence, in fact, you welcomed it.

The night she wanted to come and see you, you had surprised her with your own visit.

"hi-"

"hello-"

you both paused, smiling to yourselves as she stiffs a chuckle in amusement.

you stood there, biting down on your bottom lip.

"mel-"

"yes?" mel said, giving you her full attention.

"I think... you're the most beautiful woman ive ever met, i know you probably get that a lot, but your beauty goes beyond your looks that most people only seem to see of you, i cant blame them, you're a walking goddess, i dont even know why you would even speak to me.... I" you paused, closing your eyes as she felt her heart pick up a pace, as she watches you carefully gather yourself. "I like you. I know i could never be worthy enough to actually date you..."

before you could say more you felt arms wrap around your neck, pulling you in as you smelt her rich scent, you inhaled it in, hoping if this was a dream you wouldnt wake up.

"I've been hoping you'd come to me, I was going to tell you regardless, I'm so glad you told me."

then she kissed you. her lips felt way better than in your dreams.

Caitlyn;

You see a blue haired beauty sitting in a table not far from where the bar is, the place wasnt that loud tonight, which was weird for you. You've grown so used to the noise that the silence is a bit too much.

your other co worker, who was your friend, had finished their shift already and you were the last one left for close. people still hung around until late, business men, bikers, truckers coming in for a drink stop, group of girls coming in for some fun.

The usual.

You thought youve seen it all, then you laid eyes on her.

she was prettier than the night sky.

you wondered why she was sitting by herself looking so pretty in that blue dress, did someone set her up? did her date not come? that seems hard to believe why would anyone miss out on that.

You decided to go over to her.

"Did they not decide to show?" you started up a conversation.

Light and easy.

she looked up, not expecting anyone to talk to her.

"canceled last minute, i hope they crash."

you couldnt help but laugh at that, she smiled.

"Why would they cancel on someone as beautiful as you?" you asked, out loud, god you hoped she didn't think you were a creep.

"are you trying to fill their spot?" she asks boldly with a raised eyebrow, you stared into her gaze.

"I finish in 5."

you lied.

"Doesnt this place stay open for another hour?" she questions.

"so is that a no?"

"I never said that, see you in 5."

Vi;

usually vi would be the one to hit on girls, asking them out, taking them out on dates, flirting with them. but that all changed when she met you, a biker she fell in love with at first sight.

you had come into the bar she was already at, drinking away, she was in a mood, she had gotten in a fight and couldnt be bothered dealing with more idiots.

but you came walking in and stole her whole heart.

she thought you were a creepy man at first, trying to get in her damn pants, when she heard someone sit on the stool next to her, she wanted to curse.

but when she looked and saw you taking off your helmet, her heart stopped.

you caught her staring.

"Hi? is there something on my face?" you asked, nervous.

she wasn't expecting that.

"ah, i got it" she watched you wipe a bit off dirt away from under your eyes, she was captivated by you. "Can i get you a drink?" you asked.

thats usually her line. wait, did you just flirt with her? and she wasnt the one calling the shots?

she froze, blushing hard.

"you okay?" you asked, worried.

"yeah, yeah, uh, its nothing. ill have a whiskey."

"you like whiskey too? youve got taste" you hummed, she bit down on her lip hard.

she let you take her back to yours that night, and she doesnt regret it. neither do you.

sevika;

Sevika wasnt one to take compliments. But secretly, she had a soft spot for them. On the outside, shes rough, shes still rough on the inside, but she only shows those certain softness for those she really cares about.

She knew you for a lil while, you had come in working for Silco, she was obviously wary of you at first and kept her distance.

And a part of her always wanted to be near you.

It started with that and then it turned into something more, she couldn't stop thinking about you.

You couldn't keep your eyes off her whenever she was in the room, you felt your breath leave your body, she was a goddess.

After a few drinks, you couldnt stop yourself from going to the woman who sat by herself, you caught her eyeing you throughout the night.

Deciding your fate, you sit in the chair next to her.

"Sevika, I think you're really pretty.... like so pretty. You can hate me forever if you wanna, but I like you so much" you spilled everything to her, the whole truth, as she sat in silence and watched intensely. "wow, the power of alcohol, im.... ignore what i said, fuck, Ill leave you-"

you felt a strong grip grab your thigh, making you turn your attention back to her.

"Who said I wanted you to leave?" Sevika said with a grin, rubbing her hand on your skin causing your body to shudder from her touch. "You wanna follow me, hm, baby?" she murmured.

You nodded.

and happily followed her into the night.

[imsofreakingtired]

sevika missing date night angst/comfort‼️

thanks for the request!

not sure if this is what you had in mind, but hope you enjoy :)

know it's for the better

“and when broken bodies are washed ashore who am i to ask for more, more, more? but you’re breathing in my open mouth you’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out”

~~~

content: light angst, fluff if you squint ig..?

~~~

The candles are lit. You watch them burn steadily, casting long shadows on the walls, making the peeling paint and cracked plaster look like some sort of lost art from ancient times, better times….

You’re wearing the only fine piece of clothing you own—a black jacket made of real leather, something swiped from a Piltover flea market long ago, before the bridge became a battle zone. Your lips are painted with precious red lipstick. The clock ticks, every second mocking you, and the bottle of aged wine sits between two empty glasses.

Sevika told you she would come by eleven. It is now nearing twelve.

You know people do not have the luxury of dating in the Undercity. They don’t have the leisure to spend long hours in each other’s arms, in the glow of each other’s company. Not when there was barely even enough food to go around, when children’s hungry cries filled the nights and innocent people were arrested from their beds without even a warrant, snatched away to Stillwater. You know that in all likelihood, Sevika was still with Vander and Silco in the Last Drop, plotting and arguing about the revolution, the reformation of Zaun.

But she had promised tonight she would be yours, and Sevika never made promises she couldn’t keep.

You don’t want to be angry yet. Nor do you want to be worried. And you don’t want to feel selfish, either—sitting up in an empty apartment without any heating or running water, lipstick on your mouth when others didn’t even have clothes for the winter, a full bottle of wine on the table. Waiting for a lover you have no right to have.

When the clock ticks twelve-thirty, you stand up with a sigh and blow out the candles. No use wasting precious wax. You hesitate at the table, eyeing the glasses. You think, fuck it. You fill one of the glasses and drink the wine slowly, bitterly.

Sevika always said that you were the only reason she fought for Zaun. That you made it all worth it. Well, if you were so important to her, was it really too much to ask for just half a night to see her face?

You take off your jacket and drape it over your chair, then you take the glass of wine to your bed and kick off your shoes before lying down. The wine fills your head with sleep and resentment, and the thoughts come and go in waves. Before long your annoyance melts and you are only filled with a deep shame. Sevika will never love another person, you think, as nearly as she loves the cause. She will always be happier straining her body, giving everything she has, to the fight, than she would be living a quiet life. A quiet life with you.

Your eyelids feel heavy, but you keep watching the door drowsily, in a stupid half-hope that Sevika will come after all. You feel the tension drain from your body, a defeat. Sevika will always choose to fight. And you will always choose to wait for her. You would wait for her all through the night, all through the day, if you had to.

~~~

You don’t know when you finally fell asleep, but it seems like both an eternity and only a few seconds before you feel a warm calloused hand cupping your face, hear a familiar deep voice in your ear.

“Baby,” Sevika says softly.

You stir, not quite awake, force your eyes open to stare at her blearily through the darkness.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” you mumble.

“Are you mad?” Sevika asks.

You aren’t mad. You can’t be mad. For one thing, you’re dead-tired, and you aren’t even quite sure whether or not you’re dreaming all of this. But you can see the beautiful outline of Sevika’s face, and it’s enough to feel her hand on your skin, her voice so close to your ear. You reach up and take her hand, holding it against your face.

“You gotta leave again?” you ask.

“No.”

“Then stay with me.”

She gives a low chuckle. “That’s what I was hoping to do.”

You move over to the side of the bed so Sevika can lie down beside you. She slips an arm under your head, wraps the other around your waist, and pulls you close to her, spooning you in her body. She kisses the crook of your neck. She doesn’t say it, but you can tell by the way she holds you that she missed you.

“You better still be here when I wake up in the morning,” you murmur.

“Count on it,” she says, her voice already thick with sleep.

You smile and let yourself drift away into your dreams.

Dreams of a quiet life, a sunlit life.

With Sevika.

thank you @strawberrykidneystone for the request :)

[doiliedaze]

The Jewel of the Sea

Warnings: Sevika kidnaps reader, age gap (reader is 25 and Sevika is around her early 40s), reader is chaotic, enemies to lovers, mean Sev for a while, y’all threaten each other a lot and both have hit each other, Sevika kills someone, reader almost dies, another awkward fight scene, virgin reader, reader cums fast because that’s normal for a first time (so is taking a second), reader has blood on her when they have sex, praise, check-ups, reader gets eaten out, tribbing, I think that’s it LMAOOOO

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

A/N: im so excited for this fic and will be expanding on pirate Sevika!! They are so soft to me like I love them together!! Thank you all for your support I get so happy seeing you all and talking to you guys ʕ̡̢̡⌯͒•ɷ•⌯͒ʔ̢̡̢ this is long asf omg and I wasn’t gonna make it a series cause I can’t have another series rn lol

Translations- priya = darling, jaanu = my life

I researched that her name has Hindi, Sanskrit origins so I thought this would be a cute way to tie her culture in.

───────┈ · ·

Tonight is the night you’ve been raised for, tonight you become queen. The day was going as planned. Flowers here, knights there, it was almost out of a fairytale. You knew this was too good to be true. You’ve been known for your intuition, it’s why your parents put you before your older sister. Whom holds no resentment towards you only a sadness that you couldn’t pursue your own dreams.

Since you were little you’ve adored the ocean, often thinking in another life you were a mermaid. Admiring the idea of protecting the ocean and it’s creatures somewhat like how you saw your mother care for her people. To swim as free as your sister rode. To sing an enchanting song to defeat enemies as your father cut others with his words.

You often reminisce on the idea and in your opinion it helps you be a better princess. Your thoughts were interrupted as your seamstress finish the last lace detail on you coronation dress. You step off the box to admire yourself stuck in utter awe.

Time passes as you wait behind that humongous door, the door that’ll start the new chapter in your 25 years. The love your family expressed to you unmistakable. As soon as you were alone you felt odd? Almost on edge…

You kept your eyes peeled, and shrugged it off as nerves. The thing about intuition is, it’ll work for you if you work with it.

Ignoring the churn in your stomach you walk as you hear the cue of the violins. As soon as the door opens, chaos is afoot!

Your eyes can’t focus on anything as you look for your family whom are nowhere to be found! Panic is settling into you as you try to create a plan. You see a discarded sword and pick it up awkwardly clutching it, you were always better with archery.

Running through the crowd not sure how to help or what to do your eyes settle on her.

She’s looks like she’d tower over you and hunt you down. You notice her scars and her mechanical arm. Her light smirk and her piercing gaze. It’s like the confusion in the crowd didn’t matter because she was steadily stalking towards you. You’ve heard of her before, she’s known for what she does and how she gets away with it.

Prey in a predators radar is exactly what you were, but you had a choice to fight or flee. You choose to flee as it’ll be you advantage. You know this castle and it doesn’t matter how many times they could’ve mapped it out this is your home.

Clutching the sword you run through the doors and into the hallway. Your main focus is making it to your crawl space which will take you to the gardens. As soon as you got close enough, the knob a fingertip away a sturdy hand grabs your waist and pushes you to the floor. Your sword drops as you try to brace your fall. Not ready to give in despite the pain in your body, you kick at her.

She laughs, how dare she mock you?

To make sure you stay still so her crew could make a swift escape she knocks you out with a cloth.

In almost an instance you went from queen to be, to hostage.

In a haze you wake up in a strange room, it looks to be a office with a makeshift bedroom area? You grip the sheets as you sit up eyes taking in the decor. Treasure here and there, maps neatly tucked away. Slowly you get up feeling that you are without your corset. Heat runs to your face but you push that aside as you look for a weapon.

Gathering courage you go out into the deck looking for her. That brute that took you from your home! The sun was blinding as and the smell of the sea was consuming but you saw her.

You storm up to her despite the laughs from her crew that quite when you dawn the knife you found.

Her express has yet to change from that smug satisfaction.

“Take me home, I demand it!” You yell pointing the knife at her face.

“Careful princess you might hurt yourself.” She laughs, oh what you’d give to rip that laugh out of her throat.

Before you could protest further she grabs then squeezes your wrist disarming you. You squirm as she slings you over her shoulder and makes her way back to her room.

Softly she places you on the bed and closes the door. “You’ll be staying in my quarters.” She states as she gives you space.

“Take me home!”

“I know you aren’t deaf.” She snorts

“You must be dumb because I refuse to stay on this ship!” With that she gets in your face, “you’ll mind how you talk to me.”

Anger rising in you, you spit on her square in her face.

Keeping her composure she steps back and wipes her face.

“I understand this isn’t ideal but you’ll get use to it.”

“Wow an understanding pirate how lucky am I!” You say with an eye roll.

“I took you because of your looks but you’ll stay because of that mouth.”

Being as bull headed as you are, you get off the bed and walk up to her.

“I will be going home with your permission or not!” You keep your voice steady and clear.

Swiftly she pushes you up against the nearest wall. Her breath ghosting your neck. Her thick fingers playing with the lace on the bust of your dress. “Don’t push me princess, you aren’t the first pretty thing I’ve thrown overboard.”

Fear churning in your stomach you whimper softly, pulling a wolf like grin out of her.

“You like that pretty thing? Being threatened is that what gets ya goin’.” Softly she tugs on your dress revealing more of your plush breast.

Your chest heaves as no one has seen you like this. “You are a degenerate.” You state avoiding eye contact. “Sometimes” she states as she moves her flesh hand to pull a stray coil. You swat at her hand and she moves, “get some rest you’ll need it for tomorrow princess.”

Defeated and highly flustered you lay in the bed and give your mind to your dreams.

Your nights use to end with you going to sleep alone and you waking up alone until one night. Sevika was charting at her desk and you were reading on the bed. When she assumed you were getting sleepy she packed up to leave but you broke the silence. “Stay…please.”

She gave you an expression you couldn’t read but she obliged. She puts her things down and lays next to you. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Before this I’ve never slept on a ship before…it’s different.”

“It’s not that bad once you get used to it.” She awkwardly slide her fingers into yours. Obvious she hasn’t done this before. You put your pride to the side and nuzzle into her. “I had a bear…I can’t sleep without her so…” with that she just squeezes you close, embracing you. Being able to relax you inhale until you drift off to sleep.

The next months were a blur as you roam the ship endlessly. You were peering out at sea when you smell her behind you. That strong scent of wood burned into your senses.

“What’s occupying your mind priya?” Her rough hand softly touching your shoulder.

Priya…you still don’t know what it means but it’s nice to hear, better than a condescending princess or pretty thing.

Over these last few months you’ve learn to tolerate her. You two still argue like there’s no tomorrow but you grew to worry when she would stress and you’d help keep order. You saw how she’d grow to worry when you couldn’t sleep or if you’d stare off too long, wanting this to be a home for you how this has been a home to her crew.

“I want to go home.” You sigh leaning forward, gripping the ledge.

“You are home.” Sevika states coldly, “ I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you?”

“Why being a hostage isn’t enough for me?”

“Hostages don’t get freedom or new clothes you choose to stay on the boat when we dock!”

“I refuse to be seen with you!” You shout turning to face her. The hurt in her eyes are evident but she pushes it down, “this is what I get for protecting a brat!”

“You aren’t protecting me at all! I told you I’m going home with or without you!”

“How would you suppose you’d get home princess?” She cocked her eyebrow and spoke with venom.

Irritated and wanting to prove your point you look around and it dawns on you, you are an amazing swimmer.

Without warning you hoist yourself over the ledge and fall into the ocean. The water was cool but not unbearable.

You sink down trying to gain cover with the bubbles of your submersion but it wouldn’t matter because Sevika jumped in after you.

Concerned more than angry she swims to you and with a rope and the help of the crew the two of you are retrieved!

“Are you out of your fucking mind y/n! Do you not understand how you could’ve hurt yourself pulling a stunt like that?” She shouts not giving you a chance to catch your breath. The crew was quite, it’s a big divide whenever you two argue, Ran typically getting in the middle of it.

“Why can’t you understand you took me from my home and I don’t feel safe with you!”

Angrily she grabs your face squeezing just enough to leave a sting. “So all the nights I hold you and talk to you doesn’t make you feel safe?” You claw at her biceps as you feel tears well in your eyes.

“That’s enough Sevika I think she understands she’s wrong.” Ran states stepping closer.

Sevika can feel her stomach churn because she made you cry. “There’s nothing to see here go back to your stations!” She yells as she pushes you into Ran then left to her quarters.

With that you walk away and go to your spot. You like to sit on the front of the ship with her right hand Ran. They are sweet to you surprisingly and keep you updated on your kingdom. You’ve been presumed dead and your family is devastated but they have to move on.

“I don’t understand why she keeps me here, I refuse to help.” You sniffle and wipe your face.

“You’re entertaining to her I suppose.” Ran says with a shrug, “I don’t question her anymore she wouldn’t give me a straight answer at least when it comes to you.”

“Why’d you guys raid my castle in the first place?” You turn to face them.

Ran’s shoulder tense slightly. “Not sure if I should tell you honestly.”

“You’re the only person I can talk to Ran please!” You grab their hand.

“We were raiding your kingdom because we heard of a King getting ready to kill his heir and we wanted to goods before the drama settled in.” They avoided your eyes feeling a slight shame.

Dread seeps into your heart as their words repeat in your head “ a King getting ready to kill his heir.”

“No I…he wouldn’t!” You stand abruptly, “he loves me!”

“He was raising you for slaughter! Who makes their second in line the monarch? Look I know this is hard but you ever wondered why your family never truly went looking for you? We’re a notorious group and-”

Without another word you were running to Sevika.

When you enter the bedroom you find her frustrated at the desk writing in her journal.

“How may I help you princess?” She mutters without even looking at you, “he was trying to kill me?” You whisper as your voice shakes.

Sevika looks up at you not sure how she wants to respond. She’s never been good with emotions whether it’s hers or someone else’s. Sevika had to grow up in a world where she was the only person who cared about her. That’s why it was so easy to make the seas her home.

Slowly she opened her arms to you and you run over to her lap. In disbelief you sob on her mechanical shoulder. “Why would he do that to me?” You ask in broken breaths.

Sevika could feel her heart in her throat unsure how to respond. When she was younger she imagined having friends and having to comfort them but she never got there with anyone besides Ran and Ran isn’t a crier. So she pulls you closer and lays her head on yours. “If you didnt take me…do you think that would’ve been the day?”

“Priya I don’t know much…but I do know you get headaches after you cry so stop crying please.” She whispers as she wipes your tears. You try to even your breathes but you can’t. So there you sit in your accidental saviors embrace.

Ever since that day you’ve been attached to her hip. This life isn’t what you’d imagined but it’s yours. You often think back and try to see what you missed but it’s no use.

“Sev, whats your favorite thing about being a pirate besides killing people?” You ask as you two walk around a market. You feel like a true swashbuckler with your floppy hat, flowy fabrics and the gun Sevika taught you how to use.

“Watching my crew enjoying themselves.” She bites into an apple then hands it to me, “you all deserve nice things and that’s better than bloodshed…I guess.”

“Big ole’ softy…” you nudge your shoulder into her as you bite the apple.

“Don’t get use to it.” She mutters and you were going to tease back till you saw an amulet.

“Jaanu look!” You point but she stops, “what did you call me?” Her voice unsteady. “Jaanu? Oh I…well you call me priya so I wouldn’t to call you something sweet too…I don’t necessarily know what either means but I read it in one of your romance novels you like to hide.” You state this like it’s no big deal as you buy the golden amulet. Sevika can feel her face burning and her palms sweating. “Priya means darling and jaanu means my life.”

Stopping in the middle of a market is frowned upon as it slows the hustle and bustle of the environment but you could care less as you stare into her grey eyes. “Then here jaanu I want you to have this.”

You lean up on your tippy toes and clasp the amulet around her neck, “now you’ll always carry me with you.” With that you walk away to catch up with Ran but you look over your shoulder to see her lopsided smile.

You were too busy gushing to Ran about what happened that you weren’t watching your surroundings. You’re still getting use to being a pirate let alone an ex-royal. Technically people still want you dead so it was confusing when Ran tackles you!

Word got out about Sevika’s new lover and how she favors the beauty of a princess. There’s been more incidents at the docks lately but nothing this bold! Another crew mate covered you two as Ran and you prepared your guns.

Lost in the frenzy you got separated. You get a sense of deja-vú. A weapon in your hand you haven’t used on anyone before, fear churning in your stomach and your intuition screaming at you.

Sevika isn’t around to immediately safe you so you have to choose; fight or flight. You don’t need a repeat of what happened a year ago so you choose to gain cover and shoot.

Aim is sloppy but you hit enough people more to disarm them, not having the heart to kill anyone.

That’s when you feel a cold gun pressed to the back of your head. Panic is seeping into your body, what do you do in a situation like this? You aren’t savvy enough to fight them off.

You thought back to all the moments you made on the ship, how you just accepted this is your life. Now it’s getting taken away. You close your eyes thinking about how you wish to be in Sevika’s arms one more time, to tell her how you feel.

In an instance you hear a pop and you assume it was you but you feel a thick warm liquid flow down your shoulder. You look back and there she stood. Sevika always protecting you.

Quickly she rounded you and the crew up. “Are you hurt?” Sevika held your face, her grey eyes searching yours. Not wanting to waste another moment you kiss her.

You two fumble to your quarters, breathing heavily. She shakily takes your clothes off as she bites your neck. “Been wanting you for so long priya.”

“Take me then” you moan clawing at her clothes. Sevika pushes you down on the bed and pressed your things to your chest. Her thick tongue slowly licks and teases your cunt. “Jaanu please I want more” you mewl overwhelmed by the sensations.

“I’m going to take my time and you will listen. Now this might hurt for a second so breathe f’me.” She pushes one finger into you slowly and listens to your drawn out moan. “Feels good priya?”

“Fuck yes!” You moan as you bite your lip. Needing to do something with your hands you pull her hair. “Sevika more!”

“Can’t ever stop being a brat huh?” Always striving to make you happy she pushes another finger in. Her tongue wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly.

Broken moans is the only thing able to come from your throat as you cum into her mouth. “Are you okay, does anything hurt?”

“No more please” you whine although this position is hurting your thighs.

Sevika gently placed her bare cunt against yours and rubs. The satisfaction of that small amount of friction got you wet. “Fuck you feel so good” she moans into your ear.

“You make me feel so good” you lick the outer shell of her pierced ear causing a shiver to go down her spine.

Your hips grind up against hers and you feel yourself already on edge so you both slow down. The drawn out strokes had you both twitching and moaning. The mixture of your juices staining the sheets when y’all came.

Sevika leans her forehead against yours and says, “promise to sail the seas with me forever?”

“I do.”

───────┈ · ·

A/n: this is the longest fic I ever wrote and bitch I don’t wanna do this shit again🥹 in all seriousness I wanted to push myself and I can see the moodboard already!! I hope you all enjoyed this and criticisms is welcomed!!

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian

Dividers- @dollywons

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Hold Me Tenderly

Warnings: MDNI, sex, angst Summary: When woken up from a nightmare, you and Caleb are forced to confront some uncomfortable truths. WC: 3075 A/n: This week has been crazy. As I've mentioned in an earlier rant, there's more to Caleb than meets the eye and I'm here for it. I've seen a bump in toxicity since his launch, and I just want to take this space to say, please remember this is all FICTIONAL. Let people like who they like and if you have nothing nice to say, scroll on by.

It’s pitch black. You squint, your heart pounding frantically as you try to get your bearings. Up, down, left, right, direction seemed to have lost all meaning. It was dark. And quiet. Too quiet. The unsettling sound of your blood rushing through your own veins adds to the paranoia building inside you.

“Are you looking for me?” Your body jolts at the voice as you look around desperately for the source.

“Caleb?” You call through the echoing nothingness. He sounded so close but where was he? 

“Right here. Can’t you see me?” He sounded further away this time. You jog through the void, not even certain if there is ground beneath your feet. Were you actually moving? Or were you stuck in place, wasting effort to run through a medium that couldn’t be traversed?  

“Caleb, where are you? I can’t find you!” Your voice calls out, shrill, and panicked into the void.

“Here.” He sounded much farther away now, the faint sound of him disappearing into the dark. You give chase, plunging deeper into the unknown.

“Caleb!”

“Hey.” You’re shaken gently and your eyes fly open, your limbs tangling under the sheets as you thrash to free yourself.

“Whoa, calm down. It’s ok. It’s ok my little mouse.” Strong arms wrap around you and you’re pulled into a tight embrace against a firm, muscled, chest. You swallow, then blink your eyes open. The bedside lamp is turned on, and you feel relief flood your chest as Caleb’s face comes into focus. You sniff, burying your face into the comforting warmth of his skin. 

“Nightmare?” He asks softly, cupping the back of your head. You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “It’s gone now. I’m here.” He shushes you, patting your back soothingly.

You’re here, but you’re not here.

The thought enters your mind, unbidden, and suddenly, it’s too much. Your eyes squeeze closed, trying and failing to stop the cascade of tears that form. You couldn’t bear it anymore. Caleb came and went like day changing into night - too brief and without a trace. You hated it. You hated him acting like this tension between you didn’t exist, like the events at Skyhaven had been put to rest.

But most of all you hated that whenever Caleb visited, he never seemed to understand that you wanted him to stay. You had never said he was unwelcome, but he treated himself like an unsavory visitor, only packing enough clothes for a day, before leaving the next. 

And you hated yourself for being unable to shake off the question he had asked the last time he had visited. 

“Why didn’t you ask me who kept me up all night? Were you afraid I’d say it was you? Or were you scared I’d say it wasn’t?”

Wasn’t the answer to that obvious? Why else would you keep letting this man back into your life, over and over, like a moth drawn to a flame? Simply put, you were now in a precarious state, knowing you could never go back to a world where Caleb didn’t exist. It was infuriating, the way he thought he was being considerate, never overstaying his visits, when it was so plainly obvious you didn’t want him to go. Your heart broke each time he left without asking if there were feelings that went beyond the bond of growing up together. 

So you cry, and he holds you tenderly. You couldn’t remember the first time you had both done this, years ago, sharing a bed to avoid facing all the past trauma you’d endured together. But all you knew was that you never wanted there to be a last. 

“It’s just a dream baby girl,” Caleb murmurs in your ear. 

Your eyes snap open, and through gritted teeth you say, “It’s not just a dream Caleb.”

His hand pauses. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not a dream.” You sit upright, burying your face in your hands, your body racked with sobs, shaking and trembling on the bed. The sheets ruffle and Caleb pulls you against him, trying to console you. He seems to be at a loss about what to say. You take a shuddering breath and it’s like a dam burst inside you.

“You come when you want. And leave when you want. What about me, Caleb? Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want bits and pieces of you anymore?” You look up at him, tears streaking down your face, your heart skipping a beat as his eyes grow wide with shock. You ramble on. 

“I don’t know how we got here. And I’m trying to fix it but Caleb…I can’t fix it if you won’t stay.” 

You finally admit the things you’d tucked away inside, trying to bury them; now they were crawling out of your throat like ghosts desperate for a rebirth. You swallow, and Caleb grabs the glass of water from the nightstand and presses it into your hands. 

“Drink.” 

The word is said so firmly that you dare not refuse and you gulp, the liquid somehow helping dull the harshness of the lump in your throat. He puts it back before gathering you close to him.

“You realize that’s the first time you told me I could stay.”

“Well, I’m sorry! I thought it was obvious!” You hurl the words, which get muffled by the wall of his chest. 

Caleb huffs. “Well, it wasn’t. And who told you that I didn’t want to stay? I was trying to give you space.” He takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me around anymore.”

Your heart clenches, and your hands tighten on his T-shirt. “Of course, I want you around Caleb. You’re my…” Your voice trails as you realize the term ‘best friend’ rang hollow. He was so much more than that. 

Caleb gently leans back so that he can look at your face. He cups your cheek, his eyes gazing at your face searchingly.

“What? What am I?” 

The question snaps the coil that had been steadily winding tighter during his stay. Frustrated, you move to your knees, hands springing out to capture his face. Before he can react, you roughly cover his mouth with yours. The kiss is raw, pouring out every moment of rage and loneliness you have felt since being reunited with him. You had never kissed him before, and a momentary flash of worry crosses your mind at the implications but they’re pushed out as you take what you had been desiring for so long. 

Caleb groans lowly at the feeling of your soft lips against his but his mind is fighting propriety. “Wait. Hang on, wait baby girl.” Caleb’s large hands catch yours and he breaks the kiss, trying to put some space in between you both. 

“Are you sure about this?” Caleb’s eyes are painted with confusion and doubt, but there is no denying the growing darkness at the edges of his irises. Despite everything, neither of you had dared cross that line, the one that threatened to upend your complete understanding of each other. 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” 

Your consent brings forth a growl from his throat, and finally, finally, he claims you back. You revel in the push of his body against yours, the hard muscles pressing against your softness as he wraps both arms around you and you’re crushed under his weight as both of you crash onto the mattress. Everything was fair game now, no qualms asked. His mouth, hot and demanding, finds yours, and your hands anchor onto his shoulder blades, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you than he already was. Everything about him was familiar, yet different. 

You’d held his body before, cupped his cheeks, and cuddled him during the bad days, but now, you feel the tension in his body as the boundaries between friendship and something more start to blur. The raging ache in your chest that had been clawing at you since you had left Skyhaven now had a name; possessiveness.

Because he was yours. And weren’t you his? Was it fate that had brought you two together at the shelter after the day of the Chronorift Catastrophe? It hardly seemed to matter but now, the both of you were intricately bound together and you couldn’t figure out where he ended and you started. All that mattered was that he was here. 

A gasp leaves your mouth as Caleb rakes his teeth down your lips, nibbling and sucking the soft flesh. Carding your fingers through his hair, you wait until the sting has passed before leaning up to pepper his face with little kisses, causing him to pause as he catches his breath.

“I was afraid you’d say yes.” 

“What?” Caleb’s eyes knit in confusion as he regards through the haze in his brain.

“Your question. I was afraid you’d say yes.” Your breath hitches as he cushions your head with his arm, gazing down at you with affection. 

“Why?” He murmurs as he dips down to lick and nibble your ear, sending currents of heat down your spine.

“Because Caleb. I’m always afraid. I thought I lost everything during the chronorift. I didn’t want to dare ask for more. Because asking for more means being vulnerable to getting hurt.”

Caleb’s eyes are full of emotion. “I didn’t want to ask you for more,” he admits quietly. “Because I know you are already empty from giving me whatever you have now.” 

The room falls into silence and the only thing that can be heard is the hammering of your hearts, pounding in sync with each other. 

“Take me, Caleb.” You murmur and his heart nearly stops in his chest. “I can never be empty if you’re here. But promise me you’ll stop leaving the way you do.” Your voice hitches. “I can’t do it all over again.” 

Caleb presses kisses to your temples, rubbing your noses together like a puppy and there’s conviction in his voice as he speaks. “I won’t. I promise I’ll never be gone long enough for you to start questioning my position in your life.” 

Your hands start to trace his face and he catches one of them, kissing your fingertips and sighing against your palm. The heat between you threatens to consume you whole. When his mouth touches yours, you open and let in his tongue, exploring the taste and wetness. His hands are now bruisingly dug into your waist like he’s steeling himself from going too fast and rough.

Primal instinct pours into his veins and visions of his past fantasies flood his brain; ripping off your clothes while his hands spread apart your legs. How wet you’d feel as he tasted the sweet nectar of your sex before plunging his cock so deep within you that you’d feel for him for days long after it was over. How long had he held back from acting on those impulses?

He grits his teeth as he rolls you over onto him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to control himself having you pinned powerless underneath him. You’re looking at him in a confused daze, then, with a gesture so cute that it almost made him lose restraint, you raise your arms above your head. He leans up, dragging the pajama shirt off your torso, swallowing hard as you reveal yourself to him. Those soft, inviting breasts, the ones he’d imagined for years now, were perfect. He cups them reverently as he presses kisses to your cleavage, squeezing and enjoying the feel of your flesh. 

Your body reacts naturally to him, responding so strongly that you feel like you might combust from the rising need gathering in your sex. Your clit throbs within its folds, swollen and delicate, as it waits to be unsheathed. Caleb’s erection was straining against the fabric of his shorts, brushing against your crotch and as he pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingertips, you started to grind against him. 

A hiss escapes from him as he looks up at you, crazed with desire, the sight of you rubbing against him pouring fuel into the fire. He sits up, crossing his legs and upsetting your balance before drawing you securely onto his lap. His head dips to suckle, the feel of his tongue and teeth on your nipple sending shocks of pleasure through your system. You struggle against him, finding the hem of his T-shirt and undressing him, amazed at the sight of his bare chest. 

You sigh before running your hands over the expanse, his mouth busying itself with your breast again. There was no shame or reluctance as you took from each other. A sheen of sweat covers your bodies as you tease and stroke each other. Every small gasp, whimper, and moan was part of a private symphony, and he was desperate to hear you sing. 

You could feel the drip of moisture inside your sex now and were growing impatient from the wait. Your eyes lock with Caleb’s, those smokey, purple irises watching you intently. When your fingertips hook into his waistband, he doesn’t question you, but with a show of strength, braces his palms on the bed and lifts his hips. You slide forward slightly but manage to yank off the garments below his knees, watching his cock spring free from its confines, weeping precum from the slit.

“Fuck. Don’t look at me like that.” Caleb’s cheeks are flushed and his voice is gravelly, a soft rumble of barely contained need. He bites back a moan as your fingers curl around his shaft, squeezing and pumping him tantalizingly, and his hips rock against you as pleasure floods his brain. His hand catches your wrist, stilling you as he tries to control the rushes of arousal that shoot through him. His cock felt painfully hard and your willingness was driving him to the edge.

Without missing a beat, Caleb pulls off your shorts and panties, panting as your wet sex hovers over the tip of his cock, your knees sinking into the mattress as you try to settle back on his lap. He groans wantonly as your pussy, moist and warm, brushes against his engorged head, mixing your essence with his. It felt divine, and your hips start to seek friction, dragging the length of his cock in between your folds, gasping softly into his ear each time it hits your clit. 

“That’s right baby girl. Use me. I’m all yours.” Caleb whispers encouragement into your ear and it only makes you want to claim him even more. You whimper as you raise as high as your knees will take you, sliding the slick little bud along his slit, trying to fit it into the little hole that was leaking those milky beads from his shaft. 

“Caleb.” Your voice is a whine as your nails dig into his back, dancing so carefully along the ridge so that your clit doesn’t miss any action. 

“Oh, that’s it little mouse.” Caleb coos at you while his hands stroke down your back. “My sweet girl. Take what you need.” His fingers indent into your hips to help guide your movements and you feel a similar series of small spasms flutter their way into your core. Knowing you’re close you use Caleb, solid and grounding, as an anchor and hump him with abandon, your breasts bouncing with each movement. You’re both in a trance, broken from it when you feel the tension in your clit suddenly start to feel wonderfully light and sublime. You moan as your climax hits you, continuing to stimulate the little bud on his tip as the rest of the orgasm follows, sending ripple after ripple of hot pleasure through you. Your mouth hangs open as you pant from the exertion, then are caught off guard as Caleb cups your face and kisses you.

While he was occupied with your mouth you raise your hips and ease your fluttering hole onto his length. A guttural grunt spills from Caleb’s mouth into yours as you continue to lower your pussy onto him, taking him further into your slick welcoming heat. His cock throbs as it slips further inside you and he watches your face as you settle to his size. You felt so full, the way his cock filled your inner space, and when he rolls his hips, you cling onto him for dear life. You’d never thought he could feel so good, feel so comforting as his meat thrusts up into you before easing back down. 

Your hips start to coordinate a rhythm to his movements, sinking onto him as he pushes up, helping him bottom out each time, and he swore he could see stars forming around him. You were so tight, so inviting, and so unbelievably sexy as you writhed in passion along with him. 

“Fuck little mouse.” Caleb’s vision blurs at the edges as he feels himself on the precipice of a climax. “You feel good. So damn perfect.” He chases his orgasm, his thrusts growing more urgent and sloppy as he did so. Your juices coat his cock and start to form a ring around his length, your walls quivering and sucking him further in towards your cervix. 

Caleb’s abdomen is rigid and he feels every part of him tensing up in anticipation for a mind-blowing finish. He moans, the noise sexily floating into the air, then holds you tightly against him as he finishes, spilling himself messily into your quivering channel, the thick jets of seed coating your walls white. He doesn’t move, savoring the closeness and intimacy of having you pressed up against him, sated and warm. After a few moments, he maneuvers both of you to lay down, his softened cock still nestle within you as you immediately move closer to snuggle into his chest.

“No more running away. Whatever happens, we’ll talk it out. And I promise I won’t leave you unless you’re screaming at me to get out.”

You chuckle quietly, then kiss his chin. 

“Never. Unless you refuse to make your braised chicken wings for me.” 

He laughs heartily and both of you feel some of the awkwardness between you ease. It wasn’t going to be easy but you were both determined to fix whatever had been lost. One step at a time, you reminded yourself, before snuggling into Caleb and finally drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@tokyorevengersrin @brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura @prisjean @laddelulu30 @lethargiccryptid @ravenclaw-jojo @redactedbimbo @crypt-0rchid @fattybattysblog @xinnn6

[cosmiclily]

chapter three: party in la

wc: 2.6k

cw: alcohol consumption, making out.

“Alright, LA! My name is Y/N!” you shout into the mic, your voice carrying over the roaring crowd. “This is Jinx, our favorite guitarist!” You gesture toward Jinx, who grins and raises her guitar, prompting a fresh wave of cheers.

“And over here, we’ve got Ekko, our bassist!” Ekko steps forward slightly, throwing a playful wink at the crowd, his confident smile earning a loud round of applause.

“And last but definitely not least, in the back, we have Vi—your favorite drummer!” The crowd explodes into deafening screams, their enthusiasm almost shaking the venue. Over the last couple of weeks, Vi’s newfound “bad girl” reputation—fueled by her messy breakup with Caitlyn and her knack for stirring up controversy—has turned her into a social media sensation. The owners of the bars she went to hated her, but for some reason, she became really popular with some fans.

You weren’t complaining, though. Attention is attention, whether good or bad, and it undeniably helped the band climb out of obscurity and onto the radar of new fans.

“And we are Shadow and Shimmer,” you say, your voice steady but filled with emotion as you look out at the sea of faces. “Thank you so much for having us tonight, LA. Now, I’ll leave the stage to the big star of the night!” You give a small bow as the crowd cheers louder, and the four of you exit the stage, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“That was insane,” Ekko says, running a hand through his locks as you make your way backstage. “Best crowd we’ve had yet.”

“Yeah, well, Vi’s fan club out there definitely helps,” Jinx teases, nudging Vi with her elbow. “Bad girls for the win, right?”

Vi rolls her eyes but smirks, tossing a drumstick in the air and catching it effortlessly. “Whatever gets them to show up.”

You shake your head, laughing as you glance back toward the stage entrance, the faint echo of cheers still audible. “I just hope the crowd is this good when we headline our own show,” you say, walking toward the dressing room with the others trailing behind.

As you step inside, Archie is already waiting for you, his phone in hand and a grin plastered across his face.

“Great show, guys!” he says, clapping his hands. “There’s a lot of buzz on social media already—people asking who the opening act was. You’ve got new fans chomping at the bit to know more about you. And since this was the last show of the tour, I’m pretty confident about locking in that album deal.”

The room erupts in cheers, with Ekko and Jinx high-fiving each other while Vi leans back against the wall, her trademark smirk softening into something almost hopeful.

“We did it,” you say, a grin spreading across your face. “This tour was just the beginning.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Archie warns with a chuckle. “This is just step one. If that album deal comes through, it’s going to be a whole new level of work. But for now, enjoy this win. You’ve earned it.”

You sink into the worn couch in the dressing room, letting out a deep breath as your heart finally slows down. This is it! you think, excitement buzzing in your veins. Of course, there was still a mountain of work ahead, but success felt so close you could almost taste it. For the first time, the dream didn’t feel like a distant fantasy—it felt real.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” Archie says, adjusting his glasses as he heads for the door. “See you all tomorrow for the debrief.” He waves once before disappearing into the hallway, leaving the room in a rare, brief moment of calm.

Too brief.

As soon as the door clicks shut, you catch the glint in Jinx’s eyes—the mischievous spark that always precedes her best (and worst) ideas. She hops off her seat like a coiled spring, her grin stretching ear to ear.

“You know what this means, right?” she says, a dangerous edge of excitement in her voice. Before anyone can respond, she’s already grabbed a pair of makeup brushes from the vanity and started banging them against the shelf like drumsticks. “Partyyy!” she announces, punctuating the word with a mock drumroll.

Ekko groans, leaning his head back dramatically. “Jinx, come on. We’ve got a flight tomorrow. Can’t we just chill for one night?”

“Chill?” Jinx gasps, spinning around to face him with mock horror. “Ekko, we just smashed it in front of LA! The crowd loved us, Archie’s practically foaming at the mouth with the album deal, and you want to chill?!” She plants her hands on her hips, looking between all of you. “Vi, back me up here!”

Vi, who’s been leaning silently against the wall, sipping water like it’s the only thing keeping her upright, raises an eyebrow. “Depends. What kind of party are we talking about?”

“The kind that doesn’t involve thinking about flights or rehearsals or… whatever the hell Archie’s ‘debrief�� is,” Jinx says, hopping onto the couch beside you, her energy infectious. “Come on, we deserve this.”

You glance at Ekko, who’s already looking at you like he’s begging you to be the voice of reason. But as you sit there, the adrenaline still pumping, you can’t help but think Jinx has a point. You do deserve this.

“Fine,” you say, throwing your hands up in defeat. “But if we’re doing this, it’s low-key. No setting off fireworks in the hallway, Jinx.”

She gasps, clutching her chest dramatically. “Fireworks? Me? I would never.”

Vi chuckles, shaking her head. “This is gonna be a disaster.”

But even as she says it, there’s a small smile playing on her lips. And as Jinx jumps up, already planning the night ahead, you can’t help but feel a spark of excitement. Disaster or not, it’s exactly what you all need.

As you make your way to your hotel room, thoughts of the night ahead start creeping into your mind. Jinx had mentioned a "very low-key" club the dancers had been raving about—something underground and edgy. It sounded like the kind of place where you could blend in, dance out the stress, and maybe forget about the whirlwind that was your life for a few hours.

You unlock the door and step inside. Vi throws herself on her bed, makeup wipes in hand, already taking off the heavy eyeliner she wears for the concerts. But her laid-back demeanor doesn’t fool you. You’ve seen how fast her mood can shift, especially after a couple of drinks.

As you rummage through your suitcase, mentally cycling through outfit options, you glance over at her, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. “Do I need to worry about you tonight? Or can I focus solely on what kind of skirt I’ll be picking?”

Vi looks up, raising an eyebrow before chuckling. “No worries, princess. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

You narrow your eyes playfully, not entirely convinced. “Your ‘best behavior’ still includes breaking at least one rule.”

She grins, leaning back against the headboard. “Okay, fair. But tonight, I promise—no fights, no drama. Just me, a couple of drinks, and maybe a little dancing. You’re the one who should be careful, though. Those ‘low-key’ places Jinx picks always have some kind of chaos waiting.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you pull out a black skirt and pair it with a crop top. “Chaos is kind of her thing. But maybe that’s exactly what we need tonight.”

Vi watches you for a moment. “Yeah… maybe it is.”

You nod, heading toward the bathroom to change. Tonight was about unwinding, letting loose, and—if you were lucky—having just enough fun to leave the stress behind without waking up with regrets. And with Jinx leading the charge, you knew one thing for sure: it wouldn’t be boring.

──────────────────────

The club was… interesting. It was exactly the kind of place Jinx always seemed to thrive in: loud music that vibrated through your chest, bright, flashing lights, and an overwhelming sea of people dancing like there was no tomorrow. You, on the other hand, were more of a bar person. You liked loud music too, but the kind where you could still have a conversation without shouting yourself hoarse.

You leaned toward the others, trying to make yourself heard over the relentless bass. “Do you guys want to get a drink?” you shouted, your voice barely cutting through the noise. Still, the message got across as they nodded in agreement.

“What do you guys want? I’ll order while you find us a spot to sit,” Ekko offered, his voice somehow carrying just enough to be heard.

“I’ll go with you,” Vi said casually, stuffing her hands into her leather jacket pockets. The two of them turned to you and Jinx for your orders before weaving through the crowd toward the bar.

You glanced at Jinx, who was already scanning the chaotic room with her sharp eyes, clearly in her element. Together, you navigated through the packed dance floor, searching for a place to settle down. After some maneuvering, you managed to claim a small booth near the edge of the room, away from the thickest part of the crowd but still close enough to feel the club’s electric energy.

As you slid into the booth, Jinx gave you a knowing smirk, leaning in closer to be heard. “So… what are your plans for tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow at her, unsure of where she was going with this. “What do you mean? My plan is to survive this chaos, maybe have a drink, and avoid any unnecessary drama.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, her grin widening. “Come on. You can’t come to a place like this without at least *some* intention of having fun. No crushes you want to dance with? No one you’re secretly hoping to bump into?” She wagged her eyebrows teasingly.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not all of us live for chaos, Jinx. I’m staying away of relationships dramas, Vi’s is already plenty.”

Jinx leaned back, shrugging. “Suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if Vi gets all the attention tonight. The ‘bad girl’ image is magnetic, y’know. People eat that stuff up.”

You glanced toward the bar, catching a glimpse of Vi and Ekko still waiting for drinks. Vi was leaning casually against the counter, her presence naturally commanding, even in a place like this. Jinx wasn’t wrong—people had been flocking to her lately, drawn to her reckless charm. You just hoped the night wouldn’t spiral into one of her infamous scenes.

“Yeah, well, let’s just see how the night goes,” you said, brushing off Jinx’s teasing. You weren’t entirely sure what you were hoping for tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something unexpected was bound to happen. After all, with this group, it always did.

──────────────────────

And one drink turned into two, then three, then four. Before you realized, you were already on the dance floor, the bass of the music thrumming through your chest like a second heartbeat. You were sandwiched between a blonde woman with a dazzling smile and who you assumed was her equally attractive friend. Their laughter mingled with the pounding music, and though their words were lost in the noise, their energy was infectious.

Right now, you didn’t really care how stuffy the room felt or how you’d probably sweated off most of your makeup. The tension and exhaustion that had been clinging to you for weeks melted away with every beat of the music. The world outside didn’t matter; there was only the rhythm, the heat, and the pulse of bodies moving around you.

The blonde leaned in closer, saying something you couldn’t hear but smiling like you’d just shared the funniest joke. You laughed along anyway, her carefree energy pulling you deeper into the moment. You caught a glimpse of Jinx across the room, perched on the edge of a couch like a queen surveying her kingdom, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she watched you. Ekko was by the bar, deep in conversation with someone who looked just as enamored with him as he was with his drink.

Then, there was Vi. Leaning against the wall near the edge of the dance floor, drink in hand, her sharp blue eyes locked onto you. You weren’t sure how long she’d been watching, but her expression was unreadable, her lips pressed into a thin line. It was like she was caught between amusement and something else—something heavier.

For a moment, the room seemed to spin a little slower. The blonde woman grabbed your hand, pulling you closer, and you let yourself go again, never breaking eye contact with Vi. Not as you kissed the blonde, or as her friend leaned in to claim her own moment with you. The bass thudded around you, drowning out the world, but the intensity of Vi’s stare burned through the haze like a spotlight.

Eventually, you peeled yourself away, making your way back to your booth. Jinx was waiting, perched on the edge of the seat with a shot glass of something bright purple in her hand. Three more shots were lined up neatly on the table, like soldiers ready for duty.

“When did you have time to get more shots?” you asked, eyebrows raised as you slid into the booth beside her.

She grinned, her signature mischievous smile spreading across her face. “While you were busy sucking face with the two hotties, of course.”

You rolled your eyes, but the flush creeping up your neck betrayed you. Before you could respond, Vi and Ekko appeared, almost as if summoned by Jinx’s teasing. Vi’s expression was carefully neutral, but her eyes flicked to you for just a second too long before she sat down across from you.

“What did we miss?” Ekko asked, his eyebrows raised as he slid into the booth, glancing between you and Jinx.

“Oh, nothing much,” Jinx said, her tone light but laced with mischief. “Just *someone* making out with not one, but two people on the dance floor.” She shot you a sly look, clearly enjoying herself.

Ekko barked out a laugh, grabbing one of the shots from the table. “That’s the kind of energy I like to see! Let’s keep it going!” He raised the glass in a toast, the excitement in his voice infectious.

“For someone who didn’t even wanna come tonight, you sure sound hyped,” you teased, grabbing your own shot glass. Your words were light, but you couldn’t ignore the weight of Vi’s gaze on you. She was sitting just across the table, silent as she swirled the drink in her hand, her expression unreadable. Was it disinterest? Annoyance? Something else entirely? You couldn’t quite pin it down, but it was enough to make your stomach flutter uneasily.

You hesitated for a moment, the glass cool against your fingers, before clinking it against Jinx and Ekko’s.

“To bad decisions,” Jinx declared dramatically, her wicked grin making it clear she had no regrets about anything that had happened—or would happen—tonight.

“To bad decisions,” you echoed, tipping the shot back in one swift motion. The alcohol burned on its way down, a sharp reminder of just how far you’d let yourself loosen up tonight. For a second, you thought about those fleeting moments on the dance floor—your hands tangled in blonde hair, the press of unfamiliar lips, and Vi’s eyes locked on yours from across the room.

──────────────────────

masterlist - chapter four

notes: special thanks to @entraptasimp for helping me with the name

vi is so hot in this fic i keep foaming at the mouth when i’m writing her 😭😭

taglist: @oidloid @saturnhas82moons @baylegend6 @vaebear

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 81

jack always looked so soft when he slept.

he had sharp features, sure, maybe mainly that jaw of his; and during his awake hours, you probably wouldn't have described his face as soft. but whenever he dozed off, it was a whole other story. he became a little baby, with his lips slightly parted and a few messy strands falling onto his eyelids. it wasn't too uncommon to hear him talk in his sleep, little mumbles about anything and everything or whispers of your name.

at this moment, you had just come to that same conclusion – he was ethereal, like a dream you were lucky enough to find yourself living in. it was impossible for you to ever predict what was about to come when his chest fell and rose under your hand, steadily and without a worry in the world. you were so busy just watching him that his voice startled you far too much.

"i can feel you staring."

when the surprise wore off and you could breathe again, you smiled ever so slightly and gazed up at his face. "you got a sixth sense or something?" you asked, heart fluttering at the sight of his pretty eyes finally open and connected to yours.

"i know everything when it comes to you." he turned around, now lying on his side and facing you. he reached up to cup your jaw with one hand, thumb skimming over your cheek tenderly before sliding back and brushing through your hair. it didn't take long before his lips were on yours, just a few quick pecks before stopping. "everything, and still not enough." he leaned in again, accidentally bumping his nose against yours on the way, which lead to a fit of giggles leaving your mouth open and ready for him to slip his tongue inside. you let out a little moan as a result, a sound that made all his blood rush south.

for a moment, neither of you moved, just enjoying the feeling of each others' mouths. the kiss was lazy and languid, yet full of affection. his lips were a little chapped at this hour, but you didn't mind; it was like the callouses of his hands, or the hardness of his defined muscles; just very him, a reminder of his rough and rugged edges yet how soft he was in the core. his hands fell down to your waist, tugging you closer until only the thin material of his cotton boxers were separating you.

"i really love having you here, you know?" he mumbled against your lips, his hands slipping beneath his oversized shirt you were currently wearing. "and… i love-"

he was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. you frowned instinctively, looking over his shoulder at the electronic clock on his bedside table. who would be ringing the doorbell at 8 in the morning? on a saturday?

you both laid still for a little while, hoping that maybe the person would go away once they realized that you weren't going to answer. just a few moments later, though, the bell sounded a couple more times, and jack groaned. "i'll be right back, i guess," he said, pressing one last kiss to your cheek before pushing himself up and out of bed, grabbing a random t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from the floor on his way out.

you tried to listen in on the conversation going on out there, but you were still quite sleepy, and jack accidentally – or intentionally – closed the door slightly behind him, so the sound was muffled. luckily, he came back not too long later.

however, he wore a mildly stressed expression on his face, eyebrows slightly raised and eyes tense. "uh… maybe you should get dressed."

you pushed yourself up a little, leaning back on your elbows as you tried to figure him out. "what? why?" jack stood there silently, searching for his words, and your heartbeat sped up. "who was at the door?"

his chest expanded as he took a deep breath. "my parents."

oh.

now you were wide awake.

"they- they came into town late last night. i told you about that, right? did i not? shit, i forgot about that, didn't i?" he was rambling now, stepping up to next to you, and you placed a hand on his side in hopes of steadying him. "i really was supposed to tell you, i swear. but their plane was delayed, and you came by so late, it was so unplanned, and-"

"breathe, jack." he paused for a moment before obliging, nodding slowly. "it's alright. are they still out there?"

"i kind of promised that i'd take them out for breakfast before they go back to the airport, they're going on vacation somewhere…" he looked genuinely guilty, as if he really felt bad about this whole situation. "and i may have accidentally mentioned that you were here, so they're hoping to meet you, and…"

ah, of course. jack had never before been able to shut up when he's been nervous, so why would you expect it now? "okay," you said, nodding as you rose from bed. "let me just get dressed?"

you picked up your underwear from the night before, though they were in no state to be used again, so jack tossed you a pair of boxers from his drawer. you silently cursed yourself for not bringing any extra clothes with you; as he said, you even coming over had been very impromptu, but there was no way he was going to say no to you asking if you could come by after a night out with your friends. his apartment had been closer than yours, after all, and you hadn't been wanting to pay for a cab all the way home when you could just as well crash at jack's. and, besides, one of your friends had spend half the night telling you about her lovely boyfriend, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been missing jack far too much when it was time to leave.

thus, you had to opt for a hoodie of jack's as well as the smallest pair of sweatpants he owned. you moved into the bathroom, rinsing your mouth in the sink and fixing your bedhead quickly as jack watched over you, seeming almost as nervous as you. only almost, though; the anxiety was just about to make your throat close up and your hands wouldn't stop trembling, even when jack held them in his. you couldn't tell if he was more worried for you or himself, but eventually you made your way together into the living room where his parents sat on the couch.

"mom, dad…"

you recognized jim and ellen from all of the pictures jack had showed you of their family vacations from when he younger. he always spoke of them with so much love and respect; it was easy to tell how important they were to him and how thankful he was to have had them, career wise and life wise.

the way ellen's face lit up as you made eye contact for the first time helped melt away some of your tension, though definitely not all of it. "this is y/n, my…" jack started before trailing off. what was he about to say? how was he going to describe you? what title did he want to give you?

ellen wasted no time jumping off the couch, standing right in front of you in just a second. "hello, dear," she said to cut off the silence, instantly engulfing you in a big hug. "it's really good to meet you!"

you laughed, unsure if it was due to your nerves or actual joy, and hugged her back. "you too," you told her, before moving on to jim who also seemed to want a hug.

"we've wanted jack to find someone for so long, and-" ellen cut herself off to give jack's upper arm a squeeze. "we're just so happy, because he's such a good boy, and you seem like a good girl, and i don't know how serious you two are, but if you're spending the night here-"

too serious, you thought to yourself before you could stop it. way too serious, way too soon.

"mom," jack complained, and you found yourself incapable of saying anything or laughing or even smiling. all muscles of your face were working on their own, impossible to control, and soon your ears left the picture, too. you saw their mouths move, you knew they were talking about you, but it felt like you were somewhere else, not included in the conversation.

when did all of this happen? one day, you were just fooling around in his bed – and now, you were meeting his parents. it felt like you met him just yesterday; like you didn't even know who he was two days ago. and now you were here, standing next to his mother who looked like she was planning your entire wedding in her mind as she spoke.

way too real, way too soon.

‎‎ jack ❤️‍🩹

‎‎ i'm sorry

for what?

‎‎ i can't be your girlfriend

‎‎ i don't even know if that's

‎‎ what you want me to be but

of course i do,

don't be silly

where is this coming from?

‎‎ one missed call from "jack ❤️‍🩹"

pick up the phone

‎‎ two missed calls from "jack ❤️‍🩹"

this isn't funny

answer me

‎‎ five missed calls from "jack"

[spideyanakin]

dancing, with tears in my eyes (c.s)

summary - district twelve! reader, when corionalus goes back to panem from the districts he has a simple rule, forget his past. But the universe does not seem to wish that, no when you get chosen for the 11th hunger games. [w.c 1.4k]

a/n - this is short I know!! and Im so sorry--but more will come if you guys like it hihi

coryo masterlist

back to main masterlist

Coriolanus could describe himself as a lot of things.

Ambitious. He knew his need for success only grew stronger with each breath he took. Fully conscious that his constant search to climb higher up the ladder of Panem was yet to reach a stalemate.

Handsome, or so he heard. He had lines of girls ready to bend their knees upon any requests, and his looks only grew with the momentum he was gaining.

He would also like to describe himself as powerful, at least becoming. His place in the university, Dr Gaul's recent request that he joins as game master for the 11th hunger games, and let's not forget the cash-in of the plinth fortune. All of those things managed to open a door or two that he was more than willing to go through.

But forgetful wasn’t a word he would choose to fit in his autobiography.

And it pained him that as he was looking at the line of soldiers parading across the streets of the Capitol, he started to believe that 'forgetful' wouldn't be such a bad choice of adjective to add to his collection.

Maybe he started to believe the lies he had fed to the sergeant and his grandma'am when they both asked about his dog tag.

'I must have misplaced it back in the district', the simple answer that he had started to believe was slowly picking at his gut--haunting with ghostly images of its true location.

Everything in his life was finally taking its rightful place. He was proud of what he had come back to, and he would be a fool to even think of letting any crumbs of it go. He would be a fool to let himself get distracted by fantasies of what now felt like a distant, other lifetime of his.

And he surely couldn't let something as silly as affection, love--distance him from glory. Let alone love stolen from the districts.

And that was the lie that had been repeating in his mind for the past year. What he had spoken to himself every day since he had left District Twelve and the memories that accompanied the journey.

And yet, even if he had hammered it in his mind. When his eyes closed for the final time tonight--like every night as of late; the thoughts of you haunted him.

The memories of his hand in yours as you dragged him across fields. His head resting against the plush of your thighs as you both rested beneath a tree. The way your lips felt against his as you leaned for a kiss, feeling you smile when he lifted a hand to your hair, gently cupping the back of your head to pull you further in.

God, he almost wished he was back there right now, in the haven of the forest, lodged in your embrace. A place where nightmares were laughed at, where paperwork and infantile gossip did not exist.

And like every time, the dream turned into a nightmare.

Coriolanus pressing chaste kisses to your lips before pulling his dog-tag over his head, your giggles and melodic voice as you questioned him. Wondering what he was doing before he placed the item securely around your own neck, muttering a promise.

Now Coriolanus was known to be a man of his word, and as he kissed your lips for the last time, hand firmly gripping your waist and the other brushing the stray tear away from your cheek, he meant it. He truly meant it with every fiber of his being.

He would be back for you.

As his touch became stronger, hungrier than usual as he attempted to remember every shape of you, every scent, everything that he could grasp as to remember you, he promised he would do anything he could to get back to you. That once he had finished his training in District Two, he would find a way to be with you again.

But the train led him back to Panem, not to district two, and when he gazed at the passing trees--it seemed that his promise was coming to a compromise.

So Coriolanus woke up with a cold sweat, again. Like most mornings he attempted to calm his jumping heart, trying to drain the panic from his lungs.

A cold shower. A cup of coffee, single, no sugar, and the sweetness of your lips faded into distant bitterness again. He was ready, ready to live by his ambition, charm, newfound power, and now more so, forgetfulness.

~

The reaping.

Your last year eligible.

You had made it this far, you thought as you twisted the hem of your dress. A fine pink summer dress; Coryo's favorite, you remembered as you ironed it this morning.

You hadn't worn it since. The color had seemed less bright after he left... All colors did. It pained you to remove the wrinkles on the skirt, as if yet another part of him was disappearing. As if the memory of him crawling on top of you, kissing you silly as he fisted your skirt would vanish. Like the ghost of his fingers would sizzle out of your bones.

But when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you realized that maybe you were grasping at straws.

It would be ok.

He would be back, and he would be more than happy to wrinkle all your dresses again.

So you breathed a big puff of air, closed your eyes, and took the last ounces of courage left in your bones.

You felt suffocated as you stepped foot outside of your home--your body taking through the dingy pathways towards the square as if you were on autopilot.

The crowd felt different and yet somehow similar. Just like every year, the new wave of youngest children, finally of age were there, shoved towards the front as the eldest fell back further away in the crowd; tired and finally soothed from the years of nerves.

This would be your last year of it all. Of anxiously washing and scrubbing every last inch of you, finding the perfect dress and the perfect pins for your hair. Your last year of twisting the hem of your dress as you waited amidst the tight crowd. As your mother held your arm while she bit the inside of her cheek--relieved every time it wasn't your name.

You could not say that the years made you use to it.

You watched as a women, dressed in a fine crisp blue suit, freshly shipped from the capital itself walked over the stage.

Everyone realised things would be different this year. She announced it in all her perfectly manicured glory. Everyone would be chosen by someone from the capital.

She introduced herself. Perky voice floating in an echo of anxious vibrations. You barely noticed the man beside her, wickedly grinning just as much.

Her perfect, long blue nails reached towards the bowl of names.

You looked down. The pebble on the floor felt more interesting. Sighing, your eyes closed by themselves, and suddenly the smell of flowers and the sound of pebbles being thrown in the lake flooded your senses.

Your shoulders relaxed, and suddenly Coryo’s eyes were staring back at you. His hands were grazing your arms, grasping at you, pulling you forward. His lips were on your forehead, and a smile pulled over your mouth.

peace.

soon, you thought. very soon.

"Y/n L/n"

Your head shot up, breath stuck in your lungs.

Everyone was staring.

"Y/n L/n! Come on now here darling."

You heard a scream; your brother maybe, you couldn’t make it out through the ringing in your ears.

You held your head high, trying to blink out the sting in your eyes. But maybe that wasn’t enough because you felt a hot streak cross your cheek, vision blurring.

The crowd had moved around you, and suddenly you felt a push on your shoulder. Peacekeepers.

Their hands latched around your shoulder and your legs followed their movements as they accompanied you to the stage, not as graceful as Lucy Grey. It was a miracle your knees didn’t buckle under their movements.

Your eyes caught the one of your left, and suddenly the grayish blue suits made a whole new other world collapse under your eyes.

Coriolanus.

He promised he’d be back for you. Promised you’d spend the rest of your days together, wherever it was that would allow the two of you to be.

Maybe he was just as terrified as you. Watching you get pulled away from the large tv as he attended another district’s reaping.

District 2, you remembered.

[thanosscross]

omgg I really loves your recent fic about twin! jiyong!! can I request bigbang and her group got invited to some variety shows and since jiyong and y/n is twins, they got ask to do some twins telepathy, where they sit face to face on a chairs with their hands connected to each other lolololll it would be so funny!

I absolutely love this idea! Love love love it!!

Double, Double, Combo part 3/? - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader + Twin! Ji-Yong

Summary: After agreeing to go to a variety show with the boys, you all end up having fun doing impressions of each other, and answering fan questions, afterwards, you overhear your new boyfriend explaining exactly when he first loved you.

Warnings: None lovelies! <33

After a long, long talk with your brother, you found common ground, You were dating Seung Hyun, even if he didn't like it, but you would make sure you weren't ruining any friendships between your groups in the process. On your last day of break, all eight of you were asked to appear on a variety show, which you happily agreed to, knowing you always had the most fun doing their cute little challenges and games.

As you made your way onto the set, you smiled brightly, taking notice to the different things they had laid out for the episode. As the director called action, you all quickly introduced yourselves "So! With that being said! Let's go into our first section of tonight's episode! Fans want to know these questions, first up, Tae-Yang" The host smiled, as Tae-Yang answered his question, you couldn't help but nod along to the music playing in your head. Ji-Yong taking notice to you not paying attention, quickly shot you a look, without needing to see it, you quickly sat up straight, listening closely to your brother's bandmate. "Woah! That helps lead into our next question, for the twins! Fans want to know, with how you interact on stage, do you have magic twin telepathy?" The host asked playfully, causing you and Ji to look at each other laughing loudly "I mean..I don't think so, I just like to believe I can read my brother's expressions well" You giggled, causing the host to give you a skeptical look "That's what I would say if I was hiding my super power too, would you mind showing us then. if you don't have telepathy, it shouldn't be an issue, right?" He asked teasingly, you just shook your head giggling as you and your brother moved to the bright green mat on the floor, your dress riding up slightly, due to you sitting on your knees in front of Ji, him sitting the same way, as Seung Hyun was quick to take his suit jacket and lay it over your lap to keep you covered.

Trying to stop your giggles as your brother dramatically placed his hands on your head "Really? I worked hard on my hair!" You giggled loudly, placing your hands on his face dramatically before closing your eyes tightly "Okay! Y/n, what is your brother thinking of?" The host asked, smirking to yourself you giggled loudly "That Y/n is the better twin" You laughed, your brother's eyes opening quickly as he laughed "Yea right! In your dreams, Yeo-dongsaeng!" he laughed, placing his hands back on your head, trying his best to keep his laughs suppressed as he started to think of something to say for what you were thinking of. "G-Dragon?" The host asked, using his question cards to hide his smile "Y/n thinks Seung Hyun is cute" He laughed, watching as your cheeks grew red with a blush, you both had decided that you'd keep things private for now, so now you had to channel your inner actor, and act like you weren't currently sleeping in Seung Hyun's bed at night. "I do not, oppa! I'd date Dae-Sung before I would T.O.P!" You whined loudly, glancing at Seung Hyun as you spoke, quickly shooting your brother a playful glare as him and your shared friends, laughed at your reaction. "Okay! Okay! Before this turns into a dating show! Let's move on to our next question." The host shouted loudly as he laughed, as you moved from section to section, you laughed as your brother spoke about his and the boys' impressions "Oh no, I like to think I have a pretty good impression of my brother, but Su-mi has the absolute best" You smiled brightly turning the attention to your best friend of your group, she just giggled softly as she nodded "It's easy! Especially if he's singing!" She laughed softly, before singing his verse to Bae Bae, you quickly picking up where she ends, trying to remember Seung Hyun's part the best you could, stumbling over your words at the end "I'm sorry! I'm flustered!" You giggled covering your face "Y/n and I like to cover their songs whenever we're bored in the studio" Your friend admitted as she giggled, you just gasped dramatically "Su-mi! You can't say things like! Ji-Yong might start thinking I actually like him being my brother!" You teased laughing, watching as your brother laughing loudly. "So, we had something else planned, but with all this new knowledge, I think, we should do an impression of groups? Boys if you can perform one of the girls' songs better than they can one of yours, they have to buy you anything you want as a group collectively, girls same goes for you" The host explained laughing, motioning you all over to find what song you wanted to perform.

What you thought was the only round, was fun, as soon as you and your friends wrapped up your performance, the host laughed "Okay! Okay! That was impressive from both sides! BigBang, you were on top of that one! but now, I want to see the two who tried the hardest compete, T.O.P! Y/n! Please step forward to pick a song!" The host laughed, panting you looked at him in shock "What!? Again!?" You playfully shouted as you slowly walked over, scrolling through the songlist again, giggling as you pressed yours quickly, adding it to play after Seung Hyun's choice, there was no way you were going first, you needed a breather first. You watched as Seung Hyun swung his hips to your music, turning his head to look at the camera over his shoulder as he started to sing along with the lyrics playing through the speakers. As it got to the chorus, Seung Hyun made his way to you, cupping your cheeks as he sang before turning away dramatically as he laughed, having to take a moment to compose himself again before finishing out the song. You and your brother were in tears laughing, finding it more than entertaining watching Seung Hyun put his all into trying to pretend to be you, as he took a seat next to Ji-Yong, he smirked "Top that, Y/n" He said playfully, swiping his imaginary long hair over his shoulder as you stood up laughing.

As the music for 'Doom Dada' played, you giggled, trying to stay on beat as you turned around, starting to rap the first verse, throwing your own spin on his choreography as you started to sing the chorus. Seung Hyun couldn't hold back his laughs watching you try your best to act like him on stage. Getting into the music more, you nodded along as you sung the second chorus, feeling nervous as you heard the instrumental for the ending rap build up. As you steadied yourself, you tried to keep up, proving successful until the last few lines, instead trying to hide it by just repeating 'dadada' in the same tone as the rap. Seung Hyun was quick to notice, laughing loudly as he jumped to his feet pointing at you "I win! I win! She messed up!" He laughed jokingly, watching as you blushed letting your head drop in defeat "What can I say? Nobody can do it like T.O.P" You giggled, high fiving your boyfriend as you walked past, taking a seat again next to your brother, who was still laughing at your attempt to rap.

Whenever the Variety show was finished filming, you were all rushed back to the hotel for rehearsals, which ended up running until about two AM. Seung Hyun quick to follow you back to your group's side of the suite, smiling as you scooted over in your bed motioning for Seung Hyun to lay down "You looked good in rehearsals today" He smiled softly, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close to him "Thank you, handsome, You looked amazing" You smiled, cupping his cheek gently as you sighed "What was that for?" He chuckled, moving his hand to mimic yours "I just..- You're awesome and I'm so happy with you" You sighed, not being able to find the words to match your feelings correctly, pecking his lips gently before leaning against the pillows "I'm happy with you, Jagiya" He smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead gently before pulling away, both of you laying there whispering to each other until you finally fell asleep.

Waking up the next morning, you'd be left in your bed, alone, Seung Hyun sitting in the living room talking quietly with your brother. "So you understand, then?" Ji-Yong asked softly, glancing towards your bedroom door and then Seung Hyun "It's not that I don't want you together, I'm happy! I just..if something ever happened between you two..you understand I'd always be on her side" Ji-Yong rephrased, he hated saying it out loud, especially because Seung Hyun was his hyung, someone who he'd always stand by, but at the end of the day, but you were also his twin sister, so it was always you over anybody at the end of the day. "Yes, Ji, I understand, I promise, it won't ever come down to that" Seung Hyun smiled softly, giving his friend a soft hug "I've loved Y/n since she first ran into the studio, yelling at you for telling your mother that she was wearing a two piece dress for her first show" He chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair nervously "You remember that?" Ji-Yong laughed, in shock his friend remembered something that was from your debut, Seung Hyun just nodded, chuckling softly "Yes, I do remember it, she was so cute! The way she just barreled through the doors and boys, just to yell at you for being a 'tattletale'" Seung Hyun replied, smiling softly, a blush quickly rising to his cheeks as he noticed you tiredly making your way into the living room area.

"Kwon Ji-Yong, if you're spilling my secrets again, I might just have to fucking kill you" You threatened, watching as he gave you a shocked look "No! I was talking with my friend!" he protested in reply as you crossed your arms "My boyfriend" You argued, moving to sit down next to Seung Hyun, leaning into his side as he wrapped his arm around you "Okay, Okay, children" Seung Hyun jokingly called out, laughing as you both stopped and looked at him, you gave your brother one last playful glare before looking back towards the older male. "Why didn't you wake me up?" You asked softly, pulling your knees to your chest as you tilted your head, Seung Hyun just smiled at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before glancing at your brother "Ji woke me up, and asked if I'd let you sleep" He replied, pulling you close as Ji-Yong gasped playfully "You know, I'm feeling very attacked right now" He joked, laughing softly as you grabbed your brother's arm playfully "I'm so sorry, I love you, Oppa, you're an amazing big brother" You giggled, watching as he playfully thanked you, almost like he was accepting an award, causing you to giggle loudly, leaning back against the couch.

Stage rehearsals were slightly stressful, this time going without any issues other than certain mics not working, or dancers not remembering their choreography. Standing on the stage, you laughed loudly "Hi, welcome to my tv show, called...I don't know" You giggled, motioning for you brother and the choreographer to follow you backstage, laughing loudly as you noticed Dae-Sung on Seung Hyun's shoulders, Tae-Yang trying his best to stay in a handstand. Su-Mi and the other girls trying their best to stay posed like the boys during their sets "Where I have to live and work with this" You replied finally through giggles, squealing as you noticed your brother recording you all as they both laughed. As Seung Hyun let Dae-Sung down, he quickly rushed to your side, smiling "Want to go out for dinner tonight, Jagiya?" He asked lowly as he leaned down closer to your ear "Of course, but don't speak to me like that again" You giggled softly, smacking his arm playfully "it's hot" You added on before making your way over to the sound box, dropping off your equipment, that way they could charge them up for your show tomorrow tonight.

Ji-Yong watched as you and Seung Hyun walked out together, feeling himself smile softly "So! Ji! What do you think about those two?" Dae-Sung giggled, Su-Mi close behind smiling "Aren't they adorable together?" She asked, smiling as Ji-Yong nodded in agreement "I'm happy seeing my yeo-donsaeng happy, and I'm happy seeing hyung happy, and that's all that matters right?" He replied, giving his bandmate a worried look "You just don't want to see them hurt" Dae-Sung assumed, watching as his friend nodded softly "Have hope in them, they're both mature adults, any issues they have, I'm sure they'll work it out in a mature civil way" Su-Mi smiled, trying to convince your brother that you and Seung Hyun were locked in together. "R-Right, right" Ji-Yong agreed, messing with his rings.

You and Seung Hyun on the other hand, would be in the hotel room, smacking each other with pillows as you argued playfully over where to eat "Okay! Okay! You win!" You giggled loudly as you dropped onto the bed, playfully falling limp as Seung Hyun laughed "Yes! I promise, You'll love this place, Jagiya" He smiled, leaning over to kiss you softly, you happily sat up, kissing him back, pouting whenever he pulled away "Ready to go eat?" He smiled, knowing you were now upset over him pulling away "I guess, only if you kiss me one more time" You laughed, resting your hand on the back of his neck as you pulled him into another kiss.

--

What do you think lovelies? Two posts in a row tonight! Excited to hear from you all!! <333

--

Taglist!!

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[scoutofmymind]

Mama scout mi Reina! Would you be open to writing an AU of Luigi? A little supernatural ish perhaps 👀

Saw You in a Dream — { Luigi x Reader }

Content: NSFW— MINORS DNI dream-kissing lol, yearning, some pining I suppose, reader is an uninspired artist, Luigi is a figment of her imagination.

Wc: 4,153

Notes: ONEIRIX™ is a dream enhancement supplement designed to intensify and prolong REM sleep experiences.

AN: I DO plan on continuing this if requests for it are abundant. I have many, many ideas for how this story could go, but I will tell you, it’s a lil…. Twisted hehe. Also, my darling anon, I know this isn’t really “supernatural” but in hopes of not writing 10k again and learning when to stop, I must note that more supernatural elements will be tied in if this is requested enough for a continuation. Love you xox

"What's wrong with old-fashioned, regular dreams?" You stare across the table at Bailey, who leans forward with an almost evangelical intensity, her blue eyes gleaming with the same fervor as when she pitched her start-up ideas or insisted everyone try CrossFit. "Is nothing sacred anymore? Do we have to optimize and upgrade every last human experience?"

"No," Bailey says, drumming her fingers against the table, her half-eaten omelette growing cold. She keeps shaking her head as if your resistance personally offends her. "These are revolutionary — they're going to change the way we think, bitch." The words come out with practiced casualness, like everything else about her these days.

She flicks a small pink baggie across the table, four obsidian-black pills rattling inside like tiny meteorites hurtling straight toward your earth.

"No." You slide the baggie back with a single finger, as if even touching it too long might leave a stain. "I don't need another vice."

"It's non-addictive." Bailey leans in, her voice dropping to that silky-smooth pitch she used to use selling timeshares in Miami. Despite her earlier promise that she wasn't working for them, you catch that familiar gleam in her eye — the one that surfaced with every pyramid scheme and side hustle she'd dragged you into. "I just need you to experience it. Just once."

The baggie sits between you like a dare, its pink sheen catching the diner's fluorescent lights, making the black pills inside gleam like wet ink.

"It could really inspire your art." She slides a journal across the table — black, unmarked, expensive-looking. "I've filled this thing with ideas already. It’s only been a week.”

She's found your weak spot now.

Those late-night calls, the wine-soaked confessions about your creative drought, the mounting pressure from your agent — it's all ammunition. "This could be your saving grace," she adds, and the words sink their hooks in deep. Your fingers twitch toward the baggie, career desperation beginning to outweigh your better judgment. “I’m dead serious.”

"Fine." You snatch the baggie and shove it deep into your purse, somewhere between old receipts and forgotten lipliner, secretly hoping it'll vanish into that void where hair ties and spare change go to die. "Give me the pamphlet. You clearly don't need it." You thrust out your hand, and Bailey practically glows as she slides over the sleek Oneirix packet, its metallic lettering catching the light like a sign you're choosing to ignore.

The pills had disappeared into your purse's black hole until Bailey's FaceTime lit up your phone the next afternoon. There she was, sleep mask pushed up like a crown, her face dewy with her latest hundred-dollar moisturizer. "So, did you try it?" Her grin was expectant, eager — the same look she'd worn pushing juice cleanses and crystal healing.

You glance at your desk, where half-finished canvases gather dust and untouched notebooks mock your creative drought.

Last night had been your usual routine; an hour-long shower where you'd solved all of life's problems and remembered none of them, three episodes of that show you're still trying to convince yourself you enjoy, and quality time with your artistic inadequacy.

"Not yet." You mumble around a spoonful of ice cream, your attention split between Bailey's glowing face and whatever's playing on Netflix — neither getting your full focus.

"Girl," she clicks her tongue, and you can hear the judgment dripping through your phone speaker. "Go get them — are you scared?" The question hangs there, pointed and precise, like she's daring you.

You hate how well she knows you, how easily she can press that particular button.

Being called scared has always been your kryptonite, ever since she first met you at that high school gallery opening where you'd been too anxious to mingle.

"No." Your face twists into a scowl at her accusation. "I just forgot." You hit pause, abandoning both your show and melting ice cream to dig through your purse.

You find the baggie too easily, the pamphlet's glossy surface catching the light as you unfold it, its clinical text stark against the dark background.

ONEIRIX

DREAM ENHANCEMENT SUPPLEMENT

FOR INTENSIFIED & PROLONGED REM SLEEP EXPERIENCES

The instructions read like any over-the-counter medication.

One tablet, 30 minutes before bed, standard warnings about machinery and other medications.

"Okay." The pamphlet lands on your counter, its unread warnings fanning out like discarded playing cards. "Will it make me tired, or do I already have to be—"

"Oh, it knocks your ass out." Bailey's voice drifts from your abandoned phone, tinny and distant. You wrestle with the baggie's seal, the plastic refusing to cooperate until it suddenly gives, spilling one glossy black pill into your palm. "It works a hell of a lot faster than thirty minutes, too," she adds through a yawn.

You swallow the pill, and before you can even contemplate moving from the kitchen to your bed, a heaviness seeps into your limbs like honey dripping down glass.

Bailey's already drifted off on FaceTime, her gentle snores creating a strange duet with your own as consciousness slips away once you make it to the couch faster than falling.

The transition is jarring — not the usual soft fade into nonsensical dreams, but a sharp snap into awareness. You know you're dreaming, the way you know your own name, the way you know the sky is blue. It's like someone's turned up the saturation on reality, made everything clearer and brighter than it has any right to be.

This isn't the usual dream-fog where your brain accepts that your childhood home has suddenly sprouted wings or that your teeth are falling out at a gallery show.

This is different.

This is aware.

You wiggle your toes in the grass — actual, individual blades tickling your feet, not the vague suggestion of grass that usually populates dreams. Your manicure catches the sunlight, that specific shade of dusty rose you picked last Tuesday, tiny chips and all.

The rings on your fingers still catch when you twist them, that familiar nervous habit following you even here. Everything about you is preserved with photograph precision, dropped into this impossible elsewhere.

"Jesus," escapes your lips, the word carried away by a breeze that feels too perfectly warm to be real. The butterflies dance overhead like confetti caught in reverse, their wings painted in colors that might not exist in the waking world. You watch one land on a nearby flower, and you can see every detail of its wings, every tiny pattern — the kind of detail your sleeping mind has never bothered with before. "This is fucking-"

“Hey.”

The voice cuts through your wonder, and you spin, heart somehow racing in this dream-that's-not-quite-a-dream.

He's there, solid as the ground beneath your feet — no dream-logic shimmer or fade around the edges. Tall, with shoulders that could carry atlas's burden, and features that seem carved rather than grown. His smile plays at the corners of his mouth like he knows a secret you don't, but it's not threatening. If anything, it pulls at something in your chest, a curiosity that feels dangerous in its intensity.

"Hey," you echo, the word coming out softer than intended. Your eyes sweep the meadow, searching for other dreamers or figures or whatever they might be called here. But it's just him, just you, just this perfect pocket of perpetual summer afternoon stretching out in all directions.

"S'just me." His hand extends between you like a bridge, and you notice how the sunlight catches on his knuckles, creating shadows you could count. No name follows, just that smile deepening into dimples.

"Your name?” You tilt your chin down, adopting the pose of someone who's seen too many crime documentaries to trust a nameless stranger, even in a dream. Your eyebrows arch high enough to feel the stretch — another impossible sensation that feels too real.

"Seems you haven't decided yet."

"I haven't decided?"

He shrugs, the gesture rippling across those shoulders like a wave, and something flickers in his expression - like a TV losing signal for just a moment. "Yeah." He blinks, and you can see him searching his own mind, coming up empty. "Haven't decided yet."

Your eyes travel his form like you're memorizing a sculpture. The elegant taper from broad shoulders to narrow waist, the careful strength in his forearms, the way he holds himself — somehow both completely at ease and coiled with potential energy. His eyes meet yours with that puppy-dog hopefulness that seems at odds with his imposing frame, that half-smile still playing on his lips.

"Lu—ee-" The sound stretches between you, and you can taste the wrongness of it. Your head tilts, and suddenly it clicks. "Luigi."

Luigi nods, a slow, knowing motion, and reaches behind him. The wallet arcs through the air, and when you catch it, the leather feels warm, like it's been sitting in summer sunshine. It falls open in your hands, and there it is — Luigi Mangione, printed in stark bureaucratic certainty. "I thought you'd say that."

The urge to gasp, to stumble back in shock, rises and falls like a wave. Reality — or whatever version of it this is — reasserts itself with the gentle persistence of tide coming in. Of course you knew his name. Of course you did. Just like you knew the exact shade of his eyes, the precise angle of his jaw, the way his right dimple is slightly deeper than his left.

There’s a reason he feels familiar.

You made him.

"Well, Luigi," The name feels like syrup on your tongue as you pivot, bare feet finding their path through grass as the sun drapes over your shoulders like a tailored shawl, warming without burning, perfect in that way only dreams can manage. "I'm sure you know who I am."

Luigi falls into step beside you, a flag leaf dancing between his lips as he walks.

His presence feels as natural as your shadow, a complement to your movement rather than an intrusion. "Of course," he says, and his voice carries the same gentle warmth as the sunlight, the same easy invitation as the wind that plays with your hair.

The grass gives way to reveal a pond that looks like liquid mercury in the sunlight. "I've been waiting awhile for you — seemed to have run out of ways to pass the time."

You stand at the water's edge, watching swans carve elegant paths across the surface, their reflections perfect mirrors in the still water, and in the distance, ducks conduct their quiet conversations. "Are you saying you're bored of everything here?"

"No," Luigi's fingers brush your sleeve, gentle but insistent, like a breeze that knows where it's going. As he steps forward, wildflowers burst into existence beneath his feet — first violets, then daisies, then flowers you've never seen before, in colors that shouldn't exist. "I'm saying it gets lonely doing the same thing everyday on your own."

Luigi continues forward, leaving his galaxy of flowers behind, but you find yourself frozen, watching the way the light catches his silhouette.

"How many times?" The question escapes before you can catch it. "How many times have I been here and left?"

He pauses mid-step, and for a moment, the whole dreamscape seems to hold its breath — the swans pause their gliding, the breeze stills, even the wildflowers stop their eager blooming. When he turns to face you, his smile carries a gentleness that makes your chest ache.

"It’s been so long, but — " he pauses, and somehow the words don't sound like an accusation. "Sometimes for seconds, sometimes for hours. Sometimes you remember me, sometimes you don't. But you always come back eventually. And I'm always here."

You swallow, “How long has it been?"

His laugh drifts through the air, light and melodic. "Long enough that I've watched these trees grow from saplings." His bare feet shift in the grass, toes curling against the earth. "Long enough that I've named every swan on this pond, then named their children, and then their children's children."

The wildflowers continue once again their blooming beneath his steps — first soft pinks, then deep purples, then blues that seem to glow from within. Each petal unfolds with deliberate precision, creating a trail that marks his path across the meadow.

You notice how he holds himself, the way his shoulders stay perfectly squared, his posture too fluid, too precise for someone who's supposed to be just a figment of your dreams. "So I looked different last time?" you wonder, trailing behind him again, catching the slight nod.

"We were both younger then." Luigi turns back to you and grins, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’ve really missed you."

His voice carries the warmth of old sunlight, that rare sincerity that can't be fabricated — something in his presence that felt secure, anchoring, his nature as gentle as summer rain.

But the look in his eyes betrayed what his smile tried to hide — he knew you didn't remember him, and that knowledge lived somewhere deep and wounded inside him.

You could see it now, in the careful way he held himself back, how his initial greeting carried just enough warmth to be kind but not enough to overwhelm. Your memory of him had been burning away like lit matches with each passing year, while he'd been trapped here, holding onto every detail of who you used to be.

Luigi lead you further into the meadow, another pond materializing somewhere further into the deep but Luigi seemed far too familiar with this terrain, and you trusted each turn, “Have I given you different names?”

He shakes his head with a laugh, soft and bittersweet, almost as if he couldn't imagine wearing any other name than your Luigi. "No." He scrunches his nose, a gesture so achingly familiar it feels like déjà vu. "One time I almost thought you were going to, but — nope. Always some variation of Luigi."

The questions dance at the edges of your consciousness like autumn leaves in a wind, but somehow the answers are already there, settled in your bones like old truths. Why he lets you choose, how he knows when recognition lights your eyes and when they stay dark with forgetting — it's all written in a language your mind has forgotten but your heart still speaks fluently.

"I saw you for a minute somewhere near the streams last winter." His voice softens, eyes distant as if watching memories drift past like leaves on water. "It was only for a split moment — but I knew it was you, even though you'd changed."

Your heart twists with a horrible dread, sharp and cold as winter frost, weighed down by the certainty that he'll slip through your fingers like morning mist the moment you wake. "How do I make myself remember?" The words fall soft as prayer between you both, your knees brushing as you sit beside him.

He turns to you with that gentle patience that speaks of having heard this same desperate question from your lips a hundred times before, in a hundred different dreams.

He draws your hand into his lap with practiced ease, his fingertips ghosting over yours like butterfly wings — a gesture so deeply ingrained it speaks of countless similar moments, his soul remembering the map of your hands better than your own mind does. It doesn't feel strange to fall back into these rhythms with Luigi; everything has felt as natural as breathing since you landed here, like slipping into a dance your feet never truly forgot. "I know parts of me remember you," you whisper into the space between heartbeats, watching his fingers trace invisible patterns across your skin. "I know you feel familiar.”

Luigi nods slowly, pressing your palm to his cheek with a gentle sigh that carries the weight of a thousand forgotten moments. "We never learned how to make you remember," he murmurs, his voice wrapped in forced lightness that can't quite mask the undertow of grief beneath. "Always a toss up."

You swing your feet from the mossy ledge where Luigi sits, the ancient stone cool beneath you both.

He leans back on his palms, wearing a smile that's equal parts joy and resignation — a man who's learned to find peace in fleeting moments.

There's something heartbreaking in how he's already accepted that this too will slip through the sieve of your memory, but still treasures your presence like water in a desert, grateful just to have you here at all.

"I'll remember this time." The words spill out like a vow, fragile as spun glass but burning with conviction. Even as you speak them, you know they might shatter come morning, but something feels different here — each detail crystalline and alive, from the whisper of wind in the leaves to the warmth of his shoulder against yours.

This doesn't feel like the usual gossamer threads of dreams; it feels like stepping through a door into somewhere achingly real.

"Mm." Luigi's shoulder brushes yours, a gentle pendulum of contact, and though his hum carries years of gentle disbelief, he can't suppress the smile that softens his features. "All that matters is that you're here now, I think."

You nod slowly, watching your legs paint pendulum shadows against the water below. "Is there anyone else here?" The whisper slips out conspiratorial and soft, your eyes scanning the peaceful landscape as if its emptiness might be deceiving.

"No." Luigi shrugs, tossing a stone into the pond where it breaks the surface in perfect ripples. "You thought up a couple weird little-“ he scrunches his nose, lost in the memory of your previous creations — specifically those tiny Trojan warriors you'd accidentally willed into existence, who'd turned the peaceful fields into their own private battlefield. "It's just never worked out." He turns to you with a glimmer of fond exasperation, pressing a knuckle into your thigh. "You've got a rather dangerous imagination."

You swallow the question rising in your throat, deciding some doors are better left closed — for the sake of whatever fragments of sanity you still possess.

If there are any left to guard.

"Dangerous," you echo in a whisper, fighting back a bubble of laughter that threatens to spill over. "Well, scratch that, then.”

"It's always been you and me here." Luigi nods slowly, his voice taking on that particular texture of someone guarding something precious. "Outsiders make me nervous."

From that careful admission, you piece together a history of well-intentioned mistakes — multiple attempts at populating this sanctuary that ended in ways that left shadows in Luigi's voice. Each failure seems etched in the spaces between his words, a collection of experiments gone wrong. "That's fair," you murmur, reaching for his hand with gentle curiosity. He surrenders it without hesitation, letting you trace the lines of his palm like a map of all your shared disasters.

There's something profoundly real in the way his skin warms yours, in the faint calluses and subtle creases — too detailed, too imperfect to be mere imagination, yet too perfect in its imperfection to be anything else.

"How is the gallery stuff going?" His question floats between you, and for a heartbeat, confusion sparks — how could he know about the gallery?

But the answer settles over you like dawn breaking.

Of course he knows.

He knows the way your hands shake before each opening, the doubt that pools in your stomach when you face a blank canvas, the elation of a perfect brushstroke. He knows your fears dressed in their Sunday best and your dreams in their rawest form.

You made him.

Crafted him from stardust and loneliness, shaped him from the clay of your subconscious until he became more real than reality itself — your most perfect creation, yet the one you can never quite remember come morning.

"I haven't been inspired in — god," you trail off, turning to truly see him, and the dormant artist in you awakens with a sudden, fierce hunger. The sunlight plays architect with his features, gilding each detail you'd unconsciously perfected; those midnight curls catching light like cut obsidian, the almost-symmetrical beauty marks dotting his cheeks like carefully placed stars, the classical slope of his nose that Renaissance masters would have wept to capture.

Your fingers twitch with phantom muscle memory, aching to translate him from this dream-reality to paper, to make permanent what feels so ethereal. "So long." The words fall soft and wondering, as if you've suddenly remembered how to speak a forgotten language — the language of creation, of beauty, of art itself.

Luigi hums softly, nuzzling your shoulder with a familiarity that sends your thoughts spiraling backward through time. "Well, let's get you inspired," he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck, and suddenly you're wrestling with questions you've been too afraid to examine.

The intimacy of the gesture opens a door to memories of your teenage self — those raw, lonely years when you were all sharp edges and desperate yearning, underwhelmed by fumbling high school romances and overwhelmed by feelings.

You created him then, in those twilight hours between childhood and adulthood. A friend first, undoubtedly — a sanctuary in human form when the real world felt too abrasive to bear.

But now, feeling the casual tenderness of his touch, you wonder about the blurred lines in your shared history. If perhaps you'd written more than friendship into his DNA during those hormone-soaked nights, those moments when loneliness wore your resistance thin.

You melt into his warmth, drawn by a gravity as familiar as breathing, like a desperate moth to a flame you've danced with a thousand times before. "How do we do that?" The question hangs deliberately innocent, though electricity already hums beneath your skin with anticipated answers.

Luigi's response is immediate and devastating — the warm, wet slide of his tongue painting a deliberate path up your neck. Time stretches as he savors you, the gesture somehow both predatory and reverent.

"Maybe we could jog your memory, too." His voice drops to that particular octave that makes your bones liquid, left hand claiming your chin while his right arm becomes a band of heat around your waist, orchestrating your body until you're straddling his lap. "I remember exactly the things you like the most," teeth graze your pulse point as his hands span your back, fingertips pressing into your spine like he's playing music only he knows the notes to, "and the things you hate."

"How do you know those things haven't changed, Lu?" Your fingers find sanctuary in his curls, each strand impossibly soft, and the breeze carries the essence of August - sun-warmed grass, distant thunderstorms, ripening fruit. The scent of endless summer, bottled in this perfect moment.

"I guess there's only one way to find out, don't you think?" The question unfolds like a flower between you as Luigi tilts his head back, studying you through heavy-lidded eyes.

His lips part, pink and promising, an unspoken dare wrapped in velvet invitation. And you — you who have always been more poet than pragmatist — surrender to the gravitational pull of him. You lean in like a sunset chasing the horizon, drawn to the heat of his mouth, the shared breath between you becoming sacred thing.

His tongue moves against yours with practiced poetry, his lips a tender geography you're rediscovering. Every nip of teeth is precisely timed, a choreography written in muscle memory and want. Just as his hands find the warm skin beneath your shirt, reality fractures — a void tears through the dream like ink spilled across a watercolor.

The darkness swallows everything, sudden and absolute.

You jolt awake with violence, heart thundering against your ribs. The familiar couch cushions press against your cheek, mundane and mocking. The real world crashes back into focus with brutal clarity; the hum of the refrigerator, the tick of the wall clock, the morning light cutting through back scatter.

Each detail feels like a betrayal, a reminder that Luigi exists only in that liminal space between sleeping and waking, where longing takes shape and wears a face you crafted from starlight and need.

"No." The word escapes as a soft, desperate plea. Your hand reaches for the sketchbook and pen with the urgency of someone grasping at smoke, at fragments of a dream determined to dissolve.

And there he is — Luigi materializing before you like a miracle answering desperate prayers, your artist's eye already translating the divine geometry of his face onto paper before memory can steal him away.

You are the faithful at the altar, he the vision you're determined to make tangible.

The alarm screams again, reality's insistent hammer against your temple. "Fuck off!" you snarl, jabbing at the screen with unnecessary force, brows knitted with the particular fury reserved for things that dare interrupt worship.

The real world can wait.

Right now, there are curves of ink to capture, beauty marks to map, and the precise angle of summer sunlight in black curls to remember.

Hey, I think you were right about the pills

You text Bailey after lunch.

Holy shit

[lovesodakid]

shadows of the dark

matt sturniolo x reader

2

summary : growing up in the ‘middle of nowhere’ small town in lochcliff, colorado, stories were heard of multiple strange disappearances, murders, animal attacks, and more. when you were younger, you never paid attention to that stuff. now at the age of 17 it’s all you ever hear about. what happens when you realize those ‘stories’ you heard growing up, may not just be scary fairytales people tell their kids.

warning ⚠️ : contains mature themes, smut, gore (nothing insane), angst, etc. this warning is for all chapters.

(this does take some inspiration from tvd !)

chapter 1 : new beginning’s.

“y/n! breakfast!”

my eyes flutter open, my sleepy state slowly exiting my body as my consciousness floods through my mind. i take in a deep breath as i sit up in my bed. the sunlight from the early morning hours poking through my curtains, painting a beautiful blue and orange hue on my walls as i watch dust particles float along my room.

i look over to my wooden dresser across from me, my reflection staring back at me through the mirror above it. my pile of clothes i had chosen to wear for today the night before, picking out my outfit for my first day of my junior year.

when i was a kid, i was so excited to finally be a teenager. thinking of all the possibilities i could get. but ever since the day after i turned 16, i realized that being a teenager and growing up would be nothing but a disappointment and the little girl inside’s dreams and life was crushed that day.

“y/n! i’m not gonna yell for you again!” my mothers voice cuts through the silence of my thoughts.

“i’m coming!” i shout back as my feet make contact with the cold floor below me.

i shuffle myself to my bedroom door to shut it as i get dressed, the creepy creaking of the door making me shudder. the fact that this house is over 150 years old will never not cross my mind when i watch paranormal movies like the conjurings.

i quickly change into a tight fitted brown long sleeve shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans, given it’s the end of august now, the early mornings and late nights are becoming a little chillier compared to the june and july nights from the beginning of summer. lastly, throwing on some black converse and grabbing my backpack filled with untouched supplies for the new school year ahead. before i leave my room i decide on throwing on just a small silver necklace with my first initial of my name on it.

i exit my room and make my way down the squeaky wooden stairs. the squeaks and creaks acting as a calling to my mom to let her know i’m coming down.

“glad to see you finally grace us with your presence.” my mother states as she flips a pancake onto a grey glass plate, holding it up for me as i enter the kitchen.

i push my lips into a thin line as i nod and take the plate from her, uttering a small thank you as i sit at the kitchen island, placing my bag on the floor beside the black stood i sit on.

“corbin, are you taking your sister to school?” i hear her ask my older brother who sits beside me.

corbin, who’s a year and a half older than me, is now a senior. he’s the most typical semi-popular guy in our school. his fluffy brown hair and dark eyes is what pulls most of the girls’s attention. he’s a jock, but he says he doesn’t “fit in” with the rest of the football team so he stays more to himself. people know him but he doesn’t boast about his athleticism or his popularity.

he takes a sip of his orange juice before answering, “yeah i can. you ready?” he questions me.

i take one last bite of my pancake as i nod, standing up to grab my backpack. i swing it over my shoulder and walk over to the front door. “bye mom, love you.” i yell as i head out the door. i hear my brother telling her his goodbyes as i stroll to his car, opening the passenger seat door.

i watch him climb into the driver’s seat before he turns the radio on, immediately connecting it to his phone playing ‘tunnel vision’ by kodak black.

he turns his head to look both ways before pulling out of our rocky driveway. i turn to look at our house as i watch it fade into the distance. “so, you ready for junior year?”

“uh, yeah. what about you? are you ready for senior year?” i ask him in response.

he nods his head almost immediately. “oh yeah. i’m so ready to graduate and finally get out of this dumbass town.”

“agreed.” i speak as i lean back into seat.

silence takes over us as we continue the ride with the songs of my brothers choice fading to the back of my mind. the morning sky now being covered in a gloomy grey cast. the dead leaves ascending from the trees creating an orange blanket across the roads and sidewalks.

the car comes to a halt as we sit at a red light, i look around taking in notice of the beautiful scenery around us. historic buildings and parks flooding my eye-line, kids and teenagers on their way to the start of their new school years.

once the red light turns to green, we begin on our way again. i look back to my right, looking out the window, watching the trees and buildings pass by in a blur. i take notice of a guy walking with his headphones in, and his back turned to us, seemingly on the same route as we are. once we get closer to him to the point i can see his side profile coming into view, i watch him turn his head to look at the car coming beside him. the second he turns his view to the car, we lock eyes.

it’s almost as if time itself has changed, slowed down. i question myself on if i’ve ever seen him before but his face doesn’t ring any bells. he’s pale with icy blue eyes. a jaw that’s so sharp it looks like it could slice your finger open with even the softest and lightest touch. a stare so prominent and hypnotizing i almost forget my whole existence until he fades out of view.

i quickly turn myself to face in front of me. my eyebrows furrow as i try to understand what just happened to me and if it even happened. it felt like i entered a dream-like state while being fully awake.

“we’re here.” i hear corbin’s voice cut through the voice in my head as i feel the car come to a complete standstill.

i rapidly blinked my eyes as i see the high school building standing before me. not even realizing we were already at the school.

“you gonna get out or what?”

i quickly nod my head as i unbuckle my seatbelt and climb out of the car. i make my way towards the school alongside my brother. the sounds of students chattering among themselves as they walk into the building all around us.

“hey, junior year isn’t that bad. just keep your head up and you’ll be fine. i’ll see you after school.” corbin speaks to me as he parts from me to find his group of friends whom always meet up in the gym every morning, it’s been a routine of theirs since 7th grade.

i make my way to my locker, putting in the combination i wrote down on my notes app from the school’s letter they mail every student at the end of summer. the piece of paper giving them their class schedule, locker number and combination, etc.

“y/n!” i hear my best friend jayde’s voice through the loud obnoxious students at 8 am.

i turn around, flashing her a smile as i watch her come up to me. “hey jayde!”

“hey! i’m sorry we couldn’t hang out any this summer. what’s your schedule? maybe we have some classes together!” she says as she wraps me in a warm embrace.

jayde is very passionate about music and all of that. so the second our school announced that there would be a music and arts camp, she was the first to have her signature on the sign up sheet.

“no it’s okay and let me check.” i grab my class schedule out of my back pocket before i read off my classes, “first period is language arts, then history, math, then my free period, reading, gym, and science.”

she takes out her own schedule as she tries to match up any classes we may have together.

“ooo! okay! we have history, gym and our free period together!” she say enthusiastically.

as soon as i’m about to respond, the school bell cuts me off. the loud blaring shooting a pain through my mind reminding me of how much i despise school.

“okay well i’ll see you second period!” she struts off into the crowd of people, her long black hair bouncing with every step she takes.

i begin my own way to the room i’ll be entering at 8:10am every day on the dot for the next 9 months of my life.

the second i enter the classroom, my already present headache worsens with how painfully loud everyone is. different conversations and pencils being tapped on the wooden desks.

i walk to a free desk in the second row of the seat’s layout. the placement being in pretty much the middle of the classroom where i’m fully submerged by the persistent voices of students. as i sit down i stare off into the distance i wish i was back in my bed already.

a/n : i’m so excited to start this series! i started watching tvd again and it brought me inspiration to write this. plus vampire!matt is so fucking hot. anyways lmk if i should make a taglist or anything or if yall fw this and want me to keep going ! :)

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Family Man

Chapter 1: Beginnings

The year was 1986, and in the gritty streets of Detroit, a young Marshall Mathers, just 14, was finding his voice. Life wasn’t easy; the trailer park, the constant moving, and the absence of stability weighed heavily on him. But through the chaos, he discovered rap, a form of expression that allowed him to articulate his thoughts and feelings.

Marshall wasn’t the type to easily open up, but something changed when he met her. Y/N was new to the neighborhood, your family having moved from a quieter suburb after your father took a job in the city. You were everything Marshall didn’t know he needed—bright, kind, and genuine. You didn’t judge him for his rough edges or the anger he sometimes wore like armor. Instead, you saw the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide.

You met at a local park, where Marshall would often sit with his notebook, scribbling down lyrics. You, curious and bold, approached him one afternoon, y/c/h catching the sun as you smiled.

"Whatcha writing?" you asked, peering over his shoulder.

Marshall instinctively closed the notebook but then, seeing your genuine interest, hesitated. "Just some stuff," he mumbled.

"Can I see?" you pressed gently.

He handed it over reluctantly, watching your eyes scan the page. To his surprise, you nodded in approval. "This is really good," you said, handing it back. "You’ve got talent."

From that day, your bond grew. You became his confidante, the one person he could trust implicitly. Your family welcomed him with open arms, providing the stability and warmth he had long craved. Your father, a music enthusiast, even encouraged Marshall’s passion, letting him practice in your basement and offering advice.

You were a constant source of encouragement, helping Marshall stay focused on his dreams. You believed in him even when he doubted himself. Your love was young but profound, built on mutual respect and understanding. It was a love that was faithful, reciprocal, and light—a beacon in the darkness of Marshall’s world.

As the years passed, Marshall’s skills sharpened. He started making a name for himself in the local rap scene, always with you by his side. You were there for the highs and lows, from his first battle win to the moments when the weight of his past threatened to pull him down. Your presence kept him grounded, reminding him of the life he wanted to build—a life free from the toxicity and pain he had known.

Your relationship baffled those around you, especially as his fame and talent grew. In an industry often marked by scandal and fleeting romances, you and Marshall's enduring love was an anomaly. The media couldn’t understand how a young rapper, known for his raw and sometimes controversial lyrics, had managed to maintain such a healthy and lasting relationship.

But the real surprise came several years later, on the night of the Oscars. It was 2003, and Marshall had just won Best Original Song for "Lose Yourself." The world watched as he and his wife walked the red carpet together, your hands intertwined.

An interviewer approached, microphone in hand. "Marshall, everyone’s curious. What’s your secret to such a successful relationship? You’ve been with Y/N since you were teenagers, and it seems like your love has only grown stronger."

Marshall glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "She’s my rock," he said simply. "We’ve been through everything together. She believed in me when no one else did. I’m just lucky to have found my soulmate early on."

You squeezed his hand, your eyes shining with pride. "We’ve always supported each other," you added. "It’s about trust, communication, and never losing sight of what’s important."

The interviewer nodded, clearly impressed. "It’s rare to see such a grounded and genuine love story in this industry. You two are an inspiration."

As you continued down the red carpet, the cameras captured more than just a couple in love; they captured a story of resilience, hope, and the transformative power of finding the right person at the right time.

Marshall knew that his journey would have been vastly different without you. You had given him the strength to rise above his circumstances and become the man he was meant to be. And for that, he would be forever grateful.

Tags: @anjee0

[yall-batman-fanfic]

The Wrath of Wayne | Bruce Wayne/Batman x OC!Magician [Part 3/3]

Synopsis: In the last installment of The Wrath of Wayne, Bruce and Vivian finds a way to get out of their cages, and finally take down Thomas Wayne, Carmine Falcone, and Bane. To do that, they will need help in a form of a Cat and a Crow.

Morpheus.

He heard her calls and Lord Morpheus was furious to know where her daughter and granddaughter were kept. But Destiny has given an order, he has seen the outcome of this treachery and he cannot intervene. He may not go to the aid of his daughter directly but that does not apply to his dreams and nightmares, and his raven.

But the work is not over. 

He may not help Vivian in her predicament but that does not mean he cannot reach for Bruce Wayne who lays in the Pit. Left by his father after that battle. Appearing in that Pit, Dream watched as Bruce wheezed in pain as he breathed. The damage done by his father and Bane was done.

But Bruce Wayne cannot break. Not now, not when Vivian and Valerie were waiting for him. Not when his city needs him.

Kneeling before him, Dream placed his hand on Bruce's forehead. “I shall take away the pain and heal your injuries, but it will be up to you if you will push yourself again.”

“Viv… Vivian…” Bruce wheezed.

“Sleep, and let this dream help you find the answers you need, and when you wake, you will be with a friend. Take the time to heal and prepare but not too long for them to grow tired.”

“Vivian,” he wheezed again.

“Sleep, Wayne.”

Bruce slept, and when he woke up the pain was no longer there but his body still felt heavy, and when he opened his eyes he saw her sitting beside him on the sandy beach. 

“Hey, Bat,” Selina greeted him.

“Cat,” he whispered.

“I was on vacation but then a man who calls himself the Lord of Dreams came to my door and dropped you off like a lost kitten in a box and told me everything.”

“Cat.”

Selina got up, smiling down at him, and held out her hand to him, “Let me help you, Bruce.”

~ * ~

It has been weeks since they were exiled from their home, leaving them to try and fix the streets of Gotham. They managed to help the GCPD back to their HQ and control in most of their posts, and now they are still battling the the forces that Falcone have put up against them, and the Batman who was Thomas Wayne. 

They had a plan, with Wesker in the Manor doing Thomas Wayne's bidding, they can get him out of it by getting him the only person---thing---that he will listen to. Scarface. But trying to get to Wesker or even the manor was a risk they were not willing to do. Thomas Wayne has made Wayne Manor his, the last they met with that Batman he said that he has Vivian trapped in a glass dome that she cannot escape, and Val was in his mercy. 

“She misses you. All of you,” Thomas told Dick and Damian when they faced him at one of the nights of their patrol. 

“Then let her go,” said Damian.

“I know about Vivian's power. And as much as it pains me to put her there, it is necessary until she is ready to give in. Her and Bruce. The same goes for you all. My grandchildren.”

Dick scoffed. “Taking over Gotham and doing all this shit isn't the best way to get on our good graces. What about Val? Where is she?”

“She's safe with me.”

“THE HELL SHE IS!” Damian attacked Thomas Wayne. 

Thomas admits that his grandson was a good fighter but not that good. With on punch, he had Robin on the ground and under his boot, with a gun to his temple. “Might I remind you on what's at stake?”

Dick raised his hands in surrender. “We'll leave.”

“No. You'll leave, he goes with me,” Thomas punched Damian across the face, knocking him out and carried Robin away with him. 

Now, with Robin gone, the rest of them have been thinking of a way to get into the Manor and save their family. 

Good. That's exactly what they needed to happen.

~ * ~

Vivian held her daughter as Valerie slept in her arms peacefully. Weeks have passed since Thomas Wayne returned from where he left Bruce, and she was losing hope from the call she sent for her father's help. Maybe she was asking too much from him. Maybe she should have just asked him to call Constantine to help her there. 

The doors of the library opened again. Thomas has returned from his patrol and he brought someone with him. 

Damian.

Sitting up, Vivian watched as Thomas laid the boy on the ground before her, his face bloody from being punched, but he was still breathing.

“What did you do?!” Vivian demanded from Thomas.

“He attacked, but I couldn't do it. Not to my grandson.”

“Leave him here with me.”

“He'll stay with me in the Cave, where I can keep watch on him.” Thomas picked up Damian once more, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of wheat and left the library. 

~ * ~

As Damian hung upside down, he watched closely at his surroundings. He’s memorized the routine that this Batman has. He would come to the Cave to see to him, shift his ties, feed him, then leave for patrol. He won't be back until later, and when he does he has food and he tells him about Vivian and Valerie, how they were, how Vivian has been begging him to let her see him. Then he would tell him how he can release him but he must swear to him. 

Damian would always refuse. 

This time there was a change in his routine. Or sso Damian thought. The sound wasn't from Thomas but from a raven that flew from the darkness and to the light. 

“Ooff, got yourself tangled up there,” said Matthew.

“Raven,” Damian said.

“It’s Matthew. The boss sent me here to help out in whatever way I can… do you want me to…”

“No, this is exactly where I'm supposed to… but there is something I need you to bring to Mom.”

“You sure? You don't want me to take you down from that and you can bring it yourself?”

“That imposter has bested me, and he will continue to unless I have the others. I need you to bring this to Vivian,” Damian shifted in the knots and something dropped from him. An eyeball.

“Is that a…” Matthew stuttered.

“Mom will know what it is and she'll know what to do with it.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Alright,” Matthew took the doll's eye in his beak and flew away, back into the darkness and reappeared in the shadows of the library where the glass dome was. Thomas Wayne had just opened the panel to retrieve Valerie from Vivian so the toddler can sleep in her bed. Just as Thomas adjusted his hold on her, Matthew swooped down and dropped the doll's eye into the glass dome, making a loud clink that caught both Vivian and Thomas’ attention.

“What was that?” Thomas asked.

Quick to her feet, Vivian hid the eye under her and showed Thomas one of Valerie's trinkets. “I just dropped this.”

He looked at her for a moment then took the trinket from her then closed the panel. It was only when he left that Vivian took out the eye and inspected it. She knew what it was, and she knew what she had to do.

Looking around, she searched for the raven who had dropped this gift and saw him perched in the shadows.

“Tell Bruce, we'll be fine,” she told Matthew. “But he better get here fast.”

~ * ~

The next day, when Thomas Wayne came back to the library after patrol, he dragged with him a flock of Robins. Vivian gasped in horror at the sight of her children and hid Valerie from the bloody sight. All of them bloody and beaten, groaning in pain.

“What did you do to them?” She glared at Thomas.

“I went easy on them,” replied the man. 

“Now you've seen them. I'll let Alfred deal with their injuries.”

Vivian pressed her hand on the glass when she saw Dick look at her and nod stiffly. They'll be fine, nothing they can't handle, was what he wanted to tell her. 

“There is word about Bruce,” said Thomas. “He's back. He's here in Gotham, specifically in Arkham. He's come for Bane first.”

“If that's your way of saying that he chose to get his revenge on Bane before saving us to sway me to siding with you, you’re wrong. I know my husband, and I trust whatever strategy he has. And I know that he'll want to save you for last… That's what I would do.”

Thomas smirked and walked towards her. “I never knew this side of the Vivian from my world. I can never imagine that you will be so vengeful.”

“You never really knew her… and you will never know me,” Vivian glared at him. “When Bruce comes back here, and he will, I will watch as he beats your fucking ass, and when I'm free, I will gladly help him with it. For my husband, for my children, for Alfred, for me, and for desecrating Martha Wayne's grave, and for tainting the memory of Thomas Wayne. For all of that… I will send you to the darkest pits of Hell. I will give you a fate worse than death.”

“You are not my Vivian.” Thomas sneered.

“I never was,” Vivian smirked. “Enjoy the last moments of freedom, father-in-law.”

~ * ~

He had beaten Bane. He was so close to ending it all, not by death. Death would be too easy. He was just going to break the man's back but before he could, a sharp pain shot through this stomach. He was shot, and Bruce was brought down to the ground with Bane beside him, and the last sight he saw was his Father holding the gun at him. 

“Son,” Thomas said to him.

Then before he could fall to unconsciousness, Bruce saw Thomas Wayne point the gun at Carmine Falcone’s head and shot the man. The Roman was dead. Another era has come to an end in Gotham.

Bruce woke to the sight seated on a dinner table and his daughter in her crib. Jumping of the chair, toppling it over, Bruce ran to his daughter who was playing in her crib and then smiled when he saw him.

“Dada!” Valerie cheered.

“Val!” Bruce carried her in his arms. 

“Dada!” Valerie pulled on the cowl to see his face. 

Chuckling, Bruce removed the cowl and lets his daughter pressed her lips on his cheek and whisper “Dada” over and over, telling him how much she misses him. 

“How are you, my girl?” Bruce asked her.

Valerie looked at him for a moment and then started to babble away, telling him about the horrible things that happened, how she misses him, how the imposter kept taking her from her mom, and how Damian and the others got hurt. While Bruce did not understand a single thing, he still listened and kissed his daughter's forehead and said, “All with be set right now, Val. I promise.”

“Mumma…” Valerie mumbled.

“We'll look for her,” Bruce got up from the seat making Valerie whine. “Why, what's wrong?”

“Stay?” Valerie uttered.

“I will, but I need to go to work first. I need to get your Mom.”

Valerie whimpered and hugged her father tight. “Stay!” she said.

Bruce held her tight and sat back down. “I'm not going anywhere, Val… I won't… I'll stay. From now on, I'll stay. Dada will stay.”

The door of the room opened. It was Catwoman. She looked at him with downcasted eyes and said, “He says you're ready.”

Getting up, Bruce pulled back the cowl and followed Catwoman through the door with Valerie in his arms. He walked past his Robins, his children, as he did, and then he came to the room — the library — where Thomas Wayne waited for him, no longer wearing the Batman uniform, with him was the Ventriloquist, and then Vivian trapped in the glass dome. 

“Bruce!” Vivian got up and pressed her hands on the glass.

She's gone thin since he last saw her. They weren't taking care of her.

Catwoman took Valerie from Bruce and momentarily left the room to hand her to one of the Robins outside, then closed the door once she was inside. Glancing at Vivian's way, Catwoman inched closer to her without catching suspicion from the others.

“You heard her. Are you finally finished with this Batman obsession?” Thomas Wayne questioned Bruce.

He kept silent.

“I have your family. You city. You wife. Is that enough? Will you finally stop?”

Silence.

“IS IT DONE?!” Thomas exclaimed.

Bruce was silent for a time, thinking of his words. Then he turned to Vivian, his source of strength for these past few days. The thought of her was what got him back to his feet and back to shape to wear the cape and cowl once again. 

“It's never over,” he said, his gaze never leaving Vivian. “There is no progress. You will never stop, and neither will I.”

Thomas Wayne got up from his seat, eraged with Bruce's answer and punched his son across the face, over and over, until Bruce was on the floor. “Bane is broken and in a coma at Arkham. Carmine Falcone is dead. Take off the mask. Go to your wife and child. Settle into a life of warmth and peace. lIsten to a man. To your father, who chose what you chose. Who suffered the consequences of being this Bat. This horror. For once in your damn life, listen. Do what I should have done.” Thomas pointed at Vivian's direction. “Choose her! Be with her! Give up the cowl and choose her! Don't wait for her to walk out that door!”

Bruce turned to Vivian and saw the determined look on her face, then to Cat whose foot has brushed over the circle line. Breaking it.

“Stay down, don!” Thomas bellowed at him.

“Viv,” Batman spoke. 

“Yes, my love?” Vivian got up, her eyes glowing gold. 

“Break the chains.”

Placing her hand on the glass, Vivian whispered the spell, “Hsa ot hsa, tsud ot tsud.” The glass broke to dust, and Vivian fell to the ground, finally feeling the earth.

“NO!” Thomas was about to attack Catwoman but Vivian was fast and with her magic conjured whips of gold that brought the man down to the ground. “You… how did you…”

“Catwoman,” Vivian called for her.

Catwoman bent down to Thomas’ level and explained, “leaving me with the Ventriloquist and Viv wasn't the best idea you had. The most powerful weapon controlled by the only person he can't control. Because no one controls Wesker. No one but… Scarface,” she revealed the doll's eye in her palm. 

“How…” 

“A little bird dropped it for me” Vivian spoke.

The trinket! Thomas realized.

From the background, they heard Scarface speak as if coming from the eye: “Wesker, you two bit’ nothin’! I told youse, she wasn't goin’ to give me back if you…”

“Where do you think the Doll's been this whole time after Batman took him?” Vivian said. 

“You!” Thomas sneered at Wesker.

“C-can I h-have h-him n-now?” Wesker asked.

“WESKER!” Thomas broke from Vivian's hold and charged at Wesker, but Batman was fast and punched him to the ground, and held him down. 

“Stay down!” Bruce told the man.

“You win, I'm done,” Thomas chuckled, breathlessly. “My good boy… though I pushed. I pushed so hard, you would not fall. I should have known… you are a Wayne… and Waynes we rise!” he pointed at gun at Bruce's face. When he saw Vivian about to cast a spell to save Bruce, Thomas pressed the gun at her husband's temple and held him by the neck. “You’re a fool. You're both fools! I GAVE YOU WHAT I NEVER HAD! A CHANCE WITH HER!” HE scolded Bruce. “I SHOWED YOU THE USELESSNESS OF THE MASK! I'VE LIVED IN PAIN SO YOU… YOU COULD HAVE HAPPINESS! I SHOWED YOU! YOU ARE NOT BATMAN!”

“After the alley, the pearls,” Bruce began. “I was a child that… I thought that was the end. I was at the end. I went to kill myself with a knife. Instead, I took a vow. I killed myself with a vow. I was on my knees. I swear to the spirits of my parents to avenge their deaths by spending the rest of my life warring on all criminals. I lived by that vow. I was that vow. I was Batman!” 

He paused as he looked at Vivian who was being helped by Selina to keep standing. She was still weak after being trapped in that dome for months now. “I am no longer a child. Life is ont a trap you make when you're ten and you're hurting. Life is a choice you make everyday. Every damn day. I chose her. I chose to be with her, to be alive with her. I chose happiness. I chose family. And I chose Batman. And not once did I regret it. And neither did she!” Bruce threw his head back and hit his father's face, freeing him from the man's grasp.

Bruce went straight to Vivian and held her in his arms, and away from the gun. 

“I killed a universe,” Thomas recovered from the blow. “I killed so many, I burned the city… for you! And you're still… you… Bruce. My boy. When will you finally listen to your father?”

“I want you to know. I listened. I heard all of it. I know you. What you did and I want you to know… I need you to understand you're not my father!” Bruce threw the last punch, and this time Thomas fell to the ground unconscious. 

“It's over,” said Selina. “So, what are you going to do with him?”

“I'll take him back to his world,” Vivian said. “And I'll make sure he never comes back here.”

“How?”

“Give him good dreams, Viv,” Bruce told him.

Kneeling beside him where he watched Thomas Wayne, Vivian held her husband's hand and said, “he was a horrible man, driven to madness by grief… as much as I want to cause him pain… I can't.” 

“You have a good heart, Vivian… even to those who hurt you.”

“I'll give him what he wants. What he's bled and killed for. I'll let him sleep dreaming of his family. Of the life he wanted for him and for you.”

Wrapping his arm around her, Bruce placed a kiss on Vivian’s forehead.

~ Many Months Later ~

The rebuilding of Wayne Manor took less than a week to finish, but for Gotham it was more than that. It took about a month for the GCPD to capture most of Falcone's men who caused a wreckage across the city, and they still have not captured all. With Carmine Falcone dead, the family was left with no leader, meaning a new era was coming to the crime family and to Gotham, and whoever is chosen by them to lead will determine the future of the city and the threats that Batman will face.

For the Ventriloquist, Wesker remains silent and will not speak of the secrets he learned about the Waynes and Batman, especially when Scarface will be kept under lock and key in the Batcave. For Falcone, he kept to his word that only he would know about the secrets of the Waynes, and he died with that secret too. 

After some time in Arkham, where he was held while Vivian recovered to get the strength she needed to open a portal to his dimension, Thomas Wayne was restrained and gagged but for the time Bruce would visit him as Batman to see how he was. Then, when the time came, Vivian appeared in Thomas’ cell and, with Batman's help, carried him to through the portal to the other dimension, and laid the man on the bed of his son's bedroom. There, she placed him in a deep slumber where he would dream of the life he fought for. A life he wanted to have for him and for Bruce.

That was the last time they will ever see him. And the last time Thomas Wayne ever smiled and slept peacefully. 

Lying on the hammock in the garden, Vivian held Valerie in her arms and lets her play with her hair. 

“Got more room there?” Bruce asked as he approached them.

“I'm sure this thing can hold us,” Vivian tried to sit up and give him more room. Bruce easily maneuvered to join his wife and daughter in the hammock with one foot on the ground to swing them to and fro. “How is everything inside?”

Bruce hummed and said: “Jason is helping Alfred with lunch, Damian and the others are preparing the table. He and Tim are figuring out a way to get the table outside without asking for your help. Dick and Cass went to buy some pizza.”

“If they need help, I can help them bring the table out,” Vivian laughed.

“They were insistent. They don't want to disturb you in your recovery.”

Valerie crawled to her father and laid on his chest, and held him tight.

“You know, I was scared that… after what happened she would develop this fear towards the Batman,” Vivian said as she brushed her daughter's hair. “I don't want her to fear the Batman.”

“Thomas said that the Vivian in his world… he and her were familiar with one another, but after that confrontation in the library, I know that that familiarity is more than that… he loved her.”

“Bruce…”

“The Vivian from his world left him because he won't give up the cowl, and as soon as she did she was killed. Died in a car accident… he said to me that I was pressing my luck with you, that if I don't stop this now, then you'll leave me too.”

Vivian sighed and had him look at her. “I told Thomas Wayne that the reason why the Vivian from his world left wasn't because he won't give up the cape, but because of what he does with it… I came to Gotham in search of a new start, something that is far from death. The difference between you and Thomas Wayne is your code. You bring hope to people, Bruce. You care. And that's why you don't have to be scared about the thought of me leaving you because I'm not.

“I'm with you until the end. I live for the code and the mission you have… I stayed because of you. Because of the man that you are and for this kind heart. And I have accepted you as both Batman and Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce leaned down and kissed her lips. “I love you, Viv. I love you so much.”

Vivian smiled and caressed his cheek. “I love you too, Bruce. So much.”

She kissed him again and held his arm tight.

“Augh! Come on, not here and not in front of Val! Geez!” Dick took Valerie from the hammock where she was watching her parents with curious eyes.

“Dick!” Valerie cheered.

“We're sorry,” Vivian laughed and broke away from the kiss, but Bruce kept close to her and kissed her cheek and her temple, and just held her tight. “Is everyone here?”

“Just about,” Selina appeared, coming out of the kitchen with her cold drink. “I also brought something for us,” she waved the wine. “Oh, and a kiddie drink for Bat.”

Bruce hummed in annoyance at the teasing. 

“Where is the table?” Jason called out. “Hey, you said you'll get it out!” 

“We're trying!” said Damian.

Sighing, Vivian snapped her fingers and the table magically appeared outside with the chairs, plates, and utensils. All that was left was the food.

“We had it,” Damian grumbled as he left the kitchen.

“Thanks, Viv,” said Tim.

Bruce was the first to get out of the hammock and then pulled Vivian with him. 

“I don't think he'll ever understand,” said Bruce. 

Vivian hummed in question. 

“That I can be Batman and be happy. That I can wear the cape and still have you all… I am happy, Viv.”

“You know, he asked me the same question too.”

“And?”

“He asked if my life is perfect, and if I was happy. I said that my life is far from perfect, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I am happy, Bruce. The happiest that I can be. You make me happy.”

Smiling, Bruce leaned down and kissed her again, earning groans of displeasure for their children and a smirk from Selina.

“Let's go be with our family, Batman.”

“I'm right beside you, Professor.”

[notdotspot]

Dp x Dc Go to Sleep

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt. 3

Bruce loves his children but they sure are stubborn. They are each so much like him in their own ways which never ceases to amaze him since he has only a small hand in their early developmental years. When Bruce gets to the Batcave, Tim is dressed as Red Robin walking to the Batcomputer. Bruce observes his slumped shoulders and dragging feet as he turns the chair and lets weight down entirely. He is mentally kicking himself for not being the one to realize Tim was so exhausted. 

“Tim,” he calls, walking over. Tim looks up into his eyes. Scanning for a split before drawing his attention back to the computer screen. He does not touch the mouse or keyboard. All he does is fidget with his fingers as he watches the screensaver blankly. 

“Tim”

Tim hums a response. 

“Tim, you need to sleep.” 

His fidgeting pauses momentarily as if he is shocked Bruce would ever say that to him.

“No,” he says simply. 

“Tim, you have to sleep. You can not function like this.”

“I can not sleep.”

“Why? What is wrong?” At that, Tim lets his head fall to his arms on the desk. 

“I will see it.”

“See what? I thought you liked dreaming.”

“I will see it.” Tim’s head shoots up. “I will see the eyes. They stare at me. I feel them all of the time like they are following me. I see the eyes in the corner of my vision and when I turn to look they are gone. I feel them burning into my head. I saw a guy. I saw a guy and he had blue eyes. The eyes are green. The eyes are green and his are blue. The eyes are green but his are blue. The same eyes. Blue not green. The eyes are green. I see them in my own eyelids. I would know them anywhere. I saw them. I know I did.”

He spoke so quickly Bruce could barely keep up. 

“Tim. Tim. Tim!” Bruce put his hand on Tim’s shoulder. Tim jumped, his eyes snapping to the hand. His tired eyes had a slight craze to them and his breathing had picked up in the rant. Bruce lowered to Tim’s eye level. 

“Let’s go to bed.”

“No. No. I can not see the eyes again. I have to find them. I can not sleep.” Bruce realized that Tim was too tired to think straight. He needed to get Tim to see some type of logic.

“Are you seeing them now?”

“Yes,” he replies quietly. 

“Well, maybe if you sleep they will go away. I believe it is the only solution you have not tried.”

“But I have to find him.”

“But you can not find him in the dark. You will need to look in the morning. Barbara and I will help.”

“You are right. Of course, I cannot find him at night. I need the sun.” Bruce honestly cannot believe that worked. Exhaustion really does mess with one’s problem-solving skills. Tim pushes himself up slowly, slumping into Bruce’s arms. Bruce will take any chance to play his fatherly role, so he lifts Tim and brings him into the mansion. Alfred silently opens his bedroom door. He sees Damian waiting in Tim’s room with Titus. Bruce lays Tim, already asleep, onto the bed and tucks him in gently. 

Damian whispers to Titus, “Keep him in bed as long as you can.” Alfred pulls the curtains closed to guard the room from a soon-rising sun. Tired as he is, Bruce has never been more proud of Damian, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder to lead him from the room. 

As they walk down the hallway, Damian asks, “Now, when was the last time you slept, father?” Before Bruce can plead his case, Damian and Alfred are ushering him into his own room.

--------

also on ao3

next chapter is the longest one yet

[reasonssknj]

story time about my last shift!

context: this is my bts 8th member dr and my s/o is kim namjoon.

I went to sleep the night before crying wishing to shift so bad cause the current political situation we have around the world overall is not good and i have my own demons to face that make me want to shift even more.

i dreamed about my dr and the next day i took a nap in the afternoon and decided to affirm a little, i was very drowsy and went to sleep right after closing my eye, from there i was in the void right away, and i didn't panick like the last few times i was there, it felt peaceful and i kept affirming "i am in my bts 8th member dr", until i felt my body entering a whole, it felt like i was being sucked through a slide, and i saw the white flashing lights. At this point i felt a little scared but i knew the outcome was worthy so i followed through it.

The environment change was instant and i knew i was somewhere else, i opened my eyes and look around my room that looked exactly as i imagined (bacause i didn't script any specific room but i had an idea how i wanted it to look), and then i felt my s/o presence right behind me, i toss around the bed to look at him, it was 5 am so he was still asleep, i reach to touch his face, he squirm in bed and his eyes slowly flutter open, when i'm about to greet him, i blink and wake up back in my cr room.

shifting is easy and effortless, and it's more than real guys, it's the best feeling ever, literally all the tears are worthy. keep fighting and believing in the peaceful and fulfilling life you deserve, happy shifting ♡

[cordiallyb]

Restless | Wanda Maximoff

┌───────────────────┐

Summary: Restless nights are grueling and irritating, especially when you're a light sleeper.

Contains: N/A.

└───────────────────┘

The fan hummed as the blades rotated round and round through the night. The humming, aside from the passing cars in the street far below the level of my apartment, were all that sounded. Cars sounded occasionally, their horns blaring in short bursts as those doing their three A.M. commutes or drives around the city, continued on with their night.

I lied on my back, my hands folded over my stomach as my eyes were shut, trying to slow my breathing in hopes that a slower rate would somehow make me fall asleep. I had read somewhere online once that lying on your back, slowing your breathing and then turning onto your right side and continuing with a slow breathing rate could help you fall asleep quicker.

I had been tossing for the last few hours, not able to fall asleep as whenever I did, I would wake up from a quick ten minute nap. The entire cycle repeated to what was now, three twenty in the morning.

I moved onto my right side, keeping my eyes shut as I was determined to sleep. Only, after being in this position for a couple of minutes did I become discouraged. I released a sharp breath through my nostrils, turning back onto my back as I hit my head onto my pillow a couple of times.

A hum of slight disturbance sounded from beside me, I turned to my left to see a sleeping Wanda lying on her right side. Her left hand lying in between us, palm down on the mattress as her red-orange hair was in slight disarray. Strands of her hair covering her forehead as other pieces were hanging off of her cheek.

I turned onto my left side, smiling softly to myself at the beautiful woman next to me. Her eyebrows creased as though she were focused on her dream, or even irritated with me for moving. I wasn't completely sure if she was awake but once her creased eyebrows started to release slowly, I knew she was asleep.

She was a heavy sleeper most nights. Unlike me, I was easily woken up by anything, be it a mumble from Wanda when she would sleep talk every once in a while, a shout from a pedestrian in the street, or even the sound of the air conditioner turning on, I was sensitive to sound. And though it was of course convenient, considering the line of work Wanda had, as just being in a relationship with her put me at risk... It was annoying on the daily when I just wanted a decent night of sleep like a normal human being.

Releasing a breath through my nose I slowly sat up in the bed, doing my best to not make too much noise with the comforter as I left from under the covers. In standing up from the bed, my head felt a bit dizzy momentarily from the movement I suppose, and my vision went black for a split second. I leaned to my right, hitting my nightstand with my thigh, causing the knick knacks on top of it to clatter a bit as they moved on the tabletop.

Wincing, I turned around to see if I'd woken Wanda, surely with that noise she had to have at least been stirred even in the slightest. But no, I released a breath I'd held in as now she was only turning onto her left, her back facing me.

Nodding to myself, I tiptoed the cold hardwood floors as I crept out of the room, and went over to the living room. The living room was the room you entered just as you left ours. It was also the first area space of the apartment you'd enter, once passing through the front door.

Our apartment wasn't too small but it wasn't grand either. Surprisingly, Wanda didn't want a larger apartment as she liked the compactness of the one we rented. I remember her saying that we didn't need a lot of space, and if we had more of it, "it would just encourage us to buy things we didn't need".

The place housed one bedroom, one bathroom, and a storage closet that was to the right when you exited our room. The entire floor plan was pretty much open concept, the only walls being from the side of the apartment which held our room, bathroom, and the storage room.

Our kitchen was small, but like the rest of the house, it was lively, as Wanda wanted to plant greenery in the apartment to add color, and that "feeling". She said, "I feel like it's...Happy. The plants, they show life, and life is supposed to be happy. We need happy," she shrugged to me as we stood in the garden center of some warehouse shop.

I remember it all so vividly. Smiling at her, I kissed the side of her head as I agreed. "Yeah, happy is good." Wanda smiled back at me, turning her attention to the plant in her hands as she asked about how it would look in the kitchen, stating we would definitely need another one so this houseplant wouldn't be lonely. Only then, we would need about twenty more as the last would need a plant-friend too (hence our greenery in the apartment).

While smiling fondly at the reminiscent memory, I went over to the couch, deciding on sleeping there for the night. I knew I would most likely continue moving around and figured, even if I don't sleep tonight, Wanda should be able to.

Lying down on my back, I planted the bottom of my foot on the cushion, my right leg lying across the couch as I rested my left forearm over my forehead. Releasing a breath as I shut my eyes once more, my mind finally coming blank as I slowly drifted into sleep.

This sleep didn't last long though as I felt something beside me. I opened my eyes to see a figure standing right beside the couch, immediately my heart raced as I sat upright, preparing to yell before I realized who it was. "My God, Wanda," I grabbed at my chest, "Nearly scared me to death."

My reaction didn't affect Wanda though, as she remained standing where she was, her blanket bundling her as her eyebrows were creased in a tired state of confusion. Shaking her head she asked me in a low and slightly groggy voice, "What are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't sleep," I answered, "I didn't wake you when I left did I? What time is it?" I asked, moving around to look for a clock or anything to tell the time only to find nothing as I was not in my room and did not have my phone.

Wanda said 'no', that I hadn't woken her, "It's four in the morning," she said, "I turned and didn't feel you there, just the blanket. That's when I," she covered her mouth with the blanket, releasing a long yawn, "When I woke up," she finished.

"Oh," I rubbed my face, releasing a yawn as I went on my back again, taking the same position as before, only not covering my forehead as Wanda was still talking to me.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because, just because I can't sleep doesn't mean," another yawn escaped my mouth, my eyes watered as the yawn left my mouth. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't either. Just go back to bed, I'm fine out here," I said.

Wanda stood there a moment not saying anything, and instead stood in silence, the crease of her brow indicating she was considering my words. I opened my mouth to tell her I would be okay in the living room, but she took off her blanket and began draping it over me.

"Wands," I started only to be cut off as Wanda instructed me to scoot, moving into my side as she lied on her left side and I now lied on my right.

"Wanda, there's no way you're comfortable," I said through a small laugh, her right arm draped over my waist as she used my body to scoot more into the sofa.

"Yes, I am," she grunted, pulling my right arm below her head as she used it as a pillow. In the process, she lifted and laid her head softly on my arm a few times, trying to find a spot that was more pleasant than the last. "See?" she asked as she settled. "So cozy," she exaggerated, nodding her head lightly.

She shut her eyes, releasing a content sigh as she seemed to be falling back into a sleep as peacefully as she appeared to be in the room before. Not opening her eyes, she lightly tapped my waist with her fingertips, "You're not going to be able to fall asleep if you don't shut your eyes, Y/L/N," she said in her sleepy voice, a slight raspiness coating it.

Releasing a small laugh, I moved my fingers through her hair as I swept the strands away from her forehead. Lightly brushing the pad of my thumb over her eyebrow, I felt the smile on my lips and didn't mind it being there. Typically when I held one while looking at her, she would tease me, or say or do something goofy to make me laugh which led to her laughing.

Part of me thinks that she does that to make herself smile or have 'reason' to, as I had noticed that she smiles after seeing me smile, almost like that was her automatic reaction.

Whenever I saw her, heard her voice or laugh, held her close, felt her hold me or anything that involved her being there...the smile just came with the immense feeling of gratitude and happiness that she filled me with. They were things that I was met with constantly and only because of her, she was my reason.

Moving the backs of my fingers over her cheek, I leaned my head closer to her before placing a quick kiss on her forehead.

A smile came to Wanda's lips as she kept her eyes closed, moving further into me as she rested her head under my chin. I held her close with my right arm, rubbing the top of her back soothingly, the refrigerator humming into the silent apartment as we lay on the couch.

The air conditioner turned on but it didn't bother me, instead I focused on what was happening in the now, feeling grateful for my home, my wonderful girlfriend, and though I wasn't able to fall asleep, I was thankful for Wanda for being patient with me when I couldn't sleep. Knowing it had to have been annoying to her to deal with at times as well, then I went on to thinking about her. Thinking about how much I loved this person in my arms.

Shutting my eyes, I smiled to myself, hugging Wanda with my arm.

"I love you too," Wanda murmured, her words causing my smile to grow even more than before. Leaning my head, I moved to place another kiss on top of hers, before shutting my eyes once more, finally drifting off to sleep.