#And obviously Hunter didn’t have any friends either

[ask-the-colony-tree-siblings]

Hey, Gourmand!

How do you feel about your son (Survivor) being friends with Hunter?

Gourmand: I see no harm in it! Hunter seemed like he needed a friend, and if I’m being honest, Survivor did too.

[theeoriginals]

Idea: Reader is part of the scooby gang (an adult doing them a favour or something - pls not a teenager it makes me cringe) and Klaus catches her staring (because obviously) and is cocky and flirty and likes riling her up

i just like you | klaus mikaelson

author's note; this was so fun omfg i love him sm

warnings: honestly sort of grumpyxsunshine but somehow klaus is the sunshine here ? teasing, taunting, klaus is a flirty menace, reader is super in denial, implied that reader is a vampire hunter but it's not really important, also this exists in some sort of strange canon universe so don't read into it too much, fluff, making out, a steamy-ish scene at the end, but it doesn't get too graphic so don't worry! no use of y/n!

She doesn’t like owing people favors. She doesn’t like when other people owe her favors, either, but people seem to think that trading things off is the best way to live, and she’s hardly got the power to change something so universally accepted. 

She doesn’t like owing people favors, but in this case, it’s not something she can renegotiate. Alaric saved her life, and the least she could do is help him out with something. 

Her view on that changes very quickly when he looks at her and tells her they want her to make a deal with the devil. In fact, she’d rather Alaric had just let her die than ask her to do anything with or for Klaus Mikaelson. 

“I would quite literally rather die than do that, Ric,” She deadpans, givin him a completely unamused look that makes him grimace. 

“No, I know, I know,” He holds his hands up, a desperation to his pleading tone. “It’s a lot to ask of you, but no one else can deal with him like you do. They’d end up dead, or something,” 

“Why do you think I can deal with him any differently than you, or Damon, or something? I hate him just as much!” 

“Oh, well, that’s just not very nice of you, darling,” The man in question drawls, smirk audible in his voice as they look over to where he’s sitting on Alaric’s couch, looking like he practically lives there. She supposes he technically did, for a minute. “Hate is such a strong word.” 

She gives him a saccharine smile, tilting her head. “I’m so sorry, Klaus, did I hurt your feelings? I didn’t know that evil hybrids who kill anyone who breathes wrong could have feelings.” 

Klaus’s smirk only widens at her visible ire, and he props his chin up on his hand as he looks at her. “I have every feeling for you, sweetheart,” 

Her eyes momentarily widen to the size of dinner plates, and then she quickly schools her expression back into a flat glare, snapping her gaze away from him as she huffs unhappily. “You want me to deal with that all day, Alaric? By myself? I thought we were friends,” 

“We are friends,” He stresses, shooting Klaus a warning look that the Original dutifully ignores. “That’s why I’m asking you to do this. All you have to do is make the drive up to Whitmore and get the rest of Isobel’s stuff– we need to see if she has any information on the cure, or anything like that.” 

“Doesn’t Bonnie have that professor guy that was telling her a bunch of stuff? Can’t we just go to him?” 

“Damon doesn’t trust that guy,” Alaric says. “And before you ask, no, you can’t make Damon go. He and Klaus will kill each other if they’re in the same vehicle for that long.” 

“He’s right about that,” Klaus says, still happily in his place on the couch. “Damon’s got such a temper these days. Can’t even handle a joke anymore.” 

She scrunches her face up, giving him an incredulous look. “The only jokes you make are about the time you tried to kill Elena,” 

“How would we cope if we couldn’t make jokes about these sorts of things?” 

Her incredulity only deepens and she drags her gaze back to Alaric pointedly, earning an exhausted sigh from the teacher. “Klaus,” He starts, that same desperation still in his voice. “Can we all just play nice? For once we have something to be united about– could you possibly not jeopardize everyone’s lives again?” 

Klaus heaves a sigh, standing from the couch in a swift movement and crossing the short distance to where they stand. “Certainly. I’m nothing if not professional, you know this.” 

“Uh huh,” Alaric deadpans. “Can you be… professional enough to not provoke her into leaving you stranded somewhere, or something?” 

“I’m sure we can work something out,” The hybrid drops his gaze to hers, bright eyes alight with mischief. “So long as she stops pouting.” 

She huffs, dutifully not pouting. Narrowing her eyes, she offers a hand out to him, ignoring the amusement that sparks in his eyes at her formalness. “It’s for the greater good of all of us, right? I’m sure I can suffer through anything for that.” 

Klaus shakes her hand firmly, and she ignores the way it feels like he’s laughing at her. “I’m sure you can.” 

────── 

“I take it all back, I’m going to murder him, and then myself.” 

“Hello to you, too. I take it it’s going well?” Alaric’s voice comes through the speaker of her phone as she walks beside Klaus, ignoring the crowds of college students they’re pushing their way past to head to Isobel’s old office. 

“Oh, it’s going so well, besides the fact that our vehicle just broke down as soon as we got to Whitmore.” 

She can practically hear Alaric’s wince of sympathy through the phone. “Can’t Klaus just compel you another vehicle?” 

“You would think so, but I already tried that, and he said it wouldn’t be very cooperative of him to take advantage of people. He’s apparently all for the teamwork these days,” She shoots him a glare, face twisting into one of disdain when all he does is give her a wide smirk. “Alaric, I cannot be stranded here with him. It was one thing if it was a few hours, but I cannot survive any longer than that.” 

Alaric breathes out her name on an exasperated sigh, and she tries to ignore the slight pin prick of guilt that stabs at her because of it. “Have you called a mechanic or anything?” 

She bites the tip of her tongue roughly. “Yeah. They’re coming to tow it, and they said it’ll be like, tomorrow morning at the earliest before it’s done.” 

“Can you survive the night? For real? Or do you want me to drive up there and get you?” 

She nearly blurts out that she won’t survive, that he needs to come get her as soon as he leaves work, but she stops herself, eyes drifting to Klaus, who seems to be awaiting her answer as well. Sighing tiredly, she shakes her head, even though Alaric can’t see her. “I’ll be fine, I’m just being dramatic. Don’t worry about me, alright? I– Klaus and I will handle this. It’s no big deal, I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive,” She reassures, stopping at the steps that lead to Isobel’s office building. “I’ll text you later tonight after we’ve had some time to go through some of the stuff, okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you,” He sounds infinitely less stressed at her reassurances, and the guilt she’d been feeling dissipates easily. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

She echoes the goodbye and quickly pockets her phone again, immediately turning to Klaus to give him a glare that she can’t even really call a glare because of the complete and utter lack of any real heat behind it. Gesturing widely to the building before them, she sighs. “Let’s get this over with.” 

The office is devoid of any lingering students, and she wonders if it was done on purpose. The only person there besides her and Klaus is the girl at the desk, and she racks her brain for the girl’s name, because Alaric had told her earlier before they left. 

“Hi,” She starts, stepping in front of Klaus slightly as they approach the desk. “Alaric called earlier and said we’d be coming up to get some of Isobel’s research, I think?” 

The girl stands, a small smile on her face as she nods. “Of course. I’m Vanessa, I was Isobel’s intern.” 

Vanessa, she internally scolds herself for not remembering, before giving her name back in return. “And this is Klaus.” 

The Original offered a charming smile, and she saw some degree of recognition flutter in Vanessa’s eyes as her smile grew wider, equally charmed and awed. “Lovely to meet you, Vanessa,” 

“You’re Klaus Mikaelson, aren’t you?” She breathes out, shaking her head in disbelief as she leads them to Isobel’s private office. “Isobel was fascinated  with the story of the Originals, but there wasn’t ever enough information to figure out what was true and what wasn’t.” 

Klaus hums, practically preening under the attention. “Such are the consequences of living as long as I have. I can hardly remember what’s real and what’s not,” 

Vanessa’s face lights up with an idea, and she steps towards Klaus excitedly. “Would you mind if I asked you some questions? It would do our research a lot of good to have something new,” 

“Oh, well–” 

“We have a lot to do,” She quickly cuts in over their voices, offering a sharp smile to Vanessa. “But if we have time later, I’m sure he’d love to give you a tell-all interview.” 

Vanessa’s smile dims slightly but she nods, gesturing for them to go into the open office. “It’s all in there. Let me know if you need my help with anything.” 

“We will definitely do that,” She says, ignoring the twitch in her fingers as pushes Klaus into the office ahead of her. “Thank you so much!” 

She shuts the door firmly behind her and lets out a sharp sigh, her eyes fluttering open where she hadn’t even realized they’d shut. She finds Klaus staring at her, and immediately looks away, ducking past him to head for one of the packed boxes in the office, collecting dust. “What?” 

Klaus makes an amused little hum in the back of his throat. “Oh, nothing,”

“There’s clearly something,” 

“There is, but I don’t think you’d enjoy hearing it from me,” 

She halts her movements, hands falling limp on the file folders sorted neatly inside one box. Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she raises a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m curious as to what Vanessa did to earn your disdain,” He says, shrugging lightly, keeping his voice purposefully aloof. 

She rolls her eyes, returning to pilfering through the box, skimming the labels on the file. “She was distracting you. We came here to do something, and we need to do it. That’s all.” 

He makes that irritating noise again, and she pauses once more, this time turning to face him fully. “What? What is so funny about that? Might I remind you, we need to learn about this cure for you just as much as anyone else.” 

He smirks, picking up a box from the floor and putting it on the table in front of him. “Of course. But only if you admit you were jealous,”

She feels the blood in her veins freeze as she stares at him, and she knows there’s a dawning look of horror growing on her face. “Excuse me?” 

“Just admit that you were jealous of that poor girl in there, and I will do as much research as you want me to. It’s very simple.” 

“Jealous,” She echoes, her voice faint the longer she looks at him. “You think that I was jealous because some college kid was treating you like you were the lead singer in her favorite boy band?” 

“Maybe not her favorite boy band, but certainly her favorite Original,” He corrects, grinning deviously. 

“I wasn’t jealous!” She yells somewhat hysterically, face twisting as her pulse races. “I– I have no reason to be jealous, I would never be jealous, I’m not– I’m not jealous! Just– shut up!” 

She waves a hand in his direction, ignoring the warmth in her chest that stings like embarrassment. “Just– shut up, and– and leave me alone! Do what we came here to do,” 

Klaus holds his hands up in surrender, still smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Whatever you say,” 

────── 

They’ve booked a hotel for the night, despite the fact that she’d sooner sleep on the street than stay in a hotel with Klaus Mikaelson. But he graciously offered to pay for it, and she was determined to pretend like their conversation earlier had never happened and that meant acting like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

It meant letting him order them room service, and sitting quietly while they ate. It meant letting him tease and taunt her like he normally did, and working overtime to give him the normal reactions she would have– a glare here and there, a not-so-nice name everywhere else. 

Except now it felt like it was all wrong. It felt like she was being even more obvious than before. All because he called her out. Because he was right. 

Just out of sheer principle, she couldn’t ever tell him that. The last thing he needed was that particular ego boost, from her of all people. 

Their relationship has always been antagonistic, but Klaus has never been nearly as harsh as she has. And now that she’s spent the last six hours thinking about every single interaction they’ve ever had, she feels somewhat stupid for not even letting herself contemplate the idea that she could one day be jealous over Klaus Mikaelson. 

But even in that same vein, she understands why it never crossed her mind until he pointed it out. It was non-negotiable, having any sort of relationship like that with Klaus. She’d been friends with Alaric since he first met Isobel, she couldn’t just go and sleep with the guy who killed his girlfriend, let alone have feelings for him. 

The thought alone made her stomach swirl with guilt, but she was determined to not let Klaus in on any of her inner turmoil, considering he’d get some insane satisfaction out of the fact that it’s all his fault. 

By the time they make their way to the private bedroom in the ridiculously grand hotel room Klaus had gotten them for the night, it doesn’t really register in her mind that they not only don’t have any sort of pajamas due to the fact that this wasn’t supposed to be an overnight trip, but the only bedroom in the suite has one bed. 

It doesn’t register in her mind until she’s already in bed, resigned to the fact that she’ll be sleeping in her t-shirt and underwear, and Klaus makes his way over to the bed like it’s no big deal. 

“Hey, hey, what the hell are you doing?” 

He raises a brow at her, gesturing to the bed. “Going to bed. We’ve got an early morning ahead of us if you have any chance of making it back to Mystic Falls alive.” 

She rolls her eyes at his taunting recollection of her complaints, and she holds up a hand, keeping the blankets tucked carefully around her hips as she sits up. “Why wouldn’t you get a room with two beds?” 

“Because it’s one night, darling,” He drawls, signature smirk twitching on his lips. “But if you have some particular feeling that would make sharing a bed with me uncomfortable, then I–”

“No!” She cuts him off, feeling like she was just backed into a corner. “No issue. Just– keep your hands to yourself.” 

He winks at her, and she ignores the way it makes her heart race. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” 

She shuffles back down into the bed and turns onto her side away from him, suddenly too conscious of the fact that she doesn’t have any pants on, and that if someone had told her this morning she’d be pantsless, in bed with Klaus Mikaelson, she probably would’ve punched them and then spent the rest of her life dreaming about it. 

It’s only slightly humiliating. 

Once Klaus is settled in the bed, presumably undressed to the same degree she is if the shuffling she’d heard a minute ago was anything to go by, he turns the lamp off, encasing them in darkness. 

After too long, her hip starts to ache the longer she lays on her side, and she knows there’s no chance she’ll fall asleep with it throbbing like it is, so she resigns herself to the fact that she’s going to have to move. 

Careful of her spacial awareness, she turns onto her back, and then onto her other side, unable to stop her eyes from landing on the shadows of Klaus’s profile. 

She lets out a small breath, shakier than normal, and clutches her hand against the pillow beneath her head. 

“You’re staring,” 

She groans quietly. “I am not,” 

“You know, I don’t know if I should be honored or not that you don’t act like this with anyone else.” 

She squeezes the pillow again, brows furrowing on her forehead. Her curiosity piqued, despite her best interests. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re horrifically antagonistic on a good day, and downright murderous on a bad one. But you don’t ever lose your temper with anyone else like you do with me,” He observes, voice unintentionally quiet in the privacy of the darkness. If she didn’t know any better, she’d even say it was laced with fondness. 

Pressing her face into her pillow briefly to try and collect herself, she lets her eyes trace the curve of his nose, and his prominent cupid’s bow, backlit by the moon shining in the window. She wonders what he looks like beneath a full moon. She wonders if his eyes shine that burning yellow-gold color the entire night. 

“You do it on purpose,” She mutters, trying to keep her tone from sounding as childish as it does in her head. “I’m not stupid, Klaus. You like riling me up.” 

She hears more than sees his head turn towards her, but she feels the burn of his eyes on her face like the summer sun. 

“Did you ever consider that I just like when you talk to me?” He asks, sounding entirely more vulnerable than she ever thought he was capable of being. 

Her breath stutters on an exhale, and she knows he can hear the way his words make her entire body trip up. Despite being unable to truly meet his eyes in the dark, she searches for them anyway, seeking out the truth that may lie in them. 

He murmurs her name, soft and sweet between the sheets wrapped around them, and she can’t stop herself from pushing forward into his space, draping herself across his chest as she presses their lips together. 

She’s instantly satisfied to hear the shocked noise that spills from his lips, but it’s the last coherent thought she can form once he mirrors her utter desperation. 

He steals the breath from her lungs, barely letting her gasp between his greedy kisses, his hands pulling her further into him, leaving her practically on top of him. 

His hands slide up the fabric of her shirt, grabbing at the bare skin there, groaning at the feel of her moving beneath his touch. 

“Klaus,” She gasps out, panting at the spit-slick sounds of their lips together in the quiet of the hotel room. “Klaus, I have to–” 

She forcibly pulls herself away from him, unable to even blame him for the way she let herself get so caught up as she catches her breath, looking down from where she’s propped above him. 

They fall silent, matching each other’s frantic but slowing breaths as their spilled-over tension finally seems to simmer out. 

A huff of a laugh comes from beneath her and she frowns slightly, looking at him. “What?” 

His hands clench where they’re still gripping her waist, and she visibly shivers at the rough touch. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” 

She instinctively slaps a hand against his bare shoulder, wondering how she hadn’t noticed he’d taken his shirt off when he got into bed. “You are such a dick,” She shakes her head, but she’s already leaning back in to kiss him again despite herself. 

Klaus is quick to meet her halfway, craning his neck up to kiss her again, and she lets out a sudden yelp as he flips them around, pressing her into the mattress beneath him. “Let me make it up to you,” 

She’s nodding before he even finishes speaking, and she thinks, tells herself, that she can’t be faulted for how quickly she forgives him after that.

[lotanxiety]

Ballsy

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem reader

Summary: Your alter ego does something you always dreamed of but never had the balls to do. Let’s just say it leads to something great😈

Warnings: Shower sex, SMUT, NSFW 18+, slight breading, oral (female receiving), praise

____________________________________________

You grew up a hunter and crossed paths with Sam and Dean ages ago. Since you were around their age, you guys hit it off well and stayed in touch over the years. Soon after the boys had moved into the bunker, you did another hunt with them and mentioned you didn’t have a permanent home either and they graciously offered for you to stay with them! It’s now been 8 months of living with Sam and Dean. For the most part, it’s all great despite your hopeless crush on the eldest brother. You and Sam were best friends, and you and Dean had a weird, complicated friendship. You could never read him. Sometimes he would be flirty with you, giving you hope that something could happen, but then he would bring a girl home from the bar, breaking your heart a little more each time.

For the past two weeks, however, Dean has been extra flirty with you. He enjoyed making you blush and making inappropriate jokes at the worst times to embarrass you. This morning at breakfast, you sat across from Dean. While you both ate bacon, he kept watchful eyes on your every movement and when you’d make eye contact, he would wink at you or raise his eyebrows up and down. It made you giggle. You particularly loved when Dean was in a flirty mood, soaking up any and all attention from him before it would be gone.

You were pacing the floor in your room, thinking about the advice Charlie had given you.

“Just pretend you’re someone else and make a move.” Charlie said earlier in the week.

“I can’t do that, what if he doesn’t feel the same. It would ruin the whole dynamic. I’d have to move out and then go back to crappy motels and eat diner food all the time and-“ you rambled on.

“Y/N, please. Dean has had eyes for you for like… ever. Why else would he flirt with you like that? You can do it, just create an alternate version of yourself. She can have a new name and all the personality traits you want to have.” Charlie said.

“I don’t know, this feels kind of dumb”

“Just do it. Introduce yourself to me as the new you.”

“…um hi my name is-“

“Oh absolutely not, more confidence. Say it like you’re the queen of LARPing” Charlie states.

You clear your throat and try to push away any resistance that you normally would have. Right now you’re not Y/N, you’re Tessa; a smart, sexy, confident chick who goes and gets what she wants. You switch into this alter ego as best as you can and confidently say with some sultry in your voice, “Hi Charlie, I’m Tessa.”

“Much better. You got this, just go for it!”

I can do this. I just have to go for it. No fear. Well lots of fear, but fake it til you make it, right? Walking out of your room, you head for Dean’s bedroom. As you near the door, your heart races. The sound of the shower comes to your attention. “Oh shoot, of course once I muster up the courage to do this, he’s in the shower” you whisper to yourself, rolling your eyes. Then a thought crosses your mind. What would Tessa do? Walk right in there and take what she wants. Am I actually going to do this?

You open the door and enter Dean’s room, heart beating so loudly you were sure it was audible for the whole bunker to hear. You come to the bathroom door and knock so quietly that Dean doesn’t hear you. You take the opportunity to pause and get into character. You knock a second time, this time he hears you.

“Who is it?” Dean calls out behind the sound of water hitting the floor.

“It’s me” you shout back.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Dean asks from behind the door.

“Can I come in?” You ask. Despite wanting to walk in there, you obviously want to ask for consent.

“I- I’m kind of showering” Dean says thrown off by your question.

“I know” You retort back, lacing your voice with undertones.

Dean blinks under the running water, realizing what’s going on. “Come on in, sweetheart” he says. You open the door, trying to not let your fear show on your face, but the second you see his naked body dripping wet under the water, you’re sure your face falters. Without saying a word, you start stripping off your clothes. Dean watches in shock of the sight in front of him. Once your clothes are nothing but a pile in the floor, you stand in front of each other, both breathing kind of heavy but not saying a word.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Dean asks cautiously.

“Making a move” you say more confident that you thought possible with a smirk on your face. You slowly close the gap between the two of you. Deans eyes are dark with lust.

“Are you sure this is something you want?” He says, his voice much deeper than before. You nod your head as you look at him with your doe eyes.

“Words, sweetheart” he urges.

“Yes” you say breathless, now an inch away from him. With that confirmation, he quickly closes the gap between you two. The kiss was needy, but soft however quickly grew hungry for more. Stepping more into the shower, the warm water runs down your back and Dean starts to push you back against the wall, lifting your leg to his hip with his hand.

Breaking apart only for air he says, “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this moment”. He lips make contact with your neck, trailing down to your collarbone as he tentatively paws at your boob. It’s all passion between you. 8 months of sexual tension all being released at once. His kisses move lower, as he starts sucking on one of your nipples, slowly lowering himself to his knees. His mouth follows this southbound patter until he lands on his knees in front of you.

Grabbing your hips with his hands he looks up at you. “God- you are so fucking sexy” he says as he starts to kiss and nibble at your thighs, urging them apart. Your core is aching for any kind of contact. Dean pokes out his tongue between your wet folds, causing you to gasp at the contact. He gives you one last devilish smirk before he laps away at your sex. It throws you off guard, almost causing you to lose balance, but Dean steadies you with his hands never stopping his pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, sucking and biting. It doesn’t take very long before that coil winds up so tight and you release all over his face. He rides out your orgasm and then you pull him up to kiss him again. The kiss is different this time, almost more meaningful but still steamy. You open your mouth, allowing his tongue to graze over yours tasting yourself on him. You reach a hand in between you to palm his hard cock, causing the most pornographic groan from Dean into your mouth. Despite having just came, your core was practically crying for more. Wanting to return the favor for him, you started lowering yourself to your knees, as you still palmed him.

He quickly grabbed your arms. “Not this time, darlin. I want to feel you. Can I do that?” Dean asks.

“Yes please Dean, I need you.” You say standing upright again. Dean lined himself up with you and slowly pushed in, allowing you to adjust. You squeeze your eyes tight as the pain melts into pleasure.

“You can move now” you tell Dean and he does at a gruelingly slow pace. He starts speeding up as he kisses your lips again and rests his forehead against yours. The only sounds are of the water hitting the floor, the contact of your skin, and the heavy breaths and moans coming from the both of you. Dean reaches his hand down in between the two of you putting his thumb against your clit and making small circles. You’re sensitive from your last orgasm so you suck a breath in through your teeth and close your eyes.

“Please look at me, I want to watch you unravel on my cock. You look so beautiful like this” Dean praises. That familiar sensation builds and builds.

“That’s it. Cum for me. You can do it, uh huh. Good girl” Praise repeatedly falls from Deans lips as you orgasm for the second time, so much harder than before. The tightening of your cunt around Deans cock causes him to cum as well, spilling his juices into you. You both stay in that position for a moment, foreheads pressed together, taking deep breaths. Dean slowly pulls out of you and leans in for another kiss.

“We should’ve done that a long time ago” he says and you just chuckled. You two clean up by finishing up the shower together, Dean sweetly cleaning up your sex and washing your hair for you. Once you two get out, you both cuddle up on his bed.

“So, um… what caused you to be so bold?” Dean asked as you nuzzled your head into his shoulder.

“I don’t know, I guess I was just tired of you flirting with me but not making any real moves” You teased.

“Hey, those are my moves” Dean said defensively.

You two chatted some more, then fell asleep in each others arms watching old tv show re-runs.

The End.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Let Your Heart Be Light

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria Era

Warnings: None

Summary: You want to make the holidays something special for Daryl. Throw in a little Christmas magic and it just might mean something more to you too.

*gif is not mine

This run hadn’t been about gathering supplies or intel. This run had been about making a holiday for Judith. The adults understood that just being alive and together were gifts. But little Jude? Smart as she was— and she was smart —hadn’t yet grasped that concept. 

Things had already been gathered for her by everyone else, but Daryl had never really celebrated as a kid. Never gave gifts or received them. Before Alexandria, there was never a reasonable sense of safety that allowed for celebration. This would be a first for the archer. When you asked what he had found or made for the little girl he so obviously adored, he had appeared gutted. Of course, you had offered to go with him and help him find something. 

The sky was thick with purple clouds as you burrowed into Daryl’s back and tilted your face upward just enough to watch the puffs of lavender magic float carelessly across the limitless expanse. The wind was icy but the elements never seemed to bother the hunter. You, on the other hand, were freezing your proverbial balls off. Your heavy jacket, gloves, scarf, and toboggan hat did little against the onslaught. You couldn’t help but wonder how Daryl hadn’t turned into an ice archer. You also weren’t above pondering why the fuck he had insisted on taking the motorcycle!

When the bike rolled to a stop outside a little strip mall, you could hardly wait to jump off. You squealed about your ass being numb and zipped past him and up to the first door. Daryl started to intervene but swiftly shut his mouth when you acted accordingly, tapping the blade of your knife against the window to lure any walkers. 

When none shuffled forward, you gave him a thumbs up. “You start on that side, I’ll go here. Look for coloring books, crayons, stuffed animals. Nothing with small pieces that she could choke on.” You advised, watching him nod blankly. You smiled at his adorable cluelessness and ducked inside, willingly leaving him on his own. Usually you would pester him to stay together but you had your own search to conduct. Judith wasn’t the only one getting a gift this year. 

You did intend to help Daryl as you’d promised, but you had some selfish reasons for coming along as well. You hadn’t heard if anyone else had come up with something for the archer, but you sure as shit would. He was your best friend. Your person. This would be the start of happy memories for the season.

None of you could be sure when Christmas actually was but hell, it didn’t really matter at the end of the world. Decorations had been found here and there, enough to decorate Rick and Michonne’s house. You’d all gather there so it made the most sense. 

The store you had chosen appeared to have once been a pawn shop. Toys were in abundance so you took a moment to grab a babydoll and a stuffed monkey before heading to the display cases. The glass had long ago been broken and weapons all swiped. That wasn’t what you were looking for anyway. You wanted something less—violence oriented. No jewelry either. He wasn’t the type. You would know the perfect gift when you saw it. 

And you did. 

Grabbing it up, you stuffed it and the toys into your rucksack and headed to the next mall space, hoping it held what you needed to go along with the first present. Considering how certain items were treated like gold in those times, you didn’t hold your breath. 

You had to be sneaky or Daryl might catch on, considering the type of store. You watched for him while repeating the process to check for walkers. Met with silence, you ducked inside. Pickings were slim— almost nonexistent—just as you’d expected. You had just allowed yourself to be bummed when you spotted one peeking out from beneath the counter. After a short happy dance, you hid this one in your bag as well.  You grabbed a few newspaper pages to use as wrapping paper and started to open the door when you saw the archer walk by and into the pawn shop you had just vacated. 

Perfect!

Stepping outside, you moved off the walkway and waited for him. He emerged a moment later, looking a little concerned. 

“Thought ya’d still be in there.” He huffed, holding out two coloring books—one of safari animals and the other, Dora the Explorer—and a box of crayons with two missing. 

“Were you worried, mister Dixon?” You smiled sweetly while taking the items to place in your bag. “Hey!” You dissolved into giggles when he pulled the front of your toboggan hat down over your face. He was already walking back toward the back by the time you fixed it. “I found a couple of toys too!”

“Got what we came for.” He swung a leg over to straddle the bike and waited for you to climb on. “Let’s head back. Snow’s comin’.” You grumbled and secured your scarf around the majority of your face. “S’the matter? Don’t like snow?”

“I love snow. Just not on a motorcycle.”  Taking your place behind him, you wrapped your arms around his middle and went ahead with burying your face in his back. You felt more than heard his chuckling. 

Without a way to predict the weather, there was no way of knowing that scattered flurries would soon turn into a complete whiteout. Daryl had pushed the bike as far as he could before the snow on the ground became too dense. You hated watching him leave it behind, but if he was distraught, he didn’t show it. 

You both had your packs, yours full of gifts and Daryl’s stuffed with a little food, a canteen, and scant medical supplies. You’d be okay for a day or two until the weather cleared. You had radioed home while the archer brought the fireplace to life. Your signal was choppy but the message was received. 

A little while later, the snow was surging down outside, making it impossible to see even the trees that were littered around the small cabin the two of you had stumbled upon. Literally. You’d almost walked into the side of it with the limited visibility. 

Your coats were hanging up near the fire to dry. You had a small meal of jerky and an apple. Now the two of you sat quietly, the silence not uncomfortable. You were bummed that you couldn’t make it back for Daryl to give Judith the gifts. More disappointed for him, really. This was supposed to give him good memories. 

Your gaze left the winter wonderland on steroids to shift over where the archer was perched by the fire. He was holding the stuffed monkey while he stared into the flames. Standing from the chair by the frosty window, your bare feet hardly made a sound as you padded across the room to sit cross-legged by his knees. 

“Don’t be sad.” You folded your hands on his thigh and rested your chin on them, looking up at him from under your lashes. 

Those ice blue eyes slid over to you and held your gaze before he looked away with a dismissive pfft, tossing the stuffed animal on top of his rucksack. “Ain’t sad.”

The smile you gave him was soft, sympathetic. “Yeah, you are. But you shouldn’t be. She’ll be just as excited tomorrow as she would have been today.” Your head tilted, smile broadening. “Judith doesn’t care what day you give her a gift. You’re Uncle Daryl. She’ll beam at you like you hung the moon no matter what.”

One corner of his mouth ticked upward. He hummed and ruffled your hair, the other side of his lips mirroring its counterpart. Sitting back, you swatted his hands away with an exaggerated series of waves. 

“We can still make this special.” Teeth worried your bottom lip but you fought to push down the anxiety slithering around in your tummy. When the archer tilted his head, waiting for an explanation, you crawled across the floor and reached into your bag. The newspaper wrapping was sloppy with no tape or bows to make it nice but it was the end of the world. You worked with what you had. Shuffling back to him on your knees, you sat back on your heels and held out the black and white papered mess. “Here.”

His face was unreadable, that scowl firmly in place as he stared at your offering. You would have felt dejected had you not seen the myriad of emotions steadily streaming through those pretty blue eyes. After what felt like hours, Daryl cleared his throat and reached for the wadded mess. 

“Ya didn’t—uh—ya didn’t hafta do nothin’ like this.” It was easy to discern the slight tremor in his hands. 

“Yeah, I did. I wanted to.” You wiggled back and forth, both eager and nervous for him to unwrap it. When he just held it, you stilled. “What’s wrong?”

“I, uh—” The archer carefully lowered the gift to his lap but kept his hands around it, his thumb rubbed back and forth across the newspaper. “Never really had stuff like this growin’ up—presents an’ shit.”

Rubbing your lips together, you placed a hand on his knee, just beside the gift. He didn’t look away from it. “Just open it when you’re ready. I’m in no hurry.” Keeping your hand where it was, you maneuvered into your previous position: cross-legged with your chin on the very edge of his leg. 

He was committing the moment to memory. You could tell by the way he studied the object, tilting it back and forth just so. But this is what you wanted; to break through the past he had suffered with thoughts of a future full of new memories to make. And to share. 

He cleared his throat again. It was then that you noticed the shine of moisture holding steady on his waterline. “I—got ya, uh—I got ya somethin’ too.” He balanced the gift on his lap with one hand and dug around in his pocket before finally pulling out a small, blue drawstring bag. So much hesitance; he started to hand it over before pulling it back. He did that three more times before he allowed you to take it. 

Now, your eyes began to leak. “Oh, Daryl.” You pulled the little bag toward you and pressed it against your chest. Whatever was concealed inside was hard and twisted but you didn’t venture to guess. You wanted complete surprise. 

His eyes flitted between your gift and his. Still, he made no move to open his own. The present you’d given him was quite a bit larger. Maybe he was worried that that somehow bothered you. When he finally looked up at you, your heart clenched. He was adorably lost. 

“Open it?” You suggested gently, lowering your hands to your lap with the small bag visible in your cupped palms. He was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip for several seconds before he slowly began to unfold the paper. You watched with bated breath as the items were revealed, studying his demeanor as discreetly as possible. If he didn’t like it, you wanted to know for next year. 

Next year. A bittersweet thought. How many of you would even still be there to see it? You minutely shook away the distressing notion and just in time, too. 

The corners of his mouth slowly lifted into the smallest yet most genuine smile you’d ever seen him wear. A calloused finger traced over the image of a motorcycle on the shiny Zippo. There was a carton of cigarettes and a small container of lighter fluid as well but the lighter had his complete attention. 

“Now look, mister. I don’t condone your habit but I figure we all need our guilty pleasures now more than—”

“Thank you.” So soft that you barely heard it. 

You melted in an instant into a gentle smile that he didn’t see, hiding behind a fringe of dark hair. “You’re welcome.” You waited him out. He was having a hard time with the entire concept and you may have heard a quiet sniffle but no, you didn’t. 

“Ya gonna,” he cleared his throat and sniffed, “ya gonna open yours?” You looked down at the bag, seeing him wipe his face on the back of his hand from the corner of your eye. You’d never tell him, though. You’d let him keep that one. 

You were careful with your expression, keeping the excited gleam in your eye as you pulled the top of the bag open. It could be an acorn and you’d adore it because it was Daryl who went through the trouble of finding such a pretty little bag for it. Just for you. 

You dipped two fingers inside, curling them around cold metal, prodding your curiosity. What you began to pull out was a thin, braided chain. It was still a shiny silver. You weren’t even sure what it was made from and it didn’t matter. It would remain around your neck even if your skin turned green. Still, once the entire thing was revealed, it wasn’t the chain that held your focus. 

Your inquisitive gaze lifted to find his cheeks a shade of pink and one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“S’a—well, s’a hex nut.” Your head tilted. “From my bike.”

You stared at him in complete awe, knowing that when he finally looked at you, he was going to panic but you’d settle him once you worked through your own emotions. You carefully placed the chain over the edge of your hand so the nut laid in your palm. It was small with small knicks and dark areas, indicating use. You were so enthralled with it that you didn’t feel the tear escaping down your cheek. 

“Know s’stupid but—” 

His arms shot out to the side when you collided with him, your arms tight around his shoulders and face against his neck. Once the initial surprise had worn off, he wrapped one arm around you and then the other, his cheek against the top of your head. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. “This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.” When he huffed out a laugh, you sat back and wiped at your face with the tips of your fingers, the necklace he’d made for you still dangling from your hand. “Don’t say a word. I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass. It’s really the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever been given.” Your hand traveled out to rest against his cheek. “And I love it. Will you put it on me?” 

“Um, okay.” 

You beamed at him and held out the chain, spinning around and gathering your hair out of the way. Daryl was hesitant, you could just picture him trying to work through how to get it around your neck without invading your space. You knew it was impossible but you’d let him figure that out on his own. 

Finally you felt him reach over your right shoulder, then your left, to part the two ends and pull them back to fasten against the back of your neck. Your breath hitched when his fingertips lingered against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. 

“There ya go.” 

Your skin felt colder when he pulled away but you didn’t linger on it. You turned to face him, holding the piece out so you could look down at it with a brilliant smile. 

“Thank you.” You said again, twisting the gift back and forth. 

“You’re welcome.” He mumbled. 

Shimmying closer, you laid your head against his leg and looked at the fire, fingertips still brushing against the cool metal hanging from your neck. Above you, he was flipping the lid of the Zippo open and closing it repeatedly, as if it was the first one he’d ever seen. You were admittedly surprised he hadn’t already lit up at least three cigarettes.

“You did replace the nut you took from the bike, right?” You erupted into giggles when he bounced his leg and jostled your head.

It was almost comical to you that Daryl was this tough badass but so shy when it came to even someone as close as you were to him. It was incredibly endearing. Tilting your head back, you smiled up at him. He responded by placing his hand over the entirety of your face, his expression remaining neutral. You still saw the twinkle in his eye when you freed yourself. 

Then your smile disappeared, replaced with a sudden look of bewilderment. The archer noticed immediately, brow drawing in concern. 

“What?”

You weren’t looking at him though. You were looking past him, at the ceiling. Slowly you sat up straight, tilting your head while holding your gaze steady. Daryl finally followed your line of sight to the area above your heads. 

There, hanging from the wooden rafters, was a branch of what appeared to be fresh mistletoe. A red bow was tied prettily around the stem. 

“Is that—” You began. 

“—mistletoe.” Daryl finished. 

Both your heads lowered, your eyes meeting. You could tell from the way he looked at you that he wasn’t ignorant of the tradition. Your own cheeks had grown warm just as you watched the subtle flush settle over his. 

You should have been questioning the presence of the plant. How it got there. Why it looked new in an otherwise desolate, dusty cabin. 

But those inquiries paled in comparison to the way Daryl’s eyes flitted down to your lips and back up. 

“Be a shame to go against tradition.” You reasoned. 

“You’re the expert.” He gave a single-shouldered shrug. 

With a soft breath past your lips, you sat up on your knees, inching a little closer. Daryl moved toward the edge of the chair, leaning down slightly. You were so close that you could feel his breath against your lips.

“Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

A beat. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

When your lips met, nothing else mattered. 

Not the snow that now fell in gentle flurries. 

Not the motorcycle that now leaned against the wall just outside. 

And certainly not the bare rafters above your heads where nothing was hanging.  

[dayz-ina-daze]

Y’know… I feel like Sol was introduced an arc late

I think he would have fit so much better in The New Prophecy instead of The Power of Three… Maybe that’s just me, though, because I haven’t seen a whole lot of people discussing this idea, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I wanted to share what I’ve come up with so far

The New Prophecy is, obviously, about the Clans losing their homes and the chosen six setting out into unknown territory to find somewhere new for them to settle. It’s been a while since I’ve read TNP, but I think I remember enough to have some interesting points to bring up…

So buckle up and bear with me y’all. It’s Spotty Speaks time once again

Everything up to the chosen Clan cats finding Midnight can stay the same. The same journeying and angst and coming together as friends, etc. But, instead of just finding a badger at the sun-drown place, they also find a cat with her: her page, Sol.

For the most part, I think that Sol’s backstory should stay the same, sans some tweaks in the later portion. He was born a loner to his mother, Cinders, who separated he and his littermates to live as kittypets when she could no longer adequately care for them. He adopted the name Harry from his housefolk, but always felt the restless itch to do more and be more that prompted him beyond his garden often despite his lackluster skills. This urge would drive him into the paws of the visiting Firestar and Sandstorm, which is where a major portion of Sol’s backstory changes: He is now one of SkyClan’s founders. (I think that Harrypelt would be a funny name for him lol; Firestar might have mistaken his name for “Hairy”, so his prefix doesn’t get altered too much, or maybe something like “Fluffypelt” or something similar, I don’t know lol)

This works with the rough timeline between Firestar’s Quest and TNP, as well!

But just as he wasn’t satisfied with kittypet life, the rigid structuring of Clan life didn’t scratch Sol’s itch either. He wasn’t a grand hunter or even a half-decent fighter, he was someone who thirsted for knowledge and invention, but his Clanmates had been so firmly rooted in Firestar’s ideals of tradition that they stunted all of his attempts to grow and experiment that eventually he grew embittered, became sick of it, and just… left. Ultimately, he would stumble upon Midnight, an elderly badger who was both a polyglot and a soothsayer who was searching for other animals to share her wisdom with, to pass on and entrust all of her knowledge to someone so that she could retire and live the rest of her days in peace. This intrigued Harry enough for him to want to learn from her, and to honor his transformation into becoming her page, Midnight renames him “Sol”; she names all of her pages after celestial concepts, as she herself once was renamed.

When the Clan cats roll by Midnight, Sol is with her. There’s an obvious tension between him and the Clan cats due to his distaste for them, but he follows his mentor’s example of hospitality while the Clan cats rest as best as he can. I imagine he’s a little older than Crowpaw, but a bit younger than Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, so he’s more comfortable with the younger cats of the group. Squirrelpaw especially intrigues him; he distantly recognizes Firestar in her attitude and coat, but not enough to put his finger on it just yet.

What would be personally most intriguing to me: Midnight instructs Sol to be the Clan cats’ guide through the mountains, as she predicts there is what they are seeking on the other side. When Sol protests, Midnight states that their duty is not only as keepers of knowledge, but also as guides to any who are lost; the Clan cats will need to know when to stop their travels, anyway, so Sol will be able to help with that. Sol eventually agrees, but he still grumbles about it. So Sol is now accompanying the traveling cats; they encounter the Tribe, Feathertail is killed, they find the lake. Sol follows the Clan cats back to the forest, where he seems especially intrigued by the rattled state they’re all in. He’s the primary guide to the Clan cats as they return to the lake, but he’s especially chatty with Blackstar and the ShadowClan cats, before Hawkfrost catches his attention and the two begin to talk as well. Leafpaw is also intrigued by Sol, and Sol with her; Sol is especially talkative with the medicine cats. Mothwing gets bad vibes from him, but she can’t explain it.

The Clans come to the lake, Tallstar dies but appoints Onewhisker as his successor before he does so. Sol still lingers amongst the ShadowClan cats, but as he belongs to no Clan, he just kind of slips between all the Clans and chats with everyone, namely Hawkfrost and Leafpaw, though their conversations are very different.

The Clans settle into new spots around the lake, but Sol still disregards all of the early boundaries set. This unsettles most of the Clan cats, but many are willing to overlook it on account of how Sol led them all to their new home; he’s an honored guest of the Clans, and is under ShadowClan and Blackstar’s direct protection on account of how scarily close the two had grown over the course of the journey. Blackstar’s faith had been shaken due to several losses during the journey, as well as his general fear that their ancestors had not followed them to their new home, which Sol wholeheartedly took advantage of to essentially use Blackstar as a puppet figurehead for his own desires, masquerading as someone who could see the future and soothe his troubles without the need of “some silly dead cats”.

Sol barely speaks to the traveling cats anymore, and all of the traveling cats get the sense that something in Sol’s demeanor and goals has shifted.

Later, Mudclaw announces his rebellion. Unbeknownst to most of the Clan cats, Hawkfrost and Sol are some of his direct supporters, Sol especially, so ShadowClan is politically on Mudclaw’s side. Mudclaw orchestrates a grand battle with the help of Hawkfrost and Sol to kill Onewhisker, as most of WindClan is on his side due to their respect for Tallstar’s dying wish; I imagine they host their meetings at the Moonpool, which Leafpool discovered with Sol at her side. He’s very ingrained in several huge Clan events now.

Off to the side, Brambleclaw is appointed ThunderClan’s deputy.

Days before the battle is scheduled to strike, Sol and Leafpool run away from the Clans together to be free — though it’s primarily due to Sol’s cowardice. He doesn’t want to be caught up in the battle, but he’s grown fond of the medicine cat and doesn’t want to see her fall. The rebellion strikes just as Midnight finds Sol and Leafpool; she instructs Leafpool to return to the Clans, and for Sol- Harry, to leave them. He’s caused more than enough damage to the already-fragile Clans. When Leafpool asks what Sol means, he refuses to answer, so Midnight explains that Sol has been deeply ingrained in the beginnings of a coup that would forever change the flow of the Clan’s fate should three toms rise to power in the same breath, with a last that has already been broken to Sol’s will. Sol bristles and calls his mentor crazy, but Leafpool trusts Midnight; she’s seen all the evidence herself, after all, and she’s able to connect the dots fairly quickly.

Leafpool returns to the Clans. Sol does not; he stays at Midnight’s side. Sol’s fate is unknown at the end of The New Prophecy, but his intention was always to undo the rigid Clan structure and make room for change and growth — and, if that couldn’t be done, then he’d just destroy the Clans as a whole. But his version of growth was covered in thorns, and the cats he used were blind to his manipulation.

In the aftermath…

Mudclaw is killed despite his support.

Hawkfrost is killed by Brambleclaw after he attempted to coax his half-brother into murdering Firestar so they could claim leadership together, as Leopardstar was weakened by fighting on behalf of Mudclaw at Hawkfrost’s suggestion.

Blackstar, shaken, steps down upon hearing of Sol’s treachery and how he had fled; he retires and becomes Blackfoot again. Russetstar steps up.

Brambleclaw might also step down, feeling horrified at how he was tempted to finish the job Hawkfrost had started and claim leadership for his own. I’m not sure who would replace him, though - maybe Sandstorm?

Leafpool discovers that she is pregnant.

And Sol is still thought to lurk in the wilds, with many Clan cats paranoid that the unusual, cunning tortoiseshell tom still studies the Clans, watching them from the shadows until he feels he can return again to finish what he had started… And in the meantime, the Clans vow to strengthen themselves to never again allow an outsider to shake them so badly that they nearly destroyed one another.

[cheapsugar]

ONE SHOT 02. vil x idia title: thunderstorm contains: hurt comfort, fluff-ish, aged up (this is pg, don't worry) summary: idia shows up at vil's door for the first time in seven years. note: the thing about me is that i love a little "i know i haven't seen you in years but i miss you" moment! please enjoy! i actually had this like 1/4th written for a year but didn't know how i wanted it to end. and then, suddenly, it came to me! she/he vil and he/they idia as usual, i am betaless so sorry if i totally missed any oopsies in the editing process!

Vil Schoenheit was never much of a dater. And tonight continued to prove that fact.

It had been fine, all things considering. It was normal enough. Dinner with a coworker who she had been enjoying spending time with. They had gone to a restaurant that the coworker had heard of. It was nice, albeit attempting too hard to be fancy. 

Regardless, she had honored it by wearing a neat white jumpsuit with golden accessories. He had done his hair to the side, falling over his shoulders—the length of it now hitting past them.

Sometimes he still wasn't used to it. She had started growing it out sometime after her fourth year at NRC. A...much needed change after events he didn't care to remember. Even if it had happened in, what feels like, long ago now. Vil was now 26... and yet the pain of back then still felt fresh sometimes...

'Don't think about that now.' He thinks to herself.

What had he been reflecting on again...? Ah, right.

The date had gone fine. And, she would even go as far as to say she had fun. But, that's pretty much all she had. There wasn't a spark, there wasn't that romantic pull. She hadn't even invited him inside when he had dropped her off. By the time they had returned to their car to leave, Vil had already slipped off her heels and placed them at the side of the front door to properly put them away later.

He decided right then and there that he wasn't going to ask for a second date. That, once again, it felt like things were destined for more platonic intentions. And, now-a-days, Vil isn't quite sure if it was the people he was dating or because of...well...himself.

And as she sits on the couch in her living room, a soft lamp illuminating the space around her as the soft sound of rain on the window pattered away—Vil recounted the date to Rook via text message. Who, as always, sensationalized Vil being wrapped in 'cupid's quest'. A statement that wasn't false but wasn't particularly true either. The truth of the matter is that Vil hadn’t really been looking for a relationship for…a while now. Every date has been initiated by someone else. 

‘I’m married to my career.’ A common statement uttered out of his mouth quite often. In conversations, in interviews… She’s basically made herself the poster child for all who were overworked. A fact she’d like to think didn’t actually apply to her but, the last several years of packed scheduling between photoshoots, auditions and acting gigs proved otherwise. Working had truly been all he knew. Much to the dismay of, not only his friends, but of her father as well. 

Every other phone call consisted of his father telling him on and on about how he should give himself a break. How there’s a life to live and that she needs to go out there and live it. To which she’d remind him that a lot of her roles lead her all over Twisted Wonderland. So, there was a lot of ‘life’ she was seeing.

Rook Hunt: He is right, though, mon cher.

Vil Schoenheit: I do not need a lecture from you as well, Rook.

Rook Hunt: Lecture you? I would never dream of it. 

Vil couldn’t help the breath of a laugh, he can read the sarcasm seeping from the hunter’s words from miles away. He may not do it traditionally, but Rook was not above letting Vil know when he thinks she ought to do things differently.

Rook Hunt: Will you not see this man again, then?

Vil Schoenheit: No. Not for a second date, at least. We’d obviously still have to see each other for work.

Vil Schoenheit: He was nice. But…

Rook Hunt: He did not stir your heart?

Vil Schoenheit: Not at all.

Rook Hunt: Beauté! Your heart continues to be difficult to win over. How long has it been now since your last relationship?

Vil Schoenheit: We do not need to count the days! 

Or the years…

Vil Schoenheit: In fact, don’t you have other things you should be attending to? A certain lazy prince?

Rook Hunt: Roi des Lions? I am simply passing the time… he seems to be finding a hiding place for me~

Rook Hunt: Any moment now our game will begin.

Vil Schoenheit: Ah. You two are…truly something else.

Vil Schoenheit: I’ll leave you to it then. Go have your fun. Goodnight.

Vil places his phone down, letting out a sigh before lifting herself off the couch. Tomorrow was a day off but she still had her routine. If she wanted to be rested enough for her 5 AM jog, then she’d need to start her nightly skin care now—

The soft knock on the door would’ve gone entirely unnoticed if it weren’t so silent. And Vil would’ve thought it was a trick of the mind, until a louder knock follows.

Who was that at this hour? And during this rain too?

She’s frozen for a moment. Vil had been in a horror movie once and, as ridiculous of a thought it was, he knew how those things started. Exactly like this, during a vulnerable night in one of her best jumpsuits. Vil should ignore it right? Where was her Magipen…?

Vil moves carefully, stepping closer to the door. There wasn’t another knock but she thinks she hears…mumbling?

“This was stupid…Probably not here…Creepy…” Creepy?! Who in the Seven was out there?! Vil shouldn’t check. But…he ought to get a look, right? For the authorities, of course! In case he had to report a potential stalker!

She carefully walks over to her door, moving the cover of the peephole and taking a look to see.

Bright flaming blue hair. 

“Don’t give up yet, Niichan!” A voice says through some sort of communication device. “Knock again!”

“I-I can’t, Ortho! I should just go home…” 

“No!” 

Vil’s heart pounds in his chest. On the other side of this door was a person Vil has not seen in seven years. Not since the day they decided to break his heart. The day he declared that his business with S.T.YX. and Vil’s own responsibilities were just…too much for their relationship to handle. 

Vil’s last relationship. And her last love.

‘I can’t tie you to this life, Vil! I hold you back—’

“Ortho, I’m leaving!” Idia says. 

Vil’s body moves before she realizes it. Unlocking the door and basically throwing it open. The breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, comes out all at once as Idia yelps. 

Blue flames are lively around them as Vil looks on with wide eyes. The silence between both of them gives away the unfortunate truth that neither of them knew what to say. Though, in this silence, Vil is able to see the changes seven years has done to him.

Idia’s hair is shorter. It’s held back in a ponytail and it just barely reaches the middle of their back. The bangs are relatively unchanged, but Vil can see an undercut. The hairdo exposes the piercings on Idia’s ears. A style Vil could only describe as punk. 

A sort of style she had seen in very small bursts in Idia’s closet during their school days, hidden away from the world. What had pushed him over the edge to finally do it? 

On his face sat sleek glasses, the sort of frame that were thin and nearly made the illusion of no glasses at all. The dark metal of the glasses’ temples and bridge being the sole giveaways. On their right nostril sat a single round silver nose stud. 

Despite those changes, the clothing style was very distinctively Idia. Though things felt more…polished. The hoodie was not swallowing them, the pants weren’t baggy at all and…was that a belt?! Time has changed Idia Shroud.

Appearances, at least. The way they looked entirely terrified as they gripped onto their umbrella, as if hoping that the world would swallow him whole, was entirely classic Idia. 

“Niichan?” Ortho’s voice comes from the watch on Idia’s wrist. “Are you still there?”

“I-I’ll call you back…” They answer before cutting the connection. 

The silence, unfortunately, is deafening. But, this time, Vil can not handle it.

“What are you doing here?” She asks. Which somehow managed to make Idia jump. And it’s entirely unfair the way it managed to endear him a little—but it’s only so long until Vil’s shock will melt away. And that pain and anger will settle. 

Idia’s still got a few more seconds. 

“I…” He starts, eyes looking around as if they’re searching for the answer. Oh, those seconds are ticking…! “...I wanted t-to…to see you.”

Vil blinks. And it becomes very clear to the other that that wasn’t the answer she wanted.

“I…” He gulps. “I…missed…” Another swallow. “I missed you…!” They push out their answer. And…there goes those seconds.

Vil’s face twists in confusion, mouth slightly agape. Idia was here because they…missed her? Missed her? The hand on the door grips tighter in bewildered annoyance.

“You showed up to my house at 11 PM out of the blue after seven years because you missed me?” Ah, the annoyance in his tone was rising by the second. “What?! How—How did you figure out where I lived?! How in the Seven—!” 

“—Ortho found it!” Idia rushes to answer. And then, as Vil looks prepared to give them more of a mouthful, they continue to speak. “I—I didn’t t—tell him to do that! He did it on his own! I swear!”

That very well answers the how, but it does very little to answer the why. And Vil is about to tell them that but he’s stopped by a flashing light. Oh no… that meant it was going to—

Crash! 

Vil jumps at the noise. He didn’t see that a thunderstorm was coming and the juvenile anxiety regarding that was starting to rise to his throat. For as fearless as she was… there was one thing that did manage to get him on edge.

“Vil, let’s go inside.” Idia speaks, chin tipping as he motioned to the inside of Vil’s home. “You don’t like thunder.”

Ah. Idia remembered. 

No! He can’t be softened by that! 

…But he didn’t want to be out here to see or hear anymore of this storm. So, despite himself, he opens the door wider and makes room for the other to enter too. He’s met with a brief hesitation from Idia before ultimately shuffling in.

She notes now that Idia is a little fuller than he once was. And Vil wonders if he had been taking care of himself. It was a constant battle in their younger years, trying to get Idia to eat properly. He wonders what was the straw that broke the camel’s back regarding this. 

Moving around Idia, Vil motions toward the umbrella stand next to the door. “You can leave that there. There’s slippers in the shoe rack.”

Idia was different but, also, exactly the same in their own way. Their posture was still horrible, hunched and timid as they closed their umbrella to place next to Vil’s. He then moves to the slippers, kicking his shoes off carefully before slipping into the house shoes Vil typically has for guests. 

He still can’t believe that Idia is standing in his doorway. Vil still doesn’t speak as Idia’s eyes scan the immediate area around them, eyes landing on heels for a few seconds before looking up and over at Vil once more. In response, Vil crosses her arms at her chest.

“You…” Idia starts, swallowing before continuing. “...You look nice…”

Surprise lights up Vil’s face for a moment, not having expected that at all. To compliment so freely? …Well, perhaps it wasn’t all that different. But, it was fitting of the relationship they had prior to their separation. To say that now? It was quite ballsy of him. Still, Vil’s eyes run down Idia’s form.

“You’re eating better.” She settles with. “That’s good to see. Really.” 

Idia lifts a hand to scratch at the back of their neck, a bashfulness showing itself. “Y-yeah…” Their eyes fall to the ground and over to the side. “Guess I do eat better now. I, uh…I-I’ve been keeping track of that… Well, Ortho has been but—” His sentence abruptly stops. 

Vil can only blink as Idia stares down at…something. Slowly the hand on his neck slides off and falls to his side. Confusion falls on Vil’s face, following his line of vision to find that he was staring at… his heels? 

“What are you—”

“—Y-You were on a date?” Idia cuts through, pointing at the heels before pointing to Vil. 

“...What?” Vil’s arms tense for a moment. Painted lips open, sputtering a bit and she has to wonder: why was she feeling guilty? It’s idiotic! And entirely unexpected! His body will have to get with the program—there isn’t anything attaching them together anymore, there hadn’t been for a while. There’s no need to be saddled with unnecessary…feelings. 

“I was.” She says. “Hold it. How did you know?”

Idia’s shoulders are tense. The person before him was always so transparent with his emotions. Even if maybe, they didn’t want to be. Idia wears disappointment familiarly—Vil had always hated seeing it. She finds herself feeling the very same even now.

“...Your shoes.” They say, giving a bit of a shrug. “You uh, wear these types…when you go on a date.”

Vil looks down at her shoes—Idia was right. They’re comfy, but quite tall. In truth, they aren’t made for much walking but absolutely stunning for outings that have a lot of sitting. This is why they aren’t the sort of heels Vil wears everyday, but they aren’t event shoes either. They’d probably make it to an awards show, but Vil’s outfit tonight was definitely not award show ready.

Either way, he isn’t sure how to feel about Idia remembering this about him. So, he turns instead, walking further into his living room. 

What the hell was Idia doing here? What the hell was he doing remembering these things? And why the hell did he decide to turn up now? Vil’s head is swimming and his heart has just barely started to calm down. 

“Would you like… water…?” Vil speaks, trailing off when he turns and sees that Idia is still at the doorway. Hands wringing together, tips of their hair nearly black. 

She can see the indecision from here. And, well, she really can’t help the small feeling of… amusement? Enamorment? As Idia slouches, bangs covering his face. They looked just like they did when they were in NRC. That timid Housewarden; unsure, scared Idia Shroud. Despite her initial feeling, she didn’t actually like to see him upset.

Vil shifts his weight between his feet, hip poking out as he crosses his arms. It’s clear as day, Idia’s looking for a way out.

“It didn’t go well.” Idia’s head snaps up, their eyes wide. “It was rather disappointing, really. He wasn’t a bad guy or anything but, there was a lack of spark. Hardly worth pursuing anything other than friendship.”

Idia looks like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as they digest the information. Vil chooses to wait it out. She’s fighting back some sort of smirk. There’s no way to hide it, really. 

“S-So you’re single?!” The question rushes out of Idia like he nearly chokes on it. Vil isn’t sure what made her jump more—the volume the question is asked in or the fact that Idia rushed closer while saying it. They’re still not close, but they’re finally away from the door. 

“Yes, Idia. I’m single.” Now she lets the smirk free. “So you can stop sulking.”

At that, the blacktips finally left Idia’s hair. But, it was replaced by a faint pink—embarrassment. Back then, he would do anything to see that gorgeous pink color engulf his hair entirely. How problematic for Vil, that it appears that the sight of the pink still made his own chest feel tight. They always looked so good in pink.

Vil clears his throat as Idia’s clutching the end of their ponytail, trying to hide the pink they also realize has surfaced. 

“So, that water…?” Vil asks. 

“Oh uh…” Idia seems to be thinking their decision through. After a few seconds, they give a nod. “Yeah.”

“Very well. Take a seat wherever you’d like.” Vil says as he turns to the kitchen. 

In the privacy of the kitchen, Vil allows himself a moment to come to terms with what was currently happening. Placing his elbows on the island, he holds his head in his hands for a few seconds before his fingers slide into his own hair. 

Vil was playing it well for now, but her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since that first knock. With every look, every word—all she could think about was their past. Seven, Vil always looked at the future! There was no looking back! And yet, they were the one thing he could never move on from. 

It was embarrassing! To be caught up in a relationship from seven years ago?! It was juvenile! They were teenagers! Vil met new interesting people all the time. He’d meet actors, musicians, models, production crew, camera-people… but none of them could keep her interest. Maybe he didn’t want them to, deep down. But it was something to work on. It was something Vil was actively working on, in fact…! So it was truly unfair for Idia to suddenly show up on a rainy night!

After all, what was this? Some sort of romantic comedy? She had entertained the idea of trying to be in one, but Vil hadn’t bet on it becoming real life.

“Okay…” Vil whispers to the air around him, getting a glass before walking over to the fridge. He figured he’ll just hear Idia out on all of this… Vil wasn’t an idiot, she knew why he was here. But why now? Why tonight? Why—

Crash! A loud rumble fills the sky, a flash of light following closely behind. Vil jumps, managing to bite back a yell, but he couldn’t say the same about keeping a solid grip on the glass. It shatters on the floor and that manages to get a yelp out of Vil.

“Vil…?!” Idia calls out from the living room, concern in his tone. 

“I’m fine!” Vil calls back, ducking down to quickly try and pick up the bigger pieces of glass. He feels a sort of anxiety to clean this up before Idia could get in. He doesn’t know where it comes from. 

“Vil?” He hears Idia call out again. She’s ducked down behind the island, she doesn’t see him. “Where uh, where are you?”

“Wait, Idia. Don’t come over here. I dropped the cup—Fuck!” Vil drops all the pieces he had picked up, looking as blood started to bead on his pointer finger. “Shit.”

Idia rushes around the island, eyes wide as he slows himself down by gripping his hands on the surface of the counter and island. He examines the mess around Vil before his eyes land on her hand. 

“You’re bleeding!” He squeaks out.

“Yeah, I know!” Vil snaps, making Idia recoil back. An action she immediately regrets. “I’m sorry… I just… behind you there’s a first aid kit.” She says, pointing to a drawer behind Idia. 

Despite the earlier reaction, they still whip around to fetch it. Though, they ignore Vil’s outstretched hand as they reach for the bleeding one instead. 

“I can handle it—”

“I know you can.” Idia speaks, bringing the finger up and close to his eyes. He examines it carefully. “But, I…I want to help… and I’m checking to see if any glass is stuck in your wound.”

Well. She couldn’t stop him now, could she?

Idia examines it carefully for a few seconds more, before they turn to the first aid kit. Flipping it open, they pull out alcohol wipes and a bandage. 

Like this, Vil can really appreciate how much Idia has changed. There’s a maturity that wasn’t there before… perhaps it came with age. Or from working at S.T.Y.X. She decides she quite likes their new look. Really liked it, actually. The sleek glasses sit on them nicely and the undercut gives just that touch of edginess Idia liked. And the piercing? Vil hadn’t thought Idia would ever indulge in that change. And, just as he had predicted back then, it suit Idia. 

This wasn’t the same petrified teenager battling demons that still pained Vil to this day. And, dammit, she felt pride blossom in her. 

“Sorry, this might hurt.” Idia mumbles before passing the alcohol wipe over the cut. Vil sucks in a sharp breath at the sting. 

The silence between them stays as Idia continues to clean the wound. Inspecting it again, they seem to be satisfied when they don’t see any glass. 

“How deep is it?” Vil asks.

“It isn’t. What were you doing trying to pick up glass with your hands?!” He asks, now turning to unwrap the bandaid before lining it up with the wound. 

A small blush of embarrassment colors Vil’s cheeks. “I—There’s thunder outside. I can hardly make any sound decisions when I’m so riled up.” And then, softer, she says, “not to mention the unexpected guest.”

It was Idia’s turn to blush. This time, though, it didn’t reach their hair.

“...I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Idia trails off, finishing sticking the bandaid on. “...Ah, ugh…” Idia lets go of Vil’s hand, getting up abruptly before turning away from Vil. “This was stupid, wasn’t it? A-At the very least, it’s rude! Who do I think I am? Some SSR normie protagonist in some visual novel?! I-I’m more of a level one NPC! Or, or the… the creep!”

Vil stands up now. “So, you do still ramble?”

“E-Eh?” Idia says. Ah, good, Vil’s successfully stopped their inevitable downward spiral.

“Idia…” Vil looks behind them, glass still all over the floor. He lets out a sigh before taking their wrist and hiding them on the opposite side of the island. She tries her best to ignore the way her hand tingles once she pulls away, it was so familiar. 

“Why did you come here?” Vil asked. 

“Because…!” Idia swallows, lifting his hands up to his chest. They start to rub the wrist Vil had been holding seconds ago. “...Because I-I miss you, Vil. I know it’s pathetic but, I miss you—”

“—You’re the one who broke up with me.” A momentary silence fills the air between them. Where Vil keeps his eyes on Idia, Idia turns his head away for a moment. Slowly, Vil can see the tips of their hair grow that dark color. 

“...I didn’t want to hold you back.” They say, frowning deeply. “My destiny was always chosen for me. I was always going to end up at S.T.Y.X. a-and I didn’t want to trap you like… like Mom was.”

She remembered this reasoning. Idia had said it then too. Vil can feel that old anger sizzling at her core. It was the same one he had felt back then, before the devastation. Seven! And Idia had been so…. so cowardly back then! Breaking up on the day they were going to go back to S.T.Y.X. All they had left was an hour! It was… entirely selfish!

“Right.” Vil spoke, eyes rolling before he crossed his arms. “You didn’t even try. I told you I was willing to work something out between us.”

“It was impossible back then!” Idia says, turning back to look at Vil. “That’s just fact!”

Vil scoffs. “Fact? No. You were just always too scared to stand up against the status quo. You never liked doing anything that was too hard! Not to mention, your complete inability to see past the negative. You didn’t even let us try.”

Vil can see the mixture of pain and offense on Idia’s face. Their eyebrows furrow, their mouth opening.

“Vil—”

“—You devastated me, Idia!” Vil nearly yelled, causing Idia to jump. Their mouth hangs, opening and closing like a fish out of water. This doesn’t deter Vil. This was the first time he would be able to give Idia a piece of his mind and he wasn’t going to waste it. 

“I wasn’t blind to your future, Idia! Nor was I idiotic enough to think it was going to be easy! But, I just thought that… that we would find a way to still be together. Because we… ugh, because we loved each other. We were in love and it’s stupid to have such a fairytale thought but I was prepared for the fight. I was willing to do anything I could to try and be together.”

Hands push through Vil’s hair, he hated that he could feel his eyes welling up. No. Vil was not going to cry tonight. “Never did I think you would just break up with me. Seven, Idia, you didn’t even give me a warning!”

“I… I wanted to use up every second I had…” Idia speaks softly. 

“Of course. You were always selfish.” Vil says, head shaking. “And I wanted you to be selfish about me. I wanted you to want me enough to work through the hardship.”

The black now fully consumed Idia’s tips. They hunch into themselves for a moment before they bring up both of their hands and aggressively rub at their face, hands going under the glasses. 

“I regret it.” He finally speaks, albeit a bit muffled by the hands. Vil can hear nonetheless. “I regretted it every day of my life. I knew I would but… I… I-I’m an idiot, Vil! You’re right! I’m the useless one in the party, you might as well leave me at camp! My stats suck!”

Vil couldn’t believe that after all this time, she could still understand what Idia was trying to say. 

“You are an idiot. A massive one.” Vil says. Idia’s shoulders slump. 

“...This…this isn’t how I-I thought it would go…”

“Really? I don’t know how you didn’t. Did you think I was going to accept you with open arms?” Vil scoffs, nose to the air.

“I knew you wouldn’t. It’s what I love…ah, um…. loved about you. That you stand your ground…” Idia says, finally allowing his hands to fall at his sides. “But, I meant us. For a moment after everything with Ortho and my… my overblot, I thought my lack of involvement would become my new normal. I had thought we would be together and I’d get to live this life with you I hadn’t thought I’d be able to before.” Idia scoffs, a humorless laugh poking through. “How naive… That all came crashing down when my parents called me days before graduation to see how I was. And to check if I was ready to be a fulltime S.T.Y.X. employee.”

Vil softens at that. “...I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t want you to know. I-I sort of wanted you to hate me.” They say. “I wanted you to think I was a horrible person so the break up would be, I-I don’t know… easier for you, I guess…?”

“Easier for—” Vil cuts himself off with a scoff of his own. He shakes his head as he pushes his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “Please, Idia, I could never hate you. Even now, I don’t hate you.”

“You should.” 

“But I don’t.” She shrugs, head shaking again. “It was so hard for me. My heart broke that day. All I could do was replay that moment over and over. Trust me, I wanted to hate you. I wanted to think about all the ways I would curse you or poison you if I could. But, all I did was miss you.”

Vil sighs. “All I do is miss you.” She admits. At that, Idia’s eyes widen like saucers. Stiffened there for a moment, Vil waits with anxious anticipation as Idia gets their bearings. 

“W-What?” They finally choke out. 

“That’s why the date didn’t work out tonight.” Vil says, pink blush dusting her cheeks. If her heart could pound any harder, it would burst right out of her chest. “That’s why any date never worked out. I… pathetically… would put them up against you and against what we had.”

“I knew it was wrong to do so. But, I just… I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t ready to fall out of love.”

With each word, Vil could see Idia attempting to soak it all in. In truth, Vil was just as stunned. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to admit all of this, now that he was. But, that’s how they had been before. Unafraid to tell each other their feelings.

“...I…” Idia closes his eyes tightly, hands gripping the end of his ponytail. “I never stopped….!” He exclaims now, wringing his hair. 

His eyes were still closed, which was a shame because Vil wanted to search into them to see if this was real. And he wonders, for the first time, if this was some sort of dream. That maybe, he’d wake up on the couch and would be just as alone as he had been. But the cut, the blush on his cheeks, his heart pounding so loud in his ears—this was real. This was happening. 

Pink started to grow in Idia’s hair, finally replacing that horrible black color. 

“I never stopped either.” She finally speaks.

Idia’s eyes fly open. And suddenly, all at once, his hair engulfs in pink. 

“You… you….” Idia speaks softly at first. “....Eh?!”

“Come on, Idia. Don’t you think I would’ve kicked you out? No, actually. You wouldn’t have ever passed the front door.” Vil can’t help the quirk of her lips, a ghost of a smile. “I wouldn’t have indulged in any of this if I wasn’t.”

All Idia could do was blink. And it becomes very apparent to Vil that Idia hadn’t expected this to happen. In fact, she could bet that they probably thought Vil was going to kick her out.

“But… what difference does it make?” Vil asks. “You’re still in S.T.Y.X., right? Why… Idia, why did you show up today? Now? Why not several months ago? Or years?”

At that question, Idia seems to lighten up. 

“Since going back, I’ve been trying to find a way to be able to limit my attendance! At first, I had thought it would be way more of a challenge, but because of my brothers’ interference during my overblot, I was able to get into the system more than ever before! Don’t get me wrong, it was still tricky. S.T.Y.X. technology is packed with security measures, not to mention restrictions in nearly all software and documents.”

“But, Ortho helped me! And uh, if you can believe it, even mom and dad. And together we were able to find a way to be able to ah—” Idia stops, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “These terms are going to fly by you…. uh TL;DR: I’m able to remote in from anywhere without needing to be within S.T.Y.X. and with heavy, heavy encryption. But, mwehehe, who’s even smart enough to hack me? But ah, I’ll still have to go in from time to time… probably once or twice a week… Depends, really…” 

“Wait…” Vil starts. “Wait, wait… so… you don’t have to live there?”

Finger scratches at his cheek. “No.” Idia says. “I don’t have to live there.”

Vil blinks, mouth agape as all he could do was stare. What? Was this… How… The amount of times Vil had hoped for this…!

“...And that took seven years?” She asks incredulously.

“Yeah, can you believe it? Ortho and I ran the numbers and we thought it would take way longer because of the sheer amount of data. But, mwehehe, we only took that as a challenge! Seven years is pretty impressive, right?!” 

Vil still couldn’t believe it. It’s like the information wasn’t sinking and yet? It was totally, absolutely resonating with her. Did this mean… but they shouldn’t… No. No, Vil needed to be realistic! What? She couldn’t just jump into his arms! Right? Right! Of course… right?

“So… that means…?” She says, stepping forward. Eyes focus between Idia’s right and left. It’s like she’s searching for something, anything, to put a damper in this moment. Or, maybe, to bring her back to reality!

That doesn’t seem to happen.

“Vil. I want to try again.” Idia says slowly, wanting to make sure they wouldn’t stutter. “I love you.” 

Vil feels absolutely breathless. What…was this? What is happening right now? Not once… not ever did he think this would happen. She was so sure, positive, that Idia had moved on. That it was only she who had been stuck. 

Vil couldn’t remember a time Idia had ever pulled such a move like this. 

Even before, Vil had been the initiator of a lot of their firsts. If it hadn’t been her persistence, they probably wouldn’t have gotten together. Eventually, once they were more comfortable, Idia would initiate but Vil always made the first move. 

Now Idia was making that first move. Now Idia was fighting for Vil. 

“...Idia…I…” She breathes out. Hands grip his own arms. They want to reach out for the other. “This… hah… Idia, I must sit down.”

They move on their own, pulling a stool over for her. Goodness, they move like they know this home. Like they belong here… what was happening?!

“Y-You don’t have to give me an answer…! Now or uh, ever…. i-if you don’t want to!” Idia speaks. She can see it, the beginning of their insecurity starting to eat at them. “This isn’t fair of me to do to you. I know.”

Vil sits slowly, taking those seconds to breathe. Just… breathe. 

“I’m still in love with you too.” He says, the words cascading out like a waterfall. He thinks it isn’t much of a secret, he had already implied it, didn’t he? Still, that seems to affect Idia. Pink hair now comes to life; the flames dance.

“R-Really?!” They ask, leaning forward. 

“Yes. I never stopped, I practically admitted this already.” Vil says. They’re not blind to the small smile starting to grow on Idia’s face. And it’s something she absolutely needed to put a stop to this instant. If he actually smiles completely? Fully and beautifully? Vil might very well let them get away with murder. 

“I-I know, but to hear you say it so openly—” 

“But,” she cuts in, raising a finger to also create some distance between them. And it works, Idia pulls back to avoid it altogether. “I have my reservations. There will be rules… no. They will be laws.”

Idia nods quickly. “The walkthrough…. Got it.”

“We have to start over. I’m not foolish enough to say we have to ignore the past—remembering it is how we save ourselves from making the same mistakes. But, I want to be taken out on a first date. We’ve been out of each other’s lives for so long. We’re different people now.” He says, before the finger he’s held up is joined by the middle finger next to it.

“Second, you have to promise me you’ll communicate—especially if it involves something that will, eventually, involve me too! I want to be able to help you if you need it, but I also want to be prepared if things get difficult or otherwise.”

Idia nods quickly again. “O-Okay… that’s fair.”

A third finger joins in. “...This is your second and your last strike, Idia. I don’t believe in giving someone more than two chances.” She shakes her head at them. “I don’t want to go through that pain again.”

“I promise,” Idia starts. “I won’t mess up this time. I-I won’t let myself lose you again…!”

“Please, Idia. Don’t lose me.” He speaks candidly and vulnerably. He really, really wanted Idia to get it right this time. “And I’ll promise not to mess up either.”

Idia scoffs. “You never messed up, Vil.”

“Still.” She shrugs. “I still want to promise it.”

Idia blinks for a moment, the ghost of a smile starting to pull at the corner of his lips. Vil watches as they massage the bridge of their nose, right where the glasses sit, before he looks up at the ceiling. She can see now that the smile has grown more. And then, suddenly, Idia’s excited laugh bursts through. 

“I…I can’t believe it!” They say, looking back at Vil now. “I’ll have to thank Ortho when I get back…! I—c-can I hug you…?!” 

Again, as always, Idia proves that they are not as predictable as Vil thinks they are. It startles a laugh out of her before she gets up. Vil’s consent comes in the form of hugging Idia first, but it doesn’t take long for the other to reciprocate. With Vil’s arms going around their neck, their own go around Vil’s waist. 

And it… it feels like home. Seven, it feels so much like home. He knew he missed this feeling but he didn’t realize it was this intense. Vil absolutely melts into it. A deep inhale gives Vil the pleasant realization that Idia still used the same detergent. All at once, the emotion makes his heart burst. 

This was where he was meant to be. Always. 

They stay like that for minutes. Hours? Vil doesn’t really know, but when they finally started to pull back, she had this strange feeling like it wasn’t enough. The disappointment settles in her stomach. She just wasn’t ready to pull away yet. 

And as they do, each of them pulling back just enough to look the other in the eyes, the tension and air between them is thick. The emotion was sparking off of them and the other was soaking it up. 

Vil isn’t sure who made that first move, but her eyes flutter close as she feels Idia’s forehead press into hers. Thank Seven, each and every one of them, for bringing them back to him. 

Vil’s eyes open at a half-lid and he can’t help it when they fall onto Idia’s lips. They should go slow. Vil had just said they needed to start over. But, words couldn’t really hold up against history sometimes. History and strong feelings. 

Again, Vil wasn’t sure who started moving first. Hell, he hadn’t even realized Idia’s eyes were open too. All he felt was lips, slightly chapped, pressed against his. 

And this? Oh… oh, this was like a desert traveler’s first sip of water. She was so damn parched. Idia’s kiss is a lifeline. The kiss deepens quickly. The taste of Idia is familiar and yet exciting and new. Vil missed this. Seven, Vil loved this. Loves this. 

Vil is so in love with Idia. 

When they part, both of them needing air, they don’t untangle from each other right away. In fact, it seems they’re both content with staying right here. 

“...You don’t have to leave right away, do you?” She asks in a whisper. They’re so close, there’s no need to speak any louder. 

“No.” Idia answers. “Even if I had to… I-I wouldn’t go. I can’t now.”

Vil smiles before a small laugh pushes past her lips. She bites her bottom lip for a moment before placing her head into his neck. 

“Stay with me tonight, then.” It sounds like a demand more than a request. 

Idia’s own breathy laugh shows itself next. “Okay.”

[lettersfromaphrodite]

[14.56]

― pairing : Minho x fem! reader ― content warnings : angst, smut, fluff, vampire au, mentions of blood, medieval settings, reader is a vampire hunter, Minho is a vampire, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all) ― word count : 5,864

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🧛‍♂️ VAMPIRE! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho // Felix

Being a vampire hunter not only was some families’ tradition, but some even claimed it was written in their blood as well.

Generation after generation, they were raised not only to fight vampires, but also to hate them with every fiber of their being. Obviously, you weren’t any different.

Raised as one of the most promising hunters, you have always managed to hide all your emotions behind a neutral and apparently detached expression, ignoring your victims pleas about being repentant about their ruthless actions.

«Vampires don’t deserve sympathy.» that’s what you’ve been taught: men and women which willingly decided to defy the rules of nature and life itself, yearning for immortality and therefore killing innocent people in order to feast on their blood.

That’s how you’ve lived your life so far, sharing a small, humble and cosy cottage with your friend Jarette, a hunter as well; since you and Jarette had always considered each other sisters and often worked together in our missions, you were rather surprised to know that the town’s Guild wanted you to go on a mission alone.

The mission didn’t seem particularly difficult: apparently, a group of vampires was not only the culprit of numerous murders, but also responsible for a significant numbers of theft.

Essentially, your mission consisted in patrolling the house of one of the richest families; to all the hunters to whom the mission had been entrusted, they had consequently been entrusted with different houses to be guarded for the duration of the night.

Quietly humming to yourself a song you heard few nights ago from some wandering musicians, you finished smearing salt on the marble floor, creating a perfect circle; it was the only thing that could keep vampires and other demonic entities away. With a satisfied nod, you turned towards the woman and the little kid she was protectively hoisting in her arms.

«As long as we’ll stand inside the circle, we’ll be fine.» you smiled, and the woman simply nodded at you, carefully lifting her dress enough not to smear the salt and ruin the continuity of the circle.

«If…» the woman started, only to immediately interrupt herself; she lowered her gaze on the floor, as if she was carefully choosing her next words, «Please, if anything happens, promise me you’ll at least save my son.» tightening your jaw, you nodded, used to these kind of promises.

For you, it was definitely the worst part of the job: making empty promises. Despite the fact that you somehow silently guaranteed her son’s safety, you weren’t in the position to do that.

No one ever knew how many vampires would have showed up, if they did; they could either show up alone, or with a backup. This was one of the main risks of your job, but still, you – and the other hunters, knew that it was the only way to tranquillize people.

A disturbing noise coming from the wide window on your left caught your attention, you instinctively flinched in discomfort, the noise seeming as if someone was scratching the glass; immediately, the little boy threw his arms around his mother, which leaned closer to your frame.

As fast as the noise started, it stopped, and you furrowed your brows, forcing yourself to take slow and deep breaths as you stood with a short dagger in your hand, waiting for the vampire’s next move. You were nervous, but you couldn’t give it away; even if you were used to vampires’ attempt to scare their preys, you still didn’t know when they would have attacked. It was somehow a psychological game, and you hated it.

The silence was deafening, and it was as if you could mark time with the beating of your heart; few seconds later, the window shattered in a billion pieces, and you noticed with horror how some of the broken glass fragments managed to destroy the salt circle.

«Oh, I hate when they do this!» you screamed to yourself, before quickly instructing the woman o hide in the wardrobe behind the two of you, «If anybody other than me opens that door, stab them.» you added, handing her a short knife you kept in your left boot, before giving her a quick push on her back; the wardrobe’s door closed and you immediately turned around, focusing your attention elsewhere since the wardrobe had an internal lock, meaning that she and her son should have been safe for a while.

The hate you felt towards vampire was also fueled by how fast they could move; even if you had been fighting for who knows how long, you hated to admit that once it came to physical fights, hunters didn’t stand a chance against vampires. The vampire was alone, and he easily towered over you. He was undoubtedly strong, and constantly looking at you as if you were food; the mockery you read in his eyes made you nervous and even angrier. You hated to admit it, but you were starting to lose concentration due to the fact that he was managing to get under your skin due to the fact that he kept countering your attacks, as if he could read your mind.

Panic pervaded your senses as the vampire roughly disarmed you with a quick movement and pinned you against the wall, hands around your throat in the unmistakable attempt to kill you in a slow and painful way; however, much to your surprise, it didn’t last too long.

The vampire let go of you due to the fact that he was being roughly yanked back by another boy, which didn’t waste time to stab him in his stomach, before tying his wrists with what looked like silver handcuffs; desperately catching your breath, you wondered if he was a hunter as well.

“I don’t thing he’s a hunter from the village,” you thought, “I never saw him before.”

«You’re lucky I was passing by, little one.» the boy spoke, and turned towards you.

«You’re one of them.» you spat, your voice coming out a little bit rougher due to the fact that you’ve almost been choked to death, his bright red eyes burning into yours.

«I don’t like being compared to this mud of insignificant misfits.» he said in a despising tone, using the tip of his leather boot to move the other vampire’s head which was still lying on the floor, unconscious.

Before you could question him further, he appeared in front of you and kneeled in order to look at you a little closely. Much to your dismay, you had to admit that the boy in front of you was so handsome he was almost otherworldly; big doe eyes were burning in a crimson colour, his hair were as black as a starless night and neatly styled so that it framed his delicate face, and his lips were plump and rosy – they undoubtedly looked kissable but you didn’t want to admit that to yourself yet.

«Checking out the enemy, I see?» he raised an eyebrow with a smug grin, and you felt your cheeks heathen in shame.

«Shut up.» you spat through gritted teeth, wanting to push him away from you but also completely aware that you couldn’t do much when you were confronting a vampire while unarmed; the boy chuckled, before reaching towards your neck with his left hand, which was enveloped by a leather black glove.

«It seems our goal is the same,» his voice was suddenly low and husky, and he blatantly ignored how you instinctively flinched away from his touch, «we’ll see each other again.» all it took for him was to touch a particular spot behind your neck, and your world went black.

Six months passed from your first encounter with the handsome vampire – Minho, and it pained you to admit how many times he actually saved you from certain death – despite the fact that you were one of the best hunters in your village.

Tonight was pretty much the same; contrarily to the expectations, the vampire showed up with a back up, and you had to face three vampires by yourself.

With a quick movement, you spun on your heels while lightly throwing in mid air the dagger you held with your right hand just to grab it with your left hand and try to stab the vampire while breathing a pained groan; earlier, one of his companions had clawed at your side, leaving you exposed, bleeding and suffering.

Somehow, you managed to take the vampire in front of you by surprise, stabbing him in the heart with your silver dagger; you fell forwards, placing your hands on your knees in the effort of balancing yourself as you were panting, your chest rapidly moving in the desperate attempt to keep up with your ragged breath. You didn’t know how you managed to take down a group of three vampires while being completely alone, but you were glad you could make it out alive with few injuries.

As you were about to collect your dagger, you heard an impressed whistle coming from behind you, accompanied with a slow clap of hands; you quickly spun around once again, just to recognize a very familiar figure.

«Minho.» you spat, taking your eyes off of him to finally collect your dagger and clean it using the vampire’s jacket.

«Little one,» he raised an eyebrow, smiling at you, «I’m impressed.» he stared to walk towards you, and before you could come up with a sarcastic retort, he cut you off, «Impressed at how you didn’t realise I saved your pretty ass once again.» you furrowed your brows, watching Minho tilt his head towards one of the vampire’s corpses on the floor; you got the hint, and immediately walked towards it. 

Once again, much to your dismay, Minho covered your back while you were distracted, since you obviously didn’t have the habit to claw at vampires’ necks before stabbing them.

«I can do my job by myself.» you said through gritted teeth, and Minho simply chuckled, confidently walking next to you.

«Yeah?» he said, glancing at the wound on your side; you saw his red eyes glimmer with a different emotion, and you had to advert your gaze and stand up, putting a little bit of distance between the two of you.

For a start, Minho was a vampire – a noble from what you’ve heard, and you were a vampire hunter; you didn’t know what made the both of you refrain from killing each other, you just knew that more than once, Minho had intervened in order to help you in your tasks.

«Vampires chase criminals as well, little one.» he had said once, «you shouldn’t interfere with our authorities too much, I can’t always play as your guardian angel.» it has been his justification for its continuous appearing out of nowhere to defend you, sometimes bringing unconscious vampires with them, and some other times simply settling for killing them as soon as he got the opportunity. 

Minho puzzled you; he never tried to hurt you, nor to get in your way. Even if you didn’t want to admit it out loud, he proved himself to be a great help, despite the fact that he kept teasing you about your “poor hunters skills”.

Another thing was the fact that between the two of you was an undeniable sexual tension; you lost count of the times where Minho had pinned you against the wall while keeping an unbothered expression and a satisfied grin just to prove that «you need to train more than this, if you want to win against me», and you lost count of the times where the two of you were so close that you were about to kiss. 

Probably, due to your status, no one dared to do the first step; giving in to you mutual lust would have meant that one of you had to irremediably give up something, and for sure, that someone would have been you.

«Then treat your wound before it gets infected, little one.» Minho simply added, before vanishing in thin air.

«Were there more than one vampire or is your boyfriend into some kinky things?» Jarette chuckled to herself as she was cleaning and disinfecting the wound on your side.

«He’s not my boyfriend,» you immediately scoffed, «he’s a stupid vampire.» you clarified, and she chuckled once again, not giving you an actual answer.

Jarette was the only one you trusted enough to tell what was going on; of course, just like you, she had been wary and cautious about Minho at first,but eventually her opinion started to change.

«Maybe, some of them are good?» Jarette had said one rainy evening, while the both of you were busy cleaning your weapons.

«Jarette,» you immediately cut her sentence, placing the dagger you were holding on the table, «do you realize that what you just said goes against what we’ve been taught since we were children?» with a sad smile and a somehow troubled expression, she nodded, refusing to meet your gaze.

«Does it scare you?» she asked, her short knife long forgotten on the table as she was busy playing with her fingers in a nervous way, «The idea of being wrong and therefore having killed innocent people scares me, a lot.»

«It scares me, too.» you hesitantly admitted.

Since then, the two of you never actually brought up the topic again, but Jarette apparently found hilarious the idea of teasing you about your relationship with Minho.

“The night is dark and full of terrors”, you had been taught, but nonetheless you often ended up training alone in your back garden, your ragged breath and the sound of the steel knives sinking into the various training mannequins were the only sounds in the silence of the night.

«Now I know why you can’t fight.» an amused voice mumbled against your ear, and before you could turn around and point your dagger at him, Minho had effortlessly blocked your wrists next to your waist.

«What are you doing here?» you whispered back, nervously looking around; you knew that no one could have seen the two of you since your back garden was safely hidden from indiscreet eyes, but you could never be sure about something like that. After all, Minho was a vampire, and you were a vampire hunter.

«I actually came here with a very specific purpose,» Minho nodded to himself before furrowing his eyebrows, «But that can wait…» you let him take your dagger from your hand, only to gently place it at the mannequin’s feet. Minho walked back until he was standing in front of you, both his hands behind his back; you quizzically stared at him, wondering why he was acting so weird all of a sudden.

«Show me what you’ve got,» he said, «let’s fight.» his eyes were glimmering in the dark, and you scoffed, not bothering to voice your actual answer; after all, you’d never refuse an opportunity to physically fight the boy which was so incredibly talented at getting on your nerves. As you quickly raised your leg in an attempt to kick him, he effortlessly blocked it, harshly gripping on your ankle.

«Didn’t work,» Minho shrugged, almost mocking you, «try again.»

«My, my, little one. I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.» Minho whispered as he had pinned you on the floor yet another time; it didn’t matter how many times you and him had been fighting, it didn’t matter how many times you did your best to catch him by surprise and tackle him down, in the end, you’d end up pinned on the floor, Minho either sitting on your stomach or some other times with his body pressed flush against yours.

While you were struggling to catch your breath, Minho looked like he didn’t even break a sweat, his hair being slightly dishevelled was the only hint that could give away the fact that you had been fighting.

«Yeah, you wish.» you didn’t know the exact reason why you were on the defensive every time he provoked you, but you were determined to absolutely not give away the fact that you found him attractive.

«Who knows,» Minho winked with a smile, before letting go of your wrists, leaning back so that he was once again sitting on your stomach, «there’s a group of newborn on the run, they’re probably headed towards your village.» Minho suddenly said while getting up, somehow signalling your training was over. 

Furrowing your brows, you propped yourself on your elbows, the faint light of the approaching dawn colouring both the two of you and the landscape with warm colours.

«Why did you come all the way here to warn me?» you questioned, watching as Minho had started to walk away from you. 

«Don’t get hurt.» he simply answered, before lifting his hand in mid air in a hint of a wave, and vanishing in thin air. 

Could it be that he was worried for you?

Jarette wasn’t home, her mission wanted her to spend a whole week at the Capital, thing which not only allowed you to have the house for yourself, but also to think.

During the past days you’ve had thought so much about Minho that you were about to have a headache, your thoughts gradually getting louder to the point where you couldn’t stand the sound of your own voice overthinking everything.

The truth was, you were busy both focusing your hatred towards the vampires you were hunting and both keeping up your silly rivalry with Minho that you didn’t realize you might have developed feelings for him. But, how could you develop feelings for someone who you didn’t even know?

In the past months you had seen him almost daily, and despite he had never said anything about himself which weren’t essential informations, you knew that he meant no harm. 

After all, Minho had countless opportunities to kill you, if he wanted to; however, he never did, not even during the few times you trained together. Minho was always careful to you, actually praising you every now and then and also explaining few – pretty much dishonest, tricks to disarm your opponent, along with some other things you had never been taught from your teachers.

No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to despise the other’s presence.

Night arrived rather fast, and Minho didn’t hesitate to show up; he didn’t look particularly concentrated, and judging by the dark circles under his glimmering red eyes, you deduced he was probably hungry. Taking advantage of the situation, your training didn’t last too long, since you didn’t hesitate to clasp his wrists together with silver chains.

As you walked in circles around him, Minho stood motionless, the fact that you managed to handcuff him was outrageous; you knew that he was following your movements with his eyes, not bothering to turn his head anytime you walked behind him.

«Who’s the weak one, now?» you asked as you came to a stop in front of him, your eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips. Minho simply rolled his eyes, thankful about the fact that the silver handcuffs weren’t actually hurting him, since they were hanging loosely around his wrists which were covered by the leather of his gloves.

«Are you planning on turn me in?» Minho asked, knitting his eyebrows in doubt, not doing anything to hide the fact that he would have been sad about your meetings coming to an end. Truth was, you would have never done something like that; you knew what the hunters did to the vampires they managed to capture and you absolutely didn’t want for Minho to witness any of it. 

As you looked into his eyes, you realized that the nature of your feelings towards him was a haze that slowly began to dissipate; your gaze was fixed on his delicate features as the tip of your short dagger traced his jaw with a feather touch, and Minho closed his eyes with a sigh, not immune to the sting of the silver blade against his delicate features.

«I don’t know,» you admitted, «should I?» Minho’s gaze didn’t falter from yours, and if you were to be honest, you underestimated the situation; you thought that looking into his eyes would have been the same as any other day and you didn’t consider that you would feel your heartbeat suddenly quicken. 

Honestly, you wondered if all it took you for realize the nature of your feelings for Minho was such a simple yet fundamental question: were you willing to protect him?

Never once you had mentioned his existence to the other hunters – beside Jarette, and so, deep down, you knew you already had your answer for a while; actually, the answer you’ve been looking for has always been there, but you had simply refused to acknowledge it. 

Minho could hear the wild rhythm of your heart and somehow, it was as if he could hear your thoughts as well. Slowly, you took another step towards him, so that there was no more space between the two of you; hesitantly, you stood on your tiptoes, your lips brushing against Minho’s in a shy attempt of a kiss, as if you were testing the waters between the two of you.

Minho’s eyes were as wide as the moon, staring at you like he couldn’t believe if what happened was real or not; the secret hope that you would have stopped hunting people from his kind was as alive as ever in his heart, now mixed with the even more secret hope that you’d end up choosing him instead of your own kind.

Timidly, you adverted your gaze, misinterpreting Minho’s silence as a refusal; however, Minho was quick to trap you between his arms with a quick movement of his handcuffed hands, the silver chain now pressing on your lower back and pulling you to his body.

«Was that supposed to be your answer?» Minho’s voice was gentle; a sweet whisper against your skin, a stark contrast to the other times where he mocked you in the past; you were trapped, he was using the chain connecting the handcuffs to pull you body flush against his, and as you placed your hands on his chest, you realized that even if you could have chosen anywhere to be, you would have probably chosen the exact place where you were now. 

Before you could actually nod, Minho captured your kiss in a passionate kiss which you immediately returned, and shortly after, you found yourself pinned against he wall of your house, Minho’s lips kissing you with the same fervour as if he had been anticipating this moment for centuries. You felt a brief sting on your lower lip, before Minho started to suck on it with a soft and yet satisfied sigh; as you felt the bitter taste of blood on your tongue, you realized that he was sneakily feeding from you. 

The chain of the handcuffs was clinging against your back as Minho’s hands were on your hips, his left thigh between yours as he eventually started leaving nibbles and kisses along your neck; you forced yourself to snap out of your daze, realizing that not only you had finally given in to your mutual lust, but you also let a vampire feed from you. 

«Minho,» you whimpered at the feeling of his teeth pulling on your earlobe; you gently pulled on his hair, happy to see that you weren’t the only one driven with desire, «Let’s go inside.» you added, before reaching out to take the handcuff’s key which was safely hidden in your corset.

Minho didn’t honestly gave you much time to catch your breath; the two of you barely made it until you were in your living room, getting rid of each other’s clothes along the away, before he eventually let you ride him while he was sitting on your armchair. By the fact that Minho had his head thrown back and his fingers sinking in the armrests, you realized that he was probably holding back, thing which you definitely did not want him to do.

Therefore, carefully balancing yourself on his shoulders, you began moving your hips in a slow and teasing manner, taking some time to move your hips in a circle anytime you were completely seated on his lap and purposely clenching around him anytime you moved in a different way; if you were to be honest, you didn’t know how long you could keep this up, especially because his moans and hisses of pleasure were such an addictive sound you constantly wanted to hear.

«What game are you playing, little one?» the mere fact that Minho ended the sentence with a strained moan was enough for you to stutter on the rhythm you had set, making you instinctively stop to study his blissed out expression, and as his cold hands snaked around you hips, you realized that you were deliciously close to your goal, «tired already?» Minho’s alluring eyes finally met yours, and his hands effortlessly pulled on your hips so that you’d start grinding on him once again, only that this time you weren’t the one setting the pace anymore.

Instinctively, you leaned down to kiss him, and it was almost if with such a simple gesture, Minho let go of any inhibitions he might have had; this time, as you were restlessly moving on his length, Minho’s right hand was constantly placed on your hip with the only goal to pull you towards him a little bit harsher than needed while he was lifting his hips as well, meeting you halfway each time you rose and fell on his twitching length. 

Minho’s left hand was constantly travelling on your body, as if he was trying to make up for all the spot on your skin his mouth wasn’t kissing.

«Feed on me,» you whimpered against his lips, as you felt your orgasm approaching; Minho’s movements came to a stop, and he looked at you as if you had grown another head, «please.» you immediately added, your head filled with the desire of being his in any possible way.

«Are you sure, or is something you’re saying because of the heat of the moment?» Minho’s voice was gentle and caring, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel his length repeatedly twitch inside you, you would have found the way he gently pushed your hair behind your back extremely romantic.

«I’m sure of it, you-» you mumbled, interrupting your own sentence as if you adverted your gaze, looking for the right words to say, «you’re safe with me.»

«It’s not the best time to get emotional, little one.» Minho smiled with a breathless chuckle, looking satisfied and somehow taken back with your answer. Eventually, Minho simply told you to stay still as his fingers quickly worked on your clit, with the only explanation that he wanted to see you as you came undone for him; in the same moment your orgasm washed over you, you felt Minho’s fangs sinking in the skin of your neck, instinctively making you curl onto him as the sensation of your orgasm was being prolonged for all the time he was feeding from you.

The fact that the blissful sensation was mixed to the fact that Minho still didn’t come ended up stimulating you once again, especially when somehow, your fingers ended up on your clit, replacing Minho’s as he was focused on feeding from you.

It was something you couldn’t describe with words, and needless to say, no one of your previous partners had ever made you feel this good; as Minho’s tongue repeatedly licked over the bite marks he left in the attempt to make them heal faster, you felt your thighs shake, and another orgasm washed over you in a totally unexpected way – both for you and for Minho, triggering your lover’s orgasm as well.

«Where are you going?» Minho watched with furrowed brows as you were trying get up from the armchair, despite the ache in your thighs.

«Uh,» you mumbled, looking back at him while collecting your thoughts, «Don’t take it personally but your face doesn’t exactly scream “cuddles after sex”, so I figured I should get up…» Minho simply stared at you as if you were a ghost, before eventually erupting into a laugh, holding your wrist and tugging you on his lap once again; immediately his hands were around your waist.

«Don’t tell anyone,» Minho whispered as if it was confessing an extremely dangerous secret, «but I love cuddles.»

«I swear, you’re doing nothing in trying not to make me fall for you.» you whined, staring at the wall and eventually readjusting your position, so that you’d lay your head in the crook of Minho’s neck.

«Do it, then,» due to inertia, your head followed his shoulder’s movement as he shrugged; your eyes widened and your heart picked up pace once again, as you heard him say, «Fall for me.»

Minho ended up staying the night, and leaving before daylight – and Jarette, came.

One week later, Jarette was frantically running back home with the only goal to find you; she ran into your room, not bothering to knock, and you watched your friend with a confused expression.

«Hi?» you tried, waiting for her to catch her breath and explain herself.

«I’ve got some news, but you won’t like them.» Jarette said, her breath still uneven; you nodded, urging her to go on, «Promise me you won’t freak out…» she said, «They caught Minho.» you didn’t hear what she said next, because you stood up, and ran towards the village’s square.

It took you all your strength not to run next to the village’s chief and beg him to let Minho go, especially since you realized by the way he had been tied up that he had been tortured. Minho’s gaze shortly met yours, and your heart sank at the fact that his expression didn’t change; he was blatantly pretending not to know you in order to protect you, but in that moment, you couldn’t care less. 

As you were about to walk your way out of the crowd, two different hands stopped you: one gently pulled on your elbow – you easily recognized Jarette’s touch, while the other was placed on your shoulder. Immediately, you turned around to see an unfamiliar face, his hair dark brown and his features just as handsome as Minho’s. Your gazes met briefly, and as your eyes met glimmering red ones, you realized that he was probably Minho’s friend; he tilted his head back, and you noticed that there was a small group of vampires sitting on a house’s rooftop, not actually bothering to hide their presence. 

The fact that Minho wasn’t alone and was clearly about to be rescued made you momentarily feel better, but your happiness ended up being an incredibly fleeting feeling, as you heard Minho’s sudden pained groan. 

«He is the responsible of the attacks!» one of the hunter said, before he turned towards the village’s chief, «He’s the one that killed your daughter, yesterday night.» 

Clenching your fists, you gritted your teeth at the point you were probably going to have a headache; you knew Minho’s friends had everything under control, but you couldn’t shut up. As the village’s chief ordered his immediate execution, you pushed your way in front of the crowd.

«He is not the culprit.» you said, successfully capturing everyone’s attention, Minho glanced at you, his face unreadable.

«Shut up, human.» Minho sighed, faking a disinterested tone even if the truth was that he was terrified that you’d get yourself killed as well.

The village’s chief was quick to ask you what you knew about the matter, and you tried your best to ignore the murmurs shared among the people watching; you realized that you didn’t have a plan, but perhaps, you could suffice as a distraction and actually help Minho’s friends.  

«I know he didn’t kill the chief’s daughter because he never walked past the village’s borders.» you said, sure about your intentions to protect the man you loved, «And the reason I know, is because I was with him.»

From there, it happened as a blur; the chief ordered to execute you as well, claiming you were a traitor, but luckily, Minho’s friends immediately intervened, taking advantage of the confusion created by the people which were screaming, in order to take both you and Minho and run away.

Less than two hours later, you found yourself in the vampires’ shared mansion, taking care of an unconscious Minho.

«He’s going to heal soon, don’t worry.» one of them – Chris, reassured you, and you simply nodded, your hand never letting go of Minho’s. Slim arms circled your waist, and you relaxed, leaning back into Jarette’s comforting embrace.

«You still have to explain me why you came along,» you wondered, «You’ll be considered a traitor as well.» Jarette chuckled to herself, briefly explaining you that his one week long mission to the Capital was a lie.

«Remember Changbin?» she said, and your head snapped towards her at the speed of light.

«The, “my room is at the end of the corridor if you need anything”, Changbin? That Changbin?» you shrieked, pointing to the general direction of the vampire’s room; Jarette nodded shyly at you, and you playfully hit her arm, offended about the fact that she kept something like this a secret.

«We met recently,» she explained, «he’s-»

«Please,» Minho’s pained groan interrupted the two of you, «I’m not ready to overhear the two of you talking about eventual feedbacks on Changbin’s dick.» with fatigue, he propped himself on his elbows, and Jarette politely left the two of you alone and you helped Minho rearrange his position on the cushions, carefully avoiding to touch any of his wounds.

«Where did that brilliant idea come from, you idiot,» you expected to be scolded from him but, contrarily to the expectations, Minho’s words were full of concern, «don’t do it, ever again.» you didn’t answer, hoping that he’d somehow got the hint that you were ready to do that if he ever got in danger again.

«Promise me.» Minho spoke gently, both his hands framing your face so that you had no choice but look at him; in the end, you gave in with a sigh after the fifth time he asked you not to risk your life again.

«I love you, stubborn vampire.» you admitted, running your fingertips on his delicate features.

«I love you too, impossible human.» Minho smiled gently, connecting your lips in a brief kiss.

If few months ago you were terrified about the option of giving up what you’ve always believed in for the sake of a vampire, now you were completely aware that if anyone ever gave you the possibility to turn back time, you would have always ended up choosing Minho.

One year later, you asked Minho to turn you into a vampire on a spring morning; as the cherry trees were in bloom, your new life begun. 

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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[thearvariblues]

Pit Babe Anniversary Week 1 - Drive!

Also on AO3

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The door of Pete’s car slams shut the second Way plants his plump ass onto the front passenger seat. That doesn’t indicate that he’s in the best of moods, of course, but it doesn’t stop Pete from smiling brightly.

“So how did it–”

“Drive,” Way orders.

“Uhm,” Pete blinks. “But shouldn’t we wait for Babe to get in?”

“I’m in!” Babe announces as he, shuts the back door. “Thanks again for helping me, P’Way, you truly are my best friend!”

“So… It went well?” Pete asks.

“Drive,” Way repeats. “Now. We need to get out of here as fast as possible.”

“Hang on,” Pete frowns. “We’re not stealing the ring, are we?”

“No, we just have to be far away from here before Babe–”

“Actually,” Babe murmurs. “Don’t you think that slightly more expensive one might have been better?”

“Drive!” Way whines. “He’s changing his mind again!”

“Hang on,” Babe says. “Just a minute, I’m gonna–”

Way turns around and grabs his friend’s hand.

“Sit!” he snaps, putting his powers into the word. “Pete. Let’s get out of here. Please, my love?”

Pete starts the car just as Babe opens his mouth, seeming extremely offended.

“Did you just–”

“I warned you, didn’t I?” Way growls. “I told you, if you change your mind one ore time, I will either get you out of there using my powers, or straight up murder you, depending on my mood. Well, you should consider yourself lucky, as we’ve just gotten the back seats cleaned and I’m not willing to pay the absolutely outrageous price to get it done again.”

“Technically, I paid for it,” Pete peeps.

“Why…” Babe frowns. “Why did you need to get the back seats cleaned?”

“Oh, remember the fancy party last week?” Way grins. “When I wore those stilettos and the nice suit that showed off my tits and when we were leaving Sonic said he wonders if we’re gonna make it home before Pete inevitably bends me in half and fucks me into oblivion?”

“Y-yeah?”

“We didn’t make it home.”

Babe’s eyes go wide and the expression on his face suggests that he wishes he was able to levitate.

“P’Way!” he groans. “How could you–”

“Are you suggesting you have never let me sit somewhere where you and Charlie fucked? Not even in your home? On your couch? Chair? The kitchen counters?”

“I always tell you not to sit on the kitchen counters!”

“Fair point,” Way nods. “Anyway. Babe. My dear. The ring is perfect, the more expensive one was ugly as hell, and Charlie’s gonna love this one, so stop overthinking it, or I’ll really murder you. Okay?”

“Way,” Pete sighs. “Think about the seats.”

“Isn’t there another fancy fundraiser or something next week?” Way asks. “We’re gonna have them cleaned afterwards, anyway.”

“True. In that case… Go off, baby, enjoy your murder.”

“No!” Babe shouts. “No, I’m not overthinking anything! We’ve picked the perfect one and Charlie is gonna adore it and I am not thinking about any other ring we saw today!”

“There were at least fifty of them,” Way mutters to Pete.

“Yeah, I wondered what’s taking you so long,” Pete chuckles. “An hour and a half to pick an engagement ring sounds… a little excessive, you know.”

“Only when it’s Babe. You know, my love, when you decide to propose to me, I expect you to spend at least two hours to pick the perfect ring.”

“My love,” Babe snorts from the back seat, “when he’s proposing to you, he just needs to take the most expensive one and you’ll be good.”

“Slander,” Way mutters, pulling his phone out of his jacket. “Now tell me. When and how are you planning to do this?”

“Why?” Babe frowns.

“Oh, come on. I’m your friend. I gotta know when I should… keep my fingers crossed for you. You know?”

“Right,” Babe nods. “Okay. So I was thinking…”

---

Way frowns at the gadget on the grass in front of him, surrounded by the whole X-Hunter team (minus Charlie and Babe, obviously).

“Is that a fucking drone, Sonic?”

“Of course it’s a fucking drone, P’Way,” Sonic replies, rolling his eyes. “How else would we get the absolutely best shots?”

“It’s totally necessary,” North agrees. “I mean, what were we supposed to do, sneak through the grass by the track with our phones? I don’t think that would have worked.”

“Oh, I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Way groans.

“Told you not to get the intel for them, didn’t I?” Alan scoffs. “Didn’t I, Way?”

“Yes, P’Alan, you did,” Way sighs. “In my defense, I couldn’t have known they were gonna drag in a drone. How did you even get one?!”

“Come on. They’re not hard to come by. Or that expensive. Jeff has one, too, don’t you, kid?”

“Uhm,” Jeff confirms, his cheeks immediately going red.

“It even looks kinda similar to this one. Isn’t that funny, kid?”

“Yeah,” Jeff gulps. “Funny.”

“Hang on. Jeff?”

“Yes, Uncle?”

Alan narrows his eyes at the boy, then at the drone on the ground.

“Is that your drone?!”

“I mean. Maybe? Kinda? Yes?”

Alan sighs, shakes his head and turns back to Way.

“This is what happens when you get dragged into the children’s bullshit, you know,” he says.

“Hey,” Kim groans. “I hope you’re not counting me as a kid. I did nothing. I didn’t even want to be here, but Sonic said I could either go with him willingly, or he’ll have P’Way mind control me to make me go anyway.”

“He’ll have me do what?” Way frowns.

“Let’s face it,” Kim shrugs. “That wouldn’t be that much worse than you telling the whole goddamn team that Babe’s gonna propose after the practice today, therefore ruining one of the most important moments in his life.”

“In my defense, I had no idea they’re planning on filming said moment,” Way argues. “I just thought they wanted to see it and then… go get drunk?”

“You had no idea?” Alan blinks. “It’s Sonic we’re talking about!”

Both men turn to the little social media star in question, who smiles brightly and lifts his hand to wave his fingers at them.

“Yeah. Sonic. That’s me,” he states. “Bringing us publicity, all for free I’d like to add. Now, where is that P’Babe? We don’t have the whole day!”

“The whole day for what?” asks Babe’s voice right next to the group.

“P’Babe!” North exclaims as the whole team promptly turns towards their star driver. “And Charlie! We didn’t hear you coming!”

“Yeah, it looked like you were busy arguing,” Charlie grins, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “Oh, is that Jeff’s drone? Are we gonna be shooting a new promo for the team?”

“Something like that,” Sonic nods. “It’ll definitely brig us many, many views and… What the hell is that?!”

“What? This? Oh. Well.” Charlie’s grin gets even wider as he lowers his hand to show off the diamond ring on his finger. “We’re engaged!”

“Yeah,” Babe chuckles. “It didn’t go exactly the way I planned, it was kind of an accident, you see, I left the ring in my jacket pocket–”

“Of course you did,” Way groans.

“Yeah, and Charlie wanted to borrow the jacket and he found it, so I kinda had no choice but… Well. To propose. It was nice, though, wasn’t it, Charlie?”

“It was,” the boy nods. “Very romantic.”

“Yeah. I mean. It was probably for the best, too,” Babe shrugs. “At least we didn’t have to wait to properly celebrate it, if you know what I mean.”

“We all know exactly what you mean, Babe, yeah,” Alan mutters.

“Do we?” Sonic frowns. “Oh. Oh, he meant fucking, didn’t he.”

“What else?” Babe chuckles. “I wouldn’t dare to start partying without the rest of the team.”

“Partying?” North says. “Did you say partying?”

“Well, yeah,” Charlie laughs. “We thought that after the practice, we could–”

“Party!” Sonic yells, clearly having forgotten all about the viral proposal video he didn’t get the chance to shoot.

“Sonic. Focus,” Kim sighs. “The party’s gonna be after the practice. After!”

“But I don’t wanna practice!” Sonic whines. “Jeff! Jeff, can you talk Uncle into letting us skip the boring part and just go drinking? We need to celebrate!”

“Uncle,” Jeff mutters, “can you please let them skip the practice today, since if you make them practice, they’ll crash at least one car and we can’t really afford to keep replacing them?”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Alan nods. “We can practice tomorrow. You kids are right, this calls for a celebration. Congratulations, Babe, by the way. And Charlie, of course.”

“Thanks, uncle,” Babe beams. “What about the promotional video, though?”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Alan smirks. “Sonic can shoot it tomorrow, too, can’t you, Sonic?”

“I…” Sonic starts, then changes his mind when Way gently kicks him in the ankle. “Yeah, sure. No problem. The lighting is kinda shit today, anyway. I’m sure tomorrow will be much better.”

“In that case,” North beams. “Let’s go party!”

“But–” Kim starts, only to immediately be dragged away by and excited North, while a similarly excited Sonic kidnaps Jeff and Charlie.

“Hey!” Babe yells after them. “That’s my future husband you’ve taken!”

“You snooze, you loose!” Sonic yells back. “I wanna hear all about that proposal! Meet you at the bar!”

Alan sighs, shaking his head. “Kids these days.”

“My future husband,” Babe repeats, pouting slightly.

“Don’t worry,” Way chuckles. “I’m sure they’re not gonna hurt him. Much.”

“P’Way!”

“Sorry. I take it he liked the ring, then?”

“He loved it. Thanks for helping me pick it, P’Way. I owe you one, and I will pay you back when it’s time for your ring.”

“Babe, my dear. When it’s time for my ring, I won’t be the one picking it.”

“Right. Yes,” Babe replies, nodding so quickly that it makes Alan frown at him suspiciously. Way, however, doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” he says, smiling at his friend. “Congratulations, Babe. You did it. You’re gonna be getting married.”

“I… Yeah,” Babe grins. “Yes, I will.”

“Okay, then,” Alan laughs. “Let’s go save your future husband from Sonic and North.”

[dreadark]

Originium Arts Assimilation

it’s this thing

(joke)

you can assume it’s a measure of how well someone can use Originium Arts, and as far as I can tell it’s an innate biological characteristic that can’t be improved by training. however it can change, usually by how Oripathy improves most Infected’s ability to use Arts (though not always, as with Earthspirit and Astesia)

most operators have a Normal/Standard rating. usually casters and other Arts users will have an Excellent/Outstanding rating. and then Amiya has a mysterious ■■ rating, and Rosmontis has...something else

(Arknights’s physical exam ratings are Flawed < Normal < Standard < Excellent < Outstanding)

so the “Flawed” rating is notable here. in fact you can broadly separate all* the operators with that into having a connection to Feranmut or Seaborn

Feranmut

Feranmut obviously have some kind of powers, but are noted to specifically not be Originium Arts. as Closure says, “[Dusk] has 'no connection' to Originium whatsoever”

Nian, Dusk, Ling: they’re fragments of Sui, self-explanatory

Kjera: an incarnation of Kjeragandr, self-explanatory

Surtr: ...this one’s more complicated

Invitation to Wine has this bit:

suspiciously specifically mentioning ancient Sarkaz swords

Surtr’s sword is noted to be the source of her power, since she doesn’t use any Originium Arts, and the sword somehow also prevents her Oripathy from worsening Surtr has a condition where she has a bunch of memories that aren’t her own, so much so that she can’t even recall what her own memories are anymore. which sounds pretty similar to what started happening with Lee after he picked up the goblet with part of the second Sui brother in it

conclusion: there’s a Feranmut dwelling in the sword, and since Surtr picked it up she’s been affected by it

though unlike Lee and the Sui brother, this one doesn’t seem to be intentionally taking her over? they’re friends :)

at least that’s what I’ll roll with until they give Surtr an event in 2025. aha...

Seaborn

for this one I’ll be using Seaborn and Sea Terror interchangeably, everyone just calls them all Seaborn anyway and there’s a few references to CN-only stuff, considering Highmore

Skadi, Specter, Gladiia: the Abyssal Hunters are revealed to be created by Aegir(nation) by somehow combining Aegir(people) with Seaborn

Gladiia’s a lead on this project, but Skadi didn’t seem to know about being part Seaborn until the events of Under Tides

Specter is unique among these since she’s also infected. she was injected with enough Originium to kill a town, but her Seaborn blood lets her resist Oripathy so she didn’t immediately explode  this also means despite being infected, she can’t use Arts at all as Gladiia’s profile puts it, they’re “insulated” from Originium (I’d guess she wouldn’t get infected normally either)

Mizuki, Highmore: also Aegir+Seaborn hybrids, but created by the Church of the Deep 

the process is probably different somehow; both the Hunters and these two have enhanced strength and are insulated from Originium, but the Hunters have their characteristic red eyes+white hair, while Mizuki/Highmore are more integrated into the Seaborn “hivemind” (at least that’s the cult’s goal)

these two were coincidentally both created by the same bishop Cicero, but he considers Mizuki a perfect creation while Highmore is a failure. probably because Mizuki accepted his Seaborn side and his way of thinking pretty much aligns with them, but Highmore rejected it and ended up turning into [the IS3 boss]

so being “imperfect” she has visible Seaborn cells on her arm, while Mizuki looks entirely like an ordinary Aegir

(probably shouldn’t get too into this before she’s in global but I just really like Highmore...)

oh and Mizuki’s abilities to cause hallucinations aren’t Originium Arts, but somehow a biological thing

Andreana: now here’s the slightly less straightforward case

she’s part of the Abyssal Hunter faction, but she doesn’t know the other Hunters. she’s similarly unable to use Originium Arts, but while she’s stronger than the average person she’s nowhere near Skadi’s superhuman strength

a drop of ink vs an inkwell you can just take that pretty literally I think; Andreana just has a lot less Seaborn in her, so the associated traits she has aren’t as strong

as for how she got this way, there’s a few allusions to her being experimented on when she was a kid. in her module she remembers “someone wrapped in the smell of the sea, a robed Iberian” being involved, which is almost definitely a member of the Church of the Deep

conclusion: she’s one of the cult’s earlier experiments with combining Aegir and Seaborn

Gladiia’s operator record reveals the cult does experiments on Aegir who come to their churches for medical assistance, so I’d guess her mother took her to them when she was young and this ended up happening so...why is she classified as an Abyssal Hunter, when Mizuki and Highmore who are also Aegir-Seaborn hybrids created by the cult aren’t?

because of gameplay. now she can buff the other Hunters and receive their buffs ...that’s it, there’s nothing to suggest she's actually related to Aegir’s “Abyssal Hunter” project. she doesn’t even have the white hair/red eyes

until HG finally remembers she exists and gives her a story to contradict this, maybe. but I’d be happy with her existing at all...

*exceptions

Matterhorn

I mentioned it before but I really have no clue. he’s just like that

Deepcolor

as finally confirmed by her operator record, she is part-Seaborn just like the others (though she wasn’t even experimented on by Aegir or the cult...a Herald just gave her a “gift” directly, so that’s something. the two Heralds we know of are First to Talk and Endspeaker for reference.)

and since she is, she should have a “Flawed” rating here

so there’s 2 possible explanations for this discrepancy:

one, she’s a launch character they didn’t bother expanding on properly for 3.5 years. so they might not have had all this in mind at all when initially creating her

or two, she bsed her way through the operator exam and somehow tricked the tested into thinking she was using Originium Arts instead of.. whatever powers she has(??) they do make a point of how her casting method is weird and no one else can understand it, so

I’m inclined to go with the first one just because of how much they mention her skill with originium but Deepcolor is still so mysterious so who knows...

**wanted to mention the Blood Originium-Crystal Density of everyone but couldn’t find a good place to mention it, so it’s here now. wish I could put a readmore in a readmore

if you look through most uninfected operator profiles, the average is about 0.12-0.14 u/L

Dusk/Ling/Kjera all have 0.00 (Nian probably does too but she’s avoided physicals)

Surtr, despite being infected only has 0.10 u/L I assume she got infected before getting the sword, and it’s either keeping the progression of her Oripathy at bay or maybe even treating it

Gladiia has 0.011... Originium doesn’t exist in the sea though, so it could be because she only came up to land recently

Skadi has 0.013, which actually decreases to 0.012 in her alt. ignoring the special circumstances of her alt, I think her Seaborn cells might be “cleaning” the originium in her blood? 

Specter has 0.31 which increases to 0.34 in her alt. pretty standard numbers for an infected, but the progress of her Oripathy is notedly slower

Mizuki has 0.07 and Highmore has 0.08. these are lower than average, but not as low as Skadi/Gladiia, probably because these two aren’t from Aegir we don’t have a physical of before their transformation, but my guess is the same as Skadi’s; their Seaborn cells are decreasing this value

Andreana has 0.12, which is...totally normal I guess the tiny Seaborn part of her only fucked up her ability to use Arts but didn’t give her any resistance to this. RIP

[ghostofskywalker]

Call It Even - 2

Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,703

Summary: Instead of returning to the Empire after the destruction of Kamino, Crosshair reunites with his brothers and sister on the Havoc Marauder. But there’s a new member of the team that he wasn’t expecting, and the two of you don’t see eye to eye, so why is he so fixated on the fact that you got along so well with everyone else?

Note: this marks the end of this little series! i hope you've enjoyed it :)

Clone Troopers Masterlist

In the days following your conversation in the cockpit, Crosshair expected things between you and him to not change too much. Yeah, you had agreed to not argue, but he didn’t expect you to ever seek him out or act in any way but tiredly cordial around him when you came into contact with him. But that was apparently not the case, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

Instead of glaring at him when he stepped in to make a cup of caf after he woke up, you smiled and wished him a good morning. You didn’t bat an eye when Wrecker invited him to sit with you two at breakfast one day, and something tugged at his heartstrings, leading him to actually accept his brother’s offer. What you said that night had rung true, you weren’t his best friend, but you also didn’t treat him like an outsider either, and sometimes he wondered whether or not he deserved that kindness from you, after all that he’s done.

One thing that hadn’t changed since your conversation was the strange feeling in his stomach whenever he remembered your sleeping situation. It had to be jealousy, there was no other way to describe how he reacted, but he didn’t understand it and he couldn’t even admit his feelings to himself, let alone his brothers. He had never been good at expressing his feelings, and he knew that he couldn’t spring this on you at random, as you had just started to become friends with him, an out of the blue love confession (if that’s even what this feeling was) could send you running the other way.

He discreetly tried to figure out if you and Echo were anything more than teammates, or if you both just had a natural disposition to cuddling and a tendency to get cold while you slept. As far as he (or any other member of the team) was aware, there was nothing going on between you and the ARC trooper, which allowed Crosshair to feel a fleeting glimmer of hope, that maybe something good could come from all this. But as much as he tried to keep his feelings a secret, he obviously wasn’t doing a very good job at it, because Hunter approached him about it, not-so-subtly telling him that he should do something about the way he felt, no matter how much Crosshair denied those emotions.

They were on their way to a market to replenish rations, ship parts, and medical supplies, and Hunter organized the team very specifically to make sure that he and Crosshair were working together to get the medical supplies. Tech, Wrecker, and Omega were to get anything they might need for the ship, and you and Echo were on ration duty.

Hunter must have seen Crosshair’s expression as you and Echo walked off into the crowded market, because once they were out of earshot, he spoke his mind. “You really need to make a move or something.”

“What are you talking about?”

But not even his sullen glare was enough to stop Hunter from continuing with this line of conversation. “Her and Echo aren’t together, and I know you know that, so what’s stopping you from telling her how you feel?”

“I am not having this conversation with you right now,” he said. “I only asked if-”

“You said you wanted to make sure they weren’t up to any funny business while the rest of us were sleeping, but I don’t think that’s true,” Hunter said. “Because the combination of lovesickness and jealousy you look at her with is not helping your case.” Hunter made an exaggerated face, clearly parodying his brother while also trying to hold in his laughter.

“I don’t look like that,” Crosshair snapped. “And I don’t have any feelings for her, no matter what you seem to think you see.”

Thankfully, Hunter knew enough to drop the subject there. “Alright, I won’t bother you about this again. But just promise me that you’ll stop lying to yourself about how you feel, because it can’t be healthy.”

Of course it would have been a miracle had Crosshair listened to the advice of his brother, but it didn’t happen in this situation. Instead, he just kept his feelings in and glared at anyone who tried to broach the subject.

This was supposed to be a quick job, and in-and-out mission that scored them some extra cash and favor with Cid, but it seemed that things never turned out that way. What they had previously thought to be just a mining facility had actually turned out to be a weapons factory for the former separatist army, and some of the Super Battle Droids were still active.

You insisted on making sure you got what the team had come for, and it was what hurt you in the end. Package in your hand, you stopped to radio in to the rest of the batch when a blast from one of the battle droids caught you in the thigh, searing through the loose pants you wore and burning your skin. Two more blasts hit your back, singing your robes and it was clear to anyone that this was not something you could simply walk off.

Crosshair had to watch from his perch up high as you crumpled to the ground, and immediately he began to kick himself. Why hadn’t he seen that droid’s blaster before it was too late? What if you never recovered from this? He radioed to the rest of the team your position, and kept watch for any more droids as Wrecker gently picked you up and carried you away from the action.

By the time he made it back to the Havoc Marauder, Crosshair was in full worry mode. Part of him didn’t even understand his natural reaction to the situation: he had never felt this way about anyone else, so why was this so different? But there was another part of him that did understand, and it was the same part of him that agreed with what Hunter had told him a little while ago in that market. He knew how he felt about you, and he could no longer ignore it.

He had to stop himself from shoving Tech aside to see you, but Echo had made it very clear that no one was to bother him while he was patching up your wounds. Hunter was already in there to offer assistance, and so Crosshair was relegated to the cockpit, keeping the ship steady and bringing it into hyperspace as they set course hack to Ord Mantell. He could hear Wrecker and Omega talking quietly from the gunner’s nest, Wrecker clearly trying to console the young girl and tell her that everything would work out, and he found himself desperately wishing that you were okay and wanting to express his sorrow in the same way they were.

After what felt like forever, Hunter and Echo emerged from the makeshift medbay on the ship with positive news: you wounds had been treated with bacta and you were going to make a full recovery. Tech returned with them, taking control of the ship from Crosshair.

“She’s sleeping right now, but do you want to see her?” Hunter asked his brother quietly, as if it were some big secret how he felt. Crosshair didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded and stepped away before Hunter or Echo could change their minds.

The makeshift medical bay was actually one of the bunks, with the curtains around it pulled to maintain some level of privacy. He gently pulled back on the linens and stepped closer to your bedside, eyes desperately searching your face for some reassurance, although it never came.

Your face, while not contorted in pain, was almost startlingly blank as you slept, turned on your side as to not crush the bandages on your back and legs. He wanted to reach out and take your hand, he wanted to offer comfort in any way he could, but he didn’t. It was like his body stopped working as he looked at you, and he hated the feeling of hopelessness and blame that he assigned himself after this happened.

And like anyone who doesn’t really know how to handle their feelings does, he immediately decided that he never wanted to experience that again, even if he was to deny himself the joy and positive aspects of love. And so as he stepped away from the bed and pulled the curtains to once again obscure your sleeping form from his view, he made a pact with himself to get over whatever he felt for you.

***

Getting over you turned out to be the same thing as avoiding you, and Crosshair hated it. But he hated that feeling of hopelessness even more, so he kept to it. Now, instead of eating breakfast with you and Wrecker each morning, he woke up earlier and ate. He found any excuse to be away from you, no matter how much it broke him to do so. His rifle had never looked cleaner and he was a frequent flier in the refresher, even if he just stood there and stared at himself for a few minutes before returning to the rest of the ship.

He didn’t think anyone had noticed his sudden change in routine, because every day on the ship went the same as always. You still ate breakfast with Wrecker, you still spent time with the others, and you still slept in the same bunk as Echo. That was still the most painful part of all this for Crosshair, because he accidentally allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if he was the one you cuddled up to every night. He didn’t realize how stupid he was being by acting like this, and it only served to hurt him more than if he actually admitted to you how he felt.

But apparently Crosshair had underestimated his brothers’ attentiveness to his feelings, because the next time they stopped to refuel, Hunter once again organized the team in a way that made it obvious that it was intentional.

Wrecker, Omega, and Hunter were in charge of getting more medical supplies, as many of them had been used while you were in recovery. Echo and Tech were looking for some hyper-specific part that would apparently make the ship run twice as smooth on half the fuel. Which meant that you and Crosshair were in charge of replenishing the ration supply.

Hunter had to have noticed the way Crosshair had shrunk back into the shadows after you were injured, and this had to be some half contrived way of his to try and get him to admit his feelings. But he didn’t say anything, instead shooting a private glare of disdain at his brother to communicate his feelings about the pairing.

The only sound between you and him was that of your boots hitting the ground as you walked around the market, and it seemed that you and Crosshair were almost goading each other to see which one would crack first.

The only exception was when you and him arrived at a stall selling small round fruits, and you turned to speak to the vendor. “Do these will hold up well in storage?” you asked. “I’m looking for something that travels well.”

The vendor smiled and started to tell you about the best way to keep his product for ensured freshness, and Crosshair just zoned out. The sound of your voice, although not exactly the same as he remembered, was bringing back all those uncomfortable feelings that he didn’t want to admit to himself.

It was love, he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

But how could he be in love with a Jedi? Would you even be allowed to return his feelings? He knew that just because the Jedi Temple was now a pile of crumbling ashes that was ruining the visual aesthetic of Coruscant’s top level, it didn’t mean that you were going to automatically forsake the way that you had lived your entire life.

You didn’t speak to him for the entire time that you shopped for rations together, other than the occasional question about his brothers’ preferences and whether or not he thought something was a good price. But as you and him were walking the dirt road back to the ship, you finally broke the silence. “Did I do something to hurt you?”

At first, the question threw him off guard. This was his issue, it had nothing to do with you. “What are you talking about?” he asked, not sure how else to respond, how else to explain his actions.

“I think you know,” you said, clearly not in the mood to dance around the issue. “I thought we had a truce.”

“We do.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” you asked quietly, and he could hear the way your voice shook slightly, giving away how you really felt. “I thought we were getting closer, and then you started pulling away from me, and your brothers too. Wrecker asked me why you don’t eat breakfast with us anymore, and I didn’t know what to say, because I had no idea why. I didn’t expect to be your best friend, but I didn’t think I was that terrible to spend time with.”

The look on your face stopped him from speaking right away. Immediately, he regretted his actions because of the pain that they had brought you. And it had caused him pain too, he couldn’t ignore. “You’re not,” he responded.

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Because after you got hurt, I blamed myself. I was up high, I should have seen that droid coming,” he said, the words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them. “And I’ve been having all these feelings that scared me so kriffing much, so I listened to my natural instincts and removed myself from the situation.”

There was a few moments of silence before you spoke in return, and you focused on the one part of his sentence that he didn’t want to admit to. “What do you mean you’ve been having feelings?”

“It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t be able to return them anyway.”

He expected you to stare at him in shock, or drop the subject and suggest they return to the marauder, not take his hand in yours and lean in. When your lips made contact with his cheek, he instantly decided that he never wanted to forget how good it felt. “Crosshair,” you said quietly as he looked up from the ground and into your eyes. “I like you too, if that’s what you were implying.”

“But-”

“The Jedi Code was never something I followed completely,” you said, a soft smile on your face. “And I will always mourn the way of life that I lost when the Empire rose, but I don’t wish to hide my attachments anymore. Because when we started to grow closer, I felt myself falling for you.”

Crosshair couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I think you had a lapse of judgment there.”

You leaned closer to him, and he leaned in too. “I don’t care what you think of yourself Crosshair, but you deserve love just as much as any other person.”

“I don’t-”

You squeezed his hand and glared at him. “You don’t get to make that call. And I know you don’t think I’m telling the truth right now, but I am. You are just as deserving of love as anyone else.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, lips hovering above yours but still too far away to feel anything. He didn’t care that they were in the middle of the road, or that any of his brothers could walk up at any moment and see them like this. All he cared about was you.

“Please,” your voice was quiet and slightly breathy, and he didn’t wait long to oblige.

Forget the feeling of you kissing his cheek, the feeling of your lips on his was a memory he never wanted to let go of, no matter what happened.

- the end - 

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[kobeniliker]

Chapter 133 of CSM has a lot going on and I love that but here’s a longpost about Yoshida Hirofumi because he’s a really interesting and important character in part 2 so far, but we know very little about him! 

Chapter 133 makes Yoshida’s affiliation clearer, it seems that he is working with Public Safety. And based on his coworker’s response to his distress, it seems he isn’t being taken seriously.

I dunno, that guy doesn’t seem like he’s (Guy in the suit walking the dogs) trying to kill Nayuta. He seems pretty chill, wheras Yoshida is freaking out. I think Yoshida was lying to Denji about the threat to kill Nayuta. Which would make sense! It would be stupid to kill Nayuta, public saftey probably knows this as they know firsthand how powerful both Makima/The Control Devil and Denji/Chainsaw man are.

I think that Yoshida is genuinely trying to protect Denji in his own way, but I don’t think that public safety knows/cares about what he’s trying to do. He’s basically just making himself more important and inserting himself into Denji’s life because he wants to be friends with Denji and does not know how to make friends.

This is pretty telling, especially given Yoshida’s attitude towards other characters. He’s polite even if a bit blunt, but never friendly. Nor does he make any effort to be, except with maybe Kishibe. And Denji, obviously. He shows up, does his job, and leaves. 

Yoshida doesn’t have an official backstory, but based on what we know about him there’s a few things that stick out. 

He’s a prodigy devil hunter, was well-known enough for Makima to hire him, and he held his own in a fight against Quanxi.

He’s around the same age as Denji (Being able to transfer into Denji’s High School, mentioning having to study for finals)

He cares greatly about Denji, even if it’s just because of his job.

None of the other characters know much about him either (except maybe Kishibe, he seems to be a mentor figure)

I think his situation is probably similar to Aki’s, in that he lost his family and felt Devil Hunting was the only thing he could do. While some people choose to become devil hunters, it isn’t a great job and most people would choose something else if they could. There has been no mention of Yoshida’s family. He has enough money to treat Denji at the cafe, but (reasonably) complains when Fami orders the whole menu. People at school only seem to know him as “that guy who’s a devil hunter”.

He probably started devil hunting at an early age based on how skilled he is, and while he goes to school he doesn’t seem to have any friends. If he was constantly training and fighting in between going to school, he probably never made friends. And from his job, he probably saw a lot of people die in front of him and had to kill a lot. Similar to Denji, but Yoshida’s family is a mystery and he seemingly was taken in by Kishibe or another Public Safety member and was able to go to school.

I think he’s similar to Makima in that he wants to have connections and relationships with people but goes about it in a horrible way. I also think he’s an interesting parallel to Denji, who is always up-front about what he wants. Yoshida has never given any obvious indication to his motives outside of “protect Denji” (And even that’s unclear what that means to him!). He hides all of his emotions under an unchanging smile that I was genuinely surprised when he got visibly angry this chapter.

Killing a man in an alleyway:  :)

Being trapped in an infinite aquarium:  :)

Talking to one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse:  :)

Denji being stubborn asking a group of protesters to kill Yoshida:  >:(

The panel after Denji yells that he wants the protestors to kill Yoshida. I think that’s the first time Yoshida looks genuinely hurt. Bro looks like he got stabbed and hes dying. Even though Yoshida knows he is in no danger from the protestors, they don’t know Denji is chainsaw man and they probably didn’t hear him either. He just gets irritated when Denji says he wants to be Chainsaw man and have Nayuta alive or when he thinks Denji is being dumb. 

What really stuck out to me was his reaction. He’s irritated before, but after that he really gets visibly upset. Sure Denji has insulted him and threatened him before, but he never made any move to actually do anything. But Yoshida knows that Denji probably thought that he could kill Yoshida by yelling at the protestors, Denji expressed that he genuinely wanted Yoshida gone, and there is nothing Yoshida can do to make him stay. 

Which is pretty understandable, Yoshida has kidnapped and stalked Denji, and even if he has good intentions that’s just creepy and he shouldn’t do that! 

I think that by trying to prevent Denji from ever transforming into chainsaw man, he is, in his own way, trying to prevent the prophecy from being fulfilled. Fami wants to prevent it by killing chainsaw man, because she thinks that the prophecy can’t be fulfilled if there is no chainsaw man. Which is probably what Yoshida is thinking, but he doesn’t want to kill Denji and he doesn’t want an age of devils to arrive, and Yoshida doesn’t want to choose between the two.

So he’s trying to prevent chainsaw man from existing by trying to convince Denji to have a normal life, and Denji doesn’t want to choose between the two.

But if Denji chooses both options, to be chainsaw man and have Nayuta in a normal life, Yoshida thinks he will have to choose to kill chainsaw man or live in an age of devils, which he doesn’t want either of.

I think it’s just interesting about all the choices!!! I also think Yoshida and Denji have a lot of similarities. I’m also biased towards Yoshida since I think he’s super neat so I also could just be making up excuses for him to not turn out to be evil bc I don’t want him to be evil :(

[flyingtornado]

Sometimes, I literally CANNOT with any specific pjo character stans. Ok, I take that back. Specifically Nico stans.

WHY DO THEY BLAME EVERYTHING ON PERCY????

Now, my favourite character is Jason and or Reyna. THEN NICO.

BUT WHY DO THEY PUT THE BLAME OF A CHILD ON ANOTHER CHILD???

No. Bianca’s death was NOT Percy’s fault. It was Zoë’s for advocating Bianca as a quest member when she was just put into the hunters not even a week before. It was Bianca’s for taking the oath of Artemis and entrusting Nico to Camp half-blood. No. It was NOT Percy’s job to protect Nico. It was CHIRON’S. It was only Nico’s perception of Percy being his hero that led him to believe he was more than just two years older than him and also a child. And yet who was the one to tell Nico the news about Bianca’s death? Percy. Nico had a right to be mad at Percy. But Percy never actually promised to protect her. Now, obviously, in the eyes of Nico, it was a promise which his in real life hero had made. Which is why Chiron is in the wrong for making Percy go and tell him. Bianca’s death? Either Zoë’s or Bianca herself’s fault. Nico’s reaction to said death? Strictly Chiron’s.

No. Percy’s reaction after being imprisoned was completely normal AND SO WAS NICO’S. If you put yourself in they’re shoes, either both of them were in the wrong or none of them. Nico didn’t know what Hades would do with Percy, but he STILL GAVE Percy to his father so he could learn more about his mother. Percy had every right to be angry. “Nico was a child!” So was Percy. Percy was also currently freaking out about the war. The war that was happening at that very moment. If what Nico did was fine, so was Percy’s reaction. Imagine this, a kid that you took on a huge prophecy for just so that they didn’t have to carry that burden just sold you out to their father who then took you to a prison cell with no air while you have to worry about your friends up in the real world because, oh, sorry, you’re in the the world of the dead. I THINK ID REACT THE SAME TOO. “But Nico was the one who got Percy out.” So? You’re saying just because the person who lost your trust and hastily got it back means that you’ve automatically forgiven them? Didn’t think so.

No. Percy WAS THE ONLY PERSON WHO AGREED WITH HAZEL WHEN THEY WERE DEBATING WHETHER OR NOT TO SAVE HIM FROM THE JAR. People often times like to put Percy with Jason and Leo when they were debating saving him or not. Percy was right by Hazels side.

Now… this one has recently come to my attention, but people put the blame of Bob being left in Tartarus on Percy? I kid you not, I just saw someone say that it was Percy’s fault that Nico and Will were going to Tartarus. That was literally the post that made me write all of this. I’m not going to say any names but wow. How could you even think that when Percy was the FIRST to advocate himself to stay on Tartarus. Yes, when we first met Bob and found out what PAST Percy did to him, everyone was mad. But Percy showed CLEAR redemption for that. I’m not quite sure what bob was asking, but it had something to do with his memories. Annabeth was quick enough to assure Bob to keep them as they were (not fully there) and yet Percy was the one who remembered back to when he himself lost his memories and told Bob that it was up to him to decide. I feel like that was one of the scenes that really stook out to me in that genre. Back on the topic of it being PERCY’S fault that Bob was stuck in Tartarus, Bob said it himself that even if Percy OR Annabeth stayed, they wouldn’t be strong enough to hold all of the monsters down. It literally HAD to be Bob the one that stayed. Not to mention that Percy quite literally broke down the second they got onto the elevator because his loyalty, yeah, remember how loyalty is his fatal flaw, was flaring up after leaving Bob there. It shows even more how much Nico stans automatically put the blame on Percy any time Nico has to go through something because 1. How would it be PERCY’S fault if it wasn’t even his fault that they fell?? If you want to put the blame on ONE of the people in Tartarus, the most you can say is that it was Annabeth’s fault since she was the reason they fell? I’m not lying when the person said SOLELY Percy’s name in the post that I am talking about when they put the blame on Bob.

There’s probably more, but like I’m too lazy to write anymore.

IMPORTANT!!!

Know that when I wrote this, it was never set out for ALL Nico stans.

When I wrote this, I took into consideration that there are ferocious Percy stans who act like Percy has never done any wrong. He has. But this post was just showing a couple of occasions where some Nico stans constantly put the blame on Percy when it was clearly not his fault.

[cantpickafandomtbh]

no cuz i feel so bad for the collector

like that poor child was manipulated by their siblings and had the first real friends that he felt accepted and loved and welcomed by completely snatched away from them and didn’t understand what had happened to the other Titans and before they could understand, confront or try to save his first real friends, they got trapped

obviously the Titan didn’t know the full story either so no hate to the Titan or anything

but then the Collector spent probably thousands of years trapped alone in the world in between worlds, a place where they couldn’t actually do anything except sit with his own thoughts and be bored out of their mind with vast emptiness to speak to

and then, in order to break themselves out of the prison and enjoy freedom again, they are lucky enough to be found by the “titan hunters” who the Collector tries to use to free himself, but when that chance came, instead of freeing them, the leader of the Huntsmen decides to try to kill the one chance the Collector has at freedom to gain more honor respect and power for himself

and imagine, Belos finds them, asks for his help and promises to play a game and set them free if the Collector just helps Belos kill everyone and with the very little knowledge of what death means to mortals, the Collector agrees because “toys break all the time, you just fix them” and that is just the price of their own freedom and the price they have to pay to have a friend to play with after so long alone, being lied to and manipulated

then Belos betrays him, drops them off a bridge in the hopes of smashing the plate that allows the Collector to communicate with the mortal world

imagine the amount of betrayal and manipulation the poor kid has been through, the very little understanding of life for people who aren’t immortal or semi-immortal because no one has given them a chance to understand

until Luz

when Luz shows up, teaches them about death and then dies in front of him i can’t imagine the amount of confusion and panic they felt. The first person to have been genuinely nice to him in a very, very long time is dead because everyone else was too busy trying to manipulate the Collector into doing something for them to care about teaching them the basics of life

i mean obviously King was probably the Collectors first real friend that we see, but King was also trying to get something from them. Of course King didn’t mean any harm and was actually really nice, but the fact that King was trying desperately not to upset them while also trying to get his friends de-pupitised for a while until he realised that the Collector was just really confused and knew practically nothing about reality probably meant the kindness wasn’t totally genuine

anyways, the more i think about the Collector, the more i understand how utterly horrifying their life experiences have been up until Luz, King and Eda

ALSO THAT LAST END CREDS SCENE

the Collector is growing as a person they wanted to show Luz and the Boiling isles how much he cared and how sorry they were for the events that caused so much damage to their world, (because it was the first birthday Luz had that wasn’t just cleaning up the boiling isles) and that was the Collectors farewell gift, thank you gift and i’m sorry gift all at once

this is why i love the owl house

all the characters are much more complex the more you look at them and it’s brilliant

[burnwater13]

Grogu wondered if he’d ever see Ahsoka Tano again. Would she bump her head against his to better understand his thoughts? Did she realize that he had felt the shame she wore as Anakin’s padawan as readily as she had felt his sense of abandonment? He didn’t know and he was not going to be reaching out to the Force to find out.

He had seen future echoes when he was training at the Jedi Temple as a youngling and he had quickly realized that they were very unreliable. You would see these moments of triumph or despair and think that they meant just that, you would win a thing or fail at a thing and think, ‘That’s great!’, or ‘Oh, No!’. Then when the time came you’d realize that the triumph was cleaning your part of the dormitory before the Masters came in to do their daily inspection. Or the despair was how you felt when you realized that your favorite flavor of ice cream was gone again (yes, other Jedi loved frog flavored things).

Because the future echoes were so unreliable you paid no attention to the ones about never seeing your friends again. Or feeling the pain of their loss. Or disbelieving that anyone as good as Din Djarin might find you and help you find yourself. And that was why Grogu didn’t want to torment himself with understanding what Ahsoka’s future might look like. He already knew he wouldn’t understand it. The Force didn’t give the answers to questions you didn’t know how to ask. 

But he did wonder about her past. How had the Jedi selected her? Did she remember her parents? Did she have friends she missed when she went to the Temple? Did she like her first instructors? Did people pinch her cheeks or pick on her because she reminded them of another Jedi Master? Did she wish she had been different and could have stayed with her family and just been like any other person? Grogu would have liked to ask her those questions now that he had time to think of them. 

What if he and Din Djarin went to Tython and there weren’t any other Jedi? Would she come back then and train him? Did Grogu actually want that any way? He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure meditating or anything else the Jedi had taught him would help with that. 

He and the Mandalorian got along pretty well. Sure, Din Djarin didn’t always like feeding him dung worms and Grogu did not like the smell in the Razor Crest when the bounty hunter took his boots off. Hyperspace was pretty safe for them both, but you couldn’t roll down the windows and get fresh air there either. Yet, they managed to mostly stay out of each other’s way and attend to life’s necessities.

Was that what Ahsoka had been doing with her time? Working on necessities and staying out of the way of people who might accidentally trip her up? That didn’t seem likely to Grogu. She knew who that Morgan Elsbeth person was and clearly didn’t like her. You didn’t need the Force to see that. You really didn’t need the glow of Ahsoka’s lightsabers to see that either. The look of determination in her eyes was enough. 

Grogu remember that once, at the Jedi Temple, when Ahsoka was just a youngling, she had gone sprinting by him while he was studying in the library. The Jedi who managed the library had told her to ‘slow down’, ‘stop running’, and ‘behave like a padawan’ (whatever that meant), but Ahsoka had that same look of determination on her face and she ignored it all. She came out of the library stacks holding at least fifteen different data cards, barely, and paused just long enough to snap at Grogu, ‘what are you looking at?’, and then sprint away, obviously using the Force to keep the data cards from spilling onto the floor. 

Grogu had been impressed by that interaction. But he knew that he couldn’t get away with doing anything like that. Even when he tried to look fierce people had pinched his cheeks and coo’d at him about how adorable he was. He was pretty sure that no one did that Ahsoka Tano. Not then and not now. 

He hoped for her sake that she would learn how to open herself up to people who were important to her and slow down enough so they would know that she really cared about them. She had spent most of that night trying understand Grogu and he could tell that she needed friends as much as he did. He’d gotten lucky and had been found by the Mandalorian. Grogu could only hope that Ahsoka would be found by someone who cared enough to help her be her best self and not the one who kept trying to prove that she could do everything. 

He remembered that when he had left the library in his floating seat, he’d passed by Ahsoka in one of the corridors. The data cards were all over the floor and another Jedi was helping her collect them. Grogu didn’t know their name, but they told Ahsoka, ‘You don’t need to rush to meet your destiny, child, it will come and find you in due time’.  

Grogu was sure that was still true. For all of them. 

[popotobun]

WIP Wednesday

I have GOT to stop revising sections of this so I can get to the point I want to be to post.... but I keep wanting to adjust bits and it just means I take even longer lolol

Once more, it's Tangled!AU SVSSS. I'm still working out this middle bit, obviously, but we're getting somewhere? I decided to say "Fuck canon ages, it's an AU anyway!" and threw in some familiar faces instead of making up new NPCs.

I'm still squinting at all of this with a wrinkled nose trying to poke it to where I actually like it, but I'm not going to let that stop me from posting it.

------------------------

Across the street from him were two handsome men, dressed in matching attire. Though not ostentatious, it stood out from the more mundane-looking attire of the villagers. 

He couldn’t tell if they were guards, or perhaps hunters like Qingge, but they watched everyone that passed by, occasionally coming together to talk. If they were looking for someone, they sure were being obvious about it. They’d get noticed way too easily!

He did his best not to pay attention to them, but they were right there and every time they moved to talk, he found himself watching them instead of continuing along the path his thoughts were taking. Though, he was fond of mulling over the same thing, letting his mind wander in the most circuitous of ways, so that might have been for the better… 

He played with the end of his braid. The two men had dark hair, like most everyone seemed to. No one’s was as long as his either. The taller of the pair had curly hair and part of him wondered if it was as soft and fluffy as it looked. He wasn’t sure where the thought sprung from, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Qingge’s hair was soft and felt his cheeks warm. Not that Qingge would let him touch it randomly… but maybe he could offer to do his hair sometime?

The passing of a child hand in hand with their mother gave him an easy thing to focus on that was not the sudden warm thoughts of his intruder’s sparse smiles and barely there laugh. The child chattered animatedly, causing the mother to laugh, and A-Yuan found himself pulled into a sudden wave of barely there memories. A soft laugh, ‘A-Yuan!’, a small hand in his own, another patting his head, ‘didi’… He abruptly felt like a child himself, lost and fighting against the urge to cry.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” He jumped, attention refocusing only to see the fluffy-haired guard in front of him. When had he moved?! A-Yuan did his best to not shrink back, since he’d already been caught off guard, and blinked away any gathering tears. Please don’t notice. The last thing he needed was someone else to have seen him cry. 

“Are you alright?” The question was softly asked, the man’s dark eyes full of sincerity. He wasn’t, but he wasn’t sure if he should answer.

Don’t talk to anyone, Qingge had said, so after a moment he just smiled and nodded. Even if it was probably noticeably faked, he didn’t care. He glanced to the door for reassurance. Qingge was just inside there, and if he made noise, his intruder would come.

The thought was a bigger comfort than he expected.

“Here for the festival?” Though the man was polite and he felt bad about it, A-Yuan didn’t reply. He let the braid fall back behind him, his gaze still on the door instead of the one talking. If the man would take a moment to focus on more than just his face, maybe he’d get the hint… “You look familiar. Gongyi, doesn’t he remind you of someone?”

“Very much so, Binghe.” The second guard was no longer across the street, but standing a short distance from his friend with only the width of the door separating them.

A-Yuan looked between them both, letting his honest suspicion show now. The one called Gongyi lowered his voice, going for a more soothing, almost coaxing tone, “You’re Shen Yuan, aren’t you? You should come with us. We can get you home.”

He froze up, he couldn’t help it. He barely recognized his own voice, replying before his mind could catch up and stop him, “Wh-what?”

“I’d know that face anywhere!” Binghe said, sounding far too pleased with himself for A-Yuan to want to go anywhere with him, “Gongyi is right, though, we can get you home safe and sound.”

They… didn’t actually seem threatening, but that didn’t mean anything. And what did they mean, home? Was he Shen Yuan? Was that his whole name? Did they know him somehow?

He didn’t trust their kind smiles at all. He preferred the blunt attitude of Qingge. Forcing himself to stay steady, he shook his head, “I can find my own way, thank you.”

It was shaky and not all that convincing.

He slowly got to his feet, pulling the makeshift pack to his chest and stepping closer to the door. The pair seemed content blocking his path away from the building, but he had no plans to go that way. Before he could reach for it, the door opened and there was Liu Qingge. 

It took only a moment of looking between the three people for his intruder to scowl  at the two men and to shake his head at A-Yuan, “I leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens… Back off, he’s mine.”

[saltsprite]

ALL THE FANFIC ASK MEMES and go in descending order from most recent works with [insert fic]

i dont know why i thought you wouldnt do this to me

@steine-druff & @ckerouac​ yall buckle up too here we go

(from questions for fic writers)

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?) tame! it’s short, very sweet, kinda domestic, easy peasy

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? in this order, 1-5: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent; Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot; Oral Sex; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Light Angst. .........yeah it me LOL

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics? well apparently my writing is very Horny lmao but i try to switch it up regularly and explore new things, so i don’t know that i can pin down just one thing! if i really had to, i try to write like a good film that holds the camera on its actors to just let their scenes breathe and their actors act

4. What detail in [tame] are you really proud of? cobb calling grogu ‘sweet pea’ hehe <3

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [secretary]? Answer it now! Q: is Din a little tsundere there? A: yes >;3

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [pearls before beskar] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself? pearls are a bitch to clean ;3

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of? i made two OCs to live in Mos Pelgo/Freetown, both completely accidentally named after towns in Texas -- a young woman named Odessa, and a big burly dude (gender-neutral) with a huge beard named Sweetwater

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)? i can’t really think of any! i also don’t usually adapt things 1:1 from anything, so even when i do take inspiration from a song it’s more about the general vibe or expanding on an idea in the lyrics 

9. How do you find new fic to read? i... need to get better at it ;lkdfj;ald

10. How do you decide what to write? first and foremost it has to Vibe hard enough that i can spin off from that initial kernel of an idea

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is? i spend most of my time in DinCobb, but i am deeply fond of BobaCobb. like obviously DinCobb scratches a deep cowboy itch, but with BobaCobb, there’s just such an interesting dynamic of them both having (essentialy) worn Jango’s soul. it’s a profoundly tight thread that binds them together, reinforced by their mutual friendships with Din, that i just cannot get enough of

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you? “tropes”, more like “kinks” LMAO -- which is to say, that’s for me to know and you to try and figure out while you read my smut

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore? really just depends on who writes it! 

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer? YES. anything involving a power dynamic that’s kinda icky irl (like doctor/patient). also f/f version of a m/m ship. also BobaFen. 

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written? that same old song and dance -- the one where Cobb and Din are both young bounty hunters hired on the same job and it goes tits-up when Cobb is accidentally drugged, and they fuck after they save each other and the drugs wear off; and then meet again in canon

16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)? im gonna fucken write a DinCobb Evangelion someday fuckin WATCH ME

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it? oh i already wrote that LOLLLLL my precious DinCobb Utena AU

18. If you wrote a sequel to [rabbit heart], what would it involve? take that predator trope and suplex it to break its neck by having wolf!Din become Cobb’s homemaker, so that jackalope!Cobb can come home to a happy pup of a man

19. If you wrote a spin-off of [sugar pie, honey bun(ny)], what would it involve? Fennec Shand with her fingers in her ears plotting out how much dick and pussy she’ll need to forget about this

20. If you wrote a prequel to [sweet like strawberry], what would it involve? oooohhh their first meeting, i think

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in [once bitten, twice shy], what would it be? ch2, Raylan gets his hat back smelling like Ezra and only once he’s home and the door is locked he’s shoving his nose into the sweatband to huff Ezra’s smell and try not to jerk off about it (and fail)

22. Who is your favorite character in [four times lucky] and why? Boba Fett LMAO cheeky bastard <3

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to? lovers to enemies >:]

24. Are there any easter eggs in [take my revolution], and if so, what are they? as im typing out “ah jeez i don’t even use easter eggs” i am reminded that i am a stinky liar, i absolutely put Kaoru Miki and Himemiya Anthy in my Utena AU fic. i was gonna have a scene where Utena herself appears but i could never figure out how to do it gracefully so i gave up on that (because the trick to AUs is actually to change the AU to fit the characters, not to change the characters to fit the AU, so if i can’t do it gracefully then it’s a sign that the idea is shit)

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write? Wookieepedia, thesaurus

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue? oh fuck these are both good challenges,,,,,,, at this point i’d say “fic that’s only dialogue” for the challenge 

27. How long did it take to write [the ground you walk on]? Describe the process. aka the one with the Boot Stuff. process was to 1) watch Cobb Vanth’s glorious return in TBOBF 2) get horny as fuck 3) whip this out in like a day in a fervent fugue state

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who? hahahahaha i never beta :’)

29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for [shrouded]? Explain your choices if you want! beautiful stranger, by halsey; want to be missed, by hayley kiyoko. idk why but the sapphics tap into a level of gay yearning that nears divinity for me

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter? ohhh definitely my 34k DinCobb Utena AU, so far. it taught me that outlines are what drive your story, if you don’t have an outline to fish-bone off of you’re gonna have a bad time

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write? 4k-ish? max

32. What’s your ideal fic length to read? tbh my upper limit is about 30k these days. not everything needs to be 100k!

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read? this is so subjective based on the overall length of story haha but i usually only do oneshots 

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life? any cats named Rusty, parental issues, anything a character does out of Responsibility 

35. What aspects of your writing are completely unlike your real life? first of all they’re fictional space DILFs, my complete and thorough opposite,

36. Do you visualize what you read/write? YES, it’s the second step in the process. step 1, VIBES. step 2, SEE IT. step 3, ATTEMPT TO DESCRIBE

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it? y’know what? i think i’ll do a couple. 1) waste not -- far as i know im the first to use the Virgin Cobb Vanth tag and you best believe i am smug as shit about that. he’s a lone wolf!! Mos Pelgo isn’t a place for him to live, it’s a place to protect!! 2) that same old song and dance -- it’s mentioned elsewhere in this post but i’ll plug it here again just because it was so much fun to write and i want people to like my dumb children

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful? salt in the wound, maybe! my first BobaCobb. i remain surprised that BobaCobb is so rare as it is, given the incomprehensibly intricate ways in which canon now binds these two together. but i think i was one of the first(ish) writers to feel like they needed their own fic space, and not just be in the background as leftovers from other pairings

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who? everyone who mentioned that outlines help them write <3

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person? ohhhh i reread. i likes my comforts foods :3 

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.” that’s what you’re good at, by ghost_teeth like.......... shit, fam.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason? ohhhhh, yes. a very sweet reader once said they liked my take on Din Djarin so much, they’d want me to write a whole novel of him TT^TT <3

43. If you take/write prompts: what’s your favorite prompt fic that you’ve written? n/a

44. If you take/write prompts: do you prefer dialogue or scenario/narrative prompts? n/a

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic? pacing, i think, and being willing to let go of scenes that might not entirely fit

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write? pc for sure. i can write on my phone, but i prefer a keyboard. feels like the ideas come out faster on keyboard!

47. If [da capo (or: to the beginning)] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes. the shoes you bought for an occasion that you didn’t think you’d like all that much, but are now part of your usual rotation

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it? Hallmark Meeting! it’s cute and deliciously smutty

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it! i’m gonna try my hand at some original long fic that i can hopefully shop around!  I don’t think. I kiss him.  Or, rather:  I tumble head-first into the sweet cavern of his mouth. By the flat of his tongue, he tucks me into the space where his top front teeth meets his soft palate and holds me there, safe and secreted. He holds me there, across my cheek, at my waist; he is the bank of my river, guiding me to flow into his lap. A blessing, his hands. Diligent, his kiss.

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! there needs to be more anime in Mandalorian fic, and i mean that in ways i cannot fully articulate. like,,,,,,, not anime AUs necessarily but themes and storytelling styles and tropes more common in non-Western media