#(I really tried to avoid pronouns at all other than “you”)

[auroracalisto]

with all the power in oz

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 2.2k words summary: the reader, rather anxious and studious, finds their self head-over-heels with none other than fiyero, supposed boyfriend to galinda upland. to placate this, they somewhat agree to meet him at the ozdust ballroom. a/n: YOU pronouns are used to address the reader, but there is no usage of y/n. just watched the movie today. tried to find a fic, couldn't. here I am writing one instead. reader worries a lot. so me. you're welcome. also, I'm going into this blind. I have unfortunately never seen the actual musical (downsides to living in the middle of nowhere) so I'm only going off based on wikis and the movie. it should be gn as I read through it like... five different times, but please let me know if I missed something!

Breathtaking. That's what he was. But could you truly refer to a man like him as breathtaking?

The very features that graced his face were absolutely mesmerizing, and you felt like a fool watching him at times. How could you not? He seemed so full of life, so full of... well, not a care in the world, really. It was as if he brushed everything off of his shoulders without hesitation.

You could only wished you were the same way.

No cares, no worries. How lovely that would have been.

No, you hold onto the things that happen to you as if you have no other way to live. You hold grudges, you think over things that happened years ago that no one could possibly remember.

For someone who wished to be a sorcerer, you had a hard time simply letting things go. Your emotions often got the better of you, even when you knew better. Even when you wished it could be the opposite. But perhaps that was the way of the world.

Not a man in Oz could tell you otherwise.

Books in hands, you crossed the path to your dormitory, brows cinched together in mild concentration.

You had a project in your history class, and an extensive paper to complete on the study of mathematics—of all the things you could have had, a paper in mathematics. You'd rather perform magic in front of the entire student body, but you couldn't.

As you walked, you heard your name come from behind you. Eyes flicker back, a soft frown on your lips. You see him—Fiyero. The one fool you meant to avoid with all the gumption within you.

You'd melt just being near him.

"Fiyero," you softly greet.

He gave you a charming smile, coming up to walk with you. "Heading back already?" he asked.

"I am."

"Working on the project, hm? We could work on it together if you'd like. I'm sure our minds could do wonders," he said, a playful wink coming from him.

"I'm fine," you simply said.

He blinked slowly, but his smile never wavered. "Come now," he said, your name leaving his lips rather sweetly. "Surely you're not going to spend the rest of your evening alone. Why don't you come to Ozdust tonight?"

You looked back at him, frowning. "Ozdust. Me. I don't think so, Fiyero."

"And why not? I'm sure you'd be as dashing as ever."

You stopped in your steps, eyes searching his for but a moment. "Dashing. Are you in earnest, Fiyero?"

"Yes," he said, smiling.

"And what of Galinda? You'll be with her. Why invite me?"

"She doesn't need to know. It's not her business," he said. "Besides, she will be busy with Elphaba. I'd much rather spend time with you."

"And I think you're just pulling my leg," you said defensively. You crossed your arms over your chest, careful to keep your books close.

"Pulling your leg? I haven't even touched you," he said, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Come now, don't play coy. You should come."

"And if I do?"

"Then I'll be quite happy."

You rolled your eyes and went to walk away.

A hand wrapped around your bicep, and you paused, glancing over your shoulder at him.

His eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hand, albeit hesitantly. Perhaps he didn't think he would actually reach out to you. He cleared his throat.

"I really would like you to be there. You'll have the time of your life."

"The time of my life," you repeated. "I don't think you realize how much I dread parties."

"Have you ever been to one?"

"No."

"Then how do you know you dread them?"

"I just know," you said. "I feel it in my bones. I know going will just get on my nerves."

He scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. "I think you're foolish for that," he said. "Come on. What are you losing? A couple hours to work on a project that you know you could finish in a morning session? You'll be fine. Come to the Ozdust tonight. I'll show you a good time."

You clenched your jaw. "I don't want—"

"—I would like you to be there. That is all. I won't ask again." He gave you another small smile before he looked away. "I'll see you around. Perhaps tonight?"

You stared him down. He would like to see you there? Was he being honest? And what of Galinda? Would he be going behind her back? Wasn't he madly in love with her, or something? Or was it the other way around?

He said your name once more, and you looked up at him, letting out a soft sigh.

"Right. Perhaps tonight," you softly said.

The smile on his lips was rather... hopeful than anything else. There wasn't anything smarmy by it. He seemed as genuine as the glint in his eye—the one he used when he spoke with anyone he trusted. At least, you hoped so.

The night came quickly as you finished up your outfit—one you would hope you didn't look completely foolish in. The color you chose seemed to fit well with almost anything, but you still worried. You always worried about something.

Time was of the essence. You weren't even supposed to leave Shiz University's campus, but here you were, sneaking like some scoundrel.

Well, perhaps you were, listening to the requests of a man who already had a girlfriend—a fantastically beautiful one at that.

But you paid no mind. You did what you could, and soon, you found yourself walking down the steps of the Ozdust Ballroom.

Never had you been in a place like this. It was almost... breathtaking, had it not been for the overpowering smells of perfume and some kind of drink wafting from the bar. Your eyes flitted from patron to patron until you finally spotted him—Fiyero.

He looked just as handsome as ever.

Good Oz, what in the world were you doing? This was foolish.

You took a step back, staring at Fiyero for a moment as he spoke with another man, drink in hand. You needed to leave. This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous! Never in a thousand years would you ever imagine yourself to do such a thing—

"You made it!"

Fiyero's voice rang out above the music.

You look to him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Because of course he saw you as soon as you had decided to leave.

Fiyero smiled and made his way to you, taking your hands in his, drink left with the confused man behind him. Surely he didn't just up and leave in the middle of his conversation.

You part your lips and go to speak, but to your dismay, Fiyero is instant.

"I was afraid you had changed your mind," he said. "You look ravishing, darling."

Your eyes widened. Ravishing? You'd been called many things in your life, but never ravishing.

"Galinda couldn't make it?" you asked.

"Wha—no, she couldn't. But what of it? I didn't ask her to the Ozdust, I asked you. I'm glad to see your face."

Warmth blossomed in your cheeks as you watched him. "Fiyero, please... I shouldn't be here."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, grinning all the while. "Come. Dance with me."

"But I don't—"

"—do not say you don't dance. I can teach you."

"Teach me?"

"It's as easy as breathing," he said.

"For you, maybe, but not for—"

"—humor me," he said, smiling.

You pursed your lips. Of course he had to give you that charming smile and the sweet bat of his eyelashes.

"I do not dance," you repeated.

"I think I will be the judge of that."

He grabbed your hands once more and pulled you out into the ballroom floor, smiling all the while.

"You'll be a natural. I can just see it."

"I feel like if I were a natural, you wouldn't have to teach me," you said, gasping as he pulled you close to his chest. His face was dangerously close to yours, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

"You know," he began, eyes flickering back to your eyes. "We all start somewhere, do we not? You should know that better than anyone."

"What? What does that—"

He interrupted you by spinning you by your arm, back into his embrace. The music was rather ambient, not quite one for dancing so enthusiastically, but Fiyero embraced it. Hand to your hand, face close to your face.

"See? A natural."

"You merely spun me around, Fiyero. Do not be foolish."

"You could have fell flat on your face," he said, a boyish grin evident on his lips.

"Stop looking at me like that," you defiantly said. "You are far too close to me for my liking."

"Oh, feisty, are we?" he asked, moving his body along to the music and forcing you to go along, too. You nearly stepped on his toes several times. "I do not think there is anything wrong with the way I'm looking at you. You're rather breathtaking, if I may."

Breathtaking. The same way you had described him only hours before. He wasn't a mind reader, was he?

No.

Of course not. That was foolish. He was merely a man. Nothing of great importance—no power within him other than the power he held in every single eyelash as they batted down at you, making you melt over and over again.

"What of Galinda?" you repeated.

"What of her?"

"You shouldn't be calling someone who isn't yours breathtaking. It's quite..."

"There is nothing wrong with admiring the beauty in front of me," he said, your name playfully leaving his tongue. "Look at me. Galinda and I are only friends."

You rolled your eyes. "Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened a bit. "Lie? I do not lie. We are friends and nothing more. Though I do believe she thinks differently..."

"She must," you said, huffing softly.

"But that does not make it true. I have eyes for someone else."

"Eyes for someone else?"

He tilted his head once more. He was rather endearing when he did that.

"Who did I ask to their very first party?" he asked, smiling. "It's quite a feat, isn't it? Afraid you wouldn't show, and then you do, questioning me and everything I stand for, hm?"

Warmth found its way to your cheeks once more. You looked away from him. With the crescendo of the music, Fiyero pulled you closer, fingers lacing with yours. His lips hover dangerously close to yours.

"You know, if you would just give it a chance, perhaps you and I could make some magic of our own."

You let out a curt laugh. "You—oh, good Oz, I hope you never use that line on anyone! Has that worked for you before?"

He gave a cheeky smile. "It seems like it's working on you."

"Absolutely not!"

"Not even a little!"

"No!"

His smile only seemed to grow. "Truly?"

You looked away, swallowing thickly. "I mean... no. Not even a little. Not at all."

"You're lying," he said.

"I am not."

"I do think I know what I'm talking about," he said, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. "Come now," he said. "Stop with the lies."

You looked up at him, a soft huff escaping you.

"Fine. I lied. It may or may not be working. But it's not just because of what you said."

"Oh? Are you saying you like me for more than my suave words?"

"Suave words? Who in Oz said they were suave?"

He just smiled, his eyes flickering to your lips once more. "Do you think instead of just a dance, I could try something more?"

"Try what?"

"I think you know."

You blinked slowly at him, your fingers gently gripping onto his tunic. Your lips part in mild surprise, but you realize that you shouldn't have been. He'd been eyeing you the entire evening.

"Very well," you softly said.

"Wonderful," he replied, and in a swift motion, he pressed his lips to yours. It was short as he pulled back almost as soon as he had kissed you, but it was enough to keep you wanting more.

"Fiyero, that wasn't—"

"—come with me," he softly said, lacing his fingers with yours once more. "Somewhere without so many prying eyes, yes?"

Your answer was almost instant: "Yes."

Fiyero led you back up the staircase, and he didn't look back once at the ballroom.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Somewhere where I can see you and only you," he said. "If that's alright."

"Oh," you softly said. "Yes. That's alright."

"Then follow me," he said. "Do you trust me?"

You smiled sincerely for one of the first times in the evening. Did you trust him? What kind of foolish question was that? If you had the chance, you'd do whatever he'd ask of you. You found your answer rather quickly, knowing within yourself that it was far truer than any other statement you had ever uttered.

"With all the power in Oz."

[stellaralignment]

How close can you get to the edge of a cliff without being afraid of falling?

If you don't know the height of the cliff, it really depends on your personality. Some might be bold, others cautious. This can be shaped by your experiences, those who have fallen and been injured might treat an apparent drop with more respect.

But circumstances are also important to remember. You might prefer to run off the cliff, regardless of the consequences, if you're being chased or attacked. The cliff face actively giving way and falling might push you back, or spur you towards it in an attempt to save a falling friend.

And all this is regardless of the height of the cliff! If you approach and note the way down, your decision might change. If it turns out to not be a cliff at all but a gently sloping hill, you could continue onwards. Or decide the path isnt where you wanted to go after all and simply turn around.

But for some, the cliff is insurmountable. A sheer or spiked face of immeasurable height. A dreadfully difficult or simply time consuming and exhausting ordeal to attempt to traverse. No matter how desperately they wish to arrive at their destination.

All this to say, there's innumerable reasons why one might transition. There's infinite obstacles or justifications for someone to not. At the end of the day, everyone had their own unique path and is simply struggling to arrive at the place/identity where they feel most comfortable.

Some may not have the opportunity to get there.

But each and every single one of us is valid and is entitled to whatever identity is claimed. Whenever the individual claims it. Instantly. Without penalty or judgment if the same decides to claim another simoultaneously or in replacement of the first chosen identity.

The right to self determination is one all should be allowed to enjoy

stop gatekeeping identities and labels

[secretlovezz]

Whiplash

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 2010

A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞

You weren't there... again.

Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.

And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.

Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.

He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.

He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.

"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"

Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."

Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.

At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.

Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.

"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"

The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.

"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.

He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"

《----------♡

When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.

He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.

Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.

To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.

You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.

He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.

When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.

Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.

Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."

Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.

Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.

"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."

The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"

You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."

You didn't want to go back to normal.

For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."

Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.

Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.

Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.

"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."

All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."

"Don't be mean Eddie."

He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.

In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.

When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.

"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.

"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."

His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."

"I won't Eds, I promise."

"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"

You laugh, "I have no idea."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Adeuce + Onee-san!Yuu Headcanons

I THINK THEY’D BOTH BE INTO ONEE-SANS… cuz Ace is the bratty one that wants attention and Deuce is into being praised for his accomplishments 💀 Even worse if both of them are crushing on the same onee-san and butt heads every day about it.

Please note: due to the nature of the scenario, these headcanons could read as gendered (since “onee-san” means "big sister") even though I avoid the use of gendered pronouns for the reader/self insert in my writing and just generally allude to the concept of the "onee-san" trope (someone who is reliable, kind, and mature). Read at your own discretion.

Curiouser and Curiouser…

Ace is totally the type of guy that mercilessly teases the person he has a crush on, and that's really no different when it comes to you. He sees it like a challenge, to see how fast he can break you and get you cutely begging him to stop--but to his surprise, you hold your own and push back, scolding him for his attitude and lip. He blinks as you finish your lecture and turn to walk off, not registering the heat of his gaze following you.

The teasing continues regardless, of course. He doesn't let up on it, always coming up with some clever new excuse whenever you respond. With (fake) watery eyes, Ace will claim you're BULLYING your innocent little kouhai, don't you feel any shame or remorse? Oh, and he gets jealous if others tease you—because only he’s allowed to do that, got it?

He doesn't flinch at all when you scold him (In fact, he thinks it's kind of cute how you get all stern and pouty) Ace will taunt you and egg you on ("What're you gonna do, tell my mom?"). May or may not also include him cheekily sticking his tongue out at you.

The number one thing he makes fun of you about is your kindness. He often tells you that you're TOO nice, and that someday it may come back to bite you in the ass, or someone might try to take advantage of that kindness. "Luckily for you, I'm a nice guy too, so I wouldn't mess with you like that."

Ace is handsy. He'll casually lean on your shoulder or even rest his head on top of yours (if you're short enough for that kind of thing). It's fine between "just friends", right?

If you ignore him (or he feels like you're giving more attention to Grim or Deuce than to him), he gets all clingy, whining about how you next hang out anymore or why did you leave his text on read? Ace tries to invite you out as nonchalantly as he can (he doesn't want to come off as desperate).

"How about that burger place in town? What? Nooo, it's not a date, dummy! It’s just a joke. Unless…?" He typically phrases private outings with him as unserious, if only to keep a route of plausible deniability open for himself to escape with if you indicate you're not really into it.

Pesters you to come watch his basketball games. Constantly. When you do finally show up, he waves excitedly, winks, and tries to dedicate a shot to you in an attempt to look cool. (Unfortunately, the ball bounces off the rim and makes him look incredibly pathetic. Floyd gets a good laugh out of this.)

Every time Riddle collars him or punishes him with extra chores, Ace asks you to comfort him. He'll dramatically lean against you and lament how life has been SO unfair to him lately, so he'd for real appreciate a shoulder to cry on or maybe a lap to rest on right about now~

He pretends to not understand class material as an excuse to ask for "one-on-one" tutoring. Since you're sooo smart and kind, you'll definitely help him, won't you? As you're explaining how to solve this equation or the next, Ace is too busy staring at your profile to really pay attention. You ask if he gets it now, and it takes him a few seconds to snap back to reality and insist to you that he does, but juuust to make sure he gets it maybe you could explain it all again!

Whenever you pack a homemade lunch, Ace is the first to ask for a bite. Well, not ask but more like he announces he wants some before he steals a bite right off of your eating utensil. He'll then make some cheeky comment about how it's an indirect kiss. In return, he shares his own snacks (which suspiciously look like unbirthday party cakes he swiped from the fridge, but shhhh, don't tell Riddle!).

Every time Ace dresses up or buys some new article of clothing, he makes a show of wearing it. Like this guy will wear the luxury sunglasses Vil gifted him for his birthday INDOORS or on the back of his head hoping it'll bait you into noticing and then complimenting him.

Ace claims that you're "soooo obsessed with [him'" since you're always "chasing [him] like a lovesick puppy" and "looking for excuses to talk with [him]". In reality, you follow him around and talk with him to nag him and keep him in line, but Ace frames it a certain way because he's delusional to mess with you. "Geez, if you want me that badly, then just say so~"

You try your best to keep him out of trouble, but there are instances in which you end up roped into his shenanigans and both of you are punished for it. Detention isn't exactly a very romantic spot to be in, but Ace makes use of every moment of it to hog you for himself. "Hey, don't make that long face. It's not so bad—least you've got me here to keep you company."

He sometimes brings up his ex to complain about how needy she was (the irony of Ace saying that is not lost on you) and implicitly brag about how he has sooo much experience with dating. He'll then bring the attention to you. "I don't get it, what was she looking for in a guy? She said I was way too immature for her. How about you, Prefect? Do you get it? Immature guys... do you like that kind of thing?" Ace thinks he's slick but he ain't--

Unlike Ace, Deuce does his best to try and not cause trouble for you to clean up after. He also joins you in telling Ace off, to which Ace will call him a "goody two shoes" and accuse him of "sucking up to Prefect". Deuce adamantly denies it, but his frenemy's words still fluster him.

Deuce is very polite to you and even greets you with a bow. He sees you as someone deserving of respect because of how responsible you are—you're modelling the very thing he aspires to be someday! Your encouraging presence fills him with a drive and determination to be better.

Having someone like you around makes Deuce try really, really hard to demonstrate how mature he can be. He pulls off these herculean feats (like forcing himself to eat bell peppers without gagging or solving a basic arithmetic problem correctly in under 5 minutes). It’s all worth it when he sees that proud smile blooming on your face and hears the cheery “Good job!!” from you.

Deuce usually keeps a respectable distance (to keep things professional between peers!). However, he completely freezes up if any scenarios arise where you touch him—be it an accidental brush of your shoulder and his while you're walking to class together or you plucking a fallen leaf or petal out of his air. His face turns about as red as his dorm leader's and he hurriedly runs way ahead of you to cool off.

The worst of it is when you adjust your clothes for him (it puts you in very close proximity) or when you pat him on the head and shower him with praise. Deuce doesn't know how to react to receiving such earnest compliments, he just melts like putty in your hands, happily basking in the moment.

In spite of all of his efforts, his grades don't see much of an improvement. Seeing his frustration, you offer to tutor him, which Deuce graciously accepts. It doesn't occur to him until he's actually in that tutoring session that this is a private time for the two of you, and suddenly he's struggling to focus because wow, you're so close and your hand is centimeters away from his. Instead of thinking about math, he's thinking about what it would feel like to reach out and hold you. Stupid, stupid! he scolds himself. D-Don't think about weird things like that!

Deuce doesn't have a lot of pocket money, but he offers to share his food with you anyway. (He knows you're carefully budgeting your monthly allowance from the headmaster, so you can't afford to spend much on treats.) He'll break off half of his chocolate bar or dessert bread, but drinks are harder to share. His face burns at the suggestion of sharing a straw—isn't that technically an indirect kiss?—but he tries to pretend like he's not nervous (even as his hand trembles terribly as he accepts the juice carton from you to take a sip of his own).

There are times when you find him a little bruised and beat up, whether it’s the result of a brawl or an intense workout. Deuce will insist that he’s fine, but that doesn’t stop you from personally tending to him. He’s dead quiet as he watches you disinfect and bandage his injuries, heat climbing to his cheeks. When you ask if it hurts anymore, he softly replies “… No.” Not when you’re here with me.

Deuce frequently tells his mom about you when they speak over the phone. He says that you’re an amazing person with a big heart, rambling on and on about how you care about everyone and always support them. His mom listens for a while before laughing and telling Deuce he’s definitely got a crush and that she’d love to meet this person that has stolen her son’s heart. Of course, he gets embarrassed and claims she’s wrong, he just really admires you, that’s all!! (But a mother knows best…)

Deuce is easily flustered whenever you call him “cute”. He tends to keep his mouth shut and let you gush as you please, but one day he manages to find his voice and protests. "P-Please don't tease me like that, Prefect..." Deuce mutters, his gaze cutting to the ground. “I… I want you to see me as a man.” Someone you can rely on.

Deuce tells you that if you’re ever in need of help—or if people are giving you trouble—then all you have to do is call him. He’ll come running to your side, lend a hand, fend off the bullies, whatever you need. He knows he can depend on you, so he should also be the type of person you can depend on.

It’s hard for him to get a grip on his delinquent side if he feels like you’re in danger. That mixture of concern, protectiveness, and upset drives him wild—he doesn’t even realize he has relapsed until he has rushed over to check on you and notices the alarm set in your eyes. I’ve gone and done it again, he panics. They’re disappointed in me.

… But you embrace Deuce warmly, thanking him, peppering him with reassurances, inspecting him for any signs of harm. He’s flooded with relief, allowing himself to sink into your arms and breathe in your comforting smell.

Deuce appreciates it when you make time to go to his Track and Field Club meets and cheer him on. He sprints like the wind to see you at the finish line. You’re smiling, with a water bottle, a wet towel, and a snack in hand to reward him for his hard work. Deuce’s clubmates snicker and tease him about it, but he doesn’t let that get to him—he’s too busy riding the adrenaline high that is you.

He’s not shameless unlike Ace, who pretty much automatically clocks his feelings. Deuce struggles a lot with coming to terms with how he feels about you, wondering if he’s “good enough” to be near you, to like you in the capacity that he does, to push these emotions onto you. He kicks himself, calling it spineless and cowardly to not gather his courage and just blurt it out already—but he’s scared of breaching your friendship. “Hey, Is this okay…?” Is it okay for me to like you like this?

[d1xonss]

Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?

Pretty When I Cry

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Angst/Fluff

✧ Word Count : 4k

AN ~ This is a very cute idea. I've been wanting to write something for season 1 Daryl because he's just such a cutie pie, but I didn't really have any good ideas. Though I think if he were to ever snap and "be mean" it would surely be in the beginning; his sassy era lol. But thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

In an instant it seemed like, all of humanity was completely flipped upside down. You were on your way to work when the chaos all erupted, dead people coming back to life and the military taking matters into their own hands. Bombing places left and right even if that meant killing the ones who weren’t infected. The entire thing shook you more than you were ever willing to admit, after all, you were more fragile, soft and clearly not built for whatever the world was suddenly turning into.

But to your surprise, you made it out alive. Traumatized, sure, but alive.

You seemed to count your blessings every single day since then, thankful for every little thing that had happened to you since. Luck seemed to shine down upon you as you weren’t alone for long, finding a small group camped out in the high mountains merely days after everything went down. They all welcomed you with open arms, clearly taking a liking to your kindness and wanting as many people to come together as they could get. After all, it’s all that was left of the world. People you could rely on.

You grew to love the tight knit group, forming friendships with people you never would’ve guessed you’d meet in a million years. You also tried to keep yourself busy, wanting to be as useful as possible and provide what you could for the others. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you simply wanted to. Things like cooking, collecting berries and mushrooms, doing laundry, anything you could find to help contribute. 

Something you seemed to be ashamed of however, was that you couldn’t really do any of the “heavy lifting.” You had never fired a gun in your life, that alone narrowed down the list. Not being able to stay on watch, not being able to hunt, and…not being able to take care of the dead things that sometimes wandered all the way up here. At first, the thought of you being weaker than the others never even crossed your mind. It was only brought to your attention when a certain man began to poke fun at you because of how small he saw you.

Merle Dixon was a grade A asshole to put it bluntly. Ever since he and his brother showed up to be a part of the group later on, he had made it his mission to annoy and harass you whenever he saw the opportunity. You couldn’t figure out why you were his main target, his main source of entertainment, but you could only guess it was because he always got under your skin in a way he was able to see. That, and he tended to make you cry. He even gave you a nickname because of it after a while, one that you absolutely hated. And he knew it too.

Although Merle was someone you couldn’t stand, his brother Daryl however was…different. He could still be snappy and hot headed just like the other one you supposed, but he had never acted that way towards you surprisingly. His main target was Shane, and honestly, who could blame him? There were many times where the man would take things too far and Daryl would put him in his place, unaware of the watchful wide eyes that watched the interaction. He never seemed to care, wanting to tell everyone how it was without a single ounce of regret. You sort of envied him for that small little thing.

You had never stood up to anyone in your life, always too scared of the outcome and you hated being yelled at more than anything in the world. So it was safe to say you avoided confrontation at all costs. Clearly, as you hadn’t found the strength to stand up to Merle since he got here. But though neither of the brothers particularly cared for you, you were still kind to them just like you were to everyone else. You didn’t miss how the others in the group would almost look down on them in a way you couldn’t understand, so you wanted to be the one who provided just that little bit of kindness. It really went a long way, or at least that’s what you believed.

Though you had to admit, it was a little difficult sometimes. There were moments where you just wanted to yell in frustration, curse at Merle for how he always treated you and how Daryl typically sat there and did nothing. But you always managed to cool off, reminding yourself that they most likely acted like this because of something from their past. Something they couldn’t control. Who were you to treat them differently because of that? It was hard to stay strong at times, but in the end, you always seemed to send them a small smile.

You currently busied yourself on just the outskirts of the camp past the trees, finding and picking a few berries to bring back seeing as the group was running a bit low. And every bit of food counted these days. Your gaze stayed down as you chose the ripest ones, placing them in the little woven basket you brought to gather as many as you could for the time being. Though upon your hunt for different kinds of plant based things you could eat, your eyes happened to catch a mere glimpse of something colorful a few feet away.

To your surprise, it was a small patch of wildflowers growing together, each a different beautiful color and only a reminder to you that the world wasn’t completely dead. There were still many beautiful aspects along the way, even though a bit of hope may be lost, it was little things like this that brought a smile to your face. So you decided to wrap it up, bring back the things you’d collected along with picking one of the small flowers, putting it behind your ear for now to take back and put in your tent with the rest of your things. You had the idea of pressing it into one of the pages of a journal you kept.

You then found yourself slowly trailing back towards the site, almost dreadfully as you could predict what was coming next. You could practically hear it in the back of your mind like it was burned into your memory. Merle’s phantom voice echoed in your mind, knowing he would most likely call out to you the moment he noticed your presence reenter the space. But again, you reminded yourself to just try and be kind. It was the one thing you were best at.

Slowly but surely you made it past the treeline, and only about eight seconds passed before you heard a loud wolf whistle from your left along with the same booming laugh. Like he amused himself or something.

“There she is!” he called from the space in his and Daryl’s separate camp away from the others, “It’s weeping willow.” he smiled widely in hopes to get a reaction out of you.

You sighed as you sent him a small smile, “Still not my name Merle.” you reminded as you just tried to walk past him.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy. He easily stepped in front of you to block your path, the smirk still plastered on his face. “Close enough.” he waved off, “Besides, I wanna see what you so kindly brought back for me.” he said before quickly snatching your basket out of your hands.

Your eyes slightly widened as you tried to grab it back, but he pulled it away faster. “Merle.” you huffed as you attempted to reach for it again, but he only moved it away quicker. Every move you made, he would make as well, purposefully keeping it from you as he started to walk backwards for you to follow.

Like dangling a damn carrot in front of your face.

Your frustration grew as you continued to follow and reach for it as he laughed, watching your attempts and fails. You could feel your cheeks beginning to heat up in embarrassment now, sensing Daryl’s eyes watching the interaction as he made a few bolts by the small fire they had set up. He sat there still, doing nothing as per usual as he watched the interaction unfold right in front of him.

“Merle, please. It’s for the group.” you tried as you reached for it again.

But he pulled it out of your reach as you stood face to face, “Well, I’m a part of that group ain’t I? I think I deserve this just as much as the next bastard. Unless of course you have a different opinion bout that…” he trailed off as his smirk grew.

You sighed, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. It’s for everyone.” you clarified kindly.

The man only laughed at you, and you quickly began to feel the familiar lump forming in your throat, trying desperately to swallow it down and not let your emotions escape. It was obvious you were sensitive, but also having to fight the same fight over and over again, it got old quicker than you would admit. You could hardly stand these interactions anymore without at least tearing up a little at his teasing and taunting.

Finally after having enough, you reached out quickly and managed to snatch the basket back from him in one quick motion, placing it on your arm as your brows furrowed a little in frustration. Merle’s eyes widened a bit at the fast unexpected action, before he started smirking all over again once he caught the expression on your face.

“Oooh look at that. I almost got ya to snap.” he poked as he swayed a little clumsily on his feet, most likely a little drunk or high would be your best guess.

Sighing to yourself again to calm down, you shook your head as you knew of his only goal, “I’m not snapping.” you stated calmly.

Though he clearly didn’t believe you, wanting to push you even more. His eyes traveled away from your eyes as he grinned wickedly, pointing to your ear. “What’s this lil thing?” he asked. Your eyes widened a little, but before you could even react, he quickly snatched it away all while pulling your hair a little in the process. 

Your hand reached again, “Merle, come on, please.” you spoke desperately as you moved to keep up with him, before your frame accidentally stepped a little too far to the left.

In a fit of embarrassment and clumsiness, your foot accidentally knocked over a bucket that was sitting a little too close to the fire. The only problem was, Daryl’s freshly made bolts were sitting in there, now being engulfed in the flames. Your eyes widened in horror as you quickly scrambled back, watching Daryl instantly stand to his feet in an attempt to save what wasn’t ruined. But it was too late.

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed loudly as he bent down to pick up the bucket.

One of your hands came up to your mouth as you couldn’t believe what you had just done, freezing in place as you now didn’t know what to do. You knew you were in deep shit already, but when Merle suddenly paused just as you did, you knew you were royally fucked as the two of you just watched Daryl stare down at the fire motionlessly.

Eventually you found your voice, stepping forward a little to reach out to him, “Oh my God, Daryl I’m so sorry-”

But your words clearly didn’t mean a thing. He slapped your hand harshly away from him as his head snapped up to look at you, a fire of his own growing in his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with ya?!” he screamed.

You instantly flinched back at his sharp tone, the lump once again forming in your throat as you desperately tried to keep yourself together, “It was an accident-”

“Do ya even know how long it took me ta make those?” he asked angrily, not even bothering to wait for an answer. “Nah…course ya don’t. Cause you don’t do anything around here! Always just sittin in yer own little fairytale, smilin without a goddamn care in the world, when in reality you just fuckin ruin everything!”

His words cut through you like a knife. But not one that was sharp. One that was dull, just sawing back and forth relentlessly and hurting you even more than you could’ve ever imagined. Your eyes quickly filled with tears, not even knowing what to say as he was clearly about to blow up even more with how angry he grew. 

He scoffed once he saw how speechless you became, “Just get the hell outta here.” he spat harshly as he got up closer to your face, aggressively pointing off into the trees.

Tears began to pour down your cheeks at the last of his words, not even wasting another second as you dropped the basket from your arms before taking off in the other direction in a flash. Your chest heaved as you moved quickly through the trees, not being able to get alone fast enough so you could finally let everything out. You almost couldn’t believe the things that just happened, how everything got so messed up after you swore you were making progress with the two of them. But you weren’t. And perhaps you never would, that being something you would just have to accept.

Though finally after feeling like you walked quickly for miles, you came to the clearing of the large quarry, slumping down near the water before you began to sob all by yourself. You let everything out, every built up emotion poured out of you like a rush of water. You could’ve sworn you cried so much that you could fill a quarry of your own, knowing that those emotions were really the only thing you were good at. Crying could be an olympic sport, and you would win first everytime given the chance. 

But that thought only got you thinking more, making you stew over Daryl’s words. Maybe he was right. Anyone could say that it was the heat of the moment, his anger, insults just spilling out of his mouth that were simply not true. But in a way, you knew how true they were. You had to admit that you did feel useless as you hugged your knees to your chest, covering your face as you sobbed even more. You didn’t have useful skills like some of the others, not being able to prove yourself as you truly were weak when it came to a world like this. All you ever wanted to do was be kind, provide for the people you cared about most. But your outlook got ruined in an instant, quickly replaced with a new one that you would surely think about forever.

It was funny, you thought. You once heard Merle’s faint voice playing in your mind repeatedly, but now…you only heard Daryl’s. His insults, his harshness, it was something you never would’ve guessed or expected from him. But now you knew that you had just ruined everything, when all you wanted was to help.

You didn’t know how much time you spent alone, crying off and on to yourself the more you allowed your mind to run, but you could only assume it was a fairly long time. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, the little bit of light that was left shone over the water in front of you, making it sparkle as your tears continued to blur the scenery. You sniffled as you wiped your cheeks over and over again, wanting to pull yourself together enough to be able to show your face again back at camp. But the embarrassment was still weighing heavily, almost a crushing pressure.

But then all your attention was pulled to a shuffling noise coming from behind you, causing you to whip your head around in a panic to see where it came from. Though the sight was more surprising than you could’ve ever prepared yourself for. Daryl slowly emerged from the trees with a hesitant look on his face, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your head back in the opposite direction. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to understand why he had come out here. He had already done enough, he made his point crystal clear. You were just silently hoping he didn’t come out here to yell at you again.

Daryl on the other hand felt an immense amount of guilt. His chest tightened a little as he caught barely a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes and your tear stained cheeks, knowing he was the cause of it. He couldn’t describe how it made him feel, but all he knew was he was wishing he could take it all back if it meant not having to see you cry. His brother already caused you to break down enough, he didn’t want to be the cause of that too. And yet, he was.

The man slowly walked up to where you sat near the blue water, the rocks crunching beneath his boots louder and louder as he approached. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you just prayed he would go away, not wanting to interact with him after everything. But Daryl was stubborn, and he didn’t want you out here all night just because you were nervous to come back.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” he said a bit awkwardly, stopping just a few feet away from you. You heard him loud and clear, but you said nothing, not really in the mood to eat. Facing the group after they surely heard the scene that went down, it all sounded like a nightmare.

Daryl sighed heavily as you didn’t respond, you didn’t even look in his direction. Acting as if he wasn’t here at all. “Hey.” he called.

“...Why do you hate me?” you whispered, still not facing him as you spoke.

He almost questioned what you had said, but then it seemed to hit him all at once just how badly he had fucked up with all this. The one girl that showed him a kindness he had never seen, now thought he wanted nothing to do with her from the projected words he spat at her.

He let out a soft breath as he closed his eyes momentarily, stepping up a little closer, “I- I don’t…I don’t hate you.” he said quietly.

You didn’t react, so he managed to push himself a little further than what he was comfortable with. He moved to slowly sit down beside you, keeping some distance, yet he wanted you to know he was there. That he meant it. “I don’t hate you.” he said again.

“You act like it.” you were quick to say as you turned your head to look him in the eye, “I…I don’t even know what I did…” you said, your voice quiet and broken.

The man stared at you for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head, “Ya didn’t do nothin…it’s…it’s hard to explain. But I guess I never really understood…why yer so nice. Thought maybe ya just wanted somethin from me…I dunno.”

You shook your head a little in disbelief, “I’m nice because I care…that’s it.” you assured as you didn’t want him to think otherwise. But you supposed hearing his reasoning out loud made a little more sense, seeing as how you truly were the only one nice enough to show your kindness to the brothers. He was skeptical because no one had done that for them before, the thought nearly broke your heart.

A long moment of silence passed between the two of you, before you were the one to break it, “Listen…I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to ruin what you worked so hard on, it was an accident.”

Though Daryl quickly shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. If anythin, I should be apologizin for what I said. I…I didn’t mean none of it…”

You stared at him with a soft expression, “But you were right…everything you said-”

“Everything I said was bullshit.” he said bluntly, looking at you with a seriousness in his eyes, “I say a lotta stupid shit I don’t mean when m’ angry, and this ain’t no different, ya hear me?”

“But it’s true.” you argued gently before looking back out into the water, “I don’t know how to help out…how to survive in a world like this. I always try to do what I can, but it’s never enough.”

Daryl paused as he saw the sadness behind your eyes, a sudden feeling overtaking him as he wanted to say or do something that would get you to smile again. “Hey, that ain’t true. Ya go out and scavenge, ya help cook the food that’s brought back…ya even helped stitch Glenn up when the dumbass hurt himself.”

His words caused a small laugh to escape your lips as you looked back over to him, “Well I knew he would somehow mess it up even more if he did it himself…I didn’t have a choice with that one.”

“Nah…ya did.” he said seriously, “Ya always have a choice, and I see ya puttin others before yerself all the time. That’s somethin ya should give yerself credit for.”

Your eyes softened the longer you looked at him, a small smile forming on your face just seeing how much he cared. Even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud just yet. “Thank you.” you said quietly.

Daryl felt his face grow a little hot as he ducked his head, clearing his throat a little awkwardly, “Yeah, no problem…” he muttered before it looked like he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and uh…I brought ya this.” he said before revealing the hand that sat behind his back.

You looked down to see it was the same small flower that Merle took from you, sitting in the palm of his hand as he held it out to you. Your eyes widened a little as your small fingers delicately took it from his grasp. “You got it back?” 

“Uh, no that one was all smushed by the end of…everythin. So I went and got ya a new one…hope that’s okay.” he explained a bit quietly.

Your smile grew as your eyes lit up at the simple kind gesture, one you would have never expected from him. “It’s perfectly okay…thank you.” you said sincerely, raising it up to place it behind your ear.

He nodded a bit awkwardly as he watched you for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. “Alright, well come on.” he muttered as he stood back up to his feet, “Best be gettin back.” he spoke, hesitantly extending a hand out to help you up.

His actions surprised you a bit, but that didn’t stop you from taking his hand, letting him help you stand before the two of you slowly headed back through the woods. You half expected complete silence as you walked side by side with him, but he managed to keep a conversation with you as if he suddenly enjoyed your company. Though maybe he always did, he was just cautious as he didn’t always trust people as easily as you did. But you were growing more hopeful as he slowly came around, finding you had to be patient to see how much of a gentle person he really was.

From that day on, you and Daryl had slowly gotten more comfortable with each other. You wouldn’t really call it a friendship per se, but it was something the two of you very clearly cherished. But that wasn’t the only thing that seemed to change.

Merle’s attitude toward you seemed to have completely flipped from what you had grown accustomed to. He rarely ever spoke to you again after that day, and if he did it was always something short and simple, not an insult in sight. Though you were a little surprised, a part of you had a feeling who changed his mind about you.

~ Thanks for reading!

[justmediocrewriting]

“You’re not that dumb, are you?” {v.s}

Summary: Sanji seriously can’t figure what it is he had done to offend you or make you dislike him, but he’s sure he had to of done something; you avoid him like the plague, and if Sanji doesn’t figure out why soon, he’s going to spontaneously combust right there in the galley.

Or: the one in which Sanji is completely oblivious to the crush you have on him, until he isn’t.

Genre: fluff

Requested: ❌

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is afab, she/her pronouns, use of (y/n)

A/n: so this cute little idea was tickling in the back of my head because i have this headcanon that even though Sanji is the worlds biggest flirt and a major lover of women, he genuinely can not tell when a woman actually has a crush on him, and thus this was born lol. I hope you all enjoy! And don’t forget to leave a like if you did, and don’t be shy to send in a req if you like the way I write! ❤️

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

It had been occurring for weeks, and if he were being honest, Sanji truly felt as if he were going absolutely crazy.

Sanji was not a perfect human being; he knew this, and he was all too aware of his own flaws — but he didn’t believe he was a bad person. On the contrary, he felt he was more likable than he was dislikable, and the crew for the most part seemed to share his same opinion.

Except for you.

Sanji didn’t know what it was about him that bothered you, but there had to be something there, considering the fact that you went out of your way to ensure you would never end up in a position in which you were to be alone with him, and whenever he was around, you avoided his eyes, and his attempts at conversation were generally ignored — it was quite irksome, and the smug little smirks Zoro sent his way any time it happened definitely didn’t help.

At first, Sanji thought perhaps it wasn’t him, but you. Upon first meeting he noticed the rather shy disposition you possessed, so in the beginning, Sanji just chalked your avoidance of him up to nervousness and the need to settle in. But as time went on, Sanji observed you — Sanji was always observing, mentally clocking the conditions and stability of his crewmates — and his gut twisted when he noticed you growing warmer to every other crewmate except him; you even seemed to be comfortable with Zoro, now.

Sanji tried his best to not let this fact affect him, and he instead tried to compartmentalize and break down the reasons as to why before automatically jumping to any unpleasant conclusions; perhaps you had warmed up to the others faster simply due to exposure. When Sanji had landed on that particular conclusion, he decided the best course of action to take would be to ease into a closer bond with you.

His attempt at that had quickly gone awry; the ship had docked at a small island, one fairly well known for its bountiful fruit and vegetable harvests, and Sanji was set on making a list of the crew’s current food stores, but when he’d entered the galley and noticed you — just you, without Usopp or Nami flanking you as he’d grown accustomed to seeing — his initial task had been swept away to be replaced by another.

You hadn’t yet noticed his presence, as your nose was pointed down and buried in a rather thick looking book, one hand wrapped delicately around a mug resting on the hanging table, and Sanji couldn’t refrain from taking the chance to really look at you.

Your hair was pulled up into a messy bun atop your head, a few stray locks falling from the hold of your hair tie and framing the delicate features of your face, and Sanji’s heart stuttered in his chest at the way your soft lips mouthed the words of the book as you read. Sanji knew you were attractive, had thought so since the first time he’d laid eyes on you, but with your near constant avoidance of him, it was difficult for him to be able to take any time to map your features; and Sanji was feeling eternally grateful that he was given the opportunity, and part of him didn’t want to announce his presence, because he had the sinking feeling that once you noticed him, you’d be flying out of the galley at mach ten.

But that was also another problem that Sanji was dead set on rectifying, so he pushed away any unpleasant feelings and decided to announce his presence in a way that wasn’t overly shocking — but he had underestimated your level of skittishness, and the moment in which he decided to clear his throat was the exact same moment in which you’d decided to take a sip from your mug, with which held steaming liquid within.

The instant the sound left his throat you jumped, your head snapped up and you lost your grip on the mug — leading it to falling into your lap, the contents spilling over your front and your thighs. Sanji’s heart froze inside his chest as a loud hiss escaped your lips and you slammed your knee into the bottom of the table in a frenzied scramble. Your beautiful face contorted into an expression of pain, and before Sanji could even think twice about it his body was moving, propelling him to your side in an instant.

“I’m so sorry, love, are you okay?” Sanji pushed out, hand flashing forward to grab your arm and pull it gently out of the way so he could examine the damage. Sanji winced as he noticed your legs were bare, the skin at the top an ugly shade of irritated red, and worry lanced through his gut. Tugging on your arm gently, Sanji coaxed you out of your seat.

“Come on, let’s get to the sink. We need to cool the skin before it scalds.” Sanji would have been surprised when you quietly let him lead you from the table to the counter if it weren’t for the sheer panic he was feeling. Twisting the cold tap hurriedly Sanji ripped the towel from the cabinet handle just below the sink and shoved it beneath the stream, thoroughly wetting it then ringing it out slightly before moving to place it against the burns —

Sanji nearly winced at the resounding slap that split through the galley when you smacked his hand away. Without much to offer in explanation you ripped the wet towel away from his hand and it suddenly dawned on him — he was about to place his hand in a spot that was highly inappropriate, even if the intentions were caring in nature. Sanji flushed and despite the situation, his eyes roved over your plush thighs in a way that was starkly opposite than checking damage. Feeling utterly disappointed in himself, Sanji parted his lips to apologize, but you beat him to it.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” You said softy, avoiding his eyes. “T-thanks, Sanji, but I’ve got it from here.”

Sanji barely had the time to register your words (he was still frozen from the absolute beauty that was your voice speaking directly to him, saying his name) before you were scurrying away, water dripping a small path from the sink to the door out of the galley.

{{================================}}

Days had passed since the incident in the galley, and you hadn’t uttered a word to Sanji since — you didn’t even really look in his direction, and when he’d come to return your book to you and ask how you were doing, you only gave him one seldom nod and then snatched your book away before slamming the door in his face.

Only this time, Sanji couldn’t really blame you.

Of course, there was no way you could have known of the brief indecency he’d given you, but the fact that he’d startled you enough to cause you to burn yourself was enough of a reason to be angry at him, in his opinion — but his understanding of the situation didn’t make it any less irritating.

Only now, he was irritated for a different reason.

Sanji felt as though hearing his name on your lips was like taking a hit of a strong drug; ever since he had experienced it, he just wanted more. Sanji wanted to hear you speak to him, not just around him; he wanted you to converse with him, to tell him all the things that you’d already told everyone else about yourself, and, selfishly, he wanted you to tell him more — to tell him things that you’d never revealed to anyone, not even Usopp or Nami.

Sanji wanted to look into your eyes and commit them to memory, so that he could see the vibrancy of them even when he closed his own. He wanted to watch the way your lips formed words, and he wanted to hear that delicate laugh bubble from your throat because of him — and that was the crutch of it all.

Sanji wanted all of this for himself.

He wanted all of it because of himself.

And Sanji knew it was selfish, knew it was immature, because he also knew why he wanted all of this; it was because he had been deprived of it for so long.

And wasn’t that such a childish way to look at it?

Sanji couldn’t help but compare himself to a toddler being jealous of another’s toy — any time he watched you swapping words and laughs with someone else, even Nami, Sanji would feel envy bubbling beneath his skin, scratching his brain to try and figure out why you’d felt him undeserving of your time and attention. It sounded truly vain, if he was being honest.

But Sanji just couldn’t help it.

Something about you was drawing him in, making him itch for more, for anything, even the smallest morsel of attention or acknowledgement.

Sanji just needed to talk to you, or something. Get to the bottom of whatever it was — maybe if you could both put it to bed, these annoying desires would fade away.

“That fish personally insult you, or something?”

Sanji’s head snapped up at the sound of Nami’s voice, lips opening but no words slipping past them.

Nami rolled her eyes and gestured to the still intact fish resting on the cutting board. “You’ve just been glaring at it.”

Sanji’s eyes widened and his cheeks felt warm. He hadn’t even realized he had been so distracted that he hadn’t begun his lunch preparations. Recovering, Sanji sent Nami a small smile and quickly grasped the cutting knife to start in on the beheading and skinning. From his periphery he noticed Nami giving him a strange stare, and he was more than prepared for it when she asked him if he was okay.

“I’m fine, love, don’t worry about me.”

Nami scoffed as if she didn’t believe him but to his relief she didn’t pester; instead she thunked her ink pen once on the table before repositioning it to draw on her chart once more — Sanji wasn’t sure how he could explain what was distracting him without it coming off as too accusatory or abrasive.

But hell if he wouldn’t try.

“Say, you’re pretty close with (Y/N).” Sanji started, not looking up from his handiwork. He heard more than saw Nami lean back against the couch, and he could only picture that she had her arms crossed over her ribs.

“I am, I suppose. Why?”

Sanji bit his lip in thought, wondering if he should just drop the whole conversation before he could take it to the point of no return, but he needed to know; he needed to understand what it was he’d done or said to make you hate him. And if you’d told anyone why, he imagined it would be Nami.

“It’s just… does she hate me, or somethin’?”

Now Sanji couldn’t refrain from looking at Nami, bashfulness be damned. He needed to see Nami’s eyes, so that he could know if whatever her response was would be genuine. What he didn’t expect, though, was for Nami’s eyes to widen comically, nor did he expect her to double over with laughter. It took a few seconds for her to catch her breath, and when she did, she gave him the most vibrant, teasing smile he’d ever seen grace her face. Sanji would be stunned by the beauty of it if he wasn’t so confused by her reaction.

“You’re not that dumb, are you?”

Sanji thought himself akin to a fish when all he could do was flap his lips at her wordlessly, brows furrowing to the point he worried they might stick. Sanji didn’t know what to say to that; was Nami being rhetorical or serious?

“Look, Sanji, she doesn’t hate you.” Nami finally recessed, but the mirthful amusement was still evident in her tone. Sanji wet his bottom lip, relief warring with confusion in the pit of his mind.

“But she avoids me. She won’t even look at me.”

“She looks at you a lot. You just don’t see it.”

Sanji was once again rendered speechless — a part of him wondered if Nami was simply pulling his leg, or if she knew something he didn’t; something she clearly thought should be obvious, if the look on her face was anything to go by.

Nami heaved a great sigh and gathered up her chart and pens, along with her other various navigation gear, and tucked it into her rucksack before rising from the couch. Resting her hands against the counter she leaned forward, the tease in her eyes making Sanji do the same, not even noticing when the tip of his tie grazed the slimy flesh of the fish.

“For a ladies man, you sure don’t know much about them. You should remember that there’s more than one reason that a person may avoid another.” Nami whispered, and with barely a glance back she breezed swiftly from the galley, leaving Sanji more confused and fuddled than ever before.

{{================================}}

For the rest of the evening, Sanji continued to toss and turn Nami’s words around in his head; but no matter how much he picked and pulled at them, dissected them and put them back together, he just couldn’t figure it out.

Surely Nami didn’t mean for her words to be as cryptic as they were. Nami wasn’t one to be cryptic; she was blunt and upfront, and unashamed or frightened to speak her mind — it was one of the many traits that Sanji admired in her.

Throughout your time with the crew, Sanji noticed that you were similar to Nami in that respect — you weren’t afraid to put in your own input on certain situations or decisions, and most of the time, your input was quite enlightening and helpful. You also weren’t scared to fight for your own beliefs, even if it meant engaging in a verbal altercation with one of your friends. Outspoken and vibrant with pretty much everyone on the crew, you were, and it was something Sanji found very attractive and annoying at the same time — because you weren’t nearly that strong around him, had never gotten in an altercation with him, choosing instead to avoid him.

Nami said you didn’t hate him — but why else would you avoid him, avoid eye contact, refuse to be alone with him? Why else would your face flush any time you met his eyes accidentally? Why else would you stare at him in secret instead of approaching him?

Sanji promptly dropped the whisk into the bowl of pancake batter, because oh —

Oh.

There’s more than one reason that a person may avoid another.

Oh. Shit.

The blushing, the avoiding, the staring in secret… it wasn’t because you hated him — it was because you liked him.

A smile broke on Sanji’s lips and he pulled the whisk out delicately with the tips of his fingers, a warm, fluttery feeling erupting in his chest.

Sanji would have to thank Nami later.

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part five

part one part two part three four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; luke tries to apologise for the party, but it takes you a while to forgive him (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3753

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, swearing

➻ did this take a month? yes. am I sorry? yes. will it happen again? absolutely

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage @caramelandvenus @chasebeth @maraudersmyloves losergirlcrowley amortencjja wisecrownpaper iammightsadyall odeasforyou rlqfpdl

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were humiliated. You’d spent all night crying, mortification setting in thick over your body as you lay on your bed. However, despite how embarrassed you were, you were mostly angry. Angry at Luke for acting so affectionate, for making you believe that he really liked you then pulling away at the last second. Angry at yourself. Angry that after all these years, all it took was one stupid boy to bring down all your walls; angry that you let yourself be led into this situation.

And so that morning, instead of letting yourself mope around about it anymore, you picked yourself up with a new determination. You were angry, and everyone was going to know about it. Your braids were pulled extra tight, not in the mood to deal with flyaways or gentleness, and the smudged eyeliner around your eyes served as a reminder of the tears you’d wasted.

There was a much shorter line at the Lava Wall than usual. Although skipping out on activities could earn you some shitty chores or revoked dessert privileges, your bad mood had seeped into the whole area, practically lowering the temperature around you. You only had a few newer campers dare to enter your territory, and it took a Herculean effort to not snap at them for even coming near you.

Luke watched you from afar, hidden away in one of his typically safe smoking spots. He was trying to gauge your mood, see if anything was fixable. His prospects currently looked grim. He watched in anticipation as a young girl made a dumb mistake. Luke thought it wouldn’t have been her fault — Chiron had made him tour her around camp only a few weeks ago and she’d been pretty beat up before she got to camp. He watched you yank her off the Lava Wall moments before disaster, and held his breath as you both seemed to falter. The girl looked like she was going to burst into tears, and your face was unreadable, which was usually not a good thing. Just as he thought you were going to take out all your feelings on the scared kid, you crouched down to her level, thumb wiping away her spilled tears. You spoke softly to her, bringing her down from an impending breakdown with a gentleness that didn’t often emerge at camp.

The interaction gave Luke some hope, maybe your heart hadn’t totally closed off. That thought was quashed, however, when minutes later you ripped Travis Stoll a new one for being an ‘egotistical dickhead’ as he fooled around on the wall. Luke was genuinely shocked at the volume which came from your body, he could have mistaken it for a conch horn. Even Travis seemed a little taken aback at your outburst. Usually your bad moods were pretty easy to avoid — stay out of your way and you stayed away from others. Clearly today, though, you had anger to get out of your system, and you weren’t hesitant in expressing it.

You were still upset by lunchtime, and your day only got worse.

“Dance for me, cowboy,” Katy Gardener yelled, evil grin shining across the Dining Pavilion. You kept your head down and ignored it, hurrying to your table. A body popped up in front of you, blocking your path.

“What do we owe you for the table dance, babe?” Ethan crooned, and if you were in a slightly more private setting you would have decked him. You grumbled out a “Fuck you,” and shoved past him towards Drew, knowing that at least she wouldn’t reproach you in public. Ethan clearly wasn’t done with you yet, though, and began an all too innocent conversation with Mr D.

“Why don’t you ask how her weekend was, Mr D?” He said, throwing a casual glance over to you.

“Unless she kicked the crap out of your dumb ass, Elton, I don’t wanna hear it.” You could have kissed Mr D, and then immediately recoiled at the thought. Ethan’s embarrassed expression was enough to please you though, and you sunk into your meal silently, but at least not active with anger.

After lunch Luke tried to apologise to you, or explain himself at least. He knew you were upset, but he was still feeling good about himself. He had noble intentions, and was doing objectively the right thing by not taking advantage of you when you were drunk. None of these sentiments were expressed, though, when you stormed right past him, making sure to land an extra aggressive stomp on his foot as you went. Chris couldn’t hold back his loud laugh, clapping Luke on the back in semi-sympathy as he headed to his own next activity. Luke stood dumbly in his spot for a few minutes, unsure of how exactly to proceed. Clearly you were more upset than he thought.

Your own next activity was Ancient Greek with Mr D. You didn’t know why he taught it at all given you personally thought he was hardly fluent, but it was one activity you actually didn’t mind, especially as you got older. Whilst the younger kids had lessons focused on getting used to the alphabet and language, the elder campers who were more fluent had more traditional ‘english’ classes — learning about texts and languages, only in Ancient Greek so the dyslexia didn’t slow you down as much.

You shot Mr D a tightlipped smile as you walked into the pavilion, hoping to get by the lesson unscathed, though you didn’t have much hope. Both Ethan and Luke were in this class, and you really didn’t want to see either (though Luke usually skipped, so he wasn’t such a pressing issue).

Just your luck, Ethan was already in his unassigned assigned seat behind you, filling in the campers who didn’t attend the party about your escapades. You just rolled your eyes, trying to seem somewhat graceful about your own actions, but the leering eyes of your peers was making it supremely difficult. For once you did regret not making many friends at camp — if you had, maybe your humiliation wouldn’t be such a hot topic, but the very presence of your class reminded you why you had no interest in being friends with them.

The room thankfully quietened down when Mr D walked in, the whole camp somewhat wary of his temper. He started the lesson: Shakespeare. You perked up a bit from your slouched position in the chair. Whilst school wasn’t exactly your strong point with the ADHD and dyslexia, Shakespeare was something you actually kind of understood. When you were younger your Dad had taken you and Silena to a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you’d loved it ever since. Shakespeare translated into Greek was maybe your dream.

Mr D started talking about sonnets, and you got the distinct impression that he didn’t totally know what he was talking about — or just didn’t care enough to go into any detail. You figured that was more correct since he was the god of theatre, but you could never be totally sure with Dionysus. Regardless, he’d moved on from explaining the basic form of a sonnet and had set you a project: write your own version of Shakespeare’s sonnet 141. You sat straighter in your seat, unable to hide the small smile that had crept onto your face. You raised your hand, slightly offended by Mr D’s eye roll.

“Yes, Miss I-have-an-opinion-about-everything?” He sighed, but you persevered nonetheless.

“Do you want it in iambic pentameter?” You asked.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” He hesitated, and you revelled in the fact that you could still surprise him after all these years.

“No, I think it’s a really good assignment.”

“You’re just messing with me, right Barton?”

“Beauregard,” You corrected for the thousandth time, “But no. I’m really excited to write it.” You picked uncomfortably at your cargos as the class watched your exchange.

“Go see Chiron.”

“What?”

“Get out!” He yelled, not quite angry but you weren’t going to be the one to test him. There were rumours of previous campers who’d been turned into dolphins and you did not want to continue that legacy. You wandered out of Greek class, still slightly confused at what had just happened, and headed back to your cabin, not bothering to go see Chiron. With the cabin to yourself you tried to get a start on Mr D’s project, but inspiration was lacking and you resorted to taking a nap instead.

The rift between you and Luke became public knowledge at that night’s campfire. Without even realising it you’d started sitting with him most nights (or rather he sat with you, bothering you until you submitted to a conversation). Then suddenly you were avoiding him like the plague, spitting out a harsh “Get fucked, Castellan,” when he called your name softly, almost begging you to talk to him. You were never one to back down from your decisions though, and left him in the dust, taking a seat next to Clarisse. You could tell even Chris could see something was seriously wrong as he pressed a kiss to Clarisse’s hand and disappeared somewhere, presumably to sit with Luke.

You didn’t even really know why you were at the campfire in the first place. You’d been only a handful of times before you knew Luke, and now you didn’t want to know him yet here you were. Clarisse tried to keep you entertained with her quiet comments — which did admittedly make you snort a laugh once or twice, but you were otherwise miserable. You sure as hell weren’t going to participate or chat to anyone, and you were really regretting not just pursuing your usual routine of getting to the top of the Aphrodite cabin for stargazing. Plus, you could feel Luke’s eyes following your every move, and you were getting fed up with the kicked puppy act.

Your final straw was the singing — why was everyone in Camp Half-Blood so obsessed with singing? The second some douchebag from Apollo brought out a guitar you were done, launching yourself out of your seat and stomping back towards your cabin for some peace and quiet. Just as you were crossing the threshold out of the amphitheatre a hand grabbed your arm and you whirled around to face the culprit, ripping your arm out of his embrace.

“Touch me again, Castellan, and I swear to the Gods I will make sure you have no hands to use.”

“Look, I just wanted—”

“I don’t care, Castellan. We don’t always get what we want, do we?” You knew you were being mean, but you frankly didn’t care. When Luke was shocked into silence, mouth slightly open as he searched for anything to say, you took the opportunity to leave him in the dust, trying to keep your confident walk even as your legs were shaking slightly.

“Bro, what did you do to her?” Beckendorf approached Luke up near the exit of the amphitheatre.

“I didn’t do anything,” Luke snapped, before taking a beat to calm himself down, “She would’ve been too drunk to remember.”

“But the plan was working!”

“What do you care? I thought you wanted out.” A slight blush crept on Beckendorf’s face, accompanying the dumb grin.

“Yeah, well I did, but, um, that was until she kissed me.” Despite his own bad luck, Luke couldn’t help but be happy for Beckendorf, slightly hating the fact that the lame younger boy had grown on him significantly. He let Charles ramble about the kiss for a bit despite his decreasing interest in the conversation, very glad when Percy joined them.

“So I talked to Clarisse,” He said, and Luke knew by his tone the news wasn’t going to be good. Beckendorf was still hopeful (or just naive) though, and pestered him for more details. “’Hates him with the fire of a thousand suns’ is the direct quote.” All three of them grimaced, yet Beckendorf persisted.

“Hey, we don’t know. She might just need a day to cool off.” Luke thought back to the bruise you’d left on his foot earlier in the day.

“Maybe two.”

The Aphrodite kids were all in archery except you, who’d claimed to be sick to get out of it. So, Silena was on her own and vulnerable to Ethan approaching.

“Hey there, Cupid.” He popped up behind her, not noticing the grimace creeping onto Silena’s face.

“Hi, Ethan.” She refused to look at him, focusing instead on aiming her arrow.

“I want to talk about the end of summer dance.” Silena rolled her eyes as the rest of her siblings pretended to mind their own business despite their innate need to know what was going on.

“Look, you know the deal. I can’t go if my sister doesn’t.” The end of summer dance was exactly what it sounded like; a big party for all the kids at camp to celebrate the three months they’d spent together and send off the kids who weren’t staying all year round. Though the actual dance was supervised, it was a well known secret that all of the older campers stayed out through the night drinking and dancing, and most of the folk around camp turned a blind eye for the night. Usually, your dad would pick you up just before the party started, which would inevitably result in a fight between you and Silena. Now though, Silena wasn’t quite so against leaving early, wanting out of the boy drama she’d found herself in.

“Your sister is going,” Ethan said, puffing out his chest as if it made him look more manly. Silena’s surprise was genuine.

“Since when?”

“Let’s just say I’m taking care of it,” Was all Ethan said before walking away, confident swagger in his step as he passed in front of your siblings, and Silena wondered how many of them were holding back the urge to let go of their arrow as he crossed them.

Still, Ethan had to make good on his word, so he found himself approaching Luke again. Rummaging around in his pockets, Ethan presented him with 200 dollars in cash. Luke raised an eyebrow, not bothering with words.

“This should take care of everything for the dance. I’m sure you don’t own anything presentable so this is for a new outfit, flowers for her, whatever. As long as she comes to the dance.” Luke stared at him, and was disgusted at what he was feeling. He might’ve been growing a conscience, something that would be greatly inconvenient for his life as the scary, unsociable older guy at camp.

“I’m sick of your game,” He said finally, pushing the cash back towards Ethan, who frowned. Luke got the distinct feeling he’d never been told no before — except by you, of course. Ethan exaggerated a huff and reached back into his pocket, pulling out one more hundred dollar bill. Luke faltered. He was sick of hurting you, but three hundred dollars was a lot of money. And without any way of making income as a year-rounder it was only more attractive. So Luke swallowed his pride and his morals and took the money. Though, getting you to ever consider going out with him again was basically a hopeless case.

So Luke began his new quest of getting you to speak to him again. He’d shown up to the Lava Wall full of audacity and enthusiasm, and waited patiently in line as you helped the other kids, pretending you couldn’t see him. When it was clear he wasn’t going to leave — or have his turn on the climbing wall — until you acknowledged him, you rolled your eyes aggressively.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped, gesturing for the Athena kid standing behind Luke to have her turn.

“I want to improve my time,” He smiled, and you could tell he thought he was being cute. You only partly secretly agreed.

“You’re so…” You trailed off, unable to find a word appropriate for your audience of children.

“Charming?” He asked, and there was that smile again. “Wholesome?”

“Unwelcome,” You settled on, turning back to your duties.

“You’re not as mean as you think you are, you know that?” You froze for a second, then told the kid waiting to start to hold on until you could get rid of him.

“And you’re not as badass as you think you are.”

“Ohh, someone still has their panties in a twist!”

“Don’t for one minute think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties,” You scoffed, subconsciously adjusting your denim shorts.

“Then what did I have an effect on?” Despite the two of you clearly arguing, there was a surprisingly vulnerable look in his eyes. You ignored it.

“Other than my upchuck reflex? Nothing.” You turned on your heel, making it clear the conversation was over.

You were absent from that night’s campfire, which Luke was grateful for since Percy and Beckendorf had much to say about the plan, none good.

“So she’s still majorly pissed,” Percy started and Luke snorted.

“Yeah, got that, genius.”

“Well the question is, how do you stop a girl from being mad?” Beckendorf asked, and Luke could only cringe at how they sounded. With the way the three of them were talking, any passerby would surely think they were three prepubescent virgins. From next to them, Annabeth sighed harshly.

“Look, Luke. You embarrassed her, her ego’s taken a hit. Devastating for any girl, especially damaging for a daughter of Aphrodite. You need to get on her level; even the score and embarrass yourself for her.” The boys sat back, stunned. One by one they processed the instructions, nodding slowly. Thank the Gods for Annabeth Chase was the only thing Luke could think.

With much planning and a little bit of outside involvement (Luke swapped some of his chores with Clarisse’s to get her to agree), the plan was set in motion.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. We can make fun of the little kids singing Disney songs?” Clarisse lay on your bed as you cleaned your bunk area and you looked at her skeptically.

“Why tonight? We never go to the sing alongs.”

“Dunno,” She shrugged, “Something to do. Plus, summer’s almost over and soon we won’t get to spend any time together.” You grinned, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.

“Aw,” You cooed, “I knew you liked me deep down.” Clarisse swatted your hand away but smiled nonetheless, and the two of you stayed huddled up on your bunk gossiping until dinner.

Swayed by Clarisse’s begging, the two of you ended up at the sing along, much too close to the front for your liking. You struggled through the karaoke songs, only staying to commentate to Clarisse. You’d heard one too many awful renditions of classic childhood pop songs when the amphitheatre went quiet, no one knowing who was meant to be leading the next song.

“You’re just too good to be true,” The voice rang out into the night, unaccompanied voice making you gasp immediately in recognition. This was your favourite song, but hardly anyone knew that. It was the song you used to dance to with your dad when you were a kid, before you even knew you were a demigod.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” People were murmuring now, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from and who it belonged to — no one who’d sung before for sure.

“You feel like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much,” You gasped again as you saw the figure emerge from the darkness. Luke Castellan was singing at the camp sing along. You couldn’t hold in your giggle as he continued to sing a cappella, coming into the light of the stage. He seemed to be searching for something though, eyes roving over the audience.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” His eyes locked with yours; he found what he was looking for. Before you could dwell on the incredibly cheesy act, music swelled to life, the Apollo musicians seemingly having learnt the piece beforehand. You wondered how much planning went into this. Your joy only increased as Luke began to dance; dorky, outdated moves that made you laugh out loud — a sound so unfamiliar that a few campers had to look back to check it was really you. You laughed and clapped along with everyone else, thoroughly enjoying Luke embarrassing himself in front of the whole camp.

The performance had to end at some point though, and you found yourself rising out of your seat to give a standing ovation, whooping and cheering along with everyone else. By chance you caught a glance of Clarisse’s face to see her already watching you, a satisfied look evident on her face. You were confused for a second before a memory struck you — a late night on the roof trading drunk secrets and stories where you told her about your childhood connection to Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You. You were floored, and also kind of flattered. You knew it would have taken a lot for Luke to go to Clarisse for help — she was scary when she was pissed, and she was definitely pissed at Luke after the party.

You felt that little ball of light start to flicker in your chest again, and you were scared. But more than that you were excited. Despite everything else about you, you were a daughter of Aphrodite and a teenage girl, and the most romantic thing to ever happen at camp just happened to you. You guessed Luke had probably grovelled enough, and you would’ve told him that immediately if he hadn’t been swarmed by campers congratulating or laughing at him. Deciding you couldn’t put yourself in the middle of that crowd, you settled on telling him in the morning.

[lucasandlily]

Rui x Reader who is really affectionate, but can't touch him because of The Curse.

A/N: I'm alive!! Rui my beautiful beautiful tragic boy. I've actually been having a lot of brainrot for this game, particularly an isekai AU that made me contemplate making RP blog (I love you guys btw. This is probably my first fandom where they're so active, I've been really well connected with this fandom somehow and it's so fun!!), so I figured I might as well be writing it down now. This is an idea I've had spinning in my head for a while, so it's VERY self-indulgent/insert, but enjoy!! AO3 link here

Rui's POV. Second-person pronoun "You" is used. Angst! But also fluff!! (825 words)

You’ve always been an affectionate little thing. It’s something Rui finds adorable about you, staying optimistic despite all that looms over you, not letting any of the ghouls he KNOWS can be more than a little much sometimes destroy your positive attitude. It’s as if you decided to be the light in a place that literally has dark in its name, and he lov admires you for that.

He can’t help but feel the bitter green of envy though, when he watches you ruffle Lyca’s hair after he whines at you for treating him like a dog. 

He pointedly turns away from the look Ed gives him over your head when you relax into his chest after he leans over your shoulder.  

He just laughs along at your drunken antics when you nuzzle into Haru’s hand, somehow even more touchy when your cheeks are flushed with alcohol. 

He tries not to remember the flash of hurt, confusion, the first time he’d backed away from your hand when all you wanted to do was give him a pat for a job well done. He doesn’t know if it hurt more when your face morphed into regretful understanding, or when you apologised and told him you’d try not to do it again. 

Rui tells himself it’s for the better when he notices you’ve been avoiding him for the past week. He’d have done the same to you anyway, if he realised his feelings were starting to fester. He tries to not let it get to him when he hears you enter the Obscuary mansion, only to quickly patter up the stairs without stopping by the bar first, as you would have done previously. 

Maybe before, he would have made it a little competition to see who could mess up the other’s hair more. He’d watched you run your fingers through Lyca’s after you’d tousled it out of place, anyway. Maybe in another life, you’d gently hold his face as you showered him with kisses. He’d do the same to you anyway, if he wasn’t forced to keep his hands to himself. 

If he didn’t notice you hold your hand back every time you saw his mask slip. If he didn’t see your hand stop short before pulling it back to tell him he had a bit of hair out of place. 

It’s all just part of the cursed life, he tells himself. He should be getting used to it by now, he sighs as he walks down the hall over to his room. 

Behind him, he hears the jingle of the bell you like to wear on your keychain. He turns at the sound of your quick steps approaching. 

“Rui! Ruiruiruiii!!” You call.

“Ah, there you are! Haha, I’m not going anywhere you know~ though I guess I don’t mind being chased?” He teases as you approach. 

You smile up at him brightly, “I have something to show you!” You tell him, he notices now that you have a hand behind your back. 

“Hm? Aw, did you get me a gift? And here I was thinking you were hiding from me!” He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. Your smile falters a bit as you blink at his confession. 

But before he can backtrack with a “Just kidding!” your smile lightens again, eyes filling with some sort of resolve as you pull out… a glove on a stick? in your other hand.

He doesn’t pull away when he feels the simulation of a hand on his head. He can’t, when you look into his eyes with such unmistakable fondness. The awkward, stilted movements as you try to run the imitation hand through his hair communicates how long you’ve wanted to do this, and the tears that well up in his eyes betray how much he’s needed it. 

He feels the cloth soak up the tears when you move the glove down to hold his face. It feels soft under his skin, and he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

“How long did it take you to make this?” He asks as you let him lace his fingers with your hand extension. He squeezes the plush hand, feeling the soft give before it reaches the stick inside, inspecting where the glove and stick are attached. 

“Um! A week? It took a bit of experimenting to get it to stay on… And they don’t really sell gloves on campus either.” 

Your eyes crinkle when you look at him, the corners of your lips pull up triumphantly when he lets go of the hand to let you pat his head again. 

“You deserve at least this much,” you tell him. “I know it’s not really the same or anything, but I don’t wanna leave you out, y’know?” 

“It was worth it though, if it made you happy.” You look into his eyes as you say this, and he can’t help but believe you.

Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! I love you (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

[coralinnii]

❋ Falling into his arms ❋ feat: Vil ⭑ Azul ⭑ Deuce ⭑ Malleus genre: fluff note: gn!reader, no pronouns used with reader, unspecified relationships, reader is depicted as magicless, 

Trying out his new heels

Vil has an extensive collection of designer shoes of all styles from his modeling gigs or even gifts from companies to entice him to work with them. On occasion, he gets a few of the same style if he ever thinks he knows someone that would pull them off, like you for example. 

The young model offered to try out these pair of heels that he said would accentuate your legs even better and he wouldn’t stop until you tried them on, so you did. 

But these particular pair were taller than what you were used to walking in so rather than an elegant figure, you more resembled a baby deer wobbling on ice. You only managed a few steps before you tripped up and started falling forward from your loss of balance. 

Luckily Vil was keeping a watchful eye on you or before your literal fall from grace, the Pomefiore leader wrapped a strong arm around your waist to pull you upright. 

“Good grief, you’re a disaster in heels” he sighed which you pouted in rebuke. Blame the shoes, not you! 

“Try again, make sure to lift your legs so as to not trip and shift your weight accordingly” Vil instructed, strict as ever. 

But he didn’t move away from you. In fact, Vil offered his arm for you to hold on and stepped in line with you. The blond senior was probably making sure you don’t hurt yourself but you couldn’t help but think you two resemble a couple walking together which conjured feelings of butterflies in your stomach. 

You kept your silence about it, hoping you get to stay like this for as long as you can. However, Vil caught your poorly hidden glee and smiled bemused by your cuteness. 

Working at Monstro Lounge

It was a busy day at Monstro Lounge as Azul revealed a limited addition menu using a shipment of rare ingredients he procured recently. With the heavy traffic of customers, you took this as an opportunity to make some extra cash for the week. 

It was not because you wanted to stay close to a certain caecilian merman. Pfft, of course not. 

And even if you did, you didn’t manage to see much of Azul anyway when the stream of students coming in and out made you busy throughout your shift as you zoomed around the restaurant taking orders and serving dishes. 

In your haste to bring in a new order, you failed to notice a student getting up from his table and knocked you over, sending you flying backwards. 

Panicked, you braced yourself for a bruised back and/or bum. But to your surprise, you felt a pair of arms scooping you before you fell. In your peripheral vision, you noticed the flutter of a large silver coat and matching wavy locks. 

“While I appreciate the liveliness of my business, I must prefer to avoid mishaps” Azul quipped, bringing you upright to your feet with such ease that you never realized how sturdy the lean Housewarden really was. 

The student who knocked you over apologized sincerely to you which you easily forgiven and the atmosphere returned to a happier ambiance as everyone turned their focus away from you. 

You thanked Azul for rescuing you and he played off your gratitude with a business-like smile. “Well, you can also return the favor to me” How typical of the calculating student. 

But before he left to return to his office, Azul whispered in your direction and if you weren’t already hyper-focused on him, you could have missed it. 

“I rather you take a rest than to run yourself ragged and hurt yourself” 

Azul walked away before you could question him but you felt a warm bubbling feeling in your chest. Was the Azul Ashengrotto worried for you?

An accident during flying lessons 

Flying lessons are typically uneventful for you since you couldn’t participate with the other magical students. Being on the ground while you watch your classmates soar across the sky stung (though you supposed it’s better than running laps with Coach Vargas)

One day however, Grim had the brilliant idea of letting you fly with him on his broom. He was confident in his skills on the broom that he could handle the extra weight. He is a genius mage, after all. 

You should have had better common sense. You’ve seen his progress and you’ve seen him nosedive towards the ground a couple of times so how in Twisted Wonderland can he handle a passenger? But you let your envy win as you wanted to experience the joy of the wind blowing in your face as you flew so you agreed. 

So, that was a terrible idea. 

There was a moment of excitement as it seemed to be going well. Grim was keeping the broom steady despite the new addition on the stick. The two of you managed a few short laps and you started to let your guard down…then it happened. 

You heard Grim let out a yelp as the broomstick suddenly stopped mid-flight and suddenly jolted upwards, scaring you as you were knocked off the broom and started falling straight towards the field. 

The wind rushed by your ears, deafening you. You couldn’t hear anything but your own racing heart as tears escaped you. 

Then suddenly, you saw a familiar shade of blue as you crashed into a firm body as something - or someone - stopped your fall. Warm arms wrapped around you protectively as you and your saviour descended ungracefully but safely back onto the ground. 

“Yo, are you guys ok?!” You heard Ace yelled out as he dashed towards the two of you. “Nice catch, Deucey. Talk about a close call” 

It was Deuce who saved you? Clumsy but well-meaning Deuce? Your eyes looked over to see Deuce with his signature blue hair scolding Grim on your behalf and you placed a hand on your chest. Your heart calmed down a bit but it was too quick to be normal. Your face felt hot and your hands felt clammy. 

It’s just because of your adrenaline, right? 

A misstep while gargoyle watching

Be it by choice or by convenience, you became the main companion to the great fae mage during his nightly stroll to find gargoyles to appreciate. You walked through many nights with Malleus, listening intently to his passionate explanations of these old figures. Whether you like them or not, you have to appreciate the pure joy in Malleus’ voice as he talks endlessly about them. 

During one night, the two of you decided to take a closer look at the particularly old gargoyle as Malleus to look over the details of the figure that can only be seen up close. 

You were atop of the roof of an old manor, and you could feel how decrepit the building was as you felt certain parts of the roof coming loose or weaker than other areas. Malleus wasn’t worried as he lifted himself to not add his weight on the building. 

After a while though, you forgot your worries as you listened to your companion speak about the gargoyle that caught his interest tonight. He pointed out a particularly small detail that you couldn’t quite see. So, you took a step forward to take a better look. 

When suddenly, a piece of the roof broke beneath your feet and your foot was caught as you started to fall forward towards the edge of the roof. 

You let out a scream fearing the worst, but then you felt a rather gentle brush of wind before you felt your body slowing down. In a flurry of green lights you found yourself floating into Malleus’ arms as he caught you before you even descended off the roof. Gently, he pulled your foot out from the broken part of the manor and proceeded to float down towards the ground below with you in his arms. 

“I apologize. It seems I’ve underestimated the state of this building” His voice was calm but you saw glimpses of concern and guilt in Malleus’ green eyes. Without a hint of discomfort, he started to walk towards the Diasomnia dormitories “You have gotten hurt on my watch so I will take responsibility in tending to your injury” 

Even if you were shocked by the sudden turn of events, you didn’t voice any complaints as you chose to relish in the warmth of Malleus’ hold. You also didn’t question the young fae why he didn’t just teleport into his dorm or just heal your injured foot right there. 

You were willing to take the scolding from Sebek and the embarrassing teasing from Lilia any day for time spent with Malleus, and the feelings seem to be mutual

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

[Twst x Obey Me!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 4

PREVIOUS CHP.: PROLOGUE 3

Thank you guys for the likes, reblogs and comments.

Also, to the people who became my followers, I'll be forever grateful for that😊

CW: When MC gets mistaken as a guy, they get referred to as he/him, but the problem is that there's too many males around the MC.

So, I've decided to color the pronouns blue when it's MC that's being addressed. Just to avoid confusion.

CLARIFICATION: The headmaster, and MC knows that Yuu is from another world, so MC decided to play along and pretend that they're from the same world as Yuu. (The human world where MC came from is mostly similar to the human world that Yuu describes. i.e. landmarks, cultural, knowledge, current trends, anime and manga are all mostly the same.)

REMEMBER: Read this before the chapter.

Experience changes people.

If you see MC doing something you think you won't do and you decide to complain about it, remember this:

• You act the way you do because of the things that you've gone through in your life.

• MC is the same.

• They experienced a lot of traumatic events and almost lost their lives a fuck-ton of times.

• Because of that, they've changed. They've diverged from being you into the MC that they are now.

• The life you're living now shall be treated as the MC's canonical past.

• Also, because The Obey Me!cast feels bad from all the times you suffered and almost died because of them, they tend to overcompensate you.

• You get dressed in the finest of fabrics, most luxurious jewels, as well as housed and fed with the best things that the three realms have to offer.

• You don't take them for granted, but years of living with that lifestyle had raised your standards to new heights and changed the way that you act towards certain things.

• You're free to make up your own head canons if you don't like mine, also y'all can give me feedback if you want so I can improve my work.

• This story will be set a few years after the canon of the Obey Me games.

• • • • •

Who would've thought that it would be a bad idea to try to trick someone who literally reeks of luxury to live in an old, bout-to-fall-apart dormitory?

Well, certainly not Crowley.

That fact became known when 'The shady looking dorm leader™' and also, the tablet decided to tag along with you, Yuu and Crowley, but then had to help Yuu in holding you back so that you wouldn't beat the ever living crap out of the headmaster the moment he dared to bring y'all in front of this rustic establishment and say "It had charm". (Too many You's)

Oh really? really?? Oh you'll see real charm when I beat you straight into the afterlife you greasy son of a bitc–

*Ehem*

It did not end well.

So instead of that, the headmaster had to temporarily put you and your fellow stranded-in-dis-school-human into the infirmary as your temporary abode and promised to fix the shoddy dorm so that it can safely house people in it. (Grim will appear in the future, dw)

*Que Azul tryna make you stay in Octavinelle and you vehemently declining that offer.*

Also, you're starting to get creeped-out by the floating tablet that keeps following you around and won't stop with taking pictures. there's also the small maniacal giggles coming out of the device.

• • • • • •

So there you two are, two people that've been kidnapped by this school's fuckin carriage are now bonding in the infirmary and distracting each other by venting about problems back home. (You two are too wary to be able to sleep properly.)

Like, yes Yuu, I'm in a polyamorous with more than a dozen problematic individuals.

Yes, it works out. somehow

Damn, three assignments due tomorrow all from the same subject? Have you ever tried cheating off of your classmates?

Oh— wait what?! a classmate from biology was caught fucking with a professor in a classroom!? Seriously??

No, I unfortunately no longer have a grasp on the concept of private space and poverty.

Yes, maintaining a relationship with a lot of people at the same time can be hard.

A lot of them are rich.

Wait, a seatmate of yours really gave two free expensive sketch pads just because you asked?? Where can I find that person??

Yes they all act like my sugar daddies and my man-children in one way or another.

No, don't you dare pimp yourself out, okay? There may be a lot of people in my life but the important thing is that we all love each other.

We support, comfort, protect, and guide each other to the best we can.

No— that didn't happen in a day, I had to bend over backwards and almost die a shit-ton of times before I managed to wiggle myself firmly into the hearts of those fuckers.

...Q- Questions about our sex life will be automatically ignored.

Just.. be nice to others, even if it's seemingly stupid.

Unless they are absolute scum then just maintain distance.

You just gotta eyeball it to figure out when to stop being nice to someone.

Never and I mean NEVER treat anyone badly unless they did something unforgivable to you.

Don't call me kind. It's easier to have a grasp on other people if you're nice.

Pft— You once saw a book called "How to be a sugar baby 101" in the school library?! And you saw your principal reading it?!

Sure-sure, I'll help you with your math homework— wait a second.. Seriously?? We've been kidnapped, I ain't allowing you to do math. Where the hell did you even hide that thick-as-fuck test sheet anyways?? Up your ass?!

• • • •

You sigh for the third time this hour, looking at Yuu who's making a "Mom.. I threw up in the carpet... I'm sowwy🥺" expression as they stand beside your bed.

"What happened?"

Yuu winced, feeling embarrassed as they hear you talk to them like a disappointed parent, they had failed to appeal to Crowley about becoming a temporary student of this school and now had to be a janitor/errand kid.

"The headmaster said that I'll be the handy-man of the campus while he searches for a way to get us home..."

You feel a vein in your head throb and your eye start to twitch by of the sheer audacity being shown in front of your face.

You are now feeling the immense urge to hex that bird-bitch.

Satan sat straight in his seat, speaking out to the others in the meeting table.

"I can feel irritation and the urge to curse someone again." He said.

It would've been funny if this was another situation.

"That's definitely from MC, isn't it? You mentioned being half-asleep and feeling MC get agitated through your pact mark, right?" Diavolo asked.

"Yes, at least our pacts are still intact..." Satan nodded.

"Great, we can use this to monitor MC even if they're far away." Lucifer stated.

Countless search-parties and interrogations have already been conducted, but they're still clueless on where you can be or who could've taken you.

Even Barbatos couldn't see what had happened.

They're starting to get agitated, MC..

• • • • •

Jade watched as Azul frantically drafts and redrafts a new plan of his.

It seems that something caught the eye of their housewarden in the ceremony today.

"What could be so eye-catching that you're in such a hurry to obtain it, Azul?" Jade couldn't contain his curiosity and asked.

"It's a new student, Jade." Azul started.

"He possesses such a large amount of magical artifacts in his hands, It's unbelievable! They were all high quality too!"

Jade blinks.

"Don't you have enough magical artifacts around?"

Jade is confusion.

"You don't know it because you weren't there." Azul narrowed his eyes at Jade.

"I first thought those jewelry of his were similar to the ones that you can buy with enough money in annual auctions, but then I realized that it's very likely that those jewelry are customized."

"...How so?"

"So I decided to try and take a closer look, but when I actually got closer and almost touched one of them, I felt a strong thrum of magic that I haven't felt before!"

Oh?

Now that got Jade's attention.

Azul has been exposed to a lot of strong, powerful people and magical artifacts over the years that he and his twin were following this dormleader of theirs and yet there was actually an artifact so strong that he can feel strong waves of magic by just almost touching it?

How curious..... If the magic of the artifact was so strong, why didn't Azul sense it up until he literally almost held it in his hands?

Seems like this year won't be boring, after all..

• • • • •

BONUS: Someone has a crush.

"Brother, Your package has arrived— What are you... Are you making fan art of Mr. [L/n]...?"

Idia screams like a dumb girl in a horror movie as he tries to block the screen with his body.

"O-ORTHO?! WH-WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT KNOCKING FIRST??!"

"And... what's with the pose?"

Ortho tilts head innocently, confused on why his brother is drawing a new student in a pose that can often be seen on videos that are called "Thirst traps". he's still confused about why they're called that way.

Idia: "O- ORTHO THIS ISN'T ANYTHING BAD I SWEARAHGJSI—"

*Starts to fuckin steam*

"brOTHER YOU'RE BURNING THE CHAIR!"

"AH CRAP!"

← Pr.3 | Chapter List | Pr. 5 →

Don't forget to like, comment and reblog guys, It's a big help :3

What do y'all think of the chapter? pls respond, I need feedback🥺

I woke up today and decided to kick canon's ass.

Elae: Thanks for reading this far.☺️

See y'all next time~

Next chapter: Prologue 5

@f0urleafedcl0ver

@a-traveling-void-human

@speckle-meow-meow

@leviathans-tail-scales

@citrus-cinnamon

@prefesro

[idyllic-affections]

achilles heel ii.

summary. love is a sin. the regrator is a sinner.

trigger & content warnings. threats of physical violence, nightmares.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. found family (moreso than the first post), fluff, slight angst. pantalone & young teen!reader, slight arlecchino & young teen!reader. 2.6k words. they/them pronouns used for [name]. this fic is divided into six drabble-like sections. this fic is the second part of achilles heel; please read the first post before reading this one.

author's thoughts. teehee pantalone....... he is never dad-ified enough i swear. he has so much dad potential. look at him. silly rich guy (<- he is a criminal and is NOT silly).

i. a slip of the tongue ♡

       Their enrollment into the House of Hearth came with two specific conditions:

       One, Arlecchino would not have ultimate authority over them. They didn't disrespect her regardless, but Pantalone was insistent that her authority should not exceed his over them. He was their caretaker, after all. They were a special case in the Knave's orphanage—an orphan but not quite an orphan.

       Two, that they returned to his residence on weekends, which wasn't something they or Arlecchino has any qualms with. She didn't exactly get along with the Ninth, but oddly, she didn't argue either of his conditions.

       (They felt immeasurably guilty, however, that they had a home to return to. That was a privilege unique to them. The orphans of the House of Hearth did not have such a luxury; hell, those children could not even dream of a home outside of the orphanage.)

       This was one such weekend. Upon returning home, they let themselves into Pantalone's office—of course, not before ensuring he was not occupied with another Harbinger or other business partners of his. Had he been, they would have only entered once he was done.

       "I'm back, Father."

       ...

       Immediate terror stuck their chest. Admittedly, their reaction once they processed what had just come out of their mouth was a bit dramatic, but still! Had Arlecchino's children somehow rubbed off on them? All of her children tended to call her 'Father', but they only ever called her by her name...

       The Regrator paused what he was doing, wordlessly setting his pen down.

       "...Sorry, dear, could you repeat that? I didn't quite hear you."

       "Um. I said I'm back."

       "After that."

       "..."

       "[Name]."

       "I didn't say anything after, I swear." They were completely flustered now, hand shyly fidgeting with the strands of hair securely held back by what had once been Arlecchino's hair clip while their gaze settled anywhere that wasn't on the Harbinger. "I didn't..."

       "You are a terrible liar."

       "I'm— I'm not."

       He smiled at that, gingerly shedding his gloves and rings.

       He thought it was a bit cruel of him to create any kind of distance between himself and the little thief he brought into his home, especially in what was such an important and vulnerable moment.

       It was then that he beckoned them closer. They obliged, albeit hesitantly. His hands gently smoothed down some wild strands of their hair—presumably caused by whatever the Knave had put them through that day. His tenderness seemed to calm them down a little bit.

       "Do you see me as a father figure, [Name]?"

       They pouted. "I don't know. Maybe. It just came out. I didn't think about it. Sorry."

       If Pantalone was any more morally correct, he might worry about who they were looking up to, but...

       Their immorality was inevitable, really, so he tried not to concern himself with it too much. It was the one consequence associated with taking them in. It was one that simply couldn't be avoided.

       Pantalone had come to terms with that fact some time ago.

       "Don't apologize. I don't mind if that is the case."

       "...Okay."

       He held himself together with skillful grace that was only to be expected of someone like him, but the second they left his office, he slammed his head on his desk, resisting the compelling urge to just sob.

       (...He was probably the reason they had become a tad dramatic.)

       Oh.

       That day, the Ninth learned two things:

       One, [Name] had adopted a more formal method of speech, which was good. It would be useful in the future. His lower priority business partners, the general nobility of Snezhnaya and other nations... those people would all expect his child to take on a more refined demeanor. It was good that they already were.

       Two, which was objectively more important in his mind (because really, he did not care for the opinions of people who had never struggled a single day in their lives), he had unexpectedly become an actual father. Not just a caretaker, but a father.

       Oh, fuck.

ii. third time's a charm ♡

       "Can I keep him?"

       "Absolutely not."

       "Please? Come on. He won't cause any trouble!"

       Pantalone pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing deeply. How could he have possibly gotten himself into this situation a second time? Perhaps he really was spoiling them just a bit too much. "[Name]. You cannot continue bringing wild animals into our home."

       They pouted, holding up the little feline in their arms. It may have been small and harmless at the moment, but a snow leopard such as the one they snatched up from the streets would surely grow impossibly bigger, provided enough time and proper nutrition. "Father..."

       He shot them an annoyed look. They could only smile innocently.

       "Don't 'Father' me, [Name]."

       "I've taken good care of Winter thus far!" Said fox chirped upon hearing her name. "Look, see—she's perfectly healthy. I can handle another pet!"

       "You named her Winter?"

       They shrugged. "It's always winter in Snezhnaya, so..."

       He couldn't help but chuckle fondly, teasing, "Clever."

       "I doubt you would have came up with a better name, Father," they huffed playfully. "Anyways, come on! Look, how can you say no to a little face like this?"

       Neither of the two said anything for a moment. [Name] held up the little squirming cat with one hand, supporting its hind legs with the other.

       It was clear to Pantalone that they would not budge.

       A deep sigh left his lips.

       They knew they had won.

       Once again, Pantalone welcomed another unexpected guest into his household.

       He could unflinchingly deny Il Dottore further funding for his experiments. He could ruthlessly send out the agents employed under his command to collect the debts of those foolish enough to leave them unpaid without so much as a second thought.

       Somehow, he could not deny his child another exotic animal.

       Oh well. At least the feline would eventually grow into a suitable bodyguard for [Name], he supposed.

iii. ultimatum ♡

       Whenever Pantalone had free time during the work week—which... wasn't very often—he had grown into a habit of visiting the House of Hearth.

       His darling child was there. How could he be expected to stay away?

       (The Knave grit her teeth, clenched her jaw, and ultimately bit her tongue when he kept showing his face in her territory again and again. As much as she didn't like the Ninth... she would have to tolerate it, she supposed. He was too preoccupied with [Name] to bother her the majority of the time, anyway.)

       The children were all polite and respectful with him whenever he came around, often pointing him in the direction of their sibling-in-arms. They were typically lingering around the younger children, engaging with them and entertaining them in a way that a doting older sibling might, but for some reason...

       They weren't there that day.

       "One of the matrons wanted to talk to [Name], sir. I don't know why," one of the younger children his child typically surrounded themselves with had told him.

       He was surprised to find that, rather than wanting to speak to [Name], one of Arlecchino's employees seemed to have forgotten just whose child it was she was speaking to.

       "We are raising soldiers," a woman harshly spat, "not regular children. It would be in your best interests, Mx. [Name], to quit teaching them to be soft."

       They blinked.

       "...Um. They're five."

       "Are you even listening?!"

       "Listen," they began, shifting their weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "They're barely five, okay? They'll learn. They can't even wield a sword properly yet. Half of them can't read mid-level literature yet. For now, I think they deserve attention from someone they can trust who won't hurt them. I mean... if I were really doing something wrong, Arle surely would have told me—"

       "You rich little brat."

       That stung, admittedly. With nervous fingers, they plucked at the threads of their sleeve.

       "By the Tsaritsa, if the Ninth himself weren't so enamored with you, I would have your head mounted on the wall for the disrespect you have shown not only us but our Lord."

       She raised a hand, and they flinched back, and then—

       Nothing came.

       "Fa— Father... hi."

       The Regrator's grip on her wrist was crushing, rage barely concealed behind a tight-lipped smile.

       "Hello, dear." Pantalone's eyes were kind when they were on his child, but glazed over with an unsettling iciness upon facing the woman. He leaned down, head tilting slightly as he observed the tense matron who so boldly dared to raise a hand to his child. "Now, I'm certain this was a one-time incident, unless of course you would be interested in taking a... leave of absence to see the Doctor, hm?" His grip tightened slightly in a wordless threat, a promise of a fate more vile than death itself. "A permanent leave of absence, that is."

       Tension weighed heavily in the air.

       Of course, the matron relented. She would have been foolish to not when the fate promised to her would be undoubtedly worse than death.

       "...No, of course not, sir. It won't happen again."

       He released her trembling wrist, adjusting his rings nonchalantly.

       "Good. Go on, then. Leave us."

       "Yes, Lord Ninth."

       She turned on her heel, bowing her head respectfully to both the Regrator and his child before rounding the corner of the hall. Just like that, she was gone.

       Instantly, all his attention shifted to [Name].

       "Are you alright?" he murmured softly, only for their ears to hear. He kneeled down to their level and gingerly tilted their chin upwards to check if Arlecchino's matron left any wounds behind.

       "Yeah, I'm— I'm fine..."

       He was quiet for a moment, thumb gently rubbing along their cheekbone and wiping away the beginnings of tears. The Knave would not like to see them in such a state. The Ninth didn't particularly care for her opinion, but he knew very well that his child did, to a certain degree.

       "...Don't cry, dear. Do not allow yourself to be pushed around. You are worth infinitely more than any agent among our ranks. Do you understand?"

       "Mm-hm. I'm just..." They gnawed on the corner of their lip. "I guess I'm used to it."

       He was quiet for a moment.

       "That will change," he concluded. "You will never be treated so poorly ever again."

iv. bonding ♡

       "Were you never given the opportunity to bake?"

       They hummed thoughtfully, lips pulled into a calm and content smile as they observed their father knead the bread dough they took part in making.

       Indeed, a man as prestigious as him could just have one of his employees do this... but what kind of parent would he be if he refused to bond with his child alone? No genuine bonding would take place if he was not the one engaging with them.

       ...

       Baking also happened to a special place in his heart as a child of poverty, so he didn't mind doing it.

       "Not really. I couldn't afford to. It was too expensive," they mused, trailing off briefly. Pantalone was quiet—patient. He didn't interrupt them or urge them to speak. He simply waited for them to go on. "I didn't get paid well when I was taking thievery commissions. I was small and weak, so it was easy for those older people who commissioned my work to scam me out of what I was owed."

       The Regrator made a mental note to investigate those people further.

       For now, though, his focus was on them.

       "I understand," he reassured. "Baking is indeed an expensive hobby. There was a time where even I could not afford it."

       "I really wouldn't have believed you if you hadn't told me," they said, stealing and snacking on some of the fruits spread across the counter. The Harbinger chuckled fondly, pinching their cheek.

       "Stop that. If you keep that up, we won't have anything to put in the bread. Now, for the next step..."

v. nightmare ♡

       It was the middle of the night when they jolted awake, skin dampened with a cold sweat and fingers relentlessly shaking.

       The House of Hearth's hardwood floor was cold against their bare feet, but it really didn't bother them. It wasn't anything they weren't used to, anything` they hadn't experienced in their past. It was with quiet and purposeful steps that they snuck out of the room they shared with a handful of the younger kids that bonded closely with them.

       Their years of thievery still benefitted them, it seemed, as they effortlessly snuck out without awakening anyone else.

       "What are you doing up at such an awful hour?"

       They practically leapt out of their skin, heart hammering in their chest at Arlecchino's sudden appearance.

       "I, uh—" they began, taking deep breaths in the hopes of calming themselves down. "Um, sorry. You frightened me."

       "Oh? My apologies, then, [Name]."

       Whether or not her apology was sincere was debatable. She seemed to derive very slight amusement from their fright, but gave them a firm pat on the head. It was comforting in its own way.

       "...I had a nightmare," they reluctantly admitted, "so I can't really sleep. Sorry."

       "It isn't uncommon for these things to happen," she replied. "Your apology is unwarranted. You aren't the first and I doubt you will be the last to be unable to sleep."

       "Arle, um... I know I'm not supposed to leave again until tomorrow, but..."

       Arlecchino's eyes were trained precisely on them, and perhaps she might have looked irritated, but in reality, she could not find it within her to be frustrated. They were strong and smart and excelled in the things that they needed to excel in. There was no reason for her to be frustrated with them for something so simple. It was normal for children to seek out their parent following a distressing experience.

       "I will take you back to the Regrator's residence, then. Consider it a reward for your high performance this week."

       "Ah, really? Thank you, Arle."

       "Go get your things. Meet me outside."

vi. found family ♡

       "You're home early, [Name]."

       When they entered Pantalone's office (he lamented the fact that he was still working at such a late hour, but such was unfortunately his obligation as a Harbinger), he was pleasantly surprised, quietly setting down his pen and offering them his full attention.

       "I know." They nodded. "Arle said I performed well this week, so she brought me home a day early. I guess she probably had something to do elsewhere anyway, since she offered."

       "I see."

       A silence settled for a moment.

       The Ninth instantly knew something was wrong when their fingers reached up to their sleeve, absently picking and pulling at the threads. He'd noticed that habit of theirs back when he first put them in the public eye.

       "If there is something troubling you, dear, you are more than welcome to tell me."

       "It's stupid," they murmured, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Maybe they should have just stayed back at the House of Hearth.

       "If it's bothering you, it is most definitely not."

       "I had a nightmare."

       "Ah, I see. Is that why you've come home so late?"

       "...Yes."

       "Do you want to stay with me for the time being, then?" When they nodded, he smiled kindly, opening one arm for them so that the other could be free to finish what remained of his paperwork.

       They were secured in his arms the second he made his wordless offer.

       His fingers tenderly carded through their hair, mindful to avoid his rings catching uncomfortably on their locks.

       Love is a sin.

       In Snezhnaya, love is a sin.

       For his child, Pantalone was a sinner.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[yuri-is-online]

Congrats on 300! You more than deserve it. If it’s alright, could you write Jealousy pt. 2 for Idia and Vil? Thanks <3

9. Jealousy pt. 2- someone from a rival school asks for your number

Thank you very much friend (╥﹏╥) Of course I can, I hope you like it!

notes: notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, mild RSA slander, reference to the events of chapter 5 (Vil). If you saw this post for the .3 seconds I posted it before it was done baking I am so sorry. Check out the rest of the event requests on my masterlist here.

Idia

"Thank you so much for showing me around." The RSA boy has been strangely polite to you and Idia ever since you intervened in their... "conversation." Not that he has been exactly paying attention to the very tall very blue boy who has been hovering around you looking for a good moment to cut in. "The NRC layout is just so different to what I'm used to." he laughs awkwardly and you involuntarily look at Idia.

"Hope it stays that way." He mutters and you try to avoid making any noise of agreement in hopes it doesn't provoke any more arguing between them. The RSA kid pretends not to notice, but the smile that spreads across his face suggests he thinks Idia's grumbling makes him look better somehow. You know his attempt at moving closer to you when you take out your phone certainty doesn't.

"Um, I'd like a chance to thank you properly, but I don't think we'll get a chance to see each other again during the fair..."

"Yeah I'm going to be pretty busy." You state, really hoping he gets the point.

[yuu] run

[idia] ???

[idia] and just leave u with sir scam a lot? nah

"Could I have your number then?" He asks, completely unaware that there are two introverts begging for the release of death in front of him.

"Nah sorry I don't have a phone." You can't find the meme you want to send Idia so you settle on a string of hearts while he tries to avoid laughing in the other guys extremely confused face.

[idia] cute

Vil

Vil has never once wished to be anyone other than exactly who he was. Why would he? The amount of work he had put in to commanding the attention he did would be pointless if he wanted to throw it all away and be somebody else. He should be secure in his position... he is secure in his position... that's why he finds this entire situation so... annoying.

"Yuu! I'm surprised you decided to participate in the VDC, you said you weren't going to." Neige had turned his attention to you as soon as he was done speaking to Rook, who looks just as flabbergasted as you do that the idol was speaking to you.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we've met?" You are clearly confused, and Vil wants to think entirely too concerned with his condition to spare the other boy a single thought. But still, like a worm working it's way to the core of an apple, Neige moves happily over to you trying to rot what little Vil can still claim as entirely his.

"I wasn't dressed as nicely last time sorry," he is clearly genuinely disappointed "we met when you came with the NRC Headmage to talk about the VDC, remember?" You blink, looking between Neige and Grim in increasing confusion. "I forgot to tell you my name, I've been thinking about it a lot... I really wanted to ask for your number so I could talk to you again."

"I don't really remember sorry, did you change your hair or something?" This is getting increasingly awkward for everyone but Neige who weathers it all with a smile as Vil tries to push down the implications of how pleased this development makes him feel.

Serves you right brat, Vil knows that Yuu will never forget meeting him.

[aliciaasky]

In the back of my mind

Paring: Anakin Skywalker x f!reader (she/her pronouns!) / Anakin Skywalker x Padmé Amidala

Feat: wildflower from Billie Eilish.

Summary: before Padmé and Anakin there was someone else. But best friends don’t betray each other, do they? (Mostly Padmé‘s POV.)

A/n: this might be a little more complicated, so pay close attention to who‘s meant with 'her‘ and it really shouldn’t be a problem! Just a short little angsty Drabble I wanted to share, enjoy!

Padmé and her had been best friends ever since she got into politics, she was the only one who understood her. They would sit and talk about all the world matters until they had to go home.

When they both were in desperate need of a bodyguard due to life threatening conditions, they were both so giddy knowing that the two best Jedi‘s were coming to protect them.

Anakin and her got along quick, quicker than Padmé had ever seen her best friend get along with anyone.

His ponytail and his hypnotizing eyes really did the trick.

Anakin only remembered being in love with Padmé all his life, counting the days until he saw her again. But she didn’t want him, and he was sick of coming across as pushy.

Padmé was so happy for her best friend when she and Anakin became official. She listened to all the stories with excitement, giving her advice on how to kiss, or which positions men liked best.

For two whole years she watched her best friend shine with the boy who used to be in love with her.

But she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, so she really didn’t have any right to be upset. Her best friend had deserved this. A great guy such like Ani.

When they broke up due to him cheating on her drunkenly, Padmé held her tight.

“He‘s not worth it.“ “he‘s such an idiot for losing you!“

The little twinge of hope in her chest didn’t show.

She was crying on my shoulder, all I could do was hold her,

“You’re the Best friend I could ever have.“ She hugs Padmé tightly, and she put on a fake smile.

Padmé watched her get ready for her date later, pretending to be so proud of her for finally getting over Anakin.

She didn’t mention her own date that she had later that day.

Only made us closer

Anakin was desperate. He wouldn’t leave her alone.

It was not her fault.

Until July,

She didn’t want this, she didn’t want to fall for her best friend’s ex boyfriend.

But she did anyway, doesn’t matter how much she tried to deny and fight it.

“Anakin you know we can’t!“ she cried “what about-“ but he cut her off,

“What about us, Padmé? Don’t we deserve happiness? I love you.“ he begged.

And I know that you love me, you don’t need to remind me.

The talk was what Padmé dreaded the most.

So she didn’t talk.

She avoided her as best as possible, only talked when necessary.

Soon they grew apart, Padmé made sure she would think it only happened because of time,

Because sometimes friends just grow apart, it’s the circle of life, isn’t it?

But when she and Anakin walked by her, hand in hand, and their eyes met briefly,

Padmé knew that she knows now.

That she knows why Padmé has been avoiding her.

That she knows why they grew apart, why their friendship had to end.

Because Padmé took something that was once hers.

And they never spoke again.

I should put it all behind me.. shouldn’t I?

“We‘re here!“ Anakin announced proudly, "do you like it?“

Padmé looked at the lake in front of her.

“And then he took me to the lake and told me he loved me! How sweet is that? It was-“ both girls squealed together.

“Perfect,“ Padmé finished the sentence she had once heard in a different scenario,

“It’s perfect.“ she looked at the lake.

But I see her,

In the back of my mind.

All the time.

[munson-blurbs]

Bug❤️ let me tell you that your idea meet-cute idea is absolutely great, and I was wondering if I can request one with Eddie?

My pronouns are she/her, I would describe myself as shy and quiet, very weird who lives in her own world most of the time (especially around people I don't know very well) but also very stubborn. I love to read Stephen King books, watch TV shows and then overanalyze them and every detail, I love working with colors but also going out to walk, especially at the parks where you can meet some cute ducks. I also really love dogs and cats too.

I would also say that it can be very difficult for me to make friends irl and not much into pda, but with the right person, everything become more easy.

Not sure if what I wrote is good and gave you all you needed, but anyway, thank you for this ❤️

You meet while reading at the park!

CW: I guess some spoilers for 'Salem's Lot, but that's pretty much it WC: 657 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

There’s no better way to spend a springtime Saturday afternoon in Hawkins than reading by the pond. 

A cool breeze rippled the pages of your book. It wasn’t your first time reading ‘Salem’s Lot, and it probably won’t be your last. With each reread, you noticed different details about Ben Mears’ time hunting down the vampires that have taken over the small town. 

Easing back into the bench, you let Hawkins fade into the background and immersed yourself in the story. What would you do if an evil entity took over your home? Would you fight it off? Would you even recognize that it was, in fact, evil? Or would you be just as clueless as the fictional residents of Jerusalem’s Lot?

You barely had time to ponder your potential fate before a frantic voice cut into your thoughts. 

“Hey! Reginald, wait your turn!”

Your attention slid right to the man sitting cross-legged in front of the pond, a box of crackers in his lap. Three ducklings surrounded him, one shoving himself in front of the others to get the first nibble. 

The man shook his long curls out of his face. “Seriously, dude, you’re being a dick.” He crumbled a cracker in his palm and held it out to the other two ducklings. “Now you’re gonna go last. How do you like that?”

You giggled, and it must’ve been louder than you’d intended, because the guy whipped his head around for a moment to look at you. He was…beautiful. You lost yourself in his eyes for a moment, then in the smile that appeared at the sound of your laughter. 

A third beak pecked at his palm, bringing him back to the task at hand, and he groaned. “Dammit, Reginald!” Resigned, he crumbled up another cracker and let the ducklings eat it. 

Placing a bookmark between the pages, you timidly made your way over to the patch of grass where he sat. “Did you just call that duckling Reginald?” You asked, not hiding the amusement in your tone. 

The man nodded. “Mhm. Named him that myself,” he said proudly. 

“Why ‘Reginald’?”

“Because,” he grinned, “he has that little mark on his neck that looks like a bowtie. Very distinguished. So he needed a name to match.”

You tucked your lips into your mouth to avoid bursting into laughter. “I see,” you managed. “Do the others have names, too?”

“Of course!” He almost sounded offended, like you were inferring some kind of neglect on his part. “The smaller one is Eclair, because she tried to steal an eclair from me the first time we met. And the bigger one is Cujo.”

Your eyes widened and lit up. “Like from the Stephen King book?”

“The one and only.” He grinned proudly. “Though this guy is more of a gentle giant than a rabid, carnivorous monster.” He cocked his head to the side. “And what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Your name. Mine’s Eddie, by the way.”

You introduced yourself, feeling your heart flutter when he repeated your name back to you. It sounded perfect when he said it. Gesturing to the box of crackers, you asked, “can I feed them one?”

“Absolutely.” Eddie narrowed his eyes pensively. “Just don’t fall for any of Reginald’s bullshit. If you do, he’ll walk all over you. Trust me.”

There was an electric spark when your fingertips brushed his as he handed you a cracker. Did he feel that, too?

Meanwhile, Reginald quacked his frustration that you hadn’t yet offered him anything to eat. 

Eddie nudged the overzealous baby bird out of the way. “Hey, you need to be respectful of the cute girl.” He shook his head in mock frustration. “I’m sorry. We’re still working on our manners.”

“I see.” You watched as Eddie corralled the ducklings as best as he could. “Well, I’m happy to help.”

With a shy smile, he watched you feed the crumbs to the ducklings. 

“We’re happy, too.”

--

[sundrop-writes]

Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

The Titans have faced a lot together, but never something quite as troubling as the possible return of an inter-dimensional demon that shreds apart worlds and leaves nothing standing in its wake.

You hate to admit it, but even standing with your team - you're afraid. Dick tries his best to comfort you, but for once during his career as noble, selfless team leader - he takes a moment to be selfish, and does something that he has been avoiding doing for years.

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 4, Episode 6.

Word Count: 2,900

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this one is a bit more on the angsty side; this fic features major spoilers for season 4 (and for the majority of the show) - so if you're watching it for the first time or you haven't seen it yet and you want to watch it spoiler free, then avoid this fic for now; the reader character is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; the reader is one of the original Titans; the reader and Dick are childhood friends through the Justice League - the reader is the adoptive child of Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (the reader is a talented marksman and trained in combat); the reader is mentioned to be an orphan (again, aren't all good superheroes); major pining from Dick - he has had a crush on the reader since they were kids (most of this is from his POV, so it's not specified if the reader has returned his feelings for just as long); mentions of canon character deaths; a lot of this is from Dick's POV so - warnings for Dick being emotionally constipated and referring to romantic feelings as a 'disease'; this is an AU where Dickkory never happened; mentions of canon violence - not described in graphic detail; mentions of the apocalypse/the world ending (and the anxiety this can cause); the reader is feeling extreme fear/anxiety due to the possible end of the world; technically - unresolved pining. I believe that's it.

A/N: The second part of the First Kiss series! I had a lot of fun with this one. This is the first really romantic fic I have written for Dick, and I enjoyed it so much omg. I was so tempted to write an enemies to lovers version with him, because he annoys me so much in the canon, and I feel like 'kissing in the middle of a heated argument' would work so well with his character - but maybe we'll save that one for Jason (or Hank, idk). instead, I went with emotionally constipated Dick Grayson, because that is sooo canon. he would not admit his feelings for someone if he had a gun to his head. and I had a lot of fun writing this mostly from his POV. I feel like he is such an interesting POV character to work with, so I might do more from him in the future. anyway, please enjoy!!

...

Stress. 

There were few other words to describe the horrible feeling that was dense in the air around them. 

Everyone was looking to Dick for answers, and unfortunately, he had none. Sebastian was missing, likely kidnapped by Mother Mayhem in order to complete a ritual that would likely mean the end of the world. Rachel had lost her powers and the Titans needed her unique form of magic now more than ever. Tim was impatient, annoyed because Dick wasn’t letting him use the minimal training that he had. But of course, Dick was hesitant to let the next would-be Robin off the bench after what had happened to Jason. 

(Dick could barely bring himself to think about Jason these days.) 

Kory was having difficulty controlling her newfound powers, and so was Gar. Which left the team weakened on all sides. Jinx was helpful on the magic front, but she was far from easy to control when it came to executing plans and corralling her rather wild personality. 

And Dick didn’t even want to think about what was happening with Conner. He just had to pray that this whole shaved-head, Lex Luthor impression was part of his mourning for his would-be father, and hopefully - it would be temporary. 

All of the chaos among the team left Dick leaning on you. As usual, you were likely the only person on the team who wasn’t experiencing any extreme drama. You were the only Titan with some true stability. 

And you were the person on the team with the most experience. Even more than Dick himself. Beyond being part of the original Titans team that had helped to found The Tower, you had been trained under Oliver Queen, who was part of the Justice League as Green Arrow. Ollie had taken you on as his own child when your parents died and left him as your carer in their will. Naturally, early into your childhood, he had started training you in the art of combat and marksmanship - so you grew up with intense skill. 

You and Dick met soon after he was adopted by Bruce. And much like Donna, you were a kind face and a wise voice that kept him mentally grounded well into adulthood. But you were also someone mischievous that made him smile; someone he could always turn to for a well timed laugh. 

You always kept him sane. 

And very much unlike Donna - soon after he met you, Dick started to develop feelings for you. 

Of course, back then, it was just a silly crush. When he told Donna about it at the time, she laughed. And when he had hidden his face in embarrassment, she then told him that it was ‘cute’. She told him that you two would be good together when you got older. So naturally, Dick took her words as biblically concrete advice. 

He decided that he should wait for you. That the two of you would be good together when you got older. 

So he waited. 

And he waited. And eventually - life got in the way. 

He had a huge falling out with Bruce, things at the Tower went south. It was never the right time to tell you. How the hell could he tell his best friend that he had those big, terrifying feelings mounting inside of him, worsening each year like a disease? 

It was never the right time to tell you because he was dodging disasters left and right and he needed you more as a friend than as a lover. He needed you as a brick wall to lean on. He needed you as that voice of common sense in his ear - the leader’s loyal first mate, giving him advice behind the curtain and keeping his head on straight. 

He didn’t need to tell you about his awful, festering feelings and have you gone from his life too. 

When Garth died, and then Jericho died and the Tower shuddered, it still didn't feel like the right time. Wounds were tender and even if you were never downright angry at him like everyone else was - you needed your space. Dick respected that. 

That day, you stood at the mouth of the elevator, about to leave for Star City to go and lick your emotional wounds at Ollie’s for a while, and you looked at Dick with tears in your eyes - looked at him like you were waiting for him to say it. But it wasn’t the right time. 

He still thought about you every single day when he was in Detroit. And then - he showed up at your door with a scared little girl, needing more advice, needing that brick wall again. It was only natural that when chaos found him, he needed your help. 

He hated that your advice was to call in Dawn and Hank. He relied on you, and you relied on family. And he hated that they were waiting at your apartment, called against his will once he had left to do some more sleuthing. 

But he found that you were right when he saw how Dawn bonded with Rachel, when Hank put up a vicious fight against those strangers who came to collect her in the name of her father. 

Watching you get thrown off that roof sent Dick’s heart through his stomach. As he clung onto the rooftop with his fingers and the muscles of his arm burned, all he could think about was you. As you sputtered out blood and he cradled your head, unsure of how to help you, terror gripped him in a way that it never had before in his life, because he realized that he might actually lose the most important person in his life. 

As you lay in the hospital, a set of machines barely keeping you alive, with Dawn loyally holding your hand in comfort and Hank seething to get revenge on the people who had hurt you - Dick ached with regret and not having told you. 

Still, when you showed up at that house in Ohio, somehow magically awakened from your near death by Rachel's powers - Dick felt that it just wasn't the right time. He swallowed his regrets like ash in his mouth when he reunited with you, hugged you tight. He didn’t even consider telling you about his feelings to be on the radar of possibility. 

When you came back to the Tower to help bring in Doctor Light - it just wasn't the right time. When you showed up in Gotham to help bring down Red Hood - it just wasn't the right time. 

Even when Dick died and was brought back to life by some strange magical pit, a pool of waters that brought him dreams of a far off life with you - it still wasn’t the right time. 

You were there to Dick's call, loyal and waiting, every single time. You looked at him with as much love and longing in your eyes as he needed (at least, according to Dawn and Donna you did) - but still, it never felt like the right time. 

It never felt like the right time to destabilize his entire life by uprooting the one good friendship he had. It never felt like the right time to truly fuck things up with you. 

Now, because of some cult that Dick believed to be long gone and a stupid blood ritual, the world was ending, and it still didn't feel like the right time. 

He wasn't the son of a demon from another dimension, but he still felt cursed. 

When Dick saw you slip out of the room, clearly trying to sneak away from the group, his stomach twisted with nerves. It was rare that you of all people cracked under the pressure. It was rare that you needed to escape from the madness for a breath. He mumbled an excuse to Kory and then chased after you, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to tell where he was truly going - but truthfully, he didn’t care. 

He easily caught you in one of the late night deserted halls of STAR Labs. 

The many glass walls overlooked the city - a collection of bright lights that made up Metropolis. Thousands of people that you never knew, that you had never met before. People that all seemed too important now as you contemplated their lives; thought about the fact that you might not be able to save them. 

Dick saw the sickly look on your face, the glassy sheen of guilt in your eyes even from far off as you leaned on the polished titanium railing that separated the upper floors from the atrium. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall and you heard him approaching from far off. He made no effort to sneak up on you or conceal himself, not wanting to startle you when you were already in such a distressed state. 

The minute you looked over your shoulder and saw him, your face broke from that dark, doomed frown into a haste smile, and you reached up to wipe away your tears, attempting to be subtle with that motion. You were trying to hide yourself from him. 

Dick came to stand beside you, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms. He desperately wanted to shelter you away from any fear you might be feeling. Maybe it was selfish; wanting to hold you, wanting to protect you from anything in the world that could possibly harm you. Maybe it was downright idiotic - because realistically, he knew that couldn't protect you from this kind of harm. He couldn’t protect you from the world ending. 

“Y/N-” Dick murmured your name gently, clutching a fist tightly by his side to resist the urge to reach out and soothe a hand over the trembling muscles of your jaw. 

You were holding in a sob, and it came out as a harsh, sarcastic laugh instead. 

“I know.” You said. “I know. You're doing that Team Leader Guy Thing.” 

You tried to make it sound playful and joking, but with your voice wet and soaked with worry and fear, it came off as a pathetic bid to deflect. 

Dick wasn’t sure how to reply. Because yes, he was doing that ‘Team Leader Guy Thing’. He was trying his best to, anyway. 

“You're gonna ask ‘are you okay?’ and I'm gonna lie and say ‘I'm fine, boss. All good.’” You continued. 

At least you were being straightforward about it being a lie. 

Dick wished that he had something genuinely helpful to say, but his throat stalled with dryness and his chest ached at seeing you so distraught. It really wasn’t something that he was used to. 

“I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world.” You let out another dry, sarcastic laugh. 

Then, there was a moment of silence - a beat of realization as your chin quivered and more thick tears rimmed your eyes. 

“It's - it's only the end of the world.” You spoke these words heavier, dropping any false laughter in your tone - it truly hit you. Any further jokes you could make left you. 

Dick choked on his own tears when he heard the aborted sob in your chest - something that came out as a whimper when you reached up to clutch at your heart. 

You were genuinely terrified. Terrified that the Titans wouldn’t be able to find a solution in time. Terrified that everyone was going to die. Not just the people you loved, but - everyone. 

“Hey, come on.” Dick said, his leader instincts, his natural caring for you kicking in. “We've been through worse.” 

Working with the Titans, you had been through a lot. Drug busts, battling against costumed psychopaths, the loss of a dear friend to a dangerous assassin. But you weren’t sure that you had been through something worse than this. Everything the Titans had been through had never affected the world on such a large scale. 

“Have we?” You argued gently. 

Perhaps not. Maybe the only time the team had been in such dire straits was the first time Trigon attempted to come to earth. But that had been when Rachel had been armed with her powers and had been prepared to take him down. But Dick wasn't going to voice those thoughts to you. 

You waited in agony for him to say something, and your tears finally breached - rolling down your face in hot tracks, laying marks of the true fear you were feeling, laying it all bare for the first time. Dick knew that his own eyes reflected that same glossy hurt now, if only for the pain he felt in seeing you cry - something that was so incredibly rare over the time he had known you. 

Dick reached out and gently cupped the side of your cheek, running his thumb across your face and wiping some of those tears away. You were so startled by the tenderness of the touch that you couldn't help but to let out a whimper, and you felt frozen as Dick spoke his next words. 

“It's gonna be okay.” He told you, trying his hardest to sound confident in the words. “We're gonna get through this. I know we will.” 

This time, unlike many before, you couldn't be inspired by his confidence. 

“Have you - have you considered what happens if we don't?” Your voice barely reached above a whisper, barely daring to tempt fate with this possibility. 

Honestly, Dick had not. In these kinds of situations, he didn't allow himself to focus too much on the negative. As the team leader, he did have to take all the possibilities into account. It was something he had to do in order to keep everyone safe. But if he focused too much on death and darkness, much like Bruce did, then he knew that paranoia would overtake him and his team would get caught in the crossfire. 

He had to spend his time coming up with solutions to fix the problem rather than spending his time caught up in knots, worrying about what would happen if he fumbled and didn't actually fix things after all. 

The literal end of the world? It just wasn't a possibility in this mind. 

But right now, standing there, staring into your big eyes, glossed over with fear as you looked to him for answers - there was only one thing that Dick could think of. 

And it was so incredibly selfish. It didn’t have anything to do with the team or being a good leader. It didn’t have anything to do with helping the others. 

Dick brushed his thumb over your cheek again, an incredibly tentative touch that had your skin tingling. You let out a small sigh, and the world froze around you when he leaned in - slowly, moving toward you at a pace that more than gave you time to escape if you wanted to. But you found that you didn’t want to. You found his closeness to be an incredible comfort in these moments of mental chaos. 

And so, he gently planted his lips on yours. 

It should have come as a shock - your childhood best friend kissing you. But in that moment, it just felt right. All you could do was shut your eyes and lean into the kiss, reaching up to grip his wrist, keeping him close to you as you leaned into his smothering heat. His lips were surprisingly soft, and he tasted like coffee - using caffeine to keep himself awake for days, trying to marathon a solution against the impending doom. 

His kiss was firm but so giving - a touch that easily swallowed you up with heat from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. It was a sensation that pushed out the rest of the world, smothered any worries about who or what might bring an end to it. 

It was the most tender, but most wonderfully passionate kiss that you had ever experienced in your life. 

When he pulled away, you sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling incomplete without his lips on yours. The shock then began to set in, like pulling the knife from a stab wound and feeling the blood rush out of you freely. It created a dizzying mixture with the heat that was now boiling under your skin. 

Why? Your brain screamed out as you stared at him. When? How long had he wanted to kiss you? How long had you been missing out on Dick Grayson? 

Dick could see all those questions bubbling beneath your surface as the fear in your eyes shifted to confusion, and he finally decided to speak. 

“I'm sorry.” He said quietly. “But if the world does end, I couldn't die without knowing what kissing you is like.” 

“Dick-” You sighed, about to go on a long rant about how he could have done that years ago, about how he should have - and the end of the world was a shitty excuse. 

But you abruptly cut off your own words when more footsteps squeaked down the hall - the rubber soles of sneakers scuffing against the polished floor. 

Dick jumped away from you as though he had been burned, clearly wanting to keep the interaction private. Both of you tuned to see Gar approaching. 

“Dick?” He posed. Gar had a look of confusion, clearly wondering if he should question what was going on between the two of you but swallowing it. 

“Yeah?” Dick replied. 

“Um - Conner's missing.” He announced this in a nervous, meek tone, not wanting to bring the team leader any more bad news. 

“What?” Dick gaped. 

There was no time to further discuss what Dick had said to you. With the end of the world in your hands, it easily fell to the back of your mind. 

...

If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

[yukirayu]

These I've also shared on Twitter, but I thought I'd share them here before someone tries any sort of libel.

You know what's funny about this whole discourse about the Slow Damage patch ? The whole discourse reminds me of game mods, in a way.

Game mods are made by fans, for free no less, for you to download, and only if you wanted, to help improve your experience with a game.

Whether it's improving the aesthetic (character or background design) or tweaking some of the gameplay elements itself. Or adding new elements, or even changing things purely for shits and giggles.

That way, mods are akin to patches. More often than not, mods are made because the base game had flaws in their design (technical or otherwise) that the mod intended to fix or improve.

But these mods are optional. And naturally, most mods are going to use preexisting assets from either the game they're modding or from another game, assets that they'll either refine or combine with other assets to make something better.

While some mods earn a raised brow, if the mod isn't to one's liking, most generally just ignore it.

Except in this specific instance, some don't like the mod that is the patch and feel that it doesn't sit right with them for whatever reason, believing that its existence would be "spitting" on the original game or because it no longer sounds as snarky as they themselves would like to read it as.

But instead of ignoring the patch, which they were explicitly advised to do if they take offense to it, they decide to make their dislike everyone else's problem, and by poisoning the well, no less.

And one quick way to ensure that is to accuse the patch of bigotry towards the LGBT community.

I'm already aware that this same accusation is spreading like wildfire, both in Reddit and especially in Twitter, and in some Discord spaces, most likely.

But did anyone, and this includes the accusers, even play at least 40% of the patched version, and intensively at that, before making that claim?

Oh, I'm all too aware that bigotry is a real, serious and widespread issue.

But in most online circles nowadays, accusing something of bigotry right off the gate is also one surefire method of turning people off of it before they can even check it out for themselves.

I mean, what better way of publicly dragging something you don't like through the mud than to spread accusations/misassumptions that are quick for others to believe before anyone can even try and personally fact-check anything?

Especially in a place like the internet itself.

The note stating the avoidance of using a specific pronoun for some characters to not assume their identity could've been phrased better, yes, and the patch team did clarify their stance on the matter. Alas, anything can still easily be misinterpreted and used as flame bait.

But what's odd is that the people who first touted this claim (either here or in other platforms) have one thing in common: they never checked out the patch (let alone played through one certain route in full) to personally confirm if that really is the case.

Taking all this into consideration, I think that no matter how the patch was presented, it'd get backlash.

Even long before any of us knew this patch was even going to be a thing, even giving constructive criticism about the localization and any mistakes/goofs it made already drew ire, and it's those same people who took offense that are spreading the hate about this patch.

It all really boils down to the matter of the patch even existing, since - as some detractors point out - it's what they call to be a disrespectful spit to the face, even without factoring the false accusations of transphobia and plagiarism.

Let's say they used the JP game files instead and have the patch work with that version. They'd get decried for copyright infringement and they risk a C&D order.

Use the EN files? We already get the claims that they barely did anything to the text, among other things. Why?

Because they didn't adjust every single syntax and change every single word in every single sentence… when English isn't exactly the most versatile language and there's only ways you can translate something, especially in the simpler sentences like "Who are you?".

Using a thesaurus on everything would make it sound weird. Heck, the patch being more verbose and detailed and impersonal (which is what's to be expected when it's third person and in a visual novel, no less) already got it accused of being no more than a fancy MTL.

And it doesn't help that many already assume that the statement that MTL can be a helpful tool is also the same as "MTL being the superior translator of all time", and people will find anything and I mean anything to hate on something and discredit it.

And as for the preferring 1st person over 3rd person and vice versa? It's a matter of preference, yes, and that can't be helped.

But let's get one fact out in the open: Out of N+C's 5 main VNs, only one is told in first person POV in the JP/original version, and that's DMMD.

The other game that used 1st person narration is Slow Damage's spinoff game, Clean Dishes, but not the main/parent game itself.

And even years before they got licensed, the fan patches followed the intended narration viewpoint of the first 4 VNs. Third person for Togainu no Chi, Lamento, and Sweet Pool, and first person for DMMD.

Their respective localized versions (except Lamento), also followed the intended narration viewpoint, and nobody complained because that was all they knew.

But because Slow Damage's localization took the creative liberty of changing the narration from third to first person, with people exposed to it, it's not really surprising some have gotten accustomed enough to end up preferring it.

Even when another version that retells the game in original narration comes up, for the past two years, the localization has been what they knew, and that is what many usually then decide to stick to.

In the scenario where the localization - even if it would still be a mess - never changed the narration, would people still say "Oh but they should've changed it to 1st person since it would've enhanced the story"?

It's telling that it never happened with Togainu no Chi, Sweet Pool and DMMD, no?

And before anyone tells me that I just hate localizations overall, you don't hear me complaining about the official translation of any of the BLVNs that Mangagamer licensed, do you? I also have plenty of gripes with DMMD's fan translation over what it did to Mink.